"Jesus, Doug, that's not a handgun!"
"I never said handgun."
"Who do you think you are? Indiana Jones?"
He winked. "Exactly. Glad you noticed." He gave the rifle a casual swing. "Standard .22. Perfect for scaring off threats."
"Are you seriously going to scare the snake out of the pit?" I clenched my fists. My jaw. My everything.
He peered into the pit. "No. I'm gonna kill it." He lifted the rifle. "Shit! There it is."
"Doug! Wait!" I lunged toward him, shoving his arm just as the gun boomed.
The thundering shot echoed, and a puff of red dust exploded near the ancient ribcage, missing the snake.
He fired again, and the second shot punched straight through the lower wall on the far side of the pit closest to the ravine. A small section of dirt collapsed, spilling into the base of the pit.
"What the hell are you doing? You're going to bring the whole damn side down!" I shouted.
He fired three more times. Two tore through the wall again, and the other shattered a massive hip bone.
"Doug! You bloody maniac." I punched his bicep. "You're destroying the fossils!"
"Relax, sweetheart. I got it." Doug lowered the rifle and grinned. "Check it out. That snake's stalking days are over." He peered into the pit, admiring his kill shot.
My stomach churned. As much as that snake terrified me, I hadn't wanted it dead. And I sure as shit didn't need Doug thinking he was a hero. I glared at him. "You just destroyed a prehistoric pelvic girdle, you idiot. Now I can't analyze how that dinosaur walked. Do you have any idea what you've done?"
"I got the snake, though." He smirked.
I released a breath through gritted teeth and stormed around to the far side of the pit, needing space.
Thanks to Doug's idiotic gunfire, the fragile wall between my fossil pit and the sheer drop into the ravine now had three bullet holes in it.
Just get back to work, Charlie. Don't look at the dead snake.
Returning to the ladder, I climbed down, keeping my gaze on the rungs, refusing to look toward the snake's bloody body. But I couldn't block out that faint metallic tang mixing with the musty scent of dirt and fossils.
At the bottom, I skirted the blood-splattered section and focused on the larger skull with the jagged teeth that I'd been admiring earlier. I needed to calm my heart, refocus, and breathe. This discovery was mine.
Behind me, the ladder creaked. I turned as Doug appeared at the rim, rifle slung casually over one shoulder like a damn action hero reject. He climbed onto the ladder and descended a few rungs, stopping just above the embedded skull. I watched his face for any trace of awe.
Doug whistled. "I reckon this is a baby Australovenator."
"That was my working theory." It was a guess. But it was going to be mine to confirm, not his.
"This alone is going to make my funding partners very happy." He didn't even try to hide the gloating in his voice.
I clenched my jaw. Of course, he'd make this about money and his precious network of buddies. Doug had published landmark papers, led dozens of international digs, and built a reputation as one of the most respected dinosaur experts in Australia. He had tenure, institutional backing, and decades of connections to fall back on. He didn’t need to do any digging work.
So while he kicked back in air-conditioned comfort in the bus, I was the crazy woman in the blazing heat, swatting away flies and doing the actual digging.
Doug descended the rest of the way and stepped onto the pit floor, his boots crunching over fossils. He turned in a slow circle, taking in the wall-to-wall scatter of bones. "Holy hell," he muttered. "Do you know what this is?"
"A pitfall trap." I crossed my arms. "Similar to Naracoorte, but mine is more complete."
He nodded as if he'd been the one to figure it out. "Correct. Well done. Only our pit is far more accessible than Naracoorte, making excavation easier and less costly."
Doug crouched beside a massive skull, and his khakis pulled tight at his knees.