by Tom Hunter
Abby, Alexia, and Robbie looked at each other and shrugged. “Why not?” said Robbie.
The blistering sun crept across the sky in its zenith orbit over the parched, cracked Death Valley, and the dark coolness of the cave beckoned. Within minutes Thomas Knight, his team, and Pediah Lapp and his spelunking team were gathered at the cave’s entrance. Everyone was on alert, with the events of the day before still fresh and raw in their minds and their nerves.
Thomas stepped forward, “I’ve heard rumblings…” he began, but before he could finish, a young recruit on Pediah’s team exclaimed, “What was that thing?”
“As I was saying,” began Thomas again, “I understand wanting to know what the creature was. But, unfortunately, we cannot yet put a name to it. We do know this. The creatures lived in the caves for many years.” Thomas stopped, not sure what to tell them, since he knew as much as they did. Nothing. “But, we did find something we do know something about—or at least, we can put a name to it.”
At the last minute, he’d asked Robbie to grab the drum. He now held it up for the others to see. “That drum Robbie is holding was behind a latched stone pocket door which took three of us to open. Behind that door—you remember Pediah and I talking about our first time down there in the caves, right?” he ventured. The spelunkers nodded.
“This place was on an even grander scale than anything we’ve yet seen. First, the paintings. They depicted life as it was, and this was no different. But, instead of your usual bison, fish, and family life, these paintings showed larger than life creatures—like you saw below—and a race of giant-like humans.” He stopped and paused to watch his audience.
There was something different about the air, or him, he wasn’t quite sure.
Thomas shivered, shook the thought from his mind, and went on. “We were in what seemed to be a temple complete with a stone altar. Against a far wall was an ancient drum.”
All eyes followed his finger, their eyes wide. Thomas spoke again and nodded to Alexia. “But, that wasn’t all we found. Alexia, if you wouldn’t mind?” She withdrew the scrolls from her pack, and laid them gently across her palms, amidst a chorus of ooohs and aaahs.
Pediah interjected, “You may think you’re full of ‘ooohs’ and ‘aaaahs’ now, but you haven’t heard the most interesting part!”
Thomas smiled, nodding in excitement, and explained, “Yes. The scrolls are written in an ancient language,”—he paused dramatically—“except for one line.” He let the question hang heavy in the air, anticipation for the answer growing exponentially. Then, conspiratorially, he lowered his voice. Everyone seemed to lean in, as if he were telling a ghost story around a campfire. He took a deep breath, and finished, “The one line was in…English.”
“Wow!” and “Holy cow!” and “No way!” peppered the air around them. Even a few sceptics added their voices to the fray: “gotta be a fake” and “really? C’mon…”
Pediah and Thomas looked at each other. They would have laughed, too, if they hadn’t already voiced the same thoughts just a few days before. Has it really only been a few days since we were down there? Thomas reminisced. He still felt shell-shocked.
“But, back to the creatures and the cave dwellers. They figure prominently in the paintings. Both their size and their purpose. Our theory is this: we think the giant cave dwellers either fought the creatures, similar to early settlers defending their livestock against wild beasts…or they domesticated them much like we’ve done to horses, mules, and other work animals.”
Alexia spoke up, the scrolls still in her hands. “Thomas, if the creatures are an example of domestication, then does that mean someone trained those creatures to attack us? And if so, what set them off?” She paused, then, as a new idea occurred to her, “You don’t suppose…” She shook her head to get rid of the thought. The questions she’d raised had tumbled out of her like water over rock.
“Don’t suppose what?” Thomas asked, turning to face her. As he waited for her answer, he heard movement and low voices.
Abby shook her head. “Thom, looks like we’ve got some more company.”
The spelunking team had grown. Seemed word had gotten out about their meeting in front of the caves. What had he said to them earlier? The more the merrier?
