Return to the lost level, p.4
Return to the Lost Level, page 4
One person who didn’t lament Apok’s passing was Trut. He stood over the corpse, scowling, while everyone else tended to their wounds and scavenged gear from our dead. When he was sure no one else was looking, the old man bent over and spat in Apok’s face. Then he straightened up and noticed me watching him. He twitched with surprise.
“I take it you had no love for him?” I asked.
“Apok?” Trut glowered at me with his one eye. “No, I didn’t. I see no point in lying about it. He was a snake—just like those we’re tracking. Worse than them. I never liked him, even when he was a child. His mother should have strangled him with the birth cord and saved us all a lot of trouble.”
“I didn’t know him well, but that’s the impression he left me with, too.”
I walked over to him and stuck out my hand. Trut shook it. His palm was rough and hard, and he had the grip of a man thirty years his junior.
“You are not a snake, Aaron Pace. I like you.”
“I’m sorry we’ve never had a chance to talk before now. I mean, I’ve seen you around the village, but …”
“Oh, we’ve spoken on occasion. You just don’t remember it. Kasheena’s father introduced us when you joined the tribe. He was my best friend. I knew him since we were boys.”
“Really?”
Trut nodded. “In fact, he’s the reason I look the way I do.”
“How’s that?”
He pointed at Martek and Flik. “We were about their age. Out exploring, as young hunters do. We came upon a nest of fast lizards.”
“Oh shit,” I said. Fast lizards were what the people of the tribe called velociraptors.
“Aye. Indeed. There was a mother perched in the nest, guarding her young. The terrain was rocky and wet, and we were unfamiliar with the area. Kasheena’s father had the misfortune to fall into the nest. I pulled him out just in time, and then the mother jumped me. The babies, perhaps following her lead, did the same.”
He paused, cleared his throat, and spat again.
“What happened?” I asked.
“The mother took my arm off at the shoulder and her offspring chewed on my face before we managed to slay them all.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. I’ve earned many scars since then, in my travels, but these are my favorite, because I got them defending my friend.”
“Your travels?”
He nodded again. “I’ve walked most of this land, exploring—searching for things that would help our tribe. Seeking knowledge.”
“I’ve noticed you speak differently than the others. You almost sound like me.”
He winked with his good eye. “I’ve picked up a thing or two. You’re not the first outsider I’ve met, Aaron.”
My astonishment must have been apparent, because Trut threw back his head and laughed. Until now, I’d had no idea anyone from the village had ever met someone from my world—or a parallel world like it. At that point during my time here, I’d only met one other castaway like me, and he was a cowboy from an alternate level where an apparent zombie outbreak had occurred in the Old West. I’d seen plenty of signs that others like myself had been here—abandoned airplanes, Nazi regalia, a wheelchair, articles of clothing, electronics, weaponry, and even a Jeep fused into the side of a cliff—but the cowboy had been the only living person, and he hadn’t lived for long.
Of course, since then, I’ve met many like myself. One of them will figure into this story, and other stories to follow, provided I have the time and ability to write them all down for you.
Before Trut could elaborate more, the rest of our party gathered around us, looking expectant.
“We are ready, Aaron,” Tolia said.
I nodded. “It’s going to get harder to track them through this forest, and this delay has cost us more time. As long as we’ve got their trail, we’re going to march hard. It might be a while before we break again. Carry only what you need, and keep up. If you fall behind, understand that we can’t wait for you. Everybody clear?”
They nodded and murmured their consent. Martek stepped forward, holding the hilt of my sword out to me.
“You keep it,” I said. “I’m sure you’ll need it again before we’re done.”
“He wielded it well,” Karenk boasted. “The boy cut those snake men down like they were weeds. I had thought to train him, but in truth, he is already skilled.”
Martek smiled, but his expression was that of someone who might be feeling nauseous. He glanced at his feet and then back up at me. I held his gaze.
“Your first time killing?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I’ve killed for food but not … not like today.”
“Remember why we’re doing this,” I told him. “That makes it easier.”
He nodded. “Thank you, Aaron.”
I turned to Tolia. “Who’s our best tracker?”
She pointed at Kert.
“I’m a hunter,” he confirmed, “but Tolia is a better tracker than me.”
“Let’s use you both, then. You two take point. The rest of us will follow.”
Tolia and Kert frowned.
“Point?” Tolia asked.
“He means you go first,” Trut explained.
Tolia turned to me. “Then why did you not just say that?”
I grinned. “I thought I did. The two of you go ahead. We’ll follow behind you at a safe distance, keeping you in sight. That way, you can track our enemies without us messing up the trail, and keep an eye out for any dangers.”
Kert scratched his head. “Keep an eye …?”
“Never mind,” I said. “We’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for. Let’s go.”
