by Tom Hunter
Noah opened his mouth to respond, when Miss Welker answered for herself. “You are a brute and a boar and if you or your men die, it is no fault but yours. Do you understand?”
Her eyes blazed like fire.
But Ramon wasn’t intimidated.
They were two alphas on opposite sides of the gender spectrum.
He could handle her. “I have never lied,” he snarled. “I have been very upfront about what I plan to do. And why.” Well, he reasoned with himself. He had told them his plans such as telling them helped him make those plans reality. He told them what they needed to know.
Finally, he turned to Pedro. “Let’s go and leave these two…love birds alone.” Pedro nodded, case in hand, and the two left Miss Welker and Noah standing at the now empty negotiating table.
As the door slammed shut behind them, Noah shuddered, and exclaimed, “God! That man reminds me of my father. Ugh.”
Miss Welker made a move to turn toward him as if to ask for clarification, when he cut her off mid-turn. “Don’t. Just…don’t.” He held up a hand to stave off any attempt at her questions. She pursed her lips together and a quick nod to show she understood.
Changing the subject, she took Noah by the arm, studiously avoiding looking at him, to turn him toward the exit. “Well, we have a plane to catch. Let’s go.”
Noah nodded like a confused child and let her lead him away from Ramon and his money. A haunting phrase his father had often said came to his mind. A fool and his money are soon parted. You and your grandfather are fools.
Shaking his head, he strained to dismiss the memory, and entered the RV. He went to his desk, and Miss Welker headed toward the driver’s seat. On the way in, he picked up the drum, and turned it in his hands. He wanted to examine every inch of it. Every stitch. Every mark. He tapped his fingers lightly on the taut hide pulled across the frame. Almost instantly, the earth shuddered. Had he done that?
He drummed his fingers again on the ancient device with just a little more force, and the tremors grew more intense. Noah was off his game from thinking about his father and the confrontation with Ramon. The rumbling of the earth in direct correlation to his drumming his fingers on the artifact didn’t help. Noah eyed the drum warily.
He set the drum back down beside his desk, and turned to his ledger. Time to organize his accounts and get his finances in order. With a sigh, he opened the big book and set about figuring out how he could grow his quickly dwindling funds—or at least paper over the cracks.
Thirty-Three
The sun was bright as Thomas left the medical tent. Its shine was an oxymoron to the scene before him. With the halting of further excavation or exploration, much of the camp had been disbanded and dismantled. Non-essential personnel had been sent home. Only a skeleton crew remained, plus all of Thomas Knight’s team to oversee the final details of its dismemberment.
As Thomas walked through the once busy alley and pathways, he saw only a hollow shell of what his camp had once been. It was like opening the last gift at Christmas, then looking around at all the crumpled wrapping paper. The sadness that came was just as intense as the high of anticipation. He always felt this way at the end of a dig. But for this one, the sadness went deeper. This one, he thought, had been cursed from the start. Stops, stalls, and death had permeated what should have been an exhilarating adventure into the past.
He spotted Dr. Cunningham loading a hover vehicle, and moved toward him. “Good,” he muttered to himself. “I’m bringing myself down. I need to talk to an actual person.”
“Need a hand?” he asked as he approached. Dr. Cunningham eyed his bandage warily. “Sure. But…are you up to it?” he asked indicating his side.
“I can help with the small stuff, I guess. But, I’ve got to do something. I don’t make a good invalid,” Thomas joked. Dr. Cunningham smiled and ushered him into the job. “We’re just loading up the crates with the relics that have been gathered. Well, the ones that are still in our possession,” the older man commented. “It’s not your fault, Thomas. It’s not anyone’s fault. You did what you could to get the drum. And son, you couldn’t possibly have foreseen the Kisgar fiasco with the Whipkeys.”
“I know all that, Don. But, thanks.” Thomas leaned forward and picked up a smaller crate to load in the floor of the hover vehicle. He couldn’t bend or stretch too much but, after some experimentation, he had figured out what he could do and what his limitations were.
“I’m sorry, Thomas,” ventured Dr. Cunningham.
