My Life with Death

Paleontological Site, Badlands National Park, Montana, June 8, 2007

 I had been in the desert for several weeks. We were excavating an area the size of Manhattan Island. It was grueling work in dry conditions. I have been on several excavations in Central Africa and Egypt, but no expedition was this demanding. But it wasn't difficult because of the working conditions, but because we haven't found anything valuable or groundbreaking yet, only small insects and mollusks. Although they were several million years old, they were practically wholly insignificant. I have maintained my drive and enthusiasm for this work, but our failure has been demotivating. We were only supposed to have the money from the guarantors for two days, and we needed to find anything worth it as quickly as possible. Otherwise, we would only be able to go out on excavations again for a short time, only that I would finance them all myself, which was impossible.

10:38 a.m.

I sat at the table in my tent and reviewed the materials, and the few finds we had dug up. They needed to be cleaned appropriately. While examining a map of the Badlands region, I heard something—trying to find some nooks and crannies scientists hadn't visited all these years.

"Doctor," called a voice from outside. I quickly ran out. I didn't think of anything. I was so hoping for a find. I ran several tens of meters. I ran fast. Desert dust floated into the air and settled on my clothes and hair. I ran up to a group of my students from a seminar on Practical Paleontology, which was one of many that I led at the university.

"Do you have anything?" I called breathlessly.

A group of people crowded over a piece of desert. Several of them had their backs to me. I didn't see what they were staring at so hypnotically.

"What's going on?" I said seriously.

"Doctor, you have to see this," one of them said.

The others retreated. I came closer. I couldn't believe what I saw there. At first, it all seemed like a bad joke. The students uncovered a human skull and several bones in the shallow grave. I knelt just above the body - or, instead, what was left of it. Curiosity did not give me. And I saw it right away.

"Call the police," I yelled at the young man behind me. "tell them it's a murder victim."

He looked incredulous. He probably thought I was joking or exaggerating the situation to get some police officers to the scene as quickly as possible. Or he thought I had gone crazy from being in the desert.

"Go," I emphasized.

"Yes... doctor," he stammered out and ran back to base camp.

"No one is allowed to touch anything," I told the others. "Everyone back off to a distance of at least five meters," I added.

I still didn't believe it myself. I was panting and wondering what to do next. I continued to examine the remains.

4:43 p.m.

I stayed where I found it. Everyone else went to the tents. I heard a grunt. I looked back in the direction where the sound was coming from. I looked up at the sky. A blue and white helicopter with the HMPD - Helena Montana Police Department - logo on the side was approaching us. I stared at her through my sunglasses. I covered my face with a flimsy beige scarf – which I wore around my neck – to protect against the desert dust and sand. My hair was blowing in the wind. The helicopter landed slowly among the caravans in the camp. The tent strongly resisted the force of nature. The pegs that nailed him to the sandstone ground held the ropes. Everything that was not attached flew down at least a piece. Papers, tools, samples, maps, furniture. The young – future – scientists tried to hold these objects, but they fought the wind that moved their bodies. When the plane landed and the propellers came to a complete stop, several people got out. Exactly three. Three men. Two stayed with the helicopter, and one went after my students and immediately towards me. When he was close enough to communicate with him, I looked him over from head to toe. He had very sharp facial features, chocolate skin, and muscles showing under his shirt.