"My story began deep in the wild
jungles of Brazil. I had followed a trail of clues for two years to find the
glistening golden pyramid in front of me. No, it wasn’t El Dorado, but it was
almost. Alone, I walked closer to the clearing. The trees of unimaginable
height towered above me and ferns the size of buses formed a tunnel winding
closer to the monument. The leaves over my head criss-crossed, making shafts of
light pierce the grayness pressing against me. The air, permeated with a rich,
earthly smell, was smothering me in its heaviness. I started sweating freely,
soaking my soiled tank top and tattered bandanna. My boots made little noise on
the moist soil, but instead left deep prints. Closer I walked to the mouth of
the tunnel. I was getting closer to my goal. But then I stopped, realization
striking me. It was much too quiet
for this part of the jungle.
At first
the silence startled me and I dropped down and flattened myself to the ground.
I strained my ears searching for any source of noise. My hand went to my waist
where I kept my large Bowie knife. I heard no noise, which made me unsure
whether this potential threat had left or was hunkered down waiting for my
appearance. I weighed my options carefully. I could wait quietly, slip away, or
continue into the pyramid. My brain shrieked for me to get away – danger was
too big a possibility. But for Pete’s sake, didn’t almost everyone believe that
my granddad was the great Indiana Jones? I couldn’t back out when I was this
close to the biggest discovery since he found out aliens existed in the last
adventure fifty years ago!
So against
my better judgment, I silently crawled the last twenty feet to the tunnel
opening. Birds of Paradise flew up into the cobalt blue sky, crying out in
beautiful eerie voices, and landed high in the trees. Bugs buzzed and a snake
the color of emeralds slithered into some brush a few feet away. I shivered,
although it was at least 98 degrees out with 85 percent humidity. Why does it always have to be snakes?
I tore my
eyes from where the snake disappeared to the pyramid. It shimmered in the
sunlight. Great steps led up to the very top of the pyramid. I made up my mind.
Taking a deep breath, I tore out of the bushes and sprinted to the gigantic
base. Up, up I looked, searching for the peak of this man-made mountain. I saw
it, one hundred feet above me. Glancing behind me and seeing nothing, I started
to climb. The higher I climbed, the heavier my backpack weighed on my
shoulders. I persevered, however, and soon reached the top.
I was
greeted at the top with one of the biggest surprises of that adventure. It was
him. By “him”, I mean the trickiest, slyest, most despicable, cheating man I
had ever met. Even though he was facing away from me I knew who he was. His
name was Jason Curry. We had been competing for years in finding some of the
world’s most precious artifacts, and he’d ran me over with a camel the last
time we were hunting in the same territory. He was bent over, breathing
heavily.
Inside, I
was seething. How dare he follow me?
He broke the basic rule of treasure hunting: Don’t follow the other seekers to
take what they earned! I had earned this pyramid and what’s inside. He was
going to take it. But I wasn’t going to let him have it.
“You dirty
dog,” I spat at him. I marched straight towards him, hands clenched, to give
him the what for.
He spun
around quickly and a strange look crossed his face. It was a mixture of
unbelief and, if I was correct, fear. The sun glinted off the surface of the
pyramid and reflected off his golden hair, which was dripping with
perspiration. One of his ice blues eyes was nearly swollen shut with a bleeding
cut above it, and he had a large cut on his upper lip.
“Run.” The
command was issued hoarsely. I stared on in unbelief, so he said in a louder
voice, “RUN!” He raised his arm weakly in a shooing motion.
Confused
and numb, I turned to run back down the steps. I can’t believe that I did what
he said, but it’s a good thing that I did. I began my descent; I tripped on a
step. I crashed down several steps, banging my face and shoulder on the way
down. After several moments in freefall, I landed face-up with my feet pointing
towards the top of the pyramid. Slowly I felt for broken bones, and was
thankful nothing was horribly hurt. My face was a little scraped, my shoulder
was throbbing and I had twisted my ankle, but I was grateful to still be alive.
I carefully stood up and favored my ankle while waiting for my head to stop
spinning.
I was about
to continue my descent when I heard a “whump!” and a loud shout. I turned
sharply around and craned my neck to see who had made the noise. My shoulder
screamed at me from the movement and I clutched at it. Without thinking, I
started back up the steps, following the yell I had just heard. My ankle
hindered my speed, but I heard another sound and shout, which put more urgency
into my step. My heavy boots pounded on the golden steps and I shot to the top.
