Blood and Sand (9 page)

20

“Dad, you and Omar are coming with us. Get yourselves geared up and ready to drop in five.”

My father looks confused, the request throwing him off and Omar looks like he’s about to vomit. A lot.

“Absolutely not, Harrison. I’m not about to—”

“William,” interrupts a small voice from the corner of the tent.

Dad looks over and sees Nicole leaning against a table staring at the floor.

She looks up at Dad, her eyes wet, tears forming, “We think this could be related to Spain.” A look of pain shoots across her face, like it hurts to even mention the country.

This gets my father’s full attention considering it was
his
expedition that was lost and his friends that were killed. He walks over to Nicole and puts a fatherly hand on her shoulder.

“Harrison?” He asks, clearly wanting me to explain instead of making Nicole.

“We think Zero hit the dig site in Spain four years ago. Nicole said that she and Tomas believed the coin that was taken was Atlantean-made.”

Dad looks down at Nicole, “What? Why didn’t you say anything then?”

Nicole shrugs, “Because it was a professional death sentence if we announced it then. I mean Atlantis…really? Who would have believed us? But…in the end, we didn’t get deep enough into our examination to find out anything else.”

Cough.

We look over and see Kane fumbling with his hands.

“Yes, Mr. Kane? Would you like to share something?” Dad asks his tone serious.

“Zero did in fact attack your camp in Spain.”

If there were crickets in the desert you would have been able to hear them from a mile away. No one says a word. We all just stare at the big guy, waiting.

“Like I said before, we’ve been monitoring their actions for years and tracking their hits, but we had no idea what was taken from your dig. No one did. That is…until now,” He says motioning to Nicole. “I didn’t even know that she was a part of that excavation. She wasn’t on any type of roster or dossier that we saw.”

“She wasn’t on payroll,” Dad explained. “Just her husband. She came and helped us when she was on break from her studies in Germany.”

Nicole takes over, “I was twenty-two at the time and studying Maritime Archeology in Munich—specifically ancient seaside cultures. Atlantis was always a romantic idea of mine, but not now. It’s only brought me death and yours…” She tips her chin towards me, “Near death.”

Kane continues, “Believe me, if I had known about Nicole and her ties to you guys I would have used that intel earlier and come to the same conclusion. We may have saved some time and you wouldn’t have even stepped foot in the Algiers airport and almost been killed. We would have put two-and-two together and flown you in ourselves.”

“So that’s why those men were after us? They found out that we were spearheading the dig and wanted to intervene?” Dad asks.

“Looks that way,” Kane answers. “I’m sorry—“

“It’s not your fault,” I say. “You’ve done your job to the best of your knowledge. But, back to the mission at hand.”

“Yes, about that?” Omar asks. “Why do you need us?”

“I need him…” I say pointing at my Dad. “Because, he has more brains than any of us combined and we will have no way of contacting base camp from below. I want whatever info he has to be by my side at all times.”

“And me?” Omar asks again.

I look at Kane and Nicole and give them a wink, bringing a smile to Nicole’s somber face, “We need someone of your special ability to carry our equipment.”

Omar’s face reddens. He looks like an overinflated red balloon about to pop.

“Harrison!” Dad says in a voice that reminds me of when my high school principal used to yell at us for skateboarding on school grounds.

“Fine! Sorry! Look, Omar, we will probably need you to translate things along the way. Dad and I can handle some of the basic languages, but we may need you to help with some of the trickier ones, okay? Plus, you’re documenting the whole trip right? We’ll need you to record everything we find.”

Omar’s complexion finally comes back down to a normal tone. He still isn’t thrilled with the idea of repelling into a hole the depth of the Empire State Building.

I honestly don’t think any of us are.

21

The A-Frame positioned directly over the entrance kind of reminds me of a scene in Ghostbusters 2. Ray is hanging on a line slowly being lowered down a hole in the middle of a busy street, only to find a river of slime in an abandoned train station directly beneath him.

Hopefully, when I’m dangling like a worm on a hook there won’t be anything down there to make me yell, “Get me out of this hole!” The most noticeable difference in our situation compared to the supernatural eliminators from New York is that our frame is really, really big.

