by Otto Schafer
“Hey, you okay? You were moaning in your sleep,” Lenny asked, pushing himself into a sitting position from his nest on the futon.
Garrett didn’t respond. The details were there somewhere, teasing at the edge of his mind. His eyes darted back and forth as he tried to grasp them, but it was no use. He could only recall the fire – Jesus, the fire.
“Must have been some bad dream. You were making all sorts of noises and talking in your sleep.” Lenny gave Garrett a questioning look.
“Yeah, I guess so, but I can’t remember much of it,” he said, still trying to catch his breath. “What did I say?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t make anything out, but it sounded like you were talking to someone.”
The nightmare left Garrett feeling like there was something he was supposed to know or do. Kind of like the feeling he got when he knew he was forgetting something. The feeling hung with him all the next day, gnawing at the back of his mind like termites through rotting wood.
24
Fourteen Seconds to Adventure
Present day
Oak Island, Nova Scotia
“Bre, come join me, please,” she heard through the camper wall. That’s odd, she thought. It should be time for his call with Sarah. She was pretty sure tonight was a call night.
“What’s going on, Dad?” she asked as she entered his camper.
“Sarah has big news – I want you to hear this,” he said, motioning for her to sit.
“Bre! Hello! How are you?” Sarah asked. “I hope you are keeping your father in line.” She laughed.
“Sarah! So good to hear you,” Bre said. “I am good and, yes, trying to keep him in line. How is the weather in Mexico?”
“Hot as hell. Okay, you two! Let me get right into it. It has been one hell of a week. First of all, the cave is extraordinary!” Sarah’s voice was animated as it burst through the static connection they had learned to ignore during their late-night phone chats.
“But I don’t understand – I thought you would still be clearing it?” her father asked, shaking his head. “You mean you found some of it still intact?”
“Oh! Even better than that, Charles! The entire lower structure seems to be completely undisturbed, including the spiral staircase. It was only the upper portion of the cave that was destroyed – everything beyond the lintel was untouched!” she announced, with all the jolliness of a child who had just been told Christmas would come early this year and presents would be doubled.
Her father looked at her, speechless, before finding his voice. “The statue? And the skulls?”
“What about at the top of the stairs? The pottery and the lintel? Did any of it survive the collapse?” Bre asked.
“Slow down, you two,” Sarah said with a laugh. “Yes to all your questions, as far as I can tell. Let’s start with the archway. When we were finally able to widen the opening, clear the debris, and brace the cave, we discovered the lintel was cracked in half, but we were able to brace it too. The pottery didn’t fare so well. All the pieces were damaged and some crushed completely, but one piece was left unharmed – it is beautiful!” she said.
Breanne could practically hear her smiling, even through the satellite phone.
“It was just as you described it. I want to get in there and investigate, but we’re being extra cautious after what happened to you two.”
“I just can’t believe after that collapse the lower chamber is intact. I wasn’t expecting that at all,” Charles said in disbelief.
“You know, the lower chamber being intact really doesn’t surprise me now that I understand what happened to you.”
“What do you mean?” her father asked, elation giving way to curiosity.
“Well,” she said with a sigh, “the day of the collapse, you were convinced you’d set off some sort of booby trap, but honestly, what you described, with the sinking tile and the click sound, was so unheard of that the more likely scenario, at least from the viewpoint of my team, was that the collapse was a natural occurrence. Further, the majority of my team’s opinion was that the sound you heard preceding the collapse had a logical explanation.”
Her father furrowed his brow. “So, what did your team think I heard?”
“Maybe the first stone falling as the cavern became unstable, but it doesn’t matter, Charles. I believed you – and you were right.”
“I was?” he asked in surprise.
“The whole ceiling in the upper chamber was designed to collapse. All those tons of stone were strategically placed on the ceiling of the cave. Then, through mechanical means, the ceiling was designed to fall should the switch be triggered.” She paused, waiting for his response.
“That’s impossible,” he said. “I mean, I expected you to tell me you found something that caused the cave to collapse, but now you’re telling me the entire ceiling was false? How in the world could they have possibly lifted the stones into place and held them there?”
Exhaling, Sarah said, “I know, right? It’s amazing! I don’t have all the answers yet, but we can see that the rocks did not break away from where they fell. Further, there is some kind of mechanism on the upper walls, near what would have been the false ceiling. Whatever you stepped on triggered the retraction of a cog, a sort of lynchpin that was keeping everything in place. Whatever it was, being pulled or broken created the chain reaction of the collapse. Imagine the entire ceiling was one giant Jenga puzzle, and when you stepped on the tile it triggered the pulling of that one single piece that brought the whole thing down.”
They could hear Sarah rustling around as though she might be climbing into her cot.
“I can’t imagine the difficulty someone went through to create such an elaborate trap,” Breanne said.
“You both should have been killed, but lucky for you the creators didn’t count on the shortcut out of that tunnel or what time might have done to slow the mechanism. If you had to follow the tunnel the other way, you would have been crushed for sure.” She added, in a grave tone, “You were really lucky, guys.”