Alexia looked to the swelling crowd, and shrugged, “You don’t suppose someone might have, um, set, the creature on us, do you?” From the look in his eyes, she realized the thought hadn’t occurred to him. But, her eyes widened in horrified surprise when he pulled out his pistol. A sweeping glance around her showed the others frozen in place.
Everyone stopped talking and watched him twirl the pistol. Thomas wasn’t like Noah Ashbridge. What the hell?
“Relax, folks. It’s not what you think,” Thomas began, having made his point. “I’m showing this to you to explain what happened down there. In a nutshell, I emptied the clip into that frenzied creature. And though, it stumbled back, I think it was merely stunned.”
He turned the gun over, and went on. “I’ll admit, I was terrified, so my shots might have been pretty wild. I just don’t know…” Thomas realized he was mostly talking to himself now
“Excuse me, sir,” chimed in one of Pediah’s spelunkers.
“Yes?”
“We came here, as part of Pediah’s team, but some of us have no idea what you’re talking about. Creatures? You mean like a giant coyote or something?” the young man asked, an undercurrent of fear and confusion, in his question.
“I wish!” exclaimed one of the rescuers. He went on, “Man, this thing was huge! Imagine something like an iguana, crossed with bird-like features in its face, gray scales, but with some kind of fuzz, and claws. And, I’m talkin’ claws the size of the bucket on the backhoe. They don’t call those things ‘diggers’ for nothin’, ya know.”
“He’s right. That thing was giant. Thomas was the man! Climbing the rope and fighting the creature,” another member of the rescue team chimed in. Then, behind him, a chorus of “yeah, that thing was big” and “I was scared out of my wits” sprinkled with a few holy cows and reallys! for good measure.
Their colleagues’ confirmation sent a shiver through the camp, as those who hadn’t seen the creature, tried to imagine it.
“Thank you, uh—” Thomas remarked, looking to the man for a prompt.
“Isaac, sir.”
“Thank you, Isaac. That is a very good description. Can you draw?”
“Yes, sir. I was an art major in school before I switched to the archaeology department.”
“Excellent. Come to my tent later. I have a project for you.”
Despite having photos of the creature as rendered in the cave paintings, he figured an artist’s rendering wouldn’t be a bad idea to have on hand as well.
Isaac nodded, then turned to another colleague and whispered, “You should tell him what you heard.”
“Yes, I know.” He mumbled back. Then, as he stepped from the crowd, he called, “Thomas, Pediah.” The two men turned toward the voice, who continued, “I think you guys um…” he began, scuffing the toe of his boot in the sand. He took a deep breath, and continued, encouraged by Pediah’s nod. “When…I mean, while we were looking for you guys, we heard…or thought we heard…strange noises.” He looked up then, licking his dry, cracked lips. “Was it the creatures? Could they have been following us?”
Pediah frowned, and explained, “Oh, you’d know if they were. There’s no mistaking their sound.” He smiled inwardly, as discussion ensued between those who’d seen the creature and those who’d only heard about it. A little tension was good, he rationalized. It kept everyone on their toes, and their minds sharp.
Pediah had found his “tribe”, and basked in pride for his spelunking team, Thomas Knight’s leadership, and the efforts of his new friends, Abby Hogan, Robbie Blake, and Alexia Fraga. No, he corrected himself. More than friends. Family.
As Pediah watched the debates, he heard a voice above the others. Robbie regaled them with
stories.
Pediah felt a tap on his shoulder. “What’s wrong, Thom?” he asked without turning around.
“How’d you know it was me?” Thomas whispered.
“Just a guess,” he explained, as he smiled his goofy Shaggy-like smile. “I just did. Besides, something must be up. You’re letting Robbie lead the discussion.”
Thomas laughed, “You got me! But seriously Pediah, I feel something, something in the air. Something’s wrong and I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Explain,” Pediah advised, a niggling memory at the back of his mind.
“I just feel like we’re being watched.”
Two
Noah, Ramon, and Miss Welker were lost in their own thoughts as they returned to the surface. Basking in the sun’s blasting heat, they watched the workers they’d hired busily unload supplies transferred from their old campsite to their new one. It offered a more prominent place, Noah had explained, to keep an eye on Thomas Knight and his team.
