Authors: Angie West
I ran my hand over the bookcase one last time and flicked off the computer on my way out before stopping dead in my tracks
—
the computer.
I hadn
’
t checked the computer yet.
I had dusted the computer.
I arranged some nice candles around the solid oak desk that housed the computer.
But I
’
d neglected to look at it.
“
Jesus, Claire.
”
I hung my head and smiled ruefully.
“
Mike, if I
’
m your last hope you
’
re in big trouble.
”
As a man of science Mike was used to working with technology
,
as was I.
I was grateful that his choice of electronics reflected that.
His computer was fast and
,
in about thirty seconds, I was looking through his files
—
only to be disappointed again.
There looked to be nothing important.
“
Well, wait.
”
I looked again, rubbing my eyes.
“
Legend
,
”
I read aloud.
I opened the file and began to read.
Most of it contained the same story that I had read from his notebooks.
A beautiful and dangerous land and so forth.
I began clicking through his files at a rapid pace, fully alert now and scanning through everything, committing it to memory.
I came to a file marked CB.
Claire Bear
?
I wondered.
I
t
couldn
’
t be that easy.
Could it?
No, of course not
.
I swore and thumped a fist against the desk in frustration.
The file required a password. I typed in several guesses and finally sat back, staring at the screen in disbelief.
“
You know if I hear
‘
access denied
’
one more time this week.
”
I told the offending machine.
I sat back
,
folded my arms across my chest
,
and glared at the computer.
Then
I tromped into the kitchen to make coffee.
Leaning against the counter a few minutes later I sipped the strong brew and thought hard. That file had to be meant for me.
But how the hell was I supposed to get into it?
I could go back home, I supposed, and read through his personal notes again.
Maybe there was a pass code in there somewhere.
I had taken my time when I read through his notes, painstakingly copying everything down and translating.
I was almost positive that I hadn
’
t missed any hidden messages or passwords.
But there had to be something I
’
d missed
,
because he wouldn
’
t leave me a file that was obviously important
with no way to get into it.
I took another sip and tried to picture Mike laughing and smiling and so full of ambition.
Keep it simple, he always said.
For years he had been telling me how much better my life would be if I would just learn to simplify.
That was pretty much his motto and mantra.
Keep it simple
, I mused.
I thought of the ridiculous
‘
code
’
language he had used for the notebooks and smiled.
That
‘
simple
’
code had fooled and baffled several very intelligent and educated men
, because
no one ever thinks it
’
s going to be that easy.
CB.
Claire Bear.
I laughed and jogged back to my seat at the computer.
What if that was it? I typed it in and triumphantly hit
‘
enter
,
’
and
just like that my hopes were shot down.
Damn.
Okay, so that wasn
’
t it.
Well, now what
?
I thought
,
truly
irritated
.
Simple
, I reminded myself.
Focus and keep it simple.
Just like the notebooks
.
And then I grinned, recharged and typed
the pet name
in backwards.
Yes, that was it.
Just like the notebooks.
“
You
’
ve got to be kidding me.
”
I laughed.
“
Okay, let
’
s see what we have here.
”
And I began to read.
It only took two minutes to realize that I was not safe reading the file in the apartment.
I stared at the neatly typed pages, quickly hit
‘
print
,
’
shut down the computer, gulped the rest of the coffee, and shoved the papers into my bag on my way out the door.
***
My hands shook on
the
steering wheel by the time I pulled the car onto my street, heading for home.
I would finish reading there and then decide what to do.
Sleep was high on my
‘
to do
’
list.
I tried not to look at the clock that was flashing neon green in front of me.
Last time I checked it was after three in the morning.
Maybe if I didn
’
t see what time it was then I wouldn
’
t feel so tired
,
because I couldn
’
t afford to get tired at the moment.
I guess I shouldn
’
t have been surprised to find that my house was already occupied.
I gave a silent thank you that even in my exhausted state I was still sharp enough to take note of the little things.
Little things like my pitch
-
dark house.
I was certain I had left nearly every light on when I had left for Mike
’
s apartment.
