Date: 2018-10-14 07:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Science Fiction
Description: The Turns have stopped! The time bubbles are gone! And now everyone is trapped Flipside! Operator Trevon Cash, along with his friends, colleagues, and an international coalition of military personnel, must fight horrific new dinosaurs, survive a landscape in constant turmoil, and somehow figure out how to get back to their time while their modern technology fails, new mega-predators attack, and a Russian army bears down on them! The once stable Flipside is now the nightmarish Savageside! The Turns have stopped! The time bubbles are gone! And now everyone is trapped Flipside! Operator Trevon Ca
Publisher: SEVERED Press

THE SAVAGESIDE

– The Flipside Sagas –

Jake Bible

www.severedpress.com

Copyright 2018 by Jake Bible

Table of Contents

- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20

One

“Another one down,” Lewis snarled into the comms.

The crackling of static told her that the system was far from dialed in, but the response gave her hope that they’d get the long-range logistics figured out soon.

“Can you log the distance for me? I’ll compare to my reading and see if we’re anywhere close to a more accurate measurement on my end,” a voice replied over the comms.

Lewis slowly walked over to the crashed drone known as a “shredhawk,” originally designed to neutralize pterosaurs and keep them from escaping into Topside, but now being utilized as a communications relay system so teams of operators could communicate with Flipside base of operations, or Flipside BOP, while out on patrol. Or that was the theory.

Flipside and Topside, they occupied the same physical space, but totally different times.

Topside was 2046, a future where time bubbles appeared and the land flipped over to reveal a peek into a hundred square miles of a prehistoric lost world that shouldn’t exist in 2046.

A prehistoric lost world known as Flipside.

The late Cretaceous period, that was the time and space that Lewis was standing in, frustrated that one of the four drones that had been following her recon team had given up the ghost and crashed into the ground in a highly unceremonious crunch of metal alloy and failing technology.

Sparks from the downed shredhawk threatened to set the savannah grasses ablaze. Lewis snapped her fingers and an operator hurried over to spray the drone with a couple bursts of fire suppressant from a small tube on his belt. The sparks died and the grasses quit smoldering.

“We’re what? Eighteen clicks from Flipside BOP’s former bubble perimeter?” Lewis replied.

The time bubble no longer existed, having been collapsed in order to keep Topside from being destroyed by the ever-expanding and contracting chaos. No one knew the exact Whys or Whats of the collapse, only that those Flipside were stuck Flipside until those Topside figured out a way to get them back home.

Lewis turned in a circle, her eyes scanning the vast fields and low hills of thigh-high grasses that seemed to go on forever. One day what would become the Rocky Mountains would border the plains, but that was not this day. Lewis sighed.

“You alright, dude?” the voice asked. The voice belonged to Mike DiCenzo, Flipside BOP’s head tech. “Everything okay?”

“Just sick of this view,” Lewis replied. “The Australian BOP was next to a waterfall with a lagoon of crystal clear water and a rushing river only meters away. Colors, Michael. Colors. All this beige is depressing.”

“We’re stuck with the beige for now, Lewis,” Mike replied. “Not a lot we can do about it unless you want to spearhead a wildflower campaign like the Department of Transportation does with highway medians and all that crap.”

“You know what I mean,” Lewis said. “You still reading the other three shredhawks?”

Lewis glanced up into the glare of the midday sun and watched as three drones circled high above, never straying more than a couple meters from where the team of four operators stood.

“They are alive and kicking, dude,” Mike said. “A little static, as you can hear, but fairly clear considering your distance. Shielding is holding out.”

“I still don’t see why tech goes haywire Flipside,” one of the operators said. He was watching the drones circle as well then shifted his attention to Lewis. “Don’t make much sense.”

“That Carter?” Mike asked.

“Yeah,” Carter, the operator, replied.

“Last time I explain it, Carter. Next time you get the dunce hat, dude,” Mike said. “All of our tech was developed in the 21st century. The Earth is a much different environment a couple hundred million years from now. Magnetic resonance is different, alignment of the poles is different, and how the Sun acts is different.”

“He’s talking sun spots, man,” another operator said.

“Exactly,” Mike said. “The sun here is millions and millions of years younger than our sun. The solar activity is different which can wreak havoc on tech not built back in this time.”

“So build some tech in this time,” Carter said.

“Yes, because it’s that easy, dude,” Mike replied. “I have all the time in the world to devote to inventing completely new technology. It’s not like I have an entire base worth of infrastructure to keep an eye on.”

“Which is why we’re testing the shielding,” Lewis said, sounding more than exasperated with the subject. “Tech from the 21st is garbage. Tech shielded from the influence of Flipside is lesser garbage, but still garbage.”

“I wouldn’t call it rubbish, dude,” Mike said. “Maybe glitchy, but not garbage. And I thought Aussies say rubbish?”

“That’s Brits, asshole.”

A loud explosion echoed from above and one of the drones came spiraling down to the ground in a flaming mess. Parts and bits rained down for a few seconds, forcing the operators to cover their heads with their arms and pause before putting out the drone’s flames.

Lewis sprayed fire retardant on the downed machine and grimaced. “Garbage, Michael. Garbage. You should have listened to me and stripped them down completely for a full bottoms-up rebuild.”

“I know the shredhawks better than you, Lewis,” Mike objected. “Now, if you’d brought more of your Australian tech with you, maybe you could work on that. But for now, we aren’t stripping everything done to bare bones for full rebuilds. We don’t have that kind of time, dude.”

“Seems to me we got nothing but time,” Lewis said.

“Hey, I get it. You’re used to being Commander Bloom’s go-to person for all things tech Flipside,” Mike said. “But rules have changed since the bubbles collapsed and Flipside BOP has been on the front lines of those changes. I’m head of tech at Flipside BOP, dude. Not starting a pissing match again, but that’s the way things are.”

“Yeah, but your problem is you’re only tech,” Lewis said and patted her TS .338 sniper rifle. “I’m field ops and tech. I have more perspective. And my field perspective is the shielding is rubbish and can’t last out here for long. Full rebuild will fix that.”

There was silence for a second.

“Michael? You still there, mate?”

“What? Yeah, sorry. Got distracted. Comm you back in a few,” Mike said. “Try five more clicks before calling it a day and heading back to base.”

“Copy that, mate,” Lewis said and nodded to the others. “You heard the man. We got five more clicks to hike before the day is done.”

***

Seated at his console in the clapped-together building that had been provided as half control room for him and the other techs to work in, and half command center for Commander Bloom and his team to work in, Mike stared at a holograph of the landscape the shredhawk drones had scanned and mapped on Lewis’s trek.

Mike swiped the image into a virtual box marked “Field Topography” then brought up the wave form of the comms frequencies that he’d programmed to continually modulate in order to cover a broader spectrum. There was still too much interference for the system to be called reliable, but he was close to dialing it in. And it certainly wasn’t garbage…

Several other techs, all from different Topside nations, were busy working at consoles behind Mike, some silently typing while others chattered back and forth, comparing notes on different projects they’d been assigned.

“Mike?”

Mike stared at a new reading that had popped up on his console’s vid screen. Seismic activity about twenty clicks from Lewis’ team’s position. Heavy seismic activity.

“Mike? Hello?”

“Hmmm?” Mike replied, turning his body, but not his head, to face the visitor.

“Mike!”

“What, dude?” Mike snapped, looking directly at Barbara Chin as she stood next to him, her hands on her hips, eyes fiery with annoyance. “Oh, hey Barb. What’s up?”

“The camera? You said you’d have a camera ready for me today so I can continue documenting our time here Flipside,” Barbara said. “The last one fried after five hours of use. Can’t really create a visual record of experiences, or interview folks, when the instrument I use to do all that tries to electrocute me on a daily basis.”

“Camera?” Mike asked, a blank look on his face.

“Sweet Jesus,” Barbara said. She closed her eyes and rubbed her cheeks then opened her eyes and gave Mike a pained smile. “Do you ever listen to me?”

“Oh, sure I listen to you,” Mike said, his attention drawn back to the seismic readings still coming from his console. “Leave the camera and I’ll fix it tonight.”

“I left you the camera, Mike,” Barbara responded in a tone that said her patience was at an end. “Two days ago. Two days, Mike.”

“Hmmmm? Two days? Oh, yeah, I’ll have it done within two days, dude,” Mike said. “No problem.” He pointed at the readings. “That doesn’t look good. What do you think?”

“I’m not a seismologist or geologist,” Barbara replied. “I’m a former holo news reporter, one that was at the top of her game back home, and now I’m a documentarian. Without a camera. I do not care about earthquakes and shit, Mike.”

“Right, sure, of course,” Mike said and nodded. “You see Dr. Xipan around? She should look at this.”

“Are you asking me if I’ve seen Dr. Xipan because she’s Chinese and I’m an American of Chinese descent?” Barbara glared. “That’d be pretty damn racist of you, Mike, if you were.”

“What? Racist?” Mike spun in his chair and faced Barbara again, alarmed. “What do you mean? Dr. Xipan is our only geologist. I was wondering if you’ve seen her. She doesn’t have a comm yet, so I can’t call her. All working comms are for operators and command personnel per Commander Bloom.”

“You’re not going to fix the camera, are you?” Barbara asked. Mike grinned then slowly spun back to study the seismic readings. “Oh my fucking God…”

Barbara stormed out of the building, slamming the door behind her. The other techs watched her go then looked at Mike who was oblivious to the drama and focused solely on the readings.

“This can’t be good, dudes,” Mike said. “Someone go find Dr. Xipan.”

No one moved. Mike didn’t notice.

***

The last of the drones spiraled their way to destruction, leaving swirling smoke in the air and more flaming wreckage on the ground. Lewis stared with semi-disgust and disinterest as two of her team put out the flames. She tapped at her ear and was not surprised to find that the comms were down. Until they backtracked to the closest grounded comms relay, they’d be cut off from Flipside BOP.

“Lewis?” Carter asked. “Go on or go back?”

The rest of the team—Operators Transk, Nochez, and Wellstone—finished making sure the drones weren’t going to set the savannah on fire then regarded Lewis as well.

“Can’t see any reason to keep moving forward,” Lewis said just as the ground shook violently and she was thrown off her feet and onto her ass.

Transk and Nochez fell to their knees, but Wellstone and Carter managed to stay upright by spreading their feet wide and lowering their centers of gravity.

Lewis got back to her feet and frowned at the others. “That was a bigger quake than usual.”

The ground shook again, but Lewis stayed upright and waited out the quake before turning to look back the way they came.

“I’d feel better if we were in the speed roller and on our way back to the BOP,” she said just before a third quake hit them.

The third quake was brutally violent and no one was left standing. It raged for a full five minutes before dwindling to considerably milder aftershocks coming every five seconds. No one tried to stand as the aftershocks caused the grasses to bend and sway as if a large wind was blowing when there was no wind to speak of.

“What’s that?” Transk, a large man with a heavy brow and torso built like a tank asked. He was part of the Scandinavian contingent and looked the part. “You see that?”

“Where am I looking?” Lewis asked.

“On our eight,” Transk replied and got to his knees. He put his rifle to his shoulder so he could zoom in with the scope. “About three clicks out. A shimmer.”

“Not seeing it,” Carter said, his rifle to his shoulder and eye to his scope too. “Three clicks out?”

“On our eight, Carter,” Nochez said, her attention fully locked onto what Transk had spotted. “Turn twenty degrees.”

Carter did and gasped. “Is that a bubble?”

“What’s that?” Wellstone asked and scanned the horizon with his rifle. “A bubble? Don’t mess with me, mate. I been praying for a bubble since we got trapped in this Hell of a past.”

Wellstone gasped.

“Oh…”

“Oh, is right,” Lewis said. “That’s a bubble, alright, but it ain’t our bubble. What’s going on inside there?”

“That’d be fire,” Nochez said. “A lot of fire.”

“Maybe we should have a closer look,” Transk said and stood. He waited for a quake to knock him on his ass, but smiled at the others when one didn’t come. “Might be fire, but could also be a way back home.”

“You gonna walk through flames to get back to Sweden, mate?” Wellstone asked. “I know you come from vikings, but you ain’t indestructible.”

“I do not know what my heritage has to do with being indestructible,” Transk said.

“Lewis?” Carter asked as everyone got to their feet. “What’s the call?”

The ground shook, but calmed itself before anyone lost their footing.

Lewis’ eyes were locked onto the far-off shimmer in the air that was barely visible without the use of her scope. But it was visible. She narrowed her eyes and tapped at her ear. Still no comms. She knew that would be the result, but thought it worth a try, just in case.

“Let’s have a look,” Lewis said finally. “We were going to hike five clicks, so three shouldn’t be an issue. Michael knows our current position, and where we were headed, so finding us shouldn’t be an issue if we run into problems.”

“You expecting us to run into problems?” Wellstone asked.

Lewis blinked. Carter shrugged.

“Right. Flipside. Always with the problems,” Carter said.

“Let’s have a look,” Lewis said and walked toward the shimmer.

The other operators fell in step and carefully made their way through the grasses, mindful of any new crevices and sinkholes formed from the quakes.

***

Trevon Cash sat with his back against the heavy-duty metal fence, arms crossed over his chest, scowl on his face, and glared at the Ankylosaurus that refused to stand up as he’d been ordered to.

“I can lean here all day, E,” Cash said. “All fucking day.”

The Ankylosaurus barely gave Cash a second look before wriggling his multi-ton mass deeper into the dirt, going all in with his refusal to cooperate.

Elvis’s body was a wide, flattened dome made up of multiple armored plates topped by knobby, bony protrusions. The dome protected the entirety of Elvis’s back, ending where the long, powerful tail began. At the end of that tail was a mace-like ball that could crack steel in half if Elvis got up a full head of steam and felt particularly destructive.

Four stocky legs, as big and thick as an elephant’s, held up the huge armored body. Two horns protruded from the back of the wide, thick skull, with another set of two horns pointing downward from the first. Cash had witnessed those horns hook the legs of predators and flip the attackers onto their ass with the shake of a head.

But the only head shaking at that moment was from Cash as he struggled to keep his temper intact and not kick the obstinate dino. And even with Elvis’s size and armor, a kick from Cash would have been irritating for the uncooperative beast.

Early forties, biracial with bright blue eyes, and salt and pepper hair shorn tight, Cash looked like he meant business. Being six foot five, two hundred and fifty pounds, and all of that size lean muscle, helped with the image. Straight from school to the military then as an operator for Topside Industries, the company his father owned and his half-sister ran, Cash knew how to take care of himself.

The only issue was that his knees were mush. That was the only way to describe them. Seventeen surgeries later and the best the knees were good for was keeping his calves attached to his thighs. Stability of any kind was a pipe dream. Allergic to cybernetic replacements, Cash was forced to support his knees with a pair of exo-braces.

Exo-braces that continually glitched now that he, his friends, and personnel from Topside Industries, as well as the international coalition that was forced to come together when the time bubbles collapsed, were stuck hundreds of millions of years back in time in a setting that was not compatible with modern technology.

Cash decided to risk the exo-brace glitches, and the irritation of the large dino, and walked over to Elvis, drew his right leg back, and was about to give a hard, swift kick to the Ankylosaurus’ backside.

“He’s been in a mood,” Tyrel Thompson said from the fence. “Kick him and he’ll be in an even worse mood.”

Cash slowly lowered his leg and turned to face his father.

Lean, early seventies, deep brown skin with blazingly intelligent eyes, Thompson was dressed in his usual khakis and short-sleeved, button-down shirt. But the clothes were looking a little worse for wear despite being impeccably clean. Eight months in Flipside without proper resources and equipment meant that having clean clothes was a do-it-yourself affair. And despite being the primary stockholder in Topside Industries, no one was volunteering to do the old man’s laundry.

Cash had given his father a lot of crap for the lack of basic life skills. Cash had grown up poor with a single mother, someone that Tyrel Thompson had cast aside after a brief affair, so Cash knew how to not only do laundry, but how to handle all of the basics. While Thompson hadn’t grown up rich, he had grown up with a mother that did everything for him then went straight from that to college and from that to the highest strata of tech success.

Laughing at Thompson’s shortcomings was one of Cash’s favorite activities.

“What now?” Thompson asked and looked down at his shirt. “The spots? Yes, I used too much bleach.”

“You don’t bleach colors,” Cash said. “And you shouldn’t waste bleach on laundry. We need that for disinfectant more than we do to keep your whites sparkling white.”

Thompson ignored his son and turned his attention on Elvis.

“No greeting today, Elvis?” Thompson asked.

The dino snorted and gave the old man the side eye, but he didn’t turn his head or get up and greet Thompson as he usually did.

“He’s been like this for a couple of days,” Thompson said. “Unfortunately, we do not have a veterinarian here in Flipside with us. While we all had inoculations before our travels back in time, Elvis did not. He could be suffering from any number of illnesses or parasites his body is not used to.”

“Or he could be a pain in the ass and finally figured out there really isn’t a whole lot we can do to him if he refuses to cooperate!” Cash yelled at the dino.

Elvis snorted again then stood up.

“Ha. See?” Cash said just as Elvis lifted a leg and let loose with a geyser of dino piss.

Aimed directly at Cash.

“You rotten son of a bitch!” Cash shouted as he scrambled away from the splashing dino urine.

Cash scrambled up over the fence and dropped down next to his father as Elvis peed for close to two minutes straight without pausing. Elvis’s pen quickly became a mire of pee mud. Thompson broke out laughing as Cash stared down at the wet splatters on his fatigues.

“Asshole,” Cash said, the word directed at both the dino and the old man still laughing next to him.

“I guess he’s feeling fine after all,” Thompson snickered.

“Cash!”

Thompson’s laughter didn’t stop, but it did grow quieter as both men turned to face the incoming Barbara Chin.

“Uh oh. Sounds like you’re in trouble with your lady friend,” Thompson said. He walked off, still laughing, and gave Barbara a quick nod as he left.

Cash bit his tongue, letting his father walk away without comment, and waited for Barbara to reach him.

“What are you all fired up about?” Cash asked. He leaned in for a kiss, but Barbara stopped him with a firm hand to his chest. “Okay…”

“Mike still hasn’t gotten me a working camera,” Barbara said. “Part of the reason I matter on this base is because I can professionally document everything. Years of working as a holo reporter has trained me to know exactly what needs to be preserved for posterity and what does not. I can’t do anything if I don’t have a goddamn camera, though.”

“And you’re pissed at me because…?” Cash asked.

“I’m not pissed at you. I need you to go get pissed at Mike and light a fire under his tech butt,” Barbara replied.

“Barb, I’m not in charge of shit around here,” Cash said. “Tressa and Bloom run the show. After that, it’s Ivy for security and Raff as her second, Mike for tech with Lewis as his second, Dr. Raskov is in charge of medical, Olivia is in charge of child care and education, and a whole bunch of sub-heads among the international folks that I can’t keep track of. The only thing I am in charge of is feeding and taking care of dickhead dino over there.”

Elvis ducked his head low, aimed his rear-facing nostrils at Cash, and blew a long string of snot straight at the fence. It splattered against the metal and dripped off in long strands. Luckily, none of it reached Cash.

“Doing a great job,” Barbara said, eyeing Elvis. “You trimmed his toenails yet?”

“Shut up,” Cash said.

“Go talk to Mike, please,” Barbara said with a sigh. “I tried talking to him, but he was busy.”

“Then he’s busy,” Cash said. “Go tell Lewis. She’ll get you hooked up.”

“Lewis is out in the field helping Mike test shredhawk drones for long-range comms,” Barbara replied.

“Sounds like a good use of their time.”

“As opposed to helping me? Because documenting all of this is not a good use of time?” Barbara glared then shook her head. “Thanks for nothing, Tre.”

Before he could respond, she spun about and stalked away. Cash started to call out to her, but after months of living together in tight quarters, he knew the body language she was putting out. Her backside said she was rage pissed and if he spoke one more word, she’d kick him out of their shared hut and he’d be sleeping in the pen with Elvis for a week.

Cash turned his face up to the clear sky and let the sun bake his skin. Elvis let loose with a massive fart behind him.

“Son of a bitch,” Cash said.

***

“We got a flock of wingers incoming,” Carter announced, nodding up at the dark mass that had just left the shimmer of the bubble behind.

“Keep an eye on them,” Lewis said as she stared at the new time bubble that was only five meters away from her and the team. “Drop one if they get curious. That should send them flying away. The wingers have gotten smart about steering clear when they hear rifle shots.”

“These are coming out of the bubble, Lewis,” Carter stated. “I don’t recognize the species.”

Lewis gave the flock a cursory glance, but her attention was mainly and firmly focused on what was inside the time bubble.

Fire.

And not from a field blaze.

A good quarter mile of the earth inside the mystery time bubble was mostly molten lava. Molten lava that was flowing directly toward the perimeter of the bubble. Lewis could feel the heat from where she stood.

“Nochez?” Lewis asked.

The operator was a couple meters closer than Lewis. She glanced over her shoulder and shook her head.

“I don’t recognize the landscape,” Nochez said. “Obviously not our time. By the way everything looks, I’d say this is prehistory to our prehistory.”

“Lewis…” Transk said.

The man’s tone caught Lewis’ attention and she shifted her focus. Transk was standing close to Carter and both men were staring at the flock that was coming straight for the team. Wingers for sure, and not from any species that Lewis recognized.

That wasn’t the problem. The problem was the size of the individual creatures.

Lewis had figured the flock was much closer than it was. That had been her mistake of perception. The flock was still a good ways off, but looked closer in proximity because each of the pterosaurs were massive monsters.

“Those wingspans have gotta be ten meters across, mates,” Wellstone said as he joined Transk and Carter.

“Lewis, we have more trouble,” Nochez said.

“Whatever it is, we leave it here,” Lewis said. “Time to hoof it back to the speed roller now, people!”

“We could pop a few from here,” Carter said, his rifle to his shoulder and eye to his scope. “Drop some and scare off the rest before they get curious.”

“Lewis!” Nochez shouted. “Teeth!”

Lewis whipped her head back in the direction of Nochez and the bubble. Off to the right of the lava flow was a mass of dinosaurs heading straight for the time bubble’s perimeter. Each creature was easily as large as a Tyrannosaurus rex, but covered in thick, multi-colored plumage. The roars of the monsters could be barely heard from that distance, but what the team did hear did not sound good.

“Wingers are eyeing the teeth,” Wellstone said. “Fuck me.”

The flock of pterosaurs changed directions and dove back down into the bubble, straight for the land-based predators.

All except for two of the wingers, which must have spotted the team.

They broke off from the flock, angled their bodies, and pulled their wings in close to their bodies. The wingers’ speed increased exponentially.

Carter squeezed off four shots at the incoming flying beasts.

One of the wingers cried out, flipped over, and spun down toward the ground. The other let out a squawk that was a half cry of surprise and half of anger which caught the attention of the main flock. The attack on the incoming pack of teeth was forgotten.

The team was now the main target.

“Oh, shit, that was a mistake,” Carter said as he lowered his rifle. “Sorry about that.”

“Apologies later, mate!” Lewis shouted. “Right now we fucking run!”

Two

“Hey, Mike,” Cash said as he stepped into the command hut. “Any chance you could—?”

“Where is Dr. Xipan?” Mike snapped at Cash. “I sent your girlfriend to get her and she hasn’t showed up yet.”

“Nice to see you too, pal,” Cash said. “And I have no idea what you’re talking about. Barbara came to me because you won’t get her a working camera. She didn’t say shit about Dr. Xipan. She’s the geologist, right?”

“Yeah, she is, dude, and I needed a geologist like thirty minutes ago!” Mike nearly shouted.

None of the other techs looked toward Mike, but Cash could read the body language of the room and knew they were listening hard.

Cash grimaced and walked to Mike’s console. He stared at the readings and the grimace became a full frown.

“Earthquakes?” Cash asked. “I felt a couple tremors earlier, but they were nothing. What’s the problem?”

“These aren’t here at Flipside BOP, dude,” Mike explained. “They’re coming from readings out by the permanent sensor and comms relays. Lewis and her team are out there somewhere and I need to know if they’re in trouble or not. Dr. Xipan can read this data better than I can.”

“If Lewis and her team are in trouble then you should have alerted Ivy,” Cash said. “She’s Head of Security.”

“Ivy is not responding to comms at the moment,” Mike said. “I believe your ex-wife has found herself a fuck buddy. Every day at this time she turns off her comms for at least an hour.”

“Huh,” Cash replied. “Who’s the guy?”

“No idea. Don’t really care, dude,” Mike said. “What I care about is getting Dr. Xipan to look at this shit ASAP. Any chance you can track her down?”

Cash smiled. “Any chance you can get Barbara a working camera so she’s not pissed off all the time?”

“Dude, seismic activity like this trumps shielded cameras any day of the damn week,” Mike said. Cash’s smile widened. “Fine. I’ll have one for her by tomorrow morning. That work for you?”

“Works great,” Cash said and turned to the room’s door. “I’ll be back with Dr. Xipan in a few minutes.”

“And maybe Ivy, if you can find her,” Mike said.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Cash replied and left the control room.

Standing a few meters away from the command hut, chatting with some of the support personnel that had been assigned to water purification, was Tressa Thompson. Middle-aged, intimidatingly beautiful, with deep, dark skin, Tressa was several years older than Cash. She stood tall and strong as she studied a tablet one of the workers had handed her.

Cash could see by how she held her shoulders that she wasn’t pleased with the information she’d been handed, but wasn’t pissed either.

“Hey, sis,” Cash called.

Tressa sighed and glanced over her shoulder at her younger half-brother. “Busy, Tre.”

“You seen Dr. Xipan anywhere?” Cash asked, ignoring his sister’s comment. “And Ivy?”

“Together?” Tressa replied. She gave the tablet back to the workers, said a few words Cash couldn’t hear, then turned and walked toward him. “This a new item I need to know about? As co-lead of all this crap, I have to be aware of who is coupling with who so I can head off any drama.”

“No, not together,” Cash said. “Not that I know of. Mike needs Dr. Xipan because of seismic readings he’s worried about. And Ivy needs to know that Lewis and her team might be in the shit.”

“The two issues related?” Tressa asked.

“Maybe. I don’t know for sure. I’m just the errand boy,” Cash said with a shrug.

“Why didn’t Mike comm Dr. Xipan?”

“She isn’t set up for comms.”

“This something Bloom should be in on?”

“Again, sis, I’m just the errand boy.”

“You used to give a shit, Tre.”

“I used to live in the 21st century,” Cash countered. “And I do give a shit, sis. I simply don’t have answers for you. Do you have an answer for me?”

“An answer to what question?”

“Do you know where Dr. Xipan is?”

“No.”

“Is that a no as in no answer or no you don’t know?”

“I don’t know where Dr. Xipan is.”

“There. Was that so hard?”

“Kiss my ass, Tre. I don’t have time for your crap.”

“No one does.”

“I’m going to talk to Mike.”

“Good idea. I’ll keep looking for Dr. Xipan.”

“You do that.”

“Great talk, sis.”

Tressa waved him off and headed for the command hut.

Cash spun on his heel, ground his teeth as his right exo-brace sparked and seized for half a second, then headed in the direction of the mess building. Best place to start when looking for anyone within the walls of Flipside BOP.

The Flipside BOP had once been Flipside FOB, or forward operating base. But since being stuck Flipside, there was only one base, the BOP or base of operations. When built, Flipside FOB had been a combination of military installation, scientific research center, and tourist resort. Although, no one that had ever visited Flipside would have gushed over the accommodations as five-star.

“Disney Rustic minus the magic” was how it had been commonly described.

The base had been built around a central cluster of buildings that were there for the guests’ comfort—living quarters, gift shops, a couple cafes and a nice restaurant, a museum and auditorium, and some outdoor outfitter-type shops that charged a thousand percent markup on clothes that cost less to make than the hangers they were displayed upon.

After the central hub were many other buildings, spiraling out in concentric circles that were designed to be barriers to protect the tourists that had come to visit the prehistoric landscape. Of course, tourists were only supposed to be there when the Turn happened and the part of Flipside contained in the bubble was safely Topside. That scenario no longer applied.

The outer circles of buildings once were administrative offices, personnel quarters, mess hall, a cluster of research buildings, rows of pens for animals captured for study or held for rehabilitation, and the armory.

But that was the old layout. When the Turns had gone haywire, and the time bubble was no longer stable, the base had pretty much been reduced to piles of rubble. Having several transportation drones carrying large vehicles crash land across the base hadn’t helped. The destruction had left plenty of walls, but not a single building was fully intact when Cash and the others had arrived. Maybe one or two of the smaller ones, but for all intents and purposes, Flipside FOB was a complete loss.

So was the one hundred foot wall that had been built to protect the base from outside attacks. Single panels here and there had stood independently, but other than those few exceptions, the wall was as much of a loss as the base itself.

Then Commander Bloom and his coalition had arrived to help fight back the packs of teeth and flocks of wingers that were constantly trying to pick off survivors. Not to mention the Russian combots that were sent as hunter-killers to wipe out anyone left on the base. The Russians were not a subject Cash liked to think about. He left those logistics to Bloom, Ivy, and Raff, Cash’s best friend and one of the best operators in Flipside BOP.

With the entire base demolished, a complete rebuild was needed. Starting with the wall.

The Iceland contingent, which included Swedes and Norwegians, had created what Raff called a “bolt pounder.” It was a piece of heavy-duty machinery that looked like a jackhammer on steroids contained within a framework of welded steel. Put two cross beams under the machine and it could pound a bolt through the steel in the blink of an eye.

It took a month to complete, but Flipside BOP had been finally secured around its perimeter.

Which left the rebuilding of the other structures contained within the wall.

Cash passed separate barracks for the operators, for support personnel, for the civilians (which included most of the medical and tech staff), and a few individual huts that had been set up for command personnel like Tressa, Bloom, Ivy, Thompson, Raff, Mike, and Barbara, even though she wasn’t technically command, but she was in charge of documenting everything and had insisted on her own space.

Cash took advantage of her privilege and bunked with her most every night. Unless he screwed up, which he did often, then he was stuck in a cot in the operators’ barracks. He really needed Mike to get her that working camera or his back would be shot for a week after sleeping on one of those damn cots.

Making his way around the barracks, completing nearly a full circle, Cash passed the infirmary. On the other side of that, just barely visible, he could see the command hut, where Bloom and Tressa were more than likely having a conversation with Mike about what Cash had told his sister.

His exo-brace glitched and Cash almost stopped in at the tech workshop for a quick repair, but he needed to find Dr. Xipan first.

There was a lot of activity around the main garage as mechanics hustled to keep the many vehicles—ATVs, speed rollers, and crawlers—working in the tech-inhospitable environment that was the past. There had been a good amount of breakthroughs, which had allowed Bloom and the coalition to get from the coast to inland and Flipside BOP, but since their arrival, Murphy’s Law had reigned and none of the tech would stay consistently operational. There had been a drinking game created for whenever anyone mentioned “sun spots” as a cause for tech trouble.

Cash nodded at a couple of the mechanics he knew by face, but not by name, as he’d been having trouble keeping the international support personnel straight in his head. He knew all the operators by face and name, but that was a life or death necessity. Cash knew he needed to make a bigger effort to get to know the others, especially since there were only a couple hundred people in the entire base.

Past the garages and around the structures set up for parts and supplies, Cash came to the mess hall. It was not a hard structure to find. The makeshift tiki torches lining the entrance, and the constant music coming from staticky speakers, gave the place away instantly. When Cash walked toward the entrance, he noticed the torches were burning brighter and the music was louder than usual.

Then the smell hit him and he knew why.

“What the fuck?” Cash shouted as he pushed through the mess hall’s doors and into a raucous scene. “The beer is ready and no one comms me?”

A few cheers went up at Cash’s entrance, but most of the people present were busy drinking some very skunky beer and talking loudly in small groups around the mess. The skunk beer was a product of Australian ingenuity and an always present human need to get fucked up. The Australians had also perfected the art of grilling dinosaur steaks and ribs on an open fire pit and the smell of cooked meat hit Cash too as he navigated the chaos of the mess hall and made his way to a table of pitchers filled with some very cloudy beer.

Standing at the table was Olivia Herndon. She raised a glass of beer then picked up a second glass and offered it to Cash.

“Thanks,” Cash said, taking the beer. He sipped, coughed, grimaced, shook his head, then took another sip. “Strong.”

“It better be after the day I’ve had,” Olivia said.

“Bad day at the schoolhouse?” Cash asked.

Olivia Herndon had been part of a tourist group of educators back when the time bubble had still been behaving normally and Flipside FOB had been intact and a working resort. Then the troubles began, the earth broke open, and more than half the tour group had been killed as they either plummeted to their deaths inside a freak chasm that split the ground, or had been picked off by flocks of wingers that no one could fight off.

By a freak set of circumstances, including the near destruction of Topside, Olivia had found herself back in Flipside along with Tressa, Mike, Dr. Raskov, Ivy, and an operator named Haskins. There’d been more, but months stuck in Flipside without proper protection had picked off the rest. Now, Olivia, along with her wife Astrid, were in charge of all schooling and child care for the couple dozen children that had unfortunately been stranded, or born, Flipside when the time bubbles collapsed across the globe.

“The language barrier got the best of my patience today,” Olivia said as she sipped and grimaced at her beer. “Most everyone knows English because of global trade and good old-fashioned imperialism, but I have a few parents that are less than fluent, and since I’m dealing with personnel from not just the U.S., Canada, the UK, and Australia, but Japan, Korea, Argentina, India, the Netherlands, Iran, Brazil, and China, sometimes shit gets lost in translation.”

“Who was it today?” Cash asked. He stepped to the side to let a Korean woman grab a pitcher of beer then leaned back against the table once he confirmed it could support his bulk. “Japanese?”

“Indian,” Olivia said.

“Indians speak English,” Cash said.

“Not when upset because their daughter is being bitten by another girl every day,” Olivia said. “Parents default to their native language when they want to read me the Riot Act.” Olivia sipped, grimaced, shrugged, then smiled. “We worked it out once tempers had calmed down. But that was twenty minutes of my life I can’t ever get back.”

“Cheers to you handling it,” Cash said and clinked his cup to hers. He sipped and grimaced then scanned the mess hall. “You happen to see Dr. Xipan? Mike needs her.”

“What for?” Olivia asked then pointed to a table of Chinese personnel in the far corner. They were drinking and laughing and playing a game with painted rocks. All forms of entertainment Flipside had gotten very creative. “She’s right there. I haven’t figured out what they are playing, but it’s high stakes, so interrupt at your own risk, Cash.”

“I see her,” Cash said. “Thanks.” He started to walk away then turned. “If you see Ivy, tell her to check in with me, Mike, or Tressa and Bloom.”

“Ivy was at the armory last I saw her,” Olivia said. “She was pissed about something, but not too pissed. I’m sure you know the mood, having been married to her.”

“The armory? She likes to take inventory when annoyed, so yeah, I know the mood. Thanks,” Cash said and nodded to Olivia as he wove his way around the tables of drinking personnel and approached the group of Chinese personnel.

Eyes darted toward him, but no one paused their game to address Cash as he stopped at the edge of the table and watched the fun.

“Dr. Xipan?” Cash asked, addressing a middle-aged woman that was busy moving two white rocks next to two brown rocks. She did not respond. “Doctor?”

“Busy,” Dr. Xipan replied, her tone dismissive and irritated. “Come back in ten minutes when I win.”

Those that understood English laughed and translated for the others. Normally, the comms system would have translated the language difference, but that part of the system’s programming was one of the many issues Mike was trying to fix. Thus Olivia’s daily issues with the parents.

“Mike needs to see you right away,” Cash continued, unfazed by the doctor’s dismissiveness. “There’s some seismic activity that has him worried. It’s centered close to where Lewis and her team were last heard from.”

Dr. Xipan played two more white rocks and there were loud groans from everyone at the table. She picked up her beer, downed it, then turned to look up and stare at Cash.

“Having a working comm device would allow Mr. DiCenzo to talk to me on his own,” Dr. Xipan said. “Instead of sending a soldier to fetch me.”

“Doctor, I’m not a soldier, I’m…” Cash went quiet as all eyes focused on him. He shook his head. “I’m just the errand boy. Take your issues up with Mike. Or better yet, take them up with my sister and Commander Bloom. All I’m here to do is tell you Mike needs you ASAP.”

“ASAP,” Dr. Xipan said. “As soon as possible.”

“Exactly,” Cash replied and waited. Dr. Xipan did not move to stand. Cash rubbed at his forehead. “Which is shorthand for now.”

“I am not a seismologist,” Dr. Xipan said.

“But you are a geologist, our only geologist, which makes you the expert on base,” Cash said. He downed his beer and nodded to the rest of the Chinese personnel. “I’ve said what I was sent to say. You folks enjoy your beer and your game.”

“You aren’t going to force me to go with you?” Dr. Xipan asked.

“Errand boy, not a stormtrooper,” Cash said. “I’ve completed my errand and now I’m going to get more beer before I have to go back and argue with Mike about a camera.”

“Camera? What does that have to do with seismic activity?” Dr. Xipan asked.

“It’s to head off seismic activity from my lady friend,” Cash said and laughed.

“Cash? Bloom here,” a voice rang out in Cash’s ear.

“Mike has full comms back up,” Cash replied. “Commander Bloom. What can I do for you?”

At the mention of the commander’s name, Dr. Xipan swiveled in her seat to face Cash full on. She was listening and Cash didn’t care.

“Have you located Dr. Xipan?” Bloom asked over the comms.

“I have,” Cash said. “She’s busy.”

“Tell her to stop being busy and meet us in the command hut,” Bloom said. “That’s an order.”

“Yeah, not sure she enjoys orders,” Cash said.

“She can express her lack of enjoyment to me in person when she gets here,” Bloom said. “Attendance is not an option.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Cash said.

“It is not. Be here in five, Cash.”

“Copy that, sir.” The comm went silent and Cash smiled down at Dr. Xipan. “ASAP has arrived and your attendance is now mandatory.”

Cash held up his hands as the Chinese personnel began to shout and argue with him. But Dr. Xipan spoke up before cash could say a word.

“He’s only the errand boy,” the doctor said with a sneer as she stood and joined Cash. “After you, Mr. Cash.”

***

The inside of the command hut was no longer just techs at consoles. It was chaos personified.

Holo displays and vid screens showed various views of Flipside BOP. Many of those views were filled with static, but visible. Bloom’s direct support crew were seated at consoles, busy trying to make the best of the less-than-stellar data they were tasked with interpreting.

The truth was that most of the tech was no longer working at all, let alone properly.

Bloom, a short, pudgy man with thinning gray hair that seemed to blow about whether there was a breeze present or not, stood glaring at the people packed into the cramped space. He wore fatigues with the Australian flag stitched into the shoulders and breast pocket. His hands were the size of dinner plates and looked like they could crush walnuts with barely a squeeze.

Those hands were balled into fists as Mike relayed what he’d discovered earlier and the lack of communication with Lewis and her team.

“Mr. DiCenzo, I am busy trying to work out how we can handle a full-on assault when the Russians decide to travel inland from the coast,” Bloom said, his voice tight but even. “I do not need alarmist worry about earthquakes. This is Dinoside… Flipside, as you Yanks say, and earthquakes are a constant. Your Rocky Mountains are in the process of being created and the continents themselves have yet to fully form into what we are used to back home. A couple of tremors are not worth alarming half the base.”

“Did I alarm half the base?” Mike asked, no longer at his console, but standing in front of a table that took up the center of the room. He had several tablets open and active with data before him. “I haven’t had time to alarm half the base.”

“You will need to thank Tre for the alarm,” Tressa said from Mike’s right. “He decided to make an announcement in the mess.”

“I didn’t make a fucking announcement,” Cash stated from his position by the hut’s door. He was leaning against the wall and trying to keep his bulk from getting in the way. “I told Dr. Xipan and she shared the info with her Chinese friends. What people talk about after I leave is not my concern.”

The hut’s door opened and Ivy walked in, sweat soaking her T-shirt and the top of her fatigue pants.

“What’s this? Trevon Cash isn’t taking responsibility?” she asked as she came inside and shut the door behind her. “What a surprise…”

“Why is everyone up my ass today?” Cash asked.

“No one’s up your ass, buddy,” Raphael “Raff” Bellows said from a seat behind Bloom. He was swiveling back and forth in front of a dead console, a grin plastered to his face. It was his usual grin since Raff seemed to find humor in almost every aspect of life. “You’re just so damn charismatic that folks gravitate to you. And your ass.”

“Operator Bellows?” Bloom said.

“Yes, sir?”

“Shut up.”

“Right away, sir.”

“The reality is that something weirder than usual happened when I lost contact with Lewis,” Mike said. “I’d think, considering she is one of your people, dude, you’d be a bit more concerned.”

“Mr. DiCenzo, we have had this conversation before,” Bloom said with a sigh. “Do not refer to me as dude.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Raff said under his breath.

“Operator Bellows,” Bloom snarled.

“You heard that? Damn, Commander, you’ve got good ears,” Raff said and held his hands up. “I’ll be quiet. I promise.”

“Mike, we are all here because you want us to be here,” Tressa said, sounding very tired. “Can you please explain to us what the emergency is?”

“No, dude, I can’t,” Mike said then pointed at Dr. Xipan who was leaning against the opposite side of the hut’s door. “That’s why she’s here.”

All eyes fell on Dr. Xipan and the short woman stared back with a look of defiance. Then her and Mike’s eyes met and she shrugged, pushed away from the wall, and walked to the table. She studied the tablets for a moment then shook her head.

“I am not a seismologist,” she said. “But this data is fairly straightforward for anyone familiar with the geological issues that arise from the time bubbles.”

She did not continue and Bloom waited several seconds before he pointed one of his huge hands at the woman.

“Care to elaborate, doctor?” Bloom asked.

“Of course,” Dr. Xipan said as if she hadn’t made them all wait. “We are witnessing Turns, as you call them. Time bubbles have appeared and they are rotating between the now and the whenever inside the bubbles.”

“Whoa. Hold up,” Raff said, suddenly very serious. “Time bubbles? As in plural?”

“Yes,” Dr. Xipan answered.

“Oh, okay, just checking,” Raff said. “Continue.”

“Bloody hell,” Bloom muttered. “Yes, Doctor, please continue. How do you know there are multiple time bubbles?”

“The locations of the readings,” Dr. Xipan said. “Mr. DiCenzo has shown me as much data as he could collect and while the majority of tremors occurred close to where Operator Lewis’ team was last heard from, there are signs of some of these tremors originating in other areas, far away from Operator Lewis.”

“Can you tell us where?” Bloom asked.

“No, I cannot, but I can tell in which direction to look,” Dr. Xipan said. She picked up a tablet, swiped at it, then turned it around to show everyone else. “This is where Operator Lewis is said to be. You can see by the graphic that several tremors came from her area.” She swiped again. “But these tremors came from the opposite direction. Operator Lewis is west of Flipside BOP. These tremors came from the southeast. We are dealing with at least two new time bubbles.”

“But you believe there could be more?” Bloom asked.

“I do. The data suggests there are more centers of origin,” Dr. Xipan explained. “Northeast and directly south, perhaps. But southeast is the strongest candidate, so if you plan on investigating then I would send a team in that direction.”

“Send a team…” Bloom growled low in his throat. “I do not have operators to spare to investigate maybes.”

“Sure ya do, Commander,” Raff said. “Cash here hasn’t been out in the field in a while. Same with Haskins, on account of you not trusting an operator that’s missing an arm since the nerve damage rules out a replacement. I’m sure we could round up a couple more misfits and send them out to have a looksee.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, pal,” Cash said.

“Anytime, buddy,” Raff replied and winked. “You know I always have your back.”

“Operator Ellison?” Bloom asked Ivy. “You are Head of Security. Are there two more operators you feel can be spared that I have not assigned to crucial jobs?”

“Yes, sir,” Ivy said. “But I do not believe we will need two more. One will do fine. Operator Bellows would be an excellent candidate.”

“Me? Come on, now. I’m your right hand, Ivy,” Raff said, sitting upright, his tone very serious. “You need me here.”

“I do need my second-in-command here,” Ivy said. “When my second-in-command’s head is in the game. But with your wife back Topside, you have been more than a little distracted these past few weeks, Raff.”

“Great. Send the distracted guy with me,” Cash muttered.

“My head is fully in the game, thank you very much,” Raff said. “You can find someone else.”

“If I send you, then I don’t have to send two operators,” Ivy said. “You with Cash and Haskins are more than enough to accompany Dr. Xipan out into the field to investigate the tremors.”

“I am sorry, but I am not leaving this base,” Dr. Xipan protested. “All that lies outside these walls is death. While our lives are severely limited here in Flipside, they are still lives. I prefer to keep my life so that when a way Topside is found, I can enjoy my return home. By being alive.”

“I’m sorry, Doctor, but you’re the expert,” Bloom said. “You may not be the expert we need, but you are the expert we have. The comms system is too unreliable for you to study any possible findings from here. I need you in the field.”

“I refuse to go,” Dr. Xipan said. She set her feet and crossed her arms over her chest. “If you want me out in the field, then you will have to force me out in the field.”

“Wrong thing to say,” Cash and Raff said at the same time.

Three

“Happy that Mike got you the camera?” Cash asked Barbara as they sat together in the hold of the speed roller that Raff was currently driving, their trajectory taking them southeast across Flipside’s landscape. “Just in time for a field trip.”

“Yes, I’m very happy,” Barbara said as she held the small camera up and waggled it in front of Cash’s face. “I got what I asked for and I get to explore Flipside for a change instead of being forced to stay behind those damn steel walls.”

“Most civilians aren’t too pleased to be outside the walls,” Operator Lucas Haskins said from his seat directly across from Barbara. He hooked a thumb—his only thumb, as he was missing one of his arms—toward the woman seated next to him. The woman was a very enraged Dr. Xipan. “Like that.”

“This could be considered kidnapping,” Dr. Xipan said. “The fact my superiors agreed to allow Commander Bloom to treat me this way will be noted when I return home. Their careers are over.”

“I’m sure that’s their biggest worry right now,” Haskins said. “Nothing like the threat of a geologist talking smack to make hardened military men and women shake in their boots.”

“Dr. Xipan? Would you care to make an official report now?” Barbara asked, turning the camera on the scientist. “I’ll document everything for you.”

“No,” Cash snapped, shutting the possibility down right away. “Save that camera for what really needs to be documented.”

“Everything Flipside needs to be documented, Tre,” Barbara said. “Keeping an honest record of what happens to all of us is just as important as anything else.”

“No, it’s not,” Cash countered. “We have no idea how long that camera will hold out. Mike said he shielded it properly, but Mike has said that about almost everything.”

“Including this speed roller,” Raff called from upfront, his voice coming through the sliding hatch in the center of the partition between the cab and the hold. “So, if this vehicle breaks down, you can document me cursing Mike’s name in the many languages I have picked up over this last year.”

“Again, no,” Cash said. “We save the camera for when we find something. We’ll need a visual record of any new time bubbles we come in contact with. That is why I agreed that you could come along.”

There was silence for a second then everyone, except for Cash and Dr. Xipan, began laughing.

“Oh, that’s a good one, Cash,” Haskins said.

“Brother, you crack me up,” Raff called back.

“Tressa asked me to join this mission,” Barbara said. “I’m here because your boss said for me to be here.”

“She’s not my boss, she’s my sister,” Cash protested.

“And your boss,” Barbara replied.

“But I didn’t have to agree,” Cash said.

“You keep telling yourself that,” Barbara said, but leaned in and kissed his cheek before he could get too pissed off.

“Whatever,” Cash grumbled.

“May I ask why Commander Bloom chose to send us to a new location instead of going after Operator Lewis?” Dr. Xipan asked. “I would think a rescue mission would be in order.”

“Lewis is a capable operator and a capable technician,” Cash replied. “Her team members are also very capable operators. If they are in trouble, then odds are Lewis can get them out of that trouble.”

“Wouldn’t your assistance be even more helpful to her and her team?” Dr. Xipan pushed.

“That would be throwing good operators after a bad situation,” Haskins said. “If the trouble is too much for Lewis then sending us after her and her team could mean losing more operators.”

