The Adventure of the Forgotten Moai

By P. J. Hatton

About the Book
Sarah Barnes is a young anthropologist working in the cleaning room at the National Museum, taking care of some of its ancient artifacts. It's a bit of a humdrum life, however, it does have its perks. For every once in a while, she is allowed to head out into the field for some real treasure hunting.
After a near death experience on the plains of Africa, at the hands of her long-time nemesis, Sarah becomes entwined in a far larger mystery at home. One of riddles and murders and all things mysterious.
After teaming up with a handsome curator of a rival museum and making a dangerous trip to the Florida Keys, Sarah eventually finds herself on her way to the South Pacific as the clues of the riddle begin to unfold.
Once there, she finds all is not what it seems, and an enemy that has returned to haunt her!
Join Sarah Barnes on her first thrilling adventure, one in which she even receives a new name for all of her efforts.

About the Author
P. J. Hatton is a native of Vancouver, Canada. He is both an engineer and project manager in addition to being an active member of his church and the Knights of Columbus. Yet, he is also very spirited at putting his imagination to paper with several novels already to his credit. He recently returned from a trip to the fabled Easter Island where he received inspiration for this book.
— This is my first foray into a real adventure story set in modern times and at a location I am most excited about. Savannah Barnes is also my first, lead heroine who is about to face a wild thrill ride of exploration and suspense.
I hope you like it!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dorrance Publishing Company
• Release date: May 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9798887297538

Book preview

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead; events; or locales is entirely coincidental.

All Rights Reserved

Copyright © 2023 by P. J. Hatton

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted, downloaded, distributed, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, including photocopying and recording, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without permission in writing from the publisher.

Dorrance Publishing Co

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ISBN: 979-8-88729-253-3

eISBN: 979-8-88729-753-8

To my lovely wife, Daphnee, who like me,

is always looking forward to our next adventure.

…Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless beings…

Ozymandias

Percy Bysshe Shelly

Chapter 1

Savannah Barnes

The wild expanse of the African Savannah glowed brightly in the filtered blue beams of the full moon, a warm soft breeze blessing the night with its calm serenity. The open range of the vast grassland remained tranquil and quiet, most of the roaming animals asleep and the night predators busy prowling other lands.

For here, under the northeastern slopes of Kilimanjaro, the elephants roamed freely, and in controlling the land, kept the prowling hunters permanently at bay. For the carnivores, it was far easier to stalk smaller, more readily available prey, than it was to brave an African bull elephant and his horns.  

But at this time of night, even the massive, wrinkled forms of the powerful, grey pachyderms lay down at rest. Mothers and babies huddling together, the powerful bulls lying in watch nearby, their huge lungs all gently breathing in and out, sampling the sweetness of the cool night air.

However, a little further east of this peaceful, palm tree sheltered, family gathering, dwelt an entirely different place, a forbidden place.

In a sloped valley, prior to the hot sands of the open desert, lay something ominous. Perhaps even slightly unsettling in nature. An uninhabitable, abandoned basin, its dusty, unproductive soil, home to far more sinister surroundings.

Marking the entry to this decidedly unfriendly region of the Kenyan outback, stood an awkward assemblage of sharp craggy rocks. Somberly rising from the floor of the valley, like a series of stone guardians, they served only to protect the long dead occupants of the wasteland.

In the place that was known by all as the elephant graveyard.

Even in the dim moonlight, hundreds of massive bones, bleached white by the harsh sun, could be seen rising out of the gritty dirt. All stretching up to the sky, as if reaching out for the souls of their previous owners.

Some were full skeletons, others just parts of the whole, time and weather slowly eroding them back to dust. It was a ghastly, unwelcome sight, and one the amiable safari guides tended to avoid when driving the open tundra in their jeeps loaded with amateur adventurers. Their many visitors only interested in the beauty of the African outback, not this much darker, plague-ridden side of the natural wonderland.

Considering the time of night, therefore, it was quite surprizing to find a lone, very beat up off-road vehicle, heading rapidly towards this foreboding field of the pachyderm damned.

Even more startling was that the vehicle’s lights remained fully extinguished, its single occupant rapidly navigating the open plain by moonlight alone.

