Blood and Sand (8 page)

17

None of us speak, we just stare. About 50 feet in front of us is a sloping ramp that has been dug and cleared to allow the monstrous excavation equipment in. The slanted entry into the cleared pit is roughly 10 feet below us and it is huge. The new site is now an expanse of leveled sand about the size of an Olympic sized pool—around 80 feet in width and twice that in length.

At the heart of the pit is a gleaming stone slab, which is the size of a basketball court—about 90 by 50. Except, it’s not stone.
It’s a darker shade of gold or maybe a bronze color,
I think. But, there is more than just the color of the stone or metal or whatever the hell it is that has everyone’s attention. There is writing all over it, all the ancient languages of the world.

Just like the photo Omar sent Dad,
I think.  

Instead of coming up with something groundbreaking or halfway intelligent, all I say is, “Um…” I mean honestly, what other reaction could I come up with to what I’m seeing? But, I don’t feel so bad since I’m the only one who has said anything at this point, even if it was just an incoherent mumble. It’s so quiet that you could probably hear a camel fart, even the wind has ominously died down some.

“Is that gold?” I look over to see that it was Kane who spoke up. He is looking at my father for an answer.

“No, it is not,” A voice to our left breaks the unnerving silence, catching our attention. A female voice laced with a European accent. “We actually have no idea what it is. Yet.”

She steps out from the shadow of the tent next to the one we’re in, out into the sun. It’s then I get a look at her, or should I say I get to ogle her. She is absolutely stunning and tall for the average woman. She stands just under six-foot and is very how should I say…curvy. She’s basically Scarlett Johansson with UFC Champion Ronda Rousey’s muscle tone. 

“We are currently analyzing different types of stone and metal and still have found nothing,” says the newcomer in what I now recognize as a crisp Swedish accent. “If this current search brings up nil, we may be at a stalling point we cannot afford.”

“You have no idea,” Kane says under his breath.

The Swede is about to inquire about his comment but I don’t let her, a realization popping into my head.

“Orichalcum,” I say.

Everyone’s eyes turn to me. 

“Ori-what-now?” Kane asks scratching his head.

I blink, take a breath, and come out of my stupor, “I think its orichalcum. In many Atlantean legends orichalcum is as valuable as gold. It’s even more valuable to some because of its supposed bronze-alloy make up, which would have been great for making weapons and armor.”   

“Bronze you say?” Our new lady friend continues. “No wonder we couldn’t detect anything. We haven’t been using the correct procedures to analyze that particular metal. We have been focusing on gold so far.”

“Nicole, could you please let the rest of the team know we are here and then rejoin us below?” He asks and motions to the pit.

Nicole? Well at least our mystery guest has a name.

“Yes sir, Dr. Boyd. Anything else?”

“No, Ms. Andersson. Thank you.”

She turns on-a-heel and marches away towards another tent around to the left of the excavation, shouting orders all the way to her destination.

Again, no one speaks, so I get to break the silence for a second time.

“So, who’s she?” I ask.

“She is your father’s assistant and also his project leader,” Omar says with a look of annoyance. “Nicole Andersson is Dr. Boyd’s right hand man, or should I say, woman.” He annunciates it as
WO-man
trying to be funny. He fails miserably.

“Not used to being bossed around by a female, are you there Jafar?” Kane says, digging into Omar. Referring to him as Aladdin’s nemesis from the famous Disney movie, may not be such a good move considering the ease in which Omar gets worked up. That doesn’t mean I’m not laughing on the inside though.

The joke must be enough because Omar huffs and puffs, but senses he’s outmatched. He then turns and heads back into the tent we just exited, slamming the flap.
Can you slam a tent flap?
     

“That’s enough, Mr. Kane,” Dad says disapprovingly. “We still need him and his local connections here cooperating regardless of what you think of him.”

Kane glances over at me and we share an inward giggle.

“On another subject, Mr. Kane, could you please join Ms. Andersson and go over with her the site’s security and make sure it’s up to your standards?”

This gets the big man’s attention. Regardless of how nonchalant his attitude is, he is a professional at what he does. Kane just nods and purposefully heads off in the direction Nicole did.

This leaves just me and my father, alone. He turns and see’s that I’m now a little uncomfortable with the current state of things. My dad and I don’t really get a lot of alone time together. It’s never been a calming experience in the past. We fight over the stupidest things when it’s just the two of us.

