by K. T. Tomb
“Evan Knight, I can’t do it. I can’t get to the sword. I have failed my sisters, you, Mother Daughter, and Eden.”
She started to cry as Knight comforted her.
“You haven’t failed anyone. You just have to get it, before the snake consumes everything in Eden. Think about your task, Jess.”
Evan watched her as she buried her face in her hands.
“Listen carefully,” Knight said. “You need to go up the snake’s back to get the sword. You can’t do that, because it’s a little nuts after eating the Tree of Knowledge. You have to use what you can to get to the sword. It’s simple physics.”
She smiled and then grimaced.
“I know what I have to do. Thank you, Evan Knight. You really are the Chosen One.”
She sighed and ran toward the snake. She gritted her teeth with each step on the twisted ankle. She looked up at the sword and then the snake’s tail. She jumped up and into the path of it. It swatted her into the mountain about 40 feet away from the sword. She held her side and ran back to the snake, checking the location of the sword again. She jumped up toward the tail and it hit her into the mountain again. This time, she ended up at the base of the ledge. Her ears were ringing and she had a cut on her forehead.
She would not be able to keep that up for long. Even a Daughter of Eve had her limits.
Shala limped out of the forest and froze when she saw the snake.
Jess ran at it again. Her ankle bothered more and more with each attempt. She jumped again and landed on the tail. It whipped around as she tried to hang on. She kept her eyes on the sword as her head started spin. She started to lose her balance, but she knew that it was all up to her. Jess knew she had to find (inside of her), what Evan had found inside of him in order to finish the task.
She felt the tail whip up in the air. That was her chance. She saw the ledge that she needed to be on. Her head spun so much she almost fell off of the snake’s back but she knew it was her last chance; Eden would be lost if she couldn’t do it.
Jess’ arms shook as she pushed herself off of the snake. She could barely see the ledge as she twisted her body for the right angle to land. Her back slammed into the mountain. She slid down and suddenly stopped. She was there.
There was no time for celebration as she slowly stood to see the snake was finally getting its bearings. Her gaze went to the sword and then the snake; it was gearing up to eat both her and the tree. She cleared her mind and thought of nothing but the sword and Evan Knight.
If this was to be her last battle, then she would die saving her beloved Evan. Nothing was worth more than that.
She yelled as her body ached, and ran with everything she had toward the sword; launching herself from the ledge. It was all or nothing.
Out of the corner of her eye, Jess saw the snake open its jaws as she stretched for the sword. Her fingers grasped the hilt and she smiled as the snaked closed its mouth around her.
It fell to the ground and coiled up while it faced Knight. He forced himself to stand up as he glared at the snake.
“Come on, you son of a bitch! I will crawl down into your ugly gut and pull my woman out of there! Come on!”
It was about to strike, when it’s underside started to glow red. Knight backed up against the base of the mountain. The snake appeared to be in pain and started to swing its head back and forth. It slammed its head several times into the ground as the red glow grew brighter.
All of a sudden, the snake exploded. Pieces of snake flew in every direction. Knight hid his eyes from the explosion, but he was covered in snake guts.
“Great. I will never get this stench off of me.”
When he saw Jessima IL Eve standing in the middle of the carnage. Evan’s heart was filled with joy. She stood before him wielding the flaming sword just as she did in his painting. It was finally over.
Epilogue
Calisto, Shala, Madeira, Jess, and Knight sat with their backs up against the base of the mountain as they heard a helicopter getting close.
Knight looked confused when he saw the Chinook that had taken Alexey out of Eden returning.
Jess helped Knight up. All five of them walked slowly toward where the Chinook landed. The sliding side doors opened and Geronimo jumped out.
“Hey, dudes! Wow. You guys look like shit. I’m kind of glad I was out there. I take it we won?”
Knight bowed his head.
“We had considerable losses, but yeah. I guess we did.”
Boris Milek stepped out as well. He was smiling.
“I would like to congratulate you on your victory. I too, have been victorious.” He stepped out of the way to reveal Alexey Konstantin and the Iranian pilot bound and gagged. “We will take our leave now.”
Geronimo gently placed his hand on Knight’s shoulder.
“Once you and Jess tie up your loose ends, we can be on our way.”
Knight smiled at Jess. She smiled back at him.
“You’re not coming back, are you?” Geronimo said, with less enthusiasm.
“No, Geronimo. We’re not going back,” Knight said confidently. “Somebody has to get things back up and running around here.”
That’s fantastic!” Geronimo replied sarcastically. “I’m going to miss you both.”
Shala looked at Milek.
“How do we know we can trust that the mortals will keep our secret?”
Milek smiled.
“The world appears to be a better place with you Amazons in it. We will not disclose your location.”
“Daughters of Eve,” Jess corrected.
Calisto smiled at Jess.
“Actually we need a new Mother Daughter. I nominate Jessima IL Eve!”
“I second the nomination!” shouted Madeira.
Jess looked at Shala. “What about you Shala?”
