“Freeze!” barked Carter—and the mottled orange and black Utahraptor froze, its knife-shaped head only inches from my own, its breath smelling of fish and rotted meat. “Hold.”
And the Utahraptor held: snarling and growling—hissing, even, like a snake.
“There, see? There’s nothing to be afraid of,” said Carter, calmly. “Now, if we can avoid any further outbursts—let’s continue, shall we? Where was I ...”
“Call it off,” I said, shrinking away from the thing’s muzzle, staring at its yellowed teeth (between which I could see bits of decaying flesh). “Call it off, Carter.”
“Ah—well. So much for the vaunted bravery of the U.S. Armed Forces, eh?” He snapped his fingers quickly, crisply. “Kennel.” But the Utahraptor didn’t budge—indeed, I was pretty sure it only moved closer. “Genghis!” he bark
