The Treasure Map

by Tyler Scott Hess

  But Jack still had something else on his mind. He had tried to block it out. He wanted to push it out of his mind forever. He knew that was never going to be the case. He was going to have to complete the journey with Niko Monroe. He was going to have to finish the adventure. But it wasn’t going to be this night.

  Instead, Jack dropped his broom, the room half clean at best, and nearly collapsed into the bed that his mother had been kind enough to prepare for him with the items he had retrieved from his old room.

  It was dark. The moon was hardly a sliver in the night sky and the clouds were blocking most of the stars. It hardly concerned him. The inside of his eyelids was all he wanted to see as he quickly dozed off for the night.

  When Jack awoke the next morning, he had no desire to open his eyes. Christmas was two days away and he had hardly had time to celebrate the season. While his brother and sisters played and decorated, he had been busy purging and tossing and scrubbing his way to a new room. While they were happily devouring Christmas candy and watching their favorite holiday movies, he had been witnessing the life of another person, one whose troubles were far worse than his own.

  Jack blinked. He did so repeatedly until his eyes came into focus and he saw his father fiddling with something from his toolbox. Mr. Monroe was sitting on the one thing they had left up in the attic that had been there all those years, the treasure chest that had contained a map and certain letters regarding the troubling times of Niko Monroe.

  “What are you doing in here?” Jack quickly questioned his father.

  “We have things to do today,” Joshua Monroe answered. “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve. Don’t plan on doing any work on a holiday. Do you?”

  “Didn’t think I had much of a choice,” Jack answered honestly. “What are we going to do today?”

  “Was it a bit cold in here last night?” his father asked, gesturing all around to the four walls of the attic. “Thought we might check on the insulation. Make sure the wiring up here is safe while we’re at it. All that fun stuff.”

  “I don’t know how to do any of that,” Jack said as he climbed out of bed.

  “That’s true,” his father nodded. “That’s why you have me. I’m going to show you how to do those things so when you grow up you’ll be able to show your son how to do them. That’s how families work. You pass down what you know.”

  “So you learned all of this from grandpa?” Jack asked.

  “I learned many things from my old man,” Mr. Monroe said. “But he wasn’t much of a handyman. Picked most of this up on my own. Your gramps has always been more of a philosopher, I guess you could say. A real thinker. He is more concerned with the meaning of things than some of the practical aspects of life. Guess that’s why he didn’t know what to do with all that stuff you just cleared out. He hoped to go out on a missionary journey someday. He was a faithful man, went to church every Sunday, but his dreams never materialized the way he hoped. Too busy raising a bunch of rowdy boys.”

  “A missionary journey?” Jack asked. “Like the people who go to other countries?”

  “Just like them,” Mr. Monroe said. “We come from a long line of them, you ought to know. Guess it stopped with grandpa. And my brothers and I…well…I suppose we were more needed around here.”

  Joshua Monroe spent that day doing all the things he could to help Jack make his new room suitable for living. More work would need to be completed after Christmas, but he would be able to get through a few days of sleeping in the attic as it stood.

  Throughout the day, Jack’s eyes would wander their way toward the treasure chest, as he contemplated the contents of the box. Who was Niko Monroe? His father had never mentioned that name and he couldn’t remember seeing it when he had scanned the old family tree for a school project. And the places. He’d never heard of them! It was a mystery, but one he didn’t want his father knowing too much about. Not yet. He knew he had to find the answer for himself.

  After dinner came and went, Jack went up to his room alone, sat on the floor in front of the treasure chest with his legs crossed and his heart beating rapidly. He was shaking, but confident in his decision, he had to see what was to become of Niko Monroe.

  Jack opened the chest. He saw a now tattered map, realized he could recognize some of the names listed, and he knew where Niko was set to go next. With it was a hefty stack of crumpled papers leading him to believe it wouldn’t be easy. He took a deep breath, settled in for the long road ahead, and opened his eyes as he continued the great escape.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The Great Escape

  SECURITY PRESENCE OUTSIDE the village gates is limited. Guards won’t chase us amongst the trees, but our steps are no less cautious. We follow Maia in single file through the dense forest, not knowing her path, and uncertain what awaits us in Akiva. The Elder claims it will be safe in such a small village. Sheffield thinks the old man is a fool. I know where I stand, but I don’t know these people well enough to be confident in anything they say. We come from varying backgrounds, but the enemy has forced us to work together, and so we march on despite our differences, hoping our faith will secure our bond.

  “We need to get to Akiva before sunrise,” the Elder reminds Maia.

  “That won’t be a problem,” she assures him.

  Every step I take is a burden, the pain still shooting through my body from the day we escaped. This is the third day in a row I’ve had to hike to a new village. I thought with enough motivation I would be able to adapt to the rigors of the life of an escaped convict, but my time in Justice Hall left too little meat on my bones, and adrenaline wore off long ago. I don’t know how much more of this my body can take. If Akiva doesn’t provide the safety the Elder all but promised us, I might not make it to another safe house. No one is talking much, but when they do their tone betrays them. We’re all suffering.

