The Island In The Mist: A Dinosaur Thriller Read online

  On his way to the television, he pulled off his fedora and tossed it on an old wooden rack in the corner of the room. The hat rack was next to a large trophy case. The trophies inside gleamed brightly. Jonathon gazed at them a long moment and thought of his father. When he was a small boy, his father taught him the art of knife throwing. It was something his father had done for many years professionally. Jonathon had fond memories of his father performing knife throwing shows for his school and countless birthday parties over the years.

  The most terrifying part for him was the most anticipated part for the audience. His father would introduce a beautiful woman to the crowd and he would then have her stand in front of a large piece of plywood. He then bound the woman’s hands over her head so she would be unable to move. After allowing plenty of tension to build with the audience, his father would then stand twenty feet away and throw a total of six knives. Each blade stuck in the plywood with a loud thud on either side of the woman’s torso. Of course, the crowd always gave a roaring applause, but Jonathon always breathed a sigh of relief. For him it was more than just a show. The woman bound to the wooden wall was his mother. Thankfully, his mother managed to escape years of the act without suffering from any major injury. The only incident that ever drew blood was a minor nick to her thigh. However, it was enough to get his father’s attention because shortly thereafter, he gave up the knife-throwing show for good. Today, Jonathon’s mother and father were both alive and well, enjoying the sunshine of south Florida.

  Jonathon picked up on his father’s talent and became very skilled with a knife in his own rite. He didn’t have a knife show, but he did compete in knife-throwing competitions a lot as a teenager. He competed, and most of the time, he won. He had the trophies to prove it. Jonathon rarely carried a pocketknife with him when he was on a dig, but he almost always kept a large hunting knife on his belt. Most men feel safe if they’re carrying a gun, but for Jonathon, the knife was all he needed. It was a useful tool on digs, and he could be deadly with it if he ever had to be.

  He turned the television on and plopped down on a large leather couch that was way past its prime. He carelessly kicked his feet up on the coffee table, knocking magazines and books off in the process. Lucy wouldn’t leave his mind and he cared little about anything else. Rex, his golden retriever, jumped up on the couch with him and rested his furry head on his lap. The dog seemed to sense that its master was feeling a little blue.

  “I’ll be alright, boy,” he said as he scratched Rex behind the ears.

  The local news was on, and though he didn’t really feel like watching it, he didn’t feel like getting up to change the channel either. As it was, he’d turned it on just in time to catch the news of the world, and he was pleased to see that the new Soviet leader, Mikhail Gorbachev, had made good on his promise to begin the withdrawal of troops in Afghanistan and Mongolia. Immediately following that story, they began a discussion about the upcoming Christmas season.

  “It’s July, for Pete’s sake,” Jonathon said aloud.

  The young man reporting the story began to talk about the soon-to-be hot gifts of the season. Among them was something called a Nintendo game console that had apparently already become wildly popular in Japan. Finally, they got to some local news, and just as Jonathon was beginning to drift off to sleep, he heard something that jarred him awake. The anchorman announced that he’d given an exclusive interview to Angus Wedgeworth, the local millionaire who owned the famous Wedgeworth Furniture store chain. This demanded Jonathon’s attention because he knew Angus personally and had for many years. The old man had a reputation of being crotchety and very hard to deal with. He was always looking for tax write-offs and he frequently donated large sums of money to the museum. Occasionally, he would pay the museum a visit, and it always irritated Jonathon how everyone seemed to roll out the red carpet for the man. He clearly had an ego problem, and Jonathon believed the visits were nothing more but a reminder to all of the employees that he personally paid a lot of their salaries.

  Jonathon appreciated the donations just as much as the museum curator, but he still saw the man for what he was: a snobby, selfish Scrooge who cared about no one but himself and his money. Angus always made a point to stop in his laboratory and pretend to be interested in his work. Jonathon always did his best to smile and answer his questions as politely as he could when on the inside he wanted to smack the old man’s cocky grin off his face. After a few minutes, he would abruptly leave and visit the entomologist, or the zoologist, or whoever was next down the hallway. Then he would leave and things would return to normal.

