by Alan Baxter
“We’re looking for my sister,” Rose said. “Her name is Lily, but sometimes she goes by the name Iris.” She held out a photo for Shepherd to see.
The old man scratched his chin. “I remember. Lord, you look a lot alike. I talked to her just a couple of days ago. She wanted to know all about the Lost City.”
Chapter 38
Guano Point, Grand Canyon
Crowley and Rose enjoyed the sights for a couple of hours until Shepherd was able to take an early lunch break. He said he’d be happy to chat with them in exchange for a free lunch at Guano Point.
Crowley had looked into that while they waited and discovered a strange history. In the 1930s, a boater passing on the Colorado River far below in the bottom of the canyon had discovered a guano cave. For the next twenty years unsuccessful attempts were made to mine the nitrogen-rich guano for fertilizer. Then, much to Crowley’s amazement at the existence of such a body, the U.S. Guano Corporation heard there was more than one hundred thousand tons of guano in the cave, so they bought the property. They spent $3.5 million to construct a tramway system to extract valuable bat waste. An aerial tramway was built from the mine to what was now known as Guano Point, with the cable head-house built on land leased by the Hualapai Tribe. The cableway then crossed the river, a distance of 7,500 feet, some 2,500 feet high.
But by 1959, in a bit of bad luck for the U.S. Guano Corporation, all the cave’s resources had been exhausted. The original prediction of one hundred thousand tons turned out to be closer to one thousand tons. And the bad luck was compounded when, shortly after this discovery, a U.S. Air Force fighter jet crashed into the overhead cable system and permanently disabled it.
An intricate leaning structure of wooden beams, mostly the cable head-house, remained in place as a monument to the entire endeavor and Guano Point got its name and subsequently became a tourist attraction with the Guano Deli, where visitors were exhorted to “dine on the edge of the canyon.”
Once Shepherd’s relief arrived and took over the ticket sales at the Skywalk, the old man led Crowley and Rose to a battered old Jeep and drove them out to Guano Point, which wasn’t far away.
Crowley bought everyone barbecue chicken and they sat at an outside picnic table watching a trickle of tourists make their way along the narrow trail atop the steep dropoff and up onto the Guano Point overlook. An eagle, its wide wingspan black against the orange and tan canyon sides, wheeled past far below, but still high above the canyon floor and the shining brown ribbon of the Colorado River snaking through.
“Quite a history to this place,” Shepherd said as he sucked chicken meat off the bone. Crowley thought the old man looked a little like a plucked chicken himself, all skinny, wiry limbs and sharp movements.
“We read all about it,” Rose said. “Amazing really.”
The old man chewed slowly and thoughtfully. “I was here, you know. When the mine was still operating. Only a kid, of course.”
Crowley smiled, wondering what changes the man might have seen in his life. Probably not always for the better. “So what can you tell us about the lost Egyptian City? It seems a strange thing to even suggest here.”
Shepherd chuckled. “Don’t it just?” He sniffed, took another bite of chicken then nodded, almost to himself. His voice took on the lilt and musical tones of an inveterate storyteller. “It started in 1909. A front page article in the Phoenix Gazette told of an expedition sponsored by the Smithsonian Institute. That expedition uncovered a vault filled with Egyptian artifacts.”
“That’s kind of my business,” Rose said. “But I’ve never heard of it.”
Shepherd gave her a crooked smile. “Few have. It’s the stuff of conspiracy theorists now. The Smithsonian denies that any authentic Egyptian artifacts have been found anywhere in North America. Some claim it’s a cover-up.”
“Why would they do that?” Rose asked.
Shepherd shrugged. “I don’t know, but I have a theory. The scientific community is slow to change. If you make a discovery that’s too far out of the norm, you’re ridiculed, even blackballed. The Smithsonian might not have wanted to subject itself to that, especially a hundred years ago, when its reputation wasn’t as well-established as it is now.”
“Well, I can agree with most of that,” Rose said thoughtfully.
“The other possibility is they discovered something they didn’t understand, or something they thought needed to be kept a secret.” Shepherd gave them another grin before tearing into another chicken leg. “That’s my favorite theory,” he said around the meat in his cheek.
