Strange Land Short Stories by Rob B Sutherland - HTML preview

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Friends

“There is no way I can be nice about this Molly. You are a greedy woman. I believe that you were responsible for my Father’s death. I’m not sure how you did it, but I will find out.”

The tears welled in Molly’s eyes as Jade stood glaring at her. She turned and walked away leaving Molly standing in the doorway. Why would she say that? Molly thought as she wiped the wetness from her cheek. Molly closed the door and went inside to the lounge room and sat with clenched hands to collect her thoughts.

Molly lived in a federation styled bungalow in a Brisbane inner west suburb. She loved the federation architecture, less formal than English Victorian with some influence from the Californian bungalow style. The earthy red brick, leadlight windows and tall chimney gave the lowset brick house a storybook aura. The street was quiet and appealing with the residents appearing to be competing for the neatest and leafiest property. Molly had been in the house for over twenty years and had outlived two husbands. Both had passed away from the effects of heart problems. The last one, Bernie, died a months ago leaving Molly alone for the second time.

 

Molly was surprised when Jade arrived at the door of the house that morning. She hadn’t seen her stepdaughter since Bernie’s funeral. The bitterness and accusation that spewed from her were unexpected. A sharp knock at the door interrupted Molly’s thoughts and she went to the front window to check. She peered through the narrow opening between the curtain and the leadlight side window. It was Helen from across the street.

Helen had lived alone since her sister moved back to Scotland five years ago. She was retired from the Queensland Police but still had the appearance of authority. Her hair was grey and short cropped and she preferred to wear long-sleeved shirts and pants. Molly and Helen had become close since the death of Molly’s first husband.

“Come in Helen, I’m glad you’re here,” Molly showed her in and they went to the lounge area. The room was warmed by the sun streaming through the front full-length leadlight windows. The rich dark reds and browns of the large carpet on the polished timber floor added to the old English ambience.

“You had a visitor this morning?” Helen didn’t miss anything going on in her street.

“Oh yes… I did,” Molly said as they sat down in the soft cushioned sofa. “Jade was here, Bernie’s daughter. You would’ve met her at the funeral.” She paused and stared at the floor.

“I still can’t believe it,” Molly said looking up and clenching her hands. “She accused me of killing Bernie for his money.”

Helen could see the distress in Molly’s face. “Okay, just relax for a minute love. She can’t prove anything.”

“Well, why is she doing this?”

“Obvious…she is after money. She didn’t get much from Bernie’s estate did she?” Helen asked.

“No, only a small amount of cash - he left it all to me. When Bernie split from his first wife Jade disowned him. She never visited him… ever,” Molly said.

“I didn’t like her right from the minute we met – beady eyes – thin lips. I understand now why she was asking me where you lived – bitch,” Helen said with venom.

“Maybe I should just offer her some money to leave me alone,” Molly said.

“Don’t be silly love. You will never be rid of her.”

“Helen,” Molly grabbed Helen’s hand.

“Yes?”

“Should we get rid of all the flowers?”

“No need to do that,” Helen replied. “It’s okay.”

“What are we going to do now?” Molly asked.

“I’m going to sort our friend Jade out,” Helen replied with a grin.

 

Helen took advantage of her policing skills to track Jade’s place of work in the city. She agreed to meet for coffee at Mario’s café to discuss Bernie’s will.

Helen was sitting at the corner table examining the pattern in the crema on her coffee when Jade walked in. Helen stood up to attract her attention.

“Where’s Molly?” Jade asked tersely.

“She couldn’t make it so it just me.”

“Why should I talk to you? You’re not involved with this.”

“I am acting on behalf of Molly. She hired me.”

“Hired you, hired you for what?” Jade asked as she sat down.

“I’m her legal advisor and she has given me instructions on this matter.”

“Are you a lawyer?”

“I have been fully briefed on the details of your nasty defamatory remarks to my client Saturday morning last week. I am advising you that if you continue to harass Molly you will be sued.”

“What…you’re kidding. Look I don’t know what you’re trying to pull but there is something fishy about my father’s death. He was not that old and was fit as a fiddle when he died. I checked with his Doctor.” Jade was getting agitated. “And why, tell me, would Molly refuse to allow an autopsy - unless, of course, she had something to hide.”

“A court order for an autopsy would sort it out, don’t you think?” she added.

“You know as well as I do, that Molly’s refusal for the autopsy was because of her religious beliefs. So don’t give me that shit.” Helen snapped.

“C’mon now, what do you really want Jade?”

“I want my fair share of my father’s estate,” she spat. “Molly probably hasn’t worked a day in her life. She’s got that nice house and money. I need it more than she does.”

