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Authors: Christopher David Petersen

BOOK: Tomb of Atlantis
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Jack detected lightning through the heavy rain as the area around him brightened. Immediately, he began his count. With one hand held high and the other clutching the netting, he rode the next wave and called out the numbers. With a loud boom that signaled the end of his count, he quickly calculated the time.

“Dammit, a mile away. Almost on top of me,” he said to himself in fear.

Suddenly, the sky illuminated around him again. Concentrating his focus through the dense veil of rain, the waves in front of him were
terrifying. Growing higher and more dangerous with each successive wave, he estimated their height to be more than twelve feet high.

In the previous half hour, Jack drank another couple of inches of water. With the ferocity of the storm, he could no longer hold on with just one hand. Sadly, he stowed the water bottle and prepared for the worst of the storm to strike.

As the next few waves passed through, he could tell that they were indeed getting larger. With each successive ride to the top, the float barely made the journey to the crest. Up until now, the sea anchor had worked flawlessly, keeping the float upright as it raced down into each trough, float first, with the outrigger trailing behind. Jack knew that if he encountered a wave too high to crest, the float would end up sliding back down toward the previous trough, outrigger first. The result of this would be disastrous. If the outrigger dug into the water first, then the weight and momentum of the float would drive the outrigger in further, almost certainly causing him to capsize. With a capsized float in seas that heavy, he was pretty certain the float would fill with water and sink. Without the float for survival, drowning would be assured.

Jack was worried. He knew the next couple of waves could mean the end. He knew the float needed more ballast to keep it from capsizing but he was out of options. There just wasn't anything else he could use.

In a moment of clarity, he slid off the netting and into the water. As the float roared up the next wave, he hung below the makeshift hammock and looped his arms through the holes in the netting, effectively using the weight of his body as ballast.

With his head so low on the surface, he knew he would be experiencing moments where he would be under water for quite some time.
He reached up and touched his snorkel and goggles, insuring they were securely fastened, as he waited for the inevitable to occur. He didn't have to wait long.

As the float rode its way to the top of the next enormous wave,
he could feel the momentum slowing.

“This is it,” he called out to himself as he clutched the ropes even harder.

Fear and hysteria coursed through his body. He waited anxiously for the change in elevation. As if in slow motion, still in darkness, he began to feel the slow slide back down the wave. Suspended underneath the netting, he felt his body being dragged through the water with tremendous force, nearly wrenching his grip from the ropes. Picking up speed, he now had a sense of the size of the wave. He knew it was much larger than twelve feet high and guessed it was even higher than fifteen feet above the surface.

Suddenly,
he felt his body surge in the opposite direction and he knew he was at the bottom of the trough. Hanging on tightly, he took an enormous breath of air and held it. In seconds, he was in over his head by a foot as the whole raft, became submerged below the surface. He kicked wildly under the water, forcing the float higher as he tried to reach air. Just as his head popped up out of the water, he felt his body surge in the other direction. Again, another wave rolled in and drove him back up to the crest.

Jack exhaled quickly and tried to take in more air. As he did, foam and water were driven into his mouth causing him to cough and choke. With each gasp for air, more water entered his mouth. He kicked his fins hard and drove himself out of the water, momentarily lifting above the roiling sea. Quickly he exhaled, coughed, and inhaled deeply.

In seconds, he felt the momentary pause in elevation that signaled his cresting of the wave. Suddenly, his head fell under water as if he were being pulled. As the float descended down the front side of the wave, he felt his feet come out of the water, then forced back in as the weight of the float crushed him from above.

The height down the front side of the wave was tremendous, so much so that Jack and the float freefell for a split second. As the float reentered the water, the outrigger tried to end over the top of the float
, but was pulled back by the sea anchor.

Under the netting, with his head barely above water, he felt the sudden deceleration that came at the bottom of the trough. He gasped for another breath of air, then instantly became submerged as the float sank below the surface. Kicking his fins wildly once more, he forced himself through the top and sucked in another breath of air.

Over and over, the waves rolled in. Enduring pain, fear, exhaustion, Jack fought with every measure of his spirit, as each savage wave tested his will to live.

Far out in front of him, the winds ebbed and flowed, forcing waves to join together and create larger, more violent mountains of water. As the winds slowed one wave’s progress, two more sped up along their path. In a moment, freak in nature, all three waves collided, creating one colossal behemoth.

Jack felt it immediately. As the large wave rushed forward, he felt a faster, higher rise in elevation.

