God Stones: Books 1 - 3

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God Stones: Books 1 - 3 Page 27

by Otto Schafer


  “Maybe I can hack them off near the roots!” he shouted.

  More spirals dropped around them, twisting into the earth, cracking and writhing.

  “I’m going to just open the damn Ark!” her father announced. “Do you hear me, damn you? I will just open it.”

  The room quieted as the foliaged walls stopped shaking and the writhing tentacles slowed their erratic advance.

  Edward turned and stopped chopping.

  Paul looked at her. “This is a mistake, isn’t it?” he asked, his lips a tight line as he searched her eyes. “You said it hates us? This is a mistake?” Then his look became hopeful. “Bre, can you see any other way out of this?”

  She shook her head. How was she supposed to help? They had a gun and knives. She had nothing. All she had was a camera. All she could do was take pictures. All she could do was take… pictures? Pictures! Her eyes flung wide.

  She pushed Paul out of the way and stepped directly in front of the doorway. “Don’t open it, Dad! Get ready to run!”

  God, please work. Oh, please work.

  She raised her camera. She pointed it at the foliaged doorway and clicked the shutter. The camera flashed bright. The foliage shivered, recoiled, and glowed. She clicked it again and again. The vines started untwisting, trying to recoil, trying to get away from the bright flash.

  “It’s working,” her father shouted.

  Paul and Edward snatched the Ark from the floor.

  The shutter clicked and flashed, clicked and flashed.

  More tentacles burst from the floor between flashes, only to freeze up again and again.

  Finally, with only a few vines blocking their way, her father threw himself against the remaining tendrils as Breanne captured photo after photo of her father’s desperate attempt to break free of the room.

  Her father burst through the doorway and tumbled to the ground as Paul and Edward ran forward with the Ark.

  “Go, Bre!” Paul shouted, the tentacled thorns catching on his shirt sleeve, vying for purchase. He ripped his arm free, pressing for the door.

  Click, flash! Click, flash! She fingered the switch again and again until she was free of the room.

  “Keep moving!” her father said as he scrambled to his feet and led them back down the crevasse.

  They reached the water to find the soft glow of algae was gone, replaced by an angry swirl of yellow, orange, and red. The water didn’t boil but steam rose, creating a thickening fog that hung like smoke on a calm day.

  “Shit!” her father said as he bent to touch the water. “It’s hot, but I think manageable.” He stepped into the water where the color swirled orange. “Ahh. Dammit. I don’t think we can cross this!” Then the color swirling around his feet turned a bright red. “Gahh!” he shouted, jumping back out. “Nope, if the water turns red when we are submerged, we are screwed.”

  “We are not going to open the Ark!” Breanne shouted as loud as she could. “Do you hear me? Not here! We won’t do it here! And if you kill us, it will never be opened! Let us pass, and we will open it when we get out!”

  They stood there at the water’s edge for a long moment, watching the swirls of color.

  “I don’t think it is intelligent, baby girl. That would be absurd. It must be reacting to us trying to take what gives it life. This is something primal… something instinctual—”

  “Don’t call me absurd!” she shouted.

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Absurd is thinking this is God. This isn’t God, Dad! This is… I… I don’t know what. But it isn’t God. God wouldn’t hate us like this,” she said, her face contorted in confusion. “Whatever happens, we can’t open it here!”

  Charles nodded. “Okay, Bre. Okay,” he said softly. He turned and called out over the strange water, “You heard her! We won’t open it unless we are free to leave!” He shouted the words with no belief behind them.

  Paul said, “I think we are going to have to try and cross as quick as we can and just hope…” He stopped, caught by strange movement in the water.

  Breanne followed his gaze. The red water swirled away to the walls, leaving only orange and yellow swirling together but then apart. The orange moved next to the red on both sides of the chamber, leaving only a trail of yellow leading to the ladder.

  “For the record, Pops, I don’t think this is some instinctual reaction from an unintelligent lifeform,” Edward said quietly.

  “Then what on earth is going on here, Ed?” his father asked.

