The Immortality Curse: A Matt Kearns Novel 3

by Greig Beck

  A dog that was all ribs belted out to chase them for a few hundred feet, yapping and looking like it wanted to try and take a bite out of one of the tires. Matt leaned out of the open window.

  “Give it up, buddy. You wouldn’t know what to do with it even if you caught it.”

  Rachel laughed as the dog peeled away, its thin chest heaving as it was rapidly left behind.

  From time to time their driver would flick on the windscreen wipers to dislodge the remains of a bug that had taken a kamikaze run at them and come off second best. The blobs of green, orange and ochre stuck like syrup, and more often than not, the shattered remains of the insect glued to the wipers and smeared into greasy stripes.

  Once off the road and beyond the borders of shanty shacks, the three jeeps were able to drive in a V-formation and Matt settled into the cracked vinyl of his seat. Even though the terrain was flat, it still made for a spine-jarring race across the plain.

  In another hour Matt felt his lips beginning to scale from the dry air. He felt by now they were in the middle of nowhere in the back of beyond in the vast dusty deserts of Chad. In the distance a pale pink range of mountains begin to appear out of the shimmering heat – not high at only about 2000 feet, but steep, sheer faces of craggy rock that looked more like rows of teeth. The hulk of a tank sat rusting to one side, and a bird, probably some type of vulture, perched on its bent gun barrel watching them from one gimlet eye. Matt wondered whether it would follow them, hoping at least one of their soft, pale bodies would be thrown by the wayside.

  He turned in his seat, leaning one arm on the backrest. Rachel looked pained, and Khaled was studying a computer tablet, trying to hold it steady in the bucking jeep. He noticed Matt watching him and turned the tablet around. He tapped it and showed a GPS feed with a dot as their destination and an orange line moving toward it – them.

  He pointed to a numbered bar. “Another fifty miles, give or take.”

  Matt nodded and turned back. Conversations in the roaring jeep had to be shouted, and neither of them had the energy or interest right now.

  Matt lazily watched the small, dry shrubs and spikes of exposed rock or termite mounds pass by. It was unchanging and almost hypnotic, and if it weren’t for the occasional drift of loose sand or pothole, he would have dozed regardless of the jerking of the open vehicle.

  In just over an hour, Mohammed started to slow the jeep. Matt took off his sunglasses and wiped his face with a sleeve, before sitting forward. There were piles of jagged rock, like stalactites one would expect to see rising from a cave floor, but standing like sentinels in a landscape that was dusty, dry and seemingly devoid of life.

  Mohammed looked in the rearview and then slowed. “The Captain wants to stop, so, we stop.”

  Khaled got out and stood by the jeep, field glasses to his eyes and slowly scanning a shimmering horizon.

  “Anything?” Rachel asked, hands on hips.

  “There’s a clay pan basin, and according to my GPS, we will hit the dead center of our mysterious destination within a few miles.” He lowered the glasses. “Out there.”

  Matt had both hands up over his eyes as he looked at the landscape – the basin looked slightly sunken, but hellishly hot and dry. The fact was, if their cars broke down or the drivers decided to simply leave them behind, they’d probably all die long before they made it even halfway back.

  In the distance there was still a line of mountains that looked blisteringly scorched by millions of years of brutal sunshine.

  Abdul Ebadi joined them by the car. “This place is old. Geologically, there are only a few places on Earth like this that are not subject to earthquakes due to being so far from fault lines. Usually because they’re in the center of large, old continents like Africa and Australia.” He sipped from his bottle. “The downside is they’re usually damned hot and dry.”

  Rachel came and leaned an elbow on Matt’s shoulder. “Just think of it as one long beach.”

  “Yeah, except without the surf at the end.” He grinned, and rubbed the small of her back without anyone seeing. She winked at him and dropped her arm.

  Khaled was called apart by Captain Okembu who spoke softly to him for a moment or two. Khaled responded and it resulted in Okembu raising his voice and furiously shaking his head. Khaled in turn threw up his hands and paced away, stopping and staring out into the basin.

