Currently not available on the App Store.

Hamsville Background Story

The Pteranodon Attack

by Martin J. Rehder
(c) 2012 Martin J. Rehder

Download as PDF

Chapter 1 - The Mountain Site

A gust of wind moved the fallen leaves and left barren spots on the ground. The late november sun was settings fast in the west behind the mountain ridge and delved the land into a dim blueish grey light. It was cold. Much colder as it used to be at this time of the year and the wind brought the chill right to the bones. A mouse searched for food amongst the leaves and its small hairs were occasionally stirred. There was little to eat. It was time to find a place to sleep away winters grasp.
The mouse was disturbed by a rhythmic drumming sound and the small ears turned and twitched to make out the source. It spotted a man at a fence, which the mouse accepted as a safe distance. It hesitated a little longer and then went back to its futile search for food.
The man stopped his work on the fence. Enough, he thought. This has to do. He collected his tools and with a last glance towards the setting sun, he walked to his truck. "Winter is coming early this year", he grumbled to himself, "will be a long one too." He placed the tools carefully in the back of the truck. One by one. He took his time. He knew it will be months before he would return to the fields. He loved his job.
The sunlight had almost disappeared and the farmer cleaned his boots on the frost hardened ground before he got into the truck. It took a while before the old diesel engine started. The heater was long beyond repair, but he did not care. He was used to bad and cold weather.
As he set the truck into motion some shadows passed by over him, but even though he was a little perplexed by the size, he ignored it. Must have been something tossed around by the wind. He drove towards his farmhouse and his spirit raised by the thought of dinner. His wife was a good cook.

Dinner was far from ready when he returned to the house. His wife spent all day preparing for the guests they expected tomorrow.
"Stop cleaning and make me some dinner, wife!", he said with a sour face, after he realized that facts had replaced his daydreams with an empty stomach and no immediate relief in sight.
His wording did the opposite of what he wanted. His wife ignored him for the next two hours and when dinner finally was ready, she placed it roughly in front of him with a risen eyebrow.
"Anything else, Sire?", she said with a sneer and a in a tone, which told him, that there will be in fact nothing else for the rest of the day.
"No, thanks", he muttered and looked at the cold dinner in front of him.

The next morning. White rim was all over the landscape. Shadows from the three small evergreen trees cast long bulky lines towards the house. The farmer planted these, so he did not have to stride far for collecting a christmas tree. He would pick the one to the left, he thought. It had the right size and was grown almost perfectly symmetrical.
At 9 o'clock the sun had just risen in the east over the Pinecrest forest. The living room was silent. Only the steady sound of the wall clock was to hear. A faint orange ball was just visible in the sky and cast 4 long shadows into the farmers garden.
The farmers wife prepared various dishes for lunch. The first guests were expected at noon and she was far from ready yet. Lines of concern showed on her forehead. She had to dress properly yet. This was a rare occasion and only her finest clothes would do. She hurried past the living room to check her wardrobe once more. Just to make sure everything was still ready there.
She had to turn on the light, because the sunlight was too dim to see any details in the far corner of the room and the five shadows did their part of obscuring the sun.

The guests arrived just past noon. An hour later the farmhouse was pretty crowded and everybody waited anxiously to have lunch.
The little mouse was still searching for food, when it was disturbed by distant shrieks and cries. Someone else had a feast…

Chapter 2 - A Casual Greeting

It smelled of freshly baked bread and coffee. A lonely car drove through the inner city of Hamsville and shortly interrupted the conversation between two women.
"Yes, ", one said to the other, "but have you seen the dress she wore yesterday?"
Before the other woman could reply, a little boy rushed passed the two. He almost stumbled when he accidentally stepped on one of the women's feet.
"Ouch, Chris! You little… stop running around like a wild dog. Come back now and apologize!", cried that woman, now limbing on one foot. Chris was too excited to notice the incident and did not pay attention to anything but the box in his hands. He had to tell Mr. C. about what he had achieved.

The orange sun was just climbing high enough into the sky to be visible above the roofs. No winds disturbed the many leaves on the main road. Even though it was a lovely sunny morning, people drew their clothes tightly around them. It was a rather cold day again.
Mr. C. carried the garbage out from his shop. An everyday routine for him. He lived on the top floor of his two story tall building, above his tools shop. He had to carry the trash out from the cellar, where he also had a primitive storage for various wares.
His father founded the shop 40 years ago, when the first railroad connected Hamsville to the nearest metropole. When Mr. C. came back from France after fighting in The Great War, his father retired. The tools shop was not a gold mine and would never make a rich man out of Mr. C., but he would never be poor either and still had enough time for various hobbies.