Crowley was skeptical, but decided to play along. He was becoming used to how pointless his skepticism often turned out to be. “How did they find it?” he asked.
“Well, the story goes that a man named Kinkaid discovered it.”
A jolt passed through Crowley as he recognized the name as the same one Lily had inquired about. He glanced at Rose and the look on her face said she’d thought the same thing. It was the first solid connection between all these wild loose ends they were trying to round up.
“Kincaid, eh?” Crowley said, trying to prompt Shepherd to reveal more if he knew it.
The old man’s voice slipped into storyteller tones again. “Yep. G E. Kincaid. He was traveling alone down the Colorado River, prospecting for minerals. In a remote area, he spotted, from a great distance away, unusual stain patterns in the sedimentary formations of the wall, nearly two thousand feet above the river bed. When he reached the area, he found a series of steps that started just above what was then the level of the river. They ran about thirty yards to a rock shelf and beyond it, a cave. He noticed chisel marks and decided to explore. He saw enough to know he was on to something big. He took a few artifacts, made his way back to civilization, and contacted the Smithsonian.”
“So, what did they find?” Rose asked.
“The story goes that an expedition led by a Professor Jordan of the Smithsonian went with Kincaid back to the site he’d found. And in there they discovered a whole underground city. The cave, which couldn’t be seen from above or below due to the shape of the canyon wall, led back to a massive main chamber, with passageways radiating out from it all around. I could sketch it for you.”
Rose dug in her bag and produced her notebook and pencil. Shepherd hunched over the page, holding the pencil in a strange overhand grip, his face close to the paper, tongue playing at the corner of his mouth. When he sat back, they saw he had drawn the river, with a passage leading into the rock, a cross-passage at right-angles, then the passage led on to a large circular room with thirteen more corridors evenly spaced around it.
“It looks like a sunburst,” Rose said.
“It does,” Shepherd agreed. “Apparently, the Smithsonian found loads of rooms inside. Storerooms, armories, granaries, a dining hall, crypts holding rows of mummies. An entire small city of stuff.”
“That’s crazy,” Rose said.
Crowley had to agree with her. How could even the Smithsonian keep something like that quiet for all this time?
“That’s not even the craziest part,” Shepherd said, his grin back in place. He clearly enjoyed spinning these yarns and Crowley had to wonder how much the wily old guy was playing them, winding them up for a free lunch and some entertaining sport.
“It gets crazier?” Rose asked, eyebrows high.
“Outside of one chamber they found a series of hieroglyphs they’d never seen before. Inside, the air was strange. It had what Kinkaid called a ‘snaky smell.’ He claimed their lights wouldn’t penetrate the blackness. It was as if the air had substance.” Shepherd sat back, quietly sucking on a chicken bone as he watched them take in that strange and hard to believe tidbit. Before Crowley could draw breath to challenge it, Shepherd pointed the cleaned bone at Rose and said, “Your sister was really interested in that, for some reason.”
Rose said nothing, only nodded thoughtfully. Crowley watched her instead of Shepherd, realized something in that last bit had affec
ted her quite deeply. Maybe some connection she had drawn between the old man’s story and Lily’s quest for something beyond death. The Stygian blackness Shepherd had described had all the hallmarks of something supernatural enough.
Shepherd sniffed again, sat forward to take more chicken. The man had the appetite of a teenager. “Anyway,” he said around a mouthful. “One of their researchers died trying to explore that room.”
“How?” Crowley asked.
“Don’t know. Went in and never came out again, I think. They sealed it up.”
They sat in silence for a moment, then Crowley shook his head. “No offense, but do you honestly think this could be in any way real? Any of what you’ve told us?”
Shepherd considered, lips pursed, before finally replying. “Yes. I do. Considering the sheer size of the canyon, plus the inaccessibility of most of it, it’s not at all unreasonable to believe there are systems of caves and passageways that have gone undiscovered. And don’t forget that Kinkaid emphasized that the cave was impossible to spot from above or below.”
