Birthing the Lucifer star

by donna bartley

  Chapter 2: Vision Quest

  All along the twenty-third layer of sedimentary rock, as far as the eye was allowed to see in both directions, were prehistoric skeletal remains. Ghostwolf realized he had reached what was rumored to be the ancient order of the serpent clan. This thin band of maroon rock territory held the secrets of Uktena the Keen-Eyed.

  Dan Ghostwolf knew he must be close to five thousand feet down as he gingerly made his way down the cliff. There were bones strewn upon the cliff’s overhang: the bones of giant snakes, the bones of mastodons, and the bones of great medicine men, who had once been lured to this place and eaten by the great rattlesnake Uktena. Along the narrow margin of this vast country of bones, Ghostwolf decided, would be a good place to camp for the night. He was excavating in search of pink sapphires, and also the blazing diamond that had once been called Ulun’suti—“Transparent.” He realized while setting up his hammock, which would be hanging a few feet up from the cliff that he was in a very dangerous area. The great snake had never been found, and the ancient legend had never been dismissed among his people, the Lakota.

  The excavator hated being in this godforsaken habitat of brittle bones and stuffy air, where the artifacts of the dead were the currency and the lifeblood of modern society. But no one was exempt from the hypnotic allure of the Badlands. At various points along the layers of these many-hued strata of rock, mounds had been erected of the bones that had been sorted, sifted through, and discarded. Some paleoworld bones had been shaped by artists or tourists into the bizarre likenesses of totems, or supernatural monsters. The creations that lined the fissure became more grotesque the deeper one descended into the abyss; others had eroded and fallen off over the millennia. Ghostwolf had climbed down the great fissure to find the myriad bones of a long-forgotten past.

  Ghostwolf perused the ancient remains, and realized he was literally sitting on a gold mine. He stretched his hammock and readied for sleep, guided by the light attached to his hard hat. At only three thirty in the afternoon, it felt more like midnight in the pitch-black atmosphere of the fissure. He realized that he might have to use his oxygen tank now that he had descended more than a few thousand feet. He rested upon the hammock, pondering the sacred mystery. Whoever owned the Ulun’suti was assured of success in hunting, love, rainmaking, and every other business, but its great use was in life prophecy. Why his mind was continually brought to this crystal, Ghostwolf could not imagine; it was the pink sapphire that he had found five years before that he found so alluring. He patted the few dozen yogos in his pocket as he drifted off into a deep sleep …

  A white horse stood before him; a great warrior stared down upon him from atop the steed, beckoning him into unknown realms.

  Bang! Ghostwolf awoke with a start as his hammock swung out over the cliff and into the void, then settled back into place again. What the hell? Who else could possibly be here? Ghostwolf looked up; about six feet above him, some form was seemingly stuck between the two sides of the great fissure. He tied a rope around himself and found the spikes that he had hammered into the sides of the cliff; he climbed up the six feet to have a look-see. It was a dolly with a bag taped all the way around it, holding something to it. Ghostwolf tugged at the dolly, half hoping it would continue its fall into the abyss. He realized immediately that the form was human—a dead human. Ghostwolf tied the rope to the dolly, and tied the rope to a spike, and then dropped the dolly slowly to the overhang he had been sleeping on.

  He used his knife to cut open the bag. The stench hit him so hard in the face that he lost his balance, desperately grabbing for the hammock. He was looking at a dead man. He laid the body down. The dead man’s clothes said he was a well-dressed man—perhaps a banker. He then went through the pockets of the man’s pants and found a wallet. He opened the wallet and put his flashlight upon it, revealing a motor vehicle identification card with the name of Darren Jason upon it. “Well, Darren, this is one hell of a place to wind up.” Ghostwolf kept Darren’s wallet but sent Darren on his merry way.

  He decided to load his bag up with a few of the paleoworld bones that were just lying about and then ascend the cliff. He’d eat, get some rest, and start his ascent after a good nap.

