Lost World II: Savage Patagonia

by Dane Hatchell

  He turned and saw Susan splayed on the jungle ground, a Troodon stood above her with its mouth clamped tightly around her neck. Without thinking, he stopped and fired his rifle.

  The bullets exploded, scaring the predator away from its prey, but now the dinosaur came for him.

  Caveman bounded past him, and said, “I got this. Go!” He fired his rifle until the Troodon dropped.

  Just before Coop turned to run, he saw other Troodons in fast pursuit. “They’re coming! Run!”

  Seconds later grenades went off behind him. Caveman continued firing his rifle in short bursts and then sped on to catch the group.

  A theropod with yellow-orange skin and stripes like a tiger attacked the group head on. It was several feet taller than a man and longer than a passenger van. The dinosaur had a single horn at the end of its snout.

  Suge’s chest met the full brunt of its charge—his body seemed to fold around the dinosaur’s head, and the horn poked out from the center of Suge’s back.

  Bats let his RPG fly, striking the theropod on its left side. Blood and meat splattered on him and Natasha.

  Now leading the group, apparently believing his missile had incapacitated the beast, Bats veered his path and ordered all to follow.

  Caveman let another grenade go.

  Coop looked back and saw a least a half dozen Troodons coming in for the kill.

  “The river! It’s just up ahead!” Bats called.

  “John, hurry!” Coop yelled. The Troodons quickly filled the space between them and the rotund warrior.

  Bats ran past Coop, and commanded, “Get to the river! Don’t wait for us!”

  Coop surprised himself by acting without delay. Normally his conscious would have him torn between saving himself or risking his life for others. He realized he didn’t have what it took now to win the fight. Caveman had said it before, that animals knew only two things: fight or flight. Age had wormed its way into his body and mind—weakening him from a predator of fight to prey of flight.

  The river was a short distance ahead. Alex had reached the edge and scanned up and down the slow flowing water.

  Caveman yelled. It was his death call. The mighty warrior had met the enemy, and the enemy had won.

  Alex waited with his hand out as Natasha watched her step as she traveled down the river’s bank toward him.

  “Swim for it. I’m right behind you,” Coop hollered.

  Bats’ final cry cut through the air moments before what sounded like two grenades going off. Apparently the man fought to the death—waiting at the last moment to achieve the maximum kill.

  Alex’s rifle and two backpacks were by the shore. Coop tossed his JNY-7 aside and let his backpack fall off his shoulder. He tromped through the water until it came over his knees, and then began the swim. The other side was at least sixty feet away.

  The last two survivors were a few yards ahead. Both appeared to struggle; no doubt fatigue had set in, and no one had taken the time to shed their boots.

  Coop’s hadn’t given two thoughts of the dangers that might lurk in the water until now. They were nearly to the halfway point, and he had no clue how deep the river was. At least he hadn’t seen any logs floating their way, remembering the huge crocodile the drone had taken video of.

  Then, a theropod by the river’s edge caught his gaze. It looked like it had four legs, but the front legs were shorter than what he thought legs should be. Its head was uniquely crest-shaped, and if Coop weren’t swimming for his life, he would have loved to stop and take in the magnificent sight. As long as the creature remained where it was, it wouldn’t pose a problem.

  Right after that thought, Coop heard the survivors of the Troodon clan arrive by the river. Snarls and hisses were followed by splishes and splashes. The race was on.

  The shore quickly approached. Coop saw Alex had made it where it was shallow enough to stand and trod through the water. The Professor stopped and waited for Natasha to arrive.

  At this point Coop wished he had spent extra days at the gym. His arms started to feel like lead weights, and his chest muscles tightened and screamed with pain. But at least he was getting closer—almost there. His hand hit the muddy bottom, and he traveled a few more feet before planting a foot down and slogging his way to shore.

  He turned and counted four Troodon heads speeding toward him like periscopes cutting above water. Dinosaur bodies seemed just as adept traveling under water as land.

