Kira had apparently mentioned something about Al’s abilities to her father. The Avalonians now believed the Kuthra gave up being gods to live on Avalon, despite everything the humans did to try and dissuade them. To the Sansi, though, Al was still a God—a part time God.
“I don’t think that will be necessary, but I understand your fears and will take your warning to heart. I’ll do everything I can to keep everyone safe.” Al could promise no more than that.
In the beginning, the going was relatively easy. They could see the next blockage at the far end of their torch beams, and headed toward it. The cave passage was twenty feet wide and allowed them to walk side-by-side over a thin layer of dust covering the floor, which left tell-tale footprints behind them as they went. The passage became darker and quieter as they progressed, and their soft speech echoed back and forth around them.
“This would be a good place to tell ghost stories,” suggested Mr. Slade. “I think I just saw a ghost behind that boulder.”
Timothy Slade resembled a big teddy bear. Six foot four and two hundred and fifty pounds, his full beard only added to the illusion. He didn’t say a lot, but when he did, it was usually in the form of a joke. Tim didn’t seem to take anything seriously. “I hope it’s not one of you ancestors Kira.”
The other members of the party laughed half-heartedly. Kira did not laugh or even smile.
“You must respect the dead. It is when you mock them that they become angry.”
“I’m sorry Kira, I was trying to lighten the mood,” he explained.
“Much has happened in this holy place. The spirits of my ancestors surround us, and you are disturbing their rest. It is not time to be funny.”
Timothy Slade decided, for the time being, to keep his jokes to himself.
The dust got thicker and more compacted the further in they moved, and their movements liberated particles from the floor, raising small clouds to float in their flashlight beams. They moved forward until a wall of rocks and boulders blocked their progress, and the use of mining charges were required to proceed further.
Al and the captain helped dig a hole as far under the barricade as they could and then retreated to the safety of the opposite wall, as far away as possible. Chris set the timer on one of the packages at fifteen seconds, pushed it into the hole, and then hurried to join the rest of his team. They huddled on the floor for protection from the explosion, covering their ears, with their backs towards the blast.
The blockage exploded, and created a cloud of dust. From the far wall, torchlights pointed into the opening as the debris settled.
Carefully, they crept up to the hole in the wall, trying to force their flashlight beams to show them the inside. To their surprise, the floor of this new section was twenty feet below them, and their torches were not powerful enough to see the far end of the chamber. A soft glow emanated from some form of moss on the lower portions of the walls, giving the room a green luminescence that did little to assist in illuminating its contents. There were dusty cobwebs everywhere.
They drove steel climbing pitons into cracks in the floor and one by one, they repelled down to the uneven bottom of the new cavern.
The floor had caved in, leaving a broken incline of rock leading gradually up to level out at the other end. The ceiling was too high to see which left a suffocating darkness above them. Their path was only thirty feet wide, and with the insufficient light beams stabbing at the darkness, it seemed they were actors in a giant theater, a dim spotlight following them through a huge make-believe set.
“Stay close together. I don’t like the looks of this place,” warned Al.
Chris instantly replied, “You don’t have to tell me twice.”
The captain nodded agreement, and Kira said a quiet prayer; too soft to understand.
Al went first, making a path through the cobwebs, with some still fresh enough to be called spider webs. Occasionally, they would step over the remains of various sized rodents. The soft plink of dripping water could be heard in the distance, augmenting the ominous silence. The webs became thicker and stronger as Al went forward until he was forced to hold his hands over his face to keep going.
When the creatures that lived here came down from above, they made no sound. The team members were constantly looking forward and up—but were still caught off guard.
The captain was the first to spot them, “We have spiders above us.”
Exposed in the beam of his light was a specimen from another world. A spider three feet across, with a body, at least, a foot around. Thick black fur covered its body, with incredibly large eyes, four-inch pincers, and eight long hairy legs; and he was not alone. Their beams lit several that had worked their way down from the darkness. All of them silent and deadly.
The oversized owners of the trap were gathering above Al and were spitting web material down on top of the struggling human, trying to lock him into their fibers. When Al discovered he could neither go forward nor back, he quickly decided it was time for desperate measures.
“Go back,” yelled Al. “I’m stuck, and I am going to have to do something about it. Get back up to the last cavern until I call.”
The other members of the expedition retreated leaving the sheriff alone with his assailants.
He whispered, “Sorry Elizabeth,” and then muttered, “The metal of a man is measured by what is inside.”
The webbing had immobilized him, and he could not move his arm enough to reach his handgun. It made little difference after he changed. Sweet power hummed in his body, and when he opened his eyes, he could see the full extent of their predicament. At least a dozen similar sized creatures hung above him, some strengthening their web, and others waiting patiently for the kill.
The power icon in the periphery of his vision read twenty-two percent, and it was flashing on and off. He paid little attention to the decreasing red bar, turned around, and started walking backward up the broken rock, firing his laser pistol at the surprised spiders above him. He could see each and every giant bug as they tried to skitter away, and they died before they realized the tables had turned.
