Chapters (57)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Contents
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- Part One: GDO (The Great Die-Off) 2020–2025
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Part Two: 2028
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Part Three: Awakenings
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Epilogue
- Epigraph
- Novels by Steve Alten
- About the Author
- Copyright
A howling wind blasted me full in the face, the cold air clearing my head. We were rising higher in a pitch-dark cave along what seemed to be a fairly steep incline. I could feel the cephaloped’s torso heaving as it strained to tow the two of us up the rocky path, the animal slowing as we progressed through the damp unseen elevation.
My ears were still ringing painfully from the blast.
The terrestrial squid stopped climbing. Cupping a handlike sucker pad over each one of my ears, Oscar applied suction to the ear canals—gentle oscillations that reduced the inflammation and calmed the eardrums. When the cephaloped removed its appendages the tinnitus was gone, sound returning in the form of rushing water.
After another hundred feet Oscar released me. We had reached the summit, the passage ahead now leveled off, the blanket of darkness yielding to a faint backlit archway marking the end of a short tunnel. Too tired to object, I allowed the land squid to lead me, my eyes widening in amazement as we approached the opening.
It was a subterranean chamber, so vast it could have enclosed a major city, its cavernous walls rivaling those of the Grand Canyon. Stalagmites as tall as skyscrapers were dwarfed by a ceiling drenched in the humidity of its own cloud bank. Petrified calcite enclosed either side of this titanic geological orifice, the grooved rock face bathed in emerald-green light originating from a torrent of river that split the vast underworld like a glowing serpent. Illuminated by the agitation of its triboluminescence mineral bed, the waterway seemed to run forever.
Standing by the banks of the rushing water, dwarfed on either side by the shimmering blue-green walls, I shared a perspective the Israelites must have experienced when Moses had parted the Red Sea.
And still, I had seen nothing.
We followed a rocky trail that paralleled the river, the echo of rushing water reverberating along the canyon walls. Bound aloft in one of Oscar’s tentacles, I heard Dharma stirring. Despite the cephaloped’s earlier refusal to help, the creature’s prolonged physical contact with the human female appeared to be healing her damaged nervous system.
ABE, what made Oscar change his mind about touching Dharma?
OSCAR WAS FORCED TO ESTABLISH PHYSICAL CONTACT WITH DHARMA AFTER THE CROCODILIAN ATTACK.
The croc … In my delirium, I had completely forgotten about the monster and its mysterious demise. Searching for answers, I held out my hand to my gangly companion, hoping to reestablish communication.
After a moment, a tentacle reached out, suctioning my forearm.
Oscar, how did that croc … that four-legged monster with the big teeth die?
ABE took several moments before responding.
OSCAR’S RESPONSE TRANSLATES POORLY. THE HUMAN EQUIVALENT WOULD BE CLOSEST TO “BLESSED HEAVENLY ONES WHO NURTURE.”
What does that mean? Who are these Blessed Heavenly Ones? What are they?
OSCAR HAS NO COMPREHENSION AS TO WHAT THE ENTITY IS.