Three AM, and they were in the desert at least eighty miles from Vegas, not even in the county any more. "This is the place alright, at least according to the car's GPS. I still don't understand why the readings abruptly stopped like that." Sara Sidle squatted by the side of the road. "Looks like the car left the road right here. Let's follow the tire tracks."
Greg Sanders got back into the car and sighed. "The car wasa Ferrari. Kid probably pulled the GPS, sold the car and took off," he muttered softly. "Only reason we're on this case is his Dad's filthy rich."
" Tracks stop up ahead. What in the HELL is that?" Sara pointed at the large depressed black stone triangle in front of them. Each side spanned close to 100 feet, and the entire thing appeared to be covered in some kind of writing.
Greg frowned. "This is weird, Sara; really, really weird. " He opened the door and walked over to the edge. "It's polished, and the writing is metallic. It doesn't look like any language I've ever seen."
Sara stepped up beside him, standing close. "The car tracks go right up to the edge - then nothing."
"You think this thing had something to do with the disappearance?" Greg looked around and shivered.
"I don't see how, though I would very much like to know where the car went. "
"Maybe they drove across and came out on the other side?"
"That could be, if the stone floor wasn't six feet below the surrounding desert. If he drove in, he'd have had to be lifted out. I see no evidence of any other vehicle, let alone one that could do that."
"Sara. It's been windy today. Why is there no sand in there?" The depressed stone surface was as clean and shiny as
She looked around. The depressed stone surface was clean and shiny."I don't know... the sand is blowing as we speak, and... oh, Greg..." She went pale. "Something's stopping it. It's blowing up to the edge, but it's stopping and blowing back, like it's hitting a barrier of some kind. This is weird..." She moved to step forward, but was pulled backward by hands on her arms.
Greg's voice was tense. "Sara. We need to get the fuck out of here. Right now." He pulled her back another step, looked at the sunken stone floor, then at their Denali. Their front wheels, formerly at least eight feet from the structure, cleared the edge byfive inches or less. "It's getting bigger."
"It can't be... Oh, shit..."
Greg had never moved so fast in his life, and he seriously doubted Sara had, either. Both of them were in the vehicle in moments. "Hurry up! We're right on the edge now!"
"It won't crank!" She turned the key a second time, and a third. "Nothing."
"I'll get out and check..." He never got to, never even completed his sentence because they were falling, spinning, landing with a soft thump.
"What in the hell..." She shook her head. "Greg? You okay?"
"No, Sara, I'm not. I'm hallucinating. I have to be because it's three in the morning in the middle of the desert, but the sun is shining and we're in a meadow full of flowers, and over there I see a waterfall..."
She took a deep breath. "I hate to break it to you, but this isn't an hallucination. I'm seeing the same thing..."