Sarcophagus: Their mistake wasn’t finding it, it was bringing it back!

by Ben Hammott

  “This is the Amazongas, I am heading for Portsmouth harbor but have damaged controls. Can you tell me my position and course correction to reach the harbour?”

  He waited a few moments. When there was no reply, he repeated the request. Again, he received no response. When he reached up to try a different channel, he noticed the claw marks across the radio panel and hanging wires. The radio was dead. He replaced the receiver, stared out at the storm, and prayed they would reach port safely.

  He stumbled over the console when the ship lurched violently. The groan of steel was followed by a shuddering that vibrated through the hull and up his legs. They had hit something. He thought he heard the splintering of wood born on the wind that might indicate they had collided with another vessel. Hoping no one had been killed or injured, he grabbed the speed control lever and yanked it to the all stop position and then the reverse position.

  The two men in the engine room stopped shoveling coal when the ship lurched with a juddering squeal and a loud boom rang out. Their eyes followed the disturbing squeals and bangs of something scraping along either side of the hull, the sound loud and frightening within the non-soundproofed and uninsulated room.

  Kelly arrived and emptied the wheelbarrow load of coal on the pile beside the men. “We’ve hit something!”

  One of the men opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by an insistent BWEEP! BWEEP! Their heads turned to the flashing red light, its cover grimy with coal dust, and the speed command panel connected directly to the bridge’s speed control. The twin needles on either side of the oblong panel pointed at ALL STOP!

  Kelly, the only one of them familiar with the workings of the engine room, rushed to the twin engines large gearbox and pulled one of the large clutch levers to disengage the screw. The rattling, throbbing whine of the engines decreased. Another BWEEP, less urgent sounding, signaled a new command. Though he couldn’t see the face of the speed command panel, the flashing blue light, bright in the gloom, indicated the desired command. He sidestepped along the row of levers and pushed one forward. The whole room vibrated and rattled furiously when the old engine protested at being forced to turn the screw in reverse before it had stopped revolving in the opposite direction.

  The men stared at the rattling, screeching engines. It was like an angry mechanical monster preparing to take out its wrath on its human slaves.

  Kelly turned, glanced at the dropping pressure gauges and glared at the two, coal-dust-streaked men. “Feed the damn thing. The pressure’s dropping.”

  The men snapped out of their trance and shoveled coal into the mouth of the angry metal monster.

  Powerless to stop the ship’s forward motion with any degree of urgency, Coleman swayed when something else was struck. Leaving the ship in fate’s hands, he rushed out onto the gangway. Ignoring the pelting rain and strong gusts of wind that threatened to pitch him over the rail, he peered past the bow. Faint lights indicated the ship had reached land. He leaned over the rail and looked at the flashes of white wreckage floating past. He recognized some pieces as parts of boats, and there was more than one of them. His memory recalled the neat rows of luxury yachts moored at the exclusive Portsmouth Blue Sea Marina. He had stared enviously at the impressive boats he could never afford many times on his way to port. They had struck land too early. The main deep-water port was a half-mile farther along the coast. His only consolation was it was doubtful many people would be aboard the boats.

  The members and guests invited to the annual dinner and dance of the Blue Sea Marina continued to stare at the chaos taking place before their eyes. When the ship showed no sign of stopping and rode up the launching ramp, onto the concrete siding and smashed through the gleaming expensive cars in the executive car park, they took a step back from the window. The sound of the screeching torment of metal sliding across concrete, the crunching of cars and the car alarms was loud even through the large windows. They stepped back again when the ship’s bow filled their view.

  The ship’s momentum finally slowed as it approached the clubhouse. The steel bow gently nudged the window as it came to a grinding halt. Spiderweb cracks crept out from the point of impact before it exploded. Glass tinkled to the ground as a woman screamed. Rain carried by the wind howling through the broken widow soaked those nearest. The distant sounds of the police and ambulance services alerted by the Coast Guard to the imminent catastrophe grew louder as they arrived on the scene. Bright spotlights from the two Coast Guard launches arriving in the wake of the ship roamed over the shocked people in the clubhouse.

