The Island In The Mist: A Dinosaur Thriller Page 3

  Puerto Rico, Spring of 1985

  Angus Wedgeworth slapped the back of his neck in a desperate attempt to rid himself of some sort of biting insect that would not go away. He wiped the remains of the crushed insect on his pant leg. He was dressed in a very expensive grey suit, but since he owned nearly a hundred suits, (many of them also grey), soiling this particular one mattered very little to him. Suits, much like every other thing he owned, could be easily replaced. Angus was a self-made millionaire and he savored every minute of it. However, the minutes, unfortunately, were beginning to wind down.

  Having recently celebrated his seventy-fourth birthday, Angus had fallen into what he could only assume was a mild case of depression. He couldn’t be sure, simply because in all of his seventy-four years, he’d never experienced what depression felt like. Money brought him nothing but happiness throughout his colorful life. Over the years, he’d watched other millionaires and countless celebrities make appearances on primetime talk shows, and with tissue in hand, proceed to tell the world how lonely they feel and how terrible being rich and famous really was. Angus rolled his eyes at those pathetic individuals and vowed he would never turn into one of them. Up until this part of his life, he never had. Actually, to him, this wasn’t even the same thing.

  The root of the anguish he now felt was nothing more but the realization that he was nearing the end of his life, and as much as he loved his money, the thing hardest for him to accept was that he couldn’t take it with him. He kept the selfish feelings to himself, and although he knew how incredibly shallow his thoughts would sound if he made them known to others, he quite frankly didn’t care. It was he and he alone that started the very first Wedgeworth Furniture Store in his hometown of Hattiesburg, Mississippi almost forty-five years ago. Success came easy for him, and in less than a decade, a total of fifty-eight Wedgeworth Furniture Stores popped up all over the contiguous United States. After two decades, that number steadily increased to a whopping one-hundred and fifty stores. Before he reached the age of forty, he easily reached a celebrity status of sorts. His face in the Wedgeworth Furniture television commercials became almost as recognizable as the colonel of the Kentucky Fried Chicken fast food chain. The end of his life was something he never thought about, and now it was apparent that death didn’t discriminate between the rich and the poor. Unfortunately, money could not buy eternal life, but if it did, he would willingly give every cent he had to have it.

  Angus shook his head and did his best to rattle the depressing thoughts out of his mind. Hours earlier, he’d made an appearance to see the grand opening of the first Wedgeworth Furniture Store in Puerto Rico. It was quite an accomplishment for him, and it was hard to contain his pride. The success he enjoyed never got old, and he rewarded himself frequently.

  Now he stood before a massive street market filled with hundreds of less fortunate people struggling to make a living. They were selling everything from homemade jewelry to figurines carved from stone, and there were even women braiding hair for a small fee of ten dollars. Angus looked over his shoulder where his white stretch limo was parked nearby. His personal bodyguards, Travis Mills and Frank Turner, watched him closely as they always did. Travis was a tall, large-framed man, and he was balding. His appearance alone intimidated most. He was forty years old and remained one of the few people Angus considered a friend. Travis had been employed by him for twenty years, and there was no one better at what he did than he. Frank had worked for him roughly ten years and was handpicked by Travis. Angus had always allowed Travis to manage Frank so he knew very little about the younger man. Frank shaved his head and his thick, black eyebrows slanted in such a way that made him always seem angry. The unusual thing about Frank was that he never spoke. Angus never bothered to ask why, and he wasn’t sure if Travis had ever heard him speak or not. Eventually, Angus just assumed the young man was mute. Both men normally wore jeans and tight T-shirts, but since they attended the grand opening also, today, they wore black suits. The black sunglasses both men wore completed the package and most people who didn’t know better would swear they were in the secret service.

