Just ... don’t move, she told herself, understanding that if she moved even a little the thing would apprehend her at once, then virtually held her breath as the velociraptor—yes, velociraptor, just like in Jurassic Park, only this one was blue-black and had a mohawk of oil slick-colored feathers—c****d its head at the screen. At last it lowered its head and she dropped to the carpeted floor, but waited before drawing so much as a breath.
The cabin was quiet except for the drone of the engines and the wet, gristly eating sound—even the TVs had fallen back into static—and she inhaled slowly. Then, just as slowly, she began crawling forward, toward the closed curtain of business class ... and the cockpit.
Scarcely a moment had passed before she heard labored breathing and saw another rapto
