Lost World Of Patagonia

by Dane Hatchell

  The caravan kept to its previous schedule, rolling along as fast as the terrain would allow, and taking rest stops every couple of hours. Alex was unsure of how much actual distance they traveled. The path shifted from open plains, to rocky hills, to sparsely populated forests. The pristine beauty of the hidden land held Alex in awe.

  Dinosaurs of the less threatening variety roamed freely and none seemed to be curious enough to approach the mechanized vehicles traveling across their land. The expedition spooked a herd of Gallimimus when the vehicles happened upon it. The dinosaurs were ostrich-like, with small heads, toothless beaks, large eyes, long necks, short arms, long legs, and long tails. Alex chuckled when he read that Gallimimus meant ‘chicken mimic,’ which was a great description of how the dinosaur ran. The Gallimimuses didn’t have feathers and were rather plain in their tan colored skin. Caveman had wondered aloud how tasty a fried leg might be.

  There was a noticeable absence of large carnivores, which didn’t upset anyone. But there seemed to be a good supply of food across the land traveled thus far, so that he thought they’d have come across a giant theropod by now.

  Coop had said water was plentiful on the land. Lear’s River, though, was by far the biggest waterway. Perhaps most of the larger dinosaur life resided in that area. The drone didn’t have a chance to do much exploring before meeting its untimely demise. There was so much to learn, and now one their greatest tools had been taken from them.

  Alex and others took turns looking out the overhead hatch. The wind felt warm against his cheeks and ruffled his hair. There were times the Warthog neared 60 mph. The sulphur odor in the air diminished the farther south they traveled. Occasionally, he’d get a whiff of something organic rotting. It reminded him of being at the zoo.

  Ben had pestered Ron to the point that the big man let him take the Warthog’s wheel. From what Alex could tell, it drove like any standard vehicle. Gas pedal, brake, steering wheel, all set on the right hand side. No doubt as to its European origin.

  Ron didn’t seem to mind giving up his seat. In fact, he enjoyed Ben’s interest, giving him pointers on how soon to start turning, and when to speed up and slow down when avoiding obstacles. Of all the college group, Ben was the most accepted by the Redwater gang. Alex didn’t know what was behind Ben’s involvement with the mercenary group. Was he trying to prove something to them? Was he trying to prove something to himself? Perhaps he admired the former soldiers of war.

  Maybe in his mind Ben thought of them as real men. Men that risked life, limb—everything. Soldiers were far superior to athletes. Investing their blood, sweat, and tears to preserve freedom. Freedom for the athletes to sculpt their bodies, ingest expensive dietary supplements, and earn huge amounts of money for performing on a stage. Alex didn’t know if that was the case for Ben, but for him, he knew it to be so.

  “Whoa . . . we got a visitor up ahead,” Ben called out from the cab.

  About that time, Matt, who had been looking out the hatch, patted the inside of the roof with his hand. He spoke, but Alex couldn’t make out the words.

  Alex had been hanging around the cab entrance, watching through a small portion of the windshield. His mind had wandered off but immediately snapped-to when Ben gave his warning.

  The Mule and Warthog slowed to a stop. Everyone stood and waited for a report.

  “There’s a T-rex about twenty yards away,” Ben said.

  “What’s he doing?” Chief asked.

  “Looks like he’s having lunch,” Ben said.

  Coop pushed his way up to Alex, who quickly stepped out of the man’s way. “Excuse me.” Coop waited for Ron to move and then sat in the co-pilot seat. “I’ll fire up one of the cameras and stream the video too if you want to watch on your phones.”

  Coop’s laptop screen woke from its sleep. The camera panned until it stopped on the T-rex. The image zoomed in on the thunder lizard.

  “Wow, that thing is huge,” Natasha said from somewhere inside the crowd.

  Chief walked over by Matt and tapped him on the leg. “Hey, you need to come on down. I need to man the gun in case there’s any trouble.”

  “You aren’t going to shoot it, are you?” Susan asked.

  “Not if I don’t have to,” Chief said, and moved out of Matt’s way as he stepped down the ladder. He immediately climbed up onto the Warthog’s roof.