Noah, exhausted from the effort of the battle and uphill walk, was glad to see his RV so close and hoped someone had kept the air-conditioner on. And a good valet, he thought, might have the hot tub ready to soothe these muscles.
Without looking back at Ramon and Miss Welker, he began to walk faster toward his cool oasis.
Still rattled from their ordeal in the caves, Miss Welker held her head high and walked purposefully a few steps behind Noah. She glanced at the assembled workers and noted approvingly the added security; a cautionary measure with their proximity to Thomas Knight’s campsite.
Clearing his men from the cave site as well as the equipment they’d used for Miss Welker’s ‘create your own entrance’ scenario, Ramon was approached by one of his mercenaries. “Hey, Ramon,” Gunther asked, in his heavy German accent, “you okay?”
Ramon felt, rather than saw, the same concern in his squad’s eyes. He nodded, then shook his head as if clearing cobwebs, “It’s not me you should worry about.”
He’d been watching Noah try to walk quickly and knew the man hadn’t really been in shape for this mission to begin with. “He’s the one who hired us,” he said nodding toward Noah, “so he’s the most important one. Just do your job and make sure he’s okay.”
Without looking back, Noah shouted, “I’m fine!”
Turning toward Gunther, and the rest of his personally trained Myriad soldiers, Ramon deadpanned, “Nothing wrong with his hearing.”
“Give it a rest, all of you,” demanded Noah.
“Now that we’re back topside, I’ve got work to do. I need to figure out what that stone tablet you found is all about.” Noah stopped and turned as Ramon and Miss Welker reached him, “You’ve got it? He asked, directing his question and demand at Ramon, who nodded.
“Give it to me,” he commanded, holding out his hand, his cane dangling from his wrist.
Ramon’s scarred and battered face usually spoke for itself, but from time-to-time, his guttural, gravelly voice prevailed. “Here,” he grunted, his voice devoid of expression, as he thrust the ancient relic at Noah.
“Gently!” exclaimed Noah, snatching the item from Ramon. “Ancient artifact. Priceless.” Noah smiled, “Well, there is a price. There is always a price, but I can’t sell something not knowing what it is.” Noah held the tablet in front of him, considering it as he might a painting. “It’s not a harlot in a bar. It’s like a puppy, unable to defend itself from your rough handling.”
Noah rubbed the edges, willing it to give up its secrets
Bill, Ramon’s latest recruit, piped up, “Some women like it rough,” and he eyed Miss Welker lasciviously. The others took a step back as Miss Welker took a steap forward.
Bill soon laid on the ground panting and in pain, after a heel came crashing into his foot, an elbow to his chest, and a throw down most of the men had only seen in MMA fights. When he could open his eyes, he looked up to see Miss Welker standing over him, her high-heeled boot pinning him down, and the legs he’d underestimated.
Ramon would have laughed if he hadn’t made the same mistake a few months before. He reached to help Bill up, having nodded to Miss Welker that he’d gotten the message. “You’re right, she does like it rough. But, on her terms.”
Noah glared at the men before him. “Great, now that everybody understands their place, let’s get one thing straight. On my contract, you play by my rules. Got it?” He then locked onto Miss Welker. “That goes for you, too.”
She shrugged, “He started it, I finished it. The end.”
“My God, that’s…it’s…” Excitement began to bubble inside Noah as he recognized one of the languages.
“What is it?” Miss Welker asked.
Noah mumbled something unintelligible, then looked up, “Oh, right. One of the languages is Shoshone.” He paused, “Well, Spanish is one column, Shoshone another, and a third language…I have no idea. But, Shoshone, that’s…” he trailed off, his mind already working the translation.
“And?”
