Carlos was ready to get the hell out of Dodge.
The thrum of the helicopter’s engine rolled over the desert sands. Above him, the rotor turned in a slow arc, powerful enough to kick up small clouds of dust around the copter but not strong enough to hurt someone if they accidentally contacted the blade.
He double checked the readouts on the instrument panel in the cockpit. All systems were on standby; with a few button presses he could be in the air, away from this camp and halfway back to Cairo.
All he needed was his passenger.
After making sure the copter’s systems were active, he’d gone to Michel’s tent and got the man out of bed. He had hoped the news that he could leave the camp would spur the man to actually move as if he cared about something – but he was sorely disappointed. Michel had been “packing” for the last hour – by which he really meant packing as much alcohol in his body as he could hold. The man was a mess.
He toyed with the idea of doing a quick flyby over the camp: just up a couple hundred feet, a quick circle around the obelisk, and back down to the landing pad. Put the fear of God back into the old Frenchman, make him think the last plane out was leaving without him. Plus, he wasn’t entirely convinced the helicopter was at 100% after the storm – some of the readings he was getting were a little odd. But, after a few seconds of thought, he leaned back into the seat and sighed. He wouldn’t be going anywhere – not alone, in any case. The last thing he needed was to be the cause of any more trouble.
Carlos was a man who prided himself on a drama-free life and an easygoing nature. He was a skilled pilot, and his trade allowed him to travel the world, ferrying rich investors and corporate (somethings) wherever they needed to go. It was fun: it paid well, and while he didn’t exactly have a girl in every port there was something about the allure of the sky and travel that ensured he did very well for himself in the romance department, despite some of his shortfalls.
In the distance, Emily and Lark walked a wide circle around the obelisk, the former with her camera flashing every few seconds. He’d hoped to add that girl to his list, and for a few minutes thought he might’ve had a chance. Oh, well. He shrugged. Like he could begrudge her anything. At least someone was having fun.
Something inside of Carlos gnawed deeper every hour he spent at camp. He was a man whose temperament and employment ensured he never encountered a dead end, but there was something about this place that made him think of a brick wall at the end of a long, dusty corridor.
No one had come up from the tomb since Adam stormed off a couple hours ago, vowing revenge on whoever sabotaged the jeeps. Carlos had his fingers crossed that he was in the air before anyone thought to come back up to the surface. He was no good at long goodbyes, and even worse when giving them to people he wasn’t really sorry to be saying goodbye to. He certainly wouldn’t miss Adam, or Lavrans, or those strange silent servants who gave him the fucking creeps.
In the distance, Emily dropped her camera and cocked her head. After a moment, the two took off, running in the direction of the tomb entrance.
What the hell? Carlos stared at the obelisk, as if expecting something to come leaping out from behind it and give chase. With all the other shit going on, he could almost believe it.
As he watched, Lark turned mid-stride and caught sight of him. She yelled something, too far away for him to hear over the whir of the rotors.
“What?” He asked, a hand to his ear, only realizing after a beat how ridiculous he looked.
Lark pointed towards the tomb entrance. They’re not running away, Carlos realized. They’re running towards the tomb.
He flicked a switch and cut off the standby. The rotors sputtered to a stop.
That was when he heard the screams.
~*~
Emily had been photographing the obelisk when the shouting started.
The last few minutes had been some of the most productive of her career: the obelisk was a perfect subject for photography. She walked it in circles, Lark chattering by her side about things she didn’t pay any attention to, getting shot after shot of the monolith. Every one of them was perfect.
If you had stopped her and asked why she was taking so many photos, she couldn’t even have told you. There was no chance that the Geographic would need more than one good shot of the obelisk – everything she was shooting now would only go to waste. It didn’t matter – she wanted more. It looked so perfect, no matter how she looked at it. She got postcard-style shots of it against the desert, long landscape photos of it’s shadow over the dunes, uncomfortable up-close shots.
