Indiana Jones and the Genesis Deluge

by Rob MacGregor

  Katrina held the Ark wood to her breast and rocked gently forward and back. She breathed deeply, exhaled, and let go of all thoughts. She drifted just above sleep, and it wasn't long before she saw an image of Jack, the horn player.

  At first, she just saw his face. Then she realized that he was looking down at her, and slowly she was drawn into the scene. The impressions were more than just visual. She could feel, hear, and sense his presence. It was as if she was really with him. And how she was with him!

  His face was just above hers, his lips were parted. He leaned down and kissed her. She returned his kiss and hugged him tightly. They were lying down very close to each other, and a hand grazed her breast, then ran down her belly and along hip and thigh.

  "Katrina."

  She looked up and saw that it wasn't Jack.... It was Indy.

  "Katrina..."

  This time she knew it was her father's voice. She blinked her eyes open. Gasped for breath. He was staring intently at her. She laid the Ark wood down on the coffee table in front of her.

  "Well?"

  "I'm... not sure." It had seemed so real. But why had the faces changed? What did it mean? She was confused and flustered. And now she was embarrassed, too; Papa had been sitting here calmly watching her. She wondered what sounds she had made, and what her body had done.

  "You must have seen something. You were so... intense. You were whispering to someone."

  Not only whispering, she thought.

  "What did I say?"

  "I couldn't understand, but I know who you were talking to."

  "You do?"

  "It was the Lord, wasn't it?" Zobolotsky said. "You were talking with the Lord."

  "I think he said Indy is the right one."

  "Are you sure?"

  She didn't like the way he was looking at her as if he doubted her. She was tempted to ask him if he doubted the word of the Lord. But she couldn't say it. "I think so."

  She slowly rewrapped the Ark wood in the cloth and tried to make sense of what had happened to her. Maybe the devil had fanned her passion. No. She refused to believe that. The act of love was not the devil's work. She knew that much. Then it dawned on her. The Ark was about survival and so was lovemaking. The only thing was, it hadn't really happened. She'd imagined it. But maybe she had also foreseen what was to be. But with which man?

  Then her father dropped the bombshell. "I don't think Jones is the one, Katrina. There's something about him that I don't like. Let's pack and leave right now."

  "But, Papa!"

  "If it wasn't clear to you, he's not the one we want."

  "But I think it was clear. It's just that..."

  "Just what?"

  "Nothing."

  He laid a hand on her shoulder. "You'll see, Katrina. It'll work out. There are lots of universities in New York. We'll find an archaeologist there. And this way we'll also be rid of those two Trotskyites. I'm sure you'll be glad of that."

  Katrina didn't answer. She moved over to the closet and started to pack.

  They were both covered in blood and surrounded by the carnage. Shannon was hugging Harry's body, crying and babbling to the dead man as Indy tried to comfort his friend. Indy knew he had to do something. They were vulnerable. The mobsters could swing by again before the cops got here. Given what had happened in the jail, he didn't trust the cops, either.

  "Jack, we've got to get out of here. C'mon. Right now."

  "What are you talking about. I can't go anywhere. I can't just leave my brothers like this here."

  "Let them go, Jack. It won't do any good."

  "We've got to help them."

  "There's nothing we can do for them. Think about yourself. Your life is in danger. You've got to get out of Chicago."

  "Where am I going to go?"

  "Come on to the hotel with me. You'll be safe there until morning. We'll figure out what to do."

  Indy grabbed Shannon by the arm and pulled him away from the bullet-riddled car where his brothers lay dead. A siren wailed in the distance. They hurried down Cornell until they reached Fifty-third, then cut over to Lake Park Avenue.

  A trolley was approaching. Perfect timing, he thought. They'd be downtown in ten minutes. They leaped on and the trolley rolled ahead. There were a dozen people on board and everyone was staring at them. Indy looked down at his shirt and hands and over at Shannon. Christ. Their clothes and skin were streaked and stained with blood. They couldn't walk into the Blackstone this way. They'd be stopped before they'd gotten ten feet, and the police would be called.