  The interview began with Angus being congratulated on the first Wedgeworth Store to open outside of the United States in Puerto Rico of all places. The old man smiled and seemed to be genuinely proud of the accomplishment. Jonathon could certainly respect that; he knew Angus had humble beginnings. He just wished he could’ve remained humble himself. The interview trudged on to mention that he’d recently celebrated his seventy-fourth birthday and Jonathon couldn’t help but notice this seemed to make the old man a bit uncomfortable. He thanked the newsman and tried to direct attention back to his stores. Then, shockingly, the newsman asked him if he’d given any thought to who would be the heir of the furniture store when the time finally came for him to give it all up.

  Jonathon thought it was a tacky question, even for a sleazy man like Angus. However, the old man seemed unaffected by the question and answered very matter of factly that he had no intentions of leaving the store to anyone. The newsman laughed the reply off, clearly thinking it was a joke. When he pressed on, Angus reiterated very firmly that his company would always be run by him. Then he smiled widely and declared that he planned to live forever so there was no reason to make plans to leave his fortune to anyone. Still thinking it was a joke, the newsman laughed heartedly again.

  Jonathon remembered feeling a slight chill up his spine when Angus made the bold statement. There was something about the way he said it that made him believe he meant it. The man is completely off his rocker, he thought. As he drifted off to sleep, he hoped he wouldn’t have nightmares about the old man living forever and terrorizing him for the rest of his life.

  Chapter 8:

  The next morning, Jonathon awoke with a splitting headache. The orange rays of light from the rising sun shone brightly into the living room and did nothing to help the excruciating pain in his skull. He sat on the edge of the couch a moment and closed his eyes tightly, hoping some of the pain would subside. It did slightly, and he walked slowly to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom to take a couple of Tylenol. He didn’t have any nightmares about Angus, fortunately, but he did dream endlessly about Lucy. There was no question in his mind that he couldn’t let her go easily and the first thing he needed to do was call her. He pulled on his trademark cargo pants and slipped on a red, loose-fitting IZOD shirt. He then grabbed his hat and reached down for the phone. It rang for what seemed like an eternity but Lucy never answered. She usually slept late during the summer, and it was probable that she had a rough night too. She, unlike him, drank alcohol and loved it. He pictured her hung-over from a night of endless drinking and probably suffering from a headache much like his own.

  The stress of the whole ordeal was most likely the culprit for his own aching head as he was a classic example of a worrier. He worried about anything and everything. He worried about everything from dying early to losing his job unexpectedly and now it was possibly losing the woman he loved forever. Rex darted to him as he sensed his master was about to leave. Jonathon gave him a swift pat on the head and headed out to his jeep. The Tylenol hadn’t quite kicked in yet and the sunlight was getting brighter. He quickly fumbled around the console for his sunglasses and felt instant relief when he put them on.

  Twenty minutes later, he entered the museum and was quickly greeted by the curator, a sixty-something-year-old man named Martin Webb. He was dressed in his usual suit and tie.

  “Morning, Marty,” Jon
athon said, surprised.

  “Good morning, Jonathon. You’re running a few minutes late, aren’t you?” said Marty anxiously. He wasn’t upset that Jonathon was late; something else seemed to trouble him.

  “Yeah, I’ve got an awful headache. I’m a little slow this morning. What’s wrong with you? You seem tense.”

  “Yes, I am somewhat tense I guess,” he chuckled. “It’s just that Angus Wedgeworth arrived as soon as we opened our doors this morning.”

  Oh great…just what I need today, Jonathon thought, trying desperately to hide his displeasure. For a split second, he wondered if he was still sleeping and having the nightmare he predicted would happen.

  “Why is he here so early?” he asked.

  There was a steady stream of employees arriving for work, and Marty gently grabbed Jonathon’s arm and led him into the gift shop for more privacy. His beady eyes darted around nervously.

