Lost World II: Savage Patagonia

by Dane Hatchell

  The two waited as Matt descended and continued over to the man in the business suit, and then they followed.

  Logan couldn’t help but feel like he was walking into a courtroom and about to go on trial. The seven men waiting remained ridged in position. No greeting offered; only blank stares ahead from five of the black-clad mercenaries. The other mercenary, the one standing next to the man in the business suit, wore a red beret instead of black. His nametag sewn on his uniform read Diaz. The old guy in the suit had his head cocked back slightly as he looked down his nose. He reminded Logan of a vulture waiting for a wounded animal to die.

  Matt stopped in front of the old man and Diaz, waited for Logan and Ben to arrive next to him, and said, “I’m Matt King. That’s Ben Wilson. Logan Sandler’s on the end.”

  The old man let go of his right lapel and plucked the cigar from the corner of his mouth. “We know who you are. We knew you had made it over the mountains before you called in—real time satellite imagery.” He flicked his cigar, sending a half inch of ash to the ground. “My name is Henry Lear. I own Ace Corporation.”

  “Mr. Lear,” Matt said, obvious surprise in his voice. “Coop mentioned your name from time to time. I…we know how important this expedition was to you.”

  “I’ve achieved a fair amount of greatness in my time on this Earth. As successful as I’ve built Ace Corporation, this venture was to be my pinnacle achievement. But you must realize, you haven’t just disappointed me, you have disappointed a host of investors.”

  Ben stiffened, and for a moment, Logan thought his friend was going to unleash a verbal tongue lashing.

  Matt’s gaze narrowed, and he turned his head slightly to the side. “I fail to see how I’ve done, or we’ve done, anything wrong.”

  “I’m disappointed, Mr. King. I don’t like failure. Who would you like me to express my disappointment to? Coop? He’s not here. Chief or any of the other Redwater crew? Can’t happen. You’re all I’ve got,” Lear said.

  “That doesn’t seem fair,” Matt said.

  “I’m Henry Lear. I don’t have to be fair.”

  Matt raised upturned palms in front of his chest. “We just want to go home.”

  “I’m sure you do. But first you’ll have to be debriefed by Captain Diaz. Diaz is the leader of a Brazilian taskforce I hurriedly put together. I highly recommend you give him your full cooperation.”

  “A brazillion? I don’t see a brazillion. I only see six,” Ben said.

  “Fuck me,” Logan said only loud enough for him to hear. Ben just had to take a poke at authority.

  Diaz broke down in laughter. The contrived mirth towered over the silence. He eventually composed himself, and said to his crew, “Ele confunde Brazilian com bilhões, como seu Presidente Bush.”

  Laughter roared from the mercenaries. Lear was content looking lazy eyed toward the three survivors and blowing smoke from the side of his mouth.

  “You Americans. You are so funny,” Diaz said, and turned to his men. “Equipe, if this man or the other two disrespect Mr. Lear again, shoot them.”

  Chapter 4

  “So, what do you want to do today?” Will Prescott asked.

  “I was thinking we could take a drive downtown. Spend the day at the art museum and grab some cocktails at Olive-R-Twist afterward. I’m dying for a martini with blue cheese stuffed olives,” Gerard Hawkins said.

  “Not today. The car’s in for repairs.”

  “Think we can saddle up a few dinosaurs? I’m getting tired of walking everywhere we go.”

  “At least we have some shoes for our feet now.” Will pointed to four shoe-sized wads of pterodactyl wing by the cave’s wall. Vines had been woven into the top to act as laces.

  “Yep. And some dinosaur underwear to maintain our dignity. I wish it would breathe better. It makes my ass sweat. Doesn’t do much to support the nads, though. I’m going to have to figure out how to make a jockstrap.”

  “You know, if we make it out of here, we might be able to sell our clothing on EBay. We could make a fortune.”

  Gerald pulled off a piece of meat skewered by a stick above a now extinguished cooking fire. “More pterodactyl?”

  “Thanks, but I’ve stomached as much as I can for one morning. Plus, it gives me gas.” Will lifted a leg, made a path for escape, and let one rip.

