Hunt for the Lost Treasure

Chapter 28 — The Kiss of Olympias

Nina, Joanne, and Virgil waited patiently for Sam to report on or return from locating what was marked on the Nazi document issued by Obergruppenführer Karl Wolff concerning Operation Olympias during the Second World War. Down in the dark he had just passed the remains of Nazi soldiers to continue toward the place marked on the blueprint, when the mud beneath his right knee slipped away from under him.

With a yelp he fell against the side of the wide duct he was crawling up. He could hear Nina and Joanne crying down the tunnel, imploring him to report and confirm that he was still okay. But he was reluctant, because he wasn’t okay.

“Just give me a second!” he shouted. “Something's going on down here!”

Again the slippery muck under his grip slipped through his fingers, a most unnerving sensation that forced another cry from him.

“Sam?” he heard Nina's voice much nearer than before. “I'm coming, hang on!”

“No, stay where you are!” he barked with a crack of terror in his voice. Then he heard Joanne's voice with Nina's, the two discussing how far in Sam was. He could hear Nina moan in fear of the confined space she had a phobia for, but Joanne coaxed her on. Once more Sam heard a wet, sickening sound in close proximity and this time he rapidly brought his flashlight to see it, something he regretted instantly. Sam drew in his breath and a hysterical whisper escaped him, “Christ!”

“Sam?” Nina called as she could be heard slipping in the muck, not having seen the uniformed bones yet.

“Nina! Jo! Go back! Just go back!” Sam ordered. “Something bad is down here.”

“What is it?” Virgil shouted from a way behind the women.

“I don't think you want to know, Captain Hecklund!” Sam warned, as another shift under him startled him. Hard, muscular meat writhed about him and his waning flashlight revealed the true horror as the women screamed in the septic tank. “Did you find the Nazi's?” he asked, his voice trembling.

“Aye, we did!” Nina's muffled voice answered him. “My God, Sam, what could have killed them down here?”

“Something that lives here,” Sam remarked loudly. His words struck horror into his companions. “Something that cannot possibly belong here, but I know what I’m seeing.”

Virgil waded past the women, making sure that they did not falter. With an impatient tone he accentuated his question, “Mr. Cleave, what is it?”

Sam was frozen in terror. “Ohias.”

“What?” Virgil asked as he violently tossed one of the skeleton's aside. “What is an ohia?”

Sam was too afraid to speak, but he hoped that holding his body dead still would not provoke the wicked plague that had him pinned. “Ohias… s-snakes, Virgil. Very venomous vipers, adders…get out of here!” Sam screamed at his friends.

“No way, Sam,” Joanne's voice challenged him in the dark beyond the tunnel. “I think I mentioned before how I detest snakes. Sit tight, we are coming to shoot them.”

“We are?” Nina asked her softly, frowning in surprise.

“Um, we have to, right? You said to always have a weapon in case of danger,” Joanne recited. “And this is danger, so let's kill the fuckers and get Sam out.”

“Jo?” Sam called.

“Yes, Sam?” she answered.

“Cheers for that,” he sighed, quivering.

Joanne grinned happily at the salute from her crush.

“What the hell would adders be doing down here, in the earth, like bloody earthworms?” Nina inquired as she waited just outside the tunnel where Sam was. He answered her, keeping his voice low to avoid moving too much.

“That is the creepy bit, Nina. These snakes are indigenous to Greece! This is highly unusual, even impossible,” he reported. Something clicked in Joanne's recollection. Being the admirer of Alexander the Great here, she instantly knew where the snakes came in.

“Sam, Olympias worshiped snakes. She was part of the Cult of Dionysus. If we are looking for the Olympias Letter, it would naturally be guarded by the same slimy bitches of her religion and country, right?”

“That is extremely interesting, Jo, and I would love for you to tell us that on camera at some point if we survive, but that only impresses on me the fact that their presence here is… supernatural or some shite,” Sam admitted. “Which means they are here to avert the discovery of the Alexandrian treasures.”

“No wonder the dead Nazi's here wrote that the earth is cursed,” Nina mentioned. “It seems that the ground is infested with these things, like a disease.”

“Like a curse,” Virgil added. And he knew he was right. After all, it was the earth of the place where nothing grew, nothing happened, earth that the legend called condemned.

“Well, we didn’t come all the way here and nor gone through all this to quit, right?” Joanne said.

“No, we did not,” Sam agreed. “I know Purdue would have had the answer right now, the latest gadget to discount these serpentine motherfuckers in a blink,” he smiled fondly, “but he is unfortunately absent,” Sam said, his smile fading instantly, “mainly because of me.”

