clenched firm against my bones, as if it were a human infant grasping its mother's hand while suckling! My stomach churns just thinking of its ungodly, mutated form."
"Like a fool, I had not thought to bring a companion with me to fetch water, so no one heard my screaming as I flailed around, trying to fling this creature off my hand. It held on stubbornly and I became dizzy from the excruciating pain, heat, and loss of blood which splattered down my arm and all across the ground. I screamed and screamed until my throat burned. I was so frightened that the thought of trying to walk back to the fort alone, with that thing crunching my bones had paralyzed me. Then, in the midst of my screams, I was stopped cold by a sound more terrifying than anything I have described thus far."
"For a moment, I thought I was hearing an echo of my scream, which would have puzzled me more-being in the open jungle-had I the wits to contemplate it. Soon, however, I realized I was not hearing an echo, but the crocodilian creature itself was screaming! Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that it was mimicking my scream, for the tone was pitched perfectly to my own."
"I hardly need say that this astounded me so much that my body froze completely, and in that moment, the creature released me from its jaws and dropped to the ground. I cannot say if the sound emanated from its throat, for its mouth did not move, but it wailed a sustained note at me for longer than a goodly animal should be able to breathe. Were it not coming from such an abhorrent thing, I would almost imagine the sound to be a chime from a cathedral organ. I suspect the creature may have bewitched me with this tone, for I was too astonished to move as it crawled up the stone ledge and dove back under the water. How my skin shivers to remember its hands gripping the stones like a human!"
"All day, my mind has been in a daze over this. When I had my hand treated and bandaged by the doctor, I told him it had been crushed by a rock. What else could I have said? To my great relief, he assured me that my fingers were not damaged beyond repair and I will have full function of them again."
"What worries me most is the knowledge that a nest of these creatures lives beneath our precarious settlement, in the very water that sustains us. For surely, any place where this youngling would be must also house its parents and siblings. Who knows but there might be an infestation of them, ready to ambush us whenever we draw water? I do not know who to consult on this matter. Mama will likely die of fright, and Papa is too quick-tempered for matters such as this. One thing I am sure of, we must proceed cautiously for we know not how many of these creatures exist, nor how large they may become. He is a bit of a soft-skinned fool, but Father Miguel may be my only reasonable option. Tomorrow, I shall describe the entire incident to him and ask his advice. I can only pray that he will believe me."
In Spanish, La Fuente, the original name for Archopolis' underground water source. Historians believe the name referred to a natural spring, rather than a fountain.?
One
Present Day
"HEY, MARK," Aaron nudged his side with an elbow, "there's that weird girl I was telling you about."
Mark turned in the direction of Aaron's elbow. A frazzle-haired girl wearing worn jeans and a tee shirt was just turning into an alley across the street. She clutched a small notebook below her chin, and her head fiercely swiveled down, up, down, up, as if her eyes were photocopying the entire landscape directly onto the paper. As she stepped into the alley, just before her skin perfectly melded with the dark shadows against the brick, she looked back over her shoulder. Her searching glance almost immediately found Mark and Aaron as they watched from their cafe table. The furious brightness of her eyes, even from that distance, stabbed Mark's breath and held it in his throat. He felt a
"Like a fool, I had not thought to bring a companion with me to fetch water, so no one heard my screaming as I flailed around, trying to fling this creature off my hand. It held on stubbornly and I became dizzy from the excruciating pain, heat, and loss of blood which splattered down my arm and all across the ground. I screamed and screamed until my throat burned. I was so frightened that the thought of trying to walk back to the fort alone, with that thing crunching my bones had paralyzed me. Then, in the midst of my screams, I was stopped cold by a sound more terrifying than anything I have described thus far."
"For a moment, I thought I was hearing an echo of my scream, which would have puzzled me more-being in the open jungle-had I the wits to contemplate it. Soon, however, I realized I was not hearing an echo, but the crocodilian creature itself was screaming! Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that it was mimicking my scream, for the tone was pitched perfectly to my own."
"I hardly need say that this astounded me so much that my body froze completely, and in that moment, the creature released me from its jaws and dropped to the ground. I cannot say if the sound emanated from its throat, for its mouth did not move, but it wailed a sustained note at me for longer than a goodly animal should be able to breathe. Were it not coming from such an abhorrent thing, I would almost imagine the sound to be a chime from a cathedral organ. I suspect the creature may have bewitched me with this tone, for I was too astonished to move as it crawled up the stone ledge and dove back under the water. How my skin shivers to remember its hands gripping the stones like a human!"
"All day, my mind has been in a daze over this. When I had my hand treated and bandaged by the doctor, I told him it had been crushed by a rock. What else could I have said? To my great relief, he assured me that my fingers were not damaged beyond repair and I will have full function of them again."
"What worries me most is the knowledge that a nest of these creatures lives beneath our precarious settlement, in the very water that sustains us. For surely, any place where this youngling would be must also house its parents and siblings. Who knows but there might be an infestation of them, ready to ambush us whenever we draw water? I do not know who to consult on this matter. Mama will likely die of fright, and Papa is too quick-tempered for matters such as this. One thing I am sure of, we must proceed cautiously for we know not how many of these creatures exist, nor how large they may become. He is a bit of a soft-skinned fool, but Father Miguel may be my only reasonable option. Tomorrow, I shall describe the entire incident to him and ask his advice. I can only pray that he will believe me."
In Spanish, La Fuente, the original name for Archopolis' underground water source. Historians believe the name referred to a natural spring, rather than a fountain.?
One
Present Day
"HEY, MARK," Aaron nudged his side with an elbow, "there's that weird girl I was telling you about."
Mark turned in the direction of Aaron's elbow. A frazzle-haired girl wearing worn jeans and a tee shirt was just turning into an alley across the street. She clutched a small notebook below her chin, and her head fiercely swiveled down, up, down, up, as if her eyes were photocopying the entire landscape directly onto the paper. As she stepped into the alley, just before her skin perfectly melded with the dark shadows against the brick, she looked back over her shoulder. Her searching glance almost immediately found Mark and Aaron as they watched from their cafe table. The furious brightness of her eyes, even from that distance, stabbed Mark's breath and held it in his throat. He felt a
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