  The T-rex hadn’t taken notice of the expedition, and seemed content eating the Gallimimus unfortunate enough to cross his path.

  “Looking at the grid, this guy is nearly thirty feet long,” Coop said, and then zoomed in closer.

  “Look at its skin. What’s wrong with it?” Ben asked.

  This T-rex was from a gray variety and had short stripe markings down its spine. It, too, had feathers of some sort at the end of its tail. But what had caught Ben’s eye was the poor condition of the mighty beast.

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s been in a few fights in its lifetime,” Alex said.

  “Yeah, looks like it lost a couple,” Ben said.

  “Wait, is something wrong with its ears? Can you get a closer shot of the head?” Matt asked.

  Coop zoomed in on the side of the head as the dinosaur lowered for another mouthful.

  “Its ears. They look deformed—grown over,” Matt said.

  “Yeah. The other T-rex’s ears we saw didn’t look like that,” Natasha said.

  “Because of the size and its overall condition, I’d say that this is one old dinosaur. Maybe that’s why it’s here—apart from other large dinosaurs. Maybe it’s too old to defend itself from younger, healthier ones. In fact, I don’t know if due to age or his ear deformity, if it can hear. It hasn’t sensed us yet. You saw how all the other dinosaurs reacted when our vehicles drove by,” Alex said.

  “Yeah, but this is a T-rex. He ain’t afraid of nothing,” Caveman said.

  “He may not be afraid, but he’s given no evidence that he knows we’re here. I say we just ease on down the road and see what happens,” Coop said. He pushed the radio mic on the dash. “Chief, you ready in case it gets too close?”

  “Roger. I’ve got a few rounds of non-lethal explosives ready to go if I need them. I will follow up with the heavy stuff if necessary,” Chief said.

  “I trust your judgement,” Coop said.

  “Heading out,” Don called from the Mule’s radio.

  “Roger,” Coop said.

  The Mule traveled a good twenty yards before Coop gave Ben the okay to follow. The T-rex never once looked in their direction and steadily pulled meat from bone with its sharp teeth and massive jaws.

  “Well, that was a whole lot of nothing,” Caveman said.

  “Yeah, well, when you get too old to hear you’ll be just like him,” Suge said. “Your head in a bowl, gumming you grits in the old folks home.”

  “Not me, partner. I ain’t ever gonna let myself get in that condition. I’ve found a cure for old age,” Caveman said.

  “Ha. Bullshit,” Suge said. “You’re probably going to get so fat you won’t be able to wipe your ass. How are you going to cure that?”

  “Easy, it’s called three fifty-seven magnum,” Caveman said.

  Suge started to speak, then stopped himself, and shrugged his shoulders. “Can’t argue with that.”

  The two vehicles hit high gear not long after passing the ageing dinosaur, heading southwest.

  The T-rex sniffed around the Gallimimus’ carcass and didn’t find anything left it cared to eat. It slowly raised its body as upright as it could. Its tired eyes looked about as if searching for more food. Its gaze finally fixed upon an area of land where brush had been flattened. The dinosaur put its nose in the air, and underneath blood stained teeth, snaked its gray and pitted tongue about. With uncertainty, it turned its massive body and raised a clawed foot toward the disturbance, each step cautious until arriving at the strange footprints marking its land, the territory it alone ruled.

  The dinosaur let out a cry into the humid jungle air. It pu
t its head down, and with determined steps, followed the beast daring to invade its land.

  *

  By the time the Warthog entered an area too overgrown with trees to continue, the sun had shared its last bit of light. It was time again to set up camp.

  “All right, folks. This is going to be home base for the remainder of the trip,” Coop said as he left the cab and entered the front cabin.

  “So soon? For some reason I was under the impression we had another day’s travel,” Alex said, raising his arms back in a stretch.

  “After seeing the potential dangers at Lear’s River, I picked an alternate site. The original plan was to bring you farther south and on a less direct route—to accommodate for the Warthog’s size. Lear’s River winds its way too close to where you would have set camp. The river seems to be a haven for dinosaurs. I wouldn’t want to put you too close to that,” Coop said.

  “No, I guess not,” Alex said.

