Bone Beds of the Badlands: A Dylan Maples Adventure
Penguin Books Canada, 2001

Excerpt from Chapter 3 …

A DARK DREAM

We didn't talk much after that. After a while Dorothy said good night and we heard her shuffling along the floor in her sleeping bag, back towards the girls area. Then my eyelids started getting heavy. The last thing I saw was the vague outline of that T-rex head and its huge teeth, sharp as razors.

I drifted into another world. It was seventy-five million years ago. It was hot, even muggier than it gets on an August day in Toronto when the pollution index is high. I was alone, and sweating, despite being half-naked and standing still. The land was sandy, muddy in places; there were ponds and swamps filled with lily pads and thick green vegetation. Huge ferns towered over me, and so did spooky cypress trees with moss hanging from them like vampires' capes. The moon looked twice the size it should have. And yet, something told me I hadn't gone far. I was still in Canada, in Alberta. In the distance I could hear growls and shrieks, inhuman sounds. But they weren't like the cry of any animal I had ever heard. These creatures sounded very large. Like giants.

Then there was another sound, quiet and distant at first but soon growing louder and coming nearer. A rhythmic, thudding sound. Footsteps! The ground shook more with each pounding step. I scurried over to a tree and flattened myself against the trunk. Now every step was like an earthquake. And before long, a beast, unlike any I had ever seen and bigger than I ever could have imagined, emerged out of the trees. A dinosaur! A lambeosaurus, fifteen metres long! It looked like a barn, except it was moving, and breathing, and it was very frightened. It turned its head and glanced around. Then it stood perfectly still. I could see that one of its feet was lame, and it looked old. As it stood there, listening, silence slowly descended on the jungle, as if every other animal that had been growling, shrieking, and trumpeting knew that it was time to listen for dear life. I stared way up at the dinosaur's huge face.

Suddenly there was thunder in the trees near us. In a flash a giant lizard leapt forward, seized the lambeosaurus, and slammed it down. The thud shook the ground as if the whole earth were moving. Cowering against the tree, I could see the massive head of a living, breathing Tyrannosaurus rex, fluorescent green and yellow, its jaws wide, its knife-like teeth penetrating the lambeosaurus's long neck, its claws slicing into thick hide. It roared like fifty lions at a kill, the noise vibrating against my skin and making the hair stand up on the back of my neck. It tore open its huge prey, slashing the skin. Blood spurted out in a great gush, and I could hear the giant bones crunching.

I couldn't watch so I turned and ran. Then, for some reason, the T-rex was after me! It shot through the trees on its massive legs. I was a mole it was going to swipe up and devour. As I ran I began to see other creatures, tiny mammals, scurrying underground. I remembered seeing these mouse-like animals on display at the museum. "These cowering, frightened little beasts," Mr. Lyons, the Hadrosaur-man, had said, "are our ancestors." I wasn't doing much better than they were now.

Sprinting and stumbling forward, I saw other dinosaurs looking at me: a big, spectacularly coloured corythosaurus, calm and camouflaged, using its skills to survive; the armour-plated triceratops turning its horn to meet its foe; quetzalcoatlus swooping down to see the chase; and troodons, birdlike and not much bigger than me, knifing by at top speed, shrieking, wondering if they should rip me open with their deadly claws and eat parts of me as we ran, stealing a meal from the king himself. But before long, to my surprise, I seemed to be getting away. And slowly everything became quiet again. Somehow, I had escaped.

I stood alone in the trees, my chest heaving. I listened to my heavy breaths. Soon they began to lessen. I sat, still listening intently. The silence continued. I lay down and looked up at the blue sky above the strange looking trees.

Then something emerged in that blue... a massive head, yellow eyes on fire. The T-rex was above me! Its teeth were fully bared; drool dripped from its mouth. The face seemed almost human, the head shaved clean. Its jaws snapped wide open and it lowered its head to rip me open.

I woke up.

High above in the darkness, the head of the museum's T-rex was glaring at me, and I screamed.

Boy, would I ever regret that.

Slowly kids started waking up: "Eh?" "What's up?" "Who screamed?" "Was that you, Maples?" "What a wimp." "Should I get Mommy on the phone?"

Did they ever give it to me. Even that pinhead Stockwell laid a snide comment on me. But Dorothy was quiet; she never said a word. Over the next few days, while my buds wouldn't let my blood-curdling, late-night scream die, Dorothy would never even let on that she'd woken up. But I saw her, sitting up in the darkness of Dinosaur Hall, in a spot between the boys' and girls' areas, looking at me, just staring, as if she were thinking. There really was something different about that girl.

"Mr. Maples, are you all right?"

It was Ophelia. As far as I could tell, Newcombe hadn't budged. In fact, in the second of silence that followed her question, I heard the full blast of another snore. Dead to the world.

"Yes, Mrs. Newcombe, I'm fine."

"Nightmare?"

"Uh ... yes."

"Nothing to be ashamed of. Even my Norris has a dark dream or two."

"Not a big bad brute like him...," mumbled Bomber inside his sleeping bag.

"Do you have a question, Mr. Connors?" asked Ophelia.

"No, ma'am. But do you think Mr. Maples would like me to hold his hand?"

"That will be quite enough, Mr. Connors. Everyone terminate conversation. And back to sleep. Thank you."

With that she turned and disappeared into the darkness.

Other than a discussion among the buds about whether or not I'd peed the bed – one that they conducted as if they were investigating some sort of serious issue they'd just seen on the national news – there wasn't much more said about it. I think the guys were too tired to really lay into me. They were saving it for morning.

As I settled back in and stared up at that T-rex head again something dawned on me. The huge meat-cater in my dream had indeed had a human face. And I had seen it somewhere. I racked my brain. Then it came to me. I had seen that face at the airport on the front page of the Calgary Herald. The dinosaur that had nearly eaten me was none other than "the Reptile" himself.

OUTSIDE, IN THE DARKNESS, a tall man dressed in black was stealthily making his way down out of the badlands hills, glancing around, listening. The museum sat beneath him, like a toy. But his dark eyes were focused on a distant thought. He was planning something. He held a bone in his hand. He looked at it, and smiled.

Suddenly, a light came on in the building, a dim one, glowing, in Dinosaur Hall. The tall man noticed. His head turned as if he were sensing prey.

Minutes later he had reached lower ground, then he approached the.fountains, and then the museum entrance. He ran his hands along the three-bladed claw of one of the dromaeosaurs on its pedestal outside.

That light intrigued him. He climbed a wall like a spider and peered down through a skylight into the Hall. Children!

They were sitting up in their sleeping bags, speaking to a female teacher. One of them looked a little frightened.

A few minutes later he was back out in the badlands, that bone still in his hand. Soon he came to an open pit,filled with the fossilized bones of dinosaurs. He flung his bone high into the air, not looking at where it landed. The tall man smiled again. Then he turned and fled into the hills, his black clothing glistening in the moonlight.