Breanne and her father shared a knowing look.
“Please be careful in there, Sarah,” he said. “I could never forgive myself if something happened to you.”
“I will, and once I can get a closer look at the giant statue and the skulls, I can give you more information on which of the gods he represents, and hopefully we can figure out who our creators are.”
“That sounds great. We look forward to it,” he said.
“Charles, why don’t you come here and join me? We can explore this together. I don’t understand what you could be doing that’s more important than this discovery. You should be here with—” She stopped short.
Breanne’s eyebrows raised.
“I want to, Sarah… I really do, but you have to continue without me. And I promise, this is almost over, and then I’m on the first flight to you… I mean to the site. I’m on the first flight to the site,” he said, slapping a hand to his face.
Breanne giggled. “Sarah, it was great to talk to you, and I can’t wait to see you. Hopefully, on my first break from school, I will be able to come to Mexico and see what you guys have uncovered.”
“Oh, Bre, I look forward to it!” Sarah said, as the rustle of her blankets filled the phone with static.
“Me too.” She smiled.
“Okay, then, until tomorrow? Same time, same place?” he said.
“Same time, same place. Oh, and Charles?”
“Yes?”
“Whatever you guys are up to… please, be careful.”
“Of course. Good night, Sarah.”
Once again, the Moores rose before the sun and began preparing for the day. However, on this particular morning, Breanne noticed her family seemed to be having as much trouble waking up as she was. They staggered around the camp like zombies, each of them looking just as exhausted as they had the night before. Maybe their sleep had been as restless as hers. Did they have nightmares? Or was their sleep on
ly disturbed by fanciful dreams of treasure, priceless artifacts, and Templar secrets? To ask was to invite questions she had no interest in answering and, thus, she could only wish for such dreams, for to close her eyes was to slip into horror.
Last night she had been plagued yet again by the nightmares, tormented by a phantasmagoria of ash and ruin. What she remembered most was fire, cutting screams, a familiar voice from an old friend she did not know, and the bitter tang of things charred. She twisted her knuckles into her eyes, unsure she had actually slept at all. Something had to give and give soon. She needed off this island, away from this place, before… she didn’t know. She just knew they had to get to the end.
Restless sleep or not, the mystery of the altar awaited, and it seemed the only way out was through. Breanne made her father a large mug of coffee to help him lift the fog of sleepiness.
“Thank you, baby girl. I didn’t sleep well after our talk with Sarah. Too much excitement for an old man, I guess,” he said, pulling a noisy slurp from the mug.
After breakfast, the family geared up and headed over to the pit site. For now, only Paul would be descending into the pit. The rest of the Moores would wait up top along with Jerry, who was now directed to stay on site and report any new developments as they were happening.
From what Breanne understood, Paul would be operating the crane remotely from below, taking position behind the excavated rock pile they had pulled from the tunnel. In theory it should give him a safe place to listen from in case the cable started to destroy the wood tunnel or rip the pulley from the bedrock.
Paul and Charles had done some quick calculations last night and concluded that they would need to pull the stone altar approximately seven feet to ensure they had completely moved it from its current location. However, they also didn’t want to pull it across the entire space and end up blocking their entry. Paul was running the crane at a speed of six inches per second, so he should be able to move the stone the required seven feet in approximately fourteen seconds.
It was the moment of truth. With everyone in position, Edward radioed Paul. “All clear for go.”
“Copy that,” Paul said. “I’m in position behind the rock pile. Here we go.” The cable tightened as a loud groan emanated from the tunnel.
Paul’s voice crackled through the radio again as he began to count. “One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand…”
As the cable retracted, the sound of wood flexing evolved into sounds of splintering and fracturing. At first Breanne thought she was hearing the sound coming through the radio, but then, as the horrible noise got louder, she realized she was hearing it from the pit, a hundred and fifty feet below.
“Six one thousand, seven one thousand, eight one thousand…”
A loud screech resonated sharply above the noise of splintering wood, and for a moment the cable bounced violently, going slightly slack before tightening again. “Shit!” Paul cried, interrupting the count.
“Paul!” Edward called over the radio.
His voice came back. “Twelve one thousand! Thirteen one thousand! Fourteen one thousand!”
The cable stopped and everything fell silent.
Breanne was silent, too, the only sound her pounding heart and rapid breathing. After a moment the radio crackled, causing Breanne to jolt reflexively.
“Hooah!” Paul shouted.
“I take it you’re okay down there?” Edward asked.
“Roger that – I’m okay. Let me check the structure. Stand by.”
Her father grabbed the radio from Edward. “Do not, I repeat, do not go down in that tunnel until I am with you! We don’t know what condition it’s in now, or if it’s structurally safe. It sounded like the whole damn place was coming apart, even all the way up here.”
“Okay, Pops, chill out,” Paul said. “We need to let the dust settle anyway. I will unhook the disconnect and attach the basket.”