  I feel relief whenever it looks like we’re about to descend into a valley, silently praying we are approaching Akiva, but there’s always another hill to climb, stream to sneak over, or series of swaying trees to dodge in the windy night air. If I’ve learned anything tonight, it’s that if we ever find a place to rest, I’m going to need to prepare my body for a more treacherous life on the run. If this is how it’s going to be from now on, I need to prepare my soul for what lies ahead or I’ll end up dead, whether the State finds me or not.

  “I recognize these rocks,” Maia tell us, kicking a layer of small pebbles in front of her. “We’re not far from the outskirts of the village now.”

  “How are you doing with my gear?” Rafe asks me.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I tell him. “I know how to protect a pack.”

  “Okay, okay,” he calms himself. “I’m just…have you ever been to Akiva?”

  “Once,” I tell him. “When I was young and I honestly don’t remember it well. My father always spoke fondly of the town, but he never gave many details on why he thought so highly of the little village itself. I believe the Faithful in Akiva were few but strong. What the Elder said about farmland sounded familiar, but nothing else of significance comes to mind. How about you?”

  “No,” Rafe replies. “Our parents never let us go anywhere, really. Our trip to Justice Hall was the first time we left our home for more than a day or two. They never wanted us to get into any trouble with the law. It seems to have found us anyway.”

  “What’s it really like, Sheffield?” Wiley asks.

  “Why don’t you ask the old man?” Sheffield answers sharply. “He seems to think he knows more about my own hometown than I do.”

  “There’s a reason for that,” the Elder barks, unconcerned about anyone hearing us until the village is in sight. “Not that you know how to shut your mouth long enough to figure it out, Sheffield. But it doesn’t matter right now. We’re not going to Akiva to see the town and chat up the locals. We are there to hide and prepare for the mission ahead of us. We won’t be able to take the next step without proper attention to detail.”
<
br />   “The next step?” Maia asks, coming to a halt at the sight of street lights glowing down in the valley below us. “Since when are we on any mission besides survival?”

  “Do you think we can run and hide forever?” the Elder asks us as he surveys the wall surrounding the village. “We are running out of safe houses in the region and they’ll all be low on rations by now. The Faithful have dwindled, if by force or by fear. This might be our last chance of turning the tide.”

  “Turning the tide?” I ask. “The tide of what?”

  “The State wants you to think it’s strong,” the Elder answers as he begins picking out different guard locations and points of entry, taking notes on a small pad he managed to carry in his pack. “Ariel is more fragile than they want you to believe. Their walls are cracking and their leadership is fractured. This is our chance to change everything.”

  “Didn’t seem that way on Independence Day,” Sheffield scoffed. “Looked like they all wanted our blood. Every one of them from President Shah to those animals in the stadium who cheered on our impending execution.”

  “Of course they did,” the Elder frowned. “They’re hanging on by the slimmest of hopes that the State is telling them the truth. Shah believes he can silence the dissenters with the slaughter of the Faithful. But your escape will have caused a murmur that even the president won’t be able to contain with his iron fist and armed guards.”

  “So what does that have to do with us?” Maia began to ask, but she was quickly interrupted by the sudden jolt of the Elder’s head. “Why are you ducking?”

  The Elder didn’t answer for five minutes as he put his hand over his mouth. The rest of us followed his lead, but it took me a minute to see what had caused him to hide. We soon witness two guards passing by no more than fifty feet in front of us. No one moves a muscle until they are out of sight and hearing distance.

  “There’s no more time for further explanation,” the Elder insisted. “We’ll get to that when we’re in the safe house. I know of a way inside the walls over on the left side of that gate with the metal bars. The guards never pay much mind over there because that gate is rarely opened.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?” I ask, suggesting we go forward.

  “You’re not going to like it,” the Elder answers. “It’s through the underground tunnels hidden by that post over there, three hundred yards beyond the front gate, the one with the flag of Ariel on top.”

  “And by underground tunnels you mean…” Rafe sighed.

  “The sewers,” I sighed, my frustration coming through instead of anger. I’m so tired.

  “I said you weren’t going to like it,” the Elder grumbles, spitting on the ground as he begins to lead us through the brush that quickly reveals a hidden layer of pavement, an unsuspicious entryway to those unaware of its presence.

  “How do we open it?” Maia asks, the rest of us looking to the Elder for an answer.

  “There’s going to be a coded lock by the entrance,” the Elder answers, pointing his now shaking hand toward a small manhole covered with fake sod and grass. I’m not the only one low on energy. No one is at full strength. “We’re going to need to pick that lock to enter.”

  “Do we guess until we find the right code?” I ask, speaking before I realize I’m not the one who should be talking at the moment.

  “Can’t do that,” Rafe shakes his head. “A coded lock such as this is likely to trigger an alarm if we were to guess wrong two or three times. Not a big deal if we were supposed to be there, but we’re not, and we’d be met by guards faster than an antelope in the sight of a hungry lion.”

  “So how do we steal the code?” Maia asks, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one is looking our way. “It’s not like we can inquire at the front gate.”

