The Ark Plan (24 page)

“D
o you think Kennedy's dead?” Shawn asked. I sat with my back against the trunk of the massive tree we'd climbed to hang our tree pods in for the night, trying to drink in the sunset. The surrounding forest was dazzling, painted in pinks and oranges as the thrum of insects started their nightly concert. My mind and my heart were full. I was alive to see this sunset and the next, but my parents were not. I imagined my mom at my age, soaking up sunsets, and I hoped that my dad had seen at least one before Kennedy had caught up with him. They were one of my favorite things about this dangerous topside world.

“I don't know,” I said, shaking my head. We'd
had this same debate multiple times that day as we'd fled Kennedy and the marines. “There were a lot of dinosaurs coming at him, but he had a gun, and they weren't very big.”

“The more he killed, the more he intensified the smell of the blood.” Todd shook his head. “Making him bleed like that was smart. Really smart.”

“It was a hunch,” I said. “I spotted that saltopus and it gave me an idea. I'd read that they usually won't go after prey larger than themselves, but there were theories that they hunted in cooperative packs.”

Shawn shuddered. “I'd say the theory was correct.”

“Yeah,” Todd agreed. “Ankle Biters are usually just a nuisance, but if they smell blood, watch out. We always just wring their necks if they start causing problems. No blood that way.”

“And it was no hunch, Sky,” Shawn said. “You researched dinosaurs for the last five years. It paid off.”

“I guess it did,” I laughed, and winced when the movement sent a twinge of pain through my muscles. I was stiff and sore from the hours and hours of running we'd done that day. The first half hour we'd run in the wrong direction. It had taken that long for the panic and fear clouding my brain to part enough for me to remember my compass. I'd finally checked it and redirected our course.

“I was planning on helping you out,” Todd said, shaking his head ruefully, “but those other compound guys came out of nowhere. It took everything Shawn and I had to bring them down.”

“I'm impressed that you got them tied to that tree,” I said.

“I wanted to kill them,” Todd admitted. “But Shawn pointed out that if we did that, we weren't any better than they were.”

“I knew both of them.” Shawn shrugged. “They are both good guys with families back at North Compound. They were just following orders. I didn't think they deserved to die for that.”

“Do you think they'll follow us?” I asked.

“I don't think the Noah is going to give up just because a few of his marines got mauled.”

“What I still don't understand is how they followed us,” I said. “We ditched everything that could have possibly contained a tracker.” I glanced up at Shawn, but his face was clouded with the same worry as my own.

“I have a theory,” Todd said. “I don't know much about those tracker things, but I do know a lot of people that can track in the woods without any fancy bits of technology.”

“What do you mean?” Shawn asked, sounding almost hopeful.

“I mean, we didn't really try to hide our trail after we left the Oaks,” Todd said. “If one of your marine guys was good at tracking, they could have just followed us on foot.”

“I don't know,” I said, thinking about the compound's marines. “The marines rarely go topside. I doubt anyone knows how to do that.”

“Then maybe they found someone who does,” Todd suggested. “Most of the men of the Oaks could have done it for them. Not that they would have,” he added quickly.

“Maybe,” I said, rolling the idea around in my mind. It was possible, I guessed, but it just didn't seem to fit. I sighed. All I could do now was get to Lake Michigan as fast as possible, and pray we'd seen the last of General Kennedy and his marines.

“It sounded like that plug of yours is pretty important,” Todd said, pulling me from my thoughts.

I opened my compass to stare at the tiny piece of metal. “It did, didn't it?” I turned to Shawn, who was sitting a few branches higher than me, brooding out at the spectacular sunset. “What plan do you think he was talking about?” I asked.

He shrugged, pulling his eyes away from the horizon to glance down at where I sat. “A week ago, I would have said the plan was probably something to
protect the human race, but the Noah isn't who I always thought he was.”

“Took you long enough,” Todd quipped, and I kicked him in the shin when Shawn looked away. Todd flinched, and I scowled at him. Couldn't he see that Shawn was upset? He had believed in the compound way of life, in the Noah and his plan to save the human race, with his whole heart. Now everything he'd ever known or believed in was being called into question. I was struggling with it myself, and I'd never been a believer like Shawn.

“Do either of you have a knife?” Shawn asked abruptly, and I shook my head.

“I dropped mine when I went after Kennedy. What happened to yours?”

“Todd and I lost ours when we were wrestling those marines,” Shawn said, looking disappointed.

“It's okay,” Todd said. “We can get by without a knife until Ivan catches up with us.” Shawn didn't look reassured.

“You really think Ivan will be able to find us?” I asked. I knew I'd asked the same question five times already that day, but I needed the reassurance.