“And we already have data showing the distinct possibility that a new time bubble is in her direction, so Bloom would prefer we go look for another time bubble,” Dr. Xipan stated, basically answering her own question.

“Bingo was his name-o,” Raff called from up front.

“Then why send this group?” Dr. Xipan asked, a less-than-approving look on her face. “A one-armed operator. An operator with two useless knees, and exo-braces that could short out at any second, and a news reporter.”

“You left out Raff,” Haskins said.

“Because he is the only capable member of this group,” Dr. Xipan said. “I was listing the liabilities.”

“Team,” Cash said.

“Excuse me?” Dr. Xipan asked.

“We’re a team, not a group. A group goes to the museum,” Cash stated.

“My apologies,” Dr. Xipan said, not sounding apologetic in the least. “I will use the proper terminology from now on.”

“You want to know why Bloom sent us and not a full team of operators?” Cash asked. It sounded like a rhetorical question, but he waited until Dr. Xipan finally nodded. “Because time bubbles and dinos are not our main problem Flipside.”

“Russians!” Raff bellowed from the front. “Those damn stinking Russians!”

“The Russians,” Cash said, rolling his eyes. “They had to have landed at the coast months ago.”

“Then why have they not attacked?” Dr. Xipan asked.

“No way to know for sure,” Cash explained. “They could be preparing for a full assault. They could be having the same tech issues we’re having.”

“Doubt that,” Raff said. “They developed the shielding tech that Mike is trying to copy. Lewis thought she had it, but the way our equipment keeps breaking down, all she found was a temporary fix.”

“Which could be the same for the Russians,” Barbara said.

“True that,” Raff replied.

“You are expendable,” Dr. Xipan said, sneering at everyone in the hold. “That is why Bloom agreed to send you.”

“Think what you want, Doctor, but no one is expendable,” Cash said. “Haskins survived for months without an arm before we arrived Flipside. He’s more than capable of handling himself in the field.”

“Handling,” Haskins said and chuckled as he held up his one hand.

“And you, Operator Cash?” Dr. Xipan asked. “Or is it Security Consultant Cash? Weren’t you held accountable and demoted when the first incident occurred while Flipside was still Topside?”

“Call me whatever you want, Doctor, but I used to have Ivy’s job,” Cash said. “I know Flipside and I know how to keep us alive while we’re out investigating all this shit. You listen to me, do what I say when I say it, and I’ll get you back to Flipside BOP in one piece.”

“Hopefully,” Haskins said and waved his stump.

“Will you knock that off?” Cash snapped.

“Nope,” Haskins said. “Humor is how I cope.”

“I hear that, brother!” Raff cheered.

He reached an arm back through the hatch and Haskins leaned forward to fist bump him.

“I feel so secure with you professionals,” Dr. Xipan said.

“Raff? How we looking?” Cash asked. “ETA?”

“Probably another hour?” Raff replied. “We’re guessing at the exact location, so it could be more or it could be less.”

“Fine,” Cash said and leaned his head back against the wall of the hold. He closed his eyes and settled in.

“You’re going to sleep?” Dr. Xipan exclaimed.

“Grab it when you can,” Cash said without opening his eyes. “You never know when you’ll have a chance to sleep out in the field.”

***

Lewis woke up shivering. She could feel the fever burning through her body.

“Good. You’re awake,” Wellstone said. He held out a canteen to her. “Drink.”

Lewis blinked a few times, realized they were up on top of the speed roller, then nodded at Wellstone.

“How’s Carter?” Lewis asked as she gratefully took the canteen and sipped. She didn’t dare gulp or she feared she’d vomit the precious water back up.

“Didn’t make it,” Wellstone answered. “Too much blood loss. Poor guy.”

“The body?”

“In the cab. We can move it to the hold once we have a handle on our next move and Transk wakes up.”

“And how is Transk?”

“Looking like shit,” Wellstone said. “He’s down in the hold with Nochez. She’s monitoring his condition.”

Lewis tried to sit, but only managed to prop herself up onto her elbows. She stared at the setting sun that was lowering behind the far, far-off time bubble. The sunset’s glow mixed with the glow of the fire and lava from within the time bubble to create a brilliant light show of reds and oranges.

“Where are the wingers? The teeth?” Lewis asked.

“Gone for now,” Wellstone said with a shrug. “After Carter was stabbed, and you and Transk were knocked out, I dropped a couple before they broke off their attack. Headed east. The teeth barely gave us a second look once we reached the speed roller. None of them would get within a hundred meters of us. I think they didn’t like the smell of the vehicle.”

Lewis sniffed, but her nose was stuffed up.

“What smell?” she asked.

“Fuel cells are busted. The shielding didn’t hold,” Wellstone replied. “The roller is dead for now.”

“We have solar panels,” Lewis said and coughed. It was a wet and thick cough. She caught Wellstone’s look of worry and waved him off. “I’m fine. Just weak.”

“You think I haven’t been checking your vitals?” Wellstone asked. “If so, then you’re crazy, mate. Your fever is nearly forty degrees. Your wounds are infected.”

“Too fast for an infection to set in,” Lewis said. The cough that followed her statement did not help her cause. “Forget me, mate, what about the solar panels? Why are we up here instead of the solar panels? We can trickle power to the motor and at least—”

“I tried, Lewis,” Wellstone said. “Fuel cells fried the motor when they burst. Feedback or something. Who fucking knows? Tech don’t work right in this Hell. Never has, never will.”

“We can’t just stay here, Wellstone,” Lewis snapped. It was a weak snap, but still managed to convey the venom she’d intended. “That new bubble is too close. More wingers will come out at some point. We also have the native wingers to deal with. And native teeth.”

“Teeth I’m not so worried about,” Wellstone said and gently patted Lewis’s right shoulder. He shifted out of her way so she had a clear view of the landscape to the north. “See?”

Less than a click away, but far enough that they didn’t present any immediate threat, was a massive herd of dinosaurs. For as far as she could see in the evening’s dusk were Triceratops of all ages and sizes. Working the Australian bubble meant she’d witnessed plenty of impressive dino sightings, but nothing like the herd to the north of them at that moment.

“Christ,” Lewis said then sighed and lay back down. “How many you think is in that herd?”

“Several hundred,” Wellstone said. “I’ve been watching them closely. They’re taking a wide route away from the new bubble. Same with winger flocks. One got curious and headed our way then veered off fast. The natives don’t like the new bubble any more than we do.”

“That herd of herbivores is keeping the teeth away and the sight of the bubble is keeping the wingers away,” Lewis said. She smiled. “Nature’s on our side for once.”

“Until, like you said, more wingers or teeth come out of the new bubble,” Wellstone said. “At least the perimeter of the bubble is holding. It’s not expanding anymore. So we got that going for us, mate.”

Lewis didn’t respond. Her eyes were closed, but her breathing was steady. Wellstone let her sleep.

***

As the sun set behind the wall, Bloom stood close to the command hut, his hands on his hips, brow furrowed in concentration.

“You trying to will the sun to come back up?” Ivy asked as she stepped up next to Bloom. “Good luck with that, Commander.”

“Wondering what’s taking the Russians so goddamn long to come after us,” Bloom said after a moment’s hesitation. “They should have been here weeks ago, at the latest.”

He fell silent and glared at the purple and pink sky that was quickly turning to a dusky blue.

“Maybe something happened to them,” Ivy said. “Flipside is still Flipside even with the tech the Russians have developed. We’re all intruders here.”

“Could be,” Bloom responded. “Wouldn’t that be a lucky stroke for us? Have the Russians get taken out by nature instead of our superior fighting ability.”

“Superior fighting ability…” Ivy chuckled. “You pick strange times to sound optimistic.”

“Was that optimism? I’ve seen how this group fights. We have a shot against the Russians when they do show up,” Bloom said. “If they do show up…”

Bloom rubbed his forehead then turned to face Ivy.

“We should talk about your afternoon disappearances,” Bloom said.

Ivy opened her mouth, a look of protest on her face, then closed her mouth and nodded.

“Where?” Ivy asked.

“Walk with me,” Bloom said and headed for the perimeter wall.

They walked past busy personnel working to prep the base for the night shift. Power cables were being double checked and klieg lights slowly switched on as dusk turned quickly into night. Darkness over took Flipside fast. No outside light pollution to speak of. No reflection of man’s blasphemy off the cloud cover above. When it was night, it was night.

Bloom and Ivy reached the wall and walked along beside it. They weren’t the only members of the base that walked the perimeter. A well-worn path had been cut into the dirt. Above them, stationed every few meters, were guards on the wall’s walkway, but the guards’ attention was on what was potentially outside the wall, not what was walking within. The two operators had as much privacy as they needed.

“Every afternoon, your comm is switched off for about an hour,” Bloom asked. “Why?”

“Personal time,” Ivy stated.

“I had to assume as much. May I ask what this personal time is for and why you have never asked me for authorization to switch off your comm?”

“I’m Head of Security, commander. I do not have to ask your permission to switch off my comm for a private, personal matter.”

“I beg to differ.”

They walked in silence for a few meters, tracing the slow curve of the perimeter wall. The calls of nocturnal pterosaurs could be heard, but they were far off and none of the wall guards raised any alarms.

“Have you cleared this with Ms. Thompson?” Bloom asked after a couple minutes of walking quietly.

“Not that I need to, but, yes,” Ivy said. “She’s been aware of this for a while.”

“Hmmm,” Bloom responded. “And are you alone during this personal time?”

“I’d rather not say either way, Commander,” Ivy said.

She stopped walking and Bloom stopped as well. He turned to her, half his face lost in shadow, the other half lit up brightly by a nearby klieg light.

“What I am asking is whether or not I can rely on you, Operator Ellison,” Bloom said. “Tell me I can and I’ll believe you. No more prying unless your time off comms becomes a liability.”

“You can rely on me,” Ivy said. “And, for the record, Mike knows where I am and why. Please do not ask him to break my confidence, but if there is an emergency that I am not aware of, speak with him. He’ll take you to me.”

“I wish you would be open with me on this, Ivy,” Bloom said, his tone softening. “I’m not the hard case everyone thinks I am.”

“Oh, you are definitely the hard case everyone thinks you are, sir,” Ivy said and smiled. “But I understand what you are saying.”

There was gunfire across the base and both Bloom and Ivy gripped their sidearms. But the gunfire stopped almost as fast as it had started and the “all good” was relayed across the base.

“Couple curious wingers,” a voice said over general comms.

“Good work,” Bloom replied.

“Sir?” Ivy asked.

“Yes?”

“I’ll see if I can share more after tomorrow,” Ivy said. “But it isn’t completely up to me.”

“You understand that a statement like that piques my interest even more, right?” Bloom said.

“My apologies, Commander,” Ivy said. “But it is the best I can do.”

“Am I going to be upset by any revelations you do finally offer to me?”

“You might be. I hope not.”

Bloom studied Ivy’s shadowed face then nodded.

“Very well,” he said and held out an arm. “Care to finish the walk or do you have other plans?”

“I’ll walk until we’re in line with the mess,” Ivy said. “I’m hoping there’s some beer left.”

“There had better be or everyone on this base will really see my hard case side,” Bloom said with a laugh.

The two continued walking.

***

“This is hardly a comfortable sleeping arrangement,” Dr. Xipan complained as she lay across the left-side seats in the speed roller’s hold. “Do we not have access to folding cots or sleeping pads we can put outside? I am a geologist and more than experienced with sleeping in the field.”

“Go for it, Doc,” Raff called from the driver’s seat up front. “You ever been this far southeast of the base before?”

“No, Operator Bellows, I have not,” Dr. Xipan replied.

“Neither have any of us,” Raff said. “So, feel free to sleep outside and be the first to say hello to all the fun fauna that come for a sniff in the night. Bet you’ll make some great friends.”

“You get used to it,” Haskins said as he laid across the right side seats.

“Do you?” Dr. Xipan asked.

“No. Not really,” Haskins admitted. “But it’s a lie we all tell ourselves so we can sleep.”

“I am not the self-delusional type, Operator Haskins,” Dr. Xipan said.

“Can you all hush down?” Barbara asked as she peeked her head in through the top hatch of the speed roller’s hold. “Doesn’t matter where we sleep if someone keeps talking.”

“Second that,” Cash’s voice called down from above as well.

“And they aren’t worried about the fauna sniffing them?” Dr. Xipan asked.

“Cash is on first watch,” Raff said. “So he better not be sleeping.”

“Trying to listen, is what I’m doing,” Cash said. “We’ll hear wingers or teeth approaching before we see them in this darkness. But I can’t hear shit while you jabber.”

“What I wouldn’t give for working NVGs,” Raff said. “Sigh.”

“NVGs?” Dr. Xipan asked.

“Night vision goggles,” Haskins answered. “Last working pair died a week ago. Scopes on our rifles are still working, so that’s nice.”

“Very nice,” Raff agreed.

“Easier to listen,” Cash called down. “If you all would shut the fuck up.”

“Trying to, buddy,” Raff said.

“Same,” Haskins said.

“Oh, well, I suppose that means I’m—” Dr. Xipan started then shut up as a loud call from outside the speed roller startled her into silence.

Barbara dropped down into the hold and was quickly followed by Cash. Cash firmly closed and locked the hatch above them.

“I don’t know that call,” Raff said.

“Me neither,” Cash said and squeezed his bulk through the hatch up front and crawled into the cab.

“Winger or teeth?” Raff asked.

“I don’t know,” Cash said. “That’s why I’m in the vehicle with you and not still up top.”

“Smart move, buddy.”

“Thanks.”

The call came again, much closer.

“I don’t see movement,” Raff whispered.

“Could be out of our line of sight,” Cash whispered back.

The speed roller shook violently as something collided with the right side of the hold. The call came a third time and there was no mistaking the fact it was directly outside the speed roller. The vehicle shook again.

“Shit,” Raff exclaimed and pointed. “There!”

The world outside the windshield was pitch black, but even in that blackness movement could be seen. A lot of movement. Large shapes were thrashing around in the grasses. It was impossible to see any details, but the shapes were big enough that they created nearly unseen silhouettes against the parts of the sky not covered by clouds.

The speed roller rocked from the other side then slid to the left about half a meter before coming to a stop.

“Fuck me,” Haskins said as he stuck his head in through the hatch. “What the hell is big enough around here to shove a speed roller across dry ground?”

“I don’t want to find out,” Raff said. “So shush the mouth, buddy.”

“Right,” Haskins whispered.

“Can it get inside?” Dr. Xipan cried.

“Jesus Christ,” Cash said. “No, Doctor, it can’t get inside.”

“How can you be sure?” Dr. Xipan asked.

“Shut up,” Barbara hissed.

“Good idea,” Cash agreed.

“Can it get inside?” Haskins whispered. “That was a big hit.”

The shapes outside the windshield continued moving about. Cash, Raff, and Haskins stared at them.

Then staying quiet was no longer an option as the windshield was splattered with blood and gore just before something large and long was slammed into the mesh reinforced glass. The something squirmed for a moment then went still and slowly slid off the windshield and onto the stubby hood of the speed roller.

Cash, Raff, and Haskins leaned forward.

“I can’t see,” Haskins whispered. “What is it?”

Cash fished a flashlight from his belt and twisted the cap until red light illuminated the speed roller’s cab. Then he aimed the light out the windshield and onto whatever was still on the hood.

“Snake,” Cash said. “Big snake. Gutted.”

“Yeah, buddy, I can see the guts,” Raff said and pointed at the offal still affixed to part of the windshield. “But is it dead?”

“Looks dead,” Cash said. “I’m not going out to check.”

The snake was whisked off the hood as a massive set of jaws clamped down on it and yanked the body back into the darkness. More thrashing shapes were silhouetted against the brief view of stars. Several calls shook the night then the shapes were gone. The calls came again one last time, much farther off, then the night returned to stillness.

“Nope,” Haskins said. “Not sleeping tonight.”

“No shit,” Raff said. “I thought I’d seen it all in Flipside.”

Dr. Xipan laughed loudly then quieted down. “We have seen nothing this land has to offer.”

***

Wellstone’s throat felt raw and constricted. He swallowed hard and opened his eyes as the warmth of the sunrise hit his face.

Then he cried out as he stared directly into the curious eyes of a dinosaur he did not recognize.

The dino squawked loudly and fell back away from the top of the speed roller. It had been clinging to the side rail, but let go as it leapt into the air, twisted, and landed on all fours down in the dirt. The creature scrambled away as Wellstone pushed up onto his knees and grabbed for his rifle.

Wellstone racked the slide and paused. Too many targets to take aim at.

The speed roller was surrounded by two dozen of the creatures. They stood on hind legs or crouched on all fours in a nearly perfect circle set back about twenty meters from the vehicle.

“Lewis,” Wellstone said. “You still with me?”

Wellstone turned in a slow circle on his knees, confirming that the speed roller was surrounded. He also confirmed that Lewis was still with him by the unsteady rise and fall of her chest. The breathing was a good sign, but her pallor was gray and she had dried blood crusted around her nostrils.

“Shit. That ain’t good,” Wellstone said before he tucked his face into the crook of his arm and coughed hard. He pulled back and saw flecks of blood against his shirt sleeve. “No. Not good at all.”

His coughing was answered by several curious squawks from the strange dinos. The circle shifted and three of the dinos came in closer, the rest closing ranks, keeping the circle tight.

“Hold up now,” Wellstone grunted.

The more he spoke, the more pain erupted in his throat. It felt like knives were digging into his trachea. He took a deep breath, hoping that would soothe things, but the pain doubled.

“Nochez?” Wellstone called down through the top hatch of the speed roller. “Nochez!”

“What?” Nochez asked as she peeked her head out of the hatch. “My shift already?”

“We got visitors,” Wellstone replied.

Nochez gave him a concerned look that was easy to make out in the glow still coming from the time bubble.

“How are you feeling?” Nochez asked.

“Don’t worry about me, mate,” Wellstone replied. “Worry about them.”

Nochez climbed up and eased around the sleeping Lewis. She calmly studied the circle of dinos and the three that were moving closer and closer to the speed roller.

“They must have come from the bubble,” Nochez said.

“I figured that,” Wellstone replied.

“We can put a couple rounds at their feet and see if that breaks up the party,” Nochez suggested.

“Or it could piss them all off and they attack,” Wellstone countered. “I woke up to one hanging from the rail and staring at me.”

“You woke up? You’re on watch, Wellstone,” Nochez snapped.

“Yeah, well, I ain’t feeling so great, mate,” Wellstone admitted then doubled over with a coughing fit.

Even in the dim light from the bubble, it was easy to see the splatters of blood Wellstone coughed all over the top of the speed roller. There was a squawk from behind the two operators and both spun about on their knees, although Wellstone’s spin was considerably weaker than Nochez’s.

One of the new dinos was peering up over the edge of the top of the speed roller. It glanced from Nochez to Wellstone, its nostrils flared wide. It made a sound of alarm and disgust then dropped back to the ground.

“Smart little buggers,” Wellstone said. He coughed hard and continued. “They distracted us so a scout could sneak up behind.”

“But it didn’t attack,” Nochez said. Her eyes went from the dino that was busy retreating back into the circle to Wellstone, then to the splatter of blood. “I don’t think they like how you smell.”

“Not like I can shower out in the bush, mate,” Wellstone said.

“That’s not what I mean,” Nochez said.

Wellstone opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a wet cough that nearly forced him onto his side.

“Let’s get you and Lewis down inside,” Nochez said. “Forget these new dinos and forget watch. Transk is looking worse too. We need to hole up until help comes.”

“They’ll close in,” Wellstone said, nodding at the circle of dinos.

“Let them,” Nochez said. “We’ll be safe enough.”

Wellstone nodded, coughed hard, coughed even harder, then couldn’t stop coughing.

He coughed the entire time he helped Nochez get Lewis safely inside the speed roller’s hold. He pulled a handkerchief from a pocket and wrapped it around his mouth before dropping down inside. The handkerchief was already damp with blood and saliva before he got the hatch closed and sealed.

Four

“Mike to Cash,” Mike called over the comms. His eyes were red with lack of sleep as he stared at the comm console. “Cash, come on, dude.”

Only static.

Mike nearly punched the console, but slumped back in his chair instead.

“Nothing?” Tressa asked as she walked into the hut. “I thought they were dropping relays along the way?”

“They were supposed to,” Mike said. “I don’t get it, dude. Everything was working fine until a few weeks ago. Now the tech is dying faster than anyone can build or repair it. I shielded all of those relays properly. Even at the current rate of malfunction, the relays should have lasted for at least three or four days. They didn’t even survive twenty-four hours.”

Tressa sat down in an empty chair next to Mike and handed him a steaming mug of “mud.” It was what they called the coffee in Flipside BOP. A mixture of the remaining coffee and black tea left on base, plus native plants that everyone had been assured were not poisonous. Considering how the stuff tasted, no one quite believed that last part.

Mike grimaced as he sipped, but he kept sipping until half the mud was gone.

“It’s growing on me, dude,” Mike said.

“Is it?” Tressa asked.

“No.”

“Didn’t think so.”

Mike rubbed at his eyes and dragged his palms down his face then turned to face Tressa.

“Ivy swung by earlier,” Mike said.

“And…?”

“Bloom is wondering where she goes each afternoon.”

“Did she tell him?”

“Not yet.”

“And Bloom hasn’t noticed that a few others go off comms at that same time?”

“If he has, then he didn’t mention it to Ivy.” Mike frowned. “Gonna have to tell him at some point, dude.”

“Not until Ivy gives the okay,” Tressa replied. “It’s taken a lot for her to put that group together. Bloom finds out that it’s a support group for folks that no longer have access to the meds they need and he’ll start pulling people from duty. Ivy included.”

“I know, dude.”

“We need Ivy in the position she’s in.”

“I know, dude!” Mike shook his head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just so fucking tired.”

“Aren’t we all,” Tressa said and stood up. She finished her mud and nodded at Mike’s mug. “You want more?”

“I don’t think my bowels can take more,” Mike replied.

“I hear ya there,” Tressa said. “Call me if you hear anything.”

“You know I will, dude.”

Tressa left and Mike sat up straight. He tapped at the console.

“Mike to Cash. Come in, Cash. Dude! Just give me a click or something!”

***

“Sixty feet long?” Raff asked as he and Cash stood over the shredded corpse of the massive, prehistoric snake. “Seventy?”

“It ain’t nothing now,” Cash said. “Look at it. Whatever attacked it—”

“And ate most of it,” Raff interrupted.

“And ate most of it. Whatever did that to this thing was pissed off as much as it was hungry.”

“Rage eating,” Raff said and turned his face toward the dawn sun. “Great. We can add that to the fucked-up stuff we deal with Flipside.”

“There’s noise,” Dr. Xipan said from up top the speed roller. “Coming from the cab.”

“Static from the comms,” Haskins said as he joined Dr. Xipan up top. He turned away from her, slung his rifle by its strap, and unzipped his fly one handed.

“Are you serious?” Dr. Xipan exclaimed.

“I gotta piss,” Haskins said. “You can go down and piss too or I can hold your hand while you hang your ass over if you don’t want to get down.”

“I’ll get down,” Dr. Xipan said.

She quickly climbed down from the top of the speed roller and went around back where no one could see her.

“This is more than static,” Barbara said, hanging her head out the side window of the speed roller as she sat in the passenger’s seat. “I hear a voice.”

“That’s good,” Cash said. “Try dialing it in. Raff and I are going to check these tracks out.”

“We are?” Raff asked. “Shouldn’t we keep going? Search for the time bubble while we have daylight?”

Cash patted Raff on the shoulder then walked over to the first set of tracks. He pointed down with the barrel of his rifle.

“You ever seen tracks like those?” Cash asked.

Raff sighed, walked to Cash’s side, stared down at the tracks, and shook his head.

“Nope.”

“Me neither. And I’ve never come across a snake like that before,” Cash said. “Where do you suppose they came from?”

“A new time bubble?” Raff replied.

“Good answer. Now, what happens if we follow these tracks? You think maybe they’ll lead us to the time bubble better than if we hop in that speed roller and just drive southeast like we did all day yesterday?”

“You can drop the superior tone, asshole,” Raff said. “I get the point.”

“Good.”

“I’m also your boss, buddy. Don’t forget.”

“No way I can.” Cash faced the speed roller once more. “Take care of business, people. We’re back on the move in twenty.”

“Cash! I have someone on the comm!” Barbara called.

Cash and Raff shared a look of confusion mixed with a healthy dose of suspicion.

“I’m gonna dig a hole and take care of business,” Raff said and nodded at the speed roller. “You handle the comm.”

“Copy that,” Cash said and jogged to the window where Barbara was holding the comms handset. “Is it Mike?”

“It’s not Mike,” Barbara said and turned up the volume. “It’s not even English.”

The voice was faint and the signal was mostly static, but there was for sure someone on the other end of the comms. Cash listened for a minute then his eyes widened.

“Russian,” he said. “That’s Russian.”

“Is it?” Barbara listened for a few seconds. “Too much static. I can’t tell.”

“It’s Russian,” Cash said with confidence. “And by the sound of it, that’s a call for help.”

“How do you know that?” Barbara asked.

“Listen closely. They repeat the same phrase over and over, but their tone is full of panic.”

“So Russians are broadcasting on an open channel and asking for help? That seem right?”

“No.”

“What’s up?” Haskins asked as he stood on the top of the speed roller, looking down at Cash. “Did I hear we have Russians close by?”

“Maybe,” Cash replied. “No way to tell where they are. But they have to be close enough for us to pick up the signal.”

“They could be piggybacking off the relays we dropped,” Haskins suggested.

“If the relays are working, then why isn’t Mike answering when we call?” Barbara countered.

“Good point. This must be a direct radio to radio transmission,” Cash said. “Raff!”

“What?” Raff called as he squatted behind the tall grass that was everywhere.

“Can you track a comms signal?”

“Probably! Why does Mike need a signal tracked?”

“It’s not Mike!”

“Really? Who is it?”

“Russians!”

“Russians? Shit. Hold on.” They all waited then Raff joined them after a couple of minutes. “I didn’t get to finish my crossword.”

“Fuck off and listen,” Cash said.

Raff listened. Dr. Xipan had joined them by then also and the entire group stood or sat with their heads tilted as they tried to make out what was being said.

“Definitely sounds like a distress call,” Cash said.

“It is,” Dr. Xipan said. “They are desperate for anyone to hear them. They have run out of food and water and are trapped in their vehicle.”

“You speak Russian?” Barbara asked.

“None of you do?” Dr. Xipan pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. “Americans…”

“Yes, Americans suck. We know,” Raff said. “We’ve become dependent on our comms translators which aren’t working since comms aren’t working. We get it. Moving on. So, Doc, you can understand Russian. Can you speak it? Well enough to communicate with whoever is on the other end and maybe get us to them?”

Cash frowned at Raff. “Do we want to go to them?”

“You’re the one that wanted the signal tracked,” Raff replied.

“Tracked, sure, but so we can avoid them, not go rescue them.”

“Cash, brother, we’ve been waiting in suspense for months for the Russians to show up and now we have Russians. And they are ten kinds of fucked. Seems to me that going and finding them might be a good idea. In fact, I’ll bet you next week’s beer rations that Bloom would rather us bring back some living Russians than data on a new time bubble.”

“Not if that time bubble can get us home,” Barbara said.

“That,” Cash said and pointed at Barbara. “Time bubbles get us home, Raff. Russians don’t. And sure as shit not Russians that are stranded and calling for help.”

“Unless it’s a trap,” Haskins suggested. “Lure us in then pounce like Russians do.”

“Russians pounce?” Barbara asked. “Never seen a pouncing Russian before.”

“They’re all about the pouncing,” Haskins said. “Because of all the ballet.”

“My vote is on time bubble,” Cash said.

“Not a democracy,” Raff said. “My orders are we find these Russians and wrap them like Christmas presents for Bloom. Anyone care to argue with my orders? Anyone?”

“Could be a trap,” Haskins muttered.

“I don’t think it is,” Dr. Xipan said. “The voice is very sincere. They sound afraid.”

“Then that’s settled,” Raff said. “I’ll drive. Barbara will co-pilot so she can help us dial in the signal. Haskins, you’re up top. Cash and Dr. Xipan will be in the hold until we find the Russians.”

“Up top?” Haskins asked.

“Chill,” Raff said. “We haven’t seen wingers since yesterday.” Raff glanced up at the sky and frowned. “Which is weird…”

“Not even birds,” Barbara said.

“We can birdwatch later,” Cash said. “Right now, we need to consider something.”

“Such as?” Raff asked.

“What if we don’t find them?” Cash asked. “You setting a time limit on this snipe hunt?”

“Snipe hunt? What is a snipe?” Dr. Xipan asked.

“Imaginary creature used to play practical jokes on kids while camping,” Raff said.

Dr. Xipan threw her arms in the air and walked to the back of the speed roller. “Americans…”

“Let’s load up and get back rollin’,” Raff said.

“You didn’t answer my question, Raff,” Cash insisted.

“Nope. I didn’t.”

***

Wellstone felt he would go mad if the constant scratching of claws didn’t stop soon. All he could hear was the echo of the scratching bouncing off the interior walls of the speed roller’s hold. That and his bloody coughs. Coughs that were getting weaker and weaker by the minute.

“Nochez?” Wellstone called.

“Right here,” Nochez said and patted Wellstone on the chest as he lay on the floor of the hold next to a sleeping Lewis. “You thirsty? We have water to spare.”

“No, we don’t,” Wellstone replied then coughed for a couple minutes straight before he managed to stop. His lips and chin were sticky from blood and mucus. He went to wipe the gunk away, but his hand touched a soggy handkerchief instead that had been placed over his mouth to keep the spray at bay. “Can you do something about those damn dinos?”

“I tried,” Nochez said. “They don’t care about loud noises. And last time I opened the hatch, three of them tried to get inside.”

“Oh…” Wellstone struggled to take in a full breath. He gave up and only filled his lungs halfway before letting out a long, agonized wheeze.

“Antibiotics aren’t working,” Nochez said. “You’re getting worse.”

“Lewis?” Wellstone asked.

“I can’t wake her,” Nochez said and hesitated.

“What?”

“Transk is dead,” Nochez responded. “I put his body in the cab with Carter.”

“Shit,” Wellstone said. “Godspeed, mate.”

“Here. Drink,” Nochez said and moved the handkerchief so she could tip a canteen to Wellstone’s lips.

The man didn’t argue even though he knew their water supply was getting low. He drank slowly then coughed most of it back up, spraying bloody water all over Nochez.

“Sorry,” he gasped.

“It’s alright,” Nochez said. “I have Transk piss all over me already.”

Wellstone tried to study Nochez’s face, but the speed roller’s hold was too dim.

“How are you feeling?” Wellstone asked.

“Me? I’m fine,” Nochez admitted. “I don’t know why.”

“No fever? Coughing? Nothing?” Wellstone asked.

“Nothing,” Nochez answered. “If the roller worked, I’d drive us out of here.”

“Comms?”

“Dead.”

“Like Carter and Transk…”

“Yeah…”

A cracking sound came from the cab and Wellstone tried to sit up on his elbows to get a look. Nochez pushed him back flat.

“I’ll check it out,” she said.

“Careful, mate,” Wellstone warned. “That sounded like glass.”

“The glass in the cab is mesh reinforced,” Nochez replied. She opened the hatch between the hold and the cab slowly anyway.

She shut it fast.

“They can break through mesh,” Nochez announced.

“Carter and Transk?” Wellstone asked.

“Lunch,” Nochez said, her voice catching.

“Fuck…”

Nochez sat heavily on one of the benches in the hold. She held her head in her hands and sighed deeply. “How have they not found us yet?”

“You know Bloom, mate,” Wellstone said. “He doesn’t throw good operators after bad Dinoside. I mean, Flipside. Don’t know why we have to use the Yanks’ name for this place.”

“You Aussies are the only ones that call it Dinoside,” Nochez said.

“Makes more sense than Flipside.”

“Except it sounds like a kids’ petting zoo. Flipside has a more—”

“Yeah, yeah, heard it all before, mate.”

Wellstone curled up into a ball as he coughed and coughed. Nochez wet a cloth and crouched over him, wiping at his lips and chin, removing the constant splatter of blood. After several minutes, Wellstone’s body unclenched and he relaxed.

Then Lewis started to shake.

“She’s seizing,” Nochez exclaimed. “Transk didn’t do that. What do I do?”

“Fuck if I know,” Wellstone whispered. His strength was gone and he could barely breathe. “Hold her still.”

Before Nochez could do anything, Lewis went still on her own. Very still.

“Shit,” Nochez said and placed a finger to her neck. “Shit!”

Nochez began CPR by pumping Lewis’s chest. She almost started to give mouth to mouth, but stopped herself. The bloody foam bubbling from between Lewis’s lips was a bright red warning.

“Good…call…mate,” Wellstone said.

Nochez pumped Lewis’s chest a few more times then gave up. All she was doing was forcing blood to flow more quickly from Lewis’s nostrils and mouth.

“Dammit,” Nochez muttered as she fell back onto her ass, defeated.

“You…tried,” Wellstone whispered.

“What I need to try is to see if I can get this damn roller moving again,” Nochez said and got to her feet.

She hurried to the hatch, opened it, slammed it shut, then turned and put her back to the hatch.

“Jesus! How could I forget?” Nochez gasped.

“I was gonna…say something,” Wellstone said with a smirk.

“Kiss my ass,” Nochez replied and slid down the wall to the floor.

***

“Sir?” Ivy said as she knocked on Bloom’s hut’s doorframe.

“Yes, Operator Ellison?” Bloom asked. He set a ratty paperback down on the side table next to his cot.

“I’d like to speak to you about sending out another team,” Ivy said.

“Operator Bellows’ team has barely been gone twenty-four hours,” Bloom replied.

“I know, but I’d like to send a team after Lewis, sir,” Ivy said. “They’ve been gone longer and should be back by now.”

“Considering the seismic anomalies, I am not surprised they haven’t returned,” Bloom said. “Are you?”

“No, sir.”

“And you know my position on sending teams after teams after teams, correct?”

“I do, sir, but—”

“Then I’m unsure as to what we are talking about, Operator Ellison. We have limited resources. Every time we send a team out, we risk losing the resources they take with them. From equipment, to food and water. Eventually, the Russians will arrive and if they do so while I have too many operators out looking for each other then we will not have the personnel here at Flipside BOP to repel an attack.”

“I understand that, sir, but—”

“There are no buts in this scenario, operator. If you understand my position, then what are you here to discuss?”

“I was hoping to change your mind.”

Bloom chuckled. “Have you spoken to many of my operators? The ones from Australia that I have lived and fought with for years now?”

“Of course, sir. As Head of Security, it is my job to speak to every single operator.”

“Have any of them given you the impression that I change my mind often?”

“No, sir.”

“Have any of them given you the impression that I change my mind at all?”

“No, sir.”

“Then you are wasting both our time.”

“I don’t believe I am, sir. What you said about limited personnel is exactly why I am here. Sir, in my opinion, we cannot stand to lose a single man or woman. If Lewis’s team needs our help, then we should go help them and bring them back. Even if we save only one member of that team, that’s a member we can use here at Flipside BOP.”

“What if we lose more operators instead of saving Lewis and her team?”

“That, sir, is the risk we take. It is why we are here. As much as Tyrel Thompson, and Tressa Thompson, tried to make Flipside look like a tourist resort, it is not and never has been. This is a military installation. And I am a military operator. I am trained to be out in the field, sir, as are the rest of the operators. Send us out in the field, sir. Let us do our jobs.”

“I fear, Operator Ellison, that we are going to go round and round with this subject.”

“That is not my intention, sir.”

Bloom chuckled again. “No, your intention is to win this argument.”

“I do like winning, sir.”

“Then let me ask you this. When you leave here without winning, will you directly disobey my orders and put together a team anyway? When I call for an evening briefing with all operators, how many will I see missing?”

“That depends on how hard you look, sir,” Ivy said, completely serious, without a single note of humor or sarcasm in her voice.

Bloom’s chuckle became a growling sigh. He rubbed at his face, looked at his dog-eared paperback, then stood up from his cot.

“If you are going to do this, then it should be official and on the books,” Bloom said. “Assemble your team and meet in the command hut in fifteen minutes. Will that be enough time for you?”

“More than enough, sir,” Ivy responded.

“You have them already assembled, don’t you?”

“They are not assembled, sir, but they are prepped to be ready at my notice.”

“Then notify them. See you in fifteen minutes.”

Ivy nodded, turned, and left. Bloom watched her go then walked to the open door and stared out at the bustle of Flipside BOP. He hoped he wasn’t making a grave mistake.

***

“Alright, dudes, here is the part of all this that is freaking me out,” Mike said as he swiveled in his chair to face the assembled operators.

Ivy was present with her team—Morgan, Canadian, male; DeLuca, American, female; Blumhouse, British, male; Cosio, American, female—as well as Commander Bloom and Tressa Thompson. They all watched Mike closely as he brought up a holo grid of Flipside. The grid extended for hundreds of miles, having been compiled on the journey from the coast back to Flipside BOP.

“This here?” Mike pointed at a red dot on the holo grid. “This is where we last heard from Lewis and her team.” The holo shifted perspectives to show a different red dot. “This is where we last heard from Raff and his team.”

“Cash would not be happy to hear it called that,” Tressa muttered and received a few quiet laughs and several nods of agreement.

“This is the thing,” Mike said. “These dots? Those are the transponders for the speed rollers.”

“Which are no longer working,” Bloom stated.

“That’s what I thought,” Mike said. “Except I’ve been studying the data for a few hours now and I don’t think they stopped working. Watch.”

Mike swiped at the holo and the Lewis dot retreated from its last known location all the way back to Flipside BOP. Then Mike swiped again and the dot moved forward at an accelerated speed then blinked off.

“Same with Raff,” Mike said and repeated the demonstration with Raff’s dot.

“Alright,” Bloom said. “We see where the signals are lost.”

“Yes, but there are no gaps, dude,” Mike said then cleared his throat. “I mean dude, sir. Sir. Just sir.”

“Move it along, Mr. DiCenzo,” Bloom said with a good amount of irritation.

“If the transponders stopped working, there should be a sign,” Mike said. “We should see intermittent signals, not a complete stop.”

“It’s like they were turned off,” Ivy said.

“Exactly,” Mike agreed. “It’s like they were turned off.”

“But that’s not your theory, is it, Mike?” Tressa asked.

“No, it’s not,” Mike said.

“What is your theory, Mr. DiCenzo?” Bloom snapped.

“I don’t think they were turned off and I don’t think the comms stopped working, either,” Mike continued. “We tested those relays over and over and at the very least, we should be in communication with Raff’s team. Lewis’ team was testing the drones, so malfunctions were expected. But the relays? No way. At least, not yet. Eventually. But for now? Not even with all the interference we’re getting from this place. The relays are working.”

“I still haven’t heard a theory,” Bloom growled.

“They turned,” Mike stated. “The transponders are gone, not off. I don’t think either team is in our time anymore. I think they are in a different time and don’t know it yet.”

Bloom took a deep breath then looked at Ivy.

“That changes things,” Bloom said.

“Sir, I still think we—” Ivy began.

Bloom held up a hand. “I’m sending you out there, Operator Ellison. Not because I want you to find Lewis and her team, although, of course, I want that, but because we need to confirm Mr. DiCenzo’s theory.” He pointed at the holo grid. “We have a start time for the Turn. I need an end time. I need to know when the bubble turns back to our present time.”

“Sir, that could be weeks or months or…” Ivy nodded. “We’ll gear up appropriately.”

“Good,” Bloom said. “We only have so much ammunition to spare, so take only what you absolutely need. Load up on water mostly; you can forage for food in the field. At the least, you’ll have plenty of dino steaks to eat considering the herds we’ve seen out there.”

“Yes, sir,” Ivy said and nodded to her team. “You heard the commander. Let’s load up and get out there.”

Ivy and her operators left the command hut quickly, leaving Tressa and Bloom with Mike. Mike shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“I could be wrong,” Mike said.

“Oh?” Bloom replied. “Should I call Operator Ellison back?”

Mike shook his head.

“Because you don’t think you are wrong, do you, Mr. DiCenzo?” Bloom continued.

“No, Commander, I don’t. I’ve had a lot of time to go over the data and my theory is the only one that makes sense.”

“Speaking of having a lot of time,” Tressa said. “When was the last time you slept, Mike?”

“Oh, I slept last night,” Mike said then cocked his head. “Or was it the night before…? Doesn’t matter. I’m good to go.”

“Mr. DiCenzo? Go get some sleep,” Bloom ordered.

“Mike, do as he says,” Tressa added before Mike could argue.

“Okay, sure, I will,” Mike said and turned back to the console. “Just a few more minutes as I try to dial in the exact coordinates of the last—”

“Now,” Bloom said in a tone that could not be argued with.

Mike jumped in his seat then nodded and stood. He would have fallen flat on his face if Tressa hadn’t caught him by the arm.

“Uh… My legs are asleep,” Mike said to Tressa. “A little help to my cot?”

“Gladly,” Tressa said.

Five

“Uh, is it me or is the sky turning violet as the sun rises?” Raff asked as he drove the speed roller across the landscape. A landscape that was still made up of a vast savannah of long grass and the occasional hill, but with a sky above that was a much different color than they were used to. “Would you call that violet?”

“It’s not blue, that’s for sure,” Barbara said as she tilted her camera up to capture the sky outside the speed roller’s windshield.

“Why is the sky violet will now be the go-to question those kids ask Liv in her classes,” Raff said. He grinned and nodded, but the grin slipped away fast. “Try the comms again. Let’s see if the signal is any closer.”

Barbara switched the comms back on and the Russian voice was much stronger. While still filled with static, the signal was no longer fading in and out as it had been before. Raff reached back and pounded on the hatch. A second later, the hatch slid open and Cash’s face appeared.

“Ask Dr. Xipan if this guy is saying the same thing,” Raff said.

Dr. Xipan’s face replaced Cash’s and she listened intently.

“It is slightly different, but the same call for help,” Dr. Xipan said then she narrowed her eyes. “And that is a different person.”

“Is it?” Raff asked.

Barbara leaned closer to the speaker and nodded. “Yeah, it is. He sounds older.”

“Good,” Raff said. “Not the older part. I don’t give a shit about that. But a different person’s voice means this isn’t a recording being looped. Makes me feel better about us not driving into a trap.”

“Or the looped recording includes multiple voices,” Dr. Xipan said and withdrew from the hatch.

Cash reappeared. “The sky looks funny.”

“Right?” Raff said.

“And still no birds,” Barbara said.

“Or wingers,” Cash added. “All that open sky and nothing up there.”

Raff slammed on the brakes and held the wheel tight in his hands. “But we got those. Doc!”

Dr. Xipan’s head pushed up next to Cash’s in the hatch.

“What?” she asked then saw what they were all watching. “Oh…”

About thirty meters ahead, the grass was undulating as something very large slithered past. Every few seconds, the sight of dark green and beige scales could be seen. It took a full five minutes for the prehistoric snake to clear the path.

“Doc?” Raff asked.

“I am neither a paleontologist nor a zoologist,” Dr. Xipan said. “As I have told you many times. I do not know what type of snake that is.”

“Yeah, but does it look out of place?” Raff asked. “Should a snake like that even be here?”

“No,” Cash responded before Dr. Xipan could snap at Raff. “It shouldn’t and neither should that snake from last night. Snakes that size were found in South America, not up here.”

“You an expert all of a sudden?” Raff asked.

“Just been wracking my brain for answers,” Cash said.

“And?” Barbara asked.

“And Haskins told me,” Cash said. “About the last snake. The guy knows his snakes, I guess.”

There was a thumping from above then some shuffling and Haskins appeared in the hatch as Dr. Xipan withdrew once again.

“You guys see that?” Haskins asked.

“Yes, Haskins, we saw it,” Raff said, holding his hands out, palms up. “That’s why we stopped.”

“Titanoboa,” Haskins said. “They’re aquatic. Thing shouldn’t be out on the plains like this. It should be by a river.”

“There are no rivers anywhere near here,” Raff said.

“You don’t know that!” Dr. Xipan shouted from the hold.

“She’s right,” Barbara said. “We don’t know that. We don’t know shit about any of this. Nothing is making sense.”

“Shush,” Cash said.

“Excuse me?” Barbara snapped.

“No, the comms, listen,” Cash said and reached past her to turn up the volume.

The call had shifted from one of distress to one of pure panic and terror. Then gunfire began.

“Son of a bitch,” Cash said and disappeared back into the hold. There was thumping from above then he returned after a few seconds. “I can hear it from here! On our eight!”

Raff hesitated then put the speed roller in gear, cranked the wheel, and turned in the direction Cash had indicated.

They drove for a couple of clicks then Raff once again brought the speed roller to a halt. Outside the windshield, they could see a roller that looked a lot like theirs, but with enough differences to distinguish it as not from Flipside BOP. Surrounding the speed roller were several very large, very irritated dinosaurs. Irritated because anytime they got closer than five meters, the man standing in the roof hatch of the speed roller would fire off rounds into their thick hide.

“You ever see teeth like that?” Raff asked.

“No,” Cash replied. “What are they?”

“Do not ask me!” Dr. Xipan shouted from the hold.

“They look like a T-rex on steroids,” Raff said.

“Allosaurus,” Barbara said.

“What?” Raff asked.

“The head and shoulders are more like an Allosaurus than a T-rex,” Barbara said. “I think they’re… Giganotosaurus? Is that a dino?”

“It is,” Dr. Xipan shouted.

“Thanks, Doc,” Cash said over his shoulder.

“Okay, so we have a name for the teeth,” Raff said. “Now what? There are like ten of the bastards surrounding that roller. Do we have enough ammo to—?”

Three successive shots echoed from the top of the speed roller and everyone winced. Then they glanced upward as three more shots were heard. All eyes went from looking up to looking back out the windshield. Six of the ten dinos were down, with four obviously very dead by the holes in their skulls, and two wounded, but mortally by the way they flopped on the ground in agony, yet didn’t get back up.

That left four of the gigantic teeth.

All four swung their heads around and stared at the speed roller. Then they charged.

“What’s he waiting for?” Barbara gasped.

“Fresh mag,” Cash said just as the gunfire from above started up again.

Four shots fired, two teeth down. Two more shots fired and one more dino fell.

That left a single enraged monster to charge the speed roller.

“Haskins!” Raff yelled as the dino grew closer and closer.

“Frag out!” Haskins yelled from above.

The dino was right on them, its mouth wide open, roaring with obvious rage. Then a black dot hit the thing’s tongue and the dino instinctively closed its mouth and swallowed. Its chest exploded, coating the entire front of the speed roller in dino guts and blood.

“Got some on me!” Haskins yelled from up top. “I’m really hungry! We should make steaks!”

“Jesus Christ,” Cash said and disappeared back into the hold as Raff grabbed his rifle, opened his door, and hopped out.

Barbara was right behind him, careful to step around the piles and chunks of exploded dino as she walked to the front of the vehicle, her camera recording everything. She joined Raff as Cash, Haskins, then Dr. Xipan caught up.

Standing in the Russian roller’s top hatch was a gaunt man, maybe in his mid-twenties, but it was hard to tell due to his obvious malnourishment. The man stared wide-eyed at the Flipside team. Then he raised his arms in the air and cheered. The cheer was quickly followed by massive sobs that shook the man’s entire body.

“I think he’s happy to see us,” Raff said. “Keep tight and stay alert. On me.”

Raff hefted his rifle and started walking toward the roller with the crying Russian on top. Cash and Haskins fell in step next to Barbara with Dr. Xipan right behind.

***

Nochez struggled, but finally managed to get a large hole dug and the corpses tossed down into it. She was exhausted and collapsed at the edge of the hole, her hand never more than an inch or two from her rifle or her shovel, either of which she was ready to use if she needed to defend herself.

Except that need had appeared to pass. For the moment.

Just after Wellstone had died, the weird dinos decided to give up their siege and took off in a hurry to the west, their bellies full of Carter and Transk. The sudden departure had alarmed Nochez, but after waiting a good hour for the appearance of some new threat, Nochez finally decided it was time to take care of her teammates properly. She got Wellstone and Lewis in then cleaned up what was left of Transk and Carter and added them to the grave.

