The Return of the Titans
Page 3
He balanced himself on the edge of the tub and then watched as Wilson leaned his mop against the wall and fished in his pocket for something.
Wait a second, Justin thought. Didn't Wilson leave that mop downstairs?
The question faded from his mind as Wilson pulled what looked like a round, shiny black stone out of his pocket and handed it to the teen.
Justin looked at the stone curiously. It was oval and smooth with small veins of yellow streaking across it. On one side, a curious symbol was etched into the surface. It looked like a circle with three lines coming out of the top and a cross sticking out of the bottom. He held the stone and stared at Wilson.
“I want you to know something, Justin,” the old man said seriously. “I won't let anything happen to your mother.” He reached out and picked up his mop. At that moment, they heard a crash and Wilson turned quickly toward the front of the apartment. He looked back at the boy. “Count to three, then jump into the water.”
Justin just stood there, balanced on the edge of the tub. “What?” he asked.
“Damn it, lad, just do what you're told. Please! ”
“Okay Wilson. But for the record, I think this is crazy.” Justin's mind was whirling in confusion. They heard a crash against the front door again.
Wilson grinned. “I know lad, I know. Now, I'm going to head them off.” He gestured at the tub. “Get a move on. And take care, Justin. It's been nice knowing you.” The old man gave a brief wave then hurried out of the bathroom.
Justin just stood there baffled, and tried to think. What is going on? He looked down into the water. Why does he want me to jump into a tub? This is nuts. There was a third terrific smash on the front door. Justin was so startled, he almost fell into the water. Suddenly he heard Wilson shout. It sounded like a howl of rage. Then his mother screamed “Miles! No!” The hell with this, he thought and twisted around to step down from the bathtub. His foot slipped on the edge of the tub and he felt himself falling. He saw the water and tried to turn so that he would land on his back. He hit the water with a loud splash, and kept on falling.
Chapter 2
He was surrounded by water. Justin felt as though he had fallen into a deep well. Where was the bottom of the tub? He tried to hold his breath as he sank deeper. All he could see was darkness and the water became bitterly cold. His lungs were burning but he held his breath until he began to see flashes of light before his eyes.
Finally, as he was about to pass out, Justin gasped and drew in a great breath, expecting to suck in water. He knew he was going to drown. Instead, he began to cough and breathed in great gulps of cold air.
He was lying on his back in a dark and musty room. After laying there for a minute, breathing in great gulps, he sat up quickly. His heart was pounding with shock and his mother's scream still rang in his ears. He looked to the left and right wildly.
He was sitting on a rough stone floor in a small circular room. Several torches were hanging on brackets around the room, flickering from the walls which were also carved out of stone. Justin couldn't see any doors or windows.
He just sat and breathed until he felt a bit calmer. He realized that his clothing was dry, as if he had never fallen into the tub, but the ground was wet all around him. I wonder if I passed out? he thought. Then he stood up and turned around.
Standing before him was a massive statue. He jumped back, his heart in his mouth and then realized that the large form was not moving. The flickering light gleamed off of metal and he realized that the statue was made of bronze. It was a minotaur. He recognized the half-man half-bull figure from some of the old pictures that he'd seen recently. He narrowed his eyes and tried to make out the details in the moving torchlight.
It had to be ten feet tall at least. The arms and legs were bare and hugely muscled. The figure wore armor, intricately carved and over its shoulder it carried a large axe. But it was the face that caught Justin's full attention.
The bullish head was so minutely detailed that he could almost count every hair on the mane that flowed down from top of the head to the back of the figure. A ring that shone against the bronze like silver hung from the bovine nose and the eyes seemed to convey an almost human expression. Justin caught his breath. It was an expression of profound sorrow and grief. He felt his own eyes filling with tears as he looked at that face and turned away for a moment. He shook his head. I'm seeing my feelings in its eyes, he thought.
He looked back at the statue. The face now was just a face, blank like most statues he had seen. Yeah, I was right. Then he noticed a small archway behind the minotaur. The great figure was standing right against the exit and try as he might, Justin couldn't get around the statue to reach the doorway.
