Saul and Evan made it through as well, and we entered at different moments, like we were strangers. There were robed cultists everywhere. They’d carved a high foyer that connected a tunnel to an additional room beyond. We drifted slowly around the crowd of people. Some were talking amongst each other with their hoods off, not caring any longer if they were seen by their allies. The Objects were nearing, and that meant the games were over. It was time for them to act.
We kept ours on, and I was glad we weren’t the only ones. I stepped into the cavern first and heard the echoing discussions happening around it. The space was massive. Most of it appeared to be natural. They’d added wooden balconies surrounding the room, with bench seating alongside them to accommodate the vast number of cultists gathered here.
Saul walked over and kept me moving. “See in the back?”
I noticed a corridor that continued beyond the cavern. As soon as I spied it, I saw another on the right. “Which do you prefer?”
“You take left. I’ll get the other.” He turned to Evan. “Stay here. Find out what you can. Get the fuel.”
I watched Saul leave, and instantly felt vulnerable. He understood these people and was a killer that could keep us alive.
“Good luck,” I muttered to Evan.
There were hundreds of Believers in the room, many already casually strolling to the benches on the balconies. I went around them, acting like I had somewhere to be. When I neared the back of the cavern, I stopped, surveying the area. It had soft lighting attached to the walls, with more placed on the ceiling. My gaze followed the cables, snaking through the main entrance into the foyer.
“This is so exciting,” a woman said, startling me. She wore the robe, her head uncovered.
I thought she looked familiar, like a movie star from the Nineties, and I tried not to gawk. “I’ve been waiting for this day for so many years,” I told her.
“Yes. Me too. I’m ready for them to arrive. I can feel them inside me.” She smiled, showcasing her perfect smile.
“I hear you.”
Apparently, my conversation was lacking, because she seemed to tire of me and turned to another. I took the chance and sneaked into the corridor that led deeper into the mountain. It became darker, with only small battery-powered LEDs placed every twenty yards or so to guide the way. I stayed in the shadows as two people walked by, their voices low as in a heated discussion.
The place smelled musty, like most underground regions I’d visited over the course of my life. Some of the stones sparkled from the excavated tunnel, and I continued on, seeking my dad and the others. There were a couple of natural pockets here, and they’d been supported with sturdy wooden beams to keep them from collapsing. I went left and heard a voice behind me. It was just a trick of the cavern, and it grew quieter the further I walked.
I caught the tail end of their words. “…starting in two minutes.”
Good. They’d leave me alone. There were fewer lights this way, and I stopped before strolling any farther, listening for sounds of occupants. I thought I heard a cough ahead and crouched to pick up one of the lanterns.
I checked my phone, but there was no service. Even if we needed to send messages, they wouldn’t go through. The tunnel stretched on; the floor was damp. I found another dead end and saw the glint of light. There was a pair of glasses on the ground.
My heart pounded as I rushed inside, bending to pick them up. They were Clayton’s. This was the room I’d seen in my dream. But the occupants had disappeared.
6
Rimia: Day 1,297
Dirk secured the pack, making sure it sealed tightly. His water skins hung to the side of the leather bag, and he tested the straps on his shoulders for the fourth time. There was nothing worse than the chafe of a bag on an extended hike.
“Are you sure you won’t come?” he asked Opor. She watched him from their shared room, shaking her head. Her dark hair was braided today, the beads she wore clinking together as she reprimanded him with her eyes.
“You go against our wishes. I cannot support this,” she told him.
“Don’t worry about all that. I’ll come home.” Dirk opened the door as someone knocked and found Clayton there. It had taken him months to recover from his first spirit ritual, and after already going through his second, he was prepared to journey to the mountains.
Both of them had gone back and forth on leaving, and now, after being here for nearly four years, they were finally abandoning the comfort and safety of the village.
Dirk smiled at his friend and kissed Opor goodbye. The entire village was gathered, each wearing the ceremonial bands of grieving on their arms. “I will try to convince them to allow your return. But as you can see, I do not make our rules.” She rubbed her temples, her face looking distressed.
