God Stones: Books 1 - 3

by Otto Schafer

  “What do you mean, one point to the next?” Lenny asked.

  Janis excitedly chimed in with the answer. “Of course! Okay, for example if I had something hidden miles from here, wouldn’t it be easier to say, ‘Start at the river and go one hundred paces to X.’ X can be anything – a tree, a rock, a bend in the river… anything. Then say, ‘From X go another one hundred paces to Y.’”

  “Exactly!” Garrett said. “So, since he didn’t do that, it leads me to believe it isn’t that far! And that has me thinking.” He paused for effect. “I know where the arched tunnel is!”

  Everyone looked at Garrett, stunned.

  “Are you freaking serious?” Lenny said.

  “Where? Let’s go now!” Pete said.

  “Well, hold on. Here’s what I am thinking, but I could be wrong. You guys remember a couple years back when we were all into exploring every drainage pipe we could fit into? Remember we found that old mine entrance behind the concrete company, but it had caved in and didn’t go anywhere. We also built that fort in the Z tunnel under the highway?”

  “Yeah, yeah, but what’s that got to do with this?” Lenny pressed.

  “I’m getting to it. We also explored a few of the drainage pipes that dump into the river. Not far from here is a large one – it empties at the river bend right before you head out of town, just past the bank.”

  Pete frowned. “The one behind the lodge.”

  “I’ve fished below that pipe. It just juts out the side of a steep embankment,” Lenny said.

  “Yep, that’s the one. It’s really tricky to get to,” Garrett said.

  “But, Garrett, that pipe is circular, around maybe five feet in diameter tops, not old enough, definitely not arched, and not tall enough for a man to stand upright in,” Lenny said, turning his hands palms up in confusion.

  Garrett continued to pace in front of the group. “Exactly, but as I was saying, we were exploring pipes all over town. Lenny, I think you were grounded or something, I can’t remember, but I wasn’t with either of you that day,” he said, motioning to Pete and Lenny. “So anyway, Jack, Albert, and David explored it with me. I remember we went back into the pipe a good sixty feet before we reached the end of the concrete section.” He turned to Janis. “Normally the pipes we explore get smaller and smaller until you have to belly crawl. Usually, when they’d start getting pretty tight, we’d chicken out, afraid of getting stuck. Sometimes we even had to shimmy out backwards because the tunnels would get too tight to even turn around.”

  “Right… why wouldn’t you spend your spare time crawling around drainage pipes? Makes total sense,” Janis said, her face failing to hide her disgust.

  “That’s right! I remember this, you were really pissed at Jack after that,” Pete said, recollection lighting up his face. “Didn’t he kill a bat or something?”

  “Exactly, I was super pissed at him for that. The bat was cool, and just hanging there minding its own business, and for no reason Jack takes a stick and whacks the thing, knocking it down, before going psycho on it and beating it to death.” Garrett shook his head. “I can still see the thing, squirming under the beam of the flashlight, screeching in pain. Jack just laughs at it and hits it again and again,” Garrett said.

  “There is something wrong with that kid,” Janis said bluntly.

  “Right,” Lenny said, his brow pinched earnestly. “Now that you mention it, I remember you telling me about that. But I don’t get what this has to do with the old brick-archway drainage tunnel we’re looking for.”

  Garrett continued to walk back and forth, slowly wearing a hole into the tile floor. “Guys, the concrete tunnel was sixty feet or so, but then it ended and, instead of getting smaller, it got bigger. It opened up. You actually had to step off and out of the concrete tunnel down into a larger area that was both wider and taller. I remember it was like a transition area maybe thirty feet across to the other side, where it stepped up, connecting to a much smaller drainage tunnel. Oh yeah, and to get across you had to walk through nasty stink water that was pooled almost knee-deep.” Garrett crinkled his nose as if he could still smell the stagnant water.

  “Can you remember what the – what did you call it, the ‘transition area’? What it was made of?” Pete asked.