“Yeah, thought that was it. Well, Jade, I can guarantee you that if you pursue this vindictive, unwarranted harassment, you will have less money than you’ve ever had. You deserted your father and don’t deserve anything from him. You also know that Molly would not be capable of doing what you have suggested. So, if I were you, I would be thankful for what I have...and bugger off.” Helen said with such emphasis that the surrounding café goers turned to look.

 

Jade reacted like she’d been slapped. She stood, turned and hurried out knocking chairs as she went.

It had been a month since the meeting with Jade. Molly crouched peering at the patch of vibrant purple flowers. She picked one with the stalk between thumb and forefinger and examined the delicate petals in the shape of a small crested helmet. She stood and turned towards Helen.

“It’s ironic,” she said.

“What is?” Helen asked as she pulled a weed from the garden edge.

They enjoyed gardening together and the colourful display of cottage garden plants was a testament to their combined green thumbs.

“It’s ironic that this pretty, deadly ‘Devil’s Helmet’ flower saved me, and also conjures the monster that haunts me.”

“Your father?” Helen said quietly.

“It hurts to even mention him, but what he did to Mum, and to me as a child, was abhorrent. I tried so hard to deal with it – with religion – with relationships with men that might change my mind. I could never do it. My Mother saved me from an abusive father with tea made from this flower. I saved myself from Harold and Bernie. They were just men, and I couldn’t bear being with them. I should feel remorse, not peace,” she said as she looked into Helen’s eyes.

 

 

 

 

Black Mountain

Where am I? Ivan had a throbbing headache and his eyes felt glued shut. He forced them open. The bed had a white cover, tucked in tightly around him. His movement was restricted but he could feel tingling in his fingers and toes. A heavy cream coloured curtain hung on the right side of the bed in the small, dimly lit, bare, grey, windowless room.

I’m in a hospital, he thought, relieved that he was safe.

I need to see Luka. Make sure he’s got our notes and pictures. Ivan desperately pushed his foggy brain to focus on the events that led to him being in this debilitated state.

 

It seemed just a few days ago that Luca phoned him from Cairns. Luca was doing post-graduate work in anthropology at James Cook University and was excited about a discovery he’d made at Black Mountain in the Cooktown area. Ivan had met Luca in Brisbane when they had started university together. Their common interest in Australian Aboriginal culture had provided a solid bond.

“You have to come up here now,” Luca pleaded through the phone. “You need to see this in person.”

“I can’t just up and leave. I have lectures to give here in Brisbane. What is so important?” Ivan asked as he sat at his desk, phone pressed to his left ear.

“I was on a field trip yesterday at Black Mountain. Have you heard about Black Mountain?”

“Yeah, of course I have - missing people - planes instruments playing up and better known as the ‘Mountain of Death’”.

“That’s it. It’s like a mountainous pile of black boulders thrown down by some angry God, about thirty kilometres south of Cooktown. The locals take the legends seriously and they can tell you about a number of people who have gone into that mountain, and never came out.”

“Okay… what’s that got to do with us? Ivan asked.

“I thought I would have a look around the base of the mountain, check for any aboriginal artefacts. I wasn’t expecting to find evidence of activity, with the Black Mountain’s reputation as a no go zone. Anyway, I was poking around among the boulders not far from our truck when I noticed a cave opening a little further up and went to investigate. No way was I going inside alone but what I saw absolutely stunned me.”

“Okay, you’ve got my interest, what’d you see?”

“The cave opening was not simply an opening in a bunch of boulders, it had carved stone sides – rectangular blocks placed on top of each other, and get this – there were hieroglyphs carved into the rock,” Luca said excitedly.

“What, that’s crazy. The Aboriginal people painted on rocks but I’ve never heard of carved symbols,”

“Ivan, these symbols look like they’re Egyptian,” Luca said slowly and with conviction.

Ivan smiled. “You know that’s not possible, Egypt is a long way from the tropics of North Queensland.”

“I’m sending a couple of photos to you. After you’ve had a look, will you please get yourself organized and get your arse up here.” Luca said.

“I’ll do my best but I can’t promise.”

“Okay let me know soon,” Luca responded and terminated the call.

 

As the plane approached Cooktown airport Ivan examined the photos again. He still couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The carved symbols were Egyptian – ‘Amenta – World of the Dead’ looked like a flat jellyfish with one short tentacle and one long – ‘Ka – the soul’ two joined arms with hands reaching up, and ‘Ankh – Eternal Life’ the cross with a loop on top. If this is a hoax, someone has gone to an extraordinary amount of effort to pull it off, he thought.

Luca had a hire car and was at the airport to meet Ivan. They went directly to the hotel where they had both booked in. They agreed to meet in the lounge bar at seven p.m. for a drink.

The two men sat in cane lounge chairs, each with a pint of beer. If an observer was asked to identify the academics in the room, they would be the first picked. Both men in their thirties had trimmed beards uncombed hair and thick-rimmed glasses. They both wore long sleeve shirts with button down pockets. The noticeable difference between the two was Ivan had a pale complexion and dark beard while Luka had tanned skin and a light beard.

