by R. K.
“Professor, I can only promise you one thing: I’ll use this rod in any way I see fit to make sure that my sister is okay. In the process of doing that, I will also see to your daughter’s well-being.”
“They do not matter,” he said as he sat back heavily. “You must not give him the rod. No man should be able to wield the power of God, especially a man like him.”
They said nothing more as Sean was lost in thought, still trying to make sense of what he had heard. It had been almost two hours since the explosion and Alex was finally showing signs of coming back to life. It took him a while before he was able to shake off the effects of the drug they had been given, but when he did, his first questions were: “What are we doing in this boat? And how did the professor die?”
~ Nine ~
As the dark of night finally yielded to the new day, Alex stirred from his unsatisfying attempt at sleep. The three men had little room to move in the small boat, and the fact that one of them was nothing more than a corpse added to their discomfort. The after-effects of the drug they had been given still wore on Alex. Sean had felt as good as new as soon as he touched the wooden staff. He examined it as well as he could while they drifted in the night. When it was in hand, it still felt as though it had some unknown internal energy. Even after everything that had happened the previous day, he wasn’t completely sold on the idea that this was the same staff mentioned in the Bible. He laid it by his side and his thoughts returned to his sister and Tori. He replayed the conversation he had with the professor in his mind, and committed everything he was told to memory by going over it again and again.
They stripped the body of its outer garments and used them to protect against the chill of the evening. They would be necessary through the day as well to counter the exposure to the sun. Time was not on their side.
Alex adjusted himself so as to take a better look around, making an effort to lift his head above the side of the boat in doing so. The small rolling waves facilitated a comfortable ride, but they did nothing to assuage the fears about what lay ahead of them. Even with their communication device, their prospects of being helped remained meager at best. He settled back in and stared at his best friend. Sean had told him everything that happened as well as the professor’s explanation of why. Alex attempted to debate some of the more exotic points, but Sean reminded him that he was only relaying what he had been told; he wasn’t its originator.
“What now?” Alex asked for lack of anything better to say.
“Now, we send a message, one I hope will keep the girls safe until we find a way out of here.”
“You really think we will make it out of here?” Alex asked with some skepticism.
Sean looked at him and said with a wide grin, “Sure, why not?”
Alex could think of a hundred reasons for ‘why not’ but he kept them to himself. Unlike Sean, he was only partially concerned about Dee and even less so about Tori. His primary concern was about their present circumstances. He was glad Sean was here with him, but even his presence and over-abundant confidence did little to lighten his apprehension. He saw him reach for something that looked like an over-sized cell phone.
“What’s that?” Alex asked.
“A communication device the professor had. You can send text messages with it from anywhere.” He turned on the communicator and waited for it to finish its start-up.
“We can send for help then,” Alex said excitedly as he moved to sit up a little higher in the boat.
“No, I think we’re on our own in that department. I’ll need it to make sure the girls are okay and to send a message to someone,” Sean said in a serious tone.
“But if we get help, then we can do whatever we have to for the girls.” Alex argued.
“After I send the message I’m turning this off. I’m not going to take the chance that this thing can be tracked. If he sends people after us, we’re done for. All we can do now is buy some time.”
Alex started to argue once more but by then he knew it was too late. It was times like this that tested the limits of their friendship. Not that they faced life or death situations with regularity, but whenever Sean felt as if there was only one way to do something, he assumed his way was the right one for all concerned. Alex was upset that his concerns were virtually ignored, but he was also curious as to what kind of message he was sending.
Sean scrolled to find the address the professor had been sending his messages to. When he found it, he typed in one of his own. Chandler, I have the rod and you have the girls. If nothing happens to them we have something to talk about. I’ll be in touch. SR
He turned off the small machine and put it on his lap. He looked at his friend who was still staring at him as they sat at opposite sides of the boat with their legs stretched out alongside one another.
“I’m gonna try and get some sleep.” Sean said.
Still holding a scowl on his face Alex asked, “What did you say?”
Sean told him.
“Great! I hope he isn’t made too uncomfortable while he waits to hear from us.” He said with as much sarcasm as he felt.
“Don’t worry so much; it doesn’t change anything.”
Just before he was about to share the litany of thoughts that were going through his mind, he instead broached another subject. “What about him?” he said nodding his head toward the professor. “Should we dump him overboard, or were you planning on taking him with us?”
“Let’s keep him for a while. I’d rather bury him properly if we can.”
“Yeah, I’ll tell you what. You go ahead and take your nap and at the first sign of land I’ll wake you so that we can bury the body, grab a bite to eat, and catch a plane ride home,” Alex said mockingly.
“Sounds good,” Sean said as he turned to his side and closed his eyes ignoring his friend’s riposte.
