Cryptid Quest: A Supernatural Thriller (The John Decker Supernatural Thriller Series Book 8)

by Anthony M. Strong

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea,” Emma said. “I understand we need to find the missing film crew, but don’t you think we should exercise a little caution. After all, they could have climbed back up, but they didn’t. Whatever happened was so cataclysmic that it prevented even one of them from escaping. If we go down there too, we could end up trapped and unable to retreat just like them.”

  “We aren’t going down. At least, not tonight,” Decker said. He studied the land near the edge of the precipice. It looked flat and solid, with little sign of edge erosion. The trees were thinner here too. “We’ll set up camp right here at the top of the cliff. We should be safe from whatever befell the original film crew up here.”

  “I concur,” Ward said, nodding his agreement. “We occupy the high ground. Easily defensible against threats from that jungle down there and we leave ourselves a quick line of retreat should it become necessary.”

  “And the pyramid?” Rory asked, looking out over the dense and sprawling jungle below them.

  “Tomorrow morning I’ll lead an expedition down the cliff,” Decker said. “We’ll make reaching the pyramid our goal and look for survivors along the way. We know they descended down the cliff from here and what their objective was, so we’ll be retracing their steps.”

  “A risky plan, but probably our only reasonable option,” Ward said. “I try to avoid walking into unknown situations. But there’s nothing to be gained by staying put. We can’t learn anything from up here on top of the cliff. We have no means of assessing the situation remotely and no knowledge of the landscape ahead of us. There is only one viable way to get the answers we need and find those missing people.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Decker replied.

  Ward nodded. “According to the lidar data, the pyramid is less than five clicks from our current location so we should have no trouble hiking in and out during daylight.”

  “Excellent,” Henriksen said. “I know you said no cameras, but I’m hoping you will make an exception in this instance. That jungle down there is TV gold, and if we do find survivors, I want it all on film.”

  “You’re staying right here,” Decker said, looking at Henriksen and his production company colleague, Tristan Cook. “Both of you.”

  “Like hell we are.” Cook’s cheeks puffed out and his nostrils flared. “You have no authority over us.”

  “I thought we’d already gone over this once,” Decker said, wearily. “This is not a civilian expedition and I say no cameras. This is not up for debate.”

  Cook looked like an angry pufferfish. “You’re just going to leave us sitting up here while you have all the fun?”

  “If you call entering a hostile jungle and risking our lives fun, then that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” Decker glanced at Ward for help, but the stoic commander appeared content to let him take the flak. At least for now. “We have no idea what’s down there. I’m not risking civilians.”

  “What about those two?” Cook asked, waving a hand toward Emma and Rory. “I suppose you’re letting them go along, and they’re civilians.”

  “True. But they are also experienced operatives who know how to handle themselves. You people are not.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  “Really?” Decker raised an eyebrow. “Is that why your original production crew are unaccounted for and probably dead?”

  “Well…” Cook looked flummoxed. “That’s not… I mean…”

  Check mate.

  Decker resisted the urge to smile. “I rest my case.”

  30

  “We should set up camp.” Commander Ward glanced toward the wide expanse of sky soaring over the forest beyond the cliff, and a line of dark clouds that were gathering on the distant horizon. “We’ve only got a couple of hours’ good daylight left, and it looks like there’s a storm coming in. I don’t want to be caught in the open when it gets here.”

  “Me either,” Decker said. “If everyone pitches in, we can be finished in under an hour.”

  “Alright, people.” Ward fixed the group with steely eyes. “You heard the man. Let’s get this done.”

  The group jumped into action. Even Henriksen and Cook, who were clearly still mad, did their part. Soon tents were set up between the trees, and there was a fire pit ringed by small boulders gathered from the surrounding land. When the storm came, if it did, the fire pit would be useless, but until then they could beat back the approaching night and keep the upper jungle’s more mundane predators at bay.