  Elizabeth Grace Frobisher moved beside an older gentleman she thought might be a suitable replacement for Smythe and her requirements; rich and not long for this world, naturally or otherwise. She unbuttoned another button to reveal more of her ample assets, and swooned theatrically with a sigh loud enough to attract the man’s attention.

  The man turned and grabbed the fainting woman before she hit the floor. His eyes took in the proudly displayed cleavage as he supported the distraught woman overcome by events.

  Elizabeth smiled when she saw the man looking at her chest. He had been hooked. Now all she had to do was reel him in. It would be easy.

  PART 2

  HORROR AT THE MUSEUM

  CHAPTER 13

  The Grand Unveiling

  On the night of the pre-exhibition opening—three months after the Amazongas had crashed into port—dignitaries and the well-connected arrived in their expensive chauffeur-driven limousines, luxury cars, or taxis and walked the length of the red carpet laid out for them. On entering the museum, lurking waiters and waitresses handed out glasses of wine and tempting hors d'oeuvres to the guests who were filled with anticipation.

  Over the weeks leading up to the opening of the exhibition, the museum’s publicity machine had steadily released tantalizing snippets of the exceptional finds made in one of the remotest areas of the Amazon jungle. The information and photographs that appeared almost daily in the press, refueled the excitement and fascination that had already swept the globe with Carter’s amazing discovery of Tutankhamun’s treasure-laden tomb a few years before. It was still years away from being emptied and presented to the public, but not so with the Maya treasure, which would be seen by the paying public for the first time tomorrow. Ticket sales for the Maya exhibition had exceeded all expectations and had to be extended to accommodate those clamoring to see it.

  The guests chatted and pointed at the enlarged photographs that decorated the rotunda, portraying some of the statues and carvings Greyson had passed outside the city. The two stone statues of Itzamma and Kisin that stood either side of the entrance to the expedition, currently blocked by a smaller plaster and wood mockup of the lost city’s entrance gates, also drew the guests attention.

  Trevor Essington was checking the exhibition for a final time to ensure everything was ready for his VIP guests and the press about to swarm through the entrance. He strolled through the impressive rooms and past atmospherically lit Maya exhibits. He paused in the clearing of the recreated jungle setting and admired the life-size figures of gold-painted Maya warriors. Some were armed with the actual gold-tipped spears they had died holding and two held a gold-painted copy of the golden net. All surrounded the snarling monster that had been faithfully modeled on Greyson’s descriptions. It truly looked fearsome. The flickering lights that gave it and the warriors a sense of movement and falsely hinted they might come to life. Trevor smiled. The visitors would love it.

  Though the newspaper reports covering the monster’s killing spree during the voyage to England had been harrowing, it had morbidly increased the public’s awareness of the exhibition and the demand for tickets. Earlier that day Trevor had received the latest profit figures. They were in the millions and tickets sales showed no sign of slowing. It seemed likely the exhibition would have to be extended for another six months or even longer if ticket sales continued selling as they were. Museums around the world were practically begging to be
allowed to borrow some of the artifacts so they could stage their own exhibitions. It was without a doubt the most successful museum exhibition yet.

  Trevor strolled along the path that wound around the display, stepped through the Maya themed archway and paused at one of the holes set in the recreated fake stone wall. He leaned closer and peered through the hole at the fabulous room filled with golden artifacts. Though these were only cheap props recreating the treasure, they was set out in the exact position as shown by the photograph Greyson had taken when first making the discovery, the lighting made them appear indistinguishable from the real thing. They would allow visitors to experience the discovery just had Greyson and Kramer had done.