When they regained consciousness, they found themselves secured by their wrists and ankles to a comfortable leather seat. The necessity to swallow in an attempt to relieve the pressure from inside their ears, and the subtle whine of the turbine engines, made it clear they were on an airplane. A thick swath of tape was covering their mouths, but they turned to nod to one another in a gesture of support. They sat on opposite sides of the plane facing forward.
Dee could see two men sitting in the cockpit and two more just behind it, all with their backs to the girls. Dee guessed it was about the size of a corporate jet. She struggled against the metal restraints but knew it was a futile attempt. The window coverings were closed, so she was not able to tell if they were over water or land. She had a mild headache and tried to recall what had happened, and how they came to be on the plane. As soon as the fear of the unknown played its way into her thinking, she forced herself to maintain control over her emotions. She would not show weakness, and she would do her best to keep a level head while waiting to learn what it was that was happening to them.
Only on one occasion, shortly before they landed, did anyone come to check on them. It was Marcel. He neither smiled nor said anything to them as he checked to ensure their restraints were in place. Tori tried to talk through the tape achieving little more than a muted mumble. Dee just stared at her captor. He didn’t react to either woman before returning to his seat. After they touched down, the plane taxied for a long while before it finally shut down its engines. Although the windows were covered in the back, the ones up front allowed light into the cabin. Dee could see that what was once light outside the aircraft had now turned to darkness. It wasn’t a darkness associated with nightfall, but rather, a lack of natural light. They waited to see what would happen.
Finley, along with the third man who was on their charter, walked back, removed them from their seats one at a time and led them out of the plane. When Dee stepped out, she noticed that they were inside a large hangar. There were two large black sport utility vehicles with heavily tinted windows parked beside the airplane. Dee accepted the guidance of her escort, but without giving any sign of weakn
ess. Tori was already in the back of the first vehicle when Dee was placed beside her from the opposite side. When she sat down, her escort reached across her body and secured the restraint that remained on her left hand to a raised steel bar fastened to the space between the two seats. The proximity of the man across her lap caused Dee to make her displeasure known even though it was lost behind a mask of tape.
When the door was closed they could no longer see outside of the vehicle. The front seats were on the other side of a dark colored partition. They heard the sounds of men walking and talking and the occasional slam of a car door being closed. They felt the movement of their own vehicle as someone got in the front seat and started the engine.
The girls looked at one another again as confusion gave rise to concern. The look on Tori’s face told Dee she didn’t know any more than Dee did. It also displayed that Tori had a resolve of her own. That made Dee feel a little better. Being raised with Sean, though a challenge in so many ways, had affected Dee with a sense of certitude and self-confidence. She would do what needed to be done when the time came, or at least she would try. She only hoped that there was some kind of rational explanation for what was going on.
There were no sea birds in the area, and no other signs of life. The corpse was starting to smell, yet Sean still resisted the urge of dumping the body overboard. The natural concerns of dehydration and nutrition were prevalent on their minds, but remained unspoken. There was no need to state the obvious.
They took turns using the one paddle to move them in a linear direction. They were not sure where they were going, but the activity itself served as a distraction. They limited their efforts to keep from excessive perspiration. When they stopped altogether, Sean thought of every topic he could call to mind to engage Alex in debate. He did this for a variety of reasons. Alex was prone to being emotional. Though he was short-tempered, he was also gentle and generous when the situation warranted such sentiment. He could cry at the end of a sad movie and then turn to throw punches at the first person to make an issue of it. Sean knew how to ‘push his buttons’ better than anyone. By doing so now helped to pass the time. It also helped Alex not to focus on what they had no control over.
They argued about the business, they argued about the future, and they argued about the past. After some time had gone by, Alex finally caught on to what his friend was doing.
“We keep this up and we’re not going to have anything to say to each other when this is all over.”
“We’ll make up some new things,” Sean said with a grin.
Alex returned the grin. “I know I don’t have to say it, but we’re gonna need some water and soon.”
Both men knew it, and their thoughts turned inward having nothing else to say.
The sun had fallen below the skyline and darkness was once again washing over them. The moon was still providing ample light and the air was comfortable. They heard no man-made sounds to indicate the presence of anyone in their immediate area. They saw the occasional trail from commercial airliners as they crossed the sky throughout the day. By night they had the stars.
The subtle sound and motion of the waves lapping against the side of their boat was relaxing. They were appreciative of the fact that the weather that had followed them up until their present circumstances—the dark gray and angry clouds with the choppy swells—had subsided. That would have only added to their current level of anxiety.
Their bodies were stiff from lack of proper movement and each ache or pain that presented itself along the way was exaggerated due to the lack of diversion. Alex was starting to accept the inevitability of death; Sean was determined to find the girls.