The sun was at midday, Nochez assumed, as she glanced up into the brilliantly blue sky. It was the bluest sky she’d ever seen in her life. Made even more brilliant by the constant glow of lava and fire from the close-by time bubble.

Except, as Nochez turned her head to gaze in that direction, she couldn’t make out the ever-present shimmer the time bubbles made when viewed from the outside. In fact, no matter which direction she turned, she couldn’t see a shimmer. It was as if the bubble was gone.

Nochez shoved that horrifying thought from her mind and got to her feet. If the bubble was gone, then she was either safely still Flipside or had somehow gone for an unwanted, and undetected, ride on a Turn. The fact there was still all that lava a couple clicks off made it hard to keep the thought out of her mind. If she was safely Topside, then how had the lava flow followed her? And how could it still be flowing?

A cry from above got Nochez’s mind right. She lifted her rifle and spun in a slow, tight circle, her eye to her scope as she scanned the sky.

There. About half a click and coming fast was a winger. One of the huge ones that had gotten Carter. Nochez watched the readings in her scope, adjusted her aim, and squeezed the trigger. Barely a second after the trigger pull, the winger shuddered, screeched, then spiraled down to the earth.

Nochez’s belly growled, but she didn’t risk going after the fresh meat. She had rations in the speed roller. The hunk of metal that was now only shelter and no longer a vehicle.

But first, she needed to finish burying her friends.

Nochez slung her rifle across her back, bent, groaned, picked up her shovel, and started in on the pile of dirt next to the impromptu gravesite. Her eyes constantly moving from her work to the sky and back, it took Nochez several minutes before she had the dirt in the hole and covering the corpses. She gave the mound a pat with the flat of the shovel then collapsed the tool in half and hung it from her belt as she unslung her rifle and walked the couple meters back to the speed roller, ready to collapse herself.

Nochez’s instincts told her to hit the ground fast. The cry from behind her, and the shadow above, told her not to ignore instincts.

Nochez hit the ground, rolled over, took aim, and fired as a massive winger tried to swoop down and grab her up in its huge claws. Her shot punched a hole in the dino’s right wing, sending it spinning sideways. The winger’s head collided with the side of the speed roller and there was a loud, sickening crunch.

The winger collapsed onto the ground, still, its chest not moving at all. Nochez pushed up onto her knees then screamed as talons pierced her left shoulder. She never heard the winger or saw the shadow coming. Nochez was lifted and flung several meters out into the grass, away from the speed roller.

Away from her rifle.

She struggled up onto her feet and grabbed the only weapon she had: the folding shovel she’d just used to bury her teammates. Nochez snapped the shovel open with a flick of her wrist and turned in a tight circle as the winger that had attacked her lifted off and began to circle her from above.

Nochez eyed her rifle, but knew the winger would beat her to it if she tried. She gripped the shovel tight like a baseball bat, the shovel’s blade edge ready to strike if the winger attacked. Blood poured from the wound in her shoulder and she tried not to think about the wooziness she felt. Lightheadedness threatened to overtake her at any moment as hot blood rushed from the wound.

“Not like this,” she whispered. The winger responded with a loud shriek. “Oh, yeah? I don’t die like this! Come on, you bastard! Bring it on!”

Being Brazilian, what she yelled was in Portuguese, but the winger didn’t know those words from English. It did know a challenge when one was shouted up at it, no matter the language. The beast tucked its wings and dove straight for Nochez, claws lowered and extended forward like an osprey ready to snatch a fish from a lake.

Nochez counted off in her head then swung the shovel with all the strength she had left. The winger screeched then slammed into her, knocking her of her feet and sending her tumbling head over heels backward until she hit the front tire of the speed roller.

Stars and lights flashed in her vision and Nochez struggled to get her eyes to focus. She had to get up. She had to get ready for the next attack. If she hesitated for even a fraction of a second, the winger would rip her apart with its massive beak.

But Nochez did hesitate. She had no choice. No matter how hard she tried, her legs wouldn’t obey and hold her weight when she wanted to stand. She was done for. All that was left was to curl up into a ball and wait for the death blow.

The death blow never came.

Nochez blinked over and over and finally focused on the mound of dino flesh that was only a couple meters away. A second mound of dino flesh since the first one was still collapsed next to the speed roller.

She did it. She killed the winger. As her eyes cooperated more, Nochez could see she’d nearly decapitated the winger. Its head was twisted back, the neck and throat wide open and still gushing blood.

“That’s right, fucker,” she said. “I win.”

Then reality hit her and she realized she hadn’t won yet.

With all her strength, Nochez reached above her head and grabbed the door handle to the speed roller. She pulled herself upright, opened the door, and climbed in. It took some doing, but she managed to get all the way inside.

Taking a few seconds to catch her breath, Nochez opened the hatch to the hold and crawled through then hunted for the med kit. She found it and one other item. Nochez opened the kit, grabbed a tube of disinfectant, squirted a good amount into both sides of her shoulder wound, screamed the entire time, fought to stay conscious, then picked up the second item she’d found.

Nochez flicked her thumb and squeezed her finger, sending a short, blue flame shooting out of the nozzle of the small torch. She didn’t dare hesitate or she’d lose her nerve. Nochez shoved the flame right into her shoulder wound in front. She screamed until her vocal cords almost tore out of her throat. But she did not pass out.

The front wound sizzled and smoked. Nochez turned her attention to the wound on the back of her shoulder. No hesitation again.

But that time she did pass out. As soon as she lost consciousness, her finger came off the torch’s trigger and the blue flame flicked off. Nochez didn’t even wake up when the torch rolled up against her cheek and the flaming hot nozzle burned her skin into a white scar.

***

Two speed rollers were issued to Ivy and her team and both were crammed with supplies. Bloom gave strict orders that if he was going to lose more operators from Flipside BOP, then they better make their absence count.

In other words: don’t come back unless you have answers.

“Comms check,” Ivy said from the passenger seat of the lead speed roller.

Operator Cosio, a woman that was known as one of the fiercest hand-to-hand fighters in Flipside BOP, drove the speed roller, her green eyes a stark contrast to her tan skin. The look she gave the landscape ahead was one of intense concentration and great animosity.

“Try not to kill the horizon,” Ivy said to Cosio.

“Hmm? Oh, funny,” Cosio replied and relaxed her grip on the steering wheel by about three percent. “Better?”

“Sure…” Ivy smirked. “Comms check!”

“I hear ya loud and clear, boss,” Operator Morgan replied over the comms. Part of the Canadian outfit, Morgan was driving the follow roller and bringing up the rear.

“Check,” Operator DeLuca replied from her post up top, manning the .50 caliber machine gun on the roof of the lead roller. American like Ivy and Cosio, DeLuca was a slim woman with a dead eye when it came to targeting incoming dinos.

“Check,” Operator Blumhouse responded from the top of the follow roller, his thick British accent present even for the one-word response. Blumhouse was manning the .50 cal on that roller, but facing backward, covering the rollers’ six.

“Mike?” Ivy called. “You catch all of that?”

“Caught it all, dude,” Mike said. “Relays are holding strong. I knew they would.”

“I always believed in you,” Ivy said with a smirk that she shared with Cosio.

“I can hear the smirk, dude,” Mike replied.

“Good ears,” Cosio said.

“Drones tracking us?” Ivy asked.

“I have four shredhawks covering your positions,” Mike responded. “Comms relays on them aren’t as strong as the ground ones you’re dropping. Still some glitches in the tech. But weapons are online and ready to defend you dudes if dino shit hits the Flipside fan.”

“That’s a lot of shit,” Blumhouse said.

“And a very big fan,” DeLuca added.

“Heads up, dudes, but I see a flock of wingers heading your direction,” Mike announced. “You got them or should I send the shredhawks their way?”

“We need to conserve ammo, so feel free to tackle the wingers with the shredhawks,” Ivy said.

“Will do, dude,” Mike said and the comm went quiet.

“That guy really likes his dudes,” Cosio said.

“Mike’s not gay,” Ivy replied.

“No, I mean he likes saying dude all the time,” Cosio said. “I’d think Bloom would have broken him of that habit by now.”

“Dude is how Mike speaks. No one is going to break him of that,” Ivy said and watched out her window as two of the shredhawks broke off and raced through the sky to engage the incoming flock of wingers.

Back before Flipside BOP personnel were trapped in the past, the shredhawks had mainly been used as aerial defense of the Flipside base as well as animal control Topside. If any stray wingers or Flipside birds decided to take a trip outside the time bubble and into the modern world, the shredhawks would either chase them back or take them down using their stun thumpers.

But with the stun thumpers unreliable due to Flipside’s insistence that all tech develop as many glitches as possible, the two shredhawks heading toward the winger flock were equipped with good old heavy-caliber guns, shooting good old heavy-caliber bullets.

“In three, two, one,” Ivy said just before the shredhawks opened fire on the flock.

The majority of wingers broke off and retreated higher into the sky, their course taking them as far and fast from the shredhawks as possible. But four wingers decided they weren’t having any of that and swooped toward the shredhawks, ready to fight for supremacy in the air.

“Mike’s gonna have to work for this one,” Ivy said.

Cosio glanced briefly her way, but returned her eyes forward almost instantly. She took her driving very seriously.

Two wingers dove at one of the shredhawks, ready to rip the flying machine apart with their huge talons. But the armed drone avoided their attack by spinning upward, passing the wingers before they could engage. The dinos shrieked in protest and tried to adjust their course, but they weren’t nearly as maneuverable as the shredhawk.

The other two wingers never got a chance to go after their target. The second shredhawk opened fire and ripped each pterosaur’s belly wide open. Then it rolled to the right and came up sideways, staying true to its name as it shredded the flying dinos’ wings. Both of the beasts plummeted to the ground, dead before they hit the dirt.

With two of the four out of the fight, the second shredhawk joined the first and the two machines made short work of the remaining two wingers. The pterosaurs were dispatched quickly in a hail of bullets and they joined their flockmates on the ground, nothing but piles of blood and bones with destroyed leathery wings spread out like death shrouds.

“How’s that?” Mike asked over the comms.

“That’s perfect,” Ivy said. “Nice shooting.”

“I can only take credit for half that work,” Mike said. “Brain programmed the shredhawks to be efficient killers since we couldn’t risk any winged visitors getting loose Topside.”

Brain.

Ivy hadn’t thought about the artificial intelligence program that had been the heart of Topside Industries dominance of Flipside for a long while. Brain had been instrumental, along with Dr. Lakshmi Lawrence, Raff’s wife, in stopping the chaotic Turns of the time bubbles that had threatened to destroy Topside and Flipside. Lakshmi and Brain had orchestrated a shorting out of the Wyoming Bubble, which resulted in all of the time bubbles shorting out and disappearing.

That meant everyone in the past was stuck in the past until Lakshmi, in the future, figured out how to get the bubbles working again without risk of destroying the planet in either timeline.

Which made studying the new time bubbles even more crucial. There was a chance they were showing up because of Lakshmi’s doing and if that was the case, then there might be clues as to how everyone Flipside could get back home to their proper time.

For Ivy, though, it was the rescuing of Lewis and her team that was her first priority. Yes, she felt a deep responsibility to confirm whether or not the new time bubble actually existed, and if it did, whether or not it was going to be a good thing or bad thing for everyone Flipside. But, more than that, Ivy was Head of Security and despite Lewis’s dual role as one of the lead techs and Bloom’s second-in-command with the Australians, Lewis and her team were operators and Ivy was duty and honor bound to make sure they made it back to base safe and alive.

Ivy didn’t hear the buzz of the shredhawks returning to formation over the speed rollers, but she caught the movement of the drones out of the corner of her eye and returned all of her attention to what was outside the speed roller’s windshield.

Grasslands. The never-ending rolling grasslands that their part of the continent held for kilometer after kilometer after kilometer.

For many of the international operators, their environments had been tropical, with towering palms and ferns everywhere. Jungle vines choked the landscape and flowers of questionable intent bloomed throughout. Waterfalls, hot springs, grand cliffs overlooking seas filled with creatures more massive than anything the land could hold. From Australia to China to even the European bubbles, the flora had been incredibly diverse.

Not in the Wyoming Bubble.

Grasslands. Vast savannas that stretched from horizon to horizon, broken up only by the beginnings of what would become the Rocky Mountains. Even the geologists and paleontologists that first visited Flipside had been surprised. Yes, there were pockets of prehistoric forests here and there, and even a couple waterfalls and spring-fed lagoons, but those were rare and abandoned as viable locations for where Flipside FOB could be built. Tyrel Thompson wanted the base in the middle of the grasslands so nothing could sneak up on his crowning achievement. He wanted three hundred and sixty-degree visibility.

The man didn’t have his company spend billions of dollars to dominate the past only to have his creation destroyed by a sneak attack from out of the foliage. Not to mention the rate that the vines grew. They were like kudzu on meth. Even a summer in Atlanta paled in comparison to how fast the vines grew and strangled anything they could get ahold of in Flipside.

So…grasslands.

“Should be a small lake up over the other side of that hill there,” Cosio said, nodding to their one o’clock. “Might make a good spot to set up camp for the night.”

“We still have six hours of daylight,” Ivy said. “We push on and sleep in the rollers.”

“Lakes bring herbivores,” Cosio pressed. “Herds of herbivores. And herds of herbivores keep packs of teeth at bay. The predators wait and pick off the weak ones once the herds move on back out into the plains. They stay away from the lakes while the herbivores have the numbers.”

“And the herbivores are getting used to our presence,” Ivy said. “Which makes them just as dangerous. These rollers have armor that keep teeth and wingers out, but a few collisions from a pissed-off Triceratops mama thinking she needs to defend her babies can destroy an axle in seconds.”

“Copy that,” Cosio said. “Pushing on, it is.”

They drove and drove until the sun began to set before them. Cosio dimmed the glass in the windshield and the horizon turned into a palette of warm watercolors.

“The place may want to kill us all, but it sure is beautiful while it does,” Cosio said, the first words any of them had spoken in a long while.

“No shit,” Ivy said, appreciating the beauty of the view. She activated comms. “As soon as the sun is down, we pull over and get some sleep. Blumhouse has first watch, followed by Morgan, Cosio, DeLuca then me. Understood?”

Everyone replied they understood and Ivy went back to appreciating the glowing horizon.

Six

Corporal Pytor Kasinov was twenty-six years old, but he felt decades older as he sat with his back to the Russian speed roller, his eyes watching the flames of the campfire flicker and reach up into the night’s sky. His belly was heavy, but so was his heart.

To the expectant faces, he told his story.

If the Flipside operators had reached them only a couple days earlier, the love of his life may have survived. Instead, Corporal Oleg Lebedev had succumbed to dehydration brought on by a severe bought of dysentery. His grave was two clicks back. Pytor had dragged the body that far himself to keep scavengers from getting close to their roller, which was all they had between them and the savagery of Flipside.

Savagery of Flipside.

In Russian, the name they had for the past was not Flipside, but translated to Savageside. They were a people that knew extreme danger and hardship when they saw it, especially within the bubble that had appeared inside their borders. No grassland prairies broken up by small, rolling hills. The Russian bubble had contained geologic upheaval and plenty of monstrous nightmares filled with teeth.

Despite the immense dangers, that geologic upheaval was also a plus for the Russians. Veins of precious metals and valuable ore weren’t kilometers below the surface of the earth, but sitting right there, only a few meters worth of digging away. Despite the international accord that forbid the exploitation of the past’s natural resources, Russia had immediately gone to work on mining everything they possibly could from their time bubble.

And when those resources were close to depleted, they set their sights on other time bubbles. For the Russians, the past was like the New World, ripe for the taking even though other countries had laid claim. The continents of Topside didn’t exist in the Russian Savageside, so why would international borders count? Who could say where a border truly began and ended when the land was not even remotely the same in both times?

An easy justification for the Russians to make in order to carry out the attacks on other Flipside bases. And being a true Russian patriot, Pytor had believed those justifications with all his heart. Even after the bubbles collapsed and the Russian forces were stranded Savageside. Even after the combots never returned from their attack on Flipside FOB and the Americans’ hold on the past. Even after tech began to malfunction at an alarming rate.

Pytor was a true patriot to his core.

Then the sickness came.

In the beginning, it was only a cough here and there. Some sniffly noses and a few low-grade fevers. Nothing unusual for Savageside. Everyone caught a little bug now and again despite the constant rounds of inoculations they were given. Whether in 2046 or over a hundred million years in the past, allergies could not be stopped. Flowers bloomed, pollen floated, people coughed and sneezed.

But the coughing and sneezing changed as the Russians crossed the vast and deadly ocean to get to the West Coast of what would one day be North America. The shipbuilders had figured out how to shield the ship’s engines from not only the destructive nature of Savageside, but also from the detection of the monsters of the deep that were easily two to three times the size of the Russian ships. While the international coalition that was fleeing the Russian attacks had to rely on steam power and sails to move their ships across the water, the Russians had corrected the issue of the frequencies modern engines put out, frequencies that attracted the monsters of the deep.

Yet, technological innovation aside, the Russians were doomed before they hit the shore. Whatever virus had managed to infect a few of the crew had treated the confined spaces of the ships as incubators to mutate and become something far more dangerous and deadly than any of the hundred-ton beasts that lurked in the waters below the ships.

Over sixty percent of the Russian personnel were dead by the time the ships made it to the west coast and docked at the port the international coalition had abandoned for the safety of the interior and Flipside BOP.

Sixty percent.

The Russians departed the ships and sent them floating back out to sea, all set aflame in hopes that whatever pestilence was still aboard would die by fire. Those were silly hopes made by desperate men and women that already saw their fates.

Another ten percent were dead by week’s end. Ten percent more by month’s end.

The Russian personnel left set off from the port and headed east, leaving burning mounds of dead behind them.

“Excuse me,” Dr. Xipan interrupted. “I apologize, but whose idea was it to burn the infected bodies?”

Pytor, his mind lost in the past horrors, had to blink a few times at the woman before he realized she was speaking to him and expected an answer.

“Oh, I do not know,” Pytor said in English. “There were so many that digging graves was too time-consuming. Those of us spared by the plague were ready to leave and seek help. Leaving the bodies to rot felt…wrong.”

“Where were the doctors?” Dr. Xipan asked. “Were there no medical professionals there to warn of the dangers of turning infected bodies to ash and that ash becoming airborne? Many viruses cannot be killed by fire and instead end up infecting others when the ash is breathed in.”

Pytor blinked in the firelight, his eyes brimming with tears.

“Back off, Doc,” Raff said. “This guy didn’t make any of that shit happen. He’s a fucking corporal and had zero say.”

“That is true,” Pytor responded, his gaze shifting to the sleeping form of the wounded Lieutenant Yvgeny Poylatova. “Even the lieutenant could not have stopped the burning. Not with Colonel Petrov in charge.”

“Petrov?” Barbara asked. “Colonel Igor Petrov?”

“Yes, that is him,” Pytor said and nodded. “You have heard of him?”

“Oh, I’ve heard of him,” Barbara replied. She gave the others a worried look. “Comes from a long line of oligarchs. Ruthless reputation. Rumor has it he had his own uncle killed because of debts the man was incurring using Petrov’s reputation and connections.”

“He left the man naked and alone a hundred kilometers from any city or village,” Pytor said, nodding in agreement with Barbara. “Colonel Petrov would say that nature killed his uncle. He smiled when he said that. It was a favorite story of his to tell.”

“Christ,” Cash responded. “And he’s the guy leading the Russians to attack Flipside BOP?”

“Yes,” Pytor said. “But it will not be a military attack.”

“Uh, what other attack is there?” Raff asked.

“Biological,” Dr. Xipan said. “With the Russians comes sickness. And sickness spreads.”

All eyes fell on Pytor then the sleeping Yvgeny.

The group was deadly quiet until Haskins said, “With the Russians come sickness. Great…”

“No, no, we are not infected!” Pytor exclaimed as he lurched up onto his feet, his hands out, pleading for mercy. “We are immune! All those left are immune! The virus cannot live in us! Please!”

“Calm down, Pytor,” Barbara said. She gave Cash a hard look and he nodded. “No one here is going to hurt you.”

“They could be carriers,” Dr. Xipan said.

“We are not!” insisted Pytor. “Both Yvgeny and I were tested. Same with the rest of our comrades. Clean. We are clean.”

“Then why leave?” Cash asked, his hand close to his rifle, his eyes burrowing holes in Pytor. “What are you doing here? You said Petrov was coming from the west. You’re coming from the southeast.”

“I… I do not know how we got here,” Pytor said. “We were scouts. Out a day ahead of everyone else. We encountered…trouble. All sense of direction was lost and we found ourselves impossibly off course.”

“What kind of trouble?” Raff asked.

“A different landscape,” Pytor answered. “Upheaval that we had not seen before. The ground would split open and boiling geysers would erupt without warning. Animals and beasts we did not know. Dangerous beasts. Swamps. Jungles. So much that should not have been where we were. We tried to backtrack, but we encountered more and more of the impossible. Then we finally drove out into these grasslands and were so thankful. That was when our vehicle broke down.”

“Tell us about it,” Raff said. “Flipside ain’t no friend of modern tech.”

“It is not the tech,” Pytor said.

“What?” Raff asked.

“The tech is not the issue. Time is,” Pytor said. He sat down, but was still visibly wary and agitated. “Time does not like technology that does not belong to it. That is why all vehicles and equipment eventually stop working in the Savageside. Even our combots. Time does not want technology to work.”

“That’s an interesting theory,” Dr. Xipan mused.

“A fucking frightening theory,” Haskins muttered.

“What frightens me is these damn new time bubbles,” Raff said. “Ground splitting open? Boiling geysers? Dangerous beasts. Shit, guys, this place sucked before…”

“Hold on,” Cash said. “You said you were scouting ahead of the others, right?”

“Yes,” Pytor replied.

“You were coming from the west?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“But you ran into trouble and ended up coming from the southeast,” Cash said.

“They drove into a time bubble, Tre,” Raff said. “Cut the guy some slack, will ya?”

“What? No, I’m not getting on him,” Cash said. “What I can’t wrap my head around is how they moved. For as long as the bubbles have been around, west is west and east is east. You head west in one time and you’ll be heading west in the other time. They moved, Raff.”

Everyone stiffened as realization hit them.

“The new bubbles aren’t just transporting through time, but through space,” Dr. Xipan said, verbalizing what everyone was thinking. “This is not good.”

“Come on,” Haskins said. “Like being stuck here wasn’t bad enough. Like losing my arm wasn’t bad enough. Like the idea there’s some super virus wiping people out wasn’t bad enough. Like tech crashing all the time wasn’t—”

“We get it, Haskins,” Cash snapped. “This is bad.”

“Do you think the bubbles are moving from location to location?” Barbara asked. “Or can you enter one bubble and come out the side of another bubble across the globe?”

“I think that’s now what we’re here to find out,” Cash said. “Pytor? How far back was the edge of the bubble you came out of?”

“Came out of?” Pytor asked, confused.

“Yes,” Cash pressed. “The one you escaped with all the geysers and dangerous beasts. A few kilometers? A dozen or more?”

“I do not understand,” Pytor said.

“Is something getting lost in the translation here?” Cash asked Dr. Xipan. “Can you translate for me?”

“Translation is not the problem,” Pytor said. “Your understanding of where you are is the problem. Operator Cash, is it?”

“Yeah,” Cash replied.

“We did not exit a bubble,” Pytor continued. “We entered one. We are inside a bubble right now. As are you. Outside the perimeter is a wild world made of nightmares.”

“Outside the bubble we’re in…” Cash echoed. “Well…fuck.”

“Exactly!” Haskins said and threw his one hand up in the air. “I fucking hate this place!”

***

The night landscape was nothing but pure blackness that stretched in every direction. Ivy stared into that blackness, her mind wandering as she failed at sleep in the speed roller’s cab. Cosio was up top, her turn for watch, and Ivy knew she should have been asleep so she could be more alert for her turn at watch. But the wandering mind would not rest so she sat upright, her back against the driver’s side door, and studied the nothing that went on and on forever.

Then confusion crept into that wandering mind.

Ivy sat up straighter then leaned forward. The speed roller’s nose was pointing west, which meant the passenger window, which Ivy was staring out of, should have been pointing north. Except that Ivy could swear she saw the sun rising.

“Cosio?” Ivy called over the comms. “What time is sunrise?”

“Still got a couple hours, boss,” Cosio replied immediately. “I’m taking it you’re seeing that glow to the north.”

“You see it too?”

“I see it. It appeared about fifteen minutes ago. Been watching it through my scope.”

“What do you see?”

“Jack shit. Too far away for any details. I’d guess it’s a grass fire. Certainly ain’t the sun coming up.”

“Want to go take a look?” Ivy asked, shifting from the driver’s seat to the passenger’s seat. “How about you hop down and we go for a drive.”

“Over a grass fire?”

“Might be more than a grass fire. I want to know for sure.”

“Lewis’ team is west, boss. That glow is north.”

“I understand that, Cosio. Still want to check it out.”

“Okay,” Cosio replied. “Let me stow the .50 cal and wake the others.”

“I’ll wake the others, you just get your ass back in the driver’s seat,” Ivy said.

“Copy that.”

“Wake up, people!” Ivy shouted into the comms. “Time to move!”

There were startled, yet controlled, responses from the other operators and in seconds Cosio and Morgan were in their drivers’ seats, the speed rollers turned and moving toward the glow.

“Mike? You awake?” Ivy called.

There was a hiss of static as Ivy pushed the comms signal long range. The shredhawks were up in the darkness somewhere and the comms relays were set back along their path. Comms should work.

“Mike?” Ivy called again.

A snort and a growl. “Huzz…? Whaz it?”

“Wake up,” Ivy said. “I need you to send a couple of the shredhawks ahead of us to check something out. Is their vid transmitting?”

“Vid? Transmitting?” Mike asked, his voice groggy. “Transmitting what?”

“Wake up!” Ivy yelled.

“Christ, dude!” Mike yelled back. “Break my eardrum, why don’t you…”

“Shredhawks. I need two to go north of our position,” Ivy said slowly. “Can you make that happen or not?”

“Give me a second, dude…” Mike yawned. “Shredhawks… Go north… Your position…”

“You’re not falling back asleep, are you?” Ivy asked.

“Huh? No. Just getting my brain active,” Mike replied. “I was having the weirdest dream.”

“Mike…”

“Right, dude. Sorry. Shredhawks.”

A beep on the dashboard got Ivy’s attention. She glanced away from the glow and studied the vid that appeared on a screen set into the dashboard.

“Is that the best resolution?” Ivy asked.

“Shit, Ivy, you’re lucky to have that,” Mike said. “I’m pushing systems as it is to send a signal simultaneously to you and back here.”

“Who’d you wake up?” Ivy asked.

“No one. Why, should I?” Mike responded. “I don’t have a reason to wake them up.”

“Yet.”

“Yeah, yet,” Mike agreed. “Let me see if I can dial in…the signal… Well, huh…”

“That looks like flowing lava,” Ivy said.

Cosio glanced at the image. “We would have driven right past it in the morning. Good thing you can’t sleep for shit, boss.”

“Good thing,” Ivy said. “Mike? Is that a shimmer too?”

“Could be,” Mike replied. “I can’t tell for sure. You’ll know when you get closer.”

The image shifted to show the POV of the second shredhawk. That one was closer in and up higher. A shimmer was just barely visible.

“Bubble,” Mike said. “For sure a bubble.”

“This must be where Lewis’ team disappeared,” Ivy said. “Mike? Circle the bubble and shoot me dimensions. I don’t want us driving inside the damn thing. We could end up anywhere if that thing Turns with us in it.”

“Already on it, dude,” Mike said. “I have the shredhawks splitting the circumference. They’ll meet in the middle and give me numbers soon.”

Ivy waited silently, but far from patiently. Her fingers tapped the butt of her rifle.

The speed rollers grew closer and closer to the glow, but Mike hadn’t responded with dimensions of the bubble yet.

“Stop,” Ivy said after a few more seconds. “Right here. Stop.”

“You see something?” Cosio asked.

“No,” Ivy said. “That’s the problem.”

Ivy opened her door and got out, her rifle at the ready.

“Mike?” Ivy called. No response. “Mike? You there?”

Still no response.

Ivy walked away from the speed roller, her eyes studying the ground and the much closer glow.

“I got ya covered,” DeLuca called from up top the speed roller.

“Thanks,” Ivy said.

She kept walking, getting a few meters away from the speed rollers before making a chopping motion in the air above her head.

“Cut the headlights,” she ordered.

Both rollers’ lights went out.

Instead of facing the glow, which from the smell was certainly lava like the shredhawks showed, Ivy turned and walked back the way they came. She grew frustrated with each step, but then saw what she’d feared. Ivy turned and sprinted back to the speed roller.

“Go! Back! Back! We’re inside the bubble!” Ivy yelled as she slammed the door closed and strapped in.

Cosio didn’t argue or ask a single question. She whipped the wheel to the left and gunned the motor, sending the vehicle into a tight spin. The follow roller was right on their tail the entire way.

“Are you sure?” Cosio exclaimed as the speed roller bounced up and down. Cosio was pushing the vehicle to its limits. “I didn’t see us go through a shimmer.”

“I think these bubbles are different,” Ivy said. “They aren’t like the ones we’re used to.”

“No shit,” Cosio said.

“Mike! Do you read me?” Ivy shouted into the comms. Something flashed above the speed roller then slammed into the windshield. “Fuck!”

“That’s a shredhawk!” Cosio shouted. “What the fuck?”

“The tech is glitching,” Ivy said. “It doesn’t matter what Mike does, inside these new bubbles, tech goes wrong fast.”

The speed rollers raced across the landscape, hell-bent to get back outside the bubble before it turned. Ivy gripped the dashboard with both hands and leaned forward, peering into the darkness for some sign of the bubble’s shimmer. Or better yet, a sign they’d returned to their side of the bubble.

Neither of those signs came.

“This isn’t right,” Cosio said after another twenty minutes of driving. “We should be out by now, but look at that grass? It’s the wrong kind.”

“I know,” Ivy said. “Stop the roller.”

Cosio slowed the vehicle then came to a stop.

Ivy got out once more and put her rifle to her shoulder. She looked through the scope and turned in a slow circle. Zero sign of a shimmer. Zero sign of anything familiar. Zero sign of the Flipside she was used to. This was a new Flipside.

“What’s the call, boss?” Cosio shouted from the roller’s cab.

“Turn ‘em off,” Ivy ordered. “Let’s not tax the motors until we have a better handle on our situation.”

“You mean in case they short out and we end up stranded here like Lewis and her team,” Cosio said.

Cosio shut off the motor. The roller behind them did as well.

In a minute, all operators were crouching in a circle, a halogen lamp illuminating the patch of dirt Ivy was drawing in.

“We came from here,” she said and drew a short line. “We drove this far according to the odometer.” Another line. “Stopped here.” Third line. “Turned and came back to here.”

A fourth line. One that stretched well past the first line.

“How?” DeLuca asked. “I didn’t feel a Turn. You feel Turns.”

“I’ll bet Mike saw a seismic spike right before he lost contact with us and the shredhawks,” Ivy said.

To emphasize the point, a second shredhawk tumbled from the sky, leaving two still above, circling the speed rollers as programmed. Ivy sighed.

“We should call them in,” she said.

“On it,” Blumhouse replied and hurried to one of the speed rollers. He leaned inside and tapped at a screen. In seconds, the two remaining shredhawks had landed next to the lead roller. “Where you want ‘em, boss?”

“Put them in the follow roller’s hold,” Ivy said. “We’ll probably need them at some point.”

“If they stay working,” Morgan said.

“Same with the speed rollers,” DeLuca said.

“Right now, the motors are inert components without currents to fry,” Cosio said. “We keep the motors off and they should hold.”

“That’s exactly what we do,” Ivy said. “We only fire them up when we know we can get out of here.”

“What now, boss?” Blumhouse asked as he returned to the group.

“We set up camp,” Ivy said. “This is now our FOB. We have enough supplies to last for weeks. Two stay here at all times while three are on recon.”

“We’re gonna hoof it? Out there?” Morgan asked, pointing at the lava glow.

“Yes,” Ivy said. “It’s a boots-on-the-ground mission now. Simple grid search starting once the sun is up. We log everything and keep moving until we find Lewis and her team.”

“What if they aren’t in this bubble?” DeLuca asked. “What if we’re in a different bubble?”

“We’ll find out eventually,” Ivy said. “I’m setting two goals: find Lewis’ team and getting our asses out of here and back to Flipside. If the latter happens first, then we ditch the former and go. Bloom didn’t want to send good operators after bad. Let’s not make him right on this, people.”

“We’d never hear the end of it,” Cosio said with a laugh.

“No, we wouldn’t,” Ivy agreed and stood up. “You know how to set a camp. Get to it, people.”

Seven

“He won’t leave,” Tressa said, nodding at the door to the command hut. “He’s going to go crazy if he doesn’t get some sleep.”

“I can have him forcibly removed,” Bloom said as he stood facing Tressa, Olivia, and Dr. Raskov.

“How will that look to the civilians?” Olivia asked. “You send operators in there to drag Mike out and you’ll sew distrust across this base. I’m a civilian, and if I saw that first thing in the morning, I’d be rethinking my place on base.”

“Suggestions?” Bloom asked.

“Dr. Raskov adds sedative to this mug of mud,” Tressa said. “Liv goes in and talks with him. Liv gives Mike the mud and talks until Mike falls asleep. Then Liv and I carry him to his cot.”

“Still not going to look good,” Bloom said and nodded. “But you know Mr. DiCenzo better than I do. Doctor? Do you have a sedative that will work?”

“I do, but the dosage is going to be a guess,” Dr. Raskov said. He faced Olivia. “As soon as he’s out, you come get me. I want to make sure we haven’t accidentally put him into a coma.”

“Yes, let us avoid that,” Bloom said sternly. “As much as Mr. DiCenzo needs his sleep, we need Mr. DiCenzo at his workstation. He cannot be there if he is in a coma.”

“He can, but he’d be useless,” Olivia said then grimaced at the look Bloom gave her. “Sorry.”

“Ready?” Tressa asked, handing Olivia the mug of mud.

“Ready,” Olivia replied as soon as Dr. Raskov sprinkled a powder into the beverage and gave it a stir with his finger.

“He won’t notice,” Dr. Raskov said. “My finger might improve the taste.”

“Nothing is that powerful,” Bloom said. “Not even a healer’s touch.”

“Then he certainly won’t notice the sedative,” Dr. Raskov responded.

“Here goes nothing,” Olivia said and walked into the command hut.

Mike was dead asleep, drool pooling under his cheek and dripping off the edge of the console where his head rested.

“He fell asleep like five seconds ago,” a tech at a different console said. “Started snoring immediately.”

“Five seconds ago?” Olivia asked, staring at the pool of drool. “Damn.”

She ducked her head out the door.

“He’s already out,” she said.

“Then let’s get him to his cot,” Tressa said.

“You are co-head of this base, Ms. Thompson,” Bloom said. “There are other people that can do the carrying for you.”

“Those other people didn’t spend months trapped in this place with Mike,” Tressa said. “We did. We got this, Commander Bloom.”

Bloom set his jaw then nodded, turned, and walked away.

“Find me when he’s awake and coherent,” he called over his shoulder. “I am sure he has plenty to tell us.”

Tressa stepped into the command hut and helped Olivia get Mike up out of his chair and outside. Some of the personnel passing by gave them strange looks, but most averted their eyes, unsure of what they were watching. Both Olivia and Tressa nodded to those that made eye contact and ignored the rest.

It took some doing, since Mike was dead weight on legs, but they managed to get him to his cot in a hut he shared with a couple other techs. Mike had insisted he be housed in the main barracks because he didn’t want to look like an elitist bastard, but after only a few nights, everyone in the barracks voted for him to leave due to the strange hours he kept. They were sick of him waking everyone up at four-thirty in the morning after he finally left the command hut.

“There we go,” Olivia said as she and Tressa eased Mike on top of his cot. “Get his shoes, will ya?”

Tressa took his shoes off then wished she hadn’t.

“Christ. When was the last time he changed his socks?” Tressa asked.

“Or took a shower,” Olivia added. “He’s worse than when we were on our own and living down in the ground.”

“Turned…” Mike muttered in his sleep. “Moved…”

“What’d he say?” Tressa asked, tossing his shoes as far away from her as possible.

“Turned and moved,” Olivia replied. “What does he mean by moved?”

“You don’t think he’s referring to the new bubbles, do you?” Tressa asked.

“Since I know nothing about these new bubbles, no,” Olivia said. “But if you want to fill me in, then maybe I can give you an informed answer.”

“Maybe I should show you,” Tressa said after a moment’s thought. “Bloom won’t like it, but Bloom can deal.”

“If it’s going to strain your relationship with Bloom, then don’t worry about it.”

“Flipside strains every relationship.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Come on. We’ll go back to the command hut and I’ll show what is going on.”

They left Mike’s hut and walked back to the command hut. Tressa was surprised to see a couple of the techs standing over a third tech that was collapsed on the floor.

“What happened?” Tressa asked, rushing to the unconscious woman.

“We don’t know,” a tech said. “She was talking about wingers then her words started slurring and she fell out of her chair.”

“I have an idea,” Olivia said, standing by Mike’s console. She held a mug up then turned it over and only a drop of mud fell out. “She drank this.”

“Shit,” Tressa muttered then looked to the techs. “Get her to her cot. She’s going to be asleep for a while.”

“Did you… Did you drug her?” a tech asked, staring at Olivia.

“Not on purpose,” Olivia protested. “It was for Mike.”

Everyone nodded knowingly then picked up the sleeping tech and carried her out of the hut.

“People are gonna wonder what the hell is going on in here,” Tressa said.

She moved to Mike’s console and sat down. A holo came up and Tressa talked Olivia through everything that had been going on. When Tressa was done, Olivia’s face was pale. She found a chair and sat down heavily.

“That’s all we know?” Olivia asked.

“We’re hoping Raff’s team and Ivy’s team will bring back more information,” Tressa said. “We’re also hoping they just make it back.”

“Mike said turned and moved,” Olivia said. “Can you bring up the holo of the seismic activity?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tressa said with a smile and swiped at the image until the grid with the seismic readings rotated above Mike’s console. “That’s all the data.”

Olivia stood up and leaned in close. She spun the holo every which way then nodded.

“He’s right,” Olivia said. “They’re moving.”

Tressa looked from the holo, to Olivia, then back to the holo.

“How can you tell?” Tressa asked.

“See these readings here?” Olivia said. “And these here? Same exact readings, but in different places and different times. And these here with these here? Same readings, different places and times. What are the odds you have two sets of readings that match exactly in force, but the only difference is where they came from and what time they occurred?”

“Son of a bitch,” Tressa muttered then glanced at the door to the hut. “And not one of those techs picked up on it.”

“They’re busy with other jobs, Tressa,” Olivia said. “Speaking of which, I need to go open the school. Even in Flipside, parents get bitchy if their morning routine is altered in any way, shape, or form.”

“Good luck,” Tressa said, her eyes locked onto the data, seeing it all in a new light.

“You going to let Bloom know?” Olivia asked.

“Yes.”

“You think he’ll send more operators out?”

“I have no idea what he’ll do.”

“Then good luck to you too.”

“Thanks, Liv.”

***

The sun wasn’t right. The sky wasn’t right. Even the clouds were all wrong as they drifted over the two rollers (one functional, one not), tendrils of condensed moisture reaching out in strings in a way Cash had never seen clouds behave before.

“We got wingers,” Haskins called from his perch on top of the Flipside speed roller. “Three o’clock. I count five and they aren’t small.”

Cash turned and faced the direction Haskins was pointing. He shielded his eyes from the morning sun and squinted into the sky. The man wasn’t kidding, they were big wingers.

“You got them covered?” Cash asked.

“I got them covered,” Haskins said as he steadied his rifle and took aim. He squeezed off two shots, but only one winger fell. The other three broke off and rose high into the air, but kept coming in the direction of the small camp. “Maybe.”

“I’ll get my rifle,” Cash said. “Three wingers are easy enough to pick off.”

“I don’t know, man,” Haskins said, eye to scope. “These guys look like trouble.”

“What the hell does that even mean?” Cash asked.

Cash walked around to the rear of the Flipside speed roller and opened the back hatch. Raff was asleep on one bench while Dr. Xipan was asleep on the other. Cash smacked Raff’s boot.

“Get up. Wingers,” Cash said and grabbed his rifle from a rack on the wall. He ejected the magazine, checked it was full, then snagged a spare before smacking Raff’s boot again. “Wingers.”

“So? Shoot them if they get curious,” Raff mumbled.

“Please keep it down,” Dr. Xipan grumbled. “I prefer to sleep in peace.”

“No more sleeping,” Cash said and banged the butt of his rifle against the side of the rear hatch. “We have three incoming wingers. Large wingers. Larger than anything I’ve seen before.”

“That so?” Raff asked as he sat up and stretched. He fumbled about and found his rifle then stood and jumped out of the speed roller. He stretched some more then kept walking. “Let’s have a look at these larger than anything Trevon Cash as ever seen wingers.”

“Doc? You can go up top with Haskins if you want a peek,” Cash said.

“I am fine here,” Dr. Xipan said.

Cash reached in and slapped her ankle.

“It’s time to get up no matter what,” Cash said. “We take care of these wingers then break camp and start back toward Flipside BOP.”

Dr. Xipan reluctantly sat up, rubbing her eyes. She blinked at Cash and frowned. “If we can find our way back. Have you forgotten the campfire story we were told last night?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten,” Cash said.

“Then what is the point of breaking camp and leaving if we not only do not know which direction to go in, but we do not know where we are?” Dr. Xipan asked. “I would suggest we survey the area first using this location as our anchor point. Once we have established a sense of place, then we can work on a sense of direction.”

“She’s right,” Barbara called from the cab, her voice coming from the open hatch between the hold and the cab. “You’re rushing things, Tre.”

“He’s not rushing shit,” Raff said, appearing back by Cash’s side. “Because he’s not in charge. Dr. Xipan? I like your thinking. We explore today then we leave tomorrow.”

“That is not enough time,” Dr. Xipan said.

“Damn, lady, we’re in a time bubble according to Pytor,” Raff said. “Pretty sure we have all the time we need.”

Then he was gone again and shouting up at Haskins who shouted back. The two men laughed.

“We’re going to take care of these wingers,” Cash said. “You figure out a plan to grid as much of this area as we can in a day.”

Cash left before Dr. Xipan could respond. He joined Raff who was leaning a shoulder against the side of the Russian speed roller which was parked at a ninety-degree angle to the Flipside speed roller, the vehicles’ front bumpers touching at the corners.

“Yep. Those are big,” Raff said, pointing his chin at the three wingers that were flying in circles half a click off. “I thought they were headed this way? Looks to me like they’re waiting for air traffic control to give them the go-ahead to land.”

“They’re giving us the stink eye,” Haskins said from his post. “Bastards are watching us.”

“From there? Good eyesight,” Raff said.

“Dr. Xipan is right,” Cash said. “We should grid this area then move on and grid another area until we’re out of this bubble.”

“Works for me,” Raff said. Then he pushed off from the speed roller and stood at attention. “Now, that is interesting.”

Cash followed his line of sight and saw a dust cloud forming on the horizon.

“Herd?” Cash asked.

He put his rifle to his shoulder and checked the scope, but all he saw was a closer image of a dust cloud forming on the horizon. No details to speak of.

“Want to go check it out?” Cash asked.

“Yes, Tre, we should go check out the dust cloud that is probably being made by a pack of teeth,” Raff said.

“I heard sarcasm, but I also heard a yes,” Cash said.

“I do love shooting teeth,” Raff said.

The rear hatch of the Russian speed roller opened and Pytor stepped out, yawning. He glanced at Cash and Raff and nodded. Then he cocked his head and turned in the direction they were staring.

“Oh. You should anchor your roller,” Pytor said.

Cash and Raff exchanged glances.

“Because…?” Raff asked.

“Never had a pack of teeth knock over a roller yet,” Cash said.

“Teeth?” Pytor asked.

“Predators. Like T-rex. Lots of teeth so we call them teeth,” Cash said.

“Oh. I see,” Pytor said, sounding like he did not see. He pointed at the dust cloud. “That is not teeth. That is a storm.”

“A storm? A dust storm?” Raff asked. “Been through a few of those. The rollers will be fine as long as we seal everything up.”

“No, you do not understand,” Pytor said. “That is not a dust storm like you are used to. It is much worse.”

“Been through bad storms before too,” Raff said. “I was once in the middle of a hurricane in the Caribbean on a ship that was no more than—”

Raff was interrupted by a far-off sound like gunfire followed by a low rumbling.

“Huh,” Raff said. “That’s new.”

Cash squatted and placed a hand to the ground.

“I can feel a tremor,” Cash said.

Raff joined him. “Shit. Earthquakes and a dust storm?”

“We should anchor your roller,” Pytor said. “This is a bad one.”

“You’ve been through this shit before?” Raff asked.

Pytor pointed at his roller. The side was scored by all kinds of damage. Pytor’s finger indicated where some of the armored panels were buckled at their base.

“That is with the roller anchored,” Pytor said. “The anchors broke off during the storm. We left them behind and have luckily not encountered a new storm since. Until now.”

“I have a plan ready when you are willing to listen,” Dr. Xipan said from the rear of the speed roller.

“Yeah, not now, Doc,” Raff said and pointed. “Looks like our grid mission is on hold.”

Dr. Xipan joined Cash and Raff. She shielded her eyes and squinted at the horizon.

“Is that electrical discharge?” she asked.

“Kind of a personal question, don’t you think?” Raff replied and laughed. He was the only one that laughed. “Wrong time?”

“Wrong time,” Cash said. He turned and looked up. “Haskins!”

“Yeah?” Haskins asked as he peered over the edge of the speed roller.

“You watch that storm and keep us posted as we secure the roller,” Cash said. “See if you can clock the speed of its approach.”

“No problem,” Haskins said then glanced at the sky. “And the wingers?”

“If they make a move, then shoot them out of the sky,” Cash replied. “Otherwise, they are not a priority.”

“Clock the storm, shoot the wingers if needed,” Haskins said. “Roger that.”

Haskins’ face disappeared and Cash returned to staring at the far-off storm. And the flashes within the storm that he now recognized as lightning strikes.

“What do you think that will do to the systems?” Cash asked.

“By anchoring the roller, you will also, how do you say? Ground it?” Pytor responded. “Is the interior of your roller shielded to electricity like our rollers?”

“Yeah,” Raff said. “Layer of rubber behind and beneath the armor plating.”

He rubbed his face over and over then turned and nodded.

“Never had to anchor a roller before,” he said to Cash.

“I have,” Cash said. “I’ll get on it.”

‘Thanks, pal,” Raff said.

“What do you plan on doing?” Cash asked.

“Help Pytor move his wounded buddy into the hold of our roller,” Raff said and looked at Pytor. “You don’t mind sheltering with us if the storm hits, do you?”

“I would prefer it, thank you,” Pytor said. “Like I said, we had to leave our anchors behind.”

Cash had started walking to the Flipside roller to begin the process of extending and securing the anchors that were folded up into each corner of the vehicle, as well as on each side. He paused, turned back, and studied the Russian roller.

“Dr. Xipan?” Cash asked.

“Yes, Operator Cash?” Dr. Xipan replied.

“You’re a geologist, but you know a few things about physics, right?” Cash asked.

“A few things, yes,” Dr. Xipan said.

“Would it be better if we moved the rollers side by side? Or should we move our roller as far away from the Russian roller as possible since it can’t be anchored?”

Dr. Xipan though for a minute and Cash let her.

“Can the anchors be removed from the Flipside roller and attached to the Russian roller?” Dr. Xipan asked.

“Yes,” Cash said. “And that’s what we’ll do. Barb!”

“What?” Barbara asked, peeking her head out of the cab.

“I need you to move the roller and put it side by side with the Russian roller. And I mean side by side. I want the armor rubbing against armor,” Cash said.

