get sore and he was feeling light-headed with all the excitement and praise.
“So that’s Christy with a Y, Alex not Alec, Tommy, Bobby, and Jim,” Eric said. They all nodded happily.
To the youngest, Eric wrote, “Read and all your dreams will come true.”
More fans arrived. Questions poured in.
A ten-year-old girl asked what it was like to see Compsognathus up close. She loved the little chicken-sized dinosaurs. An eight-year-old boy with freckles wanted to know what a T. rex smelled like. A ton of teenagers asked about raptors. An elderly couple wondered if any pre- historic marine life had been replicated on Isla Sorna.
Eric had to keep it brief because of the long lines, but he did his best to answer all the questions. When he had been lost for eight weeks on Isla Sorna, the only place on the planet where dinosaurs existed, he never once thought his experiences would help him to become a celebrity. But after appearing on
Good Morning America,
Oprah,
and
60 Minutes,
he was having to come to terms with his new status.
“So when’s the next book out?” a young redhead wearing a University of California sweatshirt asked.
That one took Eric by surprise. Sure, his publisher had been after him for a sequel, but he hadn’t been asked by readers before.
“No sequels,” his mother said. “Dealing with those things once was plenty, thanks.”
Eric nodded. He actually did have more stories to tell, but he had promised Dr. Grant that he would not write about any of the research under way on the island.
Suddenly, a steady murmur moved through the crowd.
Jeff looked to the storefront window. “Something’s going on outside.”
A scream sliced through the crowd outside and the customers inside panicked.
Eric leaped onto the table so he could see over the window displays. A pale amber streak whipped down from above and seemed to attack someone on the street. Then a thing with a twenty-foot wingspan crashed through the heavy window and bowled over a display case.
It was a Pteranodon! One of the three that had flown from Isla Sorna when Eric had been airlifted from the island.
Screeee-eeeee!
Eric froze. He saw people hurling themselves through the broken window and more running wildly through the streets. Some snuck into the bagel shop or the chiropractor’s office next door, while others tried to reach their cars.
Two more Pteranodons circled outside. It was only a matter of time before one came down and snatched up a human with its talons, or tore at one with its long, sharp beak. Cars collided or went head to head as drivers veered off into opposing traffic to escape the flyers dive-bombing their windshields. Eric heard a screech of brakes and saw a Toyota run up the sidewalk and smash into a lamppost.
The Pteranodons shrieked in triumph, but then their tone changed. Their new cries were all too familiar to Eric. They had tired of games. Now they wanted to eat!
Eric had to do something. Everyone was staring at him. They wanted him to tell them what to do, how to survive. He couldn’t. Looking into the eyes of the predator who had burst into the store, he felt powerless. All he could think of was the moment he had run from a creature just like this, the way it had caught him, dragging him high into the air, exerting absolute control over him.
The booksellers hurled hardcovers at the flyer’s head, but were swept out of the way by the Pteranodon’s strong wings. Eric’s mother hauled him off the table and kicked it over, creating a barrier between them and the predator. But with a single leap it was over the table and on them.
This time, the scream came from Eric’s lips.
Eric bolted forward in his chair, desperately gasping in terror.
“Honey?” his mother asked. She sat next to him on the plane, her warm eyes filled with concern.
“I’m okay,” Eric said, reassuring himself as much as his mother. He looked down at his hands, which were
not
covered in scratches from whipping talons. He felt
“So that’s Christy with a Y, Alex not Alec, Tommy, Bobby, and Jim,” Eric said. They all nodded happily.
To the youngest, Eric wrote, “Read and all your dreams will come true.”
More fans arrived. Questions poured in.
A ten-year-old girl asked what it was like to see Compsognathus up close. She loved the little chicken-sized dinosaurs. An eight-year-old boy with freckles wanted to know what a T. rex smelled like. A ton of teenagers asked about raptors. An elderly couple wondered if any pre- historic marine life had been replicated on Isla Sorna.
Eric had to keep it brief because of the long lines, but he did his best to answer all the questions. When he had been lost for eight weeks on Isla Sorna, the only place on the planet where dinosaurs existed, he never once thought his experiences would help him to become a celebrity. But after appearing on
Good Morning America,
Oprah,
and
60 Minutes,
he was having to come to terms with his new status.
“So when’s the next book out?” a young redhead wearing a University of California sweatshirt asked.
That one took Eric by surprise. Sure, his publisher had been after him for a sequel, but he hadn’t been asked by readers before.
“No sequels,” his mother said. “Dealing with those things once was plenty, thanks.”
Eric nodded. He actually did have more stories to tell, but he had promised Dr. Grant that he would not write about any of the research under way on the island.
Suddenly, a steady murmur moved through the crowd.
Jeff looked to the storefront window. “Something’s going on outside.”
A scream sliced through the crowd outside and the customers inside panicked.
Eric leaped onto the table so he could see over the window displays. A pale amber streak whipped down from above and seemed to attack someone on the street. Then a thing with a twenty-foot wingspan crashed through the heavy window and bowled over a display case.
It was a Pteranodon! One of the three that had flown from Isla Sorna when Eric had been airlifted from the island.
Screeee-eeeee!
Eric froze. He saw people hurling themselves through the broken window and more running wildly through the streets. Some snuck into the bagel shop or the chiropractor’s office next door, while others tried to reach their cars.
Two more Pteranodons circled outside. It was only a matter of time before one came down and snatched up a human with its talons, or tore at one with its long, sharp beak. Cars collided or went head to head as drivers veered off into opposing traffic to escape the flyers dive-bombing their windshields. Eric heard a screech of brakes and saw a Toyota run up the sidewalk and smash into a lamppost.
The Pteranodons shrieked in triumph, but then their tone changed. Their new cries were all too familiar to Eric. They had tired of games. Now they wanted to eat!
Eric had to do something. Everyone was staring at him. They wanted him to tell them what to do, how to survive. He couldn’t. Looking into the eyes of the predator who had burst into the store, he felt powerless. All he could think of was the moment he had run from a creature just like this, the way it had caught him, dragging him high into the air, exerting absolute control over him.
The booksellers hurled hardcovers at the flyer’s head, but were swept out of the way by the Pteranodon’s strong wings. Eric’s mother hauled him off the table and kicked it over, creating a barrier between them and the predator. But with a single leap it was over the table and on them.
This time, the scream came from Eric’s lips.
Eric bolted forward in his chair, desperately gasping in terror.
“Honey?” his mother asked. She sat next to him on the plane, her warm eyes filled with concern.
“I’m okay,” Eric said, reassuring himself as much as his mother. He looked down at his hands, which were
not
covered in scratches from whipping talons. He felt
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