Blood and Sand

by Matthew James

  I appreciate the effort, but I’m not listening to a word she says. I’m just looking for my father.

  We cautiously make our way down the boulevard, maybe another two hundred yards from the wrought-iron gate I saw in my actual nightmare. Kane is in the lead with Nicole and me bringing up the rear. We scan every nook and cranny before advancing to the next section of pillars and pedestals. Not getting ambushed by a pack of these things would be nice.

  Half way through the rows of empty pedestals we reach another of the royal shrines. There’s just one BIG, shiny difference with this one. It’s huge and it’s made of orichalcum.

  Instead of matching the more realistic sizes of the other memorials, this one is twice the size. This particular monument reminds me of the Jefferson Memorial in D.C. and is around 18 feet tall, 25 if you add in the height of the stand it’s perched on. The features on this man are incredibly life like. His perfect posture screams royalty and his clothing is regal, with flowing robes.

  Robes? It can’t be?

  I run up to the statue, realizing who I’m looking at. I’m in complete shock when the others catch up to me. The Egyptian clothing makes his identity a dead giveaway as does the readable name plate, written in common hieroglyphs, some of which I know.

  “It’s Thoth,” I say in utter bewilderment. “The stories are true! He came from this land and travelled east to establish what would become ancient Egypt.” I turn to the others, judging by their confused looks, they don’t know the legend. Then I remembered I had this conversation with Dad on the plane, not with these two.

  “Thoth, the Egyptian God of writing and math, was said to come from a ‘land to the west’ where he was ruler. The information after that is sketchy at best as to why he came, but many supporters of the Atlantean myth believe he may have been the last king of Atlantis and escorted the residents to a new home during the kingdoms final days.”

  I then notice another symbol, this one gives me a different sort of feeling though…one of hope. Thoth, who is facing the pyramid as if holding it at bay, has his arm stretched out in front of him and is holding something. I take a step back and see the object for what it is. It’s an ankh! I think. It being one of the oldest Egyptian hieroglyphs, meaning life, brings a smile to my face.

  Good versus Evil.

  Life versus Death.

  “If this is Thoth…who are the three elders?” Nicole asks.

  I don’t get to answer.

  Pat. Pat. Pat.

  Pat. Pat. Pat.

  We spin around at the sudden outburst of automatic gunfire coming from back in the stone forest. Apparently, our friends from Zero have come across something unfriendly in the woods of the Atlantean underworld. A big bad wolf perhaps? Either way, I guess Kane’s tall tale of seeing shadows in the forest has merit. There must have been a couple of these things roaming the maze of stone. We got lucky.

  Pat. Pat. Pat.

  Pat. Pat. Pat.

  ROAR!

  More gunfire erupts from somewhere in the forest, along with a roar twice as loud as Rhonar’s. What could possibly be bigger than the nine-foot tall rhino-nightmare we dispatched earlier? Whatever it is, it’s pissed and it’s bulldozing through some of the stone trees.

  Pat. Pat. Pat.

  Pat. Pat. Pat.

  ROAR!

  Pat. Pat. Pat.

  Pat. Pat. Pat.

  One thing is clear, this thing is putting up one hell of a fight. It took three of us to take down Rhonar. Whatever that thing is, it’s going up against half a dozen or so trained assassins with assault rifles.

  The three of us look down at the seemingly puny hand guns we are holding and realize how out matched we are. We don’t wait for confirmation that the monster survived the assault, it wouldn’t matter. Instead, we run straight for the entrance of the pyramid, to hell with caution.

  As we pass through the doorway, I think I may have seen something written in the black stone surface. I recognized the Omega symbol from before and a form of text. But since we don’t exactly have time to stop and smell the roses, I’m not 100% sure what it said. But, if it is anything like the other ominous warning we saw earlier, then I would bet money it would say the same thing

  Save yourself from hell.

