The nephilem, p.6
The Nephilem, page 6
Solomon spoke for both of them. “This is Hyena; sorry Hyienna, Sarah’s cousin. He’s headed to the Green Lizard. Hyienna, meet my bro, Seth.”
Seth shook Hyienna’s hand firmly but not too hard, even though it was a bit awkward. “Hyienna. I heard you were coming. The Lizard’s a good spot and Yaz will look after you.” Seth’s voice was as deep as his biceps were wide and he was clearly not a man to be trifled with.
One of the first details Hyienna noticed was the large hammer of God tattoo on Seth’s right arm. Picked out in intricate Celtic knot work, its impact was lessened as the black ink produced little contrast to Seth’s own dark skin. However, rather than hiding the needle artist’s fine work, that lack of contrast left the impression that Seth’s body art was as much an integral part of him as the large limb it adorned. It was as though he’d always worn that statement on his arm, and it did not escape Hyienna’s attention that the big man didn’t seem to be sporting any other body art or piercings. That suggested the tattoo was something special, something meaningful; a clear statement standing alone, rather than a single sentence lost in an incoherent hotchpotch of overlapping imagery. That single tattoo suggested a single-minded man, but although Seth was an intimidating figure, he did not project the immediate confrontational challenge of Solomon. Clearly a man with little to prove, Seth might be a great guy or a total jerk; there just wasn’t enough information to make any kind of judgement.
With the introductions complete, Hyienna turned back to contemplating the darkened countryside through his smoked window and Seth settled back into his own seat, seemingly oblivious to the remarkable and perhaps even miraculous artefact hidden right beside his feet.
Seth’s arrival seemed to suck all the energy out of the atmosphere, leaving it brittle in a way that made speech seem somehow impolite and even inappropriate.
The short journey to the Green Lizard was conducted in silence.
HYIENNA FOUND IT DIFFICULT to sum up the Green Lizard in one word when he first clapped eyes on it. Craphole was his first impression, although he quickly realised, he was way off the mark as they got closer.
As they pulled into a dusty car park, it was clear that the Green Lizard had decided that its future was firmly rooted in the past, leading Hyienna to quickly revise his assessment of what turned out to be a little slice of rustic heaven as he clambered out of the air-conditioned Range Rover. Although his trip had been as comfortable as could be, he was nevertheless relieved to be back in the real world so to speak, with his otherworldly burden close at hand. Despite the obvious friction it had caused, he immediately knew his decision to stay elsewhere had been the right one.
Perched on a small rise overlooking the glittering ocean, this place was far more...connected to the world in a way that Sarah’s beautifully appointed home was not. The rustic looking building had probably hosted fishermen, travellers, pilgrims and bandits over the years, although, like many buildings in the region it seemed to be of an indeterminate age.
Hyienna watched with interest as the two big men clambered out of the car, seemingly not bothering to lock it as they headed inside. Hanging back to get the vibe of the place and also to recover his bags, Hyienna was immediately charmed by the Green Lizard’s faded holiday charms. He immediately knew this was where he was meant to be, in readiness for the next stage of whatever journey or pilgrimage he’d stumbled into.
Just a short drive from the main road on the island’s south side, the Green Lizard was nonetheless very quiet with no immediate neighbours. Smart chrome napkin holders glinted on half a dozen well-scrubbed Formica tables as they waited patiently for hungry visitors. A couple of soft drink machines lurked beneath a sun-bleached canopy festooned with fairy lights and wind chimes that twinkled and tinkled in the warm afternoon breeze.
It was hard to tell if the place was actually open for business, although Solomon and Seth seemed to have no such difficulties as they wandered straight through the brightly painted yet faded front door.
Hyienna noted an ageing but serviceable looking payphone on the wall as he stepped into the cool and somewhat dim interior of the Green Lizard Tavern. He immediately knew it was much more like his kind of place, with worn quarry tiles and a jumble of mismatched but scrupulously clean tables scattered around a small yet well-stocked central bar. He nodded to a couple of older locals talking over some sweating glasses of beer as the incomparable smell of home cooking permeated the atmosphere, adding to the Lizard’s informal, lived in and welcoming feel. It was the polar opposite to Sarah and Solomon’s immaculate show house, which although impressive, had made him nervous to even stand on a rug or sit on a sofa for fear of wrinkling some of those sumptuous fabrics.
