Ok here is my story. I didn’t proof it, just let in flow out in a oner! 🙂

Bowdon raised his chin as he pulled the zipper up the length of his body, one eye taking in his reflection in the wall mirror opposite. Without shifting his gaze his hand reached down to pinch between thumb and forefinger the small pharma-capsule which had been laid out for him, beside a glass of water. The sight of himself in the drab grey jumpsuit, whose only nod to colour was the gaudy emblem upon his right breast, made him smile inwardly. How full of pride he had been when the uniform had first been issued to him, how intoxicated with the promise of adventure beyond the dreams of any other urchin from his hab-bloc. That dizzying high had since given sway to altogether different feeling. Not quite despair, for there was still some slim hope, but Bowdon seemed to have lost the will to dream.

With a shake of his head to scatter his morose and intrusive thoughts, Bowdon slipped the capsule into his mouth and ground it between his teeth, eschewing the water provided. A slight wincing of his right eye was the only betrayal of the disgusting taste his forced composure sought to conceal. The morbid silence of this private ritual was suddenly punctuated by a loud and humour filled voice the open doorway,

“Why the hell you gotta’ always play that ‘ice cold street kid’ crap, you know them things taste like week old rotten crab bits man. And you know I know that man, I didn’t grow up in no comfy hab, gettin’ fat on State rations. Dead mutated crap offa’ the beach, them was my evenin’ meal, city-boy!”

Despite himself Bowdon smiled openly. He had heard Mcalaistir spin that line a thousand times, but his friend, and fellow Time-Warden, had a way of bringing a little light into even the grimmest of occasions.

“Anyway brother, swallow your starter, the last supper has been served in the mess, lets get our asses down there.

—————————————————–

Within the hour Bowden and his team had eaten the rations put before them and made their final preparations to jump. He could hardly describe himself as full, but in honour of the momentous day the usual protein rich slime had been replaced by a true novelty. An egg. An actual goddamn egg, from an actual goddamn chicken. He had no idea how they had managed it, but by the stars had it tasted good. Even Bowdon had smiled. Thats when the rest of the team knew it really was the end of civilisation, not a drill.

He sat now in the cramped cockpit of his Geison 640, his senses swamped by the creak of his leather chair, the cramping tightness of the safety harnesses crisscrossed over him and a cold metallic odour mingled with his own cold sweat. For the tenth time he checked the large gauge which took centre place in the middle of the dashboard. The dial still rested at zero. Waiting impatiently for clearance, he sought to still his nerves by running through his checks one last time. Craning his head awkwardly from within his haz-suit he mentally ticked off the various switches, dials and levers surounding him. Instictively his left hand slid from the controls to pat the blaster holstered on his thigh. The weight of it brought comfort to Bowdon, no matter anything else, its help could always be relied upon.

Finally there was a static crackle and a tinny voice erupted through the Time-Capsule’s communicator,

“Agent Bowden, this is control. Birds Alpha and Beta have already flown, prepare yourself for.. *cough* …imminent jump sequence.”

Bowden shivered at the words. He had instantly learned two things. One, his fellow agents had failed; they had leaped, but nothing had changed, here they were still, on the edge of doom. Two, the end was nearer than he had feared. Control had been unable to conceal the telltale wracking cough which was the harbinger of their fate. Over the past hundred years humanity had survived devasting nuclear war, famine and collapse. It had reemerged, dimisnhed but not vanquished. Hope had lived on. Technology long helf in secret by the highest powers came out into the light. It would, they promised, turn back the clock, make all right once more.

Until the coming of The Affliction.

With a pitiless hunger the virus had swept across the crowded and fetid slum districts which sprawled around each State Gov-Centre. Millions had fallen, ravaged by wracking coughing fits as their internals liquified and rose up their engflamed throats. Until now State employees had been spared the horror, sequestered away behind sentry gun armed steel fortress walls. Until now.

“…Bowden.. *cough* Launch! For pity’s sake launch!”

————————————————–

Bowden’s world was momentarily consumed by light, so bright it burst through his eyelids to burn and enflame the retina beneath. Before he could gasp in pain the sensation was replaced by a stomach lurching sense of free-fall, accompanied by a deafening cacophony of alarms and electronic alerts from his console. He fought against the stinging blindness to open his eyes, holding back a wave of nausea.

The blurred sight which greeted him made his mind reel almost as much as his capsule now was. About a thousand metres below was a vast canopy of trees, stretching in every direction as far as his weeping eyes could strain. the craft, not at all built for flight, was hurtling downward at terminal velocity.

What the hell had happened? Where the hell was Atlanta, June 18th 2016? This was.. Christ where the hell was this? Brazil? Borneo? Bowden fought to rein in his scattered and panicked thoughts, only surviving mattered at the moment. He could work out what the hell kind of wrong turn the techs had taken when he was on the ground. In one piece preferably.

As the ground rushed to greet him, he realised there was only one course. Training kicked in and he reached with both hands under his seat to pull firmly on a large lever. With a whooshing escape of pressure the capsule top jettisoned and Bowden’s pilot seat leapt out of the open canopy, the automatic parachute releasing after a few metres. Drifting down slowly upon a warm tropical breeze, Bowden watched with a sense of sickening finality as the Geison 640 thundered into the canopy a few hundred meters away and burst into a huge upward bout of flame and smoke. The sound echoed across the vast wilderness with a tremourous boom. Some detached part of the time agents brain found itself puzzled; despite the sudden violence all was still, no birds seemed to take flight in shock.

