Aztlan: A Dane and Bones Short Story

“Holy crap, it’s hot out here.” Bones Bonebrake mopped his brow and cast a challenging look at the sun high in the cornflower blue sky. “And don’t give me that ‘It’s a dry heat’ stuff. Hot is hot.”

“No argument here.” Dane Maddock plucked at the neck of his sodden shirt. It wouldn’t stay damp for long in this dry climate. He hunkered down on the tiny rock ledge where they’d stopped to take a breather, took a bottle of water from his pack, and took a long drink. He gazed out at the parched red landscape of southern Utah. Sharp peaks and low hills dotted the horizon, all shades of the same reddish-brown as the mountainside on which they perched. It had been a long time since he’d ventured into this part of the country, and he realized he’d missed the open skies and sweeping vistas.

“Are we close to the top?”

“Why? Are you ready to wuss out on me?” Bones’ heavy breathing belied his bravado.

“Hardly. We both know I’ll reach the summit before you do. Why don’t you just give it up?”

“Not on your life.” The tall, powerfully-built Cherokee squatted down beside Maddock, removed the tie from around his ponytail, and let his long hair blow in the breeze.

The two made an odd pair: Maddock was fair-skinned with blue eyes and short, blond hair. He stood just a shade under six feet tall, but alongside the six and a half foot tall Bones, he looked small.

Bones stood, knuckled his back, and turned to examine the rock face above them. “Only about fifty meters to go. Shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Remind me again why we decided to free climb here?” Maddock asked, tucking the water bottle back into his pack and rising to his feet.

“Because no one ever has. Because it’s awesome.” Bones bared his straight white teeth in a wolfish grin.

“How’d you find out about this place, anyway?”

“My cousin Isaiah.” Bones’ cousin, Isaiah Horsely, was a professor and archaeologist working the American Southwest. “He found out about it from a local storyteller who says few people even know this place exists.”

“I don’t wonder,” Maddock said. “Considering how much trouble we had just getting here, much less climbing it.”

Motec Mountain’s height and steep sides made it look less like a mountain and more like a butte that had been stretched out until it touched the sky. Nestled in the heart of Utah’s Red Rock region, it was one of the most remote locations Maddock had ever visited in this part of the country.

“He told me some other stuff about it. Legends mostly. Weird stuff but pretty cool.”

“Tell me when we get to the top. The longer I stand here, the more I think about the cooler of beer waiting in the car.”

“Dude, you can drink beer any time. How often do you get to boldly go where not very many men have gone before?”

Maddock frowned at Bones. “Seriously? We do it all the time.”

“And that’s why we rule. Now let’s get back to climbing.”

Upon reaching the summit, Maddock expected to be rewarded with a refreshing breeze and a spectacular view, but he found neither. A fine mist hung over the landscape, slowly swirling in a clockwise pattern and giving the air a tepid quality.

“This is weird.” Bones waved his hand in front of his face, the mist curling around his arm. “It’s like it wants to grab ahold of you.”

“Nothing about this makes sense,” Maddock said. “We’re in an arid climate. Why doesn’t the fog dissipate, or at least burn off? And where is the moisture coming from?”

“The storyteller said there’s a lake up here. Want to check it out?”

Maddock gazed at the curtain of mist. It was odd, to be sure, but it didn’t seem to be dangerous. Curiosity winning out over caution, he nodded. “Let’s see what’s up.”

The way was smooth, with only a few scattered boulders here and there to impede their way. Though the mist shrouded the landscape in white, it was thin and visibility was more than adequate. Soon they came to the edge of a dark lake.

“Want to go for a swim?” Bones asked.

“I don’t know.” Maddock felt uneasy as he scanned the surface of the water. He realized in an instant what caused his discomfort. “The water doesn’t move at all. Look at it. It’s like a sheet of glass.”

“Maybe it is.” Bones knelt down and touched the surface. It scarcely made a ripple. “This is jacked-up. It’s water, all right, but it’s like there’s a surface tension holding it in place. I don’t know how to describe it.”

“I think you describe it just fine,” Maddock said, dipping his own finger into the water. “It’s warm, too.”

“Isn’t there a lake in the Middle East where people float really easily?” Bones asked. “You know, like without an inner tube or those water wings you love?”

