She was curious about the way this helmet worked. But she had more pressing matters for the time being. "Let's get into the subject." She straightened her back. "What do you want from us?"
"You must be tired like them." He gestured toward her team members. Most of them were still lying or sitting on the ground.
"I'm fine." She ignored his gentle offer. "Please, answer my question."
"You never thanked us," said Tolarus, his faint smile still on his face. "Though I lost more men than you did to save you and your crew."
"Which makes me wonder why you and your men would risk your lives so bad," she countered. Not out of nobility, I bet.
Tolarus seemed to be weighing his next words. "Alright then. In brief, we are trapped on this island with those humanoids, so actually, we need your help."
"Our help." That reminded her. "You're the ones who wrote 'Help us' on the island shore."
Tolarus's eyes widened. "Did you finally see it?"
Heather nodded. "One of us did." Upon referring to Burke, she felt a bit guilty for leaving him behind with the humanoids.
"It was a desperate attempt to draw the attention of the outer world. It's amazing how our simplest initiative worked better than the more sophisticated ones."
Heather was about to ask him about the third language they used to write "Help us," but the last three words he uttered struck her. "More sophisticated ones?" she echoed doubtfully. "What else have you done to draw the attention of the outer world?"
The Atlantean looked down as he bit his lower lip. He said too much, she thought. "What else have you done, Tolarus?"
"Look, Heather." Tolarus sighed. "For centuries, we have been chased by those humanoid beasts. They got us cornered here in this mountainous area so that we wouldn't dare to wander outside unarmed. Otherwise, they will hunt us alive. Even here, it's not totally safe. Sometimes, they breach our defenses and we find them here in the middle of our settlement. Eventually, we have been living in those mountains, because defending ourselves there proved to be a bit easier—"
"What else have you done?" Heather cut him off.
Tolarus exhaled. "The Griseos had surrounded the island with an invincible defense system, making the idea of fleeing Domus impossible. The very system that must have swallowed you into this island."
"Are you talking about the storm and the raging ocean?"
"Yes." He nodded. "In the beginning, our ancestors in Atlantis devised that technology to generate energy from stimulated water currents, but those humanoids developed it into something else. Many of us tried their luck to escape, but their attempts were deterred by the Griseos' Storm Shield. And of course, those humanoid cannibals saved the escapees from drowning."
"Cannibals?" The word struck Heather. "Is this a. . . figure of speech?"
"I thought you knew already." Tolarus raised his eyebrows. "That humanoid race feeds on the energy of our bodies. That's why they will never let us perish here on this island. We are here like a big herd of cattle for them."
Cattle? What about Akmenios's hollow speech about the peaceful coexistence with primitive hostile humans? Oh my God! Burke! "They still have one of our friends. Does that mean he has become. . . ?" Yes, say it, Heather: Food for those gray-faced monsters. And you left him behind.
"I'm sorry about your friend." Tolarus pressed his lips together, heaving a deep sigh. "We all lost friends because of those bastards. That's why we changed our stance from defensive to offensive. Our assaults are not massive so far, yet they are painful for them."
"So, those humanoids have a weak point."
"Yes. They are gluttonous about energy," said Tolarus. "Their technology requires so much power, and currently we are targeting their energy reactors."
Their technology requires so much power? Was there anything about those humanoids Akmenios didn't lie about?
Heather closed her eyes and gestured to Tolarus to stop. He is evading the question. "For the third time, what else have you done?"
"A few months ago, we captured an old aircraft of yours during a big raid on one of the Griseos' warehouses. We were looking for their weapons in the first place, but that old aircraft was all that we found."
"An old craft?" A wild thought crossed Heather's mind. "Please, continue."
"It was totally frustrating for us to return home empty-handed, so we took the old aircraft, having no idea what to do with it until that idea came to us. We had many theories about the way the Storm Shield works, and we decided to use your old aircraft to test one of those theories. And it worked. Without a pilot, your aircraft did pass the Shield."
"And where did it go after passing the Shield?" Heather knew the answer already.
"Well, we faced a little problem. After the aircraft had gone past the Shield, we lost control of it."
"And it crashed into a jet carrying more than four hundred passengers," Heather growled. "You killed them all."
"It was an accident. . ." Tolarus didn't find more words to finish his statement.
"It was a disaster."
"You have no idea." Tolarus shook his head. "We faced so much trouble until we managed to know how to control that aircraft. And after all of that, we were not sure whether we could make it pass through the Storm Shield or not."
His excuses would never be enough to justify his people's recklessness. It was an accident. Her mind wasn't able to get over that phrase. That accident caused one of the worst plane crashes in the century.
"Wait a minute, Tolarus." Heather recalled what he had just said. "Why exactly did you send that old plane, I mean the aircraft? For testing the Shield? Or drawing the outer world's attention?"
"For both," he replied. "First, it was to test our theory about the Shield, and then we realized it might draw the attention of your world to us. But we really didn't mean to draw attention in that horrible way."
Heather gave his tanned face a studying look. He might be telling the truth, but she had no reason to take what he said for granted.
"Many planes and ships were trapped behind that Shield. What did you do for their passengers?"
