“I’m sorry I scared you before. But you’re ok now; nobody’s going to hurt you,” I say, continuing to stroke his head. He chirps a bit more lightly at this and nuzzles his head into the touch. It is all I can do not to start squealing in delight. I am basically petting a dinosaur, and it’s letting me. Despite everything that people presumably put him through, he seems to trust me. That simple fact feels so much more gratifying than it should.
A crack of thunder draws our attentions skyward. I look down at the little guy who is now chirping nervously as he sweeps his head from side to side. Am I really doing this? I could just drop him off at a vet or a zoo and be done with it. For some reason that idea doesn’t sit well with me though. I feel oddly protective of the little guy even though I don’t even really know what he is. He seems to have been through so much, I’m not sure I would trust anyone else to take care of him. I sigh; this isn’t getting us out of this ditch.
“What do you say we get out of here before my pants get all wet?” I say as I scoop him up into my arms, careful to avoid his injured leg. The little guy squirms a bit in surprise, but soon seems to settle himself into my embrace. Climbing up the embankment and out onto the road proves to be a challenge with an arm full of baby something or other, but eventually we make it back to where I started. The more frequent booming of thunder hurries me along as I hastily work to zip the little guy up within my jacket. He twists around at first, and I worry for a moment that he is going to rip out of my chest a la Aliens. But once he finds purpose on the arm I am using to support him, he seems to settle down. Looking up at me from within my collar he chirps happily and snuggles into the fuzziness of my undershirt. I can barely stop from cooing.
“You are going to have to stop being so adorable, or we are never going to get you inside before the rain-” A deafening boom, seemingly directly over my head is followed swiftly by a deluge.
“…starts.”
Let me tell you something, running half a mile at night in the pouring rain with a large reptile stuffed down your shirt isn’t as easy as I thought it was going to be. I thought about Mark and exactly what he was doing. The shock and horror on his face makes a whole lot more sense now that I know I caught him dumping a body. For, I can only assume, Elysium Tech. They are the only ones I can think of capable of creating something like the little guy. Though I haven’t heard of them making anything close to this. They play with bacteria and develop bio fuels not create monsters. Neither do I know why, after making him, they would want to get rid of him so badly. I mean, this is the discovery of the century, an animal completely unique, never before seen on the planet. Why would they want to just throw away something like that? The thought that he might be dangerous crosses my mind but it doesn’t seem right. Not only does he seem really docile but if he is a threat to the general populous, why dispose of him so haphazardly? No, if he is a danger, it’s only to that company. I am glad to finally reach my housing development because I am starting to run my mind in circles.
I live in a pretty upscale development, even though it sits alone in the middle of miles of barren nothing. I wave hi to my next door neighbor, Miss Greta, the only person I know who would still be sitting on her front porch in weather like this. She waves back like I am just coming back from a Sunday morning stroll, slightly jouncing the tabby in her lap.
Finally making it to my own front door, I push my way inside. I live in a modern two story home that has much too much space for a single guy in his early twenties, like myself. But I am only technically house sitting for my best friend Arren. He insisted because, and I quote, ‘Wade, we need to get you out of your parent’s attic so you can start causing trouble.’ He’s a great friend and a decent landlord; he only makes me pay for my utilities while I am here. Benefits of befriending the rich and lazy.
I make my way over to the kitchen. The little guy reemerges from inside my hoodie and takes stock of his new environment. I unzip and set him down gently in my sink. As I rinse him off I notice several peculiar things. Most of the blackened patches are coming off on their own, revealing perfectly fine skin underneath. While I’m relieved that the damage isn’t as bad as it initially looked, I have no idea how it is possible for him to just shed off this burnt skin. The cut on his leg also looks a bit smaller than it did back by the bridge, but I suppose I could chalk that up to my imagination. Yeah, even I’m not buying that one; something weird is going on with this little guy’s healing. But he still has a cut, so I run to the bathroom to get my first aid kit. When I come back he has climbed out of the sink and is stalking his way over my countertop, exploring. As I watch him move about freely, I can really get a good look at him and confirm that he is truly unlike any animal I have ever seen or heard about.
Superficially, he looks like a theropod dinosaur, walking on his back feet with his arms pulled to his chest. But then when he wants to look at something higher up, he can rear back on his haunches till he is almost vertical, like a kangaroo. Then there’s that head, adorned with a rounded beak instead of teeth. He has light blue scales on the top and cream ones underneath and, as I move close to bandage his leg, I notice that he has weird red patches on his shins and forearms. They remind me most of the pads of a dog’s foot, but leathery and hard instead of spongy. His back, down to the tip of his tail is covered in bony bumps a lot like a crocodile. He is about the size of a large cat.
As I finish the final check of his bandages it occurs to me that at some point I started considering him a “he”. I can’t see any equipment of either kind, although I know some reptiles keep their stuff inside of them until use. But something about his mannerisms just gives me the feeling that he is a guy. Wait, back up, do I even know for sure he is a reptile? He seems pretty warm for something cold blooded. What about his diet; he has a beak, so do I feed him bird seed? I don’t even know how big he is going to get. And since he is technically not a domesticated animal and I did kind of just take him, legally I may be screwed if anyone finds out I’m keeping him.
I let out a sigh and rest my head in my hands. He comes over, tilts his head quizzically at me and chirps in question. I pat his head.
“I don’t even know what I should call you little guy.” Before he can reply there is a knock at my door. I look at him.
“You didn’t invite any friends over while I was gone did you?” He manages a pretty good deadpan stare.
“Just thought I would ask before shooing them away.” I leave him in the kitchen and make my way over to the front door. I’m really not in the mood for visitors so I just shout through the door.
“I don’t want any!” and hope they get the message. Then it occurs me that not many sales men go around hawking their wares in thunderstorms, so I decide to actually look through the peephole. I never make it that far.
I recognize the sound even over the din of the rain, a sound that I have heard in a hundred movies and TV shows. The sound of a gun being cocked.
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