Shala glared at Jess. “I make it unanimous.”
Jess embraced her sisters as she stared at Shala.
“I feel that my first order of business is to find out who the traitor was.”
Calisto walked up to Milek. “Would it be alright if we came with you? All we would need is a ride to the outskirts of any city.”
“Yes,” Shala added. “We would like to see the world again. It’s been a very, very long time.”
Jess nodded. “Please leave the other helicopter here. We will have to get supplies from time to time.”
“Agreed,” Milek said. We must go if we are going.”
He got back into the helicopter.
Calisto and Madeira also got in. They were excited to see the outside world. Right before Shala got in she leaned to Jess and said, “The traitor is dead, Jessima.”
Geronimo hugged Evan tightly. “I got to tell you “Evan.” those guys in black are pretty cool.”
“You know who they are, don’t you?” Knight responded.
“Hell yeah!” replied Geronimo as he laughed. “But they picked up your tank from the hillside and helped me fry some Iranians. I owe ‘em. You and Jess take care. I have a great adventure to tell Molly about.”
Jess was about to say something, but Geronimo continued, “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to leave out certain details.” He winked and gave Jess a bear hug.
***
As the Chinook flew out of sight, Jess and Knight were alone for the first time.
Knight looked concerned.
“I’m honored I was helpful in fulfilling the prophecy. I’m just worried.”
“About Shala?” Jess responded. “She got what she wanted. She is free to move about the world and explore it as she likes. I assume that will keep her busy enough.”
“Yeah,” Knight replied, matter-of-factly. “I guess we can start with the repopulation now.”
“Evan Knight!” she said, as she playfully slapped his shoulder.
“One thing though, Jess,” he said. “When it comes to things like Eden…there always has to be a representative for good and a representative for evil. Good has you in its corner. So who’s
the evil?”
Jess said nothing as she kissed him.
The End
Thank you for reading the
Evan Knight Trilogy
I hope you enjoyed it.
Return to the Table of Contents
GHOSTS OF THE TITANIC
An adventure novel
by
K.T. TOMB
Ghosts of the Titanic
Published by K.T. Tomb
Copyright © 2014 by K.T. Tomb
All rights reserved.
Ebook Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Dedication
The author wishes to dedicate this book to the late
Joel Rosenberg.
Ghosts of the Titanic
Chapter One
April 10th, 1912
Southampton, United Kingdom
The young woman clutched the large carpet bag she carried, her knuckles nearly white with tension.
The rush of the crowd pressed around her, voices blending together in the salty sea air. The hull of the ship loomed before her and the hundreds of other passengers stood around waiting to board. She had never seen such a ship in her life and the sight of it took her breath away. Her other hand pulled the woven brown scarf tightly around her unruly black curly hair. She had it tucked under the coarse fabric in an effort to hide her aristocratic station.
With the scarf and the long, rough workman’s coat, she very nearly blended in with the others waiting to board; but if someone cared to look closely at her, they would have noticed the smoothness of her porcelain skin, which had never been in the sun for more than an afternoon stroll, the softness of her hands which had never known hard labor. She pulled the coat closer around her body, hoping that no one could see the fine silk fabric of the dress she wore underneath it. She had left in a hurry from her family’s estate; escaping everything with only the contents of the carpet bag, a few belongings and a small chest containing her dowry, a little satchel full of diamonds. Once she took the final step onto the ship, everything she had ever known would be gone from her life forever. Even so, she welcomed the prospect of it, because everything she had ever hoped to live for would be waiting for her once they reached the shores of America; an ordinary life with her true love.
Shuffling into the crowd of emigrants had been her first step to escaping her father’s manservant, whom had surely followed her as she had slipped out of the estate, despite all her efforts to be careful and avoid being followed. Donning the outer garments of the lower class, she could blend into the crowd, becoming nearly invisible to prying eyes. A plethora of dialects surrounded her from the voices of those in the crowd. A woman, not much different in age from herself, bustled by holding tightly to the hands of three small children; one in one hand, two in tow on the other side. The woman rattled off a deep Scandinavian admonishment to the children as she rushed by. The young aristocrat glanced at the ramps leading into the ship. A delicate webbing, layers of walkways with multiple check points where the throngs of people bottle necked with their tickets and bags. Some in fine clothes, some in the only garments they had left.
“Dasha!” a voice called to her through the crowd calling her by the pet name he had given her.
She turned to see the face of her lover, Stephan Ivanovich, struggling toward her through the crowd, waving two boarding passes. Darya tried to signal for him to be quiet as she glanced around nervously. She had not seen any of her father’s servants since she had left the estate, but she knew they could be near nonetheless. Once on board the ship, they could behave more freely; no one would know them, and she knew no one could board without a ticket. He had secured a room – a nice room, just as he had promised her, despite her insistence of a low profile. Stephan explained that he wanted nothing less than what she had grown up with.
He reached her at last, and clutched her free hand with his.
