Stephen Lawhead - The Paradise War

I got up from my rock and walked to the other side of the cairn. Simon was on his knees, fighting into the thicket at the base of the structure. «What are you doing now?»

«I think this one is hollow.»

«Could be.»

«I want to see inside.»

«Do we have to do this? Why can't we just say we saw it and go home like you promised?»

«Just let me get a look inside, then we'll go.»

I shook my head hopelessly. «All right. Have your look.»

Breaking branches with his hands and wriggling like a snake, Simon pulled himself further into the thicket. I stood looking on and saw what he had seen-a small, dark opening at the base of the cairn, all but hidden by the undergrowth. Simon succeeded in pulling his head and shoulders into the mouth of the opening and then backed out.

«Satisfied?» I asked. More fool I.

«I need a torch,» he told me. «There's one in the boot of the car. Be a good egg and get it for me, would you?» He shoved his hand into his jacket and withdrew the keys. «Here, you'll need these.»

I grabbed them and climbed back up to the car, found the flashlight and slammed the lid of the trunk. Just as I turned from the car, I glimpsed a flash of white out of the corner of my eye-as if something had dashed across the narrow road behind and disappeared into the brush on the other side. I watched for a moment, but saw nothing more, and made my way down to the cairn once more.

I returned to fmd that, in my absence, Simon had cleared away some of the brush and enlarged the opening of the mound somewhat. «Here you go, sport.» I gave him the flashlight. «Knock yourself out.»

«You're not coming in?»

«Not on your Nelly,» I told him.

Simon doffed his driving cap. «Take this, I don't want to get it filthy.»

I took the hat and put it on. «Be careful, okay? There be a badger in there.»

«I'll give a yell if I bump into anything.» He crawled in the brush and pushed himself into the opening in the mound, where he squirmed for a few moments. Then, with a last kick of his legs, he slid in.

I did not hear anything from him for a few moments.

«Simon? Are you all right?»

From inside the mound I heard him say, «Fine. Fine. It's dry in here. I, uh… I think I can stand up. Yes.»

«What do you see?» I hollered. No reply. «I said-What do you see?»

«It's smooth-well, fairly smooth anyway,» he answered. His voice sounded as if it were coming from inside a sofa.

«Some of the stones look as if they have some sort of mar.. .»

«Markings?» I yelled. «Did you say markings?»

«Yes…,» came his reply. «Blue markings… mazes and hands… and…»

I waited. «Simon?»

No answer. I got down on my hands and knees and crawled to the entrance of the cairn. «Simon? What else do you see?»

I heard a low grating sound from inside the cairn-a sound like that of a stone being slowly pried from a wall.

«Simon?» I called. «Do you hear me? What are you doing?»

The strange sound continued. Over it, I heard Simon cry, «Good God!»

«Simon!» I shouted back. «What's going on?»

A second later, Simon's head appeared in the hole. His face blazed with excitement. «Something's happening. It's incredible! Simply fantastic!» He disappeared again.

«Wait! Hold on-What's happening? Simon!»

His face bobbed into view once more, wide-eyed and breathless. «I don't believe it!» he said, shoving his jacket out through the hole to me. «It's bloody incredible, Lewis. It's paradise! I can't tell you. You've just got to see it. Come on! Come with me!»

«No! Wait!» I shouted desperately. «What is it? What's incredible? Simon, where are you going?»

«I'm going in,» came his muffled reply. «Come with me!»

Those were Simon's last words.

I must have waited a good ten minutes-it seemed like as many hours-before I worked up nerve enough to go after Simon. I waited and listened, and every thirty seconds or so I'd call his name. I sat with my head near the hole, but I didn't hear a sound.

Tentatively, I pushed through the brush and stuck my head into the cairn. Pitch dark, as I expected. I could see nothing. Thinking that perhaps my eyes would get used to the darkness, I lay down and wriggled, kicking myself through the opening as I had seen Simon do.

As Simon bad indicated, the place was dry, and, to my surprise, a good deal warmer than the air outside. It smelled of must and mildew, like a cave. I sat hunched near the entrance and waited for my eyes to adjust. Even when they did, I could not see my hand in front of my face.

Still, I did not need to see to know that Simon was no longer there.

«Simon?» I called. My voice filled the stone beehive of the cairn. «Very funny, Simon! You can come out now. Simon?»

No answer.

I shouted louder. «I know you can hear me, Simon. Come out from wherever you are and let's go, okay? Come on, now. A joke's a joke, all right? Let's go.»

I heard nothing but the hollow ring of my own voice pinging off the stone walls.

My first impulse was to leave. But, on the off chance that he'd stumbled and hit his head on a rock, I crawled around the interior of the cairn to make sure he wasn't lying unconscious in the dirt. Starting at the entrance hole, through which a paltry light shone, I made a quick circuit, keeping my right hand on the wall. Then, just to make doubly certain I hadn't missed anything, I went back around the way I had come, and finished by crossing back and forth through the center of the cairn a few times on hands and knees.

On my last shuffle across the center, I did fmd something. I struck it with my knee and felt it spin against my hand. I picked it up: Simon's torch. I switched it on and swept the interior of the cairn with the small spot of light. Every inch.

There was no unconscious Simon, no crack in the ground he could have fallen through, no hidden passage through which he could have escaped to the outside. He was simply not there.

I collapsed against the rough stone side of the cairn. «Simon, you bastard, don't do this to me!» I cursed him and pounded my right hand impotently against the dry earth. «Don't you do this to me. Don't you dare do this to me!»

Anger, quick and sharp, seared me. «I'm leaving, Simon!» I yelled. «You hear me? I'm leaving! You can rot here, for all I care!»

With that I struggled back through the narrow passageway and into the outside world. Simon's jacket lay where he had left it. And his hat. I picked them up and stomped up to the car.

I unlocked the car door, threw the jacket and cap in the back, and slid in behind the wheel. I jammed the key in the ignition, fully intending to drive off. But I hesitated.

Damn! I couldn't just leave him there. I gazed out over the field towards the hidden glen, expecting to see Simon skipping back to me, shaking with laughter at his brilliant prank. I could almost hear him: «Really had you going there, Lewis! Ha! Ha! Ha!»

I pulled the key out and swivelled sideways in the driver's seat with the door open. I settled back to wait.

I woke at half-past two to find the late October sun diving low towards the hills. The wind had picked up, tossing the bare branches of the nearby trees. Simon had not showed up while I slept, and my patience had long since run out. «This nuts,» I muttered to myself. «Tough luck, Simon. I'm outta here.»

But, like a good Boy Scout, I decided to check one last tune to see if I could find any sign of Simon. Pulling on his jacket, I started down to the glen. Halfway across the field, I saw him-the man with the dogs.

Where he'd come from, I don't know; he seemed to rise up out of the ground. All at once, there he was, with his three gaunt white hounds straining on their leashes. The dogs saw me the same instant I saw them, and started barking wildly. My first impulse was to run back to the car and drive away But I stood my ground.