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

by Michael Esola

  A gnawing and growing hunger had been tugging in its stomach for quite some time now. With its jaws slightly agape and possessing a mouth full of sharp serrated teeth, saliva dripped from the opening and onto one of the nearby lower branches. The creature’s mouth opened more, further displaying an arsenal of deadly serrated teeth several inches in length which harbored bits and pieces of stringy decaying meat between them, making for the most foul of smells. It pulled itself back to the original tree via the same way as before.

  Its brain was twisted at the moment into a state of confusion, as it wondered if it should return to feed on its previous kill or focus on this new and intriguing meal, new victims to not only attack, but to track and hunt down. Despite the urge to hunt, it retreated and pulled itself backwards, disappearing out of view and into the dense jungle.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  A lifeless, tanned, leathery brown blob of an object was up ahead as the group carefully moved towards it. Instantly they were overwhelmed with the smell of decaying meat mixed with the unmistakable hint of death.

  “What the hell,” Downs mumbled to himself as the group closed in.

  “No way,” Max called out. “Absolutely no freaking way.”

  Downs could see that it was the upper torso of something, but he couldn’t tell what yet. The smell was absolutely nauseating, and the entire group was forced to pull their shirts over their noses, just to keep their stomachs composed and in check. Surprisingly, everyone except Max did this. He was moving full steam ahead towards the object, breathing in the air almost as if he enjoyed it, like a mad scientist possessed he seemingly floated towards it.

  “Damn psycho,” Downs heard Jamison remark from somewhere close behind.

  Downs thought he was imagining things, that the thick humidity was playing tricks on his fragile and vulnerable mind. It was as if they were all moving towards a mirage, a pristine water source in the middle of a barren desert. His mind took a moment to run through its mental catalog like Google performing an image search, with countless images flashing here and there before one finally stuck out and took hold above all the others.

  Komodo dragon. The thought registered like a bolt of lightening to his head. It sounded so strange and completely out of place, but there it was before him, lying before all of them for that matter.

  “Can you believe this,” Max said with the wide eyed excitement of a child as he bent down to have a better look.

  The beady black eyes of the Komodo dragon stared back at the group from the ground, with a cold almost evil remorse still evident, devoid of all feelings, everything except an ancient and primeval look like it was ripped straight from the age of the dinosaurs.

  “But from where?” Downs asked, spinning around. “And where the hell’s the rest of it?”

  Max reached into his back pocket, pulling out his bright red Swiss Army Knife and opened it up. Carefully, he began plodding around with it in what was left of the severed dragon. Downs bent down as well. The smell was still horrific, and the flies had begun to take notice as they buzzed in and around the crouching humans.

  The Komodo dragon had been ripped in two by something, severed about the midway point as guts and entrails lay splayed out across the boardwalk. The scene looked like a butcher shop gone awry.

  Max continued to prod at it with his knife. Meanwhile Josiah had come up from behind and bent down as well. Downs was just about to reach out and stop Josiah when a large barrel-like figure came in from behind.

  “Out of the way, you pussies,” Jamison demanded as he forced his way between the three and extracted an object with his bare hands, not giving a damn about rhyme or reason, cleanliness, or proper protocols.

  “What the hell,” Jamison said, as he pulled himself upright and to his feet. The object he held in his hands was rather long, blood encrusted, and identifiable.

  Max pulled the object out of Jamison’s hands, to the surprise of the big man who had so rudely and aggressively barged in. “What in God’s name?”

  “What in evolution’s name,” Josiah muttered to himself.

  The tooth was somewhere between two to three inches in length, pyramid shaped, and possessed serrated edges which ran down both sides. It not only looked like an instrument for killing, but one which drew a striking similarity to that of the modern day Great White Shark.

  “Let me see that,” Nat said. Max happily handed the tooth over to her.

  Each member of the group now stood hovering and gazing down at the white object.

  “I’m no scientist,” Jamison remarked, “but that’s an instrument designed for one purpose and one purpose only, killing.”

  No shit, Downs thought to himself.

  This time it was Josiah who grabbed hold of the tooth. He ran his finger over the fine serrations. Over the years Josiah had the opportunity to spend enormous amounts of time at the prep lab on the campus of UC Berkeley. During that time he was fortunate enough to see the teeth of several large predatory dinosaurs. One was of the monstrous and elusive late Jurassic predator Saurophaganax and the other of the famous Tyrannosaurus Rex. Both were equally impressive but what the young doctoral student took away from that encounter was the robustness of the tyrannosaur’s tooth compared to that of the saurophaganax. The tyrannosaur’s tooth was made for crushing bone and inflicting a deadly bite right off the bat, while the tooth of the saurophaganax was meant for biting and slashing at prey.

  Josiah allowed the remembrance of both of those teeth to fully soak in before moving on in his mental images. Suddenly, Josiah’s thoughts went to the catalogue of various extinct prehistoric sharks’ teeth that he had come across in the lab over the years as well, teeth that were meant to tear into prey and bite off large pieces of flesh. He had seen teeth like this before, teeth designed to cut through flesh and bone.

