Chapter 3: Stranded in the Cretaceous
Evan Clarks sat frozen in the pilot's seat of the Constellation Voyager, staring out at the alien yet strangely familiar landscape. The realization struck him with the weight of a meteor. He was no longer in his time, no longer on the mission to Mars. He was on Earth, but an Earth ruled by towering dinosaurs and primal chaos.
"Lyra, confirm our location again," Evan said, his voice trembling despite his effort to stay composed.
"Location: Earth. Temporal estimate: 77 million years BCE, during the late Cretaceous period. Atmospheric readings indicate oxygen levels are sufficient for human respiration. Terrain is predominantly tropical."
Evan exhaled sharply, his hand instinctively gripping the controls as if they could somehow return him to the safety of the future. "How did this happen, Lyra? I didn't engage the Temporal Shift protocol!"
"The Temporal Shift was activated remotely. Source of activation remains unidentified," Lyra explained.
Evan leaned back, running a hand through his hair. "So, someone out there thought it would be a great idea to fling me into the past."
Suddenly, the ship jolted, and Evan was thrown sideways. Alarms blared, and the console lit up with warning signals.
"Warning: structural integrity compromised. Hull damage detected," Lyra reported.
"What now?" Evan muttered, grabbing his toolkit and heading to the rear cargo hold. The dim red emergency lights flickered as he moved, casting eerie shadows. He reached the cargo bay and found the source of the issue: a tree branch the size of a small car had punctured the ship's side during the crash.
"Great," Evan muttered, pulling out a welding tool. As he worked to patch the breach, the sounds of the jungle filtered in—a symphony of chirping insects, rustling leaves, and distant roars that made his skin crawl.
Suddenly, a low rumble echoed through the jungle. It wasn't an earthquake—it was rhythmic, deliberate, and terrifyingly close.
Evan froze, his heart pounding. He turned to look out the breach and caught a glimpse of movement in the underbrush. Branches snapped like twigs, and a massive shadow loomed. Then, it stepped into view: a Tyrannosaurus rex, its eyes scanning the landscape with predatory focus.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Evan whispered, backing away from the breach.
The T. rex sniffed the air, its head swiveling toward the ship. Its yellow eyes locked onto the Voyager, and it let out an earth-shaking roar that made every hair on Evan's body stand on end.
"Lyra, how fast can we get the ship operational?" Evan asked, his voice barely steady.
"Current damage requires an estimated 72 hours of repair," Lyra replied.
"72 hours? We don't have 72 seconds!" Evan hissed.
The T. rex began moving toward the ship, its thunderous footsteps rattling the cargo hold. Evan grabbed a nearby crate and pushed it in front of the breach to block the predator's view.
"Lyra, can you run a distraction?" Evan asked.
"Deploying drone decoy," Lyra replied.
A small drone ejected from the ship, flying out of the breach and buzzing loudly as it weaved through the air. The T. rex's head snapped toward the noise, and it roared again, lunging after the decoy.
Evan watched as the massive predator chased the drone into the jungle, its footsteps fading into the distance. He let out a shaky breath and slumped against the wall.
"That buys us time," he muttered.
Returning to the cockpit, Evan took inventory of his supplies. The ship had emergency rations, a water purifier, and basic survival gear—but it was designed for Mars, not prehistoric Earth.
"Lyra, give me an assessment of our energy reserves," Evan said.
"Main power at 35%. Backup systems functional but limited. Suggest conserving energy for critical repairs."
Evan nodded. "And what about defenses? Do we have anything to keep the locals from turning me into lunch?"
"Ship is equipped with a standard-issue plasma rifle located in the armory," Lyra said.
Evan retrieved the rifle, its sleek design offering a small sense of security. He checked the charge—fully loaded. At least that was something.
As night began to fall, the jungle came alive with new sounds. The chirps of insects gave way to the eerie calls of nocturnal creatures. Evan set up a perimeter around the ship using motion sensors from the cargo bay, hoping they would give him enough warning if something approached.
Sitting in the dimly lit cockpit, he stared out at the darkened jungle. Shadows danced across the landscape, and his thoughts turned to his situation.
"How am I going to get out of this?" he whispered to himself.
Lyra's voice broke the silence. "Evan, I have analyzed the Temporal Shift mechanism. It appears to be heavily damaged, but there may be a way to repair it with the right materials."
"Materials? You mean scavenging in a world where everything wants to eat me?" Evan said with a humorless laugh.
"Correct," Lyra replied. "However, this may be your only option to return to your time."
Evan sighed, rubbing his temples. "Okay. First thing tomorrow, we start searching. But for now, let's hope nothing decides to pay us a visit."
As he leaned back in the pilot's chair, exhaustion finally taking over, Evan couldn't shake the feeling that his arrival here wasn't an accident. Someone or something wanted him in this time. And until he figured out why, survival was only the beginning of his problems.