Even though it was about fifteen feet high, it was built perpendicular to an imaginary flat surface, rather than to the slope. That meant the top of the wall was considerably closer to his launching point. He clutched the top with both hands, pulled himself up, and swung one leg, then the other, over the wall.
He threw his whip down to Salandra, who was digging her heels into the ground to slow her advance. "Here, I'll pull you up."
She grabbed the whip. Indy had started to reel her in when he stopped, raised his head, and listened. Barking! "They're coming again."
He quickly pulled Salandra to the top. "Can you stop them like you did before?"
She concentrated; her eyes turned glassy. Then she shook her head. "I didn't think it would work. They're smart. They blocked me. I can't do anything."
They dropped down to the ground, and raced for the next wall. Again, Indy easily leaped to the top, and tossed the whip to Salandra. This time, though, he saw a strange, frightening sight. The three dogs were leaping the walls with single bounds, and rushing toward them.
13
Land of the Lost
They bolted over the next wall side by side. Salandra, spurred on by the dogs, needed no help. But now the ground was nearly level, and the walls were too high to climb. They darted through the maze, sprinting down one passage after another. Every time they reached a dead-end, Indy expected to find a dog blocking their retreat. But the hounds seemed no better at cornering them than Indy and Salandra were at finding a way out.
The barking suddenly intensified. The dogs were nearby, but he couldn't see them. Indy and Salandra pressed against the wall, uncertain which way to flee. Their only hope was that the confusion of passageways would befuddle the animals' sense of smell as well as sight. The top of a dog's head popped above the wall just opposite them.
"Did you see that?" he hissed.
"What?"
"That!"
Two paws snared the top of the wall, and a vicious jaw snapped at them. The dog's muscles quivered as it attempted to pull itself over the wall. Indy raised his arm, preparing to crack his whip across the dog's nose, when it let out a sharp squeal, and dropped out of sight.
Indy didn't wait around for an explanation; "This way!" They raced down the passageway, cut right, then left, then right again. He kept looking back, expecting one of the beasts to lunge out at any moment. He knew the dogs could attack from any direction. He and Salandra could be running toward trouble, rather than away from it.
They turned again, and then he glimpsed an opening in the wall at the end of a long corridor. Beyond the wall was a grassy field, with a dirt road crossing it. Indy could hardly believe what he saw: A '24 Ford, like the one he'd bought last summer, was motoring along, heading right toward the maze.
"Look!" he shouted. "Let's go." Indy rushed down the corridor toward the field. He could see a man wearing a hat in the driver's seat, and next to him... Indy could see the man's face clearly. It was his old buddy, Jack Shannon. What was he doing here? Indy was within a few steps of the field when he took another look at the driver of the car. He slowed. The field faded, and turned into a blank wall. Indy pounded his fist against it.
"Jones, what are you doing? What did you see?" Salandra asked, apparently mystified by his actions.
"Didn't you see it? It was a field, and a '24 Ford. Then they disappeared."
She shook her head. "I didn't see that. But for a moment, I thought I was looking into my old room in Roraima."
"It's just another dead-end. I don't like this place very much. My best friend was in that car. So was I. Figure that out."
They backtracked until they found another passageway. Suddenly, the hounds snarled and growled, frenzied now as if they'd cornered their prey. But Indy didn't think the dogs were barking at him and Salandra. Then a wild, unearthly shriek cut through the air. It wasn't the dogs; it was something else. Something worse. The terrified shrieks collapsed into a single, ear-splitting squeal. A moment later, one of the dogs catapulted past them, and crashed against a wall.
"That was no jump," Indy hissed. "Something threw it."
"Let's get out of here," Salandra whispered. They edged away from the dead-end, while the terrible din of yelping, squealing, and wailing continued unabated. They were moving closer to the pandemonium, rather than away, but it was the only direction they could go. The clamor increased, and Indy felt that at any moment he'd be face to face with the devil himself. Yeah, maybe that's where we are. Devils and snakes and the underworld do have a certain affinity.
One of the dogs bolted around a corner and charged right at them. Indy snapped his whip, but the dog dashed past them as though they weren't even there. It ran directly at the dead-end corridor, and leaped the wall with the recklessness born of blind panic.
He glanced at Salandra, whose startled expression no doubt reflected his own. "If I had three wishes, they'd all be the same. Out, out, and out of here."
They reached a corridor that was wider than the others. Indy recalled from his brief examination of the labyrinth from above that the wider trails cut directly across the maze.
He reached a corner, and was about to charge down the passageway when the last yelp died away. But the silence was as frightening as the clamor. He moved cautiously forward, expecting some ungodly creature to step into their path. Running would attract attention. So would talking. They did neither. Instead, they crept along and listened. The corridor curved, and Indy couldn't tell whether they were retreating from the scene of madness or heading toward it.
Then he found his answer as he spotted the dogs, or rather what remained of them. They'd been gutted and decapitated, their limbs strewn about. "I don't think you want to see this," Indy said.
