Lost World II: Savage Patagonia

by Dane Hatchell

  The Brazilian mercenaries snapped to attention and headed out the tent with Diaz on their heels.

  “What now?” Ben asked.

  “I’ll have your quarters prepared. You can use your free time to each fill out a report. Waterman will be in charge here, as I’ll be leaving soon and heading back to the U.S. Get some rest and try to make friends with the Brazilians. Each one understands English but to varying degrees. It wouldn’t hurt to learn a bit about their culture. You can search the internet with your phones which I will return to you. Don’t try and contact anyone in Patagonia. We have access to all lines. You’ll take orders from Diaz once on the Warthog. You’ll find your chances of success depends greatly on your cooperation,” Lear said.

  “Understood,” Ben said. He was either the best soldier or the biggest pain in the ass.

  Matt was committed now. He doubted that he or the other two would be able to change their mind. Lear was one strange character. Something inside told Matt that had they refused to cooperate, the situation may have gone south for them. Feeling like he had nothing to lose, he gazed at Lear, and asked, “What would you have done if we had refused to go back?”

  Lear looked a bit surprised at the question. He said, “Had you decided to leave, I would have put you aboard the Chinook, and sent you on your merry way. I’m a man of my word.”

  “That’s great to know, Mr. Lear.”

  “And somewhere over the South American jungle, each of you would have been tossed out to plunge to your deaths. Your friends and loved ones would be told the story of how the plane carrying you to safety met its untimely demise in a thunderstorm. No one will know the precise location, so there’s no fear of investigation. We’ll use that same story if all of your companions don’t make it back alive from Patagonia,” Lear said.

  A lump formed in Matt’s throat. Lear was a functioning lunatic. He looked over at Ben and saw the athletic man throw up a steel-like gaze at Lear’s growing smirk.

  “I don’t like loose endings,” Lear said. “Either you all come back alive, and we all live happily ever after, or you all die. Accidental deaths are a tragedy. There will be few questions for us to answer, and insurance payments to your families will dry many tears. I don’t want to worry with any survivors calling my business activities into question.”

  Chapter 12

  The Mule rode the desolate land toward the east. Coop was at the wheel with Natasha sitting between him and Suge. Bats and Chief sat in the backseat with Susan in the middle. Susan noticeably leaned in toward Chief, which wasn’t surprising. Coop wondered, though, if Susan’s objective was to get as far away as possible from Bats rather than getting closer to Chief.

  Ron and Don stood on the back bumper, and after only three breaks over the six-hour ride, Coop figured their old leg muscles must be getting tired. The two refused to rotate out of position, saying the spirit of The Bear made them good.

  Caveman, Meat, and Will Prescott sat on the blade. Thank goodness for beefed-up front suspension. The three did partially block Coop’s driver’s view, but fortunately the roof camera gave him a far and wide picture of things to come. Which so far hadn’t been much more than scrubby grass on a mostly flat landscape.

  Alex and Gerald Hawkins lay flat on the roof on their stomachs, the fifty available for a hand hold, or sat with their legs hanging down by the passenger side windows. Coop felt bad that some got to ride in relative comfort while others had to endure the constant bumps and jiggles against an unforgiving surface.

  For safety’s sake, he didn’t drive over 20 mph. The odometer read they had traveled ninety miles so far.

  “The map shows it won’t be long before we reach jungle,” Suge said.

  “Think I can see some trees in the distance. It’s funny how the terrain can change so quickly around here,” Coop said.

  “Must have something to do with soil conditions and underground water. Natasha thinks the water table may be above the magma veins. The hot magma might be pushing the underground streams toward the surface providing water for all the jungle foliage,” Suge said.

  Interesting theory, Coop thought. Patagonia was an anomaly in every sense. For dinosaurs to exist for all these centuries, the living conditions had to be kept within certain parameters—of which variations had to remain minimal. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like the entire ecosystem had been engineered for the specific purpose of preserving dinosaurs. Technology to pull something like that off was well beyond anything mankind could do in the next one hundred years—maybe the next five hundred years. It boggled his mind to think of the enormity of such an engineering feat.

