Prehistoric: (A Prehistoric Thriller) (Bick Downs Book 1)

by Michael Esola

  Sweat continued to trickle down from his head to both sides of his face in a seemingly never-ending stream.

  Downs checked his Nike wrist watch, wondering when the others would be touching down, and how? He did a 360 degree turn, wondering once again if they were here? Would their entrance be as grand as his, or would they use a more civilized approach like a huge grand staircase.

  Downs moved forward a bit, and as he did so noticed for the first time the magnificent grand staircase that appeared to make its way down to the forest floor below. It seemed oddly out of place as he moved closer. He had been privy to a certain set of documents via the offices of John Corstine. These were quick to point out this grand staircase in all its beauty, showing how it started wide and formal at the bottom of the forest floor, gradually narrowing in the middle, and then beginning to widen once again until finally reaching its full width at the top of the boardwalk for all to marvel in as they ascended the last stair. He followed the sweeping staircase with his eyes for about forty feet before dense green foliage seemed to swallow it completely from visibility. Downs knew from the aerial photos from Corstine’s office that it did continue on though. He also knew that Corstine was no fool, and wouldn’t build staircases that led to nowhere, a la what Sarah Winchster had done in the early 1900’s with the Winchester Mystery House.

  “They should be here by now,” he muttered to himself, once again glancing down at his Nike wrist watch for a quick time check.

  Downs made his way forward until he was at the edge of the siding to the boardwalk and peered down over the railing. It was a long, long way down to the forest floor. He saw crisscrossing branches, vines, limbs, and a host of rainforest creepy crawlies that inhabited the canopy and the emergent layers of the rainforest.

  As he continued to peer over the railing, he let his mind roam to casual science for a brief moment. He remembered from adolescence that rainforests are divided into different layers of vegetation. The top of the rainforest layer being the emergent layer, followed by the canopy layer, next the understory layer, and lastly the forest floor. Downs assumed that the boardwalk itself fell somewhere in between the emergent layer and canopy layer.

  He continued to peer through the green leaves and branches, in some spots the interweaving and crisscrossing of the jungle itself was so dense that even the air itself seemed to be feeling the pinch. Downs could not see the forest floor below despite repeated attempts. Then something strange happened to him. It was a feeling from inside, and from where it came he did not know. As he stared down as far as his eyes would allow, a certain uneasiness washed over him. He suddenly felt flush and hot and had become quite dizzy to top it all off. He pulled away from the railing, sucking in deep breaths of the warm humid air.

  He tilted his head back, looking up at the blue sky above. He felt nauseous, yet he forced himself once more to peer over the side. Gripping the railing tightly he pulled himself closer to it, and then he closed his eyes as he continued to breathe in.

  Slowly he opened his eyes, the dense jungle below him was still in clear focus, but the feeling of uneasiness remained. He held on until he could take no more and pulled back quickly from the railing.

  Breathing hard, he hunched over and rested his hands on his knees.

  “Mr. Downs, I presume,” a voice suddenly rang out from behind.

  Downs turned around instantly, somewhat shaken and more than likely with the unmistakable look of someone who was becoming sicker by the minute.

  The man, in his late twenties, extended his hand towards him, and Downs managed a weak yet clammy handshake.

  “Forgive me for disturbing you. I am Collin Fairbanks, Mr. Corstine’s personal assistant. I look after Mr. Corstine’s personal and corporate investments as well as his overall well being. I have been tasked with overseeing the boardwalk project through to its completion.”

  Downs took a big gulp, mustering all the strength he could as he took a good look at the well-dressed man in a suit and tie who stood before him. Collin’s stunning dark suit was capped off by an equally bright and floor-stopping red tie. His hair was slicked back and his command of the English language was impeccable.

  Collin once again spoke. “Forgive me, sir, but you look terribly ill. Can I please get you something?”

  The manly side of Downs wanted to shake it off, dispelling what he was experiencing as nothing more than a minor inconvenience, but he knew deep down that his body was telling him something. Downs had never been the type of person to take free hand outs. He was always the kid in sports who never needed water in time-outs, proving to everyone else that he was both mentally and physically stronger than all. However, today was different. He wasn’t quite certain what it was that was different. He just didn’t feel himself. He wasn’t up to his usual over-the-top adventuresome self.

  What he did next surprised even himself, as he turned and nodded affirmatively to Collin Fairbanks’ question.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Downs was seated on a plush leather sofa bordering a huge glass window with a view of the rainforest that only someone without the ability to see would not have been enamored by. Collin had gone off to fetch him some sort of libation, most assuredly water. Downs continued to just sit there, staring and taking in his surroundings. He felt like he was in a portable unit that was decorated far too fancy, trying to be something it was not, made to feel as if one were in a real office building. In the dead center of the room was a desk that most likely would be for a future office secretary, but for now the small area had only a flat screen computer and a chair to accompany it.