Instantly, a bolt of lightning shot across the sky, lighting up the waves around him. For a moment,
his world stood still as he stared at the horror that towered in front of him. There, thirty feet above, churned a black wall of violent, raging water. As the crest began to break, he knew he had but moments to live.

Caught in the titan’s grasp,
his fear race out of control. Frantically, he began to kick his fins as he tried to pull his raft sideways across the wave. As he felt the weight of the wall crash down upon him, he gulped a huge breath of air and pulled harder.

Suddenly, the crushing wall of water and foam engulfed him, pounded him, ripping the raft from his grasp. As it pulled away, his fin entangled in the net and dragged him deeper beneath the water. With his lungs ready to burst, he fought for the surface, but it was not to be. The mammoth wave continued to break, its force and fury refusing to relinquish its hold on Jack.

 

Atlantis - Chapter 16

 

DAY 5

OFFICES OF JAVIER ARISTA:

Javier hung up the phone and stared out his window, sadden
ed by the news. His stomach churned and his hands sweated as he nervously thought about his next choice of words. He stood up slowly from his chair and reluctantly made his way down the hall to his laboratory. Entering the lab, he found Serena characteristically hunched over her work as she examined Jack’s scrolls.

Javier took a deep breath, then spoke.

“Well, that’s it,” he said, sadly.

Serena lifted her head. Her expression instantly changed even before he relayed his message.

“No, I won’t believe it. This is crazy. He can’t be gone,” she said, unwilling to accept the truth.

“I’m sorry, honey, but they’ve called off the search. The Coast Guard says there’s no way Jack could have survived that storm last night. They’re listing him as missing and presumed dead,”
he said as delicately as he could.

Serena stared at the ancient scrolls in front of her.

“What a waste; a couple of stupid scrolls and a beat up old urn? Just doesn’t seem right,” she said, sadly.

“I know. I’m just sick about the whole thing,” Javier responded. “I can only imagine what his parents are going through right now.”

“The worst of it is no one can tell us anything. He just vanished without a trace, almost like Amelia Earhart,” she said.

They both stood quietly for a moment, both acknowledging Serena’s last statement.

“He sure had an adventurous spirit,” Javier started, choosing to remember Jack in positive light. “He must have been a handful as a child.”

“Probably a terror,”
she smiled.

“For such a young guy, it sounded like he really lived life to the fullest,”
he continued. “And quite accomplished too: climber, pilot, engineer. Interesting resume.”

“Very interesting,”
she replied sadly.

Javier read Serena’s face. He saw something in it he hadn’t noticed before.

“I’m sorry, Serena. I didn’t know you liked him in that way,” he said, trying to be delicate once more.

“I didn’t at first, but he kinda grew on me a little,”
she confessed, then added, “But it wasn’t like I wanted to marry him or anything like that. I just sort of liked him. He made me laugh.”

“Yup, he seemed to be a happy kind of guy. Hard not to like a guy like that,” he replied.

Javier could see that the new direction in conversation was making Serena uncomfortable. Saving her feelings, he changed the topic once more.

“Well, at least his efforts weren’t in vain. His memory will live on through the artifacts he found. Finding the link between western and eastern civilizations is quite a distinction that will carry his legacy for many years to come,”
he said. “Speaking of which, have you found out anything more about the scrolls?”

Switching her mind to the new topic, she replied, “Well, come to think of it, I did find something. Check out this symbol. It's another pyramid-type hieroglyphic, but instead of the all-seeing eye hovering over its top, this one has an image of a man. It's really quite interesting."

"Really? A man? Where is it?"

"Right here, on the second scroll," Serena said, sliding her finger over the glass as she searched for the symbol in question.

Near the top of the page, she took a marker and circled the glass where the symbol sat underneath. Reaching for a magnifying glass on the table, Javier bent over and examined the hieroglyphic. Suddenly, he stopped and looked up at Serena. His face had turned white and lost all expression.

“Dad, what is it? You look like a zombie. Is there something significant about that symbol?”
she asked, now intrigued.

Javier remained silent. Holding the magnifying glass over the scroll, he looked down once more and continued his examination.

Staring through the glass, he uttered the simple phrase, “Oh my God.”

“Dad! What is it? You’re beginning to freak me out. What did you find?”
she asked, now becoming agitated.

Javier put down the magnifying glass and glanced up at Serena. Determination spread across his face. In a low, confident voice, he spoke.

“Get Burt Samuelson on the phone right now.”

