Lost World Of Patagonia

by Dane Hatchell

  The three looked around. The river had carved out a 10 to 20 yard swath in the Earth. It didn’t look like they could climb either side without the proper equipment. From their vantage point there were only two directions to go. South would lead past the waterfall and put them in the direction of the Warthog, but they would have to cross the river to do that. North would lead them, well, who knows? They needed to find a way back up.

  “Our phones. We need to call Ben, and . . . Matt! Matt may still be alive,” Natasha said.

  “Yeah. He had made it into that tree. The Troodons shouldn’t have been able to reach him. I . . . Natasha . . .” Logan said.

  “Yes,” she knew where her friend was going.

  “Alex. I’m sorry about Alex.”

  She tried to hold back the tears, but one escaped. She wiped her cheek with her finger, and shook her head. “Me, too.”

  Logan wrapped his arms around her, and Meat placed his large hand on her shoulder.

  Natasha pushed away, and cleared her throat. “Let’s see about getting out of here. Try your phones.”

  Logan unclipped his and pushed the side button. “Shit. It’s dead.”

  Natasha held the button in on hers hoping for better results. “Nothing.”

  “I forgot to turn mine on. Wait a minute,” Meat said. The phone powered up with an electronic waking cry. He held his phone out for them to see. “I had mine in a protective case. It’s a life saver when you fighting in war.”

  “Let me have it. I’m going to call Ben,” Natasha said, and took the phone.

  Chapter 19

  Matt shook as he tightly clung to the tree branch. It was probably near 100 °F, but his face felt bitter numbness as if Artic winds blew against it. Beads of sweat formed on his brow and began to stream down his cheeks.

  Chief was dead, ripped apart by the savage dinosaurs. The man only thought of his and Alex’s safety during the attack. He had showed bravery to the end, and Matt felt awe for another human like he had never before.

  There wasn’t much left of Alex either. The Troodons had been quite efficient in devouring their kill. Matt thought back at the rage that had built inside—rage he never knew he was capable of feeling. He killed a man. Not some degenerate trying to do him harm, but an associate, a man well respected in the community, and yes, one of his dearest friends.

  With fear and shock ruling his body now, he couldn’t imagine how he ever brought himself to go through with the deed. It was as if something overruled his mind, took control of his body, as if he were just a spectator and watched his foot hit Alex in the back, and sending the man to a gruesome death. He had made himself judge, jury, and executioner. Would he be able to live with those thoughts for the rest of his life?

  All the Troodons had gone. Those that had remained feeding on Chief and Alex didn’t wait for him to come down from the tree. The Troodons followed after those who had gone after the rest of the group. Meat, Caveman, Ron . . . Logan and Natasha.

  Strangely, when he thought of Logan and Natasha, he didn’t know which one he felt the most concern for. Logan had been such a good friend—just a really great guy. Always giving and never really asking for anything in return. Matt hadn’t met many people like that in life. Though he had a great attraction to Natasha, she had been stingy with her affections—hell, sometimes even common courtesy—giving him the cold shoulder and ignoring special things he had done for her. Yes, he did get that many of her actions were due to her relationship with Alex. But on this trip, he had made headway. He and Natasha had grown a lot closer—she had warmed up to his advances. It just wasn’t by the way she spoke to him. Matt could see it in her eyes and in her expression. It . . . it was the same way she had been looking at Alex over the last couple of days.

  Alex was gone, and if by some miracle the Redwater crew was able to defeat the Troodons and Natasha survive, he would be there to fill the void left in her heart.

  It had been awhile since he heard the last grenade blast, even longer hearing the suppressed machine gun fire. How long? Time had become a blur. Was it 5 minutes or 5 hours? The event had distorted reality long enough.

  He removed the satellite phone from his belt and dialed Ben.

  The phone rang, Ben answered, “Go.”

  Matt went to speak, and the words refused to come out.

  “Hello . . . Matt?”

  This was ridiculous. Matt’s lips quivered, and his face was so tight he didn’t think he’d be able to form the words.

  “Matt . . . Matt . . .”

  “Yeah,” he eked out.