  Okembu folded his arms for a moment, waiting. But then he whistled and shouted instructions to his drivers who had been sharing cigarettes. They flicked their cigarettes away and headed back to the jeeps where they began to unload the luggage.

  Khaled spun. “Okay, okay.”

  Okembu and Khaled talked a little more, and then the Chad captain sauntered back to the rear jeep.

  Khaled joined them, sighing.

  “Trouble?” Rachel asked.

  “Captain Okembu decided this was the time to tell me that this area is taboo for his men.” Khaled snorted.

  “Taboo? That’s a good thing – usually means some myth or legend originated from here.”

  “I doubt it. More than likely he knew we were close so decided this was the best time to hold out for more money.” He almost snarled. “It worked.”

  “How much more?” Ebadi asked.

  “Ten thousand for him, and another thousand for each of the drivers.”

  Ebadi whistled. “An expensive extra few miles.”

  “Not if you have to walk back,” Matt observed.

  “Well then, let us see what we see,” Khaled said. “Before the price goes up again.”

  They loaded back into the aging jeeps and Khaled banged its metal side. Mohammed took off again across the plain. Sand drifts made the going slow, and a wind had kicked up that buffeted the open jeep and sucked the moisture from Matt’s nose and eyes. He was glad he was wearing sunglasses, not just to keep down the blinding glare, but also to act as shield against the hard particles that plinked on their lenses.

  Khaled tapped the driver’s seat back. “Slow.”

  Mohammed eased back and they ground along at about 10 miles per hour. Matt could see nothing but miles of sand, the remains of an occasional shrub that had long since returned to its maker, and the constant line of the jagged, pink mountains a few miles to their north.

  “Stop.” The jeep eased to a halt, Khaled lowered his tablet and looked around. “We’re here.”

  The dust settled, and they all sat in silence, staring out at the dead landscape.

  “Nothing,” Rachel whispered.

  Khaled was the first out, then Matt, Rachel and Saeeb. In another few seconds the entire group was out crowding around the lead jeep, and only Eleanor remained in her vehicle. Greta had been sent forward to listen.

  “Well, this is it,” Khaled said. “This is where your map has brought us, Professor.”

  Matt breathed in and out slowly through his nose feeling like it was being singed to hairlessness by the oven-hot winds.

  “Spread out, look around,” he said. “Look for something, anything, that could give us an indication of…” Matt stopped. He didn’t even know himself exactly what they were looking for. “Some sort of human interaction.”

  “Give us a clue – like what?” Rachel asked.

  Matt hiked his shoulders. “I don’t know. I guess you might know it when you see it.”

  “Ri-iiight.” Rachel jammed her hands in her pockets and meandered off. She kicked a stone chip 20 feet out onto a sand drift. “Anyone spot a big wooden boat, call the professor.” She grinned back over her shoulder.

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Matt touched the brim of his cap.

  The group spread out, ambling off in different directions. Captain Okembu and his drivers slouched against the jeeps, smoking and laughing. Matt could guess at what – here were a bunch of westerners and a few Arabs wandering in a sandy desert with nothing but scorpions, big bugs and a few hardy reptiles for company. He could almost laugh himself.

  Matt stopped and lifted his cap to wipe
sweat from his brow. Down this low, the heat was near unbearable. And there wasn’t even high ground he could use to survey the area and the mountains were too far off to be of use.

  He set off again, shuffling along, pausing to stop at rocks or indentations in the sand and grit. From time to time he’d look up and see members of his group now spread in all directions.

  The figure of Rachel was several hundred yards away and shimmering in the heat. He watched her as she meandered out, and then turned to wander back, kicking small stones as she came.

  Something the size of his thumb landed on his neck, stuck, and began to dig in. “Fuck off.” He brushed it away, and it relaunched itself to zum away, probably looking for another dripping body to feed off.

  “Rock,” Joshua said, lifting a flat stone the size of a hubcap and tossing it aside.

