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Visit wraithsandworlds.com © 2008 Darrin Wilson. All Rights Reserved. Episode Eight: Leviathan's Splinter"DO YOU STILL sense Duon?" Sand asked. "He is there," Abigail said. "You know where he is? Exactly?" "All I can sense is a vague impression of him. His power is much more prevalent. It circulates. But there is a lot of power in this place. It stretches out into the desert." "I don’t have to remind you that Penny’s well-being depends on us finding him." "Don’t worry. I said I’d take you to him and that’s what I’m doing." "Good. Just so we have an understanding." After the second hour of on-foot trekking across the dunes, the group crossed into the shadow of the mountains and breathed a sigh of relief from the heat. They had almost run out of water but Abigail’s confidence grew the further they travelled into the folds and crevices of the rocky expanse and that excited Sand. "There’s something over here," she said. She indicated for the group to step into the gloom through a craggy passage in a nearby rock wall. "Through there?" he confirmed. "Quickly," she replied. They stepped through cautiously; Abigail’s wheelchair clicking and crushing the pebbles on the uneven ground. Several minutes passed. All of them made their way through in silence. Then the rocky passageway gave way, bathing them in daylight revealing something none of them expected. A bright plateau nestled in the cradle of the mountains. Dozens of men with picks and axes labored on the rocks. Near the center of the bustle was an improvised tent, large and billowing. Bags and backpacks littered the ground. Makeshift wooden trestles and struts bridged freshly dug holes in the valley floor. Dust clouds swept over the site as workers disturbed sandy clefts. The heady scents of cooked meat and human sweat wafted through the air. Two jeeps and a water truck were parked behind the tent. The melodic chanting of Arabian workmen echoed throughout the valley. It was an archaeological dig. Sand, his henchman and Abigail just stared in awe. A man’s voice called in Arabic in the distance. More than few workers turned to look at the new arrivals. "Oh shit," Sand said. "You don’t know what you’re talking about, Maru!" Deacon said. "You’re confused! We’re about to unlock the mystery of this whole place and all you care about is your own deluded virtuousness." Maru ground his teeth, "Don’t patronize me. If it were up to you; Grace would be left behind and you would be heading straight for God, spear in hand." "You lie!" Deacon shouted. "Maru!" Grace cried. "Why do you think Deacon is trying to betray you?" Maru glared at her. "Because he knows where God is. And he knows why God is hiding." Grace’s jaw dropped. "What?" Maru said sarcastically, "Oh, didn’t he tell you? Your friend Deacon is a Seer." Grace frowned. "A what?" Deacon took on silence. Maru spoke up, "A Seer, Grace. One who can see. In this case... right into God’s backyard. Only he won’t tell us." Grace turned to Deacon, "Is that true?" Deacon exhaled in frustration. "Yes. I’m a Seer. But it doesn’t work quite the way Maru describes it." "Then how does it work?" Deacon paced back and forth. "In this place, everyone is a Seer. Everyone’s psychic. Everyone—" "No!" Maru shouted. "Yes!" Deacon cried back. "Everyone has the power! You’re just so obsessed with this quest you can’t feel it. You don’t need me or anyone else! And why you think I’m trying to kill God I have no idea! Just... relax, Maru... " One of Maru’s followers, Billy, stepped forward. "Everyone has the power?" he asked timidly. Deacon smiled. "Everyone." "You mean I could find my sister?" he replied softly. "She died you know... but I don’t know where she is." "If you just step back and calm down... all of you... you all could start to feel God." Maru raised his hand. "Don’t you listen to him! Don’t you understand? He can’t be trusted. Follow him and you’ll incite the Wrath of God." Billy backed down. Deacon shook his head. "You’re insane. You’re no longer rational." Maru charged up and clutched Deacon’s collar. Maru tensed his arms and drew Deacon close to his face. "I trusted you. We all trusted you to lead us to God. And what did you do? You abandoned us." Maru turned to his followers. "Don’t listen to him, none of you! He is God’s murderer!" "So that’s it," Deacon said. "You think I abandoned you. It wasn’t me, my friend. You abandoned yourself. As long as you keep up this charade of righteousness, you abandon everyone here. This isn’t what God wants." "What do you know of God?" "I know this isn’t what He wants. Try and reach out, Maru. Feel the vibration all around you. It’s Him. He’s guiding us. Let go