Portal to the Forgotten

by John Gschwend

  Adam ate the soup with more manners than anyone else in his tribe would have. His father had trained him well. Orion rubbed Adam’s back as he ate. Luke appreciated the love. And he appreciated Adam’s loyalty to his father—it was true and solid. Yet, there was something going on here that they were keeping from Luke. He felt it more than he knew it with evidence, but it was there. Where had Adam been all day anyway? He came back with no game or edibles. And when he entered the cave, there was a slight nod of the head to Orion. It was very subtle, but Luke had noticed it. These two had more going on than he had originally thought. Of course, they did. They weren’t just surviving in this place; they were mastering it.

  “Me and Luke had wine. Want some?” Orion said as he sat in the chair beside Adam. Adam waved it off as he pulled another piece of bread.

  “That was the best soup ever, Son.”

  Adam smiled. “Orion’s the best teacher on cooking.”

  Luke laughed as he pushed the chair from the table. “Dump Soup.” He shook his head and walked to the cave entrance. The beasts had all gathered at the foothills below, about twenty or thirty, maybe more. The light was fading, but he watched a young one nurse and butt at his mother. Unbelievable. Simply, unbelievable. A lone coyote sang out across the prairie, followed by more. He thought of home. How many times had he heard that song? He was torn. This was the life he had longed for. This was the life he lived every chance he could steal away to the woods. But he was missing home, missing Arkansas.

  “Luke.” Orion said. He turned to see both Orion and Adam standing. “Do you still have the map I gave you?”

  “Of course. It’s in my bag.” Luke dug it out and handed it to Orion. They were both looking at him with what appeared to be pity.

  Orion rolled it out on the table. “We know where to find Sha-She.” Luke moved around so he could see the map better. Orion put his finger on the map. “She’s there.”

  Luke looked up at Orion. “How do you know she’s there?” He turned to Adam. “Where did you go today? You sure the hell couldn’t have traveled that far. That’s a good day’s hike if this damn map is accurate.” Luke felt mistrust creeping in like smoke. “What are y’all pull—”

  “Luke!” Orion squeezed Luke’s arm. “I know you don’t know us, but we are friends. If you don’t trust us, who can you trust?”

  Luke looked at Orion, then to Adam. He was right. Trusting Moon wasn’t working out so well, so he knew he had better cool it, at least find out the story. He nodded. “Okay.”

  “Good. Good then.” Orion nodded toward Adam.

  Adam traced a path on the map with his finger. “Reeze see her here at waterhole.” He moved his finger farther. “Reeze see her here on trail.” He tapped his finger at another spot. “Reeze say she slept here.” He swiped his finger from the first location, through the other two, and stopped at the spot that said GIANTS.

  Luke felt as if a heavy stone had settled at the pit of his stomach—it was not the soup. He turned to Orion, the wise old man. “Why?”

  “Adam said she collected diamonds,” Orion said.

  Luke looked toward Adam, and then back to Orion. “Yeah. So what does that have—”

  “They aren’t really diamonds.”

  Luke crossed his arms. “Mr. Orion, I wish you would spill the beans. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I don’t know what the stones really are, but they aren’t diamonds. The giants collect them occasionally. The Reeze carry the stones to the giants to keep giants from coming here. All tribes pay the Reeze to do this.” Luke waited for more, but it was not making sense. “A few months ago the giants and their army came across the mountains to retrieve the bell, and they slaughtered everyone they—”

  “Wait—wait—wait a minute. A bell? You mean like ding dong bell?”

  “It looked to be a bell. It was silver. I don’t know how it got there. Everyone went to see it. Metal objects are rare in this part of the world. It stayed on the prairie for about a week before the giants showed up.” Luke lowered his head and shook it. “I know, Luke, but I assure you it is all true.”

  “Orion only speaks the truth,” Adam said.

  Orion continued: “The giants sent out messengers to the tribes and said if the stones continued to be delivered on regular intervals, they would not return. So far, they have not.”