The scene
that greeted me was one of the scariest I had ever come upon. Jason was sagging
between two goons dressed in camouflage with a third gorilla-like man beating
his face to a bloody pulp and punching him in the stomach. With each punch,
Jason shot backwards. The two men were the only things that kept him upright
and in line of the barrage. A tall skinny man was looking on with a sneer on
his face. I couldn’t tell how old he was, his hair was white and his skin was
dry and scaly, but he had a youthful build and the way he carried himself spoke
of agility. He turned and looked at me, just as I reached the top, as if he
were expecting my arrival. When our eyes met I swear he could see my soul. His
irises were the palest I have ever seen. One word came to my mind: Snake.
“Hello,”
said the man, smiling snakishly. Fear struck my heart like lightning and I
froze. What had I gotten into?
The man
raised a hand into the air and the three others stopped the torture and stood
at attention, letting Jason slip to his hands and knees. Blood dripped steadily
from several cuts on his face and from his mouth. Terrified and confused as I
was, I could only stare. The snake-man walked around me slowly. The sounds of
the jungle diminished, leaving silence. It was as if he and I were the only
people in the whole universe as he came closer and closer. I grasped my knife,
determined to defend myself. Was that ever the wrong move…
I woke up
in the wee morning hours. My head pounded and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying
to block out the blinding pain bouncing behind my retinas. Lying my head back
onto the ground, I waited for the pain to subside before opening my eyes again.
When my brain felt better, I hesitantly opened one eye and then the other. I
was still on top of the pyramid, but I had company. One of the goons was still
awake, peering silently at me. Everyone else was still asleep.
To my
dismay, my hands and feet were tightly bound with rope. I worked at the knots
for a few seconds, but the sound the guard made changed my mind. I looked
behind me and involuntarily made a small gasping sound. It was dumb and
probably not the smartest mode of operation, but Jason was beside me, also
bound, but in much worse shape. I couldn’t help it. It was too dark to see
much, but I knew he was in intense pain. His knees were drawn up to his chest
and his breathing was labored. My heart went out to him, and I pitied him.
Something deep inside stirred as I blew away a clump of matted hair from his
bloodied forehead. He looked like a child, curled up and hurting in a little
ball.
“That sly
dog,” I thought. Unknowingly and unwittingly, the man, by far my greatest
rival, had squirmed his way into my heart. I hastily rebuilt the sagging walls
that guarded that part of me. Frowning, I turned away from him and closed my
eyes.
At the
crack of dawn I was rudely awakened by a man who closely resembled a bull. He
set two bowls of mush in front of me. I leaned over to wake Joseph up. He
stoically used an elbow to prop himself up and began to eat his food as I sat
back to eat mine. Something told me we were going to need all the strength we
could get from the clumpy and tasteless stuff in our bowls.
“Finally, I
have met the famous Diana Jones,”
said the snake-man in a sarcastic tone. He had a very heavy accent, probably
German. I was sitting next to Jason, who had fallen back asleep after breakfast
into an agitated rest. “Too bad it was under these circumstances.” The
snake-man crouched down in front of me eye-to-eye. Even his breath was cold and
dry like a snake. It took every bit of my willpower to not turn my face away.
“It turns
out that I need some help, Miss Jones. You see, I am like you and your friend
there. I look for treasures just like you. This particular pyramid’s treasure
has been of great interest to me for some time now. I just needed a little help
in finding it. I knew you were – how do you Americans say? - my best bet. But
it seems I wasn’t the only one following you.” He gestured to Jason, I glanced
over to him. He must have woken up when Herr Viper started talking, and was now
trying to sit up. Our eyes met briefly
before the golden floor caught his attention. My anger flared; how dare he?
“We found
him close by, and asked him a few questions, but he refused absolutely to
answer them. He is a tough nut to crack, but let me assure you; he will break.”
Jason glared
at him and my respect level went up a notch, even though I was still furious.
