Chapter 9: Lost

June 30, 1991 - Sunday

Rob was outside, indexing some throw away bones, talking to himself.

"Leaves me here alone. With Dr. I-Know-Everything. What was he thinking? He wasn't, that's the point. He's gone woman crazy. Another one bites the dust."

"Who are you talking to, Mr. Tandy?"

Rob quickly turned around, startled in knowing that someone was near him. It was Dr. Porter.

"No one. Myself. Hey, since you're here, what would you index this as?" Rob asked, holding up a tiny fragment of a bone.

"Send it to the university. It might be able to be identified there."

"I thank you, Dr. Porter, sir."

Porter looked at him and laughed. He thought Rob was a wise ass, but he still liked the kid. And besides, the kid was good friends with Grant, so he was going to be around no matter what.

"I'm going to get some lunch. I'll be back soon. Do you think you can run the place while I'm gone?" Porter asked politely.

"I don't know. I'm kind of scared."

Porter shook his head and walked off toward his car. Rob continued to talk to his back.

"So, how's the wife?" he teased.

Porter turned around, answering quickly.

"She's sucking the life out of me," he said.

"You're a very bitter man. You know that right?" Rob asked jokingly.

Porter laughed and turned around, walking toward his car again. Rob was about to tease him some more, but then his attention was diverted. There was a pickup truck heading his way.

"Dr. Grant!" he yelled so that Porter could hear, "Look at that! The dig site has been saved! Saved, I tell you!"

Porter ignored him and got into his car. He was laughing slightly as he put the car in drive. He moved past Alan's truck and slowed down for a minute.

Rob could see the two scientists talking for a second, and then he watched Porter nod and drive off. Alan's truck continued all the way to where Rob was standing. Alan stopped the truck and turned it off.

"Welcome back. Alan and his mysterious date. Oooooo . . . who could it be?"

Alan smiled and got out of the truck. The passenger's door opened and Ellie got out, too. She waved at Rob.

"Ellie Sattler? Is it you? Oh, my," Rob said, shaking his head, "Could it be, Dr. Grant . . . that you took "The Rob's" advice?" Rob made quotation marks with his hands as he said "The Rob".

"Rob, I've got stuff to do, so if you'll excuse me," Alan said, moving past his friend.

"What stuff do you have to do?"

"I'm going on location scouting again today."

"On Sunday?"

"Yes, Rob."

Rob glanced over at Ellie, who was listening to them. He came closer to Alan, so that only he could hear.

"My friend, my friend. Why aren't you spending this day of relaxation with a beautiful woman," Rob whispered, gesturing toward Ellie.

Alan just stared at him, sort of wondering the same thing himself. Maybe she would be interested in going with him? He looked at her.

"Do you want to join me?"

She wanted to go, but she had promised Allison that she would help her move into the apartment.

"I can't. I've got other plans today. I would love to, but I'll have to go the next time," she said, disappointed.

Alan nodded and then looked at Rob.

"See, the lady has other plans anyway," he whispered, and then he looked at Ellie, "That's okay. I'll see you tonight then?"

Ellie smiled.

"Sure."

Alan smiled back, almost walking up to kiss her. But as he thought about Rob's arsenal of questions that were about to come his way already, he decided not to. He really wanted to, but he just nodded and then began to walk toward his trailer. Rob quickly said good bye to Ellie, by awkwardly waving at her, causing her to laugh. Then, he followed Alan right into his trailer.

"So, how did things go?" he asked.

Alan was through the front door at about that time. He turned to look at his nosey friend.

"I'm not telling you anything, Rob."

"So . . . what you're saying is . . . you're not going to kiss and tell?" Rob teased.

Alan looked away from him and began to get the various scouting necessities together. Like binoculars, a seismic reader, water, and some other little things.

"Oh, come on, man! Tell me something!" Rob complained.

Alan grabbed his coat from one of the chairs and began to leave the trailer. Rob was still right behind him.

"Okay, one thing," Alan said, turning to face Rob, "Ellie is a great person. And attractive. And intelligent. And . . . "

"Yeah?" Rob asked, waiting for more.

