Fatal Green

by The Brothers Washburn

  Who would have thought it would be this difficult? Camm wondered, feeling sweat trickle down her back. She had to admit, if only to herself, it was mighty hot, even for a Trona native. Heat radiated off the rocks like an oven.

  Martha stood, staring out across the open desert. Shielding her eyes from the setting sun, she shook her head as if to say this whole effort was hopeless. Walking a ways down the hill, she sat in the shade of some extra-large boulders. She pulled a water bottle out of her backpack and took a long drag, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Letting her hands hang between her legs, one still clutching the water bottle, Martha slumped over staring listlessly at the ground.

  Camm knew Martha was not used to the intense heat of Trona. If you weren’t accustomed to it, the heat could suck you dry, not only pulling out all the moisture, but all energy and vitality too.

  Camm licked her cracked lips. The heat can suck you dry even if you are used to it.

  They had lots of water, so there was no danger of dehydration, but Camm wondered with the heat and exertion if this search was too much for Martha. Walking down toward Martha, Camm considered telling her to go back to the mansion. Camm could hunt for the cave on her own.

  So intent was Camm on Martha, she paid no heed to the large, dark form behind her, darting from shadow to shadow, slowly working its way down the hillside toward her.

  As Camm approached Martha, Martha hugged herself, shivering as she rubbed her upper arms. Oh no, Camm thought. It was way too hot for anyone to be getting chills. Dreading any delay in her plans, Camm knew she couldn’t look after a sick Martha and go to the alternate Searles Valley world to retrieve Cal at the same time.

  “What’s up?” Camm asked. “Are you shivering? Aren’t you feeling well?”

  Martha shook her head. “No, I feel okay. I just felt a cold breeze go down my spine.”

  “A cold breeze? Out here?”

  A light went on in Camm’s head. She remembered feeling cold the night she hid from the agents, in spite of the hot wind that had blown so ferociously.

  Excited, she crawled into the rocks above Martha, figuring cold air would flow down. Still she saw nothing. She looked behind rocks, under rocks, over rocks, but could not find that opening.

  Stopping, Camm took a deep breath. Putting a hand over her eyes, she blotted out the brilliant glare of the sun. She forced the anxiety out of her body, calming herself. I can do this. This isn’t too hard. I just need to think this through.

  She walked back to where Martha was seated. Feeling behind Martha with her hand, Camm could also feel the cool breeze. The cooler air had to be coming from the cave entrance.

  “Walk with me.” Camm helped Martha stand up. “Feel that cool air?”

  Martha nodded. The cool air was apparent in the hot blaze of the Trona summer sun.

  “It flows like a stream. Let’s try to follow it.”

  Standing together, arm in arm, they walked slowly up the hill, following the airflow. As long as they didn’t move too fast, it wasn’t that hard. By holding their free hands in front of them, they were able to follow the cool air as if it were an invisible brooklet.

  The stream of air led them up the hill to a small crevice among some very large boulders. Camm instantly recognized it. This was the place where she had hidden.

  “This is it.” She turned an exultant face to Martha. “Slide down into that crevice. You will feel the cold air coming out of the cave’s mouth.” Camm handed Martha a flashlight.

  “Just step down into that opening and wait for me there. Watch out for the petrified guard,” she gushed. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  A flood of relief flowed over Camm. They weren’t there yet. There was still a lot to do and a lot to figure out. But they were one-step closer to bringing Cal home.

  And yet, in spite of her relief, a small nagging feeling tugged at Camm’s subconscious, a dark feeling of impending evil. She didn’t understand why she felt such contradictory feelings, but she tried to keep the negative from overshadowing the positive.

  Martha hesitated. “Are you sure this is the right place? This doesn’t look like an entrance.”

  Camm nodded her head with more assurance than she felt. “Go on. I’ll be right behind you.”