  "Let's get off," Indy said as the trolley slowed.

  "What in the world happened to you boys?" an elderly woman asked.

  "The slaughterhouse, ma'am," Indy said. "The slaughterhouse."

  "What are we doing, Indy?" Shannon asked after they hopped down from the trolley.

  "I don't know, but we've got to get cleaned up."

  They backtracked until they reached Jackson Park, where they headed to a pool near the Palace of Fine Arts. The day was overcast and cool, and the park was nearly deserted. Indy took out a handkerchief, wet it in the pool, and washed his face and hands as best he could. He wrung out the handkerchief, then gave it to Shannon, who made an attempt to wash away the blood.

  Shannon handed him the handkerchief and stared blankly ahead. He was in shock. They needed to get to the hotel. Their faces were fairly clean, but their clothes were another matter. They needed to do something about them before they walked into the Blackstone.

  Then he spotted the two men in trench coats. The same two men he'd seen outside the museum. Who the hell were they, and what were they doing here? As he and Shannon ambled away from the pool Indy watched the men out of the corner of his eye, and an idea came to mind.

  "You still got your gun, Jack?"

  Shannon nodded.

  "Good. See those guys over there? When I say 'now,' pull the gun on them. You hear me, Jack?"

  "I hear you," Jack said in a monotone, then followed Indy toward the pair.

  As they neared them the men veered away. "Hey, fellows. How much you want for those coats?" Indy yelled.

  The men stopped and turned. "What?" one of them asked.

  Indy saw they were twins. "We need your raincoats."

  "I don't know what you are talking about," one said in accented English.

  "We don't sell our clothes on the street," Twin Two said as they started to move away.

  "Give us those coats. Now!"

  The men stopped and turned. Although Indy was sturdy and muscular, he was no match for these guys. They were at least fifty pounds heavier, two or three inches taller, and their necks looked as large as his thighs.

  Indy glanced at Shannon. "Now," he repeated.

  Twin One grabbed Indy by the collar of his shirt. "Maybe it's time you see some of your own blood."

  The gun was suddenly in Shannon's hand and it was aimed at Twin One's head. He knocked the man's hat off with the muzzle, revealing a completely bald head. "Let go, and move away if you want to keep your cue ball on your shoulders."

  The man did as Shannon said.

  "Now both of you, get those coats off or I'll shoot them full of holes with you inside."

  Indy was surprised by Shannon's recovery. It seemed the moment the twin had grabbed him, he snapped out of the shock and lethargy from the gunfight and deaths.

  The twins shrugged out of the trench coats. "Drop them at your feet," Indy said. "Now start walking. Move it."

  As soon as the twins had walked a few yards Indy grabbed the coats. "Let's get the hell out of here."

  Without another word, they dashed out of the park until they were back on Lake Park Avenue. They pulled on the coats as they spotted another trolley coming. Both of them were lost in the extra-large raincoats, but it didn't matter.

  They climbed aboard the trolley, and no one paid them any heed. Ten minutes later, they entered the lobby of the Blackstone. The belts on their raincoats were tightened, and their hands were in
side the deep pockets discreetly holding the hems above the carpeting.

  The elevator was waiting. "Howya doing, sir?"

  Indy saw that it was the doorman, who was now manning the elevator. "Hiya, Frankie. I thought you worked at the door."

  "I'm a man of many talents," Frankie answered. "Today I run the elevator. But to tell you the truth, sitting in this little room all day is boring. But don't tell my boss I said so."

  As the elevator rose Indy was struck by an idea. It seemed so obvious. It was just a matter of getting Shannon to agree to it, and he didn't think that was going to be too difficult. "Say, Frankie, I was talking to a young lady earlier today, a Miss Zobolotsky. Do you know which room she's in?"

  Frankie grinned. "Of course. She and her father are in the suite right above you."

  The elevator stopped and they headed down the hall to Indy's room. "Jack, why don't we both go to Turkey?"

  "You want me to go to Turkey with you?"