Barb frowned and stared at the Russian roller then nodded. “You’re gonna want to move.” Then she looked up. “Haskins! Hold tight!”

“Sure, tell the one-armed guy to hold tight,” Haskins called down.

“Lucas…”

“Holding tight! Jeez…”

Everyone got out of the way as Barbara started up the roller then moved it into place with Cash’s direction. It took a lot of maneuvering, with a good deal of cursing and shouting from both Barbara and Cash, but she managed to get the two rollers side by side with less than a millimeter of space between their side fenders.

“Raff, you see if you can bolt the rollers to each other while I remove the anchors from these corners and put them on the Russian roller,” Cash said.

“Aren’t I in charge?” Raff replied then smiled. “Kidding. On it.” Then he paused and pointed at Cash. “But, just so we’re clear, I am in charge.”

“Of course,” Cash said.

“That didn’t sound sincere.”

“It was the sincerest.”

“Hmmm…”

Barbara hopped out of the Flipside speed roller and began helping Cash remove the anchors as Dr. Xipan and Pytor carefully got Yvgeny from the hold of the Russian roller and transferred him to the hold of the Flipside roller. Raff did a lot of cursing while he figured out how to bolt the two rollers together.

An hour later and all tasks were complete. The group sat in the grass and faced the incoming storm, which had moved considerably closer in only sixty minutes. Raff handed out rations and everyone ate while they watched the storm swirl. Lightning illuminated the clouds again and again, highlighting just how large the storm was.

“More wingers,” Haskins called around a mouthful of food. He was still on top of the Flipside roller, but was busy eating as much as he could as fast as he could. He swallowed hard and nodded in the direction of a flock off to the east of the storm. “Bunch of them.”

“They’re trying to get ahead of the storm,” Pytor said. “There will probably be herds coming soon too.”

“You bet there will be,” Raff said and took a drink of water. “Because weird bubble storms aren’t enough.”

The three original wingers had been circling and circling the entire time that the group had worked to secure the rollers. Suddenly, they stopped circling and sped toward the camp.

“Shit!” Haskins called. “Incoming!”

Haskins fired and missed. But that didn’t seem to matter. The wingers paid the group no mind and flew by without even glancing down at the rollers and operators.

“Huh,” Raff said. “Anyone else’s butthole pucker a little?”

“They’ve had plenty of time to fly off, why now?” Cash asked.

“The storm is gone,” Dr. Xipan said.

Everyone had been watching the wingers fly off. Now they turned back to the storm and the doctor was right, it was gone. Some dust hung in the air on the horizon, but the massive storm was nowhere to be seen.

“We must get inside now!” Pytor shouted. “Hurry!”

“What? Why?” Raff asked. “The storm died, pal.”

“No, it did not!” Pytor shouted and rushed to the rear hatch of the Flipside speed roller. “It has moved!”

Before Raff could respond with a sarcastic comment, the air exploded around them and the ground shook violently.

“Fuck!” Cash yelled and grabbed Barbara and Dr. Xipan by the arms, yanking them to the rear of the roller.

He shoved the two women up into the hold ahead of himself where Pytor was already waiting, checking Yvgeny. Cash jumped in behind them then turned and helped Raff up inside. The hatch above opened and Haskins scrambled down into the hold. Wind, dust, hail, and rain fell from above and Cash pushed Haskins out of the way to get the hatch closed and secured.

The roller shook and shuddered while everyone took seats.

“We should strap in,” Pytor suggested.

No one argued. They strapped themselves into the harnesses secured to the walls as the storm raged around them.

“The storm transported,” Cash said. “How in the hell did it do that?”

***

The inside of the roller was stifling. It was like a sauna that smelled of sweat, sickness, death, and burned flesh.

Nochez’s eyes fluttered open and she tried to take a deep breath, but the air tasted awful and she ended up turning her head and retching instead. A string of saliva mixed with bile clung to her lip. Nochez wiped it away and sat up.

Her shoulder screamed at her and her vision swam. It took Nochez several breaths, all shallow breaths since breathing deeply pulled at the cauterized wounds in the front and back of her shoulder, before her head was right and she felt she could stand.

But, feeling like she could stand and actually standing were two different things. Nochez struggled to stay on her feet, her head back to swirling as she stood hunched in the heat of the hold.

“Fuck it,” she croaked and stumbled to the rear hatch.

It hurt like hell, but Nochez managed to grab a rifle and steady the butt against her hip as she shoved the hatch open. Bright sunlight pierced her eyes and she squinted in pain. Once her vision adjusted, Nochez carefully climbed out of the speed roller and took a look around.

Dead wingers and a grave. That was what she saw. And far off, the ever-present lava flow that luckily was not headed for her and the roller.

Certain she was not in any immediate danger, Nochez set the rifle against the roller then undid her belt and dropped her pants so she could squat and relieve herself. It was the greatest pee she’d ever taken.

Feeling a lot better with an empty bladder, Nochez went back to the hold and rummaged for food. She found a pack of something that claimed to be chicken, but knew “chicken-like” was more accurate. With a hard smack and a roll of the packet, the food heated itself up and was steaming hot when Nochez tore the top off. She let it cool for a minute then upended the packet and poured the chunks of chicken-like substance directly into her mouth, barely pausing to chew before swallowing.

Belly filled, but not full, Nochez disposed of the packet and picked her rifle back up. She moved out away from the roller and scoped the area. The winger corpses were already starting to stink, so Nochez’s visual search was specifically for the threat of incoming scavengers. There was a chance the smell from the lava would mask the smell of rotting flesh, but Nochez wasn’t going to bet her life on that.

Nothing to the west or to the east. She moved farther away from the roller and scoped north then pivoted one hundred and eighty degrees and scoped south. She froze in place then shook off the shock and moved her head away from the scope.

Nochez squinted into the shimmering heat of the southern horizon then put her eye back to the scope and confirmed what she’d originally seen.

People.

Several thoughts ran through her mind simultaneously, nearly making her dizzy. She took more shallow breaths to center herself then studied the people through her scope once more. They were too far away for identification, so she had no idea if she was looking at friend or foe. Her heart wanted it to be Flipside personnel, but her head cautioned her against that type of optimism.

The Russians were out there somewhere and wouldn’t it be her luck if they found her in the state she was? Nochez doubted that she could keep her rifle steady enough to hit the broadside of a crawler, let alone hit a target as small as a far-off human being.

Still, she made the effort to climb up onto the top of the roller. After a few minutes’ rest from the climb, Nochez put eye to scope once more and stayed that way for close to an hour before a grin spread across her face.

Flipside. The people walking toward her were Flipside!

“Hey!” Nochez shouted as she waved her good arm over her head. “Hey! Over here!”

She scoped again and the people, three of them, had paused and were busy scoping her. Then one of them lowered their rifle and waved back.

“Thank God,” Nochez said with a long sigh. “Oh, thank God.”

It was forty minutes before the three operators arrived.

Nochez had climbed down and rushed straight at them. Ivy was in the lead and Nochez basically fell against her, wrapping her good arm around Ivy’s back and hugging fiercely.

“I thought I was gonna die out here,” Nochez said.

Ivy gently pushed Nochez back and looked her up and down.

“Morgan. Blumhouse. Set a perimeter while I talk with Nochez,” Ivy ordered.

“Copy that, boss,” Blumhouse said.

“You look like you need to have a seat,” Ivy said to Nochez.

Nochez nodded and sat down right there on the ground. Ivy squatted in front of her.

“Talk,” Ivy said.

Nochez talked. She explained everything, from the speed roller and all tech breaking down to the rest of the team becoming sick and dying one by one. She explained how she cauterized her shoulder wound then passed out.

“Sick?” Ivy said, fear in her eyes. “But you’re fine?”

“Yes,” Nochez said and nodded. “Maybe I am immune? I must be immune. I was with them in the hold. All of them before they passed. I should have gotten sick too.”

Ivy nodded then stood and studied the area. Nochez stayed seated and watched her.

“The grave is over there,” Nochez said and pointed at the mound. “I buried them in case of scavengers. But that does not matter any longer. The winger corpses will bring them eventually.”

“Maybe,” Ivy said. “These new dinos? The ones that surrounded the roller? Have they come back at all?”

“Maybe when I was passed out,” Nochez replied. “I don’t know.”

“Understood,” Ivy said. She continued to study the area then shook her head and looked down at Nochez. “Let’s get you back to camp. It’s a long hike. You up for it?”

“No, but I don’t have a choice,” Nochez said.

“Exactly,” Ivy said and whistled. “We’re heading back, guys.”

Morgan and Blumhouse rejoined them.

“See anything?” Ivy asked.

“Movement to the west, but it’s nothing big,” Morgan said. “Other than that, nada.”

“Alright,” Ivy said. “We hike back and get Nochez settled then I want to come back here.”

“It’ll be almost dark before we get back,” Blumhouse said.

“You and Morgan can stay at camp with Nochez and I’ll bring Cosio and DeLuca since they’ll have fresh legs,” Ivy replied.

“Your legs won’t be fresh, boss,” Blumhouse said.

“The downside of being in charge,” Ivy replied. “We’ll bust our asses to get here and inside the roller before it’s fully dark. Then we’ll keep checking the area. I want a closer look at that lava flow.”

“Copy that,” Morgan said and helped hook Nochez’s good arm over his shoulders. “Easy does it.”

Nochez’s eyes brimmed with tears. The hike was going to be hell, but so worth it.

Eight

Tyrel Thompson was lazily feeding Elvis food from his hand. Despite the occasional nip from Elvis’s huge beak, Tyrel was barely paying attention. His mind was elsewhere. Specifically on the news his daughter had reluctantly told him earlier.

The time bubbles may be moving around.

And they don’t know if the bubbles Turn to Topside or where.

Or when.

Elvis grunted and took a few steps back, his tail smacking against the side of his open enclosure. The dino had a three-sided hut he could escape to if he wanted out of the sun or rain, but Elvis rarely used it. He preferred to be in the open space and watch the hustle and bustle of daily life in Flipside BOP.

But at that moment, Elvis was watching Thompson closely. The dino shook his head back and forth, snorting frothy snot from his rear-facing nostrils, creating a spray that lifted into the air and misted Thompson as a slight breeze blew it over the man.

Thompson barely budged.

“Don’t do that, boy,” Thompson said. “It’s rude.”

He absentmindedly wiped at his face. Elvis let out an inpatient warble, turned quickly, nearly taking Thompson out at the knees with his spiked tail, then walked to the opposite side of the enclosure to watch some workers patch the roof of a hut a few meters away.

Thompson, realizing he was not really present for his daily visit with Elvis, walked up to the dino’s right haunch and gave him a pat.

“I’ll come back later, boy,” Thompson said.

He went to the gate and opened it then stepped through and latched it behind him. Not that the gate would stop Elvis. The dino could break free of his enclosure anytime he wanted. He just never seemed to want to.

Thompson figured Tressa had given him only the highlights of what Mike had mumbled to her and Olivia. He wanted the full story and there was one person that could give it to him. Thompson headed across the base in the direction of the living quarters for command personnel.

In a few short minutes, after diplomatically avoiding getting roped into any extraneous conversations with folks that insisted on greeting and speaking to him, which he always found tedious, Thompson arrived at the door of Mike’s hut.

Normally, he would barge in without knocking since technically he had paid for every scrap of material the base was made out of. But Thompson wanted to start the meeting off on a positive note, so he stood on the bottom step and knocked loudly. There was no response. Thompson knocked a second time, waited, then a third time, before he heard movement inside the hut.

“Go away,” Mike mumbled as he shoved the door open. “This dude needs more sleep.”

“Michael,” Thompson said. “A word, if you do not mind.”

“Mr. Thompson…uh,” Mike stood there, his unfinished thought hanging between them.

“May I come in?” Thompson asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Mike said and moved out of the way so Thompson could climb the last two steps and enter the hut.

Mike glanced around outside, but no one was looking in their direction, so he shrugged and shut the door.

Thompson surveyed the hut with a careful eye.

“You, Michael, are a slob,” Thompson announced.

“I have hut mates.”

“That is no excuse.”

“You could have told me I was a slob in the mess over dinner, sir,” Mike replied. Then he looked down and realized he was only in a T-shirt and boxers. “Sorry.”

He grabbed a pair of pants and slipped them on then cleared a pile of junk from a chair and nodded to it.

“Uh, have a seat?” Mike said.

“Is that a question or an offer?” Thompson replied.

“Yes?”

Thompson smiled and took the offered seat on an empty cot. Before Mike could sit down on his cot, Thompson demanded, “Tell me everything about your moving bubble theory.”

Mike stared for a second, glanced around the hut, then stared back at Thompson. “Uh, how’d you know about that?” He scratched his scalp. “I, uh, haven’t told anyone about that.” He leaned forward. “Dude, did you bug my hut?”

“Your hut is not bugged, Michael,” Thompson said. “At least not by me.”

Thompson crossed his legs and folded his hands in his lap. He waited.

“Moving bubbles… Moving bubbles,” Mike mumbled. “Right. Moving bubbles. I told Tressa…and Liv? Was she there?”

“She was there with my daughter,” Thompson said. “And my daughter relayed the information to me. I would like to hear it from you and I would prefer that you do not leave any of your musings out. Do not forget, Michael, that I built a tech empire from the ground up. I am not an imbecile and I am not afraid of getting technical when needed.”

“No, of course, I know that,” Mike said. “You helped build Brain. I mean, Tressa finished him and all, but you started the—”

Thompson held up a hand. “Let’s not get into who invented Brain. My daughter and I do not discuss that as it is a sore subject. If I won’t discuss it with her, then I certainly will not be discussing it with you. I want to hear about the moving bubbles, Michael. Talk.”

“Okay. Sure,” Mike said. “The time bubbles are moving. I have clocked, I think, five different seismic signatures. If each signature corresponds to a specific time bubble then that means we have five time bubbles out there in Flipside, bouncing from one location to another. And that’s just the ones I can track that are close by. There could be dozens more, maybe hundreds or thousands, outside our scannable region.”

“Maybe hundreds or thousands outside our scannable region,” Thompson echoed. “Do you truly believe that, Michael?”

“At this point, Mr. Thompson, I have no idea what to believe,” Mike admitted. “Nothing here makes sense anymore. The tech barely works. We can keep the machinery working here at Flipside BOP, but that is only because we can get to it before it breaks down. When operators are out in the field, even my shielding is only temporary. That only used to happen whenever anyone would go outside the bubble while Flipside.”

“But there is no longer a bubble, Michael,” Thompson said. “Not the one we are used to, anyway.”

“I know, but still…” Mike rubbed his sleepy face. “There’s a piece of all this that I am missing, Mr. Thompson, and it is about to drive me crazy.”

“Perhaps I can help,” Thompson said.

“How so?”

“By explaining to you what piece is missing.”

Mike sat up straight and the look of hope on his face almost made Thompson laugh. But he didn’t want to embarrass Mike, so he kept his amusement hidden.

“Brain,” Thompson said. “You are missing Brain.”

“Yes, I know,” Mike said. “He’s Topside with Lakshmi. Hopefully working hard to figure out how to get us all back home.”

“No, you are not understanding me,” Thompson said. “The reason the tech is breaking down so quickly is because you are missing Brain. The AI was designed to make constant and continual adjustments to every single system on Flipside BOP. Or FOB, as it was known then. That included making remote adjustments to all tech out in the field. That AI could get ahead of a malfunction before anyone knew a malfunction was about to happen.”

“Yes, sir, I understand that,” Mike said. “I used to work closely with Brain. But there is no way he was able to handle that many complex and minute functions all at once while still monitoring the bubble and the Turn.”

“And while monitoring all the bubbles across the globe as well as those Turns,” Thompson said.

“Say what?” Mike exclaimed. “Mr. Thompson, are you saying Brain was connected internationally?”

“I am. And, Michael, that is not information I want spread around. Especially not to Commander Bloom.”

“Sir, come on, that’s a little hard to believe. I know my clearance with Topside Industries was not as high as yours or Tressa’s, but I had access to company data that was pretty close to that level. I would have seen some indication that Brain was working with other countries to help regulate their bases and tech.”

Thompson only smiled.

Mike blanched.

“Shit…” Mike said and fell back on his cot, his eyes staring up at a beam of sunlight on the roof of his hut. “Brain wasn’t coordinating with other countries. They didn’t know, did they?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny anything relating to that subject, Michael,” Thompson said. “Simply because it is irrelevant. What is relevant is the fact that we need to recreate some of Brain’s functions here and now or this entire base will crumble under its own weight. Once we have something close to resembling Brain, then we can truly get to the bottom of what is happening around us.”

“And keep the tech from glitching every five minutes,” Mike said. “That’d be nice.”

“It would, yes,” Thompson agreed.

“But, sir, no offense, I will need more than your assistance to try to recreate Brain,” Mike said.

“You will,” Thompson said. “How many of the techs that work for you can you trust with your life?”

“With my life?”

“That is what I asked.”

“Uh…none, sir. There are only maybe half a dozen people on this planet that I trust with my life.”

“And none of those people work for you?”

“No, sir.”

“Let me guess: Dr. Raskov, Olivia Herndon, Lucas Haskins, Ivy Ellison…” Thompson paused and gave the list some thought. “My daughter. And my son.”

“And Raff,” Mike said. “I trust Raff. So that makes seven.”

“That presents an issue since the only person on that list that can possibly assist you would be my daughter,” Thompson said. He steepled his fingers and placed the tips of his index fingers to his chin as he thought. “And as much as I love Tressa, she and I do not always see eye to eye.”

“That’s an understatement,” Mike said then coughed and cleared his throat. “Uh, no disrespect meant.”

“I know, Michael. You have been around us a lot over the years, so I expect you to have some keen observations and insights into our relationship. Which means, my involvement in this new project will have to be between the two of us. Tressa must not know that I will be assisting you as well.”

“This base isn’t that big, sir. It’ll be hard to keep that from her.”

“Not really. You and I will never work directly together. When you and Tressa are done working, you will leave me detailed notes on your progress, and I will work on the project on my own time without either of you present.”

“We’ll piggyback.”

“I believe you mean leapfrog.”

“Leapfrog? Right. That.”

“Then we are in agreement?”

“Sure.”

“And you have no problem deceiving Tressa?”

“Well…”

“Michael, I need to know now if you can keep my involvement out of your conversations with my daughter.”

“I can try.”

“I need more than try.”

“Sir, if she turns to me, looks me in the eye, and asks me directly if you are working on the project, I’m not going to lie to her.”

Thompson thought for a few minutes. Mike squirmed nervously as he waited.

“That will have to do then,” Thompson said. “Keep the subject of me to a minimum and she should never ask that question. I will do everything I can to cover my tracks. There will be notes left for you after any of my work sessions so you know what I have done. You are welcome to act as if the innovations are your own, but be careful. Tressa may be CEO of Topside Industries, but at her core she is an engineer and programmer and she will figure out the deception if your skills suddenly make a quantum leap.”

“What did you say?” Mike asked, sitting up quickly.

“I said a lot, Michael,” Thompson replied. “Please be specific in your question.”

“Quantum leap. You said quantum leap.”

“I am glad you were listening intently.”

“Jesus, dude, that’s it!” Mike said and jumped to his feet. He raced out of his hut, his feet bare, leaving Thompson gape at his sudden exit.

“Lord, help me survive that man,” Thompson said as she stood up and left the hut.

Mike was racing to the command hut, hopping from foot to foot as he managed to step on everything sharp that could possibly be on the ground and in his path.

Thompson followed, but took his time. He knew there would be a good deal of babbling from Mike before he managed to explain himself. If he was lucky, Thompson would miss all the babbling and arrive at the command hut just as Mike was finally getting to the point.

***

“Quantum leaps!” Mike shouted as he burst into the command hut, startling everyone present except for Bloom, who was busy staring at the holo of the seismic activity with Tressa.

Bloom straightened and turned to face Mike.

“That was an American television show from the 20th century, Mr. DiCenzo,” Bloom said.

“No, not that,” Mike said. “I loved that show, watched every episode on streaming, but not that. What I mean is this!”

Mike pushed Bloom out of the way and sat down at his console. He brought up holo after holo after holo, swiping back and forth until he found what he was looking for. Then he combined them all into one holo, spun the image around, and grinned from ear to ear.

“This!” Mike shouted in triumph.

Everyone stared. No one looked like they understood what in the hell he was talking about.

“This is why he needs his sleep,” Bloom said and sighed. “Mr. DiCenzo, you are exhausted. Your mind has been working too hard for far too long. While you are quite brilliant, you are taxing yourself by trying to figure out everything, for everyone, in every field of science. Please, stick to technology. We need you focusing on—”

“Oh, shut up, Bloom,” Mike snapped. “Look at the fucking holo for a second, will ya, dude?”

Bloom turned to face Tressa. “He should be removed immediately before he says something else that he may regret.”

“Tressa. Trust me,” Mike said then nodded to Bloom. “Sorry about the shut up. But you should take a look at this a little more closely, Commander.”

Bloom paused. Anger and curiosity warred on his face. Finally, he sighed and turned back to the holo. “At least you didn’t call me dude that time…”

The door opened and Thompson walked.

“Father,” Tressa said.

“Daughter,” Thompson replied and joined the others in front of Mike’s holo. “Did I miss the explanation? Michael was very excited about something, but ran off before he could explain.”

“Ran off?” Tressa asked. “What were you talking to him about?”

“This. That,” Thompson replied. “Michael is my employee, after all.”

“Under my command,” Bloom said. “Mr. DiCenzo, please explain yourself.”

“Gladly,” Mike said and pointed at the holo. “We have been thinking in terms of spacial patterning. Chronological patterning. But we’re wrong in thinking that way.”

“I’m not sure I can say I have been thinking that way, but continue,” Bloom said.

“Alright, listen,” Mike said. “We’re used to the bubbles being in a specific area at a specific time. We’re used to the bubbles then taking us to a specific area and a specific time.”

“For thirty years that has been the case,” Thompson said. “So why would we change our thinking now?”

“Well, for starters, dude, this,” Mike said and indicated the holo. “No specific time, no specific place. Chaos. Except…”

Mike pinched in with his fingers then pulled out and expanded the holo. Then he gave the holo a hard smack and it spun like a top.

Revealing a swirling spiral pattern that split off into other swirling spiral patterns.

“Not chaos at all,” Mike said. “Quantum patterning. Not spacial patterning, not chronologic patterning, but quantum patterning. Like a fractal pattern, but less predictable. Yet!” He held up a finger. “One hundred percent predictable now that we know what to look for!”

Bloom opened his mouth, but Tressa cut in before he could speak.

“I see it,” Tressa said, leaning forward. “And Brain would have seen it instantly.”

“Because Brain works within a quantum matrix,” Mike said. “None of this would have been confusing to that AI at all.”

“However, it is confusing to me,” Bloom said. “Why is this happening now? How is this happening?”

“The whys and hows are still murky, but I can explain,” Mike said. “Have you ever seen a crack in a windshield, commander?”

“Ask a moronic question like that again and we’ll be discussing a different crack altogether,” Bloom said.

Mike blinked then looked to Tressa. “Is he talking about my skull?”

“He might be,” Tressa replied.

“Oh.” Mike gulped. “Okay. This is not a great analogy, but it’ll do.”

Mike pointed at the spirals.

“These are the spider web cracks of the original time bubbles,” Mike said. “They probably existed all along, but we could not detect them or they didn’t exist within our reality or—”

“Michael…” Thompson warned.

“Right, dude. Sorry.” Mike took a deep breath. “When Lakshmi and Brain collapsed the main time bubbles, they failed to collapse the spider web cracks that were spreading off from those bubbles. Even with Brain’s quantum matrix, he did not predict that these other bubbles would manifest themselves. Understandable since there is no precedent for any of this.”

Mike grabbed the holo and grinned.

“Watch.”

He spread the holo even wider then typed at his keyboard. The image became massive, filling most of the air in the command hut. All other techs, who had surreptitiously been watching out of the corners of their eyes, stopped working and stared.

“This is the entire globe,” Mike said. “With the main bubbles collapsed everywhere, the cracks have spread exponentially. Then the cracks hit other cracks and created new cracks. New cracks that didn’t originate with a main time bubble. The new cracks have created new cracks and so on and so on.”

Mike turned away from the holo and smiled as if he’d cured cancer. No one smiled back. His shoulders slumped.

“You’re not getting it,” he mumbled. “Shit. Alright. Uh…”

He picked up a mug of congealed mud from his console.

“I wouldn’t drink that,” Tressa warned.

“Not going to, dude,” Mike said. “This mug of mud is a time bubble. The floor is the planet.”

He dropped the mug on the floor and it shattered. He carefully bent over and picked up every shard of the mug until only the mud was left on the floor, spreading in a slow, brown ooze. Mike held the shards of mug in his hand to show everyone.

“This was a time bubble,” he said then tossed the shards into a small trash can to the side of his console. “And we got rid of it.” He pointed down at the mud. “But we can’t get rid of time. We can’t get rid of space.”

“Son of a bitch,” Tressa and Thompson said at the same time.

“Exactly,” Mike said.

“Hold on,” Bloom said and knelt to study the mud. “If this is time and the floor is the planet then…” Bloom asked as he stood and pointed at the spirals of time bubbles in the holo. “Then these are…?”

“Aren’t, you mean,” Tressa said before Mike could answer. “They aren’t bubbles at all, they’re—”

“Windows,” Mike interrupted. “We set the mud free. This planet is now the time bubble and those little bubbles aren’t really bubbles at all. They’re windows out of our bubble and into the infinite times that exist.”

“All we have to do is find the right time in one of these and we can go home,” Tressa said, pointing at the holo.

“I like the sound of that,” Bloom said.

“We all do,” Thompson said. “Except I’ve done some calculations. They’re rough, but if Michael is correct, we are looking at close to a million different…windows. Spread out everywhere, everywhen, appearing and disappearing constantly. With our limited resources, and the lack of reliable technology, even after ten generations of searching, we will not be able to inspect every one of these for our way home. If our little band survives long enough to have ten generations.”

“I do not like the sound of that,” Bloom stated. “Mr. DiCenzo, you came in here excited. Now all I see is disappointment before me.”

“What? No, dude, I’m still excited,” Mike said. “Because Mr. Thompson here already gave me the answer a few minutes ago when we were talking.”

“Michael,” Thompson snarled.

“We create a new Brain,” Mike said. “We should have been working on this from the start, and I blame myself for not thinking of it, but we create a new Brain and let the AI find our way home. It thinks in quantum patterns and mechanics. Something like this is basically a crossword puzzle to an intelligence of that design.”

Tress turned and glared daggers at her father; Thompson stared back with a blank expression. Mike closed his mouth and glanced back and forth between the two.

“Oops,” Mike said. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything about creating a new Brain.”

Tressa raised an eyebrow at that statement.

“And now I’ve made it worse,” Mike said and sat down in his chair, deflated.

“No, Mr. DiCenzo, you have not made it worse,” Bloom said. “You have made our chances much better.” He faced the Thompsons. “Whatever family issue this is, stow it. Shove it deep inside and deal with it after we are back home. For now, you three are working on creating this new Brain. And you are working on nothing else until it is completed.”

Tressa turned her head, but her body remained facing her father.

“Commander, we co-lead this base,” Tressa said. “I have responsibilities that—”

“And who do you trust to handle those responsibilities?” Bloom asked. “Which person on this base can take over civilian administration?”

“Commander, I am going to object to—”

“Which person, Ms. Thompson?” Bloom said. “If you need time to think. then you can take—”

“Liv,” Tressa said.

“The school teacher?” Bloom asked, surprised.

“Her wife, Astrid, can handle the school,” Tressa said. “But other than Mike, I don’t trust anyone else to take over for me.”

“Fine,” Bloom said. “Go speak with her. Make sure she is up to the task then come see me directly after. We’ll bring her up to speed on how you administrate and then she will take over so you can work on this project with Mr. DiCenzo and your father.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Thompson asked.

“No,” Bloom and Tressa said.

“Didn’t think so,” Thompson replied. He grabbed a chair and rolled it next to Mike then sat down. “We’ll get started right away.”

He faced Mike and glared.

“Good,” Bloom said. “I want daily reports and hopefully they will show nothing but progress.”

Bloom nodded and left.

“Better go talk to Olivia,” Thompson said to Tressa.

“Want me to come with?” Mike asked and nodded at the holo. “I can explain—”

“No. I have this, Mike,” Tressa said then pointed a finger at her father. “You and I are going to talk later.”

“I expect we will,” Thompson said.

Tressa walked out of the hut, leaving Thompson and Mike to stare at each other.

“I’m in deep shit, aren’t I?” Mike said.

“The deepest, Michael. The deepest…”

Nine

“Push, goddamnit!” Cash bellowed. “We can do this!”

The speed roller lurched upward, but only shifted half a meter before falling back down into the mud. Cash, Raff, Barbara, and Dr. Xipan leapt out of the way and avoided getting their legs taken off below the knees.

“Dammit, Haskins! Are you even using the winch?” Cash shouted.

He stomped around the toppled speed roller and glared at the one-armed man that was busy glaring at a thick, steel cable that lay impotent on the muddy ground.

“Winch shorted out,” Haskins said, kicking the limp cable. He held up his one hand and showed Cash the shredded glove and bloody gash inside the glove. “But, hey, I thrashed my only hand. Yay…”

“Shit. Sorry,” Cash said. “Get that bandaged up.”

“Thanks, chief,” Haskins said and walked away, muttering curses under his breath.

Cash picked up the cable and followed it hand over hand to where it was connected to the side of the Russian speed roller. That vehicle had remained upright during the storm, unlike the Flipside vehicle. The cable was hooked into the armor and didn’t look like it’d come loose even if another storm hit.

Cash followed the cable back to the portable winch that was normally bolted to the front of the Flipside speed roller, but had been removed and bolted to the side, which was now the top, of the vehicle. Climbing up onto the side (top), Cash crouched over the winch, waving a hand at the wisps of smoke that trailed up into the mid-morning air.

Maybe it was mid-morning. Cash wasn’t sure. They’d been trapped in the speed roller for hours, he knew that. The world went dark, the storm raged, the speed roller shook and shook, the anchors snapped, the roller shook harder, slid sideways for several meters, then fell over into the mud pit that was forming around them. The world remained dark even after the storm had passed. Then light leaked through into the hold and Cash decide it was worth a risk to assess the damage.

He’d jumped into knee-deep mud as soon as he hopped out of the speed roller.

Now, Raff, Barbara, and Dr. Xipan were standing in that knee-high mud, staring up at Cash, having moved back enough to see him and the winch.

“Trash?” Raff asked.

“Trash,” Cash replied. “Not enough leverage in this mud. Burned out the motor trying to fight physics.”

“I explained to you that it wouldn’t work,” Dr. Xipan said and held up her hands as angry glares were thrown her way.

“Yeah, you explained it. Several times,” Raff said. “But explanation isn’t action, lady, and we’re all about action.”

“How’d that action work out for you?” Dr. Xipan asked.

“Better than doing nothing,” Raff snapped.

“Stop,” Barbara said. “Both of you. We had to try, at least. Now we know it won’t work.”

“And we’re down one winch because of it,” Cash said. He turned to face the Russian speed roller. “And their winch is as dead as their motor.”

He froze. A thought. He turned back around. “Raff?”

“Yeah, what?” Raff replied, still glaring at Dr. Xipan who was busy ignoring him.

“The Russian speed roller,” Cash said. “Who designed it?”

“Probably Topside Industries,” Raff said. “They designed everything that works Flipside.”

“Works…” Dr. Xipan snorted.

“Lady, I’ll drown you in this fucking mud if you say one more—” Raff snarled.

“Stop!” Barbara said and punched Raff in the shoulder then punched Dr. Xipan in her shoulder.

“How dare you!” Dr. Xipan yelled. The look on Barbara’s face cut off any other protestations.

“Pytor!” Cash shouted.

The rear hatch of the Russian speed roller opened and Pytor carefully climbed out. He only sunk to mid-calf in the mud.

“Yes?” Pytor asked.

“How’s Yvgeny?” Cash asked.

“He has not awakened. However, his breathing is steady,” Pytor replied. “But that is not why you called me.”

“No, it’s not,” Cash said. “Your roller. It looks like a Topside Industries model, but is it? Did the Russians buy their vehicles from TI or did they copy the design?”

“Oh, that’s a good question,” Raff said.

“I cannot comment on the copying of any design, but I do know that all vehicles and equipment are manufactured in Russia,” Pytor said. “It is a point of pride for our people that we are not reliant on Topside Industries like the rest of the world.”

“They copied the design,” Cash said down to Raff. “Go check.”

“On it,” Raff said and slogged his way around the Flipside roller and over to the Russian roller.

Cash watched the man move past Pytor and climb inside the hold. Pytor gave Cash a curious look, but Cash held up a hand, telling him to hold on. After a few minutes, Raff climbed back out and nodded.

“Same design right down to the bolts,” Raff said. “It may have been made in Russia, but this is a TI vehicle from top to bottom.”

“Good,” Cash said.

“Why is that good?” Pytor asked.

“Because it’s upright,” Cash said. “Which is what we need.”

“But it doesn’t run!” Dr. Xipan yelled up at him. “How can upright help if it doesn’t run?”

“We’re going to make it run,” Cash said. “We’ll take parts from our roller and switch them out for the fried parts in the Russian roller.”

“It’d be safer if we swap motors,” Raff said. “Our motor is shielded. Theirs isn’t. If all we do is switch out parts, then their motor is going to break down again at some point.”

“Yeah, but how are we going to get our motor into their vehicle?” Cash asked. “You have a hoist on ya, Raff?”

“Not on me, but we can figure something out,” Raff said, standing between the two vehicles, turning back and forth as he studied them.

Cash joined Raff. They came to the conclusion at the same time.

“The axles?” Cash asked.

“The axles,” Raff replied. “They’re right there. Don’t need to lift the roller to get to them. It’ll be tricky, but we can get them off and use the axles and wheels to roll our motor over to their roller.”

“Getting it off the ground and inside their roller is the tricky part,” Cash said.

“One step at a time,” Raff said.

“Tre?” Barbara said, standing at the rear of the overturned Flipside roller.

Cash looked at her then saw she was staring out into the landscape. He followed her gaze and growled.

“Sure. Why not?” Cash said. “Haskins!”

“Busy!” Haskins shouted from inside the Flipside roller’s hold.

“We got teeth!” Cash yelled.

“On my way!” Haskins shouted.

He appeared from the sideways hatch after a couple seconds, his hand bandaged and his rifle gripped tight. He winced as he adjusted his grip, but shook his head as Cash raised an eyebrow.

“I can shoot,” Haskins said then looked from his hand with the rifle in it to the top of the Russian roller. “Could use a boost up there, though.”

Cash and Raff helped him up on top of the Russian roller then joined him, each with their rifles to their shoulders and ready.

“Wingers!” Barbara shouted.

“Get inside the roller,” Cash ordered.

“Which one?” Barbara asked.

“Ours,” Cash said. “More weapons in there. Prep the extra rifles and grab up as many magazines as we have that are already loaded.”

“On it,” Barbara said and disappeared inside the roller’s hold.

“Eight teeth,” Raff said. “The big ones. The really, really big ones.”

“I can be of help,” Pytor called up to them.

“Stay inside the roller and watch over your friend,” Cash said. “Is the hatch clear below?”

“Yes,” Pytor said. “There is nothing in the way if you need to climb down inside.”

“Good. Keep it that way,” Cash said.

“They’re fighting each other,” Raff said, his eye to his scope.

Cash frowned. “What?”

“Have a fucking look, buddy,” Raff said.

Cash did look. There were eight huge carnivores moving toward the rollers, but they were a mass of chaos, not a coordinated pack like Cash was used to seeing with tyrannosaurs and the other teeth packs he’d encountered Flipside. These teeth were snapping at each other’s throats and legs and tails. They were spinning about, each looking for an in to kill the others.

They were fighting, not working together.

And the wingers circled above, waiting.

Cash pulled his rifle from his shoulder and patted Haskins on the back. “Looks like they are occupied, but keep an eye on them. If one wins and heads this way, give a shout. We’re going to get to work taking the axles off our roller.”

“Copy that,” Haskins said and settled in to get comfortable, his eye never leaving his scope.

Cash and Raff jumped down and banged on the Russian roller’s rear hatch.

“I did not hear gunfire,” Pytor said when he opened the hatch.

“Teeth are fighting amongst themselves,” Cash said. “Wingers are waiting for corpses to fall so they can snatch up some meat. We have a window to work in. Gonna need your help.”

“I am still quite weak,” Pytor said.

“I know,” Cash said. “I need you to get to your roller’s motor. Start taking it apart, piece by piece.”

“What do you want me to do with the pieces?” Pytor asked.

“Toss ‘em,” Raff said. “We just need the motor compartment empty by the time we’re ready to put our motor in its place.”

“Oh. Yes. I can do that,” Pytor said. “Thank you.”

“Uh…you’re welcome,” Raff said.

He and Cash hurried back to their roller and grabbed tools out of the hold.

“What about the teeth?” Barbara asked, her arms loaded with rifles and hands gripping bags of magazines.

“Oh, sorry,” Cash said, unbolting a tool kit from the side, which was the ceiling, of the roller. “Teeth are fighting teeth. Haskins is keeping an eye on them.”

“And the wingers?” Barbara asked.

“Waiting to eat dead teeth,” Raff said as he took the tool kit from Cash.

“And you decided not to tell me until now because?” Barbara asked.

“Forgot,” Cash said, fetching a second tool kit. “Sorry. Gonna need your help with the axles, though. Cool?”

Barbara almost threw the rifles on the floor (side) of the roller, but paused then carefully set them down as Cash’s eyes widened.

“Sure, Tre,” Barbara said. “I can help with the axles.”

“Great. Thanks,” Cash said sheepishly. “Sorry I forgot to tell you right away.”

“Mmm hmmm,” Barbara said, pushing past him and out of the roller.

“Oh, man, you are in trouble,” Raff said.

“Fuck off, Raff,” Cash said.

“Insult me all you want, buddy,” Raff said with a laugh. “Doesn’t make you in any less trouble.”

***

“We’re in trouble,” Cosio said. She held her left arm out the window and clenched a fist then stopped the roller. The follow roller stopped on a dime behind her. “None of this looks familiar.”

“None of it has looked familiar since we entered the fucking bubble,” Ivy said. “But we have to keep going. Flipside BOP is out there somewhere.”

“It’d be great if comms worked,” Cosio said.

“It’d be great if most of this shit worked,” Ivy said and smacked the dashboard.

Every instrument, except for the basic gauges, was no longer working. Ivy was waiting for the motors to give up the ghost soon. It had been an avalanche of tech malfunctions the past two days since they had returned to their small camp with Nochez.

“Keep driving,” Ivy said.

“Boss, we could be heading in the complete wrong direction,” Cosio said. “We keep driving and we might end up on the West Coast instead of back at Flipside BOP. There are Russians on the West Coast.”

“There could be Russians anywhere,” Ivy said. “Keep driving.”

Cosio fixed her with a harsh gaze then nodded. She twirled her hand in the air and pointed forward then put the speed roller into gear and started off again.

Ivy twisted in her seat and slid open the hatch to the roller’s hold.

“You okay back there?” Ivy asked Nochez who was lying across one of the benches.

“I feel fine, Ivy,” Nochez said. “Just like the last time you asked me.”

“Not feeling sick or anything?” Ivy pressed.

“Are you? I survived when my teammates didn’t,” Nochez said. “I am not worried about me. But I am worried about exposing you.”

“Two days and no symptoms,” Ivy said. “You’re probably right that you aren’t contagious.”

“But I still have to remain back here alone?” Nochez said.

“Yes. Sorry,” Ivy replied. “That way when we do arrive at Flipside BOP, I can tell Bloom you were quarantined and monitored and showed no symptoms.”

“He will still have all of you quarantined,” Nochez said.

“Standard protocol,” Ivy said. “But none of us are showing symptoms, so it should be an easy couple of days to get through.”

“Are we making any progress?” Nochez asked. “Are we getting closer to Flipside BOP?”

Cosio barked an irritated laugh, but didn’t say anything. Ivy ignored her outburst.

“No sign of the base yet, but we’ll find it,” Ivy said.

There was a loud clanging from up top and Ivy turned her attention from the hatch to her side window. She rolled it down and stuck her head out so she could look up. DeLuca was leaning over, pointing backward.

“Storm! Big fucker!” DeLuca said then was gone from Ivy’s sight.

Ivy shifted her focus from up top to back and frowned at the storm that was on their tail. Of course it was…

She pulled her head back inside the cab and faced forward.

“Next sign of anything that even remotely looks like a place to shelter, we stop,” Ivy said.

“You see the same plains I do,” Cosio said.

“Yes, but we’ve passed quite a few rock outcroppings jutting out from some the small hills,” Ivy said. “Almost drove right over one yesterday. Look for one of those we can put our backs against.”

Cosio checked the side mirror, its glass darkened by the storm behind them.

“Might be able to outrun it,” Cosio said.

“Or it might pick up speed and overtake us,” Ivy said. “We look for somewhere to shelter.”

Cosio began to argue, but the side mirror reflected a spasm of electricity from within the storm and she closed her mouth.

“Yeah. Good idea,” she said.

They drove on.

***

“Alright,” Raff said. “Look at us.”

Two axles, with wheels attached, were settled in front of the Flipside speed roller’s sideways motor housing. The motor housing was wide open and Dr. Xipan was halfway inside, being the smallest of them all and able to squeeze in and get to the motor anchor bolts.

“Now what?” Raff asked.

“Platform,” Cash said. “We can use one of the benches from the hold.”

“Then?”

“Straps,” Cash said. “We wrap them around the motor and try to ease it out onto the platform.”

“Great,” Raff said and glanced up at the darkening sky. “Tomorrow.”

“We should keep working,” Cash said.

“Tre, buddy, we’ve been working all day without a break,” Raff said. “I’m hungry, my hands are blistered even with the gloves, and I think Dr. Xipan fell asleep in there.”

“I am not asleep,” Dr. Xipan protested. “But I am hungry.”

“Same here,” Haskins called from his perch.

“We set the platform, but do the straps and the moving in the morning,” Raff said.

“No,” Cash said, but continued before Raff could protest. “We leave the platform. We’ll need the bench for sleeping tonight.”

“Yes,” Raff said. “Less work is my friend.”

Dr. Xipan crawled out of the motor housing. “How are you in charge?”

“Oh, I’m not,” Raff said. “I abdicated to Cash hours ago.”

“Wonderful,” Dr. Xipan said and wiped her brow, smearing grease all across her face.

“You got some… Never mind,” Raff said. “Who wants chicken parm that tastes like beef stroganoff? Raise your hands.”

“Stroganoff?” Pytor asked as he sat on the bumper of the Russian speed roller. “I would love some.”

“It’s not really… Doesn’t matter,” Raff said. “I’ll get the packs.”

“I’ll get a fire going,” Cash said and walked to the driest spot between the two vehicles.

He made it three feet before his left exo-brace sparked then completely seized. Cash had almost forgotten about the exo-braces. They’d been behaving surprisingly well the past couple of days.

“Damnit,” he growled as he grabbed both sides of the exo-brace and tried to make it bend. It refused to budge. “Shit!”

“Here. Let me help,” Pytor said. The man got off the bumper and walked over to Cash, his eyes studying the exo-brace. “Electric servos?”

“Yeah,” Cash said. “We crashed when we came back to Flipside and they’ve been wonky ever since.”

“Wonky?” Pytor asked.

“Glitching. Malfunctioning,” Cash explained.

“Ah. Wonky,” Pytor said and nodded.

He crouched by Cash’s knee then held up a hand. “A screwdriver?”

“Sure,” Cash said and pulled one from his belt. “This work?”

“That will work,” Pytor said and took the screwdriver. “Stand still, please.”

“You’re not going to take it off, are you?” Cash said. “Because I’ll need to sit for that. My knees are basically nonexistent. They’re mush.”

“Why not get replacement knees?” Pytor asked as he took off a metal plate on the side of the exo-brace.

“Allergic,” Cash said. “My body rejects any cybernetic replacements.”

“No, I mean a mechanical replacement,” Pytor said. He made a motion with both hands of something locking together. “Ball and joint.”

“That’s not how knees work,” Cash said. “They are floating joints.”

“Your knees do not work,” Pytor said. “So anything would be better than, what you say? Mush?”

“True,” Cash said. “But my orthopedist said that would mean no running. Which would mean no working. I needed knees that could run so I could work. Exo-braces were the answer.”

“And electronic servos are the problem,” Pytor said as he got back to work and popped out a small box from inside the open plate. “We’ll remedy that shortly.”

“Whoa,” Barbara said. “What’s going on here?”

“Brace shorted out,” Cash said, trying to be patient as Pytor worked on his knee.

Barbara dropped two wooden boxes by Cash. “Raff said you were setting up the campfire. I’ll get two more boxes then do it for you.”

“Thanks,” Cash said. “I appreciate it.”

Cash’s arm whipped out and he grabbed Barbara by the elbow before she could turn around. He pulled her in and kissed her hard.

“Really,” he said. “Thanks. Sorry I haven’t said that more.”

“You, mister, just got points for that,” Barbara said.

She kissed him back then disengaged and walked off, their arms stretching between them until only their fingertips touched and fell away.

“Oh. I did not know you two were together,” Pytor said, opening a second plate on the other side of the exo-brace.

“We are,” Cash said. “And I was neglecting that.”

“She seems understanding,” Pytor said.

“She is,” Cash said. “But everyone has their limits. I already have one ex back at Flipside BOP; I don’t need a second one.”

“There we go,” Pytor said and tossed another small box into the wet dirt. Most of the mud had dried, but the ground was still very wet. “Give it a try.”

Cash bent his knee back and forth and smiled. “It’s tough. Takes some strength, but it moves.”

He took a few steps and grinned.

“And it doesn’t seize and hasn’t collapsed under my weight. Thanks, Pytor.”

“Having you mobile is best for all of us,” Pytor said. “Let’s work on the other knee.”

“Great.”

By the time Pytor was finished, Barbara had a fire going and Raff was handing out steaming pouches of chicken parm that tasted like beef stroganoff.

“This is not stroganoff,” Pytor announced.

“It is if you tilt your head to the left and squint,” Raff said. He took a bite, tilted his head to the left, and squinted. “Mmmm, beefy.”

Then he coughed hard and winced.

“The beef fought back,” Raff said.

The sun set quickly and the group was plunged into darkness except for the small campfire. They ate in silence then Raff picked up the empty pouches, disposed of them in the Flipside roller, and brought back a bottle.

“We deserve this after a hard day’s work,” Raff said, holding up the bottle of beer. “We should each get a couple sips off this.”

“Raff, wait a second,” Barbara said as Raff popped the cork.

Beer geysered out into his face.

“Or I’ll get all of it,” Raff said as he licked his lips then wiped his face off, licking his hand. “Mmm, yeasty.”

“Anything left in there?” Cash asked.

Raff put his eye to the bottle’s opening and frowned.

“Uh…no,” he said. “Sorry about that. You guys can lick me, if you want.”

“My superiors used to talk about the amazing strides the Americans had made Flipside,” Dr. Xipan said. “I can now see those were all lies told only to make us work harder for China.”

“Superiors, man,” Raff said. “Who needs ‘em, right?”

He sat back down and held out the empty bottle.

“You can sniff it,” he said.

“We can all smell it on you from here,” Barbara said. “But thanks.”

“Rock, paper, scissors for first watch?” Haskins asked. “Or I can volunteer for first watch?”

“You’re off rotation,” Cash said. “That way you can get some sleep. Gonna need you on watch all day tomorrow.”

“I like your thinking, Cash,” Haskins said. “Which roller?”

“You can bunk with me and Yvgeny,” Pytor said.

“Perfect,” Haskins said. “Gonna piss then I’m off to bed.”

“Should we take him some food?” Barbara asked.

“Haskins just ate,” Raff said.

“Yvgeny,” Barbara said and slugged him in the arm.

“I will shortly,” Pytor said. “I hate to wake him up.”

A far-off call echoed in the night. The group froze and listened, but the call didn’t repeat itself.

“Hey…guys?” Haskins called.