  “Leave that to me,” Rafe tells her. “Niko, I need something I stuffed into your pack that should do the trick.” He steps behind me and quickly searches through the side pockets and retrieves a small electronic device.

  “What’s that?” the Elder asks, admitting that even he was unsure of how we were going to get past the lock. “I’ve seen many peculiar devices in my day, but that doesn’t look familiar.”

  “That’s because I invented it,” Rafe says, a grin piercing his dirtied face. “Came up with the idea a few months before we were apprehended. The prototype looks a lot better than this, but I had limited time and resources at the first shelter we came to. Just give me a moment and pray this isn’t too loud when I snap it into…there, that ought to do it.”

  “You’re a genius,” I tell him as the lock slips loose and I help him lift the manhole under the flag pole.

  “Imagine if the State had known,” Rafe says with a wink. “They would have had me programming these under threat of force. Then no one would have been able to pick them.”

  “Glad you’re on our side,” Maia says as she follows us.

  “That’s why I like to keep him around,” Wiley jokes before the Elder motions for us to all be quiet.

  “We’re not out of the woods just because there aren’t any trees down here,” the Elder chastises us in a hushed tone. “Keep your mouths quiet and your ears open. There could be guards down here or even a technician who would be keen on reporting us to them. There’s a quarter-mile maze we have to navigate before we get to the safe house. Do your best to keep up. We don’t know how much time we’ll have to…did you hear…quick! Hide!”

  I dive and roll behind a pillar, slamming my head hard against the corner of a metal cylinder. It’s not the first time I’ve hit my head on something so unforgiving, but there’s no preparing for it, and it always hurts. My eyes blur for a moment, and I have to shut off the screams inside my head, but I am able to find my senses and make out how the others have been discreet enough to have evaded the set of guards making their rounds.

  “I wouldn’t worry about it,” a tall, slender man says to his partner, a short, stocky woman nervously tapping her radio against the palm of her left hand. “The governor comes here twice a year to make a political speech to his voting base, which is everyone who knows what’s good for them. He’s not here to stir things up. Nothing exciting ever happens in Akiva. I don’t know why they still feel the need to tighten security whenever he’s in town.”

  “Nothing exciting we know about,” she says as they turn the corner. I can faintly hear her theorize, “But I swear there’s something going on around here beyond our pay grade. Maybe it has to do with those convicts who escaped the other…”

  The Elder lifts his head and motions for us to be quick and silent. I don’t think they’ll be back around this way for a while, but these catacombs are not as vacant as we had hoped. We all realize this is no time to let our guard down.

  “How far is it?” I ask the Elder as quietly as possible while we slither from shadow to shadow.

  “Not far,” he whispers back, his eyes focused and his body tightly slinking through the alleys of the sewer. “But we have to be extra careful around this next corner.”

  “Why’s that?” Maia asks.

  “I’ve never seen a time when there wasn’t a guard or two across the way from where we’re headed,” the Elder tells us as he pokes his head around the corner. “And I see three of them right over there, huddled up around a radio.”

  “What do we do?” I ask. “We’ve come too far to turn around.”

  “Turn around?” he scoffs. “They’ll never be more distracted than they are by that radio. Turning around would be more work than getting past those three. Someone will surely stumble across that open lock we left out there sooner or later. If we’re lucky, they’ll think some local punks were out having a laugh, but any guard with a vested interest in their career would remember there are still a half dozen convicts loose in the region. We just have to pray this safe house is still operating according to its purpose.”

  “What if it isn’t?” Sheffield demands to know. “What if we’re walking into a trap?”

&n
bsp; “We have no other options,” the Elder insists. “It’s this or nothing. If you want to turn back now, that’s fine, I won’t hold it against you. But I’ll bet you’ll regret it when you’re tossed back into that cell in Justice Hall. How long do you suppose it will take for them to find you a new noose?”

  I gulp. None of us have the experience the Elder has in these matters. We haven’t lived this life for long. Even if we had a better plan, we wouldn’t know how to execute it on our own. Our lives are in his hands.

  “So how do we get past them?” Maia asks as I take a peek around the corner. “They must be on high alert if so many of them are roaming the sewers, looking for something suspicious. They could be talking about us right now for all we know.”

  “Wiley,” the Elder beckons gruffly. “What kind of…distractions do you have in that pack of yours? Anything useful?”

  Wiley grins like a cat with a bird in its sights. “Probably. Depends, though. What kind do you need?”

  “We need something big enough, and far away enough, to send all three of those guards running down that corridor beyond them,” the Elder says. “And we need them out of our way long enough for us to all get through that hatch hidden over on the other side, the one twenty feet high up that ladder, without them hearing, seeing, and capturing us.”

  “I can do that, but I’m going to need some help,” Wiley answers as he tosses off his pack and locates a black and yellow device slightly larger than the size of his hand.

  “I’ll help,” I say, looking to be of some value to the group.

  “No,” Wiley says. “I’ve seen you plop along in the forest enough now. I need someone fast and quiet. I need her.”

  Felicity looks around before pointing a trembling finger to herself as she shakes her head. “I don’t know anything about bombs,” she says, her soft chipmunk voice looking for a way out of harm.