Tomb of the Triceratops

After downing pepperoni pizza leftovers from the night before, Gabriel and Leo slammed their energy drinks and tossed the cans aside.

When they heard the front door clunk shut, Leo checked the clock. Where does your brother go this early on a Saturday? Nobody’s even alive at this hour unless they’ve been up all night like us.

Gabriel shrugged. Who cares? You ready?

You know me. I’m always down to prank a bathroom. As Leo grabbed the roll of clear packing tape, he glanced down the hall. Hold up. His voice dropped to a whisper. Didn’t you say your brother always locks his bedroom when he leaves?

Stopping his search for scissors, Gabriel turned. Like a bank vault. Why?

Cause it’s open.

Gabriel’s pulse quickened. He dropped the plastic wrap and closed the junk drawer. Change in plan. We’re going in.

Pausing as his brother’s door swung open, Gabriel half expected some booby trap to snap shut in his face. He breathed easier when no alarms rang or stink bombs exploded.

On the cream walls, large posters and detailed drawings of raptors, triceratops and t-rexes had countless sticky-notes on them. Sprawling lines of contrasting colors indicated the various inaccuracies of the artists’ renderings. Leo studied a few, but Gabriel dismissed them with a wave of his hand.

Dude, what’s up with all the dino drawings? Looks like he’s trying to fix ’em. He some kind of expert?

Slowly, Gabriel raised an eyebrow. Seriously, you’ve never asked Dan about dinosaurs?

No. Leo shrugged. What a serious geek, though. I mean no one’s seen a real dinosaur, so why would he care if this one’s tail is too wide?

Let me clue you in on my big brother. Everyone knows he’s smart and he lives and breathes dinosaurs. He’s so obsessed, in fact, he snuck into a restricted fossil area at a museum which should have landed him in so much trouble. But somehow they let him off.

Really? He snuck in?

Gabriel flashed a smile. Yep. During his school trip to the Field Museum, he tried to slide into their research wing. Claimed he just wanted to see the fossils they had. What a loser.

That doesn’t sound like your brother.

Since mom died, he’s changed. Gabriel gave a long sigh. We used to be tight. Now he only talks with those dorks: Chris the jockstrap and Pat the birdboy.

I never figured Dan as snobby.

"The part that kills me was after his stunt in Chicago—my dad takes him and his friends out west on a real dinosaur dig. Can you believe they left me behind?"

That blows.

Gabriel felt his anger rise every time he thought of the trip. Checking the room, his gaze fell to a tattered blue and gold quilt covering a low object in the corner. He pulled off the quilt to reveal a wooden-slatted trunk. I heard him mention this fossil chest, but I’ve never seen it before. Gimme your knife.

Leo pulled a jackknife from his pocket as Gabriel knelt in front of the old chest. With knife in hand, the chipped blade slid in behind the trunk’s brass lock. He pried.

Easy, dude! That’s a knife, not a pry bar, Leo said. I thought we were just looking around, not breaking in.

Gabriel locked eyes with Leo. You just don’t get it. My dad thinks Daniel’s perfect when I’m the one who busts my butt to get good grades. Then I get shut out of the trip-of-a-lifetime because I’m too young. No, it isn’t wrong to break in—it’s wrong to keep me out!

On Daniel’s cluttered desk, Gabriel spied a flat-bladed screwdriver mixed among the pens and pencils in a mug with the words World’s Best Mom hand-painted on the side. He tossed the open jackknife to Leo as he reached for the screwdriver. Straining until some hidden mechanism inside the lock snapped, the metal clasp finally popped open. The boys hovered over the open chest peering at the unusual bundles neatly arranged inside.

Leo grabbed a thick spike wrapped in an old sock. Guess it won’t hurt to look since its open. He held the spike for Gabriel to see. This sick or what? Reminds me of a miniature elephant tusk.

Gabriel examined it closer. The boney spike was jagged at the stump and honed to a sharp point at the tip. Solid or hollow?

"Solid and heavy. Look! There’s a label: Tail spike of adolescent stegosaur. Wow! Did he bring this back from that dino dig? Awesome."