We started our march through the forest, following about twenty yards behind Tolia and Kert. In the aftermath of the battle, the landscape was quiet, but as we continued onward, it began to come to life again. Birds chirped and sang above us, insects buzzed and flitted about, and small animals scurried unseen, hidden by the greenery. We had to narrow that distance some as the foliage grew denser around us. Even without Tolia and Kert’s tracking abilities, I was able to follow the Anunnaki’s passage. Broken twigs and flattened ferns and wildflowers were abundant, and the soil and leaves were disturbed by the tromping of many feet. But there were some areas—places where the ground became rockier and covered with stones—that the trail faded. At these times, our trackers would stop and confer, before unerringly leading us on in the right direction again.
We walked for what must have been several hours. It is always difficult to gauge the passage of time here, since the sun never sets, but I know that my feet began to hurt and my thirst grew. There were obvious signs that exhaustion was beginning to impact others among our group. They stumbled and slowed, sometimes straying from the path. Still, none of us dared call a halt. Eventually, I decided it was up to me. I was hesitant to do so, intent on making up for lost time and overtaking the kidnappers, but we wouldn’t be much good if—once we encountered the Anunnaki—we were too tired to fight them.
I gave the order for a quick rest, and nobody argued. Indeed, many of them appeared quietly grateful for the brief respite. Some used the time to relieve themselves behind trees. Others ate and drank. The rest of us simply rested.
Martek and Flik sat with their backs against a tree trunk, legs splayed out in front of them. I stretched my aching joints and then plopped down beside them.
“Are you guys doing okay?” I asked.
They both nodded.
“All these trees …” Martek gestured with a sweep of his arm. “I have never seen their like. I didn’t notice them until after Karenk and I had slain the snake men. Since then, I’ve been unable to notice anything else.”
“Is this the furthest you’ve been from the village?”
“Yes,” Flik answered. “We have hunted on the outskirts, of course. But beyond that … we’ve just heard the stories.”
“Trut told me he’s done quite a bit of traveling.”
“He is different,” Flik confirmed. “More like you than the rest of us. Forgive me any offense, Aaron.”
I smiled. “That’s okay. I know what you mean.”
Martek was still glancing around at all the foliage, his eyes wide with wonder. Then, he leaned forward and squinted off into the distance.
“What is that?”
Flik and I followed his gaze. I saw nothing out of the ordinary.
“What is what?” I asked, reaching for my weapon.
Instead of answering, Martek stood up and walked into the woods, his eyes focused intently. He stopped after about twelve feet and bent down. Then he began digging at the soil with the tip of his sword. Flik and I glanced at each other and then hurried to join him. Karenk and Trut, perhaps spotting the commotion, also wandered over.
“You’re going to dull that blade,” I warned, “and technically, it’s still my sword.”
“Yes, Aaron.”
“Now, what are you—?”
I fell silent. Sticking out of the ground was a black tube made out of what looked like hard plastic. The end of it was tightly capped. Martek continued loosening the dirt around it. Then he grabbed it with one hand, tentatively at first, as if expecting an electrical shock or some other danger. When there was no reaction, he seized the tube with both hands and began to pull. When he had worked it free, he turned the cylinder over, studying it intently.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Let me see.” I held out my hand.
Martek gave the tube to me, and I confirmed that it was indeed made out of durable plastic. I examined it closely, scrutinizing it for markings or a manufacturing stamp, but its black surface was smooth and featureless. It was undamaged, with no weathering, pocks, nicks, or scratches, despite the fact that it had been buried beneath the forest floor for who knew how long. After a moment, I tipped it over. Something rustled inside. I fiddled with the cap. The seal seamed tight and unbroken.
“Everybody move back a few steps,” I cautioned.
Karenk frowned. “Why, Aaron? Is it dangerous?”
“I don’t know. It could be. We don’t know what’s inside. If there is poison gas or some kind of toxin, I don’t want to risk exposing the rest of you. So back away.”
They immediately retreated to a safe distance, their expressions sober and apprehensive. I nodded at them, trying to project confidence, and then took a deep breath and held it. I slowly unscrewed the cap. When it was free and nothing had happened, I peered inside the tube. Then I tipped it over and the contents—a single sheet of rolled up paper—slid into my hand. The others hurried back over to my side, bristling with curiosity.
“What is it?” Flik asked.
I carefully unrolled the brittle, yellowed parchment, which was in much worse shape than its container. The group peered over my shoulder. The rest of our party began to wander over to us, as well.
I frowned. “I think it’s a map, but I don’t recognize any of this.”
An artist of some talent had drawn different topography—trees and mountains and what I assumed must be lakes or some other type of bodies of water—but none of it seemed to match up with our current location. In the center of the map was something that looked like a giant cross, but its top and each of its arms had spheres attached to them. Judging by the scale, the object—whatever it was—must have loomed over the rest of the landscape. Tiny, squiggly lines radiated from it, as if to indicate the cross was glowing or shining or perhaps giving off heat. Written above the cross in faint, delicate penmanship were some Japanese letters that read:
出口
In the bottom right corner of the map, nearly concealed beneath my thumb and scrawled above a cluster of sketched trees, were more Japanese characters.
エントランス
“These markings are Japanese—a language from my world.”
“What do they say?” Karenk asked.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “It’s a different language than the one I speak. Do any of you recognize any of these landmarks?”