"Mr. C., Mr. C. !", Chris cried out as he saw the tall man on the other side of the road after turning the corner into the main street. Little Chris hurried over the street, regardless any dangers such an action might involve. Once Chris was close enough to Mr. C. without having to shout, he cried out with a high pitched voice:
"Mr. C. to guess what is in the box!"
The man looked at the small box, which was a little smaller than a shoe box. Mr. C. wrinkled his nose and slightly tilted his head and just said, "hm…" with a deep voice.
"It's a mouse, Mr. C, it's a mouse!", Chris blurted out. A nearby woman's eyes widened in shock and she hurried along.
"I caught it!", Chris said excitedly, "I put a piece of apple under the box and I used a thin rope to let the box fall over the mouse, just like in the comic book I've read last week!". The words just poured out of little Chris like a steady stream of water.
Mr. C. asked with a deep voice and a long stretched: "Why?"
The biggest smile possible appeared on the face of Chris, as he proclaimed: "Because aunt Tilly's cat ran away!"

"Is the mouse still alive?", Mr. C. inquired.
"Oh Yes!", came it out, breathlessly.
"Sure? You know that mice also need food and water, right?
"Oh…", Chris said, suddenly very thoughtful.
Chris shook the box a little bit and a small speak was heard. The smile reappeared on Chris' face.
"So, to what purpose will you use the mouse?", Mr. C. asked and it would be clear to any grown up, that he had figured the whole thing out already.
Chris told about his plan to trap the cat in the same manner he trapped the mouse. Just using the mouse as bait instead of a piece of fruit."

"What is so special about that mouse?", Mr. C. asked.
"So, why should the cat want to catch that particular one and not another one among the many mice scurrying around the city?"
"Hm…". Chris was lost in troubled thoughts now.
"What if the cat already ate", Mr. C. continued, "and just wants to play with the trap and accidentally springs it?"
"Hm… but, but cats eat mice, right?", Chris asked frantically.
"Yes, among other things. You caught a mouse, which is fairly easy, because there are lots of them. They must eat all the time and you were not interested in a particular one."
With a short pause, so that Chris could take the words in, Mr. C. continued his lecture:
"You are interested in catching a particular cat, which is much more tricky. Also, because cats are very cautious and not so easily fooled."
"But how do I catch it? The cat, I mean"
"You have to start thinking the other way around. What do you know about the cat and what would you be interested in, when you were this particular cat?", said Mr. C. with his head tilted down slightly more than he needed to in order to look Chris in his eyes.
"I have to think about that.", Chris said thoughtfully and he sat down on the doorstep of the tools shop.
Mr. C. walked to the trashcan and said over his shoulder: "and remember to feed your mouse!"

Chapter 3 - Maundering

The sun was a pale spot in the sky. It did not warm the air as it used to do the last couple of month. A chill breeze came over the wide lake just outside the inner part of Hamsville.
Mr.C. and Chris walked the newly paved road towards medieval city.
"Why do we build a new city?", asked Chris. "Is there not enough space in the old one?"
"The medieval city is not built to live in. The mayor thinks, that it will become a tourist attraction", replied Mr.C.
"What is a tourist?", asked Chris frowning.
"It's a person typically on vacation, who wants to see something new."
"But, but, then we have to build a new city every year!", said Chris.
"Why do you thinks so?"
"Because otherwise it would not be new!", concluded Chris.
Mr.C. smirked. "Or, ", he said, "we have to find new tourists every year."
"Oh, but that will be a lot of strangers.", Chris said, scrubbing his nose.
Chris thought for a moment, then asked: "Why do we need tourists?"
"Tourists will spent their money in our town and then we will have a better life. That is at least what the mayor envisions."
Chris thought some more and then remembered something, which he just recently heard:
"Is the mayor sure that he can catch tourists with that meval city. Is that what the tourists are interested in?"
Mr.C. raised his eyebrows and looked at Chris surprisingly. "I think you should be at the next towns meetings.", he said, "And it is called medieval city."

