The Quake

by Tom Hunter

  “It is gone. For now, Mama,” Mochni assured her. She lowered her eyelids until only slits of obsidian considered her son warily. “How do you know this?” she asked in surprise.

  He shrugged. “I do not know how. I just…know.” He gestured to the humans laughing. “They do not know it will not come back, yet they feel…” he searched for the word. “Success.” She looked at him questioningly and Mochni explained, “It is a win for them. Just for now. And it is all they need until the next challenge. Come,” he said guiding her by the arm to join the group as Thomas stood erect. He was laughing heartily now. The others had joined in with rueful smiles and careful laughs. Thomas slapped his knee.

  “Full disclosure, folks. I had no idea whether that would work or not –“

  “Ya think?” asked Alexia smartly. Thomas shot a look toward her in mock horror.

  “Well, it worked didn’t it?” he asked innocently. “If you had a better idea, you were free to jump in any time, Ms. Fixit,” he huffed, using her Robbie Blake-induced nickname to get a rise out of her.

  “I fix machines,” she snapped. “Not creatures from the ancient world.”

  Abby laughed, “Good lord, you two sound like an old married couple.” She beamed at them both. She’d grown quite fond of Alexia and had known Thomas for longer than she cared to remember. “Whatever Thomas did, it worked. The creature’s gone. Now, can we keep walking? We’ve still got a lot of work to do.” In the space of a breath, Abby Hogan had moved from glad to be alive to a brisk task master. “I believe my title was Project Manager or some such thing, was it not?” she asked as the team swung their gaze to hers.

  “Yeah,” answered Robbie. “And darn good you are at it, too.”

  Pediah had been unusually quiet reeling from the closeness of the creature. “I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t want to get that close to a Kisgar again! Unless it’s back under Woidnuk domestic control.” He whirled toward Thomas. “What in god’s name made you think that would work?” he exclaimed in a rush.

  “I’ve been laughing along with everyone else, but Pediah brings up a good point,” Abby added. She stood facing him and put her hands palms up as if to say “what gives”?

  “It’s an idea I’ve been working on and stems from observations. I believe Ecknom’s Folly does more than warp and control the Kisgar into berserker demons. I think that somehow it…unravels their training and forces them into a more primal state,” he explained. “In other words, the only response was to copy what they would do.” He paused and ran a hand through his hair to gather his thoughts. He had to make them understand. He wasn’t going crazy. Quite to the contrary, his mind was sharpening into focus. When he looked up, his gaze found Mochni’s mother who offered a wan smile.

  The strands were tying together their two cultures in an inexplicable fashion. Perhaps, it had always been meant for the drum to be stolen and new friends found in its reclaiming. Like all changes, this one was painful and she saw a similar pain reflected in the tall man’s eyes. Once bright blue eyes had paled against an ashen face sallow from too much worry.

  She gave a startled look when he said, “It was Mochni’s mother’s story which gave me the idea.”

  “It did?” asked Mochni.

  “Yes. I got to thinking about what she’d said when we were still at the house. About how the Woidnuk had needed to work together to bring the Kisgar under control when Ecknom and his drum were first found out and put away,” Thomas explained. “So, as we were walking and heard the rattling behind the walls, it struck me. These creatures are larger even than the Woidnuk and in the jungle it’s the bigger animal who is able to gain control and overcome the smaller, yes?”

  “Riiiight…” ventured Robbie cautiously.

  “Okay. Then in order for us to become the ‘bigger creature’,” Thomas pointed first to himself then in a circular motion to include the group, “we had to combine our efforts so to speak. As Mochni’s mother explained, the Woidnuk had to work together to make the creatures believe they were now the predator to force a retraining. See?”

  Abby tapped a finger to her lips. “Down?” she asked. “Like the Liliiputians tied down Gulliver?”

  “Lilly who?” asked Mochni, baffled. “Who is Gulliver?” he asked as his eyes scanned their small group for someone he was sure he had missed or whose name he’d never heard correctly.

