She finally removes the remnants of the long dead soldier from her boot and kicks it aside with a clatter and pulls out an LED flashlight clicking it on. Next, Nicole unfolds a strap and slides it onto her head like a sweatband. It kind of looks like she’s wearing a miner’s helmet—only without the helmet itself. We all follow suit and have a look around.
“Question,” Dad says. “How did the trap door reset itself and close the last time it opened?”
“Not sure. Maybe there’s a timer, or a pressure plate?” I reply. “Doesn’t really matter right now either way.”
“What happens if the door tries to close while we are down here? Omar asks. “We’ll be trapped.”
“It won’t,” Nicole says matter of fact. “I’m confident that the truck’s cable is too thick for that to happen. We should be fine.”
Should, I think. I really hate that word.
“Yep. Damn. It’s definitely them,” Kane says. He’s kneeling beside one of the more intact bodies inspecting the remains. “Still doesn’t make sense though.”
“What doesn’t make sense?” Dad asks looking over Kane’s shoulder.
Kane continues, “How do some of the best soldiers in the world fall down a hole that you and Hank survived?” He stands, “I mean, at least one or two of them should have survived, right?”
I shrug, “Ancient booby traps aren’t exactly my forte.” It’s a great question though. How did I survive the fall, but none of these highly trained professionals could? Unless…
“You don’t think the storm the day they went missing had anything to do with it do you?” I ask Kane.
“You never know. It can get pretty ugly, pretty quick, out here. All that would have needed to happen was for one guy to trip the trap and the wind and sand would do the rest.”
“One-by-one they would have plummeted to their deaths,” Nicole says adding to the already cheerful mood.
There’s a long silence. The kind that isn’t peaceful by any means, the straight up creepy kind.
“You guys see this?” Omar asks.
We all turn to find him staring straight up.
I join him and have a look myself. The hole we repelled through is actually a perfectly cut vertical shaft. Our twin beams of light gleam off the bronze colored surface of the walls. We look at each other in awe.
“Um, Dad,” I say not taking my eyes off the shining shaft. “You need to see this.”
Multiple sets of feet make their way over to join Omar and me.
“Is that…?” Dad asks.
“Orichalcum,” I say. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire 1,000 foot distance is constructed of it.”
“Why do you say that?” Omar asks.
“Because, why only build the last few feet out of it? I suspect whoever built this place had the means and the knowledge to do basically anything they wanted at the time.”
More silence follows our first of what I think will be many amazing discoveries.
“Um, guys…check out the rim of the shaft,” Nicole says.
“What the hell language is that?” Kane asks.
Around the rim of the vertical exit—of which we now stand ten feet directly beneath—is writing etched into the orichalcum plating. We all gather around and shine our lights up at it.
“Dad, Omar, you’re up,” I say.
“It kind of looks like Greek to be honest,” Dad says. “But the wording isn’t right. The nouns and verbs almost look out of order, but not.”
“Sort of like Yoda, right? All backwards and stuff?” Kane asks.
“Trust in the force you must,” I say in my best Yoda impression.
My dad looks over at us with that huh face, like we actually said something that was right. He nods as if contemplating it, “You two may actually be on to something there, even if your imitation of Yoda is terrible.” Nicole laughs at Dad poking fun at Kane and me.
“These aren’t the droids you’re looking for,” I say waving my hand in front of Kane like a Jedi, attempting to control his mind.
“That’s Ben Kenobi, man. Not Yoda,” Kane says slapping my hand away, laughing.
“I know. Still funny though.”
Dad continues with his explanation over the laughter, “Now that I’ve reread it a few times, it certainly does look like Greek, but written in an old fashioned verbiage.”
“Like some versions of the Bible?” Nicole asks.
“Exactly! Like if you read the King James Version versus the New Living Translation. Two different translations, but both with the same story.”
“Or like some poetry,” Kane states firmly.
We just look over at the big guy like he just spoke Russian or something.
“What? I’m more than just a pretty face you know,” He responds.
“Wait, older than Greek? That’s one of the oldest written languages in history,” I say a little shocked.
“It could be an older version of the language, or the proper version of it anyway,” Omar comments.
“What do you mean?” Dad asks.
“It’s like American-English and English-English. Both are accepted, though one is a far older version.”
“That’s the smartest thing I’ve heard you say yet,” Kane says jabbing an elbow into Omar’s side.
Before Omar can react, I ask, “What does it say?”
“That…would fall into your fathers talents not mine. I’m more apt at the languages of the desert, not of the ancient Mediterranean variety,” Omar answers and steps aside to give Dad a better vantage.
Dad continues his examination of the inscriptions left by the original inhabitants, “Well, well, well, Omar my boy, you are correct. If you reread each engraving a few times and reorder a few words here-and-there you come out with some legible writings. For instance…” He scans the one closest to him reading it out loud in a whisper first, then louder for everyone to hear.
“Entrance you shall be granted. Exit you shall earn.”
“Great…” Kane says with a hint of dread.
Dad moves on to the next one to the left, “Strength you must have, to survive.”