Snake-man continued. “My name is Jaeger von Schlange. I need to get into this
pyramid and find my treasure. Will you help me? If you do, I just might spare
you your life.” He smiled, as if he knew already what my answer would be. The
typical “I’ll-do-whatever-you-want, just-please-don’t-kill-me” bit. But I
wasn’t about to hang up my hat just yet.
I startled
to tremble with the built-up rage at this man and could only manage a slow
shake of my head. I hate snakes. I
was about to tell him so, but he raised a white eyebrow in surprise and then
ones of those nasty crooks grabbed me by the shoulders and thrust me into a
standing position. I tried to squirm out of his grip, but he held on even
tighter, squeezing all the air out of my lungs. My shoulder begged for mercy,
but I hardly made a sound, even as I fought for air.
Von
Schlange slithered closer to me, but I didn’t move an inch. I couldn’t. He was
several inches taller than me; so shorter than most men, and I stared right at
his collarbone. He reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. I
suppressed the urge to shiver. He trailed an icy finger down my cheek and
traced my chin. I looked up, raised my own eyebrow in contempt and ignored the
goosebumps.
“Don’t.
Touch. Her.” yelled Jason. Startled, I looked over at him. A short skirmish
ensued and another goon shoved him over and kicked him. Hard. Air whooshed out
of his lungs and he hugged his side, panting.
“That poor
man,” I thought.
Unfazed,
Von Schlange continued. “You have such a pretty face; ‘twould be a shame to
mess it up.” Von Schlange shook his head again with what looked like remorse
and, faster than the blink of an eye, raised a hand and slapped me. My head
jerked back so hard my neck popped.
Stars did juggling acts in front of my eyelids and my ears buzzed. My
cheek was on fire and I could feel blood dripping down my face. My upper lip
was split and started to bleed as well.
“Do we need
to go another round, or are you going to change your mind?”
I shook the
fog from my brain. I had to come up with a plan, and fast.
“Well?
What’s it going to be?” Von Schlange was massaging his hand and glaring at me.
I said
nothing, only glared right back. I was going to make him pay for that. We
stared at each other for what seemed like eternity. After some time, he snapped
his head up and clapped his hands. The gorilla-like thug walked over to stand
next to his master, his faced looked completely devoid of emotion. Von Schlange
waved a hand in my direction and the muscular man walked towards me.
The last
thing I remember was a raised palm.
For the
second time in twenty-four hours I had been knocked unconscious and it was
seriously starting to tick me off. My face felt like it had been hit several
times by a Greyhound bus and my shoulder and ankle were both about to fall off.
The sun burned hotly high in the sky, so I shut my eyes against the glare. My
wrists and ankles were tied again; the ropes dug deeply into my skin. I scooted
around, trying to find a more comfortable position.
Footsteps
approached and I peeked out from underneath my eyelids. Von Schlange was
kneeling next to me, blocking the sun and shading my face. I opened my eyes all
the way and tried to find something sarcastic to say. Before anything could
come out, he asked, “Are you done fighting yet?”
I tried to
look undecided, like I was fighting between emotions and common sense. That’s
when I had an Indiana moment.
I nodded
and slumped by shoulders. “It looks like I don’t have much choice,” quietly.
Von
Schlange grinned.
“I’m glad
that you have finally decided this. Well, no time to waste; up you go!” He
pulled me up and released me from my ties.
He turned
around, and while I was massaging my chapped wrists, I peeked over at Jason. He
stared at me with wide-eyed disbelief. I sent him a small smile and even
managed a discreet wink, and then saw the change in his face once he realized
what I was doing. He smiled back and we slung our bags over our shoulders and
went about finding a way into the golden monument.
The
darkness was so thick, you could almost breathe it in. Inside the belly of the
pyramid was like being in a cave. Finding the hidden door was a piece of cake
compared to navigating the rough path we had to then walk on. Our flashlights
cut into the dark, but they only revealed more darkness. We trailed on with
Snake-man and one of his men leading the small train of people. Jason and I
were made to walk in the middle, and the last two followed behind us. We never
spoke to each other, and the silence was making my ears ring. I didn’t like it.
I was still angry, too. I was angry at him, at Von Schlange, and at myself. How
could Jason follow me? Who was Von Schlange to threaten my life? Why didn’t I
run away from that first snake and never entered the clearing in the first
place?