The next couple of minutes, Chris was occupied thinking about his cat problem again. So, the two of them walked silently along, until the towers of the medieval city came into view.
"There must be a lot of big stones somewhere.", Chris said, looking at the enormous buildings.
"Actually, only the ground level and a little bit of the first floor is made of stones. The rest is painted wood.", Mr.C. told Chris. "The stones were taken from a medieval english castle and ferried over the atlantic."
"Castle?", asked Chris, his eyes beaming. "Why didn't we rebuild it as it was?"
"The original was a simple square building without towers. Most people expect towers and a complex structure when thinking of medieval castles. So it was decided to use the massive stones at the bottom, where people can touch them and use simple tree, concrete and paint for the rest."
"But then it is not really a medieval city.", Chris said bitterly.

A black cat walked slowly across the street. It seemed as if it was lost. Turning right, walking a couple of steps, turning left, walking for a while. The cat continued in this peculiar pattern, seemingly aimless and indecisive.
"Is that the cat you are searching for?", asked Mr.C., pointing at the black cat.
Chris, who had not noticed the cat, lifted his head quickly and looked around with great anticipation.
"No", he said with a sigh. His mood darkened again.
"I wonder…", began Mr.C., when the cat suddenly spun around, winced, held its paws over the ears and made horrible sounds.
Two seconds later, the cat was silent and lifted its head again slowly.
"Female cats sometimes behave strangely, but I think that one is a male.", Mr.C. stated.
"You mean", started Chris, "when the female wants to have babies?"
This brought a smile on Mr.C.s face. "Eh, yes", he said.
The cat crawled slowly along. Then the previous episode repeated itself. The cat made the same horrible noises and was apparently in great pain. After a short while it was over again.
This time, the cat did not wait for another incident. It ran as fast as it could southbound.
"Maybe the cat is sick?", Chris asked while looking at the cat, which was now at some distance.
"Maybe", said Mr.C., but his answer lacked conviction.

Half an hour later they reached the bridge leading over one of the artificial streams. Mr.C. could see the large weapons. Reminded of The Great War, he averted his gaze. It is only for show, he told himself. Before the mayor had his medieval idea, these weapons were brought here to be the core of a museum. Now, the weapons would be part of the show, where, in a game-like scenario, the medieval city was under attack. How ship cannons and machine guns fit into the medieval era, was something Mr.C. could only shake his head to. He was thankful, that Chris did not ask him about the weapons, again.

Inside the city complex, Mr.C. pointed at the west tower and said to Chris: "I have to deliver the tools to Henry and he is supposed to be in that tower."
"What kind of tools?". Chris asked curiously.
Mr.C. thought for a moment, then he replied: "Why don't you ask Henry about them. He can explain quite perfectly how he uses them."
"I will, I will", promised Chris eagerly.
Mr.C. knew that Henry was not all that good with kids. The Henry's never had kids. He was never told why and he did not ask. Well, today Henry will receive some more experience.

Chapter 4 - Gin & Ginnifer

Gin prepared her items, which she needed for school today. Hastily, she dropped the books and papers into her bag and hurried into the kitchen to grab some food.
Her mother had just placed some sandwiches on the table.
"Sit down and eat, Jane. Do not just take a bite and hurry off.", she said with a stern face.
"Can't!", said Jane, while picking up a sandwich, "am late already. And don't call me Jane. Call me Gin, OK?"
"Your name is Jane. Why should I call you by another name, than the one your father and I gave you?"
"Oh mom!", Jane said pleadingly, "we have been over this so many times. It sounds much better when my friend and I are 'Gin and Ginnifer' and not 'Jane and Ginnifer'"
"I know that you are best friends, but how about Ginnifer calling herself 'Jenny' instead and you keep your name?"
"Mom?!?", Jane exclaimed, rolling her eyes and tilted her head to one side, "you can't be serious!"
"Why do you have to change your name and not Ginnifer?", insisted the mother.
"Because… You see Ginnifer's name is so much better and she is also admired by so many at school. She just can't change her name. Don't you see?"
"No, I do not!", said her mother frankly, "You have every right to be proud of yourself and of your name as Ginnifer is. It is just in your head."
"Mom, I haven't the time now, just call me Gin! See you later".
Jane hurried past her mother and kissed her on the cheek. Seconds later she was out the main door and ran towards the fence.

