ALEX HUNT and the Chase for Rhapta Read online

  ALEX HUNT and the Chase for Rhapta

  A Relic Chaser Adventure

  Urcelia Teixeira

  Contents

  Disclaimer

  Dedication

  Preface

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Also by Urcelia Teixeira

  Disclaimer

  Copyright © 2017 by Urcelia Teixeira

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Design by Rebeca Covers Produced in South Africa

  Independently Published - [email protected]

  ......... is a work of fiction. Characters, events and dialogue found within are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, either living or deceased, is purely coincidental.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to digital copying, file sharing, audio recording, email and printing without prior consent in writing from the author.

  Copyrighted material

  Dedication

  To all those who are facing fears... Fear is temporary, but regret lasts forever!

  To all those who are reaching for a dream...

  No matter how far out of reach your dream seems, never say never, and never give up!

  Preface

  Based on the true legend of Rhapta

  About 2000 years ago, Rhapta was speculated to be the first real metropolis of Africa. The lost city was substantially known for its abundant produce of tortoiseshell and metal weapons amongst traders.

  Rhapta soon became one of the wealthiest cities in the world and was mentioned in the Greco-Egyptian writer, Claudius Ptolemy's book "Geography."

  The fact that he captured his findings in his writings proves that they knew of the city's existence as far back as 50AD.

  But approximately 1600 years ago, at the peak of its existence, the entire city suspiciously disappeared.

  The city vanished without any trace and took bounds of artifacts and architectural insights.

  For years, archaeologists, scholars, and divers have been baffled by its disappearance.

  The exact location is not known. However, it is believed to have been somewhere off the coast of Tanzania, near Mafia island.

  A recent accidental discovery by a diver in 2016 has the world excited with the prospect that he found Rhapta.

  At present they are in search of artefacts or any proof that the suspected ruins are conclusively ruled to have been The lost city of Rhapta.

  Map of Tanzania, Africa

  Chapter One

  Alex

  "Dad! I can't hear you! The line is very ... Dad? What's going on? Hello? Daddy, are you there?"

  The crackling noise on the other end of the phone stops for a mere moment. Sufficient enough for me to make out a single gunshot and a thump.

  "Daddy? Dad! Please say something. Dad? Hello?"

  My legs are numb beneath my body. With my phone still in hand, I fall to the floor, unable to breathe.

  "Please no. God please!"

  What is happening here? This call is a mistake. It has to be.

  "Daddy?" I lift the phone to my ear again.

  "Hello? Alex? Is that you?"

  "Hello? Who is this?" pushing the phone closer to my ear.

  "Alex, this is Eric... your father's assistant. What did your father say to you?"

  "What? Nothing. What do you mean? Where is he? I need to speak to him!"

  "They took him, Alex! You need to find help! I've been shot and..."

  "What? Who took him? Eric, who took him? Eric? Are you there? Eric! Dad?"

  The crackling sound on the phone is back for a few seconds. I struggle to listen for his answer, but the phone dies without any further sounds.

  My heart thumps loudly in my ears. The sequence of events that took place is too hard to digest. I slump to the floor, phone still in hand.

  "What do I do? Who took him? What the heck is going on? "

  I scroll through the menu on my phone trying to recall the last incoming number. Crap! The caller is unknown. CRAP! What do I do? Think, Alex. Think!

  Help. I need to seek help.

  My fingers fumble with the phone as I dial and almost drop the phone several times. Just calm down Alex. Keep your crap together.

  "Archeology Faculty, How may I direct your call?"

  "Hello? Professor Keating, please? This an emergency."

  "Who may I ask is calling, please?"

  “Alexandra... Alex, Alex Hunt. Professor Hunt's daughter. Please, I need to speak to Professor Keating now! Please hurry. I have an emergency. "

  Pacing the small room, I swallow in an attempt to wet my parched throat. Come on! What's taking so —

  "Alex? What's wrong?"

  "Professor! I don't have the foggiest idea what to do. I... they, they took him, and Eric was shot and..."

  "Whoa stop for a second. Calm down Alex. Take a breath. You're not making any sense. Who took him and who shot who?"

  "My father. They took my father, and I can't make out if they shot him or, maybe Eric was shot, but I heard a gunshot and... and."

  "Okay slow down Alex. Where are you?"

  "I'm at home. Daddy called but his voice was extremely faint, and then Eric spoke saying they took him and then he got shot. You have to go look for him please!"

  "Bugger. I knew your dad was too deep into something. Okay, make a cup of strong tea and sit tight. Let me make a couple of calls. I'm coming straight over okay? For now, however, calm down. I'll unravel this fiasco as soon as I can."

  "But Professor, I..." The line dies in my ear.

  "Hello? Professor?" but he is no longer on the line.

  Irate, I throw the phone against the door. The back shoots off underneath the couch.