  Luke went back to the cave entrance. Bats were darting around chasing moths. What had he gotten himself into? Hell, it was worse than the rabbit hole. He heard the coyotes again. “Shut up!” he shouted. “Shut the hell up! You are not real! This place is not real!” A mammoth trumpeted down below. “Shut up!” He put his hands over his ears. He just wanted it to all go away. He just wanted to be back at his cabin. No giants! No mammoths! No Orion! No Moon! No Gra— He dropped his hands from his ears. Grace. That’s the reason he was here. He slowly turned. The two men were watching him. “What about Grace?” Luke said softly. “Have the Reeze seen Grace?”

  Adam looked to Orion. Orion smiled and nodded. Adam turned to Luke, said, “Maybe.”

  “What the hell does that mean? The way you speak of the Reeze, they are everywhere. They are in the wind. They follow Moon’s path as if she were in orbit. Did they see Grace or not?”

  Adam did not flinch. He waited patiently for Luke to simmer down. Luke realized he was being an ass, so he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He waited for more.

  “Sha-She is like a panther, a hunter, but she’s not good at hiding her trail or she don’t care, so the Reeze can follow her. Reeze saw two other people, think maybe they were girls, but saw them only one time. They disappeared into the bush like two deer.”

  “Two?”

  “Yes.”

  “You believe them?”

  “Oh, Luke,” Orion said, “being from Your world, this will come as a bit of a surprise, but the Reeze don’t lie. I don’t believe they even understand what a lie is.”

  “Grace has always been an outdoor, active person, even a black-belt in karate, but there is no way she should be able to evade the native Reeze. She’s not an Indian. Maybe the girls were Adam’s people or the white-heads. ”

  “Not that close to those mountains,” Orion said. “They won’t come this far, much less there.”

  “Maybe they are from across the mountains.”

  “Tomorrow we go get Sha-She,” Adam said. “Maybe we find out who the other people are.”

  Orion lowered his head and wiped at his eyes. It was obvious he didn’t want Adam to go, but it was also evident they had already settled the matter before now.

  Luke was afraid to go, but he would go. He had to go. He exhaled a long breath. “We will bring them back; we will bring them both back.”

  Orion looked up. “You have seen strange things here, coming from where you come from. Miracles I guess we can call them. Maybe the girls turned back before they went too far—we don’t know for sure, but if you have to bring them back from the land of the Nephilim—if even you and Adam come back, it will be the biggest miracle of all.” He turned and went back into the cave.

  Luke turned to Adam and they simply stared into each other’s eyes. Luke knew what he was thinking in his own heart, in his own soul—it was a combination of fear and anticipation. Adam’s thoughts were as mysterious as this world.

  Chapter 11

  A small herd of pronghorn fled from the waterhole when Luke and Adam topped the ridge. It could have been a waterhole on the plains of Colorado. In fact, the mountains on the horizon looked a lot like the Rocky Mountains. They were giant compared to the short mountains where Orion lived in his cave. Luke and Adam drank from the water and then Luke filled up his canteen, while Adam filled up his waterskin. There were barefoot prints around in the mud.

  Adam saw Luke looking at them. “Reeze,” Adam said.

  Luke looked in all directions. Where were these Reeze?

  It had been three days since they had left the cave, and they had come across no one, just t
hese barefoot prints and other signs. They would find a spent campfire here—still warm, a gut pile there, and discarded scraps of food—bread, dried berries, and even pieces of dried meat. It was evident these wasteful people were driving some form of animals with them—droppings were everywhere, and split-hoofed tracks were with the human tracks. The trail the Reeze followed—now the trail Luke and Adam followed—led snake-like toward the mountains. When they came upon this discard food, Adam picked it up and placed it in his bag like a pack rat. Often he would pull out a nugget and toss it in his mouth. Luke watched him several times and said nothing, but finally he could take no more. “Why do you pick up that trash like that? That stuff is scraps; it’s nasty.” Adam turned, pulled out a piece of meat, and chewed off a big hunk, like chewing a chaw of tobacco. He dropped the remaining back into the bag, smiled, and started back up the trail.

  They made camp in a cottonwood grove along a small river as the sun settled behind the distant mountains. Adam speared a few trout as Luke started a fire. If the situation weren’t so serious, this would have been like a vacation for Luke. It was like being at Yellowstone or something. The fish splashed in the smooth river as shooting stars streaked across the purple sky. The temperature was cool, but nothing a hunter like Luke could not handle; in fact, he preferred it.