For the fast-moving jeep held only one driver, its open roof letting in both the faint lunar light and the warm savannah breeze gently blowing across the desolate landscape.

The motorist was wearing the head covering of an Australian Light Horseman. One side of its wide, dark beige brim clipped strongly to the left side of the crown, a dark leather chin strap hanging loosely below the adventurer’s darkened visage. A long scarf, of indeterminate make and design, flapped almost casually behind the figure, bent firmly over the wheel, an incredibly determined look on their partially obscured face.

Various moving shadows prevented any further observation as the racing automobile continued across the dry landscape, throwing up heavy dust in its wake. Its only clear destination, the entrance to the sacred burial ground.

Without slowing, the four-by-four entered the sloped valley, barely squeaking through the narrow gate, between the towering sentry rocks. All in complete ignorance of the quiet sanctuary surrounding the sacred place.

In its rather hasty passing, one of the taller boulders shook slightly on its perch, the speeding vehicle lightly grazing the side of the tiny hill. The resulting tremor sent several smaller stones tumbling down its sandy slope, running after one another as if in chase, before rolling to a gentle stop on the valley floor.

After one small glance behind, the unknown motorist continued on their way, instantly forgetting the near calamity. Accelerating even faster, still fixed on their unknown goal.

Deep within the center of this hallowed shrine were the gigantic, skeletal remains of a huge, adult bull elephant, long deceased, but amazingly still intact. The large, curved bones of the massive ribcage extended up towards the moon as if in agony, remembering the day of its fateful demise. Wisps of the moon’s blue, passing through the empty shell, resulted in alternating light and dark shadows, looking like a macabre set of prison bars stretched out across the sand.

Even to a casual observer, however, there was something not quite right in the way these gargantuan bones sat. How the spine met the rest of the skeleton, the odd thickness of the calcium and the rather obscure position of its enormous skull. Almost as if the dying beast had defied all logic when coming to its final rest.

Next to the carcass was a small pond, almost dry at this time of year, and now mostly mud. But the little water that did remain sparkled brightly, reflecting the vivid moonbeams off its glassy surface.

The large skull, its great jaw wide open in a scream of final torment, lent against a lofty stone outcropping, looking strangely out of place within the otherwise, very flat valley.

Almost as if, somehow, it didn’t belong there.

After surviving its rather torturous route through the cemetery’s calcite remains, the speeding jeep ground to a dusty halt near this odd-looking king of the dead. Even before the dust had cleared, after hastily reaching back into the rear seat for a small pack and some tools, the single shadowy figure jumped out.

The driver of the car was slight, and based on the height of the windshield, only stood about five foot six. Briefly blocked by the bulk of the olive-toned desert vehicle, not much more could be gleaned before the resolute adventurer bounded away, moving unhesitatingly towards the enormous rack of bones.

The individual’s head spun back only once, taking a quick look behind and back along the course of their approach, before dipping down and stepping, rather bravely, through the jaws of the massive, fallen elephant.

Moving further into the shadows, the light of a small but powerful Xenon flashlight suddenly appeared within the bleached skull. Illuminating the dead animal with an eerie, haunting light, as if the great bull might suddenly rise from the dead. But then, after the rough sound of stone against stone, the meager touch of brilliance disappeared, along with its owner, leaving the graveyard quiet once again, the night dark.

Minutes, that seemed like hours, passed, before the coarse sound of grinding rock was repeated. Its piercing screech cursing the silence of the foreboding landscape.

This time, however, the commotion lasted slightly longer, as if the person trying to shift the heavy stones had lost their strength. Or perhaps was manipulating them now with only one hand, instead of two.

Whatever the case, soon the vastly foreign light reappeared, brightly shooting out into the darkness. Reflecting off the white shapes of the jaw’s gigantic teeth, the eerie illumination marked the safe return of the unknown explorer.

At about the same time, there was another sound across the plain, as two more desert vehicles entered the pachyderm gravesite at speed, their headlights also extinguished. Evidently several more midnight infiltrators set on waking the dead.