  Alex waited with his hand out, despite Coop motioning for the two to leave without him. He took the Professor’s hand and stepped to dry land. Fortunately, the crest-headed dinosaur was content to watch from a distance, no doubt just as fearful of the four Troodons as he.

  Climbing the bank took more time than Coop would have liked. At least the land on the other side was relatively flat. He looked around; if any trees had branches low enough for them to reach, they would take refuge and call the Warthog for help. The tall trees offered no hope, with the lowest branches well beyond any human’s reach.

  It was fight or flight. With bare hands as the only weapons, fight was out of the question.

  Coop heaved for air, and so did Natasha and Alex. The two former lovers ran with panic-numbed expressions, fear frozen in their eyes. Coop imagined his face showed the same.

  How long could he keep up this pace? His lungs burned, his breathing almost out of sync to where he swallowed air at times.

  Coop heard clawed feet in pursuit pounding the ground behind him. He turned and saw the closest Troodon a few yards away—gaining fast.

  Trees and foliage flew by, but there was no open area as far as he could see. No Warthog with its mighty gun ready to blast the dinosaurs to kingdom come. No mercenaries armed to the teeth ready to do battle to the death.

  The nearest Troodon hissed. It sounded like it was so close it whispered in his ear. There was victory in its cry. It knew it would only be a matter of seconds before it had Coop and the two other tasty meat-bags to feast upon.

  Coop’s mind flashed back as the Spinosaurus ate him alive on his first death; how the other theropod he fought so valiantly crushed him to death with its jaws and teeth. He was about to be devoured by creatures of smaller stature. They would incapacitate him, hold him on the ground, pull flesh from bone one bite at a time, perhaps savoring the meal more as he screamed in pain, and begged for death to take him away a final time.

  His foot hit uneven ground. Coop fell face-forward to the earth. “Run!” he screamed.

  The Troodon yelped in delight.

  Coop flipped to his back and saw his executioner loom over him. It brought its three clawed hands up in wicked delight, reared its head back on its long neck, and before it plugged down for the kill, its three companions arrived by its side—ready to share the spoils.

  Machine guns rattled behind him.

  Holes punched in the pale-white of the Troodons’ chests and deep crimson poured out.

  Reptilian screams interlaced with the bark of multiple rifles. Coop flipped over on his stomach and crawled away.

  Six soldiers clad in black had emerged from around the trees. Their rifles spat fire and mercilessly slung lead into the hungry theropods.

  Alex waited with Natasha, his arms loosely around her as she stood with her hands up to her mouth.

  The moment reminded Coop of basic training—crawling on his belly while live ammo flew overhead. During the Vietnam war, it was said that an unusually large number of inductees caught in the draft died during this exercise. The Asian war had a terrifying reputation. Suicide was a quick ticket out. All one had to do was raise his head and catch a bullet that would send him home forever.

  Today was nothing like days past. This wall of fire was his salvation—a gift he would not squander.

  By the time Coop passed the last soldier and stood, the guns went silent. He turned and saw the four Troodons had succumbed to the barrage of bullets and had literally died on top of each other. The machine guns had fired conventional bullets a
nd had no problem in killing the dinosaurs. This reminded Coop of the devastating power of any fire arm and how only those trained how to use them should be allowed to own one.

  “Senhor, Cooper. I am Captain Diaz,” Diaz said. The man was the only one of the six who wore a red beret instead of black. “Are you injured?”

  Coop leaned over a bit with his hands on his knees—trying to catch his breath. After a moment, he shook his head, and said, “I’m fine…I’m fine.”

  Diaz turned his gaze over to Alex and Natasha.

  “We’re good,” Alex said.

  “The others?”

  Standing upright, and leaning his head back with his eyes closed, Coop said, “They didn’t make it.”

  “I am sorry, Senhor Cooper,” Diaz said.

  “Yeah, we’re sorry too. They were good men. Really good men. You know what I mean, Captain Diaz, don’t you? They were the kind of men who thought of the mission and the safety of others over their own well-being. They used fear as a platform to rise above the situation and do things beyond the ability of most mortals. They were good men, and now they’re gone.”

