Cursed Days (Trilogy of the Chosen Book 3)

by J. M. LeDuc

  “What did you do?” asked Alana.

  Seven looked at Brent to see if he should continue. He nodded his affirmative. Seven repacked his lip with tobacco and then continued the story. “Finding them was the easy part. Trying to figure a way to get them out wasn’t. We knew that if we were successful in getting the first camp cleared out, the North Vietnamese would be on us like ants at a picnic. There would never be a chance to get the rest of them.”

  “Why not just come back at another time and get the rest?”

  “Because, Bishop, from what we had witnessed, we knew that they continually moved the captives from one place to another. Finding them again would be near impossible. We had one chance and one chance only to get everybody out.”

  Thinking back to that time, Seven lowered his head and shook it back and forth. “Did you?” Alana asked. “Did you get them out?”

  Brent knew what Seven had been through during that mission and he knew that his friend had never talked about it before. By the looks of things, it didn’t look like he was ready to talk about it now. Brent squeezed his buddy’s arm. “We did.” He looking down at his watch, “but now is not the time to finish the story.” Brent slapped Seven on the back, saying, “Sorry to cut your story short buddy, but we have an Ark to find.”

  Seven eyed Brent with an expression of thanks. They gathered and packed their gear. Brent continued to tell the others what he found. “Suffice to say, the traps are similar in nature to the ones we encountered during that mission. They are all set to trigger when weight is added to the ground, but even more ingenious, they are geared to trigger when the second person steps on them.

  “If the information we received from Joan was accurate about the American Archeologist finding the Ark, chances are he came in the same way we did. If it’s true that he was alone, then that’s the reason he made it in unscathed. There was no second foot fall to trigger or detonate the traps.”

  Throwing his backpack onto his shoulders and switching on his headlamp, Brent said, “I’ll lead from this point out. Everyone keep ten feet between each other until I say differently. Let’s move out.”

  As they walked, the tunnel began to close in around them.

  “This place is starting to make my skin crawl.”

  Alana glanced back at Bishop Jessup. “I’m getting the same feeling,” she said. “It’s as if the walls have eyes.”

  As the cave continued to narrow, they would later swear that they were being watched.

  The Bishop wiped the sweat from his eyes. “I’m glad I’m not the only one freaked out.”

  “There is something. . . something not natural down here,” Seven said.

  “I felt it the first time I came through here,” Brent said. “It’s as if these halls are guarded by the spirits of those who came before us. I’m just not sure if they are guarding us or warning us not to continue.”

  Rubbing the goose bumps on her arm, Alana said, “It feels like a warning to me. If this was an ordinary archeological expedition, I’d call it off and head back where we came from.”

  No one said anything. They all knew that this was no ordinary expedition and that there was no turning back. After another hundred yards or so, Brent put his arm up to stop the group.

  The cave was only about five feet or so wide. “Just ahead is the first trap. If you’ll all gather around me, I’ll show you what I found.” Everyone crowded Brent, not wanting to miss anything he said. “I drew a line in the sand up ahead and another about six feet in front of it. Between those lines there is a pressure plate built into the cave floor. It’s meant to give way as soon as the second person steps on it. I don’t know how it was built, but it was and we have to deal with it.”

  “How do propose we do that?”

  Brent turned to look at Alana and then back at the trap. He took his walking stick and scraped a line where the floor met the walls. “There is approximately one inch of solid surface framing the trap, that’s our safety net,” he said. Before anyone could ask any more questions, he took off his backpack and threw it across the lines. “Everyone else can leave their packs on,” he added as the team started to take theirs off.

  Turning around to address the team, all expression had left Brent’s face, he was in mission mode. Looking around, Alana and Bishop Jessup noticed that Seven’s face was also expressionless.

  Looking back at the Bishop, she said, “I don’t know how they can do that so quickly, but it must be from God.”

