Krack!
I fired twice more.
Krack! Krack!
And then the nanotyrannosaurs were down (but not before one of them had shaken Puck like a ragdoll and launched him into a nearby tree) and we were running toward him. Toward my dog who had gone missing during the Flashback and whom we had long since presumed dead. Toward the broken bundle of fur that had somehow found us and saved our lives.
“Puck!” I cried, trying to rouse him. “Come on, Boy. Wake up.”
“Omigod. Omigod, Nick. Is he—?”
I crouched over him and felt his belly—which was bloated and distended, like that of a starving person—with my gloved hand.
“No. No—he’s breathing. But shallow. Like he’s in a coma.” I looked around the clearing, at the dead tyrannosaurs and the dead man missing his head and shoulders, and at the deadfall, whic