I asked
myself these questions and plenty of others as we began the first of many
flights of steep stairs. Poor Jason was limping heavily and I had to support
most of his weight. He had his arm around my shoulders and I had to wrap my
arms around his waist to support him. Though the air was cool, Jason was
sweating heavily and his breathing was still troubled. My own hurt would have
to wait. We descended for at least three hours before finally taking a
break.
“AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!”
I swung my
flashlight frantically. Time seemed to stand still. The scream had come from in
front of me and now echoed all around. I swept the area in front of me and soon
found the cause: A huge gaping hole that yawned in our faces. The man that
looked like a gorilla had fallen into the seemingly endless blackness of the
maw. I took a step backwards – the depth of that cavern frightened me. Being
the ninny that I was, my hands started shaking and the beam of my flashlight
flitted around the tip of the hole. Jason came up beside me.
“Are you
okay?” he asked quietly, resting a hand on my shoulder. I jumped a little. I’m
not a person who is used to being touched.
“I…I….I’m
fine,” I stammered. He tugged me away from the hole, and I pulled myself
together and took a deep breath. I brushed his hand off my shoulder and even
turned my back to the crevasse as we walked back to our spot in line.
“Don’t take
one more step, or you are history!” Von Schlange shouted. My heart dropped into
my gut. Blood pounded in my ears. But when I located Von Schlange, he had a
pistol pointed at the two guards on the other side of the tunnel with Von
Schlange in the middle. He had his back to us. I sagged with relief against
Jason. I thought that Snake-man had been talking to us.
“If you try
to leave, I guarantee that you never will.” The snake-man took a step closer to
the guards.
The guards
held their hands up in a pose of surrender, but they still looked extremely
rebellious. “See,” said Bull-Face, “other things – unknown things – they bad!
We go back, now.” He took a step back, urging his buddy to come with him.
“No!”
shouted the gunman. “We shall continue on. The treasure can’t be very far from
this spot. I want it, and you are going to help me retrieve it!”
The two men
looked at each other and I knew what they were thinking. Wild looks were in
their eyes as Bull-Face and his friend let out savage yells simultaneously and
charged at
von Schlange with extended hands. Von Schlange calmly raised
his pistol.
The double
explosion was loud and rang over and over inside the cave. I could feel the
reverberations in my very bones. Jason and I covered our ears tightly. I saw
sparks fly and I shut my eyes from the terror, hiding my face in Jason’s chest.
Gunpowder smoke burned my nostrils. I could feel his heart pounding under my
cheek; mine was beating just as fast. As the echoes became softer, I felt his
arms wrap around me. I leaned closer to him. He smelled like blood and sweat. I
probably did, too. It didn’t really matter.
To cover up
my moments of weakness, and to survey the damage, I drew a shaky breath and
looked out of the safety of Jason’s hug. Immediately, I regretted that
decision. Any hopes of survival had evaporated with what I saw, and a strangled
gasp escaped my throat.
Von
Schlange was pointing his gun in our direction.
I stared
straight down the barrel of the pistol into those pale eyes. Against my will,
my knees started to shake. Jason tightened his grip around my waist. I clutched
at him with my eyes clamped shut, waiting for the shot that would end my life.
That shot
never came. I peeked over my shoulder. Von Schlange had lowered his gun and was
looking steadily at me, which completely unnerved me.
“Do you
wish to continue? Or shall I give you two a few moments?” He smiled smugly and
raised his eyebrow again. Catching his meaning, I shoved Jason away and crossed
my arms.
He looked
at me strangely before he answered for us. “I think we should go on.”
“Good. Very
good,” said Von Schlange. He waved his gun at us again, motioning us to move
forward.
“Wait,” I said. I went to the two
dead men and collected their food and water rations and flashlights. They had a
couple extra shirts in their bags and I brought those along too. I split the
piles in half and gave a part to Jason. We loaded up the gear and began to
travel.
I don’t know how far we had to walk around the pit, but we
made it around and continued on our journey. Jason grabbed my hand and refused
to let go. At first I was quite opposed to the idea and protested constantly,
but when I nearly tripped and fell on my face and he stopped my fall, I agreed
that hand-holding was actually in my best interest. I was sure that I was
falling into another pit and that I was going to die.