  He had at first been against the idea Greyson had proposed to recreate his experiences and the rooms they had discovered in the mysterious lost city, but he had relented when their talented and enthusiastic in-house display consultant, Mary Nickels, jumped on the idea and produced impressive water colors of how the exhibition would look. Now he was glad he had succumbed. The gloomy chambers and low-key lighting created a mysterious atmosphere that was vastly different from the brightly lit, glass-caged artifact displays museums normally used to present their finds and acquisitions. It was, in a small way, like he was making the discoveries for himself. Yes, it had been expensive and a risk, but ticket sales proved it had been the correct decision.

  Trevor walked along the wall and stepped through another Maya arch into the treasure room. The golden objects on the pedestals and plinths that filled the room, were entombed behind security glass, something their insurance company had insisted on. Even Greyson and Nickels had seen this was necessary, as were the security guards who would regularly patrol the expedition, both when it was open and closed.

  The opening in the far wall led into the reconstructed treasure room where only one object was on display, also protected behind security glass—the large golden panels. When the exhibition opened to the paying public tomorrow, an automatic narration would be played to each group of twenty let into the exhibition at five-minute intervals. Spotlights would highlight in turn each section of the panel as it was being explained. Everything had been carefully planned to give visitors an amazing atmospheric experience, but also to keep them moving so a bottleneck didn’t occur. Curators hired for the exhibition would be dressed as Maya warriors and politely prompt any stragglers to keep moving.

  Bathed in the golden panels’ reflected glow, Trevor crossed the room and entered the exhibition’s finale—the tomb chamber. His gaze swept the room approvingly. His staff had excelled themselves in recreating the underground tomb where the artifacts had lain undiscovered for hundreds of years.

  Trevor glanced over at the man responsible for bringing them back. “How is it coming along, Greyson?”

  Greyson glanced away from the golden cage he and three other men guided onto the slightly larger plinth designed for it to stand on. “As soon as the cage is in place, the men will attach the unveiling curtain around the sarcophagus. Ten minutes should do it, and then you can start letting them in.”

  Trevor nodded contentedly and smiled at Mary Nickels who was keeping a careful eye on everything. “You two have done an amazing job. The atmosphere you’ve managed to create throughout the exhibition is stunning. I never would have thought of using flickering lights to create the effect of the flaming torches and lamps the Maya would have used.”

  “You have Kramer to thank for that,” said Greyson. “It was how he first revealed the artifacts to me in the temple. Did you manage to contact him?”

  “Eventually, but he declined the offer to attend. He said he is too busy exploring the city to leave.”

  Greyson smiled and nodded knowingly. “That sounds like Kramer. He hates publicity.”

  “You’ve done him proud, though, for including his story of the discovery in the exhibition,” said Trevor.

  “As much as I would have liked to claim the glory of the discovery for myself,” Greyson admitted, “Kramer deserves the recognition after most of us laughed at his claim that he believed he knew where a lost Maya city was located. I’m glad he proved us wrong.”

  “As am I. His discovery won’t be forgotten as it’s part of history now.” Trevor glanced around the room. Satisfied everything was in order, he said, “I had better get back to the party and prepare them for what they are about to see.”

  Greyson had already turned back to the cage and helped guide it onto the plinth. When it was in position, he glanced at the sarcophagus and remembered the monster it once contained. He wondered what would have happened if it had escaped on the mainland; it would have had the whole of England to feed on and would have been a lot harder to catch. Perhaps it had been for the best the stowaway had set it free on the boat, a confined environment impossible to escape from.

  After Mary had walked the circumference of the golden cage to ensure all sides were an equal distance away from the edges of the plinth, she approached the workmen. “You can hang the curtain now.”

  “And then you can call it a night,” added Greyson. “You have all earned a rest, and I’ll make sure you each receive a bonus for your hard work and long hours spent making mine and Mary’s ideas even more spectacular.”

  “Thanks, sir, it’s appreciated and a pleasure,” said Fingus.