How was I certain of this?
Because I had never turned a light off in my life.
I stopped down the block, considering.
The home that normally looked spacious and inviting now looked dark and foreboding.
I rubbed my hands over my face in the dark cocoon of safety the car provided.
There was no way I was going into that house.
I knew it wasn
’
t safe anymore.
I had expected that when I left Mike
’
s place a short time ago.
Truth be told, I was a little surprised that no one had been waiting for me in the parking lot of the quiet apartment complex.
If I were correct in the little I had managed to read
,
then I was now in danger.
Glancing over at the bag that held the cursed documents, I unconsciously shifted it lower in the seat while I chewed on my bottom lip and tried to think.
...not
that I had much to think about.
The truth was plain enough.
Whoever had searched my brother
’
s apartment had surely searched his computer as well.
This meant that as soon as the people looking for him knew I had the contents of that file
,
I was no longer of any use to them.
Quite the opposite, I figured grimly.
Judging by the dark house in front of me, I had to assume that they already knew I had the file.
Well, shit.
I needed to go home at some point. What was I going to do?
And the notebooks, damn it, the notebooks (the translated versions) were all still in the house.
Why hadn
’
t I thought to bring them with me?
I groaned again, stared pensively at my house and tried not to panic.
Maybe the power went out, I reasoned.
Yes, that had to be it.
I was just letting myself get spooked when there was obviously a rational explanation for the lights being out.
Who would want to kill me?
I gasped as I pulled up a little farther and saw it
—the
faintest of movements, but I caught it
—
a curtain settling back against the window.
To the credit of whoever was now in my house I probably wouldn
’
t have seen it if they had turned the flashlight off.
Shit.
So much for going home.
I hit the brakes and did a quick U-turn, doing the only thing that I could think of right then.
I went to a motel
...not
one in town, of course, but an hour away.
R
ed eyed and barely hanging
on,
the adrenaline crashed and the reality of the situation hit.
I was on the run
—
really and truly running for my life.
The
credit card
was shoved
back into my purse
along with my I.D.
before I
slowly
weaved a path
to my room
for
some
much needed
sleep.
M
ost people would think that one would be too keyed up to actually sleep
, what
with fearing for one
’
s life and all.
But truth be told
,
I was tired.
Maybe it hadn
’
t fully sunk in yet
,
but I slept like the dead that night.
***
Actually, I slept almost until the next night
—six
o
’
clock to be exact.
I was lucky that someone didn
’
t walk into my room and put a gun to my head as they stole my purse.
I
am
new at this fugitive thing
, I shuddered.
The smart thing to do would have been to grab my gear and get going.
I made coffee and flopped onto the bed instead.
I glanced nervously at the door before digging the papers out of my bag. The first page was one I had already read most of the previous night.
It was what I had been fervently hoping for all week
—
a letter from my brother.
“
Sissy
—
if you
’
re reading this then you
’
re involved in this mess and I
’
m sorry.
You have no idea how sorry.
I was hoping that it wouldn
’
t come to this.
The thought of you having to get mixed up in my problems was almost enough to give me pause.
But I had to do this.
I hope that in time you can understand that and forgive me.
I know that you must be scared right now.
But look at it this way
...
if you are reading this then you
’
re also smarter than everyone else involved.
John will come after you
,
make no mistake.
Don
’
t underestimate how far he will go to protect his own interests.
You
’
ll have to be very careful Claire.
Now back to the basics
—what
you need to know.
Five years ago I found something, buried deep in the Earth.
It was a key.
By rights it belongs to the African government.
I took that key, Claire, and for five years I told no one of its existence.
The key was unusual from the start.
It is a disc cut into two halves that fit together to form a whole.
It bears the symbol of a land that many believed to be the stuff of fairytales, or nightmares…an old legend
:
a myth.
The symbol is very distinct
,
and I have seen none like it before or since.
You
’
ll find drawings of the key that I pulled from a book and scanned.
The picture is a bit dark, but at least you
’
ll have an idea of what to look for
;
it
’
s not a large item and will be easy to miss.
”