  A roar rolled down the river and sounded like it came from the MGM lion. Luke grabbed for his bow. Adam, putting the fish on sticks over the fire, laughed.

  “What the hell is that?” Luke said as he stood and nocked an arrow. He looked down the river, but the darkness had settled in. Adam placed his hands to his mouth with his index fingers pointing down. “A walrus?” Luke said. Then he quickly realized his mistake and turned to where the sound had come. “A saber-toothed cat!”

  Adam straightened the fish over the fire and laughed again.

  Luke turned to face him and started to ask him what was so funny, but then he realized he was green in Adam’s eyes. Hearing a saber-tooth cat here must be like hearing coyotes back home—it would scare the hell out of someone from the city. And it was pleasant to see Adam laugh; he did it so rarely. Luke put the bow down and pitched down beside Adam.

  “Cat is scared of fire,” Adam said. “He don’t like being around people.” He looked out the corners of his eyes. “Well, scared most of the time.” He laughed again.

  Luke laughed, too. “I hope this is most of the time.”

  Adam reached in his bag, pulled out a piece of bread, and bit off it.

  “Why are you eating those scraps that they left on the ground?”

  Adam shook his head. “Luke is foolish. I thought you were smart. Reeze left this for us.”

  Luke said nothing. He was, indeed, foolish. No one would have been that wasteful, not in this land. “But why do they just throw it on the ground where any animal could get it before us.”

  “Reeze think—‘oh well, too damn bad.’ ” Adam laughed again.

  When Luke stopped laughing too, he asked, “They are just ahead of us then?”

  Adam turned the fish. “Ahead…behind.” He shrugged his shoulders.

  Luke heard something wading the river. He reached for his bow, but Adam grabbed his arm, said, “And here.”

  A strange glowing ball floated above the water, moving slowly toward them. It was greenish-yellow and resembled the glow of a gas lantern. As it floated closer, a figure emerged from the gloom of the river, a man, a tall man, holding it. He stopped at the river’s edge, about forty yards away and stared at the camp. The glowing ball seemed to be some sort of ball of gas, and the man holding it wore a suit of buckskin and some type of fur hat—he could have been Daniel Boone or Davy Crockett. His clothes were more advanced than anything Luke had seen in this world. He had no weapons, no shield, just a skin bag—and that glowing ball. He stood there for a long spell and then simply said, “Adam.”

  Adam stood and the man came to within fifteen feet and tossed the bag to Adam. He opened it and smiled. He said something to the man and they both laughed. The man turned to leave and Adam said something else. Luke could tell it was a question. The man turned back, let go of the glowing ball, and it just floated in the air on its own. He slowly put his hands together, with only the fingertips touching, as if he were making a tent or house roof.

  Luke turned to Adam. “What is this all abou—” Even in the firelight, Luke could see Adam had turned pale. “Adam? Adam, you alright?” Adam slowly nodded. What had just happened? Luke turned back to the stranger. He was gone! The glow ball was gone! What’s going on? “Where did he go? What the hell was that glowing ball?”

  Adam sat back down by the fire and absently turned the fish as he stared blankly into the fire. “A wisp.”

  Luke looked up and down the river, but the man and his fire ball were as gone as steam above a kettle. He dropped down by Adam. “What? A wisp?”

  “Will-o’-the-wisp.” He looked over to Luke. His color was coming back to his face. “Orion say the Reeze like Will-o’-the-wisp.” Luke could see why with that strange glowing ball, appearing out of nowhere and disappearing.

  “What’s in the bag?” Luke said. Adam handed it to him. It had food in it, and Adam pulled out a loaf of bread like the one Orion had come in with back at the cave. He dug around in it and came out with a stick of sausage. “This is great.”

  Adam pulled the fish from the fire and laid them on a plank he had found by the river. “Bread be good with fish.”

  Luke sat the bag aside. “Why did you two laugh when you looked in the bag? What did he say?”