Teresa watched her daughter leave and went back into the kitchen. "Teenage girls!", she thought with a smirk on her face. Then she heard a noise in the cellar of something dropping to the floor. Had her cat come back?
She opened the door to the cellar and called for her cat, but got no response. She tried to switch on the lights, but strangely the lights remained off.
"Nothing seems to be in my favor, today", she muttered. She got hold of a candle light and found some matches. After lighting the candle, she descended down into the sparsely lit cellar.
Teresa did not find anything unusual. No noises, no movement. Just a strange feeling, that tingled her neck. "Did that shadow at the end of the room just move?", she wondered. She shook her head, disbelievingly.
She turned around to leave and noticed to her horror, that two giant bat-like creates blocked her way. The smaller one was just a little larger than herself. Her eyes turned wide and she could not move a muzzle, so frightened was she. The creatures did not move, they only stared at her.
After a moment, Teresa slowly stumbled backwards. Then she heard something behind her.
A frightful glance around revealed, that she was surrounded by five black creatures with red eyes. The pupils were reptile or cat like vertical slits, though a little wider. A grey-red tint was seen, when light fell on the leathery skin.
A feint voice of a sixth creature began to speak from the shadows.
Hatchling light skin - thunder voice. The voice said in a guttural deep whisper with high pitched intonations on the letter 'i'.
Light skin planet. Bird, reptile - prey. Green sky, green sky. It continued.
Teresa felt a cold shiver down her spine each time the voice paused and started again. It was a completely alien voice. Nothing she had ever heard before. The words were spoken without intonation on anything but the 'i' sound.
The sixths creature stepped out from the shadows. It was slightly smaller than the others. Its body swayed slowly from side to side as it moved towards Teresa. Slowly, very slowly it drew closer, its eyes fixed on the frightened woman. Teresa could not move. The red eyes had her in its spell.
Hatchling mother. Eyes darkness. Day reptile!
A slicing sound was the only thing that a person would be able to hear in the kitchen, if anybody had been there. Two seconds later another sound followed, as if a sack of potatoes were dropped to the floor.
The speaking creature moved quickly up the steps and out of the cellar. Then, it turned abruptly and sprinted into the living room. Its head moved rapidly from left to right and back again. Then it focused on an object under the table and its head tilted slowly to the right.
Another creature entered the room. The first one spun its head around to look at the other one. The newcomer had blood on its beak and waited at the door.
The eye slits of the first bound inwards just for a split second and the creature at the door lowered its head at once, then turned and left.
Focusing again on the small object, the first creature moved towards the table and in one gracious movement it picked up the object with its beak and then darted out of the room.

The others were already gathered at the main entrance. When their leader arrived, one of them used its small claws at one intersection of its wings to open the door just slightly. It made an almost inaudible high pitched sound and waited. The sound was repeated three seconds later from far off, almost like an echo.
Without hesitation and without a sound, the six creates left the house quickly and in perfect coordination. They unfolded theirs wings and started ascending as soon as they were outside.
Two straight ahead, two to the left and two to the right.
A dog began barking to the left. One of the creatures dove down and scooped up the bewildered dog. With a rapid motion of the head, the creature broke the neck of the animal and glided towards some bushes. It dropped the dog from some height directly into the bushes, so the animal was obscured from sight. Then the creature began closing in on its partner further ahead in the air.

Chapter 5 - An Old Friend

The west tower was the largest of the four towers in the medieval city. It was almost a third larger in diameter at the bottom than at the top. This resulted in a quite big ground level, where the soon-to-be welcoming of guests would take place.
Henry was working on the wooden desks lining up almost half of the opposite wall of the entrance.
"Good morning Henry", Mr.C. said when entering.
"Oh, good morning to you too. Ah, the tools. Exactly what I needed now.", Henry said, clapping a desk with his hand twice. "Come over here. This is a perfect place to put them. Later, I will have to fetch some plans at the upper level of this tower. Will you accompany me, Mr.C.?", Henry asked.
"Sure.", said Mr.C. and pushed Chris gently in front of him: "You remember Chris, right?"
"Yes…", answered Henry hesitantly.
"Mr.C. says you can tell me everything about on how you will use the tools and what they can do.", exclaimed Chris with a big smile.
"Does he now?", said Henry looking at Mr.C. with a grim expression.

After the delivery, Mr.C. left the tower again. He would visit his old friend John Cassiter, since he was here anyway. Henry and Chris were entangled in a continuous flow of questions and answers at that time. So, Mr.C. was on his own again.

