Portal to the Forgotten

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Portal to the Forgotten Page 13

by John Gschwend


  Adam tapped Luke on the shoulder. “Can I see?” Adam moved the binoculars slowly as he looked. Luke saw the instant when he spotted the giant. Adam turned to Luke, “Orion was right.”

  “Has he ever been here?” Luke took the binoculars back. He found more giants standing close to the pyramid.

  “Orion said he had when he first come to this world. He will not talk much about it, only say to stay away. He sa…”

  “He said what?” Luke turned. He found that they had been surrounded by the “Greeks.” There were about ten of them with spears. And these spears were tipped with metal. Luke and Adam had been careless.

  Adam reached for his own spear. One of them jabbed his hand with the metal spear. Adam grabbed his now bleeding hand and backed off. Luke tried to get to Adam, but the others moved in close with those shiny spears.

  “Are you okay?” Luke said.

  “Luke, don’t fight! We fight later.” He looked at his hand. “I be alright. Not too deep.”

  One of them poked Adam in the back, urging him down the hill and toward the city. Adam looked at Luke, winked, and started down the trail. Four more fell in behind him. Luke started to follow, but they stopped him. Adam tried to stop, but they kept prodding him with those sharp spears. “Luke!”

  Luke didn’t understand what they had in mind, but it was surely bad.

  They pushed him back down the hill and away from the city and Adam. One of them picked up his bow, inspected it, and threw it back on the ground beside his bag. They marched him for a distance, laughing and pointing at him. Finally, one of them pulled a rope from a bag and formed it into a loop. Luke remembered the skeleton as they turned off the trail.

  Chapter 12

  As the soldiers grew closer, the woman slid in behind the rocks and brush as a blackwidow spider backs into the darkest part of her web. The last thing she needed was for one of them to spot her. Her muscles grew tighter, like rubber bands being twisted. Her breathing was shorter now and pumping like a piston. They came on, pushing Luke ahead of them with those long spears. Her muscles burned and tightened even more, the rubber bands about to break. Closer. Closer. Closer. She let Luke walk past. She pounced for the nearest soldier. She drove her spear into his neck. It hung there so she took his. She whirled and ran it into the chest of the next closest soldier. One of the soldiers lunged his spear at her. She kicked it away, grabbed him, and flipped him over her back. She turned to jump him, but Luke was already straddling him and pounding his face with a stone. She turned for the other two, but her friend had finished them.

  Luke stood. “Grace?”

  “Luke!” She ran to him and squeezed him around the neck. She had thought he was Luke, but she wasn’t sure. She only knew for sure he was someone from her world—the clothes. Tears ran like water. “Oh, Luke, is it really you?”

  After a long embrace, Luke pushed her out to arm’s length. “Look at you. You look like Jane.”

  She knew she was a sight with the deerskins wrapped around her. She had done whatever it took to survive in this strange land—even kill.

  Her friend came to her, and Grace turned and smiled at her.

  “Who is this?” Luke said.

  Grace said. “This is Wak’o.”

  Luke hugged her. “Hello, Wak’o.” He looked her over. “She looks like an Indian from our world.”

  Grace grabbed Luke’s arm. “Where are we, Luke? Where is Tyler?”

  Luke sighed and said, “We’ve come through a portal into another dimension.”

  Grace heard him, but it didn’t quite register. “What do you mean?”

  “We’re not in Arkansas anymore.”

  “Ark-an-sa?” Wak’o said.

  Grace turned to her. “You know that word? Arkansas.”

  “Grace.” Luke said softly.

  She turned back to him. He had a hard look about him, not the same soft Luke she had always known.

  “I’m afraid I don’t know how to get us back home.”

  She and her friend had just killed five men. They had killed before. Her karate training was worth more than gold here in this place. Her physical abilities had given her the ability to survive. She had almost become an animal as she traveled this wild place trying to get home, trying to make sense of it all. She had been strong beyond anything she could have ever dreamed of. But now it suddenly became too much, and she folded into Luke’s arms. “I want to go home. I want my family. I want Tyler.” She sobbed. “Oh, Luke, I want to go home.”

  Wak’o moved to her and rubbed her back. The tall, buckskin-clad woman had been there for Grace since she had saved her from those blond murderers. She had taught Grace how to live off the land, how to survive in the wilderness, where to find water, where to find food, how to build a fire, how to evade pursuers—man or animal, and how to kill—animals for food or people to survive. She was not only a friend; she had become everything. She was the only person she knew in this strange place—until Luke.

  Grace recovered, turned to Wak’o and pointed back up the trail. Wak’o nodded, picked up a spear, and ran back the direction from which they had marched Luke.

  “Where is she going?” Luke said.

  “She’s going to ambush any more that may try for us.”

  Luke pulled Grace to a big rock shaded by a ledge, and they sat. “Grace, do you remember what happened when you went through the portal?”

  Oh, yes, she remembered it all too clearly. “I had heard drums and started toward the sound. Tyler called to me but I was just going to walk a little farther.” She stopped. She should have listened to Tyler. She grabbed Luke’s arm. “Where is he? Is he all right? I didn’t see him when they threw the net over me.”