  Afterward, with an hour of daylight left, and the storm clouds still sitting out on the eastern horizon, Emma approached Decker. “I’d like to look around if that’s okay with you. Explore a little along the cliff.”

  “I’d rather keep everyone together,” Decker replied. “At least for tonight.”

  “Please?” Emma stepped close to him. She looked up into his face. “Tomorrow we’ll be going down the cliff and hiking to the pyramid. I would be shocked if that structure is all that’s hiding in this jungle. There might not be another opportunity to explore up here. Why waste the last of the daylight?”

  Decker met Emma’s gaze, just for an instant. But then he looked away, uncomfortable with the way those deep blue eyes still made him feel. Not any current desire, but something else. A fleeting impression of what might have been if she hadn’t left. The ghost of emotions he’d thought long since put to rest. And memories too. The way those same eyes had looked up at him during the heights of passion and intimate moments that had become their shared, if distant, history. In the end he agreed to her request, mostly because he didn’t want to remember. He had another life now, and deep down, he sensed the threat his old flame posed to that life. But he wasn’t willing to let her go alone. “I’m coming too.”

  “Sure.” A faint smile played over Emma’s face, just for a second. “I’d like that.”

  “And we’re bringing a member of the Ghost Team.” That way, he wouldn’t have to be alone with her.

  Emma shrugged. “You’re the boss.”

  She turned—her long hair sweeping across hair shoulders as she did so—and started toward the edge of camp. “No time like the present.”

  They struck out toward the waterfall, following the cliff’s edge. Decker went first, with Emma in the middle, and a member of the Ghost Team bringing up the rear, his M4 semi-automatic at the ready. Decker didn’t think there were Cyclops or other such creatures prowling the clifftop, but there were still jaguars, boa constrictors, and other dangerous animals lurking in the gloom between the trees.

  They walked for twenty minutes, before Emma cried out. “Look. What’s that?” She pointed toward the tree line ahead and hurried forward.

  At first, Decker didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but then he spotted the object that had gotten her so excited. A shape that looked like a tall, flat-faced rock covered in foliage. It sat near the cliff edge, between two trees.

  As they drew closer, he realized it wasn’t a rock at all. At least not in a conventional sense. It was too angular and perfectly positioned, as if it had been carved and placed there deliberately.

  “This isn’t natural. I’m sure of it.” Emma ran forward and tugged the at vines and foliage, exposing the oddly shaped rock’s face. She looked at Decker, grinning. “Just as I suspected. There’s writing on here. Carvings.”

  “Let me see.” Decker stepped forward and helped remove the remaining forest growth clinging to the object.

  The rock wasn’t a rock at all. It was a six-foot-tall stele. An upright stone slab that had been set into the ground. It reminded Decker of an oversized gravestone except that the writing covering the surface wasn’t put there to commemorate some poor departed soul, he was sure. This was not a burial site. For one, the ground was much too hard given their location near the cliff—solid rock with only a thin layer of soil and detritus. Then there was the writing itself. Egyptian hieroglyphics.

  “This is incredible.” Emma could barely contain hersel
f. She reached out and ran a hand over the stela’s weathered surface. “It must have been here for millennia.”

  “Can you decipher it?” Decker asked, circling the rock. The hieroglyphics were only on one side, facing the jungle. The back was rough-hewn and unfinished, as if the long-dead stonemasons who carved it just chipped the granite slab out of bedrock and flattened only the surface they wished to write upon.

  “I think so.” Emma studied the stela, lips moving silently as her finger traced the three columns of glyphs from top to bottom and left to right. At length, she stepped back. “Fascinating.”

  “Well?” Decker asked impatiently. “What is it?”

  “A warning,” Emma said. “It’s an ancient warning.”

  “Would you care to be more specific?”

  “Sure. Keep in mind I might not get this perfect, but it will be close enough.” Emma started from the top again and moved downward, following the columns as she read. “To all who may come, be warned. Beyond this place lies the meeting of the two lands, where the beasts from the realm of the Gods are free. Take care all who enter here.”