After
another break and two more hours, we stopped for the night. I took this
opportunity to work on Jason’s face and bandage his cuts. The swelling had gone
down a bit around his eye, but it was still discolored. I soaked my bandanna in
water from a canteen to wash the grime away from the scrapes. Some of the cuts
were deep, and at least two would leave scars. Once I scrubbed too hard and he
drew in a deep breath.
“Sorry,” I
apologized.
“’S’okay,”
he whispered. I nodded and continued my administrations. His ribs were what was
worrying me the most. His left side was extremely sensitive to touch and rather
swollen. He looked to have at least two cracked ribs. I tore one of the extra
shirts into strips. Taking the cloths, I tied his wounds up as best I
could.
“I’ll be
fine, all right? You should worry about cleaning yourself up.” Jason protested
after a time.
I gave him
a look. He ignored its meaning, and merely kept that questioning gaze fixed on
me. I sighed. “….fine. I’ll patch myself up.”
He watched
for a bit, then, very gently, laid a hand on my bad shoulder. I wanted to yelp;
that hurt. But not wanting any more trouble from Van Schlange, I contented my
sense of injury with a flinch.
“I know, it stings. Just try to
stay still, okay? Can’t let the muscles get all stiff.”
He began to rub the afflicted area,
his fingers making little circles from along the rounded part of my arm to just
inside my shoulder blade. And it did help, even though the whole thing was
rather mortifying. Exhausted from the events of the past several days, I dozed
off at some point.
I’m interrupting here, because A:
It’s a good stopping point, and B: Diana isn’t the world’s best narrator or
anything. And there’s no way she’s going to make herself the heroine. Here’s
what really happened that day, she kind of mixes up details if they aren’t
relevant.
She came into the clearing in that Brazilian jungle and
spotted the pyramid she’d been hunting for the last couple years, which she
proceeded to climb. The steps were about five feet high, so it wasn’t exactly
easy to reach the summit.
Once Diana reached the top, her
face, when she saw I was there….it was priceless. Now, I know what she wrote
about us being mortal enemies and arch-rivals and all, but that’s not all that
it seems. She might have thought that was true, or thought that she believed
it; but in reality we often worked together on research, sometimes also on
digs. Not that there weren’t the typical disagreements and jealousies that come
with that type of thing; but it was more like the friendlyish rivalry where
each of us pushed the other harder than otherwise would have been possible. And
she knew that, even if she preferred not to admit it.
It was a really bad time for her to show up.
There was this serpent-obsessed
overlord of a heroin operation in Mexico, known as Jaeger Von Schlange, who
apparently was also seeking to get his hands on the Indian tribal mask that
could have potentially been the inspiration for Medusa which was most likely
somewhere nearby. And being the criminal that he is, Von Shanks had brought
along some muscles to ensure that he got his prize.
“You dirty dog,” Diana spat,
marching determinedly in my direction.
I spun around. These guys had been
beating me up pretty badly for at least twenty minutes, and there needed to be
one of us, at least, healthy enough to recover the mask.
“Run.” I pointed with my eyebrows
at the goons, who had hidden themselves when they heard Diana approaching. She
didn’t get it. She can be really oblivious about things sometimes.
“RUN!” I yelled, or tried to.
Warning someone in a loud tone requires a lot of effort, and I didn’t have much
energy to accomplish the task at the moment. Making a shooing motion with an
arm was something I was up to, however. Finally – she got it. She began to fly
down the mountain at a rather reckless pace. Then again, this was an emergency.
And as both of us had proven many, many times, danger gives you a temporary
form which is the offspring of Mercury and a cheetah.
Annnd so the baboon and buffalo
began their pummeling anew.
Di scrambled back up the path she’d
just burned, hobbling on her right ankle and with her left shoulder not looking
too pretty. Von Schlange approached her.
“Helllo,” the drug lord greeted
unpleasantly. I wanted to throw up. All I did was pass out instead.
The night was miserable. One of Von
Schlange’s guards had tied both me and Diana up in ropes, and there was no way
I was going to try to escape, at least not physically. Mentally, I was gone. I
wished….well, I didn’t know what. Something like I wanted to get the job done,
get Von Schlange to justice, maybe have a family and take care of them….it was
a mess. For all I know, the spider-web of unformed half-dreams walked out my
mouth, too. At some point I was sort of aware of a tiny breeze of warm breath
and some of the matted hair on my forehead was moved away. It wasn’t a pleasant
sensation, but the small gesture of sympathy meant a lot.