“For what?” he asked as he loaded another crate. Two crates and he was already tired. He rested his arm for a minute as he and Dr. Cunningham spoke.
“That we had to cut this dig short.” Dr. Cunningham shrugged. “It just wasn’t safe. Between the Kisgar going berserk, the Woidnuk scattering, the tremors intensifying, and Noah…”
“What about Noah?” Thomas asked tremulously. “He’s gone. His camp burned to the ground.”
“Yes, but from everything Pediah, Abby, and Alexia have told me. Noah still has his eye on the prize. He’s just licking his wounds so to speak and regrouping, we suspect.” Cunningham eyed Thomas warily. Thomas had a particular score to settle and he wouldn’t let a little thing like a wound stop him. Not now. The doctor and the others had agreed. They needed to protect Thomas. From himself.
Donald Cunningham doubted it could be done. But, he’d be damned if he wouldn’t give it his best shot. As he lifted another crate, he smiled brightly, and changed the subject. “You know, Thomas. You should be proud!”
“Proud?” Thomas repeated. “Of?”
“Of the all the relics and artifacts you have discovered. Just on this dig alone regardless of the obstacles. It will do your name and your reputation good to be credited with these finds.” He gestured to the crates still at their feet and those on loaded onto the vehicle. A smile began to play at Thomas’ lips and his eyes twinkled, as he suspected what Dr. Cunningham was really thinking. “And…?” he asked.
“And it will add much prestige to my, er, the museum,” Dr. Cunningham admitted proudly as he puffed out his chest.
“That’s where I thought you were going,” teased Thomas. “What with all your talk of credit and reputation. That’s not really my M.O., you know.”
“I know, Thomas,” he said quietly. “That’s also why you are my favorite archeologist. You do it for the love of history and the importance of showing it to the world. You’re not in it for yourself at all. A quality that is extremely rare in our world today.”
“Aww…shucks, Don. You’re makin’ me blush.”
“Glad to see you’re in better spirits than when you first walked up,” teased Dr. Cunningham. “Humble to the end.” The older man snapped his fingers. “You know, Thom. You’re well over due for a holiday break. Why don’t you take this time and go on a vacation? God knows you need the rest and time to recuperate.”
“Vacation? Ha!” Thomas laughed.
Without missing a beat, and before Thomas could say more and try to beg off, Dr. Cunningham added, “If you need any suggestions on good vacation spots, I’d be happy to oblige. There a few I could recommend highly.”
“I know what you’re doing, Don,” Thomas began after a few minutes thought. “But, I’ve got some things in the works already.”
Dr. Cunningham put his hands onto Thomas Knight’s shoulders, and looked him square in the eye. “Thomas Knight!” he exclaimed to get the younger man’s full attention. “Look at you.” He looked him up and down. “You’re exhausted and malnourished. When was the last time you ate? You are scraped, bruised, and…” he looked pointedly at the latest bandage. “Now, most likely scarred both physically and mentally. I’m not saying quit. I’m saying take a break, son.”
Thomas was about to answer when a loud rumbling was followed by a tremor much more intense than any before. It was so sudden, neither man had a chance to get their balance. They both reached out simultaneously to steady themselves against the hover vehicle and leaned
against it as the earth continued to shake.
A second rumbling followed and instinctively, Thomas grabbed hold of the car door, thankful the window had been rolled down. “Hold on,” he advised. “I think it’s going to get worse before it gets better.”
“I wonder if it’s like when you count the seconds between thunder and lightning,” mused Dr. Cunningham. “You know. So, you can gauge how intense and how close the storm is.”
“This is no electrical storm, Don,” advised Thomas.
“I know. It’s how I cope,” the older man answered. “Say, if and when this subsides enough, do you want to ride back to headquarters with me in the helicopter?”
Thomas paused as he waited for the next tremor to surface. When it didn’t, he sighed in relief, and shook his head in answer.
“Thanks, but no thanks. I need to speak with Alexia first.”