  With trepidation, Martha carefully lowered herself into the crevice. Staring up at Camm, uncertainty and fear were written all over her face. Gulping through a dry throat, she turned to face down into the crevice. Shining her light in front of her, she stepped down and moved out of sight.

  In that same moment, Camm heard her scream, a terrified scream of real fear. Camm rolled her eyes in self-reproach—she should have been more specific.

  “Martha!” she yelled into the crevice. “I’m sorry. I should have explained. The petrified dead body is J. R’s entry guard. It is completely mummified and harmless. It can’t hurt you. I’ll be right down.”

  * * *

  Agent Allen stood with a hand to her chin carefully listening to everything Agent Kline said, pretending to understand. But she didn’t understand even a tenth of what he said.

  Agent Kline held the door open to the giant clock. Pointing to specific parts, he patiently explained why he believed this clock was no longer interacting with the grandfather clock back in Trona. Among other things, he was concerned about the clock’s failure to automatically recalibrate.

  “Ahhh!” Agent Allen nodded her head as if that was all so obvious.

  “Then, you see why the two clocks cannot be communicating.” Agent Kline looked relieved.

  Agent Allen gave half a nod, and then changed it into a back and forth shake. “No, I haven’t a freakin’ clue. I’m as lost as a nun on Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras.” She smiled at Agent Kline. “But, I totally trust you in this matter. If you say it’s so, then I believe it is so. So then, what do we do?”

  Agent Kline returned her smile in a gesture of tolerance. Then, frowning again, he stared abstractly into the clock’s innards. “We have no way of knowing what has happened on the other side. Something could be broken or they may have turned it off for some reason. Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “No, I think your guess is going to be much better than mine. What do we do?”

  “I don’t know,” Agent Kline inclined his massive head. “We could ride that big snake cowboy style and wait for it to transition over to our world again.”

  Agent Allen chuckled. “I take it back; your guess is not any better than mine.”

  She turned to study the clock when she heard Mr. C holler from outside. “Agent Kline! Agent Allen! Would you two be so kind as to come out here right now?”

  In spite of the polite way in which he phrased the question, Agent Allen heard stress in his voice. She glanced over at Agent Kline. His concerned expression said he had heard it too.

  Drawing their guns, they marched out together through the big double doors of the mansion.

  Mr. C sat with two other agents in the shade. Standing in a semi-circle facing Mr. C were five native-looking men dressed only in breach cloths. The men were all short, thin and dark, with long, black braided hair, except for one. He too wore a breach cloth, but he was white, with long, blond braided hair, and compared to the others, impossibly tall.

  Mr. C, still in a reclined position, gave Agent Allen a somber look. “It would seem we have found Mr. Humanistaid.” His somber expression slowly broke into a guarded smile.

  “Or rather, he and a few of his local friends have found us.”

  At that moment, the ground began to tremble, and then shake violently.

  * * *

  “This is not the Indian Joe’s I remember back in our world.”

  Cal scratched his head, scowling. There were similarities, the most important being the spring of water. The mountainside was analogous, but the trees and other vegetation that Cal associated w
ith Indian Joe’s were missing.

  Mr. S made no reply, only surveyed the surrounding area with a blank expression.

  Cal sighed. “I guess this world didn’t have a John Searles to discover the spring. In our world, Searles founded Trona and planted all kinds of trees and vegetables in this canyon. He created a garden spot we call Indian Joe’s. Lots of the plants, like the fig trees, weren’t native to the Mojave Desert, but ones he brought in from all around the world. It’s cooler up here in the canyon and with a constant supply of flowing water, his little garden did well.”

  Mr. S raised an eyebrow. “So, this is more what the spring would have looked like had the area not been tampered with by Mr. Searles.”

  Cal shot Mr. S a glance. “Tampered with or not, I like our world’s version of Indian Joe’s better. Though, this would still be a great camping spot if you were looking for water and game.”

  “But is Lenny looking for water and game? I don’t see any sign of Lenny.”