The oatmealish mush we were served
in the morning wasn’t anything to write home about, but it was food, and every
little bit of nourishment you can tolerate and stomach is essential in these
types of situations.
“Finally, I have met the famous Diana Jones,” Von Schlange sneered in a
sarcastic tone. And not the friendly teasing kind, either. “Too bad it was
under these circumstances.”
Neither of us were tied up anymore,
having to eat the mush, and too weak to do much in the way of conspirating.
Besides, the guards were watching silently everything we did.
“It turns out that I need some help,
Miss Jones,” By now Von Schlange was crouched in front of Diana’s face, his
nose four inches from those vibrant eyes, impossible to say for sure what the
colors were. Anyway, he was too close for my liking, and for sure hers.
“You see, I am like you and your
friend there. I look for treasures just like you. This particular pyramid’s
treasure has been of great interest to me for some time now. I just needed a
little help in finding it. I knew you would be – how do you Americans say it? –
my best bet. But it seems that I wasn’t the only one following you.” Here he
gazed pointedly in my direction. She frowned at me, too. Our eyes met and
locked for a minute, until I quickly pretended to study the Latin inscription
on the near-blinding tiles. Von Schlange kept droning on.
“We found him close by, and asked
him a few questions, but he refused absolutely to answer them. He is a tough
nut to crack, but let me assure you; he will break.”
“Nemo malus felix.” I muttered. Why the words of Juvenal sprang to
mind, I have no idea, but the quote from the first-century Roman satirist
seemed to be somewhat appropriate, if not perfectly so. The translation would
be “No one who is evil is happy”, which didn’t quite work as a snarky comeback.
But, you know, I had to say something. And besides, Diana appeared to pick up
my intent.
Von Schlange looked again at me, puzzled,
before picking up yet again on his endless monologue. “My name is Jaeger Von
Schlange. I need to get into this pyramid and find my treasure. Will you help
me? If you do, I might just spare your life.”
She was shaking with indignation,
fear and anger. Words failing her, she merely slowly – and decisively – shook
her head in disapproval. Von Schlange took it well, summoning a guard to subdue
her potential efforts at revolt by dragging her onto her feet. Her shoulder was
killing her, I could tell by the anguish in her face, well-hidden as it was.
Von Schlange slid closer, but she held her ground. His hand, pale with veins
clearly visible, yet clearly strong – his rather long, almost elegant fingers
reminded me of fangs – reached up and tucked a piece of dirty, windswept hair
behind her ear. It was a revolting sight, and one charged with….well, something
flammable. Even worse, his odious index finger traced the outline of her jaw
and nuzzled her chin. It was sickening.
“Don’t. Touch. Her.” I barked.
A dog-on-cat fight erupted, and a
rib or two definitely were the worse for wear. Pain blinded my sight for a
while – which seemed to be happening with distressing regularity – and what
happened next is based on sounds. The kick didn’t do anything to my ears, at
least, not the auditory portion.
“You have such a pretty face,
‘twould be a shame to mess it up.” There was a well-aimed slap against bone,
most likely his fangs slicing across her face.
“Do we need to go another round, or
are you going to change your mind?” Yup, my suspicions were right. More
silence.
“Well? What’s it going to be?” His
tone was impatient and unsettled by now. Still silence, then kind of a moaning
sound. Some time afterward, I wearily dropped out of consciousness again in an
unrestful sleep.
I was watching her sleep, someone
needed to keep an eye on her. And besides, there wasn’t much else to look at in
the way of enlightening scenery. She woke up and began squirming around. Von
Schlange came near, shielding her now sunglasses-less eyes from the sun’s glare
for a bit. She was trying desperately to come up with something Princess
Leia-like to snap.
“Are you done fighting yet?”
She frowned. After thinking a bit,
she nodded and slumped her shoulders in a posture of servitude. “Looks like I
don’t have much choice.”
Von Schlange looked almost gleeful.
“I’m glad that you have finally decided this. Well, no time to waste; up you
go!” He released her from her bonds and she began to massage her chapped
wrists. She caught my eye and grinned slyly, along with a small wink. “Trust
me, it’ll work out, and we’ll survive this”, it seemed to say. I grinned back,
acknowledging that the message was received. We slung our packs over our
shoulders and began hunting for a passage inside the monument.