He sighed loudly. Great, he thought. How am I supposed to get out of here? He stepped back and stared up at that heavy face again. “I wish you would move, buddy,” he said aloud. His voice echoed around the small stone room followed again by silence.
Justin walked around the edge of the room, tapping the walls, looking for any cracks or seams that might indicate a hidden door or something. But the walls were solid and the only exit had to be the one behind the minotaur. Finally he sat down again in the middle of the room. He was tired and still shaken by his last memories of what had happened at home.
Was his Mom all right? What about Wilson? And what exactly had happened at the end? How had he gotten here, wherever here was. He had already noticed that the stone that Wilson had given to him was gone. And what was he going to do now? If he couldn't get around that statue, he would be trapped in this little room until he died.
He knew he should be more afraid than he was, but he just felt numb. It was all too much to process. He rested his forehead against his knees and just let his mind go blank.
A sound brought him back to reality. It was the sound of metal grating on stone. He looked around but the room hadn't changed. Or had it? He looked up at the statue and just stared. The two large eyes were no longer blank and unseeing. They were now two holes filled with red flame. He stood quickly and backed up until he hit the wall.
The massive head tilted down and stared at him. The fiery eyes narrowed and the minotaur brought its axe down off of its shoulder and held it in both hands across it's body.
Justin looked around but there was no retreat. He had nowhere to run. The statue lifted a foot and took a step forward. The archway was now clear but Justin knew that he couldn't slip by the monster without it grabbing him or smashing him with its weapon. He felt a sort of calm descend upon him as he faced his death. He swallowed and stepped away from the wall toward the minotaur. Then he just stood there awaiting his fate.
The statue stopped. It continued to stare but now Justin thought that he saw a look of puzzlement on that bronze face. It rested the axe on its shoulder again and reached out with its empty hand. Justin didn't move. The metal hand touched the top of his head.
He had expected it to feel cold and hard but was surprised to find that the hand was hot, almost burning as it touched him. He wondered for a second if it would have burnt him if he felt pain the way most people did.
The hand just rested on his head for a long moment. The minotaur didn't press down on him. In fact, the hand was strangely gentle, almost tentative. Then it was gone. The monster turned and stepped to one side of the archway. It turned again to face Justin and snorted. Twin jets of flame shot from its nostrils. And then it was just a statue again. The eyes were blank, the body was still. And Justin stood in the center of the room, shaking with relief.
He waited a moment but the statue remained still. So, with a last glance at the minotaur, Justin walked though the archway.
He was standing in a narrow, unlit hallway. A dozen feet ahead, the hall seemed to connect with another room, The light from that room was much brighter and steadier than the torchlight behind him. He walked forward and as he was about to enter the next room, he heard the sound of metal on rock again.
Justin turned around in time to
see the back of the statue again blocking the exit to the stone room. He shook his head and turned back toward the brightly lit room.
As he entered the new area, he realized that it was actually another corridor. But it was much larger than the narrow hallway he had just exited. The ceiling had to be at least twenty feet high and the walls were a dozen feet apart. It was also carved out of stone but the rock was smooth and almost polished. And the walls were decorated. Pictures had been carved into the rock. Pictures of people and animals and creatures from legend, like the minotaur.
Justin got closer to one wall and gazed at the carvings. They covered the entire surface. He looked down the corridor and saw that the pictures went on as far down the hallway as he could see. He looked at the intricate detail. Here were men fighting some sort of three-headed lizard. And over there was a scene of minotaurs in battle against giants.
The scenes flowed smoothly into one another and went on and on. He shook his head. How old was this place, he wondered. These carvings must have taken years to create, decades or longer. And the opposite wall was equally rich with pictures and carvings. It was overwhelming.
He noticed that instead of torches, there were iron baskets hanging from the ceiling every ten feet or so. Inside the baskets were some sort of glowing rocks. Justin couldn't see what kind of rocks they were or why they glowed, but they lit the corridor quite brightly.
