Post by Shawna Mitchell on Apr 27, 2012 16:30:11 GMT -5
“GO! GO! GO!” cried out the mercenary, breaking down the door of the decrepit apartment. The men rushed into the squalor, guns drawn. Staring into the darkness, the leader motioned for them to move forward. They quietly filed up the stairs, flashlights out, scanning the inky blackness. The man in front reached an intact door, and silently signaled for the team to prepare themselves. Wordlessly, he mouthed three, two, one, then opened the door. The team ran in, but was utterly surprised at what they saw. Inside, there was an old woman, sitting in a rocking chair by the fire. She looked up at the men, and then returned to slowly rocking back and forth.
“So… You finally found me…” she croaked out. A smile crossed her lips, and again she turned towards the men.
“What do you know, lady?” shouted out one of the team members.
“I know a lot of things… But I can’t tell you if you don’t specify why you are here.”
“You know damn well what we’re here for!”
The woman looked at the man. For the first time she noticed the insignia of his uniform, a small rooster. “Ah,” she sighed. “The Kalahari…”
“Tell us what you know,” snarled the man. The woman, knowing defeat, faced her assailants. She licked her lips, and then unhurriedly began her tale.
It was almost sixty years ago, but I remember it as if it were yesterday. I was young at the time, and still so naïve about how the world worked. I had been picked to go on an adventure in the Kalahari Desert, and the expedition had been going great. We were tasked with uncovering the secrets of a place called Deception Valley, under the leadership of a woman named Amanda. As I said, it was going perfectly for the first few days, but then… Well we should’ve heeded the local superstitions about the curse of Deception Valley.
It began as little things. Supplies would go missing, people would get sick. But then, about three days into the mission, two of our own disappeared. I don’t remember them much, they were pretty inconsequential, but it definitely shocked the rest of us. It was just a taste of what was to come, however. Over the course of thirty or so days, nine others in the group would go missing, or leave. At this point, the remaining few of us were unsure whether or not to continue. We were also beginning to question Amanda’s motives. She was so concerned about Deception Valley that she didn’t even seem to care about the mysterious disappearances. It wasn’t until about twenty days in that Amanda began to scare me.
It all started with this girl Angie. She wasn’t the nicest person I’ve ever met, but I tolerated her. Amanda, on the other hand couldn’t stand her. She was always complaining about the expedition. It got bothersome, but we dealt with it. Anyway, one day Amanda was really pissed off with Angie, and, in front of all the rest of us, she shot her, point blank. We were all shocked. Amanda just glared at us, and roared at us to get back to work. The eight of us returned to Deception Valley, although we feared for our lives.
Over the next week, two more people would disappear at camp. I started to hang back at the worksite in Deception Valley rather than return. It was then when I made my big discovery, the discovery that changed everything. The other crew members had gone back to the campsite, but I kept working in the valley. I had decided to go off from the usual area where we were digging for treasure, although at the time we were told we were looking for artifacts of the various tribal groups. I was simply looking for a place to unwind for a bit, when I discovered something that would change everything.
It was really not much to look at, just two small, reddish colored rocks with some writing on them. I thought they were some sort of worthy artifact, so I pocketed them and brought them back to the camp. When I returned I learned that yet another person had left, and Amanda was keeping us all in the Kalahari at gunpoint. I thought I could change her mind by giving her one of the stones. I approached her tent, and give put one on her desk. She was ecstatic when I presented it to her, almost too happy. I decided to not give her the other stone, and left the tent thinking we could all finally go home. That wasn’t the case. Amanda did go home, but she left the six remaining team members in the desert by ourselves with no supplies.
We decided to try to reach Windhoek, but that was miles away, and we weren’t sure in what direction. We trusted in Anthony, the smartest of all of us, and he led us across the desert. It was tough going. One woman, named Courtney, didn’t make it. After her death, things went to hell. She was the glue bonding us together with her positive attitude, and without that we fell apart. We spent the next week or so fighting as we trudged across the wilderness. Brenda, one of the teammates left the other four of us, thinking she could get there on her own. The last I saw of her, she was walking out to the horizon.