“His tracking skills are epic,” Todd said. “He'll find us if”—he paused—“if he's alive.”

“He is,” I said. I had to believe it. Fate wouldn't be
so cruel to give me a family just to rip it away from me again. I hoped. Without Ivan, I truly was an orphan, just like Shawn had said all those years ago when we first met in the Guardian Wing. Shutting my eyes, I tried to picture my dad's face, but the years had made the memory hazy. I wondered if what Kennedy had said was true, that my dad had been dead for the last five years. Just like Todd's tracker theory, I found it hard to believe. If Kennedy really had captured and killed my dad within days of his escape, wouldn't it have been compound-wide news? The marines would have liked nothing more than to gloat about the death of a traitor. Unless, I frowned, they'd wanted to keep his death a secret once they discovered what he'd stolen.

I glanced down at the compass around my neck and the mystery it contained. What did you steal, Dad? I wondered silently. And would you do it all again despite how things turned out? A sigh escaped me, and Shawn gave me a questioning look. I just shook my head. I wasn't ready to talk about my dad. Not yet. I'd been carrying his disappearance around on my shoulders for the last five years. It had defined me and dictated almost every decision I made.

Now, somehow, that weight was gone. Maybe it was what Kennedy had said, or finding Ivan, or everything that had happened since I left the compound, but I felt
free for the first time in a long time. I was still going to follow through and get the plug to Lake Michigan. The need to find out its secret still pulled at me, making it almost uncomfortable to sit still. But after that, I was going to go back to the Oaks, and I was starting over. Well—I frowned. I had to help Todd save the people of the Oaks first. But after that, I was going to start my life as a girl who lived in a tree, breathed fresh air every day, and never missed a sunset. I stared out at the swiftly darkening forest. Far in the distance a dinosaur bugled, and another answered its call.

“Are you sure you're okay coming with us to the lake?” I asked Todd. “This is taking longer than our original deal. I'd understand if you want to go after your mom and the rest of the Oaks villagers. Shawn and I can make it to the lake on our own.” I felt another uncomfortable twinge of guilt as I thought about everything that had happened since I'd left the compound. “We've already put you in enough danger for one lifetime.”

“Are you kidding?” Todd asked. “My mother raised me better than that. She'd be furious if I left you now to go after her. She believes in independence and a life free of the Noah's tyranny. I have a chance to help ruin whatever plan he's cooking up. I'm going with.”

“Still,” I said, feeling guilty.

“Plus,” Todd said, “you heard Ivan. Shawn and I have to look out for you or he's going to make us into a rug. I wouldn't put it past him either.”

“You'd make an ugly rug,” Shawn said from above us.

Todd snorted. “So would you, compound boy.”

“Birch brat,” Shawn retorted, and grinned.

“Well, thanks,” I said. “You're a good friend.” And I realized it was true. This strange boy who lived in trees and outmaneuvered dinosaurs was my friend. I'd never had anyone besides Shawn; it was nice to know there was someone else on my side. My mind slipped back to Ivan, but I pushed the painful worry aside. Todd was right; Ivan would find us. “I promise that as soon as we get this plug mess figured out, we'll help you get your mom and the rest of your village back.”

“I know you will,” Todd said.

“So we head to the lake in the morning?” Shawn asked, sounding resigned.

“We head to the lake,” I agreed. I opened up my compass again in the dimming light and watched as the dial spun and then pointed north. Hope uncurled in my stomach, stretching itself like a cat in the sun. I was going to finish my dad's mission. I was the daughter of parents who had died in the fight for freedom and independence. I was the granddaughter of one of the greatest dinosaur hunters of all time. I had friends by
my side willing to put their lives on the line for me. I had everything I needed.

“I'm going to call it a night.” Todd yawned. “I'll see you guys in the morning.”

“We aren't going to have the kind of wake-up we had last time we slept in one of these, are we?” Shawn asked, looking nervously down at the ground.

“Man, I hope not,” Todd said, quickly assessing the surrounding branches. “This tree is a lot bigger than the one we were in before, and we aren't near water. But”—he shrugged—“it's a risk you just have to take. It's part of the territory of living aboveground.”

“Don't remind me.” Shawn groaned, and I smiled.

“Good night, Todd,” I said as he crawled into his pod. Less than five minutes later, we heard the sound of his soft snore.

“That kid is unbelievable,” Shawn said. “I don't know if I'm going to be able to sleep tonight. I just keep thinking about the last time. That Croc Killer isn't something I'm going to forget any time soon.”

“We'll be okay,” I said. “You should really try to sleep. We have another long day in front of us.”

“Has there been any other kind since we left the compound?” He turned and climbed up the tree another ten feet to where his own pod was tied and climbed in.