  "Why not? What better place to hide out. And don't forget, Katrina will be with us."

  "That's right. It's definitely worth considering, that is, if Zobolotsky will take me."

  Indy unlocked the door to the suite. "If they want me, then they're going to have to take you, too. Simple as that."

  Shannon slapped him on the back. "That's great. You are a friend."

  "Of course I am. C'mon. Let's get out of these clothes and go upstairs for a chat."

  10

  The Getaway

  Katrina tapped her foot impatiently as they waited for the elevator. The arrow above the door had gone from the first to the third floor and stopped. But now she heard the whining of the motor and the arrow edged toward four.

  She hadn't even bothered arguing with her father. It was no use. He was stubborn, and he would do as he saw fit. But she didn't understand why he'd changed his mind about Indy so suddenly. Maybe it was a look on her face or a word she'd uttered while she'd held the Ark wood. Something had made him decide to cross Indy out.

  Finally, the door creaked open, and the elevator operator nodded to them. He was the same young man who had accompanied her to the room on the night she'd gotten the Ark wood from the safe.

  "May I help you with your bags, Miss Zobolotsky?"

  "No, they're very light. Thank you."

  She was carrying her handbag and a small luggage case while her father held the bag with the Ark wood and a suitcase. They would send a bellboy for their other bags while they checked out.

  As the door closed and the elevator descended she felt the gaze of the operator on her. She gave him a rueful glance to let him know she didn't like being stared at.

  "Miss Zobolotsky?"

  "Yes," she answered stiffly. Don't say a word about the other night, she silently commanded.

  "There was someone just asking about you."

  "Who?" Zobolotsky asked.

  "Mr. Jones."

  "When was he here?"

  "He's here now."

  "Where?"

  "Katrina, that's enough. There's no need to say anything further to him. It'll just complicate things."

  "But, Papa. What's wrong with him?"

  "I don't think he would be a good influence on you."

  She was tempted to say something about how all little girls grow up, as he'd put it, but she wouldn't do it in front of the elevator operator.

  The door opened and Zobolotsky grabbed his suitcase and ushered Katrina toward the desk.

  "Mr. Jones is gonna be disappointed," Frankie said to himself as they walked away. "I do know that."

  Indy tried not to laugh as he looked at Shannon, who was wearing a pair of his pants that were several inches too short and a shirt that was too loose. "Well, that'll have to do until we can get you some new clothes. Let's go upstairs."

  They headed down the hall and waited for the elevator. "One floor up," Indy said.

  Frankie made a face. "You're not going to see Miss Zobolotsky, are you?"

  "Something wrong with that?"

  "Yeah. They checked out about fifteen minutes ago. They're gone."

  Indy held out his hand to keep the elevator door from closing. "Did they say why they were leaving so fast?"

  "No, sir, but I think Mr. Zobolotsky was afraid of something."

  "Any idea where they were going?"

  "They didn't say, but my guess is the train station."

  "Thanks." Indy and Shannon quickly backtracked to their room.

  "I wonder what he was afraid of," Shannon said.

  "Let's go find out. I'll pack and we'll be out of here in five minutes."

  "But I don't have any luggage," Shannon protested.

  "Good. You can help me carry mine."

  Katrina sat glumly by the window as the conductor made his last call for passengers. Indy should be here with them. But now it was too late. They were leaving without him, and that was as good as telling him they didn't want him along.

  The turn of events was giving her second thoughts about the expedition. If she was wrong about Indy, then maybe she was wrong about everything. Maybe she had thought Indy was the right one for the expedition because he was young and handsome, the very reason her father didn't want him along. Likewise, maybe she had foreseen her father going to Turkey and climbing Ararat just because she knew that was what he wanted to do. Maybe it was impossible to foretell anything.

  What if the Ark wood was nothing but a piece of old firewood, and her visions just a recurrence of childhood fantasies? What if there was no Ark? But Papa wouldn't lie. He must have seen it. Unless...

  Something about her father's story bothered her. It was something she knew, but couldn't quite place into context.