  "Crap in a bucket!"

  My fingers fumble with the battery's cover.

  "Oh, Daddy. Where the heck are you?"

  Chewing on my thumbnail, I pace the room again. Everything's sitting too tight on me. I fiddle with my now constricting medical bracelet.

  What if he's dead? Chasing is what got mum killed; I can't lose him too.

  I look around for my pills and swallow two, closing my eyes as I wait for the bitter sting to disappear and my medication to take effect. The prescription bottle in my hand stares back at me. These pills are my lifeline.

  The rain gently taps the window, so I walk over and trace the soft raindrops down the cold glass.

  How could this happen again? When mum died, my whole world fell apart. How long since I felt the rain on my face. With dad gone I will have no choice but to go outside again. I can't. I just can't.

  I pace the room again, and I fight to control my breathing with the exercises Dr. Jones gave me. My chest is tight, and my body suggests to be doing its own thing.

  I reach for my phone and check if the yellow screen comes on. The light is on and five bright blue lines appear in the corner of the screen. Full signal, then why isn't Dad calling back?

  Dad's desk! I hurry over to the large, messy office in the corner. I throw the stacks of paper on the floor as I look for some clue as to where he might be
.

  "Come on Dad. You always leave me a note."

  "Okay, calm down Alex. He's fine. He is purely on another one of his quests. How long has he been away? Three days? Four maybe?"

  My fingers tremble as I rummage through the loose papers on his desk but it returns no note and nothing else of significance. Nothing but some term papers from his students, a couple of unopened letters and a map.

  So I pace the room back and forth between the door and the desk while I talk myself into sanity.

  I'm sure he said something before he left.

  Think Alex, think!

  He made that flippant comment about him finding the truth that will set us both free from the past.

  "What truth, Dad? Where the heck are you?"

  The only truth he seeks since mum left is why she died. Oh, what trouble is he into now?

  The loud knock on the door jerks me back to reality, and I almost trip on the loose rug as I hurry over to the door. Professor Keating stands dripping from head to toe on the steps.

  "Professor Keating, did you find him?" but I instinctively sense the answer to my overzealous question as I help him take off his wet coat. Why else would he be here in person?

  "No, Alex. I'm afraid I haven't. At least not yet. Thus far, all I could find out through a couple of phone calls I made, is that he is apparently in Africa."

  "Africa? What would he be doing halfway across the world! Are you sure?"

  "I'm certain. We found an email in your father's office from the University of Dar es Salaam that requested his help. They think they might have found the Lost city of Rhapta."

  "Tanzania? That is absurd. 'Found Rhapta' what rubbish. Everyone is fully aware Rhapta is merely a myth. A fabled maritime city that disappeared for nearly 1600 years that some wannabe writer concocted to gain fame. This stupid city doesn't exist! Everything is a silly myth. Nothing more. No one has ever found any evidence of..."

  "Apparently this time someone did find something. They claim to have found some pieces of ancient pottery and gold coins and some human fossils dating back 2000 years. The tests came back positive confirming the fossils are most likely from Rhapta."

  Pausing, he continues.

  "Alex. Considering your mother lost her life chasing after the same adventure, I realize this must be rather hard on you, but what if this is all true? What if all of the facts and fables are true and Rhapta lies somewhere hidden or buried under the sea? Do you honestly think your parents would have spent their entire lives chasing after a phantom if they didn't believe any truth may lie within the legendary tale? Your father must have found something that put him in the face of danger. Your father may finally be able to complete what your mother set off to do and died for."

  "So he jumps on the first plane chasing this stupid fairytale also to land up dead? And what about me? Where do I fit into all of this?"

  My sweater chokes me at the neck as I battle to breathe again. Pulling at my collar has zero effect.

  "Alex. Perhaps you need to sit down for a moment."

  If I had a pair of scissors handy, I would cut this damned sweater straight off my body.

  "Alex. Please. Sit down and try to stay calm. You are going to have to be strong now. We only have one way of finding your father."

  Oh... I don't like where this is going, still tugging at my neck, pre-empting his next sentence.

  "You have to go to Tanzania and find him. You going is the only way."

  My body trembles out of control. I'm cold. No hot. My heart is beating fast, and the vomit pushes up in my throat. The room is spinning and my stomach queasy. Why is the room so dark?

  "Alex. Dr. Jones. Can you hear me?"

  My head hurts as I try to open my eyes. The room is spinning. OOUUUU!!

  "Ah, welcome back. Try to relax for a bit. You fainted so you must just lie still. Here, sip some water."

  The heavily sugared water leaves my tongue furry.

  "Better? You had a pretty hard knock on your head when you fell so don't try to stand up quite yet."

  "Alex. I'm truly sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I —”

  "Whoa Professor, please give her a moment to find her bearings first. She'll be okay."