Pulling to a stop on the far side of the smaller jeep, the dark-skinned occupants disembarked. Four, extremely large men, all armed and all of them looking very unhappy.

Before leaving his car, the driver of the second vehicle reached down, flaring on the large headlights of his SUV, illuminating the entire area in bright yellow. The shocking brightness framed both the large skeleton and the relatively small figure now standing before it, looking dusty and dishevelled, a large item held in one gloved hand.

The night prowler, now visible, was finally revealed as a young woman, in her late twenties. She proudly wore her hat, now slightly off kilter on her head, her off-white scarf still wrapped around her neck like a fighter pilot of old. With its sleeves rolled up above the elbows, her kaki field jacket hung open, a well-worn, white blouse with many pockets, exposed beneath.

Rather startling, considering the environment, the woman wore tight, olive-green shorts ending just above mid-thigh. With boots rising slightly over her ankles, her attire left the majority of her well-tanned legs bare to the elements.

Lastly, there was a wide fibre belt, wrapped around her slim waist, containing various pouches and paraphernalia, as well as a holster, holding a large pistol, hanging off her exposed right leg.

Tied up in a bun under her hat, the adventurer’s hair colour remained indistinguishable in the light, but many other aspects of her rather pretty face were clearly discernable.

Two marvellously formed eyebrows, above a pair of exceptionally large, grey-blue eyes, stared out at the four men with incredulity. Her thin, Romanesque nose lay above a wide mouth, pink lips crinkled upward in a smarmy grin. Completely free of any make-up, our heroine still possessed a charming, wholesome beauty, one transcending the ages.

Interestingly, the woman gazed up at the new arrivals with no apparent surprise, almost as if she had expected them. Her expression quickly changing into one of playfulness, as if she were a child caught with her hands in the cookie jar.

Well, well, she said, look who the cat dragged in. Hi, boys. Didn’t expect to see you out this time of night, especially you, big guy.

Her husky voice, strong, yet high and sweet, betrayed a slight New Zealand accent, as she tapped her hat at the four men.

Sarah Barnes, I should have known. the tallest of the group greeted the young woman in return, his gun centered rather threateningly on her chest, The treasure hunter of the savannah. stressing the word treasure, Can never keep your well-manicured paws off someone else’s history, can you?

Well-manicured? These things? lifting her unencumbered hand to show her nails. Revealing only five cracked stubs, laced with dirt.

You’ve got the wrong girl, Abetoire.

The young woman said the man’s odd name with her voice laced in pure hatred, betraying a previous relationship between the two that was anything but cordial.

I was sure I would get away with this one today. After having caught you guys napping back at Kilimanjaro.

Well, there you’re wrong, aren’t you, girl? Today, we win. It’s time for you to leave our savannah and disappear. This time for good.

The man known as Abetoire looked at the other members of his team, then back to Sarah, staring her down.

But first, hand over the relic.

What, this ol’ thing?

Reluctantly, she pulled her other arm out from behind her back, exposing to the four men what she had come so far to find.

It was a beautiful elephant figurine, about a foot tall, made almost entirely of jade. Its long tusks were ivory, like the real thing, a long, overexaggerated trunk curling about the feet of the artifact. But it was the eyes of the statue that really drew one to it. The massive optics of bright red ruby, encircled with gold, glittered richly in the light of the jeep’s headlamps. Or so it appeared.

Hands up, Barnes, and hand it over, slowly.

Well, I guess finders’ keepers doesn’t always work in this part of the world, does it, boys?

And wasting no further time in banter, and to the utter surprize of all concerned, she threw the stunning artifact toward the guardsman standing closest to her jeep. Rather foolishly the man dropped his firearm, stumbling forward in order to ensure the priceless treasure did not fall to the ground.

Taking advantage of her distraction, Sarah moved quickly, running directly forward and pushing him aside. The other men, only now beginning to react, swung their rifles towards her fleeing form. But in doing so, with Sarah on the move, they ended up pointed at Abetoire, or one of their other associates, leaving them unable to fire.

In their momentary hesitation, Sarah got around them, and sliding over the hood of her jeep, dropped into the driver’s seat. Gunning the engine to life, and putting the car in gear, she spun the tires, rapidly accelerating away from her stunned, would-be captors, before any of them could re-aim their weapons.

