Lost World Of Patagonia

by Dane Hatchell

  When Alex looked over at Natasha, she had turned his way and was buttoning her shirt. Her big brown eyes gazed right through him. Sleep still held the soft features of her face in its hold. Recognition didn’t show in her eyes. He might as well have been a piece of furniture. The loneliness of the dream draped over him once more.

  Susan had a brush in her hand, working out the kinks from her hair. It was as if no one else was in the tent but her.

  The trip so far hadn’t gone like he had imagined. What a fool he had been for thinking he and Natasha would be like two young lovers, hiding from the watchful eyes of the overseers. Stealing kisses, sharing furtive glances and touches. Where had his head been all that time? Up his ass?

  Enough time wasted, he pulled himself out the sleeping bag, went to his bag next to Susan’s, and started to dress.

  Ben snored, rattling like Darth Vader with a stuffed nose.

  “Hey, Ben. Ben. Wake up,” Alex said, looping a belt through his jeans.

  The athletic guy swallowed in mid-snore and opened his eyes.

  “Time to get up, Ben. What gives? You’re usually the first in line,” Alex said.

  “Yeah, but I’m always the last out of bed. It’s a tradeoff I’ve learned to live with.”

  “We’re going to the bathroom. We’ll meet in the mess tent,” Logan said. He put his hand on Natasha’s shoulder and let her lead the way out the tent.

  “That said, now that I’m awake, everyone needs to get out of my way.” Ben pulled the sleeping bag top aside. While remaining flat on his back, he put his hands on the floor above his shoulders, and with a mighty display of physical prowess, lifted is legs, and sprang from the floor to land squarely on his feet.

  Alex watched awestruck, feeling his manhood diminish. Youth was the most valuable possession a human would ever own.

  Ben scurried to his bag and began dressing.

  Natasha only glanced up from the floor as she reached the doorway. Not a smile, not a frown, just total indifference thrown Alex’s way. At this point, he thought a heartfelt fuck you from her lips would make him feel better. Invoking any emotion would at least make it seem like she had some emotional investment in him.

  “I’m going to the bathroom, too. Meet you at the mess tent,” Susan said after placing the brush back in her bag. She was out the tent without once looking back.

  After tying his shoes, Ben exited right on Susan’s heels.

  Alex was alone. Darkness edged the dim lighting of the small temporary enclosure, boxing him in. His life was boxed in, too. There was only one way out of the tent. Now, it became exceedingly obvious there was only one way for him to escape the bitter cage surrounding his life.

  *

  “I’ll take that, little missy,” Ron said as he took Natasha’s gear from her and loaded it into the Warthog’s rear cabin. She was first in line of the college crew. The others waited patiently behind her, with Alex bringing up the rear.

  The smaller vehicle, the Mule, was no longer attached to the rear cabin, and was several yards away. Don hurriedly prepped it for departure.

  The orange glow of the rising morning sun reflected off the snowcapped mountains picketing the western horizon. The mighty giants had served as sentries for millions of years. By fate or fortune, Mother Nature had decided to open the door for man to get a glimpse of what she created before the devastating asteroid bombardment some 65 million years ago. Times final gift was about to be shared.

  Alex often wondered what path evolution might have taken had the dinosaurs not been destroyed. Bipedal dinosaurs were common, and if the creatures had flourished, might they have advanced into the sentient beings man had become? Of course, to progress as such, the tail would have to go. Arm length would have to grow too.

  A funny thought crossed Alex’s mind: reptilian men with short arms playing football and basketball. Life would be so much different if the evolutionary tree had branched differently. As it was, mammals evolved from reptiles, and then from small furry creatures into the mostly hairless, 46 chromosome species of ape.

  “Morning, Ron. The special diet MREs—the ones we brought with us on the Chinook. Did you get those packed onboard?” Alex asked.

  “Sure thing, Professor,” Ron said.

  “Susan has a peanut allergy, and we can’t take any chances. They’re in a white bag so you can’t mistake them for other MREs,” Alex said. He handed his bag to Ron and followed the others by the Warthog.

