Destiny of the Sands Read online

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  PROLOGUE I

  North Africa, 1941 WWII

  THICK smoke and dust billowed as a column of tanks and vehicles rolled into the ravaged town. Strewn amongst the debris were burnt bodies and twisted armored vehicles. The thunderous roars of the engines abruptly stopped. A VW Kubelwagen drove up to a building set up as the German headquarters for the area.

  The German sentry saluted as the car stopped in front of him. “Heil Hitler!”

  Not bothering to look at the sentry, the German officer in the vehicle impatiently acknowledged the salute.

  The sentry opened the door. The German officer and a civilian-dressed man quickly got out of the vehicle.

  “Look at all this carnage, Captain! How am I supposed to accomplish the Fuhrer’s task if everything is destroyed?”

  “Dr. Reichmann, I do not think General Rommel or the British take into consideration the destruction of ancient African artifacts when planning their strategies,” the Captain replied.

  “Do I sense some cynicism in your voice, Captain? You do not like what you are doing?” Dr. Reichmann asked as they walked into the building.

  “I prefer to be on the frontline leading my soldiers instead of assisting in a meaningless treasure hunt,” the Captain stated.

  “I understand what you are saying, but it is far from meaningless. Perhaps now is not the time to search for treasures, but when the Fuhrer personally ordered me to bring back artifacts for the German elite, I was not going to question his orders. Are you questioning his orders, Captain?”

  “No, of course not,” the Captain replied, taken aback at the implication. “My apologies, doctor.”

  “Shall we proceed, Captain?” Dr. Reichmann asked.

  “At once,” he replied, then led the way.

  The two men entered the main room in the building. Inside the room, gathered round a large table, officers and other military personnel were busy planning the war strategy. They stopped not far from the table, which was covered with maps and smalls models representing the offensive, briefly listening to the discussion.

  “It looks like General Rommel is preparing for an offensive,” the Captain said. “We will finally drive the cursed British out of Africa.”

  “I do not know about that,” Dr. Reichmann commented. “General Montgomery and the British have been able to take back what we have conquered.”

  The Captain bristled at the challenge to his military opinion, but kept a tight lip. He escorted Dr. Reichmann through the main planning room, towards the back of the building, to a room modified to hold prisoners.

  “This is Dr. Wolfgang Reichmann,” the Captain said to a guard stationed at the door. “He has been permitted to talk to the two prisoners we caught last night.”

  The guard saluted. “The SS are interrogating them right now.”

  “Good Lord! We need these men alive if we are to get answers from them,” Dr. Reichmann said.

  “We understand that,” the guard hissed back, offended at the remark. He had a strong dislike for civilian interference in military affairs. “We have the situation well under control.”

  “Things are proceeding as they should,” the Captain interjected.

  Dr. Reichmann looked at him somewhat nervously, and then turned back to the guard. “What can you tell me about them?”

  “We found the two prisoners sneaking around our camp last night,” said the guard. “They look like Arabs, but yet, different. One is old, the other is young.”

  “One of them was carrying this golden pendant,” the Captain said. “It seems to give off a faint electrical charge or something, and its warm to the touch. It also has some strange symbols on the back. I don’t know what they mean,” he said, frowning as he handed it to the archaeologist.

  Dr. Reichmann took the pendant. He knew at once it was ancient. He held it carefully, as he looked at the perfectly fashioned, smooth features. He felt the effects the Captain mentioned. It was remarkable. He had never seen nor felt anything like it. It was in the shape of an Egyptian ankh. He turned it over, and examined the inscription on the back. He could not read the ancient language, although it looked like Egyptian hieroglyphs. The craftsmanship was exquisite. “Incredible…” he whispered, astonished by the metal’s strange effects.

  “Shall we?” the Captain asked, motioning him to the interrogation room.

  “Oh…yes, of course,” he answered, barely able to take his eyes off of the mysterious and ancient object.

  The Captain opened the door.

  “Tell me what you were doing!” the SS officer shouted. Receiving no answer, he struck the older man hard across the face.

  “Father!” the younger prisoner shouted as two guards restrained him.

  “Heil Hitler!” Dr. Reichmann said. “Colonel, I have permission from General Rommel to interrogate the prisoners, but I cannot get answers from them if you use your SS techniques to knock them unconscious.”

  “Dr. Reichmann,” the Colonel said, as he wiped his brow, “these men are not treasure hunters. They were spying for the British.” He apparently knew who Dr. Reichmann was and what he was doing in Africa. “They were looking for something.”

  “I have some questions for them about this pendant they were carrying,” said Dr. Reichmann.

  “You can have them after I’m done,” he said dismissively. The SS officer turned and cocked his gun, aiming it at the old man’s head. He then looked at the young man who was still restrained. “If you want to save your father’s life, then talk. Now!”