He slowly made his way down the hall, stopping every few feet to examine another detail. He could have spent hours just exploring this one hallway. There were several doors made of iron along the corridor, reaching to the ceiling, Each one had a large symbol engraved on it and all were closed tight. Justin couldn't move any of them.
Suddenly he heard the tapping of footsteps in the distance. The hallway turned to the left up ahead of him and that's where the sound was coming from. He forgot the carvings and just stood there, waiting. His heart began to pound faster. Now what, he wondered.
The footsteps increased in speed, Someone is in a hurry, he thought. Or some thing. He remembered the minotaur and clenched his fists at his side, preparing for the worst.
From around the corner, a figure came into view. Justin stared. It was a woman. She was wearing a long, dark blue gown belted tightly at the waist and her gray hair was pulled back from her face.
As she saw him, her eyes lit up and she smiled. She reminded Justin a bit of his mother's great aunt Violet, who had died when he was very young. She had always been kind to him and he relaxed a bit as the woman strode up to him.
“I am so sorry, Mr. McLeod,” she said as she approached and stopped in front of him. They were almost the same height. “We didn't realize that you were coming today.” She shook her head and, taking Justin's arm, drew him with her back the way she had come. Justin just let himself be led, too confused for the moment to say anything. “It's been that sort of day, I'm afraid. Unexpected arrivals, attacks all over the world, and here we are, trying to keep up. It's enough to drive a body to distraction. Well, no need to think about that now.” She patted his arm as they turned the corner and walked down another hallway.
As far as Justin could tell, the walls here were just as intricately carved as the others. His guess at the age of this place increased. The woman chatted away as she guided him along. He was so relieved at meeting someone who seemed friendly and comforting that he wasn't really paying as much attention to her words as he was to the lady herself.
She was older, that much he could tell. Her kind face was lined with wrinkles but she moved with the vigor of youth. He tried to focus on what she was saying as he realized that he was staring at her. If she noticed his staring, she simply ignored it.
“Now, there's no need to worry, young man. We are here to watch over you and the others. And everything will be explained soon.” She patted his arm again and then motioned ahead of them.
Justin saw that they were approaching an intersection of sorts. To the left and right, large iron doors were set in the walls, while the corridor continued on into the distance.
“The others are in the Court, to the left. Come along now.” The lady continued to pull him along. Justin finally spoke up.
“I'm sorry, ma'am,” he said tentatively. “You know my name but I didn't get yours.”
The woman stopped abruptly, several feet from the doors. “Oh my goodness!” she said. “I'm so befuddled today. Honestly, if my head wasn't tied on, I'd lose it I'm sure.”
Justin grinned and felt himself calming down even more. “I'm Mrs. Mallon.” She held out her hand. “And I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. McLeod.”
Justin shook her hand. She had a very firm grip. “Please, Mrs. Mallon, call me Justin. I'm not old enough to be mister to anyone.”
She shook her finger at him but smiled at the same time. “Respect knows no age, Mr. McLeod.” He just looked at her and raised an eyebrow slightly. She chuckled. “Justin,” she said. He nodded. “But we must be formal in front of the others, so it's Mr. McLeod for the moment.”
Mrs. Mallon took his arm again. “Now, we have to get on. You are the last arrival today. At least, I hope so. And like you, everyone is anxious to know what's going on.”
They reached the large iron doors and turned to face the one on the left. Beside the door, a small round stone was inset into the wall. Justin was reminded of the rock that Wilson had given to him. Like that one, this stone had a symbol carved into it's surface. This one was a simple picture of a square with a cross in the center. Mrs. Mallon reached over and tapped the stone lightly.
The iron door swung inward quietly. Justin looked but no one had opened the door and he could see no mechanism that could make it move. It was simply a heavy iron door. He shrugged slightly. Another mystery to add to the rest.
