Gods and Men- The Hank Boyd Omnibus, page 11
part #1 of Gods and Men Series
Kane stands back up and dusts himself off.
“Why do you think the End hasn’t shown his face more over the years?” I ask, staring back up at the ominous warning.
“Who says he hasn’t?” Kane replies.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“If this guy can control the elements of the entire globe, who says he hasn’t influenced major storms and other natural disasters over the years. Would it shock you if we find out that the Tsunami that wiped out a large chunk of Indonesia was caused by him?”
Silence fills the eerie tomb entrance again, but thankfully not for long.
“So, now what?” Omar asks.
Good question, I think. What the hell do we do?
Without much of an answer to give, I say the only thing I can, “What we’re here to do. We head in the direction of the Tassili mountains and see where it takes us.” I turn around and look at Dad. “What direction?”
He pulls out a compass and checks it. “The Tassili’s are northeast of our current location.”
“Fine, northeast it is,” I say. “Kane, would you mind?”
He ejects his magazine, checks it and slams it home. It seems to be a thing with him regardless if he’s used the weapon or not. It’s like a nervous tick or something. Everyone has one. I readjust my hat over-and-over when I get a little uneasy.
“Okay everyone,” Kane says, “eyes forward and weapons at the ready. Safeties are off until further notice. Also, keep your barrels pointed away from each other. Let’s not have an accident down here, alright?”
We all nod.
“Hank, up front with me. Dr. Boyd and Omar behind us.” He glances over to Nicole. “You and the boys…guard our rears.” He gives her a smile like referencing her handguns in that way was the best joke ever.
She stares daggers at him, not finding anything humorous, but Kane doesn’t budge.
I laugh but get cut off when her cold stare turns on me.
Not funny.
I, unlike Kane, melt under her gaze. “Please?”
She rolls her eyes at us, drawing her other Ruger, and files in.
Kane turns and faces northeast towards our objective. In the collective light we’re giving off, I see a tunnel deeper into the room. Its entrance is straight ahead to the northeast, beckoning us forward.
“Okay, let’s move.” He takes a step and pauses, turning back to us. “But, if a mummy or something jumps out at me I’m gone. Back up the hole.”
24
The next hour dragged by with nothing out of the ordinary happening. The tunnel wound back-and-forth like crazy which caused a distance of about a mile to actually measure out to be closer to five. I also noticed that we’ve been moving ever so slightly downhill, deeper underground—under the Tassili rock art actually. The fact that there’s a historical site above our heads is a pretty good indicator why this place was never found.
Thankfully, the ambient temperature below the surface was considerably cooler than the surface. “Quite comfortable,” as Dad put it. Kane and Nicole were the only ones to still have their weapons drawn, although Nicole did holster one of her two Rugers.
The walls, something I still can’t explain, kept our attention off of the time and monotony of the hike.
“The inscriptions and pictographs are incredible!” Dad exclaims. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.” He’s been so focused on the ornate carvings, covering every square foot of the tunnel walls, that we sometimes catch him stopping and examining them. We had to forcibly drag him away from them once or twice already.
“Dr. Boyd,” Kane says, “we need to keep moving. We don’t have a lot of time—”
“Give him a second, would you?” I interrupt. “This is why we’re here after all.”
Kane relents, and I join my father and add my light to his. Nicole and Omar add theirs as well, doubling the view. We light up a section of wall that has a large pictograph etched into it. It’s a scene that at first doesn’t make sense. It’s so big that you have to scan it by walking back-and-forth to take in its entirety.
“What is it?” I ask, stepping to the left. The right has a group of people standing on what resembles a shoreline maybe. It’s hard to tell though.
“It’s a battle…I think?” Dad says from the right half of the engraving. “Omar, would you mind getting a few photos?”
Omar steps up and pulls out his expensive looking Nikon and starts snapping some pictures. His flash lights up the room twice as good as our flashlights do.
When the first flash blooms, it causes my eyes to dilate. In turn, I get a little lightheaded too. I brace myself, grabbing the wall—the one with the intense combat—for support. As I make contact with it, I black out and start seeing strange visions.
FLASH!
Lightning, raining fire, like a volcano erupting, and a blizzard, together. But it’s ash, not snow.
FLASH!
A tall man in black robes is in the middle of it all, hands outstretched. He calls to the elements, beckoning them to listen.
FLASH!
Three others, hands raised in defiance, trying to block the onset. Then, I see them, people…thousands of them. They flee from the maelstrom at the coast, looking for shelter.
FLASH!
I let go and fall to the ground, panting.
Dad rushes to me. “Harrison! What happened?”
“I…I don’t know. I just touched the wall and…”
I open my eyes and look up at the picture. It’s exactly the same, the three trying to stop the one. The people on the shoreline were there too. I actually saw glimpses of the final battle that destroyed this lost civilization.
That doesn’t solve the issue of what I’m going to tell the others though. If I tell them, they’ll think I’m nuts. I’ll give it some time to stew and come back to it later. Maybe, I’ll have more answers then. Either way, this place is starting to give me an awful feeling. Unfortunately, I think this was just the tip of the iceberg.
