Lost World Of Patagonia

by Dane Hatchell

  He remembered a time, back in his college days, he and a group of friends had hiked through the everglades. Matt rounded a tree and surprised an armadillo. The armored mammal screeched and flew into the air what seemed like three feet, as if propelled by a spring. Matt had screamed too, just as startled. Unfortunately, one of his buddies was close enough to witness his freak out. And, of course, his friends harassed him over it the rest of the trip and a long time afterward.

  The group had come to a halt while Chief looked at data on his satellite phone. During the whole trip, everyone had stayed not much more than an arm’s length apart. Except for, as he had predicted, Natasha and Alex. The overt public displays of affection between them had rage boiling inside. Did Natasha know Alex killed Susan? Was she in on it too? An even worse thought, was it Natasha’s idea?

  A pterosaur in a nearby tree flapped its wing, grunted a caw of sorts, and flew away. Watching a winged lizard take flight was marvelous to witness. Matt brought his video camera up and filmed what he could before the creature became lost in the treetops.

  The satellite phone on Matt’s belt buzzed. He retrieved it, and answered, “Hey.”

  “Hey,” Ben said. “Any action out there?”

  “Not so far—except for the creek. There’re crocs in the water, so we have to keep a little bit of a distance. The one I saw must have been over thirty feet long.”

  “That’s a lot of boots,” Ben said, and chuckled. “So, what are y’all going to do now?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe we’ll take another path back to the Warthog and hopefully see something else. Chief’s playing with his phone. Maybe he’s plotting a course.”

  “Okay, I’ll let you go. I call back in an hour if I don’t hear from you. Bye,” Ben said.

  “See you.” Matt ended the call.

  “Alex, can you step over here? You can see the screen better in the shade,” Chief said, his gaze turned toward his phone.

  The professor complied with Natasha glued to his hip.

  Before the couple reached Chief, Meat called out, “Natasha, come see.”

  Matt looked over and saw Meat, Ron, Caveman, and Logan about twenty feet away. They had found something, but why Meat had only called Natasha over was a bit of a mystery.

  “I want to go over our next plan of action,” Chief said as Alex reached his side. “Matt, you want to come over?”

  “Sure,” Matt said, feeling a bit honored that Chief included him in the hierarchy of decision-making.

  “Look at the size of that flower!” Natasha said.

  Matt and the two men beside him turned gazes toward Meat and Caveman, who had pulled some foliage aside, exposing a huge red and pink flower. The bloom looked as big as Natasha’s head.

  “Come stand next to it. I want to take your picture,” Meat said to Natasha.

  “Okay,” Chief continued. “We can—”

  Another pterosaur flapped its wings in a nearby tree and flew off uttering an ear-piercing shriek.

  “Damn, that was loud,” Matt said, and cast his gaze around. Something about the situation didn’t feel right.

  Chief looked up from his phone, narrowing his eyes has he looked curiously about. A few moments passed, and he continued, “So, the waterfall is about a half mile north. I had originally planned to move the Warthog closer before venturing that far away. But since things are pretty dead around here, I don’t have any problem with going the distance today. Thoughts?”

  Before he or Alex had a chance to answer, the air filled with cries of various species of pterosaurs. Similar to a flock of birds fleeing in mass exodus, the winged lizards took flight.

  Everyone in the group had frozen in position, only their heads turning to watch the startled reptiles.

  Chief put his phone away and slowly removed his rifle off his shoulder. “I don’t like this,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear.

  Matt didn’t like it, either. All of a sudden it was as though the breeze had stopped and the air had become more humid. It was probably all in his imagination, but something inside, maybe something primordial, raised the hair on the back of his neck.

  There was some rustling on the ground coming from the east.

  Chief raised his left hand and pointed. The other Redwater members moved their rifles to the ready.

  Then Matt heard something. It almost sounded like a mixture of a growl and a purr.

  Two theropods, both slightly larger than men, sprang from around brush, and dashed straight for the middle of the group.

