Barlow’s great, great uncle had been Douglas Baxter, and he had heard the family stories of his ill-fated expedition with Benjamin Cartwright, and the rumors of them setting off to find a secret place inhabited by fantastical creatures never before seen by modern man.
No matter how much he invested or how much time he spent, he could never find any clue as to where to look or even where to begin to look. He had scoured the Amazon and had even paid a small fortune for satellite images. But in the land of the Boraro, the South American demons, his searches had come to a dead end.
Barlow had always suspected that there was something he was missing or misreading — the clues, the place, or maybe even the timing. He remembered that Douglas Baxter related a sense of urgency about dates and needing to be down in the Amazon during a certain time — rainy season, eclipse, breeding cycles — he never found out exactly what.
His final throw of the dice was a technological one; years ago, he had engaged a software company to lay sophisticated bear traps on the Internet and also the dark web. They used trigger words, and a combination of each would spring the trap: Benjamin Cartwright — expedition notebook — 1908 — Amazon Jungle, and — dinosaur.
Nothing had come of it; nothing ever got triggered.
Until now.
Every online trap they had burst into life as multiple word combinations were being searched for: Benjamin Cartwright, expedition notebook, 1908, Amazon Jungle. It was obvious that someone was looking for a missing manuscript related to the mission to the Venezuelan Amazon in 1908. His damned mission.
Barlow had felt the hair rise on the back of his neck when he had read the report. The technical document also traced the search back to its source. He sat back for a moment, clasping clubby fingers across his belly.
Why now? Why did someone suddenly begin to look? he wondered, but immediately had an answer: Because more clues had come to light, or whatever cyclical event needed to occur was about to reoccur.
Barlow sprang forward, beginning to type on his computer. Whoever this person or people were, they were in the lead. But he had an advantage — he knew about them, but they didn’t know about him.
If they had something that could lead them to the manuscript, he wanted it. And he would have it at any and all costs. He had searched for years, his life, and if anyone were going to find that hidden world, it’d be him.
He paused, thinking. He needed to assemble a team and include people who were prepared to break the law if necessary.
He began to type again; he knew just the man. Someone he had worked with before, someone who was as ruthlessly efficient as they were unscrupulous.
Barlow smiled. As Sir Arthur Conan Doyle once wrote: the game’s afoot.
CHAPTER 05
Ben took a taxicab to meet the gang rather than letting Emma pick him up again; he wanted to think on the way. After getting back home last night, he had spent a little more time rummaging through much of the attic looking for more clues, and maybe the missing notebook. Perhaps rendering this adventure over before it started.
He yawned and rubbed tired eyes; he ended up with only a few hours sleep and no evidence that the notebook belonging to his great, great grandfather was ever found. Wherever Doyle put it, that’s probably where it stayed.
Ben smiled as he remembered Emma’s enthusiasm. Her eyes had lit up just like the kid he remembered from all those years ago.
It was weird how close they had all been, and now being back, if he squinted real hard, he could see them all as they were then.
Twenty-five years ago, he, Dan, Steve, Emma, and Andrea had their own pushbike gang, hanging out at the local park and racing each other on the jogging track. They were normal kids with freckles, braces, and knobby knees. And little Emma Wilson, with her huge front teeth and just the hint of tiny breasts beginning to poke at the front of her loose T-shirt.
He remembered her stacking her bike and grazing a knee. His mom always made him keep some band-aids in his pocket, which he thought dumb at the time, but it meant he could pull one out and slap it on her wound. She pressed on it and then looked up at him. Those large green eyes crinkled at the corners and stared, and he felt his kid heart bump up a notch. No one had even looked at him like that. Well, no other girl anyway.
Then came the hanging out at the mall as young teenagers, and then high school and following that, they all ended up at Ohio State, where he and Steve were picked to try out for the Buckeyes football team; a big honor. Andrea even got to be a cheerleader.
It was an away game and afterwards, he and Steve were to meet Dan and Emma in the car park. But before Ben even got there, he saw the four, big raw-boned young men around Emma and Dan. Perhaps they were Wolverine supporters and had taken exception to the grey and scarlet that his friends wore. Regardless, Dan faced them down, the small Japanese man barely coming up to their shoulders. But he was all heart and refused to step back or take whatever shit they were dishing out.
Dan got punched then. Emma screamed and lunged and was immediately grabbed by the upper arm, jerked hard and thrown to the ground. Ben saw red and dropped his bag and sprinted at them.
Ben’s father had taught him to box when he was young, and he shoved one guy out of the way and then spun the leader around to face him. The guy went to double-hand push Ben in the chest.
Ben’s father also told him that in a street fight to always make the first one count — he did. While the guy lunged forward, Ben used his momentum to throw a straight right into his face, a bulls-eye to the nose.
Blood and snot sprayed, and the cartilage flattened. The guy went down, and Ben spun to the next. He hoped they wanted more; he wanted to punish them all. Steve was now at his shoulder and a few seconds of glaring resulted in the three guys yelling a few fuck yous, and then picking up their buddy and limping away.
Steve went to help Dan, Ben crouched down beside Emma, and she held out a hand. He gave her a crooked smile.
“I’ve got another band-aid if you need it.”
She beamed back at him. “My white knight rides in to save the day again.” Emma squeezed his hand, and he fell into those beautiful eyes.
“Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He smiled sappily and hauled her up.
“I need you now.” She still held his hand.
They went steady after that, loving, laughing, and making plans for some perfect future they’d make together.
But life’s roads have bends and turns, and after a while, their worlds tilted and they slid in different directions. And before he knew it, she was gone and then someone else’s girl. And he was left wondering what to do with himself. Maybe that’s why, and when, he decided to leave town.
But now being back made him realize how much he’d missed them all. And maybe how much he needed them all.
The fact was, his mom was more settled now, and he’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t more than a little intrigued by the whole idea of the adventure. Besides, if Dan wanted to pay, then the only thing he stood to lose was a few days time. And for that, he got to hang out with his old friends, Emma, and probably do it all first class — no downside.
“Here you go, buddy.” The driver pulled up at the rib joint. “Enjoy your breakfast.”
“Will do.” Ben paid and stepped out.
In the harsh light of day, it looked shabbier than when it had its neon makeup in place. He grinned; it was the first rib joint he knew that reinvented itself as a diner throughout the day. Good — he didn’t actually feel like ribs for breakfast.