"That was three things already. Now I've really got to go."

Rob laughed and began to shake his head.

"I can see that I'll have to get you good and drunk before you'll spill the beans."

Alan smiled and walked toward his truck, throwing some things in the flatbed. He looked inside, to make sure his two-way radio was on the seat, and then he looked back at Rob.

"Have you ever thought about taking downers?"

Rob looked as if his feelings were hurt, but he got over it fast.

"This isn't about me, mister," he said, gesturing toward himself, "It's about you," he said, pointing at Alan.

"I'm going now."

"Fine. Maybe I'll ask the little lady," Rob challenged, in a newly confident form.

Alan laughed, as he opened the truck door and got behind the wheel.

"Rob, you can ask her all of the questions you can think of," he said, closing the door, "But when she rips you one in the face, don't act surprised."

"Okay, okay. I'll give up . . . for now," Rob said, and then he added more seriously, "I'm just glad you're happy, Alan."

"I am, Rob. I am," he said, starting up his truck.

Rob nodded and waved, as Alan's truck left the dig site.

After passing the same rock structures for the third time, Alan began to admit the possibility of being lost. Just slightly lost, though. He wasn't too worried, since he had a radio with him in case of trouble. He stopped the truck and got out to take a good look around the area he was in. There were some very high cliffs in the area and it made for some breathtaking views. He stood very still, just staring out at the sky and all the wonders of the area. Upon a closer look at the sky, it seemed as though the bright blueness was fading away somewhat, possibly hinting at a storm far away. He got back in his truck, deciding that he needed to head back.

As he continued down the dirt road, the weather began to take a turn for the worse. He leaned forward and looked through the windshield, at the rows of dark clouds forming above. Then it started. The rain hit good and hard . . . and quick. Rain pelted the truck, making it very difficult to see very far ahead. He slowed the truck down, as the driving conditions lessened.

About twenty minutes had passed, when Alan realized that he was more than slightly lost now. He stopped the truck and took out the map that he had brought along. He studied it for a few minutes, got his bearings back, and then began to drive slowly and carefully again. The only problem was that he had mistaken his position on the map. He continued to drive out and away from where he wanted to go.

Several miles, and about three map-checks later, the rain began to slow down some. He stopped the truck again, in an attempt to figure out where he had gone wrong. It was going to be dark in just a few hours, and soon dusk would begin to invade the daylight hours. Alan felt completely lost and was getting a little worried about the approaching darkness. As his attention was focused on the map, the truck began to slowly slide in the mud. The dirt path he was parked on was sliding away because of the heavy rain.

Before he could do anything, his truck slid off the dirt path, went out of control and slid down an embankment at a very high rate of speed. He felt his life flash before his eyes, as he was easily tossed around the cabin of the truck. The truck hit a large rock, causing it to roll over. It continued down the hill, gaining even more speed, as it toppled end over end. Then it very abruptly stopped. He was in the passenger seat when the truck had stopped so suddenly and he ended up hitting his head against the windshield. He settled back into the seat and felt the sensation of warm blood trickling down the side of his face, and then something really bad and unexpected happened. The truck began to sway to the right, pivoting everything in that direction, including the apprehensive passenger.

Alan looked through the passenger side window and immediately wished that he hadn't looked at all. The truck had been stopped by a tree. A tree on the side of a very steep cliff. A cliff in which the truck had only slid about half way down so far. The truck continued to sway until gravity finally latched onto it, causing it to plummet once again. Alan braced himself and tried to hold on the best that he could, but there really wasn't a stable thing to grab onto. He made a last ditch effort to reach for the steering wheel, for something to hold onto, but the momentum of the falling truck pulled his outstretched arm away from the driver's side of the vehicle. The truck drastically bounced up and down several times, throwing its only passenger around wildly. Shards of glass from the windshield and side windows covered him, as the continuous spiral downward threatened to never stop. Suddenly, the inside of the truck seemed to float away, as Alan felt himself flying through the air. The last thing he remembered seeing was the ground rushing up to meet his face.

"I wish it would stop raining already!" Allison complained.

"It did come on rather suddenly, didn't it?" Ellie observed.