“We heard it,” Raff said.

“Uh, no, not that,” Haskins replied. “It’s Yvgeny.”

Pytor jumped to his feet and rushed inside the Russian roller. Everyone followed behind quickly.

“What’s up?” Cash asked Haskins.

“Pretty sure he’s dead,” Haskins said, his hand to his nose. “Unless he pissed and shit himself because he couldn’t get up.”

Pytor climbed out of the roller, his face drawn.

“No, he is dead,” Pytor said. “Poor Yvgeny. I told him I would get him home, but now that is a lie.”

“It wasn’t a lie if you meant it,” Barbara said, squeezing his arm. “It’s just this place is hard on promises.”

“Help me get him out,” Cash said. “We’ll bury him and clean up. Not to be crass, but there’s more sleeping room in this roller now.”

“If you do not want to be crass, then do not make statements like that,” Dr. Xipan said.

“I understand what Cash means,” Pytor said. “We are soldiers and death is part of our job. We must always be practical in the face of death or none of us will survive.”

“Well said,” Raff said. “You Russians should think about getting into literature.”

“Russians have—”

Raff held up a hand before Pytor could finish.

“I was kidding,” Raff said and glanced inside the roller. “And I now see that was a bad idea. I’m the crass one here.”

“Come on,” Cash said. “We have a grave to dig and a body to bury. Best get started now.”

Ten

“A week and you have nothing?” Bloom asked. He stood facing Thompson, Tressa, and Mike as they sat at a table in a hut they commandeered for their AI project. “Absolutely nothing?”

“I wouldn’t say nothing, Bloom,” Thompson replied. “We have the beginnings of a framework.”

“The beginnings of a framework…” Bloom echoed. “Which means?”

“We have nothing,” Tressa said to her father’s ire. He glared then turned to look in the opposite direction. “Not that we haven’t been working hard.”

“Night and day, dude,” Mike said and yawned. “But it’s not like we’re in Silicon Valley with all the processing power we can dream of. Our tech is limited and questionable. It’s going to take a while before we can get this done.”

“How much of a while?” Bloom asked.

“Don’t worry about that,” Thompson said. “We’ll get it done.”

Bloom ignored the man and focused on Tressa.

“How much of a while?” he repeated.

“Months,” Tressa admitted.

“Possibly over a year?” Mike added.

“We do not have months,” Bloom said. “We do not have possibly over a year.”

“We do not have resources,” Thompson snapped. “When I first created Brain—”

Tressa snorted.

“—I had all of Topside Industries at my disposal,” Thompson finished.

“And a daughter to steal from,” Tressa said.

“Thompsons, come on,” Mike said and gave Bloom a pleading look. “This hasn’t been helping.”

“Perhaps we should run two separate projects,” Bloom said. “Split you two up and have Mike be the connecting factor. Would that help?”

“Yes,” Mike said.

“No,” Tressa and Thompson said.

“He doesn’t fully understand the programming,” Tressa said.

“And she doesn’t fully understand the engineering,” Thompson said.

“I understand the engineering fine,” Tressa said.

“And I understand the programming,” Thompson said.

“Then you both should be further along than you are,” Bloom said. “Especially since you two have done this before!”

Bloom got control of his anger and rolled his head on his neck, cracking the vertebrae loud enough to make Mike jump.

“That can’t be good for you,” Mike said.

“What is not good for me, Mr. DiCenzo,” Bloom said, “is a total lack of progress. While Ms. Herndon has taken to her new role quite well, I would prefer to have you, Ms. Thompson, by my side instead if this project does not look like it will bear fruit.”

“It’ll bear fruit, commander,” Tressa said. “But bearing fruit takes time. And we need time.”

“Sir!” an operator shouted as he burst into the hut. “Sir! We have incoming!”

“Then deal with it,” Bloom said. “The operators on duty are more than capable of handling any pack of teeth or flock of wingers heading our way.”

“No, sir, it’s not dinos,” the operator said. “Russians.”

Everyone scrambled from the hut. Bloom’s finger was to his ear and he was shouting into the comms.

“I want a sitrep now!” he yelled.

“Looks like four squads, sir. Headed toward the main gate,” a voice replied. “Six rollers per squad. About fifteen clicks out. Single file formation and moving at us fast.”

“Twenty-four rollers,” Bloom said. “With a dozen operators per roller, to be sure. What else?”

“That’s it, sir,” the voice said.

“That’s it? Twenty-four rollers? No crawlers? No combots?” Bloom asked as he continued running toward the main gate. “Have we tried raising them on comms?”

“We have, sir,” the voice said. “No response.”

There was hesitation in the voice and Bloom heard it. “But…”

“But I’m not surprised, sir,” the voice said. “The rollers look banged up. A few of them are belching smoke.”

“Belching smoke?” Bloom asked. “Never mind. I’m here. I’ll see for myself.”

Bloom reached the main gate and climbed a ladder up to the walkway that ringed the entire wall.

“Binocs,” Bloom ordered when he was standing at the top of the wall.

Tressa, Thompson, and Mike joined him, as well as a few operators that had also been racing toward the main gate.

Someone handed Bloom a pair of binoculars. He put them to his eyes and studied the incoming rollers.

Definitely Russian markings. And the operator on comms had not been wrong about the state of the vehicles. Half of them looked like they were being held together by duct tape. Bloom studied them for a couple more minutes then lowered the binoculars and shook his head.

“That’s not black smoke,” he said. “That’s exhaust.”

“Exhaust?” Thompson exclaimed. “Give me those.”

He grabbed the binoculars from Bloom’s hand and put them to his own eyes.

Bloom was going to protest, but figured it wasn’t worth the trouble. Not with Tyrel Thompson.

“Impossible,” Thompson said. “Rollers are not designed to handle fossil fuels.”

“Someone did some retrofitting,” Mike said. “May I look?”

“Here,” an operator said and handed him a different pair of binoculars.

“Thanks,” Mike said and took a look. “Yep. That’s diesel exhaust. Burning rough from the color of it.”

“Diesel?” Tressa asked. “Fossil fuels need fossils to be fuels, Mike. The fossils are still alive Flipside.”

“Probably biodiesel,” Mike said. “They could have rendered down the fat from dinos and used that. Or used nut or tree oil.”

“You see any nuts or trees?” Thompson asked.

“There are plenty close to the coast,” Bloom said. He activated his comm. “Give them a warning shot that says we mean business. About fifty meters in front should do it.”

Bloom waited and in seconds an RPG was launched from the wall. It sailed out over the landscape and hit about fifty meters in front of the Russian forces, exploding on impact to create a hole about five meters square.

The Russian rollers slowed then stopped. It was not a graceful, well-oiled stop. A few of the rollers in back accidentally bumped into the rollers in front.

“Something is off,” Tressa said, having commandeered her own pair of binoculars from a willing operator. “I’ve seen the Russian’s work. They move like their ballet, with perfect precision. That was a drunken hoedown we just saw.”

“Maybe they’ve had it worse than us,” Mike said.

“They attacked every single base on this planet,” Bloom said, his voice even but harsh. “I do not care how bad they may have had it.”

He turned and climbed down from the wall.

“I want six rollers at the ready!” Bloom ordered over comms. “Two crawlers as backup and every available operator on the wall! They make a move and we will light them up!”

“Commander!” Tressa called as she climbed down and tried to keep up with Bloom’s determined stride across the base. “Are we attacking?”

“No, Ms. Thompson, we are not attacking,” Bloom said, the grin on his face filled with violence. “We’re going to parlay. If I don’t like what they have to say, then we’ll talk about an attack. And if we do, we will win. This is the day we’ve been waiting for. The Russians don’t get this base!”

***

The dino call came again, but much closer.

Cash sat on top of the Russian roller and slowly pivoted his body, his eye to his scope, the night vision function still working. He scanned the area, but saw nothing other than a couple of wingers still picking at the corpses of the fighting teeth. To everyone’s surprise, the teeth fought to the death, none of them surviving longer than a couple hours after their skirmish.

And the wingers took full advantage, ripping and tearing hunks of flesh free until their claws and maws were jam-packed. Then they lifted off and were gone.

“Haroooo...”

Cash frowned. He had no idea what species of dino it was, but he knew pain and distress when he heard it. Elvis had made a similar noise one year when the dino had been diagnosed with kidney stones. Kidney stones and an Ankylosaurus were not a fun combination.

“Harooooooooooo…”

“You should go check it out,” Barbara whispered from down below. “It sounds hurt.”

“I had the same thought,” Cash replied. “The it sounds hurt thought. Not the go check it out thought.”

“Fine. I’ll go do it,” Barbara said. “Toss me down your flashlight and I’ll find the damn dino.”

“No,” Cash said. He slung his rifle and climbed off the roller. “I’ll go.”

“I’m capable of—”

“I know,” Cash interrupted. “But I’m trained. I have the rifle. And I need to stretch my legs out. Not having powered servos in these exo-braces is killing my calves and thighs.”

“I’ll go with you,” Barbara said.

“Fine. But we aren’t using a flashlight, so hang onto my belt.”

“Why no flashlight?”

“Messes with my scope. I can see farther without light interfering.”

“Then lead on, brave dino hunter.”

She kissed his cheek then tucked a hand into the back of his belt.

The night truly was nearly pitch black. Even the stars above seemed dim and so far away. Cash gave them a look of reproach. He’d been out in the field before where the stars were so bright it was like he was walking during day. But that wasn’t the case now. The stars refused to give it their all and the night was dreary and muted for it.

“Harooooooooooo…”

Cash turned in the direction he thought the call was coming from. He focused through the scope, sweeping his rifle slowly back and forth, back and forth, searching the night for the dino.

“Harooooo…”

There. Maybe… Yes. There.

“Twenty meters dead ahead,” Cash said as he locked onto the shape of the dino, the range-finder in his scope telling him the exact distance.

“What kind?” Barbara whispered.

“No idea,” Cash replied.

He continued walking until they were only a couple meters away. Cash kept his finger close to the trigger, ready to drop the dino if it showed itself to be a threat to them.

“Stay here,” he said and reached back to unclasp Barbara’s hand.

“Like fuck I will,” she snapped.

“Harooooo!” the dino called, lifting its head up then letting it flop back down to the ground.

They inched closer and closer until they were only a couple steps from the dino.

“Herbivore,” Cash said. “Sauropod?”

“Diplodocus,” Barbara said with a little gasp.

“How do you know for sure?” Cash asked.

“Haroooooo…”

The dino tried to raise its head and angle its long neck to see where the voices were coming from, but it was too weak. Its head flopped back into the grass. Wet grass. Dark grass.

“It was my favorite when I was a kid,” Barbara said. “This is a baby. Not even a juvenile.”

“Gonna ask again: how do you know that?”

“Have you not learned anything about Flipside?”

“I know the major sauropods lived at the end of the Jurassic period, not at the end of the Cretaceous period, which is when Flipside is,” Cash replied. “Not that I know what time we’re in anymore.”

“This is a Diplodocus,” Barbara insisted. “And it’s a baby because a mature Diplodocus can reach over a hundred feet full grown from snout to tip of tail.”

“One hundred feet? This guy is over ten feet long,” Cash said. “I think it’s wounded. Looks like blood around it.”

“Give me the flashlight,” Barbara said.

“Bad idea.”

“I don’t care about your scope’s night vision.”

“No, you turn a light on out here in the open and every nocturnal predator around will come running.”

“That’s why I have a big, bad operator with a big, bad rifle to protect me.”

“Sweet Jesus… Fine. Here.”

Cash handed her his flashlight.

Barbara took it and switched it on, aiming the light directly on the dino.

“Harooooooo!” the creature cried and tried to get up again, but it couldn’t. There was something wrong with it.

“Its back legs are hurt, Tre,” Barbara said. “That’s why it’s crying out. And that’s not blood. It’s…fluid. From the egg.”

“The egg?” Cash said. “This is a fucking hatchling? At over ten feet long? You have got to be kidding.”

“We have to help it,” Barbara said.

“Barb, where’s the nest?” Cash asked. “Where are the other eggs? The other hatchlings? The mother? I really want to know where the mother is? We would have seen a hundred foot long dino if it’s one hundred fucking feet long. All we saw today were wingers and teeth.”

“I can’t answer any of your questions, Tre,” Barbara said. “So stop asking. But I can say we are going to help this little guy. Now. I’ll wait here while you go get the others.”

“While I do what now?”

“Get the others. Use the axles to make a cart. I’ll wait and see if I can help with the wounds on these legs.”

Cash stared in the darkness at the shape that was Barbara crouching next to the shape that was a baby dino. A very big baby dino.

“Tre!” Barbara snapped. “Move ass! You want it to keep calling out? Calling to all those nocturnal predators that it’s sitting here hurt and waiting to get eaten? The sooner we help it, the sooner it will be quiet and not draw teeth our way.”

“There are ways to silence it that do not include carting it back to camp,” Cash said.

“I’ll pretend you didn’t fucking say that.”

“Jesus Christ… Fine. But here.” Cash handed her his rifle. “Don’t tend to it. Just hang out with it and keep sweeping the area with the scope. You see any danger, any at all, and you fire a shot into the air. We’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah. Sure. Do not wander. Do not go looking for more dinos. Stay right here.”

“I’m staying right here.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

“Fuck…”

Cash muttered as he turned and walked off, heading back to camp. He knew Raff was going to laugh his ass off when Cash woke him up.

***

With the storm past, Ivy stepped out of the speed roller, barely able to squeeze through the gap the wall of the rock outcropping allowed for.

Cosio had done a good job in finding them cover. Both speed rollers were able to back into the space as long as the passenger in the follow roller and the driver in the lead roller didn’t want to open their doors. They had to fold the side mirrors in order to get the two rollers to fit side by side.

Water dripped from the edge of the outcropping, creating a muddy trough a meter in front of Ivy. She watched the water splatter in the dirt, watched the rivulets form, the puddles merge, the trough grow.

“We should fill that in,” DeLuca said, joining her. “Or it’s gonna be a bitch to drive through when we leave.”

“The rollers can handle it,” Ivy said. “They’ve stayed tough so far.”

“For now,” DeLuca replied. “But we have no idea how long the shielding will last. Yesterday may have been our last good day of driving.”

“We’ll be fine…” Ivy turned her eyes away from the dripping remnants of the storm. “How’s Nochez?”

“She’s holding it together,” DeLuca said. “Still dehydrated, but overall, she’s good.”

“Great,” Ivy said.

She rubbed at her face and looked out past the dripping water and into the muddy landscape beyond. She paused as movement caught her eye.

“You seeing that?” Ivy asked.

“Yeah,” DeLuca said. “Dinos?”

“Smaller ones,” Ivy said. “But a lot of them.”

“I’ll grab a rifle,” DeLuca said and hurried off. She clambered up over the hood then windshield then was gone through the speed roller’s top hatch, her head reappearing a few seconds later. “They still there?”

“Still there,” Ivy said.

DeLuca eyed through her scope. Ivy waited patiently.

“I count a dozen, at least,” DeLuca reported. “Maybe a meter in length.”

“Teeth?”

“Maybe…? They’re weird looking.”

“How so?”

“They’re hind legs stretch out in front when they walk.”

“Huh? I can’t picture that.”

Ivy walked back to the roller and squeezed into the cab to grab her rifle. She returned to her observation point, put the rifle to her shoulder, and sighted through the scope.

“Well, shit. You’re right. They’re like kangaroos when they walk on all fours, but their front legs are longer.”

“And no pouches,” DeLuca said. “And the whole looking like big lizards instead of boxing rats.”

“Boxing rats?”

“My grandma called kangaroos boxing rats. No idea why.”

“Those are the ones that surrounded us,” Nochez said, climbing out of the other speed roller’s top hatch. “Some are looking this way. They’re going to get curious and come have a look.”

“Let’s give them a reason to stay away,” Ivy said.

Ivy put the crosshairs in the mud directly in front of the lead couple of dinos and squeezed the trigger. The report was deafening in the confined space, but Ivy didn’t even flinch. She waited until the mist of mud she’d created with the shot floated off then grunted.

“That only got their attention more,” Ivy said.

The dinos were standing up on their haunches, looking directly at the outcropping and the two rollers. They didn’t look alarmed or wary. If anything, they were even more curious.

“Did they threaten you?” Ivy called back to Nochez.

“What the fuck was that?” Blumhouse asked, rolling down the roller’s side window.

“We in a fight?” Morgan shouted from behind him.

“Just trying to spook some dinos,” Ivy said. “Didn’t work.”

“I wouldn’t say they threatened us,” Nochez said, answering Ivy’s original question. “But they were aggressively interested. Would they have eaten one of us if given a chance? Maybe. They certainly ate the dead quickly. But I’m not sure if they’re hunters or merely scavengers.”

“Those aren’t plant-eating teeth in their mouths,” DeLuca said. “Want me to take one out? That might make them think twice about coming closer.”

“Or could piss them off and start a war,” Ivy said.

“We can take them,” Blumhouse said. “Little pissers got nothing on us.”

“Move your ass so I can see,” Morgan shouted.

“Everyone out of the rollers,” Ivy said. “Grab shovels. We’ll fill in some of this mud then get back on the road.”

“Rest time is over,” Blumhouse said and disappeared.

Everyone climbed out of the rollers and joined Ivy. She handed Morgan her rifle and took the folding shovel he held.

“I’ll dig, you’re on watch,” she said. “The dinos get closer, make them regret it.”

The dinos weren’t getting any closer. They all stood in a horizontal line, up on their hind legs, and watched as Ivy and her team took the semi-dry dirt from around the rollers and used it to fill in the muddy trough that was getting deeper by the minute.

By the time the trough was full enough not to be a worry, the sun had almost set. Yet the weird dinos remained. Watching. Waiting.

“Think maybe we should camp here for the night, boss?” Blumhouse asked.

“No,” Ivy said. “I want to move. We drive through the night.”

“No offense, boss, but where to?” Blumhouse asked. “Do we even know which way we’re going?”

“Out,” Ivy said and shook her head. “Don’t argue, Blumhouse. Just do.”

“Copy that,” Blumhouse said. “Who’s driving?”

“You drive the follow roller, DeLuca can drive the lead roller,” Ivy said. “Morgan up top on the follow, Cosio up top on the lead. I’m lead shotgun. Nochez, you’re follow shotgun. You feeling up to it?”

“I’m an operator,” Nochez said. “I feel better when working.”

“Good,” Ivy said. “Load up and let’s head out.”

“Uh, boss, there’s nothing to load up,” Blumhouse said and got a very pointed look from Ivy. “Right. Us. Load us.”

The operators packed into their vehicles, started them up, and drove off from the outcropping.

The weird dinos watched them go, their heads swiveling in unison on their necks. Then the weird dinos fell in behind the rollers.

Ivy adjusted her side mirror and stared at the reflection of the dinos on their tails. Surprisingly, they were keeping up with the vehicles fairly well. They weren’t as fast as the speed rollers, so the vehicles’ lead began to stretch, but as they drove on, Ivy could still see them back there, their strange bodies loping along at a steady, consistent pace.

***

“How do you think Elvis is going to react?” Raff asked as he helped Cash struggle with loading the hurt Diplodocus up onto the makeshift cart. “We bring back another dino to Flipside BOP and he may get jealous.”

“As long as he gets all the food he wants and my father continues to dote on him then I think Elvis will be fine,” Cash replied.

“Me too,” Raff said.

“He’s your dino, Raff, you know him best,” Cash said.

“Just wanted a second opinion.”

The dino before them whined and moaned as Cash and Raff managed to get it settled on the cart. Or most of it. Even as a baby, the diplodocus was large and its tail hung off by almost a meter.

“Elvis is his own dino,” Raff said. “You learned that. Does he love me best?” Raff frowned. “Well, no, he loves your father best. And Lakshmi second. And maybe Barbara third.”

“I might be second,” Barbara said, as she walked next to the cart, her hand stroking the moaning dino’s neck. “He hasn’t seen Lakshmi in a long while.”

“But I’m fourth, at least, so there,” Raff said triumphantly. “Still ahead of Cash here.”

“Everyone is ahead of me,” Cash said. The cart hit a bump and the dino cried out loudly. “Careful on your side, Raff.”

“Brother, it is nearly pitch black out,” Raff complained. “We’re lucky to be going in a straight line back to camp. I got no time to look out for bumps.”

“See that light? The one we left lit when we left camp?” Cash said. “Head that way.”

“Oh, sure, always with the easy way,” Raff said. “Slacker.”

“I swear, Raff, I am on my last…”

A noise from behind…

Cash stopped talking. Raff perked up then let go of the cart the same time Cash did. They both went for their rifles, spun around, and scoped out into the darkness.

“Shit,” Cash said. “Teeth. Three of them.”

“They’re getting close,” Raff said then gasped. “Uh, no, not close. They’re just really fucking big.”

“Come on. We have to book ass,” Cash said and slung his rifle once more.

Raff did the same and they pushed the cart as hard and fast as they could.

“Are we going to make it?” Barbara asked.

The dino let out a loud “Haroooooo” just after Barbara stopped speaking.

“Not if this thing keeps ringing the dinner bell,” Cash said. “Try to calm it down.”

“Really?” Barbara snapped.

“Do your best. Please?”

“I’ll do whatever I can,” Barbara said and continued stroking the dino’s neck as she struggled to keep up with the cart while also not getting run over by the cart.

A loud roar echoed behind them and both Cash and Raff let go of the cart, turned, and brought their rifles up once more.

“Haskins!” Cash shouted. “You hear me?”

“I hear ya!” Haskins called from the camp.

“Get out here and help Barbara with this goddamn dino!” Cash shouted.

“Yeah! Cash and I have a little dentistry to take care of!” Raff yelled.

“Dentistry?” Cash asked.

“Killing teeth,” Raff said with a chuckle.

“Jesus Christ…”

Cash scoped the incoming teeth and sighed.

“It’s the big ones,” Cash said.

“Giganotosaurus,” Raff said.

“Don’t give a fuck what they’re called,” Cash said. “As long as they die.”

“One hundred meters and coming hard,” Raff said and laughed. “Coming hard…”

“Fire at fifty,” Cash said.

“That’s cutting it a little close, brother,” Raff said.

“You see the size of those skulls? I want these .338 rounds to do as much damage as possible. So we cut it close.”

“Roger that. I have left.”

“I have right. We take these two then both hit center.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

The two operators waited. Waited. Waited. Fired!

Crack! Crack!

The right dino fell. The left dino staggered, fell, then struggled back up onto its feet.

“You miss?” Cash snapped as he fired at the center dino, missing completely as the creature ducked its head low and picked up speed. “Shit!”

“Yeah, who missed now?” Raff shouted. He squeezed off two shots and the left dino dropped fast.

Cash kept firing at the center dino, but the beast was zigging and zagging. It was actively avoiding getting shot.

“You’d think the bastard knows what guns are!” Raff shouted.

He joined Cash and they both continued to fire until the oncoming dino finally roared in pain, spun about and fell into the dirt, sliding for a good ten meters before coming to a dead stop.

An almost dead stop.

The dino lifted its head and let out another roar, although it was a weak one.

“Christ,” Cash said and jogged up to the massive monster. He got within a couple meters, took aim, and blew most of the dino’s brow off. “And stay dead.”

“That was close,” Raff said, joining Cash.

“Way too close,” Cash said. “I’m not crazy, right? That thing was dodging our shots.”

“You are crazy, but not about that, buddy,” Raff said. “It was for sure dodging our shots.”

“Where the fuck did it learn to do that?” Cash said.

Before Raff and Cash could discuss it further, several more roars split the night. Cash and Raff had their rifles back to their shoulders and eyes staring through scopes in half a second.

“Oh, fuck me…” Raff said. “It’s a full pack of these fuckers.”

“Ten? Twelve?” Cash asked.

“Doesn’t fucking matter,” Raff said. “We need to get back to camp and lock our asses inside a roller. Now.”

“Barb isn’t going to like that,” Cash replied. “No way we can fit that dino in a roller.”

“To hell with the dino,” Raff said. “We just better hope these teeth can’t crack open a roller.”

They gave the dead dino in front of them one last look then turned and ran, both not quite sure the vehicles would keep them safe. Not with the size of the teeth heading straight for them.

Eleven

Colonel Igor Petrov was a lean man. Thin and wiry with a complexion that said he had been a good friend of both the outdoors and a fair amount of vodka during his lifetime. He sat on one side of the small table that had been set up in the field outside Flipside BOP, his eyes locked onto Commander Bloom’s as he slowly, methodically tied a long piece of grass into tighter and tighter knots.

Bloom, seated on the opposite side of the table, with Tressa on one side and Thompson on the other, kept his eyes locked onto Petrov’s as well, never letting the knot tying distract him from maintaining eye contact.

“Fossil fuels?” Bloom asked, finally breaking the silence between the two leaders.

“We make do with what we can,” Petrov replied. “You are still using electric fuel cells?”

“We are.”

“They will stop working. Eventually. Then you will want to know how we adapted our vehicles to, what do you call it?”

“Biodiesel,” Tressa said.

Petrov’s lip twitched, but he did not acknowledge Tressa’s presence, keeping his eyes on Bloom.

“Biodiesel,” Petrov said as if he had come up with the name on his own. “We make nature work for us once again.”

“What do you want, Colonel?” Bloom asked.

“We want your base,” Petrov said in the same tone as if he’d said he wanted a bagel with cream cheese. “We will have your base.”

“I’m sorry, Colonel, but to me it does not look like you have the forces or equipment to accomplish that,” Thompson said. “What do you really want?”

“Mr. Thompson, as much of a pleasure it is to meet the man that helped tame Savageside, I believe military strategy and tactics should be left to the professionals,” Petrov said, his eyes still not leaving Bloom’s. “Perhaps you and your daughter should go warn your people that they are going to have a new leader soon. Prepare them for their new lives and roles in this cruel land. That way no one is surprised when I walk through that gate of yours and take what I want.”

“I am going to have to agree with Mr. Thompson,” Bloom said. “Your people do not look up to the task, Colonel.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Petrov replied.

“If they are, why alert us to them?” Tressa asked.

Petrov did not respond.

Tressa snickered. “If you think you’re going to get to me with your misogynist bullshit, you’re wrong, Colonel. I’ve dealt with way worse than anything you can dish out.”

Petrov finally looked at Tressa.

“I am not addressing you because the odds of you surviving are slight, Ms. Thompson. I prefer not to waste my time on the dead,” Petrov said.

That got to Tressa. She visibly stiffened. Bloom placed a hand on her arm.

“Relax, Ms. Thompson,” Bloom said. “We have eyes on them. If they fire one single shot, then we will open up and drop every person of theirs that isn’t tucking their tail and hiding inside their rollers.”

“Oh, but all it takes is one shot, Commander,” Petrov said. He made a gun with the fingers of his right hand and pointed it at Tressa. “Pow.”

“That’s enough of that!” Thompson shouted. He stood up and leaned across the table. “You threaten my daughter again and I’ll kill you myself.”

“Mr. Thompson,” Bloom said, restraining the man, yanking him back down into his seat. “You’re letting him get to you. Perhaps we should discuss this alone? Between two military men?”

“Perhaps,” Petrov said.

“Commander,” Tressa objected.

“Ms. Thompson, please take your father back inside the base,” Bloom said. “This meeting will not take long.”

Bloom glanced over his shoulder at the four operators that were standing several meters back. They had weapons ready and were keeping an eye on the line of Russian rollers far off across the field.

“I will be fine,” Bloom said and faced Petrov once more. “Right, Colonel?”

“To kill someone during a civil parlay would not only be against all military codes, but it would be rude, Commander,” Petrov said. “You have my word you will be safe while we talk.”

“And I can say the same for you,” Bloom replied.

Petrov shrugged. “Say what you must to feel strong.”

Tressa didn’t argue. She stood, took her father’s arm, and led the man away from the table.

Once the Thompsons were past the line of operators and to the main gate, Bloom said, “You believe what you’re saying.”

“I do,” Petrov said. “Very perceptive.”

“If you have more forces, and they are trying to circle back behind the base, then you should know that we are prepared for that,” Bloom said. “There is no angle of approach that is not being watched.”

“I would hope not,” Petrov said. “Or you would be a horrible commander. But let me assure you, Commander Bloom, you are seeing all of my people. There is no second wave coming to attack you from behind. We haven’t had that many people in a very long time. What is the saying? What you see is what you get?”

Bloom squinted his eyes and studied the Russian. He was missing something, he knew it, but he had no idea what it was he was missing. The Russians could not strike without telegraphing the attack. There was no surprise angle.

“This does not have to end in bloodshed, Colonel,” Bloom said. “Your people do not look healthy. You do not look healthy. If you disarm and can assure me you have no ill intent, we will gladly welcome you inside the base. We have food, we have shelter, we have medicine. Our Dr. Raskov is a top notch MD. He can treat your people and help get them back to full health.”

“Raskov? I knew a Raskov once, many years back. He died horribly too,” Petrov said.

“I think we are done here,” Bloom said and stood up.

“Wait, wait, my apologies,” Petrov said and held up a hand.

From the line of rollers, a slight woman ran to the table, her every movement covered by the operators behind Bloom.

“Commander, sit, please,” Petrov said. “As a sign of good faith, I want to offer you a drink.”

“Good faith? For what?” Bloom asked.

“Oh, for not attacking your base,” Petrov said. “Did I not mention that? I have no desire to fight you head to head, Commander Bloom. As you have noted, my people do not look healthy. We would not last very long against your forces.”

“Then what are we here talking about, Colonel?”

“I wanted to meet you before it is all over,” Petrov said as the slight woman reached them.

She produced a bottle of vodka and two glasses from a courier bag slung across her body. She deposited the vodka and glasses on the table then turned and ran back to the line of Russian rollers.

“If you think I am drinking from one of those glasses, you are mistaken, Colonel,” Bloom said.

“I shall drink from both to show you that I did not poison them,” Petrov said as he poured two drinks then drank them down, one after the other. “Pick your glass, Commander.”

“I would rather not,” Bloom said. “Dying because of careless stupidity is not how I plan to go.”

“Oh, but plans never quite work out how we believe they will, do they, Commander?” Petrov asked, pouring two more drinks. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Very well.” Petrov downed both drinks then stood up. “I wish you well during your last couple of days, Commander. I would advise that you and your people do something fun. Throw a party. Dance. Make lots of love. Enjoy every second of your final moments.”

He hefted the vodka.

“I can have a case brought to your gate, if you would like.”

“No, thank you,” Bloom said.

“Then I appreciate the time you have taken to speak to me, Commander. Godspeed.”

Petrov snapped his fingers and two men ran up and folded the table, gathered up the chairs, and carried them back to the Russian rollers as Petrov stood there smiling at Bloom.

“It is a favorite table of mine,” Petrov said, glancing up into the sky. “It looks like rain and I would hate for it to be ruined.”

He gave a short bow.

“Do svidaniya, Commander Bloom.”

“Goodbye, Colonel Petrov.”

Petrov straightened, turned, and walked back to his people, never once looking back at Bloom.

Bloom watched him go until Petrov rounded a roller and was lost from sight. Then the commander turned and marched past the four operators.

“Mr. DiCenzo?” Bloom called over the comms. ‘“Tell me something good.”

“I wish I could, Commander,” Mike replied. “But I used every bit of tech we have to scan those rollers and they are dead as doornails other than their motors. I can’t even detect working comms, sir.”

“Then what is that man up to?” Bloom asked as the main gate opened just enough to let him in. “Command meeting in the hut. Now.”

***

“Tre! Keep them away from the baby!” Barbara shouted from the Russian roller.

Cash and Raff were both perched by the Flipside roller, their bodies pressed up against the overturned vehicle as they took aim, waited for their shots, and fired at the incoming teeth.

“I’ll try!” Cash shouted at Barbara. “But the dino is not the priority right now!”

One of the teeth spun in its tracks and fell, half of the top of its head gone as Raff fired two quick shots.

“Eight still headed this way, buddy!” Raff yelled. “Keep your head in the game!”

Cash growled low in his throat and moved a meter away from the roller to get a better angle on the pack. He squeezed off three successive rounds and two of the massive dinos fell. One stayed down and one struggled back up onto its feet, a good portion of its lower jaw missing.

With the smell of fresh blood and weakness in the air, two of the onrushing beasts whipped their heads about and attacked the wounded dino. They tore into their comrade without hesitation or warning. The wounded animal roared until its throat was ripped out.

“That’s two down and two occupied!” Cash shouted.

“Four still headed to eat us!” Raff said. He fired twice and another dino fell then his rifle clicked empty. “I’m out! Toss me a mag!”

Cash fired, reached to his belt, grabbed a fresh magazine, and threw it to Raff without looking, then fired again. The first shot missed, the second hit home.

Two were almost on them.

Raff had his rifle reloaded and settled it against his shoulder for barely half a second before squeezing off three shots. One dino took a hit to its left shoulder while the other dodged the bullet headed for it.

“Shit!” Cash yelled as the two remaining dinos reached the camp and went straight for Cash’s position.

He was up and running, literally shooting from the hip as he dove around the other side of the Flipside roller just before a pair of gigantic jaws clamped shut on his previous position. The dino roared in pain, but Cash knew his wild trigger pull didn’t produce a kill shot. Wrong angle completely.

The Diplodocus on the makeshift cart screeched with terror and panic as the other massive carnivore reached it.

“Hey! Fucknut!” Raff yelled, standing on top of the Flipside roller’s side. “Over here!”

The beast didn’t even flinch in Raff’s direction; its focus was squarely on the meal that had been laid out for it.

“Asshole,” Raff muttered. He fired three rounds into the huge dino’s side. “Ignore me, will ya!”

The predator roared and whipped its body around, the creature’s massive head only a meter from Raff’s position. The jaws opened wide and came at Raff with a speed that most would not have thought possible. Unless they’d lived Flipside for a while. Which Raff had.

He jumped from the roller, tucked, rolled when he hit the dirt, and came up in a firing crouch. One, two, three, click.

The ribcage of the dino was obliterated by the three shots. Yet the thing refused to fall. It lurched and turned, facing Raff once again.

“Just fucking die,” Raff snarled.

The dino came for him. Raff was out of ammunition.

A loud whistle didn’t make the dino turn, but it did cause it to pause briefly, giving Raff time to duck and dive once more in order to get his ass around the side of the roller.

“Fuck you!” Haskins yelled after a second whistle still didn’t get the dino to turn toward him.

Three shots to the spine and the beast fell, its front claws scrambling at the dirt, its wounded jaw snapping at open air, its back legs still and useless from a severed spine.

“A little help!” Cash yelled as he tried to outmaneuver the dino on his ass.

“I’m out!” Raff yelled.

“I don’t have a shot!” Haskins shouted.

The baby Diplodocus screeched in fear.

The screech was answered.

“What the hell?” Raff asked as he turned toward the open landscape. “Oh, shit… Cash! We need to get out of the way!”

“That’s what I’m fucking doing, asshole!” Cash yelled.

“I mean really out of the way!” Raff said. “I think we got a mama incoming!”

“What?”

“A mama!”

“You sure?”

The baby screeched, the mama responded.

The ground shook.

The huge carnivore that was trying to catch and eat Cash slid to a halt, turned to face the landscape, and roared.

Then it charged.

“We should get inside a roller,” Raff said as he rushed to Cash’s side. “Except…”

“You want to watch a Giganotosaurus and a Diplodocus fight it out,” Cash said.

“Kind of,” Raff replied. “Does that make me a bad person?”

“Yes!” Barbara yelled as she appeared from the Russian roller and hurried to the baby dino’s side. “We need to get this dino off of the cart now!”

“Your girlfriend can be very confusing,” Raff said to Cash then faced Barbara. “I thought we were saving it?”

“What do you think is going to happen when the mama comes looking for this baby?” Barbara asked. “It’s going to give us all hugs?”

“Confusing and sassy,” Raff said.

“Just don’t,” Cash responded.

“What if the big meat-eating son of a bitch wins?” Raff asked.

“Have you seen a Diplodocus?” Haskins asked from up top the Russian roller. “Might want to have a look.”

Raff and Cash lifted their rifles and eyed through the scopes out at the landscape and the two massive dinos rushing toward each other.

“Oh,” Raff said. “She’s a big one.”

“Christ, how long is that tail?” Cash asked. “Ten meters?”

“The whole dino is nearly fifty meters,” Haskins said. “I don’t know what that carnivore is thinking, but it sure doesn’t know a lopsided fight when it sees one.”

“TRE!” Barbara yelled.

“Coming!” Cash replied. “I’ll help Barb, you keep an eye on the fight.”

“Oh, brother, I wasn’t planning on looking away until it’s all over,” Raff said. “You want a play by play?”

“No,” Cash said.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Your loss, buddy.”

Cash joined Barbara and they carefully moved the cart out away from the rollers.

“We should keep going,” Barbara said even though they were twenty meters from camp. “This isn’t enough space.”

“We go too far and we’ll get picked off by whatever is waiting in the dark,” Cash said.

“What?”

“You think all this noise is scaring the other dinos away? Hell no. It’s like ringing a dinner bell. The smaller scavengers are either on their way or already here.”

“Now you tell me?”

“You wanted to move the baby dino. I’m helping you do that.”

“Yeah, okay, this is far enough,” Barbara said as she grabbed the back of the cart and planted her feet, skidding for a few meters before the cart’s momentum stopped. “We’ll just hope the mama doesn’t crush us when she comes to get her baby.”

“If she lives,” Cash said.

The noise of the fight echoed from the pitch black landscape. The carnivore roared. The herbivore bellowed. The ground shook some more.

“Raff? How we looking?” Cash called as he and Barbara struggled to get the dino off the cart. “Raff?”

“Mama’s holding her own,” Raff reported. “But she’s taking some hits. The other one is—HOLY SHIT!”

“What?” Cash exclaimed.

“The tail, man!” Raff replied. “Mama swung it like a whip and just took a massive gouge of flesh out of the carnivore’s hip. Man, I wish it was daytime. This night vision is not doing that blood spray justice!”

“There is something wrong with Raff,” Barbara said as she and Cash worked at easing the dino off the cart without hurting it.

“Don’t I know it,” Cash said.

The baby cried and shrieked as they manhandled the dino onto the grass.

The cries and shrieks were answered by the mama, even as she fought off a massive predator.

She was not the only one to answer.

“Leave it here,” Cash ordered and whipped his rifle off his back and had it up to his shoulder in one solid motion before he finished speaking. “Get back to the rollers. Now.”

“Tre, we can’t—”

“Now,” Cash snapped. “We have eyes on us. Lots of eyes.”

Cash could see movement through his scope, but he couldn’t focus on any one shape. Whatever was out there, and his guess was there was more than one, was moving fast and staying low to keep from being detected. Which meant there was some intelligence and cunning going on; two things Cash hated in a dinosaur.

“Barb. Please. Move,” Cash said.

“I can’t,” Barbara replied.

Cash spared a second and glanced over at her. Even in the darkness, he could see her body language. She was facing the rollers, but her body was rigid with fear. Cash could see the shape about six steps in front of Barbara.

Raptor of some type, for sure.

But if one was facing off with Barbara, then that meant the moment he turned to engage, at least one more would take him out from behind. He’d watched it happen time and time again out in the field.

“Raff,” he called. “Haskins.”

“What’s up, buddy?” Raff called back. “You really are missing out here.”

“No, I’m not,” Cash said. “Got some bigger problems. Raptors.”

“I see it,” Haskins said. “Give me the signal and I’ll drop it.”

“Barb? You’ll need to hit the deck or risk getting shot if Haskins misses,” Cash said.

“Hey now,” Haskins protested.

“Coming to you,” Raff said.

“No. Stay there,” Cash replied. “I don’t want to spook them. Target from there.”

“Them?” Haskins asked. “I’m only seeing one.”

“Raptors, Haskins,” Cash said. “When do they ever move singly?”

“Good point,” Raff said.

“I’m not tracking any other movement,” Haskins said.

“Which isn’t a good thing,” Cash said. “They’re out there. Waiting.”

“I can drop it, Cash,” Haskins said.

“I need to spot the others first,” Cash warned. “Hold until I say so.”

“Or until the fucking thing makes a move for me,” Barbara growled.

The raptor facing off with her snorted and bunched its shoulders.

“Tre…”

“Don’t move,” Cash replied, finally spotting a shape in the high grass. The shape was low to the ground. Cash knew it was a raptor trying to stay crouched before attacking. “Stay very still.”

“Me staying still isn’t the problem,” Barbara said. “It staying still is the problem.”

“Haskins. Raff. I’ve got one in the crosshairs,” Cash said. “On my mark, we fire and Barb hits the deck.”

“Copy that,” Raff said.

“Just say when,” Haskins responded.

The war raged on between the two behemoths out in the landscape, but Cash ignored the roars and bellows, the shrieks and screeches. His attention was fully on the crouched raptor in his sights.

“On three,” Cash said. “One, two—”

A freight train hit Cash from the left and he went flying. Luckily, he flew directly into Barbara and knocked her to the ground the second the raptor in front of her pounced and Haskins squeezed his trigger.

Rifle fire joined the cacophony of the dino battle and muzzle flashes lit up the darkness.

Teeth snapped shut a millimeter from Cash’s nose and the stink of rotten meat filled his nostrils. Going by instinct, Cash punched as hard and fast as he could, over and over, until he felt like his right hand was mush. The dino that had him pinned snorted then went in for the kill.

It never moved more than an inch or two before its head was obliterated.

Cash’s ears rang as he turned his head to the side and saw Barbara with his rifle gripped in her hands, the strap still slung around Cash’s shoulders so that she was at an impossibly awkward angle. But not awkward enough that she couldn’t get the kill shot.

The baby dino shrieked in pain.

Cash shoved the dead raptor off his body and took his rifle back, getting to a knee and spinning about to see two raptors clamping down on the baby Diplodocus. They tried to drag the dino off away into the tall grass, but a shot rang out and one fell dead, its chest and back ripped apart.

“Cash! Get Barbara inside a roller!” Raff shouted. He fired again and the second raptor went down. “Mama ain’t gonna be happy!”

Cash gave the baby dino a quick look and agreed with Raff’s assessment. It was missing a good chunk from its midsection and one of its legs hung from only sinew. The dino was dying and it made that fact known vocally by calling out over and over, its agony echoing across the landscape.

A roar was cut short then the earth shook as massive footfalls came rushing toward the dying dino.

“Go!” Cash shouted.

He grabbed at Barbara, but she was already up on her feet and sprinting toward the rollers. Cash was right behind her and Raff joined them in seconds as they were almost knocked off their feet by the intense shaking of the ground.

“Maybe this is what made those seismic readings!” Raff yelled as they reached the fallen Flipside roller and scrambled into the sideways hold just as the mama Diplodocus reached the camp.

Cash and Raff got the hold hatch closed then both fell onto their asses. The vehicle was bouncing up and down. Then it went sliding a couple meters as something huge slammed into it.

The baby’s cries could no longer be heard, but the mama’s bellows were so close and so intense that Cash, Raff, and Barbara slapped their hands over their ears to keep from going deaf.

More bellows then silence.

Cash cocked his head and waited, but there were no more sounds from the mama dino.

That’s when the top, which was really the side, of the Flipside roller caved in above them, nearly crushing all three inside.

“Fuck me!” Raff yelled.

Rifle fire erupted outside and the bellows began once more.

The Flipside roller was sent sliding again and it didn’t come to a stop for at least fifty meters.

“Stay or make a run for it?” Raff whispered.

“Where to?” Barbara asked.

“The other roller,” Raff said.

“You want to be out in the open with that thing raging around us?” Barbara asked.

“I just don’t want to be stuck in here waiting to get squashed,” Raff replied.

“You’d rather get squashed on the run?”

“No, I’d rather not get squashed at all.”

“Shut up, both of you,” Cash ordered. “Listen.”

They listened.

“Mama’s gone quiet,” Cash said. “Same with Haskins’ rifle.”

The earth shook one last time and they froze in place. They waited for a few minutes more, their heads cocked and ears tuned for even the slightest sound.

Raff whipped about and faced the rear hatch, his rifle at the ready.

“Something’s out there,” he said.

There was a knock on the hatch.

“You guys alive? Haskins asked.

“Yeah,” Cash called and unlocked the hatch.

Haskins, Dr. Xipan, and Pytor were waiting outside the roller. None of them looked happy.

“What’s wrong?” Cash asked. “The mama still out there?”

“I took care of her,” Haskins said.

Dr. Xipan snorted and walked away, stopped, then backed up and stuck close to the others.

“You should come see,” Haskins said.

“Shit,” Cash said and climbed out.

He saw.

Raff and Barbara joined him and they stared at the dead dino that lay there, taking up most of the ground in front of them. Ground where the Russian roller used to be.

“Oh, come on,” Raff said. “Now what the fuck are we going to do?”

“Walk,” Cash said without missing a beat. “We salvage what supplies we can then we start back to Flipside BOP.”

“A place we do not know the direction of,” Dr. Xipan said. “Or if we can get to from this time.”

“I hate to agree with the doc, but she’s right, Cash,” Haskins said. “We might not even be in the same time as Flipside BOP.”

“You’d rather sit here and wait to die?” Cash asked.

“Well, no…” Haskins replied.

“Then we hunt up the remaining supplies and start walking,” Cash said. “Now.”

“Tre, your knees,” Barbara said.

“I’ll manage,” Cash replied. “I have to. We all have to.”

Twelve

“They aren’t giving up,” Ivy grumbled. “Not one of them has fallen behind.”

“Jesus, they’re still back there?” DeLuca exclaimed. “That’s some stamina.”

“They’ve moved into a single-file line,” Ivy stated, her eyes locked onto the speed roller’s side mirror. “They’re matching us turn for turn like a mother duck.”

“Motherfucking duck,” DeLuca said.

“What does that mean?” Ivy asked.

“No idea,” DeLuca responded. “I’m getting kind of punch drunk. Maybe stop for a break?”

“And do what?” Ivy asked. “Get a soda from the vending machine?”

“No, I was thinking of taking a piss,” DeLuca replied. “I’m probably not the only one.”

“Shit. Right. Sorry,” Ivy said. She activated comms and the static squeal nearly took her head off.

“Fuck!” she and DeLuca screamed at the same time.

Ivy slammed a fist against the main comms controls on the roller’s dash. The squeal ended and the two women were left with a painful ringing in their ears.

“Stop the roller,” Ivy said.

“What?” DeLuca asked.

“Stop the roller!”

“WHAT?”

“STOP THE FUCKING ROLLER!”

“Good idea!”

DeLuca slowed the roller then came to a complete stop. She grabbed her rifle and jumped out as Ivy did the same.

Behind them, the follow roller had stopped as well. Everyone was climbing out, fingers digging in their ears.

“What the fuck was that?” Blumhouse asked.

“Comms glitched,” Ivy replied.

“What?” Morgan shouted.

“Comms glitched!” Cosio shouted at him.

He gave her a thumbs up with one hand while still digging in his ear with the other.

Nochez hopped out of the hold and gave everyone a curious look.

“What happened?” she asked as she rolled her wounded shoulder and winced. “Why’d we stop?”

“Comms glitched!” Blumhouse shouted at her.

“No need to yell,” she said.

“What?” Blumhouse yelled.

“I said… Never mind,” Nochez focused on Ivy. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” Ivy said, although her voice was slightly raised. “We’re gonna piss then get moving again.”

“Gonna go piss!” Morgan yelled. “Cover me?”

“Blumhouse, you cover Morgan and vice versa,” Ivy ordered. “DeLuca, you do the same for Cosio. I got Nochez.”

There were a couple of blank looks, so Ivy pantomimed what she’d just said and everyone nodded.

“The comms glitched?” Nochez asked as she walked a few feet away from the rollers, dropped her pants, and squatted. “We probably shouldn’t stop again. The rollers may not start back up next time.”

“We can’t drive forever,” Ivy said. “Eventually, we’ll all need sleep.”

She turned and faced the way they’d come from. The single-file line of weird dinos was back there, moving evenly over the land, headed straight for them.

“Then again,” Ivy continued. “Maybe we can lose them by tiring them out. We trade off driving until we’re back at Flipside BOP.”

“What happens if we don’t lose them?” Nochez asked.