“That’s my cue, then, I guess,” remarked Dr. Cunningham. “Okay, seems the tremors have stopped for now. So, I’m going to head out,” the older man said as he climbed into the hover vehicle. The sand blew in all directions as the engines spun up.
“Be safe, Don. We’ll see you soon,” Thomas said as he waved the man off. Just in time, too, he thought to himself as another rumble began to make itself known.
Compared to what he’d become used to though, this rumble was nothing more than a blip; more like a passing Chinook helicopter than an earth shuddering tremor. He was relieved, as he spotted Alexia and the others rushing toward him. Oh god, what now?
Alexia arrived first. She bent over to catch her breath. “What is it Alexia?” Thomas asked earnestly. “Did you find the information we talked about on Ramon and his company? Where are they?” his voice faded into a whisper as he looked up as the others caught up.
He grabbed her upper arms, as if trying to hold her up. Alexia shook her head and his heart sank. Another hurdle. Great.
“No,” she began. “That’s not why I’m here. I found…something else,” she answered.
“Something else?” Thomas repeated, a sense of foreboding once more permeated their small company. “Yes, and that is what has me on edge.” She looked behind her. “Us,” she said as she gestured to the others behind her. “On edge.”
Thirty-Four
Thomas looked behind her to Abby. “What’s going on? Alexia. Abby. Someone, please, talk to me. Tell me what this all about.” Alexia shook her head and deferred to Abby.
“It was something Mochni said,” she began, her voice wavering slightly.
“Abby?” Thomas was worried. She was fatigued beyond repair. They all needed to sleep for week to be back to their full selves. But, things just kept coming at them, giving them little time to pause and catch a breath.
“I’m okay. Just…worried,” she said swallowing her fears and adopting a passive expression. Thomas wished she wouldn’t reign her emotions in like that, he preferred it when she wore her heart on sleeve. Stoically braving whatever this dig threw at them had set everyone on edge and he knew she strained to cope. She looked around at the group – Robbie, Pediah, and Alexia who nodded for her to go on.
Abby sighed deeply and explained in a low voice, “It seems, that if the Kisgar are not contained or calmed somehow, they’ll continue to rampage underground. This rampage may cause Death Valley, this part at least, to sink or collapse. And Death Valley itself will rest only in ghost stories and the annals of time.” She stopped and pursed her lips. She didn’t want to tell him the rest of it, but he had to know. They all had to know because they had to figure out a way to stop it.
Thomas sighed. “What else?” he asked rubbing his temple. His head was throbbing. He was barely out of the hospital bed after he had barely survived a Kisgar attack. But, like the entire dig so far, things seemed to only be getting worse.
He almost laughed as Robbie nudged Alexia forward. To finish the tale and soften the blow, perhaps? Well, I’m glad those two have gotten a bit chummier. We need everyone to be able to work together amicably. Though he had yet to see signs of them not working amicably together. Whatever their differences, he reasoned, they stuffed them away to get the job done. For that, he was grateful.
“If the Kisgar continue to berserk and rampage below ground…we don’t know how far these tunnels go or how many more Kisgar there are. If this continues, it could spell a lot of trouble not just for Death Valley and California as a whole, but for Nevada as well.” Alexia stepped back. Her head was bowed. She didn’t want to look at him. She couldn’t. The last thing the poor man needed was more issues to deal with. But in classic Thomas Knight fashion, he spoke.
“And then two states will be in trouble. Not just a piece of one,” he summarized.
“Yes,” Abby and Alexia echoed softly, heads down, they glanced sideways at each other.
Thomas pinched his lips together. His fingers itched for his beard comb, but he’d lost it in the battle with the Kisgar. And the fresh shirt he now wore didn’t have a pocket. “Question. How did Mochni, and you all, come to this conclusion? What was the…catalyst?”
“It’s in the video,” explained Abby. “We need to get back to the comms tent so we can show you.” Thomas nodded as Abby turned on her heel to lead them back into the camp.
“Do we still have a comms tent?” Thomas asked, only half joking. Alexia rolled her eyes. “Of course, we do. That’ll be the last tent to go, short of our private tents. I thought you said you’d done this before?” she teased.
