by Tom Hunter
Alexia watched him and offered, “You could just ask me what time it is? We’re not exactly in the dark ages here.” She held up her iPhone. “See?” Big green numbers showed 2 AM. Dawn would break in a few more hours.
“Thanks.” He pulled the blanket up to his chin. Thomas shivered. A feeling of dread began to build a knot in his stomach.
“Thomas,” Alexia asked cautiously. “Are you okay? You look a little…peaked.”
“Cold. Just cold,” he answered, his face set grimly. He was cold, sure. But, the gash in his side burned like he’d lain on a hot stove.
“Why don’t you get some more sleep, huh?” Alexia suggested. “I think you need to rest and I’m sure the docs would agree with me,” she said raising her voice higher so they could hear her. One of them turned and nodded.
The young woman dressed in a white lab coat thrown over khaki gear strode toward them. “Good. You’re awake.”
After quickly checking Thomas’s bandages and feeling his head for a temperature, the doctor went on. “You have a low-grade fever. Probably from a combination of fatigue, shock, and utter exhaustion. It’s not good. But, it’s not bad either. A few more zees wouldn’t kill you.”
Thomas looked at her about to complain when he saw the hand she’d put up in anticipation. “Don’t even start. I’ve heard it all before. You need sleep. Doctor’s orders. I’ll give you something for the pain and to help you sleep,” she said as scribbled something on her pad.
“As if I’m not being bossed around by enough women these days,” Thomas quipped to Alexia as the doctor left. He shook his head and added, “God, I hate to admit it. But, she’s right. I do need a bit more sleep.” He fixed his gaze on Alexia. “And so, do you.”
A nursing student came back with a syringe of pain medicine and sedative. She turned first to Alexia. “Honey, you look dead on your feet. If we had a bed available, I’d say have a lie down.” The nurse gestured to the chair Alexia had just vacated. “I’d say get comfy with it, but I think you already are.”
“What do you mean?” asked Alexia.
“Sleeping while sitting up. It’s a particular talent of those people used to frequenting hospitals.” She took a long look at Alexia. “And you’ve seen your fair share,” the nurse finished. Then, turning to Thomas she quipped. “Now, time for you to say goodnight Gracie.”
Thomas laughed causing the stitches to stretch and pull. He reigned himself in quickly, cowed by the pain, and mimicked “good night Gracie.” Each was out before their head hit their respective pillows.
The sun was just cresting over the horizon, when Thomas woke again. The doctor and Alexia had been right. He felt better. More refreshed. His side still hurt, but not as bad and not as often. He was feeling more like himself again. And he was hungry.
Wasn’t perpetual hunger usually Pediah’s M.O.? He asked himself, as he turned to see if Alexia had woken up yet. She hadn’t, and by the sounds coming from her, she wouldn’t any time soon. Thomas worked to suppress a smile. It didn’t work and as he laughed, he felt the stitches in his side give a little. Realizing he finally understood the term “in stitches” in regard to laughter, he chuckled all the more. It hurt, but it was a good pain. He was alive.
In good spirits or maybe it was the morphine, he wasn’t sure, Thomas slid his hand behind his head and clutched a pillow. He pulled it slowly from beneath him and eyed his target. Gauging the distance and his throwing ability while nearly out of commission, he was glad Alexia had pulled the chair closer. His arm raised, he stopped when the stitches in his side argued with this plan, and let the pillow fly.
It hit her square in the face and dropped into her lap. “What the?” her eyes flew open. “Thomas Knight, what the hell did you do that for?” Alexia demanded to know.
Thomas smirked. “Well, you sound like a train’s coming through this tent and I didn’t want you to wake up drenched in drool,” he teased. “Geez, you sleep like I do. Er, like so I’ve been told, I mean.”
“Why you little…” Alexia raised her fist, angry at herself and him. “So and so,” she finished.
“It’s not like you to renege on name-calling. What’s up?”
“I was deferring to your…condition. But, it occurs to me now. There’s not a damn thing wrong with you, outside of a gaping abrasion on your side. It’s bleeding by the way. Again. Did you know?” she retorted, the last few sentences in mimicry of Hermione Grainger in Harry Potter.
