“Now Mrs. Jones, please tell me what occurred before your plane began to descend.”

Anne raised her head from her hands. She was sitting at a table in the center of a room with a single, large open window allowing sunlight to filter into the room. She had been fed the night before, and then got some rest, waking up to several hours of questioning in a government building. She was several stories up, and in the distance she could see jungle.

She shook her head. “I don’t know… There were banging sounds, and then I just tumbled down the aisle. The last thing I remember was smashing into the front window.”

“You have no idea where those banging sounds came from?” Anne listened as the man spoke. He was dressed in a suit, with a black mustache. He looked native, but she didn’t really care. He had introduced himself as Carl Velasquez.

Gregory Yorkin stood leaning against the wall next to the window, glancing at another man standing behind Velasquez, named Dan Smith. He had been silent all along, and as Anne answered Velasquez’ question it was no different.

“I don’t know what happened!”

“No one said anything?”

“How could they? They were passengers, just like me… No one could of known!”

“Please Mrs. Jones, just calm down.”

“How can you be asking me these questions?”

“We know what you’ve been through, but we need to know what happened.”


“Now please… From the start. Why were you visiting Costa Rica?”

“Why do you have to know that?”

Smith spoke up. “We need to know…”

“I was visiting ‘cause I needed a bit of time to myself. I came, met Marquez—“

Velasquez asked, “Yes, this Marquez. What was his last name?”


“Ok, go on.”

“He offered to take me on a tour of the Cinco Muertes islands. I agreed, and then we ended up on Sorna.”

“Were there any survivors besides you?”

“… No.”

“But you don’t know that?”

“I’m… I’m sure of it.”

“Ok, then… So you found yourself on the island, and made your way to Mt. Watson in the north? How did you know to go there?”


“Have you ever done research on the island before you just happened to be visiting Costa Rica?”


“Just tell us, how did you know to get up there?”

“I found a map. It said there was a radio there.”

“Where did you find this map?”

“One of the buildings.”

“What did you see there?”

Anne criss-crossed her fingers over her face, lacing them together in frustration. “It was just a building. I found the map, and I made my way to the mountain.”

“Did you bring anything along back with you?”

Anne slightly shook her head, before Velasquez continued. “Did you find anything there?”

“Like what? Dinosaurs?”

With that, Yorkin smiled, compressing a chortle. Velasquez stared at her intently. “Equipment, computers. Along that line?”

“Of course I saw that stuff. When you’re trying to survive from prehistoric lizards, it would be smart once in awhile to hide in someplace sheltered.”

Velasquez straightened up in his seat across from her. For a while, he seemed to be staring through her, until he stood up, whispering something to Smith. The two men walked away from the table, passing by Yorkin who they talked to for several moments, before leaving.

Yorkin nodded, motioning them out. He walked over, taking Velasquez’ place in the chair. “Sorry you had to go through that.”

“It’s ok.”

“You’ll be going through a bit more, but…”

“I know…”

“It’ll just be awhile. Anyway, you must be ready to go to your new hotel. We’re going to be moving you to a hotel in Puntarenas.”

“That’s fine… Anything away from this building.”

Yorkin laughed. “Well then, let’s get going.”


Anne had been left to a hotel in Puntarenas, a town just up the coast from Jaco. She had kept to her room the rest of the day, exhausted, until she fell asleep.

When she had awoken the next day, the sunlight was filtering through the window of her room, which overlooked the beach.

She had been given some fresh clothes, which she had worn to sleep, and she stretched, yawning. Still in her clothes, she left her room, leaving the building itself to the pool on the north side, which also was near the beach.

It was outside, and fenced in only to the rest of the town, which she could see. There were several people already there, in the pool or lying on the chairs outside of it.

She sat down in one of the chairs, under a large umbrella shading the surrounding area underneath, and closed her eyes.

For several minutes, she listened to the sounds of people talking around the pool, and the occasional splash of children, followed by laughing.

A car pulled up in the parking lot on the opposite side of the fence, and she hears the car door slam. A few moments later, she hears the creak of the fence door open, and she looks, seeing a man in his forties take off a pair of sunglasses, sticking them in a pocket on his flowered shirt.

He’s American, with a beard, dressed in a flowered, button-down shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. He looks around for a moment, and then starts walking over to Anne.

She sits up, as he smiles. “Hello. Ms. Jones?”

“Yeah,” Anne says. “That’s me.”

“Ah! Well, I’m glad to know you’re fine.” He stuck out his hand, and she shook it. “I’m Marty Guitierrez.”

“Hello Mr. Guitierrez.”

“Oh, please. Call me Marty!” He laughed, sitting down in a chair next to her. “I, uh, understand what you’ve been through. I just thought I’d let you know it’ll settle down after awhile. The government’s going to question you, no doubt.”

Anne looked suspiciously at him, before he continued. “I was involved back around 1993 when this all started. I help from time-to-time at clinics here in Costa Rica, and back before the whole Park incident there were sightings of green animals—lizards, they said—that turned out to be Compsognathus. I found a dead one on one of the beaches here, and it was analyzed.”

“I see…”

“So when the survivors got back, the government knew what I had found, so they undoubtedly questioned me as well. They kept us all here for a bit until everything was all smoothed over.”

Anne nodded, looking at the pool as two kids started to splash each other. “How long was everyone kept here?”

“No longer than two weeks… A lot of stuff to clean up that was…”


“How long have they told you that you were going to be here?”

“A few days…”

Guitierrez laughed, but Anne didn’t ask why. He said, “I found out you were here, and I was visiting a friend of mine in the town, so I wanted to stop by.”

“How did you find out?”

“Connections… I know Yorkin. He was younger back in ’93 though…”

“I see…”

By now, the two kids that had been splashing each other had gotten out, one of them walking by Anne as the second ran over, pushing him in, but fell in as well. Water splashed up from the pool, sprinkling Anne and Guitierrez

Anne had a smile on her face, and Guitierrez laughed. “Always energetic,” he whispered.

After several moments of silence, Guitierrez started to get up, clapping his hands. “Well, if you’re ever back in Puntarenas, I’ll make sure you get a warm welcome.”

He smiled, standing low under the umbrella. She looked up. “Thank you…Marty.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be here for awhile anyway. Maybe get used to the place.”

“I think I might’ve gotten my fill of Costa Rica already…”

He laughed, before ducking beyond the umbrella, heading for the fence, when Anne asked, “How long do you think I’m actually going to be here?”

He stopped, turning around. “Well Ms. Jones,” he un-pocketed his glasses, folding them open and putting them on as he spoke. “Let’s just say it’ll be longer than you bargained for.”

With that, he nodded and turned away.