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PostPosted: Sat Mar 22, 2003 3:13 am 
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Ian & Sarah

Chapter 1: The Murmuring of the Mysterious

September 9th, 1993

"Sarah, help me with this will you?"

Sarah Harding turned away from the window. "What?"

"Where have you been," Michelle Alvarez asked, with a slight smile on her face. "You need to get out of here you know... Makena isn't going to wait for you, you know." She laughed.

"He's been patient all these years," Sarah laughed back, "and I think he can be patient a few more hours."

Outside, Sarah could hear the wind blowing in the leaves, and in the distance, the ocean. It was around 9:00PM, and the last sliver of sunlight could barely be seen beyond the trees. She listened to the leaves swaying, forgetting the room around her. Somewhere a phone rang and she heard Michelle say, "I'll be right back." Then the sound of her feet shuffling off into the other room.

Sarah yawned, rubbing her hands through her red hair. She was 32, still young in her opinion, and was visiting Costa Rica on a short stop. She had known Michelle for several years now, and had come to learn that Michelle (like herself) was medically inclined. But, unlike Michelle, Sarah was always out in the field. She mainly studied African predators, yet took the right precautions.

For now, she was just picking up a few supplies: Food, medical supplies, and water. Makena, her assistant, was waiting for her at the docks, where they would then deport to Africa. Sarah heard the door squeak open, and Michelle entered the room. "Sarah?"


"I have to go, I'll be back in a while. There's a chopper coming in. Guy needs immediate help."

"What for?"

"Don't know yet," Michelle said. "But it sounds bad. All we know for sure is that something's wrong with his leg. The people on the radio are saying it's infected, but I don't think they know what they're doing. We'll be able to see for ourselves when he gets here."

Sarah nodded.

"You can come if you want, but you'll probably have to wait before you can come in." Michelle smiled. "Hey, who knows. You might like the guy."

"How so?"

"He's American."

Sarah laughed, moving up from the chair at which she sat and following Michelle. They went to a lobby, where Sarah sat down in one of the crudely shaped chairs. It was oval, with no arm rests. Michelle could see Sarah was uncomfortable. "You know, I could get a chair from the other room that would better suit your needs."

"I'm fine."

"Sure," Michelle shook her head. "Sarah, you are one tough soul you know?"

"That's what I'm told."

They sat in silence for a moment, and Michelle laughed. Sarah smiled back. A man came out from the hallway, pushing open the door. "Dr. Alvarez?"

"Yes Miguel?"

"The guys on the radio just called again. They're a few minutes away."

"Ok," Michelle said, "start getting everything ready."

"I'm on it." Miguel, in his fifties, quickly nodded, darting back into the hallway and Sarah saw him bending his necks into other rooms. Her view was cut off as the door to the hallway closed, and Michelle's voice filled the room. "As for you Sarah..."

Sarah waited for Michelle to finish the sentence, but Michelle kept moving around until the distant thump of chopper blades could be heard. Michelle moved to the two sliding doors marking the entrance to the hospital.

Sarah watched her go outside, running down the small wooden plank which sat on the ground leading away towards the parking lot. It sat empty, with a few cars here or there. Mostly staff cars. Michelle stopped, looking upwards, and took several steps backwards.

She could see the chopper, (and hear it as well), landing several yards from the plank. As it landed, the blades pulled up sand and dust, which veiled the chopper. Sarah heard distant shouting and watched Michelle disappear into the veil, as the chopper blades continued to swing.


Michelle Alvarez coughed as she pushed through the sand cloud. Above her the blades made their continuous thumping sound, and she heard the sound of the chopper door slide open. A man shouted, and Michelle found herself standing in the open doorway.

"Dr. Alvarez," someone asked as she peered inside.

"Yes," she replied. "Hurry and bring the patient in." As another note, she added, "And turn the chopper off."

"Sorry doctor, we can't."

"Well, get him inside."

Seconds later, she was assisting pulling the gurney down. The man strapped to it was motionless, and dressed in black. As Michelle and the man, (who she would later find out that his name was Eric Dawson), pulled the gurney across the sand, she asked, "What's his name?"

Dawson replied, "Something Malcolm... Ira... Ivan... Ian! I think they were calling him Ian Malcolm."