That general feeling of informality seemed to affect everyone as they crossed the threshold, with Solomon unexpectedly reaching out to hug a woman who Hyienna assumed was the owner, or manager or something. Clad in a billowing and loose-fitting green dress, she clearly enjoyed Solomon’s embrace, her fingers splaying around the back of his neck and head with an intimacy more intense than that of a simple friend.
Seth somehow perched his large frame on a narrow stool and reached into a small fridge at the end of the bar. Retrieving a cold bottle of beer, he briefly raised it in the owner’s direction before twisting off the cap and taking a long swig. Hyienna didn’t see him hand over any cash although he figured that places like the Lizard still ran on an informal tab system.
Finally breaking his long embrace, Solomon gestured for Hyienna to come over. “Yaz, this is Hyienna, Sarah’s cousin from Ibiza. Hyienna, meet Yasmina, owner and manager of the Green Lizard Tavern. Best food, best beer and best beds this side of the island.”
Yasmina smiled at Solomon before stepping forward and offering her hand. “Just call me Yaz. It’s so nice to meet you, Hyienna. Any kin of Sarah’s is welcome here.” There was a genuine warmth to her manner and speech, although there was also another, more elusive quality that Hyienna couldn’t immediately put his finger on. He began to wonder if there was something in the local water as Yasmina was also attractive, although there was an aspect to the earnestness of her demeanour that made him wonder about her. She and the Green Lizard obviously belonged together, and he could easily envisage a grainy image of her younger self popping up in some random photo taken at Woodstock...or with the Manson family.
Hyienna felt an immediate connection with Yasmina, although it wasn’t really based on any kind of physical chemistry. It was more of a kinship of shared experience as he saw how sadness and sorrow had dulled those once bright and enquiring eyes. Yasmina could still put on a good show if she chose to, but a more guarded and cautious spirit now dwelled where once carefree abandon had been everything.
He realised he’d better say something rather than just smiling and staring. “Thanks, I appreciate it. Do you have any rooms? I’m thinking of staying for a few days.”
There was that brightness, like a switch being flicked on when Yasmina felt needed. “Sure! Sarah phoned ahead and we’ve got you the presidential suite overlooking the ocean. Are you hungry? I can fix you something real nice, Mina and I are quite the cooks even though I do say so myself.”
Before Hyienna could respond, Yaz called through a doorway and a young woman emerged in a cloud of good smelling steam. “Ermina, say hello to Sarah’s cousin, Hyienna.”
Ermina, who was younger and obviously related to the tavern’s owner, beamed an excitable smile as she stepped forward to greet him. “It’s so great to meet you, even though I thought you’d have been staying at Solomon’s place.” She glanced across to where Solomon and Yasmina had taken up position on either side of the bar.
Hyienna made his excuses. “Well, I don’t know how long I’m gonna be staying and I don’t want to be a burden to anyone.”
Ermina glanced at Hyienna’s lack of luggage. “Travelling light?”
“Yeah, I don’t need much, and I figured I could pick up anything else I might need while I’m here.”
Not deterred, Ermina glanced over his shoulder. “No car?”
Rescue came from an unlikely quarter as a Solomon chipped in. “Poor guy got a flat so he left his ride at our place. Now I know you girls are going to take good care of Sarah’s kin, which pretty much makes him my kin too.”
Again, Hyienna noticed Yasmina’s hand on Solomon’s arm as she spoke. “Don’t worry; you have the best room in the tavern, probably the best room on the island. We don’t advertise and we like to keep things low-key.”
“Just the way I like it.” Hyienna confirmed.
Seth said nothing, merely sat quietly drinking his beer. For such a big guy he made a good job of being inconspicuous.
At last, Ermina changed the subject. “You hungry? I can rustle you up some ham and eggs or maybe a burger. It’s a little early to start on the dinner menu.”