  “I’m eating,” Gerald said, sounding offended. “Have some manners.”

  “What for? It’s just me and you. We’re not bound by any of society’s rules. We can make our own. Think about it. We were brought up a certain way—had rules imposed on us by others. We think there’s a proper way to do things, but there’s nothing genetic in mankind to make it so.”

  “Yeah, but rules are what sets us apart from animals,” Gerald said after swallowing a bite of meat.

  “But we are animals.”

  “Okay. We’re animals with rules. That’s what makes us human and superior to other animals,” Gerald said, and then ran a fingernail between his front teeth to remove a trapped piece of meat.

  “What makes us superior to animals, is might. If we couldn’t have found ways to beat them, then they would have the rule of the world. Not us.”

  “You know, for us to be having this discussion is a sign that we’re adapting. You remember how it was after the resurrection. We hardly said a word that didn’t deal with survival.”

  “I guess as long as we have shelter and plenty of food we’ll be able to maintain our humanity. We’ll revert back to animals if resources dry up. Then it’ll come down to just me and you. The strongest would survive.”

  “Or the smartest,” Gerald said.

  “Animals have smarts too. Some animals are smarter than others. The strongest, though, has the advantage.”

  “I didn’t say animals weren’t smart. I think having smarts is more of an advantage than strength.”

  “Who would win in a fight? A T-rex or a human.”

  “In a surprise attack the T-rex. But give the human some time, he could set a trap and win. Intelligence will beat out strength if enough time is allowed for the plan to develop.”

  “But life’s not scripted. You’ll never know what’s around the corner until you turn down it.”

  “Dude, I agree. Why are we arguing about this silly shit? We sound like an old married couple fighting over which way the toilet paper should face,” Gerald said.

  Will ran his finger through the dust on the cave’s floor and picked up a rock. “I don’t know…I guess I’m just bored.”

  “You go from scared every second of your life to bored in less than twenty-four hours? I didn’t realize how high-strung you were.”

  “Sorry. I guess I need a change of scenery.”

  “Water supply is getting low. We’ll have to make a trip by the river. I hope that pterodactyl’s friends and family aren’t around in these parts.” Gerald rose and wiped his fingers on the backside of his loincloth. “You ready to head out?”

  “Yeah. Let’s go risk our lives getting water. You know, I used to be a thrill seeker back in my teens. I rode motorcycles, bungee jumped, and even skydived a few times. None of that comes close to the adrenaline rush of fighting for your life. We do that on a routine basis now. I don’t think any man-made activity will ever top that.” Will stepped over to the weapons cache, picked up his bow, and put it over his shoulder. A crude quiver made from pterosaur wing contained eight arrows, and it went over the other shoulder.

  “Hey, we could go into business. We can offer people the thrill of a lifetime. All we have to do is buy a large ranch somewhere and put some wild animals on it. You know, tigers, pumas, wolves, buffalo. I hear buffalo can be some mean son-of-a-bitches. Let them pay us to run through the jungle for the ultimate survival experience.” Gerald gathered sections of bamboo they used as water containers. He had woven a crude backpack of sorts from an indigenous plant with fan-like leaves. The leaves were nearly as tough as leather. What made it usable was that the fibers in the leaves tore easily,
vertically, by hand. Cutting it crossways took much effort, but that quality is what gave it strength. The bamboo went in the backpack, and then Gerald snaked his arms through the straps.

  “If we get out of here, I’m going to spend some time alone. This place, dying and coming back, it’s done a number on my head. I have to rethink what my life is really all about. Do some real soul searching. Maybe meditation and shit,” Will said, and then picked up two long spears.

  “Are we talking about going to the top of a mountain and speaking with a Guru or hanging out in a cabin by the lake smoking weed?” Gerald asked.

  Will handed Gerald a long spear. “Both.”

