Beneath The Mantle

by Ahimsa Kerp

  “We can guess all day,” Stuart said. “Even if he’s telling the truth, though, we owe it ourselves to get out of here.”

  “And go where?” Harper asked.

  “Home,” Stuart said.

  “Sure,” Harper said. “But how?”

  It was then that a golem with a green Mohawk shifted into the visible spectrum before them.

  Chapter 30

  It happened like this: Before any of them could say anything, Baruna clapped her hands together. A deep darkness slumped across the city, and surprised exclamations of the gods rang out. It was just light enough to see vague shadows. Together the three of them carefully followed the golem out of the building and onto the grass.

  Moving with unerring precision, the golem weaved them throughout Selvage. They did not encounter another being. At last, their Mohawked guide stopped before a building and motioned for them to enter.

  With a helpless look at the others, Stuart stepped in.

  Something softly glowed in the center of the room. He walked to it slowly, step by careful step. He knew what it was, of course. Instinctively, he understood exactly what lay there before him.

  Stuart slung off his backpack, unzipped it, and stuffed the eye of Ra into it. The eye was too big to fit entirely, and he could not zip it back up again. It felt as though it might fall out, so he put it back on his front. On his way out, he saw some familiar vials, and threw those into the front pocket of his pack.

  “What’s up?” Harper asked.

  “I’ve got the eye,” Stuart said. “We need to go.”

  “How? Where? They can chase us down,” Baruna said.

  “We can get away,” Stuart said.

  “They’re gods! I’m sure they can fly, or run faster than the wind. Where can we go?” Harper asked. “How can we get away?”

  “There’s only one option,” Stuart replied. “We go the pasture. And we ride the megamoose away from here as fast as we can.”

  “Well, it’s as good an idea as I can think of,” Harper said.

  “It’s better,” he answered. Turning to the golem, he asked, “Do you know where the portal to the moose field is?”

  It seemed to understand him instantly, and it set off on another circuitous route. There were various lit up areas and bands of Selvagians wandering the village, but again they encountered no one.

  The golem led them to another of the houses. The three went in and were greeted by a shimmering portal. It was wide and large enough to walk two megamoose at a time through, and the three of them easily fit. The golem did not follow them, or if it did so, remained invisible. They waved goodbye and stepped through.

  The pasture was far enough away from Selvage that it was free of the darkness.

  “What’s that?” Harper asked.

  Rushed though they were, Stuart was transfixed by the sight she had indicated.

  A bubble shimmered with translucent luminosity. Behind that sheer curtain, massive, unkempt beasts tramped and tromped in the fields. One trumpeted a warning at them, trunk lifted high into the air.

  “Mammoths!” Harper cried. “Mammuthus primigenius. I never thought to see them in real life.”

  “Can we ride them?” Stuart asked.

  “I wouldn’t want to try,” Harper said. “They are territorial and could easily kill us just for entering their domain.”

  “Isn’t it too hot for them? I mean, I couldn’t keep my jacket on,” Stuart asked.

  Harper shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe the gods use magic to cool them off.”

  “We have to go,” Baruna said. “They will be on our heels anytime now.”

  Harper reluctantly agreed. After riding for so long from the Cinnamon Hills, it was easy to quickly mount the megamoose, and ride away. A quick conversation resulted in a decision to ride back to where they had first entered the land; the long staircase and stone Moai.

  Stuart kept looking back, but there was nothing behind them. It seemed they had not been discovered yet. They stopped once to let the moose drink from a stream. With their massive antlers, it took a deep and wide source of water for them to lower their heads. As they were doing so, Baruna removed her pistol, and shot at something behind them. She shot several times, her face wrapped in a frown.

  “What the hell?” Stuart asked.

  “They found us,” Harper said.

  “Relax,” Baruna said. “It’s only that plant that almost ate Keshav.”

  Stuart stared. It was where the plant had attacked them. It seemed so long ago now. Baruna’s revenge seemed petty, but there was little they could do; the cobra lily was a steaming pile of compost.

