Marapi
Drawn from a Distance
MARAPI will be told in two parts.
Through gritted teeth, she cursed at him. At all of them. Erika twisted and pulled, fighting against the taught ropes constraining her, hands bound behind her back. Spears were trained on either side of her neck by silent, painted warriors. They looked between her and the commander, a bone-decorated figure, standing between her and the volcano’s gaping mouth.
“NO!”
Bronx, New York
3:03 AM
Erika screamed, sitting up in bed. She was slicked in sweat. The moon’s diffused light through her sheer curtains covered the small room in a gentle, creeping blue. The tiny apartment vibrated with the constant flow of heavy traffic outside. Horns, sirens, chatter, incessant. Gripping her head, she rubbed at her temples. The incense she had burning was long out, but the smell of sandalwood lingered, a small mercy.
Erika jumped when the phone at her bedside lit up and began to vibrate. She stared at it, gathering her wherewithal. It was rocking slowly toward the edge of the nightstand. Erika reached for it, “tsk”. The screen read out a meaningless number. She answered, despite the hour.
Erika didn’t speak as the call connected, assuming it was spam or AI voice scraping. If they had something to say, they could damn well say it.
“Ms. McCullough?”
“Who is this?”
“This is Trent Mason. I was…your teacher, history, in 2010.”
“I remember.” She pulled the phone away from her face to check the time. “It’s- 3:00am, Trent.”
“I wouldn’t call without good reason. I apologize. I need- there’s been an incident.” His voice trailed off.
Erika waited, comforted by the connection with another human, after such a nightmare. The facts of which began to smear and fall away. Her breathing slowed to normal. The sweat started to dry, leaving a cool relief. She heard several men talking in the background from the other side of the call. She couldn’t make out the words, only that one was clearly giving orders.
“Listen, Erika…I don’t know how to say this without dragging you in.” Orders again, in the background. A growl and a hiss simultaneously. “They’re saying, about the incident, I’m being afforded a team. By the government.” A louder bark, she could make out the word “reel” or “real”.
“What is going on?” She demanded.
“Some experts are going to investigate-” Shouting now, two men in the background, scolding him. “How am I meant to get her consent, without explaining anything?!” The yelling continued. This time, she could make out “This isn’t about consent.”
Erika pulled the phone from her face again. Her thumb hovered over the End Call button. Trent’s voice was a mere squeak on the other end. She put the phone back to her face.
“-your location. I’m sorry. This was just pretext.” The sound of shuffling. “Hey!” Trent yelled, far in the background himself now. The call ended.
Erika looked at her phone. Back to the home screen. As if nothing had occurred. The dream might’ve been extended for all she could gather. Yet, the device was still in her hand. Her cheek was still warm. Her heart started to pound, hard.
Two Hours Later
Erika sat on the edge of her bed, fully dressed. A white button-up and blue jeans. Her shaking limbs began to settle after the first hour. The likelihood of the call being a dream slowly grew over time.
“My college history teacher.” Erika chuckled through the words, allowing herself to collapse backward onto the bed.
Two sudden, loud bangs on her apartment door interrupted her laughter. Erika sat up and held a tired chest. Forcing herself up, she stood on quaking legs, frozen at the edge of the bed. The back of her knees bounced against the soft mattress and its coverings as she teetered with uncontrollable nervousness.
Two more knocks, louder, harsher. With great effort, Erika made it to the bedroom door. Opening it, she looked down the narrow hallway. She flipped the switch beside her and a dim yellow light bathed the space, from the hallway to the front door, straight ahead. She stumbled forward another step.
“I’ll just peek through the peephole. I don’t have to open it.” Erika assured herself.
She made it halfway across the hallway. Metal implements could be heard, jingling on the other side. Within seconds, the door swung open. Erika’s eyes shifted between the uniforms on the other side, but in their rapid invasion, she failed to come to a number. the nearest one was pushed out of the way and, with authority, a gray-haired man approached.
“Erika McCullough?” He asked, holding a piece of paper up in his right hand, looking between it and her.
More than one of them were armed. She fought her instinct to run and hide, planting her feet where she stood. Afraid for her life.
Undisclosed Location
Approximately Six Hours Later
The blindfold was ripped off. She looked around, the room was unpainted concrete all over. They hadn’t bound her, only instructed her the blind was necessary. She was sitting in a blank room, with a wobbling cone light above her. Across from her, was the history teacher she was sure had been a delusion.
“I think we can talk now.” He said, after giving her a few seconds to let out rapid breaths and to assess the room.
“Why?” Was all she could manage, her darting eyes failed to make any sense of the sterile chamber.
“There was an incident, during the night.” Trent began, “Are you familiar with the Extremely Low Frequency bands?” He choked on his own spit.
“No?” Erika stood up from the uncomfortable steel folding chair. Doing a 360, she denoted two heavy metal doors. It was just them and one silent soldier in here, who refused any eye contact.
“Sometimes they’re called the Schumann Resonances?” He prodded.