Lark was still chattering away about some unimportant bullshit – now she wanted to go into the tomb and look for Taylor. How useless. She could go wherever she wanted as far as Emily was concerned: she had twenty gigs of space left on this SD card and all she wanted to do was was to fill them all with Pulitzer-quality obelisk shots.
No, she realized, that wasn’t what she really wanted to do. She wanted to shut Lark up. She wondered how the girl would react if she grabbed her by the neck and threw her against the glossy black surface of the obelisk. Held her there and ran her tongue down her neck while she begged and panted. Grinding into her, and her into it, until she bled like an offering. She knew Carlos was watching them, but he wouldn’t do anything. Maybe she’d even invite him in on the fun.
Yes, she thought, camera clicking, her eye full of the inky black of the marker. That would be a perfect way to spend the afternoon.
Lark’s hand came down on her shoulder, startling her from her reverie.
“What?” she snarled.
The girl took a step backward, eyes wide with shock. “Don’t you hear that?”
She blinked rapidly, letting the camera fall. Now that her tunnel vision cleared, she could hear it – screams, coming from the tomb. Adam’s?
“Shit,” she whispered. “Come on!”
She took off, streaking across the sand with Lark just behind. The girl still had a hurt look on her face; she’d have to apologize later. What was she thinking? Those thoughts seemed like they were coming from someone else, not like her at all – they turned her stomach. Something was wrong with this place.
As they reached the entrance to the tomb, a figure emerged, something heavy slung over his back. It was Adam. Blood streamed down both sides of his neck, leaving a frighteningly large stain on his shirt. He panted with exertion as he crested the top of the steps. It took her a moment to realize the thing he carried was Lavrans.
“Get Carlos!” Adam yelled.
“Oh my God,” Lark said, coming to an abrupt stop. “What the fuck happened to him?”
“Get the helicopter!” Adam grunted with effort, struggling to run in the sand with Lavrans over his back. “This man needs a doctor!”
“Let me help,” Emily said, holding out her hands.
Adam stopped, readjusted Lavrans’ weight, and slid the man off his shoulders. A low moan of pain escaped Lavrans’ lips as he touched the ground. The man was a mass of gore. Everything below the waist was a torn, disjointed mess that resembled raw hamburger. Emily fought back the urge to retch.
Lark’s face was white. She began to stammer. “What-? What-? What-?”
“I found him in the tunnels,” Adam said, grabbing Lavrans under the shoulders and heaving upward. “I don’t know what did this to him. We have to get him out of here – he’s going to die without help.”
It looks like he’s going to die anyway, Emily thought. She looked helplessly at Lavrans’ body, trying to figure out where she could get a grip on him.
“The waist,” Adam suggested. “Get him around there.”
With a grimace, Emily grabbed Lavrans around the waist, carrying him from the side. His body was slick with blood.
“T…Taylor,” Lavrans rasped. “Taylor…”
Adam started. “Did you see Taylor, Lavrans? What did this to you? For the love of God, did it get my sister!?”
The man groaned in pain and fell silent.
Adam shook his head. “Come on,” he said. “Lark, run ahead and make sure Carlos has that damn chopper ready!”
Lark hurried off as if grateful to no longer have to see the wreck Lavrans had become. Emily and Adam made their way across the sand, carrying Lavrans in an awkward embrace between them. Looking backward, Emily saw a trail of blood leading back to the tomb entrance.
“What the hell could have done this?” Adam’s voice cut through her thoughts.
“Isn’t this what happened to your assistant?” She said, slipping against Lavrans’ body. “Maybe he fell into a booby trap.”
Adam went silent.
“There was no booby trap, was there?”
Adam grimaced. “Just shut up and get him to the chopper. Carlos had better have the damn thing ready.”
“There was no booby trap.” she said. It wasn’t a question.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said.
Emily stopped, planting her feet squarely in the sand. Adam jerked to a stop behind her, nearly stumbling and dropping Lavrans.
“What the fuck!?” Adam’s voice rose. “Move, bitch!”
“You lied to me.” Her tone was ice.
“Yes! Yes, okay! There was no booby trap.”