They were inside of the apartment, in the process of moving Allison in. They were only able to get about a quarter of the boxes into the apartment, before the rain came rushing in.

"Well, I wish it would go away just as sudden," Allison said.

Ellie laughed.

"A little rain never hurt anyone. Let's just organize what we have here so far. When it stops, we'll go and get more."

"Good idea," Allison said.

As they organized things, Allison kept looking at Ellie. There was something that Allison wanted to ask her friend, but she didn't feel she had the right to pry into her personal life. When she could think of nothing but her burning question, she finally gave up on not being nosey.

"So . . . you said you were staying at the dig site. Where?" Allison asked, as she handed a box to Ellie.

Ellie cleared her throat, but didn't offer an answer right away.

"If you don't want to tell me, that's fine."

"No, it's not that. It's just a very awkward thing, that's all."

"Awkward?"

Ellie decided to confess . . . a little.

"I've been staying in one of the trailers."

"Yeah?"

"Near Dr. Grant."

Allison was somewhat thrown off by that. She knew that Ellie and Alan had some sort of a chemistry going on. She had witnessed that on several occasions. But she really didn't expect them to be staying in the same area.

"Really?"

Ellie's feelings were at a crossroads. Part of her was happy that some of this was out in the open with her good friend. Yet, another part of her was worried about how this would make Alan look.

"Yes. We've become . . . good friends . . . in the last couple of weeks. He's a wonderful teacher and I've learned a lot from him."

"I bet you have," Allison said, harassing her.

Ellie didn't answer again, but Allison could tell, by the broad smile on her friend's face, that she was enjoying her "learning" experience. Finally, Ellie commented.

"Let's just get you moved in, okay? I'll explain everything later," Ellie said. She happened to glance out a window, "And look. The rain has mostly stopped. Let's get more boxes in here."

Allison laughed again, as she moved past Ellie and began to go downstairs for more boxes. Ellie followed her. They got to the van that Allison had rented to transfer her belongings.

"Let's bring in the bigger furniture things right now, just in case it starts to rain again," Allison suggested.

Ellie nodded and grabbed hold of one end of a small table. They carefully carried it up the staircase.

"Ellie, I won't bother you about Alan anymore. I know you'll tell me when you're ready," Allison said, as they made it back inside the apartment.

"Thanks for understanding," Ellie said.

"What are friends for?" Allison said.

Ellie nodded. They stopped talking about Alan and spent the rest of the afternoon, moving Allison's things.

A couple of hours later, Ellie went up the staircase for what seemed like the 100th time. In her arms was Allison's last box. She walked into the apartment.

"Here you go," she said, gently setting it down next to the couch.

Allison was in the bedroom, arranging come clothes. There was an extra bedroom that Ellie had been using for storing larger things, like a bike she had purchased and some camping supplies. That's the bedroom that Allison was taking over.

"So, are you hungry? I'll buy, since you've been nice enough to help me," Allison asked.

Ellie checked her watch. It was 7:13pm. She was hungry, but she wanted to get back to the dig site. Alan should have been back by now and she wanted nothing more than to meet up with him.

"I think I'm going to head out. I've got some things to get together before I get to the dig site tomorrow."

"That's okay. The offer stands though, whenever you want to collect on it," Allison offered.

Ellie smiled and excused herself from the apartment. She quickly got into her car and began the drive back to the dig site. The time of day was just beautiful. The sun was gleaming down on the countryside, casting very nice shadows on the scenery.

