Tomb of Zeus (Atlantis) (5 page)

“Fools!” Poseidon shouted.

In seconds, the force of the water slammed into him, thrusting him against the altar, then pushing him around to the opposite side. As the water flowed in through the door, it rushed toward the far wall, impacting it violently. Having nowhere to go, it careened over on itself in a great wave, then rushed back toward the entrance. Any man still standing was quickly swept off his feet. Poseidon struggled to keep his head above the raging current as he swam with the flow of the water. In less than a minute, several men were dead, drown before they could react, and now created blunt objects that collided with those fighting to stay afloat.

As the room continued to fill, the waterline quickly rose above the six foot high door. It would be mere seconds before it reached the ceiling, completely removing any breathable air.

Poseidon felt a jarring blow to his side and winced in pain. With only the lighted hole in the ceiling shining the way, he spotted Cephius kicking wildly beside him, struggling to stay afloat. Poseidon reached for him, dragging him close. With his own legs powering through the water, he helped Cephius to keep his head above the roiling current.

“Lord, we’re all going to die,”
he shouted, his breathing now heavy and panicked.

“We need to swim out of here. It’s our only chance. When the water reaches the ceiling, the flow will slow enough for us to swim out through the door.
Do you understand what I’m saying?” Poseidon shouted.

Cephius stared for a moment, then nodded reluctantly, his mind still unable to accept the reality of their situation. He continued to thrash in the water and Poseidon shouted:

“Conserve your strength Cephius. You’ll need every bit to make it out in one breath.”

Cephius watched Poseidon’s slow deliberate movements. He was controlling his body.
Cephius realized the truth of his king’s words. He forced his mind slower and steadied himself. With mere inches left until the water touched the ceiling, the two men cocked their heads sideways to allow their mouths to continue to breathe.

“This is it. Take a deep breath and press your hand
s on the ceiling to help turn yourself upside down, then use your feet to spring off it and head for the door. Once you’re through the door, head for the light. Ready?” Poseidon shouted one last time.

“I am, my Lord,” he shouted back, his voice filled with fear.

Poseidon quickly turned upside down, then rested his feet on the ceiling. In one great effort, he extended his legs and exploded downward toward the doorway. Kicking wildly, he pumped his arms as he swam against the slow steady current. In seconds, he felt the edge of the doorway, then pulled himself through it.

Looking back through dark and blurred vision, he spotted the white cotton garment worn by Cephius. As he struggled through the doorway, Poseidon reached ou
t and grabbed the material. He pulled him through, then felt his feet touch the wall. Instantly, he pushed off with great force, pulling Cephius behind him. The two men slowed, then both began to swim. Far in the distance, they both saw the faint light of daylight. With half their energy used to escape the room, both men doubted their chances of survival.

Kicking wildly and pumping their arms, the
y frantically swam toward the light. With each stroke, they felt their life sustaining energy quickly draining. Fifteen seconds later, both men’s lungs were screaming for air. Although the light was now a bright beacon, even more now than before, they knew they couldn’t make it.

Cephius realized his efforts were useless. He began to slow his swim, resigning himself to his fate.

Poseidon’s foot brushed against Cephius as he pulled ahead. Instantly, he knew his friend was falling behind. He reached for Cephius’ cotton top and tugged hard, pulling him alongside him, encouraging him to swim. Together, the two continued on.

With their last exhale of breath, the two had only seconds to live. Both wanted to inhale deeply. Their lungs begged for air. They felt tightness and pain in their chest, signaling the oncoming inhale that would end their lives.

On the edge of faint and their vision now blurring, both men could barely move their arms. Only their legs kept moving. The once dim light of their target was now bright and expansive. At times, the light seemed to flitter and deflect, as if being blocked by some great entity. Unable to resist a moment longer, both men opened their mouths and prepared to breathe.

Suddenly, they felt a great force haul them forward. A second later, the two broke free of the water and gasped a tremendous inhale. They
heard shouting voices, but they seemed distant and unintelligible. Slowly their vision began to return. The voices began to make sense.

“Lay them over here,” a voice commanded.

“Elevate their heads,” another ordered.

“Lord Poseidon, can you hear me?” one man asked.

Poseidon’s mind cleared. He was alive.

“Yes… yes, I can hear you. Where is Cephius? Did he make it?” he asked, his voice filled with concerned.

“My Lord, I’m over here,” Cephius struggled to shout.

Poseidon raised himself up slight
ly and stared over to his friend.

“We made it. We made it,” he repeated, nodding in relief.

“I owe you a life, my Lord. Thank you,” Cephius responded gratefully.

Poseidon nodded in understanding, then turned to those helping.

“And the others?” he asked in ominous tone.

No one spoke
. One man shook his head slowly and Poseidon knew his answer.

“I see,” he responded sadly.

----- ----- ----- -----

Three
weeks later…

Poseidon stood by the dock and watched his ship being loaded with supplies. Beside him, Cephius monitored the workers activity, checking off items from a list as they were being loaded. With only a few urns left to be stowed, he turned to Poseidon.

“Lord, your ship is nearly ready to sail.”

“Good work, Cephius. I’m anxious to get underway,” Poseidon responded. “You were able to fit it all, I presume?” he added. “Nothing left behind?”

“
No, my Lord. It was a bit tight, but we managed,” Cephius replied, his voice sounding cryptic.

Poseidon turned to Cephius. He could see he was troubled.

“Cephius, is everything alright? You did stow all my personal affects, did you not?”

“Oh yes, my Lord, of course.”