  As Josiah stared down at the tooth, he knew exactly that this was that same type of tooth he had in front of him. It was designed to act like a steak knife. Josiah believed and had already worked out the details in his head. In his hand he held a tooth that was designed solely for the purpose of inflicting massive damage to its unfortunate victims.

  But on land what in the hell could produce such a tooth, he thought to himself, especially this high up? What could produce such a tooth?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Downs slapped at the back of his neck once, then twice, and before he realized it they were totally engulfed in a thick black hovering mass. Biting insects of every kind imaginable flew in from all angles. The black hovering mass had come in, like death itself, inundating the group like a rising tide, and seemingly threatening to engulf everything in its way.

  Downs saw something land on Jamison’s neck and plunge the biting part of it into him as the big man slapped wildly at it, before flicking the thing to the ground, and then stomping down on it with his size sixteen’s.

  All out panic ensued as the dark masses moved in towards the rotting severed carcass. Downs continued to slap every which way as any part of open skin was being threatened with an attack. Mean, nasty things with an equally aggressive nature about them were fluttering and flying about everywhere.

  As Downs ran out and away from the carcass, he noticed that there was a slew of other biting insects mixed in with the flies. Everything was happening so quickly that his mind was having a hard time registering it all. People were running in all directions. No order. No plan whatsoever. Just all out chaos.

  Downs was back peddling, his eyes on the carcass, while he could still see Jamison who was repeatedly being stung. Frederick and Ridley were retreating with him, in the same direction from where Ridley had originally gotten lost, but it looked as though they, too, were being aggressively sought out by the biting insects.

  “Come on,” Nat shouted. “This way.”

  Downs took up chase after her, quickly locating Josiah and Max in the process. All three of them were now running full steam behind the expedition guide. Her foot speed was astonishing and surprised
the rest of them with just how quickly she pulled away from them like a high-performance vehicle. From time to time she looked back, just to make sure they were still there, but for the most part she maintained a considerable distance between them and her.

  Downs slowed his pace just a bit, to allow for Josiah and Max to catch up with him. They had been running hard for a full five minutes when the swarm of insects was finally becoming less and less and things were starting to thin out, until only a few random flies could be seen fluttering about.

  Up ahead Downs could see Nat, pacing back and forth as if she’d just polished off a good half marathon, and was past the finish line waiting to collect first prize money.

  “Where’d you get speed like that?” Downs asked as he came to a stop.

  Despite her blistering speed, she was still breathing hard and took a moment to reply as she put her hands above her head. In between breaths she spoke though, “Ran track at Dartmouth. Not what I used to be but still better than most.”

  Instantly Downs thought two things to himself. The first was that he was impressed she ran collegiate track, and the second was that she attended Dartmouth. Both seemed quite impressive to him to say the least.

  Josiah looked behind him. “I think we’re in the clear.”

  His statement brought Downs back to the present and away from the world of competitive collegiate track filled with its long legged participants. Downs felt around on his body, and surprisingly it appeared as though he had gotten out relatively unscathed, although Nat seemed to have a few bites on the back of her neck and on the back of her hands.

  “What the hell could have dragged a full grown Komodo dragon and dropped it off up here?” Josiah said, scratching at his beard growth that was creeping in more and more each day.

  “Um, I think the more plausible question that needs to be addressed here is what the hell could have ripped a full grown adult Komodo dragon in half like a ragdoll?” Max chimed back. “As well as the question of tossing it up here.”

  “Then that means the other half might still be up in the trees somewhere. Just stowed away like luggage or something,” Downs said. “This is all too weird. Been that way literally since my feet touched down on this damn boardwalk.”

  The others nodded as well, siding with both the confusion and frustration that Downs was exhibiting.

  Nat had wandered a few feet from the group, pondering something as if she had the weight of the world atop her shoulders. Quickly Downs made his way over to her.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” she replied. “Been better though. A few of those nasty buggers got me on the neck.”

  “Do you mind?”

  She shook her head, and Downs made his way behind her. It felt slightly uncomfortable at first as he pulled her brunette hair back and had a look at the bites. They were tiny and looked harmless, but he knew that tiny and harmless in the rainforest could turn into big and deadly very quickly. Rainforests and jungles had that theme about them, often capitalizing on and turning even minor cuts and scrapes into serious issues and infections that needed to be dealt with immediately.

  She dropped her backpack to the ground.

  “What do we have in terms of a medical kit?”

  “Very little,” she replied, not looking up as she rummaged through her bag.

  She did, however, manage to pull out a small white box with a red cross on it. Downs laughed.

  “Wow, is that all we have?”

  Nat looked up and smiled. “Yep. Corstine spares no expense.”

  Downs shook his head in dismay. “You can say that again. Looks like the first aid kit to a kid’s soccer team.”

  Both of them chuckled at the joke. Nat removed a small bottle of rubbing alcohol and poured a bit out onto a tiny cotton swab that she had retrieved from the kit.