  Diaz gazed intently at Coop. “I do indeed know of such men. I regret I never had the chance to meet them before their final reward. Your three friends have told us stories of the great men of the Redwater team on the trip here.”

  “The Warthog, where is it?” Alex asked.

  “Three kilos from here,” Diaz said.

  “I can’t believe we made it,” Natasha said. “How did you know where to find us?”

  “The beacon on Senhor Cooper’s phone mapped your location. We brought the Warthog in as close as possible and hurried to assist.”

  “If you had been one minute later…well you weren’t. I guess…I guess we were just lucky that way,” Coop said, again his mind fought to find order in the universe outside of random chance.

  “Senhor Cooper, Senhor Henry Lear gave me two sets of orders on this mission…to bring back the survivors and the diamonds. Do you have the diamonds?” Diaz asked, his tone dry and business like.

  Coop chuckled to himself. The man leading the mission who saved his life now reached out to poke his last nerve. But he was just too exhausted to give a fuck anymore. He reached in a side pocket on his thigh and unbuttoned the flap. His hand brought out the leather pouch containing the priceless jewels. “Here you go, Captain Diaz.” Coop tossed the pouch over to the leader, who caught it and brought it to his gaze for examination. “I never want to see these goddam things ever again.”

  Chapter 18

  “Look! They’re coming,” Matt said. He, Logan, and Ben had their gazes glued to the camera waiting for Alex, Natasha, Coop, and the mercenaries to return.

  “There’s the Professor…Hot damn! Wow, he looks like shit,” Ben said, the corners of his mouth stretching toward his ears.

  “Natasha,” Matt said, his tone showing relief.

  “Natasha,” Logan said, apprehensively.

  Matt sensed something had gone on between Logan and Natasha before her death. He never confronted Logan about it, and now wasn’t the time to ask questions either. “What are we waiting for?” He turned and headed for the door.

  As Matt stepped down on the Warthog’s track and then descended the ladder, his mind swirled with all the scenarios he had considered if he ever got the chance of meeting Alex again. Any prepackaged apology went out the window. Emotion took over, and he ran toward his good friend. “Alex! Natasha!”

  Alex’s and Natasha’s haggard, dirt-smudged faces beamed with delight as Matt reached out and hugged them both. “I’m so glad…I’m so glad…” And that was it, he broke down. Tears streamed down his face, and he couldn’t find his voice.

  Logan stepped up and put his arms around Natasha and Matt. He began crying a waterfall.

  Ben was on his crutches and was standing on the tracks. “Professor! Natasha! Yee-hah!” He raised one crutch in the air for victory.

  Natasha and Alex waved to Ben.

  Matt gained his composure, he let go of Natasha, and still in his embrace with Alex, he whispered in his ear, “There’s something we need to talk about.”

  “Matt, whatever happened in the past doesn’t matter,” Alex said.

  “No, that’s not it. Susan didn’t make it. Lear said—”

  Lightning cracked above, and thunder rumbled like it announced Armageddon. A huge spiral of smoke churned like a slow moving pinwheel to the side of the Warthog, several yards away. Blue, green, and red ethereal lights flashed in the vortex.

  Several of the Brazilians’ screamed out Meu Deus and brought their weapons to the ready.

  “Is that the time pool I read about in the report?” Diaz asked.

  “It is,” Coop said. “Look! Someone’s coming out.”

  “It’s not human,” Diaz said.

  A figure stepped from the spinning vortex—clearly a few feet taller than a normal man. It had an elongated head, which was bulbous on the crown. Its eyes were small and almond-shaped, above a nose that barely poked out over thin lips. A blue one-piece garment with a flared collar covered its body.

  “What the hell…” Matt said.

  Alex’s hair was a wiry mess piled on top of his head. The exhaustion had him looking a bit punch-drunk. He lifted his eyebrows, spread his hands out in front of him a foot or so apart, and with a shit-eating smile on his face, said, “I’m not saying it’s aliens, but…it’s aliens.”

  Coop looked over at the Professor as if he were about to say something, but put himself in check.

