Don't Go to Ghost Ranch

"Don't go to Ghost Ranch," he had been told by, well, everyone. The folks in the shanty town near the ruins had told him so. The soldiers at the military checkpoint had told him so. Even the mercenaries, who called themselves KPG or something, had told him so. Now, Brysson was crouching next to the body of one of his colleagues while the hooting of small predatory dinosaurs closed in around him.

Different cities were affected in various ways by the 2035 Asteroid, but most of the Northern Hemisphere experienced a severe impact winter, resulting in a deep freeze.

Ghost Ranch was no exception; however, it also faced the additional misfortune of being located directly above one of the richest fossil beds in the Southwest. After the Impact, millions of people all over the world transformed into dinosaurs. Ghost Ranch, in particular, was overwhelmed by thousands of Coelophysis, a species whose bones dominated the local strata.

While no one could definitively explain the phenomenon of these "dinoshifters," it seemed too coincidental that the town was inundated by the very dinosaur species that once thrived there. In response to the situation, what remained of the US military designated the ruins a no-go zone and constructed a twelve-foot-high containment fence around it.

How bad could it be, right? Brysson's outfit, Santa Fe Salvage, believed that the reports about Ghost Ranch were exaggerations meant to scare people away from the pristine wreckage inside the fence.

However, the stories about the ruins of Ghost Ranch were not exaggerated at all. It was indeed crawling with Coelophysis, and being feral, these small carnivorous dinosaurs were fearless. They actively hunted humans, even when easier prey was available. Brysson's company lasted all of twelve hours before night fell, at which point they were overwhelmed by the swarming ferals.

Brysson survived only because he was upstairs in a ruined building when they attacked, and he locked the door behind him. The Coelophysis couldn't climb, but they sensed he was inside and circled the building from street level, looking for a way up. Since they were nocturnal, Brysson hoped they would leave by morning, but that was still hours away, and the ferals clawed at the door behind him.

He prepared himself to make a run for it from the rooftops, but Ghost Ranch wasn't exactly a bustling metropolis before the impact. Still, he could shoot back. Taunting the predators was cathartic and helped him keep his sanity after his colleagues were killed a couple of hours ago. He shot at one of the dinosaurs as it poked its head out of a garage.

"There's more for your friends!" he shouted. "Come one, come all! I have enough for everyone!" He didn't, but neither he nor they cared. He fired another shot, and this time it hit. The dinosaur screeched as it fell on its side, and three more Coelophysis emerged from the shadows to feed. Brysson scattered them with another shot, but he was running short on ammunition. He counted: six rounds—five in the clip and one in the chamber.

He heard scraping claws and cracking wood at the door again, and he understood he didn't have much time. He reloaded his gun and cracked his neck as the door creaked under the weight of so many ferals.

"I never did make it to New Orleans," he said plaintively.

Aiming his gun down the hall at the deteriorating door, he prepared to go out in a blaze of glory when there was a thunderous, bellowing roar. The Coelophysis heard it too and scampered away from the door, either in fear or to investigate the potential new meal. Brysson couldn't tell which.

He ducked behind the partially collapsed wall of the building and scanned the ruins for the source of the noise. Out of the shadows lumbered a Stegosaurus, moving like a massive truck. It reared up on its hind legs and bellowed again. A swarm of predators charged forward without any cohesion or strategy—just a mindless horde. Dozens of Coelophysis rushed at the much larger dinosaur, and he feared the Stegosaurus might be overwhelmed.

He needn't have worried. The Stegosaurus charged and swung its spiked tail in sweeping arcs, slicing through the ferals like chaff. Still, there was only one Stegosaurus against many predators. One of the attackers leaped off the hood of a car and onto the Stegosaurus's head, gnawing and clawing at its neck and eyes.

Brysson took a deep breath, aimed, and fired as soon as he had a clear shot. The feral creature fell away as quickly as it appeared. Most of the Coelophysis scattered after that, but one particularly big individual, possibly a different species, stood its ground. It snarled at the Stegosaurus and sprinted toward it, leaping into the air with its claws glinting in the moonlight—only to be struck aside by the Stegosaurus's tail.

He lowered his gun and craned his neck to look closely at the Stegosaurus. Its large, reptilian form melted away in a cloud of steam. Where all that mass went, he couldn’t guess, but when the steam dissipated, a man was standing where the Stegosaurus had been a moment before.

“Thank God you’re not feral,” Brysson said.

“Can I come up?"

“It’s not much safer up here."

“Well, we’re not staying,” the stranger replied as he entered the room. “I’m Dan.”

