Downpour(1) Paradise Lost

Here is day 1 of my 2016 NanoWriMo. It's a sequel to my 2014 NanoWriMo Whiteout. I'll be posting my progress each day. Keep in mind this will be a bit rougher than my usual fare as I haven't had time to edit or do any re-writes on it!

 

Downpour

By Ashton Macaulay

     “The Temple of the Dead? This time you’ve gone too far Nick.” The lanky man slurred his words, and slopped down into a booth in the corner of the dingy bar. Most of the tables had dim lights above them, but the corner booth’s had gone out. The man seemed to forget the accusation entirely after he sat down, and instead became more interested in examining a half-empty glass of questionable brown liquid.

     Nick had always thought the bar could’ve done with some better lighting, but at the same time was afraid of what it might have revealed. “Well it doesn’t really matter if you believe me Marcus. I wasn’t talking to you in the first place.” Nick sat at the table closest to the bar, opposite a tall, blond woman with hair that looked as though it had been attacked into until it went straight. She stared at him intently with bright, green eyes.

     Nick wore a simple black collared shirt, and dark pants to match. He hadn’t planned on spending his entire night in a dive bar, but things changed. That wasn’t to say he hadn’t spent many nights drinking into the early morning at The Haven, but with his pockets feeling considerably fuller than usual; he had wanted to go for a more expensive drink. In the end, he had been seduced into staying by the presence of strong whisky, and intriguing company.

 “Where was I?” Nick asked the woman, keeping an eye on Marcus to make sure that he would not interrupt again.

     “You were about to tell her some lies about how you’ve been to the Temple of the Dead.” Another man had just stumbled out of the bathroom doors. He was portly, sported a long, unkempt beard, and had a crude crossbow slung across his back. Nick thought that he would have looked more at home wearing a burlap sack than the overalls he had somehow managed to pull over his robust frame.

     “They’re not lies,” he said with a sigh. “When have I ever lied to you Albert?”

     The portly man’s eyes glazed over, deep in thought. For a moment, he looked as if the flickering light by the bar had frozen him. “I think it was,” he paused, scooping up an empty glass from the table next to him, and trying to drink it. “Yesterday. It was yesterday you were trying to fill us with some cock and bull story about a man who fancied himself Bigfoot. HA!”

     “That one made the news Albert.”

     “Oh sure, The Local Eye, hell of a paper that is. Very respectable. I believe you now.” Albert let out a hearty laugh and zigzagged slowly toward the bar. “But that’s non’ of my business. She’ll figure it out for herself soon enough anyway.”

     Nick cursed the day that Albert had wandered out of his mudhole and into the city. He drained the glass at his side and motioned for the bartender to bring another.

     “So the great Dr. Ventner is a liar eh?” The woman sent him a devilish grin and finished her own drink.

     Never said I was a doctor. Thinking it seemed to make him feel better about not saying it. “Mostly, yes, but not when it comes to the job. I work in a very unusual profession, and it gives me quite a bit to talk about.” A sleepy bartender shuffled over and plopped a glass down next to Nick. It fizzled and popped as if very acidic. Nick swore that it glowed green for a second, but it had just as soon turned muddy brown.

     “Compliments of Mr. Albert over there,” said Jimmy, and then slumped away, returning to watching his television show behind the counter.

     “I guess he isn’t so bad after all,” said Nick, taking a drink, and showing her a roguish grin.

      “Even if it is a lie; I think I’d like to hear the story about The Shrine of the Dead.”

     “Temple,” he corrected her. “The Shrine is really nothing more than a tourist trap for amateur hunters.” Nick had been suckered into visiting it while he was still back in Cambridge. “The consistent supernatural entity that appears at the shrine may be real, but he’s a bit of a con artist.” Nick felt a pain for the beer money he had lost that night. If the visitor didn’t pay up, the entity would curse them, and while not fatal, it’s magic was nasty.

     “Right, excuse me,” she said, feigning boredom at Nick’s detail. “You were going to tell me about the Temple of the Dead.” She motioned to Jimmy and soon had a fresh glass of her own.

     “Right,” Nick said, sheepishly. “Well, it all started when I took what some would consider to be a rather ill-advised trip into the Amazon…”

I

The Jungle

1. Paradise Lost

     Rain slapped the windshield of the cockpit, and Nick’s stomach turned as the plane lurched downward. The old Cesna had come cheap, but Nick had begun to regret not purchasing the newer model. It had only been a few thousand more, but despite Nick’s windfall, he was still cheap. Nick sat in the back of the plane, trying to calm his nerves by drinking, but couldn’t seem to find anything but empty bottles.

     The plane shuddered, and he unbuckled his seatbelt to scrambled up to the cockpit. “Are you sure this thing is going to be able to handle the storm?”

     Lopsang sat in the pilot’s chair, calmly directing the plane through dark clouds. If it hadn’t been for the artificial horizon gauge, it would have been difficult to tell if they were angled up or down. “Oh sure, nothing old Migoi can’t handle.”

     Nick winced at the name. “I’m still not sure why you would want to name a gift after something that nearly killed both of us.”

     Lopsang smiled, “It’s the reason we had to buy the plane, isn’t it?”

     The plane dropped several feet, and Nick thought for a moment that he caught a glimpse of the jungle canopy below them. “Remember Lopsang, not all of us are immortal, and while you might walk out of this without a scratch, I,” a bright flash of white light cut Nick off, as lightning struck just in front of them.