  Matt snorted, and sat down on a stone – nothing but sand, rocks and big damned bugs, he thought miserably.

  He sipped from his canteen, the water now the temperture of blood. Myths and legends always have a kernel of truth, he always said. He sipped again, swirled the warm liquid around in his mouth and spat onto the sand. Except for the times they don’t.

  Chapter 15

  “Another rock.” Rachel chuckled as she flipped a slab of stone over.

  Matt groaned to his feet. “Come on guys; we just flew halfway around the world to be here.” Take it fucking seriously, he thought. He stepped up on the rock he had sat on. It was about the size of a small manhole cover. He kicked at it, noticing how smooth it was. Water smoothed, he bet.

  He was about to step off, when an eye trained for decades to pick out the most indistinct markings made by human hands stopped him.

  “Hey.”

  He crouched beside it and used a hand to wipe the sand from its surface. The stone was about three inches thick, and rounded at the edges. There were definite markings on the sides. They weren’t in a language he could recognize, but instead just trailing away at the edges.

  Matt stared. Hundreds or thousands of years ago there might have been a settlement here. He knew that stones were used to sharpen iron and bronze blades for centuries. But something about these didn’t strike him as being random cuts.

  He cleared more sand from all the outer edges – the markings were only on one third of the stone, and just at its sides. He gritted his teeth and flipped it over. There was nothing on its underside, and he flipped it back.

  “Hey, wait a minute.” Abdul Ebadi had been watching him and now jogged over. He crouched by Matt. “Hold that stone up again.”

  Matt did as he was asked, and Ebadi grabbed it, holding it in place. He ran his fingers over the smooth edges, stopping to trace the odd markings at its sides.

  “I’ve seen something like this before – there were ancient stone pillars found on a mountaintop in South Korea. They were called jangseung and were used as message boards… or to give warnings.” He looked around. “Good, there’s more.”

  Ebadi dragged another smaller one closer.” “You see, when they were first discovered on the mountain, they were all in pieces.”

  “Like this one?” Matt asked.

  “Not sure this is like that. But putting the jangseung puzzle back together was quite simple, as long as the archeologists followed the patterns on their outer edges.”

  “The stones are both the puzzle and the key.” Matt rubbed his hands together.

  “Exactly.” Ebadi grinned and stood quickly. “Everyone, over here… it’s the stones!”

  The group jogged back to Matt and Ebadi. Even the drivers and Captain Okembu walked slowly toward them, obviously not wanting to betray their cool.

  Ebadi pointed. “These stones probably formed some sort of structure. I believe they’re like a message totem, but the message is on the outside and can only be read in its entirety. We need to try and rebuild it, to see if the message is still there.”

  Khaled looked around, kicking at a stone the size of a hubcap. “So we just gather the stones? Bring them to you? Some are pretty big.”

  “No, just locate them first. We need to rebuild the totem exactly where it once stood in case they have astral or geological markers – their position will be a critical part of the message.” Ebadi stood and brushed off his hands and made a shape in the air as he talked. “I believe it will form some sort of tapering column when reconstructed. The biggest will be on the bottom, so try and find a large flat base. The largest one we find will dictate where we try and reassemble it.”

  The group formed a ring and started to move outwards. When they found a piece they’d mark its position and move on.

  “Yo, big sucker here.” Rachel tried to get her fingertips under the huge stone. “Too big to even budge.”

  Matt joined her and knelt to brush the stone down. It was about six feet around.

  “Excellent, this might be the base.” He rubbed at its edges, feeling the lines and swirls. Even with his vast language skills, the squiggles meant nothing to him.

  “Another one, big.” Joshua held up a hand.

  Ebadi went from Rachel’s stone to Joshua’s, looking back from one to the other. “Rachel’s is biggest, so we’ll start from there.”

  “What happens if we find another bigger one?” Khaled asked.

  Ebadi spread his arms wide. “Then we start over.” He walked around Joshua’s stone. “Step one; we need to get this stone over on top of that one. We’ll need several of us to carry it, and…” he turned to Captain Okembu, “… and can you lend a hand here, Captain?”

