A Hank Boyd Adventure: Blood and Sand Part 19

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.

"G.o.d, 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 bada.s.s 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 pa.s.sing through.

There's a colossal pillar to my left, the size of a redwood. It looks like a giant stalagmite and stalact.i.te 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 stalact.i.te 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 finis.h.i.+ng 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 orichalc.u.m, 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.

Once I'm done, they just simply nod their heads and continue, answering my previous question like nothing happened. But I can feel the tension in the air.

We deduced long ago that the human brain is at its least defendable state during sleep. We have an easier time breaking in while you are at rest than if you were awake. Also, we could potentially injure you if we tried.

Right...injured brain...not good.

That's probably why Rhonar was in so much pain, I deduce.

I get back on topic.

Then if you're not kings, who are you?

He gives me a slight turn of his head, c.o.c.king it to the side, as if contemplating an answer.

Let us show you, they all say in unison.

The three Atlanteans open their arms out wide and look straight up towards the cavern's high ceiling. I can hear them in my head, muttering some incoherent language, again all at once. It's like they are using the same mind-a hive mind. Every thought, every action, it's all processed as one.

The room starts to spin, but I feel no ill effect. It's not like the tugging sensation I had in my other dream. Nor is it like the mental and physical abuse I suffered in the last one either. No, this is like I'm experiencing the events through my own eyes, and not just through my mind. I can even smell the dankness of the cavern around me.

That is because you are coming along willingly, says the middle one again. Your body and mind does not fight us like you fought our brother.

Before I can ask him about his last comment, we are whisked away. We quickly arrive, and appear to be on a coastline somewhere. There is a torrential downpour and an insane amount of lightning, worse than any storm I've been through back home. And that's saying something considering Florida is known as the lightning capital of the WORLD.

The rain is slapping against my face, causing me to flinch and close my eyes. Ouch. I'm soaked and being pelted by what feels like miniature paintb.a.l.l.s being shot at me.

You mustn't do this brother. These are your people too.

I reopen my eyes, turning to see who is speaking.

"Holy c.r.a.p..."

37.

My mouth is agape, hanging open and flapping like a fish out of water. I just stare at the spectacle going on in front of me. It's incredible and intense and well...spectacular!

First, I notice my new friends. They face the water hands up in defense of an unseen force. It looks like three mimes pus.h.i.+ng against something that isn't actually there.

You are witnessing the end of our homeland, the night it was destroyed.

I spin and fall, startled. I look up from my seated position and do a double take, slightly confused. I see the three elders standing not ten feet from me, but it's not the same three I saw just moments ago. They are still in their defensive formation, desperately trying to hold back the wind.

We are here as onlookers, just like you.

I get myself together and stand, watching the battle unfold.

We, myself and the present world elders, are on a pier of some sort, about fifty yards from solid ground. It branches out in three direction, continuing fifty feet farther forward and another fifty feet to the left and right. From above it would look like a plus-sign.

The past elders, the ones trying in vain to protect their home, are standing out at the very end of the forward section of the pier. The rest of us are standing halfway down the right hand arm of the plus-sign.

The wind is unbelievably strong now, howling, swirling around us. It's gotta' be close to hurricane force strength now, maybe more, I think s.h.i.+elding my eyes from the sideways rain.

CRA-KOOM!.

A ma.s.sive blood-red lightning bolt strikes the end of the right hand arm of the pier, some twenty-five feet away. The wood structure violently explodes and splinters are sent flying. I instinctively dive to the ground, hoping to avoid the shrapnel that's produced. I mean it is a dream...dreams don't generally hurt, but then I remember my encounter with Nannot and the bruising I suffered.

It's then I feel something pinch my arm. I look down to see a pencil-sized shard of wood buried in my forearm. I clutch my arm in pain and yank it out, coming away with my other hand covered in blood.