  "Ouch" rubbing the back of my head. My head is still spinning, but the cold water down my throat helps. Recalling the events leading to me fainting, I cautiously sit up.

  "Absolutely not. No way José. Not going to happen. I CAN'T GO!"

  "Okay calm down. Wait.. just calm down. Go where Alex?" Turning a questioning gaze at Professor Keating spotting his sheepish look.

  "Go where Professor? What's she talking about?"

  "Africa. Tanzania to be more precise as a matter of fact."

  "Africa? Have you lost your mind? To do what, if I may ask?"

  "To find her father. He's gone missing, and she's the only one who is intricately aware of all the facts surrounding—”

  "Oh no. No, no, no, no! No way on earth she can gallivant off to Africa! I'm afraid that is pretty nearly not going to be possible at all Professor Keating. Out of the question! Let me explain. She—“

  "Yes, yes, Dr. I understand. She's still traumatized having lost her mother much the same way and now the trauma that her father is missing. I follow the situation okay? "

  "No. As a matter of fact, I'm afraid you're not. Unfortunately, this is a bit more complicated than a simple case of trauma. Alex has Agoraphobia. She can't leave the house. She's a clinical Agoraphobe."

  "Agora what?"

  "Agoraphobia is an anxiety disorder characterized by an intense fear of certain places and situations, in normal circumstances set off by severe trauma. Alex hasn't been out of the house since her mother's death. Apart from our exposure therapy sessions that is. Something like this would require an immense amount of courage and willpower for her to leave the house much less fly across the world in a cramped aeroplane."

  Now that is a clinical description if ever you've heard one. Couldn't have given a better explanation myself Dr. Jones. Professor Keating rushes over squatting next to me, as white as a sheet.

  "Alex, you might not have a choice in this. You would have to go. One of the archaeologists called me a short while ago. The people who captured your father believe he told you where the key is when he called you. If you don't go, they'll kill him."

  "That is absurd! Ugh, that stupid KEY. Don't you understand? The KEY doesn't exist. Never did" Raising my voice more than I intended.

  "I'm afraid you're going to have to send someone or go yourself, Professor! But please! Help him and bring him home."

  "Alex, only you are familiar with your mother's work inside and out. You've done all the research on Rhapta, and you speak the language fluently. That day, the day that your mother... you might have found Rhapta at that very moment and didn't realize how close you were.

  Look, I understand this is going to be terrible for you but finding Rhapta was your mother's dream. The two of you were on the cusp of one of the world's most significant discoveries. We can't let her dream all go to ruin. Don't make her have died in vain. Your mother wouldn't have wanted you to pine away, locked up in this house forever. Archaeology is in your blood, your inherent DNA.

  You're a chaser precisely like your parents."

  I sit silently. Whatever Dr. Jones injected a little while ago makes me float on air.

  "Alex. Please? You have to. Do this for your mother."

  I'm surprisingly calm as I sit wholly relaxed on the bed taking in Professor Keating's persuasion. So quiet that he can thank his lucky stars I'm not punching his lights out for that last 'do this for your mother' bit.

  My heart is heavy as I recall the events. I've buried them so deep inside, willing the images to never return to my memory. My mother would have wanted me to continue her quest, I am sure. We worked for years days on end, he's right. I just don't know if I can go through the whole ordeal all over again. Much less alone without my father.

  "Dr, don't you have some way of ta
king the edge off, help her take control over this or something? If she doesn't do this, they'll kill her father too. We have to put an end to this once and for all. These people are savages. They will never stop until they find the treasure and as long as those hooligans think her father or she has knowledge of the key or any of the so-called treasure they will keep going and might even come after her."

  "Professor Keating, Alex and I have gone through years of therapy and behavioral treatments. She has her meds, but until she's psychologically ready, my hands are tied. Agoraphobia is a mental disease. One that either lingers forever or, if the patient is ready, pushes beyond the symptoms. Solely a matter of being psychologically and emotionally ready. Once that happens she can manage the disease as the symptoms occur. But. If you push a patient too hard at the wrong time, the consequences can easily go the other way. We simply have no way of telling at the onset."

  He pauses and scratches his brow for a second before continuing.

  "We have a small chance here. Something we might be able to try IF she's willing. However, I must stress, this particular therapy method is not proven, so I offer no guarantees. Theoretically, the treatment should work. Maybe."

  "Anything Dr . We should try anything. This is a matter of life and death so we might not have any other options."

  Highly irate with them talking as if I am not in the room, I shout at them.

  "Hello!!! I'm still here. Surely you are aware that I am not deaf."

  The two of them continue the subject without my input and completely ignore me.

  "Well, the only other possible contribution is if you have someone accompany her. Someone strong and trustworthy that will help her through the panic attacks. He or she will have to be someone she could trust and who will be with her every step of the way."