  As the jungle neared, the ride became softer. The ground underneath the tracks turned from reddish clay-like earth to rich brown soil. Smaller palms and other types of trees sparsely outlined the perimeter. Taller Trees and lush green foliage loomed before them.

  Coop sat up in his seat. “We’re about to get into the thick of things. How far is the river from here?”

  “A little over a hundred miles straight shot. But we’re going to have to take a few detours along the way. Might add twenty to thirty miles,” Suge said.

  “That’s not too bad. We made pretty good time in the open. Now that we’re in the jungle, we’re going to have to cut our speed way back,” Coop said.

  “We also have to worry about arriving at Lear’s River too soon. The area’s sure to be hot. We don’t need to get there before the Warthog’s in place. Waterman said the satellite photos showed the path through the mountains didn’t look as bad as they feared. They estimated it would take at least thirty-six hours to clear it. But you know how things could change once the job gets started. It might take longer,” Chief said.

  “Yeah. We don’t know how long it’s going to take us to get to the rendezvous point either. Neither one of us can afford to just sit around and wait for the other to arrive,” Coop said.

  “At least they’ll have the Warthog around them for protection. We’re basically wide-ass open in the Mule,” Bats said.

  “We never opened up the big gun on the Warthog on any dinosaurs. I’d bet it could turn a T-rex into ground meat in thirty seconds,” Suge said.

  “Okay, this is where we slow things down. Suge, I’ll need you to be my navigator as I negotiate the terrain,” Coop said. “I’ll get a headache if I keep looking at the GPS and back out the windshield.”

  “Sure thing, boss,” Suge said. “Just keep going left until you pass those two trees and edge to the right.”

  The Mule traveled now slightly above 5 mph. The dense foliage did more than present driving hazards. The thick brush and huge plants walled off the living dangers lurking in the jungle.

  “We’ve got a problem,” Coop said. “The guys riding the blade are going to have to get off and walk. Things are too thick ahead, and I’ll have to use the blade to clear a path for us.” He slowed the Mule to a stop and called out the window, “Hey, you guys are going to have to get off the blade. It’s either that, or you’ll be eating jungle as I plow through it.”

  “Yeah, I saw that coming,” Meat said.

  “Y’all can start calling me Cavemanasaurus,” Caveman said as he slid to the ground.

  “Why’s that?” Coop asked.

  “’Cause my ass is sore. Get it? Saurus…sore ass.”

  “Yeah, I should have picked up on that, knowing you,” Coop said.

  Caveman cackled at his joke, and he and the other two walked to the rear of the Mule.

  Ron and Don stepped off the bumper and joined them. “Hold on, we want to stretch our legs a bit.”

  “Aren’t you guys tired of standing?” Will asked.

  “Not so much. Knees’ getting a might stiff though,” Ron said. “Don and I can sleep standing up. We joke sometimes that we’re part horse.”

  “Roll Tide,” Don said.

  Alex slapped the roof, and said, “Hold on, I’m getting down.”

  “Me too,” Gerald said.

  “Shou
ld we stop here for a while?” Coop asked.

  Chief said, “Hasn’t been two hours since our last break. Plus, it’ll be getting dark soon. I’d rather find a better place to spend the night than out here in the middle of everything. Let’s go farther and be on the lookout.”

  “Okay,” Coop said.

  “Suge, check the GPS and see if there are rock structures nearby where we can camp,” Chief said.

  “Will do.”

  The blade’s hydraulics hummed as the implement pivoted vertically. The fern-like plants stood a few feet taller than the vehicle. Coop put the Mule into gear and cleared a swath effortlessly through the jungle. The others followed on foot with rifles at the ready.

  Walls of foliage folded and opened to partially clear parcels. Coop hoped this was an exceptionally dense area. He doubted they could travel more than 5 mph at this rate—which was faster than an average person’s walking speed. He didn’t want the men on foot any longer than they had to be.

  “Guys, if this keeps up much longer, we’re going to trades place with some of the men back there,” Coop said. “I don’t want to wear anyone out. Plus, I’m feeling guilty sitting here soaking up air condition.”