“Be careful, my love,” she whispered into his ear over the noise of the crowd. “I don’t know who may have followed us.”
He smiled at her, just inches from her face, his ice-blue eyes locking with her own. He replied, “We are moments from freedom.”
She smiled despite herself.
“Tickets!”
They had reached the checkpoint and a surly looking man looked at the two of them, expectantly waiting for one of them to produce the document indicating that they could board the ship. Stephan handed him the tickets. The man glanced at the couple suspiciously after seeing the first-class room number and accommodations listed on the documents. Darya held the carpet bag with both hands, certain that they would be found out. Stephan smiled at the ticket master, placing his arm around Darya’s shoulders. For a moment, the three of them remained frozen in an absurd tableau; the ticket master certain that he had received forged boarding passes, Darya certain that police arrest was imminent, and Stephan smiling serenely and exuding an aura of confidence, certain that in moments they would be aboard the ship.
“I see your confusion, good sir.” Stephan spoke first. “I can assure you our tickets are genuine. My traveling companion and I have had no choice but to dress somewhat incognito as we are traveling in such a manner as we did not wish to draw attention to ourselves.”
“Stephan, no!” Darya said in a hushed tone.
“Darling,” he continued. “If this man is to let us board this ship, we must tell him the truth. He is rightly doing his job to be suspicious of a pair of working-class emigrants who have tickets to a first class suite aboard the grandest ship ever built.”
He turned back to the ticket master.
“You see, my fiance and I are going to America. There we will wed and begin our new life together. I have sold everything I own for those tickets.”
Sensing the man’s continued doubt, Stephan continued.
“I may not have had much in the way of material possessions, but my family had a bit of land and a farm which I have sold. I was able to secure a good price and with that gain, I purchased these tickets for my love and I.”
The ticket master glanced from one to the other as he began to raise his hand to the armed guards on the other side of the docks. Darya noticed in a moment what the man was about to do. She unbuttoned the coat she wore, exposing her aristocratic silk day dress tied with a pale sash at her waistline.
“I purchased the tickets,” she said, with a firmness she had not felt up to this moment. “My companion is telling the truth about us being wed. As you can see, I am traveling in such a manner as to avoid drawing attention to us. Now while I still possess a great deal of influence among the society of my family, we are trying to remain unnoticed. It would be a shame for us to experience any misfortune. Certainly you understand, we are young and see nothing but our future. Perhaps you were in love once?”
Darya tilted her head and smiled at the man who lowered his signaling hand.
“I see,” he said.
A distant look drifted over his eyes as he took in Darya’s words.
“You see?” Stephan repeated.
“Of course.”
He placed a small mark on each of their tickets and handed them back to the couple. With a sweep of his arm, he stepped aside and granted them access to the boarding ramp leading into the ship. Darya did not only see a ramp into the ship. She saw before her the opening of a cage door, to which she could at long last escape the stiff rules of her aristocratic upbringing. Once they reached America, they would sell the dowry diamonds and use the money to start a life together. The man next to her may not have met with her parents’ approval, but she would not live without him. She took his hand and they stepped forward toward their shared destiny. The sweetness of the sea and the bright blue sky embraced her as if the sky itself were sharing in her joy.
“Stephan Ivanovich, Darya Nikita,” the ticket master said, with great ceremony. “Welcome to the Titanic.”
>
***
June 17th, 2014
Off the coast of Newfoundland, Canada
“We need to see your verification forms!”
“Let me stop the boat,” First Officer Franco Michaels called to the large Coast Guard cutter that had pulled up next to the diving vessel. The wake of the other ship caused the small diving support boat to sway in the currents. Franco barely noticed. He’d spent more time on the water than he had on land for most of his life. He wore a red knit cap to protect his bald head from the midday sun and salty air. His leathery hands rested on the railing of the prow of his boat, the DSV Diamond. Franco glanced behind him into the captain’s outlook, seeing the man resting his feet upon the console through the window.
He waved over to the Coast Guard, who had made it clear that they were coming aboard for inspection. Franco had known this job would be risky, but he knew the guy who had provided him with the forged permits. He had owed Franco a favor. The Coast Guard pulled alongside the small diving vessel, dwarfing the small boat. The cutter’s red prow jutted out bright against the silver-gray sea. The Coast Guard officer boarded the ship, pulling himself up by the ladder alongside the prow. He carried himself like most other seafarers, knowing how to move in the rhythm of the ocean’s sway.
Franco handed him the permits. The forms stated that Franco and his crew were sailing off the coast for the purpose of underwater documentary filming; they had full clearance with the Newfoundland Film Commission. The man took them from Franco and glanced them over, his eyes hidden by his mirror lens sunglasses.
“Documentaries, eh?” the officer said, pulling the shades down and giving Franco a once over.
“Yes, sir,” Franco nodded, jutting his chin toward the documents. “Everything should be in order there.”
“What, uh... what kind of equipment is used for an expedition such as this?” the officer asked.