Preston Child - Mystery of the Amber Room

“Something doesn't seem right. I am just going to call his pilot and get to the bottom of this,” she announced.

“Fine. But we can't be late for our own flight, so get your stuff and let's go,” he said, tapping her on the shoulder.

Nina had forgotten about the man who had pointed her to Purdue's disappearance in the first place over trying to think where her former lover could be. Boarding the plane, they both switched off their phones.

When Detlef tried to contact Nina again, he was met with another dead end, leaving him infuriated, immediately thinking that he was being played. If Purdue's female associate wanted to protect him by eluding the widower of the woman Purdue killed, Detlef figured, he would have to resort to what he had been trying to avoid.

From somewhere in Gabi's little office, he heard a hissing sound. At first, Detlef ignored it as an outside noise, but soon after it turned into static crackling. The widower listened to locate the origin of the sound. It sounded like someone hopping through channels on a radio and occasionally a scratchy voice would come through in unintelligible muttering, but no music. Detlef moved quietly toward the spot where the white noise was growing louder.

Finally, he looked down to the air vent just above the floor of the room. It was half concealed by the drapes, but there was no doubt that this was where the sound was coming from. Feeling the need to uncover the mystery, Detlef went to get his toolbox.

On the flight back to Edinburgh Sam had a hard time keeping Nina calm. She was worried about Purdue, especially since she couldn't use her phone during the long flight. Unable to call his crew to confirm his whereabouts, she was extremely restless for most of the flight.

“There is nothing we can do right now, Nina,” Sam said. “Just take a nap or something until we land. Time flies when you're sleeping,” he winked.

She gave him one of her looks — one of that kind she tossed him when there were too many witnesses for anything more physical.

“Look, we will call the pilot as soon as we are there. Until then you may as well relax,” he suggested. Nina knew he was right, but she just could not help but feel something was amiss.

“You know I will never be able to sleep. When I worry I can't function properly until I have closure,” she grunted, folding her arms and leaning back and closing her eyes so she didn't have to deal with Sam. In turn, he rummaged through his carry-on bag, looking for something to do.

“Peanuts! Shh, don't tell the cabin crew,” he whispered at Nina, but she ignored his attempts at humor, flashing the small packet of peanuts and shaking it. With her eyes shut, he figured it would be best to leave her be. “Yeah, maybe you should get some rest.”

She said nothing. In the dark of the locked-out world, Nina wondered if her ex-lover and friend had just forgotten to contact his assistant, as Sam had suggested. If that were the case, Purdue certainly had a good talking to on the way. She did not like being worried about things that might turn out to be nothing, particularly with her tendency to overanalyze things. Occasionally, the turbulence of the flight would shake her from her light sleep. Nina did not realize how long she had been dozing on and off. It felt like minutes, but it stretched for over an hour.

Sam slammed his hand down on hers where her fingers rested on the edge of her arm rest. Instantly annoyed, Nina's eyes shot open to sneer at her companion, but he was not being silly this time. There was also no turbulence that might have startled him. But then Nina was shocked to see Sam stiffening all over, similar to the seizure she had witnessed back in the village a few days ago.

“Jesus! Sam!” she said under her breath, trying not to draw attention yet. She grabbed his wrist with her other hand, trying to pry it loose, but he was too strong. “Sam!” she ground out. “Sam, wake up!” She tried to keep her voice low, but his convulsions started to draw attention.

“What is wrong with him?” a plump lady on the other side of the isle asked.

“Please, just give us a moment,” Nina snapped as amicably as she could. His eyes shot open, once again milky and absent. “Oh God no!” she moaned a little louder this time as despair gripped her, fearing what might happen. Nina remembered what had happened to the man he had touched during his last seizure.

“Excuse me, ma'am,” the stewardess interrupted Nina's struggle. “Is anything wrong?” But as she asked, the flight attendant saw Sam's eerie eyes staring up to the ceiling “Oh shit,” she muttered in alarm before going to the intercom to ask if there was a doctor among the passengers. Everywhere people turned to see what the commotion was about; some shrieked and others hushed their conversations.

As Nina watched, Sam's mouth opened and closed rhythmically. “Oh, Christ! Don't talk. Please don't talk,” she prayed as she watched him. “Sam! You have to wake up!”

Through the clouds of his consciousness, Sam could hear her voice begging from far away. Once again she had been walking next to him toward the well, but this time, the world was red. The sky was maroon, and the ground was dark orange, like brick dust under his feet. He could not see Nina, even though he knew in his vision that she was present.

When Sam reached the well, he did not ask for a cup, yet there was an empty cup on the crumbling wall. He bent forward again to look down the well. Before him, he saw the deep cylindrical interior, but this time, the water was not deep down in the shadows. Below him was a well full of pristine water.

“Please help! He is choking!” Sam heard Nina scream from somewhere far away.

Below, in the well, Sam saw Purdue reaching up.

“Purdue?” Sam frowned. “What are you doing in the well?”

Purdue was gasping for air as his face barely broke the surface. He was coming up towards Sam as the water rose higher and higher, looking terrified. Ashen and desperate, his face contorted as his hands clawed at the sides of the well. Purdue's lips were blue, and he had dark circles under his eyes. Sam could see that his friend was naked in the churning water, but when he reached in to rescue Purdue, the water level dropped considerably.

“He cannot seem to breathe. Is he asthmatic?” another male voice came from the same place as Nina’s.

Sam looked around, but he was alone in the red wasteland. In the distance, he could see a broken-down old building reminiscent of a power station. Black shadows lived beyond the four or five stories of empty window openings. No smoke rose from the towers, and the walls had sprung large weeds through cracks and crevices brought by years of neglect. From far away, deep in his being, he could hear an incessant hum ensue. It grew louder ever so slightly until he recognized it as a generator of sorts.

“We need to open his airway! Pull his head back for me!” he heard the male voice again, but Sam tried to make out the other sound, the impending hum that was still growing louder, possessing the entire wasteland until the ground began to shake.

“Purdue!” he shouted, trying one more time to save his friend. When he looked back into the well, it was empty, save for the sigil that was painted on the bottom's wet, muddy floor. He knew it all too well. The black circle with the precise rays that looked like lightning streaks lay in silence at the bottom of the cylinder like a spider in wait. Sam gasped. “The Order of the Black Sun.”

“Sam! Sam, can you hear me?” Nina persisted, her voice drawing closer from the dusty air of the deserted place. The industrial hum escalated to a deafening level and then the same pulse he had seen under hypnosis clapped through the atmosphere. This time, nobody else was there who could have been burned to ashes. Sam screamed as the waves of the pulse came toward him, forcing its blistering hot air into his nose and mouth. As it made contact with him, he was spirited away in the nick of time.