“It’s fine. I’m good. I’m just tired, and my nerves are still shot from the fall. It may have just been my shocked system telling me I need some rest.”
Dad helps me stand. “It’s been a rough couple of days.”
I step back like nothing happened and do my leader thing.
“Omar, can you leave your flash on?” I ask. “I think I saw something else.”
Omar backs up as far as he can and turns on his flash. The wall is now in perfect view, and it’s incredible. The detail is so in-depth that it looks like it was drawn on a sheet of paper, not scribed into a wall.
“Whoa,” Kane says from behind us, seeing what I saw. “Is that…”
“The elders,” I say. “Locked in battle with a fourth. It also helps us understand where the legend came from—a starting point at least.”
“What’s he doing?” Nicole asks, pointing to the fourth elder.
Dad and I creep closer to further analyze the mural. It shows three figures fending off another. The fourth man has his hands raised to the sky as if calling to it. Lightning rains down on the other three combatants along with fire and ice.
“Geez, this guy’s bringing the kitchen sink,” Kane says.
You have no idea, I think to myself, replaying the vision I just had.
“What does this have to do with kitchen sinks?” Nicole asks.
“It’s uh…nothing. It’s just a figure of speech,” Kane replies, trying not to laugh. “It means he’s bringing everything he’s got to the party.”
“And then some,” Dad adds still in awe of the artistry on display. I don’t blame him either. What’s even more amazing is that this image is easily thousands of years old—maybe older. The way we view human history is absolutely going to change with this discovery.
“This also lends credence to the belief that at least one of the elders had control over the elements. Just like the legend says,” Dad says in a trance-like state. “Plus, you have to assume that the other three had some talents of their own if they are trying to stop him.”
“Um, guys…” Nicole says. “There’s more.”
She’s turned around, facing the wall behind us. Dad pulls Omar away and forcibly spins him to face the opposite side of the tunnel. With a look of disdain at being manhandled, he points his flash forward.
Wow.
These sets of images are a little more lighthearted than the epic battle now behind us. It shows agricultural advancements, water travel in ancient ships, and the building of elaborate palaces. All of which is on a massive island, set into an even bigger body of water, but with a coast off in the distance. Maybe the Sahara before it dried up? I think. It also curiously shows four people at the center of the ringed landmass, joined hand-in-hand in celebration.
“It’s…Atlantis,” I say in a whisper.
We just stare and marvel at the sight. With confidence, I can say that this is the first ever concrete evidence of the ancient island nation. No one else says a word. What do you say when you discover something as significant as this?
“So, what happened to this place?” Kane asks almost saddened.
Dad and I look up at him and then each other.
“Some say a storm wiped out the island,” Dad replies. “Others say it was a volcano that erupted. Some others say an underwater earthquake sank it.”
“No one really knows…” I add.
“Yet,” Nicole finishes.
I smile and nod slightly.
Dad straightens. “Because we are going to find out!”
The moral is high, and the mood is light…until the ground rumbles and shakes like we’re in that volcano we just mentioned. Everybody stops, and nobody breathes. Five seconds later, the shaking ceases, and we collect ourselves.
“Alright everyone, let’s get moving,” I say, glancing at the nervous faces around me. The words are empty. I’m officially scared shitless, but I need to be strong for everyone else—or at least pretend to be. The worst part is that we’ll be moving towards the rumbling, deeper underground. I decide to keep that nugget of truth to myself, although, I’m sure the others already know it.
We all start on our way except for one of us.
“Keep moving, Dr. Boyd,” Kane orders, his tone becoming annoyed. “They’ve been here this long, I think they’ll be here on our way back through.”
Dad wants to but doesn’t fight the big man’s logic. It’s like a paleontologist finding a dinosaur skeleton and being afraid it won’t be there tomorrow.
“So, do we have any idea what to expect once we reach…wherever…we’re going?” Omar asks from the middle of the pack.
“I have some theories, but nothing concrete,” I reply. The truth is, every hypothesis I have going on in my head feels like it should be in a screenplay for a low-budget sci-fi adventure movie. I’m not even sure I even have a real supposition to speak of, just my imagination coming up with anything related to our location.
“Honestly, I’m not sure myself what to expect,” Dad answers truthfully. “All we have to go on is exactly what Harrison said—theories.” He looks at me. “None of which has ever been actually proven.”
“Hold up,” Kane says.
I join him at the front of the line, quiet as a mouse.
“What is it?” I ask softly, barely a whisper. All I can see is that towards the end of the beam of my headlamp the floor gives way, or at the very least slopes down. It’s hard to tell from our vantage point either way.
Kane puts his index finger up to his lips, the universal sign for shut up, then points to his ear. I don’t hear anything. Then I hold my breath and close my eyes. In the utter darkness and calmness of nothingness, I hear it.
“Is that water?” I ask still staying quiet.
“Sure sounds like it to me,” Kane says. “Maybe an underground river?” He faces me. “Have the others follow behind you slowly, stay about ten feet behind me just in case.” He pulls out a secondary LED flashlight, about the size of a standard Maglite and clicks it on. Our view doubles and we see an opening thirty feet, or so, in front of us.