Thinking of the series and its advance into darkness, Alexia was suddenly reminded of why they were fighting in the med tent in the first place. A shadow crossed her face and she turned to face Thomas. The look in her eye told him what he already expected, but he asked anyway.
“Last I remember, I went down into the caves to get Abby, Robbie, Pediah et al, and faced a very pissed off Kisgar in the process. You stayed topside to discuss things with Dr. Cunningham. Care to fill me in on the particulars?”
“Dr. Cunningham and Abby have teamed up to put the kibosh on any more cave exploration. For the time being,” Alexia began. “The Kisgar have quieted down somewhat, but not by much, so anyone below has been ordered to remain topside. And before you say anything, that’s doubly so for you.” She waggled her finger at him to emphasize her point.
“Thomas, there’s something even more important you should know,” Alexia bent her head over clasped hands and squeezed her eyes tight. She hadn’t been there, but her heart went out to Mochni.
“What is it, Alexia? What do I need to know?”
“Mochni is an orphan. When the Kisgar attacked at the sound of the drum, it opened up some kind of…hole. Pediah told me,” she explained in answer to the unspoken question in his eyes. “The hole,” Alexia swallowed and tried again. “The hole took Lt. Whipkey and… and… oh god, poor Mochni. His mother jumped in after her husband.”
“Come again? Lt. Whipkey is…gone?” Thomas whispered, Alexia nodded.
“I’m afraid for Mochni. His story only gets worse,” Alexia continued. “The villagers who didn’t get swallowed by the gaping crack in the earth have scattered. As far as we know, right now, Mochni is the last surviving Woidnuk in the area.”
“Poor Mochni,” Thomas exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. His heart went out to the boy. Mochni may have come from a race of giants, but he was still essentially a teenager, Robbie and Alexia being only a few years older than him. He wondered idly if Mochni and Robbie had bonded over their shared losses. Well, he and Abby with Mochni.
For a long while, neither spoke. An unspoken pact for silence to remember their new friends, gone so suddenly.
Finally, Thomas broke the silence. “And the artifacts? What of them?”
Alexia knew he really meant the drum. But, since they didn’t have it and had no way of getting it now, she told him what she did know. “Dr. Cunningham is taking the artifacts that have been collected away for safekeeping. I think he’s got a warehouse or something he uses.”
Thomas nodded slowly. “Yes. He does…” his voice trailed off as Alexia prepared herself for dropping the final bomb of bad news. She edged her chair closer to his hospital bed. Her knees were pressed against the cold steel frame. Alexia steepled and intertwined her fingers and leaned forward.
“We flew back into camp and I informed the rangers at lightning speed, when you went to get Abby and Robbie and the others. But…” she untangled her fingers and took one of his hands in hers. “I’m sorry. We just weren’t fast enough.”
“By the time the rangers found Noah’s campsite it was burned to ash. Anything that wasn’t nailed down had been looted. Only scorched earth greeted us, and tracks of an RV leading away from the campsite. The rangers tried to follow the tracks, but lost them in a sea of other vehicle tracks. The drum and Noah have disappeared.”
Thomas Knight sighed and rubbed his temple. “Great. Just great. I’d hoped the rangers would have found them in time, but…” he shrugged in resignation. “Guess not.”
“I’m sorry, Thomas. We tried,” Alexia sighed, wishing the burden to tell him everything hadn’t fallen on her. This should have been something for Abby. Or Pediah. But, she was here. They weren’t. And he had asked.
“So, Noah Ashbridge wins again,” Thomas said softly, shaking his head at the injustice. Then, he cocked his head to one side, a gesture Alexia recognized. His wheels were spinning, working on some hare-brained scheme or plan.
He arched an eyebrow and twisted his mouth to one side, debating what he should tell Alexia. But, he needed his team. All of them. “There is one other angle we could consider,” he ventured cautiously, watching her face for a reaction. When Alexia wasn’t angry, she was exceedingly good at stoicism, he decided.
“I can hear the alarm bells going off in your head. It’s in your eyes,” he explained at her attempt to contain any emotion until he could explain what he meant.