“Brysson."

“Are you with the group that broke through the fence this morning? Idiots.”

He shrugged sullenly, feeling defeated. Dan growled and shook his head but said nothing more.

“The soldiers said someone crossed the containment fence,” Dan said, “Asked me to go in and look for survivors. I followed your gunshots, and here we are.”

“Oh, so I suppose you entered the ruins out of the goodness of your heart,” Brysson said. “Does the military ask you for favors a lot?”

“Come on, we’re sitting targets right now,” Dan said dismissively, “If we don’t keep moving, they’ll surround us.”

Despite Dan’s gruff attitude, Brysson wasn’t about to question him. They snuck down the stairs and poked their heads out. The street was still for now, but the Coelophysis pack hooted off in the distance.

“Move between buildings, and stay out of sight,” Dan said, “We can’t outrun them.”

“Why don’t you—what’s the word—power up? Transform into a dinosaur?” he asked. “It'd be a lot safer.”

Dan rolled his eyes.

“Transforming is exhausting with such an extreme difference in mass,” he explained. “I could also turn feral if I transform again too soon; the exhaustion isn’t just physical, you know.”

Being a normal, vanilla human being, Brysson couldn’t understand what he meant, but decided to take his word for it as they slipped out of the wrecked building. Brysson paused for a moment as a shadow crossed the moon, but when he looked up, it had already disappeared.

They kept to the shadows like cockroaches, scurrying from cover to cover. Dan seemed to have a natural sense of direction, even in the dark, or he was familiar with the ruins.

“Wait,” he said, “If we keep following that street, we’ll walk right into the old mall. The place is like a roost for them.”

“You seem to know a lot about this town,” Brysson said. Dan growled again, his default response to most situations.

“I grew up here before the Impact. Now I work my tail off saving idiots like you who come here despite all the warnings. No offense.”

“None taken. It was very stupid of my colleagues and me to come here. You were saying about the mall, though.”

“Need to find a way around."

The road grew more rugged as dawn crept over the horizon, but they still couldn't see the fence.

Now that the shroud of the night was gone, the ferals would catch them more easily. Suddenly, Dan yanked Brysson back by the collar and dragged him into an alley. A pack of them dashed into the street, chasing one that held a half-eaten leg in its mouth.

“I thought they were nocturnal,” Brysson said.

“They always come out at night, but that doesn't mean they're active during the day,” Dan said. “Now shut up!” Brysson nodded as they waited for the pack of feral dinosaurs to move from the intersection.

“Shit,” Dan said. The pack drew closer and closer, prompting them to start backtracking. Then one of them jumped onto the lid of an ancient dumpster. It didn’t see them as they crawled with their backs pressed against the dumpster.

“Shit!” Brysson said.

The one above them hooted and then jumped down, giving them a chance to escape. They ducked into an old clothing store, but to their dismay, they encountered another one inside, forcing them to hide in a clothing rack.

The feral dinosaur stalked down the aisle, tilting its head like a heron or a stork as it listened for any signs of prey. Brysson held his breath as it walked by, its claws clicking on the broken tile. He noticed Dan draw his knife, but they both knew it was only a last resort. Killing it would draw too much attention.

After a nail-biting wait, it walked past them, allowing them to slip out the opposite side of the rack, right into the path of another Coelophysis. Brysson had never been this close to a feral before. While some dinoshifters—those who retained their sanity—exhibited a spark of intelligence in their eyes, indicating that they were still somewhat human, this creature was different. All he could see was a cold, reptilian glare. If it had ever been a person, it was now, without a doubt, completely and utterly a dinosaur.

It screeched at them and lunged, snapping its head forward like a ghoulish cross between a bird and a cobra. Brysson pistol-whipped its snout, and Dan tackled it, driving his knife into its long neck. It screamed in pain, and a second later, the first Coelophysis pounced at them over a counter. Brysson dodged out of the way just in time.

“RUN!” Dan shouted. Brysson didn’t need to be told twice, but he paused to make sure they wouldn’t be followed. As the Coelophysis regained its footing, he shot it once in the center of mass and didn’t wait to see if it died.

As they hurried out of the store, a dozen Coelophysis surrounded them from every direction. Dan pointed at a car leaning against a wall, balancing on its front end. They dashed towards it, aiming to reach the roof, but one dinosaur got there first. Brysson shot it down, but now he was left with only three bullets. Dan assisted him up, boosting him as the creatures closed in. One of them lunged at him, and he kicked it away before Brysson reached out to help him climb onto the car.