Leaving them all encased in dust, she smashed through some of the ancient bones, while beating a hasty retreat back towards the valley’s entrance.

Glancing behind her revealed the leader, Abetoire, safely securing the statue unharmed. After ensuring their prize was safe, he began rapidly directing his men in pursuit. With a very unfriendly, and rather permanent, directive.

Kill her!

Now with better sightlines, some of the thugs did not hesitate, sending several volleys her way, the sound of intermittent gunfire shattering the stillness of the African night.

Unbelievably, the first shot was almost on target, passing right through her windshield just to the left of her head. Ducking, and still under fire, she continued across the mass grave, breaking bones and riding over the dead. Violating the ancient tomb’s sanctity while vying for the valley’s only safe exit.

By now the thieves had jumped in their own vehicles, and Abetoire’s two SUVs were now hot on her tail. Some of the men still firing from the windows, in an attempt to get off some reasonably aimed shots.

After a few more close calls, Sarah started swerving and weaving through the calcite obstacles, trying her best to avoid the gunfire from Abetoire’s pursuing trucks. The tactic worked, the turbulent movements of her vehicle sending any future shots well wide. None of the new volleys getting even close to their target.

On approach to the exit, she spied the tall, undisturbed sentinel of stone, still sitting precariously on top of the pile of rocks. Purposely veering her vehicle to the right, Sarah slammed hard into the side of the hill, the jeep groaning in protest, but nonetheless still sneaking by. Rotating in her seat, she watched as the huge boulder toppled, falling as some of the smaller ones had done previously, straight down towards the flat floor of the canyon.

The first chase vehicle swerved to the side, wildly riding up on the left-hand hill, barely making it through. But the second was not so lucky.

With no lights and its view blocked by the first SUV, the truck was instantly crushed by the massive chunk of rock.

Impacting heavily into the side of the vehicle, the rock proceeded to roll right over it, tonnes of granite smashing down on the automobile’s fragile roof, killing the two men inside instantly.

The boulder teetered in place for a moment, looking like it might continue over, falling on the far side of the demolished car. But then it settled back, coming to a stop completely vertical once more. Remaining there, like an egg in a cup, equipped with a brand-new perch. Except this time supported by the crumpled metal of the now motionless SUV.

A monument to the final resting place of Abetoire’s men.

That’s one! Sarah shouted gleefully as she sped away, the other jeep still in rapid pursuit.

The two remaining off-road vehicles headed out into the desert, huge plumes of sand and debris flying far behind them. By now, with all secrecy out the window, both had activated their lights, bringing the night-time plain alive with light, sound and movement.

Sarah realized one of her headlights was no longer working due to her collision with the mountainside. Regardless, her jeep continued its rather jerky trek over the rough terrain, bouncing and jumping, its one lone eye sending an awkward stream of yellow white light into the dark void of the wilderness.

On its own, the strong blue moonlight drifting down from above would have been enough for her to see, and so the loss of the one headlight was not a concern. But the ability to see was the least of her worries in her ongoing, and what looked to be, increasingly futile attempt to escape her pursuers.

A heavy feeling began to mount in the pit of her stomach, telling Sarah she really had absolutely nowhere to go.

Just then, another bullet impacted the truck’s rear quarter panel, requiring her to swerve sharply. Rapidly resuming whatever counter measures she could, Sarah attempted to avoid the deadly projectiles coming at her from behind. But unfortunately, despite her constant maneuvering, the shots from Abetoire and his men were getting more and more accurate.

Looking back in panic, she could see the other vehicle had already come up tight to hers, its larger size, and higher horsepower, gradually closing the distance. It was now on the verge of overtaking her.

Looking anxiously forward again, Sarah noticed the floor of the valley begin to look darker and oddly different in the glare of her single headlight. Realizing far too late that she had been, very stupidly, driving in the wrong direction.

Toward, rather than away from, the river gorge.

Frantically spinning the wheel, she slammed on the brakes, attempting to stop, but with her already being too close, it was no use.

