Relics

by K. T. Tomb

  “Let’s grab the nerd on the end. Move up on them quietly and wait until the others drop over that rise and then we’ll nab him.”

  The other two nodded their understanding of the plan.

  They crept forward into position, keeping their eyes on the leaders for any sign that they might look back or turn back. Carlo had been informed that it was the woman who was the most dangerous. She was not only a pretty good shot, but also had extraordinary skills in martial arts.

  They were very close to position when the first two in the group slipped over the short rise. Carlo and the others froze when the third member of the group suddenly decided to look back toward the nerd bringing up the rear. He paused for several seconds, looking back at the trailer, and Carlo was certain that they would miss their opportunity. It appeared like he was going to wait for him to catch up before going over the rise, but he called out to him to hurry up and strode forward and disappeared.

  They rushed forward, clamping a hand around his mouth and hauling him backward quickly. He was so slender and light that it took very little effort to carry him back down the trail a few dozen meters and then pull him off into the thick brush alongside the trail.

  Carlo gagged and bound their captive and then sent him back with one of the others with instructions to hold him on the boat until they got back. Then he and the remaining gang member continued on along the trail. With any luck, they might discover what the bunch was up to or even nab another one of them.

  ***

  Phoe had been striding along behind Peter, enjoying the cool breeze and shade of the trail leading through the thick foliage of the island.

  She hadn’t pushed too hard to keep up with Peter, but she had kept fairly close behind him. Eric was only a dozen or so strides behind her the last time she looked back, and Jonathan had disappeared from view. Old, familiar feelings of frustration about bringing the computer nerd along came rushing back. He was really better suited for work on the Internet and not very useful for hiking through the brush and other work outdoors.

  She decided to take a look back down the trail and see if she could get a sight of the two of them. Eric was a little further back than he had been before, but he was coming along. She called ahead.

  “Peter. Hold up a sec.”

  She saw Peter pause and turn to look back at her.

  “Let’s take a minute and let the other two catch up.”

  In just a couple of minutes, Eric was at her side.

  “Where’s Jonathan?”

  “He’s coming,” Eric replied. “He was falling behind a little when we came over that last rise. He’s not exactly the outdoorsy type.”

  “Let’s wait for him,” Phoe said. “He’s such a nerd that without a computer, he might get lost following a trail.”

  “I doubt it’s that bad; he’s just not used to this stuff. Hell, I’m a little out of shape myself. You and Peter go on. I’ll wait here for a few minutes. If he doesn’t show pretty soon, I’ll go back and drag his carcass up the trail.”

  “That’s not really funny, Eric.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’d feel like crap if something really happened to him and I’d been joking about it. You guys go on. The Fountain of Youth is just up ahead, I’m sure.”

  With some reluctance, Phoe turned away and caught up with Peter.

  “What’s the scoop?” Peter asked as she drew near.

  “Jonathan is just lagging behind. Not really used to this kind of stuff.”

  “Yeah, without a computer, he’s lost walking down the street.”

  “Eric’s going to wait for him and then catch up with us,” Phoe answered. Something was beginning to nag at her, but she dismissed it. They’d crossed several time zones and spent a good deal of time jetting halfway around the world in the past few days. It was all probably catching up to her.

  “I was hoping we might run across some sort of sign that Batista or anyone at all had been here by now. With a few weeks’ head start and probably at least a dozen rainstorms in that amount of time, there aren’t many signs that they’ve been along this way.”

  “Let’s carry on a little bit further and then we’ll wait for both of them to catch up.”

  “Sounds like a plan. You want to lead for a while?”

  It was totally unlike Peter to turn over the reins and she wondered if he was feeling poorly. “You sick or something?” She eyed him suspiciously.

  “No, why?”

  “You never voluntarily let me lead.”

  “Sure I do.”

  “When?”

  Peter thought for a minute. “I can’t think of any right now, but lots of times.”

  “Yeah, sure,” she replied, taking advantage of the situation and starting along the trail.

  She crossed over a rise with Peter close behind and then paused. Was that running water? Was there a stream? “Peter, listen.”

  “Sounds like a stream.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “Cool. It will make a great place to wait for Jonathan and Eric.”

  “Yeah, let’s go.” She strode forward with a lighter step, anxious to get a sip of the cool water or a freshwater stream and a moment to rest and clear her head. As the sound of the flowing water drew near, she heard rustling up ahead in the brush and froze. She turned toward Peter and raised her index finger to her lips. He froze with her and they watched the brush on both sides of the trail near the stream.

  There were no more sounds and she had seen nothing, so she started on again. Just as she did so, she caught a glimpse of a child up ahead near the stream wobbling back and forth as he tried to run away from them.

  Did she really just see a child? She turned back toward Peter. Her brow was wrinkled with the question. He nodded a response. He had seen the child, too.

  ***

  Carlo could hardly believe his luck.

