Chapter 28
WE KEEP THE WINDOWS DOWN, SAYING LITTLE, unnerved by the task
ahead. Sam keeps a firm grip on the wheel as the highway winds through
Virginia.
“You think Six will make it?” Sam asks.
“I’m sure she’ll make it, but who knows what she’ll find.”
“That was a hell of a kiss you two had.”
I open my mouth and then shut it. A minute later I say,
“She likes you, too, you know.”
“Yeah, as a friend.”
“Actually, Sam, she like-likes you.”
Sam blushes. “Sure. I could tell by the way she shoved
her tongue in your mouth.”
“She kissed you, too, dude. I saw it.” I slap him in the
chest with the back of my hand, and I can see he’s
replaying the kiss in his mind. “After I kissed her I asked if
she knew you liked her and—”
We’re jerked over the double yellow line on the road.
“You did what?”
“Dude, relax. Don’t kill us.” Sam glides us back onto our
side of the road. “She said she liked you, too.”
A devilish grin spreads across Sam’s face. “Interesting.
It’s kind of hard to believe this,” Sam finally says.
“God, Sam. Why would I lie about it?”
“No, I can’t believe that this whole thing is real. That
you’re real or that Six is real, or that a hostile race of aliens
has scattered themselves across the planet and nobody
seems to know it. I mean, they’ve hollowed out a mountain
in the middle of the state. How has it not been found? What
did they do with all the dirt and rocks they removed? Even
as scarcely populated as parts of West Virginia are, surely
somebody had to stumble across it at some point. Hikers
or hunters. Pilots of small planes. What about satellite
imaging? And who knows how many other base camps or
outposts or whatever you want to call them they have on
Earth. I just don’t understand how they move about so
freely.”
“I agree,” I say. “I don’t know how either, but something
tells me we probably don’t know the half of it. You
remember the very first conspiracy theory you told me?”
“No,” Sam says.
“We were talking about an entire Montana town being
abducted, and you said the government allowed abductions
in exchange for technology. Remember now?”
“Vaguely. Sure.”
“Well, that makes sense now. Maybe technology has
nothing to do with it, and maybe the government isn’t
allowing abductions; but I really think some agreement has
to be in place. Because you’re right, there’s no way they’re
traveling unnoticed. There are way, way, way too many of
them.”
Sam doesn’t respond. I look over and see that he’s
smiling.
“Sam?” I ask.
“I was just thinking of where I might be at this exact
moment if you guys hadn’t come along. Probably alone in
my basement, collecting more conspiracy theories and
wondering if my dad’s still alive. That’s how it was for years.
But what’s awesome is that I really do believe he’s alive
now. He’s somewhere, John. I know it. And I know it
because of you guys.”
“I hope so,” I say. “It’s pretty cool that Henri came to Ohio
to try to find him, and you and I became friends almost
immediately. It’s like fate.”
Sam smiles. “Or a cosmic aligning.”
“Nerd,” I say.
After a pause, Sam asks, “Hey, John? You’re positive
that skeleton in the well wasn’t my dad, right?”
“Absolutely, dude. He was Loric and huge. Bigger than
any human.”
“What’s your best guess, then? Who was it?”
“I really don’t know. I just hope he wasn’t too important.”
Four hours pass, and finally we see a sign pointing the way
to Ansted, six miles ahead. We fall silent. Sam makes the
turn and navigates a precarious two-lane road that twists up
the mountain until we pass the town’s border. We drive
through it and turn left at the only stoplight in town.
“Hawks Nest, right?”
“Yep, a mile or two down the road,” Sam says, and it’s
there we’ll find the map that Six drew three years ago.
The map is exactly where Six said it would be, hidden at
Hawks Nest State Park, overlooking the New River. Exactly
forty-seven steps down the Gysp Trail, Sam, Bernie Kosar,
and I reach a tree with E6 deeply carved into its side. From
there, we leave the trail, taking thirty steps past the tree to
the right. That’s followed by a hard left turn, and then, a tenth
of a mile away, we see a tree that towers over the others. In
the small gap at the base of its twisted trunk, safely tucked
away in a black plastic box, is the map that leads to the
cave.
We make our way back to the SUV and drive another
fifteen miles, ultimately pulling down a muddy, deserted
road. It’s the closest any road can get us, five miles due
north of the cave. Sam takes the address Six wrote out of
his pocket and puts it in the glove compartment. “On
second thought.” He removes it and puts it back into his
pocket. “As safe as anywhere,” he says.