  “We can swap out now, if you’d like,” Suge said. “I know Ron and Don would never admit it, but I bet those old joints of theirs are feeling their age.”

  The blade met the next obstacle, and after a few feet in, hit something solid—jarring everyone forward. Coop immediately let off the accelerator.

  The bray of an unknown creature cut through the gentle song of the jungle—sending chills down Coop’s back. “Oh shit…”

  “What is it?” Natasha said.

  “We’re about to find out,” Chief said leaning forward.

  “Get ready, men,” Meat called out.

  Brush rustled, and something much bigger than the Mule scraped against the driver’s side. A creature with orange and black markings on its body lumbered by braying like an angry bull. Coop recognized the skin coloration from the video the drone took at Lear’s River. It was a Stegosaurus. A pissed-off, Stegosaurus.

  The men behind the Mule fell back as the dinosaur stomped past the vehicle and into the open pathway, with the Mule’s rear camera blocked from viewing the scene by its large mass.

  “Get the fifty zeroed in on it,” Bats said.

  “Can’t right now,” Suge said. “It’s too close. Plus, the guys are on the other side of it.”

  “Let’s hold our fire. Alex, Will, Gerald—scatter,” Meat called out. “Fall back, men. I don’t want to start shooting unless we have to.”

  The Stegosaurs stood over twelve feet tall and nearly thirty feet long. Its head was small on a short neck, with short front legs that kept its head naturally low to the ground. Its rounded back had spade-shaped plates sticking out. As it continued toward Meat and the others, its stiffened tail, which loomed about the height of an average man above the ground, came into view—deadly looking spikes jutted from the end. Black perforated bands circled the orange colored skin.

  As the dinosaur moved farther from the Mule, Coop and his crew watched the Redwater team back down the path.

  Suge moved the .50 caliber with the remote control and pointed it at the dinosaur’s body. “I can’t see its head or chest. I can’t shoot at it with the guys in the line of fire.”

  “Let’s wait this out and hope it leaves without giving us any trouble.” No sooner than the words had left Coop’s mouth than the beast moved with uncanny speed—twisting its body sideways and slinging its tail at the men.

  Meat and Caveman flattened to the ground as the meaty part of the tail whooshed above their heads.

  Ron and Don weren’t as fortunate. The spikes caught them waist high, and sent them careening into the jungle.

  “It got Ron and Don!” Chief said. He pushed the door open and hit the ground running, his Seven at the ready.

  Bats opened his door.

  “See if you can find the twins,” Coop said.

  Bats left without saying a word.

  “Get ready, Suge. If it gives an opening to the vitals, take a shot.”

  Meat and Caveman opened fire while lying flat to the ground. The suppressed shots mixed with the bangs of exploding bullets.

  The Stegosaurs didn’t like getting the business end of the rifle. It backed away and roared a defiant cry.

  Chief had made it past the dinosaur and dropped to one knee. The JNY-7 came up, and he took aim—sending the RPG into its chest. The rocket exploded on target; the concussion hit the Mule like a solid object.

  Flesh and red blood flew out like a meteor hitting mud. The Stegosaurus heaved in pain. Meat and Caveman continued to fire. Chunks of flesh and bone erupted from the dinosaur’s head as exploding bullets whittled it away like a target in a shooting gallery.

  One leg of the Stegosaurus buckled, sending it crashing on its side. Its tail rose and crashed to the ground—the deadly spikes missing the Mule by a few feet. What remained of its head listed over and thumped to the ground. It was dead.

  Coop and the rest left the Mule. Susan ran by Chief and hugged his chest. Meat and Caveman were up and poking the Stegosaurus.

  “Where’s—” Coop began.

  “Over here!” Alex called.

  Everyone followed Alex’s voice a few yards away and found him, Bats, Will, and Gerald all by Ron and Don’s side. The twins’ body were misshapen where it looked like their spines had been broken. The top halves of their bodies folded over at a weird angle. Gashes in their stomach and chest left gaping holes from the dinosaur’s spikes.

