95

You take a different route going back to your Land Rover. On the way, you come upon the shattered trunks of trampled saplings, some as thick as your leg. You back away and almost stumble into a pile of dinosaur dung that comes up to your knees. It's fresh enough that even blindfolded, your nose would have led you to it. White flecks catch your eye. Expecting to see partially digested plant stalks or seeds, you look closely.

It's peppered with crushed bone.

"Oh no!" Your voice is barely a whisper. Despite the afternoon heat, chills race up your spine. Rationally, you know this enormous dinosaur could be a scavenger; it could have consumed the bones of a dead creature. But rationality is powerless to stop your brain from screaming, "Red alert!"

Brett stands beside you, having gone pale and wild-eyed. "Don't say it," she commands.

No…you can't bring yourself to say "Tyrannosaurus rex."

You two draw together and look intensely around in all directions. Despite the oversize foliage, there's no way you could miss spotting a monster this big from a long way off. You begin searching for footprints among the broken trees strewn about, but the ground is too dry and rocky here to find any, and after ten minutes you give up. You have no idea which way the behemoth headed or how long ago. Somehow, nature's usual small rustling noises fail to soothe your jangled nerves.

How do you react to this development?