  These creatures had hunger in their eyes and sharp talons on the end of their claws. They were greenish yellow in color, with the bellies several shades lighter than the rest. The head reminded Matt of a cross between an ostrich and a lizard. They had rows of pointed teeth and jaws that looked like they could bend steel.

  “Take ’em down!” Chief ordered.

  The JNY-7s rattled out ordnance, striking the attacking creatures, and blowing chunks of flesh into the air on impact.

  “Troodons!” Alex yelled. “Look, there’s more!”

  Several others sprang out and headed straight for them. The rifles had slowed both of the original attackers which fought to keep moving forward in the barrage of bullets. They were probably dead but didn’t know it. Getting a headshot to immediately drop them seemed almost impossible.

  By this time Matt and Alex had their .45s out and had squeezed off a few rounds of their own. There was no way to know if either had found the target.

  The lead Troodons hit the ground not ten feet from Matt. Some of the others had slowed their advance a bit, while a contingency of six continued the Blitzkrieg.

  “They’re trying to split the group!” Chief called.

  Matt realized Chief was right. The Troodons were attempting to wedge between him, Alex, and Chief—cutting the three of them off from the group. They were being hunted just like the Velociraptors hunted the Triceratops—trimming a few from the herd.

  “I’m out of bullets!” Alex cried.

  Matt’s slide racked back and remained open. He was out of ammo too. They both had spare magazines on their belts, but Matt didn’t see the use in reloading, and Alex must have forgotten in the panic.

  The rifles brought down more of the Troodons, but those in waiting weren’t scared off and continued to advance.

  By this time one or more of the Redwater crew had launched a few grenades, blasting Troodons parts about the area. How many were in this herd? Matt didn’t know, but it was too damn many.

  “You two, get up that tree! Now!” Chief commanded, and then dropped to his knee to pull the magazine for his rifle from his backpack.

  Matt didn’t hesitate and ran to the nearest tree. The branches were low enough for him to get a firm handhold, and adrenalin had him climbing faster than he humanly thought possible.

  Alex followed, but not quite with the speed that Matt had. The professor even cried out in pain as he pulled himself up. Aging muscles worked against the older man.

  Once out of harm’s way, Alex stood on a branch and leaned over as if trying to see past the leaves. “Natasha! Natasha!”

  Chief had his rifle reloaded. He was on one knee and fired away. More grenades exploded, and Matt saw Chief launch his side rocket. It whistled a short distance before blowing a Troodon in half.

  “Natasha! Natasha!” Alex cried out.

  Son-of-a-bitch . . . motherfucking scum . . . murderer! Matt thought, feeling the rage rise into his face.

  A wounded Troodon fell onto Chief, its deadly jaws clamping down on the poor man’s head. Chief screamed for what seemed like a very long time. Other Troodons joined in the feast, biting arms and legs, ripping them from the torso. Some Troodons fought among themselves, playing a tug-of-war with body parts.

  “Natasha! Natasha!” Alex droned on. He was on a branch below Matt, with his back turned.

  Matt’s eyes narrowed, and his upper lip raised showing teeth. Holding firmly to the branch, he lifted his right leg, and
planted his foot square in the small of Alex’s back.

  The professor’s grip slipped, and with a cry of surprise, he fell head first to the ground.

  Three Troodons dashed over and began to eat the professor.

  Chapter 18

  Rifles spat muffled pops, grenades exploded sending Troodons’ flesh and gore flying. Alex, Matt, and Chief had been isolated from the rest of the group. Natasha watched from behind Meat’s large frame, too scared to pull out her own weapon.

  The three Redwater crew stood side by side firing away. Logan joined in, had already emptied one magazine, and was deep into the other.

  Natasha didn’t know how many Troodons had been killed, or how many were left alive, for that matter.

  Chief had yelled something, but she couldn’t hear what. She did see Matt run to a tree and start climbing. Alex quickly followed, and both made it to safety.

  At least she didn’t need to worry about Alex right now. She looked around and didn’t see any trees close by with branches low enough for her to reach.

