The Treasures of Death Valley

by Tom Hunter

  “I don’t get it. You’re the spelunking expert, right?” Robbie asked.

  “Right,” answered Pediah.

  “Then, this should be a no-brainer for you,” Robbie continued, demonstrating one foot in front of the other.

  Pediah smiled, “You’re right, Robbie. A routine spelunking expedition. No-brainer. No problem. This, however… It’s just the memory of last time we were here, holding me prisoner to this spot. It’s the memory of what we couldn’t stop.”

  “I think about Howard every day. I know you know that,” Thomas said softly. “Remember, this expedition is dedicated to his memory. But this is different. And as for the villains in our tale, it was only the book Noah was after. The journal. They must be miles away from here by now.”

  As if expressing his fears out loud helped lighten his load, Pediah smiled at Thomas’s impassioned speech, and stepped onto the bridge, his long legs bringing him quickly to the other side.

  The body was a little farther in than they’d at first been able to see, so they began a slow climb up a steep slope. At this point, Thomas thought, cause of death is anyone’s guess. Miner’s pick axe, gunshot wound, could even be as simple as a heart attack. The bigger question is how did he get there stuck up on the stalactite like that?

  “Somebody or something is very strong and very angry,” conjectured Robbie as they reached the top and came upon the body. “Looks almost like he’s been…steamrolled.”

  The three of them stared at the battered and broken body, splayed across his cavernous tomb. The corpse was cracked nearly in two.

  “One of my sisters had a rag doll,” began Pediah, his voice far away. “One day the dog got hold of it and I guess the doll made some kind of noise. The dog flipped it this way and that trying to kill whatever was inside it. When he was done, he flung it from his mouth and… well…” he trailed off, looking at the body.

  Behind the body was a stone door; a great fissure slashed in it nearly from corner to corner. No hinges hung loose.

  “It’s open,” breathed Pediah. “Look. Do you think it was Team 3? Did they open it?”

  “I don’t think so. Too much power behind it. Someone or something flung it open with such force, it created a depression in the opposite wall. See?” Thomas pointed to the wall but couldn’t take his eyes from the room inside. Pediah nodded in acquiescence, but couldn’t look away from what the wide-open door now revealed.

  In the center of the room sat a small stone table, with a cracked clay pot centered atop it. They were the only furniture and decoration, save for the paintings that covered the walls.

  Pediah bowed his head over the body, clasped his hands in front of him, and whispered in reverence, “May your soul travel safe to heaven’s gate. May you rest in peace. Amen.”

  “Dammit! What the hell happened here?” cursed Thomas, frustrated at the second death on his watch. “No man can do this. Nothing I know of is strong enough.”

  Lost in thought, Thomas didn’t hear the soft thud as Robbie fainted.

  “Robbie!” commanded Thomas, “we’ll need you to set up the radio and raise the guards above. Got it?” No answer. “Robbie, Thomas repeated, did you hear me? We need you to set up the – oh, I see.”

  Shit.

  “The boy’s passed out, Pediah. Here, help me.”

  “Do you think he bumped his head?” Pediah asked.

  “No, I think it all became just a little too real for Mr. Reality TV,” joked Thomas. “I shouldn’t say that, I know. But seriously, I think he just got a bit squeamish.”

  “Robbie, wake up. You fainted.”

  They were rewarded with senseless murmurs.

  “Bodies. Real. Dead. Real bodies dead. Not like in TV, movies. Real is real. Can’t get more real. Be sure to subscribe to, uh, hit that button. Subscribe. Follow me,” Robbie murmured.

  “Do what you can to revive him,” Thomas directed. “Here.” He reached for and rooted around in his bag to come up with a small canteen of water. “A little splash ought to do it. I’ll go get the radio set up.”

  Twenty

  Within a few hours, the cavernous chamber was awash with activity. A small group of guards and medical staff converged to assess the body and help to revive Robbie. Alexia and Abby surveyed the scene, with Pediah and Thomas providing what information they knew. Everyone tried to make sense of what they’d seen. On the bruised, battered, and broken body of Johnson, one bit of shredded cloth revealed his name.

