It starts getting light about 5:30 a.m. and by 6:00 a.m. both Derrick and Dane are up. I don’t really want to waste time eating breakfast; I just want to load up the car and get out of here. Derrick and Dane agree, so we start picking up camp and loading the SUV. As we are taking down the tent, Derrick is surprised to find what appears to be blood splattered on the back side of our tent. The funny thing about the blood is the texture. It is a reddish brown color with big clumps or clots in it. It kind of reminds me of a small curd cottage cheese mixed in with the blood. Dane picks up a stick, gets a small zip lock bag, and pushes a small sample of the blood into the bag.
“I have a friend at the Royal Darwin Hospital Lab Facility; I am going to bring this back for her to analyze. I have never seen blood like this,” Dane says, as he slips the bag in his pocket and throws the stick in the hot coals of the fire. Then he gets an old rag, a bottle of Windex, and cleans the blood off the tent. He throws that rag into the hot coals too.
“I have been out here most of my adult life, and something is not right. The balance of nature seems off to me. I can’t put my finger on it, but something is wrong here.”
Hearing Dane say the words really sends a shiver up and down my spine. I am getting a sense that something terrible is about to happen.
We get the car loaded and start to leave the National Park when we hear sirens and see a helicopter coming in for landing not far from where we are. We pile into the car and on our way out of the National Park we see a couple of ambulances on the side of the road. Dane opens the window and slows down. There is a park ranger along with the state and local police there, so Dane tries to find out what happened by asking one of the officers.
“Good morning Officer. I am a guide in these parts and am curious about what has happened here. Is it something I need to be concerned about with my customers?”
Officer Dillon tells him that a family was attacked and killed last night by a pack of wild dogs or dingoes. The father was dragged at least 100 yards from the campsite and brutally bitten over and over. The mother was hauled out of the tent and found behind their automobile. She had been bitten in the neck so badly, that her head was almost severed. The three year old boy was still in the tent. It appears as though they were in the process of eating him because part of his stomach area had been eaten away. Something must have scared them away. Another camper found the husband and called the ranger station to come investigate.
“Oh, that is terrible. We had some visitors in our camp site last night as well. I didn’t get a good look at them, but I’m pretty sure they were dingoes. They were probably the same ones. We found tracks in our campsite yesterday afternoon after returning from canoeing and didn’t think much about it. Things were messed up, and empty food containers were everywhere; but an attack of this magnitude is unheard of around here.”
“You’re right. I can’t remember ever hearing about a dingo attack around here. Why are they so aggressive all of a sudden?”
“I don’t know; it’s weird. Do you mind if I have a look at the campsite where the family was attacked? I am curious about the footprints, if they are the same.”
“Hang on a minute; I’ll check with the crime scene investigator.”
Officer Dillon walks over to the campsite and speaks with a tall, slender man in his mid-fifties. The two of them start walking back toward our vehicle. The tall man stops at Dane’s window and leans over.
“I’m sorry sir, but I can’t let you go into the crime scene. We actually have a tracker on hand looking at the prints right now and he said they are the prints of a dingo. He was able to identify three distinct sets of prints based on paw size. If you are camping around these arts, I would be especially careful.”
Dane thanks the man and Officer Dillon. Not a word is spoken in the car for at least ten minutes. We are processing what the man and Officer Dillon said to us and are having trouble believing it. Dingoes? How could this group of people, this family, all be dead? That could have been us! In my mind I keep playing the scene over and over and finally have to shake my head and push it out of my mind. Terrible!
“Derrick, I really want to go with Dane to the lab when he gets that blood tested. Do you mind putting the trip on hold for a few days?” I ask.
“No, I don’t mind at all; in fact, I’m just as curious as you are,” Derrick answers.
“Dane, you don’t mind if Kobi and I go with you to the lab, do you? We are very curious about the blood.”
“No problem,” he says. “You are more than welcome to join me.” Dane pulls out his cell phone and makes a phone call to his friend Nicola. Dr. Nicola Reese is a Hematologist on staff at the Royal Darwin Hospital.
“Nicola, this is Dane. I’m good, thanks. Listen, I have a sample of some blood I found at our campsite this morning that I would like you to look at, if you have time. It is the strangest blood I have ever seen. We are on our way to Darwin right now. Can you see us today?” There is a pause, “10:00 a.m. sounds perfect. See you then.”
“How do you know Nicola?” asks Derrick.
“Believe it or not, she and I went to junior high school together. She was one grade ahead of me. I remember the first day of seventh grade--we started the day with a general assembly of all the students. She was in the eighth grade and the President of the eighth grade debate team. I had a crush on her the entire year, but was afraid to tell her because I knew she wouldn’t want to date a seventh grader. I didn’t give her a chance to turn me down. I figured she was probably like all the other eighth grade girls--stuck up because she was so pretty; but I was wrong. I mustered up the nerve to talk to her and found out that she was a very nice girl. We became the best of friends and discovered that we lived within blocks of each other. We hung out all summer long and remained the best of friends through the years. Even through medical school, she managed to keep in touch with me. Good friends like that are hard to find.”
“Was there ever anything romantic between you two?” I ask.
“No, never. We liked each other as friends. Even when we were dating other people, we double dated a lot.”
“That’s pretty cool, Dane. Is she married?”
“No. She is too focused on career to even date, much less marry.”