Desperate to exit the hallway, Sonia turned to retrieve the woman from the cell and saw that Joseph had already moved her out into the hallway and was heading toward the craft. She had almost let herself believe for a second that they were going to get out without further incident. Then, they heard the pounding of boots against the steel flooring. Numerous feet moving in one harmonious and haunting sound. The uniformed Tisht moved toward the doorway that led to the craft cutting off their escape. Joseph, sensing that they were caught, placed the lethargic woman on the floor and in a flash, he was gone. Instantaneously all hope fled from Sonia. She regretted her decision to return to the ginn. Now, she would pay the ultimate price for that decision.
Twenty Redum soldiers formed a line in the hallway and moved toward her. Quickly she assessed all possible means of escape and realized that she would have to fight her way out. They were not going to take her alive. She would not be given to Ningal or the zura to be tortured until death. Ningal would never get the satisfaction of watching her die like that. She raised the telenium up in front with an extended arm, bent her knees and took on a combative posture. The soldiers moved to form a circle around her stomping their feet in unison as they did so. The monotonous sound of them marching was maddening, and she wanted to cut their feet off just to make them stop. In their right hand was a three-foot-long piece of metal with a round ball at the tip. Electricity danced across the shaft as they lifted the batons up and faced her. She felt betrayed by Joseph and wondered if she had been set up all along. Why he had decided to pretend to protect them from the Roo’kall, then run away without taking her, made no sense. She was alone now, and he was off hiding in the tamtu etutu. If the boy really was her son, then at least he would be safe and live to fight another day, if fighting and freeing the slaves was something he had genuinely been interested in doing. But she may never know the truth.
The soldiers stirred and began to act oddly. Each shook its head and removed the metal head coverings that were designed to protect them from impacts. The helmets clanked and rolled around on the floor. In an instant, the batons were raised high in the air and they began to forcefully bring them down upon each other. Chaos surrounded her as bright flashes of light exploded into the air with each strike of the batons, but the soldiers seemed to do very little to avoid the deathblows. Like robots, they just stood in place and relentlessly struck at each other until falling to the ground. Bodily fluids splattered as skulls were split open and lacerations formed wherever the weapon struck. In a matter of seconds, most of the Redum were on the metal floor. Some appearing to be lifeless while others writhed in pain as a dark blue-green liquid pooled on the floor.
Two remained and sized each other up in preparation to fight to the death. Sonia didn’t waste time and grabbed the young female then moved as fast as she could to the doorway. Another soldier fell and the last one standing seemed to return to its senses, looked up at Sonia then pursued them. Sonia was tired and struggling to get to the ship. The intensity of the planet’s gravitational pull made the thin woman seem excessively heavy. But she refused to leave the abused woman behind and did everything to keep her legs moving. The muscles in Sonia’s quads, calves, and lower back burned and weakened with every step. Despite the exhausted muscles, she desperately continued to push through the pain as the sound of the Redum soldier’s boots drew near.
She was at the ramp when it caught up to her. With a sweeping motion, it struck the right calf and sent a jolt of electricity through her. The wounded Redum raised the baton over its head and began to bring it down just as a blast came from the upper section of the ramp. The round hit the creature in the chest burning a ten-inch hole all the way through, sending it backward. The Redum was dead before its body hit the ground. Sonia turned to see Ann standing at the end of the ramp. Her left arm was pointed toward the Redum. The weapon that had been built into her forearm slid back into hiding and was protected by thin bi-folding panels. Ann moved to assist her and the woman. The leg throbbed and was becoming stiff. The limited movement made it impossible for her to walk and assist the young female. With Ann’s help, she struggled and hobbled into the craft.
Joseph appeared and helped with the woman, who seemed to be regaining her strength. Sonia looked at him for a second and wondered how he was able to turn the Redum soldiers against each other. There would be plenty of time to discuss it with him, but they still needed to get out of Onsan and off of Isfahan. As they entered the bridge, three wounded soldiers managed to push themselves off the floor and began to reform a line.
The young woman held what remained of her tattered clothing and began to walk on her own moving toward the bridge. Ann was on the left preparing for liftoff and the young female moved to the chair on the right. Within a few seconds, she activated the panel and two screens illuminated. She armed the weapons and fired off several rounds that cut down the three approaching soldiers. Sonia looked over at Joseph with a raised brow that noted her surprise at the woman’s ability to control the transport. Ann lifted off and backed out of the small hanger spinning at one-hundred and eighty degrees. They were out of the ginn and headed for open space.
Chapter 16
The ride from the launch at McKay Point west via Manatee River was pleasant as they moved at slow soothing speeds through no-wake zones. For the first time in recent memory, Ayla allowed herself to relax even though they were headed into open water. It seemed that very little good occurred by the water, but despite this, she made every attempt to control her thoughts and retain optimism. Was it really realistic to think that every time they were near the Gulf, Atlantic or Caribbean they were going to be attacked? Several large brown pelicans with fully extended wings were gliding effortlessly in front of the V-hull as it cut through the river. The scene was peaceful and alluring.
