The Adventures of Logan van Zant: CH VII

The rising sun engulfs the ridge of Mount Ararat in a brilliant orange. Cornelius moves his head and winces in pain as the jeep bumbles along. Logan places a hand on his uncle’s forehead, “He’s burning up.”

“What is he saying?” Aurora asks.

“He must be dreaming, or the infection is making him hallucinate.”

Cornelius’ mind is filled with visions of his days in the French Foreign Legion, fighting the First Great War, and the tragic day his nephew came to live with him. The memories fade; he stands alone in an Egyptian tomb with a lantern in his hand. The light of the lantern illuminates the Hieroglyphs along the wall.

“Logan, my boy, where are you? We must go before they close the doors to the temple!”

He follows the corridor; his voice echoes as he calls out for his nephew. He comes to a stop in a treasure chamber filled with dim torchlight. At the center of the chamber sits a saffron scarab in the hands of a statue. He sees a young boy approach the scarab, “Look Uncle, I’ve found it! The Scarab Beetle of Rah!”

“No, my boy, you mustn’t touch it! Get away!” Young Logan removes the scarab from the statue. A voice erupts from the depths of the temple. Logan is startled and drops the scarab; the beetle shatters to pieces.

“You have soiled the Temple of Rah! Now you must DIE!” The torches douse; Cornelius stands alone clinging to the fading light of his lantern. The sound of shuffling feet draws near. Cornelius looks into the dark, but his lantern cannot pierce it.

“Logan?”

The jeep comes to a stop at a crack at the base of the mountain. Carved on either side of the crack is a statue of a man with a scorpion breastplate. “ ‘Where the two brothers meet’. . . Looks like we’re hoofing it from here.” Logan removes a rucksack from the jeep bed, and throws it on his back.

Logan and Aurora traverse the winding fissure while carrying Cornelius between them. The crack widens and opens into a gorge. Logan and Aurora look in awe at the ancient dwellings carved into the ridge above. “Who would’ve made these?”

“Possibly the same ones who carved the Cappadocia ruins near the Taurus Mountains. . . They were hewed into the rock by troglodytes and were used by the Hittites, Muslims, and Christians. Castles and dwellings carved into the face of mountains, great cities hidden beneath the earth.”

“Great place to find a foreboding tunnel then, huh Professor?”

“We’re getting close. . . ”

They come to a stop at two scorpion statues. Between them is a round stone door with a hole at the center. A Hebrew phrase is engraved above the door - עזבו את כל התקווה הנכנסים לכאן

“This must be it . . Aurora what does it say?”

“ ‘Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here’ ”

“Dante’s allegory is real too?”

“Professor, we’re not going in there are we?”

“Like you said, we’re searching for the Underworld, ‘to where all rivers end,’ but how do we get inside?”

“Indeed, Gospodin van Zant, how do we get inside?” Natasha calls out from the ruins above. Logan draws the pistol from his belt. A shot rings out; a bullet hits near Logan’s foot. “It appears that we have you, how do you say, dead to rights?” A soldier takes aim at Logan, Aurora and Cornelius with an RPG; Logan raises his hands with the pistol in his grasp.

“Natasha, you bad penny, what have you done to Afran?”

“It is shame that we could not be come fast friends like you, but we have our ways. Bring him.” Two soldiers drag a bloody and bruised Afran by the arms to Logan and Aurora.

“I am sorry my friends. . . The Akrepler did all that we could. . . I will bring honor back to our people! Run my friends! RUN! Rak Chazak Amats!” Afran elbows a soldier in the stomach, grabs the knife from their belt, and buries the knife in the chest of the second before he is shot down.

“No!” Aurora screams.

Logan aims and shoots the soldier with the RPG. The soldier collapses to his knees, squeezes the trigger and launches the rocket. The rocket roars through the air, strikes the stone door and blasts it to pieces. “Into the tunnel”Logan yells as they carry Cornelius inside.

“Posle nikh!” Natasha yells. Soldiers enter the opening, but quickly return running in fear. An army of black scorpions erupts from the opening and covers the ground in a black sheet; they swarm and sting to death the fleeing soldiers. A soldier steps forward and begins to roast the arachnids with a flamethrower. The scorpions die with a hiss and pop as the liquid flames flow over them.

The light from the outside fades behind them as Logan and Aurora catch their breaths. Screams of soldiers echo into the tunnel. Logan removes the ruck from his back and sifts through its contents until he finds a flashlight. He illuminates the tunnel, but the darkness is dense. “Just like the Minotaur’s Lair, but there is no thread this time.”

“What’s happening to them? And, where did the light go, we’re not that far in. . .”

“We have our own problems now, just keep moving, Aurora.” They carry Cornelius further into the tunnel.

“Professor, what do you think Afran meant by, ‘all that you fear?’”