“Is the pain back?”
She nodded. “My ancestors are speaking. Telling you to stay.”
“I will be safe.” Dirk wanted to defend their need to explore. They were only going to investigate the forbidden mountains. But he kept silent as they walked through town and into the forest beyond. They were armed with spears and fire-making tools, but Dirk still felt naked as they abandoned the village. He waved at Opor and the others, and they were off.
Clayton wasn’t the same man since he’d drunk the liquid ages ago. It was as if a fragment of another lived inside his head. He often spoke of strange things, unable to explain where the ideas originated. It worried Dirk to no end, and he’d nearly left Clay there to explore Rimia further many times before.
He was glad they were together, though.
He estimated the walk would take them a few days, if all went well, and he almost laughed at the distance. In his head, it had been this insurmountable obstacle to leave the village and set foot in the mountains. Now that they were doing it, he felt light and free.
“Why did we wait until today?” Dirk asked.
“Because we thought someone was coming to rescue us. Or at least, I did. You’re in love.”
Dirk scowled at the word, feeling guilt enveloping him. He’d abandoned his family and found a new mate. She wasn’t even human—but did that matter? He wasn’t sure he was anymore either. “We may be rejected when we return.”
Clayton adjusted his glasses. “I never felt at home there, Dirk. Not like you. Maybe we’ll find what we’re after and need not look back.”
“Maybe.” Part of Dirk hoped he was right, but he couldn’t leave Opor behind. Not now.
The forest was dangerous according to the Wanderers, but so far, he’d seen no evidence they were being hunted by any beasts.
“Why are they called the Wanderers?” Clayton asked after the first tiring day of walking. The fire crackled, and they ate strips of cured meat as they rested.
“They can’t even answer that,” Dirk said.
“It’s an odd name for a village that doesn’t test their boundaries.” Clayton tugged at the meat, snapping his piece in two.
They continued for days, the peaks growing nearer with every step. They’d heard howls in the distance, but nothing ever transpired. Dirk could only anticipate what they might find on Rimia. There was a whole planet to explore. Why had he let himself be anchored for so many years? It went against everything he’d ever lived by. His head was even clearer, and Clayton seemed more himself.
“I don’t feel him anymore,” Clay said.
“Who?”
“The being living in my head,” he told Dirk.
“The Wanderer spirit?” Dirk asked.
“I don’t think that’s who he is. He’s one of them, but not from Rimia.” Clayton’s eyes were watery as he said this.
The peaks were close, a day’s walk, when Dirk remembered all he’d lost at home. He’d been pretending this was all a dream for too long. He perched on a fallen log, unable to move.
“We have to keep going,” Clay said.
“Can we?”
“Don’t you feel that?” Clay stared at the peaks. They were huge, c
omparable only to the Andes in Dirk’s memories.
“Feel what?”
“Nothing.” Clay walked away, and Dirk forced himself to his feet. His legs were exhausted, but they found plenty of fresh water and had enough dried food to ration for a month.
They found the foothills hours later and were funneled into a valley. It was lush, with colorful flowers growing from thick stalks. The grass had even adapted to grow inside the treed regions, and bright alien birds swooped low, with flowing tails flailing behind them.
Rimia was beautiful. Dirk hadn’t noticed how surprising it was before this trip. Constantly seeing the ruins of a once powerful race had jaded his vision of the planet. Clayton seemed enthralled too, stopping to touch various plants. He’d always had a green thumb, and had bored Dirk endlessly on their first few discovery missions.
“Why would they be afraid of this place?” Clay asked. “It’s spectacular.”
“There’s a reason. You remember those tribes we encountered? Almost all of them had a superstition handed down for generations. At some point, there had to be a terrible occurrence out here that their ancestors bore witness to. They passed the warning on, and eventually, it became law. Today, they aren’t certain why they won’t come, but they avoid it like the plague.” Dirk realized he was speaking English, and Clayton nodded, as if this was normal. They rarely used their native tongue anymore, and it felt so natural.
