Patience

                She stood in the passenger seat, loading her gun as Amal drove. The man in the back screamed as Amal jerked the wheel to the left, barely scraping past a fallen tree. “Keep your head down, Mr. Erickson!” she called to the man, snapping the barrel of her gun back into place. “I don’t want to remove it by accident!” The man shifted down lower, wrapping his arms around his head and mumbling under his breath. In moments like this, every second was precious and could be the barrier between life and death. But in this situation, she determined that it was worth it to let one quick eye roll fly before leveling the gun out the back of the jeep.

                She had heard it said that if one was in a moving automobile during an earthquake, it would be impossible to tell because of the movement of the automobile. It was impossible to say if she had ever believed it or not—it seemed both logical and as though it were an old wives’ tale, after all—but she knew that the footfalls of the big game that she sought out day after day were made still by the rumbling of the jeep’s engine. This creature’s steps, however, did not. Each footfall reverberated through her chest, making some primal part within her want to scream. But she had not lived her life fleeing rather than fighting, and she would not allow this creature to get the better of her.

                As she turned her head towards Amal—perhaps to ask a question or comment on the speed—two things happened. First, a terrifying sound came from the trees behind them as birds erupted from the growth, squawking in their fear; second, the world inverted itself, seemingly in response to the commotion. She had seconds to pull in her gun as they tumbled, making sure it didn’t discharge. The man in the back—Erickson—screamed louder than he had before. The crash was loud enough; the creature didn’t need the added help of the screams.

                It was all she could do to grab the man’s collar and jump out of the vehicle. She pulled him behind a large rock—likely the one Amal had attempted to swerve around. Her teeth ground together as she commanded the pricking in her eyes to stop. Amal had been a good friend and an even better guide. It was a shame that he had gone like this. It wasn’t right.

                “This is it,” the man said, and she turned to look at him. His eyes were wide, staring down into the dirt as if there were so much more there that she was unable to see. “This is it, isn’t it?”

                “Nonsense.” She leveled her gun at the top of the boulder, waiting for the creature to emerge. “I’ve plenty of life I’ve yet to live, Mr. Erickson. I don’t intend to end that here.”

                “This is all my fault,” he whispered, hands tangled in his dark hair. “If I had just stuck it out and stayed there with Sarah, this wouldn’t have happened.” A manic giggle escaped his lips and she fought the urge to slap him, fearing that he may make more noise if she did.

                “Mr. Erickson—“

                “And now,” he said, starting to shake, “now I may never see her again. This was so stupid. Why did I—“

                “Mr. Erickson!” she hissed, grabbing the front of his shirt and forcing him to look in her eyes. “I understand that your wife is precious to you, but it would serve both of us well if you would kindly shut up.”

                She let go of him and he flopped onto the ground in shock. He couldn’t believe that she would be so rough with him, especially when their lives were on the line.

                “So,” he whispered as she scanned the now-still trees, “what do you think it is?”

                “I don’t think; I know what it is, Mr. Erickson,” she said, pivoting the gun from side to side. “The locals have legends of these creatures lurking here in the depths of the jungle, these beasts that consume and leave few survivors, if any at all.”

                He was silent for a moment, attempting to corral his fear. “What is it called, then?”

                “I believe you would call it a dinosaur,” she whispered back gently.

                The world began to spin once again, faster and faster, a blur of green and shadow. “A dinosaur?” he heard his voice say from very far away. “I came all the way to Africa to take my wife on a safari, paid all that money for a guide and a private driver, and in return, I get eaten by a god damn dinosaur.” He felt the giggles bubbling in his chest but was powerless to stop them. He was on a different continent, surrounded by people who didn’t speak English. He had saved his whole life to be able to impress his wife, and now he would die because of a creature that had supposedly died out millennia ago.

                “Mr. Erickson!” she hissed again, attempting to snap him out of his hysteria. “Mr. Erickson, please, I beg of you, just—“

                A roar erupted from the trees, immediately silencing the pair of them. “Be very still, Mr. Erickson,” she spoke, her lips barely moving. “We’re about to make our stand.”