  Adam half smiled. “He want to know if Adam was tired of picking scraps off the ground.”

  Luke nodded. “Oh, I get it. He has been toying with you all along, and you knew it. You know him.”

  Adam grinned.

  “What did he mean when he made a tent with his fingers?” Luke said.

  The grin disappeared. After a long pause, Adam said, “I ask where they last saw Sha-She. His fingers say at the place of the giants.”

  Luke looked back toward the dark river. He remembered Orion saying the Reeze do not lie.

  The mountains grew closer and larger. Luke felt so much smaller. If they were not the Rocky Mountains he had seen in Colorado, they were the evil twin. The trail was well worn by the Reeze, but there were no scraps of food now. The wind blew across the prairie and the grass waved and whipped. Eagles and hawks floated above. It was paradise, but it felt more and more like hell.

  Luke walked and thought—walked and thought. He didn’t know what Adam was thinking, but he was thinking how the hell they were going to get the girls, or maybe one girl, and get away with their lives. What were these Nephilim? Were they killers? Did they hunt people like animals? Hell, did they have advanced weapons? For all Luke knew, they could have laser-beam guns. They could have people roasting on sticks when Luke and Adam sneaked into the city—he reckoned they were going to sneak in—he didn’t know what they were going to do.

  Adam stopped and pointed. “There is the road into the city.” Luke saw a valley between two mountains. “We leave the road here,” Adam said. He pointed to another smaller valley. “We go this way.”

  “Have you ever been there?”

  “No.”

  Luke stopped. “No?”

  “Orion told me to go this way if we had to come this far.” Adam turned to Luke. “He said he hoped we didn’t have to come this far.” He rubbed his hand across his lips and started up the trail. Luke followed—he had no other choice.

  The valley was not really a valley at all; it was a cut in the side of the mountain, an animal trail. It was a good trail; they didn’t have to do any climbing with their hands, but it was steep. It was obvious that people occasionally used the trail too. Luke figured the Reeze, but he had no idea why they didn’t just use the main road, which was much easier to travel he was sure.

  After about thirty minutes of climbing and about half way to the top, Adam stopped and pointed off the trail. There was a skele
ton hanging from a gnarled tree. “Maybe they are trying to tell us something.”

  “Yeah, but we are too stupid to pay attention.”

  When they reached the rim, Luke was literally in for the surprise of his life. Down below was a city for sure, and it didn’t appear primitive. There were giant stone buildings and walls and temples. It was right out of Indiana Jones. However, the most prominent thing of all was a giant pyramid. It was ivory-white with the capstone the color of gold—it could have been gold. There were inscriptions and designs covering it, sunrays and lightning bolts. It had to be twice as big as the biggest one in Egypt. But it didn’t look like anything Egyptian or Mayan, for that matter. It was shiny and radiant. It was…new.

  Adam pointed. “Look.” Electrical charges sparked from the point of the pyramid like Tesla’s ball. The charge would jump and fly around like crazy lightning and then disappear.

  Luke whispered, “Is this what the Egyptian pyramids once looked like?” It was not old and crumbly. It was shiny and majestic and active. This was not a tomb. This was some kind of…machine.

  Adam held his hands up with the fingers touching, forming a tent. “Luke see now what Reeze talked about.”

  “Of course.” Luke tried to take it all in, but it was too much to process. He was no archaeologist. He was just a redneck from the backwoods of Arkansas—no dummy, but no scholar either.

  Remembering his binoculars, he pulled them from his bag. He was more in awe than before. The streets were paved with bricks. Water flowed through troughs all over the city—they weren’t pipes, but they served the same purpose, and he could see all of it clearly from the high vantage point. People pulled carts—yes, carts with wooden wheels. The people reminded him of Ancient Greeks or Romans, but on their heads they wore large plumes of feathers, more like Mayans. They all had different color hair like people back home, not all red or all white. As he was looking at a market with fruits and vegetables, a figure stepped out of a huge building adjacent to it. The people bowed at the figure. Luke jerked the binoculars from his eyes and swallowed. He slowly put them back to his eyes and searched for the figure again. He was a giant, every bit of four feet taller than the others were. “Nephilim.”