Keepers of the Lost City

30 Nekenhalle Receives Her Guests

Just before dawn, the entire house was shaken by a shattering clap of thunder. Several yelps of panic reverberated throughout the Cockran farmhouse, followed by a light going on in the living room, where some of the men were sleeping.

“Jesus! Did you hear that?” Sam wailed, sitting up on the couch while wiping his eyes like a scared schoolboy. “Is that a thunderstorm?”

Sally came wandering into the living room, causing yet another fright to her guests.

“Oh, I’m sorry, boys,” she apologized sweetly. “I have a tendency to walk in the dark. Sorry I scared you. But yes, dear Sam, I saw the flash like rapid daylight outside our bedroom window just before the shot.”

Nina and Louisa came stumbling into the room, clutching at one another in fear.

“That was insane!” Nina shrieked. “Do you have many storms like that here, Sally?”

The lady of the house shook her head. “Not really, darling. Never like this. To tell you the truth, Nigel and me are as surprised as you are.” Her face pulsed in blue strobe light that cut through the window just before another ungodly whip of thunder. By reflex, everyone cowered, and in its wake came the rattle of the windows.

“My God, this is going to cause more catastrophe,” Nigel moaned as he came from the same dark corridor his wife had emerged from. The old, moody man pulled a shirt over his skinny torso and headed for the kitchen, where Sally had put the kettle on.

“What is the time, mate?” Cecil asked Sam.

Sam’s cock-eyed attempt at reading his watch took a while, before he replied, “It’s just past 5am.”

“That’s right, mate!” old Cockran shouted from the kitchen. “Time to rise and get your asses in gear for that long day!”

Slowly, everyone started to fold up their blankets. Some went to the two available bathrooms while others elected to hit the kitchen for Sally’s strong black strength first. Outside, the weather was more like Scotland than the southern islands, apart from the wind. There was not much of a gale, but the light rain permeated through the roots and soil. Above the entire Arnold Valley and Lake Brunner region, the clouds sagged in dark grey cotton wool tassels, an unusual turn of climate.

“This weather is going to make our search extra difficult,” Cecil remarked as he sipped some coffee. Gary stood next to his chubby brother, having a slice of toast from Sally’s first batch. “Last time a little bit of this rain chased of handfuls of supposed men,” Gary complained. “Let’s hope it doesn’t happen with this group.”

“I cannot speak for everyone,” Purdue reassured him, “but between Dr. Gould, Mr. Cleave, and I, you have solid companions up at Nekenhalle today.”

“Thank you, Mr. Purdue,” Gary said. “Will the cops be coming?”

Herman and Sully stood by the backdoor, opening it a scratch to survey the intensity of the weather. Sully looked at Gary. “I don’t know about the rest of the party, but I know Anaru will show up. That boy has been curious and passionate about that farm since he was a little brat.”

As he spoke, two headlights blossomed over the kitchen window glass. It was the police vehicle of Sgt. Mick Anaru, stopping under the protection of the dense tree line where the elders had come through the night before.

“Are you coming with us, Nigel?” Cecil asked. “After all, it is your livestock suffering from whatever is up there.”

“I’m coming with you, boy,” Cockran affirmed through a mouthful of porridge. “I’ll leave my truck here, because I don’t need it to get stuck in the wet muck at Nekenhalle.”

“Fair enough,” Cecil agreed, lifting his coffee mug. “I can take Herman, Sully, my brother… and Sam.”

Nina scoffed next to Sam, hiding her face as she chuckled by herself. Sam exhaled long and heavily. Purdue called to take Louisa and Nina with him in Sgt. Anaru’s 4x4. Inside the next hour, poor Sally was left alone in a house full of dishes and flickering lights pummeled by the iffy electrical boxes through the valley. In her hands, she wrung a dishcloth as she evaluated the damage. With a shrug she said, “Not bad for a group of foreigners. At least they folded their bloody blankets and put the toilet seat down.”

When Sgt. Anaru’s truck and Cecil’s SUV pulled up at the Nekenhalle gates, the grey morning did not have to influence the melancholy foreboding the black winding dirt road presented. Purdue made small talk while the think streaks of lightning elicited gasps among the occupants of the car. “So, Sergeant, has Constable Ballin taken the day off?”

“I gave her the day off, yes,” Sgt. Anaru answered.

During the brief moment of gear changes before entering the gates, Nina peered through the wet, diamond-riddled windows at the meandering pathway up to the ugly hill.

“Look at it,” she said plainly. “Even the road looks like a Black Mamba.”

“Thank you, Nina,” Purdue cringed, making her and Louisa smile. Purdue smiled and looked in the same direction as Nina, wondering how poor Sam was doing with his admirer in the car behind them. At once, he saw what Sgt. Anaru hoped he would not. “What are those?”

The police officer ignored the question, hoping the Scottish tourist would let it slide as something insignificant. However, David Purdue was not the type of explorer who just dismissed arcane symbols on a mysterious patch of land. “Nina, look,” Purdue said, pointing into the trees. “Do you see that? Anything you have seen before?”

Nina’s dark eyes grew wide as her fascination peaked. Fortunately, the vehicle moved slowly to navigate the deeper dents and potholes in the road, allowing her to use her phone to zoom in on the strange markers.

“Clever girl,” Purdue said. “I did not think of that.”

“Of course you didn’t,” she replied, narrowing her gaze to get a good aim while the sergeant’s driving became a bit more reckless to impair Nina’s photographic flair. Louisa leaned over to see what the others were talking about. She looked less surprised than Nina, remarking, “That one is Maori in nature, but it has some Aboriginal symbols on the other side. Go figure.”