Erika met his gaze again to shake her head firmly.
“They’re tracked for weather purposes. Sometimes, submarine communication…I guess that’s not important for our purposes.” He trailed off. Trent rubbed the legs of his slacks, clearing the sweat pooling in his palms.
Erika heaved a sigh, relenting her fruitless search, she sat back down. “How does this have anything to do with a mediocre history teacher, no offense, and some student from more than a decade ago?” She insisted.
Trent crossed his arms and huffed. “I’m actually quite prolifically published.” He argued.
Erika glared at him and motioned for him to reassess their situation. Within a dark corner of the ceiling, her eyes finally adjusted enough to spot a camera. A black semi-sphere.
“Anyway,” Trent began again. “I’ve been tasked with assembling a team of experts.”
Erika looked at him incredulously. Furiously.
“Remember your argument for ancient people, contacting ‘other entities’?”
Her fury became a torrent. She gripped her jeans to keep from tearing into him. “You just had me kidnapped from my home, for what?!”
“A tribe in Indonesia, allegedly, has been utilizing a nearby volcano to…manipulate the local ELFs- the uh, frequencies I mentioned.”
“I guess that’s interesting. Interesting, but it has nothing to do with me.” She insisted.
“Well, they got a response.” He said, allowing the following silence to fill the room with unspoken gravity. “I’m one of a dozen experts they’re bringing on. They’ve tasked me with bringing 12 folks to assist in my research.”
Erika guffawed sarcastically, “Why on Earth would you choose me?”
“I know you’ve got what it takes and well…I felt I owed you.” He looked down now, refusing to meet her eyes.
3 Days Later
Western Highlands of Sumatra, Indonesia
0700
Erika pitched her tent without assistance. The rest of her “colleagues” were looking at the mountains, the clouds, miscellaneous paperwork, anything but directly toward the laboring soldiers establishing their camp.
The contingent was a few miles off of Mount Marapi. They were setting camp around the already established research facility on the western flank of the volcano. The live-in researches had been cleared out before the group had arrived. No time to pack or compare notes.
Papers were strewn about the innards and some computers had been unplugged, a few were laying broken, parts spread halfway across rooms. Erika and the other researchers had been a good distance away in their all terrain convoy when the first soldiers arrived to clear the facility. Even from their distance they heard more than one shot fired. Erika had counted five before covering her ears. The young soldier riding shotgun in their hummer had tossed a pair of heavy dark green over-ear headphones back to her. She let them fall uselessly to the floor, still a hostile hostage. He rolled his eyes, but didn’t reclaim them. When they arrived at the loosely cleared plain, Erika silently snatched them up, tucking them into her backpack.
Military and Experts got the indoor quarters in the established research facility. The assistants got to sleep outside. On orders, they weren’t permitted to seek or speak with the local population. From what Erika was able to pick up from soldier chatter, the operation wasn’t completely incognito, it was been sold off as a survey of Marapi’s recent ‘unusual activity’. The more sensitive military materials had been airdropped in, in the middle of the night.
Erika entered her tent, she shuffled off a heavy duffel bag of Army-issued clothes and MRE containers, then tossed the backpack onto her small cot. She moved to zip the tent closed. As she approached the flap, that same young man from the convoy let himself inside with a large step. His dirty boots made a gritty sound as they stepped onto the clean Nylon floor. He was carrying a folding chair.
“Standard issue.” He shrugged.
“Don’t let yourself in here again.” She crossed her arms, refusing to look directly at him.
His features scrunched up and he looked down, he offered an apologetic nod and let himself out. Erika zipped the entrance closed behind him.
Main Camp
Mt. Marapi, Western Flank
1100
Erika was sleeping heavily. In her dream, she was trying to escape some festival style open air concert. She couldn’t seem to find her car keys, or her car. As she began to make progress towards such, the figures that had been spread loosely around the scene began to surround her location. They started insisting to her,
“Wake up!”
“Hello?!”
“Erika, are you there?”
She sat up in the hard, scratchy cot. The smell of wildlife and unknown plant matter reached her first. Erika’s brain swirled for a moment, recalling who she was, then where. From the other side of the tent flap again,
“Erika?!”
It was Trent. She swung her legs over the short bed and kicked the heavy backpack out of her way.
“Just come in.” She said with no enthusiasm. It was barely audible from the outside.
The zipper screamed across its spine as Trent worked it quickly. He came into view as the flap fell limply. The smells of the wild terrain intensified in Erika’s nostrils. Flowers, fur, humidity, scat.
“Sorry, did I wake you? I know it was a long night for all of us…”
Trent spotted the folding chair against the tent’s wall, next to the entrance. He gently grabbed it and unfolded it to make himself a seat.
“You’ve interrupted my life Trent.”
“I’m really sorry about all of this Erika, but it could be something that changes our fundamental understanding of tribal history and their ability to communicate long distance. It’s exactly what you-”
“I haven’t given that a thought in more than a decade.”