Ian Malcolm? The name sounded familiar, but Michelle didn't have time to think about it. Dawson asked, "Know him?"

"No. Never seen him before in my life." She knew she had.

Ahead, Sarah was holding open the doors. They pushed the gurney into the lobby, and slid quickly past Sarah. Sarah first noticed the way the man's left leg obtrusively stuck out, and how his pants were dry and stained with blood.

"What in hell happened to him," she asked, with no answer.

Miguel greeted them at the hall door, and Michelle turned to Dawson. "You'll have to wait outside."

"Fine by me." He stepped away, letting go of the gurney.

Miguel helped Michelle get the gurney into the hallway, and before following, turned to Dawson and asked, "Was that his leg?"


Dawson went outside, onto the plank, and swung his arms over his head several times. As he came back in, Sarah could hear the thumping fading off into the distance. Dawson had a thin, blonde crewcut. He looked to Sarah as if he was in his mid-twenties, but he was really thirty-six. He moved next to Sarah, and asked, "May I sit down?"

"Go ahead."

"Thanks." Dawson plopped down onto the chair next to Sarah, the air escaping through the small mattress underneath his weight. There were no armrests, and he glanced at Sarah, who had her hands on her knees. "Uh, I'm Dawson. Eric Dawson. Nice to meet you."

"Hi." Sarah quickly shook his hand.

Dawson frowned, then laughed. "May I ask who you are?"

"Harding. Sarah Harding." Sarah said. Before Dawson could reply, she asked, "Who was that?"

"The people with him before we picked him up said his name was Ian Malcolm."

"Where'd you pick him up?"

Dawson mentally sighed, knowing this would turn into a conversation that shouldn't be talked about, especially because it didn't revolve around him. "We picked him up on one of the off-shore islands."

"Which one?"

"I don't know. Some funky Spanish name, like the rest of them."

"Cocos Island? Isla Pena?"

"No. Isla... Nublar."

"Isla Nublar?"


"What happened to him? The other people?"

"I don't know. One chopper picked all the other people, including this guy. Seemed like everyone was in a hurry to get off the island. Supposedly, he was fine during the flight back to Costa Rica, but when they landed he said the pain flared up, and then just passed out. We picked him up and rushed him here."

"Why'd everyone leave the island?"

"Tropical storm probably."

"No one told you why?"

"Not a soul."

"And the island? Do you know anything about it?"

"Supposedly it's one of the privately owned islands. One of the big biotechnology companies bought it a few years back in the 80's, and since then have kept busy on that island. Many locals have been there, to help do work. Of course they got paid, but then there were the few that got injured, sometimes killed during construction. The company supposedly covered it up by saying they were just machinery accidents, but some of the doctors who said that the deaths looked caused by animal attacks." He paused, trying to remember the company's name. "InGen I think it's called. Run by some rich, old guy."

"I think I've heard of them before."

"Oh, have you? How nice."


Inside the operating room, Michelle has undone the straps holding Malcolm to the gurney. He had remained silent, frozen. Dead. But he wasn't. Michelle could feel a small pulse in his neck, but nowhere else. They had barely any time.

"Miguel, undo the bandage around his leg."

Miguel, just "a tad nervous", placed his hands on Malcolm's left leg, and felt around. He pulled out a small blade, big enough just to cut the thick wrap of the bandage, and began to slice through the middle. Twice he got stuck, the blade getting caught in the blood and bandage, and eventually he could see enough of the gash so he was not sure what was flesh and what was bandage.

When he finished, he set the blade aside, and carefully pulled the bandage to both sides. Part of it rested on his right leg, while the other hung over the bar of the gurney, slowly dripping blood onto the tiled cement.

Miguel had told Michelle that they had to move him to an operating table, but Michelle had replied by saying, "It's too dangerous to move him. The gurney is fine enough. We move him, we may lose him, and I don't want to take that chance. He's right on the edge anyway."

Now Miguel was staring at the gash in Malcolm's leg. To him, it seemed more than a gash, and it looked as if it had just been blasted open. Malcolm's flesh was peeled back everywhere, revealing a sickening twist of bone, snapped in the center. More than just your regular fracture, he thought.

Michelle returned, and inspected Malcolm's leg. She prodded the part of the bone, which wiggled too easily. Miguel asked, "What are we going to do?"

