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A SOUND OF THUNDER 2
The jungle was wide and full of twittering, rustlings, murmurs, and sighs. Suddenly it all ceased, as if someone had shut a door.
Silence.
A sound of thunder.
Out of the mist, one hundred yards away, came Tyrannosaurus Rex. ':.Jesus God," whispered Eckels.
"Sh!"
The Monster at the first motion lunged forward with a terrible scream. It cov¬ered one hundred yards in four seconds. The rifles jerked up and blazed fire. A windstorm from the beast's mouth engulfed them in the stench of slime (cm13b) and old blood. The monster roared, teeth glittering with sun.
Eckels, not looking back, walked blindly to the edge of the Path, his gun limp in his arms, stepped off the Path, and walked into green moss. His legs moved him, and he felt alone and remote from the events behind.
The rifles cracked again. Their sound was lost in a shriekand lizard thunder. Like a stone idol, like a mountain avalanche (naBlI1Ha), Tyrannosaurus fell.
Thundering, it clutched trees, pulled them with it. It wrenched and tore the metal Path. The men flung themselves back and away. The body hit, ten tons of cold flesh and bone.
The thunder faded.
The junglewas silent. After the avalanche, a green peace.After the night¬mare, morning.
In the Time Machine, on his face, Eckels lay shivering. He had found his way back to the Path and climbed into the Machine.
They cleaned their hands and faces. They changed their shirts and pants.
Eckels was up and around again, not speaking.
The machine stopped. "Get out," said Travis.
The room was there as they had left it. But not the same as they had left it.
The same man sat behind the same desk. But the same man did not quitesit
behind the same desk. 1
Travis looked around swiftly. "Everything okay here?" he snapped. "Fine. Welcome home!"
Eckels stood smelling the air ...And there was a feel. His flesh twitched. He stood drinking the oddness with the pores of his body.
But the immediate thing was the sign painted on the office wall, the same sign he had read earlier today on first entering.
Somehow the sign had changed:
lYME SEFARI INC.
SEFARIS TU ANYYEER EN THE PAST.
YU NAIM THE ANIMALL.
WEE TAEK YU THEIR.
YU SHOOT lIT.
Eckels felt himself fall into a chair. He fumbled crazily at the thick slime on his boots. He held up a clod of dirt, trembling. "No, it can't be. Not a little thing like that. No!"
Embedded in the mud, glistening green and gold and black, was a butterfly, very beautiful, and very dead.
"Not a little thing like that! Not a butterfly!" cried Eckels.
It fell on the floor, an exquisite thing, a small thing that could upset balances and knock down a line of small dominoes and then big dominos and then gigan¬tic dominos, all down the years across Time.
His face was cold. His mouth trembled, asking: "Who - who won the presi¬dential election yesterday?"
. The man behind the desk laughed. "You joking? You know damn well. Deutscher, of course! Who else? Not that damn weakling Keith. We got an iron man now, a man with guts,by God." The official stopped. "What's wrong?"
Eckels moaned. He dropped to his knees. He scrabbled at the golden butter¬fly with shaking fingers. "Can't we," he pleaded to the world, to himself, to the officials, to the Machine, "can't we take it back, can't we make it alive again? Can't we start over? Can't we -"