“Don’t people take helicopter tours through the canyon?” Rose asked.
Crowley nodded, pleased with her thinking. He hadn’t thought of that.
“Parts of it,” Shepherd said. “But not everywhere. And there’s a limit to how far down they’re willing to go. So many of the gorges are narrow, and the winds strong and unpredictable. It’s not safe. And not only that, but large parts of the canyon are off-limits, even to park staff. Claims of unsafe caves and dangerous waterways. There are a lot of areas, big areas, that no one is allowed near. Can it really be that dangerous compared to other parts?”
“Well, it could,” Crowley said.
Shepherd smiled. “It could, sure. But I don’t think it is.”
“Is it possible that Kinkaid misidentified it?” Rose asked. “Maybe it was an Anasazi cliff dwelling, something like that?”
Shepherd shook his head. “You know your stuff. But no, it’s unlikely. The Anasazi built beneath overhangs, but they didn’t live in caves or tunnel into the stone. And Kinkaid specifically mentions finding bronze age weapons inside, in pristine condition.” The old man’s eyes narrowed and he looked around, lowered his voice. Crowley thought it a bit melodramatic considering no one was paying them any attention.
“There is a part of the canyon,” Shepherd whispered, “where the prominent features are given Egyptian names. The Tower of Set, Tower of Ra, Horus Temple, Osiris Temple, Isis Temple. And, what’s more, this is a huge area, and it’s one of the forbidden zones I was just talking about. One of the ones even off-limits to park personnel. You ask me, I think there’s something there the government, or somebody, wants to hide.”
Rose took a long slow breath, thinking. Crowley couldn’t decide how much this old man really believed, and how much he enjoyed as drama. He obviously loved to tell a story, but how much was fiction?
“Do you have any theory as to where, exactly, the city is located?” Rose asked.
Shepherd sighed. “I’ve tried for years to figure it out. There are problems with minor parts of Kinkaid’s account. Maybe he got some names wrong, maybe he changed a few details to protect the location. But my money is on the Haunted Canyon region. That’s what I told your sister too.”
He let that sink in for a moment, then bobbed to his feet with surprising agility. “Anyway, I thank you kindly for the lunch and I hope I was of some assistance to you. But I must get back to work and I have an errand to run first. You can catch a shuttle back to your tour bus whenever you please, but have a look around here first. It’s quite a place.”
Crowley stood and shook the old man’s hand. “Thank you, we really appreciate your time.”
Rose shook his hand too, echoed Crowley’s sentiments. Shepherd smiled, and strolled away to his jeep.
They sat down and watched him, keeping quiet, then Crowley said, “Quite a story.”
“Especially that bit about the dark chamber where one of the party died. Or disappeared. My sister would definitely be interested in that.”
“Yeah, I think that could well be what Lily was looking for.”
“So what next?” Rose asked.
Crowley grinned. “Next stop, Haunted Canyon.”
Chapter 39
Luxor Hotel and Casino, Las Vegas
When they got back to the Luxor Hotel, Crowley rang Cameron.
“What’s up, buddy?”
Crowley smiled. “You sound chipper for… what time is it there anyway?”
“Time?” Cameron asked. “What even is it? I was hoping to hear from you again. I’m glad you haven’t been shot or anything. What do you need?”
“Well, your concern warms my heart. I need you to snoop through some conspiracy theories and crazy talk and see if you can root out any seeds of truth.”
Cameron groaned. “Oh, man. Information I can deal with, crazy talk is not my specialty.”
“But you’ll do it for me, right?”
“What is it?”
Crowley laughed at Cameron’s resigned tone and relayed the key points of Shepherd’s story. “So what it boils down to,” he concluded, “is that we need to know the most likely location of this actual Lost City, starting with the Haunted Canyon area Shepherd mentioned.”
“If it even exists.”
“Yeah, if it exists,” Crowley admitted. “I think there’s something to it, even if it’s been blown out of all proportion by the retellings of the story. I bet there’s something, even if it’s just some weird caves. We need to know and we need to go there.”