  The look on the Colonel’s face told Dr. Reichmann he would kill the old man. Afraid and unsure of what to do against hardened members of the SS, he went to place the pendant in his pocket.

  Suddenly a high pitch screech pierced the air.

  “Take cover!” the Captain shouted.

  Artillery rounds smashed into the German position. Explosions rocked the building.

  “We are under attack!” one of the guards yelled.

  Dr. Reichmann scrambled to take cover.

  A shell blew through the wall of the building, killing a guard and nearly obliterating the surrounding area. The blast threw Dr. Reichmann into an opposing wall, knocking him unconscious. The roof began to collapse as debris rained down all around them. The lights flickered, then went out as fires ignited, rapidly filling the area with smoke.

  As quickly as it began, the artillery barrage stopped. There was a momentary silence, then screams and shouts erupted throughout the remaining structure.

  A bright light shone onto Dr. Reichmann’s face, partially blinding him as he regained consciousness. He coughed as he pushed himself up off of the floor. Shielding his eyes from the light, he tried to determine its source. The light was being reflected through a gaping hole in the wall, off something shiny in the field just outside the ruined headquarters. Whatever it was had been unearthed by the enemy bombardment.

  Off in the distance, he could hear multiple explosions and gunfire as the German and British armies engaged in combat. Dr. Reichmann looked around. The SS officer, Captain and guards were all dead, cut down by shrapnel, their torn and bloodied bodies covered in debris. He could not see the bodies of the prisoners. Dr. Reichmann assumed their bodies were buried under the collapsed section of wall and roof near where they had been held. The artillery barrage had hit the German position with deadly accuracy.

  Dr. Reichmann’s head throbbed, and his ears rang. Blood streaked down his arm where his now dislocated shoulder hit the wall. He checked himself. Remarkably, he was otherwise intact. Trying to ignore the pain, he stood up, but nearly lost his balance. As he struggled to get his footing, he spotted the pendant on the floor. He bent to pick it up, and then placed it carefully in his pocket. His archaeologist instincts taking over, he made his way over the tangled mess of twisted furn
iture, beams, and drywall, out to the open air, towards the shiny reflective object. He felt strangely drawn to it. It was lying in a smoldering crater, but it did not appear to be a weapon of any kind.

  Dr. Reichmann pulled his sleeve over his hand to gently touch the edge of the object, expecting it to be hot. However, it was surprisingly cool to the touch, but gave him an electrical buzz. Startled, he pulled his hand away quickly, and examined it, expecting to see a burn or other mark on his skin. But there was nothing. He rubbed his fingers together, the feeling vanished, and there were no after effects. He touched the object again, bracing himself this time for the strange effect. There it was. Again he pulled his hand away. There were no visible marks from contact with the object. It was a similar effect as that of the pendant, but much stronger.

  Taking a deep breath, he reached out with his good arm, and tried to pull the object, but it was far heavier than he anticipated. He fell backwards, crying out in pain as he hit his dislocated shoulder. He took a few moments to breathe and let the pain subside. He cringed as gunfire erupted again, but it was still off in the distance.

  After the pain lessened a little, he pushed himself up and tried again. This time he braced himself, and with a firm grip with his uninjured arm, he heaved with all of his remaining strength. Ignoring the strange buzzing sensation emanating from the object, he managed to pull it free from where it was lodged in the crater. The pain that flashed through his body from the exertion nearly knocked him unconscious. He fell to his knees and threw up the shock of pain was so great.

  Finally, as the waves of pain coursing through his body began to subside, he gathered his strength and got up again to look over at his find. He was astonished. It appeared completely undamaged. How that was possible, considering the devastation all around it, he had no idea. The strange object was round, approximately four feet in diameter and had a burnished bronze, slightly gold-ish color. Dr. Reichmann examined it closely, assuming it was actually made of bronze or gold, but to his surprise, it seemed to be created from something else entirely. It also had a weight that far exceeded what one would expect for its size. There were strange hieroglyphs inscribed on it, incredibly precise and detailed work. Dr. Reichmann knew they were not Egyptian hieroglyphs, but they looked eerily similar. He knew the large disk was ancient. He then examined the surrounding area where the object was found. It had been all but obliterated.

  ‘An artillery shell landed right above it,’ Dr. Reichmann thought, ‘such a blast should have severely damaged or destroyed this thing.’ Yet he could not find a single scratch on the enigmatic disk. It was beautiful, he marveled, as though neither man, nor time itself could damage it. Most puzzlingly, it radiated some kind of energy, the same as his mysterious pendant. He felt powerfully, almost magnetically drawn to the disk.

  He felt beads of sweat rolling down his temples and his back, both from the heat and injuries he felt, and from a terrible sense of unease that was gripping him. “What is this thing?” he asked himself.