"You won't like the answer. But you are the first ones we succeed in rescuing."
"We lost three friends in your successful rescue." Heather would rebuke him for eternity.
"Heather, please. If you really want to get out of this island, then you should stop bothering your mind and mine with what we can never change."
"That's what you and I are different at." Heather wondered if the device could transmit her firm voice tone. "We care about our beloved ones, Tolarus. But who can blame you anyway? After all these—"
"Interested in returning to your beloved ones back home?" he put in. "Because I know a way to get you out of here."
For once, someone interrupted her and she didn't feel offended. "Now you're talking."
Later, she might tell him she had no beloved ones waiting for her back home.
26. Run or Die
On a paved corridor midway up the northern mountain, Heather and her teammates stepped out of an aircraft that resembled a non-wheeled van. The mix of green and blue colors painted by the grassy terrain and snaky river was an eye-pleasant view from up here.
During the short aerial ride, Heather had briefed her mates on her conversation with Tolarus. All of them felt a bit conservative about Tolarus's story, except Powell, who seemed inclined much more than the rest of the crew toward the Atlantean's side.
"It's hard to tell whom we can trust after all we have been through so far," Daniel had said that a few minutes earlier.
Heather could not agree more; however, she had no better suggestions of allies at the moment. And seriously, she was in bad need of allies on this damned island.
The head device was in her hands, but Heather didn't need Nathaniel's help to understand Tolarus's simple gesture to follow him along the corridor, which seemed to run endlessly deep into the heart of the mountain.
"Too much walking today," Santino complained after
ten minutes of their march in the tunnel. "Now what?"
"He told me he needed our help," Heather replied. "I guess he is going to show us what kind of help he wants."
How different that sounded from Akmenios's proposal? Not much, she was afraid. At least, Tolarus and his people would not eat her and her crew. Would they? She shivered at the thought and brushed it off her mind.
The fenced end of the corridor, where Tolarus stopped, faced a huge man-made pit. Motioning them with his arm, he urged Heather and her fellows to hurry. Surprised by the sight, Heather gaped at the aircraft standing on the well-paved ground of that huge pit.
An Avenger TBM from the renowned Flight 19. Another one, Heather deduced
When her astonishment faded, Heather put on her head device, and the Atlantean did the same. Now was the time to know what help Tolarus wanted from them.
"You have the whole collection, don't you?" Heather wondered.
Tolarus chuckled. "Not really. The rest of the fleet is still at the Griseos' headquarters. We captured only two aircraft. One of them we have already lost."
Yes, in an accident that ended up with a heavy toll of dead people, Heather thought, but she had to skip that topic for the time being. What was done was done. "I presume you have a proposal." Heather allowed a faint smile, her arms folded. "I'm listening."
"The issue is so simple," said Tolarus. "We need to get this plane out of the island to tell the whole world we exist. All humans should send their armies to expel those aliens from the whole planet."
"What are you thinking of? Send a message to the world nations, asking for an invasion?"
"By humans? We're so welcome to such an invasion."
Heather found herself imagining aircraft carriers besieging the island, marines storming the underground headquarters, capturing Akmenios and his people. That would be an ideal scenario to end this quest.
But would they let the Atlanteans rule their island? A worse scenario popped in, involving Tolarus and his cannoneers defending their mountainous area against the US marines. . .
What are you thinking of now, Heather? She was back to reality. How was she concerned about such futuristic consequences while she had no idea how to get the hell out of this island in the first place?
"Have you gone somewhere?" Tolarus grinned.
"Not so far, actually." She allowed another smile, a wider one this time. "Tell me, how did you manage to get the plane, the old aircraft, past the Storm Shield?"
"As far as I understand, we provided the aircraft with an electromagnetic field that made it 'invisible' to the Shield system," said Tolarus. "It worked just fine, but the problem was about controlling the aircraft outside the Shield."
Heather weighed his words. "You need someone to fly this plane. Am I right?"
"Exactly." Tolarus nodded. "This plane, as you call it, is working just fine. But we are not sure we have the right men to steer such a craft in the air manually and reach a safe land. It's the only craft we have and we can't afford its loss this time."
Heather glanced at Powell before she turned back to Tolarus. "Let's assume we have the right men for this job, what are they supposed to do after they pass the Shield?"
"What was I just saying? Inform your world of our location."
"What if they can't locate this island after they leave? Those aliens have manipulated our satellites, making your island invisible."
"We have taken that into consideration, don't worry. All we need is someone to fly this plane to the right place."
Could this be true? Suddenly, escaping this island became possible.
"When will you be ready?" Heather couldn't wait to see this happen.
"We are indeed. When will you?"
Heather resisted a strong desire to embrace the Atlantean. "Let me have a little talk with my crew."
* * *
For the second time, Heather briefed her team on a conversation she had had with Tolarus. All eyes were on Powell after Heather had finished. He was the man of the hour, the man who would decide their fate on this island.
"I can do this." Powell straightened his back. "I just need to have a close look to check the engine, fuel, weaponry, and radar."
Heather glanced at Tolarus, who stood aside silently, unable to understand their conversation. "There will be no problem with that."