  “I was curious about that also. I asked him to come chat with me in my office and he declined. He said he only wants to speak with you.”

  Jonathon was taken aback.

  “With me? What does he want with me?”

  Martin shrugged. “I have no idea, he wouldn’t tell me. He said he wants to talk to you. When I noticed you weren’t here yet, I offered to let him wait in my office. Once again, he declined. He said he’d rather wait in yours.”

  “That would be hard to do since I lock it up,” Jonathon replied with a grin.

  “Well, actually, I let him in.”

  “Marty! You know I don’t like people snooping around in there when I’m not here,” Jonathon grumbled.

  “Yes, I know, I know,” Marty replied, holding up his hands. “But you know how much money he pours into this place. He paid for a lot of that equipment you have. Who knows, he may be here to make a donation specifically for your work.”

  Jonathon’s heart fluttered a little. He hadn’t thought of that possibility. Then he remembered who they were talking about and his headache flared up again.

  “I won’t take any money from him. He can donate to the museum so it can be evenly distributed or I don’t want any of it,” he said firmly.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Martin scowled. “If he offers money, you darn well better take it and put it to good use. You’re always saying you want to spend more time doing fieldwork. Use it for that.”

  Jonathon wanted to argue about the issue further, but Martin all but pushed him out of the gift shop.

  “Go on, he’s waiting for you.”

  He reluctantly made his way to his office and was surprised to see the door closed.

  “No telling what he’s into,” he muttered to himself as he twisted the knob. Angus was relaxing in his office chair with his feet propped up on the desk. He was reading a book on dinosaurs of the Cretaceous Period and didn’t seem to notice him enter.

  “May I help you?” Jonathon asked finally, trying to sound unfazed by the unexpected visit.

  Angus slapped the book shut and quickly sat upright in the chair.

  “This is a fascinating field of science, Mr. Williams,” he said cheerfully.

  “Yes…I think it is.”

  “My favorite dinosaur throughout my entire life has always been Stegosaurus. It is one of the most recognizable dinosaurs right up there with the T-rex and Triceratops.”

  “Yes, that’s right, it is,” Jonathon agreed.

  “I was just reading your book here and it came as a surprise to me that Stegosaurus didn’t even live in the same time period as T-rex and Triceratops.”

  “Yes, sir, it’s a common misconception. The reality is that millions of years separated them from each other. Stegosaurus was alive during the late Jurassic Period.”

  “How fascinating,” the old man replied, and he truly did seem interested.

  Jonathon wondered where this newfound interest suddenly came from.

  Angus gazed around the office at the charts and pictures of different species of dinosaurs. There was a long awkward silence and Jonathon wondered if he’d forgotten he was there again.

  “What can I do for you today, Mr. Wedgeworth?”

  “Oh please, don’t call me Mr. Wedgeworth. My name is Angus. Call me Angus.”

  “Okay…Angus. How can I help you?”

  The old man beamed at the question. “Actually, I think we can help each other quite a bit.”

  “And how is that?”

  Angus turned and grabbed the office chair he’d been sitting in. He rolled it across the floor and moved it behind Jonathon.

  ”Trust me; you’re going to want to sit down for this.”

  Jonathon wished the man would get to the point, but he played along and sat down.

  “Mr. Williams, how long have dinosaurs been extinct?”

  “That’s not fair, if I have to call you Angus, you call me Jonathon,” he quipped.

  “Okay, Jonathon, please answer the question.”

  “They’ve been gone around 65 million years. Why?”

  Angus laughed merrily. Jonathon looked on, very confused.

  “I don’t understand. What is so funny about that?”

  Angus suddenly quit laughing and turned serious. He drew his face close to Jonathon’s.

  “What if I told you that dinosaurs are still alive today?”

  Jonathon raised an eyebrow. Its official, he’s lost it.

  “I’d say that’s not possible,” he replied calmly.

  “Jonathon, it’s the truth. They are alive today and I have the proof.”