They camped out, taking two days to investigate as much as they could access, and on the third day, they found it.
“Dirk, look.” Clay pointed up a path, with loose gravel surrounding the valley. They scrambled up it, and Dirk paused, unable to believe his eyes. It looked exactly like the Bridge access near Porto.
“How?” He walked to it, and Clayton barged ahead, jogging into the room. A podium sat in the center of the open cavern, and Dirk glanced up, finding an open hole exposing the sky above. There were drawings on the walls, and symbols he could now read. He shifted from left to right, reading them out loud. “Welcome, Children. Here lies the Bridge to Kabos. Enter.”
“A second Bridge,” Clayton said.
“Why would they hide this from us?” Dirk asked. The podium had a layer of moss covering it. Water would enter from the opening, giving enough moisture to keep it alive. He started clawing at it, wondering what was beneath. Did they have to bring the entire Case here? That was impossible, because it had stayed on Earth when they’d traveled to Rimia.
“What are you doing?” Clay asked.
“Help me peel it off!” Dirk worked with a frenzy, tearing the moss off the stone podium. With Clay’s assistance, they had it clear in a few minutes. Both of them remained there, sweating and staring at what they’d uncovered.
“There’s another Token,” Dirk whispered. His fingers pressed into the grooves, rolling around the circular shape. It was around the size of a coaster, three-quarters of an inch deep. “We need another Token!”
“Where is it?” Clay scrambled around the room, as if he might find it under a rock.
“Not here, I imagine. Damn these beings. Why is everything so difficult?”
“What if it’s on Earth?” Clay asked.
“Then we’re screwed.”
Dirk slumped to the floor, sliding down the wall, and he ate and drank while Clay searched outside. Sometime later, Clay shook him awake. He hadn’t remembered falling asleep, but he remembered the dream with such clarity, he almost couldn’t believe it.
“The Token. It’s round, with the sun on it. Like a child’s depiction,” Dirk said.
“How can you be sure?”
Dirk pointed to the wall, where the illustration of a sun sat etched in a circle. “That’s why.”
It was dark, and stars shone through the opening in the ceiling. Dirk stared at them as he rested his palms on the podium. Time passed, but Dirk was almost in a trance. “I will return with the Token. If it’s on Rimia, we will find it, won’t we, Clayton?”
But his friend was fast asleep, exhausted by the day’s revealing adventure. He tossed and turned in his sleep, crying out for his wife and daughter. Eventually, he stilled, and Dirk saw his chest wasn’t rising and falling.
“Clayton!” he shouted, rushing to his aid.
Dirk couldn’t find any indication of life and sought to revive the man with every bit of strength he had. It took a few tries, but Clayton coughed, breath sputtering from his lips. His eyes opened, and he stared at Dirk with eyes that were the wrong color. They were dark blue.
“What are you?” Dirk asked, clambering away.
“Do not venture into the Bridge. Only pain and torment await. Return to the village, Wanderer.” The voice was Clayton’s, but the tone wasn’t his. It was robotic.
Dirk kept his distance from Clayton. “Who are you?”
“I am the Ancestor. Do not venture into the Bridge.”
The Ancestor. “Enough cryptic games. Where can I find the Token?”
“You have been warned.”
Dirk rushed forward, slapping Clay across the cheek. His head snapped to the side, and he blinked, his palm coming up defensively. When he focused on Dirk, his eyes were once again brown. “Did you hit me?”
“Your dream. Was it the same one as before?” Dirk asked, finally thinking he had a grasp of who these dream walkers were.
Clay stared at him blankly before nodding. “That was him.”
“Don’t let him into your mind. We need you to establish a barrier. I can’t lose you, Clay. You’re a brother to me.” Dirk hugged the other man.
“I’ll try. He comes and goes as he wishes, but I’ll let you know when I feel him. What did he say?”