“And, I only know a few words in Shoshone, so a direct translation is out. For now. But, I think this is a translation stone. A Rosetta Stone.” His eyes gleamed. Then, under his breath, “the writing is on the wall.” He closed his eyes, held the stone tablet close to his chest, and tried to picture everything he knew about what he’d been told as a child and what he’d seen so far.
There were more than pictures on the walls, he remembered. Sketches on paper overlaid like vellum arose in his mind. Paper and stone…the door! Something about the doors, he thought he’d overheard Pediah and Thomas say. Yes, writing over the doors. The walls, too. The images in his mind sharpened, and the vellum images, he realized, were the pages of the journal. Sketches, he now remembered, which his grandfather had shown him.
If Reginald had been able to show me the sketches….No, he’d probably just passed over them while studying the journal, Noah reasoned. He shook his head sharply, hoping to shake the nagging question from his mind. Miss Welker had suggested that Reginald had had the journal and then returned it to the mines. Maybe she was closer to the truth than she realized.
When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to see Ramon, his mercenaries, Miss Welker, and even the workers at the site had stopped. They all watched him intently. One wrong step and he’d lose control of everything.
Drawing himself up to his full height—little Napoleon at the ready—he placed the tablet under one arm, adjusted his hat, and explained, “I need to research. No distractions. If this is a Rosetta stone for those cave dwellers, then there’s no time to lose.” He peppered his speech with the crack of his cane against the dry desert landscape, and turned on his heel toward his RV.
Miss Welker had been watching him closely. “What does the Spanish say? Consider this:” She touched a long slim finger to her lips as she thought how to phrase her thinking. “If we can understand the Spanish, then we have the translation already.” It seemed obvious to her. But, sometimes, men had a tendency to not be able to get out of their own way, she mused.
Of course! Why hadn’t I thought of that? There were two languages of the three I recognized—Shoshone and Spanish. Noah nodded and turned to Ramon, “Come check my Spanish.” Ramon nodded and joined him, reading over Noah’s shoulder.
Pointing at the words and translating aloud, Noah read, “It looks like instructions for something called a ‘Kisgar’ (he pronounced: keese-gar) and the care and breeding of their…huevos? Eggs?”
“Yeah, eggs.”
Tilting his head to one side, Noah considered what he’d read, and remarked, “All of this for nothing. Damn!” At his team’s questioning looks, he went on, “I mean, seriously. I doubt eggs could survive that far underground.
Noah rolled his eyes in frustration at their blank looks, and said simply, “I’m going to get back to work on the journal.”
He turned as if to leave, then whirled back to face Ramon and Miss Welker who stood toe to toe staring each other down. “You two, keep an eye on the per
imeter. Try not to kill each other.” He turned around and waved at them backhanded.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Ramon asked. Miss Welker smiled, but her look said the same.
Three
“I think you’re right, Thom,” agreed Pediah. He jerked a thumb behind him at the caves and explained, “Just before we were rescued, I thought I saw…a shadow. But, it was enough to creep me out.”
“Hmm.”
“How are you feeling, anyway?”
Thomas looked at him sharply, squinted, then smiled. “I’m fine. Since we’re all standing here, and dying of heat exposure, why don’t we head back into the caves? We can bring a few extra people from your team, and Alexia’s as well. What was it you said, ‘the more the merrier?’”
“Well, I didn’t mean, right now!” exclaimed Pediah. “Look, you’re still exhausted. You collapsed this time yesterday. Abby’s putting on a good show, but I know these last few days have worn her down. How about a little recovery time before we go once more unto the breach?” He reached out a hand and placed it on Thomas’ shoulder in a brotherly gesture of concern. It was also a way to hold him back.
Pediah turned his head at the shuffle of footsteps and watched as Robbie approached them. His care-free nature was infectious at times like these, when tensions and worry ran high.
“What’s going on?” asked Robbie, who’d spirited himself beside Thomas. Abby and Alexia were close on his heels.
Pediah threw up his hands, “Thom wants to go back in. Now.”
“Do you think that’s such a good idea, Thomas?” asked Abby.
