7:12 AM, 4/15

I can't believe I married her. What happened to the freedom-loving punk who bashed people's heads in with her guitar? And who the hell is this softie who replaced her?

I also can't believe we're dangling over a pit of prehistoric beasts. 

"I thought you were a scientist!" shouts Sammy, wriggling against me. We're lashed together, back to back, suspended from the hook of a crane. Beneath us, a deep darkness filled with flat snapping teeth. Every now and again, the sunshine illuminates a scale or a whipping tail.

Death by dinosaur, not the best way to go.

"Well, I am! The way I'm a musician, and an artist, and a motorcycle racer, and an athlete. You know, on the side. Like a hobby."

Sammy blows out a breath. "Well, I guess I figured. Fuck me, man. I was really looking forward to the hula girls and tiki drinks."

"I'll think of something," I say, just as the evil mastermind and electric car company CEO, J. Truman, laughs through the speaker system hooked up all over the island.

"One minute until the meddling reporter and her idiot wife are turned to dinosaur feed!"

"And besides," I say. "His beef is really with you. Even if I was good at science, we'd still be here. You're the reporter. I'm just the idiot wife."

"And I got all dolled up for this, too." She sighs. "If we survive, remind me that I'm never wearing a dress ever, ever again."

***

5:12 AM, 4/15

"You are the most beautiful person I've ever laid eyes upon. But you're not dressed to break into a secret factory."

"I'm not breaking in. You are. I simply have some questions to ask the guy."

We're crouched in palm fonds outside the all-white eight-story building. It's unsettling and sharp against the island fauna. The pink sky reflects softly off the long windows, tropical birds caw in the distance, and two sleepy men stand in front of the tall door. Slowly, we trail to the far side. Sammy leads with her machete, chopping away like she's Indiana Jones. My thighs are itchy and covered in bug bites. I'm stumbling. 

"Besides, you're wearing a mini-skirt!" she offers. 

"You forget that it's because I'm badass." When we reach the back of the building, I pull my paintball pistol from my thigh holster and shoot several shots at the cameras, coating the lenses in purple paint. They make light plinking sounds, and the guards at the front surely can't hear it over my recording of shrieking tropical birds. I raise the volume to disguise the sound of me shattering a back window. Easy. Maybe too easy.

I sweep away the bits of broken glass and, like the gentlewoman I am,  help Sammy through the window. My wife. I'm helping my wife foil a giant dinosaur conspiracy. Very cool.

We're standing in a long deserted hallway when suddenly the lights come on. At the end of it, in all his majesty, the figure of J Truman, stroking a small reptilian beast no larger than a cat. I whip my pistol out. It does not look real. 

"Well, well," he says. The reptile mews. "The biggest story of the century. Too bad you won't be alive to crack it open."

"Ah, so you admit it!" Sammy's eyes are electric. "Why on earth are you trying to bring back dinosaurs?"

"I'm the world's first trillionaire." He shrugs. "And I'm bored."

"Oh," says Sammy. Not the most interesting motivation for her piece.

"Now, then. Guards!" They swarm out of nowhere, a shadow army, at least thirty of them. And I know no amount of paintballs will get us out of this.

***

12:50 AM, 4/15

We stand over a pit of hollowed-out bones, hand in hand. They've been cracked open and scooped out, and though I'm no mystic, it makes me feel sick. Something precious has been destroyed.

"I can't believe it." Sammy's breath hitches. "He really is extracting dinosaur DNA. We've gotta get to his office room in the factory. I need some words with him."

"But it's so late. Or early, I guess."

"For better or for worst, Esther, please?"

"Fine. But you better be there for me in sickness and in health."

***

10:09 PM, 4/14

She takes my breath away, leaning on the dock. Even on our wedding day, she wore a suit. But today she wears a long pink tropical dress, a lei wrapped around her neck, and a dazzling smile. Her always-coiffed hair is long and loose. No pencil behind the ear, no fedora. I move in for a kiss, but she steps back.

"Business before pleasure! Are you ready to hunt for discarded dino bones?"

"There are no dinosaurs, Samantha!"

"You'll be eating those words when they getcha!" She laughs, and then nearly trips on her dress.

***

12:05 PM, 4/10

I stand at the alter, her hands in mine. Her eyes twinkle as the officiant drones on. 'Dinos,' she mouths. I snort and then can't stop laughing. I, Esther Jung, ruin my own wedding.

***

7:08 PM, 2/20

"My publication is sending me to that remote island that J Truman's got."

"The car company CEO?"

"Yeah. There's this crazy rumor that he's resurrecting dinos. Well substantiated, apparently, I just need to find a scientist to bring with me."

"That's perfect! Bring me! Free honeymoon!"

"Are you a scientist? Or go to college for the stuff?"

"Uh, yes," I lie. "Besides, Samantha. There are no dinosaurs."

***

7:13 AM, 4/15

We plunge into the pit, landing hard on rock. It's so dark I see nothing, just hear Sammy groan, and I roll so she's underneath me. My hands search for something sharp, but there's nothing. Hot breath fans my face and a giant mouth of flat teeth glimmer in the sun. I see reptilian eyes and scream.

"I love you." It comes out a sob. "I'm so sorry."

But no bite comes. And then Sammy starts laughing. A little giggle at first, then a howl. "You're a terrible scientist, you know that?"

"Huh?"

"Esther, the teeth!" I look up at the large, flat squares. And then I remember: I'm a scientist.

"Oh," I breathe. "They're herbivores!"