  “The meeting of the two lands?” Decker repeated. “I wonder what that means?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Emma said. “She looked out over the jungle beyond the cliff. “Maybe we’ll find out tomorrow when we go to the pyramid.”

  The Ghost Team soldier had been loitering a few feet away, scanning the jungle warily. Now he tapped Decker on the shoulder. “Sir? The sun will be setting soon, and we don’t want to be out here after dark.” He pointed toward the horizon. The dark clouds were closer now. “Not to mention that storm. It’s still coming our way. We should go back.”

  “Sure.” Decker nodded. He looked at Emma. “You good?”

  “Hang on.” She took a compact digital camera from her pocket and snapped off a few pics. “I want to document this.”

  “Make it quick.” Decker folded his arms and waited.

  Emma stepped back and snapped a few more photographs from further back, then turned to him. “All done.”

  “Great.” Decker placed a steering hand on her back. “Let’s go.”

  31

  As darkness settled over the Amazon, they lit a fire and ate MRE’s for dinner. Afterward, Commander Ward assigned his men to guard duty while the rest of the group sat around the fire and discussed the following day’s plan.

  “I’d like to get to the pyramid as soon as possible,” Emma said, “after seeing that stela back there, and those hieroglyphics, who knows what we’ll find next. I can’t believe the Egyptians made it this far, especially since there’s no record of them making any transatlantic crossings. The Egyptians weren’t much of a seafaring nation for most of their history, especially during the Old Kingdom. They mostly used their ships to transport goods up and down the Nile River.”

  “What about Thutmose and Rameses?” Rory asked, as he sipped a mug of cocoa from his MRE pack. “They both understood the importance of a navy. Rameses used warships to his advantage in his conflict with an invading force called the Sea Peoples. They had already destroyed the Hittites and wanted Egypt’s wealth.”

  “That’s true,” Emma said, nodding. “But the Egyptian force was mainly composed of riverine vessels, which they used as platforms for their archers, whereas their opponents had what we would today call tall ships. In the confined space at the mouth of the River Nile, the more ponderous, larger craft of the Sea Peoples didn’t stand a chance. But that’s all a far cry from sending their ships across the Atlantic Ocean. Remember, these were single masted open vessels powered by up to forty oarsmen. They just weren’t built for that kind of journey.”

  “Which they clearly made,” Rory said. “I’m more interested in how they wound up here with the Greeks.”

  “I guess we’ll find out in the morning.”

  “Speaking of which,” Henriksen said, glancing toward Decker over the leaping flames. “Have you given any more thought to what we talked about earlier?”

  Decker took a swig of cocoa. “What did we talk about?”

  “You know.” Henriksen rubbed the back of his neck, then swatted at a mosquito. “About us coming with you tomorrow. I’m hoping you’ve changed your mind.”

  “I haven’t.” Decker met his gaze.

  “You’re looking at this the wrong way,” Cook said, chiming in. “What you seem to forget is that I’m a veteran explorer. This isn’t my first trip to the Amazon. I’m sure we can come to an arrangement. Allow me to accompany you and bring my camera. I’ll let you review the footage before we air it and veto anything you don’t like. Sound fair?”

  “I’d have to veto everything,” Decker said. “I don’t want myself or any of my team on film.”

  “Okay. How about a compromise. We’ll blur your faces. The network does it all the time on crime shows when they’re interviewing undercover guys or shy witnesses. We even blur other bits—if you know what I mean—on that series where they run around buck naked. It’s easy.”

  Decker shook his head.

  “But that’s not—” Cook stood up and glared at Decker.

  “I don’t want to hear it.” Decker cut him off. “I’m in charge of this expedition, and what I say, goes.”

  “I agree with Mister Decker,” Ward said. “We’re in hostile territory and already have one group of missing people. I won’t allow a pair of untrained civilians to walk blindly into danger.”