It was dark in there. That’s kind
of stating the obvious, perhaps, but it was nearly impossible to see.
Flashlights helped some, but how long until the batteries wore out; did the
crank-operated backups still work? We were walking side-by-side, but not
speaking. Too busy lost in our thoughts, I suppose. And besides, she radiated a
toxic “Leave me alone” attitude. It wasn’t conducive to conversation. And
besides, I had my own questions to wrestle with…
We went up and down many different
winding, criss-crossing stairs, running into several dead ends. Our wounds
weren’t helping things; we had to literally hang on to each other to stand up.
The little band traveled maybe five
hours? Time didn’t really exist, it seemed.
“AAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!”
The man’s wail echoed creepily
along the interior of the structure, hanging in the air much longer than the
throat of the voice creating it. It was an unnerving sound.
“Are you okay?” I asked her, laying
a hand on her shoulder. She jumped. Then I realized it was her left shoulder….Let’s just say I’ve had
better ideas.
“I…I…I’m fine,” breathless, she
managed to get out.
We paused a moment to get our
nerves back under control.
“Don’t take one more step, or you
are history!” Von Schlange shouted. We both froze. He wasn’t talking to us;
instead this threat was aimed, like his pistol, at two of the henchmen who were
poised to turn tail and attempt to find their way out. “If you try to leave, I
promise that you never will.” They weren’t too keen on this idea.
“See,” said Bull-Face, “other
things – unknown things – they bad! We go back, now.” His protestation was
accompanied by pleading motions to get his friend to come along as well.
“No!”
shouted the gunman. “We shall continue on. The treasure can’t be very far from
this spot. I want it, and you are going to help me retrieve it!”
They decided to solve this probably
the only way they knew; by brute force. Two bits of metal soon ended that plan.
Diana burrowed as close as she could get in order to cope with the gruesome
sight, I held on to her tightly, unsure of how else to protect her. To say it
was peaceful would sound incredibly strange, but I’m not sure how else to
describe it. We were brought back to reality by Von Schlange’s gun barrel
rotating between her head and my chest.
“Do you wish to continue, or shall
I give you a few moments?” the snake leered evilly.
She shoved me away and crossed her
arms. “I think we should go on,” I answered for both of us, sounding (so she told
me) much more confident than I thought I sounded at the time.
“Good. Very good.” said Von Shanks.
We moved around the pit and continued on with our quest, for some reason, I
thought of the opening scene in A Bug’s
Life, where they go around the leaf. That little spark of hope kept me
going for a while, and I reached for Di’s hand. She wasn’t thrilled with that
idea, but after nearly tripping face-first more or less came around to the idea
that it was probably safer.
Eventually we stopped for the
night, and Diana took it upon herself to doctor as best she could my wounds.
Just the kind of womanly instinct that couldn’t be killed, I suppose. She took
some water from a canteen and used it to wipe some of the gunk from my hurts.
At one point she scrubbed too deep, I flinched.
“Sorry,” she apologized.
“’S’okay,”
I tried to grin it off. Diana nodded and kept on attending to her attempted
healing.
“I’ll be
fine, all right? You should worry about cleaning yourself up.” I protested
after several more minutes of this.
She gave me
one of those female looks that have their own grammar and syntax, which I
pretended I didn’t see, and instead kept on staring. She sighed. “….fine. I’ll
patch myself up.”
I observed
for a few minutes, then, very gently, again laid a hand on her bad shoulder.
She most likely wanted to yelp; I’m sure that wasn’t pleasant at all. But not
wanting any more trouble from Van Schlange, she courageously contented herself
by jerking away from the pain.
“I know, it stings. Just try to
stay still, okay? Can’t let the muscles get all stiff.”
I began to massage the aching
joint; trying to keep the muscles active, and slowly she began to unwind, and
eventually, worn out from the recent events, she fell asleep and the night(or
was it day?) passed as we dozed far
enough away from each other to avoid awkwardness, but near enough that one
could quickly rouse the other on dawn of whatever tomorrow held. Kind of like
Ruth and Boaz, I guess."
No comments:
Post a Comment