  Garrett stopped pacing and turned to face his friends. “Oh, believe me, I wish I could forget Jack, the bat, and that whole damn day. Yeah, I remember exactly what the transition area was made of. The whole distance across to the smaller section of tunnel was made of very old brick, bigger and more squarish than the normal bricks that we use today. And you know what shape it was in?”

  The three exchanged glances.

  “It was a long brick arch from end to end,” Garrett said.

  “No way! Are you sure?” Lenny asked.

  “Now that sounds like the description in Lincoln’s journal! Listen to this,” Pete said, dragging his finger down the page of his notebook. Clearing his throat, he began to read in his deep Abraham Lincoln voice. “I began my survey for the town of Petersburg in 1835, and in doing so, I ensured the tunnel entrance was concealed but still accessible through clever brickwork hidden inside of a drainage duct. You can find this duct spills into the Sangamon River.”

  Pete flipped his notebook shut. “And it makes perfect sense. Of course no one has noticed it! It’s sixty feet back behind a modern-day drainage pipe.”

  “But, suppose that is the same tunnel, isn’t it a bad sign that there is a newer section of tunnel added on? What if the city workers who installed the new pipe destroyed the part of the arch we need to find?” Janis asked.

  “I don’t think so. The journal said, once inside, look for the archway. I mean I don’t think the whole thing was probably ever an archway, or you wouldn’t have to look for it once inside,” Pete said.

  “Plus, if the city had destroyed the entrance to install the new pipe, surely they would have discovered the opening,” Lenny said.

  “Okay, Lenny, you wanted a job – tomorrow get in that pipe and check it out. You will need a flashlight. What exactly should he be looking for, Pete?” Garrett asked, sitting back down.

  “Well, I think we are looking for some markings on the bricks, like a year or something – probably a specific brick. So just check the arch top to bottom for any markings or strange shapes of some kind – anything that doesn’t belong. You probably want to take a notepad and write down anything you find. If you don’t find anything, I guess we just—”

  Lenny busted in. “Wait a minute. Are you actually serious? Garrett, are you for real with this?”

  Everyone looked at Lenny in confusion. “What’s up, man?” he asked.

  Lenny leaned forward in his chair. “So, let me run this back. You guys” – he looked at each of them in turn – “are sending me into the spooky-ass mystery tunnel, with stank-ass water – and bats! Have you not seen any scary movies? I know Garrett has because we’ve watched them together. So how in the hell are you going to send the one who always dies first into the scary-ass mystery tunnel! Why don’t you just send me in with a blaster and a red shirt while you’re at it!”

  Pete and Garrett laughed.

  Janis did not.

  “Oh, yeah, real funny, huh? I’m still not going in the creepy tunnel alone. You can forget it,” Lenny said, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms.

  Garrett shook his head. “When you put it that way, Lenny, I don’t want you to go in the creepy-ass tunnel alone! I guess I didn’t think about it like that,” Garrett said, still laughing. “But listen, we need to figure this out. I can ride my bike to school and to work tomorrow, then skip my run and just hurry to the tunnel to meet up with you.” Then get home before the streetlights come on and do whatever training Phillip has planned for me. Exhaustion washed over him at the thought.

  “Hey, wait a sec, why don’t I just take David with?” Lenny asked, snapping his fingers.

  “Whoa, wait a minute. Are you suggesting we bring David in on this?�
�� Pete asked, not pleased by Lenny’s suggestion.

  “Well, I don’t see why not. Just because he doesn’t get to hang out as much doesn’t mean he’s not still part of the gang, right? I trust him and don’t see what it would hurt to bring him in. Are you saying you don’t trust him, Pete?” Lenny asked.

  “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m just concerned that this is getting too big, and I don’t like the idea of bringing in more people, that’s all,” Pete said.

  “Look, I didn’t like the idea of you telling Jack about the book. I didn’t like the idea of you bringing in Janis—”

  “Hey! I am sitting right here, Lenny!” Janis said with a hint of hurt in her voice.