—————————————————

Bowden unclipped the last of the parachute harness straps from his aching and bruised bosy with a sigh. The descent had been gentle, calming even. Crashing through the treeline and down through the branches of the impossibly tall trees had not been so kind. He now stood at their base, their immense girth and height looming over him. Each was covered in vibrantly coloured moss and creepers, the ground underfoot a tangle of forest growth, punctuated here and their by debris from his utterly destroyed craft. As he scanned his surroundings in both frustration and awe, his attention turned a rocky outcrop twenty metres to his right. On a shelf he could see the dark curve of a natural cave, next to which sat a sizeable chunk of the Geison. From here it seemed to be part of the rear section, and reasonably intact too. Could well be some of the stowage had survived, he thought to himself.

As he reached the base of the rock he reached out and tested the strength of jungle vines which dangled down the slick and mossy rock face. Just as he satisfied himself his weight could be borne, a sudden noise of snapping undergrowth made him spin on his heels.

Turning to face whatever jungle denizen had been drawn to his position by the noise and flames, Bowden’s jaw dropped slack and his still-searing eyes bulged from his smoke and bruise marred face.

A dinosaur. A goddammed dinosaur.

In a delerious and shock reeling voice Bowden spoke to his reptilian welcoming party.

“So there you are, every little kids dream made flesh. Jee-zuz when those tech boys screw up they really go to town. Must have been the fever, yeah The Affliction really boils the old brain for sure. Poor bastard’s probably throwing up a lung right now.”

In response the 6 feet tall bipedal carnivore cocked its head to one side, eyeing the strange pink creature with a wary eye. After a few long seconds it seemed to decide that whatever it was, it had the scent of prey, and a long mottled snout parted to reveal several rows of vicous sharp teeth. The predator bellowed a deafening high pitched screech and began to pad forward.

The sudden outburst snapped Bowden to his senses and the innate human will to survive took control of his body. His hand flicked down to hsi thigh holster. Empty! His blood ran cold as his doom began to close the distance between them. Spinning quickly on his heels, Bowden launched himself at the rock face, grasping the vines, all caution discarded he now scrambled up the face in rapid desperation. He reached the shelf and elbowed himself over just as flailing jaws clamped around one of his his steel-strengthened boots. With a cry of agony as his ankle was wrenched painfully at an unnatural angle, he kicked wildly. With a sigh of agony tinged relief his boot slipped from his foot and the creature fell heavily upon its side at the base of the rocks.

Not daring to look over the edge, he could hear the angered screeching below. It was not finished with him yet. Bowden rolled to the side, further along the shelf and with a grunt pushed himself to one knee, flexing his burning ankle to assess his chances of climbing further. A seering white hot spasm answered him, he would go no further. Now weeping openly and muttering a crazed mixture of babbled obscenties and beseeching prayers, the only human on Earth dragged himself pathetically toward the ruined chunk of time-capsule, intending to cower behind until his world ended in teeth and thick spittle.

As Bowden’s scratched and bleeding hand pulled himself around to the back of the twisted metal hunk he realised exactly which part of his vessel had survived to offer him meagre shelter. It was the utility section. One final time, hope dared raise a quiet voice in the dark recesses of the time-travellers reeling mind. Navigating his way across familiar contours Bowden let slip a curled, manic smile as hefound purchase under a hinged bar. No sooner had his fingers tightened around it, but a dark shape flashed before him. A heavy thud and a snarl announced the velociraptors succesful leap and arrival upon the stony shelf.

“Come on then you sunnuvabitch, eat me. EAT ME!”

As Bowden’s screamed words left his hoarse throat the ravenous and enraged dinosaur bolted toward him, maw gaping and displaying gleaming deadly teeth. As its primtive reptilian brain began to preempt the sweet metallic taste of fresh blood the creature, now in mid-leap, registered a flciker of movement from its prey. It knew there could be no escape. It would feast.

——————————————————-

Bowden laughed again, as he had done intermittenly for nearly an hour. A booming and wild laugh. Had there been anybody, anywhere, to hear it, it would have chilled them to their soul. It was the desperate mirth of the insane, of a mind pushed beyond mortal limits, a reaction to a joke near cosmic in its irony and tragedy.

As his mirth reduced once more to a spluttering chuckle his eyes fell upon the instrument of his continued survival. Embedded deep into the broken and ruined skull of the dinosaur was a State-issue fireaxe, freed from its place in the utility compartment. He replayed the moment in his minds eye, a small flicker of pride in his quick reactions and brutal accuracy remained, despite the reality of his situation.

He was the only human alive on a hostile and alien earth. Out of time, out of place. His mission to seek help for a doomed future from an ignorant past was a catyclismic failure. The human race had run its last. Sitting alone, wounded and half-mad, with only the shelter of a shallow cave and the company of a blood stained axe, he was sure it could get no worse.

It began to rain.