They walked through the doorway and entered an enormous space. Justin stopped and stared. It was the size of a cathedral. The vaulted ceiling was so high that it was partly hidden in shadows. The walls were again covered with carvings but the first ten feet or so were masked by hanging cloths that were stitched into murals of amazing colors and designs. Heavy wooden tables and chairs were scattered around the area in groups of three or four.
Justin looked toward the front of the room and saw a gathering of people. Mrs. Mallon led him forward and, as they approached, Justin could see that there were a bunch of young people, most of whom seemed to be around his own age.
They were sitting or standing alone or in small groups. There were about thirty teens and perhaps a dozen adults. The adults were either talking to various teenagers or just making their way slowly through the crowd, patting this one or that one on the shoulder or offering a whispered comment as they moved. Justin noticed that most of the adults were older, like Mrs. Mallon and wore simple yet elegant clothing.
Near the far wall there was a low dais that extended halfway across the width of the room. A long desk and chair stood upon the platform and seated in the chair, glancing through piles of notes, was a man. Justin looked at him and became fascinated by what he saw.
The man was wearing what Justin believed was called a frock coat. His white shirt was tied at the neck with an intricately knotted string bow tie. His black hair was quite long and was tied back. He reminded Justin of pictures he had seen online of gentlemen from the time of Charles Dickens.
As Justin and Mrs. Mallon approached the group, the low murmur of conversation stilled and people began to turn and look at him. He felt his face redden and he ducked his head. Mrs. Mallon patted his arm again and steered him to a seat at a table near the dais. When he sat down, she walked to the platform, stepped up and went to stand beside the seated man. He glanced up and she whispered in his ear.
The man glanced down at Justin, then looked at Mrs. Mallon and smiled. He whispered something back and waved toward the back of the room. She turned away, descended from the platform and walked past Justin. She smiled at him and he turned to see her leave the hall.
He suddenly felt very alone and cautiously
glanced around. Most of the others had resumed talking after he was seated but one boy, sitting at the same table, was staring at him. When Justin met his eyes, the boy grinned.
“Hi, I'm Aaron. How ya doing?”
Justin shyly returned the smile. “I'm okay, thanks. I'm Justin.”
“Cool. Good to meet you.” Aaron stood up, walked around the table and sat down again beside Justin. He pushed his long blonde hair out of his eyes impatiently. “Are you as freaked out as I am about all this?” he asked as he waved his arm to indicate the room around them.
Justin nodded. “As least. Maybe more. It's too weird.” He looked toward the man on the dais, who was again scanning through the pile of papers and lowered his voice. “Any idea who that is?”
Aaron shrugged. “He hasn't said a word to us since I got here about an hour ago. I guess he's the boss. At least, all the other adults talked to him as they brought each of us in.”
The man had returned to scanning the pile of notes in front of him. Justin looked at him for a moment then glanced around the room.
He was fascinated by the tapestries hanging from the walls. He saw figures hurling thunderbolts, flying horses and lions, men and women waving swords and much, much more. Like the carvings in the hallways, every inch of space seemed crammed with details. Between the hangings, iron brackets held more of the glowing stones that he had seen on the ceilings in the halls. These lit the room as brightly as daylight.
Aaron nudged him lightly. “I think something's happening,” he said and nodded toward the dais.
Justin looked over as the man at the front stood up, walked around and leaned lightly on the desk behind him.
“Welcome. My name is Alexander Fitzgerald. I am the head caretaker of this facility.” He waved his hand, indicated the room around them. “We are called Guardians and the name of this place is Sanctuary. You have all been brought here because you were in imminent danger.” He hesitated a moment. “This was a drastic move on our part. None of you were meant to enter here for another ten years or more. By then, you would have been adults and able to make an informed choice as to whether to join us here or not.” He shrugged. “But that choice was taken from you, and us, by our mutual enemies. So here we are. I know that you all have a thousand questions. And many of you are in shock, although you probably don't know it.” He indicated a man wearing a gray suit and round glasses that was standing to one side of the dais. “Doctor Smythe will be available to any of you should you need his services. If any of you feel ill, or dizzy or have any concerns at all for your health, please don't hesitate to call on him at any time.”