They all shook their heads except for Trut, who pointed at the center of the map with one gnarled finger.
“I recognize the sword.”
“Is that what that is? I thought it was a cross.”
“Aye.” He nodded. “It has been many years since I saw it with my own eye, but I’ll never forget it. A giant sword, taller than any tree or mountain, standing in the middle of a great bowl-shaped valley, positioned almost directly beneath the sun. And when it flashes, the light is bright enough to blind you and incinerates anything in the valley. The ash and dust on the ground there are as deep as Karenk is tall.”
“Do you mean when the sun flashes?” Martek asked. “I have never seen that.”
“No, boy,” Trut grumbled. “I mean when the sword flashes. Anything its light touches is instantly turned to dust.”
I frowned. “And you’re sure it’s a sword?”
“I am. Though only a god or a giant could wield it. They say it guards a doorway—the passage from this world to all others. It strikes down any who try to use that door.”
“But when I came here, I didn’t see a giant sword. The doorway I used emerged into a jungle. That was where I met Kasheena and … Bloop.”
“That was an entrance, Aaron.” Trut tapped the map again. “This is an exit. The Lost Level has many ways in, but only one way out—and that way is closed to all of us. The exit is not for us.”
“Then who is it for?”
“I do not know.”
I had no conscious desire to return to my Earth and my reality, yet I couldn’t help but yearn to see it again, if only to glimpse something familiar. I guess it was nostalgia, but instead of thinking about a lover from the past or the halls of high school, I was remembering an entire planet and civilization. It also occurred to me that if Trut was incorrect—if we could, in fact, pass through this exit and travel back here again, I could better equip us against our enemy.
“How far away is it?” I asked. “This valley where you saw the sword.”
Trut shook his head. “More steps than you can count. Your hair would be longer and your beard would be thicker and both would possibly show some gray by the time we reached it. As I said, I was there long ago. I’m not certain I could find it again so easily, even with the help of this map you’ve found.”
Tolia stepped forward. “What are you thinking, Aaron? Your brow is furrowed. What troubles you?”
“I was thinking that if this sword was close, and we could access that exit, I could travel back to my world and get us assistance—better weapons and things like that. But I guess it was a foolish idea.”
“Aye,” Tolia answered, lifting her bow. “It was. I have all the weapon I need here. Combined with the vengeance in my heart, it will do the job. We draw nearer to our loved ones, and I wish to slay more Anunnaki before this march has ended. Shall we continue?”
I nodded. “Yes. Same formation as before. You and Kert in the lead. The rest of us will follow. Everyone gather up your gear.”
The group began to bustle about, doing as ordered. I tugged at Tolia’s arm as she hurried past me. She arched one eyebrow, looking puzzled.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Her expression became even more confused. “For what, Aaron?”
“For being a leader … and a friend. For not being afraid to disagree with me.”
Slowly, she nodded. Then she smiled. “Somebody has to. I am happy to fulfill that role until Kasheena is safely with us again.”
I chuckled as she walked away. Then I carefully rolled the parchment up and slid the map back into its protective case.
“Martek,” I called, holding out the tube. “You found this. It’s only right that you carry it.”
“Are you sure, Aaron?”
I nodded. “Yes. But keep it safe. I’ll wish to study it more when our rescue mission is completed. Okay?”
“You have my word. I shall guard it as I guard your sword.”
We headed out again, back on the trail of our enemies. I walked beside Trut. Our group maintained silence to better safeguard against the dangers of the forest and to conceal our pursuit, but I did pull Trut aside and whisper to him before focusing on our march.
“When this is over,” I said, “I would like to hear more about your travels.”
“It would be my pleasure. Although I should warn you, the tale is quite long.”
I smiled. “I will make the time.”
Lost in my own thoughts as we journeyed onward, I mulled over that statement—making time. What meaning did it have here, in a dimension where time itself was meaningless? Where living beings and artifacts from the past, present, and future existed simultaneously? Where terms like day and night had no meaning, other than in an abstract sense? I wished then that I could control the passage of time in the Lost Level, if only so we could catch up with Anunnaki, and I could be reunited with Kasheena again.
I hoped it wouldn’t be much longer.
Chapter 4
The Old Man and the Dinosaur
Tolia and Kert found the old man while the rest of us were trailing far behind. Deciding to sound the alert, Kert doubled back to our party. I stopped the procession when I saw him hurrying toward us. At first I thought they’d come upon the Anunnaki, or perhaps something big like a Tyrannosaurus, but then I noticed that his expression wasn’t one of fear or alarm. It was more like bewilderment.
“What’s wrong,” I asked, “and where’s Tolia?”
“She is up ahead,” he said, “hidden in the undergrowth.”
“Is everything okay?”
“There is a man …”
“A man? Someone from our tribe?” The possibility occurred to me that perhaps one of the captives had escaped from the reptilians and was fleeing.
“No.” Kert shook his head, and for a moment his expression turned sad. Then that confused look returned. “Someone else. He is … like you, Aaron. But also not like you. And he is old, like Trut, but with more hair and both his eyes.”