  Robbie groaned as the medical team finished their checkup, confirming he didn’t bump his head.

  Thomas noticed Abby shaking her head vigorously. He moved toward her, and wrapped his arms around her. “Abby, he’s okay. He’ll be fine. The medical staff said…”

  Abby rubbed her furrowed forehead nervously, her brows knit tightly together, struggling to hold back tears, and gasping for air. “I – this, she began, it’s all so confounding!” Abby looked toward Robbie and mumbled under her breath, “And oh God, poor Robbie. I never should have let him – I should have said ‘no’.”

  At the sound of his name, Robbie came fully awake, and turned to find the entire team now in the chamber. “Abby?” He began slowly, “What happened?” he sat up and rubbed his throbbing head.

  Abby rushed over and knelt down beside him. She put her hand to his back, to help him sit up, and explained, “Robbie!” she smiled. “As to what happened, it appears you fainted. But, don’t worry, the medical team has checked you out, and you’re all good to go.”

  As she finished explaining, Robbie now sat upright, rubbing and shaking his head. “No. I bumped my head. I bumped my head on a stalagmite. I didn’t faint,” Robbie shook his head again, as if trying to clear the cobwebs from it, repeating to himself, “I didn’t faint. Bumped my head.”

  Abby looked to the others, and followed their gaze, as they turned toward the nearest protrusion, a dozen feet above their heads. Ah, so it’s like that, she thought to herself. He’s embarrassed and scared. Can’t really blame him.

  Alexia turned from the scene, with Robbie and Abby, back to Pediah. “I can’t believe Johnson’s dead. What or who could have done…that?”

  “It was shocking to come upon him like that,” Pediah replied. “I’ve only ever encountered one other dead body.” His brow furrowed and he thought for a moment. “No, scratch that, it was nothing like this. I was there when he died. And frankly, I’m not sure which version is worse.” Alexia put a hand on his arm. Pediah bowed his head. “Will you join me in prayer?” he asked her.

  In answer, Alexia bowed her head with his, her hand still on Pediah’s arm. They prayed, each in their own way.

  As his team members comforted each other, Thomas took the moment to scan the area again. He shook his head, sat back on his heels, and mumbled to himself, “Looks like they were just left here. The packs. Judging by the plates of food, they were just sitting down to eat. Sucks that their last meal never actually got eaten. Wait, why didn’t we notice plates of food before? Oh yeah, vault like rooms with cracked stone doors, dead bodies, and fainting team members. Guess our minds were otherwise engaged. Hmmm.”

  Lost in his thoughts and mumbling to himself, Thomas didn’t hear the soft approach of Alexia’s footsteps. A sixth sense kept him on an even keel, as she laid a hand on his shoulder, and asked, “I see your wheels turning, Thomas. What do you think happened?”

  “As far as I can tell, they camped out here to eat. Maybe they were reporting in when something surprised them. I think they lost Johnson first, then we lost radio contact with them.” He shook his head and shrugged, “Whatever happened, it was fast. But, I can’t for the life of me figure out what might have done such a thing.”

  But what was it? Alexia wondered. An underground beast or something? Inside she laughed at the absurdity of the thought. But, was it possible?

  Still squatting and rifling through the packs left behind, Thomas reached the final pack. He felt something hard and cold, then thin strands which slipped throug
h his fingers, then something soft. He grabbed, and extracted some of the contents. Thomas raised eyebrows on seeing his palm was filled with gold jewelry, coins, and some kind of doll made of leather.

  “Abby,” he called, “come check this out.” When she arrived, Alexia on her heels, he went on. “What do you make of this? Of these things?” He pointed to the scuffed markings on the doll, bits of its edges flayed and dusted with the greyish-white of mold. “This doll looks ancient, and if we go by the coins…they look almost like a type of doubloon.” Alexia peered over Abby’s shoulder as Thomas spoke.

  Still stressed and worried about Robbie, the dead and missing team members, and keeping the rest of the team together, she let out an anguished sigh. Then looking and leaning in closer, she sighed again, “Sorry, it’s just too much. This is great. It really is. And I’m glad we found something, but look around,” – she moved her arm in a panoramic arc of what had a moment ago been a grisly site – “there are no survivors to provide context.”