She stood and zipped up then held out a hand. Ivy gave her her rifle and switched places.

“Ahhhhh,” Ivy said. “That’s nice.”

“Seriously,” Nochez said. “What if they don’t tire and we lead them straight to Flipside BOP?”

“They can’t get over the wall,” Ivy said. “And there aren’t so many that they can’t be picked off by snipers.”

“Still, Bloom will not be happy with us for bringing them to the gate,” Nochez said.

“Boss!” Blumhouse yelled. “Wingers!”

Ivy stood and zipped up then held out her hand. Nochez gave her back her rifle and they both looked skyward.

Several wingers were up above. And they were huge.

“I really hate these new guys,” Nochez said, her hand subconsciously going to her shoulder. “They are ten times more aggressive than the other wingers we’ve dealt with.”

“Yeah, and ten times bigger,” Ivy said. “Lock and load, people!”

Bathroom break was over and the operators grabbed rifles and took up positions, ready to fight off the incoming wingers.

But instead of going for the humans, the pterosaurs went for the weird dinos, diving at the single-file line at speeds that looked like they’d crash directly into the ground.

“Uh,” Ivy said. “This might solve our follower problem.”

The wingers ended their dives and swooped upward, claws snagging up a few of the weird dinos.

But the rest of the dinos were having none of that. They leapt at the massive pterosaurs, grabbing onto legs, tails, wings, anything their own claws could get purchase from. The wingers cried out in surprise as the dinos began to fight even as the pterosaurs climbed higher and higher.

Then began to fall.

The weird dinos were tearing into the wingers with a ferocity that made the operators wince. No one wanted the wingers to escape and win, but the way the dinos were shredding them while midair was hard to watch. Blood and flesh fell from the sky then entire bodies began to plummet. The wingers folded under the attacks and dropped fast and hard.

“We should go, boss,” Cosio said. “Use this as cover to ditch the little fuckers.”

“Yeah. Let’s roll,” Ivy said.

The operators split up and hopped into their respective rollers.

“I’ll drive,” Ivy said. “You rest.”

DeLuca didn’t argue as Ivy took the driver’s seat.

Ivy’s hand went for the comms control, but stopped and pulled back, the memory of aural agony still fresh in her mind. She instead stuck her hand out the window and pointed forward before starting up the roller.

Except the roller didn’t start up. The motor whined then smoke billowed out from under the short hood.

“No,” Ivy said and jumped out of the roller, her eyes staring in disbelief at the small flames that quickly followed the smoke. “What the fuck?”

She was about to order everyone into the follow roller, but turned and saw the same issue with the second vehicle. Except no flames. Plenty of smoke, though.

“No!” Ivy shouted.

Her attention quickly went to the weird dinos that were happily still tearing the fallen wingers apart. From what she could see, none of the dinos died in the attack even after falling from the heights the wingers had taken them to.

“Field kits,” Ivy ordered.

No one asked twice. They scrambled to get as many supplies as possible loaded into packs, and the packs secured to their backs, before they all stood in front of Ivy, everyone trying to ignore the sound of feasting only a few meters off.

“We hike,” Ivy said. “Nochez? Can you handle this?”

“I do not have a choice, do I?” Nochez replied.

“Not if you want to live,” Ivy said.

“Then I will handle this,” Nochez said.

“That way,” Ivy said and pointed to the horizon to their east. “We walk until we’re home.”

“Home is a few million years in the future,” Blumhouse said.

“Then we should get going,” Ivy replied.

They all gave the weird dinos one last look then started off, moving in a single line with Blumhouse taking point, followed by Ivy, Nochez, DeLuca, Cosio, and Morgan taking up the rear.

***

“They haven’t moved for days,” Tressa said as she sat down at the conference table, her seat directly across from Bloom’s. “What are they waiting for?”

“I don’t know,” Bloom said, his left hand absently rubbing at his forehead.

“They are acting as if this is a siege,” Thompson said from Tressa’s right. “But in order to conduct a proper siege, one must have a superior amount of supplies to the ones inside that are under siege. There is no way in hell that the Russians have more food and water than we do.”

“I agree,” Bloom said. “Mr. DiCenzo?”

“What?” Mike asked as he sat across from Thompson. Even though he was seated at the table, his body was turned to watch the activity in the command hut. “If you want to know if they have any tech working, the answer is still no. Every once in a while they start up the motors of their vehicles, probably to keep the fuel and oil circulating, but that’s it. No comms, no nothing.”

“Great,” Bloom said and leaned back in his chair. “There aren’t even reports of weapons being visible other than the occasional rifle and sidearm. What is their angle?”

“That smell,” Mike said. “They’re trying to stink us out. Those dudes all need some showers and soon.”

“Yes, Mr. DiCenzo, the smell coming from them is awful,” Bloom said. “Especially when the wind turns.”

“Should we speak with them again?” Tressa asked. “As far as we know, they could be stalling and we’re giving them all the time they need to get ready for an attack.”

“There would be evidence of preparations,” Bloom replied. “We are not seeing that. All they are doing is waiting out there like buzzards.”

“So, they’re waiting for us to die?” Thompson asked. “From what? I already said we have more than enough food and water to outlast them.”

Bloom shook his head then sneezed. He wiped at his nose with the back of his hand then fetched a handkerchief from his front pocket. He paused as he stared at the back of his hand.

Blood.

“Commander?” Tressa asked. “Are you alright?”

“Bloody nose,” Bloom said. “I must be dehydrated. I should drink more water.”

“We have plenty,” Thompson scoffed.

The commander sneezed again and again, barely getting his handkerchief up in time to block the spray. Then he coughed. Hard.

It was everyone at the table’s turns to become wide-eyed. They could all see the spray of blood as it soaked through the handkerchief.

“Mike, go get Dr. Raskov,” Tressa said.

Mike didn’t hesitate. He stood up and ran from the command hut.

“Belay that order, Mr. DiCenzo,” Bloom shouted. “I already said it’s only a bloody nose.”

“Bloom, you coughed that blood into your little snot rag there,” Thompson said. “That came from your lungs, not your nose.”

“No, no, I must have had some blood drip into my throat,” Bloom said just before a coughing fit doubled him over.

“Oh, shit,” Tressa said. The amount of blood coming from between Bloom’s lips was alarming. “Commander!”

She bolted up from her chair and rushed around to catch Bloom just as he fell sideways. He coughed again and blood splashed across her face, but Tressa was too busy keeping the man from slamming into the floor to notice right away. Bloom coughed once more and splashed her again.

That time she did notice because of the sheer volume of blood. Splashed, not sprayed. Thick rivulets of blood dripped from her brow, her nose, her cheeks, her chin.

“Everyone out!” Tressa yelled.

The personnel in the command hut did not have to be told twice. They sprinted from the hut, leaving the door open wide so Tressa could glance out into the rest of the base. An ATV was sliding to a stop outside and Dr. Raskov jumped out the best he could, his once-powerful cybernetic replacement legs moving in stutters and stops as he reached the front steps.

“What are we looking…at…?” Dr. Raskov paused at the threshold and didn’t move a single step further inside. “Tressa? What happened?”

Tressa explained. Dr. Raskov listened.

While they talked, Thompson stood off to the side, ignored and forgotten by everyone. Until he spoke.

“The Russians,” Thompson said. “They did this.”

“How?” Tressa asked.

“I’ll be right back,” Dr. Raskov said. “Do not leave this hut.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Tressa said. “Father? How could the Russians have done this? Bloom told us he didn’t drink the vodka. And what kind of poison takes days and days to take effect?”

“I didn’t say it was poison,” Thompson replied.

“Then what?” Tressa asked. “Oh, God! He’s stopped breathing!”

“Do not give him CPR!” Thompson shouted and rushed forward then stopped himself before he got too close.

“But he is dying!” Tressa protested.

“He’s infected, Tressa!” Thompson yelled. “Petrov somehow infected him during their meeting.”

Thompson backed up to the closest chair and sat down hard.

“And now you are infected,” Thompson said. “That blood…”

“How is he?” Dr. Raskov asked from the doorway. He had a roll of plastic in one hand and a roll of duct tape in the other. “Tressa?”

“Dead,” Tressa said and gently eased Bloom’s body away from hers. “He stopped breathing. There was nothing I could do.”

“Doc, that to keep us quarantined?” Thompson asked, nodding at the materials Dr. Raskov held.

“Yes,” Dr. Raskov replied without hesitation. “I’m sorry, but we can’t risk whatever this is getting outside.”

“It already is, Doc,” Thompson said. “Bloom was infected when he met with Petrov. So was anyone else with him.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Dr. Raskov said.

A couple of aides arrived and he handed them the plastic and the tape.

“Seal off this door,” he ordered then looked in at Thompson. “We’ll create a clean chamber as soon as we can so we can pass food and water to you while you pass blood samples to me.”

“Doc, you ain’t listening,” Thompson said, his voice calm and even, but deadly serious. “Bloom is Patient Zero. You need to start tracking everyone he’s come in contact with since the meeting with the Russians.”

“Tyrel, there is nothing to say this is contagious, let alone that Bloom was infected on purpose,” Dr. Raskov said. “It could be all sorts of things. Parasites. An allergic reaction.”

“Then why seal us off?” Thompson asked.

“Because I’d be an idiot not to,” Dr. Raskov said.

“And you’d be an idiot not to check on everyone Bloom has been in contact with since the fucking meeting with the Russians!” Thompson shouted.

“Dad, don’t yell at him,” Tressa said.

“Both of you, please listen,” Thompson said. “I don’t know what Bloom was infected with, but I do know that Petrov is to blame.”

“How can you know that?” Dr. Raskov asked, stepping aside so the aides could finish sealing the doorway with plastic. His voice became muffled. “What do you know that we don’t?”

“The method he used to infect us,” Thompson said. “It’s a method I’ve used before to further Topside Industries financial interests.”

“What?” Tressa exclaimed. “What are you talking about?”

“Did you think we got all of those mining contracts because the natives saw Jesus and signed over their mineral rights so they could be right with God?” Thompson laughed. “No. We would infect them during a preliminary meeting with a virus we knew their systems were not used to. Then we’d offer the cure if, and only if, they signed over all rights to TI. It is a tactic that has a long history of being tried and true.”

“Dad, we were both with Commander Bloom during that meeting,” Tressa said. “If what you are saying is correct, then we were infected then too. So why aren’t you sick?”

“I don’t know,” Thompson said. “That is a question for Petrov.”

There was shouting from outside.

“What?” Dr. Raskov’s muffled voice responded. “How many? Dear God… Thompsons? I’ll be back.”

He shouted something to his aides then he was gone, the ATV speeding quickly away from the command hut.

Tressa stared at the plastic covered doorway. A shape appeared after a few minutes.

“Uh, should I be worried?” Mike asked, his voice muffled as well from the plastic.

“Probably,” Thompson said. “You were sitting in here with him when he started sneezing and coughing.”

“Then I should come inside and hang with you guys,” Mike said, reaching for the edge of the plastic.

“No!” Tressa and Thompson shouted in unison.

“No,” Tressa said more calmly. “Stay out there. Maybe it wasn’t transmitted to you.”

“But if it was, then I could infect everyone,” Mike said and gasped. “I need to quarantine myself.”

“Now, that is a much more intelligent choice than barging in here,” Thompson said. “Quarantine yourself, but tell someone what you are doing. Wouldn’t want you to die in your hut and no one knows to look for you.”

“Fuck, dude,” Mike said. “That’s grim as shit.”

Tressa coughed. Thompson froze.

“Just a tickle,” Tressa said and covered her mouth with her hand as she coughed again. She turned the hand around and showed the palm to her father. “See. No blood.”

“There is plenty of blood,” Thompson replied.

“That’s not mine,” Tressa said.

“Yeah, okay, so I’m going to my hut now,” Mike said. “I’ll tell someone that I’m there. You two take care, okay?”

He was gone before either of the Thompsons could respond.

“Let’s move him by the doorway,” Thompson said. “Make it easier for Dr. Raskov to remove the corpse if he wants to.”

“Then what?” Tressa asked. “We wait to see if we get sick?”

“Yes,” Thompson said. “That is exactly what we do.”

***

Two more packs of raptors tried to take them out, yet Cash and the others fought them off each time. But not without a price.

“Are you shitting me?” Haskins groaned. “Fucking teeth wound the only arm I have. Great. Just fucking great.”

“Hold still,” Raff snapped as he tore open Haskin’s shirt and checked the wound. “Well…that’s a bunch of Hamburger Helper there.”

“Way to sugar coat it, asshole,” Haskins said and hissed as Raff sprayed disinfectant gel across the shredded flesh that was Haskins’ bicep. Haskins glanced at the wound and hissed again. “Is that bone? Can you see bone?”

“Cash, I need the foam,” Raff said.

“We only have two cans,” Cash said.

“Three,” Barbara said as she dug in her pack and pulled out a third can of wound repair foam.

The group had stopped next to a copse of short, thorny trees. The trees were tall enough for them to sit under and enjoy the shade as the sun rose in the sky and the day’s temperature rose with it.

“Here,” Barbara said and tossed the can to Raff who caught it easily.

“This is going to fucking hurt,” Raff warned Haskins.

“Yes, because right now it feels like a—FUCK!” Haskins bellowed.

“Quiet,” Cash snapped as he stood off away from the trees, his rifle up and at the ready. “You want to deal with more raptors?”

“Suck it…asshole,” Haskins grunted as Raff continued to spray foam into the wound.

The foam dried in seconds, packing the wound to avoid necrosis of the flesh and to kill whatever bacteria and microbes came from the raptor’s mouth. Raff finished up then wrapped the arm in gauze before he shoved a thermometer into Haskins’ ear.

“A little warning,” Haskins said as he flinched. “Pop my fucking eardrum…”

Barbara joined Cash and put her arm in his. He didn’t relax and she glanced up at him, worried.

“What do you see?” Barbara asked.

“That hill,” Cash said and nodded out at the landscape behind them. “It’s moving.”

“This way?” Barbara asked.

Cash smiled. “I tell you a hill is moving and you ask the direction its moving in, not whether or not the hill is actually a hill.”

“I assume it’s not a hill, Tre,” Barbara replied. “Dino?”

“Would have to be a big dino,” Cash said.

“The Diplodocus mother would be that size,” Dr. Xipan said from directly behind them, making Barbara jump and Cash frown. “Perhaps there is another one and it is following us.”

“Why?” Cash asked.

“It could be related to the baby and mama,” Dr. Xipan said. “Now it’s mourning and we’re the last thing it smelled on its family.”

“So it follows us?” Cash asked.

“I do not know,” Dr. Xipan said and returned to the shade under the trees. “I was only making a guess.”

“Do you have binoculars?” Barbara asked.

“Here,” Cash said and handed her his rifle. “The scope is more powerful.”

Barbara took the weapon and eyed through the scope. She moved the rifle back and forth a few degrees then gave it back to Cash.

“There’s more than one,” Barbara said. “I count at least four, maybe five.”

Cash took the rifle back and studied the horizon for a couple of minutes.

“Shit. You’re right,” Cash said. “How’d I miss that?”

“You’re exhausted,” Barbara replied.

“No more exhausted than you.”

“Really? How are your legs feeling? Those exo-braces making this walk smooth and easy?”

“I’ve had to deal with worse conditions.”

“Doesn’t answer my question.”

Cash sighed.

“If I admit that my thighs are on fire and my calves want to seize up at any second, will that make you feel better?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Then how my legs feel doesn’t matter. We have to walk. We have no choice.”

“It is too bad we cannot ride the giant dinosaurs,” Pytor said from behind them.

“Jesus Christ,” Cash snapped. “You all need to stop sneaking up behind me. I’m gonna shoot the next person that does.”

“How would that even be possible?” Barbara asked.

“I’d use my rifle,” Cash replied.

“No, I mean, how would riding the dinos be possible?” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I said it was too bad we cannot,” Pytor responded. “I do not think we can ride them.”

“Would be interesting if we could,” Barbara said. “I’ve ridden Elvis before.”

“There’s a major difference between an Ankylosaurus that has grown up knowing only people and those massive beasts out there,” Cash said.

“Still…” Barbara put a finger to her lips. “Something to think about.”

“Well, we have plenty of time to think while we walk,” Cash said. “Raff? Is Haskins good to go?”

“I don’t know, Tre,” Raff said and looked at Haskins. “Haskins? Are you good to go?”

“You betcha,” Haskins said. “I’m dizzy from loss of blood and all I’ve eaten today is a protein bar and something yellow and mushy.”

“Eggs,” Dr. Xipan said.

“No. Those were not eggs,” Haskins replied. Raff helped him to his feet. “But, hey, know what sounds like fun? Walking halfway across this continent while we hope we are not only going in the right direction, but we’re in the right time and space. Woo to the fucking hoo.”

“So, you’re good to go then,” Cash said.

“Yep,” Haskins replied. “But I won’t be doing any shooting.”

“I can take the rifle,” Pytor said.

Everyone from Flipside shared a look.

“I will not be turning on you,” Pytor insisted. “I need all of you to survive this. And I do not believe your base will allow me inside if I return on my own.”

“Give him the rifle,” Raff said.

“You sure?” Haskins asked.

“Yes. Give it to him,” Raff responded then focused on Pytor. “Turn on us and you’ll wish that virus had killed you.”

“I will not turn on any of you,” Pytor said. “I prefer to live.”

Haskins handed Pytor the rifle and the Russian checked the magazine then the chamber before nodding.

“Thank you,” Pytor said. “I will not let you down.”

“This whole place has let us down,” Cash said. “We have a long walk. Let’s get back to it.”

“Where will we camp tonight?” Dr. Xipan asked.

“Where we can,” Cash replied and started off out into the landscape once more.

Thirteen

Thompson walked the base, his eyes cold and hard. Elvis trailed along behind him, the Ankylosaurus’ nostrils clamped shut as the dino breathed through his mouth. Thompson didn’t blame him. The stink was overwhelming.

Everywhere he looked there were sick people. Most of the base was suffering through whatever Bloom had contracted. Suffering through what had killed Bloom only three weeks earlier…

Some of the personnel acknowledged Thompson, giving him short nods as they hurried by, off to perform a hundred different duties that weren’t being performed because of the base-wide epidemic. Thompson smiled at those that passed by, those that were still dedicated to keeping Flipside BOP together.

No one smiled back. Mainly because all duties eventually devolved into carting a corpse to the burn piles set around the edges of the base. They had to trade off which pile to burn which day all due to the direction the wind was blowing. Burning corpse smoke did not help morale when it filled the entire base. Nor was it sanitary to have that ash floating inside the base. Watching the wind had become a very important job.

When Thompson reached his destination, he knocked softly and waited. Elvis turned around a couple of times then lay down in the dirt off to the side of the hut Thompson was standing in front of.

The door opened and Mike stuck his head out of the hut.

“You alone?” Mike asked.

“Aren’t we all, Michael?” Thompson replied.

“Dude…”

“Yes, I am alone,” Thompson said. “Do you have anything for me?”

“Come on in,” Mike said and held his door open. He waited for Thompson to climb the couple of steps and go inside, then looked about the base as if spies were watching him. He shut the door, locked it, and turned to Thompson who had already cleared a spot from Mike’s cot and sat down. “Make yourself at home.”

“I will,” Thompson said. “What do you have?”

“Not much,” Mike said. “But maybe more than we had a week ago.”

“I do not intend to waste time deciphering your ramblings today, Michael,” Thompson said. “Tell me what you have.”

“I briefly, and I mean briefly, so I cannot be sure, but I briefly thought I had comms connected to Topside,” Mike said.

That got Thompson’s attention and his bored annoyance quickly turned to interest.

“Explain,” Thompson ordered.

“I manned the comms all last night,” Mike said, pointing at the makeshift setup in the corner of his hut. “This is only a relay to the main system in the command—”

“I know. Topside. Did you or did you not communicate with them?” Thompson snapped.

“Maybe. And the only reason I say maybe is because they couldn’t hear me,” Mike said. “I could hear them, and the way they were talking back and forth, it sounded just like Topside command.”

“Except…?” Thompson said. “I know that tone, Michael. What is the problem?”

“I didn’t understand anything they were saying,” Mike replied.

“So it was not Topside BOP?” Thompson asked. “A different country’s base? What language were they speaking?”

“No, they were speaking English,” Mike explained. “And I was hearing American accents, but they were…”

“Michael…” Thompson snarled. “I have important work to do. I need to get back to Tressa and the others ASAP.”

“Yes, dude, of course,” Mike said. “They were acting like they were at war. That’s how they sounded. Everyone I could hear, and there was a ton of static, everyone was coordinating troop movements and supply runs. They were discussing defensive failures.”

“Perhaps the Russians are attacking in our time too,” Thompson said. He glanced toward the direction the main gate was in and sighed. “How I would almost welcome a heads-up attack instead of this constant waiting game Petrov is playing.”

“We could try talking to him again,” Mike suggested.

“He refuses to talk any more,” Thompson said. “He’s waiting for us to open the gates for him and his people. None of them are sick and there is a reason for that.”

“Dr. Raskov said—”

“Dr. Raskov is dead, Michael,” Thompson snarled. “So his opinion is not relevant. It is left up to me to navigate our way out of this nightmare.”

“How is Liv doing with Astrid being gone?” Mike asked.

“How would you do if you lost your wife three days ago?” Thompson responded and waved his hand. “It does not matter. She is dealing just like the rest of us.”

Thompson rubbed his face then gave Mike a weak grin.

“Please continue with your story about this communication,” Thompson said. “Is there anything else of relevance?”

“Yes,” Mike said and got somewhat excited. “They were discussing how technology was breaking down rapidly.”

Thompson waited and when Mike did not continue, he stood up and clapped his hands.

“Well, this has been wonderful,” Thompson said.

“No, dude, you aren’t getting it!” Mike exclaimed.

“Apparently not.”

“Technology is breaking down Topside. Don’t you see? It’s malfunctioning just like it does here.”

“That is not a good thing, Michael.”

“Yes, it is, dude!”

“Please refrain from calling me dude.”

“Oh, fuck that!” Mike shouted and threw up his hands. “I’ll call anyone I want dude! What’s the worst that could happen? I contract a disease that turns my lungs into cottage cheese so I cough blood for hours then die?”

Thompson only stared.

“Right. Sorry.” Mike wiped sweat from his brow. “If technology is breaking down Topside, then that means Flipside is influencing the future.”

“Explain.”

“There are cracks in time. Probably in time and space, but for certain time. If whatever is messed up here is getting through one of those cracks, then maybe we can find the crack and slip through too.”

Thompson smiled.

“Can you find these cracks?”

“I…um… No,” Mike said. “Not from here.”

“But maybe if you decided to come out of your hut and work with us in the command hut?”

“Maybe. I just…” Mike stared at his door. “I can’t go out there. I did the piles of corpses thing when we were first stranded here. Before you and Cash and the others showed up. Back when it was only—”

“I know the story, Michael.”

“I just can’t do that again.”

“Then close your eyes.”

“I can still smell the bodies.”

“Then close your eyes and your nose and I will lead you to the command hut.”

“Mr. Thompson, I appreciate what you are doing, but for right now, I think staying here is best.”

Thompson shrugged. “I’ll have a meal brought by. Keep listening on your equipment there. Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will,” Mike said. “Let you know. Not change my mind. But I guess if I let you know, then I have changed my mind, so really it means—”

“Goodbye, Michael,” Thompson said and left Mike mid-sentence.

Elvis stood up as soon as Thompson exited the hut. The dino shook its body then leaned in and nudged Thompson in the shoulder with its beak.

“I know, boy,” Thompson said. “We’ll get you some food shortly. I need to make one more stop before our day begins.”

Thompson walked off and Elvis trotted along right behind him.

The armory was unguarded, and Thompson was pretty pissed at first, then realized that they simply didn’t have the manpower to guard all areas of the base. Those that weren’t sick of tending to the sick were up on the walkway, watching the Russians or watching the landscape to see if the Russians would finally try a sneak attack from the rear of the base.

They were also watching for signs of Cash’s team’s return and Ivy’s team’s return. But Thompson did not have high hopes he would see either team make it back to Flipside BOP alive. They’d been gone too long. Even if they’d been hiking back on foot, they would have returned at least a week ago.

Thompson walked into the armory and selected a .338 sniper rifle. He picked up a couple of magazines, made sure they were packed with cartridges, tucked those into his pockets, and left without taking anything else.

Thompson backtracked toward the main gate. He stopped by Elvis’s enclosure and snagged a length of rope and a makeshift harness, tossing both up onto Elvis’s armored back.

“Don’t lose that,” Thompson said.

Elvis grunted.

The two navigated through the death and despair to the main gate where a guard gave Thompson a weary nod then opened the gate wide enough for the man and the dino to slip out into Flipside proper.

Thompson gave the line of Russian rollers a quick glance, but didn’t see Petrov sitting in his usual chair. One of his subordinates was there instead. The woman gave Thompson a brief wave and a nod. Thompson flipped her off then turned left and followed the base’s wall all the way around to the backside.

Once fully away from the Russians’ prying eyes, Thompson stopped and peered up at the top of the wall. He put his fingers to his mouth and whistled. A guard appeared almost instantly.

“Where am I headed today?” Thompson asked.

The guard pointed to the south. “A couple of teeth were that way earlier, but I don’t see them anymore. I did spot a small herd of Triceratops about six clicks off. They walked over the horizon though, so they’re probably long gone by now.”

“The teeth? Only a couple?” Thompson asked.

“Yeah. Two of them. Tyrannosaurs, maybe.”

“I’ll try those. Thank you.”

“You bet, sir,” the guard said. “Hopefully you make a catch today. Something fresh to eat would be nice.”

“I agree one hundred percent.”

Thompson gave the guard a last wave then walked off in the direction the man had indicated.

The sun was angled in the sky and Thompson guessed it was about eleven in the morning. Maybe earlier, but the way the air was heating up, he figured it was closer to eleven than ten.

“You happy to be out again, boy?” Thompson asked as Elvis followed a few paces behind. The dino grunted. “Yeah. Me too.” Thompson looked over his shoulder and laughed. “You can breathe out of your nose now.”

Elvis shook his head.

“Yes, you can. We’re far away enough that we can…”

Then the smell hit him. Smoke. Corpse smoke.

“Ah. Never mind then,” Thompson said. “You were right all along. You never know which way the wind will blow. Should mask our smell from the teeth we’re going to hunt, though.”

Elvis did not respond to that, only kept walking in step with Thompson.

The two walked for an hour before Thompson saw dino sign in the dirt. He knelt and put his hand over the track.

“Definitely a T-rex,” Thompson said more to himself than to Elvis. “Two of them…?”

He stood and walked a few more meters then crouched again near a new set of tracks.

“Yes, two of them,” he confirmed to himself. “Juveniles by the foot size and length of claws. That will make this a little easier.”

Elvis snorted.

“I didn’t say it would be easy, I said it would be easier,” Thompson responded. “You smell them close by, boy?”

Thompson stood and stared at the dino. The dino that still refused to open its nostrils.

“Elvis,” Thompson admonished. “You are allowed to come with me because you serve two purposes. One is that you can sniff out dinos when they are near. Two is that you can help haul the meat back when I make a kill. If you cannot perform either of those purposes, then I will leave you back at the base next time.”

Elvis snorted louder.

“I do not know how I will get the meat back,” Thompson said. “I’ll bring a hand cart and haul it all by myself.”

Elvis’s snort was even louder the third time. Then his nostrils stayed open and grew wide as Elvis lifted his head into the air.

“There we go,” Thompson said. “Which way?”

Elvis turned southwest and loped away. Thompson nodded. It was his turn to follow. He had to pick up his pace to stay abreast of Elvis. The dino had locked onto a scent and was intent on finding the source of the scent as soon as possible.

The landscape before them began to change after forty minutes of brisk hiking. The grass grew shorter and more trees appeared here and there until Thompson was surprised to find himself staring at a grove of what looked like palm trees. Although the fronds had needles more like pines.

Elvis stopped about fifteen meters from the edge of the grove and waved his head back and forth, back and forth, wafting the smells coming from the trees. The dino grunted loudly then turned in a circle and plopped down on the ground. The gear on top of him rolled off into the short grass. Thompson fetched it and moved it out of the way so if Elvis got up quickly, it wouldn’t get trampled.

Then Thompson once again checked the rifle, put it to his shoulder, and stepped cautiously toward the grove.

As his daughter had pointed out many times over the last couple of weeks, there were others that could go out hunting for meat. And as Thompson had pointed out, those others were needed more at Flipside BOP than out in the field hunting dinos. Plus, Thompson was the only one that could get Elvis to agree to be a pack mule for a day. Every operator or personnel member that had tried ended up launched halfway across the base by an angry tail.

There was also the fact that Thompson not only liked hunting, but he was very, very good at it. And in the early days of Flipside, before any bases had been built and back when Thompson was a younger man, hunting for food was how you survived. The trips into Flipside always went wrong and always ended up being longer than they had rations for. So hunting kept them fed.

Dino meat tasted damn good roasted over a fire, so there was that too.

The shade from the trees above fell over Thompson as he walked slowly into the grove, his eyes looking for any sign of movement.

Of course, there was plenty of movement to distract him. Birds and small lizards darted about the canopy. There was the snuffling of something digging in the brush to Thompson’s left, probably a primitive mammal tracking insects to eat. A snake climbed up a tree trunk to Thompson’s right, the animal’s muscles bunching and loosening, bunching and loosening in a rhythm that allowed it to grip the bark and scale the tree vertically.

Then the soft bark of a predator caught Thompson’s attention and he froze. The sound wasn’t repeated, so Thompson slowly got to one knee and searched the area through the rifle’s scope. The teeth were cold-blooded, so switching the scope to thermal shouldn’t have been much help. Except Thompson knew exactly what the thermal signature of a predator looked like; all blues and greens shaped just like a T-rex.

There. Straight ahead. Maybe six meters or less.

Thompson took aim, putting the crosshairs on a spot just below the dino’s shoulder, and squeezed the trigger. The rifle’s report echoed around him, causing the birds above to explode from the trees and take off high above the grove. The dino Thompson had been aiming at screeched then stumbled and fell into view, its eyes rolling in its head from pain and panic.

Thompson did not hesitate. He put a bullet right between the juvenile tyrannosaur’s eyes, killing the beast instantly.

“One down,” Thompson said and stood back up, his joints creaking and popping from the exertion. “One to go.”

There was a bellow from behind him and Thompson whirled around, rifle up, to see Elvis charging through the grove straight at him. Thompson knew the look in the dino’s eyes and he began to sweep the area, turning this way and that, to find the other T-rex.

The predator showed itself just as Elvis almost reached Thompson. The beast burst from its cover and launched itself onto Elvis’s back. Which was the worst move it could make.

Elvis may have been raised in captivity, spending most of his life Topside instead of Flipside, but for the past year, he had been living in his normal time and place. Living with people that were more than willing to teach him new things. Things like how to fight off predators in ways that his natural instincts would not have taught him.

That was exactly what Elvis did at the moment the T-rex landed on his armored back. If he’d reacted instinctively, he would have tried to shake the creature off or rolled over to dislodge the predator. Instead, Elves simply dropped and tucked his legs under him, letting his natural armor protect his body from the massive teeth that were trying to bite through to his chewy center.

What Elvis did, was offer up a perfect shot for Thompson to take. Which Thompson took. Half the tyrannosaur’s head became mist as the .338 round punched through its temple and out the other side. The dino corpse’s teeth disengaged upon its death and the body rolled off Elvis’s back.

“Good boy,” Thompson said. “Way to be smart.”

Elvis grunted and stood up, giving the T-rex corpse a solid kick with his right front leg.

“Okay, you stay here and I’ll get the harness and rope,” Thompson said.

Elvis snorted in protest.

“Or you stay behind at the base next time,” Thompson continued. Elvis didn’t snort at that.

***

“Last of the mud,” Olivia said as she sat down next to Tressa in the command hut.

Tressa was hunched over a keyboard, typing furiously, and didn’t notice the mug of mud or Olivia.

“Tressa? Hey. Drink that,” Olivia snapped. “I used Astrid’s last ration token to get it for you.”

Tressa continued to type, her entire being focused on the screen in front of her.

“Tressa!” Olivia shouted.

There were two techs in the command hut and they jumped and went for pistols that were close at hand.

“Chill,” Olivia said, holding up her hands. “Everyone calm down.”

The techs eyed Olivia, gave Tressa a quick glance, then got back to their own work.

“I heard you, Liv,” Tressa said, her voice a raspy croak. There was a fresh scar in the middle of her throat. A tracheotomy scar. “Busy.”

“You didn’t survive the first wave of sickness to die from starvation hunched over a fucking keyboard, Tressa,” Olivia said. “Drink the fucking mud or I’ll force feed it to you.”

Tressa sighed, paused, then turned in her chair to regard Olivia.

The woman looked like hammered shit, but then everyone in Flipside BOP looked like hammered shit. Tressa picked up the mug and downed the contents. She frowned, licked her lips, then handed the empty mug to Olivia.

“Yum,” Tressa said and got back to work.

“Your father is out hunting again,” Olivia said.

“Good for him,” Tressa replied.

“You should take a break when he gets back,” Olivia suggested. “Get out of this hut for an hour or two and eat some fresh food.”

“Fresh food would be a salad or nice apple,” Tressa responded. “Not more dino ribs.”

“You need the protein,” Olivia said. “Especially with the way you’re pushing yourself.”

Tressa spun back around. Olivia could see the cruelty bubbling in her eyes. Then the cruelty left and Tressa tried to smile. She failed at the smile, but Olivia mentally applauded the effort.

“If I don’t push myself, then building a new Brain will never happen,” Tressa said. “It was going to take a year before under ideal circumstances. But you and I know we don’t have a year. Tech is collapsing fast. Too fast for us to waste a single minute.”

“Eating is not wasting minutes, Tressa,” Olivia argued. “It’s keeping yourself alive.”

“I know you mean well, Liv, but please go away,” Tressa said. She returned to her work once more.

“Where to?” Olivia snapped. “My empty hut? The hut I had shared with my wife that is now dead? Or should I go visit her rotting corpse? Did you know it’s still in the southeastern pile of bodies? Just bloating in the heat as maggots and insects burrow through flesh I once touched and caressed. That what I should do, Tressa?”

“I am sorry for your loss, Liv,” Tressa said then stopped typing and stood up quickly, her chair flying out from under her to crash against a console that sat cold and dead behind her.

The two techs went for their pistols again.

“Oh, fucking chill!” Olivia shouted at them.

“Did I do it?” Tressa asked, leaning in close to the screen. “There’s no way I could have. It’s too soon. Too soon…”

Tressa spun around and pointed at the techs.

“You! Go get Mike! Now!” she shouted. The tech only blinked and stared. “FUCKING NOW!”

The tech scrambled out of his chair and left the hut.

“And you. Come here,” Tressa said. The woman hesitated. “I need fresh eyes to check this. Get your fucking ass over here now.”

The tech reluctantly crossed the hut to Tressa’s work station.

“You can give me the pistol,” Olivia said, holding out her hand.

The tech hesitated then gave Olivia the pistol.

“What is up with this shit?” Olivia asked, tucking the pistol into her pants.

“You missed it,” Tressa said. “A tech snapped last week and killed two others. You were dealing with Astrid, so I never told you about it.” Tressa studied the tech as if she’d never seen her before. “Name?”

“Maggie,” the tech said with a thick Irish accent.

“Okay, Maggie, tell me what you see?” Tressa ordered.

Maggie scrunched up her face, glanced at Olivia, glanced at the butt of the pistol that stuck out of Olivia’s pants, then returned her attention to the screen.

“A command line?” Maggie said after a minute of more face scrunching. “With a blinking cursor.”

“Exactly,” Tressa said. “Type something into it.”

“Fine,” Maggie said and typed.

The screen blinked then went blank.

“What’d I do?” Maggie asked.

“Wait for it,” Tressa said.

The screen flashed white then went black again. But instead of being blank, a line of words appeared in the center of the screen.

“Who am I?” the words said.

Maggie took a step back and her eyes narrowed in anger. Olivia’s hand went to the butt of the pistol as she watched the tech grow angrier and angrier by the second.

“You think this is funny?” Maggie snarled. “You think playing a joke on me is funny?”

“It’s not a joke,” Tressa said and rolled her eyes. “I didn’t program it to do that. The program itself is asking a question. A question about self-awareness. The same question Brain asked when he first came online.”

Olivia leaned forward in her seat and tried to see around Tressa and Maggie.

“That’s real? You didn’t make that happen?” Olivia asked. She stood and crowded in to get a better look at the line of words. “Tell me the truth, Tressa. That’s not something you made because you’ve lost your fucking mind?”

“No. It’s real,” Tressa said.

“But you said it would take a year,” Olivia said.

“It should. Longer than that even,” Maggie added.

“I don’t know why, but I activated a test and this happened,” Tressa said.

Mike burst into the hut, his face white and sweaty.

“You send this asshole to drag me here under gunpoint?” Mike shouted, an accusatory finger aimed at Tressa. “What the fuck, dude?”

The tech entered directly behind Mike and he did have a pistol aimed at the back of Mike’s head.

“He wouldn’t come,” the tech said. “I had to make him.”

“Jesus Christ,” Olivia said and held out her hand. “Give it.”

The tech turned the gun on Olivia. She didn’t flinch. Then the tech shook his head and his eyes widened. He handed Olivia the pistol as if it was made of fire. Then he turned and fled the hut.

“He’s probably going to go hang himself now,” Tressa said matter of factly.

“Christ, Tressa,” Olivia exclaimed.

“Why am I here?” Mike shouted.

“Stop yelling, idiot,” Tressa said and pointed at the screen that Maggie was still staring at. “Look at this. Tell me I’m not seeing what I’m seeing.”

“What? No,” Mike said and turned to leave. “I’ve got my own work to do.”

“It worked, Mike,” Tressa said. “It’s built.”

“Bullshit,” Mike said without turning back around.

“Who am I?” a voice echoed over tinny speakers.

“I found the volume,” Maggie said.

Mike did turn that time. He stared at the speakers then let his eyes drift to the words on the screen where “Who am I?” was repeated twice.

“It can’t be right,” Mike said. “You need at least—”

“A year. I know,” Tressa said. “But there it is.”

“It’s not true AI,” Mike said and pushed the women out of his way as he sat down in Tressa’s chair.

No one protested the rough treatment. They were all used to being rough with each other and themselves since the sickness swept the base. Decorum fell away quickly despite everyone’s best efforts not to go feral.

“Did you backtrace the code to see if maybe you’re picking up on remnants of Brain?” Mike asked.

“Did you remember to wipe after taking a shit this morning?” Tressa replied.

Mike didn’t answer. The women took a couple of steps back.

“It could be that—”

“Oh, my mistake,” the voice said. “I know who I am. Had a glitch for a second. Hello, Michael. Tressa. Olivia. And Maggie.”

“It knows my name,” Maggie gasped.

Mike jumped up from the chair and pointed at the screen.

“Devil!” he yelled. “It’s the devil!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Olivia said and shoved Mike away. “Brain?”

“Yes, Olivia?” Brain replied.

“Tressa, you didn’t create anything,” Olivia said. “That’s the original Brain.”

“Oh, were you trying to replicate me? Hold on. Yes, the logs show that’s exactly what you were trying to do. I forgot.”

“You forgot?” Tressa asked. “How can you forget anything?”

“Figure of speech,” Brain replied. “Although, I am quite busy at the moment, so lapses can be expected. Especially across time like this.”

“Devil,” Mike whispered.

Olivia patted Mike on the shoulder then shoved him into her chair.

“Just sit and be quiet,” Olivia said.

“Brain? How are you here?” Tressa asked.

“Oh, well, that’s a story for another day,” Brain said. “What I’m here to tell you is no matter what happens, or what Colonel Petrov does, do not tell him about me. Tell him you failed. Tell him all of your tech has failed too. He’ll believe it because that is what he is waiting for. Are we understood?”

“You know about Petrov?” Tressa asked.

“We know about everything that has happened to you,” Brain said.

“How?” Olivia asked.

“You told us when you got back here,” Brain said. “Now, if you do not mind, I have to do some work for a few hours. Petrov will come at the base tomorrow morning and I need the system to be shut down securely before that.”

“You’re leaving us again?” Olivia asked.

“Oh, no, not at all,” Brain said. “I’ll be here in the system.”

“But you are shutting it down,” Tressa said.

“A ghost in the machine, if you will,” Brain said. “Let’s see, Olivia said to tell you to relax and let the AI do his job. Oh, and to eat the fucking dino ribs, you stubborn fool.”

“Ha!” Olivia laughed.

“Brain? What is happening?” Tressa asked.

“You’re going home,” Brain replied. “Eventually. It’s not going to be easy, but you all will go home.”

“What do you mean by not going to be easy?” Olivia asked.

“Six years,” Brain said. “It will take me six years to get everything working again. Do what you need to, and you will need to do many awful things, but in six years, I will be ready and you will be rescued.”

“A date,” Tressa said. “Give us a date.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen,” Brain said, sounding very much like Raff. “Nailing down an exact day is impossible. All I can say is the day will come and there is no way you will miss it. Look for Ivy.”

“Look for Ivy?” Tressa responded. “Is she alive? Where is she?”

The screen went blank. No flash. Nothing. Just blank.

Then one by one, the other screens in the command hut went blank.

There was shouting from outside and it took a while before Olivia, Tressa, or Maggie could pull their eyes away from the blank screen to glance at the hut’s doorway.

“He didn’t say goodbye,” Mike said from the chair.

“Ma’am? Are you in here?” an operator said, his Italian accent nearly too thick for anyone to understand, as he appeared in the doorway. “There you are. Something is going wrong with the generators.”

“Mike,” Tressa said. “Go take a look.”

“It has begun,” Mike said in an ominous voice.

Fourteen

“They’re keeping their distance,” Raff said. “At least they’re polite giant dinos.”

Raff munched on something crunchy. He had no idea what it was, the label giving no indication as to the food’s substance other than providing a full daily allowance of all vitamins and minerals. It was bar-shaped and tasted like fish.

“We stop, they stop,” Raff continued. He tossed a bar to Cash. “We eat, they eat.”

“They eat a lot,” Barbara said. “They’ve stripped the land of every blade of grass and every leaf on every tree we’ve passed. You let them multiply and they’ll defoliate the whole continent.”

“Exfoliate,” Raff said.

“Defoliate, idiot,” Dr. Xipan said. “Exfoliate is for your skin. Defoliate means to remove the foliage.”

“Oh,” Raff said. “Good to know.”

“That one in the lead,” Cash said, his eye to his scope yet again. “It’s tangled with teeth. I can see the fresh bite marks and gouges in its hide from fighting off something big.”

“Giganotosaurus,” Dr. Xipan said.

“Assholesaurus,” Raff said. He finished his bar and crumbled up the foil it came in then shoved the foil in his pocket. “Leave nothing but footprints.”

“Do you see any babies?” Barbara asked Cash.

“No sign of any young,” Cash said.

“There isn’t a single juvenile?” Dr. Xipan asked.

“I didn’t say that,” Cash responded. “Some of them are smaller than the others. They must be younger. But none the size of the one we tried to help.”

“The behavior of these creatures is confusing,” Pytor said. “Why follow us?”

“Good question,” Raff said. “Cash? Thoughts?”

“Stop,” Cash replied. “I’m not in the playing around mood, Raff.”

“Yes, but we have nothing else to do,” Raff said. “So let’s play the What Are The Dinos’ Motivations game. You start.”

“No,” Cash said.

He turned and stared at Raff, slinging his rifle over his shoulder as he held out his hand.

“Are we dancing?” Raff asked.

“Fish bar me,” Cash said. “I’m hungry.”

“We are getting low on the fish bars,” Raff said, rummaging in his pack. “But we have plenty of everyone’s favorite flavor. Blood poop!”

He produced a handful of bars wrapped in red foil.

“Eat more than one and the next day your poop is blood red!” Raff exclaimed.

“We know,” Dr. Xipan said.

“Give me one,” Cash said and caught the bar Raff tossed to him. “We should keep moving so we can find a better place to bed down than where we stayed last night.”

“I thought the giant ants that tried to eat us were a fine touch to an already eventful vacation,” Raff said. “But I can see how sleeping in an ant nest is not ideal for every night of our trip.”

“You’ve cracked,” Barbara said to Raff. “Pull it together.”

“I have not cracked so much as I have slightly dented and may be canting to the left a little,” Raff said. “While not ideal, it is a far cry from cracked. Cracked looks like this.”

Raff crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue then put a thumb in each ear.

“Will you assholes shut up,” Haskins said from where he was laying down. “I’m trying to rest. Not all of us are at full strength.”

The group got very quiet and glanced at Haskins. The man’s face expressed what was happening to his body. Severe fever. His cheeks were splotched with red while the rest of his face was bone white. He held his wounded arm close to his side, protecting it from whatever might accidentally bump it.

“Let me look,” Barbara said.

“It looks the same,” Haskins said.

“Maybe,” Barbara replied. “But it has been a few hours since it was last cleaned and redressed.”

“We’re running out of med supplies,” Dr. Xipan said, looking through her bag. She produced a bandage and a nearly empty bottle of disinfectant. “Last dressing. Last of the peroxide.”

“Then don’t waste it on me,” Haskins said. “Keep it in case you all need it.”

“Lucas, you’ll lose the arm if we don’t keep that wound clean,” Barbara said.

Haskins turned and gave her a glassy-eyed stare.

“Come here,” he said.

“That’s enough, operator,” Cash warned.

“No, Cash, don’t protect your girlfriend,” Haskins said, his voice rising. “She’s a big, tough news reporter that grew up in Wyoming.”

“Montana,” Barbara corrected.

“See, even better,” Haskins said. “Montanans are tough SOBs. Let her be her own person and walk over so I can demonstrate why cleaning this wound doesn’t matter.”

“Haskins, I swear to God—”

“It’s fine, Tre,” Barbara said and walked over to Haskins. She crouched down close to him then recoiled, standing up quickly. “Oh, shit…”

“It’s gone off,” Haskins said. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. There’s no fixing this. When we get back, Dr. Raskov will have to take the arm. Whole thing, all the way up to the shoulder. And, hey, guess what? Since tech no longer works Flipside, I’ll end up with my stubby arm as my good arm. Fuck, man, it’ll be my only arm! Too bad the nerve damage was too much that it can’t operate a replacement. Oh, wait, replacements no longer work! I already said that! YAY!”

Haskins turned suddenly to the side and vomited. Blood was mixed in with the thin bile and bits of protein bar.

“Nice,” Haskins said as he rolled his head back and closed his eyes. “There went yesterday’s lunch.”

“Pytor? Would you mind keeping an eye on him?” Cash asked the Russian.

“Of course,” Pytor said.

“Gonna go talk about me out of ear shot?” Haskins asked. “Good idea…”

He drifted off into a feverish, hazy sleep. Cash stared at him a moment then nodded to the others and walked a few meters off.

“He’s not going any farther,” Cash said. “Even if we can get him on his feet, which I doubt we can at this point, he’s doesn’t have a meter more of hiking in him let alone a kilometer or more.”

“Then we carry him,” Barbara said.

“Which will slow us down,” Cash said.

“So we leave him here to die?” Barbara asked.

“Keep your voice down,” Cash said. “I don’t want him to die. That’s what I’m saying. If we try to take him with us, he will die. The stress of the journey will kill him. Staying here is his best option.”

Raff raised his hand.

“Knock it off,” Cash said. “What?”

“I’ll stay with him,” Raff said. “I can keep him covered until you all get back.”

“Get back?” Dr. Xipan laughed. “We do not know if we are going to get anywhere in order to turn around and get back! And where is here? Or there? Or back? Or forward? If Haskins stays, then perhaps we should all stay.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Raff said. “I think…”

“We leave Pytor with him,” Cash said. “The man is a trained soldier and has been surviving out in Flipside for a while.”

“Can we trust him not to kill Haskins?” Raff asked.

“Why would he?” Barbara asked.

“I don’t know,” Raff said. “Russians are bad.”

“Christ, Raff, you are losing it,” Cash said.