of the anger. No one abandoned you." "I feel it," Billy said. "Shut up!" Maru cried. "Billy, do you trust me?" "I... I do." "I trust you as well. With my life. You’ve got to believe me that we have a threat here. And we can stop it." Billy nodded quickly. "Yes." Maru let go of Deacon and stepped back. "All of you," he said. "Restrain them. Quickly. The heretics as well!" Five men and women leapt forward and took Grace and Deacon by the arms. Four men took the three frail monks and brought them out from the protection of the shadows. "Don’t hurt them," Deacon said, calmly. "They’re innocent. Just let them go. Grace as well, just let her go. I’ll stay." "Afraid I can’t do that," Maru responded. "Just let the monks go," Grace said. "Do what you want with me and let them go. Please. They didn’t do anything to you." "But they did," Maru said. "The mere fact you want to protect them is proof enough. They’re heretics." Maru saw several tangles of thin vine and spindly wood branches hanging from the walls and ceiling. He bounded across to a large crush of vines and ripped them from the stone wall. "Use these," he said. "Bind them back to back. Make it tight." "Why are you doing this?" Deacon pleaded. "We’re all dead! What could this possibly accomplish?" "All we need to do is delay your search. That will give us enough time to find the Kingdom of Light. Then we’ll see God exact His sweet vengeance upon you. I’m so sorry, Grace. You chose to follow evil. But I warned you." "The only evil I see here is you," she said simply. She jerked as Maru’s followers wrenched the vine tight around her hands and feet. The woman who confronted Grace back in the shelter came forward. She spat at Grace. "Shut up," the woman said. Maru had them sitting on the floor in the middle of the chamber all bound back to back hands and feet. No one could move. Once finished, Maru was passed a flaming torch. "Don’t do it," Deacon said. "We’re not going anywhere. Go find God. Go on." "How simple would this be? Just one touch and you all go up like a bonfire." Deacon’s eyes never strayed from Maru’s. "Don’t do it. Please." For a brief moment, Deacon thought he saw a glimmer of mercy in Maru’s eyes. He would learn it wasn’t the case. He knew Maru well enough to know he could be as sadistic as a serial killer. Deacon witnessed the behaviour first hand when, not too long ago, the time came to slaughter some Baku for their skins. Maru was brutal. Like a predator. He hid with two others, including Deacon, behind an ice formation in the back of the cave. When no Baku came, Maru did the unthinkable. He explained away why he had to take Billy’s own hand as bait. When all of us objected, Maru took Billy by the arm and dragged to a remote crevasse back in the cave and did the deed himself with the same blade he plunged into Grace. After that, Maru took Billy under his wing but it didn’t erase the savagery we all witnessed that night. Maru was a bomb. All he needed was the right trigger to do the unimaginable. Maru huffed. "I think you’re right, old man." "About what?" Deacon said. "About all of us being psychic." Deacon just looked at him. Maru cracked an evil smile. "I remember that night as well." "What night?" "The night Billy showed his worth by sacrificing his own hand as bait for the Baku." "You were sensing my thoughts." "Damn good idea, Deacon." Maru passed over the torch and crouched down toward Deacon. "Hold out your arm." "No!" Grace screamed. Maru raised his hand and struck Grace across the face. "Shut up." "You bastard," she spat back. Maru grasped Deacon’s hand, wrestled it from the knotted vines and stretched it out. "The Baku only respond to the severed flesh of our bodies unburned. I suppose it gives off some kind of unusual chemical only they can sense. Burning flesh doesn’t seem to work. Overkill I suppose." "Maru," Grace said. "Please don’t do this. Please... " Maru extracted the thin wooden blade. "You remember Billy?" Deacon panted, sweat dripped off his brow. "These new bodies don’t have real bones I don’t think. Billy’s hand was so easy to cut. Almost like... all we have is cartilage. Deja vu, huh, Deacon?" With one swift stroke, Maru severed Deacon’s hand at the wrist. His cry echoed through the chamber, up the stone vents and across the ice. The Arab’s face was weathered and beaten by the elements. He came right up to Sand and scolded him in rapid-fire Arabic. "We’re not here to disturb you," Sand responded astutely in the native tongue. Several more Arabs approached quickly and relieved Sand’s henchmen of their weapons. Sand was calm, "Allow it," Sand said. "It’s all right. Give them your weapons." A tall blond white man dressed in a light polo shirt and