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Authors: Christopher Cartwright
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that she was completely vulnerable.
Up ahead she
thought she could hear something other than the sound of turbines. It creaked
and cracked, as an open fire would. Slowly she progressed, walking ten or so
feet and then stopping to listen. Her ears sensitive to the slightest change in
sound, and expecting to hear someone come out to grab her at any moment, Billie
clenched her fists.
But no one came
for her.
She continued
walking through the passageway. It was long. Much longer than any submarine
she’d ever been on, not that she’d been on many. Still she expected that
whatever type of submersible she was aboard, required hundreds of people to
sail – but despite walking for several minutes now, she’d seen no evidence of
anyone.
I’m on a
deserted ghost ship?
Billie wasn’t
immediately certain that she preferred that any more than discovering it was
swarming with submariners. At least then, she’d have answers. Besides, if they
didn’t let her die in the first place, that meant they needed her alive.
Determined to
take control of the only thing left to her, she decided not to continue
slinking around quietly like a cat in an alley.
She whistled
loudly.
The sound echoed
through the empty hull.
“I’m awake! You
may as well come out. I know you don’t want to kill me, or else you wouldn’t
have dressed my wounds. So come out!”
There was no
response.
A thousand tiny
prickles teased the nerve endings of her skin. Perhaps she really was on a
ghost ship. But why? Why go through the trouble of abducting her – healing her
– only to abandon her below the surface of the ocean?
No, someone
will come.
But they didn’t,
so she continued walking through the passageway. Although narrow, it had nearly
six feet of head room above. That meant she was most likely on an American sub
– after all, no other navy in the world believed in such luxuries for its
sailors.
At the end of the
room, she saw an old man who most likely was nearing his early eighties. He
was sitting and reading a book in a recliner chair. Next to him was a large
heat light, built to look like a fire.
It crackled, like
a real fire.
The man smiled
warmly, but did not stand up as she approached.
“Hello Dr. Swan.
I was hoping you’d wake up soon. We have a lot of work to do and it’s time we
get started.”
Billie looked at
the old man. “Started? What are we doing?”
He carefully
placed a bookmark in the old leather-bound book he’d been reading and then
closed it. With an omniscient grin, he replied, “Why, saving Atlantis, of
course.”
Chapter Fifteen
“So, that’s what
this is about.” Billie looked at the old man, her fear replaced with curiosity,
as confidence dawned on her that she could probably kill him with her bare
hands. “You heard that I had a new lead and decided that you could reap the
rewards?”
“Reap the
rewards?” he asked, a curious look on his face.
“The golden city.
Or, city covered in the gold rich alloy, Orichalcum.”
Laughing, the man
sat up and said, “So you don’t know then, do you?”
“Know what?”
“Atlantis, my
dear, for the most part, was stolen nearly 150 years ago.”
“How could you
possibly know that?”
“I should know.
After all, it was my grandfather who did the stealing.”
“So, if you
didn’t kidnap me to find the treasures hidden inside Atlantis, why am I here?”
“First of all, I
never kidnapped you. I protected you from them. And I would have thought you’d
be more grateful for it, on that matter.”
“Then can I
leave…” she began to protest, but he stopped her.
“Second. We need
to find Atlantis, before they do, and stop the countdown, which we both know
you started.”
Billie already
knew the precise location of Atlantis. She’d been there only just last week. But
instead of finding answers, she had found more questions and discovered that
she had inadvertently restarted a timer that should have been permanently
stopped.
But there was
Up ahead she
thought she could hear something other than the sound of turbines. It creaked
and cracked, as an open fire would. Slowly she progressed, walking ten or so
feet and then stopping to listen. Her ears sensitive to the slightest change in
sound, and expecting to hear someone come out to grab her at any moment, Billie
clenched her fists.
But no one came
for her.
She continued
walking through the passageway. It was long. Much longer than any submarine
she’d ever been on, not that she’d been on many. Still she expected that
whatever type of submersible she was aboard, required hundreds of people to
sail – but despite walking for several minutes now, she’d seen no evidence of
anyone.
I’m on a
deserted ghost ship?
Billie wasn’t
immediately certain that she preferred that any more than discovering it was
swarming with submariners. At least then, she’d have answers. Besides, if they
didn’t let her die in the first place, that meant they needed her alive.
Determined to
take control of the only thing left to her, she decided not to continue
slinking around quietly like a cat in an alley.
She whistled
loudly.
The sound echoed
through the empty hull.
“I’m awake! You
may as well come out. I know you don’t want to kill me, or else you wouldn’t
have dressed my wounds. So come out!”
There was no
response.
A thousand tiny
prickles teased the nerve endings of her skin. Perhaps she really was on a
ghost ship. But why? Why go through the trouble of abducting her – healing her
– only to abandon her below the surface of the ocean?
No, someone
will come.
But they didn’t,
so she continued walking through the passageway. Although narrow, it had nearly
six feet of head room above. That meant she was most likely on an American sub
– after all, no other navy in the world believed in such luxuries for its
sailors.
At the end of the
room, she saw an old man who most likely was nearing his early eighties. He
was sitting and reading a book in a recliner chair. Next to him was a large
heat light, built to look like a fire.
It crackled, like
a real fire.
The man smiled
warmly, but did not stand up as she approached.
“Hello Dr. Swan.
I was hoping you’d wake up soon. We have a lot of work to do and it’s time we
get started.”
Billie looked at
the old man. “Started? What are we doing?”
He carefully
placed a bookmark in the old leather-bound book he’d been reading and then
closed it. With an omniscient grin, he replied, “Why, saving Atlantis, of
course.”
Chapter Fifteen
“So, that’s what
this is about.” Billie looked at the old man, her fear replaced with curiosity,
as confidence dawned on her that she could probably kill him with her bare
hands. “You heard that I had a new lead and decided that you could reap the
rewards?”
“Reap the
rewards?” he asked, a curious look on his face.
“The golden city.
Or, city covered in the gold rich alloy, Orichalcum.”
Laughing, the man
sat up and said, “So you don’t know then, do you?”
“Know what?”
“Atlantis, my
dear, for the most part, was stolen nearly 150 years ago.”
“How could you
possibly know that?”
“I should know.
After all, it was my grandfather who did the stealing.”
“So, if you
didn’t kidnap me to find the treasures hidden inside Atlantis, why am I here?”
“First of all, I
never kidnapped you. I protected you from them. And I would have thought you’d
be more grateful for it, on that matter.”
“Then can I
leave…” she began to protest, but he stopped her.
“Second. We need
to find Atlantis, before they do, and stop the countdown, which we both know
you started.”
Billie already
knew the precise location of Atlantis. She’d been there only just last week. But
instead of finding answers, she had found more questions and discovered that
she had inadvertently restarted a timer that should have been permanently
stopped.
But there was
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