"First, we need to clean his leg, we don't want infection. Get that bandage out from under his leg for sure. Then, we'll have to set the bone, and clean up again. Once we're sure it's set, we'll restitch the skin he still has left. We might have to cover it, because I know at least half of it is missing."

"Got it." Miguel began to lift up Malcolm's leg slowly, but asked, "What do you think did this?"

Michelle looked up at him. "I don't know Miguel. This is very irregular. I've never seen anything like this before. Something obviously must have dug it's way into the skin, and just pulled it around for a bit. The bone is twisted, so he must've fallen and cracked it, or something else knocked him around."


"I don't think a human had any part to play in this injury," she spoke softly. "Except himself."

"Then what did this?"

"We'll find out, when our patient wakes up." She stood straight again, as Miguel slowly put his hand under Malcolm's leg, gripping the bandage and tugging it. Through the gloves he was wearing, he could feel the bandages damp surface. As he pulled it away, and got a full view of it, he could see that it was still wet with blood, sweat, and dirt. "Get it out of here." Michelle motioned for the biohazard can.

Miguel moved towards the can, used the foot paddle to open the lid, and dropped it in. He heard it land at the bottom of the near-empty bag, and seemed a little happier to be rid of the God-awful thing.

Michelle asked, "What's up with you?"

"Oh, nothing." Miguel said as he came back.

"You seem to be glad you got rid of it."

"Yeah, so? It stunk."

"Of course it did. What were you expecting, the smell of a rose garden? You're a doctor Miguel. You're supposed to be used to it."

"But that was different. The smell coming off of it was... Inhuman."

"Well, at least it's gone now. Let's clean his leg up."

Miguel scuffled over. "What should we use to clean it? Alcohol?"

"No, we aren't cleaning the inside yet. I fear if we do we may damage it, the way it is. Clean the outside, as close as you can get to the gash itself."

Miguel took the cleaning wipes Michelle had set out on the table cart. He carefully wiped away as much blood as he could around the gash. The blood seemed to go on forever up and down his leg, but after several minutes, much of the blood was gone, revealing dozens of dark, purple bruises covering his leg. Jesus.

"Done?" Michelle asked.

"Uh," Miguel stuttered, "yeah. I guess I am."

"Good. Now we have to set it."

"I didn't mention it earlier, but how are you going to set it? By hand?"

"I'm going to have to." Michelle has been preparing for this while Miguel had been cleaning Malcolm's leg. She took a deep breath, and watched the heart monitor she had set up. "You know something?" She put her hands on the bone.

"No, what?"

"This guy might actually..." There was a popping noise, and the heart monitor began to race. Miguel shouted, "He's coming back?"

"He's going to be in a world of pain if he wakes up!"

Michelle yelled. Her arms slid away from Malcolm's leg as Malcolm shot upwards. "Get me out of here!" Michelle thought Miguel had yelled it, but she saw he had been watching Malcolm. Malcolm shouted again, "They're coming! They're breaking through!"

"Mr. Malcolm calm down!" Michelle tried to say, but she couldn't move her mouth. Malcolm rolled on the bed, and smacked away at the rail on the side of the gurney. It swung down, banging against the side of the gurney itself, and Malcolm rolled off.

A streak of thick blood matted on the gurney as Malcolm slid off. He landed on his chest, and he knocked over the cart. Miguel jumped away as it hit the ground, the contents on top scattering over the ground.


Sarah stood up as she heard a crash. Dawson asked, "What was that?"

Sarah, ignoring him, pushed her way through the doors into the hallway. She ran to the end, turning into the operating room. She stopped, seeing Michelle and Miguel watching the man on the floor. He was babbling, and Sarah could hardly make out what he was saying.

Behind him, she could see that a cart had been knocked over, and everything on it had been thrown all over. Malcolm shouted and never noticed that Sarah was there. "Raptors! Raptors! They're loose! John call the chopper! They're LOOSE!!"

Sarah heard Dawson running down the hallway, and a moment later he was standing beside her, his gaze on Malcolm. Malcolm seemed to feel no pain, even though his leg was banging against the cement.

His foot kicked out, catching against the gurney. He yelled, "Chaos on the edge! Chaos on the edge!" There was a screech, and as he began to yell the Chaos Chorus again, he looked up as the gurney fell on top of him.