“Thanks,” Dan said right before one of the dinosaurs bit his ankle. He screamed and kicked at it. It was too small to fall off under its own weight, but heavy enough that its teeth tore up his leg.

“Shoot it!” Dan said.

“I might hit you!”

“Shoot it!”

Against his better judgment, Brysson fired at the flailing dinosaur, helping Dan scramble onto the top of the car. More and more Coelophysis appeared, tripping over each other as they rushed to reach their prey. The ground was a chaotic mass of scales, feathers, and teeth. With Dan gritting his teeth in pain and only two bullets left, Brysson contemplated the gentlemanly way out of this situation, knowing that the alternative was being eaten alive.

An enormous shadow suddenly passed overhead, causing the Coelophysis to fall silent for a moment. Dan and Brysson glanced upward, witnessing a massive shadow obscuring the sky, accompanied by a twanging, croaking roar. The ferals scattered and fled down the street as a giant, leathery-winged creature—a Hatzegopteryx—landed among them. The Hatzegopteryx let out a roar, chasing a small pack of ferals like a deranged giraffe.

“Dan, we need to go!” Brysson said, realizing their horrific situation had gotten much worse. He helped Dan out of the car and half-carried him into a nearby building. The feral pterosaur roared at the fleeing Coelophysis before turning its unblinking eye on them. With an uncanny grace, it strode toward them.

They barely made it inside when the pterosaur’s six-foot-long beak crashed through the window. Dan and Brysson pressed their backs against the wall, just inches out of reach. After snapping at them several times, the Hatzegopteryx eventually pulled back and disappeared.

“We’ll never make it with that thing hunting us,” Brysson said, “And we can’t stay here either.”

“There’s no we,” Dan said as he limped forward.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“The fence is just three hundred yards away. You might have a chance if I buy you some time. The snipers on the guard tower should cover you.”

“You serious? Your leg’s shredded, even shapeshifting won’t fix that.”

“In my Stegosaurus form, I weigh two tons. The pterodactyl is only 400 pounds. I should be fine.”

“Alright,” Brysson said as he shook Dan’s hand, “If we do meet again, look me up in Santa Fe. I’ll owe you a bourbon.”

“I’m more of a whiskey guy, myself,” Dan said. He walked out the door and winced with pain as his bones broke on their own, reformed, and stretched into his reptilian form. The stegosaurus bellowed a challenge at the gigantic pterosaur, then nodded to Brysson.

Slipping out the back door, Brysson saw the fence across the field. Knowing it was now or never, he psyched himself into the inevitable run. Finally, he sprinted across the field, too terrified to look back.

A pack of Coelophysis spotted him out in the open and gave chase, their hooting and screeching like a choir from hell. He stumbled blindly into a ditch and tumbled into the mud and… other ichor. A Coelophysis poked its head over the rim and jumped in after him. He yelled and punched it in the snout. I jumped back and hissed at him, then lunged. He spotted a chunk of rusty old rebar and swung it, knocking the dinosaur off balance, then he drove the sharp end into the feral’s neck.

He climbed up and over the other side and began running again. Fortunately, the Coelophysis were slowed down by the ditch too. Unfortunately, the Hatzegopteryx was close behind, flying after him. It dove and swooped overhead, its beak grazing the back of his shirt. The creature landed thirty feet in front of him. He fired at it, but another Coelophysis disrupted his aim.

Out of nowhere, Dan lumbered into the fray, swatting the Coelophysis with his tail as though it were an insect. He roared at Brysson, urging him to "get moving!"

Brysson weaved around the Hatzegopteryx, but it pecked at him, and he tripped. It was about to snatch him and swallow him whole when Dan barreled into it at a run. It saw him coming and jumped out of the way just in time. However, while Dan may have had a weight advantage, his mangled leg made him trip, and he fell over in the grass. The Hatzegopteryx landed on top of him and pecked at his eyes.

Brysson glanced at the fence and then back at Dan, who was struggling to dislodge the pterosaur. He thought about making a run for it, knowing he could probably escape, but he realized Dan might not make it. As the pterosaur jabbed its beak into Dan’s thigh, Brysson felt certain that time was running out. He reminded himself he had only one bullet left and steadied his aim. Focusing on the pterosaur's eye and it blinked at him in surprise.

“Smile, you son of a–”

BLAM!

His aim was spot on, and the Hatzegopteryx screeched in agony as it fell to the ground like a battered kite.

Dan’s reptilian form melted away, and he was human again.

“Nice shot,” he said as Brysson helped him to his feet and they limped the rest of the way to the fence.

“You still owe me that whiskey, though. Or a bourbon.”