“You look discontented. Is there something wrong? You’re not still troubled by Zeus’ scepter are you?” Poseidon speculated.

“Well… it does seem a shame to leave it behind, does it not, my Lord?”

“My brother’s grave will not be desecrated simply to arm ourselves with another weapon. I will concede that the scepter has great powers, but its strength is insignificant when compared to the strength of our empire, therefore, it holds little value to me, other than symbolic,” he explained.

“Symbolic, my Lord?”

“Yes Cephius. It merely represents the power of our nation and to that extent, I will build another symbol to represent that power,” Poseidon responded.

“Yes, my Lord,” he responded obediently.

As the slaves finished loading the urns on his ship, Poseidon scanned the area one last time. He knew it would be the last.

“I’ll miss this place, I think?” he
said thoughtfully, then added, “It served its purpose, but Atlantis will provide a more promising future.”

Cephius only nodded agreeably.

----- ----- ----- -----

Three months later…

Poseidon manned the tiller of his ship and watched eagerly as the great pyramid appeared far out in the distance, marking the grandiose city of Atlantis. After three months of travel, he was eager
to finally reach his destination.

As they sailed closer, details began to appear. Thousands of white limestone buildings dotted the coastline and spread far up into the surrounding hills. Great wooden docks lined the harbor and hundreds of fishing vessels floated in the bay on their moorings.
Even that far out at sea, it was obvious Atlantis was more than just another coastal city. It was a grand and opulent metropolis: the jewel of the Mediterranean and of the new world.

An hour later, thousands of people lined the docks, beaches and streets as Poseidon drifted into the enormous harbor. Rushing alongside him, dozens of ships rowed close to catch a glimpse of their new king. They shouted out his name in pride,
and he waved his arm in a respectful salute.

Dozens of men hovered over the dock as he floated to a stop. Statesmen and fishermen alike, wrestled with ropes, only too happy to be the one to shore up their king’s ship. As Poseidon climbed up a ladder and stepped up onto the great wooden dock, loud cheers roared from the crowd:

“Long live Poseidon. Long live our King!”

Poseidon raised his hands again in a gracious salute to his people. He smiled back at Cephius, following close behind.

“We’re home, Cephius. Long live Atlantis,” he said with enthusiasm.

Winchester, Connecticut

The present day…

Jack Roberts sat on his wooden deck overlooking Lake Winchester. The afternoon sun shined down on him as he lounged in his padded Adirondack chair. He took a sip of his beer, then set it down beside him on a cheap milk crate used as a table. Although the sun’s rays felt good, they did nothing to improve his feelings of sadness. Staring off at the tiny ripples on the water, he could think of only one thing: Serena Arista.

It had been more than six months since they parted ways, but he still felt the pains of a broken heart. Their relationship had started out promising, then ended abruptly with Serena citing personality differences. The news was devastating to Jack. For weeks, he lived as a hermit, locked away in his home, barely sleeping or eating. Over time, he pulled himself out from his depression and got back to living.

As he stared out across his wooden railing, he watched a small sailboat drift on by. He smiled at the peaceful scene and envied the young man who seemed to be enjoying himself. He made a mental note to try out the hobby when he was feeling better.

Jack’s cell phone ran
g abruptly, startling him, interrupting his peaceful moment. He stared at the milk crate and watched his phone both ring and vibrate, then nearly fall off the crude table. He quickly reached down and grabbed it before it nearly dropped to the deck. Looking at the number, his heart beat faster seeing the last name on the display: Arista.

His mind quickly thought of Serena. A moment later, a saddened expression overcame his face when he realized it was only her father: Javier Arista. He was about to ignore the call, but thought better of it. Both men had shared some dramatic history together while finding Atlantis and had become close friends. Although he was in no mood to speak, ignoring Javier’s call felt rude to him. He pushed a button on the phoned and answered:

“Hey Javi, long time no hear,” he said dryly.

“Jack, you ole son of
a gun, how you holding up?” Javi bellowed through the phone. “How’s Connecticut treating you?”

“Warm and sunny, mostly,” he
responded, smiling slightly at Javier’s boundless energy.

“Great! Are you getting any fishing in?”

“Not really,” Jack replied, his voice lacking enthusiasm.

“How about flying? Have you had any more near-death adventures?
” Javi asked excitedly.

“None that I can remember,”
he responded blandly.

“How about climbing? You gotta be doing some of that with all that nice weather you’re having, right,”
Javi persisted.

“Well… I’ve been kind of tied up lately. Haven’t really found the time to do any climbing lately, either.”

Javi paused a moment to collect his thoughts, then spoke.

“I heard you were going through a spell. It’s kind of why I’m calling,” he started, his voice sounding sympathetic. “Jack, I’m really sorry about you and Serena, truly I am, but you can
’t give up on life. You have a wonderful spirit in you. Don’t let it die.” He paused again, then continued, “I know you’re down, Jack, I can hear it in your voice, but don’t give in to the sadness. You have to fight your way back to the top, fight to be happy, claim your life back.”

“Thanks Dad,” Jack replied, sarcastically.

“Ok, I guess I was a little overly dramatic, but you know what I mean,” he said in serious tone.

“I do and I do appreciate the words, Javi, but it’s not as easy as just fighting your way back.”

“I know it’s not, but you have to start taking steps forward… even when you don’t want to,” he paused for effect, then continued, “That’s why I’m calling. It’s time to pull you back up to the top again.”

“This isn’t one of those stupid interventions, is it?” Jack joked.