“He warned me not to enter. He claims to be an Ancestor, like the Wanderers want us to think. But I sense their deceit,” Dirk muttered. He kept glancing at Clay’s eyes, as if they might change color again.
“You don’t trust the Ancestors?” Clay asked.
“Do you?”
Clay shook his head vehemently. “I think you’re right about this. The Unknowns are trying to stop us from using the Bridge.”
Dirk agreed wholeheartedly. “We’re not staying here.”
“What are we going to do?”
“The Token for this. It can only be in one of two places,” Dirk said.
“Rimia or Earth.”
“That’s what I’m thinking. And since we can’t go home, let’s try here. This is what we were born to do, wasn’t it?” Dirk felt renewed. This experience had scared him, but also given him hope. If the Unknowns were coming like Hunter claimed, they’d need the help of whoever was across this Bridge. He had a purpose.
“I’ve never been more ready to go on a hunt,” Clay said, likely shaking the cobwebs from his mind.
“We begin tomorrow.” Dirk set a hand on his friend’s shoulder as they exited the Bridge cavern. One day, they’d return, but not without a seventh Token. And he’d be damned if he was going to let anyone else into Clay’s mind again.
7
I wound my way to the cavern, setting the lantern on the ground where I’d found it. They were gone from their prison cell, but I was willing to bet Hunter’s fortune they were still inside this mountain. The path led me to the main hollow, and the hair on my arms rose as I walked into the room.
The entire congregation of Believers was inside, filling the balcony and the whole floor, leaving a narrow patch bare in the middle of the room. They were chanting three words repeatedly: Dreen allono reespenlen. I recalled the phrase from Across This Great Nation, when Bill had interviewed a former cult member. The words were Unknown, and meant “Prepare for Arrival.”
The people swayed, dancing like praying mantises in the breeze.
Someone approached the center of the room, and he stopped in the middle of their makeshift stage. I saw the microphone in his grip as interference echoed from speakers mounted to the walls. Everyone went silent, and I glanced around, relieved to find that most of them continued to don their robes. I walked steal
thily, no one bothering to look in my direction while they were transfixed on the man with the microphone.
He lifted his cowl and let it fall. “Greetings, Believers. Dreen allono reespenlen. Isn’t that a wonderful phrase?”
Applause echoed through the room.
I reached the edge of the balcony and got a better view at the man making the speech. It was Vice President Alan Black. No wonder everyone was so silent. Their leader was here. He had to be their Sovereign.
“We’ve had a tough and arduous journey to arrive here today, haven’t we? Generations of loyalty, a few coups and revolts, and multiple changes of leadership, but through it all, we’ve kept our mission and spirit alive. I am so proud of each and every one of you in this room. I know there are countless others around the world that will be working on their own events this very moment. I wish we could all be together as we once planned, but the Unknown have sped up their timeline. We abide by their wishes, not our own, placing us here, prepared to meet our makers.” He turned around slowly as he spoke, as if to ensure his face was visible.
“I joined the Believers when I was twenty-seven, right out of law school, with a load of student debt and big dreams. I wanted to help people, and here I am, forty-two years later, speaking to my family as the Vice President of the United States of America.” He paused for more clapping, and continued when it dwindled down. I feigned excitement with the rest of them. “When I started out, I didn’t expect I’d be able to assist quite this much. Because of us, we will herald in a new age, with the Unknowns as our leaders. I can only hope they take pity on the rest of the world.”
The Vice President bowed his head, like he was uttering a prayer. “I feel so blessed to be here, in the midst of all these powerful people. Strength in mind, body, spirit, and belief. You have persevered through all the lies, religions, wars, famine… humanity’s ultimate failures. You will make the Unknowns proud for leaving this world in our care.”
The chants began again, with Alan Black speaking the three words into the microphone alongside the people. I joined, moving my lips but not saying the phrase. I tried to spot Saul or Evan, but amidst the sea of robes, it was impossible.
Lost Time (The Bridge Sequence Book Two) Page 17