Salandra was looking away, but not to avoid the sight of the disemboweled beasts. "Over here." She pointed at a trail of bloody footprints. They looked as if they'd been made by a hoofed creature. Indy studied the prints, then dropped to one knee and placed his hand, fingers spread, over one of them. The track was an inch or two larger all the way around. "This doesn't make sense. It's walking like a two-legged creature, and by the size of its hoofs, I'd say it's—"
"Jones!"
He couldn't look up. A frigid wind swirled around him, stroking him with icy fingers. It burrowed into his chest and prodded his heart. Then the wind dissipated, and Indy forced himself to look up.
The creature filled the passageway. Its eyes, a pair of burning coals, seared him. It stood nearly as tall as the walls. Its legs were covered with fur, its chest leathery and vaguely human-looking. Snakes slithered around its shoulders and neck. It had claws for hands, but its head was human, except for the horns above its forehead. It had a prominant hooked nose and beady eyes.
If this was hell, Indy knew who he was looking at. He slowly stood up, and backed away. The creature moved forward and sneered. It pointed at Indy. "English?"
The thing talked. "Yeah, English. I speak it."
"Fee, fie, foe, fum!" The creature laughed and growled at the same time.
"Thanks for taking care of the dogs," Indy said, knowing that what he said sounded ridiculous.
"No dogs allowed." It moved closer, and now the thing was a snake with a human head. "What are you doing here?"
"Looking for a way out."
"Maybe I don't want you to leave." It was back to being the furry devil-creature again. "Maybe I want you to stay here with me."
The beast rushed at him, its massive arms outstretched, ready to crush him. Indy's legs wouldn't move. He ducked his head, and raised his arms, but the collision he was expecting never came. He looked up; the creature was gone. He spun around. No sign of it.
Salandra gasped for breath. "What happened to it?"
"I don't know."
"Did you see its head?" she asked. "It had three eyes, one on its forehead. And it spoke to me in my own language."
"What? It spoke English, and it didn't have three eyes. It had horns, but then it was a snake, too." He
described the creature and repeated what it said to him.
She shook her head. "That's not what I saw or heard. It was the body of a silver bear, and it told me that my father was dead."
"Look at the tracks. They're hoofs, not paws." But now he saw that some of them looked like paw prints.
"But you said it was a snake, too?"
"I don't know any more what I saw, but we're lucky we didn't end up like the dogs."
They started down the passageway. "I think it responds to our thoughts," she said. "You saw the devil because you think you're in hell. I was told my father was dead, because I'm worried about him."
As they moved from one passage to another, a luminous green haze settled over the maze. Indy's vision was limited to about fifty feet, but the maze kept him from seeing much beyond that distance anyhow. "I'd say the creature was just a hallucination, except I saw what it did to the dogs."
"The dogs got just what they intended for us," Salandra pointed out.
Indy peered down another passageway. "I wish I had a map of this place."
"We had a map when we looked down on the maze. Remember?"
"It didn't do much good. I couldn't even see across it. But where is the mountain now?" If they could find it, they could orient themselves. The mountain was in the one direction Indy knew for certain that they didn't want to go. He peered up into the thickening haze, but the air was quickly turning into green pea soup.
"I think it's over there."
"That way," Salandra said at the same time. Their fingers crossed each other. "I guess one of us is turned around."
"Or both of us," he conceded as they continued on.
"I'm getting tired. I think we should rest," Salandra said after a while.
"In here?"
"Do we have a choice?"
The thought crossed his mind that they might never get out, that he would die in this maze at the hands of some terrible creature, or simply from lack of water. "You know all that water we were drowning in earlier? We don't have any of it with us. Not a drop."
"We've got nalca. It'll take care of the hunger pangs and keep us from dehydrating."
"Swell. Caviar for breakfast, lunch, and dinner."
They came to yet another dead-end, a small room just large enough for them to stretch out. "What about right here?"
"I don't know," Indy said, warily, "It leaves us trapped if something comes along."
"If something comes along while we're sleeping, it won't matter. Besides, if there are other creatures in here, they're less likely to find us here than in a main passageway."
"I guess you're right," he conceded. "We wouldn't want to sleep over on Monster Boulevard."
"At least you still have your sense of humor." She opened her pouch.
"Do they have humor in your world?"
"What a silly question. We are every bit as human as you are."
"From what you've told me about it, your world is nothing less than a legend. That's the only way I can describe it."
"And this place is a legend to my world as well as yours," she said.
Indy sipped at the nalca, handed the pouch back to her, then spread his jacket across the hard floor so they could both rest their heads on it. "I hope this stuff doesn't keep me awake all night, or whatever time of day it is."
Salandra lay down next to him. "The nalca isn't like coffee. But it is sometimes used as an aphrodisiac."
He heard the softness in her voice, and wondered if her remark was an invitation. His eyes shut, and he drifted, riding a sweet tide of sensations: her mouth nuzzling his neck, his hand stroking her hair, their clothes melting away. His blood raced, with nalca, with passion.
Salandra. The name was running through Indy's mind as he came awake. Somebody from a dream. He'd worked late last night studying a Rongo-rongo inscription that was etched on a wall, and had slept in the cave. He sat up. Bits of the dream came back to him. Something about another world, a maze, strange creatures, dogs... making love. A whole jumble of things, none of which made sense any more.
