The Adventures of Tremain & Christopher BoxSet

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The Adventures of Tremain & Christopher BoxSet Page 15

by Terry Marchion


  The tablet!

  She didn't take it from him!

  She probably didn't understand I can use this to get free. He twisted as far as he could, maneuvering his hand into his pocket and shifted around until he pulled the tablet free. He struggled to unroll it, and it snapped open. He heard some shuffling somewhere else in the warehouse. A door creaked open and slammed shut. He heard footsteps nearing as he hit the tablet screen, activating the transmitter once again.

  He found himself on the platform, chair and all. He shifted and stood up awkwardly, still tied to the chair. Christopher froze as another lab tech came around and saw him. It was Desmond, his uncle's oldest assistant. He ran over to Christopher.

  "What the heck happened to you, Chris?" He said, grabbing a box cutter and making short work of the ropes, freeing Christopher.

  "Leesa! She's the one who tied me to this chair and I have a strong feeling she was the one who stole that pictograph!" He ran to the lab door. "She may be back any minute!" He dashed out the lab door as Desmond promised to keep an eye out for Leesa and ran to the receptionist desk. Tessie was at the desk. She looked up and smiled at Christopher.

  "What's got you in such a state, Christopher?" She asked, winking at him. Only a couple of years older than Christopher, she flirted with the younger man incessantly. Not that he minded, usually.

  "No time to talk, Tess -- I need you to do me a huge favor."

  She leaned forward on the desk and pursed her lips.

  "Ooh! Anything for you."

  He growled in frustration.

  "I need you to call Senator Marcus -- get him to call the police -- Uncle Tremain and the whole expedition are in trouble. And tell him it's Aziza! I have to go back. They need my help!" He started back to the lab as Tess picked up the phone, her eyes huge with surprise. She held up a finger for him to stop.

  "Of course! How will they find you?" She started dialing. Christopher pulled out the tablet and waved it at her.

  "I'll activate the GPS on this -- they can track it -- the senator knows the code!" He ran back to the lab, grabbing a spare duffel that sat by his uncle's desk. His backpack was still in the tent back at the expedition. As he ran through the lab, grabbing what he thought he would need, Desmond followed along, helping him stuff things into the duffel. On a whim, Christopher shoved all the nano blocks into the duffel. You never know, he thought to himself. Dashing back over to the transmitter, he did some quick looking on the tablet, to find the coordinates of the dig site. He punched them into the coordinate box, then paused, thinking. If Leesa came back to the lab, she'd know he would use the transmitter to get back to his uncle. He didn't want her following, so he took an extra moment to set the reset. Once he left, the coordinates would turn back to zero. She wouldn't be able to follow him. Giving a wave to Desmond, he activated it and jumped back onto the platform as the sound of sirens outside filtered in from the lobby. The lab disappeared before him in a shimmer of light.

  Chapter 8

  Tremain climbed back down the tower, stopping to listen every few steps. There were just the normal jungle sounds. He crept back to the camp. Peeking around a tent, he could see that Aziza and her cronies had herded the expedition party to the center of camp. From where he hid, he couldn't hear anything she was saying, but he could see Hollis, shaking his head in answer to something. His friend was frightened, he could see, the man's complexion redder than normal. He was preparing to sneak closer when he felt a heavy hand on his left shoulder.

  "Where do you think you're going?" growled a voice. Tremain, thinking quickly and thanking his foresight in taking a self-defense class, grabbed the thick wrist with his right hand, pivoted and pulled. He was rewarded with a cry of surprise as the goon's much larger body tumbled over and crashed in front of him.

  "It's rude to sneak up on anyone." He hissed. The damage had been done, however, as he saw Aziza storming over to him, having heard the commotion.

  "Decided to join the party, Tremain?" She looked behind him. "Where's Christopher?"

  Tremain waved at the air in front of him.

  "Oh, I sent him home." He was answered by a furious shout.

  "What? He'll bring the authorities!"

  Tremain folded his arms in front of him and stood his ground.

  "And what if he does? What will you do about it?"