  “I think it’s time to go,” Paul said, stepping into the path of yellow water. “It’s warm but manageable.”

  They moved swiftly. Her brothers hoisted the Ark above their heads while making sure to stay only in the yellow water. Soon they all reached the ladder and were up and out as quickly as they could climb.

  Once through the chiseled hole, they sat catching their breath for a long moment.

  Finally, it was Breanne who was first to speak. “Sorry I snapped at you. I… I just want to get topside.”

  “It’s alright, baby girl,” her father said, smiling weakly. “Let’s get the Ark to the pit. Bre, can you radio Jerry and tell him we have what we are very confident is the Ark of the Covenant, and we’re bringing it up?”

  “Okay,” she said, snatching the radio from her gear. She turned on the radio, but before she could depress the button, the radio crackled to life. Static exploded, but nothing audible could be heard.

  “It must be the bedrock interfering with the signal. Let’s just get to the pit,” her father said.

  They all nodded.

  Breanne ran ahead, climbed the slope, then made her way through the tunnel and finally up into the pit. Once on the pit floor, the radio crackled again, and this time she could hear Jerry’s voice.

  “Come in, Charles, Breanne, can you hear me? Over.”

  “I can hear you, Jerry. Over,” Breanne said, shouting into the radio. She looked up and waved her arm wildly.

  Jerry’s silhouette appeared far above. He leaned out over the railing and waved back. “Have you recovered the Ark? Over.”

  The question took Breanne completely off guard. What? Wait… why would he ask that… how would he know?

  Before she could respond, Jerry’s voice came back over the radio again. “Listen to me, Breanne. Tell your father not to open it until he brings it up here. Over.”

  The bad feeling suddenly came surging back—not your common I don’t like the looks of this bad feeling, but a very bad feeling, sinking and sick, from somewhere deep within her.

  “Breanne, do you hear me? Over.”

  She did not answer.

  “Breanne! Come in, Breanne! Over!”

  She turned off the radio.

  Jerry’s voice echoed down the pit walls. “Breanne!”

  Now she was certain something was wrong.

  She turned to find her brothers and father climbing up into the pit with the Ark. Paul picked up the remote as Edward and Charles prepared to place the Ark in the basket.

  “What did Jerry say?” her father asked.

  “He said not to open it until you bring it topside,” she said.

  “Well, I don’t plan to. We should all be there when we open it.”

  Breanne took a deep breath. “Daddy, he told me to tell you not to open the Ark before I even told him we found it.”

  Everyone stopped cold, turning their attention to Breanne.

  “Well, he knew we hoped to find it. Maybe he is just being optimistic,” Paul said.

  She shook her head. “No. You don’t get it. It was the way he said it, like he was sure we found it. How could he know?”

  “What? How is that possible?” her father asked.

  “It isn’t,” she said.

  “We’re talking about Jerry here,” he said.

  “I don’t know, but Dad, something is wrong – something is so wrong, I can feel it in my heart!” Breanne said, almost frantically.

  Her father reached for her a
nd hugged her tight. “Now, baby girl, I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.” He tried to keep his voice steady, but he couldn’t mask the confusion underneath, betraying his calm.

  Paul and Edward shot each other a look that said, Logical, my ass.

  Reaching over to Breanne’s hip, her father unhooked the radio, turned it on, and depressed the button. “Jerry? We have found something here, and we are ready to come up. Over.”

  Jerry’s voice crackled back through the radio. “Don’t open the Ark, Charles. Just load it in the basket and send it topside. Over.”

  Charles bit his lip in thought.

  “What do we do, Pops?” Paul asked.

  “Well, let’s head up and see Jerry,” he said uneasily.

  Then another voice cracked over the radio. “Dr. Moore?”

  The voice was Jerry’s boss. He was here?

  “Place the Ark in basket and send it up.” It wasn’t a request. It was an order.

  Her father placed a hand on his brow and peered up towards the top of the opening.