  The first had been so easy to nab from the back of the pack; something that Mr. Imperioli would be quite pleased about. However, when he saw the one who had been third in the pack wandering back toward them, he wondered if he’d sailed under a lucky star. He motioned the man with him to conceal himself on the opposite side of the trail.

  Their quarry very easily and unknowingly walked right between the two without even noticing them. Once he was beyond them a stride or two, they both sprang at once. Carlo wrapped one arm around his throat and placed his other hand over his mouth while his partner slipped the barrel of a pistol into his ribs.

  “If you want to live, you’ll stay quiet.”

  The American froze. There was little chance of accomplishing an escape with a pistol barrel pushed into the ribs.

  “Now, we’re going to walk real calm and quiet back down this little trail a ways and then I’m going to put a gag in your mouth so you won’t get tempted to yell. Better for both of us that way, don’t you think?”

  Their captive nodded his head.

  “Good. Let’s move.”

  Once they were on the other side of the small rise, Carlo placed the gag in their captive’s mouth and then tied his hands.

  “We’re going to go quietly back down this trail. We’re going to get on a boat and we’re going to take you someplace nice where we can ask you and your other little buddy some questions. Got it?”

  The captive nodded.

  “Good. If you’re both cooperative, you just might live through this.”

  They followed the trail until they came to the place where the brush beside the trail had been trampled down by at least seven people coming in and two going out. It was as clearly marked after having so much of the thick brush laid flat. The boat captain had already been very well trained to use a pistol and helped look after the first captive. Now, he looked on without concern when the other two appeared with a second.

  “Pull out into the water a ways,” Carlo ordered. “Is there a good place for cell phone service?”

  “I think I can find you a good place,” the boat captain repl
ied.

  “Good, take me there. I want to make a phone call.”

  When the boat captain reached a certain point and began to slow, Carlo swirled his finger on the screen of his phone to unlock the screen. His phone had full service.

  “Right here is good.”

  The captain killed the engine and waited.

  Carlo dialed the number and waited. As soon as he heard Mr. Imperioli’s voice, he started to speak.

  “We have two captives.”

  “Very good, Carlo,” Lucas replied. “What about the others?”

  “I left a man to watch the hotel and the child. The other two are still on the island.”

  “I see. I hate to have them out of sight for too long. We need to know what the other two are up to and if we can, grab them too.”

  “I think we can manage that. I’ll get someone to come meet us and take these two to where we can keep them out of sight and take a couple others with me to grab the other two.”

  “Great. Keep me in the loop.”

  “Yes, si—” His response was cut off as Lucas hung up the phone.

  He made another call and within twenty minutes, another boat arrived with five men aboard. They moved the two captives over to the second boat and then two of the men joined Carlo and his original crew on the first. Thirty minutes after he had spoken to his boss, Carlo and four more gang members were starting back through the brush toward the trail.

  Chapter Eight

  During the early Middle Ages, the story of the fountain became entangled with Alexander the Great in the Alexander romance, where Alexander and his servant search for the fountain of youth:

  “After passing through a land that was so hot that they were burnt by their saddles, they entered another land, which was full of beautiful flowers and green meadows, and there was the dear fountain of sweet water that rejuvenated four times a day. The old warriors entered the fountain; more than forty-six bathed in it and when they came out they were age thirty and like the best knights.”

  Alexander’s servant in these tales came from Middle East legends about the sage Al-Khidr. Although the story did not reach European literature until around 1200, these tales were popular throughout the Islamic world, including Moorish Spain, so they were probably known to most early Spanish explorers. —The History of the Fountain of Youth

  ***

  Phoe and Peter forgot all about Eric and Jonathan when they saw the first child. As they moved in closer, the child ran into the brush and continued up the trail in front of them. Keeping a sharp eye out for the child’s parents, Peter and Phoe followed him.

  The foliage around them began to change. Rather than jungle, there was a surprising number of small fruit trees and berry bushes on either side of the stream, as well as other larger trees a bit further away. The trees and bushes were not much taller than waist high, but they seemed to be fully mature and bearing fruit.

  “This is rather odd,” Phoe whispered quietly to Peter. “Have you ever seen anything like it?”

  “I was about to ask you the same question.”

  “I’m beginning to get a hunch about all of this.”

  Phoe thought about Angelo. He had all of the attributes of a more mature adult, but was trapped in the body of a toddler. The trees around them also had the attributes of mature trees, but were miniature as well. Could it be that they were walking next to the stream which flowed out of the actual Fountain of Youth? Did Angelo drink from the stream and become the miniature version of the adult, just like the trees around them had become miniatures? If so, then the child they were following was likely one of Angelo’s team, or another unlucky person who had partaken of the water.

  “Care to share it with me?” Peter asked, thinking Phoe’s comment would be followed by an explanation.

  “If I’m right, it’s all going to become pretty obvious in a few minutes.”