  “Them son-of-a-bitches keep coming!” Caveman said.

  That was news Natasha didn’t want to hear.

  “Roll Tide, motherfucker!” Ron yelled, and launched a rocket. “Roll fucking Tide!”

  The rocket’s boom was quickly followed by the explosion of another rocket. Natasha had no idea how much ammo the Redwater’s had used, she only hoped and prayed it would be enough.

  Chief screamed. Natasha’s knees threatened to turn to water. She tried to look but couldn’t see past the line of men. There was no doubt the Troodons had the brave man in their deadly claws.

  Alex steadily called her name. She could see the outline of his body in the tree but doubted he could see her. Poor Alex, he was probably worried sick about her. Natasha stepped a little to the side, raised her arm, and waved her hand.

  Still, Alex called, that same apprehension in his tone that indicated he didn’t see her.

  And then she saw Alex fall from the tree, his cry brief before he smashed to the ground.

  “Alex!” Natasha screamed, and darted past Logan toward her lover.

  “Natasha!” Logan dropped his empty pistol and grabbed onto her arm. “Are you nuts? Get back here.” He pulled her behind the line of mercenaries.

  “Alex! Alex!” Natasha continued, and crumpled to the ground.

  The professor wailed as the Troodons divided up his body parts.

  “We got to pull back. There’s still too many. We need to find a cave—something we can hide in and defend,” Meat said.

  “I’m going to hold them off. Y’all head on out,” Caveman said, and then launched a grenade.

  “Let’s, go!” Logan grabbed Natasha by the hand.

  She struggled to her feet, tears streaming down her face, and felt Logan pulling her along.

  “Faster,” Logan said.

  “I’m trying.” Natasha’s head buzzed, shock had her not thinking straight. None of this seemed worth it. She wanted just to give up and die.

  “Hold my rifle.” Meat thrust his JNY-7 into Logan’s other hand, grabbed Natasha by the waist, and threw her over his shoulder. “Let’s go!”

  Natasha watched Caveman run past Ron and follow them. Ron now took point and provided cover fire while they escaped. She imagined this was a designed maneuver they had learned from military experience.

  These men were risking their lives to save her and Logan. They could have very well used them for bait while they escaped. That thought somehow sparked her will to live.

  “Put me down. I’m okay. I can run,” she said to Meat.

  The big Samoan barreled around trees and past brush, and in midstride, pulled her off his shoulder and planted her feet on the ground. He reached back and took his rifle from Logan. “Go, go, go!”

  Caveman ran toward Meat, who took a defensive stand. “I’ve got point.”

  At that time, Ron’s rifle went silent, and his death cry chilled the air.

  Natasha turned back and saw Meat give Caveman a hand signal to leave. The big man then backpedaled in a slow trot, keeping his rifle up and ready to fire.

  Caveman couldn’t have beaten her or Logan in a footrace, but the man moved at a decent clip.

  “Hear that?” Logan asked.

  The dull roar she had heard in the background didn’t register until now.

  “It’s the waterfall. Let’s head toward the water,” Logan said.

  “What about crocodiles?” Natasha asked.

  Logan frowned and shook his head.

  Yeah, they would worry about that if it came down to it. The only goal now was staying alive long enough to have a chance.

  Meat’s rifle popped off more rounds, and then a grenade exploded. After that, nothing.

  The sound of the waterfall grew louder by the minute. The brushy area opened to a clearing leading to where she thought the water should be. Soon, the waterfall came into view, and they had arrived right where the creek spilled down tens of feet into a river below it. The earth ended at the river’s edge. They essentially were on a cliff, maybe some 50 or 60 feet above the river. They could continue heading north along the edge, but if there were more Troodons than ammo left, traveling that way would do no good. She didn’t know if they could survive the jump.

  Natasha turned and saw Meat running toward them. Caveman had stopped 30 yards away and put a new magazine in his rifle. Meat was just about to him.

  “I think I got ’em all,” Meat called.

  “Thank goodness,” Natasha said.

  “Yeah, I didn’t want to jump down into that swirly mess,” Logan said.

