If he was wrong, it was a meaningless symbol-a hill that was no different from any of the other hills in the Jurassic period. He fervently hoped he was not wrong. The matter went beyond his own personal desires now. He had been given a vote of confidence from the entire group. They had as much as said, “Here, Chuck, it’s yours. We’re depending on you to get us out of this. We have complete faith in you and we’ll abide by any decision you make.” He shook his head glumly as he made his way through the dense undergrowth. He would have liked to share their confidence in him, but he couldn’t help thinking that he would never successfully lead them to the rendezvous site. He had the ominous feeling that they would continue to wander hopelessly until the land or the beasts finally claimed the entire party as victims.
The thought was not a cheerful one.
And almost as if nature was doing its best to match the mood in which Chuck found himself, the day, which had dawned with a clear blue sky, suddenly turned gray and dreary. A bone-penetrating dampness settled over the land, spreading a white mist that enshrouded the plants.
Chuck led the way. His trousers were soaked to the waist. The leaves of the plants seemed to acquire a slippery resiliency when they were wet. They slapped at him with almost deliberate maliciousness. They clutched at him with thorny fingers. They tore at his clothes with spiny claws. They showered cold water down on him. They grew across the earth in long hidden trailers that tripped him.
He didn’t stop the party.
They kept moving, with Chuck always in the lead, his eyes on the fuzzy, distant hill that was fast being swallowed by the spreading mist.
Eventually he forgot where he was.
It was almost as if someone had reached down into his body and yanked him out. He felt as if he were standing to one side and stupidly watching a person he knew to be himself go through the motions of fighting the pugnacious terrain. The party stretched behind him like the twisting tail of a kite.
No one complained. Even Masterson was silent as they threaded their slow, torturous way across the face of the earth.
The mist grew thicker, swirling around them like a thin snowstorm now. They grasped hands, struggling forward purposefully. The mist was like a tangible thing, a solid barrier that blinded them and dampened them, penetrating to the marrow, chilling the soul.
At last, even the fuzzy, evergreen-covered hill in the distance was swallowed up.
There was nothing any more. Nothing but an endless cast-iron sky overhead and a shifting, swirling mist that covered them like a soggy blanket. They stumbled over rocks, picking their way over the treacherous ground, fearful lest they tumble into a deep crevice or over the side of a steep rock fault.
Chuck called a halt. He rested one foot on a rock, his arm lying across his knee. Tiredly, he began to speak.
“It’s no good,” he said. “Everything is against us.”
Dr. Perry nodded his head, and his fingers sought the brown beard. He played with the thick hair as he spoke. “What now, Chuck? Where do we go from here?”
Chuck sighed wearily. “I don’t know. As long as this fog surrounds us, we can’t go on. Unless I can spot the hill again.”
“What hill?” Arthur asked.
“Why, the…” Chuck passed a hand over his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own thoughts, I…” He stopped and brought the hand over his face, almost as if he were washing some of the weariness away. “I’ve been using a hill on the horizon as a sort of substitute marker. Now, with this fog, I can’t see the hill any more.”
Dr. Dumar’s voice was gentle when he spoke, his eyes kind behind his spectacles. “What do you plan on doing, Chuck?”
“Well, I want to go ahead by myself.”
“What!” Masterson shouted. “You plan on leaving us here.”
“Only so that I can find higher ground,” Chuck said over Masterson’s voice. “If I can, I might be able to see that hill again. It’s just a chance.”
“I’ll go with you,” Arthur said.
“No. Ill go alone.”
“I’ll go with you,” Arthur repeated.
“I’d like to come, too,” Dr. Perry said.
“But, I…”
“What is it, Chuck?”
“I didn’t want to endanger anyone’s… I mean, I thought I should go alone.”
“We’re coming,” Arthur said firmly.
Chuck took quick stock of the situation. Perhaps it would be better if they came along. Three heads should certainly be better than one. “All right,” he said quickly. A new thought struck him. If Arthur and Dr. Perry came along, that would leave only Pete, Denise and Dr. Dumar to cope with Masterson and Gardel. Pete was a good man and strong-but Denise was a girl, and Dr. Dumar wasn’t exactly a weight lifter.
“I’d like you to come with us too, Gardel,” Chuck said suddenly.
Gardel pulled his black brows together into a scowl. “Why?”
“I like your company.”
“Don’t get smart with me, you little…”
Chuck allowed his hand to drop to the .45 at his waist. “I’d like you along, Gardel,” he almost whispered.