  It wasn’t long before they broke into a clearing where the water from the spring was bubbling up through rocks of such a brilliant array of colors that it hurt the eyes to look at it at first. The crystal clear water flowed out from the rocks in such an enticing way that Phoe and Peter’s eyes were immediately drawn to it and their throats were suddenly very parched, though they had both taken a satisfying drink from their canteens only a few moments before.

  The fruit trees and berry bushes were in abundance in and around the bubbling spring, but they were not the only thing in abundance. Skittering about among the trees and bushes were more than a dozen toddlers about the same age as Angelo.

  Phoe noticed that Peter was eyeing the spring with a faraway stare and she put a hand on his chest. “No! Peter, snap out of it. Don’t drink the water.”

  “Huh? What?” He acted as though he had just been awakened out of a trance.

  “Don’t drink the water.”

  “What do you mean? It’s just water.”

  “No, it’s not just water. Remember when I told you that I had a strange feeling about Angelo?”

  “Yeah, you said that you thought he had all of the attributes of an adult, but trapped in a child’s body or at least something like that.”

  “Don’t you get it, Peter? This is the Fountain of Youth. Angelo drank from this water. Our little Angelo is actually Angelo Batista. All of these chi—men—drank from this water and now they are in a perpetual state of childhood, just like Angelo.”

  “You’re right, Phoe,” Peter whistled. “But how are they staying alive?”

  “Look at the trees and bushes around us. Fruits, nuts and berries and all within reach of a child…” She shook her head. “I’ve got to quit calling them that. They’re really not children.”

  “Oh my God, Phoe. I don’t want you to be right, but I think you’re onto something.”

  Phoe sank down to one knee and tried to coax one of the toddlers over to her. “Come here.” It was hard not to use the voice that one used in order to get the attention of a child, even though she was likely addressing a man older than herself. The large, dark eyes of the child watched her warily, as did those of the others.

  “I won’t hurt you. Come on.” She extended her arms and motioned to the child. After some moments, the child came to her. When she checked him over thoroughly, she realized that she had seen him before. He was one of Batista’s team. She looked up at Peter with an odd expression on her face. This was one time that she hated to be right.

  Once the children saw that the two adults would do them no harm, they became bolder. Within moments, they were surrounded by the pint-sized men. Phoe detected a mixture of Spanish, French and Italian being spoken among them and was instantly certain that they were surrounded not only by Batista’s men, but others who had happened upon the spring and were enticed to take a drink as well.

  “It might not be a bad idea to get a sample of this water to have it tested,” Peter suggested. He emptied his canteen and hesitated before dipping it into the spring.

  “I hope that just touching the water doesn’t turn you into a child.”

  “Well, there’s only one way to find out. I hope there is a way to reverse this.” Peter cautiously dipped the canteen into the water, allowed it to gurgle until the bubbles stopped and then drew it out and screwed on the cap.

  “This is so odd,” she commented, turning away from the stream and back toward the children. “They are children in so many ways, but in their eyes and mannerisms, they are men.”

  “Do you think they remember anything about their adult existence?” Peter asked. He stood, frozen in place, holding the canteen. Phoe could tell by the look on his face that he was still waiting for the transformation to come over him.

  “Angelo didn’t.” She paused for a moment. “Although, he did warn me about those men who tried to capture us in Venice. So, they must retain a certain amount of some sort of memory.” Her head was beginning to swim with the overwhelming amount of data that it was trying to process and the multiple theories that were rushing through it.

  “That
’s why a Tibetan Monk would bow to a child.”

  “What?”

  “Remember? Monk Kamal bowed to Angelo. I pointed out that it was rather odd after we left the temple.”

  “So, he knew that Angelo was Angelo?” She put emphasis on the second Angelo to distinguish adult Angelo from miniature Angelo. It was all beginning to give her a headache. “If he knew, why didn’t he say anything?”

  “Phoe, I don’t think you want to start going down that road. Knowing what is going on in the mind of a Tibetan Monk might be more than you want to explore.”

  Phoe suddenly remembered Eric and Jonathan. “Shit!” She set the toddler down and started running back down the trail.

  “What’s wrong?” Peter asked, sprinting after her.

  “We’ve got to warn Eric and Jonathan. If they drink from the stream—”

  Peter didn’t need to hear any more. He understood fully and passed her. The sudden realization of what would happen to their two lost comrades if they stumbled upon the stream as they trailed along behind them had hit her suddenly.

  She saw Peter go down in front of her and looked down to see what he had tripped over, but it was too late. In the same instant that the tripwire registered, she was tumbling through the air and colliding into her flattened companion. Before either of them could react, several men were upon them and had their hands tied behind their backs.

  They were lifted to their feet and their weapons were stripped from them. They were the captives of four men who turned them toward the trail leading away from the Fountain. At least Phoe could relax in the fact that they wouldn’t be able to harm the children/men. She and Peter would have to figure out a way out of this predicament, however, if they were going to figure out how to help those children/men or keep others from discovering the fountain. Her thoughts were interrupted when she and Peter were presented to the fifth man, who appeared on the trail in front of them.