the Refuge
one click from the Thermal Lake
09:27 AM

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"GET THOSE crates loaded!" Ichabod stood with his eyes narrowed, glaring at the marines who scurried past like rats. "Carefully! Unless you want to pay the damages of a couple million pounds!"

The man rolled his shoulders back, feeling his spine crackle. To the west he could just barely see the ridge of the waterfall over the tops of the ferns; the Learners scampering atop it as small as ants.

The groan of metal made him grimace and turn back to the time machine. "Hurry up! We have a date with those rebels which I do not intend to miss!"

The nervous energy he felt simmering in his veins was thrumming through the air, too, he noted. Everyone was anxious, which he would've minded less if the marines hadn't been messing up his shipments.

Victoria, the veterinarian who'd been in charge of taking blood samples of the dinosaurs, joined him at his side. "All the specimens have been loaded," she said in a low, timid voice. Ichabod felt a rush of satisfaction flood his system, though he pressed his disgruntled look further into his face.

"Good. Let's get the wheels of this operation turning, then." He shot a glance back up to the ridge of the waterfall.

The weight of his pistol was a good one behind his back.

Ready or not, Lale. Ichabod let a small, tight grin relax his features. Here I come.

the Refuge
one click from the Thermal Lake
09:30 AM

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"Luca, there's no time!" Royson forced the satellite into his hands, knocking his screwdriver lose. A bead of sweat raced down his cheek, mimicking the speed of his heartbeat.

"How do we know if it'll work?" Luca fretted, gently clasping the prototype as if he was carrying a baby. The tarp the satellite had previously been covered with was over Des' body instead, and staring at his dead friend's lifeless shape under the material filled Luca's pulse with determination rather than blood.

He turned away before Royson could answer. "I need to find a place where the transmission can reach the volt-guns," he whispered, almost to himself. "Somewhere close, but far enough that the marines won't find it."

"Let's go!" He heard Ichabod yell. The man's cry was echoed with shouts and cheers, and the clicking of volt-guns being assembled and charged. Royson pushed him from the tent, hard enough to make him fumble with the satellite. His palms were sweaty.

"Luca, it's now or never." Royson's face was pale, her eyes wide. He guessed he didn't look much better.

He shut his eyes and shot up a brief prayer to God. Keep me safe, please. Keep Tina safe. If it is your holy will, then let us survive. (Though I really hope it is.) Amen. Luca opened his eyes and puffed out an exhalation of nerves.

"Alright. Fine. Let's go. We'll stick to the back and hide the satellite —" Luca couldn't say any more, as soldiers were pushing past, all grasping volt-guns. Luca felt exposed unarmed, but his knuckles whitened in his peripheral vision.

He was shaking, though trying to hide it. Shooting a meaningful look at Royson — Stay low, and don't get killed — he moved forward, following the marines.

the Thermal Lake
one click from the Refuge
09:32 AM

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Darwin was wrong. Amelia watched as the twisted hulk of a time machine seemed to grow before her eyes, warping into the shadow of a lone man. Her fevered dreams were merging with reality, and her temple was hot with sweat.

She thought back to Ed, who she had left behind among the ferns. He would be better off among his own, she reckoned, with the impending war looming. Her throat stuck with saliva. The smartest survive.

the Thermal Lake
one click from the Refuge
09:33 AM

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Lale held a spear in his one hand, a jagged rock the size of a magic eight-ball in his other. The first wave, he remembered himself saying as he breathed out a slow exhalation, would be made up of rocks.

Boulders, twigs and pebbles — they'd use as little spears as possible. Tina was still steadfast in her beliefs that Luca would come through, but nothing seemed to have exactly been going their way the past few days. They'd throw the rocks to cover themselves and confuse the marines, though there were a few other sneaky traps Lale had up his sleeve.

For one, Lale and some other Learners had redirected the flow of the pond's water down the sides of the waterfall, making the rocks and vegetation there slippery and treacherous to climb (or so he hoped, anyway). They'd broken ferns from their roots and thrown them as barricades on either side of the waterfall, too, spiky barriers that had left cuts in his palm from trying to maneuver them down the slopes.

There was nothing else Lale and his fellows could do but wait, right then. He consoled himself with the fact that they had the advantage, being on higher ground. As long as the flanks that he had divvied up among the more athletic of the rebels (the name had seemed to have stuck) could hold against an onslaught, he hoped that they could make it through long enough for one to strike the heart of the beast — Ichabod.

Lale knew from experience in the military that a winning side's victory could be destroyed with the slaughter of its leader. He hoped that that would carry through in the Jurassic.

A humid breeze teased through his hair, and the smell of rain caressed his nose. He didn't know how the weather could offer an advantage to them, but he hoped it would.

To his right, Lale could see Amelia staring off into the distance. He'd placed her and Tina in the middle of the battlefield for optimal protection — a last resort if Ichabod's forces broke through.

It struck him then that in every war movie, the leader or general or whatever always had a speech to raise his soldiers' spirits. Was he meant to do that? Would it help? Usually Fereldson's threats were enough to get he and his squadron going, but there'd been a sense of camaraderie then; maybe even some humor among the lighter-hearted.

The world's survival rested on them. Lale tightened his grip on his spear. Thinking about whether or not to make a speech was the least of his problems ... But he turned around to face those behind him anyway.

"I'm not gonna pretend that this'll be easy," Lale started. He swallowed as their eyes locked on him. "In fact, I think this will be quite hard. But we need to think about the bigger picture. This is beyond us. Beyond vengeance or hatred or rivalries of any sort."

His flow of words fumbled to a stop. At his side, he saw Amelia surveying him, her eyes wide. Lale tightened his jaws before continuing, remembering in his mind's eye how he had defied Ichabod the day before; for Amelia.

"This is the world. Think about all that you've left behind. Your family. Your friends. Dag, even your dog named Rufus or your cat named Fluffy." There was a ripple of nervous laughter at that, and Lale's heart lightened. His words came easier, even as he felt Amelia's scrutiny on his skin.

"They're all being put in danger because of that man there," Lale pointed towards the camp. Towards the time machine, with skeletal bones and twisted joints. "And we're going to stop him."

Swallowing made his ears crackle. His voice rose as his mouth was engulfed with humidity. "You hear me? We're going to stop him, or die trying!"

That was the cue for the soldiers in movies to let out a cheer, and Lale thumped his spear into the ground in relief when the men and women before him did not disappoint.

Lale turned to face Ichabod and his soldiers again, his eyes hardening against the brightness of the sun. In the hazy distance, he could see a column of ant-like figures walking through the shadows of the ferns that swallowed the land.

"For 2039," Lale whispered to himself. Another breeze sent the echo back at him, from Amelia's direction.

He tilted his head and looked towards her, half expecting her to look away. She didn't, and her brown eyes softened in his direction. "You ready?" He asked in a murmur, like they were about to go to a dinner on their first date instead of wage war against a British maniac.

What life could've been ... Locking eyes with her across a hallway or a crowded room. Kissing her in candlelight, her curls furling across her golden skin. Making love to her in heated darkness. Loving her, full stop.

"No." The corners of her mouth lifted in a small smile. He wished he could've had a camera to capture it; another hapless daydream to add to the pile.

Lale wanted to kiss her, because even though she was sick, even though they were about to die (most likely) and he was half delirious with nerves that twisted his gut far more than on any battlefield, she still looked beautiful.

Live for her. Lale broke their gaze, his breath flaring from his nostrils. Live for her now, before it's too late.

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