Chapter Two
First there was silence in her head. The shock was so great that her mind froze. No thought would come, as her brain was trying to comprehend what had just transpired. “ Marcus!” she shouted, and that first action was more of a reflex than anything else. But like a jump-start, this shout set her mind in motion and within a split second a river of thoughts flooded her head, as if a dam had broken. “Oh my God!” she shouted, as the rushing thoughts brought with them the harsh realization. “Run to him! Go see!”, said the first rational voice in her head, unfreezing her. “Don’t get too close!”, said the thought right after and made her stop a little short of the gaping, black hole. Her safety should come first. “Call out to him again!” ordered her rational brain; “see if you can see him”. “Marcus!” she shouted once again and tried to look in the hole. But all she saw was darkness.
And that was the last of her rational thoughts. That river had now taken over and one after the other, in unbelievably quick succession, came the thoughts that carried all the possible fates that Marcus had met. One in particular came again and again and it felt like a woodpecker pecking at her brain. “He’s dead”, said that thought. “No, he might have just broken his legs”, protested the next one. “He’s dead”, said the woodpecker again. “He might just be unconscious”, argued Zoe with herself. “No, he’s dead”, insisted the annoying thought, almost simultaneously. The silence that responded to her shouts could only enhance its persistence.
“Oh God! Oh God!” she shouted, as the rate of the pecking in her mind became unbearable. “Marcus!” she cried, once again, in a desperate attempt to cast out her fear of the worst. Her voice broke at the end of his name. “Why did my voice break?” she asked herself, and that singular thought that ignored the pattern which had formed, gave her mind a chance to catch a breath. But, indeed, why did her voice break? Without having realized it, her eyes had filled with tears and now she burst to full out crying. “Marcus!!” she cried, literally.
“Ugh!” came a grunt in place of a verbal response from below. “Marcus? Marcus! Can you hear me?” she called, approaching the edge of the precipice.
“Yes, Zoe…” responded Marcus. Zoe released a long awaited sigh of relief. It seemed like hours had passed since the earth gave in, but in reality it was only a few seconds. “Suck it stupid thought!” she said to herself triumphally.
“What? You were worried about me?” asked Marcus teasingly, but trying to laugh only resulted in another aching noise: “Ugh!”
“Marcus! Are you alright?” asked Zoe worryingly.
“I hurt my back and I think I broke my leg”, replied Marcus.
“Try not to move”, shouted Zoe.
“I’ll try to get up”, said Marcus. He reached out in the darkness with his hand. “Shit! I can’t see a damn thing. Zoe! Throw me your phone!” he shouted upwards.
“What? Are you crazy?” replied Zoe, taken aback by the obviously irrational demand.
“I can’t see a damn thing down here! It’s pitch black! I need your flashlight!” replied Marcus.
“Marcus…” she hesitated. The first instinctive reaction was being set aside by a rational thought. These were special circumstances that demanded unconventional actions. She should give him the phone. It was the logical thing to do. Who could blame her for trying to help a man in need? But still. She couldn’t bring herself to make that decision.
“Marcus, I can’t give you my phone. You know I can’t.”
“Zoe, please! I can’t see shit down here.”
“What if it breaks?” That was a reasonable argument, although she knew it was only an excuse.
“I’ve seen the case it wears. “The Force XL”? That thing doesn’t break even if you hit it with a sledgehammer. Zoe, please. I won’t tell anyone”.
While trying to convince Zoe to throw him her phone, he was reaching out with his hand, trying to feel around to see if there was a rock or something to hold on to, when suddenly his hand touched something metallic. “What the hell?” he thought. Before having time to answer that semi-rhetoric question, came Zoe’s response from above.
“Okay. Fine. I’ll leave the flashlight on so you can catch it. Please try to catch it”. She had finally conquered her fears of the consequences, much to the delight of her rebellious side. But still. Her unwillingness to give her phone to a man in need, a man she actually happened to like, because it was illegal, highlighted a conservative side in her that she didn’t know was there. And not only was it there, but, much to her disappointment, it was the side that first came out and she had to fight to suppress it. “Damn! It is in a crisis that a person truly shows their colors! I thought I was better than that…”
Her refusal, for as long as she remembers herself, to conform with being the daughter of her father and follow in his footsteps, much to his dismay, was because she wasn’t conservative, she wasn’t a pawn of the system, a system she believed was unjust and corrupt. And although the status quo certainly favored her family and herself, she always opposed it and thought of herself as a revolutionary. Until today, when her action, or better yet her inaction, in time of need, proved her wrong. Perhaps she wasn’t as brave or rebellious as she thought. Perhaps she was a conformist after all. That thought shook her to her core.
