The Grey Ghost

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The Grey Ghost Page 1

by Nicholas Cara




  The Grey Ghost:

  The Shadow that Walks

  By

  Nicholas Cara

  Copyright © 2014 Nicholas Cara

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-1502845634

  ISBN-10: 1502845636

  To my Grandparents

  Who read this first

  To my Parents

  Who read this second

  To my Family

  Who rounded it third

  And to You

  Who are headed home to start page 1.

  Thank You.

  CONTENTS

  PART ONE: A HERO COMES HOME

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  PART TWO: A HERO STANDS

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  PART THREE: A HERO SHAKEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  EPILOGUE

  Special Thanks to Mr. Dan Paloski

  Editor aficionado, Friend extraordinaire.

  PART ONE: A HERO COMES HOME

  PROLOGUE

  Greece March 1941 -

  5 miles from the Rivers Eurota

  "Will you put this dribble down!" Jason barked at Roger grabbing the funny book from his hands. "The Professor is ready for us, come on!"

  The graduate student jumped to his feet to chase after his fellow adventurer, who was already on his way to the center chamber. "Is he pretty sure it's safe in there?” Roger called out to Jason in front of him.

  "Safe enough, come on you chicken," Jason called out running through the large stone-framed entrance. Roger saw Jason sprint around a corner in the direction he guessed headed to the center chamber of the labyrinth. Barely keeping up with his much faster friend, he heard him call back.

  "Don't stop now slow poke. Remember what the Professor always says, walking in the door is only the BEGINNING OF THE STORY!"

  Ignoring the clapping sounds of his student's approaching footfalls; Professor Harold Stone listened to the eerie silence of the ancient hall. "Will this tomb of granite speak to its namesake?" thought the professor with a weary smile. Never known as one to shy away from an idle conversation, the 60-year-old man was known at best to his colleagues as quite chatty. Once revved up he had the uncanny ability to wane away for hours at a time about possible discoveries, or other odds and ends of the lost worlds surrounding them all. Over the years, those "possibilities" were probably the most to blame for the lining of silver in his beard and remaining hair. Now however, he spoke not a word as he stood leaning against his cane, his tired frame staring into the darkened room at what could have been the greatest archaeological find of his lifetime.

  "Nowhere this dark and quiet is boring old man. There is a mystery here waiting to be found," he softly grumbled to himself after a few moments, trying desperately to calm the disappointment that he felt taking hold of his very thoughts.

  The Capstone State University expedition, a joint venture between the archaeology and the engineering departments to unearth η δέσμευση του πνεύματος (or as best the professor could translate "The Binding of the Spirit" Halls) had been, up to this point, a miserable failure. This labyrinth of halls built into the rocky side of the Taygetos Mountains in southern Greece was seen as a curiosity to the locals. A collection of stone relics and carvings used to elicit a few coins from naive travelers. So was the case when Stone visited five years ago in his travels of the area, before the unearthing of the door.

  "The unearthing of that doorway by what could only be considered sheer luck had made this simple tourist trap into one of the area's greatest discoveries since the ruins of Sparta itself. There is something here to find, and fate is calling out to us to find it," the Professor mused to himself out loud.

  "I just wish fate would've called earlier, before the war maybe?" Jason, the tall blonde haired graduate student groaned behind him. "This trip took years of planning between the departments and the battle to acquire its funding probably would make the shooting between the Germans and the Greeks look tame. And just like that, shazam, it’s gone because of this stupid war," Jason said while ducking his lanky fame under an archway.

  "Rosán sure didn't help in the expediency of that planning or funding," thought the Professor. Professor Mark Rosán, who was to head the engineering department's study at the site was not seen by Professor Stone as an adventurous soul or for that matter a willing participant to this expedition. Spurred on by the possible tenured professorship that a find like this could herald, Rosán never backed away from the limelight of the expedition. However, when it came to the actual meat and potatoes of the trip he always found a way to be "otherwise engaged."

  The shear feet of mapping this labyrinth of halls carved into the mountain rock would've kept both teams of archaeologists and engineers busy for the entire six months of the originally planned dig. However, nearly as soon as the team arrived at their base-camp news had spread throughout the region of the invading forces threatening Greece's boarders. Greek victories against the Italians all the way to Albania originally supplied a sense of false hope to the team; sadly recent reports of German advancements into Greece's territories had put those hopes to rest. It is expected that the combined forces of the German and Italian armies will seize control of the country within the month. Needless to say, an American expedition not being "welcome" at the time of an Axis occupation would be an understatement.

  A find of this significance dared Professor Stone to stay and test his fate with the invading forces. However, he understood that to put his staff at risk like that would be reprehensible.

  "Rosán, on the other hand had taken a different tack in dealing with his responsibilities. Who knew there was a yellow stripe on the back of that man under all of those terrible lab coats?" Stone thought darkly. Stone could only assume Rosán had caught wind of their new timetable while securing supplies in one of the neighboring cities earlier that week because early yesterday morning, he had been surprised by a few of Rosán’s students running into his tent with the incredulous news that the pompous Doctor had disappeared.