“Shall we, Harrison?” he motions with his hand towards the slab of orichalcum, getting my attention, erasing the awkwardness.

I smile, “Yes, we shall.”

We head down towards the
ori-what-now,
as Kane so eloquently called it.

Could this be just another tomb or possibly a treasure trove of sorts?
No. It all seems a little off. We’ve done those things. This just feels different. I can almost feel some sort of presence in the air. Or make that
two
presences. I can sense what feels like a game of tug-o-war going on in my body. Like my soul is being pulled in two different directions.

I glance at Dad and see him walking towards the discovery. Nothing seems to be bothering him. Or at least he isn’t letting on to it. I’m not sure.

All I know is that this is going to be a find like none we’ve ever well…found. An experience we will never forget for sure. We walk towards the center portion, stepping onto the bronze-alloy based metal, which gives me shivers up my back.

We get to the exact middle and stop. I look down and see an odd combination of symbol and language intertwined together. There’s a Latin inscription framed by a Greek omega.

I step into the horseshoed character reading the text, “Liberate te ex inferis—”

“Save yourself from hell,” Dad says translating it aloud as I do.

We meet eye-to-eye in confusion and—

Then I get another strange tingle up my spine and a feeling of slight nausea in my gut as a new sensation overtakes my body, one of falling. I look down and see nothing but darkness beneath my feet.

18

I’m weightless—on second thought—I’m not weightless, I’m not moving at all! I’m being suspended above the massive hole beneath me. My senses come back to life, the feeling of falling subsiding, and I snap back to reality, and back into my precarious situation.

My wrist feels like a vise has clamped down on to it as I now dangle over lord knows how deep of a void by just a sweaty set of fingers. Looking up, I see my father’s red, straining face. I can also feel his arm trembling and his grip weakening. Not good.

“Hang on, son! Kane! Anybody, please! Help!” Dad shouts out behind him trying to get someone’s attention. The strain and fear in his voice making it plainly obvious to those who heard that he isn’t fooling around. From my point of view I can see his reddening face and clenched jaw, both a telling sign that he’s doing everything he can to prevent me from disappearing into the ominous black below.

From down in what I now figure is some sort of trap door, I hear a murmur of voices from above. I can also hear the pounding of feet on sand and then the same on the metal slab. A grunt and a thump arrive just before Kane slides into view.

“Hank, give me your other hand!” Kane yells reaching down for me with his bear-sized paw.

“Dr. Boyd when I grab him you let go and grab my belt from behind and pull!”

I swing my left hand up in a pathetic arc, missing the offered hand by six inches. The second attempt is closer, grazing Kane’s fingertips, but to no avail. My right hand slips and I lunge a third time, finally connecting.

An instant later, a crushing embrace twice what Dad could do, wraps around my left wrist. I almost screech in pain, but I’m a little preoccupied.

As Kane steadies himself, Dad scurries away and gives the all clear that he’s ready to pull. Kane starts to lift me out, with
one
hand! I’m almost 200 pounds of dead weight and sweat, and this guy is slowly lifting me out of a hole. The pressure building in my good shoulder is almost too much to take. If it was my right shoulder I’d be wailing in agony for sure. Hanging by my right arm was tolerable, but being pulled apart like I am now would have been too much a bare.

“NOW!” Kane yells.

Suddenly, I’m jerked up and out of this horribly close call with death and land right on top of Kane. I grunt and moan in pain as my shoulder was just seconds away from dislocating, and boy do I know what
that
feels like. Reliving the pain I felt when I busted my shoulder ten years ago is not something I want to go through ever again, especially out here with no hospital close by.

As I roll off him and try to catch my breath, I see that he landed on not only Dad, but on top of Nicole as well. She slides out from under Kane and my father and stands and just stares at me, like it’s my fault I almost fell into an ancient death trap.

“You okay?” She finally asks, the look of anger and fright switching to that of concern.

I nod my head still unable to speak, the pain radiating out from my shoulder, all the way to my fingers. I fix my arm, shaking it, as I try ease back some of the stress in the appendage.

Nicole checks with the others and then turns to leave, back towards the incline.

“Wait,” I say dragging myself to my feet, clutching my shoulder like it’s an egg from the golden goose. I cross the base of the orichalcum slab to where Nicole is standing, her back to me. I put my hand on her shoulder and she glances back over it so we meet, eye to eye.