  “Good luck with the exhibition, sir,” said Peters. “And thanks for the tickets. My wife and kids can’t wait to see it next week.”

  “You are welcome, Tommy, as are the rest of you.” Greyson turned to Mary. “We had better go get dressed up and meet our honored guests.”

  Greyson and Mary walked back through the exhibit rooms and exited through a staff only door to a corridor that led to the back rooms and offices.

  *****

  Greyson entered the atrium buzzing with excitement. He smiled at Mary scoffing down a few hors d'oeuvres and joined Trevor on the small podium set to the side of the exhibition entrance as he called the guests to silence.

  “First of all,” said Trevor, enjoying the focus of attention. “Let me thank you all for coming and for your years of continued support for this prodigious museum. I have been handling ancient artifacts for many years, and I’ve viewed with my own eyes many spectacular discoveries around the world. However, what you are about to see far surpasses anything else I have seen. As you all know from our press announcements and newspaper stories, Doctor Kramer discovered a lost Maya city in a remote area of the Amazon jungle where it should not have been. Not only does this reveal the depth of dedication Doctor Kramer has shown toward his profession, even when others have been less than enthusiastic toward his theories, but also his amazing ability to track down and follow the vague historical clues that led to its discovery.”

  Trevor paused and placed a hand on Greyson’s shoulder.

  “When my esteemed colleague, Doctor Greyson Bradshaw, traveled the long and torturous journey to view the lost city for himself, our two finest archeologists joined forces and discovered secret chambers beneath the city’s temple floor. This is where many of the artifacts and, of course, the hoard of fabulous treasure, was located.”

  Trevor glanced at the mayor waiting to cut the ribbon and signal the exhibition open.

  “Mr. Mayor, if you will do us the honor?”

  The mayor smiled at Trevor. “I will be glad to.” He placed the blades of the over-large scissors over the ribbon and looked at the surrounding crowd. “I declare this Maya exhibition open.” The ribbon was sliced through and parted.

  Greyson and Trevor moved to the double doors, pushed them open and entered. Their expectant guests flowed through the entrance.

  The excited crowd followed Greyson and Trevor through the exhibits and paused briefly each time Greyson explained the circumstances of their discovery and details pertaining to each artifact.

  Though some grimaced at the sight of the naturally mummified bodies displayed in their temperature and atmosphere controlled glass coffins, all were fascinated by what they
heard. The recreated rooms and the ambient lighting added an extra dimension to each object they viewed. The guests were open-mouthed in awe when Greyson led them into the chamber containing the Maya warriors frozen in the act of jabbing gold-tipped spears at the monster statue no one except for museum staff had seen. Even with the gruesome reports of the monster’s horrific killing spree aboard the Amazongas, many still found it hard to believe such a monstrosity had existed, yet alone could have survived for hundreds of years sealed in a stone coffin, but the known facts proved both were true.

  Greyson answered the expected questions about the monster and his battle with it aboard the ship that resulted in its death, something everyone present was thankful for. The statue of the expertly detailed monster was so lifelike and frightening none of them cared to come face-to-face with the real thing as Greyson and those aboard the ship had done.

  Greyson continued fielding questions as he led his enthralled audience ever nearer to the final exhibit.

  CHAPTER 14

  It’s Alive!

  The regenerative abilities of the creature’s severed limb had been working non-stop since it had been imprisoned inside the sarcophagus. Though it wasn’t yet as formidable or intelligent as the creature it had been parted from, it would grow and learn quickly. Its basic instincts, which were currently driven by ravenous hunger, were primarily focused on escape and the hunt for food. When its clawed hands surveyed its surroundings and found only hard surfaces, it brought back memories of its long imprisonment, something it had no wish to endure again. It placed its hands on the obstruction above and pushed. A sliver of dim light briefly pierced the interior before the weight drove the stone back in place. Encouraged by the glimpse of light, the creature shifted onto its knees and pressed its shoulders against the obstruction.