Little Chris was quite unsatisfied with the answers he got from Henry. There were a lot of you are not old enough and you are still too small to handle and so on. So, ten minutes after Mr.C. had left Henry, Chris also left the tower. The usual workers were outside in the central plaza. Pondering, Chris walked around the premises aimlessly. How could he catch that cat? Then a weird shadow behind one of the lower walls drew his attention. A weird looking moving shadow. Chris didn't hesitate and went after the shadow to investigate.

Twenty-three creatures stood in a circle and stared at a small sandy spot on the ground in the middle of them. One of them swayed for a brief instance. Shortly after another one did the same. This continued for a couple of minutes.
Then the assemble dispersed silently.

Waiting at the usual street corner, Jane saw Ginnifer walk towards her in her usual elegant way.
The girls greeted each other and continued together.
"Ready for the Knitting Club?", Ginnifer asked.
The so-called Knitting Club was what the boys called school at saturdays. Well, it wasn't altogether incorrect, but it still had a bad aftertaste for the girls attending. There were no boys. At least not anymore. There had once been one boy who went as well, only for two weeks though. Then his parents sent him to a special school, they said. Jane had actually liked him. She could talk to him in a way she could not talk to other boys of her age and he was quite sensitive as well. Jane had given up to ask about him and the special school. Answers were sparsely given, if at all.
"Yes, I am ready.", she replied.
Ginnifer started talking about her new haircut and was soon lost in speculating about a certain boy, who, as Jane figured out quickly, was at least twenty five.

Mr.C. looked at Henry while they walked the narrow passage and asked:
"What is that?", pointing at the bulge on Henry's stomach.
"Oh, that!", Henry said, making a pointing sign with his finger.
"It is a gun, which I use to kill rats."
Mr.C's eyes narrowed. "Give it to me", he said, which sounded like a demand he did not expect to be turned down.
"Why?", asked Henry.
"Because, you are not going to shoot rats and posing with a gun while children are visiting this place."
Henry made a disappointing grimace. He hesitated for a moment, but then took the gun from his belt and handed it over.
The two man arrived at the end of the passage and went into the west end tower at its mid section. Mr.C went over to the pile of boxes he had placed there earlier that week and Henry walked to the door at the opposite wall.
Henry opened the door. He expected to see a room full of books on shelves and piles of papers on tables. What he did not expect was a winged creature in the center of the room standing on a heap of books and papers. It looked like a hurricane had struck the room.
The creature swung its head towards Henry and started immediately to advance. Henry, perplexed by the situation, remained where he was. Two seconds later the creature was at him. It rammed its beak into his chest and continued past Henry without paying its victim another glance.
Henry's last action was to say: "Uh", then he fell backwards.
Mr.C. turned around and started to ask: "What is…", but then he saw the black-grey creature leap towards him. Mr.C. acted on instincts as he took the gun out and shot the approaching threat in the chest.
The creature stopped at once. It looked at the gun, then lowered its head to look at the wound. It did not understand what just had happened.
Mr.C.'s racing heart missed a few beats, when the creature lifted it's head slowly towards the window and spoke: "Boss". It sounded almost like a pleading question. Then it collapsed.
It took Mr.C. almost a minute to get over the chock. He cursed himself and hurried over to Henry. The creature had killed Henry with one precise stab of its beak. Mr.C. could see Henry's broken ribs and a pool of blood where his heart once had beaten.
Mr.C. turned his gaze away with disgust. He took a closer look at the creature and asked:
"A pteranodon? Shouldn't you be extinct?". The creature did not answer him.
Then he saw motion in the corner of his eyes. Through the window he could see the east tower. Three other pteranodons ascended into the sky and flew east.

