Dr. Alex Nolan II's Arc

Chapter 7 of 13

Nolan walked south through the morning, following the river as it bent deeper into the jungle. The artifact stayed warm against his ribs, quiet now that he'd stopped resisting. His left arm hung useless at his side, the brand still torn and raw from the night before. By midday, his vision blurred. He stumbled over roots he could see coming but couldn't avoid. The brand had stopped burning but the torn skin around it leaked clear fluid that soaked through his sleeve. When he tried to wipe sweat from his face with his good hand, his wedding ring caught the light. He'd forgotten he still wore it. The gold band was tarnished dark, the green stone clouded. Inside, his initials still showed clear. He turned it on his finger and kept walking. The shack appeared through the trees an hour later. Dark wood rotted through in places, vines with tiny purple flowers covering the tilted walls. He pushed the door open and found a single room, empty except for dust and dead leaves. Beyond it, through the back window, stood something larger. A stone building with iron bars across tall windows, steps leading up to heavy doors. The kind of place that bought and sold people a century ago. Nolan had read about them in archives. Had written grant proposals that mentioned them in footnotes. Had never thought much about what happened inside. He sat on the shack's floor and pulled the ring from his finger. It came off easier than it should have. He'd lost weight. Lost more than that. The woman who gave him this ring had wanted children and a house with a garden. Had wanted him home for dinner and present for birthdays. He'd told her the work mattered more, that she'd understand once he made the discovery that would change everything. She'd left before he found the first site. He set the ring on the floor between his boots and looked at it until the light changed. Then he picked it up, dropped it in his pocket, and pushed himself to his feet. The artifact pulsed once against his ribs. The settlement was still south. He could reach it in three days if the brand let him. If it didn't, he'd find out what it wanted instead. Either way, he was done pretending he had a choice.