Paf! The phone had landed on the ground. “Sorry!” came Marcus’ voice from below. “I tried to catch it”, he apologized, although his effort, honest as it may have been, wouldn’t have been enough. It had fallen quite near him but out of reach of his outstretched hand and moving fast wasn’t an option.
“Did it break?” asked Zoe with an anxious voice, which she immediately reprimanded herself for: “Oh, enough with the damn phone!”
“No, don’t worry”, said Marcus examining the phone. “I told you it wouldn’t break”.
“So, what do you see?” said Zoe, her focus swiftly shifting from her phone to the mysterious cave.
Marcus first turned the phone to the direction of that metallic thing he had touched. It was a perfect metal rod lying on the ground, less than a meter high and about 10 cm thick, with golden-bronze color and intricate embellishments of leaves and vines on the top. He grabbed it and set it up right to use as a cane to help him get up, but also to examine it more closely. As far as he could tell, from pictures he had seen, this rod was one of those used to create aisles with ropes in fancy museums, although it missed its base. But what the hell was it doing in that cave?
“What do you see?” asked Zoe again impatiently.
“I found one of those poles you use to make aisles, you know? With ropes”.
“A stanchion?” replied Zoe, with disbelief in her voice.
“Yeah, that!”
“What’s it doing down there?”
Zoe, who could now see down where Marcus had fallen, was wondering not only what a stanchion was doing in the bottom of a cave, but also how had Marcus survived the fall, because it was quite big. Most importantly though, she was wondering how he was going to come back up. She should call for help.
“Hell, if I know”, responded Marcus, leaning on the stanchion to help him lift his weight. “Ugh! It’s definitely broken!”
“The stanchion?”
“My leg!”
“Oh, right! Try not to hurt it more.”
“What the…?” said Marcus not as a response to Zoe’s suggestion but as a reaction to what he saw as he turned the flashlight towards the other side of the cave.
“What? What is it?” asked Zoe.
“Well, this is a definitely a stanchion or whatever. Cause there is a lot more of them down here!” said Marcus.
“What do you mean?” asked Zoe, not sure that she understood correctly.
“What I said”, replied Marcus. “I mean this seems to be a tunnel that… Holy shit!” shouted Marcus and with that shout he back stepped and fell to the ground, grunting in pain, once again. “Fuck!” he shouted, half due to the unexpected sight, half due to the pain.
“What? What happened? What is it?” shouted Zoe from above, trying to make out what Marcus had saw, only to realize that was impossible. From where she was standing she couldn’t see anything except from the spot Marcus had fallen.
“Fuck! What the…? Fuck!” Marcus kept saying.
“What is it?” said Zoe, feeling more anxious by the second as Marcus wasn’t responding.
“Fuck!”
“Stop saying fuck! What is going on?” said Zoe, not recognizing that this last “fuck” had a tone of amazement in it.
“Well…” hesitated Marcus, “it’s not easy to describe”. As he continued talking, he also tried to get up again. “You see the tunnel has these stanchions running along both walls, like the tunnel is an aisle or something. And…” he hesitated to continue.
“And?” asked Zoe, the anticipation almost vibrating in her voice.
“And the floor of that “aisle” is littered with bones. Lots of them!”
“Bones?! Human bones?”
“As far as I can tell”.
“Oh my God! How did they get there?”
“I haven’t got the faintest clue! There must be another way in here, besides falling through the ground. I’m going to follow the tunnel to see where it leads.”
“Are you insane?!”
“Well, how else am I supposed to get out of here?”
“We’ll call for help. Use my phone!”
“Zoe, it needs your retina to unlock.”
“Shit! That’s why I shouldn’t have thrown it down!” said Zoe, upset that this hadn’t been the reason of her unwillingness to throw the phone, but instead it had been her conformity.
“Even so, I doubt there is a service in here”, continued Marcus, trying to reassure her she had made the right choice.
“Okay. Then I’ll go get help!”
“Before we get to that, let me follow the tunnel to see if I can find another way out.”
“What? No! I’ll go get help so that you don’t have to go down that tunnel!”
“Zoe, I’ve got your phone. I don’t have mine. I fell down a hole full with human bones. If we can avoid bringing people into this, don’t you think we should do it?”
Zoe thought for a second. Her plan wasn’t to call the authorities of course, but instead her father’s men. However, letting her father know of this whole story, or mess better yet, wasn’t something she was looking forward to either. So she reluctantly, and stupidly as she would later think, agreed to let Marcus look for another way out, while she waited there. She insisted though that he would talk to her for as long as she could hear him and if he didn’t come back soon, she would go to her father, come what may.