  Natasha stepped carefully up the short ladder leading past the large tracks that would bring them to the destination. Matt held his hands at the ready as if to catch her if she fell. The big man, called Meat, was by the open door to the front cabin, a hand extended ready to assist. Chief waited by the foot of the ladder, his hands crossed behind his back.

  Everyone carried jackets as the trip past the mountains would be a cold one, but the weather was too warm now to wear. One by one, his crew boarded the Warthog.

  Chief hid behind his sunglasses, his stoic expression softened when Susan arrived at the ladder. “Good morning, Mrs. Klasse.”

  “Good morning, Chief,” Susan said. She put her foot on the first step, and then turned her attention back to him. “Please, call me Susan.”

  Chief’s head shifted to the side in a polite nod. He then turned his gaze to Alex. “Ready for the big adventure?”

  Alex was a little surprised by Chiefs friendly tone. The man carried himself as all business and no pleasure. The only other time he seemed to warm up is when he spoke to Susan—which Alex noticed, but really didn’t give a damn about. Hell, if Chief wanted her, he could have her! “I’d be lying if I didn’t say I felt like a kid on Christmas morning. The wait has been excruciating. The day is finally here. Once we cross those mountains, there’s a big old present just begging to be unwrapped.”

  Chief removed his sunglasses; it was too early in the morning for them to do him any good anyway. His eyes widened, and his face brightened. “You know, I’ve been on nearly a hundred missions in my career, but I’ve never felt like I do now. This one’s different. I don’t feel like a paid assassin. I feel like an explorer. Don’t misunderstand me, I’m a professional soldier, and I’m proud of my work. This mission allows me to be something more than a harbinger of death and destruction. I can be part of a historical moment. You know, when I was a kid, I was fascinated by dinosaurs. I had coloring books, watched movies, and had picture books. My favorite toys were those little plastic figures. I had dinosaurs and Army men. I’d make death scenes with the dinosaurs always winning. Sometimes, when my older sister was in school, I’d set up T-rex and some other raptors eating one of her Barbie dolls. That used to piss her off big time.”

  Alex chuckled. It was common for young boys to have a fascination with dinosaurs. And that boyish fascination shone through the rugged façade of the harden mercenary now. “Chief, let’s go make history.”

  “You got it, buddy.” Chief patted Alex on the shoulder.

  Alex ascended the short steps into the front cabin. Bench seats lined each side. His crew sat together on one side. Meat, Caveman, Suge, and Bats sat opposite on the other. Ron was in the cab at the wheel. Coop rode shotgun, his fingers tapping a keyboard on a laptop affixed to the dash.

  His crew sat in the same order as they entered, with Natasha at one end and Susan on the other, closest to him. There was plenty of room on both sides, so he wouldn’t be forced to sit with the Redwater bunch. In fact, at least another six people could fit without it being cramped.

  Coop looked over at Alex, nodding as he steadily typed. He then pulled his hands away from the keyboard, hit one last key, rose from his seat, and entered the cabin. “Everyone enjoy breakfast?”

  “I know I did,” Alex said, amongst affirmations from his crew. “The maple sausage patty was delicious. The oatmeal and dried fruit too.”

  “I didn’t realize your wife had a nut allergy until Ron mentioned it this morning. I hope that’s not going to complicate matters any,” Coop sai
d.

  “She’ll be fine. We brought enough food to last six weeks. We also have antihistamines and some Epi-Pens. Susan knows what to be cautious of when it comes to food,” Alex said. “One thing’s for sure, you guys eat better than I do when I go on my trips in the States. Which usually is peanut butter, potted meat or Vienna Sausages, or some combination of the three.”

  “The food’s not too bad. You’ll get tired of it soon enough, though. We’ve stocked a variety of MREs and freeze-dried products. MREs in general don’t have a lot of fiber and do have a lot of salt. Which means you need to drink plenty of water, or you’ll get constipated. Eat at least one of the fiber bars a day.”

  “What about toilet paper? Do we have to go third world country and use our left hand to wipe?” Ben asked.

  Coop laughed. “You can if you want. There is a limited amount of paper towels for us to use as we need. Once we cross the mountains, there’ll be other natural resources at our disposal. I suggest you wipe carefully.”

