Return To Primordial Island by Rick Poldark (read my book .txt) 📕

say I blame you, Pete. She’s beautiful.”

“So are you.” He winced after saying it. It sounded pathetic.

“Do you love her?” Tracey’s voice was small.

Peter threw his hands down at his side. “I don’t know.”

Tracey turned around to face him again, her jaw set. “What do you mean you don’t know? What kind of answer is that?”

Peter raised both eyebrows. “To tell you the truth, she kind of scares me.”

“She scares you?”

“Yeah. A lot.”

Tracey shook her head, as if to clear her thoughts. “This isn’t why I pulled you in here. We’re getting sidetracked. There’s something we need to do.”

“Now I’m really confused. What the heck are you talking about?”

She looked at him, eyes determined. “They’re up to something.”

“Who?”

“Poseidon Tech. They’re not here for you or the others. Come on, you know how these guys operate. There’s something else.”

Peter threw his hands up in exasperation. “Yeah, but we don’t know what.”

She stepped closer to him, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Exactly. That’s why we have to find out.”

“Find out? How?”

“We have to sneak around and get a look at the main tent. Whatever is going on, it’s happening there.”

“It’s late, Trace.”

She popped her head out of the tent. Her left hand reached out for him and pulled him towards the opening. Now his head was also sticking out of the tent.

“Look,” she said.

Peter saw Nielsen walking back to his tent. He disappeared inside. “What am I looking at?”

“Nielsen turned in. Collins is walking back from the edge of base camp. We don’t have much time. If we’re going to do this, we have to do it now.”

“Even if we see something, how do we know what we’re looking at?”

Tracey snapped her fingers. “We’ll need help.” She dashed out of the tent, yanking Peter with her. She crept over to Marcy’s tent, dragging Peter along.

She squatted in front of the tent. “Marcy…Marcy, are you awake?”

Marcy’s head poked out. “I’m trying to get some sleep.”

Tracey shook her head. “We need you. We’re going to see what’s going on in that main tent, but we need you to recognize whatever it is.”

Marcy shot her an insolent look. “Can’t this wait till morning? I’m dead on my feet.”

“No,” whispered Tracey. “We have to do this now.”

Marcy scowled. “All right. All right. Hold on. Let me get my shoes on.” She disappeared back inside her tent.

Tracey stood straight.

“This is a really bad idea,” whispered Peter, leaning in.

“No, it’s crucial to getting off this island in one piece,” insisted Tracey.

“What if we get caught?”

“What do you think they’ll do to us?” asked Tracey. “Feed us to the dinosaurs?”

Before Peter could answer, Marcy emerged from her tent wearing her tank top, khakis, and her boots. “Okay, let’s do this so I can get some damned sleep.”

The three of them walked casually across base camp, Peter casting a wary eye at Nielsen’s tent. There was no light on within. He was probably sleeping, something Peter believed he should be doing at the moment, but once Tracey got a notion in her head, she was very tenacious.

Collins’ men all but ignored them, going about their business, keeping the camp secure.

“Look,” said Marcy, pointing.

Several technicians in Poseidon Tech jumpsuits fanned out, sweeping the ground with long apparatuses ending in what looked like a steering wheel in a cordoned off sector of base camp.

“What are they doing?” asked Tracey.

“Metal detectors,” said Marcy. “Part of the geological survey. Look over there.” Off to the right, a technician was manning surveying equipment and jotting notes onto a digital pad with a stylus. “That’s a total station. He’s recording distances.”

“What for?” asked Tracey.

“He’s marking coordinates,” said Marcy.

“There’s something significant about this site, other than being a landing zone,” said Tracey.

Peter pointed at a large red vehicle on metal treads surrounded by portable flood lights. A large drill was mounted on the front as two technicians shouted instructions, guiding the operator. “They’re taking core samples.”

“Part of our geological survey,” shrugged Marcy. “Nothing strange about that.”

“They’re going to draw an awful lot of attention.”

They saw a Humvee circling the survey area, the gunner scanning the jungle. Peter knew it wasn’t going to be enough if something large decided to amble out of the tree line.

“Let’s check out the main tent,” said Marcy.

They made their way to the back of the main tent. Marcy held up her index finger over her lips, telling Peter and Tracey to be quiet. She placed her ear up against the side of the tent. Tracey shrugged and did the same. Peter looked around, shifting his feet. Finally, he joined them, placing his ear up to the canvas.

They all heard voices from within the tent. One of them was clearly Collins. He’d returned faster than expected. Tracey cursed under her breath, and Marcy shushed her silently. Peter clenched his teeth and balled his hands into fists, terrified.

Marcy’s eyes lit up as she listened. Tracey touched her arm and mouthed, ‘Do you understand what they’re saying?’

Marcy shook her head. “You stay here. I’m going in to get a closer look. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared around the corner.

Tracey leaned forward, listening.

Peter was lost. He heard multiple people speaking, now including Marcy, but he only made out a few of the words—metal, phase shift, lock on.

“Can I help you?” The voice came from behind Peter, and its sudden appearance made him and Tracey jump out of their skin. Peter wheeled around and saw Collins standing there, glaring at them.

Peter looked around. “Uh…I was just trying to find my tent.”

“Well, it isn’t over here,” said Collins. “You were listening in.”

“No we weren’t,” insisted Tracey, sounding like a stubborn child.

“You do realize we