  Ghostwolf tied himself back into the hammock, making sure that the ropes were sturdy, and tried to fall asleep. He realized that he had packed thousands—maybe millions—of dollars’ worth of dinosaur remains into his duffel bags; he’d be rich for sure. He took a swig of Injun whiskey—just enough to numb himself as he listened to the gentle swaying of the hammock, succumbed to the elixir, and slept.

  Dan Ghostwolf awoke with a start. Something extremely heavy was lying right on his chest. Two glowing eyes met his. He could not move; he became frozen with fear. He wet himself as he stared into the reptilian eyes of Uktena.

  The great serpent had laid his head upon the chest of Dan George Ghostwolf, and Ghostwolf knew for sure he was a dead man.

  “You are an intruder!” hissed the great reptile. “I will allow you to breathe … but first, I have something planned for you.”

  Daniel was snake food. “Are you the keeper of the great Ulun’suti?”

  The wise serpent was clearly not fooled by Dan’s quiet demeanor; he could smell the man’s fear. “Yes, and you shall have it shortly. But first, you must climb down the fissure and retrieve my servant.”

  “C-climb down the cliff?” Dan stammered. “I was just going to climb back up the cliff.”

  “No, you shall bring me the body of my servant, and then I shall bestow the great crystal into your keepsake,” the snake commanded as he slithered off the chest of Ghostwolf.

  Dan Ghostwolf, with great purpose and lightning speed, wrapped up the hammock and started to descend the side of the fissure as quickly as possible. He descended for what seemed like hours. He realized that no one—absolutely no one—had ever descended this far.

  Dan’s light beam caught crystals—large, beautiful crystals embedded among veins of gold—as he made his way into the void of the earth. He had reached another landing. He strolled along it, hoping that Darren Jason would be among the strewn red and maroon rocks and boulders; he searched for some time and realized that on the other side of the fissure, he could make out a form lying among the rocks. He would have to climb up the wall and swing himself over to the other side of the fissure; this would be no easy task. He checked his watch; it read 3:00 am. He realized that it would take him at least eight hours to ascend the wall of the fissure after retrieving the body.

  Exhausted, Dan George Ghostwolf finally brought the body of Darren Jason to the overhang where he had originally met the great serpent. He looked up and down the sides of the overhang, but he did not see the great snake. He decided that he would get while the getting was good; after unceremoniously dragging the body to a pile of bones, he started his climb.

  “Just one moment …” A loud hiss interrupted Ghostwolf’s endeavor to escape.

  “This is for you.” The serpent easily pushed a very large crystal toward Ghostwolf.

  “You must make sure this touches the hands of a certain woman. You will go now and find her; besides you, only she is allowed to touch this crystal. Anyone else, and your family—your wife, your children, your grandfather—all will perish.”

  Ghostwolf stared at the incredible crystal. Now he wanted no part of it, but he realized he had jeopardized the lives of his whole family; he must take it. He emptied some of the bones from his duffel and put them in his backpack so that he could carry the great stone of portent— Ulun’suti.

  “Just follow the information in the wallet,” the serpent hissed and then vanished.

  Dan Ghostwolf began his ascent at warp speed, hand over foot, racing up the sides of the steep cliff of the great fissure, making haste to leave the Badlands as quickly as possible.

  Elsewhere, in the culverts and gullies along the true fissure, the discarnate and their masters chanted perpetual liturgies to the ten thousand gods of darkness. Daniel
stared into the great expanse, seeing for thousands upon thousands of miles; his sight was unimpeded as he looked in all nine directions, seeing into the culmination of the consciousness of the people. Children of men were now memorizing the names of the ever-swelling numbers of the dead. Everywhere, the deep, booming knell of the Luciferian arm of the military marched to the hymns of death and cast up daily, its never-depleted plethora of fresh and diverse bones picked clean by a salivating population whose members contended with each other to possess the choicest treasures, beating back snarling jackals, vultures, and fellow scavengers—a bleak vision indeed..

  Daniel catapulted himself onto the grassy knoll of the Badlands, happy to be free of the blight and plight of the darkest corner of the earth. He climbed into his Land Rover and beat it out of the state park, thinking about that long trip to New York City.