“The tunnel manifests our greatest fears. For Gilgamesh it was nothingness, so he braved twelve leagues of darkness; for Dante it was Hell. . . For me, it’s your driving,” Logan laughs; he receives no response. “Come now, I was just kidding. . . Aurora?” The stretcher disappears from his grasp; Logan looks behind him, but she is gone. A shrill scream pierces the void; Logan runs toward it and stops. Before him is the desolate ice of Lake Michigan. “This can’t be real, it’s just another dream.” He shivers as the frigid wind bites his skin. A voice floats on the wind calling out his name. He walks toward it and disappears into the vail of fog shrouding the lake.

“Very funny. . . Professor?” Aurora stands alone in a vast field of marigolds speckled with red dots. Aurora’s heart races; her lip quivers. A tear falls from her eye as she picks a flower. Her mother’s death floods her memory as a drop of blood drips from its yellow peddle onto her hand. She throws the flower to the ground; her clothes stain red as she runs to escape the endless yellow ocean. She comes to a stop at a barbed wire fence. The barbs prick her palms as she frantically shakes the fence while calling out into the cold fog on the other side, “LOGAN!” A silhouette slowly emerges.

The ice cracks as Logan makes his way across the lake. He comes to a stop before the little girl from his dreams. He drops to his knees. “I tried. . . I tried to save you . . . I’m sorry.” The little girl places a finger on his lips and shakes her head – no. She falls into the water as the ice breaks beneath her feet. Logan dives in after her.

“No,”Aurora screams as Logan disappears beneath the ice. Aurora’s skin is cut as she escapes through the barded wire on to the lake. She dives into the water, and pulls him to the surface. The lake and marigolds disappear; Aurora supports Logan’s head in her lap. The face of the little girl fades and is replaced by Aurora’s as Logan opens his eyes.

“A—Aurora?”

“Logan, I thought I’d lost you!” Aurora hugs him tightly around the neck. He breathes heavily and squeezes her tight.

“What happened? Did we make it out?” He looks around them. Five streams pour from the walls and gently run to the center of the domed chamber. The waters flow into a small Greek temple and unite at the base of a throne. The ceiling is made of opaque blue metamorphic rock. Sunlight trickles through cracks above them igniting the chamber in blue light. Veins of gold flicker like starlight overhead.“A sky of Lapis Lazuli. . .”

“What?”

“When Gilgamesh came to the end of the tunnel, he found a place where the sky was made of lapis lazuli. . . We did it Aurora, we made it. . . Where is Cornelius?”

“Professor. . . We were separated somehow. . . You and I ended up here. . . ”

“We need to find him, he’s still in the tunnel!”

A voice calls out from the Greek temple,“He is here.”

“Who’s there?”

“Seek and you shall find!”

Logan and Aurora cautiously approach the temple. They stop at its entrance and peer inside. A middle-aged man dressed in purple robes sits upon the throne. At the foot of the throne lies Cornelius.

“Who are you?”

“I was gifted or cursed by the Gods, which it is, I do not know. I have been called many things since the drowning of man, and many more with each civilization’s rise and fall. I was Noah to the Jews, Hades to the Greeks, or Charon by Dante. But, my true name is—”

“Utanapishtim. . .”

Utanapishtim nods, “I once had many visitors here, in the Age of Heroes. Gilgamesh, Theseus, and Hercules, but you are the first since the poet Dante, and each had their quests to fulfill, selfish or otherwise, what is yours?”

“My uncle, he’s dying. . . can you save him?” Logan kneels next to Cornelius.

“Death comes for all mortals, but your names and deeds will live forever. I have no control over death, young one. This man has lived a good life. It will be a privilege to guide his soul to the river’s end.”

“But, he’s not ready. . . I’m not ready. . . What about the task you gave Gilgamesh?”

“He cannot eat the bread of life without being awake. Your uncle is too weak. He sits in twilight, waiting on his last sun to set.”

“What about the fruit . . . The one you gave Gilgamesh?”

“You are the first to request the fruit when it is not freely given. Do you know what you must do?”

“Tell me. . .”

“Sit upon my throne and drink the Forgetting Waters of Lethe. If successful, then you may pick the fruit from the well of your memory. In failure, your memories will be lost forever. Do you still wish to try?

“Yes.”

“Then sit and drink.”

Logan sits upon the throne. Utanapishtim dips a bronze goblet into the swirling waters at the thrones base and hands it to Logan.

“Professor, I—”

“Don’t worry Aurora, how could I ever forget you?” Logan winks at her before draining the goblet. His vision fades; he slips into unconsciousness. Memories filled with fear and excitement; love and loss; exhilaration and terror fill his mind. Logan screams in anguish as the memories shatter like glass around him.

“You have to stop it, he’s in pain!” Aurora screams.

“He is at the cusp. . . He will prevail or fail, it is up to him.”

Logan’s screams cease as his fondest memory enters his mind. In a flash of white light, Logan is brought to the base of a pear tree outside of Cornelius’ manor. The death of his mother and father linger on his mind as if it happened the day before. Young Logan stares at the ground as a young Cornelius places a hand on his shoulder. Cornelius plucks a pear from the tree and presents it to Logan.

“This is your home now, my boy, never forget that.”