“The Dead Sea.” Maddock ignored his friend’s jibe. “But that’s because of the high salt content. I don’t think that’s the deal here.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’m not going to taste the water.” Bones wiped his hand on his shirt.

“And I think we’ll pass on the swimming, too.”

They stood and began to walk along the shore. They quickly discovered that the lake was perfectly round, or something close to perfect. As they walked, Maddock’s discomfort lessened. Maybe this place was more odd than sinister. None the less, he took a moment to dig into his pack for the dive knife he always carried, and hooked the sheath onto his belt. Bones did the same, and they continued their exploration of the mountaintop.

Maddock estimated they’d reached the side of the lake opposite where they’d begun their circuit when Bones halted in his tracks.

“Look at this.”

Maddock followed his friend’s line of sight to where a complete skeleton grinned up at them. A tarnished breastplate covered its chest and a tarnished helmet and the rusted remains of a sword lay nearby.

“Spanish,” Maddock noted. “Probably an explorer.”

“And he climbed all the way up here in his armor?” Bones said doubtfully. “I’m not buying it.”

“It wouldn’t be the strangest thing we’ve seen. Who knows? Maybe there is, or was, another way up.”

“I have another idea.” Bones folded his arms and turned to face Maddock. “Hear me out on this. This is an alien hot zone.” He raised a big hand before Maddock could argue. “Just listen. That could explain the weird water and the mist. And like you said, we’ve seen enough strange crap that it’s not the most far-fetched idea in the world.”

“So the aliens abducted the Spaniard and then dumped him here?” Maddock couldn’t believe he was indulging his friend’s fixation with extraterrestrials, but Bones wasn’t wrong. They’d seen and experienced enough strange things that nothing could be discounted.

“Now you’re thinking like an honest-to-goodness conspiracy theorist. I knew I’d win you over sooner or later.”

“Just trying to follow your train of thought, and believe me, it’s a scary ride.”

They continued on and made it only twenty or so paces before something on the lake caught Maddock’s attention.

“Bones, look at that.” Far from the shore, a dark shape loomed in the mist. At their feet, flat round stepping stones formed a bridge.

“Another of the storyteller’s details I forgot to mention,” Bones said. “There’s supposed to be an island in the middle of the lake. And, of course, it’s cursed.”

“Do you believe in curses?” Maddock asked.

“Other than a woman scorned? Nope.” Bones grinned. “Lead the way.”

Maddock tested the first stepping stone and found it was solid. He tensed slightly as he put his full weight on it, and relaxed when it held. “I don’t know if it’ll support your fat butt,” he said to Bones, “but I’m good to go.”

“Screw you, Maddock.”

Maddock almost felt like he was dreaming as he moved through the mist across the motionless lake.

“I bet this is what Heaven is like,” Bones said in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

“You’ll never find out.”

“That’s cool. Better parties in hell, anyway.”

At the center of the lake, they stepped onto solid stone. It didn't take long to discover that what Bones had believed to be an island was, in fact, a giant stone disc.

"I told you, dude," Bones said. "Aliens."

"Aztecs, more like. See?"

Symbols and other imagery covered the rock beneath their feet. Though he didn't know the meanings of most of them, the patterns and motifs were familiar. "It looks like a giant Aztec Calendar Stone.”

“You’re right.” Bones dropped to one knee to get a closer look. “Doesn’t mean aliens didn’t help them, though.”

“True. Let’s keep going.”

They moved deeper into the mist and soon the dark form toward which they’d been moving began to take shape. They soon found themselves at the foot of a miniature pyramid. At the top stood a small temple, surmounted by a sculpture of the feathered serpent head of Quetzalcoatl. That sealed it. The site was definitely Aztec.

They climbed the dozen stairs to the top, where, just inside the temple door, a tight spiral staircase descended into the darkness. They clicked on their mini Maglites and headed down. Time seemed to slow down as they wound deeper into the heart of the mountain, Bones grumbling all the while about the low ceiling and tight quarters.

Finally, they emerged in a large chamber. Maddock halted at the entrance and ran the beam of his light across the floor, looking for potential booby traps, but saw nothing. He took a few cautious steps inside and waited for Bones to join him.