  Thomas opened his mouth to speak. She stopped him with a finger, raised for quiet. Abby continued, “Listen, though we only found one body, we still have no idea where the rest of Team 3 is. That worries me silly. While we’re coming up with a plan to try and find them, we might as well act as if this area is where the digging should begin. I’ll take those for later testing.” Abby held out her hand for the newly found artifacts. Taking a small box from her own pack, she placed the small treasures inside.

  Pediah, after praying with Alexia for the dead member of Team 3, found himself alone in front of the room with the stone table. It was the singularity of the only two objects in the room – the table and its decoration – that had at first garnered his attention. But then Pediah began to take in the paintings all around him.

  “Hey guys,” he whispered almost to himself. “Come look at this, er, these.” He stayed, staring at the images on the wall, awestruck by their detail. But, as the minutes passed, no one came. Pediah stepped to the door, back into the fray of activity, and saw the team scattered. Robbie was sitting up, still rubbing his head, but color had come back to his face. Thomas, Abby, and Alexia were near the land bridge, and he watched Abby take something from Thomas, and put it into a box.

  As if he could hear her, he imagined her saying she was taking the items for later testing and smiled. He called again, louder this time, “Thom! Alexia! Abby! Robbie! Come check this out. What I – we found!”

  Thomas entered the room, second only to Pediah, to see what he was so excited about, followed by the others.

  The paintings were of epic scale, completely filling the walls. It was as if the life they reflected had been absorbed into them. Large, bold strokes, revealed creatures as tall as the wall could contain. Some pushed boulders, and others seemed to be digging. Each beast of burden performed at the crack of a whip. The humans, Thomas noted, were nearly as tall as the beasts. As he studied the cave markings, he fished out the comb in his pocket, and begun brushing his beard.

  As he studied the markings, Pediah stepped closer, and in a low voice asked “So…what do you make of these?”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure.” Thomas cocked his head to one side in contemplation and asked, almost rhetorically, “Why do you suppose the men are as tall as the beasts?”

  Pediah shrugged, “Who knows? Maybe a symbol of power; man over beast. That sort of thing. But, then again, what of the whips? Are they being trained or led? Maybe they’re not whips at all, but something else, something that no longer exists.”

  Thomas stroked his now immaculate beard, “Hmmm…”

  As Thomas considered Pediah’s questions, Pediah went on, “What if…what if the people depicted here used these – these creatures, these beasts to build…” as thought began to truly take shape, Pediah spoke slower. “What if we’re not in just any type of cave, what if the creatures, the beasts shown here helped…what if these are homes?”

  Pediah looked around. “If that’s the case,” he posited, “stroking his own scraggly bearded chin, what purpose would this room serve?”

  “I think you’re taking it too literally, Pediah. Cave paintings usually represent a story; a myth or a legend. It’s abstract in a basic kind of way. Besides, there is no way creatures this size existed. Not to mention the giant men with the whips. I imagine it’s something more to do with a representation of the culture – whoever they were.”

  He turned to look at Pediah, who seemed a bit crestfallen at Thom’s pragmatism. “Of course, to answer your supposition about the room, that may be a little easier to figure out.” They both touched the walls, and traced the outlines of the depictions, as they spoke and tried to imagine the life of these painters.

  At last, Thomas took a step back, and peered out. “Huh. Mmmm… I just noticed something,” he said, and he pointed out the door back the way they’d come. “Look how well we can see the land bridge from here. It’s a perfect vantage point to watch comings and goings. This room may have been some kind of sentry waypoint. But,” Thomas continued, as he looked around the room and outside the entrance, “to be a sentry station or waypoint, we’d see torches of some kind.” He held up his flashlight to underscore his point. “Ours may have batteries, but any being living down here would need light to get around.” Thomas shone his beam in every corner. “I’m not seeing any torches.”

  Could whatever they were have been able to see in the dark? Thomas wondered, as Pediah asked the question aloud.