Oh, he’s so full of it. First, when you go on a dig, they don’t just let you bring home fossils as souvenirs. Second, if this were from a real dinosaur, it’d be fossilized. Grabbing the spike, Gabriel flipped it in his hand. You even know what a fossil is?

Leo shrugged.

Fossils are dark stone, bonehead.

But, dude, it isn’t dark.

Duh, and it’s not stone. Gabriel held the spike next to his side. Most likely, this spike is a leftover rib from a barbecue. Probably used it to trick his dumb friends.

Leo chuckled. No one can be that hardcore.

Gabriel could only shake his head. You have no idea.

Hey, what’s that stick in the corner with the bandana on it? Weird. Leo leaned over the chest and lifted a long, heavy pole. Check out the freaky symbols burned in it. And what are these pointy knobs on the sides? Putting his nose next to the grain, he inhaled. Has an odd smell . . . hard to describe.

Gabriel ducked as Leo swung the stick. Hey, watch it.

Bet you could use this baby for some serious stick fighting. Leo swung the stick again, knocking a mug to the floor. Pens and pencils scattered over the carpet.

Oops.

Behind him, down the hall, Gabriel heard the front door open then close. Crud. Dan’s back. Quick, clean this up.

Busted

Something was up the moment Daniel walked in. The house was quiet, too quiet. He checked for the boys in the kitchen and then the living room. Messy but empty. When he spotted his open bedroom door, he rushed forward.

Hurry, Gabriel muttered. Still holding onto the artifacts, the boys picked up pencils one-handed.

Tossing the box he carried onto his bed, Daniel yanked the stick from Leo then jerked the spike from Gabriel’s hand. Doesn’t he realize these aren’t toys? This stuff is irreplaceable!

Nobody moved. Anger surged through Daniel’s face. He aimed the spike towards the door. Get out.

Leo’s eyes skittered back and forth, checking Gabriel for support. We weren’t gonna take nothing. Honest. We just wanted to check out the fossils, that’s all.

Daniel felt violated as he surveyed the mess. Fossils and papers lay scattered. He cradled the empty mug. I run to the post office for ten minutes and you guys ransack my room? Just leave it and go!

Nothing here anyway, Gabriel said, making for the door.

Leo turned, his eyes glued to the floor. However, he didn’t leave. Don’t be mad at Gabe. It’s my fault, really. But I have to know one thing. He looked at Daniel. Is that really a stegosaur spike?

Squeezing the spike, the memory of how he got it gave him a chill. Some secrets are best not shared. Daniel faced the window.

Gabe said it should be fossilized rock, not a bone like that.

It was easy to ignore Leo’s comment.

And where’d you get that cool walking stick? Never seen symbols like those before. Come on, can’t you tell us at least a little about it? It wasn’t even in the chest.

Although Daniel’s anger began to recede, he held firm. Leo’s not a bad kid, but they’re not ready.

My dad builds handcrafted cabinets out of all kinds of wood like oak and cherry—you name it, but I’ve never seen wood like this. Feels good in your hand and it smells like—this sounds crazy—but it smells kinda like rotten eggs. What type of tree is it from?

Striding into the room, Gabriel grabbed his friend’s arm. "Come on Leo, he’s not going to tell you squat. You’re not one of his friends. Besides, he wouldn’t know the truth if it bit him. Let’s go before he uses that spike on you."

Daniel stared at the spike in his palm. So Gabe wants truth? Let’s see if he can handle some. This really is from a stegosaur.

Sure it is. You don’t even know what a real fossil is either. Told dad spending all that money on a private school was a waste. Gabriel pulled Leo’s arm. Come on.

Doesn’t look like a normal fossil, does it? Daniel asked.

That spike ain’t stone, Sherlock.

Nodding, Daniel studied the intolerance in Gabriel’s eyes. True, it isn’t fossilized. But it’s still from a stegosaur’s tail. And this isn’t a regular stick, it’s a—

Fake. Gabriel scowled. Like I said, it’s nothing, because you can’t prove anything here is real . . . can ya?

His little brother always knew just the right words to grind Daniel’s sand. Prove it to who—you thieves? The instant the words left Daniel’s lips, he regretted them.

