Needless to say, you're thrilled with your ability to take a pterosaur trophy, especially under these conditions. Brett's impressed, too. You begin to think of yourself as the spiritual heir to Ernest Hemingway, transplanted to the Cretaceous wilderness.
As you drift off to sleep, what do you find yourself thinking?
Vance pushed you too far—no doubt about it. Tonight, you can't help but recall the look on everyone's faces when you decided to exact your pound of flesh. No you can't say you're proud of what you did. Besides, he may have been closer to succumbing than you realized. And yet, this might well have been your one chance to clear your good name and go on to make a decent life for yourself.
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