Alan struggled to open his eyes, as he attempted to adjust to the bright sunlight beaming down upon him. He blinked a few times and tried to get his bearings back. All he could see were trees, all around him, except for one direct beam of sunlight streaming through them. He remembered sliding off the embankment and he remembered coming to an abrupt stop, and then free falling. Trying to guess how long he was unconscious was tough. The last he remembered, it had been raining. But, now it was sunny and his clothes were just damp, not soaked through. As he tried to come to terms with what had happened, he realized he was on his back, sprawled out on the uneven ground. He lifted up his head very slowly and looked around. Then he started to sit up, and that's when a rush of pain flowed through his body. He wrapped a hand around his right side and winced, as he continued to sit up. As he started to adjust to what had happened, it was evident that most of the pain was coming from his leg, so that was the obvious starting point to investigate. He finished sitting up, and took a closer look at his right leg. It wasn't resting in a normal position. In fact, he was quite astounded to see that it was turned awkwardly at the knee. He tried to bend a little bit closer, but the pain jabbed at him again, so he leaned back. He just sat there for about ten minutes, doing nothing but breathing very rhythmically, hoping that he would be able to stop the short gasps of breath he was experiencing now. When he felt like he might be able to sit up again, he did so, and was able to pull up a very small amount of his pant leg. He was horrified by what he saw. In fact, he thought he might be hallucinating. There, just above the ankle, in the now exposed part of his bare leg, was a very large white bone, punching through the skin and sticking out about a half-inch or so. He began to feel sick to his stomach, as he continued to stare at the visible break. He couldn't seem to take his eyes from it, as if it were some dream that he couldn't get his mind to release from. The only thing convincing him that it was really happening, was that he was feeling sicker and sicker, in addition to his increasing dizziness.

He put his hands on the ground behind him and took a quick glance around. The truck was quite a distance away from him, turned on its side and leaning up against a rather large tree. After thinking more clearly, he knew there had been a portable radio in the truck, and so he attempted to slowly scoot his body toward the truck. It didn't work as he expected. The pain was much too intense to keep dragging his leg across the uneven ground. He stopped and tried to think of another solution, as the pain caused tears in his eyes.

His big solution was to lie back down and not move. That seemed to be working well for him, but he knew he needed to get help. He sat up again, wincing as he did so. He tried to stop thinking about the pain, which wasn't easy. He gritted his teeth, took a very deep breath, and began to move toward the overturned truck. It was during this time that he realized the extent of his other injuries. His left wrist was swollen and hurting, there was blood streaming down his face from a painful laceration above his left eye, and it felt as though he might have some cracked ribs. But it was obvious which injury would slow him down the most . . . the leg.

After about fifteen minutes, he managed to reach the truck. There was a gap between the ground and the passenger door, where the tree had stopped the truck from going totally over onto its side. He wiped sweat from his eyes and reached for the handle of the door. He heard the desired "click" of the door, and then it swung open. Gravity made it come down faster than he anticipated, just barely missing his head. He flinched and then sighed with relief, very happy not to have sustained yet another senseless injury. He grabbed the door for support and pulled himself up . . . and screamed in pain. Then came the swearing. The farther he pulled himself into the turned over truck, the more he swore, as the pain became worse and worse.

He situated himself the best he could and began the desperate search for the portable radio. To his dismay, he found no such thing. It must have been thrown from the truck, just as he had. A few more swear words later, Alan ended up back on the ground where he had started, with nothing more to show for it. He stayed right there, leaning against the truck, trying to figure out what to do next.

Still slumping over next to the disabled truck, he suddenly had a coherent thought in amongst the cobwebs.

"A second radio," he whispered to himself.

He sat still, trying to remember where he had put the back-up radio. The best he remembered, it was in the storage toolbox in the flatbed. He reached up and grabbed the opened truck door and pulled himself up again. After more swearing, he managed to balance on his left leg, while glancing in the direction of the truck bed. He couldn't see into the back yet, but hopes were high that the storage toolbox would still be there. He closed the truck door, and using the overturned truck as leverage, he painfully hopped toward the rear of the truck. He glanced inside and soon after . . . more swearing, as the toolbox was no longer there either. He scanned the area for signs of the toolbox, but it was nowhere to be seen. He couldn't think of anything else to do. The sweat was pouring from his face and just those few hops had exhausted him. He thought about sitting back down, but he shook that thought from his mind. Since he was already standing, he thought it better to stay that way.

He took a closer look at his immediate surroundings. In particular, the tree that his truck was leaning against. It was a tall tree, probably close to forty feet high, and it had many branches coming from it. Many strong branches, sprouted out surprisingly close to where he was located. He decided to try for one of those branches. If he could make some sort of crutch to help himself get around better, that would be much better than what he was doing so far. Hopping was not going to work for very long.

