Alex sat in silence as she felt the needle disappear into her arm. Whatever Dr. Jones injected made her feel like she was floating on air.
"Alex please? You have to. Do this for your mother."
Though now surprisingly calm Alex had every intention of punching Keating’s lights out over his last sleazy salesman 'do this for your mother' stab. She could still recall the events of that day as if it just happened. She knew her mother would have wanted her to continue her life’s work but to relive the entire ordeal on top of her father’s disappearance was too much to ask. She paused her internal thoughts. There was a strong possibility that her father might still be alive. She couldn’t sit back and do nothing.
As she pondered her fate the two men continued.
"Dr. can’t you give her some miracle pill to take the edge off her situation; help her take control over this or something? If she doesn't go out there and find him it’s very likely that her father will end up getting killed too. We have to put an end to this once and for all. These people are savages. They will never stop until they find the treasure and as long as they think her father or she has knowledge of the key or any of the so-called treasure they will keep going and might very well come after her here.”
"Professor I mean no disrespect, but Alex and I have gone through years of therapy and behavioral treatments. She has her meds, but until she's psychologically ready, my hands are tied. Agoraphobia is not a physical ailment. It’s a mental disease. One that either lingers forever or, best case, can be controlled with anti-depressants when the patient is ready. It is entirely a matter of being psychologically and emotionally ready. Once that happens, she can manage the disease as the symptoms occur. But, if you push a patient too hard at the wrong time, the consequences can easily go the other way and that could land her in an institution for the rest of her life. We simply have no way of telling where she’s at right now.”
He paused and scratched his brow for a second before continuing.
“There was a recent case study so we might have a very slim chance here. Something we might be able to try IF she's willing. However, I must stress, this particular therapy method currently stands unproven, so I offer no guarantees. Theoretically, the treatment should work; if we’re lucky.”
"Anything Dr., we should try anything. This is a matter of life and death so we might not have any other option."
“You two are talking as if I’m not here. May I remind you that it’s my and my father’s lives you’re playing with here? You should send in the police, or the army or something, a team of professionals. I’m an archaeologist, not a soldier!“
“What’s this therapy you mentioned, Dr.?” Keating ignored her and continued his conversation with the doctor.
"Well, the only other possible recourse is if you have someone accompany her. Preferably someone with a medical background who is stable and trustworthy that will help her through the panic attacks. It will have to be someone she knows she could trust and who will be with her every step of the way."
"Hell no! I don't need a babysitter or a nurse. I'm quite capable of looking after myself, thank you. I'll go to Africa on my own, but only because my father's life depends on it. I'll fetch him and bring him back! Nothing more! No hunting down lost cities or relics or anything of the sort. I don't need to find Rhapta, and I am dead sure that I don't need the fame. Is that clear Professor?"
"Clear as daylight Alex. However, I just need you to think about the Rhapta bit for a moment. Sleep on it. We have new evidence that the city does, in fact, exist. Lying somewhere in Tanzania waiting for us to unlock all her secrets and relics. The evidence is sufficient enough. As an archaeologist, you are duty bound to help us discover ancient history. A discovery of this stature can reveal valuable links to another history unknown to the world. Please consider the prospect. If not for me, then for your parents."
Alex walked over to her father's antique desk and skimmed over the contents. History ran through her father’s veins. She couldn’t escape that. Keating was sure as heck pushing her beyond her comfort zone, but for the sake of her father, she really didn’t have any other option.
Her mother, and obviously now her father too, believed this quest was worth risking their lives for. She should trust in their knowledge and experience and believe they might just be on to something big. Besides, Keating was correct of course. A discovery of this magnitude could provide valuable insights into new cultures and if this killed her too, then so be it.
Perhaps then all those treasure hunters who scour the world thinking they are on the verge of discovering ancient secrets and treasures will realize some secrets need to stay buried forever.
"Are you sure you can do this Alex?" Dr. Jones asked nervously.
"You've made a lot of progress, but this might be too much for you to take on. Your meds will only do so much."
"Well, if the stuff has the same effect as what you just gave me, then, by all means, Dr., stock me up."
Professor Keating rushed to her side. ”Alex, I'll send one of my best students with you as a backup and book you a first class seat. Anything to make the trip more comfortable for you. Just say the word."
"Students will weigh me down, Professor, I don't need them. I told you. I can do this on my own."
The doctor interjected. “Well, if I may Alex. I don't think that's wise. If you have an episode in the midst of a dangerous situation, the consequences could potentially be fatal. To have someone with you at all times will be vital to you getting through this."
Alex swept her hair out of her face and ignored his advice.
"I'll need something to knock me out on the plane and the ground team ready when I land, that's all. Oh, and a small supply of these meds you just gave me Doc. I'll manage the rest on my own."
Her words echoed in her head. She had no idea how she was supposed to do this?
"Alex, you need to be very sure this is what you want to do,” the doctor cautioned again.
As always, he was most likely right. What was she thinking? She could never do this on her own and would probably end up dead, but she had to try.