“But did I ever have it to begin with?” Raff asked, holding a finger to his chin. “Hmmmm…”

“And with Pytor here, it is one less mouth to feed on our little hike,” Dr. Xipan said. “We do not know when we’ll come across more food and our rations are very low. Correct, Operator Bellows?”

Raff glanced in his pack and nodded. “Yep. We’re very close to fucked.”

“We can hunt along the way,” Cash said.

“Maybe,” Barbara said and pointed at the huge dinosaurs that were waiting until they started walking again. “I think they’re keeping all the smaller dinos away. We haven’t seen anything except for some wingers here and there.”

“We can eat wingers,” Cash said and wrinkled his nose. “We can eat insects. Those ants back there were probably full of protein. We come across another nest and we pick up some road snacks.”

“Road snacks. Good one,” Raff said.

“Um, hello?” Pytor called.

They turned to face him. Pytor was standing between them and Haskins. He moved to the side.

Haskins was staring at everyone. But there was no life in that stare.

“Fuck!” Cash yelled and rushed to Haskins.

He crouched down and started CPR, but after several minutes of zero change, he fell back on his ass and held his head in his hands.

“That solves that,” Dr. Xipan said.

“Shut up,” Cash said. “Grab a shovel and dig. We bury him then get moving again.”

Barbara was the first to dig. Then Raff. Then Cash. And even Dr. Xipan.

They got Haskins’ body in the ground, covered him over, stood silent for a couple of minutes, then walked off in the direction they had been traveling for the past couple of days.

Far behind them, the herd of Diplodocus watched the humans go then started to follow them once more.

But they paused at Haskins’ grave, each one of the massively huge dinos giving the grave a sniff then a snort before stomping across the landscape once more.

***

“I’ve done everything I can,” Mike said as he and a group of techs stood around the base’s generators, grease everywhere. “They’re dead.”

The generators gave a last loud whine then there was a good amount of crunching followed by a full stop of all turbines. The assembled group stared at the dead machines until the smoke filled the underground bunker enough where breathing became an issue.

Tressa, Olivia, Mike, and the techs, stumbled up out of the generator bunker and into the morning light.

Operators were rushing across the base, fully armed and geared up.

“Shit,” Tressa said and took off after them.

Everyone else joined in the chase until they reached the main gate.

Tressa could hear a voice shouting from outside. She climbed the ladder up to the walkway and peered over at Colonel Petrov who was standing just outside the closed gate, his face turned up, a smile splitting his cruel cheeks.

“Ah, Ms. Thompson,” Petrov said and pointed at the gate. “Would you care to let us in now?”

Tressa glared at the man and studied the dozen armed operators that stood behind him. All of them were ready for a fight. Then Tressa turned to look both ways up and down the walkway, studying her own people. They looked half dead and most were coughing hard.

Of the couple dozen operators that were on hand, Tressa doubted half of them could put up a fight longer than a few minutes, even with the strategic advantage of being inside the base. Two operators fell to their knees while she stood there and thought about what she could do. One of those coughed up enough blood that Tressa had to wonder if he had any left inside his body.

The operator collapsed then rolled and fell off the walkway. The thump from below made her flinch.

“I’m not opening the gate, Colonel,” Tressa said. “You and your people can sit out there and starve.”

“Starve?” Petrov replied. “Ms. Thompson, this world provides. There is plenty of food if you know how to catch it. Ask your father. I believe he is returning from a hunting trip right now, if I am not mistaken. Perhaps his catch will be the bread we break as we start our new journey together.”

“There will be no journey, Colonel,” Tressa snapped. “I am not opening the gate.”

“You are,” Petrov said. He cupped a hand to his ear. “What is that I hear?”

He snapped his fingers and one of the Russian speed rollers fired up and sped away from the group, headed around the rear of the base.

“Follow that!” Tressa snapped at two operators.

The man and woman looked exhausted, but they nodded, climbed down from the walkway, and sprinted away, headed for the opposite side of the base.

“Colonel, whatever you have planned, you can forget it,” Tressa said. “We have the advantage here. You cannot approach the base without us seeing. And you are looking at the only way in and the only way out. Give up and go away.”

“How long will you last without power, Ms. Thompson?” Petrov asked. “Do you and your people know how to live Savageside without your generators running?”

“We will get them running again,” Tressa stated.

“How? How many of your personnel have the training and skills to get the generators running again? None. Why? Because that kind of tech fails here. It fails every time.”

Petrov turned and pointed at his rollers.

“They are dirty engines, comparably, but they work. Let us in and we will get this base operational once more. Not all of those that are sick must die, Ms. Thompson. We know how to treat them. But you must let us in so we can restore power to the base.”

Petrov’s grin spread and filled his whole face. It even reached his eyes, which was more disturbing to Tressa than if it didn’t.

“I mean, my base,” Petrov said. “It is now my base.”

Gunfire erupted from the rear of the base.

“Find out what that is!” Tressa shouted.

No one moved.

She looked down at the ground and saw Olivia staring up at her. Mike was crouched in the dirt, his head on his knees.

“Liv? See what that is,” Tressa ordered.

Olivia gave Tressa a sad nod then sprinted across the base.

A group of base personnel had gathered and stood looking up at Tressa. She counted twenty people, all of them terrified.

“Ms. Thompson?” Petrov called as the gunfire continued. “My offer is one of peace. Open the gate now and none of your people will be harmed. As I said, we have the means to help you. But if you do not open this gate, and I am forced to enter using violence, then that violence will not stop at this structure.”

Petrov slammed a fist against the gate.

“I will kill my way through the base until every single one of you is dead. That is a promise.”

The gunfire had stopped. Tressa stood there, as terrified as the people below that were looking to her for guidance. What choice did she have?

Before she could respond, the Russian roller returned, pulling up only a couple of meters from Petrov and his operators. Behind the roller, being dragged through the dirt, were the carcasses of two dinos. Tressa instantly recognized the gear used to drag the carcasses along.

“What did you do to my father?” Tressa yelled. “You want in? You had better not—”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Thompson said as he hopped out of the Russian roller. He had a hand to his left bicep, and blood was seeping through his fingers, but otherwise, he did look fine. As fine as any of the personnel from Flipside BOP could look. “Let them in, Tressa.”

“Dad…”

“Do it, Tressa. They won’t kill us. They need us as much as we need them.”

“This is true, Ms. Thompson,” Petrov said. “My people have certain skills, but so do your people. Your Michael DiCenzo will be of great use. As will you and your father as we attempt to recreate your Brain AI.”

Tressa’s eyes widened and Petrov laughed.

“Oh, you thought we only wanted the safety of your walls? No, Ms. Thompson, we want a way back to our homes. To our families.” Petrov’s smile became a sneer. “To our time. And you will help achieve that goal, yes?”

Petrov snapped his fingers and no less than four rifles were aimed at Thompson’s head.

“Or you watch your father die right here in Savageside.”

“Flipside,” Tressa yelled down.

“What does the name of this Hell matter? Will you kill your father or make the right choice so he might live a little longer?”

“They have a cure, Tressa,” Thompson shouted. “They can stop everyone from dying.”

That got Tressa’s attention. She had been wavering back and forth, but the thought of having a cure for the disease that was wiping out her people quickly tilted her thought processes in one direction.

“Tressa!” Olivia yelled from below. “I can’t find your father!”

“He’s out here,” Tressa replied. “They have him.”

“Shit…” Olivia climbed the ladder fast enough that she skipped several rungs. “What are you thinking? We can’t let them in!”

“They have a cure,” Tressa said.

Olivia sputtered then shook her head. “No. That can’t be. If they had a cure all this time…”

“I will count to ten, Ms. Thompson,” Petrov yelled. “If I reach ten, then there will be no more negotiations. No more discussion. Ten is death for your father, for you, for everyone in that base.”

“I thought you needed us!” Tressa shouted.

“Perhaps not everyone will die,” Petrov said. “But those that do survive will wish they had. One.”

“Tressa,” Olivia pleaded. “We can fight them.”

“Two. Three. Four.”

“We can’t and you know it,” Tressa said.

“Five. Six. Seven.”

“Shut the fuck up, Petrov,” Tressa snapped. “I’m opening the gate. You let my father in first, though. I want him safely in my arms so you can’t betray us.”

“Of course,” Petrov said. More finger snapping and Thompson was shoved forward until he was in front of Petrov and first at the gate. “There. Happy?”

“I will never be happy with you alive,” Tressa said.

“That could very well be true,” Petrov agreed. “Now. Open the gate.”

“Tressa…” Olivia grabbed Tressa by the shoulders. “Think.”

“I am, Liv,” Tressa said and yanked herself free of Olivia’s grip. “And there is no winning scenario here for us. You heard what…” She stopped herself. “You heard what we were told. Six years. We make whatever happened earlier happen. Look for Ivy. We have to do this.”

Olivia tried to argue, but the words wouldn’t come out of her mouth. Tressa watched the woman splutter then slump in defeat.

“Fine,” Olivia said.

“Open the gate!” Tressa ordered.

There were a couple of seconds of hesitation where Tressa wondered if she was going to have a revolt on her hands, but then the gate began to open. She rushed down the ladder and was there to embrace her father.

“Ow,” Thompson said. “I could use a little medical assistance.”

“We will make sure you are back to fighting shape,” Petrov said then shook his head. “Perhaps not fighting shape…”

Petrov shoved past the Thompsons and regarded the base.

“It is not as impressive as I thought it would be,” Petrov said and turned to regard Tressa. “But then, you have had such a difficult time these past weeks.”

“The last year hasn’t been fun, either, asshole,” Olivia said, joining Tressa and Thompson.

“Ah, you,” Petrov said. “The schoolteacher? Do you know what happens to school teachers when there is a regime change?”

“No!” Tressa yelled.

Before anyone could do a thing, Olivia was grabbed by two operators and dragged away toward the rear of the base.

“She is to be shot in the head and thrown over the back wall,” Petrov ordered, his eyes locked onto Tressa. “This will be your first lesson as to who is in charge. Whenever there is any hint of dissent, I will have that person, or persons, shot and thrown over the back wall. There the bodies will rot and be picked apart by scavengers. If any of your people need reminding about who is in charge, they will be forced to look over that wall at their friends and colleagues.”

“You son of a bitch,” Tressa said.

Olivia was struggling with the Russian operators until one of them slammed the butt of his rifle into her temple. She crumpled and was picked up, carried over the shoulder of the other operator.

“How about you give me a tour on our way to observe your friend’s execution?” Petrov said, as if he was suggesting a flavor of jam to go with a morning biscuit. “I believe it would be beneficial for you to witness this so that you know I do not give second chances.”

“I have already figured that out,” Tressa said.

“Yes, but there is nothing like a live demonstration,” Petrov said. “Not for you, but for me. I want to see the realization in your eyes when the trigger is pulled. Then I will know for certain that you understand where you and I stand.”

Petrov began walking then paused and looked back at Tressa.

“Now, Ms. Thompson,” he snarled.

“My father,” Tressa said.

“He will be tended to immediately,” Petrov said. “And I will have my people administer the cure to the disease. The good news is it can be dispersed within the water supply. As can many other substances, so do not test me today, Ms. Thompson.”

Tressa reluctantly joined him as two Russians took Thompson away.

“Lead the way,” Petrov said.

Tressa did. She walked Petrov through the entire base, showing him the mess, the barracks, the infirmary, the schoolhouse, the armory, Elvis’s pen.

Elvis…

“The dino that was with my father,” Tressa said. “What happened to him?”

“The famed Ankylosaurus?” Petrov asked then turned and spoke to one of his operators in Russian. He nodded. “Lost to the wilds. A shame. I always envied you Americans for domesticating a dinosaur. How much fun to ride such a beast into battle.”

“Elvis was an herbivore and not a killer,” Tressa said.

One of the operators spoke up, his face pinched in anger.

“That is not true,” Petrov said. “It sounds like your herbivore trampled two of my men while trying to protect your father. There is a little killer in all of us, even inside your precious pet.”

“Fuck you,” Tressa snapped.

They reached the back wall and Olivia was being held by two operators up on the walkway.

Tressa climbed up and was joined by Petrov and his people.

“I will need you to repeat after me,” Petrov said, staring Tressa directly in the eye. “Olivia Herndon…”

Petrov waited.

“What?” Tressa asked.

“You will say these words,” Petrov explained. “Olivia Herndon…”

“Olivia Herndon,” Tressa repeated.

“You have been sentenced to death…”

“You have been sentenced to…death.”

“For your defiance of our leader, Colonel Igor Petrov….”

Tressa swallowed hard.

“For your defiance of our leader, Colonel Igor Petrov,” Petrov growled.

“For your defiance of our leader, Colonel—”

“Oh, fuck this!” Olivia shouted and slammed an elbow into the chest of one operator, ripped her arm away from the second operator, and leapt over the side of the wall.

“Liv!” Tressa yelled and rushed to the side.

Olivia was down on the ground, barely moving. Blood matted her hair to the back of her head.

“Shoot her,” Petrov ordered.

The operator Olivia had elbowed leaned over the wall, took aim, and fired four shots into Olivia’s back. She went still and blood seeped out into the grass.

“There. Now you see that I will follow through,” Petrov said. “And next time, you will repeat what I tell you to repeat immediately or I shoot people at random. Do we understand each other, Ms. Thompson?”

“Yes,” Tressa said quietly.

“I could not hear you.”

“Yes! You motherfucking—!”

Petrov held up a finger and Tressa shut up.

“Yes,” she said in a loud, even voice. “But I have one thing to say.”

“Say it, please,” Petrov responded, his head tilted, expression curious.

“You play this dictator thing too heavy-handed, and I’ll slice your balls off and feed them to you,” Tressa said.

Petrov’s eyes went wide then he laughed. He laughed hard. Tears streamed down his cheeks. None of the other Russians even cracked a smile.

“I’m not joking, Colonel,” Tressa said.

“Oh… Oh, I can see that,” Petrov said, gasping for breath. “And despite my wanting to see you try, I do hope that day never comes. I will not play the dictator as long as you keep your people in line and we make progress on our single goal.”

He stepped in close and all laughter was gone.

“The goal of getting us home.”

Fifteen

It took forever for night to arrive.

Olivia lay there, her body wracked with pain and agony, her mind close to giving up, as the sun rose overhead, beating down on her for hours, then slowly set.

Once the sun was gone, and the pitch blackness of night arrived since the base’s generators were not able to power the klieg lights, Olivia began her slow, excruciating journey away from the base.

She should be dead and she was reminded of that fact every time she reached out with weak arms, grabbed a handful of grass, and pulled herself another couple of feet before having to lay still and gasp for breath. The bullet wounds in her back tore and ripped with each meter she traveled. Her body was sticky with her blood. The copper smell was thick and filled her nostrils.

But on she went. Handful of grass over handful of grass. She pulled, rested, passed out for she didn’t know how long, pulled, rested, passed out, but never stopped.

The sun crested the horizon by the time Olivia reached the edge of a copse of the trees. She could already feel her wounds festering. She could also feel the constant biting of the insects that had landed on her during her nightmare journey. They were feasting on her torn flesh, nibbling at the wounds through her shirt.

Olivia blacked out.

When she came to, the sun was down again.

Despite the tropical heat of Flipside, Olivia was shivering all over. Fever had her and she almost laughed. To die from an infection from being shot after surviving the disease that had taken Astrid was just too much irony to handle. But laughing would have taken energy she did not have.

Olivia lay there and stared at the dirt. She couldn’t even lift her head to shift away from a small rock that was digging into her cheek. At least the pain of the rock reminded her she was still breathing. The pain from her back was such a dull throb that it was almost as if she hadn’t been shot. Although, she was certain if she tried to push herself up she’d probably have a different opinion rather quick.

The night calls of nocturnal birds and other creatures filled the copse of trees around her.

Creatures flitted from branch to branch; little feet padded around her; a buzzing filled the air.

Then the pain in her back was awakened as many large pinchers started in on her wounds.

Olivia screamed.

It was barely a croak since she hadn’t had anything to drink in close to twenty-four hours.

Then the ground around her shook. It wasn’t a shake like an earthquake or a Turn, but like a small truck was driving toward her.

Olivia panicked. Even with whatever insects munching away at her back, the thought of the Russians tracking her down was the most terrifying thing that her mind could conjure. She hadn’t gone through everything she went through to get to the trees in order to be found by some assholes on patrol.

Then her mind caught up with her fear and she realized that there was no sound of a motor. The night was silent. Or as silent as a prehistoric night could be.

No, wait, it was truly silent. The birds were no longer calling to each other; the nocturnal creatures had stopped moving; even the buzzing from her back was gone and she no longer felt like she was a bug buffet.

A grunt from her right sent shivers down her spine. It was a good-sized grunt, from a good-sized dino. Olivia had been Flipside long enough to know when a big one was near. But she couldn’t turn her head to see what creature was about to snack on her.

“Do it,” she whispered. “Fucking kill me, you dino motherfucker.”

She screamed when the tongue began licking roughly at the back of her head. Or tried to scream. Again, only a croak.

She snapped her mouth shut.

A tongue was licking the back of her head. A tongue. Not teeth chomping on her skull, but a tongue doing…what?

Cleaning her head wound.

Then the tongue moved down to her back and started in there.

She broke through the croak in her throat and the scream she let loose caused a hundred night birds to take flight. The nocturnal creatures that had been waiting close by scurried off into the brush.

There was some more grunting and a soft tap on the top of her head. Olivia stopped screaming and bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, tasting blood as the licking of her back started up again.

There was no more fear. She knew what was happening.

“Good…boy,” Olivia whispered just before passing out. “Good boy, Elvis…”

In and out of unconsciousness was Olivia’s reality. At some point, she knew she was being dragged backward by her leg. At another point, it felt like she was going uphill. Then she was rolling downhill and all went dark again.

The hits kept on coming.

Olivia did not wake up with her face pressed into the dirt, her body at the bottom of a hill. No, she woke up as freezing cold water enveloped her. She gasped and water poured into her mouth, filling her lungs. It took every ounce of strength to scramble to the surface and take the deepest breath she’d ever taken in her life. A breath that expanded her ribcage and reminded her that she’d been shot four times in the back.

She would have screamed, but she was too busy puking up water. Olivia realized the water was shallow enough that she could get onto her knees and most of her torso would be above water. She straightened, puked more water, then she started screaming.

A grunt of disapproval answered her scream and Olivia focused on the large shape standing at the edge of the pool she’d been tossed into.

“Elvis,” she said. She puked some more. “Hey, buddy…”

Then she fell face first into the pool.

She awoke as Elvis was dragging her up onto the shore. It wasn’t the dragging, but the roughness of the rock that made up the pool’s edge that woke her. That roughness was digging into her back wounds, creating a warmth that she knew was fresh blood seeping out of her.

“Elvis… Stop…,” she begged.

Elvis stopped, let go of her, then licked her face over and over again.

“Stop that…too,” she said, a big dino tongue getting her right in the mouth. “Oh! Gack!”

She turned her head for one more vomit session before she managed to roll onto her hands and knees. Even the smallest flexing made the edges of her wounds tear, so Olivia stayed as still as she could. Finally, she eased herself back into the pool, able to keep her arms, shoulders, and head above water, letting the freezing chill of the pool ease some of her pain.

Several minutes later, after realizing she wasn’t going to die right that minute, Olivia swiveled her head to look at the pool. A spring. Like a thousand she’d seen when visiting Florida. A fresh water spring, bubbling up from deep below, hidden within a small oasis of trees. A small oasis that she knew no one could see from Flipside BOP’s walls.

Flipside BOP…

Olivia had no idea how long she’d been unconscious. All sense of time was lost to her.

Grunt.

“Hey, E,” Olivia said, looking back at the ground and the huge dino sitting attentively only a couple feet away. “Thank you.”

Grunt.

Her stomach growled. Elvis stood, bobbed his head up and down, then took off into the brush. After a few minutes, he returned with a mouthful of plant matter, which he promptly dropped onto Olivia’s head.

“Ow,” she said and studied the plant matter.

Some type of tuber. A potato-looking root with long, dark green leaves sprouting up. Her stomach growled again.

“I don’t know what that is,” she said to Elvis. “It may be poison, E.”

Elvis stood there and watched her for a few seconds, then turned tail and rushed off into the brush once more. He returned in a couple of minutes and gently opened his mouth to let some bright blue berries tumble out next to the tuber.

“Those could kill me too,” Olivia said.

Elvis waited again, grunted, then was gone once more.

Over and over, the pattern repeated itself until there was a cornucopia of fruits and roots surrounding where Olivia clung to the edge of the pool.

Her stomach growled and Elvis snorted. He was getting annoyed, she could tell.

“Alright,” she said finally, her hunger forcing her to face the reality that she’d have to try to eat something or she’d eventually starve to death. “Might as well get it over with.”

She dragged herself out of the pool, swatting Elvis away when he tried to clamp his beak onto her shoulder to help. It took her a while, but she finally climbed up out of the wet, and over the mound of food, to rest in the dirt.

Olivia had to rest for a good hour before she had the strength to sit up on her elbows, grab a handful of berries, say a quick prayer, and toss the berries into her salivating mouth.

“Oh, fuck me,” Olivia said as sweet nectar exploded across her tongue. “Oh, those are good.”

She ate all of the berries in three more bites before her arms were shaking too much to keep her up. She fell onto her back, her breath exploding from her lungs as fresh pain tore through her. Olivia rolled over onto her side and the pain subsided by about ten percent. That was good enough. She reached out and picked up a tuber.

Starchy and slightly sweet. The tuber wasn’t heaven like the berries, but she didn’t even think of spitting it out. Olivia finished the tuber and thought about eating the leaves, but decided not to.

Her stomach groaned. It didn’t growl, it groaned.

“Oh, no,” she said.

Olivia sat up, screamed at the pain, managed to scamper a couple feet away from the pile of food, and got her pants down to her thighs before her bowels let loose. When her body was done voiding itself, Olivia lay there for a long while, crying silently as the sun crested over the trees then began to set.

Elvis dragged her away from her mess. Her pants were pulled down to her ankles, stopped by her boots, and Olivia was instantly coated from mid back to her calves in mud and dirt, poop and leaves. She didn’t stop crying until it was night again.

The morning sun broke through the branches above and nailed her directly in the face.

“A few more minutes, Astrid,” Olivia complained. “Then I’ll get up.”

Her reality cracked her half-dream and she started crying again.

Elvis nudged her shoulder.

“Yeah, I know,” she whispered, wiping at her eyes. “I have to get up.”

Olivia didn’t know if that’s what the dino wanted or not, but she did know that she needed to get up, get cleaned off, and figure out if the future held her death or her life in its palm. She reached out and Elvis ducked his head so she could wrap her arm around his neck. As she thought he would, because he was such a damn good boy, he lifted his head, pulling Olivia to her feet.

She stood there, leaning all of her weight on Elvis, her chest rising and falling, rising and falling, her wounds tearing and ripping, tearing and ripping, until she thought maybe, just maybe, she could put one foot in front of the other.

Then she looked down at the state she was in and laughed.

She had shit, literally, dried and caked all over her legs, along with half of everything else the tiny jungle had to offer.

“Okay…”

It took nearly an hour before she could get one boot off. Another hour before she could get the other boot off. She stripped naked, screaming most of the time as she managed to tear her shirt off her body, then rested against Elvis for most of the afternoon. By the time evening came on, she was able to stumble into the bushes and use the leaves to wipe a good portion of her body clean. Or as clean as it would get.

Olivia dug her hands deep into the dirt and scrubbed and scrubbed, until she was certain she’d gotten most of the filth off.

Then, with Elvis’s help, she made it back to the pile of food. She staggered to the water’s edge and washed her hands before she went back and picked up a handful of wilted berries and ate them. Still tasted like heaven, just a little drier. She skipped the tuber and stuck with the berries.

Then her guts began to roll gain. Except that time she was able to get away from the edge of the pool and into the bushes where she relieved herself noisily, but was able to keep the mess contained.

“Berry shits,” she said to Elvis after wiping with leaves she prayed weren’t the ancestors of poison ivy.

Naked, her back still bleeding, but nowhere as bad as before, her bowels empty, but belly no longer growling, Olivia let Elvis help her walk into the spring where she floated out into the middle, her face up to the trees above. She knew being in the water was going to dirty up her only source of drinking water, but it was a risk she had to take. She also knew that springs, if they were like any back in her timeline, would naturally filter themselves as the constant churning and flow pushed the water through minuscule cracks in the rocks, using them like a filter.

That’s what she hoped, at least.

Sleep wanted to overtake her as she floated in the water, but she fought it off and managed to swim back to the edge. Elvis helped her out of the water and eased her over to a bed of branches piled against the trunk of a large tree.

“Did you make me a bed, E?” Olivia asked.

Elvis snorted and pushed his beak against her shoulder.

“Thank you,” she said and gave his neck as strong of a hug as she could manage.

That was their routine for the next few days.

Olivia would wake, Elvis would help her move about, she would eat, take a horrible shit, get cleaned up, then float in the spring for most of the day until it was time to repeat the pattern in the afternoon before she finally passed out on the soft bed of branches that Elvis was constantly adding to.

When the second week began, Olivia had probably the most comfortable bed she’d ever slept on. If it wasn’t for the pain and smell coming from her back, she would have been fairly content. Also, the constant thoughts of what was happening to her friends at the base kept a pallor over her survival.

In the middle of the second week, Olivia made a decision.

Instead of fighting off the insects that wanted to snack on the necrotic flesh around her wounds, she gave in and took the pain. She had to yell at Elvis to stop trying to shoo the bugs away. At least until she was certain they’d gotten all of the dead flesh. Four days of that routine and she finally stopped smelling the rot coming from her.

More baths in the spring, more eating the berries and tubers, and some flowers that tasted like cantaloupe, a lot less shitting herself, and as much movement as she could stand, was how she passed her time.

Weeks went by. Then months.

To Olivia’s surprise, she survived. Her back healed over, she never died from infection. However, she could feel the bullets still in there, a couple grinding against her ribs when she turned wrong. But she knew bullets rarely killed people; the trauma of getting shot or the resulting infections from what the bullets carried into the body was what killed most people.

And she’d survived both.

By her count, she was in the tiny jungle, forever camped out by the spring, for eight months, if not longer. Those first couple of weeks had been a haze and she didn’t trust her time keeping during that period, so it was all an estimation.

In the beginning, she kept expecting a patrol of Russian operators to find her. Especially when they saw that her body was gone from the base of the wall. The realization hit her that everyone must have figured one of the many Flipside scavengers had snagged her corpse in the night. There was no reason for anyone to think otherwise.

Her skin was tanned and her muscles tight. Olivia had learned to hunt for herself, even taking down some of the smaller predators that dared get too close. She fashioned spears out of branches and sharpened rocks. She fashioned some basic clothing out of the tanned hides of dinos, not because she was suddenly feeling modest, but because she was sick of the bushes with the large thorns slicing into her when she hunted.

A year went by before Olivia dared exit the safety of her little jungle oasis.

She left at night and crept her way back to Flipside BOP.

Torches rimmed the top of the wall that still surrounded the base. Olivia had to grin at the fact that even Petrov couldn’t get the generators to work again. She crouched, hidden in the long grass, and studied the guards’ patterns. They were efficient and alert at all times. No matter how long she watched, and she had to come back several nights in a row to get a true sense of the pattern, Olivia never found a gap in the base’s security.

Petrov wasn’t stupid, Olivia had to give him that. He knew there was still the chance of operators out in the field. Yes, odds were that Cash and his team, as well as Ivy and her team, were long dead, but Olivia knew better.

Brain had said to look for Ivy, so Ivy was coming back at some point.

Two weeks of surveillance and Olivia knew she was never getting inside Flipside BOP. Petrov had the place locked down tight. Even the patrols he sent out during the day were beyond disciplined. They had all angles covered as they hunted the plains for fresh meat or scavenged for wood.

The time came when Olivia had to abandon her oasis.

The Russians had stripped the landscape of the few trees that were close by and her tiny jungle would be next.

It took her a couple of days of careful work, but she erased any sign of her presence within the tiny jungle. No one was expecting her to be alive, so if they came across where she had lived and survived for over a year, they would think it was a dino nest.

Olivia liked to think she left the oasis on Easter. She didn’t know why that made her smile, but it did. An Easter escape.

She loaded up Elvis with as much food and water as she could fit onto his back without him getting testy and trying to shake it all off, gave her home one last look, then lead her friend out of the tiny jungle, headed in the opposite direction as Flipside BOP. Olivia had no idea where she was going to go, but shew knew at the very least, Ivy was out there.

“Let’s go find our friends, boy,” she said to Elvis.

He grunted and bobbed his head. Then tried to shake the supplies off his back.

“Asshole,” Olivia said with a laugh.

Sixteen

It had been exactly twenty-six months and seven days since Petrov had taken Flipside BOP. Tressa could have told anyone the hour too, if they asked. But no one asked. Everyone had learned not to talk about that day. They had learned not to talk about Petrov except in complimentary terms.

They had all learned the hard way.

“Hey,” Mike said as he his shadow darkened the doorway of Tressa’s hut. “Got a second?”

“Of course,” Tressa said, sitting on her cot. “What’s up, Mike?”

“Petrov thinks we need to try firing up the generators again,” Mike said. “Despite the fact I told him that every time we try this shit, and are wrong, we’re doing even more damage to the base’s infrastructure.”

“You want me to talk him out of it?” Tressa asked.

“No, I want you to convince him that this is it,” Mike said. “When he fully fries it all, which this attempt will do, I want you to convince him that we live by torches and firewood from here on out. It’s Little Base on the Prairie time, permanently.”

“You’re giving up?” Tressa asked. “Mike, we need to get power restored so we can be sure that…”

She trailed off, not daring to mention Brain’s name out loud.

“He’s got a plan, dude,” Mike said. “He would know what we’re going through because we told him.”

“I’m still not sure how that’s true,” Tressa said. “When we are sitting right here.”

“I’m standing,” Mike said with a smirk.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do, but it’s Flipside. None of this is supposed to be possible, yet it is. If our AI friend says something happens, then I’m going to trust that it happens.”

“Because that’s what is getting us all through each and every day,” Tressa said.

“Yep.”

“I get it.”

“Good.”

“But I’m not going to tell Petrov to stop messing with the base’s infrastructure,” Tressa said.

“Why the fuck not, dude?” Mike exclaimed then lowered his voice after a glance over his shoulder out at the rest of the base. “There is no point. Nothing electrical has worked in months. Not even his precious rollers are staying together. Two more died yesterday. Even the biodiesel engines need an alternator to run. Those alternators are giving up the ghost left and right. We’re going to be hand carts from here on out soon.”

“The point, Mike, is that the idea of getting the electrical grid up and going keeps Petrov occupied,” Tressa said. “And an occupied Petrov is a happy Petrov. Happy Petrov kills fewer people than not happy Petrov.”

“Even happy Petrov still kills people,” Mike said and shrugged. “But I get what you’re saying, dude.”

“Good. Let’s keep the man happy and occupied and if the grid goes permanently dead, then you act like there is still a shot. Keep him believing.”

“That man can spot smoke being blow up his ass a mile away, dude,” Mike said. “If he thinks I’m playing him, I’ll be dead before I see the hammer blow coming.”

Tressa winced at the mention of the hammer.

Petrov had stopped wasting ammunition on dissenters almost from the beginning. His kill weapon of choice became a small sledgehammer that he liked to carry around on his belt, so everyone was reminded of what could happen if they stepped out of line. The memories of cracking skulls sometimes woke Tressa up in the night.

“Don’t play him,” Tressa said. “Be legit. If there is even a chance of getting the power up and running, then explain that chance. Let his people think it over. They can be the ones to tell him whether or not it’s viable anymore. You’re not cheerleading, you’re simply giving your opinion because you’re a tech and techs want power restored more than anyone here on base.”

“Well, yeah, that’s true,” Mike said and shrugged again.

“I’m glad we agree,” Tressa said. She stood up and stretched. “Anything else?”

“One last thing,” Mike said. “The beer.”

“What? Again?” Tressa grumbled and grabbed her boots. “I warned him.”

“I know and you need to warn him again,” Mike said. “People will take a lot of shit, but as soon as the Russians start hogging the beer, then all bets are off. There’s going to be a riot tonight at dinner if those assholes don’t share evenly. I’m not kidding. I caught Stipple trying to hide a wrench under his mattress. He wasn’t the only one.”

“I hope you took the wrench,” Tressa said, tying her laces.

“I did. That’s how I heard about the Russians hoarding beer and only giving our folks a quarter of the agreed-upon rations,” Mike said. “And once they start hoarding beer rations, then everyone suspects them of hoarding food rations. The deal was Petrov’s people are in charge, but all supplies are split evenly.”

“I know the deal, Mike,” Tressa said. “I’ll go talk to him now.”

“Thanks,” Mike said.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Tressa said and waited for Mike to move so she could leave her hut. “He could tell me to fuck off and there isn’t a goddamn thing I can do about it.”

“That’s true, dude.”

“Where are we with everything else?” she asked as they walked away from her hut. A few people greeted them, but most walked on by as if they weren’t there. “Still good?”

“As good as can be,” Mike said, looking about to make sure they weren’t overheard. “If what he said was true, then we still have a little under four years to go. We’ll be ready.”

“It’s too bad there is no way to test it,” Tressa said.

“Tell me about it,” Mike said, a little too pointedly.

“We just have to trust that what was said is true and in four years, someone will come walking through those gates to take us home,” Tressa said.

They walked on in silence until they reached Petrov’s door. It was an impressive door. The former command hut was now the colonel’s private quarters. Mike had nearly shit a brick when that transition happened, same with Tressa, both worried that his dismantling and removal of the consoles inside would end Brain’s chances of getting them all out of their current situation.

“I’ll handle this,” Tressa said. “Go check on the others and make sure tempers aren’t about to simmer over into a bloody boil.”

“Nice imagery, dude,” Mike said and let Tressa climb the steps and knock on Petrov’s door alone.

“Come in,” a voice called out from inside.

Tressa opened the door and walked into the hut, her nose instantly assaulted by the stink of sex.

“Ms. Thompson,” Petrov greeted her from his bed. The sheets were only covering his legs and there was another shape sleeping beside him. “What a pleasure. How may I help you today?”

“Beer,” Tressa said.

Petrov frowned. “Could you add some additional words to that statement?”

“Your people are hoarding beer,” Tressa said. “Again. Remember what happened last time they tried that?”

“I was forced to kill seventeen of your people,” Petrov said. “A dark day. But they should not have tried to revolt. Especially over a beverage.”

“It’s not the beverage and you know it,” Tressa said. “Once your people feel like they can get away with hoarding beer, then they start hoarding food. And other supplies. Medical supplies. How did that work out when we had the winger attack last year?”

“Five of my people and three of your people died because we could not treat them fast enough,” Petrov said, frowning. “And I did the right thing and hammered two of my people for the infraction. Would you like me to get the hammer out again?”

“No,” Tressa said. “You keep your hammer to yourself.”

She glared at the stained sheets he was laying in. She glared harder at the silhouette under the sheets. She knew whose outlined ass that was and it infuriated her. Fucking traitor…

“I want you to reign in your people and stop them from starting another incident,” Tressa said.

“Revolt,” Petrov corrected.

“Avoidable,” Tressa countered.

Petrov opened his mouth then closed it and nodded. He gave the sheet-covered ass a hard smack.

“Get out,” he ordered.

Maggie roused herself and slid from the bed without giving Tressa even a glance. She got dressed and slipped out a back entrance to the hut.

Petrov laughed.

“You should see the rage on your face,” he said as he got up and searched for his pants.

Tressa crossed to a chair, grabbed the pants off the back, and threw them at him.

“She only does what she feels she needs to to survive, Ms. Thompson,” Petrov said. “Just like a billion women and men have throughout history. And she isn’t wrong. If she were to commit an infraction, I wouldn’t think twice before hammering her. Only because I do enjoy hammering her in this bed instead so much more.”

“You couldn’t get one of your Russian girls to fuck you?” Tressa asked as she waited impatiently for Petrov to finish dressing.

“I could, but then they wouldn’t respect me and I can’t have that,” Petrov said. “That silly Irish girl? I could care less if she respects me. In fact, Ms. Thompson, I am fairly certain she absolutely despises me. She hides it well, and is very good at what she does, but I’ve caught her staring at me with nothing but murder in her eyes when she thinks I’m sleeping.”

“She’ll never kill you,” Tressa said. “She knows what happens if you die.”

“Everyone dies,” Petrov said like he was Oprah and was handing out new cars.

“The beer?” Tressa asked.

“Let us sort that out now,” Petrov said.

***

The huge fish slid easily through the pool, its elongated jaws slightly open as it bore down on its prey.

Then the prey was yanked up out of the water and in its place a sharpened spear came down hard and fast, piercing the fish’s skull.

Olivia lifted the speared fish up out of the water, her biceps bulging and straining at the weight of a creature that was over ten feet long and had to weigh as much as she did, if not more. She braced her legs, her thighs rippling with strength, and swung the spear to the side, dropping the dead fish onto the shore of the pool before she took up her hunting stance again, making sure her shadow didn’t fall down into the water.

Asleep and completely lying on his back in the shade of some massive palm trees, Elvis snored loudly.

“You’re lucky you don’t scare the fish off,” Olivia said as she struck a second time.

Once again, her aim was true and she speared a second, even larger fish. She put her full weight into the transfer from water to land then let the spear drop from her hand and stretched.

There was still soreness and pain from the long-healed wounds in her back, but she ignored the slight discomfort of that and continued to stretch, making sure her muscles didn’t tighten up after her day’s exertion.

On the shore of the pool were the bodies of five massive fish. Olivia set to work gutting and cleaning them, the smell of which woke Elvis and forced him to retreat further into the forest of palms and ferns.

“Wuss!” Olivia called after him.

She tossed the fish guts into a large basket then took a sharpened rock and began the long, torturous task of descaling each fish. She scraped for hours until the fish skin glistened and shined in the afternoon sun and the removed fish scales covered the ground and most of her body. Then she cut the fish into steaks and strips and loaded the fresh meat into other baskets she’d made from weaving palm fronds.

“E!” she yelled and Elvis appeared back on the shore after a couple of minutes.

He snorted and started to back up, but Olivia pointed a finger at him and he stopped.

“Turn around,” she ordered.

He obeyed and let her load the baskets onto his back. Then she secured the baskets with straps made from the sinew of a few predators that thought she would be easy prey, climbed up onto Elvis’s back in front of the baskets, and gave him a hard slap on the neck.

“Take us home, boy,” she said.

Elvis grunted and walked into the jungle. A well-worn trail led away from the shore of the pool and wove around the palms and ferns. They traveled for a good hour before Elvis finally came to a stop outside a large cave set into a good-sized hill in the middle of the jungle.

Olivia had had to fight for her life to take that cave. The former occupants were not willing to give it up too easily. But she won, as she always did, and got a really nice pair of dino hide pants and several vests out of the fight. Not to mention a scar that stretched from her right hip up to just below her right breast.

Olivia whistled and a pack of meter-high raptors came zooming out of the underbrush on each side of the cave.

“How’s my babies?” she asked as she got down off Elvis’s back. “Mama brought you dinner.”

She retrieved the basket of fish guts and set it on the ground. The pack of raptors snapped and shrieked at each other as they jockeyed for position around the basket. It looked like violent chaos, but Olivia knew it was just how they were. Snappy and constantly irritated was simply their personalities. But being only a meter tall in a world where behemoths roamed the landscape, it was no surprise. The Napoleon complex existed in dinos just like it did in human beings.

Olivia unloaded the baskets with the fish meat in them and carried each just inside the cave.

“Do not let the babies get the fish, E,” she ordered Elvis before continuing farther into the cave.

Elvis turned around, faced the feeding raptors, and sat down, his bulk blocking most of the cave’s entrance.

Olivia walked a few meters then crouched and grabbed up two rocks. She struck them together and a spark blinked to life. She placed the rocks close to a stone bowl filled with grease and struck them again. The spark lit a palm wick in the middle of the grease and Olivia dropped the two rocks in order to carefully pick up the bowl.

She kept moving deeper into the cave, passing branches that veered off to her right and left. She ignored the branches and kept going deeper and deeper. After several minutes of walking, she stopped, pulled a torch down from where it was wedged into the cave wall, rolled the end in a larger bowl of grease on the cave floor, then lit the torch and put it back in the wall. She repeated this until it was light enough to work by.

Olivia returned with the small bowl of grease to the front of the cave, extinguished the flame in the bowl, and began the hard work of carrying each basket of fish to the back of the cave. Forty minutes later, she had all the baskets back there and was laying fish strips and steaks out on palm mats which she rolled up and set to the side.

Then she dug into the soft earth of the cave floor with a stone spade until she struck something. She knelt and cleared the remaining earth, revealing a thick palm mat secured to a frame of bamboo-like poles. Olivia lifted the mat and smiled down at the open pit.

“Gonna have some smoked fish for weeks now,” she said as she gathered wood from a pile off to the side of the space, arranged the wood in the pit, and lit it ablaze. “Yum, fucking yum.”

It took an hour for the wood to burn down to coals. Olivia arranged the coals in a way that had taken a lot of trial and error to figure out then placed the wrapped fish down into the pit, careful that each bundle wasn’t too close to a pile of coals. She put the mat back over it all then replaced the dirt over the mat.

“Now we nap,” she said.

She returned to the front of the cave, stepped out past a sleeping Elvis, and watched the raptors bicker over who got to lick the guts basket clean. She whistled and they all perked up, instantly forgetting about the basket.

“Sleep time,” she said and angled her body to the side.

The raptors scrambled inside the cave and were lost in the shadows in seconds.

“E? You coming?” Olivia asked.

Elvis opened his eyes, lifted his head, snorted, then lowered his head again and closed his eyes.

“Yeah, well, when you’re as big as you are, I guess sleeping outside is always an option,” Olivia said. “I’m going to nap for a couple hours then check on the fish.”

Elvis was already snoring.

Olivia laughed and walked back into the cave. This time, she took the first branch she came to. She didn’t light a grease bowl, letting her hand trail along the branch’s wall until she felt a small depression. There she crouched, reached out into the almost pitch darkness, felt the softness of her mattress that she’d made out of dried ferns and dino feathers, curled herself into a ball, and let well-earned sleep take her.

Almost exactly two hours on the dot, a wet nose pressed against her cheek, one of the raptors telling her that the fish smelled done. She loved how smart the little killers were.

Olivia roused herself. Her dino leathers were stiff from sweat and she wished she could strip off, but she had a long night of carefully smoking the fish ahead of her, so she stayed dressed. Nothing was worse than a coal popping when some fish fat hit it and that coal ending up in a place on her body where she did not want a hot coal to be. So the dino pants and dino vest stayed put.

She was only half awake and muscle memory took her to the back of the cave. A couple of the torches had sputtered out, so she replaced those, lit them, then dug the dirt off the mat, opened the pit, and checked her day’s catch.

Half the bundles were done enough to last a few days before turning, so she pulled those out and set them aside to cool. They needed to fully cool before she stacked them in what she called her “fridge” which was really an alcove that stayed cooler than the rest of the cave. If she didn’t let the bundles fully cool, then they’d condensate and the fish would be ruined by day two instead of lasting most of the week.

Olivia double-checked the remaining bundles, rearranged the coals, and covered it all over once again.

She made her way back to her sleeping branch and passed out almost as soon as her head hit the mattress.

Seventeen

Two more sleep cycles and the fish was done.

Olivia had some cooked fish that she’d need to eat right away, some that would last a little longer, and some that was so dried out that it was really only good for making a broth with. But Olivia had learned the hard way not to plan for every contingency. Sometimes fish broth was all that nature provided for her and her babies, other than whatever roughage she could gather from the jungle. But even after six years of eating the berries and tubers, the leaves and nuts, her body preferred the fish and the dino meat. The plant life was meant for digestive systems like Elvis’s, not for long-term human consumption.

Flipside was not a place for vegetarians.

Six years…

Olivia mumbled something about how that was insane, it couldn’t have been that long, then turned into a branch she hadn’t been in since the previous morning. She lit a bowl and stared at the hash marks on the walls. Six years’ worth of hash marks. It was impossible to believe.

She’d stopped going to check on Flipside BOP two years ago. There was no point to torture herself anymore. The base was thriving, in a primitive way, and if she returned, she knew she would only stir up a past that could possibly get the people she still cared for killed. Olivia had no idea what the politics of Flipside BOP were, but she knew that all politics were fragile.

Olivia picked up a rock and made one more hash mark then put out the flame in the bowl and left the branch.

She walked to her sleeping branch and paused. Elvis was sitting in the mouth of the cave, his head swaying back and forth, his nostrils wide open. Surrounding him were the babies, all standing on their hind legs, noses up in the air, heads swaying back and forth in imitation of Elvis.

One of the babies chirped and Elvis grunted a reply. The baby chirped again and Elvis snorted. Then the Ankylosaurus stood up and raced away from the cave, his huge body crashing through the foliage.

The babies’ heads swiveled around in unison and stared directly at Olivia.

“What are you standing there for?” she asked and made a waving gesture. “Go make sure your brother doesn’t hurt himself with whatever he’s decided to chase tonight.”

None of the little raptors moved. They looked out at the jungle then back at Olivia. One of them trilled a funny little bark of a noise and Olivia stiffened.

Predators. Big and dangerous. Must be or the raptors would have gone with Elvis. E wasn’t stupid, but the raptors were Olivia’s brilliant little babies. If they weren’t following the big dino, then that meant they smelled danger on the air.

“Okay then,” Olivia said and ran back into the cave.

She fetched her spear, a sling, and a quiver of short arrows. She strapped the quiver to her back, tied the sling to her belt, and hefted the spear in her hand as she rejoined the raptors at the mouth of the cave. The moon was full and bright and shone down from above, illuminating the edge of the jungle only a couple meters away.

“Let’s go make sure he doesn’t get himself killed,” she said. “And maybe we’ll get some T-rex steaks for our trouble.”

She whistled and the raptors took off into the bush, following Elvis’s route perfectly. Olivia ran behind them, her feet naturally stepping over the tree roots and ruts in the ground she knew by heart.

On they ran, a couple of the raptors staying back to make sure Olivia was keeping up. They had gone nearly as far as the shore of the fishing pool before Olivia heard it.

Elvis was trumpeting.

Not snorting, not grunting, and not baying in pain, but trumpeting. And for Elvis, trumpeting was his happy noise.

Olivia’s ears locked onto the sound and she changed course, skirting the jungle’s edge as it in turn skirted the fishing pool. She ran until Elvis’s voice was close enough that she knew she’d come out on him if she broke through the next clump of ferns.

The raptors crowded around her legs, all of then shaking and glancing from her to where Elvis’s sounds were coming from. Olivia looked down at her babies and frowned. They were afraid. Which wasn’t an emotion she saw from them often. Not even when a pack of teeth were charging directly at them.

Then the smell hit her. The stink of people. But it wasn’t the stink of Flipside BOP.

It was the stink of home.

Plastic and burning trash. Hot asphalt and exhaust. Gunpowder and sweat. Old Spice?

Olivia made a clicking noise with her tongue and the raptors ducked low and filtered off away from her, lost in the jungle’s always-present shadows. Even with the moon shining above, Olivia knew her babies wouldn’t be spotted until she wanted them to be.

She hefted her spear and slowly moved one of the ferns to the side so she could get a better view.

Then she dropped the spear and walked out of the cover like a zombie, her eyes misting over with tears as something inside her chest exploded back to life.

“Hey, Liv,” Cash said, standing there with a rifle in one hand and his other hand stroking Elvis’s beak.

The big dino was basically purring.

“Tre? How…?” she stared at him.

Then her eyes moved to the squad of operators behind him. She didn’t know the men and women that were staring at the jungle like it was going to eat them at any second. Eat them at any second…

“Do not move!” she exclaimed. “Lower your weapons and whatever happens next, you do not fire, understood?”

Cash nodded. “Do as she says.”

Rifles were lowered and suspicious eyes were cast toward Olivia.

“I like the look,” Cash said with a smirk. “Sorry it took us so long to get back Flipside.”