Leo grabbed Gabriel’s cocked arm. Don’t do somethin’ stupid. He dragged Gabriel into the hall and slammed the door.

Disappointed by his brother’s lack of respect, Daniel tapped the jimmied lock. Carefully, he rewrapped and returned the items to their proper place in the chest.

He couldn’t help but smile as he overheard the boys arguing in the hall. Gabriel is passionate about everything. Just like mom.

His father had warned that Gabriel was still young and impulsive, and his actions, both good and bad, would be magnified by their loss. Daniel hadn’t really understood what his father meant—until now. His mother always said he was a role model for Gabriel whether he wanted the job or not. When they were younger, it was easy. But after Gabriel started middle school, he became angry and distant and never wanted anyone’s advice.

It’s safer to not get involved.

The rap of knuckles on wood interrupted Daniel’s thoughts. He ignored the knock. A few seconds later, the tapping returned, a touch out of rhythm, yet strong and determined.

He has mom’s persistence, too.

Opening the door, Gabriel and Leo shuffled in. No one spoke.

The seconds felt like hours as Daniel struggled with his conflicting feelings. I want to tell him. I should tell him. But what if he can’t handle it? He tried to think of clever words or a joke to ease the tension, yet none came.

Gabriel glanced up, clearing his throat. I’m kinda sorry. We shouldn’t have snooped. Leo and I were talking. We’d like to hear about your trip . . . and the fossils.

This was too much for Daniel. The shame of yelling earlier made his guts ache. His gaze dropped to the carpet. What a terrible role model I turned out to be.

The next thing he felt was Gabriel’s index finger poking his chest.

"See, that’s exactly what I mean. Mom’s gone and Dad’s constantly at work. You’ve been back for days and have hardly said two words to me. I ask for one tiny thing—and this is what I get! I’m done. I’m through with this poor excuse of a family."

Wait. It’s not what you think. Daniel scooped clutter off an extra stool and turned his desk chair around. He motioned for the boys to sit. Let me explain.

Leo cautiously sat while Gabriel watched him.

I suppose it’s time I told you something about the trip. It’s hard to keep the world’s best secret. The words caught both their eyes. Can I trust you guys? And I mean really trust you?

Gabriel’s crinkled nose showed that he was trying to gauge the situation.

Knowing his brother’s short attention, Daniel realized this was his chance. I have to make this right with Gabe. To calm himself, he took a deep breath. No matter what you think of my story, even if it’s the biggest heap of manure you ever heard, you can’t repeat it to anyone. Ever. Got it?

What’s the big deal? Gabriel stared straight ahead, unflinching.

Leo elbowed him. They shoved each other.

Oh, all right, Gabriel finally agreed.

I’m cool, Leo added.

Lifting a tough yellow doublet from the chest, Daniel swung it over his shoulders. With a touch, he smoothed out the black jagged borders woven along the bottom. He felt noble as he fastened the hooks. Holding up the heavy stick, he faced the boys.

About this stick, it’s actually a— He removed the blue bandana wrapped around the top of the stick revealing narrow slots. With one hand, he slid the spike into the top.

Leo’s eyes widened. A weapon. Nice!

But Gabriel shook his head. That’s fake too! Stegosaurs were extinct for millions of years before humans were around, so no human could use a stegosaur spike as a weapon.

Daniel’s gaze held steady. "I never said this was made by a human. But if you don’t want to hear about my trip, I understand. At times I can barely believe it myself, and I was there. He grabbed the spike, wrenched it from the stick then placed it on the desk. Just remember, I offered."

With his arms crossed, Gabriel leaned back. Sure then, fine. Tell away.

An inner smile warmed Daniel. Finally, I got something right.

Before I get started, I have a question: what’s your favorite dinosaur?

That’s easy, Leo said. T-rex.

Shifting his feet, Gabriel didn’t answer.

I know what you mean, T-rex used to be my favorite, too, Daniel said. But lately, I like my dinosaurs a bit friendlier. Take the humble triceratops, they’re quite remarkable.

Leo and Gabriel exchanged glances.

For a moment, Daniel stared at the picture of a triceratops on his wall. Then he gazed at the boys. "Now imagine if there was a place—a special place that ignored time—where you could see both a T-rex and a triceratops. Would you go?"