Chapter 6 - It Begins

The sound of sliding rocks was heard far in the distance. Jane looked at the mountains, while Ginnifer was occupied talking about her upcoming christmas appearance.
There was a black spot far up the mountain side, which seemed to pick up a boulder and then set out away from the place in a slowly descending spiral pattern.
"What is that?", asked Jane, pointing at the location.
"What is what? Did you listen to what I just said?", Ginnifer replied indignantly.
"Yes, yes, but look!", Jane exclaimed.
Ginnifer hardly glanced at where Jane was pointing to. "I see nothing."
Suddenly a black shape flew over the edge of the trees in front of the two girls.
"Oh", Jane said fascinated. Ginnifer screamed.
The pteranodon dove down towards them.
"Run towards the trees and find cover!", Jane bellowed at Ginnifer in order to get the message through. Then she pushed her, which did the trick. Ginnifer ran panic-stricken towards the nearest trees to find shelter. Jane set off in the opposite direction.
The pteranodon aware that its prey just had split up and would not be easy to attack from the air any longer, landed.
Ginnifer hid behind a tree and wept. The creature looked at Ginnifer, then at Jane and decided to hunt after Jane. It rapidly closed in on the girl.
Jane had to make sure to get the creatures full attention. She was not willing to let it chase her frightened friend. So she waved with her arms and shouted: "Come here, birdy, birdy, birdy!".
Hearing that, the pteranodon stopped abruptly and let the wings drop an inch. It turned its head, so that one of its eyes had full focus on Jane. It looked annoyed. "Hatchling!", it exclaimed in a coughing tone, then turned and flew off.
The perplexed Jane stated matter-of-factly: "Well, seems like you are allergic to stupid teenage girls, huh?"
Convinced that there were no more creatures nearby, she ran over to Ginnifer. Her friend had fainted and lay behind a tree. Jane was just about to shake her, when she saw the big wet spot in the lower parts of the unconscious girl.
"Yikes Ginnifer, seriously?", she said with a disagreeing shake of her head.
"You will definitely be punished for that later, in this cold weather!"

Mr.C. leaned against the wall, not looking at the horrific scene. He started shaking and his legs threatened to fail him. Vomited right there and then, he thought bitterly: "I had assumed, that I would never see so much violence again".

John went over some papers, when Mr.C. stumbled in.
"Oh my! What happened? You look like a ghost!", John exclaimed when he saw Mr.C.
"Henry is dead.", said Mr.C., his voice rough from vomiting.
"How did that happen?"
"An animal attacked us in the west tower. I shot it, when it tried to attack me. Would you have a look at the scene? You are, after all, the closest thing to a coroner we have."
"Of course", John said. He looked around to find a bag with some utilities he would need.
Mr.C. told John the details, while they went to the west tower.
"A flying dinosaur?", John asked skeptically. "You must admit that sounds quite unbelievable."
"I know", said Mr.C. feeling very tired now. "You will have to see for yourself. If somebody told me he just saw a flying dinosaur, then I would not believe him either."
The two men hastened down the corridor.
Outside gathered some crows above the central city filling the air with loud chatter.

John looked at the flying dinosaur with fascination.
"Are you sure it is a tera.., peta.. ?"
"Pteranodon!", Mr.C. said.
"Yes, that one. How can you be sure?"
The question obviously pained Mr.C., because he went quite pale and it took a while before he said:
"My brother..."
"I see", said John.
"It was a hobby. He knew all there was to know about dinosaurs, so it seemed to me.
I remember most of the drawings he had collected. He even had some bones.
The remnants of a pteranodon was first found in Kansas around 1870, as far as I recall."
Mr.C.'s expression was nondescript as he told John about the flying dinosaurs.
"But," started John, "how did this one get here?"
"That, is a question I would like to have an answer for myself. I think there is a more urgent one to answer first: why? Why is it here. What does it and its friends want. It did not hunt us. It was searching for something. Henry, ", Mr.C. paused for an instance, his stomach revolted again. "Henry just accidentally disturbed it."
"How could it kill Henry so easily? Its torso is not much larger than that of a small dog."
John lifted the dead creature and exclaimed surprised: "It weighs almost nothing, even though it is tall as a man!"
"The bones are not solid and filled with air. Otherwise it could never fly.", Mr.C. said absently.
"One more reason to wonder how it could kill Henry with one blow.", John said looking more closely at the beak. "No teeth.", he observed.
"No, ", said Mr.C., "they are supposed to be fish-eaters. Swallowed their prey whole, just like most birds do. The legs of this one are much more muscular than those drawings from my brother indicated. Also, the long horn on its head is formed differently. Still, I am certain it is a pteranodon."
"We should take it to my home a dissect it.", John said.
Mr.C. groaned, but nodded finally.

High pitched squeaks came from the north at that moment and the two men could see a cloud of black spots advancing.
"We will not have time for investigations now.", said Mr.C. "We need to do something so save the people of this city."
Wide-eyed John asked: "How?"
Mr.C. eyes wandered around the city until his gaze fell on the old machine guns and cannons.
"With that!", he said pointing at the weapons. "Gather every person you can find and also find someone to get the kids to safety.", Mr.C. commanded. "You will find me at the weapons!"