I was alone. I took a second to enjoy the clicking
chirps of the insects before pulling out my journal. With the last of the fading light, I sketched out Ivan's house, added information about the saltopus—or Ankle Biters, as Todd had called them—and jotted down the archery pointers Ivan had given me before I forgot them. I was going to wake up early the next morning to practice. It was doubtful that I'd ever have Todd's skill or Ivan's uncanny ability, but I wanted to get confident enough that if I was ever in a situation like I'd been in earlier that day with Kennedy, I wouldn't hesitate to shoot.

I looked up as the echoing call of a dinosaur floated across the evening air. In the distance, a herd of long-necked brontosaurus moved slowly across an open meadow, and I smiled. The topside world was more beautiful and dangerous than anything I could have imagined. With one last long look across the horizon, I turned and crawled into my own tree pod for the night, because I hadn't been lying to Shawn: tomorrow would be another long day, full of its own adventures and dangers and dinosaurs.

Dear Reader,

All of the dinosaurs that Sky Mundy encounters in
Edge of Extinction: The Ark Plan
really did stomp around our planet over 65 million years ago, and I had a blast bringing them to life in the pages of this book.

When I first started writing Sky's story, my knowledge of dinosaurs was limited to the basics—which is a problem if you intend to write a book riddled with them. I found myself doing exactly what Sky does in the book: researching the habits, appearance, and behaviors of these ancient creatures.

While my investigation into the realm of dinosaurs did shed some light on things, it also left some gaping holes. Paleontologists, those splendid people who study and dig up dinosaurs, are severely limited by the fact that their subjects have been dead for millions of years. So while they can make educated guesses about how dinosaurs lived, the truth is that there is no way to know for sure. So where science left gaps, I was able to let my imagination run wild.

For example, even though the
Tyrannosaurus rex
is incredibly well known, we still have a lot of unanswered
questions about this king of the dinosaurs. Did they have feathers like some of their toothy cousins? What did T. rex babies look like? What color were they? And what is up with those tiny arms? So in chapter seventeen I took my creative license in both hands and answered those questions. I don't think the T. rex will mind. Do you?

However, my dinosaur research wasn't all smooth sailing. The first bump in the road involved feathers. Some dinosaurs had them. Who knew? Definitely not me, and I had a hard time wrapping my head around the idea. Somehow, dinosaurs lost their ferocious appeal when covered in fluff. However, the facts were the facts, and many of the predatory dinosaurs did have feathers. (Although I was relieved to learn that paleontologists doubt they were covered in the fluffy variety. Phew!) Dinosaurs have turned out to have a lot more in common with birds than we originally thought, so I guess feathers make sense. The jury is still out on what they were used for or how many each dinosaur had, so I did my best with the research available—and I made sure no one thought Sky was running away from Big Bird.

My second bump in the research road came from the brontosaurus. With its long curved neck, massive elephantlike body, and tiny head, the brontosaurus is probably the second-most recognizable dinosaur behind
our buddy the T. rex. As this well-known fellow is only spotted by Sky from a distance, I didn't spend any time researching him. Months after finishing the book, I was doing some additional research for an author's talk and I stumbled across something that made my jaw drop. The brontosaurus never actually existed. What?!

The brontosaurus found its way into history books in the late 1800s when something called the Bone Wars was taking place. This war was marked by a competition between two well-known paleontologists, Edward Drinker Cope and Othniel Charles Marsh. Both men were competing against each other in a mad rush to discover new dinosaurs and get their findings published. This rush led Marsh to mistakenly mislabel an apatosaurus as a new genus:
Brontosaurus
. However, by the time the mistake was discovered, the brontosaurus had already captured the imaginations of the people who had seen it. So despite the fact that it didn't actually exist, the brontosaurus started showing up in cartoons, advertisements, the works.

Imagine my horror. I'd put a
fake
dinosaur in my book! (Insert forehead smack here.) I panicked, shooting off an email to my editor that essentially said “Stop the presses! The brontosaurus is a fraud!” Mistake number two. A more in-depth investigation revealed that the brontosaurus has just recently made a comeback of
sorts. Based off some new research and a closer look at some of the old, scientists now think there might have actually been a brontosaurus. Time will tell if these great beasts get to keep their massive feet in the pages of our history books, but until then you will still find them on the last page of this novel.

I'm not sure if there is anything more fun to research than dinosaurs, except for maybe plesiosaurs, ichthyosaurs, or pliosaurs. You know, those gigantic, prehistoric sea monsters that used to snack on the dinosaurs? The creatures that received names like “Predator X” and “the Monster” when they were first discovered? Now
they
were interesting to research, but you'll have to wait until book two to see how Sky handles them. And don't worry, none of them had feathers!

Sincerely,

Laura Martin