Marcel and Finley were standing before the antique walnut desk as Silas Chandler’s glare held them in place. At seventy-two years of age, one would normally expect the passing of time to take its toll on natural vitality. Silas Chandler was an exception to the rule. While his full head of natural silver colored hair was reflective of his years, his eyes were as youthful as was his bearing. He was immaculate in dress and exhibited the manners of royalty when in the company of others. He was physically fit, rarely failing to complete fifty or more laps in his Olympic sized swimming pool each morning. At the moment, his thoughts were barely tempered with mild rage as his clear blue eyes bore into the men standing before him. He had received the text message three hours before they arrived.
Marcel contacted him from the boat explaining what had taken place and that they were bringing the women with them. Silas had said nothing but wondered why they had not just left them behind with the professor when he tried to interfere. They were originally supposed to bring him and his daughter out. For some reason they included this other woman. He decided they could be dealt with later. He wanted the relic without delay.
He knew he could not change what had happened. It was a series of unfortunate events. He had only revealed what was necessary to each of his factors. The men had no need to know what it was they were delivering, other than its description, and the professor had no need to know their purpose for being along. He made the mistake of assuming the ark was intact and that its contents were secured inside. He knew the professor had to know what the wooden staff represented, but he obviously held back that information from the others. He wondered why. It didn’t matter now. They had to find it at all costs.
“You will go back there and find the man who should be lying on the bottom of the sea as we speak. Use as many planes, boats, and men as necessary; but find him. He has a wooden staff with him . . .”
“I saw that staff of his,” Finley said.
Not used to being interrupted—especially by men he personally loathed the very sight of—Silas Chandler raised his eyes in surprise at the very act of doing so. Marcel jabbed his elbow into his partner’s side to shut him up.
“Good. Then you know what to look for when you find him.”
The men turned to leave the room but were stopped before they reached the door.
“Marcel.” Silas Chandler said causing him to turn around. “Bring me that staff, or don’t bother coming back. In fact, if I was you I would view it as a matter of life or death,” he said with a note of finality.
Marcel knew him well enough to know the gravity of the statement. He was afraid of no man, but he was well aware of the ruthlessness of the man who employed him and the power he wielded.
There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and with the sun positioned directly above them, they believed it was sometime in the middle of the day. Normally they would be enjoying lunch at this time, but that was a luxury they only hoped they would experience again. Their lips were dry and chapped, and they had a thin film of salt on their skin from the mist of spray that washed against the side of the small rubber boat. They kept their conversations to a minimum in an attempt to keep the moisture from escaping their mouths.
The movement of the waves seemed perpetual as they rode along at the mercy of the ocean. That morning they had heard the sounds of a seaplane, but their hopes were soon dashed when they realized it would not be coming anywhere near them. Even in their bright orange rubber boat, they would be almost invisible to the naked eye in the boundless sea unless someone was directly upon them.
As they lay covered in the boat on this afternoon, something seemed strange. Not really strange, but different from their steady monotonous drifting. Alex noticed it first and raised his head to peer over the side of the boat. He did this with his back to the corpse as it was now quite rigid and foul smelling. He couldn’t see very clearly as his head was barely above the height of the small waves. He was sure something had changed and he was determined to see what it was. As he lifted himself higher, to get a better view, Sean also became aware of the change.
“What is it?” Sean asked in a raspy voice while watching his friend look around.
Desperate for anything that could symbolize hope, Alex remained silent while almost willing his eyes to see something, anything. At last they did. It was what was differ
ent; the sound. It was the sound of waves washing upon a shore. Although this was no shoreline, it was an island.
“There!” Alex said with excitement. “Get the paddle, we need to go there,” he said while pointing at the small land mass, barely visible above the water.
Sean saw it too and picked up the paddle to start rowing in its direction. He understood his friend’s reaction, but his was more tempered as he saw that the island itself was little more than a small piece of land in the middle of a large body of water.
When they were close, Alex tied a rope attached to the boat across his waist and slid over the side to swim the rest of the way in while pulling the boat behind him. If I’d have known he had that much energy I would have left him do the rowing, Sean thought.
Sean got out and they both dragged the boat onto the rocky shore with the professor’s body still inside. He was the first one to speak.
“I’d say we found us an underwater island at low tide,” he said as they looked around.
It was approximately two-hundred yards in length, and no more than thirty in width at its widest point. Near the center was a raised rock formation that seemed to extend below ground and underwater.
“Damn.” Alex swore.
“We might as well look it over. We’re here now and we need to stretch and loosen up a bit.”
Alex agreed but was still disappointed that what they found would do them little to no good. When the tide turned, it would all be underwater again.
Sean led the way to the only distinct feature on the tiny island. When they walked up to it, they saw the porous rock formed into a U-shaped bowl. It stood three feet above the ground surrounding it, and on its inside it concealed an underwater grotto. Evidently there was an opening to the ocean below ground level.