  “What does it want?” Diaz said.

  “I don’t know. It reminds me of a character from a Twilight Zone episode. The alien had a book with him titled To Serve Man,” Alex said.

  “That sounds promising,” Coop said.

  “No, not really. Turns out it was a cookbook,” Alex said.

  “Oh…” Coop took a step back.

  The alien moved away from the mouth of the vortex. Ron and Don Bartel were the first to emerge. Both were fully dressed in freshly pressed fatigues. Every hair, what little was left, was neatly in place. “Roll Tide!” they said together as they ran toward Matt and the others.

  Meat and Caveman followed, and then Bats and Suge. Chief and Susan were out next, and finally Will and Gerald exited the time pool.

  The excitement of the returning members overshadowed the fact that an alien was standing not far from them. Slaps, hugs, giggles, and Roll Tide repeated by Suge, Ron, and Don occupied the group for several moments. Eventually everyone quieted down. Matt, Coop, and Alex stepped forward.

  “Who are you?” Coop asked.

  As opening questions to another life form go, Matt thought it was as an intelligent request as any.

  The alien didn’t open his mouth, but his words were clear—as if he spoke them directly in the ear, “Who I am is none of your concern. Though as you can see, I am not of this world.”

  “See, aliens,” Alex said smugly.

  The alien held a façade of indifference. He gave no indication he had the least bit of curiosity concerning humans.

  “You are responsible for all of this?” Coop spread one hand away from him. “Patagonia? The dinosaurs living here well past their extinction over the rest of the Earth?”

  “The answer is obvious,” the alien said, his words frosty.

  Coop started, “I…I’m sorry. I don’t—”

  “You’re an alien. We don’t mean to offend you. We want to establish communication and learn of your race,” Alex said.

  “It is not beneficial for my race to have ties with humans,” the alien said.

  “Will you at least tell us something? Where you’re from? How old your race is? Why you’re here now?” Matt asked.

  “It serves no purpose for you to know my history. However, I am here because the Earth is a rare jewel even amongst the millions of planets in the galaxy that support life. It is our purpose to ensure that the Earth abides, despite its care by humans,” the alien said.
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br />   Coop cast a wary eye toward Alex, and then asked, “Why did you preserve the dinosaurs?”

  “Consider the dinosaurs as gifts. Gifts to humanity. Gifts to the Earth,” the alien said.

  “You have the power over time. You know everything. The end of all beginnings,” Alex said, amazement in his tone.

  “Very well put,” the alien said.

  “But this—all that you’ve gone through to save prehistoric life, all that we’ve gone through—dying and coming back again. Why? Why is it so important, and why now?” Coop asked.

  “Humanity is at a crossroads. Now is the time for the world to marvel at evolution’s greatest creations. Your scientists will study the ancient creatures and learn many things, including the destiny of mankind itself,” the alien said.

  “That’s a vague answer,” Coop said. “There has to be more.”

  The alien made no attempt to respond.

  “You manipulated all of us—brought us here to find the dinosaurs so we can bring them back. Kept bringing us back to life so we could finish the mission. The way you did it…it could have been planned better. Why? Why did we have to go through all those horrible deaths? There had to be an easier way!” Alex said, anger rising in his voice.

  “You are in no position to question,” the alien said.

  Alex raised his hands. “Okay, okay…I don’t mean to try your patience. Please just tell me one thing…” He closed his eyes, and then opened them, and said, “I…I did something horrible—something I thought I would never do. I killed my wife. Those thoughts—I don’t know where those thoughts came from. I can’t even believe I was capable of carrying them out. You can manipulate time. Did you motivate me in some way that altered my thinking and led me to kill Susan?”

  “And me, too, with Alex?” Matt asked.

  Logan stepped by Matt’s side, his body tense in anticipation.

  “Time waves preserving Patagonia are an exotic band of electromagnetic radiation, which can impose negative effects on organic matter. Aberrations to the human psyche are a possibility and could give rise to irrational behavior. Search your hearts. Let your conscience judge your actions,” the alien said.