“Once Lavrans is on his way to safety, you and I are going to to sit down and have a long, hard talk about what’s really going on around here,” Emily said. Her fingers were red with blood.
“Okay! Okay, just fucking move already-”
Without warning, Emily stomped off, leaving Adam to hustle to keep up with her. The pair made their way past the Communications Tent to where the copter lay, halfway through the process of spinning up.
“Crazy bitch,” Emily heard Adam mutter.
In front of the chopper, two figures stood, talking animatedly. It was Lark and Michel.
“He’s all fucked up,” Lark was saying. “Look, here they come-”
Adam barreled forward as if he’d just as soon run the two of them over. “Get out of the way!”
It was only then that Emily noticed Michel carried a suitcase in his hand. She realized what Lark must have been arguing with him about.
“So, Adam,” Michel said, unhurriedly, “another accident?”
“If you don’t get out of the fucking way, I’m going to wipe that smirk right off your face!” He advanced, waving Lavrans before him like a truncheon.
In response, Michel simply laughed. “Where was he, Adam? In the lower tunnels, yes?”
Emily was surprised. Not at Michel’s callousness – she expected that. But this did not seem like a man who’d spent all day and the previous night drinking himself into a stupor. Michel seemed more animated than any time she’d seen him since coming to camp. It was as if there was a spark behind his eyes that hadn’t been there before. When he spoke it was with a kind of manic intensity.
“We don’t have fucking time for this!” Lark cried.
“Move!” Adam commanded.
Michel responded with a laugh that seemed more suited to a bad film villain than an aging entrepreneur. “Put him down. Take him to his tent, do what ever you want. Bury him in the desert like the last one. But I am getting on this helicopter, and I am leaving this damned place before it becomes impossible for me to.”
Adam looked like he wanted to do nothing more than drop Lavrans to the ground and pummel Michel senseless. “I swear to God, Michel, if you don’t get out of my fucking way-”
“Carlos is going to bring Jeeps,” Emily silenced Adam with a glance. “You’ll be able to leave as soon as they get here – that’ll be what, another twelve hours?”
“Don’t tell me you’re actually entertaining this bullshit,” Adam protested.
“Just let them both get on!” Lark said. “The chopper can fit them both.”
“Doesn’t work that way,” Adam said, his voice icy cold. It was hopeless – Emily could see that. For him, this wasn’t just about seating – it was about who was really in charge of the expedition.
“Every moment you two spend here in a pissing contest, our friend is bleeding,” Emily snapped. Abruptly she moved forward, Adam following suit.
Michel held up a hand. “Stop right there.”
Emily shook her head. “If we have to fit three on the helicopter, we will. But you are not letting him die here.”
Without warning, Michel pulled a glossy black something from his jacket pocket. It was a gun, snub-nosed and vicious looking.
“Jesus Christ!” Lark exclaimed.
Sweat poured down Michel’s face. His hand shook as it held the gun. “If I don’t get on that helicopter, right now, then I will die. Go back.”
The barrel filled Emily’s vision, opening up as wide as a yawning abyss. She looked past it, at Michel’s pale, flushed face. He stared at her with a curious intensity, as if daring her to take another step forward. As if he wanted her to…
Something clicked in Emily’s mind. She looked past Michel, over his head, past the helicopter. At the obelisk. Towering over them all, staring down like a capricious god.
When she spoke, her voice was completely dead of affect. “Is it in your mind, too?”
He gasped – and lowered the gun.
She sprang forward, her fist connecting with the side of Michel’s head before she knew what she had done. The man crumpled like a cheap card table, dropping the pistol to the ground next to him. Lark stared at her, wide-eyed in shock.
She glanced backward to see Adam holding Lavrans by the shoulders, looking oddly disappointed. “Let’s get him on the chopper,” she said.
With a groan of metal on metal, the copter’s door slid open, revealing Carlos’ head poking out. “What the hell is going on out here?” he asked.
“A little disagreement,” Emily said, rubbing her knuckles. God, that had hurt! The movies made it seem so effortless to hit someone.