“Okay. Leave it with me. I’ll start digging.”
“You’re worth your weight in gold, Cam.”
Cameron laughed. “I’ll eat extra doughnuts in case I ever need to cash myself in.” He hung up without another word and Crowley smiled as he slipped his phone back into his pocket.
“We need to get back out there under our own steam,” Rose said. “We can’t have tour guides or park staff know that we’re snooping about.”
“True, but I’m too tired to drive through the night. Let’s get a good rest here and we can head off early tomorrow. Hopefully Cameron will come through with some directions by then.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. You think we’ll catch up with Lily in the Haunted Canyon?”
Crowley shrugged, shook his head. “No idea. But I do think we’re more likely to get some solid leads there than anywhere else we’ve looked so far. You want to head up to the room?”
Rose gave him a sidelong glance, seeming to measure his intent. He winced internally. If nothing had happened last night, drunk and footloose, it was unlikely that anything would happen now. But he wished she would talk to him. Something was eating at her and he wanted to help.
“I feel like moving around, not being cooped up,” she said.
“Okay. You want to wander through the casino?”
“Sure.”
As they walked, Crowley let his gaze roam over the grandiose décor. The Egyptian gods and architecture seemed foreboding now, oppressive. Not so much cheap and tacky, but as though they had a weight of intent. Maybe portent.
“I wonder why Lily decided to stay here,” he said.
“That’s an odd question,” Rose said. “Why not stay here?”
“Well, it’s not one of the nicer casinos. It’s at the south end of the strip, away from the action. If she was only interested in learning about the Lost City, why not stay in a more affordable hotel off the strip?”
Rose looked around, frowned. “That’s a good point, actually. But this one is very much her theme.”
“If she’s really that into Egypt, the real history, it seems to me she wouldn’t think staying here was cool.”
Rose considered that a moment. Eventually she said, “That’s true, I suppose. The Lily I know would probably roll her eyes at this décor. But who knows? Maybe she just wanted to have a bit of fun.”
“Although I wonder if there’s something more here.
Are there any Egypt-themed exhibits currently running?”
Rose shook her head. “Just the Human Body and the Titanic.”
Crowley stopped short, something tickling at his memory. His brow creased in thought.
“What is it?” Rose asked.
“The Titanic. It rings a bell.” He thought harder, then it came to him. “That’s right! I once heard a tale of a cursed mummy that brought death and disaster to everyone who possessed it as it made its way out of Egypt and on to England. Finally, an Egyptologist purchased it and arranged for it to be shipped to the States. On board...” He grinned at Rose.
“The Titanic?” she ventured. She gave him a mocking look. “Really? A cursed mummy sank the Titanic?”
Crowley grinned. “May I remind you that we’re currently on the hunt for a lost Egyptian city in the Grand Canyon?”
“Touché,” she replied.
“Maybe Lily knew about that legend and she stayed here to check it out more. Two birds and all that? Perhaps we should check it out, too.”
“Might as well,” Rose said. “We’ve nothing better to do.”
Crowley gave her a sly look, deciding to push his luck. “We had fun last night, even though I ended up on the floor after all. We could always, you know…”
Rose looked at him levelly, eyes slightly haunted. She opened her mouth, her expression like she was about to say something serious, then shook her head. “Not now, Jake.”
He wondered what she might have been about to say before she changed her mind. He sighed. “Okay then. But I wish you’d talk to me.”
“I will. But for now, let’s go.”
They headed over to the exhibits and paid their admission. Inside the Titanic exhibit were numerous artifacts from the sunken ship, in glass cases and on tables, each labeled with whatever details were deemed relevant. As they wandered through, signs and videos told the story of the ill-fated voyage. Letters and articles gave names and faces to the dead, the weight of history and humanity entangled. Crowley knew the story well, he’d taught aspects of it numerous times, but it was only when he saw the actual, physical articles that the history came off the page and into his heart. These were real people, this was a real event. It was too easy to think of history like stories, no more than a tale to be told. But that was the beauty of history. It happened, it shaped everything that came after. These people lived this story in every cold, wet detail.