  “I’ve never wiped my ass with a dinosaur foot before. This is gonna be fun,” Caveman joked.

  Natasha timidly raised a hand. “So, uh, how often are we going to stop, you know…to go to the bathroom?”

  Bats had a pocketknife out and shaved callouses from around his fingers. His gaze focused on his work. “Just like a woman. Gotta stop at every truck stop on the way to take a piss.”

  Alex winced and almost said something to the man, but thought it not to be the appropriate time for a lesson in gender sensitivity.

  Natasha looked stunned at first and blushed. But then her bottom lip tightened, and she narrowed her eyes, not looking the least bit pleased.

  “The terlit is right over there.” Caveman pointed toward the rear.

  Natasha leaned forward and looked where he directed. “There’s no toilet there. There’s not even a door.”

  “See that five gallon bucket?” Caveman asked.

  “Yeah, so?” Natasha said.

  “So when you gotta go, you can piss in there.”

  “You’re not serious…” Natasha stiffened, apparently realizing he was serious.

  “Okay, look,” Coop spread his hands, “we’re about to leave. I’m figuring an eight-hour drive—twelve at the most. The terrain will be tricky, and we need to be careful. There’s no Triple A out here to give us a tow. We will stop every couple of hours, mainly for vehicle inspection. More if we need to. Everyone should try to regulate your body functions to coincide. That said, if anyone can’t wait, the bucket is open.” Coop returned to his seat wearing a wide grin across his lips.

  Alex wasn’t sure if Coop smiled because of the shock value of his comment or if the man was as eager to begin the journey as he was.

  Chapter 9

  The Warthog slowly rose up an incline and then suddenly dipped, jarring Natasha’s head. The three-hour ride hadn’t been as bad as she feared. The seats weren’t any more comfortable than on the Chinook, and it was only times like these when she wished she had a fatter ass. For this trip, a Kardashian bottom would suit her nicely.

  Don drove the Mule several yards in front of the Warthog, testing the path first. The fissure served as a natural road and varied in depth and width. There was a time or two when he had to use the blade on the front end to widen the path, but width was usually not a problem. What scared Natasha the most was when the Warthog tipped to one side or the other. Once, the incline was so great, the vehicle slid sideways. She feared it would turn over. Fortunately, the tracks found purchase on the earth and continued on the path.

  She was starting to feel more comfortable around the Redwater crew, although none of them bothered to engage her group in conversation. Suge and Caveman played games on their phones, Bats slowly sharpened his knife, Meat doodled away in his notebook, and Chief sat silently, his arms crossed. With the dark glasses on she couldn’t tell if he were awake or not.

  Alex was reading something on his ePad, Susan had her book, and Logan typed away on his phone, writing in his journal, she guessed. Ben had his crossword puzzles, and Matt…Matt was looking her way. His happy expression seemed contrived.

  Bored, it just seemed silly to waste time playing on her phone. Who were these men? They were going to be together for the next several weeks, now was as good a time as any to get to know them better.

  “Excuse me.” Natasha leaned forward, Suge sat directly across from her. “Your name is Henry, right?”

  Suge darted his gaze at her, and returned to his phone, thumbs a-blazing on the keypad. “That’s me,” he said, his tone pleasant.

  “Would you prefer I call you Henry, or is it okay to call you Suge? Chief said we had to ask if we can call you Suge.”

  “Sure, you can call me Suge.” He looked up from the phone and shoved it in his front pocket.

  “How about me? Can I call you Suge?” Ben asked.

  By this time everyone, except Bats, had turned away from what they were doing, their attention now on the conversation at hand.

  “Suge’s fine. In fact, everyone can call me Suge.”

  Mutters of thanks and head nods came from the college crew.

  “And thank you for asking,” Suge said, sounding genuinely pleased.

  Logan fidgeted in his seat, and then sighed loudly.

  Okay, this is working, Natasha thought. Before she had a chance to continue, Ben interrupted.

  “Hey, uh, Bats,” Ben said.

  The man dragged his knife blade across a ceramic rod and stopped. His eyes looked up from under his cap. “Yeah, what can I do you for?”