“Interesting,” Bones observed, shining his light all around.

The room was round with a low ceiling. Spaced equally were the mouths of seven caves. At the center stood a waist-high pedestal.

“There’s an Aztec legend,” Bones began, “about a place called Chicomoztoc, or ‘The Place of the Seven Caves.’ From here, seven tribes, for lack of a better term, came together and settled at Aztlan, the ancestral home of the Aztecs.”

“So if this is Chicomoztoc, then you think Aztlan is somewhere around here?” Maddock asked.

“The Aztecs called Aztlan ‘The land to the North’, and this is well north of Mexico. It was reputed to be an island within a lake.” Bones scratched his chin. “And the word itself means ‘the place of whiteness.’ Think about it: the island within a lake, the white mist, the connection to the caves. I think the island up above us is Aztlan.”

Maddock frowned. “But Aztlan is supposed to be the Aztecs’ ancestral home. An entire nation couldn’t live up there. It’s just a single mountaintop.”

“You know how legends work. They get passed down from generation-to-generation and it changes a little at a time until it’s an entirely different story with only a few recognizable details remaining. Maybe Aztlan was the place the Aztecs emerged from, I don’t know, under the earth.”

Only a few years earlier Maddock would have scoffed at this, but such a story no longer seemed far-fetched. “Let’s check out the caves.”

They began by exploring the first cave to their left and quickly discovered that it plunged downward at a steep angle, going on and on with no end in sight. A cursory inspection of the other caves produced similar results.

“This isn’t a two-man job,” Maddock concluded. “It would take a team, maybe several teams, of researchers to explore this place, depending on how far down the caves go.” He turned and shined his light on the pedestal at the center of the main chamber. “Let’s check this out.”

At first glance, the pedestal was merely a simple cylinder, but closer inspection revealed a detail that had gone unnoticed. At the top, set in the center of the cylinder, was a turquoise disc.

No more than a hand’s length across, it was engraved with several symbols. Around the outside ran what looked like a seven-lobed clover. Inside that lay a ring of five suns. Finally, at the center, two figures faced one another. Only a few minor details kept them from being mirror images of one another. The images meant nothing to Maddock, but Bones gasped when his light fell on them.

“Holy crap, Maddock. I know what this is!”

Maddock was not surprised that Bones had some knowledge of Aztec lore. His friend had a keen interest in myths, legends, and ancient prophecies, and the Aztecs were strongly associated with the end of days, and also with aliens, another of Bones’ favorite subjects.

“This,” he said, hovering a finger over the cloverlike outline, “represent the seven caves. The sunbursts represent the five suns of creation. And they,” he pointed at the figures in the center, are Ometecuhtli and his female partner, Omecíhuatl, the highest of the Aztec deities.” He looked at Maddock. “This is the Duality Stone.”

“What does that mean?”

“I can’t say for sure. Only the craziest conspiracy theorist believes it exists.” He broke out into a broad grin. “Tell me again what nutbags those guys are.”

“You know what they say about a blind squirrel,” Maddock said. “But in this case, I tip my cap to you and your eccentric friends.”

Bones stood for several moments in silent contemplation. “I think we should tell Isaiah about this place. After all, he’s the one who tipped me off about it, and he’s got the resources to study it properly.

“Agreed,” Maddock said. “This is one heck of a discovery.”

The sun was setting over the hills, painting the landscape in shades of orange, by the time they made it back to their vehicle. Both men were utterly spent, yet buoyed by their discovery, their spirits remained high. As they drove along the rutted dirt road back to civilization, Bones spied a small bar. It was a squat, adobe style building of faded brown, nearly the color of the surrounding earth. A faded sign, the paint peeling, proclaimed it the White Bear Pub.

“I don’t remember seeing that place on the way here,” Bones said. “It’s not often that a watering hole escapes my notice.”

“It was six in the morning. I hope you weren’t keeping an eye out for bars,” Maddock said.

Bones nodded thoughtfully. “That must be it. Let’s stop for a while.”

“We’ve got beer in the cooler.”

“Yeah, but this place has different beer. No reason we can’t drink both.”