It stands at 20 feet tall and another 20 feet wide at its base. It’s pyramidal in shape and made of titanium. Nicole had the science team do a thorough scan of the ground below to make sure it was solid enough to hold the frame’s weight. They said that there were no more trap doors to fall through and that we
should
be safe. Should.

I look up at the peak of the fairly simple yet amazing piece of hardware, “Is that just a normal pulley system rigged to the top?” I was expecting something a little more modern and ingenious to be honest.

The pulley system is the same one you would find anywhere in the world except, this one is built to handle our gauge of cable, which is really thick. The overall design is basically the same though.

“Yep,” Kane says. “Why mess with what works? Mankind has been using these for thousands of years and they almost never fail.”

“Almost?” I say.
He had to say almost.

“Well, nothing’s perfect,” he says with a shrug.

“Thanks for the reassurance, bud.”

“Look, you dying here and now doing what you love is better than slowly rotting away in a hospital somewhere waiting for Thanatos to come calling!” Kane snaps.

I give him a shrug of my own, accepting his simple yet deep philosophy. Then I playfully ask, “Who’s Thanatos?”

“The Greek god of death. The Reaper,” Kane answers.

I’m about to ask how he knows who the Greek god of death is, but I guess it really doesn’t matter.

My silence puts him on the defensive, “I’m not just the muscle, you know! I read and research stuff too.”

Now I’m laughing, “No one said otherwise, man.”

“What’s so funny?” Nicole asks. She must have arrived while I was mid-giggle.

“Nothing,” Kane says sharply. “We almost ready?”

She pats her thighs, and not in a sexual way either. She has two guns strapped to her legs, each in a customized holster, perfect for a quick draw.

Kane’s eyes light up at the sight of the weapons, “You any good with those—”

Twin pistols snap up towards his face and load with a click, held firmly in each of Nicole’s steady hands.

“Shit!” Kane yells tripping backwards and falling on his butt. Normally a man with his background wouldn’t even flinch because of something like that, but I don’t think he was expecting her to be able to handle them as expertly as she just did. Even I twitched and they aren’t even pointed at me.

“Nicole, please,” Dad says coming up from her left and Omar from her right.

Kane relaxes, but is visibly embarrassed. He leans onto one elbow and looks up at me.

I’m doing my best not to crack up and burst out laughing at the man.

“Ruger SR22, lightweight and dependable. These bad-boys hold ten rounds each and come with something a little extra…” Twin beams appear on Kane’s chest as he lay prone on the ground, “A little modification to help with the aiming. Not that I need it.” She holsters
the boys
and helps Kane up.

Kane dusts himself off, “Damn woman, who are you, Lara Croft?”

I can tell by the blank look on her face that she doesn’t get the Tomb Raider reference. Apparently Kane sees it too.

“Aw, never mind,” he says a little frustrated. “So, is that a yes? We’re ready to get a move on?”

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Omar says obviously a little disheartened.

“I believe we can begin our journey to the center of the Earth,” Dad chimes, in quoting the title of his favorite classic novel. There even seems to be a little more pep in his step than normal.

“You feeling alright, Dad?” His mood change catching me off guard.

He smiles at me, “With everything that has happened I completely forgot why I got into Archaeology in the first place.”

“The chicks?” Kane jokingly says getting a laugh out of me and Nicole.

“Why yes, Kane. Harrison’s mother was a beauty like none I’ve seen since. A
real
treasure. But, that’s a conversation for another day.”

It’s the first time I’ve heard Dad call Mom by the nickname he gave her. They met in grad-school on a sponsored dig. He said he found “his treasure” that day and it stuck.

“Alrighty, Mr. Kane lead the way,” I say.

“Yes, Sir!” He mockingly answers with a salute and grabs hold of the cable extending into nothingness. He sighs and looks back at the rest of our party, “Down the rabbit hole?”

He gets a nod of encouragement from everyone and grabs his carabiner climbing clip. He clips it onto the cable and quickly re-explains the proper repelling technique he went over earlier.

“Don’t forget your gloves either. You’ll have zilch for skin after this if you forget them.” Then under his breath he says, “Let’s do this,” and leaps into the realm of the unknown.