Marcus made his way through the bone littered tunnel limping, using its walls and the stanchions for support. He was looking with awe at the bones that were scattered all over the floor. He was no doctor but it was clear to him that these were human bones. And by the looks of them they must have been down here for many, many years. He wondered if maybe this cave was some kind of cemetery or catacomb long ago. Amongst the bones he could see small pieces of red fibers, which he figured that must be all that was left of the rope that ran through those stanchions.
It was only until just a few moments ago that he was still able to hear Zoe’s voice calling out to him. Up until that point he was describing to her what he was seeing and she was telling him to be careful. But her voice was growing steadily fainter with each step he took, in a much faster rate that he would have expected. “That’s weird”, he thought, but he kept going and so it came that just a while ago he stopped hearing her altogether. And at that point he felt a shiver run up his spine and thought for a moment to turn back, only to dismiss that thought right away, with a shake of his head that quickly propagated throughout his whole body.
He mustn’t have walked that long. In fact he figured he must be halfway through the spot where he fell and were the herd should be above him. That’s when the tunnel took sharp turn, more than nighty degrees, to the left. And as soon as he followed the turn, he found himself at the end of the tunnel. The space here opened up to form something of a room, but still not that much wider than the tunnel itself. The rows of stanchions also came to an end right before the turn. The floor here was literally covered with bones, so that someone wouldn’t be able to walk across it without crushing a skull or two with their feet. Disgusted by the sight he turned his flashlight upwards to illuminate the whole room.
“Whoa!” he exclaimed, as no other words came to his mouth. In front of him, just a few meters away across the bone covered cave floor, were two grand metallic doors, both in size and splendor. They were golden-bronze, like the stanchions, and covered with strange runic symbols. Both the carvings and their whole construction revealed great craftsmanship. He could tell that even from were he was standing and with the lack of any special knowledge.
But the awe that those doors inspired was nothing compared to what came next. The light from the phone reflected and scattered on the metal of the doors, illuminating the whole cave, revealing that the walls and the ceiling were all covered with similar runic symbols that began to glow as the light hit them.
“Whoa!” was rightly so all he could say at the moment. Almost mesmerized he limped across the room, kicking and crushing bones as he walked. He was looking with amazement at the doors and the symbols on the walls, which now kept on glowing even if no light was hitting them any more. With this feeling of total amazement and the repeating question: “What the hell is this?” battering his head, he took some steps that brought him closer to the two metallic doors. And he turned to them, taking his attention from the rest of the room. He examined the symbols curved on their surface but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t even discern if these were some sort of letters.
And then his amazement and disbelief reached a whole new level. The runic symbols above the doors glowed brighter and started to shift and change right before his eyes turning into regular letters and those letters forming words and these words sentences. And when the transformation had completed he could clearly read what was written. A sentence had formed above the doors that read:
He had barely finished reading that sentence, in utter astonishment with what was unfolding right before his eyes, that the symbols on the doors now began to swirl and shift and change. And within seconds they had turned into sentences as well, the one on the left door saying:
while on the other one it said:
Millions of questions formulated in his mind at that time and were added to the millions more that were already there, all of them fighting to be answered at the same time. So, out of this mayhem, only a single word managed to get through, as a whispering sound: “What???”
But even that single word, which was probably the embodiment of all his questions put together, was meant to be left unanswered as the symbols all over the cave started changing and formed the same sentences, over and over again.
THE GIFT OF TIME MUST BE TAKEN
OR TIME WILL RUN OUT FOR ALL LIFE IN THIS HALLOWED PLACE
Still trying to understand the meaning of those words, of any of this really, the writings changed once again, all of them except on the two doors, all over the cave to one single word:
and then once more to the number ten.
A cave filled with tens, glowing now really bright, illuminating the cave on their own. But only for a second, because then they turned to nines. And a second later the nines turned to eights and the eights to sevens. Marcus was looking at that marvel dumbfounded and it was only when the number reached four that he seemed to realize what the changing numbers meant. He gasped and the phone dropped from his hand, as panic began to creep up to him, but just before he was overtaken by it, he dashed forward, as best as he could with his broken leg, opened a door and entered.
