Read The Code - Genesis - Book I Online
Authors: K. Thorpe
Evalyn’s face softens as any mother’s would at her son’s tenacious ability to convince. “Well, maybe it is. The most important thing to remember is that if you look hard enough, you’ll always find something hidden just beneath the surface…and not just for clouds, but for everything there is, Josh.”
Josh looks at his mother quizzically. “Did God make the clouds, Mommy?”
Evalyn looks down at him thoughtfully. “I like to think so.”
Josh squints at his mother. “Where is God?”
Evalyn stretches her hand out, shielding her son’s eyes. “I think he’s everywhere.” She knows that having a child is one thing and raising that child to be a contributor to the world is another thing entirely, requiring discipline, encouragement, and free thinking.
Josh cocks his head slightly, edging out of the protective shade of his mother’s hand to look her in the eye. “How do you know?” he says, wanting to understand.
Evalyn touches her heart, tapping it softly. “I just feel him inside of here.”
Josh touches his heart. “I don’t feel anything in there.”
She tussles Josh’s hair playfully. “One day you will, son…I promise.” Evalyn smiles with a quiet knowing.
He will definitely be a contributor.
Heat-soaked by the Mexican sun, Josh blinks himself back to reality, as his eyes follow the stone steps to the top of the ruin. He grabs his gear and walks up the stone staircase, heading into a hollowed-out square ruin of the site. Josh hesitantly steps inside, looking around in disbelief as he gets his bearings. He walks to the highest point of the roofless ruin as sunlight streams in from all sides. Sparse walls and ancient stones surround him as he wanders through the historical structure.
Looking around, Josh scans the area.
It would be in the centermost point, to
access both the sunrise and the sunset.
He comes across a slightly raised stone area 6.5 feet in diameter in the center of the highest point of the altar structure. Josh falls to his knees, touching his heart as his eyes well up with tears.
Trying to collect himself, Josh looks at his watch through unsteady hands. It reads
12:55 p.m.
and 35 seconds.
Josh coaches himself aloud. “Get it together. No time to spare. No mistakes. We may not be able to wait another six years to get the data.” He takes a breath. “Come on, Josh. Make it happen.”
Still kneeling, he wipes the dust and dirt from a circle engraved in the stone floor. It reveals a chart with thirteen segmented pieces listing various symbols resembling unusual hieroglyphics and shapes. In the center of the circle lies another smaller circ
le
with engraved symbols:
a line over a shell over two dots and two lines.
Josh stands up, pulling the translation page from his pocket. He takes a few steps back and mentally reviews both the circle images and the translation page. Josh is beside himself, mumbling aloud, “2012. I just can’t believe it.” He looks at his watch.
I’ve got less than 5 minutes.
Josh yanks a digital camera, a piece of black charcoal chalk, and a few pieces of white art shading paper from his bag. He places the charcoal and paper on the floor just out of the way. Josh readies the camera and hastily clicks seven or eight close-up shots, maneuvering just slightly between each shot.
Let’s hope at least one turns out.
He quickly places the camera back in his bag and grabs the charcoal and paper from the floor. Josh kneels on the ground, placing the paper over the smaller circle as he shades the symbols carefully with the charcoal chalk. He spends more time on this as he tries to shade every detail, switching to a blank page when he completes the one he’s working on. Josh stops and reviews the circle as a mild anxiousness begins to take hold.
Where is it?
Josh runs his free hand around the circle. He feels a lone symbol etched in a 1 inch by 1 inch square in the corner of the larger circle. Josh uses his finger to clean it off and accidentally depresses it as he rubs back and forth. A 1 foot by 1 foot square rises up from the ground near the edge of the large circle
. It’s the marker!
Still holding the shadings, Josh steps onto the marker. He looks left, then right.
Now, is it with the sunrise or with the sunset?
Josh eyes his watch. It reads
12:59 p.m.
The soun
d of a faint but loudening
siren emerges in the background from the approaching Mexican military. Josh jerks to attention as his feet slip from the square.
How do they know I’m here?
Realizing his mistake, Josh looks in his bag. “Damn!” he shouts. He sees the streaming red light and pulls out the G.P.S., quickly shutting it off. Josh jams it back in his bag with frustration.
Not now!
In the distance, a rugged Mexican military vehicle carrying two hardened armed Mexican soldiers in camouflage military fatigues races along the coast toward the ruins with sirens blaring. The two pillowy clouds above shade the trail of dust that follows them.
Inside the ruin, tension continues to envelop a stiffening Josh as he looks around frantically. Gripping several of the shaded pages stacked together and the chalk, Josh steps back onto the square, shifting his feet first toward the direction of the sunrise and then toward the direction of the sunset, vacillating between left and right.
“East or West? Which is it? Think, dammit!” he says aloud. Josh stops to his left.
It’s the center…the doorway to the beginning and end of the sky.
Josh places his feet facing the center of the circle.
Here’s hoping.
He looks down at his watch, gripping his thumb between his four fingers as he holds the pages.
Ten seconds.
