Lemuria by Burt Clinchandhill (most popular novels of all time .txt) 📗

and I can tell you, it’s the best outfit I’ve seen so far,” Jennifer answered, smiling.

“So, two days here and then on your way again. Where are you going next?”

“Indonesia,” Mulder intervened. “Java.”

“Also hot and humid.” Stromberg smiled. “So, Jennifer, forgive me for asking but how is your, um... you know,” he asked, clumsily, tapping his head.

“Cheers,” Mulder interrupted, raising his pisco.

“Cheers.”

“Nastrovje.”

“Proost.”

“Skol.”

“Salud.”

The men and women around the table sighed after knocking back their piscos.

“You don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable,” the middle-aged, white-haired fair-skinned lady at the table said to Jennifer.

“Thank you, Cotrina,” Jennifer replied. “But I don’t mind. I’m doing great. As a matter of fact, most of the time, I don’t feel any different than before my treatment.”

“And the other times?” Stromberg asked, widening his eyes.

“The other times, like now”—Jennifer’s eyes pierced Stromberg’s—“I can sense someone’s compulsive need for information solely for the use of gossiping and building his self-esteem.” Her mouth curved into a smile.

Everyone around the table burst into laughter.

Mulder poured himself another pisco and knocked it back again. “That’s my cue.” He slapped the empty glass on the table. “It’s been a long day. I’m turning in early, reading a little, and then plan to get a good night’s sleep. I advise you to do the same,” he said to Jennifer. “Tomorrow, we’ll continue the tour and take it from there.”

“Good idea.”

“Me too.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Everyone got up and found their way to their cabins or tents.

***

After only a few hours of sleep, Jennifer had woken up to the first-day awareness of new sounds in a strange environment. As long as she could remember, it had always taken her a few days to adjust to a new environment before she could sleep through the night. This night wasn’t any different.

When she woke up at night, she somehow always had to use the toilet. Thankfully, she remembered the route that Mulder had pointed out earlier that day. Armed with a flashlight, she’d found the small building that was tucked away about a hundred feet into the woods without any problems. Leaving the facilities, she noticed the night sky over the clearing. She turned off her flashlight and looked up. The moon was almost eclipsed, so literally millions of stars and planets lit up the heavens, a breathtaking sight she recalled from her trips to Africa.

Looking at the pale white, faint band of light, she remembered her teacher from when she took a summer course in astronomy. He taught her that the Milky Way actually meant galaxy. The root of the word comes from the Greek and Latin words for milk, more specific, the scientific name for the sugar in milk, galactose.

I need to get back to sleep, she thought and switched on her flashlight again. Nothing happened. She clicked the button a few times. The light flashed faintly but never came on. Not now. She looked ahead of her to the path disappearing into the dark forest.

As soon as she took a few steps onto the path, the little light that came from the stars disappeared and the night was pitch black. There was no light left burning in the camp, so in complete darkness, there was no way to orient herself, other than to try to follow the path. Carefully, step by step, she dragged her sandaled feet over the track, trying to avoid obstacles. For a minute or two, she found her way carefully, putting one foot in front of the other.

Suddenly she stopped. What was that? Voices? She tilted her head in the direction of the sound. Thank God. They were voices indeed. For a moment, she wanted to shout out but figured her voice would carry far and who knew who or what she would wake. Instead, she followed the path in the direction of the voices that became clearer with every step. When she could almost understand what the voices were saying, she saw a flickering light through the trees. She noticed another clearing ahead, but she didn’t recognize her surroundings. Where was she?

At the edge of the clearing, she looked across, where the forest seemed to end at a large rock formation. In front of the structure, she saw two men leaning against the rocks, smoking. She tried to understand what they were saying, but they were too far away. She decided to approach them, but as soon as she lifted her foot to step into the clearing, both men turned, and she noticed rifles hanging from their shoulders. She quickly took a step back into the darkness. As the men turned their backs to her, a flashlight lit up, and they seemed to disappear into the rocks.

The clearing was empty again, and the night silent, except for some nocturnal animals that cried in the distance. For a long moment, she thought about what to do. She pushed the button on her flashlight again, and when nothing happened, she smacked it a few times against her other hand. Still nothing. Shit. She took another look across the clearing, and when she was sure there was no one in sight, she decided to cross it. Tiptoeing, she came to the other side, where she noticed an entrance into the rocks.

In the distance, she heard voices and saw a shimmering light coming from around a bend inside the cave. She decided to take a look, and followed the path, her hands guiding her along the rock face. Where the trail took a sharp turn, a brighter light appeared from around the corner. Faint voices sounded from farther away, so she decided to take a peek. She carefully stuck her head around the corner. A small room with a few tables in it was lit by a single LED light—designed to look like a vintage oil lamp—hanging from the ceiling. She decided to take it a step further and moved into the room.

A small bench around the corner held a row of flashlights. That might come in handy, she thought,