Fatal Moon

Prologue - Luke Finds Nothing

Luke counted off his steps, walking silently west-by-northwest, from the large granite boulder at the base of the cross. He listened carefully to the sound of bird calls, squirrel arguments, the breeze through the tree branches, and the other little murmurs that told him that the animals hadn't noticed any strangers in the area. When he reached the right distance, he started searching in a southward arc, to find the square hole in the ground that was the entrance to the labyrinth, and almost immediately found it, grateful to see it didn't seem to be disturbed, in spite of all the excavations that were taking place throughout the rest of Oak Island. He looked around slowly just to be sure he was alone, then he knelt down on the damp mat of dead leaves, the rich smell of decaying wood filling his senses with every cool, moist breath. He crouched down, placed his hands on the soft edge, and jumped into the artificial depression, then reached a finger into a crack between the rocks on the sidewall, which released a latch so he could remove an entire set of stones that appeared firmly lodged into the wall. He dropped onto his belly to squeeze himself into the tight passage. A twig dug gently into his hip and another into his shoulder as he slid into the dark passage headfirst, arms stretched forward as if it were a pool of water. He reached out to grab a thick root and pull himself deeper into the tiny tunnel. His booted feet grappled behind him for purchase against the inside of the rock wall he had passed through, to push himself deeper in. He lowered his chin like a bull and wriggled into the narrow passage, rocking his body first one way, and then another, as he maneuvered into the earth.

Eight feet in, he rotated his body 180 degrees so that he was facing upward and reached into a side tunnel to grab another hard, thick root of one of the trees above, then pulled fiercely on it to drag himself forward into the loamy earth. The tunnel tightened around him until he could scarcely breathe without becoming stuck in the cramped space. He kept his hands and arms well forward, as if he were continuing an inverted dive he'd begun at the surface.

Once his entire body was in the side tunnel, his lifted his feet for one last push against the big root he had pulled on earlier, then released the breath he was holding and forcefully shoved himself into the narrowing opening in the increasingly rocky ground, then stopped again to take a deep breath. The space was so tight that his chest was now trapped firmly in place, and he was completely stuck until he breathed back out again. A few more deep breaths, then wriggle forward, take a breath, wedging himself so that he couldn't move, then release, wriggle forward, breathe... after a series of eight wriggles he was finally in a small granite cave. He reached for, and found, a crack in the granite and dug his fingers into the space behind it so he could pull himself forward another foot. He sucked in a deep, free breath, his chest finally heaving for a half minute. Finally he reached straight up into the ceiling of the tiny cave to find the alcove where there was... nothing. Alarmed, he pushed his hands higher and grunted in pain as his knuckles scraped on the rock and one of his fingernails tore to the quick. Nothing. With both arms and hands he felt around every inch of the jug-sized space. Nothing! The crystal skull was gone.

Luke pulled in a deep lungful of air and immediately let it out in a whooshing howl of agonized despair, then let out a shallow puff of a sigh. He was tired, so very tired. Nearly three millennia of tired. His responsibilities throughout the world had grown too much for one old man to handle, no matter how genetically fit and skilled he was, and he was just so damned tired. And now he'd lost one more tool he needed to retrieve his own memories when he became forgetful of a language he'd once known, the location of a weapon he'd hidden, and, more personally, keep alive the memory of the one person who had ever fully understood him, and loved him anyway; the exquisitely beautiful, black-haired woman his heart had been faithfully married to for several thousand years. It was the one luxury he allowed himself in this difficult and nearly thankless job. Now there was only one crystal skull left available to him that was sufficiently accurate for clear memories of her, in the jungle thousands of miles away, where a fractious guerrilla war was being waged. The other skulls had all been found and placed in museums, or private collections, and making new ones was always dangerous, leaving him open to discovery while the artisan crafted a replica well enough that he could place it in the ark, then interact with the crystalline structure to set it to store and retrieve sharp, clear memories. And the extraterrestrial overlords would be coming soon enough to check on how well their creations had been following the laws they'd been given His use of the skulls for personal memories was questionable. They're my memories, dammit! I have a right to keep them alive.

If the one remaining skull was lost before hecould make another good replica, his bright memories of her would slowly fade,as they were already, and in time he would be completely alone in this world, aplace he hadn't belonged in since the death of the Holy Roman Empire. Lukestifled a sudden urge to howl again and slowly wormed, toes first, back upwardstoward the forest floor. This direction was even harder than the journey in,and Luke had nothing to show for it. Nothing.