  She reached into a pocket of her cargo pants and pulled out a small gun. She leveled it at Tremain. He could hear the whine of the energy cell as it powered up.

  "I could kill you now," she said. Her hand was steady.

  Tremain gulped.

  "Y-you could do that, yes." He held his hands out in front of him. "But if you do, you won't have my help. And knowing you like I do, you will need my help." He could tell she wanted to pull the trigger, but she also knew he was right.

  In a fit of frustration, she growled and shoved the gun back onto her pocket.

  "I hate it when you're right."

  He smiled smugly at her.

  "Do you want to go exploring or not?" He brushed past her as he walked over to Hollis, who was very glad to see him. He heard Aziza stomping behind him.

  She pointed at the man who Tremain had surprised as he slowly lumbered to his feet.

  "You." She then pointed to the group of students and the staff members. There were only about eight in total. "Find the largest tent and keep them all inside." There were shouts of protest from the students. Hollis sputtered his indignation. Without saying a word, Aziza pulled up her weapon once more and fired. A chair next to the group exploded into its constituent atoms as the energy beam hit.

  There was instant silence.

  Meekly, they allowed themselves to be herded, Hollis included, into one of the tents. Tremain stood aghast. He was surprised at the violence, shocked at the quick hijacking of the expedition and angered by the summary dismissal of his friend and colleagues.

  "Don't you think we will need someone's expertise?" he asked her as she turned to him.

  "You're the brightest one here, Tremain," Aziza said, pocketing her weapon again. "If you can't figure this out, they don't stand a chance."

  Tremain stood puzzled, his frown deepening.

  "Figure what out, exactly? What have I missed?" His fear dissipating, intellectual curiosity was filling the gap. Aziza motioned Tremain to follow her, three of her men falling into step behind them.

  They walked over to the opening in the rock, where Christopher had tripped.

  "Take a look inside." Aziza waved her hand in front of her, indicating the opening, her other hand held out a flashlight. Tremain took the flashlight and pointed the beam into the opening.

  The light showed a large room. Dust and pebbles littered the smooth floor. The walls were decorated with designs either painted or chiseled into the rock. They hadn't noticed much more than the floor on their first look. His pulse quickened at the sight. Hollis would be enthralled. He quickly pushed the thought aside. Hollis is better off in the tent at the moment.

  Tremain knew he'd have to find a way to keep Aziza occupied, so Christopher had time to get help. He took his time studying the room, staying just outside the opening, so as not to disturb anything. The colors on the walls were vibrant and bright, depicting scenes of daily life with some of the images almost photo-realistic.

  From where he stood, he saw rows of crops being grown, tended to by quite human looking figures. One image in particular caught his eye and froze him on the spot. It showed a field surrounded by trees with a pyramid of light in the center. Within the pyramid stood two figures. Tremain swallowed hard.

  That solves the first mystery, he thought, remembering the time he and Christopher had a very unscheduled adventure when they first used the transmitter. The pyramid of light signified either their arrival or departure. These paintings were made by the lost people from the Mayflower. How they managed to hide themselves so near to the colony was now apparent; they had gone underground. Were they still here, he wondered. He stepped back and handed th
e flashlight to Aziza.

  "Well? What do you think?" she prompted when he made no comment, lost in his thoughts. He looked up at her, almost as if he'd forgotten she was there.

  "Hmm? Oh, very interesting, that's for sure. We need to catalog these things for Hollis."

  "For Hollis?" she sneered. "We're going to find out where that room leads to. Did you notice there was no other exit?"

  Tremain stood tall and stared at her.

  "Yes, I did notice that fact. Obviously, it's a solitary room. We still need to catalog it." He walked away, back towards the camp. One of the hired help tried to stop him. He held up his hand and turned to Aziza. "If you want my help, we will be treating this expedition," he emphasized the word, "as it should be. Scientifically. To do that, I need some things from my tent." He tilted his head and looked impatiently at her. With a sneer, she waved off the goon, allowing Tremain to go free. "Thank you," he said and turned back to camp.

  "You're just letting him go?" One of the men asked her. She stared after Tremain, watching him walk into the trees.