22

The ear piercing scream made me flinch and almost fall when I touched down. Kane led the way with Dad, Omar, Nicole and finally myself bringing up the rear.

The plan was for everyone to land and disconnect from the cable, each of us would then fan out and draw our weapons, covering the next person. Only we didn’t plan on landing on a pile of mangled corpses…I didn’t see that coming.

When Nicole landed and moved to cover my approach, she tripped and stumbled on what appeared to be someone’s crushed sternum.             

Now, she’s kicking and thrashing, eyes wide in fright…not that I can blame her.

“Nicole, you’re fine. Breathe,” I say trying to get her under control.

What’s left of the rib cage is stuck around her ankle and won’t come off, even with all the dancing she’s doing. It ain’t budgin’.

“Gahhh. Okay. I’m fine, I’m fine,” She finally says calming her nerves. She re-aims her Ruger, obviously embarrassed and not in the mood to hear about it. What’s even more impressive is that she’s almost back to her cool, calm, and collected self…even with part of a dead body still attached to her foot.

“Okay. Lights,” I whisper and draw my gun.

Everyone cracks open their own glow sticks and throws them ten feet in front of themselves. A circle of orange illumination appears around us, a veritable light show in the dark space. What we see is both horrifying and confusing.

Bodies. Maybe a half-dozen or so of them—could be more—but the parts are everywhere. It would be almost impossible to tell exactly how many there are even if we did try to piece them back together and count. It looks like a tornado hit them and tore them apart or like what would happen if you fell from…

I look up, “No way.”

“What?” Omar asks, visibly twitching in fright.

I look at Kane who understands, “You don’t think?” I say pointing up.

He answers, “The missing Special Forces team. Ho-ly shit. Well, that solves one mystery.”

“They must have found this entrance and then got hit by a storm. You said there was one the night they went missing, right?” I ask.

He nods.

“Well, it looks like you’re not the only one to literally stumble upon the trap door,” Nicole says. “Thank goodness your dad was there to catch you.”

She finally removes the remnants of the long dead soldier from her boot and kicks it aside with a clatter and pulls out an LED flashlight clicking it on. Next, Nicole unfolds a strap and slides it onto her head like a sweatband. It kind of looks like she’s wearing a miner’s helmet—only without the helmet itself. We all follow suit and have a look around.

“Question,” Dad says. “How did the trap door reset itself and close the last time it opened?”

“Not sure. Maybe there’s a timer, or a pressure plate?” I reply. “Doesn’t really matter right now either way.”

“What happens if the door tries to close while we are down here? Omar asks. “We’ll be trapped.”

“It won’t,” Nicole says matter of fact. “I’m confident that the truck’s cable is too thick for that to happen. We should be fine.”

Should,
I think. I really hate that word.                 

“Yep. Damn. It’s definitely them,” Kane says. He’s kneeling beside one of the
more
intact bodies inspecting the remains. “Still doesn’t make sense though.”

“What doesn’t make sense?” Dad asks looking over Kane’s shoulder.

Kane continues, “How do some of the best soldiers in the world fall down a hole that you and Hank survived?” He stands, “I mean, at least one or two of them should have survived, right?”

I shrug, “Ancient booby traps aren’t exactly my forte.” It’s a great question though. How did I survive the fall, but none of these highly trained professionals could? Unless…

“You don’t think the storm the day they went missing had anything to do with it do you?” I ask Kane.

“You never know. It can get pretty ugly, pretty quick, out here. All that would have needed to happen was for one guy to trip the trap and the wind and sand would do the rest.”

“One-by-one they would have plummeted to their deaths,” Nicole says adding to the already cheerful mood.

There’s a long silence. The kind that isn’t peaceful by any means, the straight up creepy kind.

“You guys see this?” Omar asks.

We all turn to find him staring straight up.

I join him and have a look myself. The hole we repelled through is actually a perfectly cut vertical shaft. Our twin beams of light
gleam
off the bronze colored surface of the walls. We look at each other in awe.

“Um, Dad,” I say not taking my eyes off the shining shaft. “You need to see this.”

Multiple sets of feet make their way over to join Omar and me.

“Is that…?” Dad asks.

