Jerimiah's Gold

Chapter 13: Jerimiah Cliff

I entered slowly to the extremely under decorated room. It was massive. This one building only had one room that held a heating furnace, multiple chests and cabinets, a large rectangle table that was placed directly center, and wooden chairs with deerskin cushions to go with it. Everything was built from the ground, everything was built by the Cliffs.

I had to assume ex-slaves were undoubtedly good at farming, but I hadn't taken them to be architects. In any way, the structure was built beautifully and very deliberately. I commended the deceased men for their work. I always had just the smallest amount of respect for the Cliffs. They were captives that fled captivity in the pursuit to just be equal. Although the Cliffs did ally themselves with the Hall Jack's; albeit they had no other options really. The only two gangs they could ally themselves with were my family, and the Shepards, and the Shepards were all deserted confederates, so I'd imagine that wouldn't have gone down as well. In reality, it made sense to befriend the Hall Jacks for them. They were both a minority group, and they both had similar goals. To live, but live equal to every man.

I wondered about my Latin descent, it is true I've never been educated enough of my heritage, but I still felt a twinge of pride for most things Mexican related. Out of my thoughts, I traversed around the table examining each detail in the wood. I ran my fingertips across the table as I contemplated deeply on where the treasure was. It was surely in this building, the building wouldn't have been etched into the gold brick if otherwise. I had rotated completely around the table to the head seat, where I eventually sat to ponder.

Upon sitting at the head of the table, I looked up for a moment to observe the still lit chandelier that hung above the table. The chandelier, like everything else, was also handmade. Being made of wood and glass, instead of brass or gold. There was either an extremely large dose of oil in the chandelier, or the power was electric. However, there were no electricity lines connected to the town or the vicinity at all. I watched it gently sway in a calming motion.

"Beautiful, ain't it?" A deep voice protruded from the darkness behind me.

I jumped to my feet and aimed the Winchester into the void. "Who are you?" I called out into the nothingness.

"I am not an enemy." The voice responded. "You may lower your weapon, I am unarmed."

"I'm not lowering my weapon, how can I trust you if you can't even show me your face?" I cocked the lever to the repeater, the clicking sound bounced off the walls and echoed through the building.

"I will move into the light if you move away from my seat." The voice sounded more coarse.

I backed away from where I stood, but still kept my sights trained on nothing really, yet it still gave me some security to have a readied gun. A colored man emerged from the darkness on a wheelchair. The tires squeaked and groaned as the man pushed himself to the head of the table to take his seat. I awkwardly pushed the chair out for him and swung the Winchester across my shoulders. The man climbed onto the head seat and sighed deeply afterwards. He lay his palms flat on the table, he was elderly, extremely so. His hands looked as if they'd been soaked in water for two days straight. His hands were about the only thing I could see other than the whites of his eyes - or rather yellow.

I took a seat beside him and stared at his hands for a moment. I didn't know what to expect, he was obviously too old and weak to fight me, but who's to say he doesn't have men ready to shoot on his command.

He inhaled for a long moment. "I know why you are here. For the treasure." I didn't respond, only staring directly at him.

"You have heard myths and legends about it, perhaps you've even read it in a newspaper. Tell me, do you know how many people came here before you?" His question was rhetorical. "Exactly four, and none of them have survived long enough to find it. I am no threat, madam, but heed my warning. You will see a circle of vultures to the East when you exit this building. You are to follow them, once directly under their circle, there will be two sounds. One sound is a crow cawing, the other will be a low hum of sorts. Listen very carefully for these sounds. Do not follow the crows, and do not answer to the wolf; be wary of the hum, but follow it as well. The hum is the last destination. Follow the vultures, and listen for those sounds, and above all else, survive." There was a long pause after he spoke.

I leaned in a bit, "Why are you telling me this?" I croaked, "Wouldn't you want to secure the treasure?"

"Trust me, I have, for thirty years I've dedicated my life to Jerimiah. For thirty years I've protected his secret. No more, I want to be freed from these shackles. This town is not what it seems, I'd get out of here as fast as possible if I were you, madam." The man sounded frantic now, almost on edge.

"Well, thank you." I stammered before standing up and exiting the building.

The man did not follow, nor did he move from his spot, he just watched me leave. Odd, very odd. I thought. I wiped the exhaustion from my face with my battered and callused hands. I made my way to the trees, the same direction I came.