The second they exited the pass and reached the open waters of the Gulf of Mexico, Logan jammed the leavers forward and the engines instantaneously screamed as the boat lunged forward and began bouncing off the wave tops speeding into the horizon. After a few seconds the boat planed off and Ayla had to adjust her position in the seat.
Anna Maria Island soon disappeared as it was absorbed by the horizon. It could have been attacked by aliens or pulled into the sea by some monstrous Kraken for all she knew, but regardless, Ayla longed to be standing on the jetty looking at the pelicans. The peace subsided and she began to feel eyes on her. Being so far from land and the reality of having seen aquatic alien creatures with such a knack for violence and aggression, was increasingly problematic for Ayla so far from land. The further they motored, the more vulnerable they became. The boat and open water were Logan’s world and he still seemed comfortable in it. If he was afraid, Ayla couldn’t tell. She wasn’t going to lay down any requests to return to shore. After all, she had demanded to go with him to the rig and hear what this Gunner person was going to say despite Logan’s attempt to dissuade her. There was a growing sense of regret and she longed to return to terra firma mere minutes from the pass.
To Ayla, it seemed as if hours had passed since seeing any sign of land or life. The alien invasion could have begun, and they would have no idea this far out in the middle of nowhere. A part of her thought it was silly initially, but then she let her mind cull through all that they had witnessed and endured. It suddenly didn’t seem to any degree implausible. Similar to the drawings in the Mayan caves, she imagined a sky full of strange flying vessels firing down on the island as it burned. She could see the terror on the faces of people running for safe shelter and hear their agonizing screams. Once upon a time, it seemed to be a production left for Hollywood to monopolize and far too unrealistic for the logical to give any credence to. Recent events had completely eviscerated the possibility of such occurrences being unequivocally nonsensical. It was now far more likely to be a reality than a fantasy. Being able to play her part and help, made participating in the meeting all the more critical.
If she had not answered the call from Dr. Smith and had av
oided the site near Tulum, John would be alive, and the alien creatures would not have followed her. Now, despite the validity of the story told to them by Honoré, Logan was involved and at significant risk. She pulled him in at the bar on St. Lucia not many days ago inadvertently getting him involved. It wasn’t like he had attempted to hit on her with some cheesy pickup line. There was an inability to fight feeling guilty, selfish and responsible. Logan had already been attacked. If he died, his blood was on her hands, just as John’s was. Regardless of how she chastised and cast blame upon herself, they would follow Logan now…nothing could change that. The American government, the monsters in spaceships, the thing from the beach or the like…would be following them everywhere they went. For how long, what did they want and when would it end?
Only God knew and she did her best to keep Him out of her life. Perhaps she should reconsider her spiritual leanings, Ayla briefly pondered. After all, nothing seemed to make sense anymore. So much about what she envisioned and extrapolated from what life had taught her was washed out with the attack in Tulum and was exacerbated by the tsunami. Ayla would always be able to see the dead on the beach in her mind and wondered if she had been correct about what happened at the end. As she faced the reality of her own demise, she wanted to be wrong. For the first time in her life, Ayla wished and hoped that she was wrong about something. There needed to be more. There had to be something else. Life, the human body, the way the universe worked as perfectly as a clock was all too complicated a thing to have simply existed accidentally. Ayla shook her head and waved off her thoughts as if invaded by an outsider seeking to trick her…take advantage of the situation.
Ayla looked beyond the water churned up by the outboards and scanned the horizon expecting to see some kind of domestic or foreign aquatic craft following them. To her relief there was nothing. It wasn’t a matter of if, but how the Feds were tracking them. Someone, perhaps several entities, had bugged every room in Logan’s house. Certainly, they had not have given up on them simply because they were on a boat heading west in open water. Ayla imagined that either by drone or satellite, they were being watched or followed.
No longer could Ayla look at the sea the same way. Once upon a time, it seemed peaceful, relaxing, and full of possibilities synonymous with long quiet walks, vacations and great times. The waves crashing on the beach at sunset and sunrise were intoxicatingly inviting and seemed to supernaturally heal her mind and add years back to her life; the majority of which seemed to be undone now. Most of her best memories had occurred at the beach or while sailing in open waters and even snorkeling, but now the depths and unknown were somewhat like a romantic fantasy that had been a foul lie and in truth was nothing more than something dark, horrific and deadly. The mysteries of the deep seemed that it may reveal the end of mankind or at least life as they knew it. How many alien craft were hiding under the surface? Man had spent so much time looking up when needing to spend more time looking down. Considering the depth and enormity of the oceans, they were possibly littered with untold scores of ships of those who’s objective was less than favorable for life on Earth. Now the mysteries of the deep had become a scary fantasy. The unknown was more terrifying than exciting. Earth was no longer the only planet or intelligent life she knew of and it was without question that they were not alone in the universe.
Logan looked down at the dash and noted that after running the quad three hundreds at sixty-two knots for over an hour had cost him over a quarter of his fuel reserve. He looked back at the compass and then to the heading on the Lowrance. He was unsure about the coordinates Gunner had given to him but could trust that the man who had dedicated most of his life to the Navy, was wholly qualified to give accurate coordinates. It seemed as if they were searching for a needle in the Gulf of Mexico. He looked up and across the bow. A speck came into view and he realized that he finally had a visual on their target. “There!” he said pointing out the abandoned rig to Ayla.