“Thank you,” It’s all I can say, but its 100% genuine.

Her eyes dart back to the square hole in the orichalcum, where the omega symbol used to be, and then back up to me.

“What happened?” She’s sincere with her caring of what just occurred, but like me and everyone else involved she’s also curious as to what exactly just transpired just now.

“Some kind of trap door,” I reply, running the possibilities through my head. “Or perhaps some kind of hidden entrance.” She nods in agreement, with which of my answers I don’t know, but I’ve already lost interest in that conversation, my mind has struck something else.

“Do we have climbing gear and a heavy duty winch on hand?” I ask.

She nods, “Why?”

Seeing the twinkle of mischief in my eye, Nicole just nods again and sprints away back towards one of the many tents. I can hear her again shouting orders to a few of the men as well, but this time with more gusto…if that’s even possible.

“What are you up to, son?”

I turn and find Kane helping my father up. He dusts himself off and rolls his neck side-to-side, clearly sore from the dog pile. He hasn’t figured out my plan yet, but someone else has.

Kane’s eyes are wide in what looks like fear and wonder. He looks down towards my near grave and says a low tone, “He’s going back in.”

19

“You can’t be serious! You almost died and you now want to climb back in?”

I’m stepping into a climbing harness provided by Nicole, doing my best to ignore my father’s rant. He’s none-to-pleased about me wanting to explore the newly found space. 

“I want to find out
why
I almost died and who is responsible,” I say. “Plus, it’s kind of why we’re here isn’t it?”

Dad isn’t listening to me, so Nicole, who is already in a second harness, looks up at him, “Dr. Boyd, we are here to find out what exactly we have here, yes?” She snaps the last of the buckles on my left leg’s support and stands. “Yes, Hank almost fell, but we still have a job to do. We have all the necessary equipment and man power. There is nothing else we can learn from up here.” Her crisp tone deflates Dad’s outburst. He relents and closes his eyes, dropping his chin to his chest, defeated.

“Dad?” I say in a solemn tone. He looks up and sees me face to face with him. “I wouldn’t do this if I thought it would end badly. Either way someone has to go down there, right? Why not me? Isn’t that why I’m here?”

He slowly nods. His body language looks tired and beaten.

“Look, you and Omar stay topside for now and figure out what all this says. We only have a small portion of it recorded. Nicole, Kane and I will take a little spelunking tour below and be as careful as possible.” I give his shoulders a squeeze, but he grabs me and hugs me. I just stand there not returning the embrace. This isn’t exactly in character for him.

“Just come back to me, okay?” He lifts his now tear filled eyes and for the first time in years I see true emotion from the man.

“Dad, I’m fine. You saved me just now.”

“I was about to drop you, Hank. If Kane hadn’t arrived there when he did…”

Wait a sec. Hank? Did he just call me Hank? I’m thrown off by this, I’m not even sure he knows he called me that. I’m about to comment on it, but decide it’s not the time.

“The point is I’m alive because you hung on for as long as you did.” I pat his face. “Imagine if you weren’t there…” I let the last part hang in the air for a moment.

He nods and stands up straighter getting some of his resolve back.

“Why don’t you get some rest and go check on Omar. I think Kane may have hurt his feelings a little.”

This actually gets a chuckle out of him.

“What can I say? Omar is a little thin skinned for you boys.” He smiles at me then he reaches out for Kane’s hand, “Thank you, Mr. Kane. I am in your debt.” Then looks to Nicole, “And yours.” He gives me a curt nod and heads back up the ramp and into the main examination tent.

Nicole steps up beside me, “You okay?”

I choke out my words a little taken back by my Dad’s sudden emotional outpouring, “Yeah…I’m fine. Shall we?” 

“You want my hankie?” Kane asks with a little boyhood teasing infused into the jab.

“Um, no, it’s filled with fat-guy sweat remember?” I quip and give him a hard knock in the shoulder, a smile blooming on my face. He looks as though he’s about to protest my calling him fat, of which he obviously isn’t, but I don’t give him the chance.

“Get the winch up and going, will ya’?”

The winch system is hooked up to a massive dump truck which rumbled into place a few minutes before Dad’s tirade

I whistle with admiration over the sheer size of the thing. It could easily hold a bus on the other end let alone a few people.

“Well, it’s big enough,” I say still staring at the monstrous house sized vehicle.