I drop the Xitharis and some duct tape into Six’s
backpack that she left behind, and Sam slips the bag over
his shoulders. I flip my dagger over in my hand and then
stuff it into my back pocket.
We step out and I lock the doors, Bernie Kosar running
circles around my legs. There’s only a few hours left of
daylight, which doesn’t leave us much time. Even with the
benefit of my hands, I can’t imagine finding the cave without
the sun to help us along.
Sam holds the map in his hands. At its right side Six has
drawn a heavy X. A winding path five miles long connects
the X with where we are now, marked on the map’s left
side. Along the way we’ll skirt a riverbed while passing
various landmarks noted for their physical descriptions, all
of which are carefully marked to keep us on track. Turtle
Rock. Fisherman’s Pole. Circle Plateau. King’s Throne.
Lover’s Kiss. Lookout Point.
Sam and I lift our heads at the same time, and we both
see the rock a quarter mile away with an uncanny
resemblance to a turtle’s shell. Bernie Kosar barks.
“I guess we know which direction to head first,” Sam
says.
And off we go, following the path set by the map. There’s
no trail, nothing that might allude to these mountains having
been trampled by beings of another world, or even by
beings of this one. Once we reach Turtle Rock, Sam spots
a fallen tree that hangs over the cliff side at a forty-five
degree angle, and thus looks like a fishing pole patiently
waiting for a bite. And we hike on, following the trail as the
sun lowers in the western sky.
Each step taken is another chance to turn around and
walk away. But neither of us does. “You’re a hell of a friend,
Sam Goode,” I tell him.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” he replies. And then, “I can’t
stop my hands from shaking.”
After passing King’s Throne, which is a tall slender rock
that looks like a high-back chair, I immediately spot two tall
trees leaning against one another at slight angles, their
branches appearing like arms wrapped around each other
in an embrace. And I smile, for a brief moment forgetting
how terribly scared I am.
“Only one more to go,” Sam says, pulling me back into
the clutches of reality.
We reach Lookout Point five minutes later. All told, the
hike has taken an hour and ten minutes, and the shadows
are long and stretched as the last light of dusk drains away.
Without warning, a deep growl bellows beside me. I look
down. Bernie Kosar’s teeth are flashed, his fur bristling
along his spine, his eyes pointed in the direction of the
cave. He begins backing away from it.
“It’s okay, Bernie Kosar,” I say, patting his back.
Sam and I drop to the ground and lay on our stomachs,
both staring across the small valley at the cave’s almost
indiscernible entrance. It’s far larger than I’d imagined,
probably twenty feet wide and tall, but also much better
hidden. There’s something covering it, a net or a tarp
maybe, making it blend in with its surroundings; you’d have
to know it’s there to be able to see it.
“Perfect location,” Sam whispers.
“Totally.”
My nervousness quickly turns to full-blown terror. As
mysterious as the cave is, one thing I know for sure is that
there’ll be no shortage of things—weapons, beasts or traps
—that could kill us. I could die within the next twenty
minutes. And Sam could, too.
“Whose idea was this, anyway?” I ask.
Sam snorts. “Yours.”
“Well, I have some stupid ideas sometimes.”
“True, but we have to get your Chest somehow.”
“There’s so much in there that I don’t even know how to
use yet … but maybe they do,” I say. Then something
catches my eye.
“Look at the ground in front of the entrance,” I say,
pointing to a smattering of dark objects by the cave’s
entrance.
“At the rocks?”
“Those aren’t rocks. Those are dead animals,” I say.
Sam shakes his head. “Great,” he says.
I shouldn’t be surprised since Six told us about it, but the
sight of them fills me with even more dread, which I didn’t
think possible. My mind races.
“All right,” I say, sitting up. “There’s no time like the
present.”
I kiss the top of Bernie Kosar’s head, then run my hand
down the length of his back, hoping this won’t be the last
time I ever see him. He tells me not to go, and I
communicate back that I have to, no other choice. “You’re
the best, BK. I love you, buddy.”
Then I stand. I take the bottom of my shirt in my right hand
so I can remove the Xitharis from the bag without touching
it.
Sam messes with the buttons on his digital watch, putting
it in stopwatch mode. We won’t be able to read its face
once we’re invisible, but when the hour is up, the watch will
beep—though I imagine by then we’ll have figured it out.
“Ready?” I ask.
Together we take our first step, then a second, and then
we’re hiking down the trail that may very well lead to our
imminent doom. I turn around only once, when I’ve nearly
reached the cave, and see Bernie Kosar staring at us.
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