  “Sorry, Janis, I’m good with it now. I’m just saying, I don’t think it’ll hurt to have David. He is one of us. Besides I’ve got some selfish interest in this. David’s built like a brick shithouse, but he’s slow. If any craziness goes down in that tunnel – like rats, bats, or some Friday the thirteenth shit – I can just push David in between me and whatever the hell is trying to kill or eat me and make my escape.” Lenny brushed his hands together as if to say, Problem solved.

  “Nice, Lenny!” Garrett said, laughing.

  “Shit. Somebody’s got to live to tell the story, and I’m okay if that somebody is me,” he said.

  They all laughed.

  “Alright. We all agree that we can trust David?” Garrett asked.

  They all nodded, but Garrett thought Lenny still seemed uneasy.

  “Okay, tomorrow bring David up to speed, swear him to secrecy, and then take him with you to explore the tunnel. And you two” – he turned his attention to Janis and Pete – “try and see what you can find out about the ‘Keepers of the Light.’ I guess going forward, since you two will be here anyway, this place can be our base of operations. Plus, our parents are more likely to let us all stay out a little later if we’re at the library working on a school project. If that works for you guys, we can just meet here starting tomorrow. I’ll come by here on my way home from work, and we can discuss what you guys found. Sound good?” Garrett asked.

  Everyone agreed.

  “Okay, we got to split – Mr. B won’t be happy if we’re late,” Lenny said, as the two boys made their way toward the library stairs.

  “See you guys tomorrow,” Garrett called back to Pete and Janis, who looked like they were locked in a staring contest. He slapped Lenny on the arm. “Check it out.”

  Lenny glanced back. “Well, good for old Petey – it’s about time. I just hope they spend a little time looking at books rather than each other.”

  Pete suddenly realized he and Janis were alone, making him instantly uncomfortable. He fidgeted in his chair, looking around the library, trying to focus on anything other than Janis.

  Thankfully, Janis didn’t seem to be having the same issue. “Pete, thanks for speaking up for me with your pals. I’m really excited to be part of this.”

  Swallowing hard, Pete found his courage and attempted to reply, praying to himself that the words wouldn’t come out a jumbled mess. “Yeah, I was really lucky to find you behind the bookcase.” What! Why did I say that? That sounded stupid!

  Janis smiled. “Lucky, huh? Well, good. I’m glad you feel that way.”

  A moment ago, the large round table had four of them sitting around it, but now that it was just the two of them sitting side by side, neither moved to take advantage of the extra space. “Janis, if you don’t mind me asking, what were you doing down here anyway? I’m here almost every day and have never seen you here before.”

  “Well, I normally hang out at the school library, but it’s closed on Sundays, so I thought I might as well give this old place a try. I have a book report due in a little over a week.”

  “I’ll have you know this old place is hands down the better choice.”

  “That is yet to be seen,” Janis said, looking around the old library doubtfully.

  “You spend a little time with me, and I’ll be happy to prove it to you!”

  “Looks like you will get your chance, Pete,” Janis said, smiling again. “Can I read through the notes that you transferred from the journal?”

  Janis slid her chair even closer to Pete as he positioned the journal between them and opened his notebook. She was close enough that he could smell her hair now. As she focused on the journal, he leaned in and discreetly drew in a deep breath through his nose. Her hair smelled of orange and… and something else. What was it? He drew in a second breath. Orange and… ginger. He smiled.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “Uh… yeah. Why?” he said.

  “I don’t know, I just heard you sighing a couple times and thought maybe you were becoming impatient with me. I’m sure you’ve probably memorized all this stuff by now.”

  “No!” he said too loudly, causing Janis to jump. “Oh crap, sorry. I mean, no, you’re fine. I am not impatient with you at all, please take your time. I was just working through a few questions in my head.” Like how in the hell it’s possible for you to smell so, so good.

  Janis giggled before changing her focus back to the journal.

  Wow, she thinks I’m funny, and not in the way other people think I’m funny. Not once so far has she mentioned my speech impediment, and she overheard my entire explanation earlier from behind the shelves. “Okay, well, I am thinking the best place for us to start looking for these Keepers of the Light is in anything we can find on Freemasons. Take your time with this, and I will see what books I can find,” he said, adjusting his glasses.