  “It’s a –“ Robbie started to say. Then, “Never mind for now. I’ll explain it later.” He turned toward the path leading away from their run in with Kisgar. “Let’s go guys. If I recall, we’re running out of time,” he said as he waved to everyone to follow him.

  As the team formed behind Robbie, Mochni’s mother whispered, “You have found some…interesting friends, Mochni.”

  “Oh yes, this is true. Thomas,” he explained pointing, “He’s the surface chieftain of my friends and some more humans you haven’t yet met,” Mochni added. His mother turned to face him.

  “So, there’s more like Thomas and his friends and not…” her voice trailed off. Before Mochni could answer, Thomas stepped forward.

  “Well, we’re not all bad,” Thomas said with a grin as he moved to catch up with Robbie.

  “Does he know where to go?” Mochni looked up, surprised to find that Thomas and Robbie led the way and not his mother and he. The Woidnuk cleared his throat and Thomas turned.

  “Maybe you’d like us - my mother and I, I mean – to lead the way?” Thomas and Robbie parted with a slight bow and extended their arms to usher the two Woidnuk through.

  Alexia and Abby hid their smiles as everyone fell back into their respective places and continued on their way.

  Twenty-Nine

  Always one to be on the cutting edge, Noah had demanded his ransom demand in cryptocurrency. “Nearly untraceable,” he’d explained to Ms. Welker who had raised her eyebrows surprised he thought she didn’t know.

  Ms. Welker kept watch at the door, once slender hand flat against the door framework. She could hear the click of the keys as he checked his bank account and wondered if it had risen significantly. From his gruff exhalation, she guessed he was still waiting.

  “Do they want to die?!” he asked incredulously rolling his eyes at the sum which remained the same.

  Adjusting her body so she could both keep watch and talk with Noah, she leaned against the frame and crossed her ankles casually. “How’s it look?” she asked innocently, though from his grunts and huffs, she suspected she knew the answer already. When he looked up from his machinations of turning knobs and dials to get a connection, she snickered. “I was just asking. You don’t have to look at me like that. Geez, you’d think I was the one stalling and not two state government officials.”

  “Sorry,” he offered contritely running a hand across his sweating brow. “It’s been hell trying to get a connection –“ he raised his hand to stop her. “And before you say anything, yes, I’m quite aware we are significantly below ground and a connection is not expected to jump to life. But, I do have this.” He waved a small device not too unlike a dongle. He inserted the device into his laptop and sighed. “Finally, to answer your question. No. I see no signs of funds being exchanged or rather, deposited into my – our – bank account.”

  Ms. Welker tapped a finger against her lip contemplating where they might have gone wrong. Then, how they were going to fix this. She had a sneaking suspicion they might need a backup plan of some kind and when push came to shove would be lucky to get out with their lives. She shuddered then shot a quick look toward Noah. Good, he didn’t notice.

  “Well…what do you plan to do if they refuse you? What if they decide not to pay?” she asked curious if he’d thought further ahead than the initial plan they’d concocted.

  Noah shrugged. “Then, I’ll make good on my threats,” he responded. His eyes flickered up to meet hers and she shivered. Coal black eyes devoid of life greeted her. And as if ordering the Tuesday special from a diner menu, Noah mused out loud, “I wonder wh
ich city would make the greatest impression on them that I mean business?” He rubbed his chin and begin to tick names off on his fingers. “Los Angeles? Hollywood, in particular? Vegas? Reno? Tahoe? Hmmm….” A crooked smile cracked his sallow face and Ms. Welker saw, not for the first time, what kind of man Noah Ashbridge really was.

  “Uh, Noah?” she began cautiously. “Is it really worth doing all of this?” she asked spreading her arms to indicate the controls in front of him and the drum just behind him. “I mean, let’s just say for argument’s sake that the states do come through. What then? We’ll be on the run for the rest of our lives…” her voice trailed off at his shocked expression.

  Oh god, he’s never thought past the money. The realization slammed into her psyche.

