Escape From Dinosauria (Dinopocalypse Book 1) by Vincenzo Bilof, Max Booth III Page B

never coming back, though it would be dishonorable and disloyal. There was work to be done. Important work. The burden on his shoulders was heavy, but he would have to bear the weight because nobody else could.
    This was his duty.
    “What are we even doing?” Doctor Israel asked. “We’re stuck here. Can’t do shit. And we’ve talked about this. Over and over again. Every single damn day. You think we’re going to save the world? You think the girl’s going to help us? I’m watching these monitors and I see what’s happening out there. I can feel them, man. I made them. They’re mine. And I ask what we’re trying to do. I ask what you think we can do about it, and I get the same stupid answer every damn time.”
    “Do you want that same stupid answer now, Doctor Israel?”
    “You always bothered me, man. Always. Always thought you were a creepy-looking bastard. Weird as fuck, too.”
    “You have said this. Many times.”
    “That’s right. Many times. I say it every day. We both say the same thing every day. But I don’t need you. You think Kresevich is gonna kill me? You ain’t protecting me. Nope. I can make a deal with Kresevich right now.”
    Kenshin breathed calmly.
    “You got nothing? Nothing to say, ninja man? Not gonna tell me Kresevich wants to kill me? He don’t need me, right? He needs me dead is what he needs. That what you’re gonna say?”
    Kenshin closed his eyes. He tried to hear the birdsong outside, above them.
    But the winged beasts that populated the sky and trees outside were not birds. They were Doctor Israel’s creations.
    There was always this part of him that wondered if it would be easier to simply kill Doctor Israel before doing the honorable thing for himself. To prevent Kresevich from killing Israel…even though the young scientist was the only hope that Kenshin could depend on.
    It was the idea of hope. Doctor Israel couldn’t do anything by himself. He needed help.
    Doubt. As much as he didn’t want to listen to the young man, Kenshin felt the seeds of doubt growing within his heart. The idea gestated within him and threatened to bloom within his mind.
    Doctor Israel sat down on the cavern floor, hands hanging between his thighs, head down.
    “There’s no reason to stay with you,” Doctor Israel said. “Can’t think of one. Can’t do it.”
    Kenshin had never been an empathic person, and now he was left with a world of ruins that he helped create. What good was loyalty if the man to whom he was loyal had died? Too often he blamed himself for hesitating; if he had confessed his suspicions to Tanaka sooner, this disaster might have been prevented.
    But it was no use to dwell on the past. The past hurt. The past was an invisible enemy, one that he could not strike down with his sword.
     
    3
     
    Kenshin woke up still seated beside the console. He preferred sleeping while sitting, one hand wrapped around the handle of his katana like an infant might hug a stuffed bear. It kept him on his guard. If one of Kresevich’s men discovered his hideout and stumbled inside, Kenshin would be ready. If one of those gods of beasts happened upon his scent and tore through the walls, Kenshin would be ready.
    Kenshin would always be ready.
    Doctor Israel had yet to return from his weekly temper tantrum. Kenshin was used to these fits of rage. He also understood them. Doctor Israel was still young. He’d had a harsh upbringing. No kid should have so much weight on his shoulders. But Doctor Israel was not like typical nineteen year olds. He possessed the brain of a genius. A man bred for science, like his beasts were bred for warfare. At least, that’s what Doctor Israel would be breeding them for if Kresevich ever captured him. Kenshin would not allow that to happen. Tanaka might have been dead, but his vision would live on with Doctor Israel. Kenshin would protect the vision with his life. He would never stop serving Tanaka.
    If that meant eventually thrusting his katana through