  35

  It takes us all of 26 seconds to sprint the distance to the gate. Not exactly the Flash, but under the circumstances I think we made damn good time. I’m even more surprised that Kane got here without having to stop. He’s been holding his side ever since he got slammed by the Rhonar beast.

  “You good?” I ask him.

  He shrugs and stretches, then winces, and curses, “Bruised ribs for sure, maybe even a broken one somewhere in there. I’ve had worse. I’ll be fine.”

  Pulling a small pill bottle out from a pocket on the outside of his backpack, Kane pops the top and throws a white pill into his mouth. He then flushes it down with some water, Nicole and I watching him dubiously.

  “What’s in the bottle?” I ask.

  “800 milligram ibuprofen. Why, you want some?”

  As if knowing my answer he tosses the bottle to me. I immediately procure a pill from the bottle and follow suit, swallowing it down with some water.

  I offer the painkiller to Nicole, holding it up for her to take, but she shakes her head. She goes to turn, but notices that I’m still holding the bottle up. The woman may be a real life Tomb Raider, but even Lara has her limits.

  I shake the bottle, rattling its contents.

  Nicole—like a praying mantis—snatches it from my hand and dry swallows one of the capsules, making both Kane and I grimace and her smile.

  Nicole nods a thank you to Kane and flicks the bottle back to him.

  Kane nods his approval, “You know, at first I pegged you for some uptight bitch who was more show than substance.”

  “And now?” Nicole asks honestly interested in what Kane has to say, but not happy about him calling her a bitch.

  “And now…” He says choosing his words carefully. “I still think you’re one.” He smiles. “But you’re my kind of bitch.”

  I just stand there silent as dead man, waiting for Nicole to pull her Ruger and shoot the big dumb ox. But instead she just shrugs her shoulders, quickly nods in agreement and turns back towards the gate.

  God, I love this woman! I think. There is no way I’d have the balls to say that to her, but it’s amazing to know she has that type of personality.

  “Ahem,” I say through a cough, motioning to the gloomy entrance. “May we?”

  Kane winks and steps up to the already opened gate and clicks on his flashlight, having lost his Night Vision Specs in the fight with Rhonar. I laugh to myself about it. He was right when he said that he constantly loses his glasses. I just hope it’s not always under similar circumstances.

  Nicole follows his example, drawing both gun and light. I switch off my glasses and join in with my light for their benefit. Plus, having two LED based light sources would really screw with my night vision. We then slowly creep into the massive structure, listening for anything and everything.

  “Where the hell did they go?” I whisper. “You think something chased them through here?”

  “Let’s hope so, because they’re as good as dead if they’re still outside,” Kane replies. “This place is crawling with these Nightmares, not to mention the Zero hit squad.”

  I can only imagine the fright my dad must have felt facing Rhonar alone. But that can’t be any worse than the sheer terror Omar must have felt. The guy can barely breathe without whimpering in fear on a normal day, let alone a day when he’s being shot at or potentially gored by Bob Sapp’s inhuman cousin.

  “Down we go,” Kane says.

  I look ahead and see we are descending down another tunnel, deeper into this place. It begins to spiral to the left at a constant arc.

  “At least it’s not more stairs,” Kane mumbles thanking this place on behalf of his damaged ribs.

  We continue our plunge deeper
and deeper into the Earth, not knowing when we’d pop out and to what we’d find.

  “How deep do you think we are now?” Nicole asks after fifteen minutes of silent travel.

  “Give or take…maybe another 500 hundred feet deeper or so. That would be my guess anyway,” Kane answers. “What do you think, Hank?”

  I haven’t heard a word. I’m deep in thought, reliving everything that’s transpired here today. “Um…sure, sounds about right,” I finally answer in a monotone, trance-like state.

  Kane stops and turns. “Okay Indy, what’s going on in that noggin of yours?” He motions for us to sit and rest, which we gladly do. He leans against the left hand wall, while Nicole and I plop down against the other. “Every time you zone out and enter La-La Land you end up having some sort of epiphany. So what’s going through your head right now?”