  Over the years, Angus had gained a healthy amount of trust in Travis and Frank. He’d tested their loyalty on more than one occasion. Once, Angus discovered that his personal chef, a heavy middle-aged man named Jacob Fleming, had been stealing money from him. He’d never been so furious in all of his life, and upon the discovery, he demanded that Frank and Travis bring the thief to his office at once. Minutes later, they returned with the frightened chef. Angus ordered them to shut the door and lock it. He wasted no time confronting his thief and demanded a confession. Jacob, of course, denied the entire thing for fear of losing his job or worse, spending time in jail. Angus was certain of his guilt, and before he knew, it his anger got the best of him. He ordered Travis to assault the chef, and he immediately obliged. Frank grabbed him and Travis punched the helpless man squarely across the jaw. Jacob began to sob and blood trickled from the corner of his lips. Angus asked him again to admit his guilt and again he denied the entire thing. Travis threw another punch across Jacob’s jaw, this time knocking a tooth loose. Finally, with blood now pouring from his mouth, the chef confessed his crime. Frank threw the man to the ground and Angus let his rage take over. He kicked the man mercilessly as he frantically tried to crawl away from the attack. After they all took turns beating the chef, they finally released him with a warning. Angus told him that if he ever told anyone of the beating or if he ever showed his face on his property again, he would first attempt to have him prosecuted for the theft. If that didn’t work, he would have him killed. Jacob believed it and literally ran from the house, never to be seen again. As the years clicked by, Angus seemed to become more and more desensitized to violence. He used it other times throughout the past decade to get things that he wanted and he had never felt bad about it. That’s not to say that he believed he was a bad man, it was quite the contrary.

  He never hurt someone that he didn’t feel truly deserved it. If people would just do what he wanted, what he asked, no one would ever get hurt. He was a powerful man, and the sooner people realized it, the less people would be hurt. That is why he trusted Travis and Frank so much. They’d been involved in too many of those violent acts. He would always provide for them as long as they always kept quiet and as long as they kept him safe.

  It was for that reason Angus felt completely comfortable drifting away from them a bit so he could explore the market in search of some souvenirs to take back to the states. They knew in some instances he just needed time alone, time to mingle among people who probably had no idea who he was. He was comfortable knowing they were watching his every move and the moves of every individual around him at all times. They would be there the second he needed them, if he needed them. He felt strongly, however, that it wouldn’t come to that. These people really didn’t know who he was. All they knew was that he was a rich American prepared to buy countless items that they had for sale.

  As soon as he entered the market, people began beckoning him in all directions. He went from vendor to vendor looking at all sorts of homemade products. He saw lots of T-shirts, beach towels, swimwear, and all types of carvings made from stone and wood. The one thing that caught his eye as soon as he got out of the limo was one of the larger booths set up near the end of the street. A young man sat on a stool reading a book and seemed oblivious to his existence. He seemed to care nothing about selling the beautiful homemade jewelry neatly displayed across the table in front of him. The jewelry was the one thing that Angus was attracted to and he methodically made his way there, waving off pleas on either side of him as he went. When he finally arrived, he picked up a necklace with a gorgeous silver medallion encrusted with rubies that made the shape of a sun. It seemed exotic enough and perfect to put on display with all of the other collectibles he had acquired around the world. He looked at the price tag and smiled mischievously.

  “Young man, this is highway robbery,” he said in
a firm tone meant to startle the boy from his book.

  The young man quickly lowered his book and stood abruptly from the stool.

  “Sir? Would you like to buy some one of a kind jewelry, sir?” he stammered in surprisingly crisp and clean English.

  “I would love to buy some of your jewelry, but I don’t intend on being scammed either,” Angus quipped. “Where in the world do you get off charging one-hundred dollars for this?” he asked, holding the medallion up.

  Sunlight gleamed off the silver and momentarily blinded the young man. He shielded his eyes before he spoke. “It took a lot of time to make that medallion. I’m telling you, it is one of a kind,” he replied, surprisingly calm.

  Angus smiled again, knowing full well that the boy was very experienced in negotiating prices with many tourists who just didn’t know any better. “It is indeed a beautiful medallion, but it is not that beautiful. I’ll give you fifty for it,” he offered.

  The young man shook his head in disagreement. “No, no, I cannot do that. My grandfather would not be happy. I can take seventy-five, but no less,” he said.