cargo pants emerged from the tent and called out to the peak where Sand and the others stood. The man was clearly American. "Bring’em down here!" he called. Slowly, vigilantly, Sand, Abigail and the henchmen were escorted down to the main tent. Abigail sensed the activity around them and how they all were being carefully scrutinized. She imagined the sight of them being so unexpected here in the deep desert. Sand proceeded watchfully. He studied as many of the workers as he could trying to ascertain what exactly they were doing. Blowing sand particles caught Roger off guard and he squinted into the distance toward the tent. He was visibly relieved they had found another American. "Say nothing about what we’re doing here," Sand whispered to Abigail. "None of you say anything." "Don’t worry," she said. "I’m sure you’ll do all the talking." After the short walk, they arrived at the tent. The American, smiling, came up to them. To Sand, he appeared to be in his late thirties. Quite young and muscular. "Selam," he said extending his hand. "My name’s Don Kapen, University of Chicago." Sand returned the handshake. "My name’s Jonathan Sand. This is Abigail my assistant and my aides." "You speak English!" "Yes," Sand said, smiling back. "I’m glad," Kapen said. "I only know a little Arabic." He looked at Abigail. "I’m sorry you had to experience the desert in a wheelchair." "Not to worry, young man," Abigail said. "I’ve experienced worse." Sand wasted no time. "Is this your dig?" "I run it, yes. Where did you come from?" "We broke down about two hours west of here." Kapen indicated for two armed men, standing off to the side in the shadows, to step forward. "Search them," he said. "I hope you understand. We’ve had security breaches before." Sand was obliging and indicated for his men to allow the search. "Of course. I understand your caution." When their search came up clean, Kapen offered them all some bottled water, which everyone accepted gratefully. Sand continued the conversation. "We’re trying to find a village near here. Close to the mountains. It’s not on any map, it’s too small. You wouldn’t happen to know where it is?" "A village?" Kapen thought for a moment. He called to one of his assistants; a shorter man, white, a little fatter and much younger with round glasses and a lab coat. His unkept hair and angular features matched well with his borderline nasally voice. Clearly he was a scientist. "This is Reggie Anderson," Kapen said. "My right hand man. Reg, do you know of any village around here? Up in the mountains maybe?" Reggie shook his head. "Not for at least fifty miles. This is a pretty barren stretch. You know the name of the village? I could check the database." "Unfortunately no," Sand said. "We’re looking for a resident of the village. Perhaps he’s here. His name is Duon Rodriguez." "I don’t think so," Reg said. "The name isn’t Arabic. Maybe Spanish. I know every worker here. I’m sorry." Sand looked at Abigail. "Well, we can worry about that later," he said. "Can you tell me what kind of dig this is? What are you looking for?" Reggie eyes lit up. "Well, it isn’t what we’re looking for. It’s what we’ve found. We—" "Reggie," Kapen interrupted. There clearly was something of interest here. Sand scanned the tables around him. Several laptops were wired up along with various recording devices. The cables snaked all over the place hooked up to portable generators around the tent’s perimeter. Sharing the tables were dozens of carved idols and pottery scattered among packs of water bottles. Then Sand spied something that made him smile. He walked over to an idol an older worker was cleaning on a nearby table. "That’s Pellemn is it not?" The word instantly captured Kapen’s attention and he walked toward Sand. "That’s right. Pellemn. You are versed in Christian-Judeo demonology?" "You could say that. Moniades. He must be here as well." Kapen laughed. "He is. We’ve found hundreds of statues like this. We think this valley was some kind of Place of Pilgrimage. Where peasants deposited all representations of evil to cleanse their villages." Sand noticed something else. "Over there, that’s a D’Jinn?" "Correct. That’s part of the mystery. There seems to be a combination of Christian and Islamic symbols here. Which makes no sense. The two belief systems normally wouldn’t share a common place. It’s highly unusual." "Interesting. What kind of dig is this?" Sand asked. "What did you find?" Kapen regarded Sand for a moment. He weighed the odds of meeting a man out here in the Syrian Desert with the same knowledge of demons as he. "Alright," Kapen said. "Seeing as we’re about to be break out the Champagne anyway. C’mon. I’ll show all of