  ***

  A humid breeze blew as the sun rose in the clouded sky. Gerald looked overhead at the bright spot remembering the glowing orb he used to take for granted. Would he ever see a sunrise or sunset again? The most spectacular sunrise he’d seen was in Tanzania when he visited the Serengeti National Park. The stars at night looked like someone had spilled a bucketful of diamonds on the deepest black velvet. As morning approached, the stars faded, and the brightest orange fire peaked the horizon. Before long, the terrain warmed to life revealing green grass and acacia trees peppering the landscape. The faint sweet smell of acacias flowers mixed with the earthy musk of the wild. As the sun rose, the clouds above glowed with its reflection. For a brief moment, the horizon looked like it raged on fire. The sun continued its journey, and its light dried the mists and dreams of night.

  No time for Memory Lane now. He needed to put all his senses on full alert. Trees offered cover from a dive-bomb attack from the giant pterosaurs. A few of the smaller varieties of the flying reptiles hung out in the treetops now. For the most part, they weren’t any concern. One time, though, a pterosaur decided to relieve itself and baptized Gerald across his back as he walked underneath.

  They had traveled enough times to the stream to form a path. The groundcover was some type of grass that grew less than a foot high. Stickers hadn’t been a problem. There were a variety of bushes that grew long thorns and they had to be careful of those. The thorns were as useful as they were a hazard, as they made excellent needles.

  Will stopped and stared off to the west side of the path.

  Instinctually, Gerald froze in his tracks and lowered his body, bringing the spear up in two hands, preparing for the worst. He listened carefully and spied in the direction of what had Will’s attention. After several seconds passed without any clues, he stepped over to his companion’s side.

  “What is it?” Gerald whispered, keeping his body low.

  “I wonder what’s over there? We haven’t explored that area yet.”

  “We’re not here to explore. We’re here to get water, remember?”

  “Yeah, but I think we should venture forth a bit—look for other stuff to eat. I mean, a man can’t live on dinosaur alone. We need some fruits and vegetables—some roughage.”

  “Some roughage might help you with your gas problem,” Gerald said.

  “I’m serious. Let’s branch off here and look around a bit.”

  “Don’t you want to get water first and think about it?”

  “No. If we get water you’ll use that as an excuse not to explore and want to go back to the cave.”

  “You’ve got me figured out. Okay, we’ll take a quick tour. If we find anything that looks edible, it’s your turn to be the guinea pig and eat a little.” Gerald gritted his teeth and widened his mouth. “I can still taste that blueberry thing I tried a week ago. That was the bitterest tasting shit I ever put in my mouth.”

  “Deal,” Will said. “C’mon, I’ll lead the way.”

  The two slinked through the jungle, careful to watch where they stepped. So far they hadn’t encountered any snakes but weren’t sure if any were in Patagonia.

  After a good half hour had passed without coming upon anything new, Gerald was about to suggest they call it quits when Will stopped and pointed.

  “Look, over there. Those trees. They look different.”

  Gerald turned his gaze and tried to focus in the distance. “They do look different. Look in the tops, there something orange and red in there.”

  “Might be something we can eat,” Will said.

  “You know, I think I’ve seen trees like that before. Yeah, I think that’s a wild date palm.”

  “Dates? We can eat that.”

  “They’re edible, for sure. It’ll be good to eat something sweet for a change. I think dates have enough roughage to do you some good, too,” Gerald said.

  Fifteen minutes later, the two arrived at the nearest date palm. The palm leaves crowned the top and arched toward the ground—in some way reminding Gerald of an exploding skyrocket. The clusters of mostly orange and red dates hung in large bunch to the base of the tree’s crown. Three tiny theropods dined on some of the fallen fruit below. The dinosaurs scampered away as soon as they saw the humans approach.

  “I wonder what those dinos would taste like,” Gerald said.

  “They’d taste like the same kind of lizard we’ve eaten before.”

  “Not necessarily. They had a diet containing fruit. What an animal eats can affect the taste. I had a gator farmer tell me if you fed a gator chicken, it tasted like chicken. If you fed it fish, it’d taste like fish. Those little critters might make some good eating,” Gerald said.

  “We’ll just make a sauce out of the dates and mop on them while they’re cooking.”