  PROLOGUE II

  Events of Secret of the Sands, Circa 10,000 B.C.

  ZHEK Draxen and seven of his soldiers were in furious pursuit of the priests, who were desperately fleeing to their temple. ‘They think they will be safe there?’ he thought to himself. ‘Hope is not their ally this night.’ Zhek steeled himself. He intended to take the incriminating book from them and destroy it. They had kept records of his family’s doings for generations, things the Draxens did not want made public. He would make the priests pay for their treacherous acts against his proud family.

  Two of Zhek’s soldiers bashed their way through the double doors of the entrance, which had been hastily barred. As they ran inside, they inhaled a deadly powder thrown into their faces by the waiting priests. A swift death was their fate as the powder burned and choked them. The priests would defend the secrets they kept no matter the cost. A third soldier ran in, but he, too, quickly fell to the killing skill of a priest. Blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth, mixing with the lethal powder.

  Zhek rushed in with two more of his soldiers, seeing at once what the priests had done. He burned with rage. Surrounding the remaining priests, who were outnumbered two-to-one, Zhek and his men wasted no time. They lunged, savagely thrusting their swords into the bellies of the priests. The priests gasped as they fell. Blood stained the once pristine white robes as they collapsed in crumpled heaps.

  Zhek looked down at the dying priests, his eyes afire with hate. “May your deaths give you no peace,” he said as he seethed at them. He turned to his soldiers, “Come, we must find the book!”

  A piercing scream cut the air and before he could duck away, a young priest had grabbed one of the swords from a fallen soldier and went straight for Zhek, cutting him deeply on his right hand. Zhek cried out. The pain fueled his rage further. He struck the priest down with a savage blow from his uninjured hand. “I will kill you all!” Zhek yelled, readying his sword to attack again.

  Suddenly, a brilliant blue light surged through the temple, enveloping everything.

  Panicking, Zhek ran to find shelter. He did not know what was happening. He raced to an inner chamber, the priests’ private sanctuary for prayers and reflection. It was a small, plain room with a central focus. A large golden bronze-colored disk hung on the wall facing him above a simple, unadorned altar. Directly across from the disk, was a small, square window.

  Just then, everything around him started to shake violently. The disk, with its heavy weight, was now banging against the wall. Thunderous roars quickly followed. Zhek turned to look back beyond the entrance to the small sanctuary, through to the temple doors. The night sky was flooded with the unnatural blue light. Strong vibrations tore through the building. Wood and stone fell all around. Walls and columns and beams collapsed in quick succession. The intense blue light expanded, shimmering and growing more blinding. The air grew hot.

  Zhek threw himself beneath the altar, as the temple now burned out of control. He could feel powerful vibrations pounding continuously through the floor, the walls, his chest, and they were becoming stronger second by second. He felt death’s fingers around him. He curled up into a ball, covering himself with his arms. At once, the wall behind him fell to the lashing heat and intense vibrations. The large metal Sun Disk, which hung overhead, fell heavily, delivering a glancing blow to his head, rendering him unconscious.

  Some time later, Zhek awoke in searing agony. The pain he felt was an incredible shock. He tried to cry out, but his lungs felt burned. His throat felt as if he had swallowed acid. The heavy metal disk lay on him heavily, but it was mercifully cool to the touch. It covered most of his body, as he was still curled up in the fetal position, except for part of his face, arm and left hand. The exposed skin was badly burned and his head and face were cut where the disk had hit him.

  His mind raced as it tried to make sense of his surroundings. Strangely he could hear no sounds, nothing at all. It was as though he was caught in a nightmarish vacuum. It was unnerving. He willed himself to move. He tried to push the disk off him, but his strength was nearly gone. He felt a strange buzz and he was hot. He shifted. Another shot of pain. The disk had also hit his leg, deeply bruising it, but it was not broken. Finally, he decided to make one quick motion to roll out from under the disk. As he did, his body was wracked with pain. He tried to scream, but he could only utter a sickening, gurgling, guttural sound. He coughed up blood. His head swam. It felt like every nerve ending in his body was on fire. Zhek looked at the golden bronze-colored disk engraved with the ancient language. He thought of the irony that what he once considered a useless religious icon had just saved his life. He shook. He closed his eyes, trying to steady himself.

  After a few minutes, his shaking started to subside. He tried to calm his mind and come to grips with the intense pain he felt. He opened his eyes and looked around. The ground was smoking, blackened. The temple was destroyed - nothing
but smoldering, charred ruins. His soldiers, the priests, everything and everyone - gone. The air had an acrid smell to it. He tried to stand up, but his leg throbbed and buckled. He fell again. He was bleeding badly. As he pushed himself back up he saw a sword, then another. Confused, he looked around where the temple had once stood. His men had not simply vanished. They had been incinerated where they stood.