  "The little weasel ran off leaving his entire team of students and assistants stranded. I’ll have his hide for this!" fumed Stone after he had found all of the Doctor’s personal belongings cleared out as well.

  The Professor knew returning without a single article of value on an expedition this large was not going to make any of the university's investors happy. Because of the remoteness of the area, one the largest expense in the budget was already used simply traveling overseas to the site. And now with the six-month dig limited to this small three-week excursion, they simply hadn’t had enough time to find anything of value. The teams had barely started to catalogue the architectural structure and let alone inscribe the enigmatic entranceway. In terms of the dig’s planning they had not even walked in the front door yet. The abandoned Stone had halted all activities and started shipping students and equipment state-side immediately. The investor’s would have to bite the bullet along with the rest of them.

  On this, which would be the last
day of the expedition, the Professor had decided to break the dig's protocols and venture deep into the halls to its center chamber. Upon analysis of the angling nature of the walls and sloping gradient of the floors of earlier passageways, it was surmised that all of the halls converged into a central chamber. Armed with Jason Paloski, one of the two remaining graduate students, the Professor traversed the main hallways in search of the center chamber. Surprising to the small band, the chamber was not buried deep into the halls as originally theorized.

  "All speculation of the halls being a maze to keep the chamber isolated can officially be rebuffed. Might as well press on my boy, who knows what will still be here after those monsters have their way with this land," Professor Stone told Jason, sending him back to fetch his compatriot Roger Freeze who was breaking their camp.

  "Just think Professor… no one… has seen this room in centuries," Roger exclaimed making it to the entrance completely out of breath. "Once we cross this threshold who knows what the possible knowledge or… riches we may find."

  "Calm yourself Roger… breath my boy… we have no idea what could be in this room so let's not get too excited yet," the Professor cautioned the plump brown-haired young man.

  Bracing themselves against the ancient door, the three explorers forced it open flooding the dark chamber with their lantern light. Staring inside through the disturbed dust they found a single pedestal in the center of a circular shaped, otherwise empty room. Barren of any artifacts or wall carvings like its surrounding halls, the dark chamber laughed at their excitement of entering its threshold.

  "That's it?" cried out Jason throwing his hands into the air. "It's completely empty!"

  "Not completely. What is that on the pedestal?" questioned Roger focusing his lantern on a lone column.

  Roger went to take a step into the chamber when the Professor stopped him.

  "Wait son. I'll go. Keep the light on me," the Professor told both them.

  From experience on earlier expeditions the Professor had witnessed many a trap or other unseen hazard fall upon head-strong adventurers in chambers or as it felt tombs such as this one. Not wanting to put the two boys in any unnecessary danger, the Professor left them at the doorway as he carefully crept into the darkened chamber. Slowly testing every foot-fall before planting his full weight down with his cane, he painstakingly made his way through the chamber to its mysterious pedestal. Finally, after what felt like an eternity the Professor nervously reached the central pedestal. Placing his lantern's light on the top of the pedestal, the Professor spoke back to his students of his discovery.

  "It seems that there is a small chest on the top of the pedestal. It is no bigger than a large equipment bag," he called out to them.

  The Professor brushed aside ages of dust on the chest revealing a thick coating of wax covering the chest. There seemed to be no latch or lock securing the chest that he could make out.

  "It seems that the chest is coated and secured with a large coating of what I would guess is bee wax. I'm going to try to pry it open," the Professor reported.

  "Professor, do you believe this is wise?" Jason questioned.

  "My young lad, it’s why we all came here, isn't it?” the Professor responded. "My friends we are quite beyond all scientific caution.”

  Using his pocket knife the professor chipped and then hacked away the crusted wax coating over the seal of the mysterious chest. Smiling at his two students the Professor announced, "Now this is simply an adventure!"

  Slowly he started to lift the chest's lid. The lid tilting on hinges left unused for centuries produced a loud scratch of metal against metal that echoed in the chamber...

  Creeeaaakkkk...

  .

  CHAPTER ONE

  Creeeaaakkkk... Creeeaaakkkk... Creeeaaakkkk...

  Joe Bevine felt like he was in a ghost story, a tale of horrors that go bump in the night.

  Creeeaaakkkk... Creeeaaakkkk...

  Every movement was eerily slow as he was pushed down the dark corridor.

  Creeeaaakkkk...

  A piercing sound reminiscent of a ghoul slowly opening an old door in a haunted house, repeating, over and over, building and building until it was suddenly interrupted with a startling loud voice.

  "Welcome arriving passengers of Flight 7950 to Capstone City. You are arriving at Gate 5C; please see the Gate Attendant to direct you to the proper gate if you are making a connecting flight. If this is your final destination we would like to thank you for choosing United Air for your..."

  The rest of the announcement was drowned out with another loud Creeeaaakkkk... from the left wheel of his wheelchair.

