Dino Island: The Lost Girls

  Dino Island

  The Lost Girls

  Written by J. R. Hogan

  Copyright © 2021 Locksmith Books

  All rights reserved

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Legal notes

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  Chapter One

  TOC

  “I don’t know what to think about Professor Swift, to be honest.”

  I froze, nearly dropping my books as I stopped myself from turning the corner.

  “It’s just that he knows everything, and doesn’t understand that we can’t always keep up with him. Does he really expect us to read a book every week?” a second girl’s voice responded.

  My neck tingled. I was already late for my own paleontology class, and was just a few steps away from walking into the room and getting things started.

  I had not expected to encounter two freshman girls gossiping about me just outside the door, around the corner and out of eyesight.

  “I don’t just mean the homework, Maria,” the first voice explained conspiratorially. “He’s old enough to be – you know, well-read, wise, that kind of thing – but still young enough to-”

  “Shit, Daisy, can you stop thinking about men for one second?” Maria asked.

  Daisy giggled. “Sure, I like to think about women, too.”

  The tickle in my neck turned into a full-face flush. I respected the privacy of all my students, and would never intrude into their personal lives. But there was no way to get into the classroom without passing these two women who clearly didn’t know I could hear them.

  “But we can’t think about professors like that,” Maria responded scandalously. “It’s just – they’re off-limits.”

  I relaxed a little. Maria was being sensible.

  “Mmmm, calling him ‘off-limits’ is even hotter than that sophisticated ‘professor’ style he always dresses in.”

  I could feel my face turning from red to purple. I dressed the way that made me comfortable; I didn’t always fit in with the popular kids growing up, and had finally matured enough to embrace the style that reflected who I was. Sure, that happened to match up with a traditional academic look, but I was happy with that.

  I had never considered it might be distracting for any of my female students.

  Maria sighed audibly. “Well maybe it’s best to just think of him in academic terms.”

  “I do,” Daisy snapped back. “I’m majoring in human sexuality.”

  SLAM.

  I dropped a book on the floor. They stopped talking.

  Nuts. How could I play this off?

  The gears in my head turned of their own accord, and I was reacting before conscious thought took over. I reached down, snatched the paleontology book from the floor, and quietly moved several steps back.

  Then I spun around, opened the book, and stared intently into it as I walked. I turned around the corner just as Daisy and Maria peeked out to investigate the source of the noise.

  I glanced up, pretending that I had just noticed them and had been walking up the hall the entire time. “Good afternoon, ladies. Let’s get inside, I’m already behind schedule.”

  I held the door open for them as they preceded me into the room. Daisy glanced knowingly at the book in my hands before boring her eyes into me.

  I hoped my face wasn’t still purple.

  Then she looked over my tweed jacket, turned around, and walked inside.

  I let out a long, low sigh, certain that I’d averted disaster.

  Then I noticed that my book – the one I’d been pretending to read before seeing them – was upside down.

  I closed my eyes, shook my head, and walked into the classroom.

  The conversation died down as I took my place at the front of the room, laid the books on the table before me, and cleared my throat. “All the world’s a classroom, which means that we can learn the greatest of lessons from the most improbable sources. Without sufficient quantities of preserved DNA, we have to use indirect measurements to understand anything prior to the Quaternary Period,” I explained in an even, measured voice. “It’s the whole picture that guides us. Fossil structure, plate tectonics, and even the physical orientation of a dead organism can reveal volumes about the way these animals lived.” I folded my arms. “The voices of the past can tell us innumerable stories, if only we’re willing to hear the right words.”

  My eyes moved across the front row of students and ended on Daisy. She was a petite, lithe, slender girl with short, brown hair and piercing blue eyes. Because no one was seated in front of her, Daisy’s long legs were undeniably noticeable. I tried not to be distracted by how the tiny shorts and sandals she wore left every square inch of her bronze legs exposed. It wasn’t right for me to look at my students like that.