Alexia threw her hands up. “Okay, then. Explain.”
“Relax,” Thomas cooed. “First off, I said could consider. On the other hand, it’s not an angle I want to consider.”
“Fair point.” Alexia nodded. “Go on.”
“Well, when I was at Noah’s campsite and heading into the cave, there was this…symbol. A sticker at the entrance. Imagine the Hippocratic oath symbol upside down inside a triangle or something like that. Beneath the symbol was a Spanish phrase and I wondered if you could help me translate it?”
Alexia nodded. “Sure. If it’s Spanish. No problem. But, if it’s Portuguese, that might be a bit more difficult. Can you write it down?”
“Yep. Soon as I remember what it was.” Thomas confessed.
“Thomas!” Alexia exclaimed. “That’s not like you. No recording? No quick image drawn?” she asked.
“I should have paid closer attention, but I was a little distracted at the time,” he admitted.
“By?”
“Gunshots.”
“Oh yeah.”
“Anyway, I know I don’t have the phrasing. But, I was hoping that maybe if you could find the symbol, the phrasing would follow,” Thomas explained. “If we could trace it back to Ramon and his company—I think it’s a company symbol—maybe we could figure out where Ramon and his mercenaries are staying.”
“Well, sure. I can try. But, why?” Alexia wondered. She’d figured Thomas would want to stay as far away from any of that crew as possible. But, now he wanted to find their headquarters? She shook her head, utterly confused.
“It’s a long shot, but since we have no idea where Noah lives, it will be hard to track him the old-fashioned way. And if I know Noah, he doesn’t have just one address. He could be anywhere in the world,” Thomas explained. “Besides, if he did reside at only one location it’s not like he’d leave a forwarding address. So, I figured maybe Ramon might be able to shed some light on Noah’s whereabouts.”
“I see,” Alexia deadpanned. She still didn’t think it would be a good idea to go chasing after mercenaries, and certainly not at their headquarters. To her mind, that pretty much amounted to suicide.
“Well, I agree it’s a long shot. And I don’t like it. At all. But, if Ecknom’s Folly is as much a threat as the Woidnuk believed, which seems to be true so far, you’re right. We can’t afford to wait for the law on this one. For them to catch Noah.” Alexia stopped, her brow furrowed as she remembered something.
“They never caught him when he stole from you when he was your student, did they? He must have some deep connections on the black market to have escaped the law all these years,” she mused, as Thomas nodded in answer to her question.
Alexia pressed her lips together and nodded slowly as if assuring herself this was the best plan. She clapped her hands once and rubbed them together in anticipation. “Okay, then. Let’s get this party started. Now, I just need some paper and…there!” She left her chair and hurried over to a desk in the corner. Abby’s sketchpad she’d used with Mochni still had some blank pages, so Alexia grabbed it and a pen from a coffee canister doing double duty as a pencil holder. Armed with her gear, she sat back down next to Thomas. “Now,” she said, her pen raised. “Describe the symbol to me again.”
Thomas did so, as Alexia did a quick pencil etching of his description. “Good. Now, here’s the symbol. Do you remember the phrase yet?” she asked.
“Yeah. Rastreadores baixos, I think.”
Alexia frowned. “I think it means low crawlers or something like that. Could it be a reference to low hanging fruit? Like the easy way to something, do you think?”
“Haven’t a clue,” shrugged Thomas. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Well, in that case, if it is Spanish and not Portuguese, that’ll help narrow down the search. So, in Spanish it would be pretty much the same,” she said under her breath, as she talked to herself about the particulars. “Scrap the ‘ix’ in the second word for ‘j’…and yep, the same damn word. That’s actually a good thing. If they’re that close, it’ll will help narrow down the search. Good.” Alexia nodded curtly at her handiwork and stood up. “Well, I’m off then. Will see what we come up with,” she said waving the pad and symbol at Thomas.
“Thanks, Alexia.” Thomas watched her go. He was suddenly glad he’d put his foot down about her going into the cave on this last visit. If anything had happened to her… He wanted everyone to be safe, of course. But, for all intents and purposes, everyone else was more experienced. Even Robbie with his extreme sports addiction. Alexia was different, somehow.