The heart monitor stopped beeping, and slowly returned to normal after a while. By then, Miguel had found many of the contents that had been spilled after the cart had fallen; Michelle had uprighted the gurney, and had helped Sarah and Dawson lift Malcolm back up.

"Pulse has returned to stable," Michelle said aloud, to no one in particular.

"What a mess." Dawson looked down at the floor. Malcolm's blood has smeared and made sickening drag marks on the cement.

Michelle laughed, "It's a living."

Dawson turned around and Sarah heard him mutter something, as he stepped into the hallway. They listened as his footsteps faded, and the door to the lobby shut. Michelle asked, "Why didn't he leave?"

Sarah shrugged. "Right after Mr. Malcolm came in, he went outside and waved the chopper off. Seems like he's going to stay awhile."

"If he even thinks of coming back here, give him hell Sarah. I don't like him, and I want to know why he's still here before I tell him anything about the patient's condition."

From down the hall, Dawson shouted, "Do you mind if I use your phone?"

Michelle waved her hand, dismissing the question.


Michelle rolled her eyes. "Tell him he can."

Sarah went to the door and yelled out, "Go ahead."


Dawson quickly went around the desk, reaching for the phone that sat in plain view. He picked it up, dialing with one finger, and waited. After several rings, he heard the phone pick up on the other end. "Hello? Who am I speaking to?"

Dawson replied, "It's me, Eric."

"Eric Dawson?"


"How's Malcolm?"

"He's, uh, fine I guess. He just woke up and went into spasm-attacks or something. Muttering stuff about chaos and," he lowered his voice, "raptors."

"Did anyone suspect anything?"

"Not by the looks on their faces. They were all too busy worrying about how he would hurt his leg more."

"Are you sure he's alright?"

"Don't worry."

"Has he said anything else?"

"Not that I know of."

"Right now, everyone thinks he's dead. That's the word, since you picked him up and no one has heard anything of him since. We'll leave it that way for now." The man on the other end took a breath. "Remember, if he wakes up again, don't let him say too much. You know what to do if it gets... Out of hand."


"You enjoy what little time you have left in Costa Rica Eric..."

Dawson laughed, and the man continued on, "... And who you work for. Malcolm's the only chance we have, so don't let anything happen to him."


"Good-bye Eric." Dawson heard the phone click on the other end, and slowly put the phone down again.

Dawson scratched his forehead, and began to pace back and forth across the lobby.


"Good-bye Eric," the second man said, and as she heard the other two phones click, Sarah set down hers. She stepped out of the back room, re-entering the operating room. Michelle asked, "Eavesdropping?"

Sarah stared at Malcolm's face, as Michelle worked with his leg. "They want him."


"Mr. Malcolm here."

"Who wants him?"

"The man that Eric Dawson guy was talking to. He said that Malcolm was valuable, and told Mr. Dawson not to let anything happen to him."

"In my hands," Michelle said, as she moved the bone, "he'll be fine."

"That's not what I..." She stopped. Malcolm's mouth opened.

Miguel whispered, "God, not again."

Michelle said, "Don't worry, he's just coming back. He probably won't enter one of his fits again, but if he does we'll have to put him to deep sleep."

Malcolm let a dry sound come out of his mouth. His eyes remained closed, and he said, "Rex. It's not that bad John... They're loose, raptors here... Rex there... They're everywhere. Dr. Grant, Dr. Satler... They're fine, right?... John?" They watched as he broke quickly into a sweat.

Miguel glanced over at Michelle, "What's causing this?"

"Bad dreams," Michelle answered. "He's reliving an event that caused much worry in him."

"What could it be?"

"Ask him when he comes around fully."

After a few minutes, (and more mumbling by Malcolm), Sarah asked, "Is he going to be ok?"

"He'll be fine. I'm almost done." There was a pop, and Malcolm grunted. Michelle pulled her hands away from his leg, and nodded.

"Are we done?" Miguel asked.

"Almost. We're going to have to clean it, then stitch it, and finally cast it."


An hour or so later, Dawson stood up. Michelle stepped out from the hallway and Dawson asked, "He ok?"

"Mr. Malcolm," Michelle said, "is perfectly fine. He's partially under right now, and we just got done stitching his leg up. Miguel is casting it right now."