  Daisy leaned over and whispered something to Sarah, another freshman. Here’s an honest confession: professors do have favorite students, though I’m always fair when it comes to handing out grades. That’s why Sarah was one of my favorites: she had the highest percentage in the class, because she was the hardest worker. That shined through in her diligent work ethic. Each paper, every test, was honed to perfection. I did wish she would speak up more in class, but she seemed perpetually shy. With her long brown hair, wide glasses, and mousy appearance, she was the quintessential ‘girl next door.’

  Daisy finished whispering and turned away. An impish grin hung about her lips as Sarah looked straight at me and turned beet-red, biting her lower lip.

  And all the while, I pretended not to notice.

  •••

  “Y’all are so sweet,” Jessica beamed at the photographer.

  “It’s true,” he shot back, wiping a greasy strand of hair from his face, “you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever taken a picture of. Now drop those pom-poms and look directly at my camera.”

  I rolled my eyes inwardly. To be fair, the yearbook photographer wasn’t lying: Jessica, the blonde, athletic, head cheerleader, was the most beautiful woman most men had probably ever seen. But he clearly had enough pictures to fill several pages, and was simply taking advantage of the opportunity to ogle a woman who would forever be out of his league.

  “So, uh, what are you going to do after you graduate in the spring?” he asked, trying to prolong the se
ssion.

  “I have auditions with three different NFL teams. I’d absolutely love to be part of the Saints so that I could move back home to Louisiana, but I’ll be blessed no matter what happens,” she explained through a genuine smile.

  “Yes you will,” he grumbled. “Yes you will.”

  I really wanted to smack the guy, but I’ve always been able to keep my emotions in check. I felt terrible for Jessica; she was far too nice to push back against his creepiness. There were other things on my mind, though. I had an appointment that I was about to be late for. The yearbook crew had scheduled me for 7:00 p. m. to talk about my newly published book, but everything had gotten delayed when the photographer became distracted by Jessica.

  “I’m sorry for the delay, Professor Swift. I promise we’ll be with you shortly.”

  I looked up to see Ling, another student member of the yearbook staff, looking at me sympathetically.

  “Thank you. I know that we’re all very busy,” I responded.

  Ling glanced up at Jessica and the obsessed photographer, then sighed. “We all have schedules to keep,” she announced loud enough for him to hear. “Jessica said she could only come by for a short session, and I’ve got to be closing up soon.” She smiled and sat down next to me, flicking her long, silky, black hair wildly around, inadvertently grazing my cheek as she did so. Then she smoothed her crisp, white t-shirt that looked so elegant against the cinnamon hue of her skin. She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, raised an eyebrow at me, and grinned.

  “Ah, yes.” I looked down my watch. “I do need to be out of here before 8:00.”

  “Don’t worry,” Ling responded softly. “I’m very good at getting what I want.”

  •••

  I hurried across the campus in the dark, sure that I was going to be late.

  To be honest, I had no particularly strong desire to be on time. Professor Melvin Stringer had requested my presence, telling me that he urgently needed my attention.

  Professor Melvin Stringer was odd.

  Academics are an esoteric bunch by nature, but this particular physics professor was on a different level. His wiry white hair was never washed, he stared at students until they became uncomfortable, and he was constantly talking about how his genius was underrated.

  To be honest, I felt sorry for him. The man was abrasive, and he had a very difficult time connecting with people. I tried my best to guide him to more appropriate social interactions, as much for his benefit as for those around him. As a result, the rest of the faculty counted on me whenever no one else could get through to him. In turn, he acted as though I was his closest confidant.

  I didn’t particularly like that dynamic.

  “But Mark, this, this process, it will change everything! Everything!” he had hissed over the phone earlier that day, begging me to meet him in his lab. “You simply must come to see me at once!”

  I grimaced. “Well, I’ve got a really busy day, Melvin, maybe some other-”

  “No,” he snapped, “no, that simply will not do. If you’re busy today, then we’ll meet tonight. Be there at 8:00, and I will show you the most significant – just be here as soon as possible! Otherwise, I’ll ask other members of the faculty, perhaps some students-”

  “No, no, it’s fine,” I jumped in, realizing that it was again up to me to protect everyone else. “8:00 sharp, I’ll be there.”