Then he moves to the next one, “The will of the chosen to deny.”
And finally, “Or the end will soon be had.”
“Ok,” I start, trying to put together the mysterious warning. “You have to earn your freedom, right? And you do that by being strong enough. So there is either a physical or mental challenge coming up…”
“Or both,” Nicole adds.
“Very true,” I continue my supposition. “The will of the chosen to deny. That sounds like a choice of some kind will have to be made.”
“What kind of choice,” Omar asks.
“The will of the chosen?” Kane asks. “Didn’t the guy at the airport call Hank the chosen? You know, before he blew himself up.”
“You don’t think…” I say.
“I don’t think this can be a coincidence, Harrison,” Dad says. “There has been a lot of bloodshed surrounding this and all of it has centered around this discovery.”
“Or else the end will soon be had,” Kane whispers.
“The end?” Nicole asks.
“No idea, but it sort of sounds like an apocalyptic prophecy, doesn’t it?” I answer.
“Shit.”
We all look at Kane. He looks very uncomfortable, but not because everyone is staring at him at the bottom of a deep dark hole filled with the remains of countless bodies.
“The end,” he says.
“What end?” I ask.
“It’s not a what, it’s a who.”
THE END
23
“A who?” I ask. “What’s a who?”
“The End is the who,” Kane says.
“Who’s end?”
“The End’s,” he replies.
“I’m confused,” Omar says shaking his head.
“Who’s The End, Kane?” Nicole asks getting back on course.
“The fourth elder,” Kane an
swers.
“Oh…crap,” I mutter.
Kane quickly retells the legend of the four elders and its significance to where we are standing and why I’m not too excited.
“So some archaic senior-citizen wanted to enslave or destroy the world and his buddies didn’t like it,” I say wrapping up the book club-like discussion.
“When the fourth elder left his order he changed his name to, The End of All Things, and vowed vengeance on the others,” Kane says. He finds a spot clear of debris and body parts and sits down. He takes a healthy swig from his water valve and sighs.
“The End, along with the other elders were supposed to have special abilities, if you believe in that sort of thing. He, in particular, was supposed to be able to control the elements around the world. Earth, air, water, fire and what not.”
“Water and air?” I ask and relay the events on our flight over. Things are starting to fall into place, things I didn’t think were possible.
“So are we to assume the spouts were this End-person trying to stop the Boyd’s from getting here and the lightning was the three elders keeping him at bay?” Omar asks with a look of what looks like wonder on his face.
I shrug again, feeling a little disturbed by the gleam in his eyes, “I guess so, but at least someone is on our side in this supernatural circus.” There is some weird crap going on, but it all has to be connected. I can sense it.
Kane stands back up and dusts himself off.
“Why do you think The End hasn’t shown his face more over the years?” I ask staring back up at the ominous warning.
“Who says he hasn’t?” Kane replies.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“If this guy can control the elements of the entire globe…who says he hasn’t influenced major storms and other natural disasters over the years. Would it shock you if we find out that the Tsunami that wiped out a large chunk of Indonesia was caused by him?”
Silence fills the eerie tomb entrance again, but thankfully not for long.
“So, now what?” Omar asks.
Good question, I think. What the hell do we do?
Without much of an answer to give, I say the only thing I can, “What we’re here to do. We head in the direction of the Tassili mountains and see where it takes us.” I turn around and look at Dad, “What direction?”
He pulls out a compass and checks it, “The Tassili’s are northeast of our current location.”
“Fine, northeast it is,” I say. “Kane, would you mind?”
He ejects his magazine, checks it and slams it home. It seems to be a thing with him.
“Okay everyone, eyes forward, weapons at the ready and safeties off. Keep your barrels pointed away from each other. Let’s not have an accident down here, alright?”
We all nod.
“Hank, up front with me. Dr. Boyd and Omar behind us.” He glances over to Nicole, “And you and the boys…guard our rears.” He gives her a smile like he just told the best joke ever.
She stares daggers into him not finding anything humorous, but Kane doesn’t budge.
I laugh, but get cut off when her cold stare turns to me.
Not funny.
I, unlike Kane, melt under her gaze, “Please?”
She rolls her eyes at us, drawing her other Ruger, and files in.
Kane turns and faces northeast towards our objective.
“Okay, let’s move.” He takes a step and pauses, turning back to us, “But, if a mummy or something jumps out at me, I’m gone. Back up the hole.”
24
The next hour dragged by with nothing out of the ordinary happening. The tunnel wound back and forth like crazy which caused a distance of about a mile to actually measure out to be closer to five. I have also noticed that we’ve been moving ever so slightly downhill, deeper underground.
Thankfully, the ambient temperature below the surface was considerably cooler than the surface. “Quite comfortable,” as Dad put it. Kane and Nicole were the only ones to still have their weapons drawn, although Nicole did holster one of her two Rugers.
The walls kept our attention off of the time and monotony of the hike.
“The inscriptions and pictographs are incredible! I’ve never seen anything like it before!” Dad exclaims. He has been so focused on the very ornate carvings in the tunnel walls that we sometimes catch him stopping and reading them. We had to forcibly drag him away from them once or twice already.
