Atlantic Pyramid

by Michelle E Lowe

  I said nothing to Carlton, or even Khenan, who joined us at Marissa and Tammy’s place for dinner and drinks. Khenan and I spoke about our frightening journey and what had happened to the soldiers. A lump formed in my throat when I talked about Travis and what I’d had to do to give him peace.

  “Don’t take none of it so hard, boys,” Carlton said. “People die. It’s just the way it is. Those boys lived very long lives, especially Travis.”

  “Did you make it to the top?” Tammy asked before slurping her soup.

  At first, I didn’t realize she’d spoken to me. But as I filled my belly, my mind focused more on my agenda. “Sorry? Er, yeah, but I didn’t find anything.”

  I told them about the fleas, which I’d also told Worley about before we’d left South Village. He could spread the word. Everyone at the table could do the same. I wouldn’t be around to do it myself.

  “Fleas, huh?” Marissa said. “Ain’t that something?”

  “I can’t believe those damn Vikings are dead,” Carlton said. “With them gone and an explanation for what makes people go mad, at least you boys didn’t go through hell for nothing.”

  “We haven’t told them any of our news yet, “Marissa said. “While you were gone, a woman from the Obsoletes came over and told us that Doctor Chancier killed everyone in the village before he killed himself.”

  My jaw hit the table.

  “Wah?” Khenan said. “Why?”

  “He just up and lost his mind, is all,” Marissa said. “Couldn’t stand the sight of his wife’s hanging body every day. He wanted her back but not as a ghost.”

  “Gnarly,” said Gavin, sitting on a nearby empty chair.

  Marissa stole a long glance at Tammy. It made my own mournful heart bleed a little more. She returned her attention to me and Khenan. “After two hundred years, he finally blew up in the worst possible way.”

  “What about the woman who told you this?” I asked. “How’d she escape?”

  “She didn’t,” Carlton said. “She claims he let her live. Said she woke to the sound of the doc hacking at her husband’s face with a meat cleaver.”

  “Jesus Christ!” I exclaimed.

  “What ’e let ’er live fer?” Khenan wondered.

  “To tell everyone what he’d done. Then he put a pistol in his mouth and bang!”

  “Now she lives with us, poor thing,” Carlton said.

  “How big was the village?” I asked.

  “It wasn’t as populated as ours or South Village, but it did accommodate quite a few people. He waited until everyone was asleep before he went at them.”

  “Some of us went over there to investigate,” Marissa said.

  “Yeah, I wish you weren’t so curious,” Tammy complained.

  Marissa rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I’d never seen such a bloody mess in my life. I’ve seen some shit, but I nearly lost it over there. We buried the victims and left the good doctor where he died. Maybe we’ll clean the houses up and some of us can move over there someday.”

  “This sort of thing has happened before throughout the years,” Carlton said. “People lose it one way or another. It’s our price for immortality.”

  * * *

  The following morning, I stood on my front porch, waiting for the sunrise. When it did, the little mysterious dot appeared on the horizon. I heard Dominic say, “Do you know what that is?”

  “Another island,” I said without turning to him.

  “It is the Somers Isles, or Bermuda.”

  “How do you know?”

  “We are facing north. That is why this is called North Village. A map and compass tell you plenty. I like to come out once in a while to look at it before the fog comes. We’re so close to the outside world and yet we can’t reach it. It’s like being imprisoned on Alcatraz.”

  “Alcatraz?” Gavin said, bewildered.

  I knew what he meant. Alcatraz prisoners had suffered the torture of seeing San Francisco through their windows. The city and inmates had been separated only by the bay. Prisoners had reported smelling coffee and hearing loud parties across the water, some of life’s little pleasures only a short distance away.

  “If you breathe deep enough, you can smell their rum cakes baking,” Dominic said. He sucked in a deep breath, exhaled, and looked at me. “You have that look in your eyes. You are going to do something stupid, yes?”

  “I’m going to try sailing out,” I said unexpectedly. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt like I could trust Dominic enough to tell him my intentions.

  “You’re gonna what?” Gavin said beside me.