  It didn't take long for Indy to realize that the chances of finding Zobolotsky and Katrina were slim. One of the first weekends of the summer was approaching and the train station was so crowded it looked like everyone in Chicago was trying to get out of the city. "I say if we don't see them in another few minutes, we just hop a train and get out of here," he said.

  "Let me buy some clothes at least," Shannon said. "And I should go to the nightclub and get some money. I just can't leave empty-handed."

  "Jack, don't be stupid." They moved along the platform past clusters of travelers who were boarding trains on either side of them. "If you go back to the nightclub, you're as good as dead. And we can get you some clothes in another town. They do sell clothes outside of Chicago, you know."

  Shannon ignored Indy's sarcastic comment. "Capone and his henchmen are probably lying low. They're not going to bother me."

  "Uh, Jack, from what I remember, Capone said if you didn't play by his rules, it was curtains. I believe the guy. I think he keeps his word when it comes to killing his enemies."

  Shannon shrugged. "I don't know, Indy. Where would we go, New York?"

  "Hell no. If there's a hit on you, New York would be as bad as Chicago. Maybe worse."

  "Listen to you. You sound like one of the Shannon brothers yourself. God, I'm finally corrupting you."

  "Cut it out, Jack. I've had my fill of gangsters. You know that."

  Indy had told Shannon all about Julian Ray, the New York bookmaker and mobster who had placed odds against Colonel Fawcett's return to civilization with evidence of a lost city in the Amazon. Indy had belatedly learned that his own boss, Victor Bernard, was a compulsive gambler and had joined forces with Ray to keep Indy from ever reaching the Amazon. Ray's thugs and Bernard himself had narrowly missed accomplishing their goal.

  "If New York is out, then where do we go?" Shannon asked, as if New York were the only alternative to Chicago.

  "I've got an idea. Why don't we got to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan? You know, on the other side of the lake. We'll get a cabin in the woods for a while."

  "Yeah, and what are we going to do for money? Chop wood? Forget it, you know me, I like cities."

  Indy was about to suggest that Shannon get used to rural living for a while when he spotted a familiar face. It was
one of Capone's henchmen who had beat them up in the jail. "Look over there. On your left, by the next car."

  "I see him, and I just spotted his buddy across the way by the other train. I say we do a one-eighty and move on."

  "Good idea."

  They turned and started walking at a steady, but unhurried pace so as not to draw attention to themselves. They reached the end of the train and walked over to the next set of tracks, where a train hissed and belched a burst of smoke as it prepared to leave.

  The conductor yelled, "All aboard," and rattled off a list of cities to the east, ending with New York.

  As they moved along the platform the train started rolling out of the station. If Zobolotsky was getting ready to leave for Turkey with or without an archaeologist, it would make sense for him and Katrina to go to New York. But Zobolotsky and his plans were a secondary concern. Indy just wanted to stay alive.

  Shannon grabbed Indy by the arm. "Hold it. More trouble ahead."

  The platform was crowded, and it took Indy a moment to spot them. It wasn't Capone's henchmen, but the twin thugs. And the pair was heading right for them.

  Indy and Shannon turned and tried to lose themselves in the crowd. "Too bad we left the raincoats in the hotel room," Shannon said. "We could bargain with them."

  "Somehow I don't think they're the bargaining types. I don't know who they are, but I don't like them much."

  When Indy glanced over his shoulder, he saw that the twins were closing the gap. Then he glimpsed Capone's men moving toward them from the other direction. One of them pointed, and they charged toward them.

  "I think we're in big trouble, Jack." The train was picking up speed. The last car was approaching, and it was their only hope. "Hop aboard," Indy yelled.

  They both rushed after the car as it passed them, each of them swinging a bag. Indy leaped and grabbed the railing. He dropped his bag on the rear platform of the car and reached for Shannon. He was racing after the train, and the two thugs were right behind him. Indy leaned over and stretched as far as he could. His fingers brushed Shannon's, then he grabbed his hand and pulled him up onto the bottom step.