The small, grey private helicopter burst through the clouds. Its tail read “RYJ84.”

  “Jesus, that’s loud!” Mike Wilson shouted as the helicopter descended toward the Juan Santamaría helipad. He had never seen a helicopter up close. Its far too windy to be doing this, he thought as it landed.

  “Sí, se?or, helicopters are loud,” one of the workers said, leading Mike toward the aircraft. He pressed his head down and kept his own head low as well.

  As the worker shut the helicopter door, Mike looked out toward where he thought the ocean was. He was going to Isla Nublar—the island of clouds. It had been four years since the events on that island, but he was still nervous.

  The island is empty. You'll be fine. Just write the story and leave! His boss had told him.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  He was a reporter for The New York Times, covering a story on Isla Nublar.

  Mike was a tall, brown-haired man with a small beard. His glasses sat crooked on his face—he hadn’t fixed them since boarding the helicopter. Now, as they flew west over the open ocean, he took off his New York Yankees cap and stared out the window, watching the ships far below.

  He wasn’t sure all the dinosaurs had been eradicated in the bombing of the island. What if some had found shelter underground or something? But he had to do this story. If he did, he’d be famous.

  No one had set foot on the island since 1993, and he was going to be the first.

  “Excuse me, pilot, how much longer until we get to the island?” he asked over the headset on the seat next to him.

  “About 30 more minutes, se?or,” the pilot said.

  The helicopter jolted slightly.

  Mike gripped the armrest, telling himself it was just the wind. Then, the cabin shuddered again, more forcefully this time.

  He glanced at the pilot, who seemed unfazed. Just turbulence, Mike reassured himself.

  Then, the whole cabin shook violently.

  “What the hell was that?!” Mike shouted.

  “Just a bit of turbulence, friend!” the pilot replied. “Only 15 more minutes until we’re there!”

  Mike exhaled and turned back toward the window, but his grip on the armrest remained tight.