What kinda question is that? Gabriel raised a skeptical eyebrow. We thought you were gonna tell us about the weapon stick and your trip to the dig site?

Leo sat forward. Go on, I’m all ears.

What I’m trying to say is that there’s way more to my story than just the dinosaur dig. But you are right; it started when we arrived in the Badlands of Montana.

Montana Meteorites

A tall, whirling dust devil threw sand into the air as Daniel, Chris and Pat bailed out of the van. Tired and stiff from the ride, Daniel stretched his back while Chris did deep knee bends. Pat scanned the sky.

Ever since they planned this trip, Daniel had waited for this very moment, their first look at the camp. He tried to soak in every desolate detail of the stark hills and the uneven flats that surrounded them on the edge of the Montana Badlands.

They waited outside a rusty trailer parked at the entrance of the paleontology dig site. Daniel envisioned a shiny new trailer filled with the latest, most high-tech equipment possible, not this rusty dumpster with windows. Hardly more than an old hunting camper, it had multiple antennas and satellite dishes poking skyward that made the top of the trailer resemble a high-tech metal cactus. Daniel’s father went inside to search for the dig director.

After wiping his glasses, Pat smoothed his unruly blonde hair. "Are you sure these are the Badlands? Way different than the pictures I saw."

Daniel peered into the distance. Beautiful and desolate.

"What? This place looks downright hostile to me. And this sun will blister your skin if you don’t screen up. Pat rubbed on white SPF 100+. How do the birds manage in this heat? It’s like walking on the surface of Mercury during a sunspot. And speaking of birds . . ." He pulled out his bird book.

Chris leaned into Daniel’s ear. Here we go.

"Keep your eyes peeled for a Marbled Godwit. It has a two-colored bill and long legs. I would love to get a picture of one. He flipped the page. Or maybe a Black-Billed Magpie. They have black and white feathers with a long tail and green highlights."

A door slammed at the far end of the trailer and three university students emerged wearing cowboy hats and sunglasses. Two of them lugged aluminum cases over to a tall, green Jeep with knobby tires. Plastic tubs were tied to its extended rack. Nodding, the students hopped in and drove off.

Chris adjusted his Detroit Tigers ball cap. With all that fancy equipment, I wonder what they’re lookin’ for?

Daniel shrugged just as a rugged voice boomed behind him. He turned.

Welcome, gentlemen. A big man with a peppered grey beard wearing a khaki vest and matching wide brimmed hat strode up. You are standing on the shore of what used to be the vast inland sea. To our west, the Rocky Mountains were pushing their way upward while volcanoes were erupting where Idaho and Nevada are today. The damp, warm weather of the time created a wonderful environment for plant growth. This was a perfect place for dinosaurs to live. But that was eighty million years ago. Now the weather’s completely changed; it’s cold and snowy in the winter, and hot as the dickens in the summer. For paleontologists, however, this is the land of buried treasure.

It’s also the land of buried rocks, Daniel’s father added, mopping his brow with a white handkerchief. But before we get any deeper into bad metaphors, I want to introduce my good friend, Doctor Bucholtz.

Please, call me Reinhart. He extended his sweaty hand for Daniel to shake. I’m the chief overseer at Camp Alpha, or Camp Dry Bones, as some of the students call it. Now I understand you boys visited Sue this past winter at the Field Museum in Chicago . . . and caused quite a stir?

Daniel felt his cheeks redden. Does everyone know about the museum?

A door was propped open and I went the wrong way. He shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal, really, I just had to explain it to the security guards. But you were telling us about Sue.

Yes, those famous and expensive fossils were discovered on private property, and the whole ordeal caused a bit of consternation, not to mention a fortune, to resolve. Have no worries about any discoveries we make here. Reinhart spread his arms wide. We are on leased soil, nowhere near where Sue was discovered. But you must know that I have one standing rule: If anyone makes a discovery, like the one with Sue involving millions of dollars, they have to share a portion of it to help replace my digger’s knees. He laughed.

Since Daniel had dreamed of being a paleontologist, it was good to know at least some were interesting. Paleo humor. Odd but fun.