  “I’ll be the bridge between this side and the other,” Brent said. When I give the word, each of you will cross over me. At no time are you to touch the walls with your hands. I didn’t have time to check them out, so I don’t know if they’re part of the trap, but if I had to guess, they are.”

  “Once I’m in place, Seven, you’ll cross first, that way you can help the others if they need a hand.”

  Seven’s mind flashed back to Vietnam and instantaneously he knew what Brent had planned to do. “This doesn’t give you much room to brace yourself, Colonel. Are you sure about this?”

  “It’s the only way. Once everyone is across, I’ll need your help. You know what to do.”

  “Yes, sir,” Seven answered.

  Brent squatted down with the toes of his boots just behind the nearest line he drew. Closing his eyes, he pictured what he wanted to take place in the following minutes, what could go wrong and how he would react if it did. Opening his eyes, he took a deep breath and reached out placing his finger tips on the one inch area between the wall and the trap making sure not to touch the wall. He then creped his hands forward until his entire body was completely laid out, with his chest barely hovering over the ground.

  As soon as he stopped, Seven took it as the signal to proceed. Gently as possible, he stepped on the colonel’s splayed out body and began to cross the human bridge. Once he was safely on the other side, he waved the others to cross over.

  Alana told the Bishop to go next. “I weigh the least. It would be wise for me to go last when Brent will be at his weakest.”

  Without speaking, the Bishop took a deep breath to help calm his nerves and stepped on Brent’s legs. Not being able to balance using the walls made him unsure of his footing and unstable as he continued to take each step. As soon as he was close enough, he reached towards Seven who grabbed his arms and pulled him to safety. The Bishop, heart pounding, leaned against the cave wall and slid down into a seated position in total emotional exhaustion.

  Alana was last to proceed. She looked at Seven who nodded and waved her forward. Before going, she took her boots off and threw them to him. With the poise of a dancer, she stepped onto the Brent’s body and softly made her way across. With the three of them safe, they watched as Brent lay across the trap. Bishop Jessup and Alana wondered how he was going to get across.

  She saw that his finger tips were now purplish black from all the weight that he had been putting on them. Then as if he were some world class gymnast, Brent slowly began to lift his legs off the ground. As he continued to raise them, he arched his back so that he was now in a jackknife position. Slowly, without hesitation, he continued to raise his legs and at the same time began to curl his head underneath himself. Now totally erect, in a handstand, he paused.

  “Ready when you are, Colonel,” Seven said, standing as close to the line that Brent had drawn without touching it.

  Hearing Seven’s words, Brent slowly started to lower his legs toward him. Arched in a back bend with his feet toward Seven, he grunted, “Now.” Seven leaned forward at the waist and grabbed Brent’s feet as they came to him, allowing the colonel’s legs to rest on his shoulders. When he was sure that he was stable, Seven gave the word for him to let go. In unison, Brent lifted his fingers from their place of safety and Seven slowly lifted his torso, bringing the colonel with him.

  As if watching some weird circus act, Alana and Bishop Jessup
were spellbound as the two, acting as one, straightened until Seven was standing up straight with Brent sitting on his shoulders. When his face came into view, they saw that his eyes were closed and his body relaxed. Alana wondered what it must be like to trust someone so completely and hoped that one day she would know that feeling.

  Seven stepped back from the line and slowly slid Brent off his shoulders until both men were standing on firm ground. Holding on to his friend and commanding officer, he watched as Brent’s eyes slowly opened and waited for the feeling to come back to his extremities. Not until Brent gave a sign, did he let go. The colonel nodded his okay and Seven took his arms away. The colonel collapsed at his feet.

  Seven waved the others back as they came forward to help. Reaching for his canteen, he put it to Brent’s lips. He sipped as second in command spoke. “Just stay down until you’re sure you have control of your legs. I should have known that you would wave me off before you were completely ready. Stubbornness was the one thing that I couldn’t train out of you.”

  Removing the canteen from his lips, Brent said, “If you knew, why did you let go?”

