Ancient Echoes (48 page)

The villagers and creatures stood in the midst of the
elements—earth, fire, air and water. They screamed, and tried to run, but
molten rock held them in place as it oozed upward to cover them.

Michael’s gaze met Francis Masterson’s. The man had killed
Lionel, but did it to save not only Michael, but the world from an unknown
horror. But not even Francis could escape his fate.

Francis glanced over at Rachel, standing with Devlin’s arm
around her,
then
he looked back at Michael as his gaze
softened into uneasy peace and resignation. He nodded,
then
shut his eyes.

Michael watched with horror as the earth covering them
hardened into rock, their final screams echoing throughout the valley.

Michael turned towards Abbé Gerard who remained atop the mound
watching the destruction of the world he created. Michael acknowledged, if only
to himself, they couldn’t have survived without him.

“Abbé Gerard,” Michael shouted, “you don’t need to die.
We’ll find a way!”

“It is not possible. I have had far more than my share of
life.” Tears lined Abbé’s face as he looked at the earth, the sky, one last
time. “I have seen unimaginable changes in this world, far more than any
alchemist ever dreamed of. And they were developed by man, not by magic. I am
sad to leave, but some things are not possible to undo.” Then, with a strange
little smile on his lips, he added, “Man can subvert nature, but never improve
it. Remember that, Michael. Always, remember that.”

The ground quaked more violently and rocks and trees tumbled
around them.

The ancient, parched pages of
The Book of Abraham the Jew
caught fire. Before their eyes, the being who was once Abbé Gerard began to
age, his body dried and shriveled. A great whirling tornado of fire rose up,
lifting the book and the Abbé high over the earth. At that moment, like a great
whale coming out of the ocean, the mound itself began to rise from the earth,
to swell, like a terrible malignancy.

As the book burst apart in a fiery blast, the Abbé’s body
rocked and exploded into a turbulent vortex. The mound split open creating a
wide, deep chasm. The men of the Secret Expedition, the chimeras, the pillars,
and the charred remains of the Abbé and the book fell into the earth.

 Finally, as the last echo of the blast drifted away,
the vortex collapsed upon itself.

When it settled again, the land lay flat, and all evidence
of the terrors they had witnessed were gone.

With balance restored, the earth became perfectly still.

o0o

Rachel, Devlin, and Brandi, with Jake and Charlotte supporting
Michael, walked silently away from the area where the mound and pillars once
stood.

After a short while, Jake stopped and unclipped the
satellite phone from his belt and turned it on. Welcoming and welcomed lights
flashed. He punched in a number and waited, then tried again. For a while, they
heard nothing, but then a faint, crackling sounded, and a voice answered.

“Telichpah Flat Station.
Hello? Is
anybody there? This is Deputy Mallick. Can you hear me?”

“Mallick,” Jake said with a chuckle. “I've never heard a
voice so beautiful!”

“Sheriff!
Holy crap! Where the hell
are you? We thought you were dead!”

“We've got three of the kids...Rachel, Brandi, and Devlin.
Charlotte Reed and Michael Rempart also made it. All the others are dead. We
could sure use a helicopter and paramedics, Deputy. I'll give you the
coordinates.”

“Thank God three of the kids were saved! We had given up all
hope for them, and for you, too! This is a happy day, Sheriff!”

“Yes, Deputy,” Jake said wearily, gazing back at the survivors.
“It certainly is.”

When Jake hung up cheers and tears erupted in thanks for
their impending rescue and return to civilization, as well as sadness for those
they lost.

“How will anyone ever believe what happened?” Rachel voiced
the question on all their minds.

“They won’t,” Jake’s words were harsh, solemn. “They’ll
investigate.
Point suspicion.”

“We’ve got to tell them something,” Charlotte said. “How can
we explain? Plus, you and Michael have been shot!”

“We can blame gunshots on stumbling across drug runners or
pot growers trying to hide from the law,” Jake said. “But as for the
students…whatever we say, we’ll all have to agree on it. Anyone who tries to
explain what really happened out here will end up in a rubber room.”