  Tilting his head first from one side, then to the other, he considered Ms. Welker in a new light. “You do realize, Ms. Welker, that we have committed several terrorist acts already. At this point, we really have no choice but to move forward. Whether we stop now or continue on, we’ll still be on the run. But, with the kind of money I’ve demanded we can hideaway in some of the most remote, private, and well-guarded lands in the world. Private islands? Check. Underwater bunkers. Check. You name it. The cash will bring it.” As if in afterthought, he added, “Are you on my side or not, Ms. Welker?” he asked drawling her preferred form of address.

  Almond shaped eyes studied him coolly. “Of course, I’m on your side, Noah,” she breathed her throat catching at the words. She was glad her voice came out husky rather than strangled. Ms. Welker readjusted her long legs planting her feet more firmly against the hard ground, though she had slid imperceptibly from the door’s solidity. She looked down at her hands wrapped around her trim waist and raised her eyes once more. “I’m simply concerned,” she admitted twisting her mouth in worry.

  “About?” Noah snapped.

  “What we’re doing and what it means for our future plans,” she confessed. Ms. Welker sighed and shuffled her toe at the floor. There was one more thing she needed to know but had learned it the hard way it set the little man off in unexpected ways.

  At Ms. Welker’s sigh, Noah looked up sharply. “What?” he barked. “What else?”

  “What happens to the drum? I mean, right now, it’s ultimate purpose is a means to an end, right?” Noah nodded and Ms. Welker continued, “Okay then…whether your demands or met or not, I repeat, what happens to the drum? It is quite an important find after all, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Mmm…” He kept his eyes on his task at hand tapping the F5 key to refresh his online banking page. He’d thought about it plenty, but hadn’t yet decided whether or not to reveal anything and really, he was quite adamant, there was only one answer. His mind made up, he glanced once more at the screen, nothing had changed. Then, met Ms. Welker’s gaze. “Oh, I don’t think there’s too much to worry about,” he said casually. “I mean, really, what else can these states do but give in to my demands. Do you think they’d let their cities and people fall under attack out of misplaced pride?”

  “Well, it’s happened once already at the national level,” she countered. “Why not at the state level?” She groaned. “Remember -?”

  Noah held up a hand. “Yes. And I don’t want to talk about it.” He turned off his equipment and the room went silent. No buzzing. No rumbling. No shouting. No boots tromping heavily on the earthen floor. It reminded him the black clouds which had rolled in just hours before his grandfather’s death. The calm before the storm. He shook the sense of foreboding and clasped his hands together. “Well, well. It looks like we’ll have to move the clock up a bit. I guess the video footage wasn’t enough.” Noah turned toward the drum and ignoring Ms. Welker spoke to the drum as he pulled it to him.

  “We’ll show them how serious we are, won’t he?” he cooed to the instrument. “I’ll – we’ll – show them ALL!” his voice rose higher and higher as he began to tick off the names and finally. “Clark. Ashbridge,” he spat each name. “Ha!” Then, “Reggie was right. Daddy was wrong. Reggie was right. Daddy was wrong,” Noah sang in a child’s sing-song voice as he raised his hands to beat the drum once again.

  Then, just as quickly as it had become a child’s voice, he spoke in the bass tone father’s reserved for naughty children. “We’ll show the world, together.” He cradled the drum between his legs and stared wild-eyed at Ms. Welker. His coal dark eyes gleamed and she realized with a start that he didn’t seem to recognize her.

  Which seems fair, she thought as she considered the man on the floor before her. It must have been the stress, a trick of the eyes, she imagined. But, she could have sworn she saw a four-year old tow-headed child on a tall white-haired man’s lap. Another man stood behind him and she recognized Clark Ashbridge. What the – ?“ Her eyes flew once more to Noah and the man she saw now before her was not the man she’d once known. He was different. Something had irrevocably changed in him and she felt an intense desire to push off from the door frame and run.

  Thirty

  The lights from their headlamps and flashlights gleamed brighter as they walked, and Thomas was dimly aware the extra light wasn’t coming from them. As they rounded the last bend, he saw why. Like the trees lining the long drive of a Southern plantation, torches illuminated their final few steps as they approached two great stone doors set deep into the cavernous wall.