"Is he... Speaking?"

"Mumbling mostly. Nothing he says makes sense."

Dawson nodded. "What has he said though? Any names?"

"Uh," Michelle said, thinking, "he's said John a lot. Along with 'Dr. Grant' and 'Dr. Satler'. Some other names, but I don't remember them much."

"Anything else?"

"Other weird names... Like raptors... Rexes... Names that make absolutely no sense."


"Listen," Michelle said, impatiently, "I don't know much, nearly anything, about this Mr. Ian Malcolm. I don't know where he's been, what he's saying, or anything else about him. Now, he's better, and he's going to live, but don't ask me questions unless it's related to his well-being."

"Fine," Dawson said, "I won't."

"Good," Michelle said, as she returned into the hallway and began her was back to the operating room.

As she walked in, Sarah looked up from Malcolm. "Scare him away yet?"

Michelle snorted, "I wish."

Sarah laughed, and glanced at her watch. "Oh jeez."

"What?" Michelle asked, rinsing her hands in the sink. Miguel had his arm under a table, groping around for a capsule. As Sarah began to walk away from Malcolm, he coughed. Sarah replied, "I really ought to be going. Makena is probably screaming at the captain to keep the boat from leaving."

"Well," Michelle said, "you are just a tad late."

Sarah grabbed her pack, which was sitting against the wall. "It's been fun."

"It has."

"Bye Miguel!" Sarah waved to Miguel, who sat up, and waved back. "Good luck," he replied.

"You too," Sarah said, with a smile. "Tell me about Mr. Malcolm when you can Michelle. Pretty interesting if you ask me."

"Don't worry, I will."

They waved, and without another word, Sarah left. As she passed through the lobby, Dawson watched her, and she ignored him. He stood up, as she passed through the doors and out onto the platform.

Around her, the cool night air helped her relax. She moved down the platform, the wood creaking under her every footstep. She listened to the waves lapping up on the shore, and the ruffling of the leaves nearby.

Soon she came to the cement, and the creaking was left behind her. She moved around to the driver's side of her jeep, and dropped her pack in the back, before slipping in. As she pulled away from the parking spot, she gave another glance to the entrance of the hospital.

Eric Dawson watched Sarah's jeep slip away from the parking lot and away from view, from the platform.


Several hours after Sarah had left, and Dawson had fallen asleep on the couch in the lobby, Miguel yawned. It was almost three o' clock in the morning, as Michelle said, "Look at the time. You can go home. Nothing's happening around here."

"Are you sure?"


Miguel stood up, stretching as he got up from the stool he had begun to nod off on. "You got it handled around here?"

"I'm fine."

"Ok then." Miguel stretched again, moving over to the staff room door to grab his jacket off the hooks. He slipped it in, inserting his fingers into the pockets and fumbling with the car keys. "Good night."

Michelle nodded. "Wait, before you go, don't go out the lobby doors. I don't trust that guy out there."

"Ok." Miguel walked across the hall, passing through a door, and gave a final wave to Michelle.

Michelle sat in silence, listening to Malcolm's breath escaping through the few cracks in his mouth. The cast on his leg had fully hardened, and Michelle was hoping he'd wake up so she could leave.

Then she decided to check on Dawson.

She entered the hallway, her shoes clapping against the tile below her, echoing throughout the hall. Ahead of her, the two push doors sat, and she fumbled in her pocket for the keys to lock them.

She walked up, and glanced through the window. She first looked at the couch, and Dawson was gone. She could see his shape beginning to fade away from the leather in the couch.

The keys slipped from her hands as a blood-curling shriek came from the shore outside. "Miguel!"

She pushed her way through the doors, running straight through the entrance doors to the platform. She screamed, putting her hand over her mouth in shock. A body lay on the sand several yards away, and she immediately knew who it was. "Miguel!"

Michelle began to run to him, but felt a hand clasp her shoulder. She screamed again, and heard Dawson's voice. That cold, evil voice, she would later think of it as she turned to run. "He heard too much."

"Get away!" She kicked Dawson, as she turned to run back for the door, his hand slipping away from her shoulder. He bent over, backing away, but quickly followed.

She ran through the lobby, and then through the hall, towards the operating room, where if she could lock herself in she'd be safe, with the radio to call for help. All would be fine. Dawson would get arrested, Miguel would be saved.