Twenty minutes later, the Moores were gathered in the pit. Paul entered first, followed by his father, then Edward. Despite her clear disagreement, Breanne was forced to wait outside the tunnel until the all clear was given. This is such bullshit, she thought. As she watched her family disappear into the floor of the pit, she considered throwing out that making her stay behind was completely sexist, but then decided not to push her luck. After all, she was in the pit and soon enough, once deemed safe, she would be at the altar. She positioned a piece of plywood next to the edge of the pit and sat down with her back leaning against the cool dirt wall. As exhaustion overcame her, she found herself thinking about the crazy nightmare that haunted her sleep last night. As she tried to pull something else from the shadows of her mind, she slipped into unconsciousness.
She woke somewhere else, surrounded by a raging fire – everything around her burned. After a moment, her surroundings came into focus… trees. I’m in a forest fire? There was only one direction she could go, but she was unable to see where it led. Now she heard something else, something besides the roar of burning forest. It was screaming. Someone was screaming. No, not someone – people… oh God! People were screaming! Burning! People were burning! She couldn’t see them burning – but those guttural screams! I’m in the nightmare. This is a nightmare and I am here, really here.
She looked to her left as a crowd of people broke from the forest edge, all of them running, burning, falling, and dying. She pinched the skin on the back of her hand and it hurt. She pinched harder, digging her nail in, and it really hurt. She looked up ahead, in the only direction she could go, and someone came into view. She ran towards the person, but she couldn’t close the gap. The silhouette suddenly stopped and turned. He was wearing a white robe with a red cross on the front. She knew then, not who he was, but what he was. He was the Templar Knight from the cavern, but he wasn’t a skeleton – he was a man. As he gazed upon her with crystal-blue eyes, his smile was warm behind a thick carpet of grey beard. Then he turned his attention to the flames, and his smile faded to a grave expression. He extended an arm, pointing at the flames.
Breanne tried to speak, but no sound came out. Her world roared as if a tornado was bearing down.
The knight’s mouth moved, but his words were drowned beneath death screams and howling flames.
“I can’t hear you!” she tried to shout, but the words were snatched from the air as soon as they left her mouth.
The knight pointed. She followed his gaze and could see someone else, but he was just a shadow. She thought he was a boy. Did she know him? She wasn’t sure. She turned back to the knight, but now he was far away from her. She turned back to the shadowed boy, but the way she had come was closed off with fire and the shadowed boy was gone. She was trapped! Flames grew, springing up all around her. She felt the heat as the flames lashed out like a venomous snake striking her skin! She watched helplessly as the skin on her right arm and shoulder blistered. She screamed as the greedy flames laughed. Oh, help – please, Daddy, help! A deep voice spoke, but all she could hear was pain.
Then suddenly, she awoke.
Gasping, she jolted upright, pulling her shoulders off the wall as she grasped at her arm. Then she heard it – faintly. Someone spoke in her mind… Or the world will burn!
“Come on, Bre, let’s go. Out here napping like you got all the time in the world to burn,” Edward said, his head seeming to float just above the tunnel.
Her heart was pounding as she tried to recall the first part of the whisper in her mind… but it was no use. Her vision cleared, and she could see her brother’s head wasn’t floating at all, only poking up from the tunnel.
“Bre, it’s all clear – let’s go!” he repeated, grinning like a fool. “Adventure time!”
Breanne jumped to her feet and quickly realized the arm that had been burned in her dream had fallen asleep and was now waking up with a pins and needles sensation. Maybe that’s all it was, she thought. My arm fell asleep, I had a bad dream, then I heard Edward calling to me in my dream. That seemed very logical to Br
eanne, and Breanne liked logic, she trusted logic – as a highly intelligent young woman with a very analytical mind, she needed logic.
She grabbed her camera from atop the sawhorse and draped the strap over her head and jerked her helmet on over her braids.
“Bre,” Edward said, his hand appearing from below to point a finger. “Why is your hand bleeding?”
She looked at her hand and the trickle of blood running down the back of it. Had she pinched herself for real during the nightmare and somehow not woken up? That was the only thing that made sense. But did it really? Maybe it was all the result of exhaustion? “I think I scraped it climbing into the basket when we came down – it’s fine,” she lied, wiping the back of her wrist on her pants. She sat down, preparing to enter the hole, and noticed the pins and needles from her other arm were gone. Now her arm felt like it had been really burned. As Breanne descended into the tunnel, she felt keenly aware she was losing her grip on logic. The fabric of reality seemed to be blurring, and for the first time since Mexico she was truly scared.
25
Dagrun
Present day
Petersburg, Illinois
“Lenny, you used that line on Tabitha and she still said yes? I’m surprised she didn’t slap you in the face,” Garrett said, stuffing his backpack into his locker and slamming it shut only to find Jack standing too close.
“So, what did you guys find out about the book?” he barked loudly, seeming not to have a care who heard.
“Jesus, Jack, keep it down. What, do you want the whole world to know?” Garrett said, his voice hushed.
Jack pulled a face. “Shut up and just tell me what you found out.”