  About that time Caveman lifted his rifle and began firing.

  Meat looked behind him, but kept on running. “Oh shit. Caveman, come on, man.”

  “I’m right behind you,” Caveman said. “Die, you bastards. Die!”

  Meat turned and fired. His rifle cranked out two shots before something went wrong. “It’s jammed!”

  “Go on, get!” Caveman said while blasting away.

  Meat climbed the gentle incline until he reached Natasha and Logan. He looked over the cliff’s edge and crinkled his nose.

  Caveman’s rifle went silent. Four Troodons had surrounded him, and one had its mouth on his throat.

  “Poor bastard,” Meat said.

  For the first time Natasha saw Meat’s perpetual smile melt into sadness.

  “We’re next,” Logan said.

  “Can those things swim?” Meat asked.

  “Yes, I’m pretty sure they can,” Logan said.

  Meat grunted. “Well then, let’s hope they can’t dive.”

  “But we don’t know how deep it is. What if there’re rocks?”

  “I’ll let you know.” The big man turned and bounded off the edge of the cliff, holding his arms tightly around his rifle.

  The two rushed to the edge and saw Meat hit the water, and then disappear from the surface.

  “Clint. Oh, Clint,” Natasha fretted. She just knew the worst had happened. What were the chances of the river being deep enough so close to the edge? She doubted there would be any crocodiles where the waterfall fell, but didn’t know what other deadly unknowns might lurk about.

  A head popped to the surface, followed by an arm steadily waving.

  “He’s okay!” Logan said. “You first, and then me.”

  Natasha looked over and saw the bloody mess of what was left of Caveman’s body. It reminded her of a particularly gory dummy at a haunted house she’d seen. The carnivores had eaten so much it was indistinguishable from a human body and looked more like a slab of meat that would hang from a hook at a slaughterhouse.

  One of the Troodons looked over at them and began his death stalk.

  She turned to Logan, took a deep breath, and ran over the edge.

  Natasha had jumped off the side of a cliff one time before during Spring Break, on a trip to Jamaica. She and her friends had paid a visit to the famous Rick’s Café. Of course, she had downed eno
ugh rum to give her all the courage she needed to plunge 35 feet into the clear blue waters of the Gulf. Her stomach reached up to her throat then just as it did now, and her sphincter trembled a bit. When she splashed into the water then, she plunged so deep that her ears hurt from water pressure. Beyond that, the only negative thing she felt was the sting of impact on the soles of her feet. Oh, to be so lucky this time.

  Her body hit the water, and she felt tiny needles prick all over her skin. This fall had definitely been longer than the Jamaica jump. Almost twice as long. As soon as she hit, she spread her legs, and poked out her arms. She didn’t know how deep it was but wanted to do her best not to find out.

  She came to the surface in time see Logan bail off the side and make his big splash. She turned her head and saw Meat about 30 yards away making a slow trek to the narrow bank that butted against the cliff’s side.

  Logan popped to the surface and lifted a thumb-up to indicate he was okay.

  By some miracle, they had made it this far. She looked up to the cliff’s edge, and at first thought she saw a Troodon staring down. It was only her imagination. Then her mind turned to Alex, and she remembered Chief’s scream and Caveman’s bloody body. Natasha shook the thoughts from her mind and made the swim toward Meat.

  The big guy waited by the bank, with a hand out to help her. She reached up and felt his gentle grip, and she pulled herself out. “Thanks. That was some jump.”

  “The only time I’ve jumped that far before I had on a parachute,” Meat said.

  “You noticed how the river got shallower the farther away we went from the waterfall?” she said.

  “Yeah. That’s probably the only thing that saved us. The waterfall has eroded the river at that point. Had we jumped off a little ways from where we did, well, it wouldn’t have been good,” Meat said, and then grabbed onto Logan’s hand as he swam up.

  “Thanks,” Logan said, and rubbed his back. “Could have landed better.”

  “Yeah, I bet my backside’s redder than a baboon’s ass,” Meat said.