One of the survivors steered for the rubble of the building, but cracked up badly as he tried to ride his Harley back inside. His body went flying like so many others, and the CNN tumor in Roger"s brain said: Old hat, man. Bring on something new.
At last, the remaining two split off in different directions. One got only as far as the rex"s flashing jaws, and began screaming hoarsely as the monster lifted both him and his bike off the ground. They died in the carnosaur"s palate as one twisted lump; like some shrieking, idling medicine ball—all made up of mangled flesh and bent steel.
Roger hoped the gas tank would explode and blow the scaly bastard"s head right off. But it didn"t, and an instant later the rex opened its jaws—letting the crumpled Harley fall smoking to the ground. It crash