Carlos’ eyes slid past her to where Lavrans lay bleeding. “Madre de Dios. We need to move, now.”
Inside, Carlos had already lain a tarp down and retracted the seat Emily had been in on her trip in. They lay the Norseman down gingerly, staunching his bleeding wherever possible with rags Lark had brought from the kitchen.
Satisfied, Adam looked up at Emily. “He looks good to transport.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Carlos! Make this the smoothest ride you’ve ever given.”
From the pilot’s chair, Carlos gave her a thumbs-up.
“That punch back there,” Adam said. “That was really something.”
“Let’s not talk about it,” Emily replied. “I’m sure I’ll be hearing it whenever he wakes up.”
“What was that ‘in your mind’ shit about, anyway?”
Emily paused, mouth open – she had been about to tell the truth. But spilling everything she suspected about the obelisk would be counterproductive at this point: how could he believe her if she didn’t believe it herself?
“Just psyching him out,” Emily said.
Adam smiled. “You did a damn good job. Me and him are gonna have some words before we leave this place – I don’t care how big of a pussy you are, you don’t leave a man to die.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Carlos! Are you ready to leave?”
“On it! Taking off now. Don’t worry about a thing, Emily – as soon as I get back to Cairo, I’m coming back with a whole damn fleet of Jeeps for you!”
That made her smile. “We’ll hang on a little longer. But don’t take too long!”
He shot her a smile and another thumbs up.
She turned to leave when a hand shot up and grabbed her by the shirt. It was Lavrans.
“Taylor…” he whispered, straining with effort. “She isn’t who she seems. Beware…”
Emily looked into his eyes and nodded. “Okay, I will.”
He gave a satisfied grunt and lay back down, passing into unconsciousness. Next to him, Adam stared down at the man with something like horror in his face.
“Did you hear that?” Emily asked.
“Yeah…yeah,” Adam said reluctantly. “We’ll keep that in mind, Lavrans. Come on Em, let’s go.”
The two of them exited the helicopter, jogging to where Lark waited a short distance away. Michel lay curled on the ground in a fetal position.
“You two okay?” Lark asked. “Emily…”
Emily looked down. Lavrans’ fingerprints had left trails of blood across her shirt.
“I’m alright,” she said. “I think Lavrans just might be, too, if Carlos can get him to a hospital.”
“Did he come out of it all? Did he say anything else?”
Emily opened her mouth to respond when Adam cut her off. “No.” She looked at Emily with a confused expression on her face, and the girl gave her a look that said: we’ll discuss this later.
With a deepening thrum, the helicopter’s motors sprang to life. The rotor turned faster and faster until it was a flat blur above the tiny craft. Wind buffeted their clothes and hair.
As if by magic, the helicopter slowly lifted from the ground. Sand traveled from it in all directions, leaving the asphault landing pad as clean as if recently swept. Emily and Lark waved as it gained altitude a foot at a time.
“Good luck,” she heard Lark whisper.
“Hurry back,” Emily added, sliding a hand around Lark’s waist.
Adam scoffed but said nothing.
Next to them, a groaning interrupted their thoughts. Michel opened his eyes, staggering to his feet groggily. He glanced around as if looking for something, then his eyes abruptly went into focus. He looked up at the ascending chopper with a cry of dismay.
“No! No, come back!” he cried, waving his pistol around as if he would shoot it back to Earth. “You cannot leave without me! I am the boss!”
“Jesus Christ, just shut the fuck up,” Adam said flatly. “We’re all sick of it.”
Michel whirled around, the anger in his face turning to sheer horror. He stared at a point directly between Emily and Adam. In unison, the trio turned around.
Taylor stood a few feet away, covered in blood and completely naked.
“Hello everyone,” she said. “Did I miss anything?”
Behind them, there was a sudden whoosh, like a giant pulling in breath to sneeze, then something massive and hot smashed into Emily’s back. She caught a glimpse of the ground roiling beneath her before it came up to smash into her face.
The world went black.
Reading Between Calls 