You’ve heard a bit about Black Mountain from the locals I take it,” Ivan asked and took a sip of beer.

“Oh yeah, many myths and sinister legends, the Kuku Nyungkal people of the region have long shunned the mountain. For them, it’s a haunted place. In more modern times there have been reports of disruption to navigational equipment in planes and air turbulence – possibly due to magnetic forces or radiation. The big mysteries have been the disappearances. When you consider the weird nature of this place with massive boulders, tunnels and huge caverns it’s perhaps understandable. Apparently, the boulders were formed from solidifying magma around 250 million years ago, there’s no soil and the black colour is caused by a coating of oxides. Add a film of blue-green algae on exposed surfaces, the wind howling through crevices and you have one truly creepy place.” Luca paused to take a swallow of beer.

“The scariest part though is the many disappearances. The indigenous people have many stories but the first European accounts were from the 1870s. One of these was a notorious criminal known as Sugarfoot Jack and a couple of his accomplices who fled to Black Mountain following a shootout. They were never seen again, and despite the police search that followed there was no evidence at all to where they had gone. They had simply vanished.”

“What about your discovery? Are there any reports of similar type finds – carved stones or symbols?” Ivan asked.

“No, there’s nothing that I’ve heard of. I suspect, judging by the way the boulders were strewn around in front of the cave, that a rock slide exposed this opening. It may well be the only one in the mountain,” he said.

Ivan leaned forward - he’d been waiting to ask this question. “What’s your hypothesis for the Egyptian symbols being here in this place?”

“Well, I’m not thinking aliens,” Luca said with a smile. “The Egyptian civilization existed around 5000 years ago so the question is how could there have been a connection with this huge black pyramid, Black Mountain. Aboriginal culture is much older and dates back over 40000 years. Could the start of, what became the Egyptian dynasty, have actually originated here in Tropical Queensland and then found its way to Egypt… not likely,” he paused. “So… what’s my hypothesis - I have no bloody idea.”

“Right, let’s see what we find tomorrow then,” Ivan said with a chuckle. “Have we got all the gear we need?”

“Yep, waist belts, ropes, helmets, flashlights, the lot, I assume you brought your own personal clothing and boots?”

“Yeah of course, when do we head out?” Ivan asked.

“I want to go early, first light, about 6.30 a.m,” Luca replied.

 

Black Mountain loomed like a huge dark monolith as they approached from the north along Mulligan Highway. The day was clear with a few meandering white clouds, as the tropical bush-land flashed by the Toyota Hilux. Luca pulled off the main road onto a dirt side track that circled around behind the mountain. He knew exactly where to park the vehicle to get access up to the cave opening. They organized their equipment, put backpacks on and headed up towards the first barrier of black rocks and boulders. This was Ivan’s first contact with Black Mountain and his look of astonishment lingered for some time. Luca took the lead as they scrambled, rather than climbed, upwards. He had marked various boulders as guideposts to the cave. Within twenty minutes they’d reached the entrance and sat to rest and prepare. The cave entrance had carved grey stone block walls and ceiling, post and lintel style. The front surface of the block posts had a number of carved symbols. The entrance was wide enough for a man to enter and not touch the ceiling. The tunnel sloped downwards into the darkness and the bowels of the mountain. The two men stood at the entrance, helmets on and flashlights in hand.

“Let’s go, stay close,” Ivan said, leading the way into the tunnel.

The sloping floor was solid rock, flat with a light cover of sand and grit making it slippery enough to ensure slow progress. They moved with caution without speaking, surveying the surroundings as they went. The walls were bare grey stone with no further symbols or makings to be seen. The only sound to be heard was the breathing of the two men. Ivan stopped, the beam from his flashlight flickering across the walls.

“Oh God, spiders,” Ivan spluttered.

A dozen or so large black spiders were grouped in a nest at the top of the wall on his left. Luca let out a grunt of disgust.

“Quick, move,” he said pushing Ivan.

Luca’s terrifying vision of a cascade of spiders forced the two men forward into the gloom. Their hearts were pumping. Ivan stumbled. Their flashlights showed a set of stone slab stairs descending then curving to the right. The stairway was long, about thirty metres, and covered the full width of the passage.

“A stairway, this is unbelievable,” Ivan stammered, as he squinted and peered down the passage. “Luca, am I seeing things?”

“There’s light down there,” Luca said, as they both pointed their flashlights to the floor and looked down the stairway.

A faint yellow glow illuminated the wall at the bottom end of the stairway as it curved down. They continued on, neither man offering a possible explanation for the illumination. Their flashlights skipped from side to side as they carefully navigated down each large stone slab step. An increasingly unpleasant musty stench assailed them as they moved downward.