  “I just like to remind you from time to time that you’re not invincible. It helps to keep you grounded.”

  “Point taken,” Brent said, as he sat on the cave floor. A few minutes later, he stood up, and looked around. “Just one more thing to do and then we move out,” he said.

  “What’s that, Colonel?” Seven asked.

  “Make sure we can’t be followed,” Brent rolled a large rock toward the trap. With one last shove, he rolled it past the line. He watched it roll across the area and settled beyond the other line. A creaking noise could be heard as the large stone rolled over the trap. Behind him, he could hear Seven rolling another boulder towards him.

  “Ready, Colonel?”

  “Ready.”

  Brent watched as the second stone was rolled forward. Before it got halfway across, the floor of the cave gave way and the rock disappeared down into an abyss. What happened next surprised everyone. Moments after the rock disappeared, the floor of the cave reappeared and slid back into place.

  “I didn’t expect that,” Brent said. “Whoever made these traps was smarter than I thought.”

  “Egyptians,” Alana said.

  The others turned and looked at her. “Their technology and knowledge of physics were way ahead of their time,” she said. “I have heard that traps like these were built into the pyramids. I never really believed it until now. It had to either be the Egyptians or someone who knew of their ways.

  “These tunnels may have been how they moved Jewish slaves out of Jerusalem and these traps were how they made sure they would not escape. My ancestors told stories of tunnels such as these, but no one truly believed them. I guess we were wrong.”

  The team sat in silence as they tried to absorb what Alana had told them. Minutes later, Brent stood up, put his pack on and motioned everyone to move out. “That was yesterday,” he said. “We have today and the future to worry about.”

  CHAPTER 38

  “Same formation as before,” he ordered, as he began to walk on. An hour later, Brent again stopped the team and motioned for them to gather around. By this time the cave had widened a bit, but the ceiling was much lower. “The next two traps lay just ahead,” he said. “Again, you’ll find a line scratched into the cave surface. I’ve estimated that the end of the trap is a good fifteen feet from here. The first trap is built into the walls of the cave.” He pointed to the walls on either side. “Do you see those holes in the walls? That’s what tipped me off that there might be a trap here. If I’m not mistaken, when we step onto the area ahead of us, spikes or something similar will shoot out of those holes and impale whoever tries to cross.”

  “Dear God.”

  Brent looked at the Bishop. “That’s not all. Once past the point where the holes stop, there is a second trap. You see how the ceiling gets much higher right after the holes end, well if you’ll look at it through these binoculars, you’ll find the second trap.” He handed the night vision binoculars to Seven, who saw what the colonel was talking about and handed them to the others. After they all had a chance to look, Brent continued. “Those huge stalactites are all carved at their base. Only a small core holds them to the ceiling. Any amount of vibration will bring them down on top of whoever stands beneath them.

  “My guess is that there is a second pressure plate right after the first. If someone were lucky enough not to be impaled, they would be greeted by being crushed the moment they took another step forward.”

  “How did you see these traps? They are so well hidden, I never would have even thought to look,” Alana said.

  “I was trained by the best.”

  As he spoke he flashed back to his Phantom Squad training.

  “Always try to put yourself in the mind of the enemy,” Seven said.

  “If you can figure out what they’re thinking, then you can always out-think them and always get the jump on them. If you want to survive in this squad, you’re always going to have to think this way. As soon as you think, ‘what should I do’ instead of what the enemy is doing, that’s when you’re dead.”

  “How do we get across?” Bishop Jessup asked. “That human bridge trick isn’t going to work here.”

  Seven spit on the line drawn in the sand. “You can always be counted on for stating the obvious, padre. That’s what I love about you.”

  Brent grinned at Seven’s words. “We fly across, Bishop,” he said.

  Bishop Jessup’s shoulders dropped in defeat. Shaking his head, he said, “I’m not even going to ask, just tell me what I have to do.”