Bones slowed and turned off the main road. He parked alongside the only other vehicle in the dirt lot— an aging sedan of unfamiliar make. As they mounted the single, rickety step up to the building, he glanced back at their rented SUV and frowned.

“I could have sworn we rented a CRV,” he said.

“I thought so too.” Maddock walked around the back of the vehicle to check the model name. “What the hell is a GAZelle?”

Bones shrugged. “Who knows? Must be a Hyundai or some crap like that. It got us here. That’s what matters.”

Inside, they found themselves the lone customers inside the dusty bar. Narrow beams of sunlight filtered in through dirty windows, shining on the ceramic tile floor, which was pitted and cracked in places, and setting the dust motes aglow. Maddock and Bones took seats at the bar where the local news was showing on an aging television set.

“Couldn’t spring for a flat screen?” Bones asked.

“Don’t worry about it.”

The bartender, a stout man of late middle years with lightly tanned skin, copious ear hair, and a bald head, greeted them enthusiastically.

“My first customers of the day. I am Alexei. What can I get you?”

Maddock noted a slight Russian accent to the man’s speech. Unusual for this part of the country.

“Dos cervezas, por favor.” Bones held up two fingers. “Dos Equis if you’ve got it.”

Alexei frowned. “I don’t know this beer.”

“That’s cool. Just give us two of the best beers you’ve got.”

The man smiled and handed them two bottles labeled Tinkoff Golden. Bones tipped him generously and clinked bottles with Maddock. “To discovery.”

“Discovery,” Maddock agreed. He took a long drink, taking the time to savor the light, tangy flavor. He nodded approvingly and took another drink. “Not bad.”

They finished their drinks quickly and Bones called out to the bartender. “Yo, Axel. Another round.”

“Alexei,” the man corrected though he smiled to show no offense was taken.

“Who’s your pick to win the Superbowl this year?” Bones asked, trying to make conversation.

Alexei tilted his head. “You mean the Soccerbowl?”

“What? No, dude. The Superbowl. Football.”

“Football and soccer are the same.” Alexei picked up a greasy rag and began wiping the counter. “Or do you mean gridiron?” Bones nodded and Alexei grimaced. “Nasty, violent sport. I didn’t think they played it anymore.”

Bones made a confused face but continued to make small talk with Alexei. Meanwhile, Maddock turned his attention to the television, where the reporter was saying, “Today the American Politburo sent a strongly-worded message to Moscow, warning the Premier that America will not be treated as a lesser member of the Soviet Union.”

Maddock almost spilled his beer. Bones had heard too.

“Are we on a hidden camera show?” Bones looked all around.

“I don’t understand your jokes,” Alexei said, “but I like you all the same.”

“You’re pretty cool too,” Bones said. “Say, who’s the president nowadays?”

Alexei cocked his head. “How do you not know that?”

“I can’t really talk about it. Let’s just say I’ve been out of circulation for a while.”

“No television in prison?” Alexei grinned. “The president is Vladimir Putin.”

“I meant the President of the United States.”

Alexei laughed. “Now I think I am the one on hidden camera. There has been no president since the war. The American Politburo governs but reports to Moscow, just like all countries in the Soviet Union.”

Maddock’s head swam and he felt as though his tether to reality was slipping. He took a closer look at their surroundings, truly taking in all the details. Everything was Russian — posters of soccer and hockey teams and framed photographs of Soviet premiers dominated the walls.

Alexei walked away, shaking his head, and Maddock looked at Bones.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Bones stared at him, and then he closed his eyes and let out a groan. “I did it.” He buried his face in his hands. “I took the duality stone. It’s in my pack. I don’t know why I did it. It was like the stone wanted to be taken.”

Maddock was surprised at what Bones had done, but that wasn’t his primary concern at the moment. “Why should that matter?” he asked.

Bones sighed. “According to legend, the duality stone holds the worlds together.” He shook his head. “No, that’s not quite right. More like, it tethers the different versions of the world.”

“Different versions?”

“You know, like alternate timelines. I know it sounds nuts, but I think it’s taken us to a timeline where the Russians won the Cold War.”

Maddock looked at the label on his beer and considered what Bones said. Unless they were both experiencing the same hallucination, nothing else made sense. “Maybe we’re dreaming,” he said lamely.