“That smell’s disgusting,” Luca said with a contorted face.

They navigated the curved part of the stairs and moved toward the dim glow. The stairs ended with the passage floor becoming flat and leading to an open stone doorway. The weak light was coming from within. Ivan stepped through the doorway and Luca eagerly followed.

“Oh my God,” Ivan muttered, as he looked upward and scanned the cavernous room. Both men stood spellbound, wide eyes searching up, down, and side to side, trying to take in, and rationalize what they were seeing.

The room was twice the height of the passage and was around four metres high. The room seemed to be the same dimension wide as deep. It was like being inside a cube. Light streamed from above through a slot in the stone slabs, one of nine positioned in the ceiling. In a carved tapestry at eye level around the walls was a stunning display of carved hieroglyphics. Directly across from the entry, on the opposite wall, was another doorway opening.

“This is fantastic,” Luca stammered. “There are light shafts to the surface for the sunlight at different times and seasons,” he said looking up. “It really does look Egyptian.”

They both moved to the wall display on their left to examine the carved symbols using their flashlights.

“Some of these symbols are Egyptian, like your photos, but there are some strange ones,” Ivan said. “Here look at this.” Ivan pointed to a stylized figure of a man holding a staff. “Same side on style but the head of a lizard and a tail - and here again.” He moved his finger across to a silhouette face with pharaoh’s headdress. “It’s the head of a lizard or serpent. In fact… it appears there are no human faces,” he said moving along the wall peering at the carvings.

Luca didn’t respond and walked across the room and stood in the opening of the other doorway.

“Ivan… look here,” Luca said as he walked into an adjoining room almost a replica of the one he’d come from. The obvious difference was the raised sarcophagus in the middle of the floor. Ivan followed Luca through then stood with him looking down at the carved and painted stone reptilian face on the lid.

“It’s a burial chamber for someone… or something. That explains the Amenta symbol repeated many times in the wall carvings – ‘world of the dead’,” Ivan said.

“This is getting weird,” Luca said. “I think we’d better go back and get a team out here.”

“You know we can’t leave without checking inside this sarcophagus,” Ivan said, putting his flashlight on the floor. He stepped back to get leverage and with both hands pushed the heavy stone lid. “It’s bloody stuck,” he grunted.

“Okay, hang on, let’s both try,” Luca said positioning himself.

There was a scraping sound as they both put their backs into the task. The lid had slid across a couple of inches at the head end.

“Let’s have a look,” Ivan said, as they both picked up their flashlights.

“Holy shit, it’s not human,” Luca said as their lights illuminated an elongated reptilian skull resting in a pharaoh style headdress.

“I thought it was strange there were no humans in any of the wall carvings,” Ivan said. “I would say this guy belongs to a race of theropods - bipedal dinosaurs.”

“How is that possible?” Luca asked. “The dinosaurs went extinct with the K-T event asteroid.”

Ivan stood motionless, staring down, his brain connecting the dots. “Well… just thinking out loud, it’s possible that this species evolved with intelligence at the same time as the other dinosaurs, about 70 million years ago. Living underground they could have survived the asteroid extinction and created a civilization similar to the Egyptians, but predating them by millions of years. My guess is that this species existed in other parts of the world and somehow influenced the Egyptians.” Ivan looked at Luca for a reaction.

“That’s an interesting hypothesis Ivan, and as good as any I’ve heard,” Luca said with a grin. “You know that there have been stories about underground lizard people before. Some whacko in the U.S., years ago, reckoned he’d found a lizard city under Los Angles – all crap of course. My guess is that some enterprising human has put a dinosaur skull, which may or may not be authentic, in this sarcophagus. I can’t wait to get some tests done,” he said slipping off his backpack and grabbing his camera. “Let’s get some photos and get out of here. This place gives me the creeps and that smell’s awful.”

The two men had been taking photos in the burial chamber and writing notes when Ivan stepped onto the flagstone at the head of the sarcophagus. They heard a sound, a mechanical hum.

“What the hell is that?” Luca growled.

Suddenly a deep rumbling noise - a stone slab door dropped with force from the ceiling. It completely filled the doorway.

“No! No!” Ivan screamed as they both ran to the door. “We’re trapped, there’s no way out.”

“There has to be, a way,” Luca had his hands on the stone door.

They both spun around at the new sound - hissing gas.

“That smell,” Luca gasped and clutched his throat.

Ivan was already unconscious, lying on the floor.

 

Had they both been saved? Is Luca here? Ivan wondered. There were no sounds. Usually, hospitals are noisy places. Where’s the nurse?

The curtain was pulled aside and startled him. He could now see Luca asleep or unconscious in the bed next to him.

He recognized the face on the figure standing at the end of his bed, looking at him with interest – Velociraptor.