Ellie had gone to eat alone, since Alan wasn't at the dig site when she had returned. It was a late dinner, so when she returned to the dig site, she was certain that he would be there. He wasn't though, which puzzled her somewhat. He was rarely gone this long after dark and she was starting to wonder about his whereabouts.

She turned the car off and went inside his trailer. Maybe he had returned and had left a note or something. Maybe he was with Rob and she had just missed him. Maybe, maybe, maybe. She was beginning to get worried, as she hurried inside and searched for a note. There was nothing. After quickly looking through the trailer, she ran back outside, looking for some people to question. There was always a little party going on somewhere on the grounds. She just needed to find it. Parties were never close to Alan's trailer, because they all knew how he didn't like noise when he was working or sleeping in there.

She walked quite a long way before she finally began to hear laughter and talking. She hurried in that direction until she finally saw a few people. She approached the nearest person, who she didn't even recognize.

"Have you seen Rob or Alan?" she asked him.

He looked at her, but didn't seem to understand a word that she said. He was a little too drunk to understand the English language. She moved onto the next person. She was about to question that person, when she noticed that Allison was sitting on a chair a little farther away. She reached her.

"Have you seen Alan or Rob?"

"Rob was here, but he left about a half an hour ago. He said he was going home."

"What about Alan?"

"Haven't seen him. Why?" Allison asked.

"I, uh, was supposed to meet up with him tonight . . . about something," Ellie said. She didn't really want to get into all of the details in front of all these people, about how she and Alan had developed a relationship right under everyone's noses. "He never showed up."

"Maybe he's sleeping."

"No, he wasn't in his trailer," Ellie said somewhat desperately.

Allison noticed the seriousness in her voice.

"Ellie, what's wrong? Is he missing or something?"

"I think he is. Yes," Ellie said, trying to hold back the fear in her voice.

"Well, let's go call Rob. Maybe he's over there," Allison suggested.

Ellie nodded and the women quickly made it back to Alan's trailer. As they went inside, Allison noticed that Ellie had a key. She smiled, still not totally accepting the situation Ellie had confessed to earlier that evening, in the apartment.

Ellie called Rob and after six long and antagonizing rings, he finally answered.

"Hello?"

"Rob. It's Ellie. Is Alan there with you, by any chance?"

"No. Haven't seen him since this morning."

"Neither have I."

"It's nearly midnight. He's never gone this long," Rob thought aloud.

Ellie could hear the worry in Rob's voice, too. That made her feel better, knowing that she hadn't just been overreacting.

"And he told me he would be back by 8 or so," she added.

"There isn't a note from him anywhere?" Rob asked.

"No. Nothing. I'm getting worried. Should we call someone?"

"I don't know. He could just show up any minute, I guess."

"Yeah, but what if he doesn't?" Ellie asked.

Under the blanket of night, a lone man could be seen limping quite slowly, trudging through the uneven terrain. Alan had successfully made a crutch of sorts out of the tree branches and had been able to make it to a mountain path. He was somewhat mobile, but he really wasn't making a whole lot of progress. He had torn a sleeve from his shirt, tying it securely around his broken leg. He had screamed out in agony while doing that, but now his leg was almost totally numb, with just small intense shots of pain every couple of minutes. He didn't dare put very much weight on it, as he limped along. What was bothering him the most were his ribs. They were badly bruised, with some of them possibly broken. He had broken a few ribs as a teenager, never forgetting how it had felt. And it felt that way now. Every time he put weight on the crutch, great pain would shoot up and down both sides of his body. There was also that added annoyance of having to breathe, which seemed to hurt him, too. The other problem he was having was the lack of warmth in his body. The damp clothes he was still wearing were making him shiver now that the sun had disappeared.

He stopped and reached for a rock that was sticking out of the mountain, making a ledge of sorts. He turned to see how far he had gotten. He couldn't see the truck anymore, but that was probably because it was dark. If he stopped here to rest and then woke up in the morning and saw that damned truck in the distance, that would really mess with his will to survive. He decided to keep going.