“Dr. Boyd,” Kane says. “We need to keep moving. We don’t have a lot of time—”
“Give him a second would you?” I interrupt. “This is why we’re here after all.”
Kane relents and I join my father and add my light to his. Nicole and Omar aid in as well, doubling the view. We light up a section of wall that most definitely has a very large pictograph etched into it.
“What is it?” I ask.
“It’s a battle…I think?” Dad says. “Omar, would you mind getting a few photos?”
Omar steps up and pulls out his very expensive looking Nikon and starts snapping some pictures. His flash lights up the room twice as good as our flashlights do.
When the first flash blooms, it causes my eyes to dilate. In turn I get a little light headed too. I grab the wall—the one with the intense combat—for support. As I make contact with the wall I black out and start seeing strange visions.
FLASH!
Lightning, raining fire, like a volcano erupting and a blizzard, together.
FLASH!
A tall man in what looks like black robes is in the middle of it all, hands outstretched. He calls to the elements, beckoning them to listen.
FLASH!
Three others, also hands outstretched, try to block the onset. Then I see them, people…thousands of them, fleeing from the maelstrom at the coast.
FLASH!
I let go and fall to the ground, panting.
Dad rushes to me, “Harrison! What happened?”
“I…I don’t know. I just touched the wall and…”
I open my eyes and look up at the picture. It’s exactly the same, the three trying to stop the one. I actually saw glimpses of the final battle that destroyed this lost civilization.
That doesn’t solve the issue of what I’m going to tell the others though. If I tell them, they’ll think I’m nuts. I’ll give it some time to stew and come back to it later. Maybe, I’ll have more answers then. Either way, this place is starting to give me a really bad feeling. Unfortunately, I think this was just the tip of the iceberg too.
“It’s fine. I’m good. I’m just tired and my nerves are still shot from the fall. It may have just been my shocked system telling me I need some rest.”
Dad helps me stand, “It has been a rough couple of days.”
I step back like nothing happened and do my leader thing.
“Omar, can you leave your flash on?” I ask. “I think I saw something else.”
Omar backs up as far as he can and turns on his flash. The wall is now in perfect view and it’s incredible. The detail is so in depth that it looks like it was drawn on a sheet of paper, not scribed into a wall.
“Whoa,” Kane says from behind us. “Is that…”
“The elders,” I say. “Locked in battle with a fourth. It also helps us understand where the legend came from—a starting point at least.”
“What’s he doing?” Nicole asks pointing to the forth elder.
Dad and I creep closer to further analyze the mural. It shows three figures fending off a fourth individual. The fourth has his hands up to the sky as if calling to it. Lightning rains down on the other three combatants along with fire and ice.
“Geez, this guy is bringing the kitchen sink,” Kane says.
You have no idea, I think to myself, replaying the vision I just had.
“What does this have to do with kitchen sinks?” Nicole asks.
“It’s uh…nothing. It’s just a figure of speech,” Kane replies trying not to laugh. “It means he’s bringi
ng everything he’s got to the party.”
“And then some,” Dad adds still in awe of the artistry on display. I don’t blame him either. What’s even more amazing is that this image is roughly three-to-four thousand years old—maybe older.
“This also leads credence to the belief that at least one of the elders had control over the elements. Just like the legend says,” Dad says in a trance-like state. “Plus, you have to assume that the other three had some talents of their own if they are trying to stop him.”
“Um, guys? There’s more,” Nicole says.
She’s turned around facing the other wall, behind Omar. Dad pulls Omar away from the wall and forcibly spins him to face the opposite side of the tunnel.
Wow.
These sets of images are a little more light hearted than the epic battle now behind us. It shows agricultural advancements, water travel in ancient ships and elaborate palaces. All of which is on an island, set into a massive body of water, but with a coast off in the distance. Maybe the Sahara before it dried up? I think. It also curiously shows four people at the center of the ringed island joined hand-in-hand in celebration.
“It’s…Atlantis,” I say in a whisper.
We just stare and marvel at the sight. This is the first ever concrete evidence of the ancient island nation. No one says a word. What do you say when you discover something as significant as this?
“So, what happened to this place?” Kane asks almost saddened.
Dad and I look up at him and then each other.
“Some say a storm wiped out the island,” Dad replies. “Others say it was a volcano that erupted. Some others say an underwater earthquake sank it.
“No one really knows…” I add.
“Yet,” Nicole finishes.
I smile and nod slightly.
Dad straightens, “Because WE are going to find out!”
The moral is high and the mood is light…until the ground rumbles and shakes like we’re in that volcano. Everyone stops and nobody breathes, five seconds later the shaking stops and we collect ourselves.
“Alright everyone, let’s get moving,” I say, glancing at the nervous faces around me. The words are empty. I’m officially scared shitless, but need to be strong for everyone else—or at least pretend it to be. The worst part is that we will be moving towards the rumbling, but I decide to keep that nugget of truth to myself.
Blood and Sand Page 9
