Once she found this particular program and Ari heard what she wanted to do, there was no way he was going to let her enjoy it without him. Both of them were skilled fighters with multiple black belts to their name, but it had still proved to be one of the most physically challenging efforts of his entire life. It also solidified how he felt about his sister and how much he admired her. It also molded each of them into the type of people and fighters they were today. That training remained invaluable to his current mission. He remembered the moment when the program flipped from just grueling to near-torturous.
The sky was an angry dark purple. Clouds converged together in a mass of fury as the storm eclipsed the horizon. Rain poured, and not the soft gentle kiss of a summer shower, but one that came fast, hard and cold and prickled the skin painfully at each touch.
It didn’t stop the hikers from their quest to reach the cragged mountain’s summit. Each burdened with forty-pound backpacks, and between the ages of 16 – 20, they adjusted their hoods over their heads and continued to climb-knowing the next task was not far ahead, and that it would be far more demanding than any of the previous ones. A jagged scar of lightning streaked across the sky and seconds later thunder cracked, so close that even some of the most seasoned hikers flinched.
Douglas Vector, a rugged fifty-year old ex-Navy Seal and vet who had seen combat in some of the nastiest wars over the years, guided them. “Let’s go, grunts! I hear anyone whining and I’ll beat the shit out of you myself and dropkick you down the mountain where your mommas can pick you up!”
The climb was steep and daunting, the rocks slippery, wet and precarious. They had been climbing this particular trail for three days, traversing through some of the most treacherous land in the country. It was miles from civilization and even further from the nearest hotel or hospital. They were exhausted, filthy and hungry, but each had voluntarily signed up for this intense survivor’s course and there wasn’t a complaint in the bunch.
The group started with fifty strong-willed teens who passed multiple behavioral and psychological assessments before even being allowed to venture into the demanding program. Designed by veterans, active military and special agents, the program tested the stamina and ability of everyone involved. It was a trial run for the future spies, agents and special forces teams--the ultimate survivalist training school. Within the first week, eleven teens had dropped out from exhaustion after living in the woods and surviving off of anything they could forage. They had been taught what plants they could and couldn’t eat, how to hunt, fish, and capture prey in the wild. They learned what was poisonous, and how to find and build a shelter out of the existing materials around them. The terrain was harsh, brutal, and cold and not everyone was able to withstand the demands from the first week. Another fifteen dropped out the second week, after days without sleep and multiple drills on weaponry and war tactics. The program was designed with the goal to weed out the weak and allow the cream to rise to the top.
Now, into their third week, four more had succumbed. They didn’t have the stamina needed to trek mile after mile, day after day, loaded down with supplies. Blisters burst on their feet and many had sneakers wet from their own blood. Twenty teens remained for the last few weeks of the program, which would test every remaining bit of their endurance.
They hiked for another half mile and the land finally leveled out.
“We’re making camp for the night,” Douglas yelled over the rising storm.
The groups immediately huddled together into predetermined pairs and broke out their sil-nylon tents. Lightweight, waterproof and fit for two people at a time, they would keep them dry, though not warm, during the storm.
“Set them up next to the overhang. If the storm is determined to blow them over, we’ll just have to continue walking instead. The last thing I want to do is wipe your sorry asses off the edge of the cliff.”
Ari turned to the girl next to him and she gave him a tired smile.
“Let’s do this,” Kelsey said, and dropped her pack to the ground.
They had it down to a science. Kelsey staked out the four corners while Ari pulled the fabric as tight as possible to make the base flat. Then Kelsey adjusted the webbing stake loops while Ari opened the door and shoved in the pole, then closed the flap before tightening the webbing loops at the four corners. Once that was completed, they both crawled inside.
Kelsey pushed her backpack into a corner, grabbed one of the sleeping bags and unfolded it, while Ari did the same. They both collapsed on the hard ground as soon as they had stretched out.
“You okay?” Ari asked.
Kelsey chuckled. “Never better.”
He tilted his head towards her. “You’re a masochist, you know that?”
“Oh, like you’re not. You were practically squealing like a little girl from excitement after the tactile weapons lessons.”
“I wasn’t squealing,” Ari said. “Still, firing semi-automatic rifles, submachine guns and Uzis is not something you get to do every day at Woolard Academy. Please, like you didn’t get a rush while you were target shooting with the pistols? There was a psychotic gleam in your eye every time you hit a target. I think even Douglas was impressed at how accurate you were by the end of the session.”
“I don’t think Douglas gets impressed by anything,” Kelsey said, though Ari knew she was secretly proud. She was damn good and a crack shot.
Kelsey scooped up the remains of a small homemade bread loaf out of her bag.
“Pass me one of those disgusting things, too,” Ari asked. He sat up. “Nothing like a hard oat and honey brick, laced with strawberry gelatin before bed.”
Kelsey bit into hers, grimaced and then tossed him the rest, which he caught one-handed. This loaf was one of the many homemade survivalist provisions they’d learned to make the very first day of the program, and it was to withstand them through the roughest times on the trip. Rock hard and sickingly sweet, it was still food, based with oats, dairy and sugar. It was something to keep them going when no other food was available. “Would you rather I get you the orange or raspberry flavor?” she teased. “I still have a bit of both left.”