you." Grace silently and as subtly as she could, tried to loosen the binds around her wrists. Deacon slumped over, holding a stump where his right hand used to be. No blood gushed from the wound but the pain let him know it was real. Maru jumped up, outstretched the severed hand and waved it about. "Here we are! C’mon you big furry balls of teeth! I have a treat for you!" Maru threw the hand up onto the rocky incline that led up to the ice cap. "This was a much better idea, Deacon. I have to hand it to you... " He laughed at his own twisted joke. "Instead of burning you all up, I could just let the Baku rip you into tiny pieces and you can live inside their bellies for all eternity—staring at rancid insides from here into forever." Deacon was able to raise his head but no words came out. Grace had made some progress with her restraints but still had a long way to go before freedom knocked. From far above, a throaty, inhuman growl pierced the air. "We have to go now," Maru said. "May God have mercy on all of your souls." Another growl reverberated along the rocks. "Let’s go!" Maru barked. "Everyone into the tunnel. Let’s go! Now!" One by one, Maru’s followers passed the group but didn’t cast a glance at them. Only Billy stole a glance at the group. When Grace tried to maintain eye contact, Billy turned his head and continued out toward the tunnel. "Let’s go! C’mon!" Billy was the last one. He was taken by the arm by Maru and led into the tunnel on the far side of the chamber. Maru turned one last time, "Farewell my friends." And they disappeared into the oily darkness. Out to the rear of the dig, around jagged rocks and sandy drifts, the group, led by Kapen, made their way to the floor of a massive crevasse. For about five long minutes the group, including Abigail, stumbled around rocks until they found themselves flanked by two cliff faces that went up at least a hundred feet. As they craned their necks skyward, absolute fear filled their veins when they saw what was situated on the west cliff. Half way up was a cave that receded back into the rock. Around the lip of the cave were layers of ice. Enormous icicles hugged the rocky cliff below the cave. And blowing like a jet stream out of the cave mouth was snow. Tons of snow, as if a gigantic ice storm churned inside the cave itself. Mounds of hardened frost piled at the bottom of the crevasse. Repelling ropes hung from the lip of the cave. They swayed in the torrent. Below, workers were preparing for the ascent into the icy maw. "My God," Sand said. "What is this?" Roger was dumbfounded. "Sweet Jesus." "Jesus has nothing to do with this," Kapen said. "Let’s get back. I’ll show you what it means." Another barking growl resonated throughout the chamber. This time much closer. Something was making its way down the rocky incline. Rocks and ice rolled down the cliff to the temple floor. "Deacon," Grace breathed. "Deacon. Are you conscious?" He groaned. "Yeah. Grace, try and get your hands free." "I’m trying. What about our friends here?" "I haven’t heard anything. Not a peep. They seem to be sleeping. Like they were inside the walls again." "Great," she said. "I’ve almost got my hands free. I just need to—" A loud howl. The creature was almost in visual range. "Deacon!" "I know! Just concentrate on getting your hands free. If we’re sitting on this floor by the time that Baku reaches bottom, it will charge and we’ll be ripped to pieces. We won’t stand a chance and it’ll be all over." A shadow loomed over Deacon’s severed hand up on the rocks. Then as fast as lightning, the appendage was consumed. The beast was massive, as big as a school bus. Shaggy and matted blue-tinted hair covered its great bulk. Marble-like eyes recessed inside a massive head, reminiscent of a both a bear and a bird. It shook as it craned its mouth open in a whining scream. Rows upon rows of spiny teeth angled forward as if they were on hinged gums. A long, mottled tongue curled as its mouth closed. Two leathery ears pricked upward from the lower part of the head. Then it began its approach to the group in the middle of the chamber. Kapen led the group around the tables under the tent to a laptop Reggie Anderson was working on. Abigail, wheeled around by Roger, just kept silent, taking in the information exchange. Sand leaned over the table beside Kapen and peered at the screen with Reggie Anderson. "What are we looking at here?" Sand asked. "This is a thermographic view of the cave entrance," Reggie said. "See around the cave’s perimeter? That’s heat. Approximately 101 degrees—consistent with the surrounding rock at today’s temperature." "But your cave is bright blue," Sand said. "That’s right," Reggie replied. "Absolute