  Some time later, they were passed by a dozen terror birds. Fast as the moose could go, the birds were much, much faster. Either wary of the moose or used to seeing gods seated upon them, the birds did not bother them. Stuart thought about shooting one, but he did not want to risk angering the others.

  Soon after that, however, Stuart glanced back and saw, not far away, at least ten gods behind them. They were mounted on mammoths; riding quickly and catching up.

  “Ride!” Stuart called. They pressed their moose to dangerous speeds over the uneven ground. And yet their pursuers closed the gap by half. The mammoths could achieve speeds that no moose could match.

  “Almost there,” Harper called.

  Ahead of them saw the first of the large statues. Their moose slowed, fighting the commands of their riders.

  The human riders rode toward the circle of statues, but there was no sign of the staircase.

  “No time!” Harper yelled. She leapt down from her beast into the tall grass.

  Stuart followed her, gingerly holding his backpack with both hands.

  Baruna remained on her moose; her hand was on her gun, and her eyes on their pursuers. They were close enough now that Acan was recognizable. He rode on the lead mammoth and did not look happy.

  “What do I do with it?” Stuart asked.

  “Throw it down. I don’t know.”

  He set it down instead, smoothing some of the small grass just beneath one of the larger Moai. The rumble of mammoths grew louder, and Stuart could smell their powerful bestial scent

  “Open Sesame,” Stuart yelled, thinking of the Pantheon.

  A black door opened in the air before them. It was opaque, completely black, and yet he could feel coldness seeping through. He hoped that the magic worked.

  “Go,” he said, shuttling Harper through before she could complain.

  “You fools!” Acan was within earshot now. “You don’t know what you’re doing!”

  “Baruna, go!” Stuart said.

  She leapt from her moose and stood before the portal. Behind her, the gods surrounded them in a ring of mammoths. Acan leapt lightly from the back of his wooly beast.

  “We can’t leave it behind,” Baruna said.

  “We have to,” Stuart said.

  “Are you crazy? They can just come right after us.”

  “We have no choice!”

  “We can fight,” she said.

  Stuart grabbed the pistol from her and shoved her through the portal.

  Acan strode toward him. “You figured out our plans. Clever. But you can’t stop us from hunting you down. And put down that pistol. It cannot hurt me.”

  Stuart raised his arm and shot the statue. He held the trigger, slicing through the stone at an angle. It took only a moment, and the top half of the stone was falling toward Stuart..

  “No!” Acan cried, leaping for him. His mammoth roared with resounding force.

  Stuart took a single step forward and imagined the portal closing as the giant stone fell upon the eye of Ra.

  ***

  The cold smacked them with dynamic force. They had each grown accustomed to the sultry, oppressive temperatures below the earth. It was not snowing, and the sun shone in a brilliant blue sky, but the ice beneath their feet and the howling wind left no doubt about the world they had entered.

  Stuart had to blink a fe
w times, just to ensure this wasn’t a dream or a hallucination. His shivering body left no doubt as to the reality of the situation, however. The glare of the sun on ice made him wish for sunglasses, an item he hadn’t remembered existing since they’d descended down to the center of the Earth.

  “We made it,” Stuart yelled. His adrenalin was still up from the narrow escape.

  “What did you do?” Baruna asked. He explained to her what had happened.

  “Clever,” Harper said. “Once again. Though I doubt it will keep them out forever.”

  “Ra has another eye, for one thing,” Baruna said.

  “Look at that,” Harper said, pointing to their left.

  Resting not more than twenty meters, was the Pantheon. It sat high on the ice, just as they had left it. But between them and the ship was something even more engaging.

  “Look! I found penguins!” Stuart said. The little waddling creatures were surprised by the instantaneous emergence of the three humans, and they waddled away with croaks and squawks of dismay.

  “I’m not trying to be funny,” Baruna said. “But I could really use a hug right now.” They joined her in a brief but heartfelt hug.