  “Which brings me to my next point,” Decker said. “This is not just a research trip. It’s also a rescue mission. Our priority is to find that film crew and bring home any survivors.”

  “And recover their footage.” This was Hugh Henriksen, the producer. “If you won’t let us come with, that’s the least you can do. We spent hundreds of thousands researching and filming this show. It’s imperative we have every single frame they shot. We can’t complete the season without it.”

  “Good to see you have your priorities straight.” Decker shot the producer a withering look. “Has it occurred to you that your on-air talent might be dead?”

  “Of course it has,” Henriksen snapped. “I pray that they’re still alive. But if they aren’t, why waste good publicity.”

  “You think anyone is still going to want to watch your show if the entire production crew got themselves killed making it?” Emma asked, incredulous.

  “Are you kidding me?” The producer let out a dry laugh. “The ratings will be better than ever. Why do you think people slow down to look at a car wreck? I’ll tell you why. Morbid curiosity. The same reason folk will tune in for the show if Darren Yates and the rest of the team don’t make it back. Human nature. The only thing better would be if there’s actual video of their demise. With the gory bits blurred out, naturally.”

  There was a moment of shocked silence around the campfire.

  Henriksen, perhaps realizing he’d said the quiet part loud, tried to backtrack. “Not that I’m wishing them dead, you have to understand. Nothing of the sort. Like I already told you, I hope we find everyone safe and sound.”

  “Yeah.” Decker shook his head. “You keep telling yourself that.”

  32

  The storm came rolling in a little after ten that night, driving everyone to their tents where they sheltered overnight as thunder rumbled and lightning split the sky. It was a violent maelstrom that pounded their camp with several inches of rain. The only upside was the wealth of fresh drinking water they collected thanks to Commander Ward, and the collection device he’d fashioned by lashing the corners of a trail tarp to the trunks of four trees. A small boulder placed in the middle of the tarp pulled the center down, almost to the ground, forming a rough bowl shape.

  When the storm passed, there was plenty of clean water that they wouldn’t have to test or boil before consuming. And with storms being a regular feature in the rainforest, they would have a steady supply for as long as they were here.

  They used some of this water early the next morning to brew co
ffee, which they drank while eating more MRE’s. Afterward, they prepared to descend the cliff.

  Commander Ward took charge of that. He assigned two of his men to stay topside with Henriksen and Cook, who looked suitably put out but accepted their fate quietly, then gathered the rest of the team near the ropes they had discovered the previous day. The ones used by Darren Yates and the film crew the previous week.

  He tested the ropes, checking they were tied off correctly and still safe, then clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. “All right, people. Time to do this thing. We brought harnesses and descenders with us for just this scenario. And we got lucky. The rope is already here, so we don’t need to worry about setting up our own rappelling system. That will save a lot of time.”

  “Maybe we should find another way down,” Rory said, eying the ropes.

  “Negative.” Ward shook his head. “It would take too long, and we might never find a path to the bottom. We use the ropes. Trust me, I’ll get everyone down safely. This is what I do.”

  “You sure about that?” Rory asked, nervous. “I was never much good at climbing rope in school. Made me dizzy. I was more of a sit in the library and read type of person.”

  “Why does that not surprise me?” Ward asked, giving Rory’s slight physique the one over. He grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll show you what to do. It’s all perfectly safe so long as you follow my instructions. And just to be sure, one of my men will be on the ground holding the ropes. If you slip, they’ll be able to arrest your descent.”

  “You make it sound so easy,” Rory said with little enthusiasm.

  “It is.” Ward said. “Like riding a bike.”

  “I was a late bloomer with that, too,” Rory said.

  “Hey. I’ll go first,” Emma said to him. “If a girl can do it, you should have no trouble.”

  “Great.” Rory pulled a face. “You must think I’m a real wimp. To tell the truth, I don’t like heights. Never have. Okay?”