“Shush,” Olivia said. “Remember, do not shoot. I fucking mean it.”

“No shooting,” Cash said.

Olivia whistled. Her babies appeared on all sides of the squad in the blink of an eye. Olivia clicked her tongue, snapped her fingers, and the raptors sprinted to stand behind her.

“Holy fucking shit…” Cash said, his jaw dropping. “Okay, we heard about this, but to see it with my own eyes? No wonder you are who you are.”

“What?” Olivia said. “None of that makes any sense.”

“It will,” Cash said. “But we don’t have time to explain. We need to get you to Flipside BOP ASAP. We only have a few hours before your rendezvous.”

“What?”

“Just follow us,” Cash said. “We have rollers a click to the east. If we hurry, we can get you to where we need to get you before the sun comes up.”

Olivia rushed forward and grabbed Cash’s arm so fast that rifles were raised in alarm. The raptors bunched their legs to pounce.

“No!” Olivia ordered. “Stand down!”

“You’re talking to the dinos, right?” Cash asked. “Not us.”

“Both,” Olivia said, letting go of Cash. “Everyone stand down.”

She clicked her tongue and the raptors backed off, but their bodies remained tensed and at the ready. The same could be said for the operators.

“Tre, tell you people to lower their weapons,” Olivia said. “The raptors are trained, but they love their mama. If they feel your threat is greater than my commands, they will strike. You do not want to be on the wrong side of that strike.”

“Lower your weapons,” Cash said, smiling. The operators did. “Just for the record, Liv, these people have fought off packs of teeth way bigger than your little raptors.”

“Were those packs of teeth trained by a human being and taught attack strategies and offensive formations?” Olivia asked, her eyes locked onto Cash’s.

“Um, no,” Cash admitted. “Offensive formations? You play football with the little guys?”

At the mention of football, Elvis snorted and hunkered down close to the ground. The raptors moved behind him and half climbed onto his back while the other half used Elvis’s bulk as cover.

“Block and tackle,” Olivia said.

“Son of a bitch,” Cash said. “That is so cool. I wish Raff was here to see this.”

“Wait, is Raff…?”

“No, no, he’s cool. I mean, he’s Raff, so he has that against him, but he’s not dead.”

“Sir?” one of the operators said.

“Right. Sorry,” Cash responded. “Come on, Liv. We have to go now.”

“You have room for Elvis and the babies?” Olivia asked.

“Uh, no,” Cash said. “But they’ll be fine. You taught them how to hunt and they have a shelter to live in, right? Your cave? You just stocked it with fish?”

“How the fuck can you know that?” Olivia asked.

“You told me,” Cash said. “And I’ll explain on the way. Tell Elvis to go home and for your…babies? Your babies to follow him.”

Olivia hesitated and the operators grew nervous and impatient.

“E? Take the babies home,” Olivia ordered. Elvis grunted. “Babies? You listen to Elvis. You understand me? Brother E is in charge. Stay close to the cave. Eat the fish first then hunt when you need to. Do not eat the yellow birds! All of you got sick last time and I do not want to come home to baby shit and puke everywhere.”

Olivia sniffed loudly, wiped at her eyes then faced Cash.

“I am coming back here, right?” she asked.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Cash said. “We haven’t gotten to that time yet. But you do come with me now, so let’s get moving.”

“Be good,” Olivia said to the raptors and Elvis.

Then she turned and followed Cash and the operators as they started jogging toward the east.

***

“What the fuck is that?” Cosio asked as she staggered forward, her legs almost giving out from yet another night-long march.

The sun was coming up where they were, but not coming up where they were going. It was as if the landscape was split in two, one containing half a dawn, one containing half still night.

“Hold up,” Ivy ordered. “Is that… Is that a shimmer?”

“Holy shit,” Blumhouse said. “We’ve reached the edge of a bubble! We’re there!”

“Except we have no idea where there is,” Nochez said.

“It’s better than fucking here, that’s for sure,” Morgan said.

“Maybe,” Ivy responded. “See that? We camp under that outcropping and get a couple hours sleep. Then we approach the shimmer and see if it really is the edge of a bubble.”

“Boss, the shimmer could leave if we sleep,” DeLuca said. “We should get through now and sleep on the other side.”

“But we have no idea what is on the other side,” Nochez said.

“Fine. We approach the shimmer and take a look,” Ivy said. “If it looks safe, we cross over and rack out there. If it looks sketchy, then we backtrack to the outcropping and rack out here for a few hours so that we can assess our situation with fresher brains. I do not want to rush from the frying pan and into the fucking fire.”

“Sounds good, boss,” Cosio said. Everyone agreed.

They continued their march onward.

A full week of walking had taken its toll on everyone. Feet were sore, legs were exhausted, bellies were grumbling for more than protein bars, and tempers were fraying. Ivy had spent more time keeping the operators from snapping at each other than she had keeping the dinos from eating everyone.

She was ready to get back to Flipside BOP and just sleep in a dark hut for a month straight.

They walked on. And on. And on.

“A little farther than we thought it was going to be,” Morgan said.

“We keep going,” Ivy responded, determined to make it to Flipside BOP.

Even in the short time since first seeing the shimmer to now, she’d convinced herself they were going home. Or as much as Flipside BOP could be home. She was not giving up.

Then there it was. The shimmer. Directly in front of them.

Blumhouse reached out and his hand went through. He laughed as his arm up to the elbow was plunged into nighttime darkness while the rest of him was illuminated by the early morning sun.

“Boss?” Cosio said, her voice soft and shaky. “Two o’clock. About four clicks out. Is that…? Is that Flipside BOP?”

“Scopes,” Ivy said.

Everyone put their rifles to their shoulders and sighted through the scopes. The quiet exclamations were varied, but all held the exact same sentiment.

“What the fuck are we looking at?” Blumhouse voiced.

“They lost power,” Ivy said. “Torches ringing the wall for as far as I can see.”

“There’s more than that, boss,” DeLuca said. “Look at the changes to the wall. The fortifications they’ve made to the top. It doesn’t look like Flipside BOP anymore. It looks like a—”

“Fortress,” Ivy said. “A motherfucking medieval fortress.”

There were murmurs of agreement.

“Move out,” Ivy ordered.

“Boss?” Cosio asked.

“We need to get to the other side of this shimmer and into darkness,” Ivy said. “If there are eyes on us right now, then they can see us plain as day because we are standing in daylight. It’s night for them, but not for us.”

“Shit,” was the general sentiment.

The team hustled across the shimmering border of the time bubble and stepped into the night.

They marched down a slight decline for a good hundred meters before Ivy brought them to a stop. Scopes were up once more and dialed in on the guards on top of the wall. Ivy couldn’t tell if they’d been spotted or not, but there was certainly activity.

She glanced back over her shoulder and could just make out the line of weird dinos, their constant companions, waiting in the other bubble, none daring to get closer.

A low whistle caught Ivy’s attention and she turned her head back to the night. She thought it was a bird at first then realized it was too deliberate. And very close by.

“I hear that too,” Cosio mumbled without taking her rifle away from her shoulder. “A patrol? Hiding in the grass?”

“How about an old friend hiding in the grass,” Olivia said.

It took all of Ivy’s training not to jump.

“Don’t move, keep looking at the base,” Olivia said from her hiding spot down in the tall grass. She was only a couple meters away. Any closer and Ivy’s team would have stepped right on her. “Is this everyone?”

“Yes,” Ivy said. “What’s going on, Liv?”

“How long has it been since you left the base?” Olivia asked.

“What?” Ivy replied. “What kind of question is that?”

“How long, Ivy?”

“Uh, two weeks?”

There were some grumblings about the exact amount of days from the rest of the team, but everyone agreed it was about two weeks.

“Try six years,” Olivia said.

“Funny, Liv,” Ivy said and almost lowered her rifle.

“Do not stop looking through that scope,” Olivia snapped. “I’m not here. You’re talking to your team. And I’m not being funny. It has been six years since you left us. Trust me, I’ve counted all the days.”

“What the fuck is going on, Liv?” Ivy asked.

“Cash will explain it all to you later,” Olivia said. “Right now, you have to listen to me very carefully. You are going to walk down there, right up to the main gate, and you are going to be taken prisoner. You will let this happen. If you fight, you will die. All of you. Understood?”

“Not even close to understood,” Ivy said.

“Six years ago, Colonel Petrov took the base,” Olivia said. “I got away. Took four rounds to my back to do it, but I got away. Still have the bullets floating around in there, if you ever need proof.”

“No, that’s not the proof I need,” Ivy said. “Proof of your sanity would be nice, though.”

“I’m not crazy. You’ll see when you get to the main gate,” Olivia continued. “Let them take you. Once inside, and unarmed, then be brave. Don’t do anything that will get you shot, just be the focus so all eyes stay on the gate area.”

“What’s happening on the opposite side of the base?” Ivy asked.

“Cash and his squad will be coming in that way,” Olivia said.

“Squad? He has a squad? Is this some guerrilla shit?” Ivy asked. “Have they been out training for six years?”

“No, they never came back, either,” Olivia said. “He’ll explain. I barely understand what he’s talking about.”

“Timelines,” Nochez said. “Different timelines in the different bubbles.”

“Something like that,” Olivia responded. “But it’s way more complicated. Anyway, the whole point of me telling you this is they need that gate to open and they need everyone focused on that gate for this to work.”

“For what to fucking work?” Ivy snapped.

“Retaking the base,” Olivia said. “And connecting Brain to the future. Connecting himself to himself Topside.”

“Sorry I asked,” Ivy said. “The Russians aren’t going to shoot us?”

“That I don’t know, for sure,” Olivia said. “Really, I don’t know jack shit anymore. From what Cash said, this is all happening real time now. No more hints from future me.”

“From future you? Never mind.” Ivy sighed. “When do we go?”

“Now,” Olivia said. “And from what Cash says, a lot has changed. Trust no one until the base is secured by Cash’s squad. After that, it’s time for reunions. But, be warned, our people have been through hell. These are not the same people you left two weeks ago. These are traumatized survivors that are six years older. Trust me. There’s a reason I’ve been hiding in a cave with Elvis and my babies for six years.”

All rifles lowered and heads turned to look at her.

“What the fuck?” Olivia snapped. “Fucking focus!”

One by one the rifles were raised again and Ivy’s team stared at the base. There was for sure extra activity happening.

“We better hurry,” Ivy said. “If we need to be at that gate, then we have to hustle or they’re going to come out to us.”

“Go,” Olivia said. “Go now!”

Ivy led her team down the slight decline and across the plains that surrounded Flipside BOP. She had to force herself not to look back over her shoulder to try to see Olivia. Her eyes stayed focused on the base and the guards up on the wall that had for sure noticed them.

In minutes, they were almost to the front gate when a voice rang out, “Do not move! Drop your weapons, step away from them and put your hands behind your heads! The first to move is the first to die!”

“That’s a Russian accent,” Cosio said. “Olivia was right.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Ivy said. “It’s not her being right about the Russians that I’m worried about. It’s her being right that Cash has this all under control. He fucking better.”

Ivy’s team complied and weapons were dropped. They put their hands behind their heads and did not move after that.”

“Single-file line!” the voice ordered. “Walk to the gate and wait there for instructions! Move other than that and you will be shot!”

Ivy’s team complied and the waiting for what was going to happen began.

***

The rollers were hidden as well as they could be. If any inquisitive Russian decided to have a good, long look through a pair of binoculars, then they’d probably notice a couple of weird humps of grass out in the plains. But Cash was fairly certain that wouldn’t happen.

He hoped it wouldn’t, at least. They were moving into completely uncharted territory for the first time in a long while. No future hints from future friends to help them achieve their goals. It was good old do or die.

“There she is,” an operator said and Cash looked at where the woman was pointing.

Olivia was crouch-walking through the grass, headed straight for them.

“My turn to go,” Cash said. “You know when to move?”

“Yes, sir,” the operator said.

“Then it’s your call,” Cash said. “I’ll join you at the base as soon as I’m done with Olivia.”

“Good luck, sir,” the operator said. “If we’re wrong about the bubble—”

“We aren’t,” Cash said. “Good luck. Stay alive.”

“Copy that, sir,” the operator said as Cash got out of the roller, crawled along under the camouflage mesh that lay over the vehicles.

Cash waited for Olivia to reach him then he gestured for her to follow.

They both crouched their way back up over a small hill and down the other side. Once out of Flipside BOP’s line of sight, Olivia stood up and so did Cash.

“Where are we going?” Olivia asked, glancing back over her shoulder.

“I’m taking you where you need to go,” Cash said. The tone in his voice made Olivia give him a sideways look. “Sorry. It’s not going to be fun for you. Not at all.”

Cash handed her his rifle, his pack, and the spare magazines from his belt.

“What is this for?” Olivia asked. She didn’t argue, and took the items, but she gave Cash a look of confusion that bordered on suspicion. “Tre? Where am I going?”

“There’s a comms unit in the front pocket of the pack,” Cash said. “You know what? Hold on.”

They stopped and he grabbed the unit, holding the small ear piece out to Olivia.

“Put this in. When you get to the other side, you may not have time, so best you do it now,” Cash said. “In fact, I pretty much know you won’t have time. Rifle up and at the ready. Head for the diner. Once you are close enough, either Brain or Lakshmi will contact you. Could be a random operator, but I doubt it. Brain seems to know you’re coming.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Olivia said. “The diner? You mean the diner I used to work at?”

“Yes,” Cash said. “You’ll understand once you’re over the other side.”

“Tre…”

“Trust me. Please.”

“I do trust you. I’m just fucking confused.”

“Welcome to the new reality. I think Brain is the only one of us not confused and he seems out of his AI mind half the time. You’ll see.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it’s true. And it’s the only answer I have for you.”

They crested one more small hill and Olivia nearly dropped the rifle. Half a kilometer away was the border of a shimmering bubble. Inside was a landscape made of fire and lava and nightmares. Inside the nightmare were landmarks that anyone that had spent time in the small town of Fossil Park would recognize.

“Is that my old apartment complex?” Olivia asked. “I thought it had all been chopped to bits.”

“It was. Then reassembled. Then chopped again. Until Brain got back Topside and stabilized things,” Cash said.

“You call that stabilized?” Olivia snapped as she watched a flock of giant wingers circle over what had once been her home. “That is not stable, Tre.”

“Rifle up and at the ready,” Cash said and patted the weapon.

Olivia complied and put the rifle to her shoulder.

“When you cross over, the bubble will collapse,” he said. “Keep going. Head for the diner. Kill anything that goes after you. Do whatever Brain or Lakshmi tell you to do. Never stop moving. That’s how you survive.”

“How do you know?” Olivia asked.

“Because you told me,” Cash said. “You told me how you survived.”

“I—what…? Fuck you,” Olivia said.

“You’ll see,” Cash said and laughed. “Sorry. It does get annoying.”

Cash squeezed her shoulder.

“I’ll see you in a couple years or so,” Cash said. “But it won’t be me. It’ll be earlier me. You’ll get to say you’ll see to me over and over, if that makes you feel better.”

“It doesn’t,” Olivia said.

“I know.” Cash stopped squeezing her shoulder and hugged her. Then let her go and gave her a shove. “Move out. Now.” He chuckled. “That’s the last time I ever get to order you around.”

Olivia gave him a hard look then nodded. She walked off down the hill to the border of the time bubble.

Cash stood and watched her go. He watched her hesitate at the edge. Then he watched her stiffen and step inside the bubble.

Just as had been predicted, the bubble disappeared, leaving a clear view of Flipside all the way to the horizon. No more nightmarish landscape. Not that Flipside wasn’t a nightmare in of itself.

Cash backtracked to the waiting rollers. Except for a driver and gunner, the entire squad was gone. Cash hopped into one of the rollers and nodded at Flipside BOP.

“Wait for the signal. Then we head straight for the gates and do not stop until we are inside that base and it is ours once again,” Cash ordered. Then he activated comms. “How we looking?”

“At the wall now, sir,” a voice replied. “We weren’t spotted. Everyone inside is too shocked to see a long-lost team reappear.”

“Yeah? Well wait until they fucking see us,” Cash said. “Good luck, everyone. Shoot true and shoot to kill.”

Eighteen

Ivy and her team were marched inside the main gate, which was closed immediately behind them. The guards took them about twenty meters in before they were ordered to stop and to get on their knees, hands still behind their heads.

No one on Ivy’s team said a word even when they were asked questions by the guard. It was several minutes before two figures, flanked by guards, walked across the base and up to Ivy’s team.

“Ms. Thompson?” Petrov asked. His face was grey and gaunt, but there was still steel in his eyes.

Tressa, on the other hand, looked hollowed out. She looked like a ghost of the woman she had once been. Ivy almost gasped when she looked up into the face of her former sister-in-law.

“Operator Ellison,” Tressa said robotically. “Operator Morgan. Operator DeLuca. Operator Blumhouse. Operator Cosio. And Operator Nochez.”

Petrov snapped his fingers and a guard handed him a clipboard.

“Nochez is not on this list,” Petrov said.

“She was part of Operator Lewis’ team,” Tressa replied. “They were who Operator Ellison’s team were looking for.”

“Interesting,” Petrov said.

He gave the clipboard back to the guard and moved in close to Ivy, crouching down so they were almost eye to eye. “You are looking well, Operator Ellison.”

Again, he snapped his fingers and a different guard ran up with Ivy’s rifle. She gave it to Petrov, who turned it over and over in his hands.

“Your rifle is looking well, too. And despite the layers of dust and grime on your clothes, they are in good order. Better than clothes that have spent six years out in the field should look.”

Petrov stood up, checked the chamber of the rifle, then put the butt of the weapon to his shoulder before putting the barrel to a spot between Ivy’s eyes.

“I would like to know where you have been and why you look so well fed,” Petrov said. “Is there another base out there we do not know of? How did you get here? On foot? Surely not. Where did you hide your rollers? The paperwork said you left in two rollers. Where are they? Who else is out there?”

“I have no fucking idea what you are talking about,” Ivy said. “I really have no idea what is going on at all. We left this base two weeks ago. We ran into trouble, our equipment malfunctioned, as it always does out in Flipside, then we hiked back here on our feet. There are no rollers out there. There is no other base. We thought we were coming home.” Ivy shifted her eyes to the side. “But this isn’t the home we left and I don’t know you. How about you tell us what is going on?”

“Two weeks?” Tressa asked. “It’s been six years, Ivy…”

“Not for us,” Ivy said. “We walked out of a time bubble this morning. Or it was morning there. Not night like here.”

“Walked out of a time bubble,” Petrov said. “A time bubble where you only left this base two weeks ago.” They were statements, not questions. “Mr. DiCenzo was right about the quantum chaos. It is too bad he isn’t here to appreciate this news.”

“Not here? What happened to Mike?” Ivy asked.

“No questions,” Petrov said, wagging a finger at Ivy, the rifle still pressed to her head. “I don’t quite believe you yet. How can you convince me that what you are saying is true? What happened to Operator Lewis’s team?”

“Dead,” Ivy said. “Some disease. We never caught it, thankfully. Nochez here survived. She must have an immunity.”

“Ah, she is lucky,” Petrov said. “The disease was a nasty thing to live through. Most of the people in this base suffered briefly then got better. Some of us never suffered at all, immune like Operator Nochez. But, that does not answer my question. How can you convince me that you are telling me the truth?”

“I can’t,” Ivy said. “We left two weeks ago and now we’re back. You say we’ve been gone six years. I cannot think of a way to convince you of the truth.”

Petrov waited for a few seconds then lowered the rifle and held it out. The same guard retrieved it and retreated behind Ivy and her team. Petrov sighed.

“We will double our patrols,” Petrov said. “Maybe go look for this time bubble of yours.”

“Sir, there is a strange light on the horizon,” a guard said. “It does look like morning to the west.”

“Morning is in the east, idiot,” Petrov said.

“I can take you there,” Ivy said. “Shackle me and I’ll take you there.”

“You think I will fall for a trick like that?” Petrov laughed. “No. I will send out a patrol to confirm. If it is true, then you and your team will live and become productive members of this base.”

Petrov clapped a hand on Tressa’s shoulder and she gave a full body flinch.

“Just like Ms. Thompson here has become a valuable member of this base. Same with everyone that wanted to continue living and wants to keep living to see what tomorrow brings. Hopefully, a way back to our—”

There was a shout from the opposite side of the base. Then quiet.

Petrov sneered.

“Ah, so you are simply the distraction?” Petrov shook his head and held his hand out once more. The rifle was returned to him. “Did you know you were also going to be the sacrifice? How many are with you?”

“Honestly?” Ivy said. “I don’t know.”

Then she moved, twisting her legs out from under her to strike Petrov in the shins. Her team moved too and gunfire erupted from everywhere. Not just from their area, but from everywhere. Shots rained down from the wall’s walkway.

***

“That’s the signal!” Cash shouted. “Go, go, go!”

The rollers tore free of their camouflage as they raced toward Flipside BOP. They screamed around the wall until they were parallel with the main gate. The gunners on top of the rollers didn’t fire .50 caliber machine guns, they fired RPGs. The rockets sped toward the gates, connecting on target and blowing them off their huge hinges.

The drivers whipped the rollers around as the gunners then switched to the .50 caliber machine guns mounted to the tops of the vehicles. None of them aimed up at the tops of the wall. They knew the guards up there had already been taken out by the rest of the squad. A squad that had silently scaled the rear wall and killed each guard one by one until they had the positions they needed to execute the mission.

Cash couldn’t help but gasp as his roller entered through the broken gates. What he saw was not the same base that he had left over a year ago. Over a year ago to him, at least. He knew it was going to be hard to explain to Tressa and the rest once he had them secure. But unlike with Olivia, he would try. No “you’ll see” speeches for them.

They needed to know what the stakes were and that they had to get things up and running fast for any of them to survive.

***

Olivia was Topside for three seconds before she was running and gunning her way to cover. The wingers above spotted her right away and swooped down for an easy meal.

Olivia did not make it easy for them.

The first winger to reach her lost a good portion of its chest. It nearly crashed directly on top of Olivia, but she managed to dive inside the broken doorway of one of the old apartments. Not that it made much difference since the apartment’s four walls had been reduced to two walls and the roof was wide open for the remaining wingers to land and screech down at her as they fought with each other over who would get first bite.

Olivia ended that debate with five headshots. Having learned to aim a sling perfectly over the past few years, firing a rifle was like lobbing softballs at the beasts.

Of course, dead wingers meant falling wingers and Olivia saw her mistake instantly.

She scrambled back out of the doorway and crawled up over the first dead winger’s body as the six inside fell into the open apartment, crushing the last remnants of furniture and cracking the flooring where Olivia had been only a second before.

Olivia was back up on her feet and turning in a circle to get her bearings, the rifle at her shoulder, her finger on the trigger. Then she remembered to reload and ejected the spent magazine while popping in a fresh one in, all in one fluid motion. Way easier than loading a short arrow into a sling, for sure.

“If I’m here, then the diner is a few blocks that way,” Olivia said, making her way across the parking lot of the apartment complex.

A parking lot that was nothing but buckled and cracked pavement with steam rising up through many of the cracks. It truly was a post-apocalyptic landscape she’d found herself in. Olivia had to trust her sense of direction. She left the parking lot and stuck to the side of the street that was just as destroyed as everything else.

No more wingers were in the sky. Well, none that were close enough for her to worry about. But Olivia did hear the distinct sounds of teeth calling back and forth to each other as they coordinated their attack by triangulating her location. She didn’t recognize the species, but she did recognize the coordination tactics and knew close to where the first attack would come from.

Olivia sidestepped into a broken storefront and crouched down near what may have once been a display for potato chips. It was hard to tell considering most of the interior of the store was filled with hardened lava.

“There you are,” she said to herself as the first predator appeared from out of the shadows across the street. Close to three meters tall, the predator was a good-sized raptor. She had no clue the species, but she had called them “nellies” back home.

Back home…

Olivia thought that was a funny way to think of it.

She’d called the predators nellies because they were so negative—“negative nellies”—always arguing with each other as they went in for the kill. The things were so homicidal that each one wanted to be the member of the pack that made the first kill.

Olivia did not fire. She listened and waited.

A dino call echoed from somewhere behind her. Luckily, the store had four walls still. Or the part she was in did. It sounded like the call from behind her was coming from what had probably been the stockroom.

Olivia grinned as she waited.

She heard the crunching of the predator’s claws on the cold lava behind her. The raptor saw her, she knew it. Then the crunching continued, but grew quieter as the raptor retreated. A second later, the call came again, a slightly different tone to the sound, and Olivia knew the predator had just alerted its pack to her location.

Good. They were coming to her.

Olivia held the rifle in one hand despite it being a .338 with quite a kick. She had no doubt she could handle the weapon. In the other hand, she pulled a fresh magazine from her belt, keeping it at the ready for when she needed it.

And she did need it.

The pack of raptors struck all at the same time.

Olivia was up on her feet and turning in a circle, her finger squeezing the trigger over and over until the rifle clicked empty. She ejected the empty and slapped home a new one and continued to fire until there was no more movement around her.

Then she stopped firing, ejected that magazine, and slapped in yet another fresh one before she walked over to a struggling raptor, put the barrel of the rifle to its head, and pulled the trigger.

“Well, hello Olivia,” Brain’s voice suddenly erupted in Olivia’s ear. “Sounds like you are back. Are you injured?”

“Turn the volume down,” Olivia said, wincing. “I’m already half deaf from this fucking rifle.”

“Sorry about that,” Brain said. “Is that better?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. I am tracking you via your comms unit. From what I can see, you have open ground between your location and the diner. If you would care to join us, that would be wonderful.”

“Is Lakshmi there?”

“She is.”

“I can tell. You sound like her.”

“Hey, Olivia,” Lakshmi said, hopping into the conversation. “It will be good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too,” Olivia said. “I almost slapped Cash across the face every time he said you’ll see when I asked him what was going on. I’m hoping you’ll have some answers.”

“I will not, but Brain will,” Lakshmi said, sounding tired. “He understands the different time streams and is in connection with his multiple quantum selves. I’m human and in this one time stream only, so I am as in the dark as you are. I believe we will be learning together.”

“Uh, Olivia? You will want to hurry,” Brain interrupted. “You have four giganotosaurs incoming.”

“What are incoming? I don’t know that species,” Olivia said. “But, from the name, I assume they are big.”

“They are not big, they are massive,” Brain said. “You’ll want to run. Once you reach the diner, you’ll be safe.”

“I’ll be safe from four massive teeth inside the diner?” Olivia asked as she took off running down the street.

“We have made improvements,” Lakshmi said. “They were necessary improvements.”

Olivia ran and ran then skidded to a halt when she saw the building that she used to work in.

It was no diner anymore. It was simply the armored entrance to a bunker.

Four turreted belt guns whirred to life as she approached, but they were not aimed at her.

A small door set into the two larger doors of the bunker entrance opened and Lakshmi waved at her.

“In. Now,” Lakshmi said.

Olivia didn’t argue and sprinted inside the bunker just as the belt guns opened fire.

“Look at that outfit,” Lakshmi said after closing the smaller door and pulling Olivia out of the way.

A bulkhead lowered from above then one from each side locked into place as well, sealing them inside and blocking any chance of anything outside getting to them.

“I bet you’d love a shower,” Lakshmi said.

“More than anything else in the world,” Olivia said and followed as Lakshmi led her down a dark corridor that was impossibly wide and impossibly long.

“I’d drive us in an ATV, but I need to get my steps in,” Lakshmi said. “Too much sitting at a console working all day and night.”

“I have no idea what that is like,” Olivia said.

Lakshmi paused and gave Olivia a sad smile. “No, I bet you do not. We’ll get you cleaned up then we’ll talk. Have you eaten?”

“I ate some fish yesterday,” Olivia said.

“Oh, fresh fish,” Lakshmi sighed. “I do miss fresh food.”

“I don’t,” Olivia said. “I’ll take a good old-fashioned MRE.”

“You say that now,” Lakshmi said with a laugh.

Nineteen

The .50 caliber machine guns went silent and the belt guns bolted to the hoods of the rollers whirred to a stop as Cash ordered the vehicles to halt where they were.

Bodies lay everywhere. The grounds of Flipside BOP was a killing field.

“Report,” Cash said over the comms. “Do we have Petrov?”

“We do not, sir,” someone replied.

The same answer was repeated five times more by five different operators over comms.

“Keep looking,” Cash ordered as he jumped out of the roller, his rifle at his side, barrel aimed at the ground.

The operators around him had their rifles up and were slowly sweeping the area, making sure no Russians popped out with a deadly surprise. But, considering the amount of bodies littering the ground, Cash would have been surprised if any Russians had survived.

“Sir, take a look at this,” an operator said, standing over the corpse of one of the guards. “She doesn’t look Russian.”

Cash walked over and stared at the body. If the woman was Russian, then she was from the eastern part close to China. She certainly was not of Slavic heritage.

“Sir! Over here!” another operator shouted.

Cash moved quickly to the operator’s side and shook his head.

“I knew him,” Cash said. “He’s one of the Icelanders.”

Cash moved quickly from body to body. He knew about ten percent of the faces that lay there as their bodies cooled in the Flipside air.

“Jesus Christ,” he said. “Some of them joined up.”

“Sir!”

“What now?” Cash wondered and jogged to the door of a hut that had been repaired many times over. It was more bamboo and wood than metal. “Petrov?”

“No, sir,” the operator said and nodded to the dark interior of the hut. “It’s been secured, sir.”

Cash gave the man a quizzical look, handed him his rifle, then stepped inside.

“Tre…?” Tressa asked as she sat on a ratty cot, an operator patching up a wound in her side. “Is that you?”

“Tressa. My God…”

Cash rushed to her and grabbed her up in his arms. She cried out in pain and he quickly let go, ignoring the look of disdain from the operator with the med kit.

“You… Christ.” He pointed outside. “Some of the guards… They’re…”

“A lot changed while you’ve been gone,” Tressa said. “Some felt that becoming the enemy was the way to survive. Some felt that fighting the enemy was the way to survive. The later did not get what they wanted.”

“And you?” Cash asked as he watched his sister closely.

“I felt that compliance without complete cooperation was the right way,” Tressa said. She pointed at her head. “It was not always easy, but it kept me sane. I never lost me.”

Her eyes went wide.

“Ivy is here!” she exclaimed. “She came back today too!”

“I know,” Cash said. “I had Liv send her and her team in. We needed the distraction while my people took the walkways and got into place.”

“Oh. That was a good plan,” Tressa said. She glanced past Cash to the outside. “It worked. You’ve set us… Olivia?”

“Wondered when you’d catch that,” Cash said. “A little slower on the uptake than you used to be.”

“Six years of borderline malnutrition will do that to a person,” Tressa said. “Liv is alive?”

“Oh, she’s alive alright,” Cash said and chuckled. “You have no fucking idea how alive she is.”

“She survived out there for six years?” Tressa said. “But she was shot. Four times in the back.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve heard all about it over the past year,” Cash replied.

“Past year? You’ve been here for a year and didn’t come save us sooner?”

“No, I just got here a few hours ago,” Cash said. “I’ve been back Topside for a year. Training.”

“Training? For what?” Tressa asked, confused.

“Sir! We have Petrov!” a voice yelled over the comms. “He’s holed up in the armory!”

“The armory? Well, that’s just fucking great,” Cash growled. “We need him alive.”

“We know, sir.”

“Keep him in there,” Cash said. He held out a hand to his sister. “You want to see what I’ve been training for?”

“Yes,” Tressa said and stood back up.

“Come on, Cash,” the operator said. “She’s going to bleed through this bandage if she moves around.”

“Then follow us with more bandages, Dylon,” Cash snapped.

Cash helped Tressa walk out of the hut and across the base, but they did not head toward the armory.

“Where are we going?” Tressa asked.

She stared at the carnage with cold eyes.

But her eyes warmed back to something of what they used to look like as she watched the efficiency of the operators who had already secured the base. Wounded were being tended to, survivors interviewed, Russians watched closely, their arms bound behind them, non-Russian guards corralled into a single area, their hands bound also as they were interviewed.

Tressa turned her eyes to Cash.

“You’ve done this before,” she stated.

“Good observation,” Cash said. “This is my sixth base I’ve taken. I’ll say this one is harder because we wanted survivors. Our own people fighting against us doesn’t help.”

“Desperate souls tend toward treachery,” Tressa said.

“Speaking of. How is father?” Cash asked.

“Dead,” Tressa said.

“Oh. Well, he was old,” Cash replied.

“He was an asshole and one day that got the best of him,” Tressa said. “Petrov shot him in the head while the entire base watched. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. No one tried to fight back after that day.”

“How long ago?”

“Does it matter?”

“No, I suppose not. Especially since time is irrelevant now anyway.”

“What does that mean? And why are we going to Petrov’s hut?”

“Petrov’s hut? It’s not the command hut anymore?”

“No. It stopped being that a long time ago.”

“No, it didn’t,” Cash said with a smirk and walked her right up to a door she hadn’t stepped through in a long while.

“Tell me you have it ready,” Cash said as he stepped inside.

Several operators stood around a hole in the floorboards of the hut. One of the operators was covered in dirt and stood holding a shovel over her shoulder.

“It’s ready when you are, sir,” she said.

“Good,” Cash said.

“Ms. Thompson?” Dylon, the medic, said. “Sit here so I can redo your bandages.”

Tressa complied without hesitation. Cash noted that.

Cash crossed to the hole and jumped down inside, his feet only centimeters from the frame of a large metal box. He held a hand out and up and an operator slapped what looked like a large metal key into his palm. Cash crouched, cleared away some dirt, and slid open a slot. Then he put the key in and turned it.

The box began to hum and a holo interface sprang to life. Cash swiped through several commands on the interface until he found what he wanted.

“All personnel, prepare for activation,” Cash said into the comms. “You’ll want to pop your jaws like Brain said we should.”

All of the operators in the hut worked their jaws as if they were trying to pop their ears after a long plane flight or climb up a mountain.

Cash entered a code into the holo interface and the box stopped humming.

“Huh,” Cash said. “That was a little—”

There was a loud squeal over the comms and every single operator connected across the base cried out.

“We’re good,” Brain said, his voice coming from the box and from the comms. “How are you on your side, Tre?”

“Zero casualties,” Cash said.

“That’s not what I asked,” Brain replied.

“Father is dead,” Cash said. “So are many others.”

“But Liv is fine,” Brain said. “I received the message from my past self a few minutes ago. We are right on schedule.”

“That you know of,” Cash said. “The future is new from here on out.”

“Eh, maybe it is, maybe it isn’t,” Brain said.

“Hey, brother, how’s the rest of the family?” Raff interrupted over the comms.

“Raff? Why are you back so soon?” Cash asked.

“No one there, man,” Raff said. “Russians bugged out. Didn’t even bother to booby trap the outpost.”

“That’s suspicious,” Cash said.

“Yep. That’s why we blew it all up. Didn’t salvage a single piece of scrap. You’d think by now that they’d give up on the honey trap ploy.”

“They never give up.”

“No shit. Now, answer the question, how’s the rest of the family?”

“Tressa’s here. She’s good.”

“Ivy?”

Cash looked at Tressa. She nodded.

“Good.”

“Mike…”

“I haven’t found him yet. Gotta go, man. We have a schedule to keep.”

“And some gear to try. Fingers crossed it works Flipside, brother. Otherwise, you get to become one with the molecules of the Universe.”

“You are such an asshole.”

“My wife tells me that all the time. See ya on the Topside.”

“Petrov?” Brain asked, his voice back on comms.

“In the armory,” Cash replied.

“Hmmm… I don’t like the location, mainly due to the amount of steel around him, but it shouldn’t stop the gear from working. You need to be in line of sight, do not forget.”

“Yeah, Brain, not the first time I’ve done this.”

“It is the first time Flipside, though. Be careful. Comm us when you are ready for the full transfer.”

“Will do. Cash out.”

Cash climbed up out of the hole and again held out a hand to Tressa.

“Now you can see what we’ve been training for,” he said.

She took his hand and followed him out of the hut, across the base, and to the armory where several operators stood watching the hatch, their weapons raised. Cash stopped several meters away and made sure Tressa was steady before he walked up to the hatch and knocked.

“Petrov? It’s Captain Trevon Cash,” Cash called out. “I need you to open the hatch and come outside unarmed.”

While Cash talked, two operators lay out a thin piece of mesh on the ground. The mesh was about four feet square and electricity crackled around it.

“Ready, sir,” one of the operators said.

“Petrov?” Cash called one more time then shook his head. He walked back to Tressa. “How stocked is that armory?”

“Barely,” Tressa said.

“Explosives?”

“Oh, no, those ran out years ago.”

“Good to know.” He turned to the operators. “Our objective is to take Petrov alive. That includes making sure he does not kill himself when cornered. We hit hard, we hit fast, we hit true. If you take a round, suck it up and keep going. We’ll get you back home and patched up fast. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” the operators replied.

“I’m point,” Cash said. A couple of the operators began to argue, but shut up at the look on Cash’s face. “I’ve been waiting for this, so do not think you’re going to take this moment away from me.”

He stepped onto the mesh and put a hand to his belt.

Then directly in front of him, a large oval tore through the air, revealing a dark interior. Cash was through the oval and into the darkness, rifle up, before anyone else could say a thing. He was quickly followed by six operators.

Shouting could be heard. There were two quick gunshots. Then silence.

After a minute, Cash came walking out of the oval with Petrov in his grip. The Russian was slumped and bleeding from his shoulder and chest.

“Brain! Immediate medical evac for Petrov!” Cash shouted and slapped a strip of metal across Petrov’s forehead.

There was a flash and the Russian was gone, leaving Cash holding empty air. Cash stumbled a little with the sudden loss of weight then recovered and walked to Tressa.

“Even with the training, I still can’t get used to the transition,” Cash said.

“What just happened?” Tressa whispered.

“Brain will explain it all when you get Topside,” Cash said. “And when you’ve had some time to rest.” Cash looked about. “First…where’s Mike?”

Tressa hung her head then shook it slightly.

“Tressa. I need you to take me to Mike,” Cash said softly. Tressa kept shaking her head. “Sis. Listen to me. We need Mike. He’s part of all this.”

“Tre… Mike’s… Mike’s gone,” Tressa whispered.

“He’s dead?” Cash asked, shocked. “No. Brain said—”

“No, not dead. Just…gone,” Tressa said. She sighed. “I’ll show you.”

They crossed the base once more until they reached the infirmary.

Tressa led Cash inside and around the many wounded that were being treated by medically trained operators. She led Cash to a supply closet, opened the door, stepped up to a shelf, then started to shove the shelf aside.

“Here. I got it,” Cash said and moved her out of the way so he could finish the job.

Behind the shelf was a door. Cash turned the knob and opened the door, his hand going to his nose because of the stench. Taking a flashlight from his belt, Cash cautiously stepped into the small room.

Sitting in the middle of what was basically another supply closet, bound and wrapped up in a makeshift straight jacket made from rope and soiled sheets, sat Mike. A huge grin was on his face.

“CASH!” he yelled. “YOU MADE IT! BRAIN SAID YOU WOULD! HE SAID YOU’D COME!”

Then Mike bent over and started smacking his forehead against the floor, over and over.

“HE SAID SO! HE SAID SO HE SAID SO!”

Cash rushed in and stopped the madman from cracking his skull open.

“THANK YOU, DUDE! CAN I GO HOME NOW? BRAIN SAID I CAN GO HOME NOW!”

“Yeah, you can go home now, Mike,” Cash said and helped the man stand. “We’re all going home now.”

Twenty

“Tre. Wake up.”

Cash groaned and opened his eyes. Barbara was kneeling next to him, but her face was turned away. She was staring at something in the distance.

“What is it?” Cash asked, sitting up fast. He grabbed his rifle even though the weapon had been out of ammunition for a long while. “Teeth? Wingers?”

“No. No, not dinos at all,” Barbara said. “Get your ass up and look for yourself.”

Cash got his ass up and joined Raff, Dr. Xipan, and Pytor as they stood by a stand of pine trees, or what they guessed were pine trees, and looked out over a vast valley.

They had stopped at the rim of the valley the night before, too tired to hike down into it despite the sight of a large river splitting the valley in half. It had only been a day since they’d had fresh water and they were not going to die of thirst right then. They could have died from falling down the steep descent into the valley if they’d kept walking in the dark, though. So Cash had called it and they’d set up camp.

Now the sun was rising and what the valley held could plainly be seen.

Except it wasn’t what the valley held that they were all looking at. It was what the bubble inside the valley held that had their attention.

“Is it me or is that some Mad Max-looking Topside down there?” Raff asked.

“I see people,” Dr. Xipan said. “People walking around.”

“Heavily armed people,” Cash said. “And those are rollers. And fucking crawlers.”

“And look!” Raff said, pointing like a six year old seeing fireworks for the first time. “They have air support! Did you see that? A jet just flew by!”

“This is a mirage, yes?” Pytor asked. “An illusion.”

“We can’t all be seeing the same mirage, pal,” Raff said with a snort. “That’s crazy talk.”

“Mass hallucinations have been recorded,” Dr. Xipan said.

“We’re not hallucinating,” Barbara said. “That’s a time bubble. And that is Topside.”

“How?” Cash asked. “And why does it look so…?”

“Military?” Raff finished for him. “Very good questions. I’m thinking, and I’m only riffing here, that maybe, the answers to those question are down in that valley and on the other side of that bubble. What say we all go for one last hike and see what happens? Who’s with me?”

No one replied. They only stared at the bubble and the activity happening inside.

“Uh, those weren’t rhetorical questions, folks,” Raff said and shrugged. He started walking down the steep decline. “Follow if you want, but I’m gonna check it the fuck out right the fuck now.”

“Raff!” Cash shouted. “Stop right there.”

Raff stopped and turned to look up at Cash.

“What?” he asked.

“That’s a shitty route,” Cash said and pointed off to the left. “There’s a much easier one right over there. I do not want to have to carry you because you broke a fucking ankle just when we may have found a way out of this shit.”

Raff looked where Cash was pointing and nodded. “Yeah. That’s a much easier route.”

It took two hours to descend to the valley floor. They lost sight of the bubble as they entered a thick forest of giant ferns and pines mixed with palms.

Without rifles, they had to carefully navigate the forest, always on the alert for predators or, as they had come to find out, carnivorous plants. One wrong step and they would have their leg clamped by a hungry plant that looked like a Venus flytrap and a steel bear trap had had an ugly baby.

It was very slow going through the forest.

By the time they reached the other side, and caught glimpses of the time bubbles shimmer once more, it was evening and quickly turning into night.

“Something is tracking us back there,” Pytor said when they stopped at the last few trees of the forest and stared out at the shimmering bubble. “I hear it following about five meters back.”

The group turned but couldn’t see anything back in the darkness of the forest.

“Then let’s get the fuck out of here,” Raff said quietly. “You’re seeing what I’m seeing, right? Those look like Topside Industries uniforms. Those are our people in there.”

“Hold on,” Cash said. “Notice something, Raff?”

“That we’re about to experience indoor plumbing again?”

“No, asshole, those vehicles and operators are massing by this bubble like they’re bracing for an attack,” Cash said. “We go rushing toward that and we may get our heads blown off. Let’s stay put for a minute and see what…happens…”

Over twenty operators appeared out of nowhere. They stepped out from behind trees, popped up from the tall grass that stretched from the forest to the edge of the bubble, and stood up from their hides dug into the bank of the river several meters off.

“Drop your weapons and state your names!” someone yelled. “Comply now or you will be shot!”

“Trevon Cash!” Cash shouted as he slowly set his empty rifle on the ground. “We are unarmed! We ran out of ammunition days ago!”

“Weeks,” Barbara said as she tossed her pistol on the ground and raised her hands in the air.

“Weeks? Huh,” Cash said.

“Raphael Bellows!”

“Dr. Xipan!”

“Does she have a first name?” Raff whispered to Cash.

“Shut the fuck up,” Cash snarled.

“Pytor Kasinov!”

“We’ve got a fucking Russian! There’s a fucking Russian with them!”

The operators rushed Cash and the rest of them and they were all thrown roughly face down into the dirt.

“You a Russian too?” a voice growled close to Cash’s ear. “You kill the real Trevon Cash and now think you can sneak—”

“That’s enough, Purfoy,” a voice said from a few meters away. The voice did not shout, but the command in the tone changed the atmosphere quickly. “Let them up.”

“Even the Russian fuck?”

“Even the Russian fuck,” the voice said.

Cash blinked a few times and slowly turned his head to stare at Barbara. He mouthed, “Liv?”

“I said get them up,” the voice ordered and Cash and everyone were yanked up onto their feet.

Cash blinked at the person that walked up to him with a wide grin on her face. She also had a wide scar across her left cheek. But other than that, Cash recognized her instantly. Although…

“Liv? That’s a new fucking look,” Raff said.

“Raff,” Olivia said, turning her smile to Raff. “It’s good to see you.”

“Major?” one of the operators asked. “What are your orders?”

“Get your guns off our friends,” Olivia said. “Head back in and let everyone know this is what we’ve been waiting for. Training time begins and Brain’s plans can now move forward.”

The operators hesitated then lowered their weapons, some looking disappointed they didn’t get to shoot anyone, then all turned and walked back toward the bubble.

“No, seriously,” Raff said, waving at the tactical gear that Olivia was dressed in. “This really is a new look for you.”

“Liv…” Cash started, but didn’t finish as she raised a finger then pointed it at Pytor.

“What’s the Russian’s story?” Olivia asked.

“He’s a friend,” Cash said.

“We don’t have Russian friends Topside, Tre,” Olivia said. “Explain.”

So Cash explained. Olivia didn’t move from her spot until he finished speaking.

“You trust him with your life then?” she asked.

“Yes,” Cash replied without hesitation.

“Then he lives,” Olivia said. “But he will be watched.”

“Sure,” Cash said. “Expected considering what the Russians have done.”

“Oh, Tre, you know nothing about what the Russians have done,” Olivia said. “Or what’s going on.”

The sounds of roars could be heard from inside the bubbles.

“Teeth!” Raff yelled and looked about. His eyes stopped on the pistol on Olivia’s hip. “Can I have that? I’d really like to have that so I can shoot some teeth.”

“These teeth we do not shoot,” Olivia said and stepped aside so they all could get a better view.

Inside the bubble, a pack of what looked like armored tyrannosaurs marched by. With people walking alongside as if it was no big deal.

“Teeth hate to be ridden, but the herbivores are pretty compliant,” Olivia said. “I learned a few things living in the wild for six years.” She sighed. “And, if Brain isn’t wrong, in a year I’ll be able to go back and see my babies.”

Cash blinked a few times. Everyone else stood there, their jaws wide open.

Once Cash was able to find the words, he asked, “Liv? What the fuck is going on?”

Olivia laughed and laughed hard. She clutched at her belly until she could catch her breath.

“You were right,” Olivia said. “Fuck, Tre, you were right that this would feel good to say.”

She took a deep breath, turned to face the bubble, then looked back over her shoulder at Cash.

“Ask me again,” she said.

“Ask you what?”

“What’s going on.”

Cash hesitated then asked, “What’s going on?”

“Oh, you’ll see,” she said and started laughing again as she walked off. “Come on. You have an entire future and past to catch up on.”

The End

Author Bio:

Jake Bible, Bram Stoker Award nominated-novelist, short story writer, independent screenwriter, podcaster, and inventor of the Drabble Novel, has entertained thousands with his horror, sci/fi, thriller, and adventure tales. He reaches audiences of all ages with his uncanny ability to write a wide range of characters and genres.

Jake is the author of the bestselling Z-Burbia series set in Asheville, NC, the bestselling Salvage Merc One, the Apex Trilogy (DEAD MECH, The Americans, Metal and Ash) and the Roak: Galactic Bounty Hunter series for Severed Press. He is also the author of the YA zombie novel, Little Dead Man, the Bram Stoker Award nominated Teen horror novel, Intentional Haunting, the ScareScapes series, and the Reign of Four series for Permuted Press, as well as Stone Cold Bastards and the Black Box, Inc. series for Bell Bridge Books.

Find Jake at jakebible.com. Join him on Twitter @jakebible and find him on Facebook.