  Checking my watch again as I passed below a street light, I saw that it was currently 8:01.

  Nuts. I had to pick up the pace, or he might start harassing people who couldn’t hold their own against him.

  I descended on his lab, stopping just outside the door.

  “Hello, Mark.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Good to see you, Chastity.”

  Melvin Stringer might have had difficulty connecting with people on a social level, but his unique academic reputation had some peculiar, specific assets. Many visiting and assistant professors actively sought him out for collaborative work despite his difficult personality. They wanted their names published on his papers; he needed at least one person to assist in his bizarre projects. His most recent partner was Professor Chastity Wiggum. Though her credentials were notable, he tended to pick young, curvaceous women whose physical appearance needed to match or exceed their academic reputation. Chastity fit this particular description quite well. Though many young women would quit after less than a week of collaboration, complaining that it simply wasn’t worth his staring, she had endured an unprecedented six months.

  She raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow at me. “I hope you’re ready for this, Mark,” she warned, pulling a briefcase close to her chest.

  I had opened my mouth to ask her what she was talking about before she cut me off and turned around. “Come on in. Some of the others have already arrived.”

  Now doubly confused, I followed her inside the door. I started to ask what was happening, but cut myself off as I looked around in shock.

  The room was dominated by a machine that defined explanation. Ten feet tall and twenty feet long, It seemed to be nothing specific and everything all at once.

  Adding to my surprise was the presence of Sarah and Daisy, who both stood as far in the corner as they possibly could. Looking as eccentric as ever, Melvin Stringer was staring at them and gritting his teeth.

  “He’s here!” Melvin called out, turning away from the girls to their visible relief. “I was beginning to wonder if you were-”

  “Hello, Melvin. Why have you called in my students? I thought you didn’t teach freshmen-”

  “I don’t, but you do,” he explained conspiratorially as he laid a gnarled hand on my shoulder. “Time and space, my friend, time and space are everything.” He smiled at me, eyes bulging.

  I wanted to ask what that meant, but the door burst open and cut me off. I whipped around in surprise.

  Ling, Jessica, and the photographer spilled into the room. Ling was distracted by her cell phone, and the photographer was scrolling through the pictures he had taken, but Jessica’s jaw immediately dropped as she took in the machinery before her.

  “Ah, now everyone’s here,” Melvin gurgled. “We can begin.”

  I looked at the nervous freshmen in the corner, then over to the three people who had been in the yearbook office. My spine tingled.

  Something didn’t feel right.

  “Okay, Professor Stringer,” I began evenly, “I need you to tell us why we’re all here.”

  He raised a gray eyebrow. “I’ve documented the last several people to interact directly with you, Mark, which is crucial to this project’s success. Crucial! Five of them have been beckoned-”

  “We were just told to come here for a sudden emergency,” Ling interrupted him.

  “Same with us,” Daisy added.

  “Are you saying that was a lie?” Ling pressed. “That you just needed us here because you’re obsessed with the people who most recently talked to Professor Swift?”

  Melvin narrowed his bushy eyebrows at Ling. “Instead of explaining something you won’t understand, insolent girl, why don’t I show you?”

  He sprang to the lab door that Chastity had opened surreptitiously, the two of them darted outside, and Melvin slammed it shut.

  I was half a step behind him. I grabbed the handle and pulled.

  It didn’t budge.

  I pulled harder, trying to get the slightest jiggle out of it, but it remained solidly in place.

  I turned around to face the five students.

  Sarah winced with unease and hugged herself, a backpack dangling from her elbow. Daisy wrapped her bare arms around Sarah, holding her close for comfort. Jessica balled her hands into fists, shivering in her skimpy cheerleader outfit. Ling’s face was inscrutable as she took in the surroundings. The photographer had finally lowered his camera to look around in confusion.

  Subconsciously, I knew they were all waiting for me to tell them what the hell we should do next.

  I wished that I had
someone that I could look to for guidance, but it was time to put on a brave face. Yes, this was an odd turn of events – but certainly, we would all be okay.