  Breanne followed his gaze to the silhouetted man standing next to Jerry. She hadn’t known he was going to be here, and from the look on her father’s face, she guessed he hadn’t known either.

  Her father moved over to the center of the pit, waved his arm, and depressed the button on the radio. “We are ready to bring the Ark of the Covenant up. It’s light, so it shouldn’t be a problem for all of us to come up in one trip. We are loading it now.”

  The voice returned from the radio in a crystal-clear high-pitched cackle. “The Ark of the Covenant. Is that what you think you’ve found?” The laughter stopped as the voice changed to anger, as if someone had flipped a switch that controlled the man’s emotions. He spat harshly into the radio. “Listen carefully, Dr. Moore. Do not open it! I’ve waited an incredibly long time for this!” The voice quieted to a whisper. “Incredibly long.” There was a pause of dead space before the voice spoke again. “Now, place the artifact in the basket and stand clear. We are patiently waiting, Dr. Moore – do hurry.”

  The boys had set the Ark down on the floor of the pit, turning to their father for direction.

  Breanne’s hackles raised at the tone in the man’s voice. “Dad, this feels wrong – all wrong,” she said, her eyes pleading for her father to feel the same. In a moment of clarity she realized this wasn’t what it appeared to be, none of it was. She looked into her father’s eyes and could see the wheels turning. She could see him sorting it out, making a plan, and she didn’t like it.

  “How does he know it isn’t the Ark of the Covenant before he’s even laid eyes on it?” Edward asked, his face contorted in a combination of skepticism and confusion. “I agree, Pops, this is all wrong.”

  “They know way too much. Way too damn much,” Paul added.

  “Daddy, listen to me. That thing, whatever it is, it isn’t the Ark of the Covenant. It isn’t. It can’t be. I know you want it to be and I do too, but it’s not.” Breanne pressed her lips into a determined line. “Let’s just send it up. Let that man open it.”

  Charles’s eyes darted around the pit as if trying to find some way to gain control of the situation. The man standing over a hundred feet above had them at a disadvantage. Giving up on whatever train of thought he was pursuing, he chewed his lower lip before finally setting his jaw in determination. His face steeled, and Breanne knew he was about to take control. As soon as her father spoke her heart dropped like a heavy stone in deep water.

  “Stand back – I’m opening it!” He pushed the radio into Breanne’s hands as he rushed forward and dropped to his knees in front of the Ark.

  “Right on!” Edward said.

  Paul nodded and smiled in agreement. “Do it!”

  “Wait, Dad!” Breanne said, running forward to her father’s side. “Please! Don’t open it! Just get it topside first… please!” Her eyes were beginning to well with tears.

  In her heart, she knew it didn’t matter where the Ark was opened – she still would not want her father to open it. Let the psycho up top open the damn thing. For God’s sake, let Jerry open it, but not her father

  “Baby girl,” he said, smiling, “I love you. Now, trust me. We’ve worked too hard to risk something going wrong up there, and I just don’t trust that man.” He pointed towards the top of the pit. “Now stand back.”

  “Dr. Moore! Do not open it!” shouted the angry voice.

  Two golden rings were attached to the chest and two to the lid. Long rods were fixed through each of the four rings, securing the lid in place. He grabbed hold of one of the long golden rods and twisted it back and forth as if working the throttle of a motorcycle. The centuries-old rod slowly worked loose from its motionless state. He gently pulled, sliding the first golden rod through the rings, freeing it from the Ark.

  No one in the pit breathed.

  “One down, one to go.”

  Tears began to run down Breanne’s face as the feeling of dread overwhelmed her. After exhaling heavily, she drew in another deep breath and held it.

  Her brothers watched on in anticipation.

  Her father removed the other rod and sat it gently on the ground.

  The radio crackled to life, causing Breanne to jump. Jerry’s boss whispered, “Have it your way, Dr. Moore.”

  Breanne’s eyes went wide. “Please, Daddy. I beg you, don’t!” she cried.

  “Here goes,” her father said, and with that simple statement he lifted the lid.

  Instantly, the world changed and would never be the same.