The seconds slowly tick off his watch. Josh grips the blank side of his paper as he stands still, hovering in the square over the larger circle. His eyes remain fixed on his watch as droplets of perspiration fall from his forehead. A droplet hits his watch, splashing on the digital time display. Shaking the wetness from his watch, he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and waits anxiously, his thumb now free.
Five seconds.
The clock reads
1:00 p.m.
, as an alarm beeps in unison with the display. The sun shines directly onto the first piece of the segmented circle, highlighting one symbol of the many in this particular section. An elated Josh bellows “Jackpot!” as he frantically flips through the shaded pages. He finds the page with the matching segment and he circles the symbol highlighted by the sun.
Thirty seconds later the sun moves to the second segment, highlighting another symbol of the many in this particular section. Josh finds the next page and circles the symbol as the process continues. He glances at his feet to ensure that they don’t move even a millimeter.
This will show them the truth.
Outside of Josh’s frantic, elated world, the Mexican soldiers, ready to ambush, rush from the vehicle toward the stairs where Josh entered. Holding a G.P.S., one soldier points to footprints in the dirt. The soldier speaks in Spanish to his comrade, “I’ve lost the signal, but someone has definitely been here.”
Sweat streams from Josh’s face as he waits, continuing to circle symbols as each is revealed. He’s reached number five of thirteen.
Come on! I have to get these…I have to.
Outside the entrance, the second soldier grabs a handheld radio from his belt and
hastily
speaks through the radio. “Base…we’ve lost the signal, but there are tracks near the entrance of the ruins. How do we proceed?”
A cracked voice responds from the radio. “Command says that the last coordinates we received were inside the ruins. He couldn’t have gotten far in only a matter of minutes. Check inside. If you locate him, you are to apprehend him immediately.”
The Mexican soldiers ready their weapons, rushing up the stairs into the ruins.
As they enter the site, the soldiers see Josh writing with his hand supporting the pages he holds as he stands in the square. They yell at him in Spanish. Josh ignores them, scribbling frantically, just completing number seven of the thirteen symbols. He tries to continue when the soldiers confront him.
“Halt! Put your hands up. You are trespassing on Mexican Government property,” the larger, more aggressive-looking soldier says to Josh
in Spanish
.
Josh quickly squats down and grabs his pack from the floor, jamming the pages into it. Getting up, he tosses the backpack over his shoulder as he slowly raises his hands. Remaining in the square the entire time, he glances to his side to get a full view of the circle. The code is no longer visible. The sun fades from the spot and the entire circle is now shaded. Josh is devastated. “It’s gone,” he says under his breath.
He returns his attention to the angry Mexican soldiers. Speaking Spanish, Josh attempts to explain himself, “My name is Professor Josh Sails. I am an American. I’m here doing research for my university.” He reaches down to his backpack. “Let me get my documents.”
Josh tries to reach into his bag but the soldier holding the G.P.S. won’t allow it. “Hands up! One more step and I’ll shoot!” The soldier points his gun with more certainty. “You are under arrest!”
Josh quickly puts his hands back up. The soldiers rush up to him, grab his backpack, toss it to the floor, and then forcefully push him against a lone stone pillar.
Confused and anxious, Josh reverts back to English. “Careful with that! There’s
expensive equipment in there.”
The second soldier pats him down, finding the translation page in Josh’s back pocket. The soldier pulls out the page and looks at it. Unable to understand the Hebrew or the English, he crumples up the page and throws it to the ground. Josh tries to reach for it, but his
captivity
won’t allow it.
Josh speaks Spanish again. “You’re making a mistake. I need that! Please, it’s a part of my research.”
The soldiers ignore his pleas, grab his arms, and handcuff him. The first soldier picks up Josh’s backpack as they escort him from the ruins. As the soldiers lead Josh down the stairs, the stone square slowly recedes in the distance, as if nothing and no one had disturbed its rest. The soldiers pull Josh down the final few stairs, shoving him into the vehicle. Josh looks up to the top of the ruins.
So close. Will it be enough?
Chapter Two
Thirty-three-year-old Agent Katherine Elizabeth Natan sleeps on her couch, a blanket
draped
around her, as the early morning sun makes its way through her house. A gentle stream of sunlight glides delicately through the numerous windows in the small, suburban home
,
highlighting its crisp, clean décor.
A minimalist,
Natan
’
s
550-square-foot cottage style ho
me was the perfect fit for her
…just big enough for her and a few necessary furnishings.
No frills, no bills
…the motto she quotes to her rare guests
.
The warm sunlight makes its way across her face, radiating the rich darkness of her hair against her soft, olive skin and beautiful feminine features. Natan’s beauty hides the hardness of her early life, the internal scars cloaked by external loveliness. Only her eyes give any flicker of the detail of her past pain…and only to those who know what to look for. Beyond the attractiveness and the scars lies the hidden, missing piece of her soul she still searches for, wondering to herself if it really is a part of her or simply an extension of herself that she’s mistakenly sought. Either way, the vacuous hole keeps her searching, stirring the restlessness within. Natan’s closed eyes flutter in R.E.M. as she dreams.