“Pretty much,” I answer, shrugging my shoulders.

  “Well, damn. That just sucks now don’t it,” Kane says, rubbing his forehead. He then pulls a Desert Eagle from his pack and holds it down to his side, like he’s waiting for an attack. Just for good measure, he flicks off the safety and squeezes the hand grip harder.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  “Never better.”

  “I don’t understand, aren’t we supposed to be in Atlantis?” Nicole asks.

  “I thought so,” I say. “I mean everything here points to Atlantis—the multiple languages and pictographs for one. But…I’m not so sure anymore… It seems like this place was deliberately made separate.”

  “The images in the tunnel showed what looked like an aboveground city, where we’re obviously underground,” Dad adds. “I wonder if this is something else altogether.”

  The shocked expressions say it all, everyone is flat-out stunned at the revelation. But there’s also another look on everyone’s faces. Fear.

  Great, I think. Everyone’s going to be on edge from now on. The last thing we need is a twitchy trigger finger to go off and someone accidentally getting shot.

  “Ok, guys,” I say, “whatever is out there—whether it’s just the shadows playing tricks on us, or not—we need to get some rest. Besides, we have the high ground and can easily defend this position if needed.” I glance over to Kane for reassurance. “Right?”

  He looks over to me with a look that says he’s putting all the scenarios together in his head, trying to find a solution.

  “Kane?” I ask, getting a little worried.

  He turns back toward the forest and shrugs his shoulders. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

  Not exactly the answer I was hoping for.

  He speaks up, still looking off into the distance, “Either way, Hank is right, let’s rest for half-an-hour and recharge the batteries.”

  “How about an hour,” Dad says. “Some of us don’t recharge as quick as we used to.”

  I smile. At least he’s holding it together.

  “Fine…an hour it is,” Kane agrees with a look that says he isn’t overly thrilled.

  Everyone, minus Kane, goes back to what they were doing and starts prepping for the hour break. Nicole breaks out some protein bars and hands them out. We wolf down the snack and wash it down with some of our water reserve. Would have been better with a Sam Adams, I think.

  I lay down, facing the pyramid, propping my bag up under my head. I pull my Glock from my bag and keep it by my side, at the ready, just in case I need it. Omar has moved back up the stairs and is taking photos. He wants to record everything he can while he’s down here. I doubt he’ll ever come back once we’re done.

  Dad sits down next to me.

  “What are you thinking?” he asks, knowing how my brain never shuts up.

  “One thing has been bugging me…” I say, staring at the pyramid. “Why build such an elaborate city like this if what you believed in didn’t actually exist? It makes no sense for an advanced civilization to put in the time and effort to create all this.”

  “So, you believe Kane?” he asks. “You think there’s something out there?”

  “Yes,” I say with no hesitation. Why wouldn’t I believe him? “He’s a former soldier. Those types of guys don’t generally overreact and panic. Especially, the ones who’ve moved on to the intel business. Those guys are the best-of-the-best.”

  Dad just nods. He, like me, has a million things running through his head. It’s a gift the two of us have and another reason we work so well together. But when we aren’t on the job, it becomes a curse. We can never just enjoy our time together back home. It’s work, work, work, no what matter where we are. I think it’s a way for him to cope with Mom’s death. It keeps his mind occupied and off her.

  “Get some rest people,” Kane says still staring off into the forest. “We may not have another chance to do so for some time. I’ll keep watch until it’s time to move out.”

  “He’s right,” I continue, checking my watch. “Get whatever shut-eye you can. I’m setting an alarm for exactly one hour.”

  I wait until everyone else gets settled and then shut my own eyes. I didn’t realize how tired I was until I closed them though. I assume it’s my fried nerves and my slowly healing body that’s giving in to sleep.

  I roll over on my side, facing away from the pyramid, and fall dead asleep. Then, I slip into the craziest dream of my life.