As soon as he came through the door the bright light blinded him. He squinted and put his hand over his eyes, while they adjusted. It took him a few seconds before he could see clearly their garden in front of him. “Damn, it is sunny today!” he thought. But with that thought, he stopped. He stood there, looking at the garden, kind of baffled. What had he come out here to do? He searched his mind, but no recollection came. He turned around and saw the tool shack out of which he had just came. What had he wanted to take from there? He shook his head a little and raised his eyebrows. “What the hell?” he thought. “Did Anthony hit me with something while I was asleep? Okay. Focus. What were my chores today? Weed the garden. So obviously I have come for the mattock”. He went back in and moments later he came out with the mattock in hand. He closed the shack’s door and was ready to start working, when he heard a ruckus coming from the house. He heard many voices and what seemed like a woman’s scream. He threw the mattock on the ground and ran to see what was happening.
The sight left him even more baffled and he struggled to make sense of what was happening before him. Outside the house were four big men with black costumes and from inside came out two police officers that had between them a young woman who seemed to be under arrest. Behind them came two more people, who from the looks of it were from Peoples Security. The two officers and the Security agents were young enough, perhaps in their thirties.
After them came two middle-aged men with grey hair. Both wore nice suits and one of them was holding a briefcase. That one seemed to be arguing with one of the agents, but what they were saying he couldn’t make out through the whole ruckus. The four big guys approached the second middle-aged man and surrounded him in a protective manner, but at the same time they seemed a little uncertain as to how to react to what was happening.
Last came his family, who stopped at the doorway. His father seemed really upset, a grim expression on his face. His mother was crying and so was Anthony, who had her in his arms.
He immediately started going closer so he could figure out what was going on. And while doing so, it dawned on him who the middle-aged man with the bouncers and the young woman were. “That’s George Sorras and that’s his beautiful daughter Zoe”, he thought. “But what are they doing in our house? And, moreover, why is she being arrested in our house?” The commotion was such that nobody noticed him as he stepped on the porch and approached his family. So everybody froze when he asked: “Dad, what’s going on here?”
“Marcus!” shouted Zoe and a big surprise showed on his face.
“My boy!” shouted his mother and ran to him, squeezing him in her arms, closely followed my Anthony. Marcus just stood there trying to understand what all this was about. He wasn’t used to being hugged by his mother, not for many years now, and definitely not by his brother. And why were they crying?
Next, his father approached him and pushed aside his mother and brother, a stern look on his face. Now, if up to that point he was struggling to understand what was going on, what happened next left him no choice but to conclude that everybody had gone crazy. His father hugged him too. And Marcus just stood there, not knowing how to receive this completely unexpected affection.
And things got even weirder. Because moments later his father released from his grip, only to grab him with both hands by the collar. And although that wouldn’t have been so weird in itself, the fact that it came after a hug and that his father’s eyes appeared to be moist, well, that was unprecedented.
“Where the hell have you been?” he shouted in his face.
“What do you mean?” replied Marcus, but before any answer would come one of the agents spoke.
“Please, let your son go, Mr. Stavrou”.
“Where the hell have you been?” said Marcus’ father again, this time shaking his son and his face started to get distorted by an expression of rage, one that Marcus was much more familiar with.
“Mr. Stavrou, please let go of your son”, repeated the agent.
Joseph turned a little towards the agent and then unhanded Marcus.
“Please step back”, said the agent as he made his way on the porch. It wasn’t until he came next to Joseph that he took a few steps back. He wasn’t happy that someone was telling him what to do in his own house and with his own son. But that what something that he hid well and only his family could maybe guess what was going on inside him.
The agent stood before Marcus, and although he was scared beyond his mind at this point, he did notice that George Sorras and the other middle-aged man had also approached.
“I suppose you are Marcus Stavrou, correct?” asked the agent.
“Yes, sir”, stuttered Marcus.
“I’m Agent Farris with Peoples Security, Phones Infringement Division”, he said while he flashed his badge in front of him for a second. “Where is your phone, Mr. Stavrou?”
“My phone?” asked Marcus.
“Yes, your phone. I assume you have it on your person, yes?”
“It’s in my bedroom, on the nightstand.”
Agent Farris gave a nod with his head to the other agent who went into the house.
“Why is your phone inside the house, Mr. Stavrou, and not on your person as it should be?”
“Well”, stuttered Marcus, “I was about to do some gardening and I didn’t want anything happening to it.”
“That is no excuse, Mr. Stavrou. You should just buy an appropriate case. You know that you are supposed to carry your phone on your person at all times, save when you are sleeping, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course, sir. I’m sorry, sir. Won’t happen again”, replied Marcus.
At that time the other agent came out, holding Marcus’ phone in his hand, which he gave to Agent Farris. He took it and showed it to Marcus.