  “Those look an awful lot like…” Alexia began raising a shaky finger.

  “I know,” replied Thomas. “The doors we stumbled upon coming down that sand slide, sink hole. Where we discovered the…” his voice trailed off as he realized they were at the old temple. “Well, it might be incomplete inside,” he muttered under his breath. “But they were sure to get all the doors in place.”

  “Is that -?” Robbie asked as he stopped beside them.

  “Yes,” Alexia and Thomas answered in unison interrupting him. Soon, everyone was rooted to the ground, even Mochni and his mother, so awe-inspiring were the depictions on them as well the structures themselves.

  “Everything about them is the story of the Kisgar and the Woidnuk,” explained Mochni’s mother. “I was not yet born, but I heard the story for a lifetime and told it myself for another.” She turned to Thomas. “You have been here before. But from the other side.”

  Thomas nodded without looking at her. His eyes were fastened to the carvings in and around the doors illuminated by torches set as a frame and spotlight in a cascade of light. No shadows would confuse the story here, he thought. Woidnuk and Kisgar were locked in combat in a ring around a central figure with a large round drum before it. Ecknom and his folly. It had to be.

  As they studied the images, a sense of movement caught their peripheral vision. Somehow, though light filled the immediate area, figures who seemed to melt into and skirt the light began to move toward the door.

  “The door is a warning,” Mochni’s mother said into the hushed silence. No one moved and she continued. “It is the first war between the Kisgar and the Woidnuk. It tells the story of Ecknom’s folly to try to control the Kisgar with his drum and erase the surface dwellers.” She turned to meet Thomas Knight’s gaze. “You,” she confirmed with a nod to the other humans.

  “It seems Ecknom did not account for the fact, we, the Woidnuk were…” she turned to Abby. “How do you say it?” she asked looking for the right word gesturing her meaning.

  “In the way?” Abby suggested.

  “Yes! That’s it.” She smiled and turned back to face the door. Now she was telling the story to the ages; all who might ever come this way. “So, instead of waiting for the Kisgar to go above ground, Ecknom began to play here. The Kisgar attacked and since that day, except for some of the docile creatures we sent you off with, our two cultures have been embroiled in vicious combat.”

  Thomas eyes narrowed. Something didn’t add up. “You said the door was a…a warning,” he reminded her.

  “Yes. It is a warning of what might happen were it ever to be opened again.” The old
woman’s voice rang out clear, her words echoing in their ears.

  “Like Pandora’s box…” whispered Abby. Mochni’s mother’s sharp ears caught her words.

  “Yes. Mochni’s father spoke to me once of this box. It is similar,” she agreed. Mother looked down at the gathering shadows beneath them at the foot of the door and Alexia gasped.

  “I didn’t realize!” she exclaimed in a loud whisper and looked around for a librarian to shush her so quiet were the tombs. Mother smiled.

  “Yes, we are on the…second…level. These doors are taller than they appear. Life-size for both the Woidnuk and the Kisgar,” she informed them.

  Alexia clasped a hand over her mouth. “Oh! I didn’t even realize,” she declared looking down. The others followed her gaze and the answer to the riddle of the figures moving toward the door was answered. Down a twisting incline to the left of the great doors in front of them a skeleton crew of Woidnuk sat in groups of twos and threes. It was their mealtime and it was being interrupted.

  The humanoid giants paused some holding large brown mushrooms, others with insects either pinched between their thumb and middle finger or dried on a stick, while still others looked up from their squat positions mid-picking of their meal. It lasted only moments, but in a collective breath, the Woidnuk started to raise their hands to avoid any more bloodshed. What they’d found to eat here was all that was left after the Kisgar had rampaged their communities and tunnels. Even the perennial flora and fauna of the cave was meager from what it had once been.

  One of them stepped forward and raised a hand in greeting. Then smiled, when he recognized Mochni and his mother at the center of the human group.

  With a nudge from his mother, Mochni stumbled forward and looked to her in question. “These are your people now, child. You must address them and explain who your friends are and why we have come.,” she explained.