  "He has nowhere else to go." She answered. "Besides, knowing him as I do, he wouldn't miss this for the world."

  Tremain walked back to camp, avoiding the tent that held the staff, and entered his own. There, he pulled out his bag, which contained a flashlight, a notebook and, most importantly, a camera. Any pictures he took would automatically link to the tablet, letting Christopher know where they were when he arrived with help. Putting the bag around his shoulders, he walked to the 'prison' tent. The guard stepped in front of him.

  "Oh please. Do you need me to toss you again?" Tremain said impatiently and pushed past him.

  Hollis started in surprise as he entered.

  "Tremain!" He shouted. "Did you disable her?"

  Tremain shook his head and leaned towards his friend. He kept his voice low.

  "Christopher is getting help. Stay put and don't make any trouble." He stood back up as shouts of protest came from the students. "Sorry, but I don't want her hurting any of you." He left the tent and went back to the rock wall. Nobody had moved. Aziza sat on a rock in front of the opening. The light filtered through the canopy of trees and lit her face.

  He was struck anew by her beauty, remembering the student as he studied the woman. Mentally, he shook himself. She was not the same person she had been all those years ago. She'd grown harder and colder. He thought of the chair she'd disintegrated. That could have easily been one of the students. Best to remember that, instead of mooning over a long-lost relationship. He pulled out the camera.

  "Fine. Now we catalog." He started snapping pictures of the vine-covered rock face. He peered into the opening and snapped more pictures, the flash making the painted walls come alive. He noticed more details to the images. Some, it seemed, had been painted over as there were patterns that didn't match cleanly. There was a diagram of a maze on the far wall. He entered the room and approached the wall, shining his flashlight over the pigment. Was this a map? Did a maze like this exist somewhere?

  Aziza and the others had followed him inside. One of the men tripped over a loose stone in the floor and cursed under his breath.

  There was a grinding noise and the stone which they had moved to enter the room slid back into place. With a cry of alarm, Aziza jumped to the stone to no avail. It slid closed, shutting out all light. Flashlights snapped open as they heard a series of heavy clicks and a hissing sound began to fill the room. Tremain played his beam of light around.

  Sand poured from holes in the ceiling. A series of levers had appeared in regular intervals along the walls which explained the heavy clicks. He made a circuit of the room. Aziza was right by his side.

  "What the hell happened?" She hissed. He glanced at her, but kept his attention on the walls.

  "Your man tripped over a keystone, apparently. Didn't expect that at all. It triggered this trap." He indicated the levers. "I'm assuming these will stop the sand from filling the room and killing us."

  One of the men, upon hearing that, pulled at one of the levers. Tremain heard the movement and gave a shout of warning, but it was too late. The lever slid down and clicked. Nothing happened. Another man, behind Tremain, grabbed the lever next to him and pulled it down. There was a loud banging sound: WHAM! WHAM! Both levers snapped back up. More openings in the ceiling poured an even greater amount of sand into the room. The floor was becoming covered very quickly as the sand piled up. Footing was going to become tricky. Tremain held his hands out at his sides, motioning everyone to stop.

  "Don't touch anything!" He shouted over the hiss of the falling sand. Making a circuit of the room with his flashlight, he roughly calculated how long it would take for the room to fill. They had time, he thought. He caught a lungful of dust and coughed. The dust clouds stirred up were going to make things difficult. They may not have as much time as he hoped.

  Aziza stared at him.

  "What are you doing?" She yelled, her eyes wild. "How are we getting out of this?" He snapped his flashlight onto her face. She threw her hand up to shield her eyes from the bright beam.

  "I'm analyzing. If you remember, it's what I do." He moved the beam of light to the maze wall. "If you will allow me." There were two levers on this wall. He played his beam over them both, looking for . . . what exactly? He knew the levers played a part in the solution, but he had no idea which levers to pull, how many to pull or in what order. The hissing sand didn't help the situation at all. That was the point, of course. He gave a humorless smile at the simplicity of this trap. The victim, too preoccupied with the falling sand, pulls a random lever causing an increase in the volume of sand. The more the victim panics, the less his ability to think critically, pulling levers until it's too late.