  Breanne felt something in her mind fracture as her vision filled with white-hot light. The pain was instant and intense, as if a red-hot poker struck her brain – not from the outside but from the inside, from the very center of her mind. In the split second before she lost consciousness, she was sure her brain matter was being forced through her ears, eyes, and nose.

  This must be what it feels like to die.

  31

  Prime Focus

  Present day

  Petersburg, Illinois

  Garrett made his way down Snake Hollow at an easy run, heading towards Eugene’s place, the old Victorian. As he listened to the hypnotic rhythm of his feet softly thudding against the cobblestone, he contemplated the past several days. He needed this run. He needed to figure it all out, and the best way to come up with something that made sense was to run. Running allowed him to go inside himself to an inner place, his sanctuary. Best of all, getting there was easy. All he needed was his old, ratty pair of sneakers, the great outdoors, and a little time. This was the place where he formed his best ideas, found courage, and even solved what, to a young man, seemed like huge problems. But not today. No, not today. Today’s problem seemed to have no answer except to wait and see.

  He replayed the last week over and over, finally coming to two possible conclusions. One, he was becoming paranoid and losing his mind. Two, he was being lied to by at least his family and who knows who else. The latter worried him the most. God, I would rather be insane, he thought. Everyone was acting so bizarrely that maybe there was a third option. Space aliens had taken his family and those around him, then sent clones to replace them. He vaguely remembered a movie where this happened. This ridiculous thought retreated quickly, and he settled back on the more likely scenario. He was losing his shit.

  To top it all off, he had experienced the crazy forest fire dream again last night, and this time it seemed less like a dream and more… real. He shuddered now as he recalled the screams and the smell of burning meat and hair. He frowned, pressing his mind to remember as the blood pushed fast through his heart. In the dream he could feel the heat washing over him, choking his breath. Someone was there with him, he was sure. He couldn’t see the face, but he’d called out, hadn’t he? Someone familiar, he thought.

  Damn it all, he thought, sick of holding it all shut up inside himself. He needed to tell Lenny what was up, confide in him as he always had. Mr. B’s ring, the crazy dreams, and all th
is strange behavior from the adults. His only hesitation was his best friend might think he was crazy. Was he? Was all this in his head?

  More than anything else, this was the conclusion he needed to draw out of this run. Explain all this to Lenny and risk him thinking he had gone crazy or just keep it to himself. Approaching the driveway to the old Victorian, he had decided. They would test for second degree tomorrow, and afterward Phillip had promised to explain about the training. So he would wait then, till after the test. Then he would spill it to Lenny. He breathed deep but didn’t feel much better.

  Pinching his lower lip, Garrett waited for Pete at the foot of the driveway, pacing and contemplating. So much on his mind. The least of it wasn’t what they were about to do. He didn’t feel good about tricking Eugene, but they needed the other half of that book. A few minutes later Pete showed up.

  “’Sup Garrett,” he said.

  Somehow, seeing his friend’s bespectacled face calmed him, and he felt some of his anxiety slip away. “Pete, you ready for this?” he asked.

  “Yeah, let’s do it.”

  They ascended the stairs to a vast wraparound porch and knocked on the large ornate door of the old Victorian. Seconds later, Lilith promptly answered. “Well, hello, boys,” she said, smiling.

  “Hello, Mrs. Lilith, is Eugene home? I’m supposed to do some work in the basement for him today,” Garrett said.

  “Oh yes, dear, he’s already down there,” Lilith said as she ushered the boys across the threshold of the mammoth entryway.

  The boys shot each other a concerned look.

  “Peter, I wasn’t aware you were joining in the project today. It’s so nice to see you.”

  “Actually, Pete just came by to see Eugene. I’ve been bragging about his awesome collection of Native American artifacts. Pete’s hoping Eugene might show them to him.”

  “Well, that’s sweet. Why don’t you go on down in the basement and ask him? I am sure he will be happy to show off one of his collections. That man has more collections of odd things than a junkyard has junk,” she said, smiling softy.

 

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