cold. Fluctuating between zero and minus seven degrees." "That’s impossible," Sand said. Kapen leaned in. "Yes it is," he said. "Now, look at this. Show’em." Reggie flicked the keyboard. The cave transformed into a myriad of different colors. "Now what does all this mean?" Sand asked. "Different elements and minerals," Kapen said. "You see there’s limestone, granite. There’s clay and—" "Now what’s that there? It keeps changing colors," sand said pointing to the middle of the cave’s opening. Kapen straightened up. "We don’t know." "The best we can ascertain, based on our current file catalogue and the algorithms of the software," Reggie said, "it would appear to be dark matter." " What? Dark matter?" Reggie explained, "Cosmic theory. We know just a fraction of the composition of the known universe. Hydrogen, Helium, Argon, Iron, ice, all that stuff. But it’s widely believed the majority of the universe is made up of matter that doesn’t reflect light. Dark matter. None of it exists on earth. We think it’s dark matter or... possibly anti-matter or some other exotic particle that can’t naturally exist on earth." Sand backed away from the table in thought. He wiped the sweat from his brow. Kapen continued to examine the screen with Reggie. "Anti-matter," Sand repeated. "Anti-matter. My God." Kapen caught part of what Sand said. "I’m sorry?" Sand turned to Kapen. "If I didn’t know better, and if I were, say, highly religious and reverent of two thousand year-old religious doctrines, I’d say it was Leviathan’s Splinter." "I’m sorry," Kapen said. "I’m not familiar with that term." Sand struggled to find the right words. "Leviathan’s Splinter. Um, are you familiar with the Alyntraphia? The book of the Afterlife?" "I’ve heard of it." "I have it." Kapen shook his head. "What? What do you mean you have it? You have the book?" "Yes." "That’s impossible," Kapen assured. "It doesn’t exist. It’s just one of a thousand stories about prophetic rabbinic texts outside of the Bible. That book can’t be verified." "It exists. It’s verified by scientific means and I have it." "I would like to see this book, please." "You may, in good time. But first things first. Leviathan’s Splinter is a passage detailed in the Alyntraphia about one of two Tools of God." "I’m listening," Kapen said. Sand inhaled deeply and extended his hands in gesture. "God created the universe. In doing so He had to make use of the things He created such as anti-matter. As God deals with the living and the dead, He had to find a way to regulate both plains of existence. One tool was the Eye of God: a sort of conduit or bridge that he used to take souls across to the Kingdom of Heaven. The other was Leviathan’s Splinter: a stabilizer of the bridge. Said to be hidden by God on corporeal earth. Somewhere. A machine... or a focusing device made completely of ‘black stars’ or, as I believe, anti-matter. In the book, the location was said to be in a cold place. I thought it was, of course, in the arctic or some remote region covered in snow but what if God kept the device in the most unlikely of places? A winter landscape... in the middle of the desert? To make absolute sure it was not only hidden, but any record of the location was so misleading no one could even comprehend its location? The cave speaks for itself. Completely defiant of our laws of physics." "But not God’s laws of physics," Abigail said. "What you found should be left alone and forgotten about." "Not possible," Kapen said. "Not possible at all," Sand confirmed. Kapen was mesmerized. "All right. Considering what we found, let’s say I believe you. What would you do next?" "Well, we have to go in." "Not so fast," Kapen said. "Let’s not forget whose dig this is." "Perhaps we can work together?" Sand said. Kapen nodded shallowly. "Perhaps. And we’re already way ahead of you. We’re preparing for the first excursion. We will be ready shortly. But if you go, it will be under my discretion. Understand?" "Of course. But I would very much like to be on that excursion. I would be most valuable." "I’m sure you would," Kapen said. "But we just met and you understand my caution. Not to mention the danger." "I’m fully prepared." "We’ll see." Sand backed away and left well enough alone. He didn’t want to push this man Kapen. At least not yet. He approached Abigail who had been listening intently. "Abigail, you may be off the hook." "Explain," she said. "We may not need Duon Rodriguez. If this is Leviathan’s Splinter, I could cross over right here. Now. And with all of this recording equipment... it’s perfect." "Does this mean you’ll release Penny?" "Not yet. I still need you. You’re not going anywhere." EPISODE NINE: THE HUMAN KEY |