“Just a little precaution on my end,” Kane answers.

“How much cable do you have?” I ask.

Nicole answers, “Each of our three trucks on hand is equipped with 500 feet of cable, why?”

I step up to the 5 x 5 opening in the orichalcum slab and take a glow stick out of my pocket. I crack the long slender rod and shake it, the fluorescent orange glow growing brighter with each agitation. Once the chemical mix is at its peak, I hold out my arm and drop it into the unknown and watch it, counting the whole way.

As I get
past
the desired distance and keep counting, it finally stops, barely visible on the floor of what must be a huge chasm. I look back at the others, “Because, we’re going to need more.”

“How much more?” Nicole asks.

“Give or take, another 500 feet,” I answer a little shocked.

“Are you kidding? 1,000 feet deep! What the hell is this place?” Kane exclaims. “You do realize that’s 100 stories
down
?” he finishes, shaking his head.

“Has anything ever been discovered that deep that wasn’t a natural formation?” Kane asks.

I shrug, “No idea. I doubt it though.”

I step back away from the 1,000 foot drop and clench my teeth. I look down at my hands and see them shaking a little. It’s not much, but it’s enough.

Geez,
I think.
Get a hold of yourself, we aren’t even in the hole yet
.

I turn.

“Nicole, how long before our A-Frame is up and ready?”

“The engineers are finalizing construction now and will install it shortly. So…” She checks her watch, “Maybe twenty minutes before we descend—thirty tops.”

“Alright guys, let’s use that time to finish suiting up and get our gear in order.” I look to Nicole. “I assume you have travel packs with food and supplies on hand, ready to go?”

She nods.

Kane finishes locking everything in place on the truck wench and stands.

“I’ll get another spool rigged and get our stuff, Hank.” He then heads back to the examination tent where we left our own packs.

“So what’s his story?” Nicole asks staring at me with a raised eyebrow but motioning to Kane.

“Him? He’s on loan from the government—most likely the CIA. Haven’t gotten him to cough up that much yet.” I tug on my harness, thoroughly inspecting it. “He’s sort of like our personal one man army. Met him in the hospital after the attack in Algiers and he’s been glued to us ever since. Hates being referred to as,
the muscle,
or anything that implies he has bricks for brains. We are his new assignment.”

“Must be nice,” Nicole says, a newfound look of respect for the big guy on her face.

“Yes and no,” I answer. “Yes, because, we have some back up just in case something else happens.”

“And no?” She asks.

“No, because…I’m not sure I want to be around when Mount Kane blows his top.” I give her a smile.

“So, does he?” She asks.

“Does he what?”

“Does he have bricks for brains?” She asks with a sly tone.

“Funny enough, no. He’s very sharp…in a clumsy Shrek kind of way.”

A beat of silence goes by, just the hum of electricity and the desert breeze.

“What about you?” I ask.

“What do you mean?”

“What’s your story? Why are you here?”

She looks away, a little uncomfortable with the question.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, it’s fine.” She looks back to me. “I met your father a few years back on a project in Spain. Nothing special, just a small dig near the coast. My husband was his project leader at the time…”

My eyes go wide. I know this story.

Four years ago Dad was called to Spain by a colleague in Europe. He said they may have found something of significance, but needed his expertise. His project leader, Tomas Andersson, another Swede, was already there getting everything in order, just like Nicole was doing here. Dad got the call ten-minutes after his plane landed. There was an attack on the site by an unknown party, no one was said to survive, except Nicole, who they found shot and left for dead next to her already murdered husband. The site was ransacked and everything of value stolen and everything else was torched.

I didn’t hear anything about the woman after that. I assumed she recovered and went about putting her life back together. I was
so
wrong.

She finishes and I’m about to say something, but she cuts me off.

“Before you ask,
no
, I don’t know who attacked our camp.”

I have my mouth hanging open like a guppy, not having anything to ask now. Then something hits me.

“What did you find in Spain that required my father being flown out on less than no notice to go see?”

“We found a coin,” she says.

“A coin?” I ask a little surprised.

“Not just any coin, Mr. Boyd.”

“Hank,” I say.

She nods, “Not just any coin, Hank.”

She pauses collecting her thoughts navigating through painful memories of tragedy, death and loss.

“My husband and I thought the coin was Atlantean.”

As soon as the word
Atlantean
leaves her mouth a single, shocking thought snaps into my mind.

Zero.