“Not exactly like this,” Thomas retorted, as he gestured to a camp less than half full of people and equipment.
“Point taken,” she conceded.
Thomas was glad for the banter as they made their way toward the comms tent. There needed to be some sort of release, or they would all crack from the strain. Dr. Cunningham had been right; he did need to rest and regroup. But, so did the rest of his team. He wondered if there would be time.
Abby held the flap open at the comms tent as Alexia entered first to take her place at the controls. Thomas followed. Then, Robbie, Pediah, and Abby brought up the rear.
A few keystrokes later, Alexia had found the video feed. As she worked the controls, Abby once more took the reins and explained how they’d come to their conclusion. “See there,” said Abby pointing at the feed. “This is a news report which shows Mustard Canyon.” She turned to Thomas, “Right about where Noah’s campsite was, isn’t it?” He nodded slowly.
“Right,” Abby continued. “So, this area apparently, Mustard Canyon, has already had several major land collapses in recent days.” She interrupted herself to explain, “I think it’s because Noah has the drum and being the mischievous child he is, I’m guessing he played the thing; which unleashed absolute chaos.” Thomas arched an eyebrow. “Anyway, those collapses have drawn the attention of the news media. And if the drum causes the Kisgar to go berserk and rampage and Noah played the drum, even if he only tapped a few beats on it, that would have been enough, Mochni told us…” her voice trailed off as she let the implications hang in the air.
Thomas let fly a string of expletives as the truth of the matter sunk in. When he had calmed down and the veins in his neck had settled to a dull throbbing, he took a full deep breath to steady his racing heart.
Like just a month before, Thomas paced the comms tent. But, this time, he wasn’t worried about a missing comms team. He was worried about the fate of people in two states. And if it could spread so quickly to those states, he reasoned, why not throughout the nation. His fears grew as he considered the repercussions. Or the three continents locked together in a land mass – North, Central, and South America. Could these Kisgar travel under water? He hoped not.
He shook his head violently to rid himself of such terrifying thoughts. He was still leader of this crew and, hurt or not, he still had to lead. He steepled his index fingers and put them to his lips in quiet repose as everyone watched him and waited.
“Okay, I’ve got it. Here’s the plan,” he began. “Well, it’s the m
ost obvious one really. We need to steal back the drum and figure out how it works. Because if it let their primal natures loose and contributed to the – what did Lt. Whipkey call it?”
“The Change,” offered Robbie. “And boy did they!”
“Right, so if Ecknom’s Folly can let them free, then maybe it can contain them, too,” he explained as he realized where Thomas was going with his plan. He rolled his eyes up to the skies, pleading with Gott to not let them get into yet another mess.
As Thomas had been talking, Alexia had been busy with her research. “Hey guys,” she broke into their conversation.
“What have you got, Alexia?” Thomas asked as he moved toward her. Taking his place behind her chair, he placed both hands on the back of her chair.
“Him. I mean. Ramon.” Alexia turned and beamed at Thomas. “We’ve got him. Or rather, his headquarters.” She leaned close to the monitor and squinted. She wanted to make sure she’d read the location correctly.
“Great. Where is he? Er, they?” Thomas asked.
“Mexico,” Alexia said, flatly. “Somewhere in Mexico. I don’t have an exact address. But, more like a radius.” She pointed to a blinking dot on the map. “He’s somewhere within 50 miles of there.”
“Great,” Robbie deadpanned. “I’m sure everyone will know just where to find the mercenary camp and will be willing to tell a bunch of gringos…”
Alexia glared at him.
“Hey, I didn’t mean…” he waved his hands in the symbol of truce.
“I know what you didn’t mean. But, still –“ she was about to tear the kid a new one when she decided there were more important things than bickering with him. She shook her head and turned back to the screen, as Robbie offered a soft, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, Robbie. I get a little…defensive, sometimes. But, we’ve got bigger fish to fry, don’t we?” she asked with a smile and a twinkle in her eye.
Thomas gave her shoulder a little squeeze as a thank you for restraining herself.