  Janis smiled, watching Pete walk away, and pulled the journal a little closer.

  20

  Chardonnay, Scotch, and Nightmares

  Present day

  Oak Island, Nova Scotia

  It was approaching the midnight hour before the family finally finished cataloging the contents of the giant treasure chest. Edward, Paul, and Breanne had all turned in for the night.

  Despite her excitement, Breanne had no trouble finding sleep. As soon as she felt the soft down pillow caress her cheek, she slipped easily into unconsciousness. But sleep could never just be easy for Breanne – not for years, not since the accident.

  Her mother’s voice. Cold leather on her legs. Snowing. A Christmas song playing on the radio. The window was fogged. She pressed her finger against the cold glass, drawing a circle. Barren cornfields passed. Snow fell. Her mother screamed. Oh God, the scream. The foggy glass exploding inward. Metal twisting.

  Suddenly she was thrown into fathoms of black so vast she instinctively knew she was no longer in her bed – nor was she in the camper, or the island. She felt nothing pulling her, and she thought it possible she was no longer in the world. The familiar nightmare had changed. She couldn’t see her mom, or the blood. The song was gone, too – only infinite measures of darkness remained. Then the silence cracked with a single scream. Her mother’s scream – but soon joined by many screams. Flashes pricked the dark. Small glimpses whirred through her consciousness. Where am I? In a city? The stench of smoke and burning flesh was palpable. Screaming pierced her mind, not fuzzy but fatal. She was thinking. In her own mind, she was questioning. You don’t think and question during nightmares, do you? So many people screaming, and running, and burning. Her vision returned fully as a horse galloped towards her, its hooves beating the pavement louder and louder. Smoke pushed in all around her, so thick she couldn’t breathe. She could only see the swirling smoke, thick and promising to swallow her. A voice from somewhere within the smoke. A man’s voice. No, not a man, she thought, a boy’s voice. He was speaking to her. “Hey? Can you hear me?” the voice asked. She tried to speak, tried to answer, but she was choked silent by dirty black smoke. “Can you hear me?!” the voice begged.

  Breanne jolted up, gasping for air. She coughed violently, tasting the soot. She sat still, trying to catch her breath and sort it out. For years, nightmares of the accident had been her normal, but as long as she stayed busy, immersed
in her studies, the nightmares remained, for the most part, mild and fuzzy. A startled gasp followed by a few fragments was the norm. When she wasn’t busy all the time, guilt felt overwhelming and the nightmares got worse. But not until she had come to Oak Island had she experienced anything like this. The closer to the secret they came, the more bizarre, more detailed, and less fragmented were her nightmares. Fuzzy had given way to vivid, and not just in memory but in all her senses. What’s happening to me? Her mouth salivated as a wave of nausea overcame her.

  She got up. It was late or early – she wasn’t sure which, but it was still dark outside. Flipping on the bathroom light, she went to the small camper sink, turned on the faucet, and splashed water on her face. Hey, can you hear me? The young man’s voice echoed in her mind. She could still smell the burning bodies in her nostrils and those screams. God, those screams. She splashed another handful of water on her face, coughed, and spit black into the sink. She frowned. Can’t be. Don’t even think it. Yeah, but there it is. Don’t think it, girl, because that would be ridiculous and impossible. You were in a tunnel full of swamp mud, that’s all. Surround yourself with dirt and you’re bound to breathe it in, get it in your sinuses. What about the burnt taste? You sit next to the campfire every night, don’t you? That’s what you taste and that’s what you smell. That’s all.

  Walking back towards her bed, she heard voices coming through the camper window. She peeked out the window to see Jerry and her dad were still awake, relaxing by the fire. Jerry palmed a scotch while her father sipped from a glass of chardonnay.

  “Who is he, Jerry?” her father demanded. “I know, I know I agreed not to ask, and for a year now, I haven’t, but I want to know. Because, let me tell you, there is something not right about him. He knows more about this place than he possibly could or should know. Who the hell is he?”