If he isn't already dead.

As she entered the operating room, Dawson yelled, "You know too much now! You heard too much! You aren't getting away!"

Michelle turned to lock the door, grabbing it from it's open position, but immediately staggers back as it opens again as Dawson pushes his way in. "Get out of here, now," she screams, nearly toppling Malcolm and the gurney over. Although she doesn't hear it, Malcolm whispers, "Chaos on the edge."

Dawson moved forward, and Malcolm's heart meter slowly begin to race once more. Michelle watches as Dawson's hand slips over the cart, grabbing a scalpel. She sees the glint from the light off the cool metal, and Dawson lunges forward.

As he passes Malcolm's gurney, Malcolm shouts. Dawson stops, turning immediately and swinging only inches above Malcolm's face. His eyes open wide, and he shouts, "Trikes!"

"What the hell?"

The gurney toppled sideways, tipping on it's side as Malcolm pushed over. Dawson cursed, as the gurney fell over, knocking him back into the cart. Michelle jumps, as Dawson screams. The scalpel wedges itself through his leg as his hand slips under his leg before he hits the ground. Malcolm continues to shake, attached to the gurney. She watches as his face becomes bright red.

Dawson stops moving, and Michelle thinks he has passed out. "Mr. Malcolm? Calm down, calm down."

What am I saying? I should calm down... Get the hell out of here.

She pulls the gurney back up, slipping Dawson's other leg out from under it as she does so. It's bruised, maybe even broken by the looks of it, but she doesn't care. Malcolm stops moving, the monitor returning to normal.

Michelle bends over Malcolm, "You chose the right time to have one of your spaz attacks, that's for sure. Thanks."

For a second, Malcolm's mouth open, and a slight sandy whistle comes out. But Michelle is gone before Malcolm's eyes open up again and he looks around.


When Michelle would return to the operating room twenty minutes later, with Miguel being rushed to another hospital several miles away, and the sound of two police cars' sirens outside, she would find Malcolm asleep.

The cart would be against a wall, and the desks cluttered. Here and there would be needles, gauze, or what have you. The two sinks on opposite sides of the room will both be running; the biohazard trash cans splattered on the floor, (mixed in the fray of trash would be Malcolm's bandage, which Miguel had eagerly thrown away only hours earlier, into the biohazard can a few yards away from where the bandage itself would be found.). She will see that many of the drawers have been pulled out, a few thrown against the walls.

Two of the lamps in the room will be smashed, one resting against the ground. As the cops came into the lobby, she would hear them speaking in surprise as they saw the leather chairs torn apart by what they thought was a machete, or some amazing creature from beyond.

The stool that Miguel had placed next to Malcolm's gurney would also be gone. When the inspection of the office itself was underway, they'd find it inside one of the dumpster's a hundred yards away from the hospital, and Dawson's footprint's in the sand leading only a few feet more. (He had made no effort to try and cover them up)

Yet the cops would never find the scalpel that had been in Dawson's leg, and Michelle would never remember to bring it up. Eric Dawson was gone, (if Eric Dawson was his real name, she would probably never find out), and she though they'd never find him again.

As the cops would begin inspection, and Michelle Alvarez would leave after a seventeen minute interrogation, Ian Malcolm would wake up, asking the cops if they had seen the "red-haired angel" he had seen. The cops would spend what time Malcolm was awake trying to better know who and what this "red-haired angel" was, before Malcolm closed his eyes, ignoring the cops, and fell asleep.

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sat Mar 22, 2003 4:05 am 
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Joined: Sun Nov 10, 2002 9:41 pm
Posts: 1421
Excellent story! Can't wait for part II!

The Supreme Lurker

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sat Mar 22, 2003 4:54 am 
I haven't finished reading it yet and I already like your story very much. Good work! :)

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sat Mar 22, 2003 4:51 pm 
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Joined: Mon Nov 11, 2002 4:14 pm
Posts: 490
Thanks guys. :)

 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sat Mar 22, 2003 5:24 pm 
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Joined: Mon Nov 11, 2002 4:14 pm
Posts: 490
I can tell you know, Chapter 2 is currently labeled, 'Startling News and Panthera Leo'... Although it may change, that's what I think I'll be sticking to...

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