  “Anyway, I’m closer to my destination. And the Mule won’t have any problems navigating the terrain,” Coop said. “There is a creek about a half mile to the west. You have to get your water from there. Just follow Chief’s orders, and don’t stray too far from the Warthog. I trust my men will keep you safe.”

  “Okay, same routine as before. Don will set up the perimeter lights. Let’s get the canopy pulled out and the sides up, and get the latrines going before chow time,” Chief said. He stepped over to the front cabin’s door and slowly opened it. “Don’t forget the insect repellant.”

  *

  Something Alex ate had kept him up a good portion of the night. He wasn’t sure if it was the Thai Chicken MRE or the cheese spread with Jalapenos packaged with it. Everything tasted fine while he ate it, but not long after, he started burping, followed by expelling odorous flatulence. If this was a men’s only trip, he’d make Caveman pay for gassing them the other day.

  As it was, he’d spent as much time in the latrine as he did his sleeping bag up until 4 a.m. Thankfully, he fell fast asleep afterward.

  When Alex awoke he was the only one still inside the front cabin. The other sleeping bags were rolled up and stored by the wall. He slowly rose on one arm and wiped the crust from his eyes. A foul taste remained in his dry mouth, and his rear was irritated from wiping with paper towels. What had happened to the toilet paper they had used earlier? First World Problems, for sure.

  Alex craned his neck to the side and saw the canopy area was also vacant. What time was it? After a deep breath, he rolled out of bed and put the sleeping bag away. It was time to dress and face the wonders of a new day, hopefully not from inside a latrine.

  When he stepped out from canopy’s doorway, Bats and Suge had supplies in their arms, walking from the rear cabin, and heading toward the Mule.

  “Feeling better, Professor?” Suge asked.

  “Uh, yeah. I think so. Are you guys getting ready to leave?” Alex asked.

  “Heading out in fifteen,” Suge said as he and Bats walked past.

  It was 8:30 a.m. The sun had been up for only an hour. Alex gazed about and found evidence that breakfast had come and gone. No matter. He wasn’t in the mood for anything other than a cold bottle of water.

  Coop and Don came from the rear cabin, their rifles over their shoulders.

  “Morning, Professor. Rough night?” Coop said.

  “Yeah. Those paper towels made it even rougher,” Alex said.

  Coop chuckled. “Sorry, we only had a few rolls of two-ply.”

  “I’ll heal. Say, where is everyone else?”

  “Oh, they’re on the other side of the rear cabin. Caveman’s made some friends,” Coop said. “Go check it out.” Coop and Don moved on.

  Alex stepped over to the rear cabin’s open door and saw the remainder of the crew piled up behind Caveman, about twenty yards away. He took out a bottle of water from the cooler, twisted off the cap, and chugged a mouthful.

  Caveman stooped and had his arm extended. From some light brush nearby, a tiny theropod, brownish in color, cautiously stepped into view.

  Alex took another drink and headed toward the crew. The mercenary had made a friend, all right. And he was feeding it like it was a squirrel in a public park.

  “That’s right, little one. Take the cracker,” Caveman said as if he spoke to a toddler.

  “Why is this man feeding that dinosaur?” Alex said as he reached the group.

  Matt turned, and said, “He’s been out here since sunup. I told him he shouldn’t be feeding the wildlife, but he didn’t listen to me.”

  “I wonder if we can teach that thing tricks,” Ron said.

  “I doubt it. But if it decides it likes the taste of human flesh, we might have a problem on our hands,” Alex said, hoping to spread a little fear.

  Natasha was off to the side. She had her camera and steadily took pictures.

  “What is it?” Ron asked.

  “It’s a Compsognathus,” Alex said.

  “How big do they get?”

  “About the size of a chicken or a turkey, it depends on the species. That one’s only about twelve inches tall. It should grow some more. Unless it chokes on the cracker.”

  The Compsognathus stopped less than a foot away from Caveman’s hand, stretched out its neck, and bit down on the cracker. It leaned back and brought its small three digit hands up to the treat. After tasting a piece, it let the cracker fall to the ground, and turned and scurried back into the brush.