“A flashflood,” Michael barely managed the words. “Before we
found Rachel, Brandi, and Devlin, the others were lost, swept down to the
Salmon River. That will explain why there are no bodies.”

Michael shut his eyes from exhaustion and pain as Jake
looked at the others. One by one, they nodded. “That’s our story, then,” Jake
told them, “and it makes sense. There’s a reason it’s called the river of no
return.”

THE NEXT MORNING the governor
dispatched a private plane to Salmon City to pick up the students, media, and
anyone else who wanted a quick trip back to Boise after the grueling ordeal.

Jake went to the airfield to see them off. Rachel’s and
Devlin’s parents met them there, having ridden up as part of the governor’s
group. Brandi’s parents flew in on their own plane to take her home with them.
All the thanks Jake received from parents made him uncomfortable. He looked for
Charlotte and Michael, but found neither.

As quickly as he could, he said his good-byes, got hugs from
the students, and hurried to Salmon’s emergency medical facility. All the
survivors had been brought there to be checked over when they arrived late the
night before. The doctors insisted Michael stay, while the state provided the
others motel rooms with baths, clean clothes, and lots of food. After Jake’s
gunshot wound had been tended to, he spent the entire night being debriefed,
and pretty much cut off from everyone else. He worried that Michael may have
taken a turn for the worse.

Instead, he learned no one knew where Michael went. His
doctors expected him to transfer to a hospital in Boise, but a mysterious young
Chinese fellow showed up and whisked him out of the medical center before dawn.
By the time a furious Homeland Security agent arrived, they were both long
gone.

Charlotte hadn’t been seen at the hospital either. She might
have left with Michael, but Jake found it hard to imagine her leaving without
at least saying goodbye. He went to the motel only to learn she hadn’t used her
room the night before.

It made no sense. He could only think of one other place she
might be, if still in the area. He drove like a crazy man out to the Forest
Service cabin Simon Quade used.

She closed the trunk of her rental car as he skidded to a
stop on the driveway. She was alone.

She looked happy to see him, but at the same time troubled.
He limped toward her, the bullet wound mending but still painful. “You aren’t
taking the plane back?”

“No. Fortunately, Michael’s friend, Li Jianjun, found me as I
left the clinic last night. He advised me to stay out of sight of any law
enforcement types until everything involving some murders in Israel was
settled. He’ll see that the FBI receives some evidence that implicates Calvin
Phaylor. I don’t mind hiding out for a month or two. I was tempted to stay
here, but I’m sure the Forest Service will come back to it eventually. You
won’t turn me in, will you, Sheriff?”

He stood close, one hand on the top of the car to help
support himself. “Not to worry. I've said all I have to say on this subject to
the authorities, the press, and everyone else.”

“I know what you mean.” She gave him a lopsided smile.
“Ironic, isn't it? I've found the story of a lifetime for both US historians
and anyone interested in alchemy, and I can't tell it. No one would believe it,
and it isn't the sort of thing I want the parents of all those students to have
to live with, or Melisse's little daughter.”

He nodded. “True.”

“Years from now, when you're old and gray and living in
these mountains and no longer care if you're called a crazy old sheriff, you'll
certainly have a story to tell.”

“If I stay,” he said, and glanced out over the mountains.
“It's beautiful here, but the winters are long and lonely. At least that's what
I'll remind myself when people start throwing blame around for so many deaths.
Especially since I won't be able to tell them what really happened, I might not
even have a job when it's all said and done. Maybe I'll leave before they ask
me to.”

“So many deaths,” Charlotte said. “So many lives
taken,
and the lives of those who loved them forever
shattered.”

Jake nodded. “The public will never know.”

“It’s for the best,” she said, and walked to the driver’s
door, car keys in hand. Before she opened it, she faced him. “I’m sorry it
turned out this way for you.”

He shrugged. “I came up here to
retire from the world, from people. And look at what I walked into.”

“You'll do well wherever you go,”
she remarked, her face as serious as ever. “Where will you go, Jake?”