Ari took a swig of water from his canteen, handed her the last bite and then lay back down. “No, keep it. I swear when we get home I’m going to make mom and dad take me out for the biggest steak I can get my hands on. A Porterhouse for me. Something huge.”
“Steak sounds so good,” Kelsey moaned. She got comfortable next to him. “I’d like a juicy, rare filet mignon. And steamed lobster tails with lots of butter.”
“Yeah, and sushi. Toro, salmon, and tons of eel. Okay, let’s stop this. This is torture.”
He turned over and just minutes later they both fell into an exhausted slumber.
Three hours later, when all of the teams were passed out, pandemonium hit the camp.
With a ripping sound only a sharp blade can make when it slices through nylon, Kelsey and Ari woke to multiple assailants splitting their entire tent apart. In seconds, they were pounced upon by six men, who hoisted them out of the tent, and shoved them to the ground. Kelsey and Ari fought hard, each landing multiple punches, but they were no match. The attackers were adults, armed and prepared. At least sixty of them had flooded the camp and attacked their comrades. They were quickly overcome.
They dragged Kelsey and Ari to the edge of the clearing and pressed guns to their temples. Both were forced to their knees and blindfolded and were then ordered to keep their fingers laced behind their head while they were led out of camp and up the mountain.
Ari felt the barrel of the pistol shoved into his back repeatedly, pushing him in the direction they wanted him to walk. Who were these people? Were they militants? Terrorists? It didn’t make sense. He couldn’t understand their language and couldn’t fathom what they would want with a group of teenagers in a boot camp survivalist program.
He stumbled up the slope. If he let his hands drop, he was smacked hard from behind. Twice he slipped on the sli
ck mud and went down. Both times someone gripped him by his hair and brought him to his feet. His face and torso were slammed repeatedly with the butt of the gun as punishment. Not hard enough to break something, but hard enough to hurt. He felt blood run down his cheeks, but he didn’t utter a sound. Cries and screams echoed around him as other teens pleaded with their captors. He could feel their terror, but he was immune to it. If they were to have been killed, they would have been killed already. All he knew now was that he needed to simply keep putting one foot in front of the other to get through this. To find out what they wanted from them. For the moment, he was certain Kelsey was also still okay. She’d play the same game he would until she knew what she was up against. He was sure of it.
After an hour, a hard set of fingers grasped him around his neck and forced him to a standstill. Two men held him on either side as they ripped off his blindfold. And then, without a word, they shoved him into a gaping hole in the ground. He slid into the deep pit and landed twenty feet below in muddy water near the other members of his group. Kelsey slogged over to him and helped him to his feet. Her lip was split and she had a bruise blossoming on her forehead, but she seemed okay. He wasn’t much better. His nose, hands and knees were bloody and he had multiple contusions received when he had fought his attackers.
But, they were alive.
Soon, all twenty of the teens were crowded together ankle deep in the mud. A wooden lattice gate came down over their heads and was locked into place.
For nearly half a day they were kept prisoner there with no food or water. The storm didn’t abate the entire time and the torrential rainfall laced down on them. The floor quickly became flooded and soon they were standing knee deep in muck and their own blood and urine, unable to even sit down or sleep.
Twenty hours into their nightmare two members of their group became delusional from the lack of food and sheer exhaustion and collapsed, falling face first into the muck. Only then did the lattice gate above them open and a team of soldiers came down to bring the two out.
That’s when Ari realized this was yet another test. A test that two more of the teens had failed. He had caught Kelsey’s eye and given her a look and they both knew that they were going to be just fine. These weren’t militants or terrorists, but their teachers. They just had to endure whatever tortures these people still had in store for them. It wouldn’t last forever.
Before day two of their ordeal ended, with still no food or sleep, five more teens succumbed. Only thirteen remained. At that point, they were all brought out. Exhausted and filthy, they were ushered straight to an interrogation room where they were barraged with questions for two more hours. Flashlights were aimed into their eyes and loud, brash music was blared as they were asked to compute complicated behavioral assessment questions. Over and over it went on until another person dropped, where he fell unconscious to the floor. That’s when the test ended. Without a word, they were taken to first aid and the showers, where they were cleaned up, bandaged, given food and water and a new change of clothes. Then they were brought to their bunks, where they passed out for ten hours.
For the next two weeks, with the twelve strongest remaining, the real survivalist training began with Vector and his team.
Ari and Kelsey were among them.
Chapter 7
Kelsey’s plane landed in Juneau and she took some time to stretch her legs before she caught her connection to Skagway. She scanned the airport lounge and thought about how everything in Alaska seemed so different from the frantic pace of New York City. Instead of designer dressed women and teens glued to their cellphones, there were groups of college age students giggling with wide-eye anticipation, sitting in a corner and chatting about their upcoming environmental expedition. A bunch of burly men in heavy parkas drank steaming mugs of coffee while waiting to catch a flight to their oil rig. The cute honeymoon couple intertwined on the seats waiting for their flight to Anchorage were so sweet to watch, that it made her heart ache for Desmond.