“I’d love the chance to make it up to you.” He smirked.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” A sneer grew across her face.
“I know it’s been a while, but I remember how much you like foot rubs.” He made gripping motions with his hands. “Nothing nefarious, just let me explain what’s on the docket today while I…help you feel more relaxed.”
Erika genuinely laughed. On the outside, she was furious with him. Inside, she was barely twenty again, shaking with nerves and anticipation. She remembered the wine, the thick smell of lavender, the soft hum of a lazy saxophone on his small radio. When she came back-to he was on his knees, sliding toward her in the tent. She couldn’t help but laugh again at the cheeky eagerness in his face. He grabbed one of her feet with a gentle slowness. His eyes darted between it and her, for permission. She didn’t resist, besides a showy eye roll.
“Unbelievable.” She broke the silence.
“But, better than nothing.” He allowed himself a small laugh.
“I have a job, you know.”
“I don’t doubt that your someone very important now.” He smiled, soft apologetic. “I think what’s happening here could change the world. They wouldn’t be taking it this seriously if not.” He increased the pressure with his fingers.
“Well, I’m here, what’s really going on?”
Trent’s smile brightened. “I swear it’s aliens. They haven’t given me all of the data yet.”
“Aliens are in the volcano?”
“No. I don’t know everything yet, they’re cascading the information between experts. From their most trusted, then down the line as they run into road blocks. I’m not very high up the list.”
Erika laughed, “Why do you think it’s aliens?”
“What they’ve given me. It’s wild. There’s a small tribe living in this area. They’ve been secreted away for a long time, even from the locals. Well, three days or so ago, the researchers here managed to spot their torch light, climbing Mount Marapi. Reports say they disappeared from sight once they reached the peak, or they doused the flames. After a few minutes, activity on the mountain started to go wild. A smoke plume, underground perturbations and, anecdotally, the researches at this facility say they could feel something like a live wire in their heads. Some sort of pressure. It came in waves. Accompanied by some sort of humming, which even the instruments picked up. It stopped just as suddenly. One of them was in contact with their local government around that point. Our ‘friends’ here won’t give me all of it, but I assume we have some sort of spy network that caught this. Has to be. Well, less than an hour after all of this, the researchers claim they saw a group of maybe a dozen gigantic black jellyfish type shapes, intermittently through the thick smoke of the plume, which was continuing to hover at the precipice.”
“What on Earth does this have to do with an ancient history professor?”
“I haven’t been a professor for quite some time.”
“Oh, I didn’t know-”
“It’s fine, research doesn’t pay as much, but nothing beats unearthing the secrets of our species.”
Erika didn’t respond. Trent switched to start rubbing her other foot, adjusting to sit cross legged instead of kneeling.
“Anyway, that’s when the ELFs changed. They’re frequencies that cross the globe, but typically, they’re read locally. Well, not that the military will tell me, but I think they accessed Indonesian readings of the Extremely Lows. What they will tell me is that the entire spectrum was fully lit up, quadruple norms. The local researchers picked up something even weirder. Readings akin to GPR, or uh, Ground Penetrating Radar, were observable. That’s when everything went wild. Indonesian communications got locked down, jammed, I suppose. The American military had eyes on the situation via satellite within minutes. I’m told they scrambled drones then, too. So, we have confirmed data of not only radar-resistant black jellyfish creatures/vehicles, but that they were reading data from something shallow and underground at the precipice of the mountain. When the drones got in range, they ran their own GPR. I’m told they found petroglyphs. Carved petroglyphs under solid rock.”
“What about the people spotted climbing?”
“Gone. No trace of them on the precipice, but reversing their estimated path, satellites picked up their encampment. They were living in a huge underground cavity. Radar picked up a few thin spots of soil and matted vegetation that they must’ve been using as ventilation and egress.”
“Hence bringing you in.”
“Exactly.” He smiled.
“And you brought me in because…”
“Your mind. Doubt me or not. You called carrier waves and ancient communication channels ten years ago, with precision, how could I not? And maybe I missed you.”
“Trent-” She started.
He rose from his sitting position and leaned toward her. His face closed in, his lips parted, waiting. She backed away on the cot, laughing but wary.
“This is not the time.”
He stood up fully. “I’m sorry, you’re right.” He looked to the tent entrance, then back to her, “Unless?” with a devilish smile.
“It’s not!” She laughed, shaking her head. She motioned with a hand for him to back off.
“Okay, okay. Well anyway, they want me to examine the underground petroglyph images first. See if there’s anything urgent to address. If me and the others can’t get a clear read immediately, they’re sending me to the underground cavity. My office is in the research facility. We’re in room 112-B, it’s on the first floor. Whenever you’re ready, meet us there.”
Erika stood up. She let herself release a breath she felt she had been holding in for three days. She placed her hand gently on his shoulder, so soft he could hardly tell it was there. She leaned in, then back away, patting his shoulder.
“Thanks, for the information, more than the inappropriate contact.”
“Anytime.” He grinned, and moved to exit the tent.