  29

  Maybe calling this a dream isn’t the right description of what I’m experiencing. No, this qualifies as one screwed up nightmare. There’s a voice in my head, taunting me, and a presence that’s both foreign and familiar all at once. It sounds both distant and close like it’s an echo bouncing around in my head.

  I open my eyes and jump to my feet, trying to find the source of the voice, but can’t. I’m still on the landing where I last was, but my team is gone, and the air around me is as cold as ice.

  “You cannot contain me, little one. You haven’t the strength or the ability to do so. If you even try you will burn, of this, I can guarantee. Your mortal bodies are so weak and pathetic. Ha, ha, ha.”

  The booming laughter mixed with the frigid temperature sends a horrible chill racing up and down my body. It’s followed by a pulling sensation that’s worse than any crappy state-fair ride I’ve ever been on. It tugs at me trying to drag me away, deeper into this hellish place. Towards the pyramid.

  “Who are you?” I ask it, looking around. But there’s no one else here. I’m alone and about to pee my pants.

  “You know who I am. I am the destroyer of your world, the End of All Things, and I will not let you or my brothers keep me imprisoned any longer!”

  Could this really be The End? I turn away from the pyramid and try to think. Or is this some twisted manifestation of a beat and bruised psyche?

  I’m about to conclude that it’s the later—when I’m violently pulled at a phenomenal speed, yanked off the platform.

  I bash through tree after tree, feeling like I’m in a rollover wreck on the highway. The sudden bone-jarring impacts rattle my teeth and pound my body, fading my consciousness in-and-out.

  I’m about to pass out from the pain and nausea—when I’m shot out of the forest and thrown to the ground outside of a set of wrought iron gates, landing solidly on my back. I sit up, wheezing hard, still trying to comprehend everything that’s happening. The gates remind me of a medieval cemetery’s front entrance, except this set is in the side of a pyramid.

  It’s a very dark and sinister looking structure now that I’m close enough to see some detail. Its design is an exact match to Khufu, the Great Pyramid of Giza. Or is Khufu a replica of this? It’s another shocking discovery I get to add to the couple I’ve already learned, and of the many more to come, I’m sure.

  If I don’t die in my sleep.

  The elder Khufu has the classic step pyramid design, just like its relative in Egypt, except, the stone that makes up its façade is perfectly preserved and polished, like it was built yesterday.

  And black. Jet-freaking-black.

  Still recovering from the physical toll this nightmare is dishing out, I slowly turn and take in the grounds surrounding the entrance. They’re perfectly manicured, with stone pillars, also black as night. They line the path to the gateway, and head down the main avenue, starting back at the stone forest. In between each pillar are statues, but these aren’t the romantic ones you’d see in Rome or in the Louvre. These are ghastly creatures frozen in cries of pain and anguish.

  “Ah, they put up such a struggle. How wonderful it was to watch them squirm.”

  “They were alive?” I ask, hearing my voice bounce off the stone around me. I look at the statues around me and try to figure out what exactly they are. The creatures look vaguely humanoid in appearance but had some modifications done to their bodies. A few look like a cross between a person and a type of animal species. Each one is its own Minotaur, with its own terrible combination.

  “Alive? Once, yes, but everything must die eventually.” There’s a moment of quiet laughter, and then the voice continues, “Some sooner than others.”

  I’m pulled once again, this time through a dizzying spiraling pathway, and arrive in another underground chamber. This one is the size of a performance hall, its size still impressive, but nowhere near that of the one above my head. Sitting in the center of the room is a dark rock formation, and even from this distance, I can feel the evil radiating off its surface.

  Obsidian, I think. The volcanic rock shines like glass in the firelight.

  That’s when I notice the torches hanging on the walls. There are balls of fire hovering in place with no smoke trail to speak of. It’s like they’re nightlights in a child’s bedroom. Except, these aren’t going to keep the boogeyman away.

  “Come to me.”

  I’m viciously tossed like a ragdoll, towards the onyx shape, and land with a thud. I gasp for air, once again getting the wind knocked out of me. How many times can that happen in a dream? I’m now about twenty feet from the center of the room, covering over fifty feet with the last jolt.

  It’s then I feel something else too, something I’ve never felt in a dream before. Pain. My ribs are killing me again—my back too. The latest slam to the ground, along with the repeated hits I took while bashing through the stone trees are adding up. I felt the pain earlier, but now I truthfully feel it. It lingers in my body and not just my mind. This nightmare is actually physically hurting me outside of it, in the real world. I grunt and stand on wobbly legs, using every ounce of determination I have left not to collapse.

  The rock is about fifteen feet in height and looks like a bonfire frozen in time. A deep red glow emanates from within the stone, adding to its wickedness. It’s quite beautiful…in a horrifying way.

  No sculptor in the world could duplicate this, I think. I take another step forward and see that there are no tool marks in the surface, it’s one seamless piece of rock.

  “Free me!”

  I look around. I thought I heard someone whisper something into the wind. Almost like a half-muted screech.

  Wait—wind? I’m underground, there’s no wind under—

  “Free me, now!”

  I jump back and try to raise my gun, clenching my teeth at the sudden movement. My ribs are on fire again, making my legs buckle a little. I place my hands on my knees and breathe… My empty hands. Okay, no gun. Damn.

  “Release me!”

  I’m again pulled towards the black rock, but this time I stay on my feet, skidding towards it. I will myself to stop, and I do, now less than ten feet away. I’m actually sweating from the mental strength and willpower it took for me to resist. But I did resist.

  I lean on my knees again, feeling my legs tremble beneath them, and try to catch my breath.

  “Ahh, this one is stronger than the last. He couldn’t resist me at all.”

  I look up at my reflection in the polished rock.

  “The…last?” I ask in between huffs.

  “Yes, the last human form I…commandeered. He was very weak-willed.”

  “Weak-willed?” I repeat.

  “Yes, he was easy to manipulate.”

  “The will of the chosen to deny,” I quietly say, thinking back to the ominous inscription, quoting it.

  “What!”

  The ground rumbles and growls, like it’s in pain, but also angry. Stalactites hanging from a non-visible ceiling fall and shatter all around me. Even the fireball nightlights flicker like pissed off fireflies.

  I stand, feeling a little more confident in myself at seeing this thing’s reaction to my last declaration.

  “My will is to deny you,” I say calmly.

  “You cannot deny me, peasant. I am The End, and I shall rule this wretched world.”

  From out of nowhere, hurricane-force winds swirl around me like I’m in my own personal storm. The only thing I can think to do is to start repeating the same thing over and over again. Like a chant.

  “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.”

  I remember this Bible verse, Psalm 23:4, from my youth. I learned it in church, and it always stuck with me. It taught me never to be afraid.

  The wind intensifies, making me almost lose my focus, but I grit my teeth and grunt out another chant.

  “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil!”

  A roar like a hundred grizzly bears mixed with a freight train bellows in my ears. The firelight brightens ten-fold too, forcing my eyes closed. The heat is so intense that I actually feel the burn on my skin.

  I kneel down, cup my ears, and continue.

  “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.”

  “You will be mine eventually, slave! I will own you and the rest of this miserable race! And you…shall be my pet!”

  Slave? Miserable? Pet? This bastard has a lot to learn about me, and the human race! I think to myself.

  I slowly stand against the tempest and stare into the obsidian rock.

  A face emerges in its side, rippling like water. It moves about freely, never disconnecting, like a Pin Art toy. The face is like an impression in its surface, being pushed out from inside.

  It’s vaguely humanoid just like the statues of pain outside of the pyramid, except, there’s no mouth. There is, however, a slit where the mouth should be, and the eyes are like an insect’s, never blinking.

  It almost looks like an armored mask or helmet, I think.