Kane holds his flashlight with his left hand, palm down and crossed in front of his chest. In his right hand, he has his gun positioned directly above it. He creeps forward as if he’s holding a medieval shield in front of him, ready to battle a fiery dragon. His sword, however, has a much different type of bite—louder too.
We group up behind him and carefully make our way towards the unknown. No one speaks. We keep our footing as soft as possible, which is easy considering the ground is perfectly smooth, like the finest marble floors in the world. I wish I had more time to look around. It would be the second time today I ogled something beautifully mysterious. The first being the blonde walking next to me.
The tunnel’s exit is just ahead, maybe another ten feet in front of Kane. We’re all about to cross the threshold into the next chapter of our journey, when Kane holds up a closed fist, signaling for us to stop.
“Hank, would you mind?” Kane asks in a hushed tone.
I step up next to him. “What did you…find…” I can’t get the rest question out. In front of me is something I thought I’d never find in this place, or ever for that matter. All the speculation surrounding Atlantis has been completely thrown out the window. This is one of the most incredible experiences I’ve ever been a part of, but it’s also one of the most shocking.
Incredible doesn’t always mean ‘good.’
Taking in our view, I can’t think of anything else to say. So instead of trying to come up with something perfectly poetic like they do in the movies, I just say what I normally would when something fills me with dread.
“We’re screwed.”
25
The rest of the group joins us at the tunnel exit after hearing my reaction to what I saw. Each and every one of them now share Kane and my bewilderment. We’re at the edge of a cavern, easily the size of a lake. A really big lake. The outer rim of this bowl is round and looks like it may have actually been a body of water or possibly an impact crater of some kind at one point in the past.
There are decorative stairs, leading down to ground level from our position. The staircase is about four feet wide and has no railings, which is unnerving considering we’re a good hundred feet off the ground.
But the stairway is nothing compared to the scene before us. Stretched out, barely far enough for our lights to reach, is what looks like a pyramid of some kind. From here I can faintly see the outline, like a shadow on the wall.
Geez, I think. How big is this place? The monolith looks to have the same stepladder construction as the ones in the Valley of the Kings, in Egypt. Except, this one appears to be jet black in color. It’s tough to tell from this distance for sure though. Actually, everything I see within the range of our light is also black.
I glance over and see Dad thinking.
“What is it?”
“I’m concerned with this place,” he says.
“Um…duh?” I say. “Aren’t we all?”
Everyone nods.
“Not for the same reason,” he says. “This entire section seems to be black where the rest is made of orichalcum and beautifully ornate. This is flat, dark and foreboding. Not a good sign.”
Now that he mentions it, I’ve been feeling like there was a presence in the air, almost like something was drawing me here—and not in a good way. Ever since I almost fell to my death through the trap door, I’ve felt it. I relay my worry and the strange feeling I’ve been experiencing to everyone.
“Not good,” Kane says, immediately. “Soldiers rely heavily on their instinct. We’re trained to trust them explicitly. They keep you alive in times like this.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Nicole asks a tinge of worried fear in her voice.
“Just wonderful,” Omar squeaks out, shaking his head.
Dad says nothing.
“What are you so concerned about, Dad?”
“The color,” he answers, plainly.
“The color?” Kane asks, eyebrow raised. “Sorry, but can we discuss the paint job later?”
“Yes, the color,” Dad replies, ignoring Kane’s snarky remark. “The change from one room to the next signifies a boundary, and we’ve stepped through it.”
“What do the colors represent?” Nicole asks.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he says.
He gets a blank look from everyone except me.
“Good versus Evil,” I explain. “Or at least it represents it. Whatever is held inside that tomb is thought to have been malevolent in nature. The fact it was buried a hundred-plus stories underground doesn’t exactly make it charming either.”
“Tomb?” Omar asks in a shaky tone.
“Yes, pyramids were historically used as tombs for the kings of ancient Egypt,” Dad answers.
“They were also used as places of worship by the early Mesoamerica tribes, like the Inca and Aztec people,” I counter, trying to spin this in a positive way.
“Very true, but does this look like a place of worship to you?”
He got me there. In fact, it looks like a place of sacrifice and death, but I keep that thought silent.
I turn back towards the foreboding black pyramid, speaking aloud, but mostly to myself, “Not a chance in Hell.”
With nothing else to say, we just look off into the distance at the menacing looking structure. We’re all terrified at what could be inside, but we’re also intrigued by it. This entire place is like nothing that has ever been found before. The only way we can confirm or deny anything is to keep moving.
Kane starts us down, heading towards whatever awaits us inside the mausoleum.
“Look, more inscriptions,” Omar says, kneeling down and tracing a finger over the writing in the stairs.
“But, this looks to be, Chinese?” Nicole says. “Or, at least an earlier form of it, like the proto-Greek from before.”
“She’s right,” Kane states. “It’s a type of Chinese script.”
I look over at him and see he’s already trying to translate it.
“You read Mandarin?” I ask.
He nods. “Speak some too. I did some off-the-books work in Asia a few years back. Learning the language came in handy.”
