I step back like nothing happened and do my leader thing.

"Omar, can you leave your flash on?" I ask. "I think I saw something else."

Omar backs up as far as he can and turns on his flash. The wall is now in perfect view and it's incredible. The detail is so in depth that it looks like it was drawn on a sheet of paper, not scribed into a wall.

"Whoa," Kane says from behind us. "Is that..."

"The elders," I say. "Locked in battle with a fourth. It also helps us understand where the legend came from-a starting point at least."

"What's he doing?" Nicole asks pointing to the forth elder.

Dad and I creep closer to further a.n.a.lyze the mural. It shows three figures fending off a fourth individual. The fourth has his hands up to the sky as if calling to it. Lightning rains down on the other three combatants along with fire and ice.

"Geez, this guy is bringing the kitchen sink," Kane says.

You have no idea, I think to myself, replaying the vision I just had.

"What does this have to do with kitchen sinks?" Nicole asks.

"It's uh...nothing. It's just a figure of speech," Kane replies trying not to laugh. "It means he's bringing everything he's got to the party."

"And then some," Dad adds still in awe of the artistry on display. I don't blame him either. What's even more amazing is that this image is roughly three-to-four thousand years old-maybe older.

"This also leads credence to the belief that at least one of the elders had control over the elements. Just like the legend says," Dad says in a trance-like state. "Plus, you have to a.s.sume that the other three had some talents of their own if they are trying to stop him."

"Um, guys? There's more," Nicole says.

She's turned around facing the other wall, behind Omar. Dad pulls Omar away from the wall and forcibly spins him to face the opposite side of the tunnel.

Wow.

These sets of images are a little more light hearted than the epic battle now behind us. It shows agricultural advancements, water travel in ancient ships and elaborate palaces. All of which is on an island, set into a ma.s.sive body of water, but with a coast off in the distance. Maybe the Sahara before it dried up? I think. It also curiously shows four people at the center of the ringed island joined hand-in-hand in celebration.

"It's...Atlantis," I say in a whisper.

We just stare and marvel at the sight. This is the first ever concrete evidence of the ancient island nation. No one says a word. What do you say when you discover something as significant as this?

"So, what happened to this place?" Kane asks almost saddened.

Dad and I look up at him and then each other.

"Some say a storm wiped out the island," Dad replies. "Others say it was a volcano that erupted. Some others say an underwater earthquake sank it.

"No one really knows..." I add.

"Yet," Nicole finishes.

I smile and nod slightly.

Dad straightens, "Because WE are going to find out!"

The moral is high and the mood is light...until the ground rumbles and shakes like we're in that volcano. Everyone stops and n.o.body breathes, five seconds later the shaking stops and we collect ourselves.

"Alright everyone, let's get moving," I say, glancing at the nervous faces around me. The words are empty. I'm officially scared s.h.i.tless, but need to be strong for everyone else-or at least pretend it to be. The worst part is that we will be moving towards the rumbling, but I decide to keep that nugget of truth to myself.

We all start on our way except for one of us.

"Keep moving Dr. Boyd," Kane orders. "They've been here this long, I think they'll be here on our way back through."

Dad wants to, but doesn't fight the big man's logic. It's like a paleontologist finding a dinosaur skeleton and being afraid it won't be there tomorrow.

"So, do we have any idea what to expect once we reach wherever we are going?" Omar asks from the middle of the pack.

"I have some theories, but nothing concrete," I say. The truth is every hypothesis I have going on in my head feels like it should be in a screenplay for a low-budget sci-fi movie. I'm not even sure I even have a real supposition to speak of, just my imagination coming up with anything related to our location.

"Honestly, I'm not sure myself what to expect," Dad answers truthfully. "All we have to go on is exactly that, theory." He says looking at me. "None of which has ever been actually proven."

"Hold up," Kane says.

I join him at the front of the line, quiet as a mouse.

"What is it?" I ask softly, barely a whisper. All I can see is that towards the end of the beam of my head lamp the floor gives way, or at the very least slopes down. It's hard to tell from our vantage point either way.

Kane puts his index finger up to his lips, the universal sign for shut up, then points to his ear. I don't hear anything. Then I hold my breath and close my eyes. In the utter darkness and calmness of nothingness I hear it.

"Is that...water?" I ask still staying quiet.

"Sure sounds like it to me, maybe an underground river?" Kane says. "Have the others follow behind you slowly, stay about ten feet behind me just in case." He pulls out a secondary LED flashlight, about the size of a standard Maglite and clicks it on. Our view doubles and we see an opening 30 feet or so in front of us.

Kane holds his flashlight with his left hand, palm down and crossed in front of his chest. In his right hand he has his gun positioned directly above it. He creeps forward as if he's holding a medieval shield in front of him ready to battle a fiery dragon except, his sword has a very different type of bite.

We group up behind him and carefully make our way towards the unknown. No one speaks. We keep our footing as soft as possible, which is easy considering the ground is perfectly smooth, like the finest marble floors in the world. I wish I had more time in this place to look around.

The tunnel's exit is just ahead, maybe another ten feet. We are about to cross the threshold into the next chapter of our journey when Kane holds up a closed fist, signaling for us to stop.