  Dominic only nodded and said, “Before you go, let’s eat some breakfast. You can’t face your possible end on an empty stomach.”

  He cooked strips of stingray meat with slices of fruits. We didn’t talk. Once we’d eaten, I thanked him for the food and set out into the junkyard, taking the same life raft I’d yet to return.

  I reached the boundary within a couple of hours. By then, I’d grown accustomed to navigating through the dangerous terrain. As I neared the edge, I took a moment to gaze out beyond the boundary. Did I really want to do this?

  Remembering the bitter cold beyond the junkyard, I’d brought a coat Dominic had lent me. It was an old flight jacket. It would keep me warm enough.

  The fog was thick by now, making it difficult to see anything ahead of me. If Dominic was right about Bermuda, the distance between us wasn’t very far. If I could make it past the island’s boundary, I could easily reach it.

  Well, maybe not easily. Bermuda seemed a good fifteen miles away.

  Ice chunks floated over the midnight blue water under the fog, into warmer waters, instantly melting. Some bottles, with notes inside, floated around as well. I put the jacket on and took a breath before rowing on.

  The frigid cold stole the air out of my lungs and left my chest burning. And no, the coat didn’t help much. The cold seeped through the leather and wool, latching onto my flesh like leeches. My hands became numb as I rowed. I’d mentally prepared myself for this. I’d dealt with extreme cold before, but living in Florida had spoiled me. Even so, I kept a steady pace, not fast enough to wear me down and not slow enough to allow the cold to dominate me. I wished the water had frozen over. It was cold enough for it, but maybe the two warmer bodies of water surrounding it kept ice from forming into a solid floor I could simply stroll over.

  Luckily, there was no wind. Not just because of the cold, but because it meant no dreaded storm.

  “Do you really think this is going to work?” Gavin asked, suddenly appearing in the seat in front of me. I’d become used to it by now.

  “I . . . I don’t know.” My breath gusted from my mouth as dense as the fog around us. “I’m not h-h-holding much hope f-f-for it. S-s-so many others have tr-tr-tried this stunt already and n-n-n-nobody’s m-m-made it.”

  “That’s right, bring on the sunshine,” Gavin said, his voice steady and unaffected by the cold. “You expect to die out here, huh?”

  “I’m j-j-just trying to g-g-get home.”

  Gavin sat quiet for a moment. Then, “If you die, I wonder what’ll happen to me.”

  It couldn’t have been more than five minutes but it felt like five hours. My joints stiffened as if the cold had glued them in place. Gavin was kind enough to give me updates about my physical appearance.

  “Damn, dude, your face is really red. Wipe your nose, will ya? Wow, I think ice is forming in your hair.”

  If I didn’t get warm soon, I’d turn into the abominable snowman.

  A breeze gently whisked by. It started as a calm flow that gnawed at me and I shivered. Nothing but fog surrounded me and it began to swirl in spirals, like many little tornados. The wind gusts picked up and the boat started to rock. Within the gray fog, sparks of blue and purplish light popped, then crackled with thunder. Static electricity sparked under my skin.

  “I think this is it,” Gavin said, gripping the edge of the raft with one hand, as if staying on really matte
red. “Row like hell, dude!”

  I did. The storm grew and I thought it best to move quickly. The wind became fierce enough to rip the oars from my hands. I could do nothing but hold onto the sides of the raft and brace myself.

  The raft lifted completely from the water and spun. I kept my eyes shut the entire time. I would’ve screamed but my heart had wedged itself in my throat. I don’t know how long I stayed in the air, spinning around like Dorothy’s house, but before I knew it, the raft slammed into the icy water and threw me out. Cold, biting waves doused me. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs tightened into knots and no air seemed to flow in. The water and wind paralyzed me to the point that I became nothing more than a floating cork. I would’ve gone under if not for the waves pushing me around. The cold was too much for my shocked body to withstand. My heartbeat pulsated in my head, pounding against my skull. Another waved rushed at me. It was the last thing I remember.

  * * *

  “Heath, wake up, damn it!”

