The Swampwood Phenomenon

By Colin B Reed

Two apparently unrelated events in The Congo and The Bermuda Triangle converge on the sleepy U.S. town of Swampwood, but more importantly upon the shoulders of former 'big city cop', but now small town Sheriff Ben Morgan. A series of brutal, baffling and unrelated deaths occur in the town, Morgan subsequently calls upon the services of a former contact in the F.B.I. because he lacked the resources to fully investigate these highly unusual incidents. However, when two sinister agents from The National Security Agency arrive to 'help', It soon becomes apparent that the machinations of 'Big Government' are at play here, and Morgan's investigation seems to be thwarted at every gripping turn. Throw into this potent mix, Extra Terrestrial activity, Government backed conspiracies and subterfuge at every step of the way. A 'must' for Sci-Fi and Horror enthusiasts as well as 'Thrill Seekers', it's little wonder that Colin Reeds novel is attracting great attention.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Colin B Reed
• Release date: May 31, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310329456

Colin B Reed

My name is Colin Reed. I’m 59 years old and live in the North East of England in a small coastal town called Whitley Bay. This is my first novel and I have hugely enjoyed writing it, so much so I think I’ll write another one. I have recently retired from the Ambulance Service so I’ve got a bit of time on my hands. Hope you enjoy the book, happy reading.

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Published by:

The Barely Dry Book

Company.

‘The Swampwood Phenomenon’

First published in Great Britain 2016 by The Barely Dry Book Company.

(www.thebarelydrybookco.com)

Copyright © 2016 Colin Reed.

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor to be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

REPUBLIC OF THE CONGO 2010

The air was becoming oppressive again, humid and uncomfortable, the sky ominously dark to the east. Professor John Laing slowly surveyed his surroundings; he was sweating profusely now, grimy and tired from the dig. It wasn’t going well at all and soon it would rain again halting progress for another day or two. His motley crew of students and locals dutifully picked gingerly away at the ruin, misery etched on each and every face.

‘Hey Gringo, I told you, we’re digging in the wrong place.’

Pepe, damn him, complaining again, never should have hired him thought Laing. Unfortunately without him there would be no local labour, he was their boss and boy did he make sure everybody knew it.

‘What’s wrong now?’ asked Laing, exasperated. Distant thunder rumbled menacingly as the first lightning bolt streaked across the sky.

‘If we were in the right place I wouldn’t have found this would I?’ Pepe stood there, hands on hips, his infuriating self-satisfied grin firmly in place. Laing hated him.

‘Found what Pepe?’ the Professor asked.

‘This.’ The foreman held out his grubby hand which appeared to contain some kind of plastic envelope. ‘And I’m three feet down now so unless they had plastic way back when then we’re digging in the wrong place.’

Laing wiped his forehead with a grimy hand cursing the day he had hired the man. ‘Let me see that’ he said snatching the item from Pepe’s hand. It was, incredibly, a plastic envelope, the kind you sometimes get from travel agents containing important documents. Inside there was a folded piece of paper, a deafening crack of thunder seemed to add dramatic effect as Laing retrieved and unfolded it. He blinked sweat out of his eyes and stared in amazement. It was a map.

The first few light drops of rain began to fall so the Professor refolded the map and put it back in the envelope realising that he would have to be careful here. Pepe waited expectantly, he wasn’t the cleverest man in the world but he had a streetwise head, never missed a trick.

‘Ok Pepe’ Laing said, ‘I hate to admit it but it looks like you might be right, obviously someone has been here recently.’ Another crack of thunder burst from the sky, both men winced at its ferocity. ‘Anyway we’re in for a downpour so it looks like we’ll have to call it a day, go tell everyone to grab their tools and head for the tents.’

The crew, still digging, looked expectantly at Laing clearly ready for a break. Pepe’s, smug grin still firmly in place turned and headed off to relay the professor’s instructions but not before muttering ‘told you so’ under his breath. It was meant to infuriate and it did.

The rain began to fall with a vengeance as Laing entered his tent, the largest on site. It contained his bunk, a table and chair and a small chest in which he stored his clothes. He was already unfolding the map as he sat down at his desk to study it. He realised with surprise that it was hand drawn and featured the very region he was in, the detail wasn’t brilliant but it was good enough to make Laing suspect that something wasn’t quite right. He traced the line of the river with his index finger, past the small village that supplied his labour, past the dig site and on to a long stretch which was featureless other than deep mostly impenetrable jungle. It was a river he knew well having traversed it countless times ferrying supplies and equipment to the site. What was different was the presence of a small tributary which flowed off from the east bank. Laing wracked his brains but couldn’t for the life of him recollect ever having come across it. The map had to be wrong … didn’t it? Even more intriguing was a shaded area at the end of the tributary in the corner of the paper. Now what the hell’s that supposed to represent he wondered.

The sound of the rain thundering off his tent made it almost impossible to concentrate, it was deafening. He poured himself a shot of Jack enjoying the harsh mellow taste. After a while he gave up trying to work it out and decided to lie down on his bunk and review his progress so far.

It had all began two years ago during a tenure as an Adjunct Professor at UCLA. He was utterly bored with his existence and longed to be out in the field making discoveries and making a difference instead of just talking about other people’s exploits. It was during this time whilst having lunch with some colleagues that the conversation took a very interesting turn. It had started off innocuously enough as one of the research associates mentioned he had once been on a dig near the African Congo river. The man had droned on about the importance of the river to the economy, that it was the second largest river in Africa, that it was the deepest river in the world … blah blah blah. Laing wasn’t listening or interested really but then the man said something that instantly got his attention, he said that there was evidence to support the possibility of there being an ancient city in the Congo which had never been found, it was in fact a lost city.