"Hank, would you mind?" Kane asks in a hushed tone.

I step up next to him, "What did you find-" I can't fully get the question out. In front of me is something I thought I'd never find here in this place. All the speculation surrounding Atlantis has been completely thrown out the window. This is one of the most incredible things I've ever seen, but also one of the most shocking.

Taking in what I can see from where we're standing, I can't think of anything else to say except, "We're screwed."

25.

The rest of the group joins us at the cavern entrance after hearing my reaction to what I saw and shares Kane and my bewilderment. We are at the edge of a canyon, easily the size of a lake. A really big lake. The outer rim of this bowl is round and looks like it may have actually been a body of water or possibly a crater of some kind at some point.

There are decorative stairs that lead down to ground level from our position. The staircase is about four feet wide and has no railings, which is unnerving considering we are a good 100 feet off the ground.

But the staircase is nothing compared to the scene before us. Stretched out, barely far enough for our lights to reach, is what looks like a pyramid of some kind.

Geez, I think. How big is this place? The monolith has the same step ladder build as the ones in the Valley of the Kings, in Egypt, except this one appears to be jet black in color. It's really hard to tell from this distance for sure though. Everything I can see within the range of our light is also black, like the pyramid.

I see Dad thinking.

"What is it?"

"I'm concerned with this place," he says.

"Um...duh?" I say. "Aren't we all?"

Everyone nods.

"Not for the same reason, Harrison. This entire section seems to be black where the rest is made of orichalc.u.m and beautifully ornate. This is flat, dark and foreboding. Not a good sign."

Now that he mentions it, I have been feeling like there was a presence in the air. Almost like there was something drawing me here-and not in a good way either. Ever since I almost fell to my death through the trap door, I've felt something. I relay my worry and the strange feeling I've been experiencing to everyone and get mixed reactions.

"Not good," Kane says.

"You're kidding, right?" Nicole says.

"Just wonderful," Omar squeaks out.

Dad says nothing.

"What are you so concerned about, Dad?" I ask.

"The color," he answers plainly.

"The color?" Kane asks.

"Yes, the color. The change from one room to another signifies a boundary and we've stepped through it," Dad says.

"What do the colors represent?" Nicole asks.

"Isn't it obvious?" He says.

He gets a blank look from everyone except me.

"Good versus Evil," I explain. "Or at least it represents it. Whatever is held inside that tomb is thought to have been malevolent in nature."

"Tomb?" Omar asks in a shaky tone.

"Yes, pyramids were historically used as tombs for the kings of ancient Egypt," Dad answers.

"They were also used as places of worship by the early Mesoamerica tribes, like the Inca and Aztec people," I counter trying to spin this in a positive way.

"Very true, but does this look like a place of worship to you?"

He got me there. In fact, it looks like a place of sacrifice and death, but I keep that thought silent.

I turn back towards the foreboding black pyramid speaking aloud, but mostly to myself, "Not a chance in h.e.l.l."

With nothing else to say, we just look off into the distance at the menacing looking structure. We are all terrified at what could be inside, but we are also intrigued by it. This entire place is like nothing that has ever been found before.

We start down the stairs towards whatever awaits us inside the mausoleum.

"Look, more inscriptions," Omar says kneeling down and tracing a finger over the writing in the stairs.

"But, this looks to be, Chinese?" Nicole says. "Or, at least an earlier form of it, like the proto-Greek from before."

"She's right. It's a type of Chinese script," Kane states.

I look over at him, and see he's already trying to translate it.

"You read Mandarin?" I ask.

He nods, "Speak some too, I did some off-the-books work in Asia a few years back. Learning the language came in handy."

His "off-the-books" work must be some of his black-op missions he refuses to admit he was a part of. Not that I've pushed the subject. It's not exactly at the top of my list of things to know right now.

"What's it say?" I ask.

"It's written just like Dr. Boyd's Greek text back there," he says sounding out the words, pointing back towards the tunnel. "The words are just a little out of order. It says..." He rereads it to himself first then recites the pa.s.sage. "You may not be permitted to leave until the chosen has claimed his prize. Please pray you are he."

"Great...another spooky riddle," Omar says standing up and moving away from the engraving, edging his way down a few steps.

Click.

There's a groan and a clunk that follows behind us, near the tunnel exit. Dad inches forward, back towards it, to where the sound originated from-when a huge slab of stone falls out of the ceiling and slams down on the top step of the staircase, blocking any sort of retreat.

The sudden bone jarring strike to the stairs sends Dad reeling backwards towards the precarious drop, but before he goes over the edge I grab his shirt collar and tug him back. He steadies himself on the stair above me and lets out a long breath.

"Okay, let's try to be a little more careful, shall we?" He says still looking down at the drop. He looks up at me and gives my shoulder a pat, a silent thank you.

"Sorry," Omar apologizes lifting his foot, revealing the switch he stepped on, setting off the b.o.o.by trap.

"So, down?" Nicole asks.

"Guess so," I say.

"Can we please just get off these steps before a boulder chases us down them?" Omar asks. I can't help but think of the scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark where Indy is forced to outrun a large boulder.