  Downs’ stomach had settled and his body was feeling closer to normal than not normal. He was still shocked at the whole height and uneasiness feeling that had crept over him. How in the world could he be feeling a fear of heights? He had never been afraid of heights before, and then, all of a sudden, something like the incident earlier hit him full bore. He wondered if it was just the boardwalk in general that had him feeling jittery and off his game.

  His eyes began to gravitate towards his surroundings once more. The office space, although plain and rather unassuming by its outward appearance, was rather quaint and spectacular on the inside. The sweeping views of the rainforest were provided by several large windows. For a second Downs couldn’t get over the fact that he was in a comfortable office setting, high atop the canopy of an immense rainforest ecosystem. It was all so very surreal.

  Downs stood to his feet and made his way towards the window that was nearly the entire wall length itself. He looked out at the rain-forest, wondering how in the hell someone could even plow and cut a track through the seemingly impenetrable walls and walls of thick vegetation. Even with all the money in the world this seemed almost impossible. The growth was dense, and he knew that space for new plants to grow and compete with the older plants of the forest was at a premium on the forest floor. Jutting up and towering high above the rainforest canopy were huge trees that upon first glance looked like massive eucalyptus trees, but Downs knew better. Taking in these towering behemoths, he shrugged his shoulders knowing that he would most likely learn more about them once the tour began.

  His eyes gravitated towards the hallway to which Collin had retreated and wandered down. In dark bold lettering on the wall printed:

  CORSTINE HOLDINGS, INC.

  Downs smiled to himself, knowing full well the type of financial backing that John Corstine brought to his fanatical pursuit of bringing life to this huge boardwalk endeavor. He knew that Corstine himself had, undoubtedly, brought a large portion of the investment needed to bring the boardwalk to fruition. Yet Downs also knew that Corstine was a shrewd businessman who most likely brought on other investors to fund the building of the boardwalk to its completion. However, the death of the Indonesian worker only a few weeks ago had scared off several of his foreign overseas investors, leaving the creator of the boardwalk scrambling to find other investors to fill in the missing pieces to the puzzle. Most importantly, this lef
t him with an incomplete boardwalk.

  Already his mind was beginning to take it all in, weighing the options as to whether or not this was the type of investment in which his dad would have wanted to participate in. More importantly, would his dad have wanted to and have been patient enough to wait the five years that Corstine said it would take before the boardwalk was indeed profitable and could offer significant returns for its investors.

  Downs’ head focused on his dad. It had been seventeen years since his father had gone missing in a remote part of the world, much like the one Downs found himself in at the current moment. He lowered his head before finally coming back to the present.

  One investor from Australia openly expressed that he simply could not wait the proposed five years for the venture to become profitable, and he backed out rather late in the game. The back out of the Australian investor more than likely created a ripple effect, because following his departure from the project an English investor followed suit, and lastly a Chinese woman in her late twenties living in Hong Kong, worth slightly North of one billion, backed out as well.

  Patience, Downs thought to himself. All good things take time, and any good investor or business man knows this.

  Downs continued to gaze out the window, his thoughts leaving the world of investing and company profitability behind. His eyes took in the outside surroundings. He marveled at how the green landscape before him rippled up and down with differing elevations at different points, stemming from the fact that the trees themselves were all various heights. The never ending blanket of green flowed out in all directions and captured his full attention as he pressed himself up against the glass, just as he used to do back when he was but a wee child at the San Francisco Academy of Sciences.

  “I trust you’re enjoying the view,” Collin suddenly said, interrupting Down’s walk down memory lane.

  Downs spun around to see the assistant walking towards him with a cold drink in hand. Collin promptly handed him an ice cold glass full of what appeared to be Sprite.

  “I trust this will aid in the settling of your stomach,” Collin said.

  “Thanks,” Downs replied and gulped it down in a few aggressive mouthfuls.

  “Walk with me,” Collin said.

  Downs did just that, placing the glass down on the future secretary’s desk and following the assistant down a hallway until the two of them entered a conference room. Collin motioned for him to have a seat, and he sat down in the middle of the long conference table. As Downs waited for Collin to have a seat at the head of the table, he could see what looked like a series of various financial projections on the walls.

  Downs didn’t look too closely, his eyes darting back to Collin as the assistant scooted his chair towards the table, but he knew that they had to be the five year projections about which Corstine had previously mentioned to investors.

  Five years to turn a profit, Downs thought. Dad would still be interested in it despite the length of time.

  “As you may know,” Collin said, “Mr. Corstine has assembled really an exquisite group of investors for this venture. Very nice and wonderfully diverse, if I do say so myself.”

  Downs nodded his head as his eyes darted one last time towards the wall.

  Yep, he thought to himself. The five-year projections.

  “But a venture such as this one,” Collin continued, “needs vast amounts of capital. Capital for when things are going good, and capital for when the monsoon rains drench this part of the world. I trust you catch my drift.”

  “Hence the guided tour this weekend,” Downs said.