  “What is your name son?” Angus asked.

  “Armando.”

  “Well, Armando, does your grandfather own this booth?”

  The boy nodded.

  “May I speak with him about his ridiculous prices?” Angus asked.

  “My grandfather is not here today. I’m taking care of his business while he is away.”

  “I see. Is this the only way he makes his living?”

  “Yes, he made every piece of jewelry you see here. He made them all with homemade tools. That’s how I know it’s all one of a kind. My grandfather puts a lot of time and effort into each piece. He would be very angry with me if I change his prices.”

  Angus eyed the young man for a long moment. The kid seemed to be telling the truth. He looked down at the homemade medallion resting in his palm and thought back to the early days of his furniture business. It was very similar circumstances because he made almost all of the furniture on his own. He longed to have those days back again. The memories weighed heavily upon him again, and before he knew it, his eyes were watering up. He struggled to fight back tears as he realized what was happening. Of all times to break down! Of all times to let it all get to me! Not now, not in front of this kid! He quickly turned his back to the young man and did his best to regain composure. He glanced over toward Travis and Frank. He wasn’t surprised at all to see them walking towards him with concerned looks on their faces. He gently waved them off and turned back to face the boy.

  “Okay, kid, you got me. You’re a heck of a salesman. I’ll give you seventy-five for the medallion. You tell your grandfather that one of your customers complimented you on your sales ability.” The words he spoke were nothing more but an attempt to cover up the sudden wave of emotion that cut through him like a hot knife in butter. He fumbled around his jacket pocket in search of his wallet. When he found it, he retrieved some cash and handed it to the boy.

  Armando carefully took the money and stared at Angus with wonder. “Thank you, sir, I hope you enjoy the medallion. I will tell my grandfather what you said.”

  “Thanks, kid,” he said, and he turned away to escape the pitiful situation before it got worse. Before he even took a step to leave, what he feared would happen suddenly did.

  “Sir, if you don’t mind my asking, is something wrong?” the boy asked innocently.

  Angus stopped walking immediately and spun around to face the genuinely concerned boy.

  “I’m fine, young man, why do you ask?”

  “You just seem…saddened.”

  Angus stared at Armando for another long moment and actually contemplated pouring his heart out to this stranger. He couldn’t keep his thoughts and concerns bottled up forever. It would almost certainly do him good to let it all out, and who better to tell it to than this kid who really had no idea who he was? He stepped slowly back toward Armando and pulled the gray fedora from his head. He plopped the hat down on the table and fell back onto an old wooden chair next to the boy.

  “Okay, kid, just remember you asked for this,” he said with a nervous laugh.

  Armando nodded and reassured him it was alright.

  “I just turned seventy-four years old,” he began.

  “Happy birthday to you, sir,” Armando said.

  “Thanks, but listen to what I have to say before you interrupt. It’s not really a joyous time for me. I’m undoubtedly nearing the end of my life, and it’s absolutely eating at me.”

  “You have no idea how much longer you will live, sir,” Armando interrupted again. “People are living longer and longer, and for all you know, you may live to be one hundred.”

  Angus shook his head. “No, not me, kid. I figure I’ll probably make it to eighty or eighty-five at the most and that’ll be it. If I’m lucky, I’ve got ten more years left in me.” He paused and glanced over at Armando who was still shaking his head in disagreement. “Trust me, kid, I’ve just got a feeling. I’ve had a long good life, and I’ve had anything and everything you could ever ask for. I’m a selfish man, Armando; I have no problem admitting it. I’ve enjoyed my life, and I’m not ready to die any time soon. There is so much more I’d like to do.” Tears began to well up in his eyes again and Armando patted him softly on the back.

  Armando felt pity for the wealthy old man who was now sobbing in front of him. He was just about to speak again when two large men dressed in black suits ran up from seemingly out of nowhere.

  “Mr. Wedgeworth, are you okay?” Travis asked.

  Angus laughed a moment before he spoke. “Travis, I’m fine, me and my new friend Armando here were having a nice discussion about life and I got a little choked up.”

