Lost Voyage by Chris Tucker

rang a few times, a voice answered on the other end and he spoke.
    “Kervin, come back to the compound at once. I have something I need you to do.”
     
    ***
     
    Arriving early in the afternoon to the site, Mercer and Vigil began doing a little reconnaissance of the area, but turned up nothing.
    “Luck doesn’t appear to be on our side,” said Mercer.
    Vigil was standing on top of a tree stump, staring off into the distance. “Not at all. Unless you count finding fossilized volcanic rock lucky. Why don’t we head a little further down? We might find something that’ll give us at least a glimmer of hope.”
    Mercer agreed and they started walking down a trail to take them further inland. As they traversed the area, he began recalling the events of the past few days. He thought about what he and his partner would find – if anything. He wondered how long it would be before the man they had confronted would return for them, and how many soldiers there might be the next time.
    On the forefront of his mind was Emily. He was assured she was safe and on her way home and he hoped he would indeed get to see her again one day soon. He was carefully scanning the trees and brush of the jungle for any signs of the possible remnants of Tamarindo, when Vigil broke the silence.
    “What’s on your mind, partner?”
    “Just think. We’re possibly standing on top of a goldmine. What if the Alyssa Marie didn’t make it out safely before the eruption? There’s not only the ship and the gold that was lost, but all those aboard who perished as well. If we do somehow manage to find the wreckage from a disaster that occurred over a century and a half ago, there’s a lot more to recover than just some lost gold.”
    Vigil, taking in his friend’s comment, responded, “If the impact shattered the ship, the remains could be spread out over a mile or more. Add to that how much debris and rock it’s buried under. Then there’s the logistical aspect to weigh. How do we get ten thousand pounds of gold out of a jungle? And more importantly, how do we do it with a cavalry of mercenaries following our every move?”
    Mercer shrugged whimsically. “I haven’t quite figured that out yet. Let’s see if we can find the ship first. Then we’ll worry about the particulars.”
    For the next forty five minutes, they continued to explore the complex terrain, finding visible signs of volcanic rock and solidified ash composts. They came to a clearing, which opened into a grassy field that was about fifty yards to the tree line on the other side.
    The cloud cover overhead was just enough to give them a break from the sun that had beamed down on them for the past week. While scanning the open area, they noticed a larger mound which instantly caught their eyes, as it was in much higher proportion to the rest of the field.
    Carefully examining the area and finding nothing of interest, they gradually wandered over to the protruding grassy hill. Vigil threw his backpack to the ground and climbed on top of the six foot mound, proclaiming, “King of the hill! I’ll take on all challengers to the throne!”
    Mercer laughed. “Alright, King Nothing. I accept your challenge.”
    Like two kids in a schoolyard, they bantered with each other for a minute before any actual tactical moves were made. Mercer began easing his way up the hill, while Vigil took steady and careful aim of his attacker, waiting for the right time to pounce from his perch above.
    Mercer flinched to the left, causing the King to twist his body just enough to get him off balance, and then quickly jerked to the right where he caught his friend by surprise with a leg tackle. Vigil fell backwards and tried to roll his attacker down the hill, but the brute strength of his partner was too much to overcome. Vigil grabbed him by the waist, flipped him upside down, and watched as his friend tumble to the bottom of the hill.
    To add insult to injury, he leaped off his throne to deliver a final