  Natasha gasped and started crying.

  “My God…” Coop said, and heaved out a breath of air.

  Meat lowered his head, sniffed, and cleared his throat.

  Everyone remain silent for several moments.

  Suge wiped his watery eyes. “You know, I used to get so tired of hearing Roll Tide. I never let them know I was a LSU Tigers fan. I didn’t want them harassing me all the time. But man…I’d give anything if I could bring them back. I’d cherish every time they’d say it. I’d say Roll Tide along with them,” his voice breaking at the end.

  “They’re gone,” Susan said. “They’re really gone this time.”

  The old reality was a harsh taskmaster. When you die, you’re dead. Coop thought the finality of it all seemed such a shame. A person lives on this Earth for an infinitesimal amount time and then the light goes out as if it had never existed. What was the point of life in the first place? It now seemed to Coop that for life to have any purpose at all, there would have to be a chance of existence of some sorts when the body dies. He had never been a religious man, and he certainly didn’t think he’d ever believe in some of the lamebrain things religious people adhered to. But if fate was kind enough to get him out of here alive, he would delve deeper into the spiritual side of life until he found truth.

  “Dead is dead,” Bats said as if he found some relief in the fact.

  “What do we do with them?” Alex asked.

  “We just can’t leave them out in the open,” Natasha said.

  “Will and I both have folding shovels in our backpacks. We could bury them,” Gerald said.

  Coop looked over at Chief. The Redwater leader nodded.

  “Make it quick. Night will be falling fast, and I want be out of the thick of things if possible,” Coop said.

  Gerald and Will dropped their backpacks and removed the shovels, stepping over to find a nearby gravesite.

  “Everyone else be on the watch. At first sign of anything we leave,” Coop said.

  ***

  “There’s a rock formation about a mile ahead. The satellite estimates show it to be about two hundred feet long and the highest point around forty feet,” Suge said.

  “I think I see it over there. Light’s fading fast, but we’ll be there in no time,” Coop said. Everyone was aboard the Mule. The terrain still had a large number of trees but less jungle foliage. The area was hilly, though, so
speed still had to be limited.

  Coop had called in and reported the twins’ deaths. Waterman sounded genuinely saddened. Coop was glad Lear hadn’t been in on the conversation. Because if that man had asked one time about those goddamn diamonds, he was going to open the pouch and dump them on the ground. Waterman was a good man. Hell, most of Lear’s employees were good people. That’s what made Lear and Ace Corporation the success that they were. Henry Lear might be light on the humility side, but he’d admit it if you asked him that. The man had no illusions as to who and what he was. Coop had admired Lear for that and made certain exceptions for his harsh actions. Right now, Coop was in no mood to make excuses for anyone. In fact, if he made it out, things were going to be different. If nothing else, Patagonia had widened his worldview, and there were lots of wrongs in his life he needed to right.

  “Uh, oh,” Suge said. “Thermal camera shows something big over by the rocks.”

  “Stop the Mule, Coop,” Chief said. “How big is it?”

  “Let me zoom in…computer reads it at twelve feet tall and about twenty-five feet long. It’s on two legs, so it’s some type of badass theropod. Might be a T-rex.”

  “Why are we stopping?” Alex asked from the roof. “We’re almost to the rocks, and it’s getting so dark I can barely see.”

  “Dinosaur—big theropod,” Coop said.

  “Coop, let me take the driver’s seat. The rest of you need to get out and wait. Suge and I will take care of the problem,” Chief said. He put his hand out the window and tapped on the roof, and called out, “Everyone off the Mule.”

  Well, that is what Chief and the Redwater crew were best at—taking care of problems. Without any questions, Coop got out, and gave his seat over. The backseat emptied, and the Mule left the others to complete the mission.

  Coop figured they were a half mile, away. They watched the Mule’s headlights come to a stop. The fifty rattled off its ordnance. The Mule turned around and headed back to get them.

  “That was quick,” Coop said.

  Caveman smacked his lips. “Hot damn! We’s eating fresh meat tonight!”