She moved to his side and squinted while looking. It was there all by itself in the vastness of the Gulf. “I was getting a little concerned that we had missed it.”
“Well, if it’s there, it’s kind of hard to miss with today’s technology. But I was starting to have my own doubts,” Logan admitted.
“Have you ever heard of Thor Heyerdahl?” Ayla asked.
“No, why?” he gave her a puzzled look.
“He was one of the primary reasons why I became an archaeologist. His background was fairly diverse. He was a zoologist, an archaeologist, and geologist…but more than that, he was an adventurer. It was his sense of adventure that I found alluring. In nineteen-forty-seven, he and five other chaps hand built a raft and sailed it something like 4,971 miles across the Pacific Ocean. It took one hundred and one days until they crashed into a reef at Raroia in Tuamotus. But they made it safely and returned to tell the tales,” she was looking forward and her long black hair was working its way loose from the bun on the back of her head.
“Yes, I think I do recall that story. Pretty ballsy.”
“Yeah right. Do you know why he did it?” She asked.
“Not really. The sense of adventure. A story to tell? Made a bet he couldn’t get out of?” he chuckled.
“Nah, he simply wanted to prove that it could be done,” she was still looking forward.
He looked at Ayla in an inquisitive manner seeking the exact relevance of the point she was making. Without returning his stare, she said, “I didn’t ask for any of this. My goal was to help out a colleague I admired. I wasn’t bloody well trying to prove anything or make a great discovery of the worlds beyond what we have known. Alien beings were not on my bucket list of things to discover or prove exist. They revealed themselves to us. They killed everyone…well, Doctor Smith was never found. Now, like Heyerdahl, I feel like I am on a boat in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, only there is nothing but open water in front of me with a lot more at stake than proving a point. I’m not sure where any of this goes…how it ends, or if we will live to tell the tales.
“I am sorry I pulled you into this mess. It was wrong of me to use you the way I did. I should have just notified the resort security.”
It made sense to Logan then. “There is no reason to keep apologizing. None of this is your fault. We have no choice but to see it through at this point. Just like Mr. Heyerdahl and his companions, we’re going to make it. I am not sure where all of this leads, but we will make it…don’t lose faith. We will have plenty of tales to tell and we are going to tell them together!” he reached out and gently squeezed her hand.
She nearly chuckled as faith was something she was not certain that she ever possessed. She placed her arm around his lower back and rested her head on his chest. Logan responded by wrapping his right arm around her. It felt good to hold someone, to be held, again. It had been such a long time since anyone had gotten close to her and Ayla wasn’t sure that she ever would again. In the time they were together, he made no advances or attempts to do anything improper. He seemed focused solely on the situation and trying to figure out the next step in finding a resolution…plotting and planning. She had almost taken it as a sign of rejection and wondered if Logan had perhaps found her unattractive. But she did not doubt her attraction to him. But then, she considered, all men were the same. If there was a relationship, he would certainly turn on her as the others had done in the past. It was a fool’s errand and the dreams of little girls. She kissed him on the cheek and removed her arm from is back. She was surprised when he caught her hand, brought it up to his face and kissed the back of it. Ayla nearly blushed and returned a smile.
Logan turned back to the bow, “The craziest thing, I had no idea this rig was out here. I’ve been all over the Gulf and had no idea this was here.”
“What is it?” she brushed the hair from her eyes to get a better look.
“A rig…drilling platform. Only, you can’t drill off the Floridian coast. This is not supposed to be here. Texas, Louisiana…sure, but not here. I
doubt it was ever active,” Logan replied.
As they approached, he could see the landing platform, crew’s quarters and storage containers on what was intended to be the pipe deck. Below the platform was another level that was walled off with metal and appeared to have more storage. The steel platform rose nearly forty feet above the water’s surface supported by steel columns that plunged, according to the depth on the Lowrance, two-hundred feet to the seafloor. Rusted steel and flaking sky-blue paint were a significant sign that the rig was poorly maintained and had long since been abandoned if ever occupied or operational. He pulled back the lever and let the boat slowly motor forward as he observed the rig in search of signs of life.
“That would get to be quite annoying,” Ayla said regarding a deep-toned beeping sound that was broadcast to warn those involved in maritime activities during times of poor visibility that the ghostly structure was there.
The seas were three to four feet and crystal clear as one would expect for the Gulf waters off the Floridian coast. Logan approached the base of the rig and put the outboards in neutral. A light easterly wind began to blow the boat slowly away from the rig. “We will need to hook up on this side.” He turned the stern toward the rig and pulled down the lever putting the powerful outboards in reverse. The Yellowfin obeyed and moved back toward the aging structure near the landing platform and stairs. When it seemed as if they were going to run into a stanchion, he pushed the lever up and the engines idled. The breeze immediately began to push the boat away from the rig. Logan grabbed a ten-foot-long pole with a two-foot hook at the end and tossed it over a horizontal support and secured it to a cleat.
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