Hyienna avoided the trap of asking whether there would be anyone around to order from the dinner menu. “I’ll just have a beer for now, thanks.” He picked up his bags and made his way to what he considered to be the best seat in the house. It was a small table around the corner from the bar and just beneath a small window with a brightly painted frame. It had been one hell of a day and he just needed to unwind and sit quietly for a while. He had an awful lot to think about and he couldn’t figure out how he should feel about the first day of his Formentera adventure. To say it had been a rollercoaster was an understatement, and in truth he was feeling more than a little lost and overwhelmed.
He flopped into a worn but surprisingly comfortable wooden chair and shrugged off his jacket, enjoying both the warmth of the afternoon sunshine through the window and the coolness of the shadows beneath the table. Hyienna knew straight away that he’d fallen on his feet in terms of accommodation as he gazed out through those small glass panes. He could see the glittering Mediterranean as well as a sweeping curve of sandy beach as it took a sharp turn towards some sort of inlet that vanished behind a nearby clifftop. That stretch of coastline was much like the tavern, being devoid of tourists and locals alike. In fact, he could only see one solitary figure standing down there on the beach, although he couldn’t decide whether it was a local resident or some kind of visitor.
Hyienna jumped as Ermina appeared with his order, and never was a cold beer more greatly appreciated. “Quiet here.” He remarked as she turned to leave.
“That’s just the way we like it. We do get a few tourists passing through, mostly backpackers, although the bulk of our trade is local.”
He thought it impolite to ask how the tavern could make ends meet, after all there must be a thousand things he didn’t know about the place and how it worked. Instead, he just nodded and stared out of the window once more, playing a game in his head as he began inventing backstories for the lone figure standing on the beach. Maybe he was a famous writer escaping from the pressures of the world and dedicating himself to his next book, like the beginnings of so many good and mediocre horror movies. Maybe he was a retired intelligence operative, burying himself in the middle of a sunny nowhere as he tried to forget the things he’d done in the service of civilisation. Hyienna speculated that the lone figure might be some unconventional but brilliant sports trainer, come to test out some ground for his latest protégé to train in secret.
Ermina interrupted his daydreaming as she leaned across and looked out of the window. “Something cool out there?” She quickly lost interest as the man on the beach turned and walked slowly away. “That’s just Nathanial, don’t worry about him.”
“Local guy?” Hyienna asked, before wondering why he was inquiring about a random stranger standing on a deserted beach, although he remembered it was the same name he’d heard on Kate’s lips when he’d arrived at Sarah’s house. It was probably just one of those odd coincidences, although he couldn’t shake the feeling that the mysterious figure on the beach was somehow intertwined with whatever the hell kind of mystery, he got himself wound up in.
Ermina sounded far less interested. “Yeah, kind of. Not sure if he was born here, although I heard somewhere that he’s some kind of orphan; grew up in a church or something. I don’t know, anyway, he keeps himself to himself and he’s a bit of a strange one if you ask me.”
Hyienna looked at the suddenly deserted coastline as Ermina joined the small group at the bar and loudly relayed the news that she’d seen Nathanial on the beach again.
It wasn’t really Hyienna’s intention to eavesdrop, but the place was so quiet that he couldn’t help but overhear the conversation taking place over the bar. He was no expert on psychology or body language, but from what he could see it was pretty obvious that Yaz and Solomon were good, good friends. He felt an immediate surge of anger when he thought of his little cousin being betrayed by a guy who was, frankly, more than a bit of a misogynist and a boor in the truest sense of the word. His first instinct was to raise the subject with Sarah, but then the pebble in his pocket and a sip of cold beer counselled caution. He didn’t really know a single soul on the island, and certainly not anyone whose discretion he could rely on. Besides, Sarah had been happy to let her fiancé walk all over him in front of company, which made him wonder about the whole thicker than water idea.