“Orichalcum,” I say. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire 1,000 foot distance is constructed of it.”

“Why do you say that?” Omar asks.

“Because, why only build the last few feet out of it? I suspect whoever built this place had the means and the knowledge to do basically anything they wanted at the time.”

More silence follows our first of what I think will be many amazing discoveries.

“Um, guys…check out the rim of the shaft,” Nicole says.

“What the hell language is that?” Kane asks.

Around the rim of the vertical exit—of which we now stand ten feet directly beneath—is writing etched into the orichalcum plating. We all gather around and shine our lights up at it.

“Dad, Omar, you’re up,” I say.

“It kind of looks like Greek to be honest,” Dad says. “But the wording isn’t right. The nouns and verbs almost look out of order, but not.”

“Sort of like Yoda, right? All backwards and stuff?” Kane asks.

“Trust in the force you must,” I say in my best Yoda impression.

My dad looks over at us with that
huh
face, like we actually said something that was right. He nods as if contemplating it, “You two may actually be on to something there, even if your imitation of Yoda is terrible.” Nicole laughs at Dad poking fun at Kane and me.

“These aren’t the droids you’re looking for,” I say waving my hand in front of Kane like a Jedi, attempting to control his mind.

“That’s Ben Kenobi, man. Not Yoda,” Kane says slapping my hand away, laughing.

“I know. Still funny though.”

Dad continues with his explanation over the laughter, “Now that I’ve reread it a few times, it certainly
does
look like Greek, but written in an old fashioned verbiage.”

“Like some versions of the Bible?” Nicole asks.

“Exactly! Like if you read the King James Version versus the New Living Translation. Two different translations, but both with the same story.”

“Or like some poetry,” Kane states firmly.

We just look over at the big guy like he just spoke Russian or something.

“What? I’m more than just a pretty face you know,” He responds.

“Wait,
older
than Greek? That’s one of the oldest written languages in history,” I say a little shocked.

“It could be an older version of the language, or the
proper
version of it anyway,” Omar comments.

“What do you mean?” Dad asks.

“It’s like American-English and English-English. Both are accepted, though one is a far older version.”

“That’s the smartest thing I’ve heard you say yet,” Kane says jabbing an elbow into Omar’s side.

Before Omar can react, I ask, “What does it say?”

“That…would fall into your fathers talents not mine. I’m more apt at the languages of the desert, not of the ancient Mediterranean variety,” Omar answers and steps aside to give Dad a better vantage.
   

Dad continues his examination of the inscriptions left by the original inhabitants, “Well, well, well, Omar my boy, you are correct. If you reread each engraving a few times and reorder a few words here-and-there you come out with some legible writings. For instance…” He scans the one closest to him reading it out loud in a whisper first, then louder for everyone to hear.

“Entrance you shall be granted. Exit you shall earn.”

“Great…” Kane says with a hint of dread.

Dad moves on to the next one to the left, “Strength you must have, to survive.”

Then he moves to the next one, “The will of the chosen to deny.”

And finally, “Or the end will soon be had.”

“Ok,” I start, trying to put together the mysterious warning. “You have to earn your freedom, right? And you do that by being strong enough. So there is either a physical or mental challenge coming up…”

“Or both,” Nicole adds.

“Very true,” I continue my supposition. “The will of the chosen to deny. That sounds like a choice of some kind will have to be made.”

“What kind of choice,” Omar asks.

“The will of the chosen?” Kane asks. “Didn’t the guy at the airport call Hank
the chosen?
You know, before he blew himself up.”

“You don’t think…” I say.

“I don’t think this can be a coincidence, Harrison,” Dad says. “There has been a lot of bloodshed surrounding this and all of it has centered around this discovery.”

“Or else the end will soon be had,” Kane whispers.

“The end?” Nicole asks.

“No idea, but it sort of sounds like an apocalyptic prophecy, doesn’t it?” I answer.

“Shit.”

We all look at Kane. He looks very uncomfortable, but not because everyone is staring at him at the bottom of a deep dark hole filled with the remains of countless bodies.

“The end,” he says.

“What end?” I ask.             

“It’s not a
what
, it’s a
who
.”