“I don't know. A part of me hates
the idea of leaving. No matter what, this is home.” His gaze swept the a
rea,
then
returned to her. “What about you, Charlotte?
Back to Customs?”

“To look for art and antiquities forgeries after I've found
the ultimate antiquity treasure? It's going to be very hard to do my job after
that. So, I don't know either.” Her troubled blue eyes met his, and she stepped
closer to him. “I guess I could return to Jerusalem to finish my Ph.D., but
academic life no longer holds any appeal, I’m afraid. It would be finishing
what I started, which makes sense, but at the same time, I can’t help but feel
that would be going backward, not forward.”

Washington D.C. or Jerusalem.
He could never compete with all that, and knew better than to try. “I have
never known a woman so serious or so focused on what’s logical, scientific and
rational. Tell me, what you would most
like
to do?”

“What I’d most like?” She thought a moment.
“To what purpose?”

He shook his head, and grinned at her. “For the purpose of,
I don’t
know,
who you are? What you’re all about?
Maybe even your very own brand of happiness?” He turned serious, and placed his
hands on her arms as he quietly added. “You deserve it, you know.”

That took her aback. “Well, in that case,” she said,
regarding him closely, brows furrowed as she contemplated his question, “I
think that to be somewhere with a big soaking tub, a soft bed, good books, and
lots of peace and quiet would be rather pleasant.” Her expression eased, and
with some hope in her voice, she added, “It might even be a place to begin to
build some new memories. Good ones.”

He saw the shine in her eyes, heard a lilt in her voice, but
didn’t want to believe it. He dropped his hands. “That's all you want?” he
asked, wary now.

“Isn’t it enough?” Her voice caught.

His mouth went dry. “There's a house in Salmon that has
that.
My place.
You can use it if you'd like. I
mean...I've got a guest room. I'm not suggesting...not that I wouldn't want...I
mean…” He stopped then.

The two studied each other but said nothing as they held
their respective breaths.

She spoke first. “The long winter is just about here,” she
said, still serious. “And two bodies are warmer than one. That could save a lot
of money on the heating bill, especially if we're both unemployed.”

A grin played on his lips. “Charlotte Reed, did you just
make a joke?”

A slow smile spread over her face, one that broadened as she
threw caution aside and put her arms around his neck and pulled him close. “I
think I could get the hang of this ‘fun’ business.”

“So do I, Charlotte, so do
I
.” As
their lips met, her arms tightened and he crushed her to him. He had no idea if
what they had found would last, but knew they would take it day by day, build
on what they shared, and value those areas where they differed. Finally each
could put aside the ugliness of the past and move toward the future. He hoped
with all his heart they would face it together.

Goa, India

MICHAEL REMPART WALKED alone through
the narrow streets of the former Portuguese settlement of Old Goa to an
imposing black granite and basalt basilica. His left
arm was
weak and limp
while his shoulder and back still ached from the bullet
that might have killed him.

For one month, his friend and assistant, Li Jianjun, stayed
by his side, diligently watching over him as his body mended. Once he healed,
Jianjun returned to Vancouver.

Michael spent much of his time soul-searching since he left
Idaho, and contemplating all he learned about life, death, what lies beyond the
grave, and about himself. He feared that a normal life, a life rich with love,
marriage, and children would never be his, but for the first time he could
think of the woman he had loved but lost without bitterness, and with peace for
what they once had known. And as he thought of the loving, beautiful ethereal
being from another age
who
had saved his life many
times, he knew he would carry the memory of her forever in his heart.

Lady Hsieh—Lin—had been right about many things, but never
more than when she said that what he sought was in this world, but not of it.
He had learned that, in the endless process of transformation, nothing was
destroyed. Death was not destruction, but merely dissolution. In dissolving all
things, the cosmos also renewed them. There was fulfillment in life; throughout
the whole recurrence of eternity nothing existed that had not lived. He read
that Hermes Trismegistus had once said,
‘For there never was any dead thing
in the cosmos, nor is there, nor will there be.’
He believed it.