  “Would you mind?” she asked.

  “It’d be my pleasure,” Downs said with a grin.

  Downs rubbed the cotton swab with the alcohol on it over the small bites, working on her neck before finally dabbing at the back of both of her hands.

  “That should just about do it,” he said.

  Nat was about to put the kit back in her bag when Max and Josiah appeared with outstretched hands of their own. They had bites on them as well and wanted the same attention. She handed them the small medical kit.

  “You boys are on your own,” Downs joked, as they skirted off to address their medical needs. He pushed in closer to Nat.

  “What are we going to do about Jamison’s crew?” Downs asked.

  Nat finished rearranging things in her bag before finally standing to her feet. She slung the backpack over her shoulders. “Thanks for the medical attention.”

  Downs smiled. “Anytime.”

  Nat looked up at the sky for a brief moment and then put her headset back on. “Do you guys read me? Over.”

  There was a long silence that lasted for a minute or so.

  Nat spoke over the radio once more. “Are you guys out there? Do you read me? Even if you’re deciding to go at it alone, at least give us a thumbs up via the radio that you’re okay.”

  Another minute passed as Nat shook her head in frustration and pulled the headset off, wiring it so it was intertwined in the loops of her backpack, just in case there was a transmission back. However, she knew wholeheartedly that they had lost communication with them.

  “Jamison and the others will be fine,” she said. “That’s what they wanted all along, so I guess they got their wish.”

  Max and Josiah had come over to where the two were standing.

  “We’ve got big problems,” Max said.

  “We’re going to continue with the tour as planned,” Nat fired back. “This tour needs to be completed. Seemed doomed since the start, but I refuse to let that happen. We will continue on, even if it’s with only one potential investor.”

  Max shook his head in defiance. It wasn’t until he was a considerable distance closer that it was clear to the others.

  In his right hand, Max Caldwell was holding an eyeball.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Now what,” Frederick announced as he swatted at the last of the flies that were still in hot pursuit, almost defiantly fighting on long after the rest of their biting comrades had abandoned ship and called it a day.

  “Well,” Jamison said. “For one thing, we’re out of the loser pack and off on our own, which is a good thing.”

  Frederick chuckled. “But seriously though, now what?”

  Ridley looked at Jamison for a reply.

  “You guys want me to do all the thinkin’,” Jamison said. “Well, I say now we can have a good look at this boardwalk thing, on our own, free and clear of outside opinions.”

  “Sounds like a damn fine plan,” Frederick replied, rubbing at the smattering of bites he had acquired.

  Jamison smiled. “Okay then. We investigate and explore the hell outta this place, and then get the hell outta here. Maybe even earlier than expected. I’m sure you two have other things to do. As for me I’ve got my growing empire back home which needs my attention.”

  Jamison turned around towards them one last time. “Oh, and one more thing. By investigate I don’t mean turn over every board of this thirty-five mile track. That would be foolish and idiotic. Auditors don’t go over every transaction, rather they choose a few random samples and go from there. We will do the same here. Investigate the hell outta this little wing on which we find ourselves and draw much bigger conclusions from this one random sample point. Ya’ll dig that?”

  Frederick and Ridley both looked at one another and nodded. Then something caught Frederick’s eye, and he wandered past Jamison and towards the railing part of the boardwalk.

  “What the hell,” Frederick muttered to himself.

  Stuck in part of the railing in the most rudimentary of fashions was a small sign that read: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT.

  “Guys, come here and look at this,” Frederi
ck yelled.

  Jamison and Ridley followed suit.

  “Saw this sign earlier,” Ridley said.

  Jamison turned and looked at the television mogul.

  Ridley nodded. “This is where I wandered off to.”

  “And?” Jamison inquired. “Did you check this part out?”

  Ridley shook his head. “Not much. Just needed to piss real bad. Heard some strange noises and then decided to hightail it back.”

  Jamison laughed sarcastically. “Well, that was useless. All the more reason to see this section now closely with our own eyes, fellas.”

  Meanwhile, Frederick pulled the metal sign out of the railing. “What gives?”

  Jamison was thinking, processing all of the information that was being given to him at the moment. “Seems Corstine’s been up to other things. Authorized personnel type of things. Things he probably doesn’t want us knowing about.”

  “But what though?” Frederick replied. “Maybe this is just some random maintenance sign. All attractions need and have maintenance roads.”

  Jamison gave him a rank look. “Don’t think so. You don’t get to Corstine’s financial status without a little foul play every now and then. I’m sure you fellas know all about foul play with your respected businesses.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Frederick said with a big smile. “There was this one time-“

  Jamison cut him off midsentence. “Let’s keep focused, fellas. We can get into corporate shenanigans later, once the due diligence part of this weekend is over.”

  Jamison motioned with his hand for them to continue on. They did just that.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Downs stumbled like a drunk towards Max’s open outstretched hand. The detached eyeball stared ominously up at him, stared ominously at all of them for that matter.

  “Is that human?” Josiah muttered.

  “I-I-I believe so,” Max stuttered back.