"Thank you Doctor, but we are talking about my father's life. How can I not try save him? If his life depends on me risking my life for his, then I must dig deep and at least try. When my mother most needed me, I let her down. I am not about to do the same to my father."
Relic hunting was in her blood. She knew nothing else. Born to the famous Hunt explorers, escaping their legacy was impossible. She’s been to more countries hunting down treasures and ancient relics than most people will ever experience. Her childhood memories were not of birthday parties and learning how to ride a bicycle. Instead, her young life was filled with camel rides across the desert and swimming through crocodile-infested swamps.
Her father’s words rang in her head. ’The excitement lies in the next chase. That's what makes life great.’
No two days were ever the same. Most children only dream of going on wild adventures like she did instead of sitting through repetitious school lessons and bedtime routines. Just the world and all its experiences. A once in a lifetime organic education filled with firsthand lessons in eight different languages. Living with tribes in Peru or making clay pots in Egypt. Her life was never dull or without instruction.
The professor was right. Relic hunting was in her genes. She learned firsthand from the best explorers known to mankind. With the right ground team and resources, she could find her father and bring him home alive.
When Alex was eventually alone again, she sat down behind her desk. Her eye caught her emergency medical bracelet dangling around her wrist. Beneath the thin silver chain was the bright pink scar she got while sliding down the sharp sandy cliffs of the Kingdom of Mustang in Northern Nepal. Those mysterious caves were quite a find. That was, in reality, her first official expedition and she loved every living moment of the mission.
She caught herself smiling as she recalled the memories and realized how much s
he missed the adrenalin rush. The sheer exhilaration shooting through her veins when she conquered treacherous places where modern man had ever been. The threat of danger contradicted by the mesmerizing tranquility that comes from being one with nature.
The silver medical tag around her wrist stared back at her. Alexandra Hunt - Agoraphobe.
For the last three years, she’d been staring at those words. Was this who she had become? Like hell it was!
She was Alex Hunt, daughter of the famous Archaeological Hunt team. Head Researcher, Archaeologist and ... Relic Hunter.
Chapter Two
The lukewarm tap water wasn’t helping. Alex breathed in shallow pants and ran back into the bathroom cubicle. The dirty space was tiny. Her reflection in the mirror stared back at her. You're okay Alexandra. You don't have to be afraid of anything. You're safe.
Fifteen minutes later she climbed the aircraft's steps. She forcefully reminded herself of why she was doing this and took a couple of deep breaths. The plane was at capacity and evoked a sense of claustrophobia in her. She hated the confined space and people around her. Relief washed over her as the air hostess showed her to her business class seat. Seated next to her was a man who looked ridiculously more nervous than she.
"First time huh?"
"Not quite but I guarantee you, without a doubt not exactly my place of comfort,” he replied, still fumbling with his seatbelt as Alex opened the overhead above her seat.
"Oh, let me take that for you Miss Hunt,” the friendly air hostess stopped her.
"Miss Hunt? Oh... Uh, I beg your pardon. I was expecting—“ the man in the seat blurted out.
“You were expecting what? A man?" Alex smirked as she watched him clumsily attempt to get up in the cramped space to greet her.
"Well, yes if I have to be truthful. Professor Keating told me to meet Alex Hunt, so I assumed... well, it's just that, Alex is a male name and, I..." scratching his head in a futile attempt to create a comeback.
“So they saddled me with a babysitter anyway. Great,” Alex snapped back deciding to let him squirm for a bit. It wasn’t the first time someone made the wrong assumption about her. Exploration wasn’t for the faint-hearted and finding a female in her profession, was close to impossible.
Her mother was one of the very few and they were always very careful with protecting Alex from the news teams. In hindsight, her parents’ wisdom and foresight into the danger of exposing her identity in the tabloids were precisely what had kept her safe. In all probability it was the very catalyst to her mother’s death.
"And who is the fortunate chosen one Professor Keating thinks is equipped enough to handle this expedition?" she asked sarcastically.
"Sam Quinn, at your service Miss Hunt,” holding out his hand.
“And why exactly did Professor Keating think you’d be qualified to accompany me? Looking at you, I have the sense that planes aren't exactly your thing. How in heavens' name are you meant to climb down a shaft or slide through an underground tunnel if you're nervous about flying?"
“For one, I’m a huge fan of your parents. Studied their every move and we all greatly respected your mother. Her death was a sad day in archaeology."
Alex ignored his comment. As far as she was concerned he didn’t know the meaning of the word sad, but she was stuck with this guy and there was nothing she could do to change it.
"Well Sam Quinn, if you pull that strap any tighter you might sever your waist."
"You're right. I'm not the biggest fan of flying," tightening the seatbelt even more.
"I suppose you do this so often you might as well be driving a car. How many expeditions have you been on, Miss Hunt?"
"Unfortunately more times than I care to count," she replied fumbling with her safety buckle on her lap. The effect of the potent sedative was kicking in and slurred her speech. Perhaps she should have taken just one.
"Can I just say, Miss Hunt...?”
"Alex, the name is Alex. Short for Alexandra, a female name,” straight away regretting her irritation and bitter edge. Today, flying wasn’t her thing either.