  They were home.

  Epilogue

  Of all the bizarre things that happened to me since we left the Pantheon, I discovered the strangest one of all upon our return.

  We spent weeks or months trapped beneath the mantle. Maybe longer, though in that largely nightless place, no one could know for sure. Subjectively, it felt like years. When I dreamed of coming back, I worried that my family would have declared me dead, my sister married, my brother too good at video games for me to ever play him again. Never once did I suspect the truth.

  Above the surface, we were gone for less than a day. We found the ship much as we had left it. It was not easy to explain our strange clothes, our tan skin, the death of the other two men who set out. But none of us dared to whisper the truth. We had to settle for evasions, half-truths, and outright lies. Everyone was too relieved to press us too much. Apparently a massive storm swept in last night, and they were sure we were dead.

  Captain Kugeon was coughing dark blood when we found him. I smuggled balche out from Selvage, and though it wasn’t easy to get him to swallow it, eventually he did. He started to glow and healed before our eyes. It was miraculous. (Truly so, if I think about that word.) There was some left over, and Baruna took the rest to the other wounded passengers. It took all the balche we had, except for the bit around Baruna’s neck, but I think we healed pretty much everyone.

  I spoke to Baruna and Harper last night, when we finally had some time to ourselves. We are going to stick together for a while. Neither Harper nor I want Baruna to be alone right now, and she said she intended to visit her family in India. We were invited to accompany her. As to where Harper and I stand … shit, I don’t know. That kiss in Graben feels like a long time ago. Another world ago. I think I’m comfortable being friends with her. At any rate, she has taught me a thing or two about how to live. We will see.

  If you detect optimism and forward planning in this writing, you are correct. Thirty minutes ago (how nice it is to have time again!) I was awoken by the sound of a helicopter outside. We have been found, and some of the children on the ship have already been flown back to land. There are ice-breakers and rescue helicopters coming. They have been looking for us for two days, but in the fog it was impossible to find us, especially as they didn’t know we had changed course. Tonight, we will be on land back in Ushuaia with restaurants, Wi-Fi, and all the comforts of civilization.

  Things that I missed. Peanut butter on toast. (Keshav was right about North Americans and peanut butter.) A hot cup of coffee. A hot shower, for that matter. A small device that plays hundreds of songs right into my ears. I have to play some Cornershop in honor of Keshav as soon as I can. Relaxing without worrying about monsters eating me or angry gods.

  This morning the three of us slipped back down onto the ice after we raided the cupboard of seven king size Cabury bars. It didn’t take long to find a crack in the ice, where the turbulent sea peeked through at us. Harper unwrapped and threw all of them in. We watched as they sank into the sea. Will they make their way to Ek Chuaj? Or be eaten by an unwary octopus? I don’t know, but I like to think that those Roasted Almond and Dairy Milk bars will somehow find their way to the bottom of the ocean, and be discovered by the denizens who live beneath the mantle.

  And in the meantime? I still have my memory card. I just may have a story to tell . . .

  THE END

  Read on for a free sample of Savage Island.

  To begin with, I would like to thank Gary Lucas, Dane T. Hatchell and the others at Severed Press for their hard work.This book would not exist in shape without them. Additionally, what you have just read would be significantly worse without the help of the redoubtable Garrett Calcaterra, eagle-eyed Rachel Hadfield, and Ashley "Don't You Even Know What SpellCheck Is?" Johnson. Thanks too to Wind Lothamer for initial discussions and to Oreon Lothamer, for agreeing to read it even though it wasn't Highlander fanfiction.

  Much gratitude to my brother Jesse, who read a bit before finding a much more interesting video game and my sister Janessa, whom I still hope to convince to read Lord of the Rings someday. Above all, thanks to my mother, Cilicia Philemon, who encouraged my love of reading and is as supportive as possible, even though my books are too dark and violent for her to actually read.