Indy walked through the dimly lit passage. He wanted to take a look at the inscription again. Thanks to Davina and Raoul, he felt as if he were on the verge of cracking the text.
He stopped in front of the wall, where six-foot-tall creatures, half man, half bird, were etched on either side of the text. He stared up at the stylized plants and animals of the Rongo-rongo script. For a moment, Indy wondered why the wall was so well lit, since he didn't have a lantern with him. But then it didn't matter. The script was all that was important. He understood. At last. It made sense. Everything he'd been working on came together. He could read it!
The first people to populate Te Pito o Te Henua arrived from the underworld. Finding this new land was a great discovery. It was the first Gate to the exterior world. More and more people soon arrived. Boats were built, and many of the people sailed in search of other lands. But Te Pito o Te Henua remained forever the Navel of the World.
"Jones!"
Indy's concentration was interrupted by a woman's voice calling out to him. "Davina?"
He turned in a circle. Where was she? He couldn't tell which direction the voice was coming from. He took one more look at the engraved glyphs on the wall, then moved down the corridor, turned once, then again.
"Jones?"
The voice was more distant now. Something wasn't right. He wasn't sure where he was now. He must have taken a wrong turn. But that wasn't all. Davina never called him Jones, but someone else did. "Davina?"
No reply. He touched his hand to the smooth wall.
Why was it so smooth? And what was the source of this odd, greenish light?
The dream. It had something to do with that dream. Then, slowly, it dawned on him. He must be sleepwalking. The dream was real. "Salandra?"
14
Promises to a Maze
"Jones?" Salandra called out again.
Where did he go, and why hadn't he woken her up? She was getting anxious. She would wait a couple more minutes, then go looking for him. She hoped he hadn't strayed too far. The last thing she wanted to do was go wandering around this labyrinth by herself.
She had needed the rest, but her sleep had been tortured with images of Maleiwa rising in power and destroying the delicate balance between worlds. The Nazi leader, with whom few were now concerned, would gain power at home, then quickly expand his base. Hitler was fascinated with magical powers, and his intent was to pervert them for his own selfish purposes. Maleiwa knew this fact, and that was why Hitler was the ideal ally.
The Invisible Alliance, as it would be known, would afford Hitler everything he needed. He would consider the Wayua warriors of the interior world fearsome and perfect, and he would want his people to breed with them. With the power of the unicorn's horn in hand, and the warriors of the interior world at his side, he would be invincible. Until Maleiwa revealed his true intentions.
Salandra had to convince Jones not only to return with her, but to go after the alicorn. Without it, Maleiwa would have a much more difficult time luring Hitler into an alliance. But she knew Jones would fight any attempt to take him back to her world, and she wouldn't force him. It would do no good.
Hurry, Jones. I can't lose you now.
She had to stay calm. She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms, as she turned her thoughts away from her predicament. She smiled as the memory of her recent tryst with Jones came to mind. Their passion had been furious and desperate. It was as if the danger they faced had intensified their desire. Yet, Jones had been tender and considerate.
She looked up as Jones stepped into the entryway of the room. "There you are," she said, relieved. "For a minute, I thought I had lost you." She stepped toward him, but something kept her from hugging him. "I was getting worried."
When he didn't respond, she asked if he was all right. "Jones, say something."
He stared straight ahead, zombielike. He raised a hand, pointing at her. He opened his mouth, but no word
s came out. Then he faded... and vanished into the green haze.
"Jones!" Salandra rushed up to the spot where he had stood, and felt an icy chill in the air. It wasn't him at all, but an apparition. This place couldn't be trusted. They had to get out. Her abilities were weakened here. She had stopped the dogs, but that had been accomplished only with considerable difficulty, and the effects had quickly worn off. She felt powerless and at the whims of forces she knew little or nothing about.
She raced out of the room, her wild titian hair flowing behind her. She paused as she reached another passage. She glanced both ways, and tried to call out Indy's name again. But her throat was constricted and the words were barely audible. She bolted down one of the corridors, turned again. She sprinted to the next crossing point, and spun around. Corridors headed off in five directions. She had no idea which way to go, or even which way to return to the room. Salandra was lost, and she panicked.
Her mind shrieked: Out of here, out of here. Now. Now.
It was bright, very bright, and Salandra was in a place that was vaguely familiar. It was the university where Jones was teaching, and she was following him along a crowded walkway toward a building. It was the first time she had seen him, that is, the first time since she had held Maleiwa's alicorn and glimpsed its former owner. She had gathered enough about him in those few moments to trace him. And here she was, wondering how she would convince him to join her.
He'd barely walked into the building when several students surrounded him. She moved closer to him, and heard the students asking him about his summer. Jones kept walking as he talked about studying petroglyphs in the Southwest.
"Did you find anything really important?" a pretty woman asked.
"I wasn't digging for artifacts, if that's what you mean."
"Was it exciting?"
Indiana Jones and the Interior World Page 11
