98

You've got bragging rights as the first person to bag a kazoo-head. You made that difficult shot.

As you drift off to sleep, what do you find yourself thinking?



Dragging yourself up from a sound sleep in the pitch dark, you stumble over tree roots as you and Brett await dawn and today's dinosaurs. With a yawn, you grumble, "Can't believe I actually suggested we do this."

"We'll see a pretty sunrise," Brett says. "Now hush. Some critter could happen along any minute."

Or not. After a week's worth of yawns in the next hour, you're ready to pack it in. "Wherever the dinosaurs go for their morning coffee, it isn't here. Still, we have made a significant discovery."

"What's that?"

"We discovered that Cretaceous dinosaurs aren't morning people."

Brett chuckles. "Time to hit the road and head over to the…launch site."

Launch site—you appreciate her euphemism. You're anxious to get to the pterosaurs' nest, where you landed, before the thirty-minute window opens at noon. Even if you don't leave today, caution pushes you to make sure that there are no impediments to doing so, such as any surviving pterosaurs reoccupying their roost.

As you drive, you give more thought to staying in dinosaur territory versus going back home.

You sigh and talk things over with Brett.