  "I'm sorry sir. This was the only available wheelchair I could find nearby. If they had informed me of your arrival and the gate change earlier, I might have been able to make better arrangements," stammered the young man assigned to him by the airline, noticing Joe's irritation at the sound.

  "It's OK…" Joe never really caught his name, "Rick? Ricky?” he thought. Honestly, Joe really didn't care at that moment. The fact that he was being pushed like a child absolutely dependent on this boy and this wheeled monstrosity made Joe want to pull every single hair out of his head.

  "They couldn't put some oil on the wheels of this dumb thing?" Joe thought, his keen brown eyes looking down the rubbing metal of the right wheel and axle.

  Creeeaaakkkk...

  "Well at least they will hear me coming. Beware evil-doers, here comes the mighty warrior returned home...tremble before my wheels of doom!"

  And at that thought the right wheel of Joe's wheelchair jammed into the ridge between the tile and carpet of the ramp, nearly tipping him over to the side. "Whoa, I'm sorry sir, are you alright?" Ricky said.

  "I'm fine, I'm fine, just get this thing free!" Joe angrily replied. Biting his lip before he barked anything else, Joe thought back to how a younger version of himself before the war wouldn’t have been so testy with the young assistant. The younger version of Joe had always had a smile on his face and a whistle to his step. That was back when Joe had a step to whistle to. The young man reached over and tried to jerk the chair free. However, the wheel's rubber lip had jammed perfectly into the gap and the young man wasn't able to budge it.

  "I'm sorry sir but I can't seem, uh! To get it free," Ricky said over and over again as he yanked continuously at the wheel.

  "Joseph!" a loud voice called out. "You're not back for ten minutes and already causing trouble for this young lad. Ha!"

  Joseph followed the thunderous laugh to its owner, already knowing there was only one person who always greeted him with his full name that loudly. Standing in front of them was the commanding figure of Lt. Patrick Thomas. Standing over the young man, Patrick known to most as "Patsy" made the boney stature of the boy look even smaller. "Good to see you Patsy!" Joe beamed producing possibly the first small smile to wrinkle his face in months. "What is that on your head?" Joe asked looking up at the odd shaped decoration covering his friend's long ago bald head.

  "What this?” Patsy popped the brim of the black bowler on the top of his head. "It lets people see that I'm coming," he laughed as he reached down with his right arm and with one strong pull yanked the jammed wheel free. Another grin crossed Joe's face; it was laughable to think the 6-foot-tall man needed additional height to be noticed. "I've got it from my young lad here," Patsy chuckled, patting the assistant on the head as an owner would a little puppy.

  "Wow, he looks like a giant from down here," Joe thought as he gazed up at his former partner at the Capstone Police Department. Joe, a strong, well-built man who would usually stand with his head at least to the ear of his friend now cringed at the view of the tall officer from his wheelchair.

  Patsy had a much easier time pushing the wheelchair than the boy, which greatly minimized the creaking sound from the wheels.

  "It's great to see you Joe, you look...good ...healthy," he mumbled uneasily underneath his bushy mustache. "I honestly didn't know what shape you'd be in fr
om your letters."

  "Yea, that's me, the picture of health," Joe replied, the frown returning to his face. "Is she here or back at the house?"

  "At the house? Do you think I could get her to stay at the house? Buddy, I'd be in a chair right next to you if I had tried!" Patsy laughed. "She's down around Gate A where your flight was originally supposed to come in. We heard the announcement about a gate change but she figured we should cover both gates in case these mooks messed up their ABC's, and lucky me I won the kewpie doll!" Patsy laughed.

  Joe grabbed the side brake on the chair bringing it to a sudden halt.

  "Patsy, can I have your jacket?" Joe asked.

  "Why? You lose your Northern skin over there? Bud, its only 65 degrees. You must've froze over in Europe," Patsy questioned.

  "No... just...give me your jacket!" Joe begged.

  "OK, OK here,” Patsy groaned as he surrendered his large coat. Instead of putting it over his shoulders as expected Joe draped it across his lap, letting it fall over the front of the wheelchair.

  "Ah...Joe, I don't think she's going to have a problem seeing you. I mean, you don't have to do that," Patsy replied seeing why Joe had wanted his jacket.

  "I know she's a tough gal Patsy, but the fact she has to see me like this in this silly chair is bad enough. I'm not sure if...if I'm ready for her to see all of me or… what's left of me," Joe replied.

  Emotions ran through Joe as he sat there being wheeled by Patsy closer and closer to Gate A. "What am I feeling? Excitement? Worry? I've waited for this moment since leaving for boot camp but right now I sort of wish I was a thousand miles away," Joe wondered.

  Joe tried to straighten his tie and pull down his uniform jacket and found both simple actions to be incredibly hard while sitting down. Trying to make himself look presentable he pulled his cover straight on his head looking at the reflection in a passenger's metal covered trunk sitting in front of them.

 

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