The camp was a wreck. The Jayhawk had flown around the island till it found the hunter's campsite. It then returned to the challenger and refueled before dropping Little bear, Taylor, and myself off at the campsite. I surveyed the damage. They had ripped several tents to shreds; a flatbed truck lay on its side. A horrible stench permeated the air. We searched for the source and found the butchered corpse of a triceratops.

Taylor walked over to the corpse, examining it. "Looks like they chopped the fella up. And then scavengers must have helped themselves to the rest."

Speaking of scavengers, I could see the little green dinosaurs just beyond the fence. They hopped about, chirping and waving their arms in agitation. it was then I caught sight of a bulldozer plugging a break in the fence that surrounded the camp. The first thing I noticed were the large footprints on the ground. LB joined me in my examination.

"Not good boss." He looked about, then looked at the jungle beyond. "Whatever did this is bigger than the Rex."

"Are you sure?" I asked him.

"Very sure. I remember the rex tracks from last year. This is bigger." He turned and pointed to the destroyed fence. "Meaner too."

“That’s a problem,” Taylor commented. "Might be that the hunters and their party are already dead."

“There are some human tracks that lead off into the forest.” LB pointed to the ominous trees beyond the fence. “Without my dogs, it’s going to be next to be difficult to find the hunters."

Bringing LBs dogs would have been an immense help, but I knew they were like family to him. Out here in this place, there were too many things that would try to eat them. Even if LB will risk, it would be better overall not to have them. Besides. This time, we had some help.

I held up a GPS tracker. “We have some help. Mark Mason kept a GPS tracker on him for his wife’s sake, for just such an incident. We track him with this, secure him, and his friends if any survived, and call for extraction.”

“Mr. Callahan, would you do the honors?” I held out the GPS to him. He took the device from me and studied it.

“Well, we’re in luck. According to this, they’re not that far from us. I guess they stayed close in case of a rescue.”

“Sounds like they're smart men,” LB commented.

“Not that smart. They tried to hunt demons in hell.” I retorted.

"I’m a hunter myself. I understand the appeal." LB said. “Regardless, let’s get them quickly so we can get out of here.”

“Agreed,” Taylor said, and without another word, he led the way into the prehistoric jungle.

Taylor led us through the jungle until we came to what must have been a service road at some point. It was overgrown and you could just barely make out the fact that a road had been there. We followed the road as it went up the side of a cliff. We passed several switchbacks on the way up. The road eventually stopped at a small plateau. Following the GPS led us to a radio station. It was a square building with the INGEN logo on one wall. The radio tower stretched thirty feet into the air and had multiple dishes on it. The building looked run down and covered with green creeper.

Surrounding the building was a makeshift palisade. I was appreciating their resourcefulness when I noticed some of the large wooden stakes had blood on them. Good to know the barrier worked. I could see parts of the roof had old rusty barbed wire around it. They attached the wire to the wooden stakes, adding another layer of protection. I had to give it to these two. Even if they are entitled thrill-seekers, they were resourceful.

We walked around the palisade and found a little gate made from rusty iron pipes reinforced with thick wooden branches and plywood in some places. Just inside the gate, I could see several strings with old cans attached.

"Nice warning bells," I remarked.

Sticking the barrel of my rifle through and opening in the gate, I rattled the cans, making an acceptable amount of noise, hoping to get their attention.

Beyond the gate, a door on the side of the building opened and two men stepped out, rifles raised. Both looked ragged, with a week's worth of growth on their faces. They looked thin but not malnourished. When they noticed us both men looked relieved? One man stayed by the door, his gun still raised on the alert while the other came and let us in. They ushered us quickly into the building hastily.

They bolted the door behind us, rearming several traps.

Inside, the building was spacious, with several computer terminals and a server room just beyond. One man lit several crudely made lanterns to give the room more illumination. I could see a pair of crude hammocks that they must have made themselves. In another corner, I could see what looked like a kitchen area. old propane tanks hooked up to stove burners. It looked like they gutted a stove and resembled the parts they needed.

These men were blowing my mind with their ingenuity. How could men so smart have done something so stupid?

“Are you men here to get us out of here?” One of them asked us. Now that we were closer, I could see it was Isaac Connor. That meant the other was Mark Mason.

“Yes, your wives sent us to get you out of here.” I radioed for the chopped to pick us up and turned my attention to the others. “Alright, gentlemen, why don’t you tell us what happened?”