  He still didn’t believe it and was beginning to feel very uncomfortable.

  “Come on…you don’t really believe dinosaurs are alive today, do you?”

  Angus nodded.

  “On this planet? You believe they are alive on this planet?”

  Angus nodded again.

  “Don’t take my word for it, see for yourself,” he said as he grabbed a file folder off the corner of the desk and handed it to Jonathon.

  Inside the folder were four photographs. The pictures were apparently taken from an airplane, and at first, it seemed that they were of some animals grazing in a large field. He couldn’t quite make out what the animals were at first, but suddenly the realization of what he was looking at grabbed him and he felt slightly dizzy.

  “Is that what I think it is?” he asked softly.

  “It is exactly what you think it is,” Angus replied.

  “This is a herd of Gallimimus dinosaurs…and are those… Triceratops?” he asked, his voice rising from excitement.

  “Well I thought those looked like Triceratops, but I honestly had no idea what those were,” he said pointing to the herd of Gallimimus. “That’s why I’ve come to you, to identify them.”

  “Where did you find these?”

  “A pilot that works for me found them on an island in the Atlantic Ocean. Naturally, they were just as shocked as you and I are. They immediately took some pictures.”

  Jonathon reached over to his desk and opened the top right drawer. He dug around in its contents until he pulled out a small magnifying glass. He studied the photographs carefully. They certainly appeared to be authentic.

  “Who else knows about this?” he asked.

  “No one, just you. I want to explore this island, and since you’re pretty much the only paleontologist I know, I would like for you to come along.”

  Jonathon dropped the magnifying glass and stared at the old man for a long moment.

  “Of course, I’ll be willing to pay you,” Angus said, confused about the silence.

  Jonathon continued to stare, almost in a trance. He had become so enchanted with the photographs and the possibility of seeing real live dinosaurs that he almost forgot who he was talking to. Dinosaurs were extinct, and the more he thought about it, the more he had a hard time believing what he was hearing. Everything just seemed too good to be true. Angus Wedgeworth was one of the last people on earth he trusted and he wasn’t about to begin acting differently now.

&n
bsp; “Mr. Wedgeworth,” he began.

  “Angus…call me Angus.”

  “Oh, yeah…sorry. Angus, I can’t do this,” Jonathon said, handing the photographs back.

  The expression on Angus’s face was one of pure astonishment.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “There are plenty of other paleontologists across the country that are far more qualified than me. If this is a real photograph and you plan on exploring this island you better take someone who knows what they’re doing. This could be a very dangerous undertaking. I don’t want that kind of responsibility.”

  Angus didn’t like the way Jonathon seemingly questioned the photograph’s authenticity.

  “You don’t believe the pictures are real?” he asked, trying to sound hurt.

  “I didn’t mean to imply that I don’t believe you,” he answered. “However, you must understand that this just seems too good to be true.”

  Angus nodded.

  “I didn’t believe it at first either, Jonathon. I finally had to take a plane and fly low over the island to see it with my own eyes before I accepted it. I’m not asking you to believe the pictures, but I am asking you to believe me.”

  Jonathon still believed it was all some sort of trick, but he didn’t let Angus know it.

  “I believe you,” he lied. “But I’m still not the right guy for this job. Most of my experience has been with marine paleontology. You need to find a paleontologist at a large university to help you.”

  The old man was secretly becoming quite agitated with Jonathon’s refusal to assist him. He was just about to begin one more attempt to persuade him when something caught his eye on the wall over Jonathon’s shoulder. It was a photo of Jonathon and a young woman. Angus thought hard and vaguely remembered meeting the woman a few months ago on one of his visits to the museum. She was Jonathon’s girlfriend, and if he remembered correctly, she was a paleontologist also. She was wearing a Mississippi State University sweatshirt. A paleontologist at a large university…good idea, he thought. He decided he’d wasted enough time with Jonathon. Suddenly, he held out his hand. Jonathon shook it.