  “Hey. At first, I thought this was a butt call. What’s up?” Ben asked.

  “It’s bad,” Matt whispered. “Really bad.”

  The phone on Ben’s end went silent.

  He knew his friend’s mind raced wildly right now considering the possibilities. He had to get it out. “There was an attack. Troodons. I don’t know how many, but a lot.” Matt looked around the area and figured there were at least 20 whole carcasses lying about. There were more, blown apart to varying degrees. “I only know that Chief and Alex are dead.”

  Ben gasped, and said, “No . . . Alex, no. Did . . . did . . .”

  “Yeah. Troodons got him. Chief too.”

  “What about . . . what about the others?”

  “They, uh, they were overwhelmed and retreated north. I don’t know what happened to any of them. Maybe they found a place to hide,” Matt said.

  “No one else has called.” The tone in Ben’s voice showed he feared the worst.

  “Maybe it’s too soon. I didn’t realize it until I turned on my phone, but this only started a little more than half hour ago. They might still be on the run.”

  “True. So, you need to get back here. Are you hurt in any way?” Ben asked.

  “No. Alex and I climbed a tree during the attack. He . . . he was so worried about Natasha, he leaned too far out while trying to keep an eye on her and . . . and he just slipped and fell.”

  “Damn the luck,” Ben said, and paused for a few moments. “I’m sorry, man, but I’m in no shape to come get you.”

  “I know, and I don’t expect you to. I have two options, leave now before scavengers arrive to feed on the dead Troodons, or wait and see if the others survive and come back for me. I guess I need to roll the dice and just come back now,” Matt said, his stomach quivering at the thought of leaving the safety of the tree and making the trip back to the Warthog alone.

  “If it were me, I’d leave now,” Ben said.

  “Yeah. That’s what I need to do.”

  “Look, I should call Coop and tell him, but I’m going to wait for you to get back first. I want you to leave your phone on for the trip back. I won’t be able to help you if you get in trouble, but . . . but I want to know . . .”

  “I understand. If the roles were reversed, I’d want to know if something bad happened—to have closure.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s a polite way to put it,” Ben said.

  “Okay. I’m going put my phone on my belt and climb down the tree. I’ll stay in voice contact along the way.”

  “Great. Matt?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Come back home to me, buddy.”

  “You know it,” Matt said. He clipped his phone to his belt and carefully descended the tree.

  He had to avoid a pile of shredded clothing and goo—that was Alex—at the base of the tree. It was hard to wrap his mind around the fact that was all that remained of a human he once knew.

  Chief’s body had been desecrated to the same extent. The mercenary’s backpack had been torn during the feeding frenzy and the contents strewn about. Two hand grenades caught his interest. He picked them up. The devices looked simple enough, if they worked like he’d seen in the movies. Hold the handle, pull the pin, release the grenade when ready, and hit the fucking dirt before it exploded. The two explosives clipped onto his belt.

  Matt picked up Chief’s rifle and held it across his chest. He hoped all he ha
d to do is aim and pull the trigger, because beyond that, he didn’t know how to operate the weapon. The area looked like a bloody battlefield, much like photos he’d seen from World War II.

  A medium-sized pterosaur flew down from above and landed next to a dead Troodon. It began to eat, paying Matt no mind.

  He knew more would come to enjoy the feast.

  It was time to get the hell out of there.

  *

  “All right, guys. We’re finally here,” Coop said, and then powered down the Mule. “You are free to walk about.”

  The trip to the cave had been without any major incident. During the early part of yesterday, they saw many of the four-legged herd species of dinosaurs roaming about. Fortunately, the Mule either scared them from the path, or provided no interest. No other dinosaur had treated them as a threat, as the Triceratops had the previous day. On one hand it was a shame they killed the beast, but on the other, he grilled up as one fine steak. The meal would have been a bit more enjoyable had he paired it with a fine cabernet.

  Coop got out of the Mule and massaged his buttocks, thankful he had a week or so before he’d have to make the trip again. The area was a bit in the wide open, but tree cover was close by. Nothing should be able to sneak up on them except, of course, something swooping down from above.