One made it all the way down to land on his head, and Al had to use his free hand to knock it off him. He shot it as it tried to get up.
He dropped the flashlight from his hand, no longer needing its help, and it lit the spiders as they fell into the trap they had built for others, creating giant shadows on the walls of writhing, dying bugs.
He made it up the ramp to the end of the collapsed cave floor and almost to the end of the tunnel before he realized the fight had gone out of the oversized insects, and the survivors had run up to hide in the dark.
He stood looking back at the carnage he had created, and softly said, “Wow.” He did not feel sad about the creatures he had just killed. One of his jobs was to clear the way for future excursions and having huge spiders blocking the path simply would not do.
“Okay,” he yelled, “I think it’s all right now.”
He met the rest of his party about midway in the passage, having already relinquished his powers. Al would have preferred to stay in enhanced mode, but the flashing indicator now stated only twenty percent power remaining, and he was becoming concerned. Until he receives a new power pack, his powers would have to be fleeting and too quick to savor.
Al was in search of treasure for the betterment of all. The material they searched for was precious to both the colonists and Al, and he knew that machines would need to be brought in to get it out. The way in and out must be clear.
****
Kira ran up to him and said, “Are you ok? I cannot believe what I almost did not see. We could see your light stick fall and your weapon firing into the giant monsters. Did they hurt you?”
Al was feeling the letdown, like recovering from a strong narcotic, but he smiled and replied, “I’m okay Kira—they never even got close. No worries.”
The captain passed by them ready to move on and whispered, “We can talk later, right now l
et’s get out of this place. I still have goose bumps.”
“I second that. This place can scare the hair right out of your head.” Timothy thought for a second and added, “Except maybe you Mr. Clark.”
Timothy got a funny look from Chris and the captain, but Al just smiled.
To nobody’s surprise, their way was again blocked when they reached the end of the passage. Princess Kira was not however disappointed. Before them was what had to be the passageway to the ancestral home of the Sansi. A twelve foot, rounded top, stone doorway filled with what looked like tens of tons of rocks and boulders.
“Those are the stones of the arch that leads to the Lost Home. I have seen drawings in the ancient writings, and these carvings tell part of our story. We are almost there!” Kira’s face glowed with excitement.
“Almost is right,” said Chris. “That passage is so well blocked, almost is about a week away.”
“It’s not that bad. We can use a shape charge. How thick is that wall Kira?” asked the captain.
“It is a…tunnel? The sacred books say it takes forty fingers to enter the Lost Home. Some think that four people must sacrifice their fingers to pass through the hall of entry.”
Chris was skeptical, “Does it really say that?”
“It does say something like that, but I do not believe we must cut off our fingers. We must be very careful because, as I said, recorded on these walls is the history of my people, and we don’t want to anger the Hondo that guards this place.”
Al remembered that her father had told him of the Hondo, but he disregarded the warning as superstition and didn’t think to worry much about it. “What if it meant steps—forty steps counted on your fingers. Maybe the passage is forty steps long?” suggested Al.
“We’ll start small and work our way through it,” declared the captain.
They needed to dig as far into the blockage as they could, so it was another hour before they ignited the first charge. It blasted a hole between the pillars six feet back and created enough dust that they had to step briefly into the spider cave to breathe. They did not waste time in setting the next charge, and after the second blast, they had a twelve-foot hole. If the passage is forty steps long, they still had a way to go.
After the fourth explosion, the captain asked Tim the geologist, “Can we go with a double charge?”
“If we want to get there anytime soon, you have my vote.”
The captain turned to Al, “What do you think?”
“Well, since they are designed to shape the explosion in one direction. It should just blow the rock out twice as fast, but we better be standing back.”
Al looked at Kira, who raised her arm and pointed at him as if to say it was his call.
The blast did as Al believed, blowing some debris back at them and some into the long-sealed cavern. The opening sucked some of the dust from around them, to go beyond the light and into the dark cavern beyond. They were all glad for their earplugs, and even Al had put on a pair—just to be sure. He figured, better safe than sorry.
The group stood at the end of the short tunnel, their lights reflecting off the dust that was slowly floating down from the explosion, leaving them waiting until the air cleared—and waiting. Slowly the sights and sounds of this new place became visible. A different form of glowing moss covered most of the walls, producing a yellower light than that of the former section. This moss filled the cavity with enough light to keep from tripping.
The cave was huge, and the stream Kira believed should be here was now a giant lake. The air was fresh, and the sound of water lapping onto the beach made one forget they were under a mountain. The beach sand was clean and white, but not smooth; oddly pockmarked like a thousand little feet had recently trampled its entire length. The lack of bad smells and apparent clearness of the lake indicated to Al that there must be a fresh water inlet somewhere. The lake was dark and didn’t move much, but it was not stagnant.