  Gavin was saying my name but my mind was on the warmth that embraced me. Liquid warmth.

  Lifting my eyelids was like retracting the curtains of an out-of-focus movie. I blinked several times to sharpen my vision. My face lay on some kind of steel object. I lifted my head to discover it was the wing of a plane. Gavin was crouched down on it.

  “Whoa, that’s a ride that ought to be included at Universal.”

  Every nerve in my body tingled. The tropical water lapped against my back.

  “Watch for the bodies,” Gavin warned.

  I craned my neck to the side to find two bodies floating face down near me. The waves had brought us at least twenty feet into the junkyard. The fog was now light enough to see that much.

  “You all right?” Gavin asked as I found my footing on the uneven ground.

  “No,” I said. My mouth was dry from the saltwater and my throat felt scratchy, as if I had a cactus stuck in it.

  The wind kicked up again and the sky turned into a light show. Thunder boomed like a cannon blast.

  “Another storm?” Gavin said over the howling wind. “Is this place trying to kill you?”

  The wind wasn’t as fierce as before, but it made the boats rock and planes creak. Thunder clashed seconds after the blinding flashes and raindrops the size of my fist poured down. Even over the racket, I heard the sound of something very heavy falling.

  My eyes turned toward the sky. Between a few clear patches within the fog, I witnessed an airplane crashing. It was difficult to tell, but it looked like a Sukhoi Su-31M. There was no engine noise because every electrical function would have failed, just like mine had.

  “I think the spider caught another fly,” Gavin said, watching it as well.

  The aircraft wasn’t far. I could see the pilot eject from the cockpit. Wind blew under the plane’s wing, spinning it in wide circles. It spiraled down to the junkyard like a leaf in a whirling wind. Had that been the way my plane had gone down?

  “There he is!” Gavin shouted. “See him?”

  I did. A red parachute with someone hanging at the end sailed through the sky, toward the silhouette of a large vessel.

  To the pilot’s good fortune, the storm dissolved as rapidly as it materialized, allowing him to glide safely down. I guess once the island captured its victim, the aggressive weather was no longer necessary.

  Adrenaline kicked in and I climbed onto the wing, ready to find the pilot. My whole body ached and I was nauseous from the saltwater I’d swallowed. At one point, I stopped to puke.

  Gavin warned me about sharks as I leapt onto a floating longboat set adrift from a nearby galleon. The life raft I’d brought was lost and I didn’t bother looking for it. This vessel had one oar and was built to accommodate ten grown men. I wished I’d found a dingy instead. A laundry basket floating nearby would have been easier to maneuver than this thing. If only Gavin could help me row.

  Even so, the boat’s heavy body acted as a shield from the sharks’ constant banging. The storm had stirred them up and they were trying to tip me over. With every knock, I shuddered, especially when their heads emerged and my oh-shit expression reflected in their black eyes. Luckily, I didn’t have to go far before I reached a cluster of wreckage.

  I wedged the longboat between the cockpit of a F9F-2 Panther and the tail of a Cessna. Using the rudder to hoist myself up, I got away from the hungry beasts. When I felt safe, I continued across the junkyard, now following the pilot’s desperate cries.

  “We ain’t far now,” Gavin stated. “Come on!”

  I did my best to quicken my pace. The pilot didn’t call out much, but with Gavin’s guidance, I made my way over the wreckage and came to the stern of a slightly tilted yacht. A capsized cargo ship sat before me with a thirty-foot-wide expanse of water between us.

  “Where is he?”

  “Up there.”

  I looked around.

  “Higher, idiot,” Gavin said.

  I lifted my eyes and spied the pilot dangling from the freighter’s crane eighty feet up. I couldn’t make out any details of his face.

  “Best tell him not to cut himself loose,” Gavin warned, staring down at the water.

  I turned my attention to where his was. Fins pierced the murky water’s surface. “Damn it. I bet those are the same sharks that followed me.”

  “Don’t cut the cords!” I shouted up at the pilot. “There are sharks down here and the water isn’t that deep!”