  Travis eyed the young man closely, but said nothing. Armando didn’t like the way he stared at him. Frank stood nearby, but remained silent while Travis investigated.

  “You and Frank head back to the limo, I’ll be right behind you,” Angus said as he stood up from the rickety chair. When Travis didn’t move, Angus patted his shoulder and said, “Go on now, I promise I’ll be right behind both of you. Let me say goodbye to my friend here.” Travis finally nodded and motioned for Frank to follow him back to the car.

  Armando watched the sharp dressed men walk away and suddenly felt relieved. The two men appeared intimidating, but he supposed they were the old man’s bodyguards. They’re supposed to look that way, he thought. He dismissed it and turned his attention back to the old man.

  “Are you going to be alright, sir?”

  Angus nodded. “Yes, I suppose I will. Death will eventually catch up with us all. Maybe one day, there will be a way for people to live forever; it’s just a shame I will never get to see it. I would pay handsomely for that sort of thing. Oh well, thank you for listening to me babble about all of this, kid. It was very therapeutic for me to get it all off my chest.” He stood and began following Travis and Frank back to the car.

  Armando thought to himself about what the old man had just said. There was no doubt he was a very wealthy man and eternal life was obviously something he had become obsessed with. So obsessed, he would be willing to pay a large sum of money to acquire it. A few times during their conversation, Armando considered revealing a well-kept family secret to the old man. Over four hundred and fifty years ago, his great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather discovered the legendary fountain of youth. He drank from the fountain and felt its power take over his body. It was he who made Ponce de León aware of its existence. He spent a large portion of his life in prison until he escaped somewhere around his one hundred and fiftieth birthday. Today, his grandfather had reached the age of five hundred and fourteen years old, but still looked as if he were no older than twenty-two. Armando often wondered if the fountain of youth still existed somewhere, but his grandfather insisted that searching for it would lead to certain death. His grandfather believed that the fountain of youth was a curse, not a blessing. He seemed a
lmost miserable living day after day with no end in sight.

  His grandfather was by no means immortal. He could get sick, and he could be killed any number of ways just as any ordinary man could. He just did not ever age. His body and all of his organs remained young. Armando, unfortunately, knew that suicide was becoming a concern for the family as their dear grandfather seemed more and more depressed as the years clicked by. He knew his grandfather would certainly disapprove of him telling this strange old man the secrets of his past; however, if the old man was willing to pay for information about the fountain of youth, maybe it would be worth it. Maybe his grandfather would be less inclined to be angry if it was to make the lives of their family much better than it presently was. If he was going to say something, he knew he had to make up his mind quickly. Angus was almost to the limo.

  “Sir! Please, wait!” Armando shouted.

  Angus stopped beside the car and looked back at the young man. He was surprised and puzzled all at the same time. Armando quickly ran to him. “Wait,” he said, now trying to catch his breath. “I do know of a way to get what you want.”

  “What are you referring to, kid?”

  “Eternal life.”

  Angus perked up. “Quickly, get in the car,” he said, almost shoving Armando into the limo.

  Once inside, Angus wiped sweat from his brow with a handkerchief and offered Armando a cold drink. The boy was momentarily awestruck as he realized he was sitting inside of a limousine, something he never dreamed he’d get the opportunity to do. He ran his fingertips across the soft leather seats and breathed in a pleasant vanilla aroma that washed throughout the car’s interior.

  “Alright, kid, what are you talking about?” Angus was genuinely interested in what Armando had to say, but he did his best to sound skeptical. The young Puerto Rican told what he knew about his grandfather and the fountain of youth. Angus suddenly didn’t have to pretend to be skeptical. He found himself very skeptical of the story his new friend told. The fountain of youth was nothing more than folklore. At this point, it wouldn’t have made much difference to him if Armando had told him that his grandfather also owned a ranch full of unicorns. He stared out the window as he mulled it all over, then he glanced back over to Armando. The young man was smiling and wide-eyed. He apparently did not pick up on the fact that Angus wasn’t buying a single word of his story.