     A moment of unrest crossed Lopsang’s face. “Well that was close,” he said, returning to his serene demeanor.

     Nick swore, but then spotted his flask lying wedged in the co-pilot’s chair. He bent over and shook it, pleased at the sloshing noise it made. “Just be careful.” He took a drink, and began to head back to the passenger seats. As he moved through the cramped cabin, Nick spotted a parachute pack stuffed into one of the cargo bins. He picked it up and put it on.

     Lopsang looked back at him. “You really have no faith in me, do you?” He chuckled again and returned his eyes to the tormented sky just outside the cockpit window.

     “Never hurts to be prepared.” Nick started towards his seat and fell into it as the plane lurched forward once more.

     “Woah there.” Lopsang talked to the plane with the whispering voice of one trying to calm a horse. “Easy now.”

     The sound of the rain splattering on the windows combined with the gale force winds and the whine of the engines was deafening. Their supplies had been tossed all around the inside of the plane’s cabin. Leather bound tomes were scattered across the aisles, mixing with knives, stray bullets, and various trinkets meant to ward off evil. Nothing is worth this, Nick thought, moving swiftly as one of the stray knifes slid past his leg. He hated flying to begin with, and if Lopsang hadn’t said clear skies when they took off, he wouldn’t have gone.

     “Do not worry my friend. Now is not our time,” said Lopsang with the same easy tone that had begun to infuriate Nick.

     “Don’t say that,” he spat. “That’s what people say right before the plane goes down and is never heard from again.” He squinted out the window and tried to get his bearings. There was nothing but uniform clouds streaking by, mixed with the constant pelting of the rain. Another flash of white illuminated the clouds in the distance, giving Nick a brief view of the hell he was trapped in.  

     Just as he began to feel a small sense of relief from the drink filling his body, a red warning light blared from the cockpit.  “Lopsang?” He called to the cockpit, wincing at the sound. “Maybe it’s just me, but that noise usually isn’t a good thing.”

     “Nothing to worry about Nick,” said Lopsang, pulling out a large book from beneath his seat. He tried to hide it, but Nick could spy the words Owner’s Manual. Other lights began to illuminate on the console until the plane’s controls began to look like a Christmas tree.

     Nick was barely able to tip the remnants of the flask into his mouth. The plane shook more violently, causing him to spill most of it. “I think we should turn back,” he said, feeling a numbness spreading through his extremities. Whether from the drink or fear, he could not tell.

With dull interest, he watched as Lopsang ran his hands across the board, trying his best to find the source of the problem. He looked at the owner’s manual and then back to the console, and then, suddenly the noise outside grew quiet. The alarm continued to blare, and Nick felt his stomach turn. He looked out the window, and at the engine’s prop, and noticed that it had stopped spinning.

More warning lights flashed and Lopsang looked back at him. “Alright, we’re in trouble.” The plane began to fall rapidly, and Nick watched in horror as the altimeter spun backwards. Lopsang however, remained completely calm, and did his best to regain control of the descent.

“What do we do,” Nick shouted.

     “You’re not going to like it,” said Lopsang, muttering to himself and fiddling with the console more, trying to get the engine to come back on.

     Nick thought he saw a certain malevolent gleam in Lopsang’s eyes as he figured out a plan. “Hell no,” said Nick firmly.

     “You’re the one who grabbed the parachute.” Lopsang was pulling on the stick hard, but the plane continued its mad dash towards the ground.

     “I am not jumping out this plane in the middle of a storm!”

     “Well, it’s either that, or you see how much those flight lessons you bought me paid off.”

     Nick cocked an eyebrow at him, still skeptical even near death. “Wait, why aren’t you jumping?”

     “And leave Migoi? Not a chance?” Lopsang patted the failing aircraft.

     “It’s a hunk of metal Lopsang, I’ll buy you a new one.”

     Lopsang set his jaw and stared firmly ahead.

     Nick stared at him frustrated, but also deafened by the pounding of his heart in his ears. There is no way I’m jumping out of this plane. This is it, I’m going to die, and I’m out of drink.

     “If you’re going to jump, you’ll need to do it soon, we’re going to be too low in a minute.”

     “There’s no way.” Just as he said it, lightning struck the working engine, and it erupted into a ball of flame. One of the windows blew open, and Nick felt the cabin pressure drop.

     “Well too late now,” shouted Lopsang. “Time to go Nick. We can’t find him if you’re dead.”

     “Oh don’t play that card.” Another light began to flash on the console, and Nick finally realized that he was out of time. In a moment of immense mental and physical struggle, he unbuckled his seatbelt, grabbed his bag from the seat next to him and began moving toward the back of the plane.

     “I’ll see you soon Nick,” said Lopsang, laughing and putting on a pair of antique flight goggles he had bought after graduating pilot school.

     It was difficult for Nick to climb to the back of the plane with it angled so steeply downward. He grasped the cheap, plush seats and used them like climbing holds to get to the emergency exit door. The red handle shone in front of him like a beacon of hope, but as he reached out to grasp it, a lump formed in his throat. Come on Nick, you can do this. He grabbed the handle, wrenched the door open, and was sucked off his feet and into the storm.

     The plane quickly disappeared, nothing but a red fireball hurtling into the clouds. He fumbled for the ripcord on his parachute and pulled it. His head snapped back as it tried to open. Above him, the ropes tangled and knotted, causing the parachute to falter, and barely slow his descent. The wind and rain scoured his face, blinding him to everything, until he saw it. The forest canopy rushed up toward him with immense speed, and he blacked out…