Finally, we did reach Windhoek. Little did I know that this was just the start of our trouble. When we arrived in the city, we discovered our faces on a wanted poster, for alleged murder. Needless to say, we were not murderers. But someone was out to get us. We couldn’t go home, we couldn’t stay there, and we couldn’t go anywhere.
The woman took a deep breath, then licked her lips again. The men all watched her carefully.
“So you had the other stone?” asked the one in the doorway.
“Yes. I had it,” she replied. “If I had known how much trouble it would cause, I would’ve just given it to Amanda. But what’s done is done.”
“What happened to it?” questioned the man.
“I’m getting to it…” said the woman.
The four of us had to find out something to do, so we all took fake names and tried to keep low profiles. We stayed in Namibia for five years, unaware that we were being watched the whole time. Then, one night in our apartment, some gunmen showed up. They broke in, and killed Anthony within minutes. Luckily, Jenn, Yau, and I escaped somehow. We couldn’t stay in the city, so we fled all the way to Paris, and took up residence there.
The next ten years were peaceful. We lived in Paris, and slowly came to terms with our situation. We were very careful with everything, rarely leaving our apartment we could avoid it, and kept low profiles when we did. For some reason, I held on to my stone, almost as a reminder of where we came from, and why we could never go home. Sadly, Yau got sick, and passed away as older people tend to do. I was heartbroken. Jenn and I decided to pack up and move once again. We spent a few months in London, then about a year in Norway, before heading to Russia. Jenn was all I had, but soon she would leave me too.
It was winter in Saint Petersburg, and we were struggling to get by. We were poor beggars at this point, and food was something of a luxury. Jenn was looking bad. She didn’t want to admit it, but she had gotten very ill. She still went out begging, even though I tried to get her to stay home. One night, she went out to try to get money, and I never saw her again. Well not alive. When she didn’t return I went out after her, and found her frozen body in a park. I went to sleep next to her, hoping that I too would die that night. Morning came, and the police chased me away, and I was on my own.
For the next fifty years I was on the run. Now you’ve finally caught me.
The woman stopped, her story finished. The men gazed at her, guns still aimed in her direction.
“Where is it?” asked the man closest to her. “Give it to us and you can live.”
“You mean this?” she asked, drawing a small rock out of the pocket of her dress. “Go get it.” She tossed the stone out the open window. She smiled as she heard the sound of breaking rock. The men fired at her, and she welcomed her end at last.
“So… You finally found me…” she croaked out. A smile crossed her lips, and again she turned towards the men.
“What do you know, lady?” shouted out one of the team members.
“I know a lot of things… But I can’t tell you if you don’t specify why you are here.”
“You know damn well what we’re here for!”
The woman looked at the man. For the first time she noticed the insignia of his uniform, a small rooster. “Ah,” she sighed. “The Kalahari…”
“Tell us what you know,” snarled the man. The woman, knowing defeat, faced her assailants. She licked her lips, and then unhurriedly began her tale.
It was almost sixty years ago, but I remember it as if it were yesterday. I was young at the time, and still so naïve about how the world worked. I had been picked to go on an adventure in the Kalahari Desert, and the expedition had been going great. We were tasked with uncovering the secrets of a place called Deception Valley, under the leadership of a woman named Amanda. As I said, it was going perfectly for the first few days, but then… Well we should’ve heeded the local superstitions about the curse of Deception Valley.
It began as little things. Supplies would go missing, people would get sick. But then, about three days into the mission, two of our own disappeared. I don’t remember them much, they were pretty inconsequential, but it definitely shocked the rest of us. It was just a taste of what was to come, however. Over the course of thirty or so days, nine others in the group would go missing, or leave. At this point, the remaining few of us were unsure whether or not to continue. We were also beginning to question Amanda’s motives. She was so concerned about Deception Valley that she didn’t even seem to care about the mysterious disappearances. It wasn’t until about twenty days in that Amanda began to scare me.