The cavern had a smell of flowers in spring, and small groups of red petals dotted the phosphorescent moss. Kira stepped to the closest bloom and sniffed. She affirmed, “It is the flowers that make it smell so good.”
Al stood at the top of this miniature world, just inside the entrance looking down past the open beach to the lake, taking in the air, and calculating possible threats. The others were eating their dinners and preparing to settle in, the weariness apparent after a long hard day. He finished his survey and walked down to join them.
Tired from their exertions; they hung lanterns on poles, unrolled the sleeping bags, and all but Chris lay down, shifted once and fell asleep. Chris was left to try and stay awake for three long hours on watch and wonder how circumstance had placed him here. Chris had drawn the short straw.
He took a folding chair down to the beach and left himself twenty feet of sand before it turned to water. Most of the time he spent shining his light back and forth over the surface of the lake. In the silence, he could occasionally hear the slap of open water, further out than his beam could reach, followed by an indeterminate amount of more silence.
To everyone else, he would smile, and act like he was glad to be here. When he talked to himself—he admitted he couldn’t wait to leave. This place was just plain spooky.
****
Three hours later, Al came to take his place. Relieved in more ways than he wished to express, Chris stood up to leave, and with his eyes halfway open said, “I cannot believe how tired I am. I could barely keep my eyes open. I had to make believe there was an armed patrol boat circling the lake, looking to blast something.”
“What…are you talking about?”
Chris grinned a little, and then his face quickly took on a serious look, “Beware the lake Mister Clark. I think there be monsters.” He tapped Al on the shoulder and without another word, made his way to his sleeping bag, his mind already half asleep.
Al sat down in the little folding chair vacated by Chris. He had only managed three hours of sleep, but the down time seemed to help. He felt rested.
It had struck him as curious that everyone could suddenly become so exhausted, and fall asleep so quickly. It was not necessarily odd in Al’s case because he usually felt sleepy after going enhanced. He suspected that when he slept his brain replaced vital chemicals used during the day and going enhanced increased the need. Regarding everybody else, he found it odd that nobody had wanted to explore, at least a little, before going to sleep.
The lake before him filled a large hole on one side of the open chamber. Walls surrounded two-thirds of its perimeter with the beach being the only easy access to the water. The furthest wall was roughly six to eight hundred feet away from where he was sitting. Not knowing what was in the water, he moved the chair back another ten feet. If something did happen to come from the water, he would have a little more time to react.
Al sat in the chair and watched the lake. The cave was silent. Far away droplets hit water somewhere unseen and now and then—something would slap the water and start ripples; softly lapping onto the beach. He was thinking they needed to install additional lighting first thing in the morning when he realized the cave was getting brighter.
Hundreds of tiny holes in the ceiling started to glow, and as time passed the brightness increased. When his security pad told him it was time to wake the others, the holes in the ceiling were providing enough light that flashlights were unnecessary. He found they woke without resistance, and in no time at all they were wide-eyed and ready, claiming some of the best sleep in a long time. Tim and Kira talked of dreams that had them smiling as they woke, and gradually faded from memory over the next half-hour; leaving them feeling strangely content.
Breakfast was coffee and homemade energy bars, compliments of Elizabeth and Tammy. Together they had created the bars with fresh fruits and vegetables, minerals, vitamins, and a few secret ingredients they would not divulge. The amateur nutritionists quick dried them and packaged them for travel and fast meals. They were quite proud of their creations.
The expedition members sat on packs and portable chairs, having breakfast and discussing this long hidden place. The cavern lighting had improved considerably with beams of light shining through scattered holes in the ceiling and tracking with the sun; starting at the far wall and moving gradually towards the lake.
“Do you think you will find this metal you speak of?” Kira asked the captain.
“I’ll know in just a little while. This pad I have is set to sniff out titanium,” he replied.
“That little box can smell metal? How can it do that?”
The captain grinned, “I have to admit that I don’t know exactly how it works, and even to me it seems a little magical, but it isn’t. It is technology. It is the technology that allows us to have all the things you think of as magical. Would you like to help? I can show you how it works.”
Both the captain and the geologist Mister Slade had portable tablets that were configured to locate the particles of titanium they desired. Kira and the captain went to scan the beach on one side of the cavern and Chris and Tim the other. Al decided to take a closer look at the subterranean lake. Taking his most powerful torch, he walked the water line trying to see what kind of creatures might inhabit this unusual habitat.
The sand on the beach had a gradual slope until six feet past the water’s edge; then it appeared to drop, and the water turned a dark cobalt blue. He saw nothing moving before the drop-off. Past the precipice, he could see only deep water and shadows.
It was getting close to noon outside, and the holes above the lake were sending beams of sunlight straight down to dance on the water. For the last hour or so, the brightness of the beams varied, as if clouds floating by were obscuring the sun. A distant rumble could be heard and then—when the sunbeams were at their brightest—it began to rain.
AL CLARK - Avalon -: (Book Two) Page 4