  Seven slapped him on the back. “That’s more like it. Now you’re thinking like a soldier.”

  Brent took his pack off and pulled out the rope and a grappling hook. Tying the two together, he told the others to stand back. Swinging the rope and hook in as wide a circle as he could, Brent let the hook fly across the divide, up towards the ceiling. On the third try, the hook sank its sharp claws deep into the limestone ceiling thirty feet ahead. Pulling the rope tight, Brent told Seven to grab hold of the rope and together they pulled as hard as they could, sinking the claws of the hook even deeper into the limestone.

  The Colonel addressed Seven. “You’ll go first. Once across, tie a rock to the end of the rope and send it back this way.” He nodded. “I’ll send the Bishop and then Alana over to you. I’ll go last.” Addressing the team, he said, “This is no time for fear or for second guessing. You’ll do exactly as you are told, no questions asked.” Handing the rope to Seven, Brent motioned for him to go.

  He grabbed the rope as high up as he could and stepped back as far as possible, with one final pull, Seven ran as fast as he could and lifted his feet just before they crossed the line. The others watched as he flew across the fifteen foot divide and then some. He slid down the rope once he was a good ten feet past where he needed to be. “All good on this side, Colonel,” he said.

  “Ten-four; send it back when ready.”

  Seven used his boot to kick loose a stalagmite. Tying it to the end of the rope, he gave word and sent it back. Brent caught it at the other end.

  Motioning the Bishop to stand next to him and tied the rope like a harness to his legs and waist. “All you have to do is hold on, padre, we’ll do the rest.” Bishop Jessup didn’t answer; he just reached up and grabbed the rope with all his might. Brent grabbed him around the waist and dragged him backward as far as he could. “When I say so, you lift your feet and don’t lower them until Seven tells you to, got it?”

  The Bishop just nodded, looking straight ahead. “Good boy,” Brent said. “On the count of three, lift your feet up.” The colonel swung him forward, holding on to his waist. “One,” he said. He then repeated the action. “Two,” again he swung him forward and then back. He yelled, “three!” pushing him as hard a
s he could. Brent let the Bishop go and watched him fly through the air.

  The stalagmite was still attached to the end of the rope, so Seven had something to grab onto as the Bishop came swinging towards him. He grabbed it and dug his boots into the ground in order to stop the momentum of the rope so the Bishop wouldn’t start swinging back.

  The rope was pulled taught and Bishop Jessup felt a tug on the rope as he hung in the air. He was too high for Seven to reach and had to be talked down from his perch.

  “Padre, I need you to reach down with one hand and pull that loop in the rope. That’s gonna loosen the harness that you’re attached to. Once you pull that loop re-grab the rope and slide down to me. I’ll grab you as soon as you’re low enough.”

  Bishop Jessup was tentative, but he lowered one hand and felt for the loop. As soon as he pulled, he felt the rope between his legs and around his waist give way. Quickly, he reached up and held on like his life depended on it. “Good job, padre,” Seven said as he wrapped the end of the rope around his waist. Reaching up with both hands, he said, “Now start to lower yourself down, I’ll do the rest.” As if on cruise control, the Bishop did as he was told and soon felt hands around his waist. “You can let go now, I’ve got you,” Seven said.

  Safely on the other side, Bishop Jessup blessed himself repeatedly, thanking God for giving him the strength to do what he had done.

  Seven looked at his friend, smiled, spit a good wad of tobacco juice on the ground and sent the rope back.

  Brent took the rope and motioned Alana to stand beside him. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she said. Her body shook with fear.

  The colonel turned her toward him and took her face in his hands. With a tender touch he wiped her hair away from her eyes and said, “You’re one of the bravest people I have ever known. This is a piece of cake. You’re going to be fine. Just do as I tell you.” Alana just stood there as a tear fell down her cheek. Brent never took his eyes off of her as he tied the rope around her, just as he had the Bishop. “Are you ready?” he asked.