  He made a circuit of the room, analyzing each lever in turn, climbing over the drifts of sand, avoiding the cascades of the heavy stuff as necessary. He stopped and turned back. He played his beam over a few of the levers once more.

  "What do you see?" Aziza demanded. "Tell me!"

  His only reply was to hold up his hand and point his flashlight beam at one of the levers in the far wall.

  "This one." He said loudly. He moved the beam to two others on the entrance wall. "These two as well." After a look at each other, followed by a shrug, the men moved to one of the indicated levers. Tremain pointed to one of them. "Pull that one." The man did as told.

  The lever clicked down. There was no change in the flow of sand.

  Temain pointed to the second of the levers he had indicated. "Number two, please." The second man took a deep breath, gripped the lever and gave it a pull.

  It made a louder click as it slid into place. No banging sounds. Encouraged, Tremain indicated the third lever. The man there didn't hesitate and yanked on his lever.

  Nothing happened, at first. Tremain was about to look at the levers again, thinking he'd miscalculated, when the flow of sand began to slow. There was a collective cheer from the three goons as the sand stopped altogether.

  "How did you know to do that?" Aziza asked, him relief in her voice.

  Tremain waved a hand to blow away the dust floating near his face.

  "Pretty simple, really. Each lever had scrape marks where it moved against the stone wall behind it. Assuming this trap had been sprung many times before, I looked for the levers that didn't have very pronounced markings, meaning they hadn't been pulled as often. Those must have been the correct ones. Fortunately, I was right." A deep stone grinding sound came and the back wall began to move.

  The entire wall slid to the left as the grinding noise shook the room. An opening slid into view as the moving wall slowed and came to a halt. Tremain shone his flashlight over this previously unseen section of wall showing not paintings, but carvings. Some were unidentifiable, having broken in places. Tremain noticed a pattern in the carvings which repeated multiple times, as if they were a motif, a phrase or a chant. He ran his hands through his hair as he tried to make sense of it. Without a word, Aziza sli
d past him, running her hands over the carvings.

  "These are the same type of carvings as the pictograph." She whispered as she pulled it from her pocket. Tremain had almost forgotten about it. He watched as she held it up over the wall. The stone and the style of carving were similar. She gave a cry of victory as she pointed to a spot in the lower part of the wall. Tremain moved his flashlight to find another burst of lines, similar to the stolen pictograph. Aziza turned to him, her face alight. "This is the way. The weapon is through this doorway. She waved her hand at the men, who dutifully aimed their flashlights into the new doorway and went in, one by one. Tremain noticed the men didn't hesitate, not even once. Aziza entered after the men, leaving him standing there.

  "Not a cautious one, is she?" He muttered as he followed.

  The new room they found themselves in was different from the first. The walls were painted stark white. The flashlights showed no pictures, no carvings, no adornments at all, only smooth walls with no windows or other openings. Tremain turned in a circle, taking pictures as he contemplated what this puzzle would be. He was sure there would be another one to solve. He didn't have long to wait.

  By some instinct, they had spread out along the entrance wall. Tremain was thankful for that as it gave him more time to analyze the room. His flashlight was on the opposite wall when he noticed it. A seam.

  "Look at that." he said, his voice just louder than a whisper.

  Aziza pointed her flashlight to the same spot.

  "Another doorway?" She asked, breathless.

  Tremain glanced at her.

  "I would assume so."

  Aziza pulled at the arm of one of the men.

  "Go take a look." He dutifully did so. Tremain moved his beam of light over the floor. There was a grid pattern there. Oh no.

  "Wait!" He shouted, but it was too late. The man stepped on one of the squares. It depressed slightly. A loud gong sounded and they heard a noise like a spring being released. Suddenly, the man had a wooden shaft sticking out from under his collar bone. He gave a grunt of pain. Another wooden shaft appeared in his thick thigh. He went down, hissing in pain. He crawled back to the rest of them. Aziza reached down as if to pull the shaft from his chest.

 

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