  Okembu took a dry twig from his mouth he had been chewing. “My men can help, but you must pay them. You hired them as drivers, not laborers.” He grinned, his white teeth showing.

  Khaled snorted. “And they have proved to be the most capable drivers in Chad, and the most expensive.” He planted his legs. “A hundred dollars a piece.”

  Okembu didn’t flinch. “One thousand, and another thousand for the supervisor, me.”

  Khaled snorted. “250, last offer.”

  “750.” Okembu stood straighter.

  Khaled flicked his hand. “Forget it; go and wait in your cars.”

  Okembu stared for a few seconds, his grin fading. He turned on his heel and clicked his fingers. He and his three men sauntered back to their jeeps.

  Matt watched them for a moment. “Please tell me that you didn’t pay all their driving fee up front.”

  “Not a chance.” Khaled turned away from watching the men. “Only a small advance, and the bulk when we make it back. We Arabs know a thing or two about negotiation.” Khaled waved in his security men. Saeeb, Rizwan and Zahil lent a hand and Yasha stayed on watch.

  “Good.” Matt turned to the older archaeology professor. “Professor Ebadi, you supervise. We’ll carry the stones, but you’ll have to tell us where to lay them.”

  Joshua also lent a hand. His second-largest flat stone was extremely heavy, and together the group grunted and strained to lift it. But even together they only managed to get it about a foot off the ground.

  “Damn, we’re going to have to drag it,” Joshua said.

  “Not ideal,” Ebadi said. “It would be best if we didn’t disturb the surrounding earth with drag furrows.”

  “Try again.” Greta came over and wedged herself in beside two of Khaled’s security men. She gripped the stone, waiting.

  “Okay then.” Matt smiled. “On three, two, one… lift.”

  Greta strained and Matt saw her forearms flex. The woman’s fingers were large and blunt, and this time the stone lifted.

  Matt had heard of strong women before. In Nebraska there was Becca Swanson, an American powerlifter and wrestler, who could dead lift 680 pounds and squat 850. He bet that Greta would have given her a run for her money.

  This time they managed to carry the large flat stone the 50 feet to hold it over Rachel’s tabletop-sized piece.

  “Easy.” Ebadi crab walked around them. “Okay, turn about 20 degrees, east. Slow, easy, and… now,
lay it down, there, gently.”

  Together they eased it down into place. Ebadi walked around it, nodding. “Good, that will do.” He looked up. “Now to find the rest, and we must find them all to complete the message.”

  “I’m guessing we’re looking for the next largest,” Rachel said.

  “You got it,” Matt said. “All tapering toward the top.”

  They were lucky; the remaining stones were all found spread over a cone-shaped area, stretching out to the west. Some were in pieces and had to be reassembled, but luckily the fragments were close by.

  The reassembling work took time and care, and often the stones had to be turned, refitted and then re-turned to ensure all the symbols lined up. At least the work got easier as the stones got smaller toward the top.

  After several hours sweat-filled, draining, but rewarding labor, Matt stepped back to admire their work.

  “Ta-da.”

  Joshua stretched his back and then removed his hat to wipe his brow. “Well, we’ve sure got something. I’m not sure what though.”

  It was a tapering column of dark stone, six feet around at the base, just over that again in height and with a fist-sized flat stone on top. It might have held a capping stone at one time, but that was now long gone.

  “I expected a crucifix, or something a little more – biblical,” Rachel said. “This look’s more like cave art.”

  “This was erected thousands of years before a holy man was supposed to have ever been nailed to a cross,” Ebadi said. “And long before the Christian religion was even born.”

  Matt stepped back, narrowing his eyes. “I’ve seen this before.” He turned to Rachel. “We both have; remember the stained glass held an image of a pile of stones?”

  Rachel gave him a blank look, and then slowly shook her head.

  “It was there. I thought at the time it might have been a statue that people were kneeling before.” He turned back to the stones. “But now I think it was more likely to have been this.”