"Indeed yes Alex,” clearing his throat. “As I was just going to say, I majored top of my class and am well equipped to have been selected to accompany you on this adventure. Your parents have been my inspiration and role models growing up. The very reason I fell in love with archaeology. I gave Professor Keating my word and well, how shall I put this? I'm aware of your condition."
Oh great. Here we go.
"Well, thank you Mr. Quinn, but judging from those clothes, this is, without doubt, your first rodeo. As for my condition, I can manage just fine, thank you."
He looked down at his crisp white collared shirt and black jeans and shuffled awkwardly in his seat.
"I figured if I'm going to die I should at least be dressed for the burial,” breaking into a laugh.
Alex fought the urge to smile. At least the man had a sense of humor, even at his own expense.
"You, on the other hand, Alex Hunt, are dressed like GI Jane, ready to crawl through some tomb or chasm in the middle of a jungle. Do you always dress like this when you're flying?"
"Only when I try to blend in with the locals at my destination. Africa is unlike any other place you might have been to Mr. Quinn. The terrain is tough and the people, well, let's just say not all of them are friendlies."
Sam looked even more scared now.
"How do you mean 'not all of them are friendlies'? What does that mean specifically?"
"Don't worry Mr. Quinn. Dressed like that you might in effect scare them off."
Alex rubbed her eyes. Her eyelids appeared to weigh rather heavily as they started pulling south and she was certain her words were slurring a little too much. She pulled at the seatbelt in much the same way Sam did earlier and focused on her breathing. It was the first time out of the house in over three years. She was facing her fears head-on. The corner of her mouth curled up ever so slightly. She loved Africa and could almost smell the familiar red dust that was such a big part of her childhood. To some extent she welcomed the exhilarated possibility of uncovering the truth about Rhapta and finding the key everyone believed existed. Discovering Rhapta was her mother's single greatest quest. She risked and lost her life for the sake of fulfilling her dream chasing after the legendary city.
Her father's face interrupted her thoughts. Losing her father was not an option. Her stomach turned at the thought and formed a lump in her throat. She swallowed hard and tried to control her trailing fears. Look ahead, straight ahead. You can do this. She recited in her head. She just needed to follow her father’s last clues and bring him back home. That was it. Nothing more.
The pilot announced the emergency procedures and Alex’s eyes followed the hostesses up and down the aisles as they did their last checks on the overheads before strapping into their seats.
She still wasn’t sure how she even managed to leave her apartment that day. If it weren’t for Dr. Jones that drove her to the airport she in all likelihood would not have even made it to her front steps.
A nervous thought made her reach inside her khaki jacket and check that the round container of pills was still there. She started her breathing exercises and lay her head back on the headrest. Her hands gripped the armrests tightly as the plane took flight.
Moments later Sam Quinn's firm, muscular hand clasped hers. She wanted to pull away, but somehow the urgent need to rely on his strength pushed all her instincts aside. Alex glanced at him sitting stiffly in his seat with his eyes shut tight. Maybe he needed her courage too and in that very moment, Alexandra Hunt concluded that everything would be all right. Something in that moment told her that Sam Quinn would help her through the mission just fine.
She must have passed out shortly after takeoff as a passing passenger woke her by knocking her elbow with his kneecap. One by one the passengers scurried along the narrow aisle to disembark the plane. Still slightly woozy from the heavy sedation Alex unclipped her seatbelt and turned
sideways to look at Sam where he patiently sat waiting in his seat. He seemed somewhat relieved that the plane was now safely on solid ground.
"Ah, hello there. That was quite a nap, Miss Hunt. Here, I saved you some juice and a bread-roll."
The sedatives left her mouth dehydrated to the point where her tongue was stuck solidly to her palate.
"Thanks. Shall we head off then?" Alex replied while reaching for her backpack from the overhead.
"You're going to have to change out of those clothes Mr. Quinn. You won't last an hour in them. Please tell me you packed a carry on with some khakis?"
"Right here. I've come prepared,” rapping his rucksack now hanging on his chest like a baby carrier.
He looked like a naughty school child about to go to his first cub camp.
"Best you saddle up Mr. Quinn and let's shake a leg. You might have to change in the Jeep."
Alex couldn't resist rattling his cage a tad. This man was so obviously a novice at all of this. The horrified look on his face at the idea of having to change in a moving Jeep in the middle of rural Africa was just priceless. But it was a welcome distraction to her ever-troubled mind.
The hot African sun hit her face the moment she stepped out of the plane onto the runway. Suddenly her feet were bricks of lead, glued solidly to the ground. Alex recalled her mother's face and the look in her eyes as they dragged her away. Her heart started racing, and her palms broke into a clammy sweat. She swallowed twice in a futile attempt to wash down the lump that found its way to her throat. Fear gripped her neck as doubts enveloped her mind. There was just no way she could go through with this. For a moment she contemplated turning around and heading back into the plane. She looked back but the crew had already raised the steps and swiftly closed the door behind them. Did they sense her trepidation? Perhaps they were told to do so.
The Alex Hunt Series Page 2