  What’s going on in my head? He should have asked, what isn’t going on in my head. I have about 99 different things swirling through my noggin right now, but my brain is so fried I can’t focus enough to figure any of them out. So I start with the most obvious one.

  “What do you think this place is?”

  Both Kane and Nicole looked surprised I’m asking them their opinion.

  I see their shocked looks, “You guys are just as much a part of this as me. We need to brainstorm and come up with something. I have a bunch of partial conclusions, but could use some help piecing them together.”

  “It’s a prison.”

  I snap over to my left and look at Nicole.

  “It’s a holding cell for Nannot,” she continues. “The elders must have locked him away down here.”

  “It would explain the elaborate construction of this place and why it was never recorded in any historical writings. I asked my dad the same thing and…” I get choked up and catch myself mid-sentence. I never realized how worried I was over my father’s safety.

  I feel a soothing hand on mine.

  “We’ll find him, Hank. I promise,” Nicole says. She then gives it a gentle squeeze and lets it linger there for a split second before pulling it away. She then draws both her Ruger’s and inspects them, ending the moment.

  I glance over at Kane. He gives me a double eye-brow raise—the universal sign for oh, baby and hubba-hubba.

  “Anyways…” I continue. “I asked Dad the same question. Why build such an elaborate place for a myth that was supposedly pure folklore?”

  “Believe me, it ain’t folklore anymore,” Kane says also drawing both his weapons, checking each weapons slide and both magazines.

  “Agreed, but it still doesn’t answer the question, why build it?”

  “To contain, The End?” Nicole asks.

  “That’s half the answer. The other half is…why was he contained and not destroyed?”

  They both nod their heads in agreement. We conclude our talk, not being able to formulate a concrete hypothesis on this place or at least put anything solid together. There are just too many unanswered questions still. I go to stand, but Nicole grabs my hand again, but this time not as gentle, and pulls me back down…hard.

  “Not a chance, Hank,” she says. “You need some rest.” She looks over to Kane for support and the big man just nods, actually looking a little intimidated by her stare and tone.

  I relent and stay seated and agree to take a break. We all need a second to regroup and with Kane’s recent injuries, it’s probably not a bad idea. He needs it more than Nicole and I, though he’d never admit it. He would actually make a really convincing Black Knight from Monty Python’s Holy Grail movie. I can picture him missing an arm and a leg hoping around shouting, “It’s just a flesh wound!”

  We agree on a shorter half-hour rest. After that we’ll pick up our search for the others and hopefully find some more answers and eventually a way out.

  “Let’s just hope the morons didn’t blow up the stairs completely,” Kane commented as he closes his eyes.

  “God, I hope not. I’d really like to see the sun again,” Nicole agrees.

  They lay down, Kane facing up the incline towards the known threat and Nicole facing down the spiraling tunnel, towards the unknown. I’m left in between two of the most badass people I’ve ever met and decide to stay put leaning up against the wall. I glance to both watching and smile as both Kane and Nicole lay on their backs, crossing dual pistols over their chests—like a pair of Egyptian pharaohs holding a crook in one hand and a flail in the other.

  I close my eyes and ask the architects of this place for answers. I also say another prayer to the Nightmares roaming the cavern and for the two we slew earlier. I even add a prayer for us and for Omar and Dad, that we see each other again.

  Before I fall asleep I feel a nudge against my foot and realize its Nicole’s. I smile in the dark and give it a tender nudge back, but don’t let go. We lock ankles in a private embrace and drift to sleep.

  What I could use is a solid power nap.

  What I didn’t need was another dream.

  But, what I got…were answers.

  36

  I open my eyes and find myself in the same chamber as before—the one from my previous dream—except something isn’t right. The world is in black and white, with some shades of both sprinkled in. It sort of looks like I’m watching an older movie.