  “He’s fine. He’s in jail. They think he killed you. That’s how I got here. I came looking for you and found the portal.”

  “Killed me?”

  “He’s safe for now.”

  She hoped he was safe until they could somehow get back. She had worried so. She had no idea what had happened to him.

  “Did they beat you, Grace?”

  “A little. They were stripping me of my clothes when I remembered my karate training. I kicked their asses and ran. Oh Luke, I was so scared. I didn’t know what was happening.”

  Luke patted her arm. “I know. How did you evade them?”

  “Wak’o found me drinking water from a stream. One of those blond demons had sneaked upon me fixin’ to spear me, and she came out of the bush like a wild cat and cut his throat. It was so horrific.” She sighed and looked at Luke. “But I’ve seen much worse since.” She looked down at the ground. “I’ve done worse since then.”

  “We do what we have to do to survive.” He took her hands into his. “And it looks like you have survived well.”

  It felt good to have Luke beside her. He was Tyler’s cousin and a very dear friend. He was a good hunter and had always made bows, arrows, and stone tools. That would be a great advantage here.

  A few minutes later, Wak’o came back down the hill. She shook her head and Grace knew it meant the coast was clear. She had not learned to talk to Wak’o, yet, but they had learned to communicate fairly well by gesture.

  “Wak’o,” Luke said. “That sounds familiar.”

  Wak’o pointed at herself, said, “Wak’o.” She pointed at Luke and said, “Nikka.”

  Luke jumped to his feet. “I be damn!”

  “What is it, Luke?” Grace said.

  Luke ignored her and addressed Wak’o. “Ni-U-Ko'n-Ska.”

  Wak’o perked and nodded. She suddenly spoke a lot more words that Grace couldn’t understand. “You can speak her language, Luke?”

  “She’s Osage.”

  “Can you speak to her?”

  “I’m afraid not. I only know a few words.” Luke shook his head. “Damn. I wish I had learned more. My great-grand mother was Osage, and I was curious and found a few words on the Internet. I don’t think anyone speaks it anymore.”

  That didn’t make good sense,
Grace thought. “Wak’o speaks it.”

  “You don’t understand, Grace. She must have come through the portal at another time in history.”

  “But she would be extremely old.”

  “Not necessarily. The portal can pluck someone from history, but it would be now for them.” Luke turned to Grace. “Does that make sense?”

  Grace was trying to understand, but it wasn’t coming together.

  “Wak’o could have been in that very spot where we came through the portal, but at another time.”

  “Like a time machine.”

  “Exactly.”

  Luke pointed to Wak’o and said, “Wak’o means woman, and Nikka means man.”

  Wak’o smiled.

  Grace suddenly remembered something. “When I first met her, she tried to talk to me, and I think she was speaking French, but I can’t speak it.”

  “Of course!” Luke said. “The French were the first white people to encounter the Osage.” Luke turned to Wak’o and said, “Bonjour.”

  Wak’o smiled and perked up. “Bonjour.”

  “Parlez-vous anglais?” Luke said.

  Wak’o shook her head and said, “Je ne peux parler français?”

  Luke exhaled a long breath. He shook his head. “Pas français.”

  Tears started down Wak’o’s face, and she turned and walked away.

  “What did you say to her?” Grace said. “I’ve never seen her cry.”

  “I don’t know enough French to even talk to her.”

  Grace went to Wak’o and hugged her. She turned back to Luke. “I wish I had taken French in high school.”

  Luke looked toward the ridge and back up the road. “When it gets dark, I’m going down there and get my friends out of that place.” He turned to Grace. “One of them is a woman, and I bet she can speak French and many other languages.”

  Grace knew the woman he was speaking about. They had seen her. They had stalked her, trying to find out who she was and what she was about. Grace knew she was not of this land. But Grace had a strange feeling about the woman. She had a feeling that the woman always knew they were there, even though they were well hidden. Grace never tried to approach her; something told her she could not trust her. She was like a bad dog. Sometimes you can just tell. Sometimes you know if they will bite.

  Dark found them at the ridge looking down on the city. It was sprinkled with candlelight, like fireflies over a marsh. It was not like cities back in Luke’s world; there were no streetlights, no neon signs, only the candles and small fires. There were plenty of shadows to hide in. And Luke knew they would need that. They didn’t know the area so they would need all the help they could find.

  The point of the pyramid crackled and sparks shot out of it into the black night. It somehow seemed out of place. Luke sure would like to know what was going on with that pyramid. Maybe he could just go down there and tap one of the giants on the shoulder. “Excuse me, Mr. Giant. What is up with the electric pyramid?”

  “We sure didn’t learn about any such pyramids in school,” Grace said. “Maybe aliens are in it.”

  “There are no ali…”, Luke began, but hell, who knew what was in that thing.

  “Where do you think they took your friend?” Grace said.

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” Luke handed Grace his bag. “If I’m not back by sunup, you and Wak’o head out of here.”

  “I’m going down there with you.”

  “No. You stay here. There is no need both of us putting ourselves in danger.”

  “Well, do you have a plan?”

  Luke had no plan. He was going to play it by ear.