"So, if I get this right," Linda slowly said. "Powell is going to take the plane out of this island and return home to report everything going here to the US authorities."
"That's right." Heather nodded to Linda then turned to the rest. "Any more queries?"
"Yes." Linda cleared her throat. "How many of us will accompany Powell on this flight?"
The question struck all the crew except Powell, who had no problem with this issue of course. Heather wondered how she didn't think about that. When she shot Powell an inquisitive look, he said, "This bomber can take two passengers in addition to the pilot. It's up to you to decide."
They all looked at each other, each waiting for the other to speak first.
"I'll stay. Anybody else?" Heather gazed at the rest of her team. "Except you. You're not allowed to leave without me," she said to Nathaniel who was surely unhappy with that.
An awkward silence reigned over the place. It was clear everybody was eager to reserve one of the two remaining tickets on the next flight, yet each one of them seemed embarrassed to speak first.
"Okay, let's all be transparent," said Daniel. "We are all dying to leave the damned Triangle, right?"
Looking down, Linda, Susan, Santino, Walter, and Jay nodded silently.
"Fine," Daniel said impassively. "We will make a draw unless we agree on those two who are going to join Powell."
Heather didn't like the notion of splitting the team. But wasting those two precious chances of salvation wouldn't make any sense.
She knew for sure that Linda and Santino, the newlyweds, wouldn't leave unless they did it together. As for Daniel, she didn't want him to leave her alone in this situation. At moments of panic, he was the only one in her team who could keep his composure and think logically, yet she wouldn't force him to stay if he didn't want to. Most probably, it would be two of those three: Susan, Walter, and. . .
Suddenly, an alarming siren rang in the whole place.
"What the hell is going on?" Heather bellowed at Nathaniel, who in turn translated her question to Tolarus. The Atlantean, who wasn't wearing the head device, answered Nathaniel.
"A humanoid breach," Nathaniel told her.
"Oh no! Not again!" While she had a faint hope she might forget those gray faces, they insisted on following her and her crew. "What is the extent of this breach? Are they sending their—"
Heather was interrupted by a huge explosion, which literally shook the mountain. The floor of the paved corridor rocked and sand started to fall down from the ceiling. The Atlantean was panicked as he waved to them, crying in his language.
"We must run away from here!" Nathaniel hollered, and indeed, it was quite a distance to dash through. But what options did they have in the middle of falling stones?
All team members sprinted through the corridor. A second louder explosion almost deafened Heather's ears, the earthquake more serious this time, cracking both the corridor floor and ceiling. The falling sand was getting heavier, forcing the fleeing crew to keep their heads down.
Please! Please! Please! Don't fall down now! Despite the sand flowing through the ceiling fissures, she couldn't help peeking upwards. That corridor would become a tomb at any instant.
Her pounding heart was almost torn apart, her legs failing her. Possibilities of reaching the end of this corridor before its collapse were diminishing every second.
"Come on, Heather!" Daniel firmly gripped her by the hand, urging her to move forward.
"I can't—" Heather gasped. Talking required an extra effort she couldn't afford at the moment.
"You can't slow down now!" Daniel cried. "We're almost there!"
His pu
ll earned her some momentum to resume her run. However, she was slowing him down. Oh my God! Linda! Amid the clamor, Heather recognized her scream and dared to glance back. Because of the floor cracks, Linda stumbled and fell on the floor, unnoticed by her teammates in this chaos.
"Linda has fallen!" Heather cried as she stopped and turned to her.
"I will get her." Walter, who was one step ahead of Heather and Daniel, returned to aid Linda to get up and pushed both Daniel and Heather forward with firm hands. "Go! Go! Go!"
"Come on, Heather!" Daniel hollered, almost dislocating her wrist to force her to run again.
A third explosion shook the corridor, the worst so far. The floor was cracking everywhere below their feet. Heather felt she was going to be swallowed into the heart of the mountain at any moment.
"Oh my God!" Heather almost lost her pulse when a massive rock fell just in front of her. Now, the faltering ceiling was not just pouring sand on their heads. The sight of falling rocks ahead made it obvious they didn't have much time remaining in this damned corridor.
A thunderous crackling banged behind her, mixed with horrifying screams that lasted only for a second. She feared to know what happened, but she couldn't help looking back. The terrifying scene froze her legs.
"Noooo!" Heather yelled, staring at the colossal rocks that buried both Walter and Linda.
"There is nothing we can do for them, Heather!" Daniel dragged her.
"No!" She punched Daniel in the shoulder and pulled her hand from his palm to check the rubble. "We can still get them out. Help me push these rocks!"
"Stop this nonsense, Heather!" Daniel grabbed her by the arm. "You are getting us all killed this way! Can't you see? The damned mountain is collapsing!"
No, she couldn't see. She couldn't stand the idea. Yesterday it was Kenji, Joshua, and Kenneth, today Linda and Walter. Again, she was losing members of her crew and again she was helpless.
"What the hell are you both doing?" Powell turned to them, falling rocks separating him from Heather and Daniel. "Get out of here!"
"Move your damned feet!" Daniel urged Heather. Resisting him wasn't her intention, but her cramped legs were not helping.
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