The Things We Bury - Part 2: No Big Apocalypse [Completed]

Chapter 5: From the Ashes (Part 3 of 7)

The roiling sea was like molten jade in the foggy dawn light, with cryptic messages written in the foam of the ever shifting wave caps. Barbara ran her thumb along the cold metal in her pocket. Its rounded edge creased her fingerprint, just as worry lines creased her forehead.

The wind loosened a tress from the tightly wrapped bun she wore and whipped it across her cheek. Before she could tug it back into place, the odor of smoke, wood, and tar filled her nostrils from the acrid strand of hair.

It had been more than twenty-four hour since she slept. Barbara was reminded of her residency years, when all she needed was a good breath of the fresh dawn air and winter's chill on her cheeks to refocus. Even now, years later, she felt her energy being restored as she watched the sun crest the ocean fog. All she needed now was a sign—some omen that would direct her forward, just as one had directed her to this remote crag in Maine.

When she had arrived at The Benbow Inn, they found the archaeologists in a small side room past the lobby. The narrow porch had been turned into a dining room, while the hotel's main room was crammed with work tables and equipment. Its original purpose wasn't clear, but as its only warmth came from the number of bodies packed so closely together, it was likely intended merely for summer lounging.

The windows rattled in their casements as the wind attacked them mercilessly. Somewhere beyond, the sea cliff with the endless Atlantic was hidden by a starless night.

"Dr. Frieden," Palmer leaned over the man's shoulder and interrupted his conversation. The white haired, bespectacled man stopped midsentence and his animated smile shriveled.

"Sorry to disturb you, but I wonder if you had a moment," Palmer said.

Frieden craned his neck around and it seemed as though his next words would be: go to hell. But then, his eye caught Barbara standing by the door, her overcoat still buttoned tight from the unaccustomed cold weather. A gentle hesitation invaded his expression, as though his mind was racing to interpret this new data.

Barbara gave him an encouraging nod and Frieden apologized to his companions and rose from the table discarding his napkin over his half eaten food.

Palmer ushered him to the door. "Mr. Jorgenson was very interested in your latest report. Unfortunately he was too busy to come himself, but he sent us to get a full debriefing. May I introduce Dr. Barbara Gracie."

Frieden shook her hand while looking her over as though she were dessert. "Doctor? Are you a specialist on Norse artifacts?"

"Yes." She said it simply and pretended not to notice the shock on Palmer's face, while she led them all back into the lobby away from the eager ears of the others. The loud dinner chatter had hushed to an expectant silence during the introductions.

Frieden muttered her name over a few times. "I'm not familiar with your work. Where are you published? Who are you with?"

"I'm with Jorgenson." Barbara spoke directly and left him no room for further questions about her credentials. "Do you think you're the only expert on his payroll? He sent me here to authenticate it."

"I assure you it's authentic." The man bristled with defensiveness.

Barbara sensed she had misstepped. Her harsh tone was only making Frieden entrench himself against her.

She said with as much warmth as she could muster, "I have no doubt. But I have my orders, and I'm sure you know how demanding Mr. Jorgenson is."

Barbara then feigned a flush of heat from the dank, cavernous room, which stank of damp wood and fresh earth. She fluttered her hand fanning her face and took off her coat, being sure to turn toward Frieden as she arched her back thrusting her chest forward, while slipping it over her arms.