“You do realize you’re not Percy Fawcett exploring the Amazon? It’s 1932 and this is Virginia.” Alex heaved a tired sigh. “And that is a long walk.”
“It’s a much longer walk home,” Stone said. “And if you abandon me now, I promise I won’t give you a lift back.”
“You’ve got a heart of stone, Brock.”
“That joke gets funnier every time you tell it. Let’s go.” Stone pushed his way through the thick tangle of shrubs and tree branches and stepped out into an open field. The tall grass was wet with morning dew, and the air was crisp and cool. Another beautiful Virginia morning.
“Tell me again how a pyramid came to be built in northern Virginia,” Alex said, falling into step with his friend. The two made an odd pair. Stone was tall, tan, and muscular, with brown hair and eyes. Alex was even taller, skinny and pale with flame-red hair and green eyes.
“In 1897 the Confederate Memorial Literary Society requested that Virginia railroad executives erect markers at spots of historical significance.”
“Why?” Alex asked.
“Depends on who you ask. Most say it was to give passengers something to look at. Others say it was part of a conspiracy.”
“What sort of conspiracy?”
“That part is a mystery,” Stone said.
They crossed a set of railroad tracks and proceeded up a gentle slope.
“If they wanted the passengers to admire the pyramid, why did they build it all the way up there?” Alex asked.
“Another mystery, and part of the reason I want to give it a closer look.”
“You think it’s connected to John Kane?” Alex asked.
John Kane was a New York City businessman whose dealings were cloaked beneath a shroud of intrigue. When Stone had returned to America to claim his inheritance and resume civilian life, Kane’s hired thugs had made attempts on Stone’s life. They had continued to dog his steps as he and his friends ventured into a place some sailors called the Devil’s Triangle, a mysterious and deadly patch of ocean between Miami, Puerto Rico, and Bermuda.
It was on that journey that Alex had lost his hand and Stone had made a discovery that set the course of his future. While he did not yet understand everything he had discovered, he knew that special pyramids were scattered around the world, some in the most unlikely places, and that these pyramids were associated with sources of power. This pyramid, though a recent construction, was in the right general area, and was one of the few candidates he had not yet explored.
“I hope this isn’t another dead end,” Alex said. “On the positive side, at least you aren’t forcing me to climb yet another mountain just because the peak looks triangular. What is it with you and climbing, anyway? Did you take up mountaineering after the service?” He often fished for information about what Stone had gotten up to after leaving the service.
“You can go back to your old job any time,” Stone said with a grin.
“And leave you to your own devices? You wouldn’t last a day without me.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” Stone said.
When they reached the pyramid, Stone’s heart sank. He could tell immediately that there was no hidden doorway here. It was simply a monument that had been placed in an odd location. Not wanting to admit defeat, he made a circuit of the base, inspecting each stone.
Alex took off his rucksack and took out a brick-shaped contraption. He affixed a spiral antenna to the top and turned it on. It emitted a high-pitched squeal, which squelched into a low crackle as Alex fiddled with the dials. His ginger eyebrows shot up as he looked at the display.
“What is it?” Stone asked.
“I’m getting a powerful signal. This is a radiation hotspot.” He held up the device, turned it around for Stone to see the angry red lights on the front. Alex was a brilliant inventor, and Stone had used a portion of his inheritance to hire him on. Some of the contraptions he and their friend Moses Gibbs built were truly remarkable.
“Maybe there’s a piece of meteorite in here?” Stone asked, nudging a block with his booted toe.
Alex shook his head. “The signal is far too strong.” He looked at Stone, eyes gleaming. “I think we’re on to something.”
“I don’t understand how that contraption works, so I’ll have to take your word for it,” Stone said, his heart racing in anticipation. Alex was a brilliant engineer, mechanic, and man of science, and Stone had already come to rely on him in the short time he’d been home. If Alex said there was an odd phenomenon here, it was worth exploring.
“I don’t suppose there’s a door in that thing?” Alex inclined his head in the direction of the pyramid.
“No. If there’s a way in, it must be underground. We’ll have to look around.”
Alex rolled his eyes. “More walking. If fun like this keeps coming I might blow my wig.”
They began to search, walking in a circle around the pyramid, working their way outward. After ten minutes, Stone decided to change tactics.
“It doesn’t take two of us to do this,” he said. “You keep going. I’m going to search around.”
Alex smirked. “Don’t let me catch you napping in the shade while I do all the work.”
“Not a chance.”
Stone’s sharp eyes picked out a dense thicket heavy with young pine trees. It stood out bright green among the older, sturdier oaks. Inside it, he found a tiny graveyard. He immediately noticed that the rusted wrought iron fence was laid out in a pentagonal shape. Highly unusual. The gravestones were simple, hand-hewn, the names and dates so washed out that they were almost illegible. There were five of them, one set near each corner of the fence. Standing in the center was a badly eroded obelisk. At its base lay a large stone slab. Engraved on it were a sunburst and a cross. Above these symbols was the name JA Weishaupt along with the dates May 2, 1776-July 4,1776.
Stone frowned, took the sight in. There was more here than met the eye. And then he put it all together.
“Alex! Come here!” he shouted.
Alex hurried over. “What is it?” He glanced down at the large slab. “The kid only lived two months? And died on Independence Day? That’s sad.”
Stone shook his head. “This isn’t a real grave.”
Alex ran a hand through his ginger hair. “How can you be sure?”
“Take a close look at the sunburst. What do you see?”
Alex knelt for a closer look. He reached to touch a smaller image engraved at the center of the image. “The All-Seeing Eye is carved in the middle of the sun. It’s so faint I didn’t see it at first.”
Stone nodded. “And what about the cross?”
“It’s a double-barred cross,” Alex said, a note of surprise in his voice.
“And look at the outline of the fence. It’s pentagonal, but if you were to draw lines between the corners, it becomes…”
“A pentagram,” Alex said thoughtfully. “But what does it all mean?”
“These are all symbols associated with a group founded by Johann Adam Weishaupt on May 2, 1776. It’s a group many believed had among its members some of our Founding Fathers.”
Alex sprang back from the false grave as if it were infectious. “The Illuminati! You think it’s real?”
Stone grimaced. The question brought back memories of his past, things he had faced during his time in the service and in the intervening time before he had returned home the previous year.
“I believe so,” Stone said. “Here. Help me move this slab.”
“I’m not going to be of much help with one hand,” Alex said. “Can’t you move it yourself, mister football hero?”
“Stop trying to dodge the hard work, you laggard. You’re plenty strong, and I don’t want to accidentally break this.”