  “Let’s go to the cave and see if it’s big enough to make camp there. It’d be easier to defend if we could,” Coop said, and then his phone buzzed. He brought it to his ear, and answered, “Coop, here.”

  “It’s Matt. I’ve got some bad news.”

  “Fuck, I don’t like bad news,” Coop whispered to himself. “What is it?”

  “A little more than an hour ago . . . there was an attack. Chief and the Professor were killed.”

  Coop’s heart sank. Chief was a man that had earned his respect many times over. “What got ’em?”

  “Troodons.”

  “Okay, what the fuck are Troodons?” Coop was mad, mad at losing a friend. He couldn’t hold the anger in.

  “Bipedal theropod—about the size of a man. The guys killed most of them. There . . . there were just so many.”

  “So everyone else is okay? Put Ron on. I want to talk to him,” Coop said.

  Don had been unloading supplies from the rear. After Coop had said Ron, Don came around from the back and cast a wary gaze at Coop.

  “Ron’s not here. He’s missing. Meat, Caveman, Natasha, Logan . . . we don’t know where they are.”

  “Missing?” Coop said in an above normal level.

  Don crept to Coop’s side, turning his right ear as if to better hear the conversation. He then jerked the phone from his belt, touched the screen in rapid taps, and brought it to his ear.

  Suge and Bats were on the other side of the Mule, staring intently Coop’s way.

  “The Troodons cut Chief, Alex, and me away from the others. Chief ordered Alex and me up a tree. They came so fast with so many that Chief didn’t have a chance. Alex somehow fell out of the tree, and the Troodons were on him as soon as he hit the ground. The others had to fall back. I didn’t see anyone die, but I did think I might have heard someone scream. I’m not sure.”

  Coop turned his gaze to Don, who slowly shook his head.

  “Ben’s making calls right now,” Matt said. “Ben, any luck?” the associate professor’s voice was slightly muffled. “He says no.”

  They had just arrived at the destination, and now this. Coop had to decide if he should complete the mission he was paid to do, or do the right thing and head back to the Warthog. He could take a vote, knowing what Don would say, but there was a large bonus waiting for every one if the trip ended successfully. If Ron, Caveman, and Meat were dead, it wouldn’t serve any purpose to leave now. He couldn’t bring them back. He—

  “Wait! Ben’s phone’s ringing!” Matt said.

  The surprised voice snapped him out of his funk.

  “It’s Natasha! She’s alive!” Matt said, sounding happy and relieved at the same time. “Wait . . . Meat and Logan are alive, too.”

  Coop held his breath, waiting to hear more names.

  “Hang on,” Matt said.

  Matt’s and Ben’s voices sounded distant, and Coop was not able to hear what was said. Whatever it was, he was certain the news wasn’t good.

  “Coop.” Matt had returned to the phone. “I’m sorry to say that Ron and Caveman died saving the others.”

  “I see,” Coop said. He looked over to Don, whose eyes pleaded for an answer. Coop lowered his gaze to the ground and bit his lip. Ron and Don had been together all their lives, most times acting as one individual rather than two separate people. This was going to be hard for Don to deal with.

  Something inside Don must have told him that which he feared the most had come true. The poor man began to slowly walk in a circle, shifting from side to side on either foot while shaking his head. “Roll Tide,” he told himself in a soft voice. “Roll Tide,” he repeated over and over.

  “What do we do now? Are you coming back?” Matt asked.

  “I’ve got some thinking to do. First, tell Ben to hang up. I’m going to call Meat and find out what’s going on. After that, I’ll give you a call back. Is that clear?” Coop said, knowing it sounded more like an order than a request.

  “Yes. We’ll be right here waiting for your call,” Matt said.

  Coop ended the call, and was just about to step over to Don when a bone-chilling SKEER-AK sliced the air. He looked up and saw the biggest goddamned pterosaur he had ever imagined. The creature descended with the grace and speed he didn’t think possible of such a huge creature.

  A faint shadow grew larger around Don, and before anyone was able to react, two mighty claws had him by the shoulders and lifted him in the air.