  “Yeah, if we can get any. Those date clusters are pretty high up there.” Will turned his gaze downward. “These on the ground look rotten.”

  “You smell that?” Will asked.

  “Yeah, these rotten dates stink.”

  “They may stink, but they’re fermenting. You know what that means?”

  Gerald laughed. “I sure do. We’ll be eating dinosaur on a stick and washing it down with date wine.”

  “The trees on down look smaller. We might be able to reach those clusters with our spears—especially if we tie the ends together and make it longer. Let’s go,” Will said and trotted off.

  In the excitement, Gerald caught himself ignoring his surroundings. He turned on his heels and did a quick 360, and then sped up to catch Will. The date palms had more space between them than the other trees, so an attack from above wasn’t out of the question.

  “Hey, look over there.” Will slowed to a walk, but didn’t stop at a tree with fruit low enough for them to reach with a single spear.

  “Where’re you going?”

  “Look, you see that?”

  Gerald turned his gaze away from the low hanging prize, and said, “The mountains are pretty. We’ve seen mountains before. Let’s get some dates.”

  “Look how low they are. We’re on a cliff. Let’s go see.” Will didn’t wait for Gerald to respond and headed off.

  Will’s curiosity might prove to be the death of them, Gerald thought. Still, if not for Will they would have missed finding the date trees.

  The terrain rose slightly uphill, and then when the two came to the crest, they saw a magnificent sight. The terrain came to an abrupt halt, and a valley full of trees covered the expanse all the way to the mountain range.

  The two looked at each other and then slowly walked over to the land’s edge. The valley was at least a hundred feet below. The only way down was also the quickest, but there would be no chance of surviving that jump.

  “It’s so beau—look over there!” Will exclaimed.

  Gerald followed Will’s pointed finger and saw what had his buddy so excited. In an open area between some trees stood a giant gray colored, bipedal dinosaur feeding on another slightly smaller animal. The large head went down for another mouthful of the unfortunate creature and came back up with a hunk in jaws filled with rows of sharp looking teeth. Part of the meat hung out the side of its mouth and flapped in the wind as it chewed. Its legs had to be powerful to support the dinosaur, as its tail was so large it probably matched the upper body’s weight. The underside of
the dinosaur was pale in color. “This answers our question about other dinosaurs in Patagonia.”

  “It sure does. It was bad enough dealing with those giant pterodactyls and those other man-sized two legged lizards that got you before. That’s a fucking T-rex down there.”

  Gerald didn’t know many dinosaur names, but T-rex was one dinosaur practically everyone in the world knew of. “Yeah, and it’s eating something too. Can’t really tell from this angle. It’s got four legs. Only thing I can think of right now is that it could be a Triceratops or Stegosaurs. We’ve got the belly side to us, so I don’t know.”

  “I wouldn’t want to meet up with either one,” Will said, and cast a quick glance behind him. “I hope nothing that big is up here. Maybe all the large dinosaurs live in the valley.”

  “Let’s hope so.”

  The T-rex hesitated on the way going down for another bite and lifted its nose into the air. It turned its head in a few different directions and resumed eating.

  “Something’s shaking the tree limbs in front of the T-rex,” Will said.

  “I see a head…looks like another T-rex wants in on the action.”

  “The head looks smaller.”

  “Maybe it’s Junior coming to supper.”

  “No, its head is shaped different than the T-rex’s. There’s its neck—it’s pale green, not gray,” Will said.

  The second dinosaur wasn’t quite as tall as the T-rex, and its body didn’t match in mass either. It was slightly sleeker, and the three fingered claws posed more of a threat than those of the T-rex.

  “That might be an Allosaurus,” Gerald said. “I had some plastic dinosaurs as a kid, and the Allosaurus looked a lot like a Tyrannosaurus. It was smaller, though, like that one.”

  T-rex gulped down another mouthful and let out a screeching warning to the approaching interloper.

  Cold chills ran down Gerald’s back. He nervously laughed. “Oh, fuck. The shit’s about to get real.”

  The Allosaurus matched the battle cry with its own and inched its way closer.