Shortly before all hell broke loose, Fran and her crew were deciding on what to give the raptors for their meals the following week.

“It can’t be chicken,” Fran said, rapping her knuckles on the board for emphasis. “They hate chicken, almost never finish their meals.”

“I don’t get why,” Z complained from his spot near the wall. “They’re carnivores, right? They should love fresh meat!”

“I mean, humans are carnivores…” Sarah cut in, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “But I still like certain kinds of meat better than others.”

“Besides,” Fran said, rolling her eyes, “we all know you just don’t want to have to buy anything you can’t easily get at a supermarket, Z.”

“Hey! As resident gofer, I think I deserve some input what I’m gofer-ing for!”

Fran scoffed, ignoring him. “Regardless, our current options are a whole pig or several large chunks of beef.”

Z piped up again. “I vote the beef!”

“Or,” Fran said, talking over him, “a deer, preferably a live one to sate their predatorial instincts. Plus the cranberries they love as dessert. Though it might—”

Any further discussion was cut off with a sudden hum and blinking of lights. The crew stood, dumbfounded, standing in shock as the lights flickered—flickered again—and then, suddenly, the whole facility was plunged into pure blackness with a final, coughing whirr.

“It’s allllllllll right,” Z said with forced casualness. “We have a backup, so it’ll kick in any second now.” Seconds stretched on. “Any—any second now…”

Sarah, who had been shuffling about in a muted panic, started gulping down breaths as she hyperventilated. “It’s pure blackness! We’re gonna—w-we’re gonna—”

“Stay calm, Sarah.” Fran took control of the situation, as always. “I’ve got this.” Fumbling by touch, she made her way to the wall near the door, where a wall-mounted radio connected to security outside. “Alain. Alain! Come in!”

“Looks like even the radio got cut,” Z mumbled. His bravado was gone, and it seemed panic was setting in for him too.

“Enough,” Fran stressed. “Z, you should be near the emergency station in the wall. Unhook it.” There was the clanking of metal as Z followed her orders, and then Fran and Sarah flinched as he snapped on a heavy-duty flashlight, one of the huge ones that illuminated construction sites at night and took two hands to wield.

The station behind him included everything the lab would need in an emergency: three more flashlights, a pair of dart guns with a manual (though everyone was already trained), and a large medical kit. There was also a single, high-powered rifle, just in case the raptors were escaping and truly going rogue.

Part of her warned that she should grab the rifle immediately, but she talked herself down. “The raptors should be trapped in their room just like us,” she reasoned. “The dart guns should be more than sufficient.” The serum coating the darts had been chemically calibrated to the raptors’s genetics to put them down instantly.

“Z, give Sarah the flashlight,” Fran ordered confidently, striding over to the station. She picked up one of the dart guns, weighing it in her hands. “Then, grab one of these.” There was a clunking sound as the flashlight traded hands, then Z followed his boss’s lead, picking up the other dart gun.

The illumination shook in Sarah’s trembling grasp, and Fran leaned over, giving her coworker a reassuring pat. “We’ll be fine, Sarah,” she said. “We won’t get hurt. It’s just a small power outage.”

“I dunno, boss,” Z said, looking around. “The backup should have kicked in by now, and there’s not even any ambient humming. We might get stuck down here until the power comes back in.”

His words set off a new spike of trembling from Sarah, and Fran shot him her most withering glare. “We need to check on the raptors,” she said. “The temperature regulators in their pen might have been thrown off.”

“But it’s dangerous!” Sarah wailed. “They’ll get us!”

“They’ve been pretty unaggressive towards us,” Z supplied. “They’ve never tried to attack us.”

“Z’s right,” Fran said. (Two words that had never uttered her mouth in conjunction until this very moment.) “Besides, they represent an enormous monetary investment—not to mention the pride both of us should feel as scientists. We should at least check.”

Though she still looked scared, Sarah nodded her assent; with her light leading the way, the three of them made their way to the raptors’s room.

Going first, Fran jiggled the handle and grimaced when she saw it was unlocked. With Z readying his dart gun in case one of the raptors tried anything, Fran opened it cautiously.

Nothing.

She carefully stalked inside, weapon at the ready, followed by Z and then Sarah. “No sign of a struggle,” Sarah mused, almost to herself. Her scientific mind was clinically categorizing everything she could see. “No gashes in the walls or on the doors, no sign of forced entry or exit.” She briefly swept her light towards the smaller cages which the raptors bunked in for the night. “Even the cages look undisturbed, and they would have been in there when the power failed.”

“Hold on.” Fran’s brow was narrowing. “Shine back there again.” Sarah complied, and with the light holding on it, they could see that the cages were empty—all four of them.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Fran muttered. “The raptors got out, but there’s no sign of force. Did they just… open the doors normally once the electronic lock was undone? But they can’t be that clever. And they’re definitely not roaming the facility, so they have to be in this room. Why haven’t they shown themselves? Sneakily escaping, waiting for us to show up… it’s almost like they’re setting up—”

She was cut off by a sudden cry behind her and the sound of something being tackled to the floor. Spinning, Fran was able to see Bluebell pinning Z to the ground, the dart gun lying a few paces away from being knocked from his hands. At first Fran feared he’d been hurt—but then he wriggled, grunting, and she realized Bluebell had just winded him, not attacking him seriously.

The female raptor glanced up and Fran almost imagined she wore a devious smile.

“—like they’re setting up an ambush,” Fran finished, horror rising in her.

A rush from the side met her ears. She spun and fired a dart, but the spin threw off her aim—it flew aimlessly over Sunny’s shoulder. The yellow raptor tackled both her and Sarah to the ground, the dart gun flying free and the massive, heavy-duty flashlight knocked from Sarah’s hands to illuminate the whole room.

The two women struggled, but it was fruitless. Sunny was powerful enough to keep them both down. From shadows in the corner of the room, Fran saw Flame unfurl himself, sauntering up to her with what could only be described as a grin. The alpha raptor grabbed Fran’s hands—and even in her panic she had to observe with scholarly fascination that he was strong enough to control her but dexterous enough not to hurt her. Sunny shifted his weight to allow Flame to drag Fran away even as Sunny himself kept Sarah pinned.

Fran gained enough self-control to thrash and shriek, but it was useless against Flame; he was far too strong. He dragged her to the shut door of his cage and threw Fran against the bars, stunning her. While she was winded, she heard a crunching sound, and realized with shock that Flame had twisted an errant piece of metal (one he must have snuck away and covertly hidden for this very purpose) around her hands, clasping her to the shut cage door in a half-sitting, half-standing position and leaving her unable to move.

Fran’s mouth dried as she realized that the raptors had been planning this for a while, waiting for a moment like the blackout to seize their chance.

Pinky had emerged, the last of the raptors to show themselves, and was nosing at Z, who was still pinned by Bluebell. Z was struggling uselessly, and Pinky seemed entertained by his labors. A few paces away, Sarah had a complete deer-in-the-headlights kind of look, not even resisting. She was staring at Sunny, whimpering all the while.

Fran blinked. Wait. The reason Sarah was whimpering wasn’t just because of Sunny. It was hard to see from her angle, but the yellow raptor was sporting an erection; he was eying Sarah with undisguised interest.