  “Luke, you know we can handle ourselves quite well,” Grace said. “I think we’ve proved that.”

  He looked at her, admired her. She was beautiful—it was easy to see how Tyler had fallen for her. But she wasn’t the innocent girl that he thought he knew. She had proven to be resourceful and brave. In fact, the two girls were probably better suited for the mission than Luke was. But the whole purpose of his even being here was to search for her, and there was no way he was going to let her risk her life anymore than she had already. “Grace, please promise you will wait here. I will need help on the escape.”

  She raked her hair from over her left eye. “I can’t—I won’t promise that to you. But we will stay put for a time.”

  He realized there was no need to debate the issue with her—he didn’t have the time, and he would lose. “Fair enough, but please give me some time.”

  She smiled. “Good luck, Luke.”

  He made his way down the dark trail; this time he was more cautious. He slowed his pace. He was the hunter, just like back home in the Ozarks. All his senses were at their peak. His tomahawk was in his belt, and his bow was strung and ready for service. He stayed to the shadows; it was easy with the dim lighting. And he had heard no dogs to give him away, no alarms, or security cameras either.

  As he moved in the shadows of the streets, he soon realized many of these buildings weren’t homes. He looked into one of the buildings and found it to contain grain and implements. Another had pottery and baskets, and so it went. It was as if the place was a city of storage with a giant pyramid in the middle.

  A door opened across the street. He slid behind some kind of cart. A man stepped out the door. He was extremely tall—one of the giants. Luke felt his breathing stop. The giant had a long pointy head, but otherwise he just appeared to be a very big man. The giant moved down the street in the direction of the pyramid, reminded Luke of a clown walking on stilts.

  Luke saw other doors opening and giants coming out. They all went toward the pyramid. He followed, slipping from one shadow to the next.

  The giants all congregated in a large plaza at the base of the pyramid. Luke found a tree large enough to hold him, and he shimmied up it. He surveyed the situation with his binoculars. He figured there to be about fifty or so of the giants and about that many more of the regular-sized people. The giants were all seated in the plaza facing a stage in front of the pyramid. The stage looked like a large slab of polished granite with two large white columns protruding from it like white tusks. The short people were around the perimeter—they were guards. The giants were all talking and laughing. Luke looked around to make sure he had not been spotted—he appeared to be safe.

  A door opened at the base of the pyramid, and another giant stepped out and went to the stage. He was dressed in white and clad in gold and jewels. The talking and murmuring stopped, and they all turned to face him. He started up with a speech or sermon that would rival any preacher on television. The acoustics were so good, that he didn’t need an amplifier. He went on and on and on and on. The crowd would cheer at the appropriate pause, and he would start up again. Luke was waiting for someone to come around with the collection plate when they all suddenly turned toward the back. A half dozen of the guards led someone through the crowd at spear-point—it was Adam.

  Adam held his head high and chest out, his long auburn hair splayed on his shoulders like a cape. They marched him to one of the white columns. They backed him to it and tied his hands behind him and to it. As the guards marched away from the stage, the preacher pointed toward him and started in with the preaching again. Adam looked defiant. He was a man’s man, indeed. The speech went on for about thirty minutes, and then the preacher stopped and went back into the pyramid. All at once it was as quiet as a wake, except for the sparkle and static at the point of the pyramid, and it dragged on like that painfully for a time.

  Then the large door opened again, and the preacher came out, followed by two even larger giants—they had to be fifteen feet tall, and they both had large flat swords. Luke felt his heart drop. Adam saw what was happening and began to struggle at the column, but it was no use. The two giants moved to Adam and raised their swords, but froze with them high in the air like baseball players ready to swing. The preacher pointed and preached. The other giants were on their feet, chanting in a low murm
ur.

  Luke squeezed the bow in his hand, but it was too far for a sure shot—they were at least eighty yards from his tree. Maybe he could get lucky—at least disrupt the proceedings.

  The preacher grew louder. The crowd chanted faster.

  Luke pulled the arrow to his cheek. He concentrated on the preacher.

  The chanting increased.

  Luke knew something bad was going to happen when the chanting hit a certain rhythm—he had to get the shot off. But he had to concentrate totally on the shot or it was no good.

  The crowd began stomping and chanting faster.

  Luke found a gold medallion hanging on the preacher’s chest. He concentrated on it. The feather of the arrow touched his nose. His middle finger settled between his lips. He zeroed in on the medallion—there was nothing else in the world but the medallion. His muscles began to relax. His concentration was totally on the—

  “Stop!”

  Luke lost his concentration, but quickly tried to regain it for the shot. The preacher and the crowd all turned toward the rear of the plaza. Luke bore down on the medallion again. He anchored the arrow.

  “May I approach the Great Shevay?”

  Luke lowered the bow. It was English. It was a woman’s voice.

  The two giants with the swords stepped to the side of the preacher, and he raised his hands and said, “You may approach.”

  How the hell did this giant know English. Luke lowered the bow and raised his binoculars. The woman came out of the darkness. It was Moon. A few of the guards moved toward her, but the preacher yelled something and they halted.

  Moon moved up the aisle between the giants; they watched her come as if she were a bride or maybe a monster.

 

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