"He's driving around and around a tree," Levine said. "A big tree by the clearing."
"Why?"
"He must be running the cable around the tree, Eddie said. "That's the only possible reason."
There was a moment of silence.
"What's he doing now?" Arby said.
"He's gotten out of the Jeep. Now he's running toward the trailer."
Thorne was down on his hands and knees in the mud, holding the big hook of the jeep winch in his hands. The trailer was sliding away from him, but he managed to crawl beneath it, and get the hook around the rear axle. He pulled his fingers clear just as the hook slammed tight against the brake cover, and he rolled his body away. Newly restrained, the trailer jumped sideways in the grass, the tires slamming down where his body had been moments before.
The metal cable from the winch was pulled taut. The whole underbelly of the trailer creaked in protest.
But it held.
Thorne crawled out from beneath the trailer, and squinted at it in the rain. He looked carefully at the wheels of the jeep, to see if they were moving at all. No. With the cable wrapped around the tree, the counterbalancing weight of the jeep was enough to hold the second trailer on the rim of the cliff.
He went back to the Jeep, climbed inside, and set the brake. He heard Eddie saying, "Doc, Doc."
"I'm here, Eddie."
"You manage to stop it?"
"Yeah. It's not moving any more."
The radio crackled. "That's great. But listen. Doc. You know that connector is just five-mil mesh over stainless rod. It was never intended to - "
Chapter 12
"I know, Eddie. I'm working on it." Thorne climbed out of the car again. He ran quickly through the rain toward the trailer.
He opened the side door, and went inside. The interior was inky black. He could see nothing at all. Everything was overturned. His feet crunched on glass. All the windows were shattered. He held the radio in his hand. "Eddie!"
"Yes, Doc."
"I need rope." He knew that Eddie had all sorts of supplies squirreled away.
"Doc..."
"Just tell me."
"It's in the other trailer. Doc."
Thorne crashed against a table in the darkness, "Great."
"There might be some nylon line in the utility locker," Eddie said. "But I don't know how much." He didn't sound hopeful. Thorne pushed his way down the trailer, came to the wall cabinets. They were jammed shut. He tugged at them in the darkness, then turned away. The utility locker was just beyond. Maybe there would be rope there. And right now, he needed rope.
Trailer
Sarah Harding, still hanging by her arms from the top of the trailer, stared up at the twisted accordion connector, leading to the second trailer. The pounding from the dinosaurs had stopped, and the other trailer was no longer moving. But now she felt water, dripping cold onto her face. And she knew what that meant.
The accordion connector was beginning to leak.
She looked up, and saw a tear had begun to open in the mesh fabric, revealing the twisted coils of steel that formed the connector. The tear was small now, but it would rapidly widen. And as the mesh broke, the steel would begin to uncoil, to lengthen, and finally snap.
They had only minutes before the hanging trailer broke free and fell to the ground below,
She climbed back down to Malcolm, bracing herself to stand beside him. "Ian."
"I know," he said, shaking his head.
"Ian, we have to get out of here." She grabbed him under his armpits, and pulled him upright. "And you're coming with me."
He shook his head, defeated. She had seen that gesture before in her life, that futile shake, giving up. She hated to see it. Harding never gave up. Not ever.
Malcolm grunted. "I can't..."
"You have to," she said.
"Sarah..."
"I don't want to hear it, Ian. There's nothing to talk about. Now let's go." She was pulling him, and he groaned, but he straightened his body. She pulled hard, and got him up off the table. Lightning flashed, and he seemed to find some energy. He managed to stand on the edge of the seat, facing the table. He was unsteady, but standing. "What do we do?"
"I don't know, but we're going to get out of here....Is there any rope?"
He nodded, weakly.
"Where?"
He pointed straight down, toward the nose of the trailer, now hanging in space. "Down there. Under the dash."
"Come on."
She leaned out into space, and spread her legs so she was braced against the floor opposite her. She was standing like a rock climber in a chimney. Twenty feet below her to the dashboard.
"Okay, Ian. Let's go."
Malcolm said, "I can't do it, Sarah. Seriously."
"Then lean on me. I'll carry you."
"But - "
"Now, damn it!"
Malcolm hoisted himself up, grasped a wall fitting, his arm trembling. He was dragging his right leg. Then she felt his weight on her, sudden and heavy, almost knocking her free. His arms locked around her neck, choking her. She gasped, reached back with both arms, grabbed his thighs, and lifted him while he adjusted his arms better around her neck. Finally she could breathe.
"Sorry," he said.
"It's okay," she said. "Here we go."
She started to make her way down the vertical passageway, grabbing at whatever she could, In places there were handholds, and when there were no handholds, she clutched at drawer handles, table legs, window latches, even the carpeting on the floor, her fingers tearing the cloth. At one point, the carpet came away in a big strip, and she slipped before her legs tightened wider, and she halted her downward slide. Hanging behind her, Malcolm wheezed; his arms around her neck were trembling. He said, "You're very strong."