Joanne was not sure what he meant, but she refrained from prying. Nina knew exactly what he meant, but she couldn’t tell Sam in front of the other two that his decision not to turn Purdue in and instead fake his demise actually saved the billionaire from condemnation. He would have been arrested and stood trial for transgressions against several cultures by now had Sam not made him absent.

“Sam, can you get back into the septic tank, you think?” Virgil asked. “I think I have an idea, but you need to vacate that spot for it to work.

“I have not advanced too far in yet,” Sam reported. “I’m sure if I pace my exit as I did my entry, I could slip back out again. Why?”

“One thing at a time, my friend,” the sea captain replied. “Let's get you out first.”

Sam had to concede. One thing at a time was the most efficient way to go about things. He’d learned this many times before, yet it was not in his nature to put such a thing into practice. He was always too eager to get everything done in the shortest time possible, leaving many aspects unattended to. It was a flaw he recognized, but now that Virgil, too, prioritized in the same way, Sam had to admit that it was the better way.

As he had entered the tunnel, Sam started retreating back the way he’d come — by moving in oblivious care.

Don't let them know that you know. Don't let them know that you know, he repeated over and over in his head as his hands nervously sank into the murky soil under his body, inching himself backward ever so slowly. Sweat trickled down Sam's face and back even though the air was frigid in the subterranean duct. He would move his hands, feeling the slippery movement of slithering under his palms and fingers, urging him to cry out, but he did not entertain his fear. After pushing back with his arms, he would carefully shift his hips and legs in the same manner, gradually creeping backward out of the tunnel.

“Don't rush, Sam,” Nina warned. “Take your time. We'll wait as long as it takes.”

“I'm getting there,” he replied. “I don't think they are onto me ye… aow! Jesus!”

“Mr. Cleave?” Virgil cried.

“Sam!” Nina shouted with a hint of panic.

“I'm okay,” Sam answered. “Just a bloody thorn, or shard of glass in the mud. My flashlight is giving up the ghost so I can't pull it out right now.”

“Just get out so we can put some ointment on it. I have some antiseptic cream in my pouch here,” Joanne said reassuringly.

“Alright, thanks,” Sam thanked her in a shaky voice. “Christ, this little paper cut is killing me. Like a bee sting. Fucking hell!”

“Like a bee sting?” Joanne gasped. “Sam, did you see the thorn? Can you see how big it is?”

“This is not the right time to worry about trivialities, Jo,” he moaned.

“Sam! Listen to me!” she insisted, sounding mildly vexed. “Take a moment and shine on the wound so you can see what it is. Please. Please, just… just humor me.”

Sam obliged. Hardly bright anymore, his light fell on the place that burned and throbbed. The mud on his hand was stained with blood, as he expected, but there was no thorn; there was no glass in his skin.

“Sam?” Nina beckoned.

He was quiet, apart from a sigh that escaped him.

“Can you see anything?” Joanne asked.

“It's just blood and mud,” Sam reported, his voice beginning to falter.

With a very concerned expression riddled with subliminal terror, Joanne whispered to the others, “That sounds like a snakebite to me. I pray to God that I’m wrong, though.”

“Jesus! Oh my God! Again!” Sam wailed from nearby, just across the threshold of the septic tank. “I th-think I got b-b…” he started, but his words were interrupted by another cry of agony.

“Holy shit! They’re attacking Sam!” Nina screamed, bolting forward to help him, but she ran right into Virgil's obstructive hand which stopped her. The boat captain lunged forward in the weak beam of Joanne and Nina's flashlights, grabbing blindly around the edge to find Sam. Grappling wildly for a second, he groaned like a bear, pulling the injured journalist free of the dark pit and seizing his body tightly.

He carried Sam to the other side of the septic tank, shouting at the women, “Come quickly! Hurry! We have to get him to the boat or he is going to die!” They stumbled and scuttled all the way back out, trying not to show their frantic horror at the prospect of Sam's fate. Quietly, save for their panting breaths tufting out into the cold atmosphere of Martin Bay's rocky region, the group ran back to the boat. Reaching the Scarlet, the women took care of cleaning Sam up while Virgil hastened to get the medical kit to attend to the basic first aid the journalist needed to impair infection to the rest of his muscle tissue.

Abandoning their prize, literally meters away, the expedition sped away over the waves in the dead of night to reach the closest civilization they could find, hoping that Sam would not succumb to the nightmarish kiss of Olympias.