  There are no flaming lamps floating on the walls, no obsidian bonfire frozen in time and no psychotic, wannabe warlord ranting about taking over the world, killing billions, and using me to do it. It’s just a very large, very bare, void of nothingness. Plus, the cave sounds like it’s crumbling, like an A-Bomb was dropped above it and the shock wave is now passing through.

  There’s a colossal pillar to my left, the size of a redwood. It looks like a giant stalagmite and stalactite fused together after years and years of dripping.

  Like some of my previous spelunking adventures in America’s Midwest, the roof of this cave must be made of limestone. The stalactite would have dripped calcium—among other minerals—to the cavern floor where it would build up to form a stalagmite. As the water drains through the rocks above, it would basically eat away at the limestone, causing it to bleed down and form these majestic columns.

  There must be a huge body of water above me, I think, then, remember where I am. Possibly a sea or part of an ocean—the one that ringed Atlantis in its heyday.

  Then, I see something around the back of the pillar. There’s a slight glow coming from what I guess might be a lantern or possibly a small fire. I slowly and quietly peek around the base of the stone column and see that the light source is neither a lantern or fire, but a crystal of some sort. But gemstones don’t usually glow.

  It’s then that I see the people sitting around the glowing jewel, three of them to be precise. It looks like they are finishing up a conversation, but I must have just missed it since they aren’t speaking, they’re just sitting staring at each other.

  After watching them for what seems like a full minute and not seeing one of them speak a single word, one of the tall men stands, his back to me.

  Come brothers, we must return to the surface and try to restrain our fallen brother and forgive him for what he has done and for what he will do next.

  I hear him speak, but I can’t see his face from here.

  The other two follow the first and stand, turning directly towards me. I duck and hide, concealing myself deeper into the shadow of the limestone column. I hide because they look exactly like Nannot. Then it hits me. Could these be the Elders we’ve read about? I think. I wonder… But decide not to try it, just in case they aren’t as friendly as I hoped.

  The world around me flickers, like a computer screen glitch. Then something strange happens, the lifeless color of this place slowly starts to return, like the HDMI cable has been plugged in.

  Come my friend, there’s no need to hide.

  I freeze. How did they know I’m here? I didn’t make a peep.

  You cannot hide in your own mind. Even if you could, we are not to be
feared.

  I slowly and cautiously step out, looking up at the large individuals, not quite sure what to make of them. They’re huge and are all exactly the same height, around eight feet tall. Their bodies are long and wiry, but very strong, reminding me of a muscular basketball player’s body.

  I step closer, getting an even better look at them. They too have on Egyptian-style robes—like Thoth—though not as elaborate. They’re just soft and flowing, and made of white silk-like material. Simple, yet beautiful in design. Under their robes they have on what looks like medieval-style armor, but more modern in design. It’s sleeker and more nimbly built, allowing for greater flexibility and made from orichalcum, naturally.

  That’s when I remember the other statues of the Atlantean kings, up in the courtyard. I glance up to their heads and notice no crowns.

  That’s because we are not kings, says the middle one in a familiar accent, answering my next question.

  You can hear my thoughts, can’t you? I ask mentally, testing my hypothesis. Oh, and why do you sound like Sean Connery?

  Among other gifts, yes we can hear you in here, he says tapping his temple. Although, thought has no language and regardless of what tongue you speak we would understand you just fine. He pauses as if pondering my second question a little longer. Then he continues, As to why I sound like him…? Your subconscious chose this voice, not me.

  Makes sense I guess, but having Dr. Henry Jones Sr.’s Scottish brogue in my ear is going to take some getting used to. Plus, I’m never gunna’ hear the end of it from Kane if he finds out that I have Indy’s Dad in my head.

  One other thing, why have you guys only communicated with me while I sleep? Why not talk to me while I’m awake?

  All three react, staring straight into my soul, Guys? Are we not the only ones to contact you?

  I can tell they are worried and they seem like they are in fact on my side, so I decide it can’t hurt to tell them about Nannot’s contact with me earlier.