  Inspiration came from the BBC program Walking With Beasts and the board game Carcassone: Hunters and Gatherers. I recommend both to anyone with a further interest in megafauna.

  Ahimsa Kerp

  March 2015

  Listing in the Fog

  Forget the global movement, forget saving the environment, and forget dying with a long list of achievements chiseled into your epitaph, Lee Branch just wanted to get his boat out of the fog. This wasn't the early morning traffic type of fog. The boat was listing through what seemed to be walls of impenetrable clouds. Add to that, it was nighttime. There was zero visibility at any angle you played it.

  This was day three of their trip. They should've arrived yesterday to the secret island. The GPS coordinates had them traveling well beyond the Cayman Islands to a restricted zone. This unknown island was allegedly an illegal chemical dumping site belonging to a mix of pharmaceutical companies and big league chemical producers. Lee imagined an island hotbed of boiling concoctions. The goal of The Green Project, Lee's organization, was to investigate the wrongdoings and blow the whistle. Lee argued trees and animals couldn't hire lawyers to protect themselves. Someone had to stand up to the conglomerates and powerhouse companies who didn't give a damn about the destruction of the world.

  This mission was proving to be very dangerous. Their sources gave them directions on how to avoid the border patrols and stay under-the-radar. The directions were flawless. They traveled hundreds of miles without incident. Then six hours ago, a boat had sped up beside them. A crew of seven armed individuals forced their way on board, smashed every light on their boat, and shattered the post to their wind sail. The engines were shot up by machine gun fire, and their backup fuel was stolen.

  Four of Lee's most treasured assistants were gunned down brutally in those fatal moments. Each victim received four shots center masse in the chest. Lee remained alone on the boat now. He felt like he was doomed. The wind sail and the engine were useless, and Lee couldn't use the radio to send out a distress signal. Water and food supplies were dwindling, but he could make it last five days, if he exercised stringent rationing. For now, there was only barren ocean and questions repeating in his mind.

  Who really provided the intelligence on the top secret island? Lee's trusted allies gave him the information. Had they betrayed him? Who were those armed individuals that shot up his crew? And why, why, did they not kill him too?

  Lee looked on at fog and darkness. It was a lot like looking at death. Nothing to look forward to, and nothing to look back on.
>
  How things were going, Lee would never see his daughter again. Susan Branch was thirty-five years old and a champion of the cause. She was orchestrating things on the administrative side for The Green Project, while Lee was out sailing to nowhere. Probably straight to his death, he kept thinking.

  Was Susan in danger too? Of course she was, he thought. Lee prayed for her safety. What level of betrayal had been perpetrated by those he once trusted? It made him damn good and mad brooding on it. All Lee could do was squeeze his fists, and spit out curses that ricocheted off the endless ocean.

  Calming down, Lee prayed for a good outcome in whispers. He got half a prayer out when he was knocked off of his feet, and he slammed into the deck. The front of the ship crunched. Water flooded into the ship. Below foot, he could hear the gargling and bending of the ship's belly giving to the pressure. The boat would sink in minutes.

  Lucky for him, Lee had his backpack on. He retrieved a heavy-duty flashlight from it, and navigated his way off of the ship. The boat had crashed into a wooden dock, and the wood was solid enough to turn an otherwise healthy ship into a sinking one. Lee retreated up the dock, and charged down its length to land.

  He faced a thick jungle front. This had to be the island they were investigating. By chance, or not, Lee had arrived at his destination.

  Lee withdrew the .45 pistol from his backpack, and advanced into the jungle. He searched for signs of buildings, life, or any indication of those people in cloth masks with submachine guns.

  What disturbed him wasn't in the distance.

  It was right under his feet.

  Lee dragged his flashlight beam across the perimeters of the footprint. He was standing in the middle of it. He could've walked ten paces in each cardinal direction from where he stood before touching the edge of the print. Lee observed the notches for razor sharp claws, and shuttered to imagine the creature this print belonged to.