A sharp pain blossomed in his shoulder. Bones had punched him. “What the hell?”

“Does that feel like a dream?” Bones asked.

“I don’t know. Does this?” He returned the favor and Bones winced.

“Okay. We can rule out dreaming.”

Alexei, who was polishing the end of the counter, scowled at them. “You fight outside. Not here.”

Maddock was about to apologize when his phone vibrated. He looked at it and his jaw dropped.

“You all right, bro? You’re pale as a… well, as a you.”

“I just got a text. From Melissa.”

Bones looked poleaxed. “That can’t be right.”

Melissa was Maddock’s wife who had died years before.

“If we’re in an alternate timeline, maybe she’s…” Maddock couldn’t say it aloud. Holding his phone in a trembling hand, he read the message aloud.

“We,” he whispered. “Melissa was pregnant when she died. Maybe…”

“Don’t do this to yourself, Maddock.” Bones said.

Maddock scarcely heard him. He was scrolling through his contact list. He saw familiar names: Bones, Willis Sanders, Pete “Professor” Chapman, and Jimmy Letson.

But he also saw names that hadn’t been there before: Hartford Maxwell, their old commander who had been murdered by the Dominion. Franklin Meriwether, a beloved officer who’d died in the Holy Land, and then he gasped.

“Mom and Dad,” he breathed. “Bones, look at this! My parents are still alive, and Maxie and Meriwether.”

Bones snatched the phone away and scrolled through the list, his brow furrowing deeper as he read. “This is not good.”

“What do you mean? Melissa, my parents! Bones, I need to go home.”

“Just chill for a second. Listen, we don’t belong here. Right now, some alternate Maddock is probably driving home from his job selling insurance, and I’m sure there’s another version of Bones who’s getting busy with a Russian tennis player. But they’re not us and we aren’t them.”

“How do you know? Maybe the alternate version of us are on a climbing trip in Utah. Maybe we’ve taken their places.”

“It doesn’t matter. This isn’t our world. Look at this.” Bones turned Maddock’s phone around so he could see the display. “Yeah, there are some new names here, but you know what? There are some missing too. Matt and Corey aren’t here. That means we don’t have a crew. There’s no Kaylin Maxwell, no Jade, no Tam Broderick. All those mysteries we solved? All we did to fight the Dominion? Never happened. Not here. And there’s another important name missing.”

They exchanged a level look and Maddock felt his resistance crumbling. He knew precisely who Bones meant. Pain stabbed at his heart. How could he have wanted to stay here, but how could he want to leave?

“Besides, do you really want to live here, under Soviet rule?”

Maddock shook his head. “I suppose not.”

Just then, the phone vibrated again. Bones glanced at it and his eyes went wide.

“What is it?”

Bones shook his head. “You’re better off not knowing. Trust me.”

“Give it to me.” Maddock spoke slowly, pronouncing each syllable in a tone that said he would brook no nonsense. Reluctantly, Bones handed it over.

Melissa had texted him again. This time she’d sent a photograph. There she was, her smile and her big brown eyes were just as he remembered. But it was the little boy, a blue-eyed blond who sat on her knee that captivated him. It was his son.

“He looks just like you,” Bones said.

Maddock’s throat was tight and he only managed a single nod. He felt as if his heart were being torn into a million pieces. It was more than he could take. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. When he could finally speak, his voice was husky.

“Bones, let’s put that stone back where we found it.”

The moon hung low on the horizon when they once again emerged from the temple atop Motec Mountain. It shone dully through the mist that still hung over the mountaintop. Between the climbing and the strain of this afternoon’s experience, Maddock had nothing left. He crossed the lake and made his way back to the spot where they’d made their ascent only scarcely aware of his surroundings, his mind as foggy as the air that surrounded them.

“I think we should stay here until morning,” Bones said. “It’s too dark and we’re both too tired to climb down.”

Maddock nodded and sank to the ground.

“It sucks that we won’t know until tomorrow whether we made it home or if we’re still stuck in our own version of Red Dawn.”

Maddock took out his phone. He scrolled through the contact list and then checked the text messages. The photo and message from Melissa were gone. His list was back to normal, though, and the name at the top brought a smile to his face— Angel.

“It’s all right,” he said. “We’re back.”