  “I’ve been wondering something since Chief introduced you. Oh, I love your Texas accent, by the way. I’ve always wanted to visit Texas. I see all kind of barbecue joints on TV I’d like to hit up. Anyway, I was wondering—about your nickname. Bats, you a big Batman fan?”

  The question hung in the air for what became several uncomfortable moments. The blade continued to pass across the ceramic rod again. “No. I’m not a fan of some fuck-tard who wears a mask and parades around in tights.”

  “Oh, yeah. I get it. Well, why do they call you Bats, then?” Ben asked.

  “Simple, they call me Bats because of my medical condition.”

  “Medical condition? You have trouble seeing?”

  “No, I’ve been diagnosed as bat-shit crazy.”

  “It’s true. I’m the doctor that gave him that name,” Caveman said. “Don’t worry though. He gets along just fine as long as he gets his medicine.”

  “Glad to hear that,” Ben said, and settled into his seat. He turned his head and watched Bats from the corner of his eye.

  “Yep, as long as Bats here gets to kill something every three or four days, he’s as happy as a dung beetle in a cow field,” Caveman said.

  Logan squirmed in his seat some more and arched his back.

  Matt asked, “Hey, Logan, you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be all right. I just have to hold it for another hour,” Logan said.

  “You gotta pee? Use the bucket,” Caveman said.

  “Uh, no, thank you. I’ll hold it.”

  “What’s the matter? Your peter too small to reach the bucket?” Caveman asked.

  “No, I—”

  “Aw, come on. Everyone pees and poos. Ain’t none of us here ain’t never seen a dick before. Grow a set and whip it out. There’s more room out than in,” Caveman said.

  Challenging Logan’s manhood didn’t set well with him. He looked like he was about to explode, but then checked himself, closed his eyes, apparently in hopes of composing himself. “I would rather just wait and maintain some dignity and—”

  “Dignity?” Bats said, freezing the blade near the middle of the ceramic rod. “What’s the matter, boy? You think you’re better than us?”

  “I didn’t say that. If I’d rather wait to use the bathroom, that’s my business. I can take care of myself.” Logan leaned forward, his gaze firmly directed on Bats.

  “You know, I thought there was something
different about you.” Bats brought a thumb over to the blade and brushed it against the sharp edge. “You squat when you pee, boy?”

  Logan stiffened his back, balling both fists. “What if I did? It’s none of your fucking business.”

  Alex rose from his seat as if he were about to intervene. The Warthog violently shook, sending him to his knees.

  “What’s happening?” Susan shrieked.

  At first Natasha thought the Warthog was in the process of rolling over but realized that it only rocked back and forth—spilling everyone off the benches.

  “Earthquake! Hang on,” Coop cried from the cab.

  Objects clanged against the side of the Warthog, which had now come to a stop. Curses and various cries of surprise exploded from the riders.

  Natasha had never been in an earthquake before and didn’t know what to expect. Her mind ran wild with an image of the ground cracking open, like in the movie The Day After Tomorrow, with the vehicles falling down a deep abyss and swallowed by the Earth’s core.

  Something large hit the roof. Now she feared half the mountain would fall on top and bury them in a ton of rubble. They would either suffocate or starve to death. The Warthog would serve as one large coffin for the 13 would-be explorers.

  The rumbling slowly subsided, and the earth stopped shifting. Natasha was on her side, and her arms covered her head. She lifted her gaze, and saw members of the team slowly pull themselves from the floor, exploring body parts with fingers, searching for possible injury.

  Logan and Bats rose to their feet, their noses inches away, gazes locked. Bats still had the knife in his hand. Neither flinched.

  “Anybody hurt?” Coop leaned out the cab, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “Bats, everyone, take your seats and wait for orders,” Chief commanded.

  The Texan turned toward his leader and sat on the bench. He closed his knife and put the sharpener in his pocket.

  Alex helped Susan up. “Guys, everyone okay?” He turned his gaze to Natasha.

  “I’m okay . . . I think.” Pain in her left elbow indicated one point of impact. She rubbed her fingers on it and felt peeled skin and a slight wetness from blood. “Just skinned up a bit,” she said, and rose.