Hide in the bushes

You haven't done anything wrong, but the last thing you need is a misunderstanding with the cops. Jumping the shallow ditch beside the road, you try to avoid getting any more scratches, but fail miserably as you shove your way through a tangle of thorny vines and crouch down in a mossy thicket, surrounded by a grove of spindly aspen trees.

The police cruisers race past, leaving a cloud of dust and car exhaust in their wake. You wait, listening to the sirens fade, then cut off abruptly. You can still see the lights through the trees, and can almost make out a few words as the cops talk to each other in loud, animated voices. You would swear you hear someone say 'dinosaur' and 'vanish', but that doesn't make any sense. You need to get a little closer.

You start to rise, but something cold and hard presses against your back.

"Don't move," whispers a voice. "And don't make a sound. I don't want to have to shoot you."

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry.