KiltedClaymore
Member
it's dead and gone
Bit Me: A story of the end of the world
- Thread starter hrgrisso
- Start date
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ShunZu
member
If you all would like something to read about SHTF, the third book in the New Madrid Trilogy is underway... I can begin posting chapters if you'd like. Just shout out.
mike6161
Member
begin the posting shunzu! I loved a matter of timing.
ShunZu
member
Only warning is that it'll have LOTS of spoilers for Book #2....
RonE
Member
I am disappointed.....At the beginning of this story, one of the moderators said that as long as there was a beginning and an ending it would be ok to post a story.....I am disappointed at the lack of an ending.
ShunZu
member
Rather than skip to the 3rd book in the series, I'll post #2. I just wish copy & paste worked better posting... each paragraph when copied here needs to have an extra line feed, text formatting (bold, italics, etc.) doesn't come through, and it's pretty time consuming.
For those of you who read the first book, be prepared for something a little different -- but it needs to be in order to set up the 3rd in the trilogy.
BTW, the first book went through another edit and the publisher temporarily removed it from availability. It's supposed to be back at the printers early this coming week.
Hope y'all enjoy.
For those of you who read the first book, be prepared for something a little different -- but it needs to be in order to set up the 3rd in the trilogy.
BTW, the first book went through another edit and the publisher temporarily removed it from availability. It's supposed to be back at the printers early this coming week.
Hope y'all enjoy.
ShunZu
member
The Cataclysm Scroll - Forward
Foreword
When I was in college in the early 70’s, the term metaphysics emerged to encompass phenomenon outside the realm of science’s understanding. Yet, what was considered voodoo and magic by medical science in those days is now regularly found in pamphlets you can pick up in your doctor’s office today; Helping the heart oxygenate the blood by deep breathing exercises, stress reduction by visualizing you’re sitting in a clover field in the country, and relaxation techniques to improve the overall health and well-being of the body. Meditation years ago meant some form of scary spiritualism to most people. Today, enlightenment is intertwined in our daily lives and accepted without a second thought as to its origin.
Wonderful works of art have been created in the middle of the night by composers and authors who awoke with a storyline or a musical passage, and jumped out of bed to get it on paper before it drifted from their mind. It is here, in a special level of the mind, that extraordinary things can happen. We’ll call it the subconscious for lack of a more descriptive term. But IT is where, I am sure, Samuel Clemens along with other great artists such as Beethoven and Mozart, found much of their inspiration – The Dream State… a labyrinth of mystery, virtually endless in its possibilities. When Hans Zimmer wrote what is, in my humble opinion, the perfect music score for the movie Gladiator, he surely must have been pulling on resources beyond the conscious. The mind, with its virtually infinite levels of conscious and subconscious, still remains a great mystery, patiently waiting for us to fully realize its potential.
Lucid dreams, nightmares, fleeting out-of-body experiences and mysticism with all of its unexplainable possibilities need more study to allow mankind to better understand. We are as a child struggling to understand calculus. Science tells us that we only use 10% of our brains. If that’s true, then the mind is certainly one of the final frontiers and begs to be explored. Breakthroughs in understanding are imminent.
That is, if we are given time to solve the puzzle. As a people, we are treading too heavily on Mother Earth, and we can only pray She continues to tolerate our ignorance and selfishness. While we blindly race to own that larger house and drive a bigger SUV, we are using up resources that took millions of years to develop. And we’ve done it, essentially, in a single generation.
For thousands of years, Man lived in harmony with nature and our host, the Earth. But now we are running out of oil, there are food shortages worldwide, drinking water is becoming evermore precious, and the oceans are being fished out to feed the exploding population. It is a sobering thought when one thinks just a few years ahead, to what the next generation will face. I hope you share my concern for our children and their children.
I strive to write from that zone we understand so little of. Much of my inspiration of glimpsing forward comes from dreams and meditation. I sincerely hope that the scenarios depicted in fiction never come to pass. But polarization of opinions, intolerance of one society toward another, political manipulation for world dominance, and religious extremists of nearly all beliefs threaten our continued existence on Mother Earth.
Whether we will suddenly wake up as a society and collectively work to solve the problems we’ve created, or blast each other to dust, continues to be the most important question facing us all. For the sake of future generations, let us pray we awake from the fog of ignorance – and that those prayers are answered by whatever Higher Forces exist in the universe.
Peace on Earth, good will toward Men. Or Mankind certainly faces a self-fulfilling prophecy.
(C) Copyright 2008 - All Rights Reserved
Foreword
When I was in college in the early 70’s, the term metaphysics emerged to encompass phenomenon outside the realm of science’s understanding. Yet, what was considered voodoo and magic by medical science in those days is now regularly found in pamphlets you can pick up in your doctor’s office today; Helping the heart oxygenate the blood by deep breathing exercises, stress reduction by visualizing you’re sitting in a clover field in the country, and relaxation techniques to improve the overall health and well-being of the body. Meditation years ago meant some form of scary spiritualism to most people. Today, enlightenment is intertwined in our daily lives and accepted without a second thought as to its origin.
Wonderful works of art have been created in the middle of the night by composers and authors who awoke with a storyline or a musical passage, and jumped out of bed to get it on paper before it drifted from their mind. It is here, in a special level of the mind, that extraordinary things can happen. We’ll call it the subconscious for lack of a more descriptive term. But IT is where, I am sure, Samuel Clemens along with other great artists such as Beethoven and Mozart, found much of their inspiration – The Dream State… a labyrinth of mystery, virtually endless in its possibilities. When Hans Zimmer wrote what is, in my humble opinion, the perfect music score for the movie Gladiator, he surely must have been pulling on resources beyond the conscious. The mind, with its virtually infinite levels of conscious and subconscious, still remains a great mystery, patiently waiting for us to fully realize its potential.
Lucid dreams, nightmares, fleeting out-of-body experiences and mysticism with all of its unexplainable possibilities need more study to allow mankind to better understand. We are as a child struggling to understand calculus. Science tells us that we only use 10% of our brains. If that’s true, then the mind is certainly one of the final frontiers and begs to be explored. Breakthroughs in understanding are imminent.
That is, if we are given time to solve the puzzle. As a people, we are treading too heavily on Mother Earth, and we can only pray She continues to tolerate our ignorance and selfishness. While we blindly race to own that larger house and drive a bigger SUV, we are using up resources that took millions of years to develop. And we’ve done it, essentially, in a single generation.
For thousands of years, Man lived in harmony with nature and our host, the Earth. But now we are running out of oil, there are food shortages worldwide, drinking water is becoming evermore precious, and the oceans are being fished out to feed the exploding population. It is a sobering thought when one thinks just a few years ahead, to what the next generation will face. I hope you share my concern for our children and their children.
I strive to write from that zone we understand so little of. Much of my inspiration of glimpsing forward comes from dreams and meditation. I sincerely hope that the scenarios depicted in fiction never come to pass. But polarization of opinions, intolerance of one society toward another, political manipulation for world dominance, and religious extremists of nearly all beliefs threaten our continued existence on Mother Earth.
Whether we will suddenly wake up as a society and collectively work to solve the problems we’ve created, or blast each other to dust, continues to be the most important question facing us all. For the sake of future generations, let us pray we awake from the fog of ignorance – and that those prayers are answered by whatever Higher Forces exist in the universe.
Peace on Earth, good will toward Men. Or Mankind certainly faces a self-fulfilling prophecy.
(C) Copyright 2008 - All Rights Reserved
ShunZu
member
The Cataclysm Scroll - Chapter 1
The ugly, muddy water from Lake Mississippi flowed in and out of the caves in the bluffs south of what remained of St. Louis, Missouri the month following the strongest earthquake recorded in U.S. history. Thousands of years ago, the bluffs on the Illinois side of the river had been part of the natural terrain that held the Mississippi River in its banks. But as waters receded centuries ago, the limestone caves that were left in the bluffs had been found to be perfect for mushroom farms. The New Madrid killer earthquake that had rocked the area a month before had once again called on the bluffs to contain what now was called Lake Mississippi. Today, its muddy water lapped at the limestone shoreline, continuing to erode the bluffs in a process that Mother Nature had started thousands of years ago.
Congress had formally named Lake Mississippi only two weeks before, and it was considered the Nation’s sixth great lake. Slightly smaller in volume than Lake Erie, it ran north and south several hundred miles, from just north of St. Louis to twenty miles north of Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Not nearly as wide as Lake Erie, however, it looked like a big, fat river when looking down from the satellites orbiting Earth.
To a great extent, the anarchy that had dominated the area the first two weeks following the quake had subsided. The National Guard and the area’s militias had been largely responsible for initially quelling the violence and removing the war lords from their positions of power. United Nations troops had been shipped home, partly because their presence was inflammatory to many American citizens, but primarily because of what 130 Iranian terrorists posing as U.N. relief forces had done to National Guard and militia troops at a camp just south of St. Louis.
It had been dubbed the “The Arnold Massacre”, where a covert pocket of Iranian special forces troops had infiltrated the U.N. relief effort and slaughtered American soldiers and militiamen in their sleep in order to launch a secret terrorist attack against the United States. The camp had been located between Arnold and Fenton, Missouri, and work had already begun erecting a monument in honor of those who had given their lives defending the people who were trying to survive the chaos following the earthquake.
It was evening, and two geology students and their associate professor were having a dinner meeting at the Red Lobster in Fairview Heights, Illinois, discussing their findings from the day. Laura Tanner was the associate professor of geology for the University of Illinois in Champaign Urbana, Illinois. The team had been working the bluffs south of Columbia, Illinois for the past week, doing studies on the effects of the earthquake and gathering samples of rock and sediment around the shoreline of Lake Mississippi. The U of I had received a small grant for earthquake research, and Laura had been tagged as the most qualified because she was a certified PADI dive master and her bachelors degree was in geology with a masters in archaeology.
While the quake had been a disaster for most people, its timing couldn’t have been any better for her because she was writing her doctoral on tsunamis created by underwater earthquakes in the Far East.
The students, Josh, and Katie had been trying to stay focused on their research, but they were still in awe from the havoc and wreckage created by the 9.2 quake and all its aftershocks. Even after seeing the ruins first-hand, they still had a difficult time understanding how all the damage could have been done in two minutes. And several of the aftershocks had registered over 5.5, as if Mother Nature wanted to make sure that an entirely new landscape formed in this section of America.
There had been over thirty aftershocks, even one today registering 3.6. Downtown St. Louis had lost nearly all its major buildings in the initial monster, and those that had remained still had several feet of water flowing through their first couple floors. The new Busch Stadium, the home of the St. Louis Cardinals, was lying mostly in ruins, its shiny new bricks now just piles of moss-gathering masonry under seven feet of nasty water. Catfish had enjoyed the stadium franks, sacks of potato chips and pretzels that had become food for fish rather than baseball fans.
As the waitress delivered meals to the three, Josh continued to make his point, “But Miss Tanner, don’t you think all this water is way contaminated? Why in Hell would you want to scuba in any of those caves tomorrow?”
Katie agreed, “Yeah, the visibility will be Z-E-R-O and there’s still bodies they haven’t recovered yet! Can you imagine bumping in to a person that’s been dead for over a month in this August heat? You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me. I’d totally hurl!”
Josh laughed at how Katie had stated her opinion, in the best Valley Girl speak, and Laura smiled but shook her head in disagreement.
The professor said, “There’s a couple dive teams still working the lake, and most of the bodies have been recovered according to the news. I have good dive equipment, and as far as any of the local officials know, nobody has been back in any of the caves yet that are now underwater to see what changes have occurred since the quake.”
Josh continued the argument. “But what if there’s another aftershock and the cave falls in on you? We can’t dive and we’d never be able to get you out!”
Laura smiled and laughed at their parental concern, “You guys need to quit worrying about me and think about why we’re here! There’s been so many changes to this area in the last month, we’ll spend years studying why it happened. Some day we may even be able to predict the next time the New Madrid fault’s going to go, and save a bunch of lives.”
The banter continued as the team anxiously awaited their next day on the bluffs. Laura knew she was going to explore the caves the following day, regardless of her students’ concerns.
Early the next morning the team was on their way to the bluffs. Laura’s little Honda Civic’s interior and trunk was crowded with all their gear, but gas economy was important because of the fuel shortages in the area since the earthquake. State highway 159 now ran nearly parallel to the new lake and they had to use it rather than I-255 because the interstate had been built in the lowlands and was now entirely under water. 159 was still strewn with abandoned cars and trucks, mostly out of fuel, that had not yet been recovered by their owners. In many cases, their owners would not be picking them up – because the anarchy that had been rampant for two weeks following the quake had claimed their lives.
Entire subdivisions had been sacked by roving bands of lawless hoards, raping, murdering and pillaging suburban homes looking for food, water, shelter, guns and ammo. Many families had chosen to bug out altogether, moving to other sections of America that had little or no damage from the earthquake. But over half had decided to stay, either because they couldn’t get out or because they wanted to stay the course with their families and friends. And that decision to stay, for tens of thousands, had spelled death and carnage never before seen in this Nation. Many families that stood alone, especially those that had no firearms in the home, had been murdered in the anarchy. The families that survived had had the foresight to gather in force in farms and small rural communities that could be defended.
The government’s estimate for death due to the quake and the pestilence that followed was over a million, and the count was growing daily. Cleanup was slow mostly because of the fuel shortages, collapsed bridges and overpasses, and railways completely out of commission. For reconstruction of the St. Louis area, everything had to come from the West by truck because there were no bridges spanning Lake Mississippi. Supplies had to come from the East for rebuilding all the cities on that side of the lake, as far north as Alton, Illinois south past Memphis and beyond.
Some discussion in Washington had been bantered about for a new bridge to span the lake, but FEMA and Homeland Security took a hard position on rebuilding what had been ruined before beginning new engineering efforts on 3-mile wide bridges. A cottage industry had spawned the last couple weeks by enterprising boat owners, ferrying people and equipment back and forth between Illinois and Missouri.
The Cataclysm Scroll
-1-
The ugly, muddy water from Lake Mississippi flowed in and out of the caves in the bluffs south of what remained of St. Louis, Missouri the month following the strongest earthquake recorded in U.S. history. Thousands of years ago, the bluffs on the Illinois side of the river had been part of the natural terrain that held the Mississippi River in its banks. But as waters receded centuries ago, the limestone caves that were left in the bluffs had been found to be perfect for mushroom farms. The New Madrid killer earthquake that had rocked the area a month before had once again called on the bluffs to contain what now was called Lake Mississippi. Today, its muddy water lapped at the limestone shoreline, continuing to erode the bluffs in a process that Mother Nature had started thousands of years ago.
Congress had formally named Lake Mississippi only two weeks before, and it was considered the Nation’s sixth great lake. Slightly smaller in volume than Lake Erie, it ran north and south several hundred miles, from just north of St. Louis to twenty miles north of Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Not nearly as wide as Lake Erie, however, it looked like a big, fat river when looking down from the satellites orbiting Earth.
To a great extent, the anarchy that had dominated the area the first two weeks following the quake had subsided. The National Guard and the area’s militias had been largely responsible for initially quelling the violence and removing the war lords from their positions of power. United Nations troops had been shipped home, partly because their presence was inflammatory to many American citizens, but primarily because of what 130 Iranian terrorists posing as U.N. relief forces had done to National Guard and militia troops at a camp just south of St. Louis.
It had been dubbed the “The Arnold Massacre”, where a covert pocket of Iranian special forces troops had infiltrated the U.N. relief effort and slaughtered American soldiers and militiamen in their sleep in order to launch a secret terrorist attack against the United States. The camp had been located between Arnold and Fenton, Missouri, and work had already begun erecting a monument in honor of those who had given their lives defending the people who were trying to survive the chaos following the earthquake.
It was evening, and two geology students and their associate professor were having a dinner meeting at the Red Lobster in Fairview Heights, Illinois, discussing their findings from the day. Laura Tanner was the associate professor of geology for the University of Illinois in Champaign Urbana, Illinois. The team had been working the bluffs south of Columbia, Illinois for the past week, doing studies on the effects of the earthquake and gathering samples of rock and sediment around the shoreline of Lake Mississippi. The U of I had received a small grant for earthquake research, and Laura had been tagged as the most qualified because she was a certified PADI dive master and her bachelors degree was in geology with a masters in archaeology.
While the quake had been a disaster for most people, its timing couldn’t have been any better for her because she was writing her doctoral on tsunamis created by underwater earthquakes in the Far East.
The students, Josh, and Katie had been trying to stay focused on their research, but they were still in awe from the havoc and wreckage created by the 9.2 quake and all its aftershocks. Even after seeing the ruins first-hand, they still had a difficult time understanding how all the damage could have been done in two minutes. And several of the aftershocks had registered over 5.5, as if Mother Nature wanted to make sure that an entirely new landscape formed in this section of America.
There had been over thirty aftershocks, even one today registering 3.6. Downtown St. Louis had lost nearly all its major buildings in the initial monster, and those that had remained still had several feet of water flowing through their first couple floors. The new Busch Stadium, the home of the St. Louis Cardinals, was lying mostly in ruins, its shiny new bricks now just piles of moss-gathering masonry under seven feet of nasty water. Catfish had enjoyed the stadium franks, sacks of potato chips and pretzels that had become food for fish rather than baseball fans.
As the waitress delivered meals to the three, Josh continued to make his point, “But Miss Tanner, don’t you think all this water is way contaminated? Why in Hell would you want to scuba in any of those caves tomorrow?”
Katie agreed, “Yeah, the visibility will be Z-E-R-O and there’s still bodies they haven’t recovered yet! Can you imagine bumping in to a person that’s been dead for over a month in this August heat? You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me. I’d totally hurl!”
Josh laughed at how Katie had stated her opinion, in the best Valley Girl speak, and Laura smiled but shook her head in disagreement.
The professor said, “There’s a couple dive teams still working the lake, and most of the bodies have been recovered according to the news. I have good dive equipment, and as far as any of the local officials know, nobody has been back in any of the caves yet that are now underwater to see what changes have occurred since the quake.”
Josh continued the argument. “But what if there’s another aftershock and the cave falls in on you? We can’t dive and we’d never be able to get you out!”
Laura smiled and laughed at their parental concern, “You guys need to quit worrying about me and think about why we’re here! There’s been so many changes to this area in the last month, we’ll spend years studying why it happened. Some day we may even be able to predict the next time the New Madrid fault’s going to go, and save a bunch of lives.”
The banter continued as the team anxiously awaited their next day on the bluffs. Laura knew she was going to explore the caves the following day, regardless of her students’ concerns.
Early the next morning the team was on their way to the bluffs. Laura’s little Honda Civic’s interior and trunk was crowded with all their gear, but gas economy was important because of the fuel shortages in the area since the earthquake. State highway 159 now ran nearly parallel to the new lake and they had to use it rather than I-255 because the interstate had been built in the lowlands and was now entirely under water. 159 was still strewn with abandoned cars and trucks, mostly out of fuel, that had not yet been recovered by their owners. In many cases, their owners would not be picking them up – because the anarchy that had been rampant for two weeks following the quake had claimed their lives.
Entire subdivisions had been sacked by roving bands of lawless hoards, raping, murdering and pillaging suburban homes looking for food, water, shelter, guns and ammo. Many families had chosen to bug out altogether, moving to other sections of America that had little or no damage from the earthquake. But over half had decided to stay, either because they couldn’t get out or because they wanted to stay the course with their families and friends. And that decision to stay, for tens of thousands, had spelled death and carnage never before seen in this Nation. Many families that stood alone, especially those that had no firearms in the home, had been murdered in the anarchy. The families that survived had had the foresight to gather in force in farms and small rural communities that could be defended.
The government’s estimate for death due to the quake and the pestilence that followed was over a million, and the count was growing daily. Cleanup was slow mostly because of the fuel shortages, collapsed bridges and overpasses, and railways completely out of commission. For reconstruction of the St. Louis area, everything had to come from the West by truck because there were no bridges spanning Lake Mississippi. Supplies had to come from the East for rebuilding all the cities on that side of the lake, as far north as Alton, Illinois south past Memphis and beyond.
Some discussion in Washington had been bantered about for a new bridge to span the lake, but FEMA and Homeland Security took a hard position on rebuilding what had been ruined before beginning new engineering efforts on 3-mile wide bridges. A cottage industry had spawned the last couple weeks by enterprising boat owners, ferrying people and equipment back and forth between Illinois and Missouri.
ShunZu
member
Chapter 1 continued
The team reached the bluffs near Valmeyer, Illinois, where they had been working gathering samples. The lower sections around Valmeyer had been flooded out in the great flood of ’93 and the town had been rebuilt on higher ground rather than in the flood plain again. Apparently the town’s citizens saw Mother Nature’s warning in ’93, because now the lowlands were under Lake Mississippi. It had proven a wise decision to move the town, indeed.
The morning embraced the team with a beautiful sunrise, 70 degrees and not a cloud in the sky. It was as if the sun had forgotten the earthquake, ignoring the bloated bodies scattered around still floating in the water.
Turtles, catfish and crawfish had found the food supply seemingly endless. A few boats filled with volunteers out on the lake were visible by the team, still searching for what was left of the bodies before turtles could finish stripping the bones like piranha.
Josh shook his head at the professor while she was putting on her dive gear. He said, “Boss lady, I still say you’re crazy for getting in to these caves, they’re way too dangerous.”
Laura laughed as she finished putting on her wet suit, struggling to get the tight lycra over her shoulders. She said, “And you worry too much. I’ve been diving for five years, Josh. Lots of hours logged underwater since my certification.”
Katie piled on, “And how much cave diving have you done?”
Laura smiled at their concern, “There are some really cool caves in an old quarry called Blackwater just north of Columbia, Missouri. Three years ago I got some hours in their underwater tunnels, and I’ve also dived Bon Terre mines just a couple hours from here. It’s a great big underground cavern that was a lead mine a century ago, flooded when they mined it out and left. It’s great diving!”
Katie nodded and said, “Yeah, I’ve heard the water’s really clear in Bon Terre mine. But the water in these caves is muddy and you have no idea what you may find in them.”
“Alright, then you two can tend my rope if it’ll make you feel any better,” Laura said. “If I get in trouble, I’ll just yank the rope twice and you guys pull me up, okay?” She slipped on her wet suit booties.
The students looked at each other, agreeing on the compromise.
Josh said, “Alright. But you be careful.”
Laura nodded, grabbed her mask, fins, snorkel and backpack that held the scuba tank. It was older Scubapro equipment that she’d bought used when working on her Master’s degree, but it had never failed her and was still good quality for an amateur diver. The tank was a pewter colored U.S. Diver Professional 80 cubic footer. Josh and Katie had kidded her it was exactly like the scuba tank used in the original Jaws movie to blow up the shark at the very end. She was also carrying a small dive light and a ‘goody bag’, a string-cinched nylon sack about two-feet square, to carry rock samples and other curiosities she found worthy of bringing to the surface.
She carried the equipment down a steep hill that approached the water being careful not to slip on the loose rocks, with the two team members close behind carrying a 200 foot rope. She stopped when she reached the water, swung up the stabilizer jacket with its backpack that held the tank, strapped it on, then slowly walked into the water carrying her mask and fins. She put on her lead weight belt at the water’s edge, because without it the wet suit made her too buoyant. Josh then tied the yellow nylon rope around her backpack’s carry handle. He jerked it a bit to ensure it was tightly snugged up.
“All good to go back there?” Laura asked, turning around as much as she could with all the gear on.
“Yep,” Josh nodded. “I’ll turn your air on. Ready?”
“Let’s go!” Laura said anxiously. Once Josh had finished opening the tank’s valve, she tapped the button on the regulator above the mouthpiece to ensure air was flowing. It shot out some air, telling them all the equipment was working fine.
The team reached the bluffs near Valmeyer, Illinois, where they had been working gathering samples. The lower sections around Valmeyer had been flooded out in the great flood of ’93 and the town had been rebuilt on higher ground rather than in the flood plain again. Apparently the town’s citizens saw Mother Nature’s warning in ’93, because now the lowlands were under Lake Mississippi. It had proven a wise decision to move the town, indeed.
The morning embraced the team with a beautiful sunrise, 70 degrees and not a cloud in the sky. It was as if the sun had forgotten the earthquake, ignoring the bloated bodies scattered around still floating in the water.
Turtles, catfish and crawfish had found the food supply seemingly endless. A few boats filled with volunteers out on the lake were visible by the team, still searching for what was left of the bodies before turtles could finish stripping the bones like piranha.
Josh shook his head at the professor while she was putting on her dive gear. He said, “Boss lady, I still say you’re crazy for getting in to these caves, they’re way too dangerous.”
Laura laughed as she finished putting on her wet suit, struggling to get the tight lycra over her shoulders. She said, “And you worry too much. I’ve been diving for five years, Josh. Lots of hours logged underwater since my certification.”
Katie piled on, “And how much cave diving have you done?”
Laura smiled at their concern, “There are some really cool caves in an old quarry called Blackwater just north of Columbia, Missouri. Three years ago I got some hours in their underwater tunnels, and I’ve also dived Bon Terre mines just a couple hours from here. It’s a great big underground cavern that was a lead mine a century ago, flooded when they mined it out and left. It’s great diving!”
Katie nodded and said, “Yeah, I’ve heard the water’s really clear in Bon Terre mine. But the water in these caves is muddy and you have no idea what you may find in them.”
“Alright, then you two can tend my rope if it’ll make you feel any better,” Laura said. “If I get in trouble, I’ll just yank the rope twice and you guys pull me up, okay?” She slipped on her wet suit booties.
The students looked at each other, agreeing on the compromise.
Josh said, “Alright. But you be careful.”
Laura nodded, grabbed her mask, fins, snorkel and backpack that held the scuba tank. It was older Scubapro equipment that she’d bought used when working on her Master’s degree, but it had never failed her and was still good quality for an amateur diver. The tank was a pewter colored U.S. Diver Professional 80 cubic footer. Josh and Katie had kidded her it was exactly like the scuba tank used in the original Jaws movie to blow up the shark at the very end. She was also carrying a small dive light and a ‘goody bag’, a string-cinched nylon sack about two-feet square, to carry rock samples and other curiosities she found worthy of bringing to the surface.
She carried the equipment down a steep hill that approached the water being careful not to slip on the loose rocks, with the two team members close behind carrying a 200 foot rope. She stopped when she reached the water, swung up the stabilizer jacket with its backpack that held the tank, strapped it on, then slowly walked into the water carrying her mask and fins. She put on her lead weight belt at the water’s edge, because without it the wet suit made her too buoyant. Josh then tied the yellow nylon rope around her backpack’s carry handle. He jerked it a bit to ensure it was tightly snugged up.
“All good to go back there?” Laura asked, turning around as much as she could with all the gear on.
“Yep,” Josh nodded. “I’ll turn your air on. Ready?”
“Let’s go!” Laura said anxiously. Once Josh had finished opening the tank’s valve, she tapped the button on the regulator above the mouthpiece to ensure air was flowing. It shot out some air, telling them all the equipment was working fine.
ShunZu
member
Chapter 1 continued
Laura slowly walked into the water, stepping on rocks and the nasty mud deposited by the lake already. She slipped a bit, nearly falling backward because the weight of the tank hanging on her back made keeping balance difficult. Once she was waist-high in the water, she slipped on the swim fins one at a time, spit in her mask and wiped it around so it didn’t fog, put on the mask and smiled. The students laughed at the same time, Laura’s funny-looking smile being twisted out of proportion by the mask resting on her top lip.
She put the air regulator in her mouth, took a couple breaths, and glided into the murky water. Josh and Katie let the rope slip through their hands as Laura slowly moved down and away from them. They didn’t how good, or bad, the underwater visibility was for Laura, but they lost sight of her just inches from the surface.
“My God,” Laura thought to herself as she felt her way along the bottom just a few feet from the surface, “Zero visibility is an understatement!” Her dive light cast so little light in front of its lens, it reminded her of a candle in an auditorium. The water was so murky she couldn’t see more than a foot out in front of the light. She had never been in water that, in broad daylight, was pitch black only a few feet below the surface.
It was also easy to get disoriented in the muddy water. She was heading what she believed to be south along the cliffs, now down about twenty feet she guessed. She reached out and brought up the hose that held her depth and tank pressure gauges to look at their numbers. Holding the dive light right on the instruments only inches from her mask, she could barely see the gauges: 18 feet deep, 2600 pounds of air left.
“Lots of air,” she thought to herself. She continued moving along near the steep incline on her left, meaning she should be heading south. A few minutes later, it got even darker immediately beneath her.
“A cave!” she thought, and moved her legs and fins to glide down toward the gaping darkness that resembled a huge open mouth waiting to swallow her. The dive light barely illuminated her path as she moved into the darkness below.
“How far you think she’s gone?” Katie asked Josh.
Josh shook his head slowly, “Not sure, I’d say about eighty feet or so. We’ve got a little more than half the rope left.” They both glanced at the rope lying on the ground next to them, watching as it slowly diminished in size as their professor continued her dive in the lake.
Laura had collected a few rocks and placed them in the goody bag as she moved further into the cave. One rock felt particularly interesting, about the size of her fist She noticed there was less water turbulence in the cave, and the clarity was slightly better. She could see about three feet with the help of the dive light. In the back of her mind, she’d been wondering how much rope was left.
She kept moving deeper in to the cave. It had indeed been used as a mushroom farm. She passed over the top of some tables that had rusting small tools laying on them. She placed a pair of rusted needle-nosed pliers in her goody bag to show the students when she got topside.
As she shined the flashlight around the inside of the cave, there was a faint flash on the wall. She moved closer to inspect it, wondering what could possibly be shiny amongst all the mud and slime. It was only about three feet away, peeking out of the rock and sediment wall near the top of the cave. It resembled the bottom of an aluminum tin can, but larger in diameter, she guessed about four inches across. It was sticking about three inches out of the rock.
Laura slowly walked into the water, stepping on rocks and the nasty mud deposited by the lake already. She slipped a bit, nearly falling backward because the weight of the tank hanging on her back made keeping balance difficult. Once she was waist-high in the water, she slipped on the swim fins one at a time, spit in her mask and wiped it around so it didn’t fog, put on the mask and smiled. The students laughed at the same time, Laura’s funny-looking smile being twisted out of proportion by the mask resting on her top lip.
She put the air regulator in her mouth, took a couple breaths, and glided into the murky water. Josh and Katie let the rope slip through their hands as Laura slowly moved down and away from them. They didn’t how good, or bad, the underwater visibility was for Laura, but they lost sight of her just inches from the surface.
“My God,” Laura thought to herself as she felt her way along the bottom just a few feet from the surface, “Zero visibility is an understatement!” Her dive light cast so little light in front of its lens, it reminded her of a candle in an auditorium. The water was so murky she couldn’t see more than a foot out in front of the light. She had never been in water that, in broad daylight, was pitch black only a few feet below the surface.
It was also easy to get disoriented in the muddy water. She was heading what she believed to be south along the cliffs, now down about twenty feet she guessed. She reached out and brought up the hose that held her depth and tank pressure gauges to look at their numbers. Holding the dive light right on the instruments only inches from her mask, she could barely see the gauges: 18 feet deep, 2600 pounds of air left.
“Lots of air,” she thought to herself. She continued moving along near the steep incline on her left, meaning she should be heading south. A few minutes later, it got even darker immediately beneath her.
“A cave!” she thought, and moved her legs and fins to glide down toward the gaping darkness that resembled a huge open mouth waiting to swallow her. The dive light barely illuminated her path as she moved into the darkness below.
“How far you think she’s gone?” Katie asked Josh.
Josh shook his head slowly, “Not sure, I’d say about eighty feet or so. We’ve got a little more than half the rope left.” They both glanced at the rope lying on the ground next to them, watching as it slowly diminished in size as their professor continued her dive in the lake.
Laura had collected a few rocks and placed them in the goody bag as she moved further into the cave. One rock felt particularly interesting, about the size of her fist She noticed there was less water turbulence in the cave, and the clarity was slightly better. She could see about three feet with the help of the dive light. In the back of her mind, she’d been wondering how much rope was left.
She kept moving deeper in to the cave. It had indeed been used as a mushroom farm. She passed over the top of some tables that had rusting small tools laying on them. She placed a pair of rusted needle-nosed pliers in her goody bag to show the students when she got topside.
As she shined the flashlight around the inside of the cave, there was a faint flash on the wall. She moved closer to inspect it, wondering what could possibly be shiny amongst all the mud and slime. It was only about three feet away, peeking out of the rock and sediment wall near the top of the cave. It resembled the bottom of an aluminum tin can, but larger in diameter, she guessed about four inches across. It was sticking about three inches out of the rock.
ShunZu
member
Chapter 1 (still) continued
She tapped it with the dive light. Metal. It made a strange sound, and even under water, it didn’t make a sound like she thought it should have. She tapped on it again with a fingernail. It definitely sounded like tin or aluminum. She tried pulling it out but it wouldn’t budge. Wiggling it back and forth in the rock and mud, it moved a bit. She pulled again, harder this time by turning her body around and bracing her swim fins up against the wall.
With more torque, the object began to move toward her. Slowly, just inches. With about eight inches of the metal thing out of the rock, Laura could grab more of it and she pulled even harder. It began to slide out of the rock more easily. Two feet, then three. Suddenly the far end of the metal thing cleared the rock and it gently floated down to her hands outstretched below it.
Laura was elated. “Whatever this is, it’s been here a while! What a find!” she thought to herself. She tucked it under her left arm with a firm hold and began swimming out of the cave. She couldn’t swim fast enough. Even if she had air left, she didn’t care because her dive was over. This thing had to get to the top so the team could investigate it. She followed the bright yellow rope out to the cave’s opening.
When she’d cleared the cave, Laura grabbed the rope being tended top-side and yanked on it twice.
“She wants us to pull her up!” Josh said excitedly. “Gimme a hand here.”
Katie helped take up the rope as Josh fed it back to her as he tugged and pulled the rope toward him. He could feel Laura on the other end, apparently coming their direction because the rope kept getting more slack in it.
“There’s her bubbles!” exclaimed Katie, pointing out onto the water’s surface about 60 feet away. Each time Laura exhaled, the bubbles raced to the top and the two could see her getting closer fairly quickly.
Laura was ascending nearly straight up now, periodically pushing a button on the dive instrument hose to shoot a little air into her stabilizer jacket, inflating it as she rose. She was anxious to get to the top. When she broke the surface, she took the air regulator out of her mouth and ripped off the mask. She looked back at the shoreline where the cave had been to make a mental note of its location for her next visit.
“I found something!” Laura shouted from about 50 feet away, now moving toward them with strong kicks from her fins while floating on the surface.
Josh and Katie glanced at each other, wondering what it could be. Laura held up the metal container so they could see it as she neared the shoreline.
Josh finished pulling her in the rest of the way as Katie quickly wound up the rope.
Laura slipped off her fins and tossed them on the shore, handed the container to Katie, and accepted Josh’s extended hand to pull her the rest of the way out of the mud.
Laura was breathing heavily, but it was more from excitement than from the quick ascent and swim to the shoreline. She sat down, unhitched the stab jacket, and swung it with the tank still attached away from her, then laid it on the ground.
Laura was excited and smiling. “Grab a towel for me if you would, Josh. And Katie, use another towel to dry that metal thing off please.” She then began telling them about where and how she’d found it, and what a hard time she’d had getting it out of the rock.
They both hurried to help Laura, and in a short time, all three were kneeling in a circle around the metal object giving it a thorough inspection.
Josh tapped it with a pencil. “Doesn’t look like stainless steel or aluminum, Prof,” he offered. “It’s not porous at all.”
Katie nodded and said, “As I was wiping it off, it felt weird, kinda slick. And it’s way shiny. Slick, like glass would be. I think Josh is right. There’s not a scratch on it. The metal is flawless.”
“What kind of metal could it be then?” Josh asked, looking at his professor for an answer.
“I have no idea,” Laura said slowly, deep in thought while she rolled the object gently over in the grass to better inspect it.
The canister, or whatever it was, sounded hollow when they tapped it. Josh had measured it as exactly 36 inches long and 6 inches in diameter. It seemed to be tightly sealed because there were no seams or cracks they could see on it anywhere.
“Let’s call it a day and head back to the motel,” Laura said to them. “I don’t want it to get scratched or anything out here in the open.” The two nodded agreement and began packing their gear back in to the Honda.
As they drove toward Fairview Heights and the Motel 6 they were staying in, Laura checked her cell phone for a signal. Nothing. Since the earthquake, very few calls were getting through in this part of the country. The combined damage done to the cell towers as well as the Iranian Trojan virus launched against the phone company landlines had brought the Midwest’s communications to a crawl. When she’d asked the motel’s desk clerk where she could use her phone, she had been told the only ‘for sure’ way to get calls in and out was by using a cell tower close to Scott Air Force Base just east of Belleville. Military bases had the top priority for reestablishing communications – both data as well as voice, after the disaster.
Laura said, “I’m going to swing east on I-64, guys. I need to use my cell phone to contact the university.”
Katie nodded and replied, “Maybe they’ll have an idea what kind of metal this thing is!” She was looking down at it as it lay across her lap.
Josh turned around from the front seat and said, “We’d probably have to have some kind of sample off it to send, don’t you think, professor?”
Laura nodded, “Probably. But maybe Professor Katz can help us with his best guesses until we get it back to the labs in Champaign.”
They drove on in silence, fully occupied looking at the damaged buildings, downed power lines, and abandoned cars.
End Chapter 1
She tapped it with the dive light. Metal. It made a strange sound, and even under water, it didn’t make a sound like she thought it should have. She tapped on it again with a fingernail. It definitely sounded like tin or aluminum. She tried pulling it out but it wouldn’t budge. Wiggling it back and forth in the rock and mud, it moved a bit. She pulled again, harder this time by turning her body around and bracing her swim fins up against the wall.
With more torque, the object began to move toward her. Slowly, just inches. With about eight inches of the metal thing out of the rock, Laura could grab more of it and she pulled even harder. It began to slide out of the rock more easily. Two feet, then three. Suddenly the far end of the metal thing cleared the rock and it gently floated down to her hands outstretched below it.
Laura was elated. “Whatever this is, it’s been here a while! What a find!” she thought to herself. She tucked it under her left arm with a firm hold and began swimming out of the cave. She couldn’t swim fast enough. Even if she had air left, she didn’t care because her dive was over. This thing had to get to the top so the team could investigate it. She followed the bright yellow rope out to the cave’s opening.
When she’d cleared the cave, Laura grabbed the rope being tended top-side and yanked on it twice.
“She wants us to pull her up!” Josh said excitedly. “Gimme a hand here.”
Katie helped take up the rope as Josh fed it back to her as he tugged and pulled the rope toward him. He could feel Laura on the other end, apparently coming their direction because the rope kept getting more slack in it.
“There’s her bubbles!” exclaimed Katie, pointing out onto the water’s surface about 60 feet away. Each time Laura exhaled, the bubbles raced to the top and the two could see her getting closer fairly quickly.
Laura was ascending nearly straight up now, periodically pushing a button on the dive instrument hose to shoot a little air into her stabilizer jacket, inflating it as she rose. She was anxious to get to the top. When she broke the surface, she took the air regulator out of her mouth and ripped off the mask. She looked back at the shoreline where the cave had been to make a mental note of its location for her next visit.
“I found something!” Laura shouted from about 50 feet away, now moving toward them with strong kicks from her fins while floating on the surface.
Josh and Katie glanced at each other, wondering what it could be. Laura held up the metal container so they could see it as she neared the shoreline.
Josh finished pulling her in the rest of the way as Katie quickly wound up the rope.
Laura slipped off her fins and tossed them on the shore, handed the container to Katie, and accepted Josh’s extended hand to pull her the rest of the way out of the mud.
Laura was breathing heavily, but it was more from excitement than from the quick ascent and swim to the shoreline. She sat down, unhitched the stab jacket, and swung it with the tank still attached away from her, then laid it on the ground.
Laura was excited and smiling. “Grab a towel for me if you would, Josh. And Katie, use another towel to dry that metal thing off please.” She then began telling them about where and how she’d found it, and what a hard time she’d had getting it out of the rock.
They both hurried to help Laura, and in a short time, all three were kneeling in a circle around the metal object giving it a thorough inspection.
Josh tapped it with a pencil. “Doesn’t look like stainless steel or aluminum, Prof,” he offered. “It’s not porous at all.”
Katie nodded and said, “As I was wiping it off, it felt weird, kinda slick. And it’s way shiny. Slick, like glass would be. I think Josh is right. There’s not a scratch on it. The metal is flawless.”
“What kind of metal could it be then?” Josh asked, looking at his professor for an answer.
“I have no idea,” Laura said slowly, deep in thought while she rolled the object gently over in the grass to better inspect it.
The canister, or whatever it was, sounded hollow when they tapped it. Josh had measured it as exactly 36 inches long and 6 inches in diameter. It seemed to be tightly sealed because there were no seams or cracks they could see on it anywhere.
“Let’s call it a day and head back to the motel,” Laura said to them. “I don’t want it to get scratched or anything out here in the open.” The two nodded agreement and began packing their gear back in to the Honda.
As they drove toward Fairview Heights and the Motel 6 they were staying in, Laura checked her cell phone for a signal. Nothing. Since the earthquake, very few calls were getting through in this part of the country. The combined damage done to the cell towers as well as the Iranian Trojan virus launched against the phone company landlines had brought the Midwest’s communications to a crawl. When she’d asked the motel’s desk clerk where she could use her phone, she had been told the only ‘for sure’ way to get calls in and out was by using a cell tower close to Scott Air Force Base just east of Belleville. Military bases had the top priority for reestablishing communications – both data as well as voice, after the disaster.
Laura said, “I’m going to swing east on I-64, guys. I need to use my cell phone to contact the university.”
Katie nodded and replied, “Maybe they’ll have an idea what kind of metal this thing is!” She was looking down at it as it lay across her lap.
Josh turned around from the front seat and said, “We’d probably have to have some kind of sample off it to send, don’t you think, professor?”
Laura nodded, “Probably. But maybe Professor Katz can help us with his best guesses until we get it back to the labs in Champaign.”
They drove on in silence, fully occupied looking at the damaged buildings, downed power lines, and abandoned cars.
End Chapter 1
ShunZu
member
The Cataclysm Scroll - Chapter 2
His dreams last night had been extremely disturbing, and he had begun his trek of about eight miles to his favorite power spot in the woods to attempt a vision quest. It was getting late in the day, and the walk by foot would get him there just before dark. He felt a sense of urgency, and was hurrying as fast as his 75-year old feet would carry him.
Mahkah was a Shaman, gifted with a second sight into other realms that few people could perceive. He had never known his father, but his mother had explained his lineage to him when he was very young, just before she had died. Left alone at age 8, he’d lived in a tribal orphanage in southern New Mexico until he was 14, then adopted by Wakanda, a middle-aged Sioux woman in South Dakota who had been visited repeatedly in dreams by a young Indian who called himself Mahkah. Wakanda’s name itself meant “possesses magical powers”, and she and Mahkah had immediately bonded for reasons neither one understood.
Wakanda’s father had been the tribal Sioux shaman in the later half of the 19th century, descended from a long line of shamans who had passed their knowledge from father-to-son for longer than could be remembered. But Wakanda’s father had only been blessed mid-life with one offspring, a girl. Although it had been against tradition, he had trained his daughter in the shamanic arts during the years he had left on Earth. He had lived until his late 80’s, although nobody had known his age exactly. Wakanda had never married, choosing instead to perfect the art her father had passed to her, working on skills that even today ‘advanced science’ did not understand or acknowledge. Dream control, alternative perception, energy focus, intent of the will, body, mind and spirit balance were just a few of the arts she had devoted her life to understanding and perfecting. And she, in turn, passed the knowledge on to her young apprentice, Mahkah.
Wakanda had continued to live in the small cabin her father had built in the 1800’s, just at the edge of the reservation’s property line. Flanked by open prairie on one side and a pine forest on the other, the rough-hewn log cabin had been a perfect place for Wakanda and her apprentice to delve in to the unknown. Most of the Sioux avoided the two when possible, fearful of their power, talking in whispers about them around campfires.
Of course, rumors abounded at every opportunity that the Sioux woman had adopted a young stud from New Mexico to take care of her sexual needs. But the tribal elders knew better, and squelched the rumors because they understood well enough that those two needn’t be trifled with, and it was necessary upon occasion to call upon their magical gifts.
They had asked the two to help provide them with rain for their crops because of a three-month drought during 1951. Mahkah’s name itself means “Earth”, and indeed it did rain for three days following an energy quest that the two sorcerers had performed for the tribe. It was just one more example the elders used each time the rumors began again that, although their abilities weren’t fully understood, the tribe did not want to get on their bad side.
One night in 1964, Wakanda had come to Mahkah in his dreams, as she had hundreds of times before. Wakanda had always preferred to teach her young apprentice while in the dream state, because the conscious mind did not get in the way with its constant internal dialogue and selfish hindrances found during waking hours. She had told the young shaman that she would be speaking to him from this level of perception from now on, in the spirit form, choosing to leave her physical body and simply not return.
Mahkah had immediately awakened and hurried to her bedside, checking her pulse and looking for signs of life. None. Wakanda had truly chosen to step to the next plane of existence, and although Mahkah understood the next levels to some extent, he grieved for many weeks following her passing.
Exactly seven weeks from the date of her passing, however, Wakanda visited him in a lucid dream while he was meditating on the power spot in the woods she had shown him years before. She insisted he stop grieving her moving on to the next level, because she could better coach him from there rather than on the physical plane.
She then instructed Mahkah to dedicate himself to better control his dreams using techniques she had shown him. She assured him that as he achieved more ability to control and remember his dreams, which was just one more level of reality simply in a different state of consciousness, he would remember her training and communications.
As the years had passed, Mahkah had fine-tuned his shamanic abilities that he’d learned from Wakanda. He was now in his 70’s, and she still visited him upon occasion in dreams, but more as social visits rather than training. For the last 20 years, there had been very little Wakanda could teach the very adept shaman.
These last three nights, Wakanda had insisted that something was happening that needed his immediate attention. He was frustrated that he had not been able to fully understand her message or retain exactly all she had said in the dreams. He’d decided to go to his power spot in the woods for a vision quest.
He had with him the tools of the trade, two quartz crystals Wakanda had given him on his 16th birthday, each about three inches long and one inch thick. Carried in a leather pouch he had made with her instruction, and hung from his belt for all of his adult life, he would hold them in his palms while seated on the power spot.
As light in the sky began to fade, Mahkah was reminded of his training throughout the 60 years before. One of his earliest lessons was that both dusk and dawn were the cracks between the worlds, darkness being as distant from daylight, as being awake is from a sleeping state. It was during this time that an occasional journey to those different levels of reality and heightened perception was easiest to achieve.
Mahkah reached the power spot, what had been explained to him as a small area about ten feet square where positive-charged energies from the Earth were particularly strong. A sensitive person could feel these energies, would actually sense the vibration. A person less sensitive would only be able to recognize this spot as giving them a good feeling, of feeling happy and glad to be alive. But of course, modern science did not recognize the existence of such a place.
Psychics, shamans and sensitives would strongly disagree with modern science, as they always had through the ages. Wakanda had explained to Mahkah that modern science’s understanding always lagged behind for some reason. When she’d explained to him that ‘magic’ from a simple plastic cigarette lighter would have gotten its owner burnt at the stake in the 1600s as being an instrument from the devil, he’d understood.
As dark overtook daylight, Mahkah settled down in a lotus position on his power spot atop a wide, flat rock that had been placed there by someone ages ago. With crystals in each hand, he closed his eyes, looked up, began his long-practiced breathing exercise, and started slipping in to a heightened state of perception in order to talk with Wakanda about her recent visits to him in dreams.
End Chapter 2
-2-
His dreams last night had been extremely disturbing, and he had begun his trek of about eight miles to his favorite power spot in the woods to attempt a vision quest. It was getting late in the day, and the walk by foot would get him there just before dark. He felt a sense of urgency, and was hurrying as fast as his 75-year old feet would carry him.
Mahkah was a Shaman, gifted with a second sight into other realms that few people could perceive. He had never known his father, but his mother had explained his lineage to him when he was very young, just before she had died. Left alone at age 8, he’d lived in a tribal orphanage in southern New Mexico until he was 14, then adopted by Wakanda, a middle-aged Sioux woman in South Dakota who had been visited repeatedly in dreams by a young Indian who called himself Mahkah. Wakanda’s name itself meant “possesses magical powers”, and she and Mahkah had immediately bonded for reasons neither one understood.
Wakanda’s father had been the tribal Sioux shaman in the later half of the 19th century, descended from a long line of shamans who had passed their knowledge from father-to-son for longer than could be remembered. But Wakanda’s father had only been blessed mid-life with one offspring, a girl. Although it had been against tradition, he had trained his daughter in the shamanic arts during the years he had left on Earth. He had lived until his late 80’s, although nobody had known his age exactly. Wakanda had never married, choosing instead to perfect the art her father had passed to her, working on skills that even today ‘advanced science’ did not understand or acknowledge. Dream control, alternative perception, energy focus, intent of the will, body, mind and spirit balance were just a few of the arts she had devoted her life to understanding and perfecting. And she, in turn, passed the knowledge on to her young apprentice, Mahkah.
Wakanda had continued to live in the small cabin her father had built in the 1800’s, just at the edge of the reservation’s property line. Flanked by open prairie on one side and a pine forest on the other, the rough-hewn log cabin had been a perfect place for Wakanda and her apprentice to delve in to the unknown. Most of the Sioux avoided the two when possible, fearful of their power, talking in whispers about them around campfires.
Of course, rumors abounded at every opportunity that the Sioux woman had adopted a young stud from New Mexico to take care of her sexual needs. But the tribal elders knew better, and squelched the rumors because they understood well enough that those two needn’t be trifled with, and it was necessary upon occasion to call upon their magical gifts.
They had asked the two to help provide them with rain for their crops because of a three-month drought during 1951. Mahkah’s name itself means “Earth”, and indeed it did rain for three days following an energy quest that the two sorcerers had performed for the tribe. It was just one more example the elders used each time the rumors began again that, although their abilities weren’t fully understood, the tribe did not want to get on their bad side.
One night in 1964, Wakanda had come to Mahkah in his dreams, as she had hundreds of times before. Wakanda had always preferred to teach her young apprentice while in the dream state, because the conscious mind did not get in the way with its constant internal dialogue and selfish hindrances found during waking hours. She had told the young shaman that she would be speaking to him from this level of perception from now on, in the spirit form, choosing to leave her physical body and simply not return.
Mahkah had immediately awakened and hurried to her bedside, checking her pulse and looking for signs of life. None. Wakanda had truly chosen to step to the next plane of existence, and although Mahkah understood the next levels to some extent, he grieved for many weeks following her passing.
Exactly seven weeks from the date of her passing, however, Wakanda visited him in a lucid dream while he was meditating on the power spot in the woods she had shown him years before. She insisted he stop grieving her moving on to the next level, because she could better coach him from there rather than on the physical plane.
She then instructed Mahkah to dedicate himself to better control his dreams using techniques she had shown him. She assured him that as he achieved more ability to control and remember his dreams, which was just one more level of reality simply in a different state of consciousness, he would remember her training and communications.
As the years had passed, Mahkah had fine-tuned his shamanic abilities that he’d learned from Wakanda. He was now in his 70’s, and she still visited him upon occasion in dreams, but more as social visits rather than training. For the last 20 years, there had been very little Wakanda could teach the very adept shaman.
These last three nights, Wakanda had insisted that something was happening that needed his immediate attention. He was frustrated that he had not been able to fully understand her message or retain exactly all she had said in the dreams. He’d decided to go to his power spot in the woods for a vision quest.
He had with him the tools of the trade, two quartz crystals Wakanda had given him on his 16th birthday, each about three inches long and one inch thick. Carried in a leather pouch he had made with her instruction, and hung from his belt for all of his adult life, he would hold them in his palms while seated on the power spot.
As light in the sky began to fade, Mahkah was reminded of his training throughout the 60 years before. One of his earliest lessons was that both dusk and dawn were the cracks between the worlds, darkness being as distant from daylight, as being awake is from a sleeping state. It was during this time that an occasional journey to those different levels of reality and heightened perception was easiest to achieve.
Mahkah reached the power spot, what had been explained to him as a small area about ten feet square where positive-charged energies from the Earth were particularly strong. A sensitive person could feel these energies, would actually sense the vibration. A person less sensitive would only be able to recognize this spot as giving them a good feeling, of feeling happy and glad to be alive. But of course, modern science did not recognize the existence of such a place.
Psychics, shamans and sensitives would strongly disagree with modern science, as they always had through the ages. Wakanda had explained to Mahkah that modern science’s understanding always lagged behind for some reason. When she’d explained to him that ‘magic’ from a simple plastic cigarette lighter would have gotten its owner burnt at the stake in the 1600s as being an instrument from the devil, he’d understood.
As dark overtook daylight, Mahkah settled down in a lotus position on his power spot atop a wide, flat rock that had been placed there by someone ages ago. With crystals in each hand, he closed his eyes, looked up, began his long-practiced breathing exercise, and started slipping in to a heightened state of perception in order to talk with Wakanda about her recent visits to him in dreams.
End Chapter 2
ShunZu
member
The Cataclysm Scroll - Chapter 3
Laura had signal on her cell phone for the first time in days. It was late afternoon and her students were waiting in the Honda with the strange metal object. She excitedly dialed Professor Katz’s mobile number and said a silent prayer he would answer.
“Katz here.”
Laura was elated. “Professor, this is Laura. I’m so happy you answered! I’ve found something I think you’re going to find very interesting!”
“Hello Laura,” Katz said, amused at the enthusiasm in her voice. “What’d you find? Where?”
Laura talked fast, “In the old mushroom caves now under water on the east bank of Lake Mississippi. It’s some kind of metallic tube, about a yard long and six inches across. It looks like stainless steel or aluminum, but we don’t think its either one. It has a small oblong circle about the size of a thumb print etched in the middle of the cylinder, but that’s the only markings we can find on it.”
“Metal?” the professor asked. He was definitely interested. “Floating?”
Laura tried to explain the object as best she could, but she felt like she wasn’t conveying its mystery well enough. “No, it wasn’t floating. It was lodged in the rock near the top of one of the caves I was diving in. I had to really pull and wiggle it to get it out of the rock. And I don’t know how to say this without sounding crazy, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as smooth or unique as this thing. It has absolutely no scratches on it, even though I pulled it out of solid rock and should have scratched it somewhere in the process.”
Katz was definitely intrigued. He knew Laura well enough to know she wasn’t an alarmist and approached things in a logical, professional manner.
“Smooth, no scratches, huh?” he said. “Any idea how it got buried in rock? Those are limestone caves, right?”
“Limestone, yes. And it was a perfect cylindrical hole the metal object was stuck in. As if the hole was made specifically to hold it.” With those words, Laura realized something she hadn’t considered before.
She went on, now even more excited. “I wonder if someone drilled a hole in the rock a long time ago to hide it? And the flooding water in the cave washed away its rock covering?” The possibility was creating butterflies in her stomach.
“Are there any openings or hinges on it? Is it possible there’s something inside it?” Katz asked. He had also begun wondering about its source, how it had found its way in to the cave and become embedded in rock.
“No hinges, no sir,” Laura answered. “No sign anywhere on it that it’s actually got anything inside it. But it does sound hollow.”
Katz said, “Bring it back, Laura. Immediately, first thing in the morning, please. Fold up your operation there and head to Champaign. I’ll meet you in my lab tomorrow morning at 11AM. I definitely want to see this thing.”
Laura was so excited she could hardly contain her emotions. Excitement at finding the object, intrigued at its origin and the possibilities of how it had ended up in the rock in the cave. Added to that, enthusiasm in the voice of the head professor at the university who was going to take time out of his busy day to inspect her find, made her feel like she would burst at the seams.
“I’ll be there at 11, sir. Thanks very much!” She was already wishing it were the next day.
Professor Katz found Laura’s excitement contagious. “I’m looking forward to seeing just what you’ve discovered. See you tomorrow. Be careful.” He closed the cell phone, nearly as excited as Laura in the prospects of what she was bringing to the lab the next day.
Katz immediately called one of Laura’s peer associate professors, Kirk Perry, to let him know that Laura had found something of interest in the caves. After hearing about her find, Perry was also very interested and wanted to know more about it. He agreed to be at the lab at 11 in the morning. Following the call with Katz, Perry made a phone call himself to pass on the description of what he had been told about the metal object to someone else far away.
Laura hurried back to her Honda, almost running. “Professor Katz says we’re to head back first thing tomorrow morning, guys. Let’s grab something to eat, take it back to the motel and start packing up the gear for the return trip. I want to get out as early in the morning as we can.”
Katie and Josh were also very happy that Katz had enough interest in what they’d found. They were also caught up in the excitement that Laura was exhibiting, having never seen their teacher so emotional. They all started speculating on what the next day would bring, when the object was inspected by a seasoned archaeologist that knew many things about artifacts and science.
-3-
Laura had signal on her cell phone for the first time in days. It was late afternoon and her students were waiting in the Honda with the strange metal object. She excitedly dialed Professor Katz’s mobile number and said a silent prayer he would answer.
“Katz here.”
Laura was elated. “Professor, this is Laura. I’m so happy you answered! I’ve found something I think you’re going to find very interesting!”
“Hello Laura,” Katz said, amused at the enthusiasm in her voice. “What’d you find? Where?”
Laura talked fast, “In the old mushroom caves now under water on the east bank of Lake Mississippi. It’s some kind of metallic tube, about a yard long and six inches across. It looks like stainless steel or aluminum, but we don’t think its either one. It has a small oblong circle about the size of a thumb print etched in the middle of the cylinder, but that’s the only markings we can find on it.”
“Metal?” the professor asked. He was definitely interested. “Floating?”
Laura tried to explain the object as best she could, but she felt like she wasn’t conveying its mystery well enough. “No, it wasn’t floating. It was lodged in the rock near the top of one of the caves I was diving in. I had to really pull and wiggle it to get it out of the rock. And I don’t know how to say this without sounding crazy, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as smooth or unique as this thing. It has absolutely no scratches on it, even though I pulled it out of solid rock and should have scratched it somewhere in the process.”
Katz was definitely intrigued. He knew Laura well enough to know she wasn’t an alarmist and approached things in a logical, professional manner.
“Smooth, no scratches, huh?” he said. “Any idea how it got buried in rock? Those are limestone caves, right?”
“Limestone, yes. And it was a perfect cylindrical hole the metal object was stuck in. As if the hole was made specifically to hold it.” With those words, Laura realized something she hadn’t considered before.
She went on, now even more excited. “I wonder if someone drilled a hole in the rock a long time ago to hide it? And the flooding water in the cave washed away its rock covering?” The possibility was creating butterflies in her stomach.
“Are there any openings or hinges on it? Is it possible there’s something inside it?” Katz asked. He had also begun wondering about its source, how it had found its way in to the cave and become embedded in rock.
“No hinges, no sir,” Laura answered. “No sign anywhere on it that it’s actually got anything inside it. But it does sound hollow.”
Katz said, “Bring it back, Laura. Immediately, first thing in the morning, please. Fold up your operation there and head to Champaign. I’ll meet you in my lab tomorrow morning at 11AM. I definitely want to see this thing.”
Laura was so excited she could hardly contain her emotions. Excitement at finding the object, intrigued at its origin and the possibilities of how it had ended up in the rock in the cave. Added to that, enthusiasm in the voice of the head professor at the university who was going to take time out of his busy day to inspect her find, made her feel like she would burst at the seams.
“I’ll be there at 11, sir. Thanks very much!” She was already wishing it were the next day.
Professor Katz found Laura’s excitement contagious. “I’m looking forward to seeing just what you’ve discovered. See you tomorrow. Be careful.” He closed the cell phone, nearly as excited as Laura in the prospects of what she was bringing to the lab the next day.
Katz immediately called one of Laura’s peer associate professors, Kirk Perry, to let him know that Laura had found something of interest in the caves. After hearing about her find, Perry was also very interested and wanted to know more about it. He agreed to be at the lab at 11 in the morning. Following the call with Katz, Perry made a phone call himself to pass on the description of what he had been told about the metal object to someone else far away.
Laura hurried back to her Honda, almost running. “Professor Katz says we’re to head back first thing tomorrow morning, guys. Let’s grab something to eat, take it back to the motel and start packing up the gear for the return trip. I want to get out as early in the morning as we can.”
Katie and Josh were also very happy that Katz had enough interest in what they’d found. They were also caught up in the excitement that Laura was exhibiting, having never seen their teacher so emotional. They all started speculating on what the next day would bring, when the object was inspected by a seasoned archaeologist that knew many things about artifacts and science.
ShunZu
member
Chapter 3 continued
They topped off the gas tank at the first station in Fairview Heights they came to, a QT that had a limit of twenty dollars per customer with gas priced four times higher than other locations that were a distance from the earthquake zone. Laura had learned the last week to fill the tank as often as possible, since all stations had limits set because of the supply problems following the quake. They’d seen several stations with signs that said, “Out of Gas”, and there were no guarantees of future supply. They grabbed some McDonalds meals for a fast dinner and returned to the motel. The hum of generators running to provide power for those restaurants that were open was normal.
Laura carried the metal object in to her room while the students went to their rooms and began packing. The sun had set and her room was dark. She flipped on the light switch, nothing. Still no electricity. She groped around in her purse for a book of matches and lit two candles on the small desk. She carefully laid the metal object on it, set her meal down, and then took a seat in front of the desk to study the object in more detail.
“What’s your story?” she said aloud to the object. “Where’d you come from and who put you there?”
She ate her burger and fries while continuing to study the object. For recollection purposes, she made detailed notes in her folio about how she’d found it, the conditions in the cave, and observations thus far such as no scratches on the object, strangeness of the metal itself, and other items that might be useful when discussing it with Dr. Katz.
She found the small oblong circle very curious that was etched in its center, and studied it more closely. Holding one candle right on top of it just a few inches away, she tried sizing the circle with her thumb by pressing down on it.
Something clicked inside the object.
He felt the familiar floating sensation that most often accompanied being in this state of awareness. It had been explained to him many years ago that it was when one’s spirit is reaching a higher vibratory plane, speeding up its frequency, the spirit often floats slightly out of the body. “Normal” people, he understood, would sometimes experience this sensation when going to sleep, as the body drifted into slumber. The body jerks and the person suddenly wakes up, not understanding the reaction. It was invariably the conscious mind’s realization it was losing control, of relinquishing its mandatory mental noise to the subconscious. And, rather than give up that control, it would jerk the subject’s body to wake them up so it could continue its mission of absolute control.
This was the crack between the worlds Wakanda had talked about for so many years, and had taught him how to circumvent the traps of self-importance, ego and greed that the conscious mind constantly inundated the owner with to ensure its continued existence. By giving more energy and attention to the subconscious mind through meditation, and regularly shutting off the mental noise and internal conversation, the spirit thrived and would respond by giving the owner glimpses into realizations and revelations that the everyday person was not granted.
Wakanda had laughed many times when Mahkah, as a youngster, would respond with questions such as, “But why doesn’t everyone have this ability?”
While embracing his innocence, she would smile and answer, “Because very few people are willing to dedicate energy and the time necessary to allow their spirit to move towards enlightenment. They are too tangled up in the pursuit of everyday ordinariness, of spending energy trying to make more money, of making themselves more beautiful, of wallowing in their egos and issues of self-importance.”
They topped off the gas tank at the first station in Fairview Heights they came to, a QT that had a limit of twenty dollars per customer with gas priced four times higher than other locations that were a distance from the earthquake zone. Laura had learned the last week to fill the tank as often as possible, since all stations had limits set because of the supply problems following the quake. They’d seen several stations with signs that said, “Out of Gas”, and there were no guarantees of future supply. They grabbed some McDonalds meals for a fast dinner and returned to the motel. The hum of generators running to provide power for those restaurants that were open was normal.
Laura carried the metal object in to her room while the students went to their rooms and began packing. The sun had set and her room was dark. She flipped on the light switch, nothing. Still no electricity. She groped around in her purse for a book of matches and lit two candles on the small desk. She carefully laid the metal object on it, set her meal down, and then took a seat in front of the desk to study the object in more detail.
“What’s your story?” she said aloud to the object. “Where’d you come from and who put you there?”
She ate her burger and fries while continuing to study the object. For recollection purposes, she made detailed notes in her folio about how she’d found it, the conditions in the cave, and observations thus far such as no scratches on the object, strangeness of the metal itself, and other items that might be useful when discussing it with Dr. Katz.
She found the small oblong circle very curious that was etched in its center, and studied it more closely. Holding one candle right on top of it just a few inches away, she tried sizing the circle with her thumb by pressing down on it.
Something clicked inside the object.
* * * * *
Mahkah had reached a deep meditative state, a level that Wakanda had called “stopping the mental noise”, where the conscious mind is essentially turned off. With many years of practice, Mahkah had found that this heightened state of awareness allowed messages from the subconscious mind to come forward, as well as providing the avenue for communication with other forms of energy. The Akashik record could also be found in this subconscious state, which is what Edgar Cayce, as well as many other psychics and shamans through the years, had tapped in order to answer questions which science would insist were unknowable. It was in this state of awareness he could more easily converse with Wakanda.He felt the familiar floating sensation that most often accompanied being in this state of awareness. It had been explained to him many years ago that it was when one’s spirit is reaching a higher vibratory plane, speeding up its frequency, the spirit often floats slightly out of the body. “Normal” people, he understood, would sometimes experience this sensation when going to sleep, as the body drifted into slumber. The body jerks and the person suddenly wakes up, not understanding the reaction. It was invariably the conscious mind’s realization it was losing control, of relinquishing its mandatory mental noise to the subconscious. And, rather than give up that control, it would jerk the subject’s body to wake them up so it could continue its mission of absolute control.
This was the crack between the worlds Wakanda had talked about for so many years, and had taught him how to circumvent the traps of self-importance, ego and greed that the conscious mind constantly inundated the owner with to ensure its continued existence. By giving more energy and attention to the subconscious mind through meditation, and regularly shutting off the mental noise and internal conversation, the spirit thrived and would respond by giving the owner glimpses into realizations and revelations that the everyday person was not granted.
Wakanda had laughed many times when Mahkah, as a youngster, would respond with questions such as, “But why doesn’t everyone have this ability?”
While embracing his innocence, she would smile and answer, “Because very few people are willing to dedicate energy and the time necessary to allow their spirit to move towards enlightenment. They are too tangled up in the pursuit of everyday ordinariness, of spending energy trying to make more money, of making themselves more beautiful, of wallowing in their egos and issues of self-importance.”
ShunZu
member
Chapter 3 continued
As he grew up, Mahkah would often ask the same questions, wording them differently each time, as if to wrestle a different answer from his mentor. “But this is a gift that everyone has, of being able to get to the spirit with very little effort!”
And Wakanda’s answer had always been invariably the same, often worded just a little differently, “It’s easier for them to ignore these facts because their conscious minds do not want to accept the possibility there is something bigger out there than themselves. Science shares the same ego problem and suffers from the same delusions.” Wakanda would just laugh while Mahkah would shake his head in disbelief.
Tonight his mentor appeared to him this time as a small circle of bluish-white light, about 18 inches across. She didn’t always come to him in this form. Sometimes it would simply be a detached voice with no form at all, or a mushroom, a bird, a rock, a leaf or any other object that suited her at the time.
The bluish-white light seemed to vibrate and pulse as Mahkah’s heightened state of awareness allowed him to see his mentor’s energy. He didn’t ‘hear’ words as much as he sensed them. But on this power spot, he was able to perceive Wakanda’s messages very clearly.
She said to him, “Mother Earth is unhappy, Mahkah. Something has happened that needs your intervention immediately.” The light dimmed slightly, as if pausing to wait for him to respond.
“Is this what I have been having dreams and visions about the last week?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered quickly, the light growing stronger again. “As you know, there are spirits and energies much more advanced, and on much higher planes of existence than us. Many are difficult for me to understand, even on the level I am on now. They are alien in nature, something that would cause the average person to go insane if they contacted them directly.” The light dimmed again.
Mahkah was trying to understand. He asked, “Through the years, I have had visions of nightmarish creatures when in deep mental states. Are these what you mean?”
“Sometimes, but not always,” Wakanda replied. “The spirits of which I speak are in planes many vibratory levels above, and barriers exist as partitions to keep us where we need to be, so to speak. These levels exist out of necessity. But they have approached me to act as an agent in communicating their wishes to you.”
Mahkah asked, “But why did they not come directly to me?”
The light increased with intensity once more. “Because even an adept shaman such as yourself would have difficulty in understanding their message, and their source of energy. I can barely grasp it myself. As I said, their energy is alien in nature and so foreign to humankind it could drive you mad.”
Mahkah was very curious. “Are they from other levels of existence?”
Wakanda paused before answering, “You already know of the lower vibratory spirits, you’ve bumped in to them during your shamanic rituals and mental exercises. Even normal people occasionally experience them in dreams, especially if they are evil people. They attract negative entities to them with their bad thoughts and deeds. Entities of the lower levels are truly terrifying and very negative in nature. Scary is an understatement, as you already know from a life of questing in this realm. But these are not the entities of which I speak now. Those with a message for you are from a much higher plane and very positive. Their energy is so intense it dwarfs yours and mine. But to answer your question, yes, you could say they are not from Earth. Whether they are from other planets, or to identify their source of origin for you, I can only speculate.”
Mahkah understood some of what she was saying but wanted to know more about the higher level entities. “Please explain in more detail if you can,” he asked. “What do they look like?”
“That is enough for now,” she said firmly. “You understand enough about the source of those placing this challenge in your path, so listen closely. The well-being of the Earth, according to them, hangs in the balance.”
Mahkah just nodded, agreeing with her because he apparently had no choice.
Wakanda continued, “First, for purposes of our discussions, let me name these higher level entities. They call themselves Annanunki so that is the name we will lump them into when you and I are talking. The Annanunki are very insistent and anxious that something that belongs to them has been removed from the Earth. They want it returned to its resting place.
Mahkah asked, “What is it? How can I help? And, why did they choose me for this?”
Wakanda paused again, her light growing dimmer momentarily. Then, it increased in intensity once more as she answered, “I am in touch with them right now, at this moment. So please forgive me if answers are not forthcoming or seem vague. It is by their choice, not mine. The answer from them was simply, ‘Because of the manner in which you and I can still communicate, and because you have the ability to move in your dreams and control them to a great extent. They consider you a dream master. You must explain some of this to those who have disturbed the Annanunki’s possession.”
Wakanda went on for the next few minutes, being careful to relay the Annanunki message to the best of her ability. Mahkah listened without interruption.
Before she concluded her visit with Mahkah, she said, “Remember everything we have discussed here tonight. You will be serving as a conveyer of this message to another person very soon. It is important you retain all of this information.”
As she finished, Mahkah perceived her light fading, and he intentionally began breathing deeper, slowly wiggling his toes and fingers to return awareness to his physical body. It had been an intense energy drain. It was late at night, judging by the position of the moon as he slowly opened his eyes and looked up at it.
“What a fantastic challenge they have put before me,” he thought to himself. He got up and began the walk back to his cabin. He decided to stop at a creek on the way and jump in. Splashing water on his face and hair to help center himself and more fully return to consciousness always worked wonders following a deep meditative state.
He ate a small can of diced pineapple and a banana when he returned to the cabin. While enjoying a glass of water, he considered what steps needed to be taken, and chose to comply with Wakanda’s request. He walked into his bedroom, climbed onto the same cot he had slept in, meditated in, and worked on dream control since he had begun the shaman path with Wakanda 60 years ago, and closed his eyes to begin.
End Chapter 3
As he grew up, Mahkah would often ask the same questions, wording them differently each time, as if to wrestle a different answer from his mentor. “But this is a gift that everyone has, of being able to get to the spirit with very little effort!”
And Wakanda’s answer had always been invariably the same, often worded just a little differently, “It’s easier for them to ignore these facts because their conscious minds do not want to accept the possibility there is something bigger out there than themselves. Science shares the same ego problem and suffers from the same delusions.” Wakanda would just laugh while Mahkah would shake his head in disbelief.
Tonight his mentor appeared to him this time as a small circle of bluish-white light, about 18 inches across. She didn’t always come to him in this form. Sometimes it would simply be a detached voice with no form at all, or a mushroom, a bird, a rock, a leaf or any other object that suited her at the time.
The bluish-white light seemed to vibrate and pulse as Mahkah’s heightened state of awareness allowed him to see his mentor’s energy. He didn’t ‘hear’ words as much as he sensed them. But on this power spot, he was able to perceive Wakanda’s messages very clearly.
She said to him, “Mother Earth is unhappy, Mahkah. Something has happened that needs your intervention immediately.” The light dimmed slightly, as if pausing to wait for him to respond.
“Is this what I have been having dreams and visions about the last week?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered quickly, the light growing stronger again. “As you know, there are spirits and energies much more advanced, and on much higher planes of existence than us. Many are difficult for me to understand, even on the level I am on now. They are alien in nature, something that would cause the average person to go insane if they contacted them directly.” The light dimmed again.
Mahkah was trying to understand. He asked, “Through the years, I have had visions of nightmarish creatures when in deep mental states. Are these what you mean?”
“Sometimes, but not always,” Wakanda replied. “The spirits of which I speak are in planes many vibratory levels above, and barriers exist as partitions to keep us where we need to be, so to speak. These levels exist out of necessity. But they have approached me to act as an agent in communicating their wishes to you.”
Mahkah asked, “But why did they not come directly to me?”
The light increased with intensity once more. “Because even an adept shaman such as yourself would have difficulty in understanding their message, and their source of energy. I can barely grasp it myself. As I said, their energy is alien in nature and so foreign to humankind it could drive you mad.”
Mahkah was very curious. “Are they from other levels of existence?”
Wakanda paused before answering, “You already know of the lower vibratory spirits, you’ve bumped in to them during your shamanic rituals and mental exercises. Even normal people occasionally experience them in dreams, especially if they are evil people. They attract negative entities to them with their bad thoughts and deeds. Entities of the lower levels are truly terrifying and very negative in nature. Scary is an understatement, as you already know from a life of questing in this realm. But these are not the entities of which I speak now. Those with a message for you are from a much higher plane and very positive. Their energy is so intense it dwarfs yours and mine. But to answer your question, yes, you could say they are not from Earth. Whether they are from other planets, or to identify their source of origin for you, I can only speculate.”
Mahkah understood some of what she was saying but wanted to know more about the higher level entities. “Please explain in more detail if you can,” he asked. “What do they look like?”
“That is enough for now,” she said firmly. “You understand enough about the source of those placing this challenge in your path, so listen closely. The well-being of the Earth, according to them, hangs in the balance.”
Mahkah just nodded, agreeing with her because he apparently had no choice.
Wakanda continued, “First, for purposes of our discussions, let me name these higher level entities. They call themselves Annanunki so that is the name we will lump them into when you and I are talking. The Annanunki are very insistent and anxious that something that belongs to them has been removed from the Earth. They want it returned to its resting place.
Mahkah asked, “What is it? How can I help? And, why did they choose me for this?”
Wakanda paused again, her light growing dimmer momentarily. Then, it increased in intensity once more as she answered, “I am in touch with them right now, at this moment. So please forgive me if answers are not forthcoming or seem vague. It is by their choice, not mine. The answer from them was simply, ‘Because of the manner in which you and I can still communicate, and because you have the ability to move in your dreams and control them to a great extent. They consider you a dream master. You must explain some of this to those who have disturbed the Annanunki’s possession.”
Wakanda went on for the next few minutes, being careful to relay the Annanunki message to the best of her ability. Mahkah listened without interruption.
Before she concluded her visit with Mahkah, she said, “Remember everything we have discussed here tonight. You will be serving as a conveyer of this message to another person very soon. It is important you retain all of this information.”
As she finished, Mahkah perceived her light fading, and he intentionally began breathing deeper, slowly wiggling his toes and fingers to return awareness to his physical body. It had been an intense energy drain. It was late at night, judging by the position of the moon as he slowly opened his eyes and looked up at it.
“What a fantastic challenge they have put before me,” he thought to himself. He got up and began the walk back to his cabin. He decided to stop at a creek on the way and jump in. Splashing water on his face and hair to help center himself and more fully return to consciousness always worked wonders following a deep meditative state.
He ate a small can of diced pineapple and a banana when he returned to the cabin. While enjoying a glass of water, he considered what steps needed to be taken, and chose to comply with Wakanda’s request. He walked into his bedroom, climbed onto the same cot he had slept in, meditated in, and worked on dream control since he had begun the shaman path with Wakanda 60 years ago, and closed his eyes to begin.
End Chapter 3
ShunZu
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The Cataclysm Scroll - Chapter 4
Laura had been elated when the cylindrical object responded to her touch two hours before. Seams had suddenly appeared on the surface of the object, along each end, running the length of the cylinder between the two lines. When they connected, a different sound, a hum lower in tone, emanated from the object. As if run on gears, although upon inspection she could find none, it opened up revealing something inside the cylinder itself. She took it out.
It looked like a large roll of aluminum foil that had been removed from its box. Silver and shiny, but slightly heavier in weight.
She’d laid it out on the desk, only illuminated by the candles in her room. It had a seam. She tugged slightly at the seam and within two seconds, the roll had quickly uncoiled itself automatically – going perfectly flat without emitting a sound at all. She had been amazed there were no crinkles, no wrinkling of whatever material it was made from. It was a perfectly flat silver-chrome board, about the size of a large cookie sheet, 3 feet wide and 2 feet tall.
There was writing on it in some form of language she was not familiar with. Emblems of some sort, all different, inside 8 boxes that looked etched, rather than painted, in the strange metal. The emblems, or icons, were each different from the one before. They were beautiful, using hues and combinations of all the colors of a rainbow, each being distinctly different, but similar in shape. The icons were laid out two rows of four boxes in each row, separated by a glimmering pearl colored divider that partitioned out each box from its neighbor.
The writing, or glyphs, was above each icon. She couldn’t recall seeing writing of this type in any of her archaeology studies, and she told herself that Professor Katz would be the one most likely to be able to interpret them.
She had been studying the metal scroll for over two hours, making notes and doing her best to draw each one in her notebook. She looked at the clock radio on the nightstand, just to be reminded there was still no power. She knew it had to be getting late, and was hoping her students were in bed.
Earlier, Laura had considered knocking on their doors to let them know she’d been successful in opening the metal tube, but she’d decided that they could see it in the morning. She preferred the quiet solitude to study the object in more detail.
Laura was dead tired from the cave dive and the day’s excitement. With pen still in hand, her eyes heavy, her head began to droop. She dozed off with her head resting on the desk.
Mahkah’s body and conscious mind were asleep, but his subconscious mind and his spirit, or what he referred to as his dreaming body, were already hard at work. He had begun going to sleep as he had thousands of times before, being aware of the body slipping to the edge of consciousness. But where most people lost track of the transition between sleep and awake, Mahkah was a master at maintaining control. He knew it was important to imagine and visualize a cave he had been shown in a dream when very young, in his teens. It had happened quite by accident, or at least he thought it was.
One night while sleeping in the cot Wakanda had given him after adoption, with his head facing due north as she had demanded, Mahkah had a dream that would alter his life forever.
He had found himself deep within a cave inhabited by four mushrooms, each roughly about the size of a small man, all perched on beautifully finished tree stumps. The cave had been completely dark, except for lighting that had appeared as spotlights over each mushroom figure. He had never been quite sure if it was a light from above over each one, or if it was their distinct glow of energy that each had given off from their peaks. From his perception’s point-of-view, it was as if they had very tall auras, illuminating their entire form.
One mushroom was noticeably larger than the other three, its body about four feet tall with a very short stem. And while all the mushrooms had appeared as a type of morel, beige in color with off-white stems, the larger one was more pointed and had a blue-white glow around it. Its geometry had been perfect. Not an imperfection visible in its morel pattern that looked like brain tissue. Although there had been absolutely no words or other communication from the mushrooms, the larger one had somehow relayed a message that it was okay for him to physically touch it. He determined it was the leader, more powerful in energy than the other three.
Mahkah had reached out and felt the perfectly formed mushroom. Its energy was tangible. His dreaming body could actually feel an electric-like mild current as he caressed the top, cone and sides of the mushroom. He knew then it was not a mushroom, but a spirit from another level within his dream state. Then he could see energetically-charged white lines between his hands and the mushroom, as he pulled outward on the soft flesh. The spirit allowed him to do this, as if to send a message that it didn’t hurt, that this was exactly what he should be doing – to see the energy flow between all living things.
The other mushrooms had remained motionless during the entire scene. He sensed nothing from them, as if the only one meant to be communicating with him was the largest of the four.
Then he sensed that the mushroom he was touching said something to him, although it wasn’t verbalized. The words just appeared, as if from nowhere, inside his head.
The mushroom said, “This is your cave, your starting point when you want to journey in spirit during dreams. Visualize this cave as you go to sleep and desire your dreaming body to be active.”
The young Mahkah had thought, “I wonder if this is a spirit or if this is just a dream that seems real?”
As if it had read his thoughts, the mushroom replied, “Dreams are very real. Even normal people have dreams that seem more real than everyday life at the time they are having them. But a few minutes of consciousness when they wake up, simply the time used to brush their teeth, fades the dream in to vapors and memories so distant they rarely can recall them.”
Mahkah had nodded and asked, “What is your name? Should I expect you to be here each time when I’m dreaming?”
The answer rolled through his head as the mushroom replied, “My name is Miranda. I am one of your spirit guides on these levels. As you become more adept developing your dream body control, you may see others like me, but in different forms. And I will be here at times, yes.”
“Are you a woman?” Mahkah asked, puzzled that the voice had no male or female tone to it. It was just a voice in his head.
“Think of me however you prefer. I have no body of course, so therefore no gender. I have not inhabited a physical body for ages. I have been told it is no longer necessary.”
Mahkah’s mind was racing, full of so many questions he couldn’t figure out which ones to ask first. “How do I get here again?” was the most important question in his mind.
“Simply visualize this cave, all four mushrooms exactly as they are now. Remember this moment, frame it in your mind like a picture. Memorize every single detail. The log stumps we are sitting on, the light around us, the complete void of sound when in this cave. Then, when you are falling asleep, visualize it exactly as you have remembered it.”
Mahkah had nodded, then asked, “Wakanda has used the word intent several times in her training. Is this what I am doing? Using intent to get here?”
The mushroom became much more illuminated, Mahkah felt as if it had smiled. “Yes, exactly. Intent is the means by which humans and their spirit within them lives life. Unfortunately, very few recognize that simple fact because they are caught in the traps of their conscious mind, which offers nothing but the behavior of a spoiled child requiring constant attention. When you use your intent to deny its high maintenance requirements, great strides can be made in these levels here with us.”
Mahkah understood because Wakanda had already explained some of this to him. But it had taken Miranda’s contact to drive it all home so he fully understood it.
He asked, “Is this the purpose of my life?”
Miranda smiled by glowing more brightly again. “Absolutely. Preparing your spirit for moving on after your physical body is used up is exactly what you, as well as all humans, should be doing.”
Mahkah started to ask a question about heaven, but Miranda cut him off. “This has little to do with what organized religions, such as what Christianity and Islam, teach. We will discuss religion in more detail once you have more control here.”
Mahkah sighed, “Wakanda says the same thing.”
“And she is a wise shaman,” Miranda said matter-of-factly. “She had the ability to find you over a thousand miles away, bring you to her for training, and set you on the path to enlightenment. You are indeed a very fortunate soul.”
Mahkah nodded agreement. Then the cave began to dissolve, as all things in dreams do when one tries to focus attention on them very long.
Now, 60 years later, Mahkah still used the cave to start his shamanic journeys. And he was happy that Wakanda, and on a rare occasion, Miranda, had stayed with him as teachers and companions on those other levels of consciousness. For he was convinced that without their guidance through the years, he would have been swallowed up by the powerful beings that exist there.
End Chapter 4
-4-
Laura had been elated when the cylindrical object responded to her touch two hours before. Seams had suddenly appeared on the surface of the object, along each end, running the length of the cylinder between the two lines. When they connected, a different sound, a hum lower in tone, emanated from the object. As if run on gears, although upon inspection she could find none, it opened up revealing something inside the cylinder itself. She took it out.
It looked like a large roll of aluminum foil that had been removed from its box. Silver and shiny, but slightly heavier in weight.
She’d laid it out on the desk, only illuminated by the candles in her room. It had a seam. She tugged slightly at the seam and within two seconds, the roll had quickly uncoiled itself automatically – going perfectly flat without emitting a sound at all. She had been amazed there were no crinkles, no wrinkling of whatever material it was made from. It was a perfectly flat silver-chrome board, about the size of a large cookie sheet, 3 feet wide and 2 feet tall.
There was writing on it in some form of language she was not familiar with. Emblems of some sort, all different, inside 8 boxes that looked etched, rather than painted, in the strange metal. The emblems, or icons, were each different from the one before. They were beautiful, using hues and combinations of all the colors of a rainbow, each being distinctly different, but similar in shape. The icons were laid out two rows of four boxes in each row, separated by a glimmering pearl colored divider that partitioned out each box from its neighbor.
The writing, or glyphs, was above each icon. She couldn’t recall seeing writing of this type in any of her archaeology studies, and she told herself that Professor Katz would be the one most likely to be able to interpret them.
She had been studying the metal scroll for over two hours, making notes and doing her best to draw each one in her notebook. She looked at the clock radio on the nightstand, just to be reminded there was still no power. She knew it had to be getting late, and was hoping her students were in bed.
Earlier, Laura had considered knocking on their doors to let them know she’d been successful in opening the metal tube, but she’d decided that they could see it in the morning. She preferred the quiet solitude to study the object in more detail.
Laura was dead tired from the cave dive and the day’s excitement. With pen still in hand, her eyes heavy, her head began to droop. She dozed off with her head resting on the desk.
* * * * *
Mahkah’s body and conscious mind were asleep, but his subconscious mind and his spirit, or what he referred to as his dreaming body, were already hard at work. He had begun going to sleep as he had thousands of times before, being aware of the body slipping to the edge of consciousness. But where most people lost track of the transition between sleep and awake, Mahkah was a master at maintaining control. He knew it was important to imagine and visualize a cave he had been shown in a dream when very young, in his teens. It had happened quite by accident, or at least he thought it was.
One night while sleeping in the cot Wakanda had given him after adoption, with his head facing due north as she had demanded, Mahkah had a dream that would alter his life forever.
He had found himself deep within a cave inhabited by four mushrooms, each roughly about the size of a small man, all perched on beautifully finished tree stumps. The cave had been completely dark, except for lighting that had appeared as spotlights over each mushroom figure. He had never been quite sure if it was a light from above over each one, or if it was their distinct glow of energy that each had given off from their peaks. From his perception’s point-of-view, it was as if they had very tall auras, illuminating their entire form.
One mushroom was noticeably larger than the other three, its body about four feet tall with a very short stem. And while all the mushrooms had appeared as a type of morel, beige in color with off-white stems, the larger one was more pointed and had a blue-white glow around it. Its geometry had been perfect. Not an imperfection visible in its morel pattern that looked like brain tissue. Although there had been absolutely no words or other communication from the mushrooms, the larger one had somehow relayed a message that it was okay for him to physically touch it. He determined it was the leader, more powerful in energy than the other three.
Mahkah had reached out and felt the perfectly formed mushroom. Its energy was tangible. His dreaming body could actually feel an electric-like mild current as he caressed the top, cone and sides of the mushroom. He knew then it was not a mushroom, but a spirit from another level within his dream state. Then he could see energetically-charged white lines between his hands and the mushroom, as he pulled outward on the soft flesh. The spirit allowed him to do this, as if to send a message that it didn’t hurt, that this was exactly what he should be doing – to see the energy flow between all living things.
The other mushrooms had remained motionless during the entire scene. He sensed nothing from them, as if the only one meant to be communicating with him was the largest of the four.
Then he sensed that the mushroom he was touching said something to him, although it wasn’t verbalized. The words just appeared, as if from nowhere, inside his head.
The mushroom said, “This is your cave, your starting point when you want to journey in spirit during dreams. Visualize this cave as you go to sleep and desire your dreaming body to be active.”
The young Mahkah had thought, “I wonder if this is a spirit or if this is just a dream that seems real?”
As if it had read his thoughts, the mushroom replied, “Dreams are very real. Even normal people have dreams that seem more real than everyday life at the time they are having them. But a few minutes of consciousness when they wake up, simply the time used to brush their teeth, fades the dream in to vapors and memories so distant they rarely can recall them.”
Mahkah had nodded and asked, “What is your name? Should I expect you to be here each time when I’m dreaming?”
The answer rolled through his head as the mushroom replied, “My name is Miranda. I am one of your spirit guides on these levels. As you become more adept developing your dream body control, you may see others like me, but in different forms. And I will be here at times, yes.”
“Are you a woman?” Mahkah asked, puzzled that the voice had no male or female tone to it. It was just a voice in his head.
“Think of me however you prefer. I have no body of course, so therefore no gender. I have not inhabited a physical body for ages. I have been told it is no longer necessary.”
Mahkah’s mind was racing, full of so many questions he couldn’t figure out which ones to ask first. “How do I get here again?” was the most important question in his mind.
“Simply visualize this cave, all four mushrooms exactly as they are now. Remember this moment, frame it in your mind like a picture. Memorize every single detail. The log stumps we are sitting on, the light around us, the complete void of sound when in this cave. Then, when you are falling asleep, visualize it exactly as you have remembered it.”
Mahkah had nodded, then asked, “Wakanda has used the word intent several times in her training. Is this what I am doing? Using intent to get here?”
The mushroom became much more illuminated, Mahkah felt as if it had smiled. “Yes, exactly. Intent is the means by which humans and their spirit within them lives life. Unfortunately, very few recognize that simple fact because they are caught in the traps of their conscious mind, which offers nothing but the behavior of a spoiled child requiring constant attention. When you use your intent to deny its high maintenance requirements, great strides can be made in these levels here with us.”
Mahkah understood because Wakanda had already explained some of this to him. But it had taken Miranda’s contact to drive it all home so he fully understood it.
He asked, “Is this the purpose of my life?”
Miranda smiled by glowing more brightly again. “Absolutely. Preparing your spirit for moving on after your physical body is used up is exactly what you, as well as all humans, should be doing.”
Mahkah started to ask a question about heaven, but Miranda cut him off. “This has little to do with what organized religions, such as what Christianity and Islam, teach. We will discuss religion in more detail once you have more control here.”
Mahkah sighed, “Wakanda says the same thing.”
“And she is a wise shaman,” Miranda said matter-of-factly. “She had the ability to find you over a thousand miles away, bring you to her for training, and set you on the path to enlightenment. You are indeed a very fortunate soul.”
Mahkah nodded agreement. Then the cave began to dissolve, as all things in dreams do when one tries to focus attention on them very long.
Now, 60 years later, Mahkah still used the cave to start his shamanic journeys. And he was happy that Wakanda, and on a rare occasion, Miranda, had stayed with him as teachers and companions on those other levels of consciousness. For he was convinced that without their guidance through the years, he would have been swallowed up by the powerful beings that exist there.
End Chapter 4
ShunZu
member
The Cataclysm Scroll - Chapter 5
Laura was dreaming, fast asleep still sitting in the chair with her head on the desk. There were hundreds of people all around her, dressed differently than today. White robes and sandals seemed to be prevalent. She saw no blue jeans or high heels, and felt as if it was a long time ago. The people were hurrying in all directions, some carrying things, old people being carried by young. Laura noticed she was standing in several inches of ash, thick and white in its texture. She was trying to figure out the source of the ash filling the street when a lady running by her turned and looked directly in to her eyes.
“You are having a lucid dream,” the woman said to Laura. “The year is 79 A.D.” Then she dissipated into nothingness, as if she’d never been there.
Laura quickly looked around for her, but could not see where the woman had gone. Then she noticed the mountains to the north and west of the town she was in. Dark smoke was pouring out of a distant mountain about five miles away. She knew immediately it was a volcano. Then she remembered what the woman had said. “79 A.D.”
“Oh my God!” Laura exclaimed as she remembered her history lessons. “Pompeii! I’m in Pompeii before the Mount Vesuvius eruption!”
She didn’t know what to do. People were running at her, away from her, huddling in corners of buildings trying to get out of the falling ash. She noticed it was really coming down, but couldn’t understand why it wasn’t affecting her ability to breathe. Then she noticed a man running at her, holding his son on his shoulders. Laura tried to get out of his way because he apparently hadn’t seen her. She quickly jumped to the left to get out of his way, but he had also turned. She braced herself for the impact that was sure to come from being run over by two people.
The imminent collision didn’t happen.
The man, with son on his back, ran right through her. She felt nothing but wind as he passed through her.
She was standing in the middle of the street, trying to figure out how and why this was happening, when she felt the earth shake below her feet. It was a shock that should have knocked her down, but she was still on her feet. Other people around her all fell to the ground. The earthquake continued for what she guessed was at least a minute, then stopped.
An explosion from the northwest got her attention in the midst of the chaos around her. She turned just in time to see a section of the peak of Vesuvius blast out and away from the mountain’s peak, immediately followed by a pillar of dark gray smoke that must have been at least ten miles high. She saw the orange glow of lava rolling down the mountain, burning everything in its path, including trees, houses and people. The pyroclastic flow was heading down the mountain, seemingly directly at her.
People were coughing and choking from the ash, now coming down so heavily she couldn’t see buildings not far from her that she had seen clearly just moments before. She was still amazed the ash had no effect on her. Then, a male voice behind her called her name.
“Laura.”
She spun around to see an old man standing a few feet from her, who was also apparently not affected by the ash. The old cowboy hat he was wearing, however, might have been protecting him from it because he had over a half-inch of the gray soot on it.
She eyed him up and down. He was smiling, perfect white teeth defying a body she guessed to be well in his 70’s. He looked like an American Indian, weathered, very tan skin almost leathery in appearance. He had on a simple clean white t-shirt under a leather vest, a worn-out but clean pair of blue jeans, and at the bottom of this remarkable image was a pair of old oxblood color cowboy boots, also well-worn.
“Who are you?” she exclaimed, surprised.
“My name is Mahkah,” he said, still smiling. His voice had a smooth, almost silky quality to it. “You need not fear me.”
Laura thought his voice also defied his age. It sounded like a man in his 40’s. She was trying to control her panic, with the erupting volcano behind her and this old Indian in front.
“Why should I fear you?” she asked in a voice she tried to keep from trembling. “Do you know what’s happening? We’re about to be burnt to cinders by Mount Vesuvius!”
He laughed. “No, we are not, my dear. We are both dreaming this.”
Then Laura remembered the woman who had earlier disappeared after telling her she was having a lucid dream.
“Is the volcano not going to kill us then?” she asked, hopeful she already knew the answer.
“No,” he said flatly, chuckling. “It cannot hurt your spirit body, which is what you are in now. I am here to help you, and to ask something of you.”
This threw Laura into a mental wrestling match, trying to determine what was reality and what was not. This certainly seemed real, she could smell and taste the ash, although it hadn’t hurt her yet. And this old Indian, laughing at her questions, was pissing her off. She decided to get angry. The best defense was always a good offense.
“Get out of my dream right now!” she yelled.
Mahkah laughed harder, making a gesture that she had just hurt his ears by twisting both little fingers on each side of his head.
“I’m sorry, I cannot do that at this moment,” he said, returning to a smile. “You and I need to talk, and we cannot do that here. It is too noisy and there are too many distractions.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Laura said, still angry.
The Indian just chuckled again, then Laura felt herself being swept away as if in a whirlpool going down a sink – but sideways. She could perceive air passing her quickly, as the sound of the volcano and its dying residents screaming behind her faded out.
A moment later, she was standing at the edge of Lake Mississippi. She looked around and saw the old Indian still next to her side. He was gazing out onto the water. It was early morning, the sun behind her was coming up in the East.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“You know exactly where you are, Laura. Don’t play stupid, you are too intelligent to play the dumb blonde routine,” he said with that big smile again. He pointed down to the water’s edge.
She followed with her eyes and saw her own footprints where she had climbed out of the muck carrying her dive gear. It was her footprints, alright. She recognized the pattern on the bottom of her dive booties in the mud.
“Why are we here?” she asked, now more puzzled than mad. Her mind was racing with possibilities of how she had gotten here so quickly and what had happened to those people in Pompeii.
“You know the answer to both those questions,” he said.
“Both? I only asked one question!” she exclaimed.
“No,” he said, looking her in the eyes. “You asked why we were here, and wanted to know what happened to those poor people in Pompeii. You know the answer to the last question, don’t you? And I’m about to answer your first question.”
Laura felt uneasy. He had just read her mind. He was a scary old man, for sure.
He motioned for her to sit down. “Have a seat, please.”
She sat down. The grass growing up through the rocks felt damp with the morning’s dew. She was still testing herself to see if she was really dreaming or perhaps that metal thing had done something to her sense of reality. She wondered if it had contained some kind of hallucinogenic gas or poison.
Mahkah sat down across from her, about five feet away. They were both sitting Indian-style. She glanced down, not sure what clothes she was wearing in this dream, to make sure it was pants and not a skirt. It was blue jeans, strangely, the same pair she’d worn the day before.
“No, there was no gas or poison in the canister,” he answered again without being asked. Laura was getting alarmed.
“Quit reading my damn thoughts! I didn’t invite you into my dreams to begin with!” she said, returning to her comfort zone of being angry.
“On the contrary, yes you did. At least, in a manner of speaking,” he said. “When you plucked that canister from the Earth, you took something that was meant to remain for all time. It was dislodged by the earthquake last month, washed out of its home by the water, and you stumbled upon it. I have been asked to be the messenger and request you return it immediately.” Mahkah paused speaking, as if to give her an opportunity to digest everything he’d said.
Laura didn’t answer. She had a puzzled look on her face, still waiting for more of an explanation.
Mahkah continued, “As I said, and you are already aware, we are both dreaming. You are in what I, and others like me, call the dreaming body. Other people may call it out-of-body, or O.O.B. But that isn’t entirely correct, because your spirit is capable of doing much more than simply leaving its host. Tagging it with such a simplistic explanation is your conscious mind’s way of protecting itself.”
Laura’s mind was spinning. This felt so real.
Mahkah smiled, “You will see me again in this state of consciousness. We will talk more, very soon. But now, I must leave you.” As quickly as he’d said it, he dissipated in front of Laura’s eyes.
-5-
Laura was dreaming, fast asleep still sitting in the chair with her head on the desk. There were hundreds of people all around her, dressed differently than today. White robes and sandals seemed to be prevalent. She saw no blue jeans or high heels, and felt as if it was a long time ago. The people were hurrying in all directions, some carrying things, old people being carried by young. Laura noticed she was standing in several inches of ash, thick and white in its texture. She was trying to figure out the source of the ash filling the street when a lady running by her turned and looked directly in to her eyes.
“You are having a lucid dream,” the woman said to Laura. “The year is 79 A.D.” Then she dissipated into nothingness, as if she’d never been there.
Laura quickly looked around for her, but could not see where the woman had gone. Then she noticed the mountains to the north and west of the town she was in. Dark smoke was pouring out of a distant mountain about five miles away. She knew immediately it was a volcano. Then she remembered what the woman had said. “79 A.D.”
“Oh my God!” Laura exclaimed as she remembered her history lessons. “Pompeii! I’m in Pompeii before the Mount Vesuvius eruption!”
She didn’t know what to do. People were running at her, away from her, huddling in corners of buildings trying to get out of the falling ash. She noticed it was really coming down, but couldn’t understand why it wasn’t affecting her ability to breathe. Then she noticed a man running at her, holding his son on his shoulders. Laura tried to get out of his way because he apparently hadn’t seen her. She quickly jumped to the left to get out of his way, but he had also turned. She braced herself for the impact that was sure to come from being run over by two people.
The imminent collision didn’t happen.
The man, with son on his back, ran right through her. She felt nothing but wind as he passed through her.
She was standing in the middle of the street, trying to figure out how and why this was happening, when she felt the earth shake below her feet. It was a shock that should have knocked her down, but she was still on her feet. Other people around her all fell to the ground. The earthquake continued for what she guessed was at least a minute, then stopped.
An explosion from the northwest got her attention in the midst of the chaos around her. She turned just in time to see a section of the peak of Vesuvius blast out and away from the mountain’s peak, immediately followed by a pillar of dark gray smoke that must have been at least ten miles high. She saw the orange glow of lava rolling down the mountain, burning everything in its path, including trees, houses and people. The pyroclastic flow was heading down the mountain, seemingly directly at her.
People were coughing and choking from the ash, now coming down so heavily she couldn’t see buildings not far from her that she had seen clearly just moments before. She was still amazed the ash had no effect on her. Then, a male voice behind her called her name.
“Laura.”
She spun around to see an old man standing a few feet from her, who was also apparently not affected by the ash. The old cowboy hat he was wearing, however, might have been protecting him from it because he had over a half-inch of the gray soot on it.
She eyed him up and down. He was smiling, perfect white teeth defying a body she guessed to be well in his 70’s. He looked like an American Indian, weathered, very tan skin almost leathery in appearance. He had on a simple clean white t-shirt under a leather vest, a worn-out but clean pair of blue jeans, and at the bottom of this remarkable image was a pair of old oxblood color cowboy boots, also well-worn.
“Who are you?” she exclaimed, surprised.
“My name is Mahkah,” he said, still smiling. His voice had a smooth, almost silky quality to it. “You need not fear me.”
Laura thought his voice also defied his age. It sounded like a man in his 40’s. She was trying to control her panic, with the erupting volcano behind her and this old Indian in front.
“Why should I fear you?” she asked in a voice she tried to keep from trembling. “Do you know what’s happening? We’re about to be burnt to cinders by Mount Vesuvius!”
He laughed. “No, we are not, my dear. We are both dreaming this.”
Then Laura remembered the woman who had earlier disappeared after telling her she was having a lucid dream.
“Is the volcano not going to kill us then?” she asked, hopeful she already knew the answer.
“No,” he said flatly, chuckling. “It cannot hurt your spirit body, which is what you are in now. I am here to help you, and to ask something of you.”
This threw Laura into a mental wrestling match, trying to determine what was reality and what was not. This certainly seemed real, she could smell and taste the ash, although it hadn’t hurt her yet. And this old Indian, laughing at her questions, was pissing her off. She decided to get angry. The best defense was always a good offense.
“Get out of my dream right now!” she yelled.
Mahkah laughed harder, making a gesture that she had just hurt his ears by twisting both little fingers on each side of his head.
“I’m sorry, I cannot do that at this moment,” he said, returning to a smile. “You and I need to talk, and we cannot do that here. It is too noisy and there are too many distractions.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Laura said, still angry.
The Indian just chuckled again, then Laura felt herself being swept away as if in a whirlpool going down a sink – but sideways. She could perceive air passing her quickly, as the sound of the volcano and its dying residents screaming behind her faded out.
A moment later, she was standing at the edge of Lake Mississippi. She looked around and saw the old Indian still next to her side. He was gazing out onto the water. It was early morning, the sun behind her was coming up in the East.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“You know exactly where you are, Laura. Don’t play stupid, you are too intelligent to play the dumb blonde routine,” he said with that big smile again. He pointed down to the water’s edge.
She followed with her eyes and saw her own footprints where she had climbed out of the muck carrying her dive gear. It was her footprints, alright. She recognized the pattern on the bottom of her dive booties in the mud.
“Why are we here?” she asked, now more puzzled than mad. Her mind was racing with possibilities of how she had gotten here so quickly and what had happened to those people in Pompeii.
“You know the answer to both those questions,” he said.
“Both? I only asked one question!” she exclaimed.
“No,” he said, looking her in the eyes. “You asked why we were here, and wanted to know what happened to those poor people in Pompeii. You know the answer to the last question, don’t you? And I’m about to answer your first question.”
Laura felt uneasy. He had just read her mind. He was a scary old man, for sure.
He motioned for her to sit down. “Have a seat, please.”
She sat down. The grass growing up through the rocks felt damp with the morning’s dew. She was still testing herself to see if she was really dreaming or perhaps that metal thing had done something to her sense of reality. She wondered if it had contained some kind of hallucinogenic gas or poison.
Mahkah sat down across from her, about five feet away. They were both sitting Indian-style. She glanced down, not sure what clothes she was wearing in this dream, to make sure it was pants and not a skirt. It was blue jeans, strangely, the same pair she’d worn the day before.
“No, there was no gas or poison in the canister,” he answered again without being asked. Laura was getting alarmed.
“Quit reading my damn thoughts! I didn’t invite you into my dreams to begin with!” she said, returning to her comfort zone of being angry.
“On the contrary, yes you did. At least, in a manner of speaking,” he said. “When you plucked that canister from the Earth, you took something that was meant to remain for all time. It was dislodged by the earthquake last month, washed out of its home by the water, and you stumbled upon it. I have been asked to be the messenger and request you return it immediately.” Mahkah paused speaking, as if to give her an opportunity to digest everything he’d said.
Laura didn’t answer. She had a puzzled look on her face, still waiting for more of an explanation.
Mahkah continued, “As I said, and you are already aware, we are both dreaming. You are in what I, and others like me, call the dreaming body. Other people may call it out-of-body, or O.O.B. But that isn’t entirely correct, because your spirit is capable of doing much more than simply leaving its host. Tagging it with such a simplistic explanation is your conscious mind’s way of protecting itself.”
Laura’s mind was spinning. This felt so real.
Mahkah smiled, “You will see me again in this state of consciousness. We will talk more, very soon. But now, I must leave you.” As quickly as he’d said it, he dissipated in front of Laura’s eyes.
ShunZu
member
The Cataclysm Scroll - Chapter 5
Ty Massey had relocated a couple weeks after the earthquake. Taking a toll-boat across Lake Mississippi, he’d then hiked to some property up Interstate 70, about 60 miles northeast of St. Louis to a little town called Greenville, IL.
There, just off Red Ball Trail road, on a timbered tract north of town that his Dad and step-Mom had carved out of nature, he planned on staying for a while. There was good well water, a barn, tractors and equipment, and more food and game available than where he had come from.
His Dad and step-Mom had been on a two-month long fishing and camping trip, pulling their bass boat behind a small motor home. His Dad had been relieved to receive a call on his cell phone from the National Guard a week after the disaster, letting them know that Ty was in good shape and had become a hero in helping spoil the terrorist’s plans.
Only last week Ty had been decorated by the National Guard at a ceremony in Chesterfield Missouri, just a few miles from the shoreline of the new lake, for his efforts in helping protect civilians and national Guardsmen in the St. Louis area following the series of earthquakes. When Ty left Missouri, he and his buddy and spotter, Bob Armstrong, had parted company. Bob wanted to go north to visit some friends in the Peoria area and mend a bullet wound he’d received during a sniper duel between them and a Russian mercenary working for the Iranian terrorists.
Greenville is far enough away from the Mississippi River area to have been spared a lot of the damage done to the St. Louis and Metro East areas. Basic utilities such as electric and most telephones were working here.
Gasoline wasn't quite as expensive, and diesel fuel was more easily available for the tractors. His Dad and step-Mom had a decent garden going, about a half-acre of tomatoes, bush beans, potatoes, jalapenos and bell peppers. It was a little overgrown with weeds because of the extended fishing trip they were on, but Ty’d been working on it the last few days and the garden showed promise.
His Dad and step-Mom canned or froze nearly everything they grew, or at least, what they didn’t give away to family, friends and neighbors. Ty knew the food would be valuable this winter. The log cabin they’d built just a few years before had a nice basement, its storage shelves stocked with canned goods in old Ball jars, with smoked and salt-cured meats and sausages hanging in rows.
He hadn't heard from Rachel, one of the two American Airlines flight attendants that he and Bob had helped immediately following the quake. Rachel, and her girlfriend Susie, had both returned to their homes in Los Angeles in Atlanta, respectively. Ty missed his friends. Although he enjoyed solitude at times, it was pretty quiet and lonely in this area.
Ty and Bob had been interviewed by the CNN field reporter, Jack Brannan, whose life had been saved by them several days after the big quake. Two agents of the KGB/GRU had attempted to assassinate Brannan to squelch the story that he’d learned about an Iranian terrorist plot against America.
Vladimir Korchenko, one of the top Russian sniper's from the old regime had missed his opportunity to kill Brannan because of Ty's intervention. Ty and Korchenko had exchanged bullets from over 1000 yards apart in the sniper duel of duels. Ty thought he killed Korchenko when the Russian sniper fell to the ground. But his bullet had struck Korchenko's rifle instead, allowing the sniper to escape while Ty carried his wounded buddy, Bob, back to safety.
When it was all over, Jack Brannan had returned to Atlanta on the same plane as Susie. Rachel had returned home to L.A. Ty was hoping to see them all again sometime in the future.
Last week, a neighboring farmer, Roy, with land adjacent to his Dad’s place had invited Ty to a campfire where all the country folk had gathered around wanting to hear stories of what had transpired in the St. Louis area following the quake. When Ty had described the murder and chaos, the warlord factions, and crime that had ensued, the neighbors and their families had looked at each other in disbelief. A few of the old-time farmers just looked at each other and nodded, as if their distrust and dislike of the big cities was verified.
More detailed news and description of the Memphis and St. Louis areas had been forthcoming as rebuilding efforts had commenced. Both Memphis and St. Louis would take years to rebuild. The government had stated that all of the bridges that had been downed would take a long time to fully repair or replace.
Today, Ty was sitting on the shoreline of Coffeen Lake trying to catch a few catfish for the day’s dinner. It was the one food staple that was in good supply, and catfish from this lake tasted particularly good. It was about an hour's walk from his Dad’s place. It was just starting to break dawn, a beautiful sunrise on this August morning. He had been successful in catching three catfish that were already on the stringer, using nightcrawlers for bait that he’d dug up near the garden the evening before.
Life was good here, a whole lot better than for the people that were still stranded in the St. Louis area.
He was trying to recollect a dream he had last night, although he typically did not remember dreams. He was trying to recall the face of a man, he thought perhaps an old man, who had been talking to him throughout the night. He wasn't quite sure why, but he felt the dream was important. Ty was trying to imagine more of the details, such as what the old man looked like, but wasn't having much luck. He leaned back against a Hickory tree and closed his eyes, but the more he tried to recall the events of the dream, the more it seemed to slip from him.
He finally gave up trying, and mentally started lining up his chores to get accomplished today. He would water the garden, split some firewood for the coming cold months, and sit at the reloaders that evening to kick out some more shells. He and Bob had gone through quite a bit of ammunition during the two weeks of chaos at Lake Mississippi. A reloader all of his life, his Dad had a good supply of gunpowder, primers, and bullets that he could load up some rounds for .308 and .300 Win Mag. Then he wondered how many .45 auto ammo rounds were available because he had less than a box left when he’d walked in. Ty made a mental note to check and see how many .45s his Dad had loaded and stored away.
And then he thought about Rachel. He missed her smile, laugh and companionship. Even in the darkest days following the quake, she had kept them all in good humor and helped keep the group positive about their future. But he knew that now that she was back in L.A., distance would be a problem. And he realized their backgrounds were way too different and that the relationship would never work out long-term. But he’d sure enjoyed her company, and hoped that the feeling had been mutual.
One of Ty’s fishing poles bounced. He watched the line where it entered the water and quietly said to the fish, “Hungry? Come nibble on my worm!” He moved quietly to the pole, took it out of the rod holder and set the hook.
There was a nice pull on the other end. Now he’d have enough for today and tomorrow’s dinner, and if the fish would cooperate for the next couple of hours, he could share some with his neighbor farmer. Roy had a hip replaced the day before and was in the Greenville hospital healing up. Ty was sure he’d appreciate some fresh fried fish for supper, if sneaking it in past the hospital guard was successful.
End Chapter 5
Ty Massey had relocated a couple weeks after the earthquake. Taking a toll-boat across Lake Mississippi, he’d then hiked to some property up Interstate 70, about 60 miles northeast of St. Louis to a little town called Greenville, IL.
There, just off Red Ball Trail road, on a timbered tract north of town that his Dad and step-Mom had carved out of nature, he planned on staying for a while. There was good well water, a barn, tractors and equipment, and more food and game available than where he had come from.
His Dad and step-Mom had been on a two-month long fishing and camping trip, pulling their bass boat behind a small motor home. His Dad had been relieved to receive a call on his cell phone from the National Guard a week after the disaster, letting them know that Ty was in good shape and had become a hero in helping spoil the terrorist’s plans.
Only last week Ty had been decorated by the National Guard at a ceremony in Chesterfield Missouri, just a few miles from the shoreline of the new lake, for his efforts in helping protect civilians and national Guardsmen in the St. Louis area following the series of earthquakes. When Ty left Missouri, he and his buddy and spotter, Bob Armstrong, had parted company. Bob wanted to go north to visit some friends in the Peoria area and mend a bullet wound he’d received during a sniper duel between them and a Russian mercenary working for the Iranian terrorists.
Greenville is far enough away from the Mississippi River area to have been spared a lot of the damage done to the St. Louis and Metro East areas. Basic utilities such as electric and most telephones were working here.
Gasoline wasn't quite as expensive, and diesel fuel was more easily available for the tractors. His Dad and step-Mom had a decent garden going, about a half-acre of tomatoes, bush beans, potatoes, jalapenos and bell peppers. It was a little overgrown with weeds because of the extended fishing trip they were on, but Ty’d been working on it the last few days and the garden showed promise.
His Dad and step-Mom canned or froze nearly everything they grew, or at least, what they didn’t give away to family, friends and neighbors. Ty knew the food would be valuable this winter. The log cabin they’d built just a few years before had a nice basement, its storage shelves stocked with canned goods in old Ball jars, with smoked and salt-cured meats and sausages hanging in rows.
He hadn't heard from Rachel, one of the two American Airlines flight attendants that he and Bob had helped immediately following the quake. Rachel, and her girlfriend Susie, had both returned to their homes in Los Angeles in Atlanta, respectively. Ty missed his friends. Although he enjoyed solitude at times, it was pretty quiet and lonely in this area.
Ty and Bob had been interviewed by the CNN field reporter, Jack Brannan, whose life had been saved by them several days after the big quake. Two agents of the KGB/GRU had attempted to assassinate Brannan to squelch the story that he’d learned about an Iranian terrorist plot against America.
Vladimir Korchenko, one of the top Russian sniper's from the old regime had missed his opportunity to kill Brannan because of Ty's intervention. Ty and Korchenko had exchanged bullets from over 1000 yards apart in the sniper duel of duels. Ty thought he killed Korchenko when the Russian sniper fell to the ground. But his bullet had struck Korchenko's rifle instead, allowing the sniper to escape while Ty carried his wounded buddy, Bob, back to safety.
When it was all over, Jack Brannan had returned to Atlanta on the same plane as Susie. Rachel had returned home to L.A. Ty was hoping to see them all again sometime in the future.
Last week, a neighboring farmer, Roy, with land adjacent to his Dad’s place had invited Ty to a campfire where all the country folk had gathered around wanting to hear stories of what had transpired in the St. Louis area following the quake. When Ty had described the murder and chaos, the warlord factions, and crime that had ensued, the neighbors and their families had looked at each other in disbelief. A few of the old-time farmers just looked at each other and nodded, as if their distrust and dislike of the big cities was verified.
More detailed news and description of the Memphis and St. Louis areas had been forthcoming as rebuilding efforts had commenced. Both Memphis and St. Louis would take years to rebuild. The government had stated that all of the bridges that had been downed would take a long time to fully repair or replace.
Today, Ty was sitting on the shoreline of Coffeen Lake trying to catch a few catfish for the day’s dinner. It was the one food staple that was in good supply, and catfish from this lake tasted particularly good. It was about an hour's walk from his Dad’s place. It was just starting to break dawn, a beautiful sunrise on this August morning. He had been successful in catching three catfish that were already on the stringer, using nightcrawlers for bait that he’d dug up near the garden the evening before.
Life was good here, a whole lot better than for the people that were still stranded in the St. Louis area.
He was trying to recollect a dream he had last night, although he typically did not remember dreams. He was trying to recall the face of a man, he thought perhaps an old man, who had been talking to him throughout the night. He wasn't quite sure why, but he felt the dream was important. Ty was trying to imagine more of the details, such as what the old man looked like, but wasn't having much luck. He leaned back against a Hickory tree and closed his eyes, but the more he tried to recall the events of the dream, the more it seemed to slip from him.
He finally gave up trying, and mentally started lining up his chores to get accomplished today. He would water the garden, split some firewood for the coming cold months, and sit at the reloaders that evening to kick out some more shells. He and Bob had gone through quite a bit of ammunition during the two weeks of chaos at Lake Mississippi. A reloader all of his life, his Dad had a good supply of gunpowder, primers, and bullets that he could load up some rounds for .308 and .300 Win Mag. Then he wondered how many .45 auto ammo rounds were available because he had less than a box left when he’d walked in. Ty made a mental note to check and see how many .45s his Dad had loaded and stored away.
And then he thought about Rachel. He missed her smile, laugh and companionship. Even in the darkest days following the quake, she had kept them all in good humor and helped keep the group positive about their future. But he knew that now that she was back in L.A., distance would be a problem. And he realized their backgrounds were way too different and that the relationship would never work out long-term. But he’d sure enjoyed her company, and hoped that the feeling had been mutual.
One of Ty’s fishing poles bounced. He watched the line where it entered the water and quietly said to the fish, “Hungry? Come nibble on my worm!” He moved quietly to the pole, took it out of the rod holder and set the hook.
There was a nice pull on the other end. Now he’d have enough for today and tomorrow’s dinner, and if the fish would cooperate for the next couple of hours, he could share some with his neighbor farmer. Roy had a hip replaced the day before and was in the Greenville hospital healing up. Ty was sure he’d appreciate some fresh fried fish for supper, if sneaking it in past the hospital guard was successful.
End Chapter 5
ShunZu
member
The Cataclysm Scroll - Chapter 6
Laura slowly returned to consciousness from her deep sleep and vivid dreams. As she raised her head off the desk, she remembered the night's dreams in detail. Before she had straightened herself in a chair, she looked across the strange metallic scroll in front of her. She was astonished to see what looked like a volcano hovering about one inch over one of the squares on the board. This strange hologram was in motion, a small pillar of smoke rising out of the mouth of the volcano and red lava flowing down its side. To her, it looked like an exact replica of what she had seen in her dream that night, in miniature. As she set up in the chair, now fully awake, the volcanic scene before her started to dissolve in the same manner that things had in her dream. In only 15 seconds, the hovering hologram had dissolved. It was entirely gone. Laura was stunned and disappointed it had disappeared so quickly.
She studied the metal plate in detail, looking at it in many different angles as she arose from chair, trying to get the hologram of the volcano to return. No success. The image was gone, but immediately below where she had seen the active volcano, contained within the icon of the particular square, she could make out a tiny diagram of a volcano within the icon itself. The morning light helped in showing more detail than she could see in candle light.
"Fascinating," she said to herself. With the morning light coming through the drapes she went to the window to pull them back to get more light upon the board. Before she could return to the metal board, there was banging on her motel door and she went to open it. Her two students were standing there with smiles, all holding McDonald’s bags.
“We've got breakfast for you boss,” said Josh, smiling. “We're packed and ready to go when you are.” Laura excitedly dragged them into the room and pointed at the scroll. All three stood there in disbelief.
“What’s that!?” exclaimed Katie. “Was that in the metal thing?”
Laura nodded, “Yep. It opened up when I pushed on that little circle on its side and that flat metal board just opened up when I pulled on it a little bit.”
Josh was standing over it, studying the icons inside eight squares. “Cool drawings! Any idea what kind of language this is?” He looked at Laura for an answer, but she just shook her head.
“I’m not familiar with it. I’m hoping Professor Katz will know more about that type of glyphs.”
“There’s not a wrinkle in it, boss,” Josh said, gently touching the surface. “If you look real closely, there’s tiny drawings inside the larger ones. I see one here with a tornado, another one looks like a tidal wave, and…”
Laura interrupted him. “And one with a volcano, yes.”
“Yeah!” Josh exclaimed. “And you’re not gonna believe this, but when I touched that volcano just now, it felt warm!”
Laura smiled and said, “And I’ve got one better than that. When we’re on our way, I’ll tell you what that volcano was doing just now when I woke up! And I had a crazy dream you both need to hear about too.”
She’d been wondering how to get the board to curl back up so she could return it to the canister. As she gently touched two corners in an effort to see if it would roll up, it suddenly popped back into its original form. It looked like a perfect scroll about six inches in diameter in seconds.
“Cool!” Katie exclaimed. “That was the neatest thing I’ve ever seen!”
Josh was speechless. Laura gently placed the scroll back in the canister and closed the opening. Without a click or anything to indicate it had sealed, the seams just disappeared without leaving a trace it had ever been opened.
“Let’s get to the lab!” Laura said, still excited at what the professor could figure out about this strange object.
They grabbed all their bags, picked up the canister, and hurried out of the room, still carrying their sacks of breakfast with them. Laura decided to detour toward the air force base again so she could contact the professor to let him know what she’d discovered about the canister.
They ate breakfast while driving east on I-64 toward Scott air force base. Rain had suddenly started. It was a dark, windy morning as they drove. When they got within a few miles of Scott, Laura noticed she had some signal on her cell phone.
She dialed professor Katz after checking to see what time it was. While it was ringing, she told the students they only had two hours to get there. Josh was sitting in front flipping through the radio stations when he heard the news. He turned up the volume on the radio, frustrating Laura when he did. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as if to say “I’m on the phone here!”
Josh exclaimed, “No, no! You’ve gotta hear this!” He turned the radio up even more.
KMOX radio had a news flash announcing that the volcano Vesuvius had interrupted just a few hours before. All three looked at each other in amazement. The news went on to say that tens of thousands of people had been buried in volcanic ash and soot when Vesuvius went unexpectedly. The small city of Ercolano, which was built around the old ruins of Herculaneum, was also being buried.
Josh said, “And that volcano on the metal scroll was warm this morning! I felt it, I’m sure of it!”
Katie could hardly find the words. “Professor, do you think this has anything to do with a volcano that we saw on that metal board?”
“I’m afraid you may be right Katie,” Laura said. She had almost forgotten the phone was ringing. Professor Katz answered. “Katz here.”
“Professor! This is Laura. You’ll never guess what I discovered inside the canister. Last night I pushed a little button on the object and it opened up. Inside was a metal scroll of some kind, and when I went to try to roll it open, it just flipped down flat all on its own. It was weird, moving on its own like that. And there were no scratches or other imperfections that we could find are on it anywhere.”
Professor Katz was really excited. “Excellent!” he said. “Was there anything on it?”
Laura said “Yes, there were things on it! Icons, drawings and some type of writing I can’t interpret. I’m hoping you can understand them or are familiar with the glyphs. We’re coming that way as quickly as we can.” You have to see this for yourself.”
“Absolutely,” professor Katz said. “I'm very anxious to see it. Kirk Perry and I are here waiting in the lab already. Where are you now?”
“I have a weak cell phone signal and will probably lose it soon, heading east on 64. I'm going to go north to I-70 and we should be there in just a couple hours. This storm is really nasty, though. Is it raining there?
“No,” the professor answered. “It's clouding up, and looks like there's one helluva storm coming, but hasn't started raining yet. You guys be careful if the storm is bad there. We can wait. Kirk is already doing some research on what you found, based upon what you’ve told us already. He’s on the computer systems now.”
They had been so excited about the scroll, Laura and her students hadn’t noticed how much more heavily it was raining. Just in the last few minutes it had really gotten worse. Wind was coming from the north pushing the rain nearly sideways in front of them.
“We’ll be careful, professor. And we’ll get there are fast as we can. Laura closed her cell phone and glanced over toward Josh. His eyes were wide-open looking at the windshield at the extreme weather they were driving into.
They hit Illinois route 4 and went north. Then east on I-70 toward another interstate, I-57, which would take them to Champaign.
The storm seemed to get worse as they drove. Although there were many exciting things to talk about, neither of the three said much. They were all concentrating on the road in front of them. Rain had come down so hard, Laura had to fight the steering wheel several times to keep the car from hydroplaning.
They kept the radio on, listening intently as the news continued about Vesuvius. Experts in volcanology were explaining as much as they understood about this particular eruption. They said that there had been no warnings, no earthquakes or other indications that Vesuvius was about to wake up.
Laura said, “This is just too damn weird. I have this feeling in my stomach that somehow that scroll created this. And if it did, all those people are dying because of it.”
Josh was already shaking his head when Katie also disagreed, saying, “There’s no way it could be your fault, professor. It's just a coincidence. If I remember my history, Vesuvius erupted a couple times before the big one when it buried Pompeii, right? And it’s erupted several times since.”
Laura nodded. “You're right Katie, it erupted at least two times that we know of before 79AD. But this is just too much of a coincidence! Let me explain the dream I had last night to you both.”
Josh and Katie looked at her intently, urging her to continue. As they drove east on I-64, Laura explained the strange dream about the old Indian she’d had the night before. Although the dream was very intense and easily remembered when she had first awakened, some of it had faded from her memory since. She hated that. She’d been trying to retain as much of the dream that she could remember, but with the storm, the news of the volcano, and her conversation with professor Katz she could not recollect the entire dream in detail.
When she had finished explaining what she could remember of the dream, she glanced to her side at both students. Katie was sitting on front of the rear seat, her arms rested on Laura and Josh's seats. Both of them waited a few seconds before saying anything.
Josh said, “I understand how you can think it’s related to what’s going on now, but you might have had some kind of psychic dream letting you know this was going to happen.”
Katie agreed. “I’ve heard of people who had dreams telling them not to get on airplanes, and it goes on to crash, and other stuff like that. Josh may be right. It could have been a kinda psychic thing.”
Josh asked, “Do you remember your dreams a lot? I never can. I don’t think I dream.”
Laura answered, “Only once in a while. I’ve read that everyone dreams, every night, but many can’t remember it the next day. But this one I had was so amazingly real, you can't imagine how it felt to be there! I actually understand what these people are going through right now with that volcano going off because I believe I was there last night in my sleep! I know it sounds weird, but…” Her voice trailed off.
The students had never seen her so emotional. Tears were welling up in Laura’s eyes as the news on the radio continued. Neither Josh nor Katie knew what to say to make her feel better, but they knew they needed to cheer her up.
The wind from the thunderstorm was pushing the car around and Laura had a problem keeping it straight on the road. Gusts were pelting the car with heavy rain that was coming down in sheets. She had the windshield wipers on as fast as they could go, but Laura could barely see the road in front of them. It was so dark from the storm, it looked as if the sun had set eight hours early.
“Katie, put on your seatbelt please,” Laura requested. She’d noticed Josh already had his on, but Katie had been leaning forward during the dream description. Hail began hitting the car’s roof, splattering on the windshield as if the rain weren’t enough.
When Katie looked up after snapping the belt, she saw it. All three of them saw it at the same time. The tornado came out of the darkness through the intense rain like a monster bearing down on them. A funnel, directly in front of the car less than a hundred feet away, spinning in the middle of the road.
-6-
Laura slowly returned to consciousness from her deep sleep and vivid dreams. As she raised her head off the desk, she remembered the night's dreams in detail. Before she had straightened herself in a chair, she looked across the strange metallic scroll in front of her. She was astonished to see what looked like a volcano hovering about one inch over one of the squares on the board. This strange hologram was in motion, a small pillar of smoke rising out of the mouth of the volcano and red lava flowing down its side. To her, it looked like an exact replica of what she had seen in her dream that night, in miniature. As she set up in the chair, now fully awake, the volcanic scene before her started to dissolve in the same manner that things had in her dream. In only 15 seconds, the hovering hologram had dissolved. It was entirely gone. Laura was stunned and disappointed it had disappeared so quickly.
She studied the metal plate in detail, looking at it in many different angles as she arose from chair, trying to get the hologram of the volcano to return. No success. The image was gone, but immediately below where she had seen the active volcano, contained within the icon of the particular square, she could make out a tiny diagram of a volcano within the icon itself. The morning light helped in showing more detail than she could see in candle light.
"Fascinating," she said to herself. With the morning light coming through the drapes she went to the window to pull them back to get more light upon the board. Before she could return to the metal board, there was banging on her motel door and she went to open it. Her two students were standing there with smiles, all holding McDonald’s bags.
“We've got breakfast for you boss,” said Josh, smiling. “We're packed and ready to go when you are.” Laura excitedly dragged them into the room and pointed at the scroll. All three stood there in disbelief.
“What’s that!?” exclaimed Katie. “Was that in the metal thing?”
Laura nodded, “Yep. It opened up when I pushed on that little circle on its side and that flat metal board just opened up when I pulled on it a little bit.”
Josh was standing over it, studying the icons inside eight squares. “Cool drawings! Any idea what kind of language this is?” He looked at Laura for an answer, but she just shook her head.
“I’m not familiar with it. I’m hoping Professor Katz will know more about that type of glyphs.”
“There’s not a wrinkle in it, boss,” Josh said, gently touching the surface. “If you look real closely, there’s tiny drawings inside the larger ones. I see one here with a tornado, another one looks like a tidal wave, and…”
Laura interrupted him. “And one with a volcano, yes.”
“Yeah!” Josh exclaimed. “And you’re not gonna believe this, but when I touched that volcano just now, it felt warm!”
Laura smiled and said, “And I’ve got one better than that. When we’re on our way, I’ll tell you what that volcano was doing just now when I woke up! And I had a crazy dream you both need to hear about too.”
She’d been wondering how to get the board to curl back up so she could return it to the canister. As she gently touched two corners in an effort to see if it would roll up, it suddenly popped back into its original form. It looked like a perfect scroll about six inches in diameter in seconds.
“Cool!” Katie exclaimed. “That was the neatest thing I’ve ever seen!”
Josh was speechless. Laura gently placed the scroll back in the canister and closed the opening. Without a click or anything to indicate it had sealed, the seams just disappeared without leaving a trace it had ever been opened.
“Let’s get to the lab!” Laura said, still excited at what the professor could figure out about this strange object.
They grabbed all their bags, picked up the canister, and hurried out of the room, still carrying their sacks of breakfast with them. Laura decided to detour toward the air force base again so she could contact the professor to let him know what she’d discovered about the canister.
They ate breakfast while driving east on I-64 toward Scott air force base. Rain had suddenly started. It was a dark, windy morning as they drove. When they got within a few miles of Scott, Laura noticed she had some signal on her cell phone.
She dialed professor Katz after checking to see what time it was. While it was ringing, she told the students they only had two hours to get there. Josh was sitting in front flipping through the radio stations when he heard the news. He turned up the volume on the radio, frustrating Laura when he did. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as if to say “I’m on the phone here!”
Josh exclaimed, “No, no! You’ve gotta hear this!” He turned the radio up even more.
KMOX radio had a news flash announcing that the volcano Vesuvius had interrupted just a few hours before. All three looked at each other in amazement. The news went on to say that tens of thousands of people had been buried in volcanic ash and soot when Vesuvius went unexpectedly. The small city of Ercolano, which was built around the old ruins of Herculaneum, was also being buried.
Josh said, “And that volcano on the metal scroll was warm this morning! I felt it, I’m sure of it!”
Katie could hardly find the words. “Professor, do you think this has anything to do with a volcano that we saw on that metal board?”
“I’m afraid you may be right Katie,” Laura said. She had almost forgotten the phone was ringing. Professor Katz answered. “Katz here.”
“Professor! This is Laura. You’ll never guess what I discovered inside the canister. Last night I pushed a little button on the object and it opened up. Inside was a metal scroll of some kind, and when I went to try to roll it open, it just flipped down flat all on its own. It was weird, moving on its own like that. And there were no scratches or other imperfections that we could find are on it anywhere.”
Professor Katz was really excited. “Excellent!” he said. “Was there anything on it?”
Laura said “Yes, there were things on it! Icons, drawings and some type of writing I can’t interpret. I’m hoping you can understand them or are familiar with the glyphs. We’re coming that way as quickly as we can.” You have to see this for yourself.”
“Absolutely,” professor Katz said. “I'm very anxious to see it. Kirk Perry and I are here waiting in the lab already. Where are you now?”
“I have a weak cell phone signal and will probably lose it soon, heading east on 64. I'm going to go north to I-70 and we should be there in just a couple hours. This storm is really nasty, though. Is it raining there?
“No,” the professor answered. “It's clouding up, and looks like there's one helluva storm coming, but hasn't started raining yet. You guys be careful if the storm is bad there. We can wait. Kirk is already doing some research on what you found, based upon what you’ve told us already. He’s on the computer systems now.”
They had been so excited about the scroll, Laura and her students hadn’t noticed how much more heavily it was raining. Just in the last few minutes it had really gotten worse. Wind was coming from the north pushing the rain nearly sideways in front of them.
“We’ll be careful, professor. And we’ll get there are fast as we can. Laura closed her cell phone and glanced over toward Josh. His eyes were wide-open looking at the windshield at the extreme weather they were driving into.
They hit Illinois route 4 and went north. Then east on I-70 toward another interstate, I-57, which would take them to Champaign.
The storm seemed to get worse as they drove. Although there were many exciting things to talk about, neither of the three said much. They were all concentrating on the road in front of them. Rain had come down so hard, Laura had to fight the steering wheel several times to keep the car from hydroplaning.
They kept the radio on, listening intently as the news continued about Vesuvius. Experts in volcanology were explaining as much as they understood about this particular eruption. They said that there had been no warnings, no earthquakes or other indications that Vesuvius was about to wake up.
Laura said, “This is just too damn weird. I have this feeling in my stomach that somehow that scroll created this. And if it did, all those people are dying because of it.”
Josh was already shaking his head when Katie also disagreed, saying, “There’s no way it could be your fault, professor. It's just a coincidence. If I remember my history, Vesuvius erupted a couple times before the big one when it buried Pompeii, right? And it’s erupted several times since.”
Laura nodded. “You're right Katie, it erupted at least two times that we know of before 79AD. But this is just too much of a coincidence! Let me explain the dream I had last night to you both.”
Josh and Katie looked at her intently, urging her to continue. As they drove east on I-64, Laura explained the strange dream about the old Indian she’d had the night before. Although the dream was very intense and easily remembered when she had first awakened, some of it had faded from her memory since. She hated that. She’d been trying to retain as much of the dream that she could remember, but with the storm, the news of the volcano, and her conversation with professor Katz she could not recollect the entire dream in detail.
When she had finished explaining what she could remember of the dream, she glanced to her side at both students. Katie was sitting on front of the rear seat, her arms rested on Laura and Josh's seats. Both of them waited a few seconds before saying anything.
Josh said, “I understand how you can think it’s related to what’s going on now, but you might have had some kind of psychic dream letting you know this was going to happen.”
Katie agreed. “I’ve heard of people who had dreams telling them not to get on airplanes, and it goes on to crash, and other stuff like that. Josh may be right. It could have been a kinda psychic thing.”
Josh asked, “Do you remember your dreams a lot? I never can. I don’t think I dream.”
Laura answered, “Only once in a while. I’ve read that everyone dreams, every night, but many can’t remember it the next day. But this one I had was so amazingly real, you can't imagine how it felt to be there! I actually understand what these people are going through right now with that volcano going off because I believe I was there last night in my sleep! I know it sounds weird, but…” Her voice trailed off.
The students had never seen her so emotional. Tears were welling up in Laura’s eyes as the news on the radio continued. Neither Josh nor Katie knew what to say to make her feel better, but they knew they needed to cheer her up.
The wind from the thunderstorm was pushing the car around and Laura had a problem keeping it straight on the road. Gusts were pelting the car with heavy rain that was coming down in sheets. She had the windshield wipers on as fast as they could go, but Laura could barely see the road in front of them. It was so dark from the storm, it looked as if the sun had set eight hours early.
“Katie, put on your seatbelt please,” Laura requested. She’d noticed Josh already had his on, but Katie had been leaning forward during the dream description. Hail began hitting the car’s roof, splattering on the windshield as if the rain weren’t enough.
When Katie looked up after snapping the belt, she saw it. All three of them saw it at the same time. The tornado came out of the darkness through the intense rain like a monster bearing down on them. A funnel, directly in front of the car less than a hundred feet away, spinning in the middle of the road.
ShunZu
member
Chapter 6 - Continued
“Watch out!” Josh shouted, pointing at the tornado. Katie stifled a scream by putting her hand over her mouth. The hail was creating so much noise on the car’s rooftop that the others may not have heard her anyway.
Laura slammed on the brakes and the tires skidded on the wet pavement, shoving hail in front of them. The anti-lock brakes did the best they could to keep the car from sliding out of control, but the fury of the tornado that was now so close to them had other ideas for the Honda. They were close enough to see debris the funnel was carrying along with it, and everyone thought the car would surely fly away.
Wind was pushing the car to the right during the skid, and as Laura tried to correct it with the wheel, the vacuum created behind the tornado whipped the car to the left. Laura was already steering that direction and the car spun into the grass median separating east and west-bound lanes.
The car bounced hard as it hit the grass sideways, then flipped over on its top. Then rolled again. The tornado was pulling the car with it as it moved along, as if it didn’t want to share the median with the Honda and was determined to move it out of the way.
Katie and Laura were screaming and Josh was making a strange shouting noise as they went topsy-turvy. The sound from the tornado was so loud, nobody could have heard them outside the car.
Josh was knocked unconscious when his head slammed into the passenger side window as the car rolled over. The scuba tank stored on the floor under Laura’s dive gear got upended and bounced around inside the car as it tumbled. As the car came to a stop on its wheels, the tank slammed into Katie’s right thigh, snapping the bone. Laura saw stars as her head hit the driver’s side window two times during the rollover.
Katie screamed in pain as she pushed the tank off her leg. Laura tried to look outside for the tornado, but she couldn’t see anything. The windshield was shattered. She spun around to see if Katie was hurt.
“Katie!” Laura exclaimed. “Are you okay?”
Katie was crying in pain. “No, I think the tank broke my leg! It’s numb all the way down and I can’t feel my right foot!” She bit her lip in an attempt to suppress the searing pain in her leg.
Laura looked out the back window for the tornado but couldn’t see anything through the shattered glass back there, either. Then she looked at Josh, sitting limp inside his seat harness, chin down to his chest and clearly unconscious.
“Oh my God,” Laura said, voice shaking. “I don’t know if the tornado’s coming at us or moving away.” She looked for her purse and saw it on the mat next to Josh’s left foot, the contents on the floor. She unbuckled her seat belt and grabbed her cell phone. Upon opening it she saw there was no signal here.
She jumped when someone knocked on her side window. She couldn’t see who it was.
“Lady! Are you guys okay?” a man shouted from outside.
“We’re hurt! Please call an ambulance!” Laura shouted back, hoping her voice could be heard over the rain and wind.
The man nodded, water pouring off his chin, “I reached someone in Greenville with my CB radio already. They said they’d call 911. Get out of the way, I’m going to try to open this door!”
Laura leaned down on the seat and grabbed Josh’s hand while she waited to see if her door would open. It did. She rubbed Josh’s hand and said, “Josh, wake up! Wake up! Are you okay?”
Josh didn’t stir or make a sound but she could see his chest moving, still breathing.
Her door opened and a big man wearing a Freightliner cap leaned into the car, soaked from rain. He offered his hands to Laura to extract her.
“The roof’s crushed down some! Watch your head when you get out!” the man shouted over the storm.
Laura grabbed his hands and slid out of the Honda. She thanked the truck driver.
“There are two college kids still in the car that are hurt,” Laura told him. “I don’t think we should move them until the ambulance gets here.”
The man peered into the car through Laura’s door.
He nodded in agreement. “I’ll stay here ‘til help arrives,” he offered.
“Thank you so much,” Laura said, trying to smile. Then she got dizzy and almost fell to the ground. The truck driver grabbed her and gently lowered her to the wet grass.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Laura nodded, “I hit my head I think, I’m not sure. It all happened so fast I don’t remember.”
The truck driver said, “I’ll grab my rain coat out of the cab. Be right back. You’re lucky that tornado didn’t kill all three of you!” He ran back to the 18-wheeler, dashing through a couple of cars that had stopped to gawk at the accident scene. When he returned, he opened a big yellow raincoat and spread it over Laura.
She’d been talking with Katie to make sure she was still conscious. Although Katie was in severe pain, Laura thought she was going to be all right. But Laura was worried about Josh, who still hadn’t made a sound.
The storm was lessening in intensity and the sky was starting to lighten up as they heard the ambulance’s sirens approaching. It pulled up on the shoulder of the west-bound lane and two medical technicians hopped out, ran around the back of the ambulance and carried a gurney over to Laura’s car.
“Is anyone seriously injured?” the EMT who had been driving asked.
Laura nodded and the truck driver answered for her, “Yeah. A young man’s unconscious in the front seat and the girl in the back probably has a broken leg.” He looked down at Laura and added, “And this lady here may have a concussion.”
“Okay,” the EMT answered. “We’re going to be crowded but we’ll get all three of you on this run. There’s only one ambulance on call today.”
They carefully extracted Josh on a gurney, then Katie, and loaded them in the ambulance. Then Laura remembered the canister. She got up, looked in the back seat of the car and saw it on the seat. She grabbed it and put it under her arm. Then she scraped the contents of her purse that were scattered on the floor mat back into her bag and hung it on her shoulder. As she stood up, the truck driver steadied her as she walked over and climbed in the rear of the ambulance. He helped her up the steps and she thanked him several times. The truck driver nodded, smiled and slammed the door closed.
Laura squeezed through both gurneys and sat down on a step between the front seats, looking towards the rear. She leaned over and took Katie’s hand and patted it, trying to calm her down. It was apparent that Katie was in a lot of pain.
“We’ll give you something to ease that pain, ma’am,” the EMT said as he readied an I.V. drip. Laura felt the ambulance start moving, heard the siren begin its repetitive squall, and braced herself as it turned around to race back toward the Greenville hospital.
End Chapter 6
“Watch out!” Josh shouted, pointing at the tornado. Katie stifled a scream by putting her hand over her mouth. The hail was creating so much noise on the car’s rooftop that the others may not have heard her anyway.
Laura slammed on the brakes and the tires skidded on the wet pavement, shoving hail in front of them. The anti-lock brakes did the best they could to keep the car from sliding out of control, but the fury of the tornado that was now so close to them had other ideas for the Honda. They were close enough to see debris the funnel was carrying along with it, and everyone thought the car would surely fly away.
Wind was pushing the car to the right during the skid, and as Laura tried to correct it with the wheel, the vacuum created behind the tornado whipped the car to the left. Laura was already steering that direction and the car spun into the grass median separating east and west-bound lanes.
The car bounced hard as it hit the grass sideways, then flipped over on its top. Then rolled again. The tornado was pulling the car with it as it moved along, as if it didn’t want to share the median with the Honda and was determined to move it out of the way.
Katie and Laura were screaming and Josh was making a strange shouting noise as they went topsy-turvy. The sound from the tornado was so loud, nobody could have heard them outside the car.
Josh was knocked unconscious when his head slammed into the passenger side window as the car rolled over. The scuba tank stored on the floor under Laura’s dive gear got upended and bounced around inside the car as it tumbled. As the car came to a stop on its wheels, the tank slammed into Katie’s right thigh, snapping the bone. Laura saw stars as her head hit the driver’s side window two times during the rollover.
Katie screamed in pain as she pushed the tank off her leg. Laura tried to look outside for the tornado, but she couldn’t see anything. The windshield was shattered. She spun around to see if Katie was hurt.
“Katie!” Laura exclaimed. “Are you okay?”
Katie was crying in pain. “No, I think the tank broke my leg! It’s numb all the way down and I can’t feel my right foot!” She bit her lip in an attempt to suppress the searing pain in her leg.
Laura looked out the back window for the tornado but couldn’t see anything through the shattered glass back there, either. Then she looked at Josh, sitting limp inside his seat harness, chin down to his chest and clearly unconscious.
“Oh my God,” Laura said, voice shaking. “I don’t know if the tornado’s coming at us or moving away.” She looked for her purse and saw it on the mat next to Josh’s left foot, the contents on the floor. She unbuckled her seat belt and grabbed her cell phone. Upon opening it she saw there was no signal here.
She jumped when someone knocked on her side window. She couldn’t see who it was.
“Lady! Are you guys okay?” a man shouted from outside.
“We’re hurt! Please call an ambulance!” Laura shouted back, hoping her voice could be heard over the rain and wind.
The man nodded, water pouring off his chin, “I reached someone in Greenville with my CB radio already. They said they’d call 911. Get out of the way, I’m going to try to open this door!”
Laura leaned down on the seat and grabbed Josh’s hand while she waited to see if her door would open. It did. She rubbed Josh’s hand and said, “Josh, wake up! Wake up! Are you okay?”
Josh didn’t stir or make a sound but she could see his chest moving, still breathing.
Her door opened and a big man wearing a Freightliner cap leaned into the car, soaked from rain. He offered his hands to Laura to extract her.
“The roof’s crushed down some! Watch your head when you get out!” the man shouted over the storm.
Laura grabbed his hands and slid out of the Honda. She thanked the truck driver.
“There are two college kids still in the car that are hurt,” Laura told him. “I don’t think we should move them until the ambulance gets here.”
The man peered into the car through Laura’s door.
He nodded in agreement. “I’ll stay here ‘til help arrives,” he offered.
“Thank you so much,” Laura said, trying to smile. Then she got dizzy and almost fell to the ground. The truck driver grabbed her and gently lowered her to the wet grass.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Laura nodded, “I hit my head I think, I’m not sure. It all happened so fast I don’t remember.”
The truck driver said, “I’ll grab my rain coat out of the cab. Be right back. You’re lucky that tornado didn’t kill all three of you!” He ran back to the 18-wheeler, dashing through a couple of cars that had stopped to gawk at the accident scene. When he returned, he opened a big yellow raincoat and spread it over Laura.
She’d been talking with Katie to make sure she was still conscious. Although Katie was in severe pain, Laura thought she was going to be all right. But Laura was worried about Josh, who still hadn’t made a sound.
The storm was lessening in intensity and the sky was starting to lighten up as they heard the ambulance’s sirens approaching. It pulled up on the shoulder of the west-bound lane and two medical technicians hopped out, ran around the back of the ambulance and carried a gurney over to Laura’s car.
“Is anyone seriously injured?” the EMT who had been driving asked.
Laura nodded and the truck driver answered for her, “Yeah. A young man’s unconscious in the front seat and the girl in the back probably has a broken leg.” He looked down at Laura and added, “And this lady here may have a concussion.”
“Okay,” the EMT answered. “We’re going to be crowded but we’ll get all three of you on this run. There’s only one ambulance on call today.”
They carefully extracted Josh on a gurney, then Katie, and loaded them in the ambulance. Then Laura remembered the canister. She got up, looked in the back seat of the car and saw it on the seat. She grabbed it and put it under her arm. Then she scraped the contents of her purse that were scattered on the floor mat back into her bag and hung it on her shoulder. As she stood up, the truck driver steadied her as she walked over and climbed in the rear of the ambulance. He helped her up the steps and she thanked him several times. The truck driver nodded, smiled and slammed the door closed.
Laura squeezed through both gurneys and sat down on a step between the front seats, looking towards the rear. She leaned over and took Katie’s hand and patted it, trying to calm her down. It was apparent that Katie was in a lot of pain.
“We’ll give you something to ease that pain, ma’am,” the EMT said as he readied an I.V. drip. Laura felt the ambulance start moving, heard the siren begin its repetitive squall, and braced herself as it turned around to race back toward the Greenville hospital.
End Chapter 6
ShunZu
member
Chapter 6 - Continued
“Watch out!” Josh shouted, pointing at the tornado. Katie stifled a scream by putting her hand over her mouth. The hail was creating so much noise on the car’s rooftop that the others may not have heard her anyway.
Laura slammed on the brakes and the tires skidded on the wet pavement, shoving hail in front of them. The anti-lock brakes did the best they could to keep the car from sliding out of control, but the fury of the tornado that was now so close to them had other ideas for the Honda. They were close enough to see debris the funnel was carrying along with it, and everyone thought the car would surely fly away.
Wind was pushing the car to the right during the skid, and as Laura tried to correct it with the wheel, the vacuum created behind the tornado whipped the car to the left. Laura was already steering that direction and the car spun into the grass median separating east and west-bound lanes.
The car bounced hard as it hit the grass sideways, then flipped over on its top. Then rolled again. The tornado was pulling the car with it as it moved along, as if it didn’t want to share the median with the Honda and was determined to move it out of the way.
Katie and Laura were screaming and Josh was making a strange shouting noise as they went topsy-turvy. The sound from the tornado was so loud, nobody could have heard them outside the car.
Josh was knocked unconscious when his head slammed into the passenger side window as the car rolled over. The scuba tank stored on the floor under Laura’s dive gear got upended and bounced around inside the car as it tumbled. As the car came to a stop on its wheels, the tank slammed into Katie’s right thigh, snapping the bone. Laura saw stars as her head hit the driver’s side window two times during the rollover.
Katie screamed in pain as she pushed the tank off her leg. Laura tried to look outside for the tornado, but she couldn’t see anything. The windshield was shattered. She spun around to see if Katie was hurt.
“Katie!” Laura exclaimed. “Are you okay?”
Katie was crying in pain. “No, I think the tank broke my leg! It’s numb all the way down and I can’t feel my right foot!” She bit her lip in an attempt to suppress the searing pain in her leg.
Laura looked out the back window for the tornado but couldn’t see anything through the shattered glass back there, either. Then she looked at Josh, sitting limp inside his seat harness, chin down to his chest and clearly unconscious.
“Oh my God,” Laura said, voice shaking. “I don’t know if the tornado’s coming at us or moving away.” She looked for her purse and saw it on the mat next to Josh’s left foot, the contents on the floor. She unbuckled her seat belt and grabbed her cell phone. Upon opening it she saw there was no signal here.
She jumped when someone knocked on her side window. She couldn’t see who it was.
“Lady! Are you guys okay?” a man shouted from outside.
“We’re hurt! Please call an ambulance!” Laura shouted back, hoping her voice could be heard over the rain and wind.
The man nodded, water pouring off his chin, “I reached someone in Greenville with my CB radio already. They said they’d call 911. Get out of the way, I’m going to try to open this door!”
Laura leaned down on the seat and grabbed Josh’s hand while she waited to see if her door would open. It did. She rubbed Josh’s hand and said, “Josh, wake up! Wake up! Are you okay?”
Josh didn’t stir or make a sound but she could see his chest moving, still breathing.
Her door opened and a big man wearing a Freightliner cap leaned into the car, soaked from rain. He offered his hands to Laura to extract her.
“The roof’s crushed down some! Watch your head when you get out!” the man shouted over the storm.
Laura grabbed his hands and slid out of the Honda. She thanked the truck driver.
“There are two college kids still in the car that are hurt,” Laura told him. “I don’t think we should move them until the ambulance gets here.”
The man peered into the car through Laura’s door.
He nodded in agreement. “I’ll stay here ‘til help arrives,” he offered.
“Thank you so much,” Laura said, trying to smile. Then she got dizzy and almost fell to the ground. The truck driver grabbed her and gently lowered her to the wet grass.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Laura nodded, “I hit my head I think, I’m not sure. It all happened so fast I don’t remember.”
The truck driver said, “I’ll grab my rain coat out of the cab. Be right back. You’re lucky that tornado didn’t kill all three of you!” He ran back to the 18-wheeler, dashing through a couple of cars that had stopped to gawk at the accident scene. When he returned, he opened a big yellow raincoat and spread it over Laura.
She’d been talking with Katie to make sure she was still conscious. Although Katie was in severe pain, Laura thought she was going to be all right. But Laura was worried about Josh, who still hadn’t made a sound.
The storm was lessening in intensity and the sky was starting to lighten up as they heard the ambulance’s sirens approaching. It pulled up on the shoulder of the west-bound lane and two medical technicians hopped out, ran around the back of the ambulance and carried a gurney over to Laura’s car.
“Is anyone seriously injured?” the EMT who had been driving asked.
Laura nodded and the truck driver answered for her, “Yeah. A young man’s unconscious in the front seat and the girl in the back probably has a broken leg.” He looked down at Laura and added, “And this lady here may have a concussion.”
“Okay,” the EMT answered. “We’re going to be crowded but we’ll get all three of you on this run. There’s only one ambulance on call today.”
They carefully extracted Josh on a gurney, then Katie, and loaded them in the ambulance. Then Laura remembered the canister. She got up, looked in the back seat of the car and saw it on the seat. She grabbed it and put it under her arm. Then she scraped the contents of her purse that were scattered on the floor mat back into her bag and hung it on her shoulder. As she stood up, the truck driver steadied her as she walked over and climbed in the rear of the ambulance. He helped her up the steps and she thanked him several times. The truck driver nodded, smiled and slammed the door closed.
Laura squeezed through both gurneys and sat down on a step between the front seats, looking towards the rear. She leaned over and took Katie’s hand and patted it, trying to calm her down. It was apparent that Katie was in a lot of pain.
“We’ll give you something to ease that pain, ma’am,” the EMT said as he readied an I.V. drip. Laura felt the ambulance start moving, heard the siren begin its repetitive squall, and braced herself as it turned around to race back toward the Greenville hospital.
End Chapter 6
“Watch out!” Josh shouted, pointing at the tornado. Katie stifled a scream by putting her hand over her mouth. The hail was creating so much noise on the car’s rooftop that the others may not have heard her anyway.
Laura slammed on the brakes and the tires skidded on the wet pavement, shoving hail in front of them. The anti-lock brakes did the best they could to keep the car from sliding out of control, but the fury of the tornado that was now so close to them had other ideas for the Honda. They were close enough to see debris the funnel was carrying along with it, and everyone thought the car would surely fly away.
Wind was pushing the car to the right during the skid, and as Laura tried to correct it with the wheel, the vacuum created behind the tornado whipped the car to the left. Laura was already steering that direction and the car spun into the grass median separating east and west-bound lanes.
The car bounced hard as it hit the grass sideways, then flipped over on its top. Then rolled again. The tornado was pulling the car with it as it moved along, as if it didn’t want to share the median with the Honda and was determined to move it out of the way.
Katie and Laura were screaming and Josh was making a strange shouting noise as they went topsy-turvy. The sound from the tornado was so loud, nobody could have heard them outside the car.
Josh was knocked unconscious when his head slammed into the passenger side window as the car rolled over. The scuba tank stored on the floor under Laura’s dive gear got upended and bounced around inside the car as it tumbled. As the car came to a stop on its wheels, the tank slammed into Katie’s right thigh, snapping the bone. Laura saw stars as her head hit the driver’s side window two times during the rollover.
Katie screamed in pain as she pushed the tank off her leg. Laura tried to look outside for the tornado, but she couldn’t see anything. The windshield was shattered. She spun around to see if Katie was hurt.
“Katie!” Laura exclaimed. “Are you okay?”
Katie was crying in pain. “No, I think the tank broke my leg! It’s numb all the way down and I can’t feel my right foot!” She bit her lip in an attempt to suppress the searing pain in her leg.
Laura looked out the back window for the tornado but couldn’t see anything through the shattered glass back there, either. Then she looked at Josh, sitting limp inside his seat harness, chin down to his chest and clearly unconscious.
“Oh my God,” Laura said, voice shaking. “I don’t know if the tornado’s coming at us or moving away.” She looked for her purse and saw it on the mat next to Josh’s left foot, the contents on the floor. She unbuckled her seat belt and grabbed her cell phone. Upon opening it she saw there was no signal here.
She jumped when someone knocked on her side window. She couldn’t see who it was.
“Lady! Are you guys okay?” a man shouted from outside.
“We’re hurt! Please call an ambulance!” Laura shouted back, hoping her voice could be heard over the rain and wind.
The man nodded, water pouring off his chin, “I reached someone in Greenville with my CB radio already. They said they’d call 911. Get out of the way, I’m going to try to open this door!”
Laura leaned down on the seat and grabbed Josh’s hand while she waited to see if her door would open. It did. She rubbed Josh’s hand and said, “Josh, wake up! Wake up! Are you okay?”
Josh didn’t stir or make a sound but she could see his chest moving, still breathing.
Her door opened and a big man wearing a Freightliner cap leaned into the car, soaked from rain. He offered his hands to Laura to extract her.
“The roof’s crushed down some! Watch your head when you get out!” the man shouted over the storm.
Laura grabbed his hands and slid out of the Honda. She thanked the truck driver.
“There are two college kids still in the car that are hurt,” Laura told him. “I don’t think we should move them until the ambulance gets here.”
The man peered into the car through Laura’s door.
He nodded in agreement. “I’ll stay here ‘til help arrives,” he offered.
“Thank you so much,” Laura said, trying to smile. Then she got dizzy and almost fell to the ground. The truck driver grabbed her and gently lowered her to the wet grass.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Laura nodded, “I hit my head I think, I’m not sure. It all happened so fast I don’t remember.”
The truck driver said, “I’ll grab my rain coat out of the cab. Be right back. You’re lucky that tornado didn’t kill all three of you!” He ran back to the 18-wheeler, dashing through a couple of cars that had stopped to gawk at the accident scene. When he returned, he opened a big yellow raincoat and spread it over Laura.
She’d been talking with Katie to make sure she was still conscious. Although Katie was in severe pain, Laura thought she was going to be all right. But Laura was worried about Josh, who still hadn’t made a sound.
The storm was lessening in intensity and the sky was starting to lighten up as they heard the ambulance’s sirens approaching. It pulled up on the shoulder of the west-bound lane and two medical technicians hopped out, ran around the back of the ambulance and carried a gurney over to Laura’s car.
“Is anyone seriously injured?” the EMT who had been driving asked.
Laura nodded and the truck driver answered for her, “Yeah. A young man’s unconscious in the front seat and the girl in the back probably has a broken leg.” He looked down at Laura and added, “And this lady here may have a concussion.”
“Okay,” the EMT answered. “We’re going to be crowded but we’ll get all three of you on this run. There’s only one ambulance on call today.”
They carefully extracted Josh on a gurney, then Katie, and loaded them in the ambulance. Then Laura remembered the canister. She got up, looked in the back seat of the car and saw it on the seat. She grabbed it and put it under her arm. Then she scraped the contents of her purse that were scattered on the floor mat back into her bag and hung it on her shoulder. As she stood up, the truck driver steadied her as she walked over and climbed in the rear of the ambulance. He helped her up the steps and she thanked him several times. The truck driver nodded, smiled and slammed the door closed.
Laura squeezed through both gurneys and sat down on a step between the front seats, looking towards the rear. She leaned over and took Katie’s hand and patted it, trying to calm her down. It was apparent that Katie was in a lot of pain.
“We’ll give you something to ease that pain, ma’am,” the EMT said as he readied an I.V. drip. Laura felt the ambulance start moving, heard the siren begin its repetitive squall, and braced herself as it turned around to race back toward the Greenville hospital.
End Chapter 6
ShunZu
member
The Cataclysm Scroll - Chapter 7
Roy was just finishing the fried fish his neighbor had sneaked in to the hospital room. Ty was grinning, sitting on the chair next to the bed watching his friend enjoy the catfish freshly caught that morning.
“One helluva lot better than hospital food, for sure!” Roy exclaimed. “Nothing better than freshly caught catfish. I really appreciate it, Ty. Make sure you help yourself to some sweet corn in my patch on the east side of my farm.”
Ty smiled, “Thanks, Roy. I will. And I’ll be sure to step over that little electric fence you’ve got around it to keep out the raccoons.” He chuckled, “Last year I found out the hard way that it’s charged.”
Roy laughed. “I warned you! Gotta have it for the coons, otherwise they’ll strip the field clean.”
Ty stood up and cleaned up the evidence on the tray that fried fish had been the entrée. When he had all the bones neatly wrapped up in a napkin, he put it back in the plastic bag he’d used to get it past the guard.
He held out his hand and said, “I’ve got to go, Roy. I need to see if that storm that just passed through did any damage. On the way here, I heard on the radio that there was a twister that touched down just south of town.”
Roy shook his friend’s hand and said, “Okay, Ty. Thanks again for the fish.
The doc says I should be out of here in a couple days. We’ll have a beer.”
“Sounds good to me!” Ty said. As he was heading toward the door, he turned around and winked at Roy. “Don’t hit on those nurses. I don’t want any bad reports on you!”
Roy was laughing as Ty closed the door on his way out.
As he walked toward the exit, Ty had a sudden urge to stop at the little restaurant for a coke. He didn’t drink much soda, but the thought had crossed his mind that it would taste particularly good right now, before he headed home.
Alice was working the counter. She was the only person that worked there. If Alice wasn’t working, the restaurant was closed. It consisted of three tables and twelve chairs, tucked away in a corner of the hospital. Alice was a jolly old lady that knew just about everyone in town, and had a waistline that looked as if she never threw any food away. ‘Alice’s Restaurant’ was on a little hand-drawn piece of paper hung by scotch tape on the side of the soda machine.
“Hello Ty!” Alice greeted him. “How’s Roy doing?”
“Hey Alice! He’s doin’ fine, mending nicely. Should be back in time for the fall harvest.”
Alice smiled, “That’s great to hear. I sure love him.”
“I think everyone in town does,” Ty nodded agreement.
“What’ll you have today?” Alice asked. “I’m making tacos for lunch, but the meat’s not quite done browning yet. Want to wait?” Alice motioned with her eyes toward one of the tables where a woman was sitting. “That nice lady over there isn’t feeling very well after a car accident, and I promised her that a taco or two would fix her right up.”
Ty turned around and saw only one customer in the little restaurant, a lady sitting at a table by herself. Her expression was one of worry, stress, sadness.
Alice made sure her voice didn’t carry very far, almost whispering to Ty, “You should go over and cheer her up. She said some college kids got hurt in her car this morning when that damn tornado passed through here and flipped her car.”
Ty said quietly, “I heard about that.” He deliberated for a moment, then told Alice, “Okay, I’ll do that.”
Alice handed him the coke and told him there was no charge. Ty insisted she take a dollar anyway. Then he walked over to where the woman was sitting. She looked like she was about 30, maybe a little more, wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt that had the Fighting Illini U of I logo on it. There was a long metal tube of some kind on the table in front of her. She acknowledged him when he reached the table.
“Hi,” she said. “My name is Laura.” She grimaced a little when she smiled, still hurting from the bump on her head.
“Hello, I’m Ty,” he said smiling, extending his arm. They shook hands and Ty asked, “You were in that car accident from the tornado? Are you alright?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “But two students were with me that were hurt. One got a broken leg with multiple fractures that they’re working on now, and the other is still unconscious. I’m really worried about both of them. It’s all my fault.” She motioned for him to sit down.
Ty nodded and took a seat across from her. “Are you with the university?”
“Associate professor of geology,” Laura answered. “We were on our way back to campus after we found this thing.” She motioned with her eyes toward the canister. “I found this underwater in some caves and we were going to show it to the head professor of archaeology at the university. But my car’s totaled and I’m not leaving until I know Josh and Katie are going to be okay.”
Ty was looking at the metal object and offered, “If you need a ride, I’ll be glad to take you. I live just north of here.”
Laura shook her head and said, “Thanks for the offer, but I’m going to take a cab and stay at the motel here in town tonight. The doctors said we should know more tomorrow.”
Ty nodded, “I understand. Well, if you need anything, or if there’s anything I can do to help at all, just shout.” He stood up and smiled, gently shook her hand and excused himself.
Laura returned the smile even though it hurt, “Thanks for the offer, Ty. You’re very nice.”
Ty nodded at Alice on his way out and she was grinned back at him. Everyone in town knew Ty, the local war hero highly celebrated twice; Once upon his return from Desert Storm after being decorated by the President himself, and the second, last month following his acts to save victims of the earthquake and flooding. Alice, nor anyone else in town, really understood why Ty hadn’t taken himself a wife. But Alice felt she had done her part in playing matchmaker, introducing him to no less than eight of the local ladies through the years. “I’m just picky, that’s all,” Ty had told her more than once.
He reached the parking lot and got in his Dad’s old green Cherokee, the vehicle they’d left behind during the fishing trip. It was nearly an antique and had over 260,000 miles on its odometer, but was good on gas and reliable as Hell. He’d learned how to drive a stick-shift on its 5-speed transmission many years before. His Dad had always made sure Ty knew where the extra set of house and car keys were hidden in the barn, and he’d been glad he had listened well upon arriving from St. Louis. He headed home to get busy on the afternoon’s chores. The garden would probably be too muddy from the morning’s storm, but there was lots of other work to keep him occupied.
-7-
Roy was just finishing the fried fish his neighbor had sneaked in to the hospital room. Ty was grinning, sitting on the chair next to the bed watching his friend enjoy the catfish freshly caught that morning.
“One helluva lot better than hospital food, for sure!” Roy exclaimed. “Nothing better than freshly caught catfish. I really appreciate it, Ty. Make sure you help yourself to some sweet corn in my patch on the east side of my farm.”
Ty smiled, “Thanks, Roy. I will. And I’ll be sure to step over that little electric fence you’ve got around it to keep out the raccoons.” He chuckled, “Last year I found out the hard way that it’s charged.”
Roy laughed. “I warned you! Gotta have it for the coons, otherwise they’ll strip the field clean.”
Ty stood up and cleaned up the evidence on the tray that fried fish had been the entrée. When he had all the bones neatly wrapped up in a napkin, he put it back in the plastic bag he’d used to get it past the guard.
He held out his hand and said, “I’ve got to go, Roy. I need to see if that storm that just passed through did any damage. On the way here, I heard on the radio that there was a twister that touched down just south of town.”
Roy shook his friend’s hand and said, “Okay, Ty. Thanks again for the fish.
The doc says I should be out of here in a couple days. We’ll have a beer.”
“Sounds good to me!” Ty said. As he was heading toward the door, he turned around and winked at Roy. “Don’t hit on those nurses. I don’t want any bad reports on you!”
Roy was laughing as Ty closed the door on his way out.
As he walked toward the exit, Ty had a sudden urge to stop at the little restaurant for a coke. He didn’t drink much soda, but the thought had crossed his mind that it would taste particularly good right now, before he headed home.
Alice was working the counter. She was the only person that worked there. If Alice wasn’t working, the restaurant was closed. It consisted of three tables and twelve chairs, tucked away in a corner of the hospital. Alice was a jolly old lady that knew just about everyone in town, and had a waistline that looked as if she never threw any food away. ‘Alice’s Restaurant’ was on a little hand-drawn piece of paper hung by scotch tape on the side of the soda machine.
“Hello Ty!” Alice greeted him. “How’s Roy doing?”
“Hey Alice! He’s doin’ fine, mending nicely. Should be back in time for the fall harvest.”
Alice smiled, “That’s great to hear. I sure love him.”
“I think everyone in town does,” Ty nodded agreement.
“What’ll you have today?” Alice asked. “I’m making tacos for lunch, but the meat’s not quite done browning yet. Want to wait?” Alice motioned with her eyes toward one of the tables where a woman was sitting. “That nice lady over there isn’t feeling very well after a car accident, and I promised her that a taco or two would fix her right up.”
Ty turned around and saw only one customer in the little restaurant, a lady sitting at a table by herself. Her expression was one of worry, stress, sadness.
Alice made sure her voice didn’t carry very far, almost whispering to Ty, “You should go over and cheer her up. She said some college kids got hurt in her car this morning when that damn tornado passed through here and flipped her car.”
Ty said quietly, “I heard about that.” He deliberated for a moment, then told Alice, “Okay, I’ll do that.”
Alice handed him the coke and told him there was no charge. Ty insisted she take a dollar anyway. Then he walked over to where the woman was sitting. She looked like she was about 30, maybe a little more, wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt that had the Fighting Illini U of I logo on it. There was a long metal tube of some kind on the table in front of her. She acknowledged him when he reached the table.
“Hi,” she said. “My name is Laura.” She grimaced a little when she smiled, still hurting from the bump on her head.
“Hello, I’m Ty,” he said smiling, extending his arm. They shook hands and Ty asked, “You were in that car accident from the tornado? Are you alright?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “But two students were with me that were hurt. One got a broken leg with multiple fractures that they’re working on now, and the other is still unconscious. I’m really worried about both of them. It’s all my fault.” She motioned for him to sit down.
Ty nodded and took a seat across from her. “Are you with the university?”
“Associate professor of geology,” Laura answered. “We were on our way back to campus after we found this thing.” She motioned with her eyes toward the canister. “I found this underwater in some caves and we were going to show it to the head professor of archaeology at the university. But my car’s totaled and I’m not leaving until I know Josh and Katie are going to be okay.”
Ty was looking at the metal object and offered, “If you need a ride, I’ll be glad to take you. I live just north of here.”
Laura shook her head and said, “Thanks for the offer, but I’m going to take a cab and stay at the motel here in town tonight. The doctors said we should know more tomorrow.”
Ty nodded, “I understand. Well, if you need anything, or if there’s anything I can do to help at all, just shout.” He stood up and smiled, gently shook her hand and excused himself.
Laura returned the smile even though it hurt, “Thanks for the offer, Ty. You’re very nice.”
Ty nodded at Alice on his way out and she was grinned back at him. Everyone in town knew Ty, the local war hero highly celebrated twice; Once upon his return from Desert Storm after being decorated by the President himself, and the second, last month following his acts to save victims of the earthquake and flooding. Alice, nor anyone else in town, really understood why Ty hadn’t taken himself a wife. But Alice felt she had done her part in playing matchmaker, introducing him to no less than eight of the local ladies through the years. “I’m just picky, that’s all,” Ty had told her more than once.
He reached the parking lot and got in his Dad’s old green Cherokee, the vehicle they’d left behind during the fishing trip. It was nearly an antique and had over 260,000 miles on its odometer, but was good on gas and reliable as Hell. He’d learned how to drive a stick-shift on its 5-speed transmission many years before. His Dad had always made sure Ty knew where the extra set of house and car keys were hidden in the barn, and he’d been glad he had listened well upon arriving from St. Louis. He headed home to get busy on the afternoon’s chores. The garden would probably be too muddy from the morning’s storm, but there was lots of other work to keep him occupied.
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