11. Sample Chapter

The following is an excerpt from the new novel Countdown by Milo H. Tomb


Chapter 5


Bones crunched beneath Angela’s feet. Her flashlight beam traced the canyon walls perforated with symbols older than she was. The narrow passage opened into a cavern enclosed by a rounded stone roof. She was sure Lark had come down this way, but the room was empty. A dead end. She opened her mouth to call to him, but closed it again. Where were those spirits they’d run into earlier, if that is what they were? They could be watching her now. Or they could be only a shout away.

She began circling the perimeter of the room, studying the symbols on the walls. These were different—not carved petroglyphs like at the mouth of the canyon, but painted with pale blue dye. In fact, in her flashlight beam, they glowed. She recognized the spirals and the eagle-like birds and the cow-pig kachina sketches, but there were new drawings here, things she had never seen in photographs, could never conceive of finding in a cave that had been here since before America had been founded.

There was a strange four-winged bird with sparks coming off its beak. Some kind of wheel-toed snake with clouds coming out of its head. And…a pocket watch. She could make believe it was something else, a type of sundial the ancients used that happened to resemble a pocket watch in their crude drawing, but she could see it wasn’t true. It was an open watch, complete with the dial on top and chain on the bottom. There were three hands of varying lengths across the face, and even roman numerals marking the hour. It was a modern watch, like the one in her pocket, except that hers was welded shut. She fingered the dial in her coat pocket, thinking a little wildly that it might pop open in the presence of this mystic hieroglyphic. But no. The watch was forever sealed.

A young voice jolted her out of her trance. “Are you an explorer?”

Angela whirled around, shooting her flashlight in every direction like a weapon.

A boy, maybe ten years old, stood on the far end of the cavern. His voice still echoed against the walls.

“Who are you?” Angela asked. “How did you get in here?” Had he sneaked by her without her hearing? Every footstep in this place echoed on for centuries!

“Why, I’ve been standing here all along.” He spoke with an old English accent. His clothing was old too—dirty leather cap, flannel shirt with a rain jacket, pants that flooded, worn out suede shoes.

Angela swept her flashlight around once more to make sure they were alone, but returned the beam to the boy lest he get away. She took a step toward him. “Where are your parents?”
The boy didn’t move a single body part save his mouth. “They were here a little while ago, but…they’ve gone now.”

“Where did they go?” She stood near him. Was this another spirit? He looked solid enough, but she hadn’t mustered the courage to touch him yet.

The boy moved slowly as though his muscles were out of practice. He pivoted toward the back of the cave and stretched out one arm, pointing at a large slab of rock propped up on some kind of alter. She hadn’t seen it before.

“I think they may have gone where all the others went,” he said.

“Which is…?”

He gasped. “It’s coming again!”

Angela went rigid. “What? What!” Her flashlight rattled in her hand as she watched the boy dart off toward the exit. “Wait a minute!”

She dashed out of the cavern and into the open-roofed maze of canyons. Her beam flashed against the boy’s raincoat up ahead. Angela’s feet slipped through piles of weather-smooth animal bones, and she hoped again that animals were all they were.

“Boy, come back!” She didn’t care about the spirits finding her now. The kid didn’t stand a chance on his own, and he seemed to know something she didn’t.

The boy whizzed around the corner. Just as Angela made the turn, something rumbled in the sky. She looked up and could make out lights soaring above her. Had they sent a search party after all? But the plane rumble was more of a putter. Her flashlight couldn’t reach high enough, but the plane’s interior lighting lit just enough of the vehicle to give away its shape.

“A biplane?” she whispered, pausing in her pursuit. “That’s old. That’s…really old.” And so was the boy’s outfit. There was something out of joint here. She was in 2009, wasn’t she? She patted down her jeans and cotton blouse. Yes, of course. Only…the canyons could play tricks with the mind. Either the boy and the plane from the past weren’t really here or she wasn’t really from their future.

She stared again as the biplane purred out of sight, a little disappearing bird with four wings.