  The pilot turned his head in my direction. “Yeah! I can see them. I’m gonna try swinging over and climbing down!”

  I knew that voice. “Starr?”

  Again, the man looked at me. “Sharp? Is that you?”

  My grin stretched from ear to ear. I should’ve thought as much, seeing his Sukhoi Su-31M. He’d bought it junked and had it restored like he’d done with most of his other planes. It was the only one in his collection with an ejector seat.

  “Jesus, it is you!” I said. “What the hell are you doing here? Actually, hold that thought. Let’s get you out of this mess first.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Starr said in his casual manner.

  I needed a boat to get to the freighter while he climbed down. I thought about going back for the longboat, but I searched the yacht instead and found another life raft. The rubber was thick but would it withstand a shark bite? I doubted it.

  I told Starr to hang tight—no pun intended—that I’d be back soon to fetch him, then hurried through the wreckage, wondering how long it would take to row around it. The cluster consisted of three small yachts, two fighter planes, and the Cessna I’d lifted myself onto. A mess for sure, but not very wide around.

  I found another oar and brought it back to the longboat. When the boat had become wedged in the wreckage, I’d failed to notice a hole one of the sharks had made in it. Water swallowed the boat in a long slow gulp and I had the pleasure of watching it go under.

  “Shit.”

  Starr shouted for me to get back and I did.

  “My chute is tearing,” he said. “Every time I swing, it tears.”

  “Then stop swinging.”

  “I’m gonna fall, man!”

  Without a choice, I pulled the cord on the life raft and let it inflate on the yacht’s deck. I needed some kind of weapon to defend myself against the sharks and remembered a flare gun and ammo in the captain’s helm. Whoever had owned the yacht had no common sense about using their survival gear. Stupid for them but fortunate for me.

  I aimed the flare gun at the water where the sharks circled. They were close enough to the surface for a kill shot. Remembering what had happened the last time I’d done this, I fired. I nailed one on the back and it thrashed around amid a blinding red and white fireball. I almost felt sorry for the damn thing. It went under with its buddies following. A violent battle ensued as the sharks attacked. While they did, I slid the raft into the water, took a deep breath, and jumped into it. With the sharks distracted, I had time to row out to the cargo ship and plant myself
under Starr.

  “Cut yourself loose!” I called to him.

  I worried that once he landed, the raft would burst and we’d be at the mercy of the sharks. But we had no other choice. Starr couldn’t get himself over to climb down and I couldn’t climb up to help him.

  Starr sliced through the parachute cords. I turned my attention to the water, watching for any sign of a shark. I reloaded the flare gun and aimed at the water, hoping for two things—the sharks to fill up on their friend and leave us alone, and that Starr wouldn’t land on me. I couldn’t say which ranked higher on my list.

  “Geronimo!” Starr cried.

  I whipped my head up as he plummeted. Right then, my plan went to shit. He fell as hard as a sack of cement blocks. The instant before he landed, I realized he wasn’t going to land on his feet, but on his ass. That shouldn’t be too bad.

  What happened next reminded me of when I’d been a child playing in an inflatable bouncy house and bigger kids bounced me right off my feet. Starr sent me up, out, and into the water.

  Sharks! Oh, God, sharks! That was my immediate thought.

  In a panic, I fired the flare gun, unleashing another fireball into nothing. The dirty water prevented me from seeing anything more than a foot down, but I didn’t remain in the water for long. I must’ve been a trout in my past life the way I leapt back into the life raft and landed halfway in.

  “Pull me in! Pull me in!” I shouted hysterically.

  Starr grabbed the back of my collar and belt and hoisted me into the raft.

  “Row! Row!” I yelled as I flipped over on my back and sat up.

  “With what?” Starr asked.

  “Hey, I know that guy,” Gavin chimed. “I’ve seen you talking to him before we went out flying. Should’a rung a bell when you said his name. I’ve never been good with names, though. Faces, voices, that’s what I recall.”

  I only half listened to him. I was too busy looking at the oar that had bounced out with me, floating in the water, too far for me to reach.