The more he considered his position, the more Hyienna realised he was just a stranger who’d dropped into the lives of a bunch of people who’d known each other for quite a while. They had no reason to trust him and he sure as hell didn’t know who he might trust in return. All he knew for sure was that his reunion with Sarah had not gone even close to the way he’d planned it, plus he’d ended up in possession of something that at least appeared to not be entirely of this world. Although the thing in the rucksack resembled a large piece of cloth, the word blanket just didn’t seem to do it justice, whatever it was. Eventually he settled on the word artefact, much more fitting description, not that he was in a hurry to describe his discovery to anyone.
As he sat back in his chair and drank his beer, Hyienna came to the unexpected realisation that, probably for the first time in his life, he understood what the word faith really meant. He had no idea of what he should do tomorrow or even for the rest of the current day, so he had little choice but to have faith that the mysterious artefact would make its purpose known somehow. Besides, the Green Lizard’s quiet rustic charm was like a soothing balm for his soul, calming his mind and settling his spirit in a way he’d not known for many a long and difficult year. Despite all the little intrigues and petty human jealousies, Hyienna knew that fate, Providence or whatever else it might be called had brought him to this place for a reason. He instinctively realised that reason would never reveal itself before the appropriate moment. That meant he had time enough to enjoy a beer, discreetly take in the gossip and have faith that his adventure would unfold in the fullness of time.
CHAPTER 4
Extended Absences
A rolling cloud of mist slowly melted and became a curtain, while a distant murmur of profundity slowly faded into the soft song of a Balearic breeze. Hyienna blinked rapidly as he desperately tried to capture the memory of that other place, lingering between the waking world and somewhere strange that sort of felt like a dream.
She was there again, the old woman, haunting those silent dark hours like a spectre of doom from some Dickensian ghost story. She always spoke, but Hyienna could never quite recall what she’d said by the time he’d fully woken. The notepad beside his bed was of little help as dawn’s pale shadows quickly fled once the veil of the night was melted by the morning sun.
Hyienna rolled over and scribbled that thought down, even though it wasn’t strictly speaking a part of his dream. He blearily flicked through the pages of his notebook, trying to discern some pattern or flash of inspiration from the catalogue of fleeting impressions that had haunted him since his arrival on the island. It had only been a few days, but he couldn’t escape the nagging feeling that the topsy-turvy world of his nocturnal subconscious was a lot more clued in than the rest of him.
He sat up, his eyes immediately focusing on the battered antique wardrobe in the corner of his rustic yet very comfortable and homely room. There was an odd unreality to the idea that the greatest mystery of his unremarkable life rested quietly in a dark corner, just behind a couple of shirts and a pair of jeans he’d managed to bring across from Ibiza. Once again indecision paralysed him as he studied the patterns of the early sun as it dappled the room through cracked shutters and shifting curtains. What was stopping him? Why didn’t he just march across his own room and pull that innocuous looking rucksack out into that bright Mediterranean morning? There was nothing and nobody to stand in his way, save for the frisson of fear that froze his very soul when he considered the unearthly mystery waiting in the wardrobe. He had no rational explanation for his ideas, but Hyienna instinctively understood that it was forbidden, declared strictly off-limits by some unwritten edict, decreed by some higher authority that he didn’t really want to consider too closely. Although the old woman had specifically given him the...thing, he knew he was merely a messenger, a caretaker, a courier tasked to take whatever the hell it was on the next leg of wherever the hell it was travelling to. Deep down, he already knew that the idea of a destination had no place in meditations on such an impossible darkness. This was something eternal, like the tides, the moon and the sun; it was something fundamental to everything a man could know, yet every contemplation revealed nothing that could be grasped by mere plodding rationality. The thing in the wardrobe was everything, yet it explained nothing. Despite the impenetrable metaphysical mystery in his charge, Hyienna was certain of one thing; he knew full well that endless spirals of introspection and speculation were the sure road to ruin, especially for him.
He was more than glad when the sounds of mundane humanity saved him from the supernatural when he heard a car approaching. Without really knowing why he was hiding, he rolled out of bed and stood beside the peeling balcony shutters, peeping out as soft chiffon curtains swayed in the warm Balearic wind.