Thirty-Two
Far off the beaten path, jeeps and military-grade vehicles dotted the landscape in front of the bunker. To anyone just passing by, they’d have assumed field deployments. War practice was underway. In a way, they might have been right, thought one new recruit. Readjusting his weapon and tugging at the bottom of his camo shirt, he watched as the RV pulled into the long drive. He’d been ordered to let it go in unhindered.
The RV had pulled in smoothly and parked itself next to one of Ramon’s trucks, the patrolman observed. It was an A-class desert camo design. Blends in well in this part of California, I guess, the young man mused. Then, with a shrug, he turned back to his task at hand. He didn’t see the man with a briefcase and woman exit the vehicle, and enter the heavily guarded building.
Inside, Ramon and his confidante, Pedro, stood at attention on one side of the table, Noah and Miss Welker on the other. Noah heaved the briefcase onto the table and slammed it down. Though it was unintentional, he mused, it was highly effective. An exclamation point to the purpose of their meeting.
The briefcase’s slightly bulbous body had caused the front to spin toward Ramon. Noah placed his hand on the middle and spun it back toward he and Miss Welker so he could access the code buttons. He bent to his task as Ramon began listing his calculations.
“Do you mind?” snapped Noah. “I’m trying to concentrate!”
“No, I don’t mind,” Ramon answered. “Now, where was I…” Ramon looked up and to the right trying to find where he’d left off in his calculations. “Oh. Got it. Let’s see…Julio, Peter, and Glen were killed. So, I’ll take hazard pay for that. Then, Liam, Geoff, and Gunther were injured.” He glanced sideways at Pedro, “And his cousin seems to have disappeared along with a half dozen others, I couldn’t possibly name. I just know they’re missing and my spies tell me there’s a big gaping hole that swallowed up the giants of that village in the cave. So, I’ll need extra to search for my boys….Then, there was –“
“Just give me a number, dammit,” Noah said quietly through gritted teeth.
Ramon shrugged. “Okay. A cool mil,” he said, as he fingered the gun at his side. A sideways glance at Pedro who did the same. Noah ignored the implied threat.
“Fine,” Noah agreed as his fingers spun the final numbers into place. A soft click and release. Noah flipped open the case and counted out the bundles of bills. He laid them on the table between them.
Ramon and Pedro watched impassively. Pedro reached under the table for his own c
ase to help Ramon transfer the money. Ramon picked up a stack and flipped through it to make sure it was all bills and no tricks were at play, then began handing them to Pedro.
Ramon had turned to walk away when Noah asked. “Why cash?” Noah asked. “No wire transfers?”
“Cash is untraceable. You know that. Quit stalling,” he responded over his shoulder as Pedro clicked close the case he’d just transferred the monies into.
“Did I stall? No. There it is in front of you.” Noah paused. “But, I do have one final question.”
“What?” Ramon asked sharply. He was ready to be done with Noah, and had new plans of his own in regard to the treasures of Death Valley.
“What happens now?”
Ramon turned around to face Noah. He put his hands on the table and leaned in conspiratorially. “If I had my way, we’d never meet again.”
Noah arched an eyebrow and waited. He knew Ramon had a lot more to say and, for some reason he couldn’t fathom, he wanted to hear what he had to say.
“Good God, man,” Ramon began. “I’ve never worked with an idiot such as you before. If the goal was to hunt artifacts, then we could have simply destroyed Thomas Knight’s camp and taken our time to dig when, where, and how we wanted. The story of Knight’s campsite would be just another spooky ghost story woven into a tall tale by the locals. But, nooo… Instead, you created an environment that put my men at considerable risk.”
“They are mercenaries. They put themselves at risk for a living,” Miss Welker interjected. Ramon shot her a look of pure hatred and fury. He ignored her remark and turned back to Noah. “Because you wouldn’t follow basic tactics, when and if it comes down to it, I will hold you ultimately responsible and see you ended.” Veins bulged, giving his scarred face the sudden countenance of the beast beneath.
His eyes roved to Miss Welker for a parting shot. He gestured toward her. “And she’s going to be the death of you. Her bite doesn’t sting. It kills.”