  “Don!” Coop yelled, close enough to feel the air from the flying reptile’s wings and smell its funk. Damn it! They had all been so distracted by the call no one thought to be on the lookout.

  Suge and Bats raced to the back of the Mule to get rifles.

  Don’s terror filled cries sent knives down Coop’s spine. His friend was whisked away, and there was nothing he could do to help him.

  Bats had his rifle up first and fired as the pterosaur quickly gained altitude.

  “You’ll hit Don!” Coop cried.

  “That’s not the worst thing that could happen to him right now,” Bats said, and continued firing.

  Suge had his rifle up and ready, but he too must have realized the futility of the situation.

  The Pterosaur sailed out of sight, its destination the secret of the lost world of Patagonia.

  “Damn it! Damn it to Hell! I bet that fucking lizard-bird was stalking us. That’s probably the same one photographed here—the one that killed Prescott. It’s learned how to hunt humans. I bet the longer man stays around the more aggressive these fucking dinosaurs will become,” Coop said, and walked over to the Mule and pounded his fists on the hood.

  “But Don—” Suge started.

  “Don is fucking dead!” Coop yelled. “Ron is fucking dead,” he said in a slightly calmer voice, and sighed.

  Bats and Suge froze.

  “Chief . . . John . . . too. Meat’s the only one left alive,” Coop said, sounding exhausted.

  “Anyone else?” Suge asked.

  “The young girl, Natasha. Matt, Ben, and Logan,” Coop said.

  “What happened?” Bats asked.

  “Attacked by a bunch of two-legged meat eaters. Doesn’t matter what they are.” Coop slammed his fist on the Mule’s hood two more times. “We let our guard down . . . lulled into thinking this place was some kind of fucking glorified petting zoo.”

  “So what are we going to do?” Suge asked.

  Coop stood upright and composed himself, turned his head to the side, and said, “I’ll tell you what we’re going to do.” He pointed to the cave. “We’re going into that cave and find those damned diamonds. As soon as we do, we’re getting the fuck out of here. We’re too close just
to leave, but I’ll not risk anymore lives. Not even for all the money in the world.”

  He still needed to call Meat, find out where they were holed up, and make sure everyone was on the same page. Ben could drive the Warthog closer to their location. Beyond that, Meat and the two others would need to chance making a run to the Warthog. He saw no logic in sending Matt out to meet them. Coop touched the phone’s screen and brought it to his ear.

  As he raised his head and looked over at Suge and Bats, he first thought it was the wind rustling the tree branches behind them. Then a head poked through. A large crocodile-like head with a reptilian smile showing jagged sharp teeth slowly emerged.

  The phone fell from his grasp, and at first all he could do was lift a hand and point.

  His two companions must have seen the fear on his face. The two spun around as the creature bounded from the tree line.

  “Dinosaur!” Coop shouted, and fumbled to pull his pistol from the side.

  Bats threw his rifle down and jumped in the passenger’s side of the Mule.

  Suge ran to the side and brought up his rifle. He fired a few three round bursts from the machine gun and then launched a rocket.

  The dinosaur roared as the missile hit its side and exploded. Though obviously hurt, it didn’t slow much at all.

  The Mule’s .50 caliber lifted from the roof and zeroed in on the creature. The dinosaur was some type of giant theropod. When he saw the spines on its back, he remembered Alex telling him about the Spinosaurus. Alex said it was bigger than the T-rex, and this son-of-a-bitch was a monster!

  Bullets zipped out the .50 cal., striking the dinosaur in the chest. Bats had kept his cool and gave them a chance to win. Coop felt like he had brought a Popsicle to a knife fight as he fired his weapon at the charging dinosaur.

  The Spinosaurus slowed as it approached the Mule. Coop was amazed that the animal didn’t immediately drop. Its chest was a shredded mess, and blood gushed out painting it red.

  Despite Bats’ best effort, the Spinosaurus turned as it reached the Mule and brought its tail around—slamming it across the side.

  Suge ran for his life, and Coop backed toward the cave. The Mule rolled over and came to a rest with its wheels pointing to the sky.