Gods and Men- The Hank Boyd Omnibus, page 16
part #1 of Gods and Men Series
Halfway 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 mass. This particular monument reminds me of the Jefferson Memorial in D.C., standing around eighteen feet tall, twenty-five if you add in the height of the stand it’s perched on. The features of this man are incredibly lifelike to boot. 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 nameplate, 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 journeyed east to establish what would become ancient Egypt.” I turn to the others. Judging by their confused looks, they don’t know the tale, which I now realize is fact and not fiction. 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 brought his people to a new home during the kingdom’s final days.”
I then notice another symbol, this one giving me a different sort of feeling though…one of hope. Thoth, who is facing the pyramid as if holding it at bay, has his right arm stretched out in front of him, holding something. I take a step back and see the object for what it is. It’s an ankh! I think. It’s one of the oldest Egyptian hieroglyphs, meaning life, and it 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.
We spin around at the sudden outburst of automatic gunfire originating 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 while we were in there too. We got lucky.
More gunfire erupts from somewhere in the forest, along with a roar ten times louder than 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.
One thing is clear, regardless of what it actually is, it’s putting up one hell of a fight. It took three of us to take down Rhonar. Whatever that thing turns out to be, it’s going up against a half dozen or so trained assassins with assault rifles.
The three of us look down at the seemingly puny handguns we’re holding and realize how outmatched we are. We don’t wait for confirmation that the monster survived the assault, it wouldn’t really matter either way. Instead, we run like greyhounds, straight for the entrance of the pyramid, to hell with caution.
As we pass through the doorway, I recognize something written in the black stone surface. It’s another Omega symbol from before, and this one is also accompanied by text. But since we don’t exactly have time to stop and smell the roses, or in this case read the glyphs, I’m not a hundred percent sure what it said. But, if it’s anything like the other ominous warning we saw earlier, then I’d bet money it saying the same thing
Save yourself from hell.
35
It takes us all of twenty-six seconds to sprint the distance to the gate. Not exactly Usain Bolt, but under the circumstances, I think we made damn good time. I’m even more surprised, and downright impressed that Kane got here without having to stop. He’s been holding his side ever since he got thumped 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 pack, 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.
“Thousand milligram ibuprofen,” he replies, in between gulps. “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 had 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. She instantly smiles at our disgust. She then 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 pauses, 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 a dead man, waiting for Nicole to pull her Ruger and shoot the big, dumb ox in his big, dumb head. 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’s no way I’d have the balls to say that to her, but it’s amazing to know she has that type of personality. Plus, I seriously doubt Kane has the feelings for her like I’m starting to have. I’d try to impress her and just bumble through, sounding like a thirteen-year-old boy asking a girl to a dance.
Do they still have school dances?
“Ahem,” I say through a cough, motioning to the gloomy entrance. “May we?”
Kane winks and steps up to the already opened gate, clicking 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 consistently 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 mine for their benefit. Plus, having two LED-based light sources would really screw with my night vision. Probably blind myself. 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,” Kane replies, “because they’re as good as dead if they’re still outside. This place is crawling with those things, 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 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’re descending down another tunnel, deeper underground. It begins to spiral to the left at a constant arc, causing my knees and back to moan in ecstasy.
“At least it’s not more stairs,” Kane mumbles, unknowingly agreeing with my body and me.
We continue our plunge deeper and deeper into the Earth, not knowing when we’ll pop out and to what we’ll find when we do.
“How deep do you think we are now?” Nicole asks after fifteen minutes of silent, steady travel.
“Give or take…maybe another five hundred feet deeper or so,” Kane answers. “That would be my guess anyway.” He then turns to me. “What do you think, Hank?”
I haven’t heard a word. I’m deep in thought, reliving everything that’s transpired so far. “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 outer body experience—or at the very least an epiphany. 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 ninety-nine 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.
I see their surprised expressions. “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 stop and turn to 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 and why it was never recorded in any historical writings—including their own. I asked my dad the same thing and…” I get choked up and catch myself mid-sentence. I never realized how worried I was for my father’s safety.
I feel a comforting hand on mine.
“We’ll find him, Hank,” Nicole says, “I promise.” She then gives it a gentle squeeze and lets it linger there for a second longer before pulling it away. Then, like nothing happened, she draws both her Rugers and inspects them, ending the moment.
I glance over at Kane. He gives me a double eyebrow 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,” Kane says also drawing both his weapons, checking each weapon’s slide and both magazines.
“Agreed,” I say, looking back and forth between the two people holding four guns, “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, unable to formulate a concrete hypothesis about this place. There are just too many unanswered questions still. I go to stand, but Nicole grabs my hand again, but this time not as gentle. She pulls me back down…hard.
“Not a chance,” she says. “You need some rest.” She looks over to Kane for support and the big man quickly just nods, actually looking a little intimidated by her stare and tone.
I give in and stay seated, agreeing to take a short 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, hopping around, shouting, “It’s just a flesh wound!”
We agree on a shorter half-hour rest, not knowing how much further we need to travel. After that, we’ll pick up our search for the others and hopefully find some more answers and eventually a way out.
Looks like Dad’s ‘Journey to the Center of the Earth’ comment might come true.
“Let’s just hope the morons didn’t blow up the stairs completely,” Kane says as he closes his eyes.
“God, I hope not,” Nicole says. “I’d really like to see the sun again. I’ve been meaning to travel to South Beach and take a much-needed vacation.”
Flashes of Nicole in a string bikini course their way through my mind. Then, I hand her one of my favorite fruity cocktails as she leans in for a—
Stop it! I tell myself. At least wait until you find out if you’re going to survive before falling head-over-heels for her.
They lay down, Kane facing up the incline towards the known threat and Nicole facing down the spiraling tunnel, towards the unfamiliar. I’m left in between two of the most badass people I’ve ever met, deciding to stay put, leaning up against the wall. I glance to both and smile as both Kane and Nicole lay on their backs, crossing dual pistols over their chests. A fitting pose considering where we are, looking like a pair of Egyptian pharaohs holding a crook in one hand and a flail in the other.
I close my eyes, slouch into my pack, and ask the Atlantean architects 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 Omar and Dad, and for us asking that we simply we see each other again.
Before I fall asleep, I feel a nudge against my foot and realize it's 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.
No flaming lamps are 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, causing a shockwave to pass through.
There’s a huge pillar to my left, the size of a redwood. It looks like a giant stalagmite and stalactite fused together after years and years of drippage.
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 vast 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.
I stop my exploration when I see something around the backside 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 pillar, seeing that the light source is neither a torch 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’re finishing up a conversation, but I must have just missed it since they aren’t speaking. Weird… They’re just sitting and staring at each other.
After watching them for what seems like a full minute and not seeing them speak a single word, one of the tall men stands, his back to me.
“Come… We must return to the surface and try to restrain the fallen one and forgive him for what he has done and for what he has yet to do.”
I hear him speak, but I can’t see his face from this angle.
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 wonder… But I decide not to test my theory 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 melt away, making way for the colors of the real world.
“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 tall, around eight feet in height. Their bodies are long and wiry, but powerfully built, reminding me of a muscular basketball.
I step closer, getting an even better look at them. They too have on Egyptian robes—like Thoth—though not as elaborate. They’re just soft and flowing, made of white silk-like material. Simple, yet beautiful in design—dignified, but practical. Under their robes, they have on what looks like medieval 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 the way we do… Your subconscious chose this voice, not us.
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 going to hear the end of it from Kane if he finds out that I have Indy’s dad in my head.