The drinks were flowing and everyone was feeling mellow and indulgent, the group laughed at this having heard it all before and dismissed it out of hand. For Laing it was utterly fascinating even if it was just rumour and hearsay, but what if it wasn’t. Wouldn’t it be an adventure just looking for it and a hundred times better than standing in front of a class of bored students just talking about such things? In the following months he did his research and the more he looked into it the more he realised that there might just be something in it.

And so his quest began.

The Professor was fortunate in that he came from a wealthy family and the cost of an expedition with sponsorship and his father’s support was achievable. He managed to persuade some of his father’s rich friends that he genuinely was on to something and being business men they had considered it carefully and gambled. He handpicked some of his brightest students, financed equipment and supplies, made the travel arrangements and here he was.

Unfortunately things hadn’t turned out the way he had expected. The work was back breaking, the weather intolerable not to mention the damn mosquitoes and spiders the size of dinner plates. He was permanently filthy and suffering from frequent bouts of diarrhoea, and for what? So far all they had found was one lousy building, albeit an ancient one but it seemed to consist of only one room and contained no artefacts whatsoever. He had overheard one of the students say that they had found the world’s oldest toilet and he himself was beginning to believe it.

Weary and depressed he fell into a restless sleep.

The rain was still falling but lighter now as Laing left his tent. It was early afternoon so there was still enough daylight left for him to carry out his planned mission. First though he would need to get help and that would come in the form of his brightest student, Adam Latimer. Adam was Scottish born and bred but had decided to pursue his education in the United States, he was a good guy, what people might describe as genuine. Laing poked his head through the flap in Adam’s tent ‘Need a word’ he said. Adam was laying on his bunk his six foot frame only just fitting it. Blond and muscular he was one of those men who looked better with a couple of day’s growth on his face.

‘What’s up boss?’ he asked stretching sleepily on his bunk.

Laing beckoned with his finger ‘Come with me I’ve got something to show you’ he said.

Adam stretched himself as he stood up and followed the Professor to his tent getting slightly wet in the process. Once inside Laing indicated the map on the table. ‘Pepe found this in the ground, probably about three feet down’ he stated.

Adam studied it carefully, a puzzled expression on his face. ‘He’s winding you up John, has to be. I mean how could this possibly be buried in a ruin that has to be at least a thousand years old?’

‘Because my young friend someone has been here recently and put it there’ Laing answered. ‘Don’t ask me why because I don’t know but the reason isn’t really important. Look at it, what do you see?’

Adam studied the piece of paper then said ‘well its hand drawn for a start and if I’m not mistaken it’s a map of this region. What does the shaded area in the corner represent?’

Laing was staring at the map almost reverently ‘That’s what we’re going to find out’ he answered cryptically.

Ten minutes later the pair set off in the canoe and started paddling up river. Adam had explained to everyone that they were going for supplies and would be back later that evening possibly with some much needed alcohol in tow. This had the effect of raising morale among the crew so nobody had questioned the trip. Both men knew that their little mission needed to be secretive because Pepe would catch on quick and Laing didn’t want the foreman to know about it. They needed to find the mysterious tributary if it actually existed at all, the sooner the better.

As they rowed Adam said ‘This is all very intriguing John but I have to say that I don’t think we’ll find anything. I use the river all the time and I’ve never seen an offshoot anywhere.’

‘That’s the point Adam’ Laing replied, ‘it must be hidden, got to be, I don’t know how but at least we know roughly where it is thanks to the map.’

The current was strong because of the rain so both men settled into silence as they strained against the flow. After a while they arrived roughly at the spot where they thought the tributary might be but saw nothing. ‘We’ll slowly explore the east bank, maybe it’s just hidden by vegetation or something’ said Laing. Adam thought that the Professor’s voice and body language displayed defeat but said nothing.

Incredibly it didn’t take them very long to find what they were looking for and when they did it was a revelation. The tributary was there but so cleverly disguised it was almost impossible to spot. They followed the river bank to a gap where the water flowed off but from any distance the gap was hidden because set back just a few feet was a false bank, from the middle of the river it just looked like one continuous river bank.

‘This is nuts John’ Adam said, ‘I mean it almost looks artificially constructed … why?

‘Simple’ Laing answered, ‘It’s hiding whatever the shaded area on the map represents. We’re on the brink of something here my friend, I’m starting to think that maybe I’m about to find what I’ve been looking for these past two years.’

As they paddled through the narrow channel it gradually opened up into a fairly wide stretch of water, the sight that greeted them was awe inspiring. The trees were so close together on both banks that it would be impossible to penetrate them. The two men stared in wonder then Laing whispered ‘this isn’t natural, it’s man-made, has to be but why? Why would anyone bother to do this?’

Adam was quietly thinking, they had stopped paddling and come to a stop. ‘To keep people out maybe’ he suggested.

‘Or in’ Laing quietly countered. ‘Look, that could be some sort of mini harbour,’ he pointed at what appeared to be the end of the river. Incredibly there was a building, a very old building overlooking the water. ‘I think we may have just found the lost city’ he said, eyes moist as they paddled for the shore.

Standing on the river bank the two men stared in wonder at the sight before them. Behind the ‘gatehouse’ a paved road led off in a straight line overgrown with weeds and vegetation, old ruined buildings framed it on either side. Both men realised that they had just made the most incredible discovery of their lives, knew that their lives had just changed forever.

They walked side by side in complete silence, only the sounds of the jungle breaking the eerie atmosphere. There were trees everywhere but somehow they looked arranged, the result was that the whole area was covered in a canopy of foliage, it would be impossible to