  The two exchanged wan smiles. Pediah shrugged. “Some kind of evolutionary thing? If you’re forced into a new environment, your brain gets…retrained, and the rest of you follows suit, or so goes my limited idea of evolution.”

  “Something like that,” Thomas replied, shaking his head. “Well, regardless of the whys and wherefores, I think it’s probably best if we record our findings so far. We can analyze our findings and thoughts about them later.” Thomas looked out toward the medical and comms teams finishing their work. “Time to get him – Johnson – out of here.”

  Pediah nodded his agreement, as Thomas walked toward Abby. Lightly touching Abby’s arm, he asked, “How are you doin’, Abs?”

  She turned and smiled, “I’m alright, Thom.” She gestured to Robbie beside her. “He’s fully recovered, too.” Covering Thom’s hand with her own in gratitude, she went on, “We’re both just still processing. Alexia’s handled everything remarkably well, for everything she’s seen and heard her first time out.”

  Thomas turned toward Robbie, “Are you okay? You had quite a shock.”

  “I’m cool. Thanks, Thomas.” Robbie looked at Abby, and leaned in closer to Thomas, as he whispered, “she’s calmer now, too. Though, she’d never tell you she wasn’t calm in the first place.”

  “I heard that,” chimed in Abby, her smile reaching her eyes.

  She took both of Thomas’s hands in hers, and thanked him for figuring out where the team was. “I know we didn’t find them all as we’d hoped”, she explained, “but at least we have a new starting point.”

  “It’s too bad we don’t have more clues to go on,” Abby conjectured. “Whatever happened to the rest of them, they left nothing behind but their packs. We don’t know if they’re hiding or hurt.” She looked to the body, as the medical team wrapped it. “But, after what we’ve witnessed, I think it’s time to organize another search team. Maybe add in some folks from the medical and comms teams, just in case,” her words, a gripping imprint on his mind, that matched the deep red marks of her fingers when Abby released his hands.

  Twenty-One

  Like ants up a hill, they marched from the mine’s entrance. The sunset behind them was a dark rosy glow, as the blanket of night approached. Thankfully, their goggles had infrared for better night vision.

  Ramon focused his binoculars and saw what looked to be a body wrapped tightly in cloth, carried on a stretcher. Next came a few more members of the same medical team, followed closely by those wearing headsets and desert camouflage. Ah, the co
mms team. And last, bringing up the rear, he watched first Thomas Knight come out deep in conversation with the weird Amish kid. They were followed by the Hogan woman. What was she carrying? Looked like some kind of box. His brow furrowed. An open box? Oh well, all the better to see what was in it. Jewels and artifacts were nearly dripping from it. Last out, the two kids: the Hispanic looking girl and the preppy boy. He waited a few more minutes, in case any stragglers came into view, but as the sun dipped below the horizon and night settled, he saw no reason to stay.

  Ramon had watched them in varying degrees of detachment and interest, but when he saw the treasure box in Abby’s hands, he slammed his fist on a stone. He cursed first in Portuguese, then English. “Dammit to hell! I knew there was a reason they didn’t want to continue that day. And shit, that means the Welker bitch was right. I did shoot too soon!” Frustrated and mentally kicking himself, he jumped and nearly belted one of the soldiers whose only crime was to ask, “What’s wrong?”

  “Hey, man. Ramon,” the soldier held up his hands to stop him. “Sorry.”

  “What’s wrong? What’s wrong is that I am pissed! The treasure is here. It has to be. Look!” And he pointed toward Abby, who’d already melted into the night, and beat another rock with his fist. “Noah, the little weaselly piss-ant, got it wrong. He’s looking in the wrong damn place.”

  “Seems like better luck, next time, chum,” sighed the soldier, shrugging in defeat.

  Ramon looked at him incredulously, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, doesn’t look like there’s any way to get into this dig site. There’s too many people around – guards, staff, volunteers, students, you name it. Not to mention our own site’s thirty miles away,” explained the soldier.

  A heavily accented voice, thick like chewing rocks, growled Ramon’s answer, “You’re right. Our site is too far away. But, I was on that team for the same reason I’m on this one. I refuse to come away from this empty-handed.”