  But what really catches my attention is the symbol burning red-hot in the middle of the face’s forehead.

  A Greek omega? That’s the second time I’ve seen that symbol associated with this place. The first was up top, on the hatch of the trap door entrance, the one with the Latin inscription.

  Omega has several meanings depending on its context. Its literal translation means the end, with it being the last letter of the Greek alphabet. Alpha and Omega…

  Huh, I think. I guess we know where he got his name from…or…where they got the name for the Greek character from.

  “I will own you! Your very existence will belong to me!” The voice booms again in my mind.

  Now, I’m getting really, really pissed off. I need to fight back somehow.

  Regardless, my temper is starting to boil over. “Own me? You want to own me? Not happening! You see, we here in the modern world have a little more information at our disposal than the poor saps you subjugated back in your day.” I take a step forward. “Like for instance, I know we’re in my head—in my subconscious—which means I can control everything if I want to. We call it lucid dreaming.”

  Another strong wind buffets me, trying to knock me to the floor, but it doesn’t have any effect on me whatsoever. I just slice through it like an aerodynamic knife, carving a path straight ahead.

  I cock my thumb in my direction, feeling as bold as ever. Knowing that I have full control over my surroundings has given me renewed strength and a significant confidence boost. “You’re in my world asshole!” I say, adding a little extra to the ownership part of the exclamation.

  I take another step forward, staring daggers into the expressionless face. “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will not fear…you!”

  I bring up my hand and will my gun to appear.

  It does.

  I raise it and aim it at the face shimmering in the rock. I put the sights right in the middle of the fiery symbol etched into The End’s forehead.

  Then, I pull the trigger, imagining my advancing bullet is made of the same fire that lights this hellish place. As it continues, time seems to slow down to a crawl, like the round is trying to push through molasses. Then, like a meteor breaking through the Earth’s atmosphere, it bursts into flames, glowing white. The flaming projectile burns through the time-crawl and slams home, piercing the monstrous face.

  The sinister voice shrieks in agony, and the lava rock explodes, throwing me back into reality…and into a whole new world of pain.

  30

  “Hank, you okay?” a voice asks. “Come on man, wake up!”

  Something strikes my cheek. Did somebody just slap me? I think, my mind still spinning.

  “What the hell!” I shout, flinching awake as I get struck again. I finally stir from my very real, horrifying dream. I blindly swing a fist, intent on punching whoever is attacking me. It’s a pathetic attempt and comes out as a disoriented flail, and I fall on my ass, feeling like I’m about to vomit.

  I flop onto the ground, smacking the back of my head on the stone platform’s unrelenting surface. My breathing is quick and shallow. I’m on the verge of hyperventilating. Sweat covers my skin, rolling down my face and into my eyes, stinging them. And I feel hot…really hot.

  The floor rumbles, making my teeth chatter in time with the shaking, capping off the worst awakening I’ve ever experienced. Even worse than the hospital bed in Algiers.

  “Get him up, we need to go,” says another voice.

  I feel someone try to lift me, but they fail and drop me. I spill onto to the floor in a heap and hit my head…again.

  “Shit!” yells the first voice. “He’s burning up.”

  The fire, I think as I sit up, feeling my head try to clear itself.

  “I’m fine…I’m fine,” I utter and stand, then stumble.

  Finding my balance, I lift my eyes and take a look around.

  Since when were we involved in a war?

  Dad has a cut over his left eye, Nicole is holding her arm, and Omar is cleaning up our gear, which has been flung everywhere. Kane seems to be the only one unscathed, but I see him holding onto the platform’s makeshift railing, keeping himself steady as it bucks and rocks.

  The damage isn’t exclusive to our small campsite either.

  One of the perimeter wall’s lava outlets has cracked and burst, spewing forth a waterfall of magma.

  Great… Just wonderful.

  I turn to the stone forest and see a broken zigzagging pattern cutting through it. Even the molten river bank is broken and burning, all but impassable.