  Cal smiled. “Maybe I do.” He pointed to the base of the cliff not far from the spring

  In a sheltered area, a circle of rocks enclosed a small mound of dusky ashes. Cal jogged over to squat in front of a fire pit. “Someone has been here who knows how to make fire.”

  Mr. S joined Cal and kicked at the ashes with his foot. Then, he bent over and ran his fingers through them. “These ashes are totally cold. It has been many days since there was a fire here.”

  Cal was impressed. “Really? You can tell that by feeling the ashes?”

  Mr. S grinned. “I don’t know a lot, but even the bottom layer of ashes is cold. Granny could give a better estimate.” He glanced at Cal. “Makes you wonder who was here.”

  “Lenny and I have made fires together. He could do this. Still, I don’t see any footprints or other signs left behind by whoever passed this way, so it’s hard to say for sure it was Lenny.”

  Mr. S swung towards the spring. “Let’s refill our canteens and rest a bit before we head back to the mansion. I think we may need to take a new approach in our search methods. It’s possible that Lenny has found comrades to join up with. Perhaps we’ll meet them on our way back.”

  “Them?”

  Mr. S rummaged through his backpack, looking for something to eat. “When you were here before, did you see signs of an indigenous population?”

  “You mean like Indians?”

  “That is not a very accurate term, especially for this world, but I guess, like Indians.”

  “Well, no, I don’t think so . . .” Cal stopped as the world swayed back and forth, accompanied by a deep rumbling. He worried he was feeling dizzy, but this wasn’t vertigo.

  Mr. S reached a hand over to the cliff to steady himself.

  “An earthquake!” Cal announced. Having grown up in Southern California, he was familiar with earthquakes. An earthquake felt different from the vertigo caused by a transition, but the shaking ground was just as unsettling in its own way.

  Mr. S glanced up as rocks rained down from above. “We should step away from this cliff.” He reached his hand over to steady himself on Cal’s shoulder.

  The ground continued to shake and rumble as the two shuffled out into an open space.

  This is a long quake, Cal thought. I hope this doesn’t get worse.

  All of a sudden, a queasy feeling swept over Cal as the world around him slowly started to swirl. Okay, now I’m feeling vertigo. This is more than an earthquake.

  A dry streambed ran down a rocky gully only yards from where they stood. Above the dry bed, wavy lines appeared in the air. The ground continued to shake. Mr. S grabbed Cal’s arm with both hands to steady himself, but Cal felt like he needed to be steadied too.

  “Now,” Mr. S exclaimed, “we are having a transition on top of an earthquake.”

  The wavy lines coalesced and cracked open into a gaping hole about ten feet above the ground. The hole filled with the snake of Cal’s nightmares. The giant Mojave Green rattlesnake poured out of the hole and into the world where Mr. S and Cal stood within easy striking distance. Caught between the vertigo and the shaking ground, neither was in any condition to run.

  Cal instinctively reached for his gun.

  Mr. S placed a hand on Cal’s hand. “Your gun will have little effect on a snake that size in this world or any other, so let’s not rush to draw attention to ourselves.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “Hope it does not eat us.”

  XV

  “So, what do we do now?” Martha’s voice shook. She hugged Camm’s arm tightly as they shined their flashlights down the constricted throat of the cave. At this point, there was just barely enough head room for them to walk upright in single file.

  “Let’s see. We have entered in at the strait and narrow gate, so the next part is: “Proceed forward without deviation. Do not be as Lot’s wife; only continue as you commenced.”

  Camm scratched her head. “I guess I know what proceeding forward without deviation means. We just go down into the cave along the main tunnel without turning right or left. But you’re the Bible scholar here, what’s the deal with Lot’s wife?”

  . . . here!

  Camm gave an involuntary shiver and wondered why she felt such negative feelings.