Sgt. Anaru scowled at the Australian through his rear view mirror, but he said nothing. Nina took a series of pictures as they passed the different slender markers among the trees. Purdue could see the officer’s dissatisfaction.

“What is the matter, Sergeant? Are we not allowed to take pictures?” he pried.

“You know that is ridiculous,” the short response came from the sergeant. “Of course you can take pictures. I just don’t like it when people pry too much in native affairs.”

“Not prying, Sgt. Anaru,” Louisa reassured him. “I just recognized the sigils because I work closely with some Aboriginal tribal leaders, especially in and around Adelaide and Alice Springs. The Outback has been suffering poaching too lately, so I have met with what tourists would call shamans.”

“My, that sounds interesting,” Purdue smiled. He twisted his long lean body to face her where she sat behind him. “Anything you can translate on these beacons?”

The sergeant could take no more of the exclusion. With a heavy sigh, he said, “It means that we should not mess with this land. That is what it means. As you can see, many people have no bloody respect for those markers. See the chips of red paint here and there?”

“Aye,” Nina replied. “They painted over the symbols.”

“Precisely, Dr. Gould,” the sergeant sneered. “Bloody tourists interfering with holy things.” His eyes cut into the women in the backseat just as the two cars rounded the muddy mess of the open area outside the back of the farmhouse. Both vehicles stopped as the drizzle formed sheets of ghostly veils that gave the house, as well as the gaping mouth of the looming hill, a supernatural appearance. Black in silhouette and boasting its silent towers, the house of Nekenhalle reminded Sam of a ghost ship casually emerging from the fog.

“Shall we all first head for the house?” Purdue asked the sergeant.

“Yes, sir,” Sgt. Anaru confirmed.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, reminding all that it was still crawling along the land. Both cars vacated, the group gathered on the veranda of the house. Sgt. Anaru, Cecil Harding and his brother Gary still remembered their last scrap with the farmhouse, all looking a bit apprehensive about what could still be lurking inside.

“Alright people, thank you for aiding us in the search for Lewis Harding. As Gary had told us in his statement, there is a good chance that Mr. Harding would be in the vicinity of the mine entrance, where he initially vanished from,” the stern and captivating Sgt. Anaru proclaimed. “However, as you are all volunteers, I implore you to use the buddy system, alright? Also, you can choose where you search, but do take note that the police service does not take responsibility for your safety. Wandering off is a very unwise idea.”

“I’ll look through the house,” Nina cried immediately. “Sam needs to film the interior of the house for when he does coverage for the expose on Mr. Harding’s disappearance, right?”

“Aye!” Sam chipped in quickly. “We’ll get footage inside and if we do not discover clues as to Mr. Harding’s possible whereabouts, we will join up with the exterior comb of the place.”

He looked at Nina and surreptitiously whispered. “Ta.”

“I am going up to the mine,” Louisa announced. “Who is with me?”

“You are a brave lady, Louisa,” Purdue smiled. “I shall join you and the Harding brothers at the mine’s mouth.” Purdue was wearing a technologically loaded utility vest, and on his hip he wore a sidearm, as did Sam, both for which the two Scots had presented licenses for, at Anaru’s request.

Louisa nodded amicably. Her hair was in a ponytail under a baseball cap and she carried a compact hard case over her shoulder. Attached to her belt, an extending baton hanged down the top half of her cargo pants.

Nina and Sam were dressed in jeans and flannels, similar to the Harding brothers and the elders, Herman and Sully. They trusted in their Caterpillars and combat boots to tread through the rough terrain. The native elders had Winchester rifles slung over their backs by leather holsters and they also elected to head through the brush and trees that surrounded the entrance of the mine, working their way in towards the gaping hole.

Just before Purdue left with the others, he pulled Sam and Nina aside.

“You two, be careful, please. I don’t want us to end up as statistics, which is what this farm does to people, it seems. Williams knew this place was too wicked to leave to his wife,” Purdue whispered.

“What exactly are we looking for? Coordinates? Treasure?” Sam asked under his breath.

“The Lost City is here, according to all sources, Sam,” Purdue explained. “Only Williams would have known where it was precisely from here. Find hidden documents or some sort of beacon to the city’s location. Look, we are essentially looking for an answer to the mystery of Operation Eden.”

“So we are not looking for an actual El Dorado rip-off, right?” Nina made sure. “Because I have a feeling Operation Eden did not come from some beautiful garden city hung in fruitful harvests and flowing springs over golden temples. I think it derives its name from a place where deception was wrought by a serpent, if you catch my drift.”

“Aye, that makes perfect sense. After all, when one things of Eden, the first thing that comes to mind is a woman and a snake,” Sam conceded. “Purdue, watch your back with those Aussies. If anything happens to you, you’ll be facing another lawsuit when we get home.” Sam’s jest brought a smile to Purdue’s face and Nina laid her hand on his arm to reinforce her protectiveness over her friend.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Purdue gasped, fumbling in his backpack. “Nina, I want you to take this, just for protection. You never know where the monsters can rear their heads.”

He placed the small device in her hand, explaining briefly what Sam already knew from their previous use of the Taser-type gadget in Spain. “That is a powerful jolter, Nina,” Sam supported Purdue’s gift. “That jolt will being back Elvis, I swear.”

Nina glared at the small weapon with cynicism, but accepted Purdue’s generous grant of power. “Thanks Purdue,” she smiled. “If Sam gives me any shit, I’ll turn him into a crisp.”

As if the gods heard her words, lightning flared up the dark and gloomy doorway of the farmhouse, summoning them to their diligent task.