The Hunt For Immortality

Chapter One

As I lean against the dark wood of the bar, I gesture to the bartender. He raises his hand in acknowledgement before once again turning to the giggling blonde bombshell at the end of the bar. I mean sure, right now I am dripping mud from my boots, and water from well everywhere but still, a girl really needs a drink after the day that I have had.

6 Hours Earlier

Reaching the last few inches my fingertips brush the edge of the relic I had been hired to grab. It moves ever so slightly further out of my reach. Lowering myself further from the ceiling, I try once again to grab it, unfortunately the movement down causes me to begin to spin. As I spin around I attempt to correct my course but unfortunately it is too late. My foot smacks into the relic and it falls to the ground, shattering on impact. “CRAP!” I curse out loud. Without the relic there is no pay. Without pay, I can’t make rent. While all these thoughts are rushing through my head I barely notice that the chamber is beginning to fill with water. I start to activate the motor attached to the cable suspending me from the ceiling but before it can begin to lift me, the cable snaps. For a moment I am suspended in the air before gravity takes its toll and I fall. Hitting the still rising water with a splash, I am momentarily stunned and open my mouth. It instantly fills with water making me cough and splutter as I stand in the now knee high water. Raising my eyes back to the ceiling I once again swear. It’s so far away and the water keeps rising, it's now up to my hips. 

I glance around, hunting for a way out. There is no way that I am going to die in some old, forgotten temple in the middle of nowhere. I mean, come on, could a treasure hunter like myself dying in a temple be anymore of a cliché? Resigning myself to the fact that the only way to get out, may be to wait until the water rises, tread water and climb back through the hole I made to come through. 

What seems like forever later and I can finally pull myself out of the ground. Struggling a little I slip several times , falling back into the water to the point I probably look like a drowned rat. Trudging back through the dense jungle, I soon find myself coated in mud and who knows what else.

Present Time

Seeing that the bartender is obviously busy, I reach over the bar and grab a bottle. Looking at it and seeing that it is not the bourbon I so crave, I reach over again and grab another. Finding what I am looking for, I take the bottle and walk over to a table, somewhat shocked that the bartender still has not noticed my antics. Taking a seat, I grimace at the trail of muddy footprints I have left. If I am honest with myself, I am just delaying the inevitable. I need to tell the client of my failure.

As I sit, drinking directly from the bottle, nursing my damaged ego, a strange man approaches my table.

“Look,” I say. “Whatever you are selling, I ain’t buying so it would be best for you if you just pissed off.”

“Miss Borealis I presume?” The man speaks, his voice somewhat grating on my ears, almost like the sound of nails on a chalkboard.

“That depends on who is asking.” I say in response.

*****

“My employer is very interested in retaining your services.” He begins to say, but before he gets too far I am interrupting him.

“And your employer would be?”

“Sorry, I meant to begin with that.” He says rather sheepishly. “I am a representative for Sanguine Industries. Maybe you have heard of us?”

“Of course I have heard of you.” I say. There is probably nobody on Earth that hasn’t heard of Sanguine Industries.

Sanguine Industries had not been around for very long, something like ten years or so. They built their empire on major medical advances including the cures for most infectious diseases. Things like HIV were now, thanks to them, a thing of the past. The most astounding thing though is the fact that their treatment costs were income tested rather than a set price. That meant that however much money you had, you could afford proper medical care. For some that was the difference between life and death.

“And what could Sanguine Industries need that I could possibly assist with? I ask, toying with the bottle in front of me before taking another swig.

“That will be for you and my employer to discuss.” He states, handing me a crisp business card.

Looking down at the card I see the Sanguine Industries logo, a syringe dripping with blood filling up a blood drop, as well as the name Kane Edwards, CEO. Damn, I may be meeting with the CEO. Turning it over, I find an address located in New York. Looking back up, I am shocked to see that the man is gone. Bugger, and I needed to ask him how he expects me to get there, and when. I sigh and take another swig from the bottle. Looks like I need to get a flight out of this hell hole.

I head back to my room at possibly one of the worst motels I have ever stayed in. The man at the desk doesn’t even look up as I enter, sloshing the mud from the dirt street all through the lobby as I go. Putting the key into the door of my room, I pause before entering. Something feels off, and I cannot explain what. As I walk in, I find the room has been tossed. The mattress has been slashed, clothes are strewn everywhere and furniture lies broken across the floor. I scramble to hunt down my phone. It was taped to the bottom of the drawer of the bedside table. Finding the pieces of the bedside table I curse. Scrambling around, I hunt through the debris in an attempt to find it. Yes! I almost shout with joy as I find it, seemingly kicked under the bed. Turning it on and unlocking it, I prepare myself to call my client. I hate telling people that I have failed.