  For some reason, the cave didn’t feel right. Camm led the way, walking carefully down the narrow path further into the cave. Her flashlight illuminated the tunnel for several yards before darkness absorbed all light, leaving complete blackness beyond that. The path they trod was well worn and smooth, but they proceeded slowly. Neither Camm nor Martha was in a hurry.

  “Everyone knows the story of Lot’s wife,” Martha explained. “Lot took his family out of Sodom before God destroyed it. They were told not to look back, but Lot’s wife couldn’t resist looking back at the home she had just left, and God turned her into a pillar of salt.”

  Martha sounded stronger. Talking helped her deal with her fears.

  . . . smell you!

  Camm shuddered in spite of herself and tried to shake off the nagging sense of dread.

  “Well, I don’t know about turning into a pillar of salt,” Camm said, focusing on Martha. “But I do remember one time in the car with my mom when I was little. Mom looked back while driving out of a parking lot, and she turned into a light post. So, you know, it can be dangerous to look back.”

  In the dim light, Camm saw a slight smile appear on Martha’s face.

  “And people think the Bible has no relevance in today’s society.” Martha sounded more relaxed. They both laughed, and continued further into the depths of blackness.

  As they passed an alcove opening, Camm shined her light into it. “This is where J. R put me when I passed out after hearing his voice. This was my own private room while I lived here.”

  . . . here, smell you!

  Martha also shined her light into the small rock grotto and screamed piercingly.

  “Oh, sorry,” Camm apologized, “I forgot to warn you in advance. There are more dead bodies here. Like that first one, they’re totally harmless, because they really are dead.”

  Martha looked at Camm incredulously. “You lived in there with these dead bodies?”

  “It wasn’t so bad, once I got to know them.” Camm pointed at each of the cadavers. “That’s Larry, and that’s Moe, and that one is Curly Joe. You know, The Three Stooges.”

  Martha shivered. The dead bodies stared with vacant eyes and distorted faces, apparently locked in a state of petrified horror at their own deaths.

  “They don’t look funny to me.” Martha glanced at Camm as if waiting for the joke.

  Camm studied Martha’s grim face in the dim light and began to wonder about the wisdom of bringing her along. Camm had been so anxious to get to Cal that she had not fully considered the ramifications of bringing Martha into this cave. Camm already blame
d herself for the serious injuries Martha suffered in a car crash, all because she had followed Camm to Trona.

  What was Camm thinking? She had brought Martha into a cave that had dead bodies in it, and certainly many unknown perils and dangers as well. And that was only inside the cave. Camm hoped this tunnel would lead them to Cal, where more new dangers waited in an alternate world filled with giant predators.

  Camm sighed. “Maybe you should go back to the mansion and wait there.”

  Martha looked shocked. “You don’t want me along? You don’t think I can do this, do you?”

  “No, no, that’s not it at all.”

  Somehow, Camm had to find a way to protect Martha without offending her. “Somebody should stay at the mansion in case Granny shows up, to tell him what’s going on. We don’t want him thinking we both got eaten by the rat.”

  Shivering again, Camm didn’t feel right. Something was very wrong, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. That just made her all the more anxious for Martha’s sake.

  “Camm, just tell me the truth. You don’t think I’m strong enough to do this, do you?”

  “Martha, that’s not it. I just don’t want you to get hurt again. I mean, you were knocked unconscious in that wreck after watching Agents Roberts die a horrible death, and now, here we are in a cave with dead bodies. We don’t know where this cave goes or what is lurking in here.”

  “It’s just as dangerous for you as it is for me. You think you’re super woman and can go through this cave, but poor little ol’ Martha is just too small and weak.”

  “Oh Martha, I don’t think you’re small or weak. I think you have been incredibly brave, but I don’t want you hurt on my account. Please, I really don’t want to fight over this.”

  Martha stood up straight and thrust out her chest, a look of defiance on her face. “Me either, so let’s just go on. If you can do this, so can I! I want to save Cal and Lenny too!”

  “I know, I know. It’s just . . .”