Kelsey peeked at them out of the corner of her eye. They each sat on separate chairs, but the girl was turned so her legs fell over her husband’s, who was leaning sideways and had his arm wrapped around her. The new bride toyed with her diamond ring and twirled it on her freshly manicured finger while she gazed dreamily into her groom’s eyes. He was smitten with her and Kelsey knew it to be true. When Kelsey had sauntered by them, he hadn’t even glanced her way, which most guys did because they simply couldn’t help it. This man never even reacted and Kelsey realized she didn’t register on this guy’s radar. He was so deeply in love with his bride that he had eyes for her only. It meant they were truly soul mates and they had found each other.
Kelsey peeked at the man as he leaned forward for a kiss. She had to turn away when she saw him gently cup his beloved’s chin as he did so.
A dull ache settled in Kelsey’s gut. Desmond used to touch her just like that. He’d kiss her with those gentle lips and would always stroke her cheek or her chin as he did so. It was such a tender gesture that she found so endearing, it made her heart hurt to recall it. Where are you, Desmond?
Of course, there was no answer to her question, no matter how many times she tried to seek a deep, hidden part in her core that could possibly respond. What was she thinking? She simply didn’t have the ability to tap into the other realms just because she wished to. There was only Xanadu and no one there would help her. Here in this plane of existence on the human realm she was only a warm-blooded person and she could do nothing to help Desmond. He was as far away from her as he could possibly be. With a dejected sigh, Kelsey gazed out the windows that stretched across the far wall and overlooked the airstrip. The site was truly spectacular and she stood and walked over to stare out the window. The photos in the travel magazines didn’t do Alaska justice. Just past the runway a panorama of mountains jutted to the sky, capped with snow. Every so often she could see that remarkable and otherworldly ice blue glitter of a glacier.
The weather had been unusually clear the past few days and Kelsey could see for miles in the distance, a rare treat she was told, by nearly everyone she met. Apparently, Alaska stayed mostly cloudy or rainy for lengths of time, and she’d have been lucky to have even seen across the runway. She rested her hands and forehead on the glass and peered out. The whole place looked otherworldly and reminded her of Tibet. Or, more rightly, of Xanadu.
Xanadu. Thinking of that place made her suddenly fume and she could feel her heartbeat escalate. After Desmond disappeared, she’d taken herself right back to Xanadu and begged the Emperor and Empress to help her find him, but they had refused. She couldn’t believe it. Here she’d just saved the world, again, nearly sacrificed herself, again, and all she requested was the location of the portal to find Desmond. How much was that to ask? Had she not done enough penance over the millennia to warrant this small favor? But, no. No one ever said no to her for anything.
She bitterly recalled their confrontation in the monastery in Xanadu.
Kelsey met them in the main salon where they’d just finished their evening meditations.
“You know where he is, Emperor. Tell me how to find him.”
“He is where he needs to be,” the Emperor said, dismissively. “His path and journey are on his homeworld now and he is needed there.”
“I understand that. Please show me how to get there. You know I’m capable of helping them with whatever it is they fight. I’m strong and can be of use. I beg of you, no more games. I’m sick of them. Just tell me where the portal is.”
“It is not our place to divulge this to you, Kelsey. If it is your journey to find Desmond in this lifetime, then you will on your own, without our help. You know that. We are not allowed to intervene with fate.”
She’d been flabbergasted. “Telling me the location of the portal is not intervening. It is my place to find him! You said so yourself this is not the first lifetime our paths have crossed. Help me fulfill my destiny. Our destiny together. I’m not asking yo
u to take me down to the hell realms and confront my father, or leave Xanadu and move to the god realm, but simply allow me to find the other human realm of existence where I can be of use. Please, don’t make me keep asking.”
The Emperor had given her a strange look. One she’d never seen on his face before. Was it regret? Satisfaction? A hidden agenda? But the only word he uttered was, “No.”
She was appalled they wouldn’t aid her, and she was sure they knew exactly where Desmond was and how to get to him. She’d stormed out of the monastery and had Ishu drop her off at her hut in the woods where she’d sulked. After that, she went to the secret garden and stood in the center of the stone between the Shitenno Guards. She’d even tried to put water on the stone to see if it would create a portal. She even appealed to Pancaggala, her Devic protector who had betrayed her just months before, but he never responded. Nothing she did worked. She stayed in Xanadu for three days, searching every inch of the forest, but she couldn’t locate any portal that would take her anywhere. She even went to the outskirts of town and spoke to the Bhikus, the other monks, to see if anyone could enlighten her, but no one could. She eventually returned home to New York City and took her anger out on her brother.
All everyone ever does is talk about my journey and my path. Well, it’s mine alone and not privy to the whims of the universe, the gods or a set of Aranhats that choose to keep their secrets to themselves. That would be their burden to bear, she was sure of that.
The Call of Mount Sumeru Page 5