 

EARLIER THAT DAY:

The morning darkness had given way to the light of dawn. The skies had cleared and the savage, violent seas had become gentle rolling waves. Floating effortlessly on its surface, tirelessly guided by the sea anchor, Jack's float drifted along with the current. As the morning news broadcast the tragedy of the missing person, Jack's body lay lifeless on the makeshift hammock.

Off in the distance, a Black Noddy Tern flapped her wings as she searched for fish on the ocean's surface. With hours of flight in the air, the raft was an inviting refuge to the now-tired bird. Circling overhead, she cautiously inspected the float as she weighed the dangers of landing. Moments later, with a quick burst from her wings, she settled onto the twisted strut with pinpoint precision and rested her tired muscles. Balancing on the bent piece of metal, she examined the motionless oddity that spread out before her.

Protruding out from under his matted and bedraggled hair, Jack's ear lobe created an inviting snack for the hungry Tern. With a quick hop and a flap of her wings, she now stood above Jack's head on the edge of the float. Eying the tasty morsel for a moment, she made one last check for safety, then pecked at the fleshy lobe.

"Ow! What the
hell
!"

Jack's eyes flew open and he lunged for his now swollen ear. Sitting up, he winced in pain as his stiff and battered body protested the sudden move. Still pulling on his sore ear, he watched as the frightened Tern flew off to safety.

"You bastard. I'm still alive. Go rob a graveyard you freakin' vulture," he yelled, his voice barely audible.

He sat for a while and watched as the bird became a dot on the horizon, then finally disappeared. With a great yawn, he stretched out his sore muscles and reflected on the previous night's terror.

“How did I survive that?” he said to himself, the previous evening still a blur.

Jack's mind froze as he pictured the wall of black, churning water just before the wave crest broke and plunged down upon him. He shu
ddered for a moment as the fear he felt from the night before replayed in his mind. Like a bad horror movie, he thought about the moment the raft pulled him under and the feeling of hopelessness as it dragged him down deeper into the ocean.

"Man, I must have been thirty feet under the water," he speculated.

Visualizing that moment and the struggle he had, trying to hold his breath, he involuntarily gasped for air in reflex to the feeling of drowning. He tried to clear his mind, trying to forget the ugly memory of his near death experience but the vision was too powerful, too vivid to push aside. His mind continued to replay the awful event.

With no hope for survival and his mind resigned to his death, he remembered opening his mouth as he readied to inhale the deadly seawater. Like a great entity, he remembered a rush of water that pulled the float upward as it was caught in the next violent wave. Breaking just behind him, the next giant wall of water pushed past him and forced the float to the surface, dragging him behind it. As his head broke above the water, he gasped for air and lunged for the float that bobbed nearby, his hands finding purchase on the netting. Still fighting for his life, he clung to the hammock as he fought to tread the water. In his weakened state, he had been approaching the point of complete physical exhaustion.

Jack's heart pounded, but he continued to replay the terrifying ordeal in his mind. He remembered clinging to the netting and beginning to lose his grip. In an act of desperation, he’d kicked his fins hard and propelled himself up and onto the hammock. Clinging to the top, he held on and rested as the next wave carried him higher. Out of the water and lying on the hammock, he had monitored the progress of the storm. As the sky lit up, he counted again: “One second one, one second two, one second three...” Continuing to count, at nearly twenty seconds, Jack remembered hearing the distant sound of thunder and smiling.

"Phew, what a welcome relief that was," he said to himself, feeling the same relief he had felt the night before.

Jack reflected briefly on that moment. The worst of the storm had passed by and was many miles away. That was the moment he knew he would survive. The seas were still rough and he still had a fight on his hands, but with conditions improving, he knew he had made it through the worst. He remembered feeling restrained euphoria as he clung to the netting.

As the storm moved farther away, the seas continued to improve until the waves became nothing more than a minor inconvenience. With time to finally breathe, he had turned over and la
id on his back. Staring up into the sky, he admired the stars. As they twinkled brilliantly against the backdrop of blackness, he began to count them. With his eyes hanging heavy, that was the last thing he remembered before falling asleep.

Floating along with the sea anchor leading the way, Jack slept soundly as he slowly slipped past the distant Island of Caicos to the north. With the currents and wind pushing him northwest, he drifted undetected past the major land mass. In less than two hours, he would pick up the much stronger current on the northern side of the island and drift faster and farther from the Caribbean Sea and into the Atlantic Ocean.

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