Nublar's Seventh

"We're a team, or we're nothing at all."

The group of kids walked in tense silence, their steps uneven, their minds heavy with the weight of everything that had just happened. The jungle around them was eerily quiet, except for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. It didn't feel safe. Nothing did anymore.

Yasmina stayed glued to Hazel's side, her hand brushing against her friend's arm every few steps as if to make sure she was still there. Hazel had been hurt, and Yasmina didn't want to let her out of her sight again—not after what had happened on the zipline. She didn't trust this island, and she certainly didn't trust fate to be kind to them again.

Up ahead, Darius suddenly gasped and came to an abrupt stop, his eyes wide with horror. The sudden shift sent a ripple through the group, everyone skidding to a halt.

"Where's—No, no! My necklace, I left it in my bunk!"

The moment of realization hit him like a punch to the gut. His breath caught, panic creeping into his voice.

Before anyone could react, a deep, skin-crawling roar echoed through the valley, sending chills down their spines.

"We've got slightly bigger problems than—"

Another roar, louder, more aggressive. Closer.

"We have to run!" Sammy's voice cut through the fear. "Now!"

There was no time to think. The group sprinted, their feet pounding against the ground, lungs burning as they pushed themselves forward with sheer desperation. Leaves and branches whipped at their faces, but they couldn't afford to slow down—not when death was hunting them.

"Everything will be fine once we get to camp!"

The hope in Darius' words was strained, the fear barely hidden underneath. Their panting grew heavier, muscles aching with every desperate stride.

Hazel felt like fire was crawling up her legs. Her chest burned with each breath. She hated running—God, why did it have to be running? Why couldn't the dinosaurs be slow like snails?

Finally, they burst through the last of the jungle's foliage and stumbled into the clearing where Camp Cretaceous should have been.

But the sight before them made their stomachs drop.

Camp Cretaceous was gone.

Torn apart. Destroyed.

The treehouse was a shattered skeleton, barely standing, its remains creaking ominously in the wind. The mess hall, the bunks, the lookout post—everything had been reduced to rubble.

Yasmina's breath hitched, her hands trembling at her sides.

Hazel stood frozen, her gaze sweeping over the wreckage, her mind struggling to process it. Their camp—everything they had brought with them—was gone.

Brooklynn gasped quietly beside her. Ben was still catching his breath, hands on his knees, but when he straightened up and caught sight of the destruction, his face paled.

A thick silence settled over them.

Sammy's voice was small, laced with fragile hope. "Dave, Roxie, the other workers, they must've all gotten away..."

But even she didn't seem convinced.

Ben hesitantly stepped toward a Camp Cretaceous vehicle that had been overturned and nearly flattened. He peered inside—and immediately let out a shaky breath, stumbling back in horror.

"Not all of them..."

His voice was barely a whisper.

Yasmina and Hazel walked carefully through what remained of the front entrance, their eyes scanning the ground. Hazel nearly tripped over a broken piece of wood, and as Yasmina bent down to move it aside, something caught her eye.