  Collin smiled with his hands clasped atop the table. “Precisely. Let me cut straight to the chase Mr. Downs. Your father’s respectable fortune could potentially represent some of the last and final pieces to the investor conundrum currently plaguing Mr. Corstine’s project. Think wisely this weekend as you are on the tour Mr. Downs. Think wisely.”

  Downs didn’t reply, rather he let out an uncomfortable chuckle.

  “Well,” Collin said looking down at his watch. “Time to gather with the others. Your rainforest canopy experience is about to begin.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Downs was escorted out of the conference room and past the financial projections for the boardwalk. The assistant led him out via the hallway through which they entered and politely showed him to the door, before returning back to his own small and cluttered office to handle more of John Corstine’s personal affairs.

  Do you trust him? Downs thought to himself.

  Downs felt as though his gut had already told him the answer, yet he was fighting in an effort to not jump to conclusions so quickly. One thing he did know with certainty was there was something deceiving and deceitful in the eyes of Collin Fairbanks. He couldn’t quite place it, and he hated the idea of rushing to judgment so soon, but there was something in his eyes that had caught Downs’ attention. The thought itself was quickly flushed from his mind as the sight of a small gathering of people could be seen just outside on the boardwalk. Downs exited the building and was instantly greeted with the thick and sweltering air that hit him like a punch to the face. His skin and hair seemed to perspire almost instantaneously, and there was that annoying beard itch again, or at least his brain was busy convincing him so.

  All eyes were on Downs the minute he came into visibility. Calmly though he made his way towards them, being sure not to walk too fast. Rather he stuck his chest out and held his head up high. He did his best walk as if he were striding down the eighteenth fairway of a golf tournament about to close out and defeat the finest professional golfers in the world.

  “The famous Bick Downs,” a cocky and arrogant voice said, though it took Downs a moment before he could put two and two together and put a name to a face. “Did Daddy’s estate send ya on a little overseas excursion to do some potential investment speculation for the old portfolio?”

  The rude comment drew a snicker from the others.

  Downs knew the man, though he had never met him before in his entire life. William Jamison was his name, and Downs had spent the better part of his childhood watching him as he raced up and down the NBA basketball courts for sixteen seasons for the New York Knicks, before eventually old age sent him into retirement.

  Downs looked at the overwhelmingly large man. At the age of fifty, William Jamison was still quite the specimen at 6’9”, 265 pounds. He had arms that made him look like he could still go toe-to-toe with any NBA big man. He was in a type of physical condition those half his age would give their left arm for.

  “Well, all of you are in good hands with Ms. Kingsworth,” Collin interrupted from somewhere behind the group. “But before I go, Mr. Corstine has one simple last request of all of you.”

  Out of his back pocket Collin pulled a black hefty garbage bag and opened it up. Downs cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, wondering what in the hell the assistant was getting at.

  Collin then made his way to the circle with the garbage bag wide open. “If you will. Mr. Corstine has requested that he have your utmost attention out there and that you, therefore, remove yourself literally from the world for the duration of this weekend. Your cooperation would be most appreciated in regards to his wishes.”

  Like little children who had just been caught red-handed with candy and toys and been told to give them back, each member of the group reached into his or her pockets and dropped all iPhone’s, tablets, kindles, and any other worldly connections into the garbage bag. Some even had multiple phones that were dropped inside the bag. As the bag made its way around to Downs, he, too, did the same, pulling his Samsung Galaxy phone out from his back pocket and dropping it into the bag. He never was one to fully buy into the iPhone mass market craze.

  The liberation was almost instantaneous as Downs felt the connection to the technological twenty-first century go straight down to the bottom of that black garbage bag. Although Downs felt a sense of liberation, and to him it was almost an intoxicating, wonderfully
warm spreading feeling that radiated to all parts of his body, he could see that the looks on the faces of the others did not hold the same joy. After all, they had companies to run, stocks and portfolios to check, and income property to manage and oversee.

  Downs too had his own small business, an extreme action sports store located beneath a six unit apartment building that was willed to him upon his father’s disappearance. Although the business had been in a steady state of decline, he had ideas about how to bring it to profitability. In the mean time though, he was somewhat looking forward to the mental break away from the world of cell phones and constant distractions.

  “It’ll do you all some good to get out and disconnect a bit,” a voice said.

  Downs looked up to see a very attractive brunette standing about ten feet or so from the group, dressed in khaki shorts and tan hiking boots. Downs had been so preoccupied by the small gathering of people that he had failed to realize her presence.

  “That’s the spirit, and on behalf of Mr. Corstine, he and I would like to formally welcome you to the Rainforest Canopy Experience,” Collin said as he wrapped the bag up and slung it over his shoulder. With that he made his way, garbage bag and all back to his office.

  “My name is Nat Kingsworth, and I’ll be your weekend guide.”

  Downs’ eyes bulged forward a bit, looking at her. She must have been 5’9” and possibly in her late twenties, with brunette hair and a pistol holstered at her side. Downs was busy pondering the need for the pistol in the first place, when suddenly an elbow nudged him from behind. He turned to see a familiar face, a very familiar face to put it bluntly.