  Caveman straightened up, turned, and frowned.

  “A Compsognathus is a meat eater. You’re lucky it didn’t go for your finger,” Alex said.

  “Ah, that little thing couldn’t do me no harm. Heck, when I was a kid, we used to catch them green lizards and let them bite our earlobes—let ’em hang like earrings,” Caveman said.

  “Yes, but you might find these lizards have real teeth capable of tearing flesh. Not only that, you need to worry about the bacteria in their mouths. The bacteria could be so deadly that it might act like a poison and kill you,” Alex said, inching up the fear factor.

  “You might want to listen to what the professor says, John,” Coop said. He and his three companions walked up. “The man is an expert in zoology. You might learn a thing or two from him. His advice might even save your life one day.”

  Caveman adjusted his cap and lowered his head, keeping his thoughts to himself.

  “You guys about to head out?” Chief asked, and he approached Coop.

  “Yep. The Mule’s loaded with everything we need. Shouldn’t be gone much longer than a week. We’ll keep you updated at the designated check-in times,” Coop said. He turned his attention to Alex. “Everything good?”

  “I believe so. We’ll take things slow and avoid making stupid mistakes. Chief will be calling the shots. We’re in good hands,” Alex said.

  “Good to hear,” Coop said.

  “Roll tide,” Don said to Ron.

  “Roll tide,” Ron replied.

  Suge gave a quick salute and turned. Bats gave a brief nod goodbye before following. The four men headed for the Mule.

  Chief faced his audience. “Listen up, everyone. I’ve looked at the basic map and decided, for now, to limit our excursions to no more than a half mile from the Warthog. We’ll keep to that for the next few days or until we decided it’s safe and worth the risk to venture farther. Today we’ll play it conservative. We’ve used a good amount of water so far on the trip, and Coop and his bunch took their share. There’s a creek within that half-mile distance to the west. One group will leave now and bring water back to the purifier. After lunch, the other group will go.

  “You can use this time to combine work and pleasure. Bring your cameras and take your time learning the lay of the land. The creek is only a fifteen-minute walk away, so take a couple of hours. Just be back before lunch.

  “Meat,” Chief singled the big man out, “you and Caveman are in charge of the first group. There’re four water backpacks in the rear cabin capable of holding fifteen gal
lons of water each. That’s over a hundred pounds, people. So don’t put more water in than you are able to carry.

  “Ron and I will go out with the next group. So, who’s going first?” Chief asked.

  “I’d be better off going with the next group,” Alex said. “Matt, you’re in charge of this one.”

  “Okay.” Matt thought a moment. “I’ll take Logan and Natasha with me.”

  Well, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Logan and Matt had become pretty good buddies in the last few months. And there was no way Matt wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to spend more time with Natasha.

  Alex gave Matt a thumb-up approval, and the first group headed to the rear cabin to get their gear for the hike.

  “What are we going to do?” Susan asked Alex.

  “Well, I guess we can grab some binoculars and get on top of the Warthog, take a look around. We ought to spend some time cataloguing some of the plants, too.”

  Ben stepped up. “I’ll get our guns and make sure they’re ready to go.” He turned to Ron. “Hey, you going to give me one of those rifles?”

  Ron turned to Chief, who rolled his eyes. Ron said, “Tell you what, I’ll let you wrestle Caveman for his.”

  Ben deflated. “The day he loses two arms and a leg, I’ll think about it.”

  *

  Natasha donned a water backpack, and clipped her gun and canteen on her belt. Her satellite phone was fully charged, and her digital SLR camera hung around her neck.

  Logan pushed his arms through the water backpack’s straps and cinched it up. He watched Meat approach Natasha.

  The mercenary had a backpack of his own and carried his rifle. Something in the way he looked at Natasha told Logan the man had something on his mind.

  “Uh, hey, Natasha,” Meat said. He held his JNY-7 in his right hand and had his left arm pulled against his chest.

  “Hey, Clint,” Natasha said. “Ready to go?”

  “Sure,” he said, hovering over, wearing a wide, shy smile. “I wanted to show you something.”

  She narrowed her eyes and turned her head slightly to the side. “Is it alive?”