“Is this your phone, Mr. Stavrou?” asked Agent Farris.
“Yes, sir”, answered Marcus.
“Could you, please, unlock it for me?”
Marcus took the phone and brought it in front of his face. The phone emitted a clicking sound and Marcus handed it over to the agent. He took it and started doing some gestures on the screen.
“You are almost out of battery. It’s at 15%”, said Agent Farris.
“That’s impossible”, protested Marcus. “I charged it all night.”
The agent took his eyes off the phone and turned to Marcus.
“You charged it all night? What do you mean?” asked the agent.
“I put it on the charger before I went to sleep and took it off this morning.”
Although completely lost as to what was happening, Marcus still noticed that this last statement created reactions to almost everyone there. But the reaction that stroked him more than anyone else’s was Zoe Sorras’, who gasped as if a silent “what?” has tried to come out but got stuck on the “a”, her face riddled with surprise and incomprehension. Nevertheless, she managed to shout to him: “Marcus? What are you saying?”
“Mr. Stavrou”, said Agent Farris while signaling with his hand to Zoe to stop shouting, “do you know this young woman?”
“Yes”, said Marcus. “It’s Zoe Sorras, Mr. George Sorras’ daughter”, he said, showing George Sorras who was standing just a few steps behind the agent.
“And were you with her last night?”
“What?” said Marcus, taken aback by the question. “Why would I be with her? I don’t know her. Personally I mean”. A thought crossed his mind and fear overcame him. “Mr. Sorras, I swear, I don’t know your daughter nor have I ever touched her.”
“Marcus, what the fuck?” shouted Zoe.
“Listen, son”, said the other middle-aged man as he approached, which Marcus deducted that it must be Sorras’ lawyer, “Miss Sorras, Zoe here, was with you last night in a cave, where you had some kind of accident and she had to throw her phone down to you to help you. Isn’t that so?”
“What?” said Marcus, in utter surprise. “What are you talking about? I was here last night, sound asleep in my bed.”
“Marcus!” shouted Zoe, and it was clear that what was mere incomprehension before, was now mixed with major doses of anger.
“You little shit!” shouted Sorras. “Isn’t it obvious what he’s doing? He knows that he will be in deep shit for forgetting his phone, so he makes up those lies and lets my daughter take the blame! He has her phone!”
“Mr. Sorras”, replied Agent Farris steadily, “your daughter’s phone isn’t here. We’ve checked. Mr. Stavrou”, continued the agent, turning to Marcus’ father, “did your son sleep here last night?”
In that moment, time slowed down to almost a stop for Joseph. He looked at the agent asking him the question, knowing he was measuring his every reaction. He looked at Sorras’ serious and stern face, now twisted with anger. He looked at his lawyer and his daughter. And finally, all in a split second, he looked at his son that had an expression of incomprehension and fear on his face.
“Yes”, he responded in his deep voice. “My son was here last night.”
“You lying piece of shit!” shouted George Sorras.
“Please calm down Mr. Sorras”, said Agent Farris. “Here”, he said to Marcus handing him his phone. “Always keep it on your person and well charged, son. Let’s go”, he said to the other agent and the two officers.
“What?” exclaimed Sorras. “You are going to let him go?”
“Should we need him for further questioning, we know where to find him”, replied Agent Farris as he was heading towards the exit of the yard, followed by the other agent and Sorras with his lawyer. And continued: “This moment it’s just your daughter that is missing her phone and that is our concern. And yours. But at least there will be no murder investigation”. And turning to the other agent he said: “Call to cancel the homicide unit”.
“But he is lying!” protested Sorras, following the agent as he approached the gate.
“Marcus, please!” shouted Zoe, as she was put inside a car by the two officers. “Please tell the truth!”
“He is obviously lying!” continued Sorras. “He is the reason that my daughter lost her phone!”
The agent stopped and turned to Sorras.
“The boy isn’t limping, Mr. Sorras”. And with that he entered the car himself.
George Sorras turned to Joseph, as the cars drove off.
“You made an enemy today Stavrou, one that you don’t want to have!” he said and then he left, followed by his lawyer and his men.
Marcus stood there stunned, unable to understand what was happening.
“Dad”, he said, “what is going on?”
“You shut your mouth”, replied his father and walked in the house. His mother and brother followed him, confused themselves as to what was really going on.
Marcus stood alone on the porch. He sat down on a chair and put his hands on his lap, an empty gaze on his face. His hand touched something. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled it out. It was a wooden figurine of a satyr.
Hole in cave image
Bone littered cave image
Golden doors image
Bright light image
Satyr image