It all started with this girl Angie. She wasn’t the nicest person I’ve ever met, but I tolerated her. Amanda, on the other hand couldn’t stand her. She was always complaining about the expedition. It got bothersome, but we dealt with it. Anyway, one day Amanda was really pissed off with Angie, and, in front of all the rest of us, she shot her, point blank. We were all shocked. Amanda just glared at us, and roared at us to get back to work. The eight of us returned to Deception Valley, although we feared for our lives.
Over the next week, two more people would disappear at camp. I started to hang back at the worksite in Deception Valley rather than return. It was then when I made my big discovery, the discovery that changed everything. The other crew members had gone back to the campsite, but I kept working in the valley. I had decided to go off from the usual area where we were digging for treasure, although at the time we were told we were looking for artifacts of the various tribal groups. I was simply looking for a place to unwind for a bit, when I discovered something that would change everything.
It was really not much to look at, just two small, reddish colored rocks with some writing on them. I thought they were some sort of worthy artifact, so I pocketed them and brought them back to the camp. When I returned I learned that yet another person had left, and Amanda was keeping us all in the Kalahari at gunpoint. I thought I could change her mind by giving her one of the stones. I approached her tent, and give put one on her desk. She was ecstatic when I presented it to her, almost too happy. I decided to not give her the other stone, and left the tent thinking we could all finally go home. That wasn’t the case. Amanda did go home, but she left the six remaining team members in the desert by ourselves with no supplies.
We decided to try to reach Windhoek, but that was miles away, and we weren’t sure in what direction. We trusted in Anthony, the smartest of all of us, and he led us across the desert. It was tough going. One woman, named Courtney, didn’t make it. After her death, things went to hell. She was the glue bonding us together with her positive attitude, and without that we fell apart. We spent the next week or so fighting as we trudged across the wilderness. Brenda, one of the teammates left the other four of us, thinking she could get there on her own. The last I saw of her, she was walking out to the horizon.
Finally, we did reach Windhoek. Little did I know that this was just the start of our trouble. When we arrived in the city, we discovered our faces on a wanted poster, for alleged murder. Needless to say, we were not murderers. But someone was out to get us. We couldn’t go home, we couldn’t stay there, and we couldn’t go anywhere.
The woman took a deep breath, then licked her lips again. The men all watched her carefully.
“So you had the other stone?” asked the one in the doorway.
“Yes. I had it,” she replied. “If I had known how much trouble it would cause, I would’ve just given it to Amanda. But what’s done is done.”
“What happened to it?” questioned the man.
“I’m getting to it…” said the woman.
The four of us had to find out something to do, so we all took fake names and tried to keep low profiles. We stayed in Namibia for five years, unaware that we were being watched the whole time. Then, one night in our apartment, some gunmen showed up. They broke in, and killed Anthony within minutes. Luckily, Jenn, Yau, and I escaped somehow. We couldn’t stay in the city, so we fled all the way to Paris, and took up residence there.
The next ten years were peaceful. We lived in Paris, and slowly came to terms with our situation. We were very careful with everything, rarely leaving our apartment we could avoid it, and kept low profiles when we did. For some reason, I held on to my stone, almost as a reminder of where we came from, and why we could never go home. Sadly, Yau got sick, and passed away as older people tend to do. I was heartbroken. Jenn and I decided to pack up and move once again. We spent a few months in London, then about a year in Norway, before heading to Russia. Jenn was all I had, but soon she would leave me too.
It was winter in Saint Petersburg, and we were struggling to get by. We were poor beggars at this point, and food was something of a luxury. Jenn was looking bad. She didn’t want to admit it, but she had gotten very ill. She still went out begging, even though I tried to get her to stay home. One night, she went out to try to get money, and I never saw her again. Well not alive. When she didn’t return I went out after her, and found her frozen body in a park. I went to sleep next to her, hoping that I too would die that night. Morning came, and the police chased me away, and I was on my own.
For the next fifty years I was on the run. Now you’ve finally caught me.
The woman stopped, her story finished. The men gazed at her, guns still aimed in her direction.
“Where is it?” asked the man closest to her. “Give it to us and you can live.”
“You mean this?” she asked, drawing a small rock out of the pocket of her dress. “Go get it.” She tossed the stone out the open window. She smiled as she heard the sound of breaking rock. The men fired at her, and she welcomed her end at last.