Reinhart pointed to the old trailer. Our camp headquarters include the communications center, the first aid station, and the geologic plotter. If you have any serious problems, come to this trailer and someone will always know how to reach me. As for accommodations, you will be in one of the campers just to the north of us. Reinhart glanced at his watch. Follow me to the mess tent, since they begin serving lunch in a few minutes and it’s always better hot than cold.

Chris stepped forward. I’m starvin’.

But Daniel had more questions. After lunch, will we get a camp tour?

Ann Purski has volunteered to show you around. She is our site supervisor, organizing the interns here. She’s also extraordinarily capable and extremely intelligent. Now, about that lunch, they have wonderful hamburgers today, but if you have a delicate stomach, avoid the meatloaf tomorrow.

Since Daniel was so anxious to see what else was going on, he could barely eat. At the end of their lunch, Reinhart pushed the dirty trays aside and removed an oversize map from his pocket. He spread it wide across the table and, leaning forward, held his index finger over the middle.

In the Badlands, there are various types of geologic formations, but this one appears only here. And this specially enhanced map created by one of our students from the physics department illustrates some unique features of this year’s location.

Daniel’s father wiped his mouth. What Reinhart’s trying to say is that you can recognize the different layers of the inland sea floor by their colors on this map.

Chris nodded. That a fancy way of sayin’ there’s old mud here?

That’s right. There’s a link between this old mud and certain fossils. But go ahead, R.B.—I mean Reinhart. I didn’t mean to steal your thunder.

Last year, one of our top graduate students speculated about a link between the amounts of active particles with large quantities of Cretaceous fossils. The darker shading on the map indicates the concentration.

This was news to Daniel. He had never heard of such a thing. What do particles have to do with fossils?

A broad smile spread across Reinhart’s face. We took a big risk in digging here because our location was based solely on the premise of Vince’s thesis; yet our results are astonishing. One team has already recovered a complete stygimoloch.

Daniel leaned in close to Pat and Chris. The name means ‘demon from the Styx’. It’s a two legged dinosaur with a bald head and spikes. Think Friar Tuck with a boney crown.

Reinhart continued. In fact, we’ve uncovered more fossils in our short time here than we have in the previous two digs combined. And many are quite rare. So . . . there’s a lot of work to do to get them out and pack them up. That’s where you boys come in.

Chris sat up. Can we dig? Shovels are awesome.

Reinhart looked Chris up and down. Don’t worry, Ann will have someone cover the proper procedures for the tools you will be using. Now let me assure each of you, there will be ample opportunities to get your hands dirty, but pay close attention to Ann’s instructions on how to work around fossils because all of these specimens are unique and irreplaceable.

Daniel couldn’t help but smile. Finally, they’re talking my language. He gazed at the map again. Are these particles radioactive?

Pat’s hand shot up. Will we need protective suits?

The boys exchanged worried glances as the table stirred with excitement. Reinhart waved for calm. Such excellent questions, quite insightful really. And let me assure you, our site is completely safe. But to your question, these ancient minerals possess minute amounts of radioactivity. They are, after all, from deep space.

Fossils and meteorites. No way. Daniel’s heart began to race because these were two of his favorite things.

Are you sayin’ aliens killed the dinosaurs? Chris asked.

Reinhart shook his head then sipped from his ice tea. No. But a large meteorite, or many smaller ones, struck Montana during the Cretaceous period, leaving their dusty remains for us to find.

I read about an asteroid that created a dust cloud so big it blocked out the sun, and killed all the plants. Pat spoke quickly. And without plants, the dinosaurs starved.

That is one theory of dinosaur extinction. However, we are concerned with different matters here. These meteorites would have been far too small to cause any catastrophe—unless they struck you directly.

Although Reinhart smiled and spoke with candor, Daniel heard a bit of reluctance in his voice like he was holding information back. What’s so important about these meteorites?

Theories, many theories. Reinhart looked straight at Daniel’s father. However, the more we discover, the more questions we raise.

Daniel stood over the complicated map to get a better view. These aren’t just random patterns, something’s going on here.

He touched the center of the map. "If this ‘X’ is the camp then we’re only at the edge of a really dark green clump. Why didn’t you go