Having thoughtlessly overcommitted herself and knowing that she was about to go over, Sarah jumped from the speeding car. Impacting the ground heavily on one shoulder, then rolling several times before sliding across the firm, rocky soil, she watched as her unrestrained jeep plunged over the side.

Looking on dreamily as the car’s single light flashed weirdly against the walls of the canyon, Sarah heard it impact the water, just as her own forward motion carried her over the cliff and into the abyss.

In desperation, while grabbing for anything she could find, a stray root miraculously entered her palm, arresting her fall. As her stressed body slammed roughly against the rock wall, winding her, she could feel several tendons in her arm tear violently, the resulting pain agonizing. Thankfully, the fragile wooden stem held fast, leaving her dangling above the gorge.

Taking a deep breath, Sarah heard the other vehicle grind to a halt above her, several bits of sandy gravel raining down on her exposed face. Regardless, she began reaching madly with her other hand, back up to the jagged ledge of the crevasse.

Ultimately, having just latched on, she heard Abetoire’s voice call down to her from above, his dark face backlit by the SUV’s powerful headlights, the heavy creases under his eyes enhanced in the shimmering moonlight.

So, it looks like you’ve got yourself in a bit of a bind there, young Sarah of the savannah. Hah!

Bringing out the valuable statue from under his jacket, he held it toward her tauntingly, its ruby eyes sparkling under the moonbeams.

Looks like you’re the loser today, my girl. You should know that the savannah always wins, Barnes.

Laughing at the sound of his own voice, he continued to gloat.

But you did well today, girl. You know, you almost had us. He smiled, marvelling at the priceless artifact. It’s too bad you and I couldn’t get along. It might have been very enjoyable, if the two of us had a chance to form…how do you say it, a more…, intimate relationship.

In your dreams, asshole!

Enchanting, to the last.

Then Abetoire smiled with a big greasy grin, his bright white teeth flashing.

Tell you what, darling. As a lasting remembrance to your unrelenting courage and feminine tenacity. And because this lovely land is destined to be your final resting place, from this point on, I’ll always refer to you as Savannah Barnes! he chuckled wickedly again, I like that. It suits you; it really does.

Hey, boys! he yelled, turning his head towards his remaining henchman, while Sarah struggled, We just beat out Savannah Barnes! then looking back down to Sarah, Too bad you won’t be around anymore to use such an appropriate moniker.

Screw you, Abetoire, I’m not finished yet. Sarah said, gritting her teeth.

Ah, my dear, but that’s where you’re wrong. I’m afraid, our relationship is finally at an end.

And very nastily, without hesitation, he ground his huge boot into Sarah’s outstretched hand, still clutching very precariously to the lip of the ravine.

Sod, you! she spouted, attempting to spit at him, before screaming loudly.

Abetoire continued to grind his boot into her flesh, eagerly pressing down his entire mass upon her fingers.

Eventually, Sarah could not stand it anymore, finally having to pull away, blood dripping from her mangled hand. But with the loss of the additional hold, she dropped, all her weight now hanging precariously from the knurled root, her ravaged body dangling dangerously out over the raging river.

Looking up for the last time, she watched as Abetoire lifted his gun. But instead of pointing at her, he aimed at the branch root.

You wouldn’t dare! was all she said.

Defiant to the last, staring him right in the eyes.

Just watch me, he said calmly. Rest in peace, Savannah Barnes.

With the loud report of his pistol echoing off the canyon, Sarah’s last hold was broken, and she fell, plummeting into the unwelcome darkness.

Strangely, she did not scream during the descent. Even though the plunge was drastic in the extreme, she had really no time to consider it before hitting the frigid waters of the surging river.

Smashed solidly against the raging fluid, Sarah felt as if her body had hit a brick wall at high speed, the hard impact almost splitting open areas of her exposed skin. Then the water gave way and she went in deep. Bouncing roughly off the bottom, sensing her insides tumble, she was off, rolling along with the current, dragged unceremoniously downstream like just another piece of random flotsam.

Trying in vain to find air to replace what had been forced from her lungs in the fall, Sarah struggled, sucking in the fresh water. The cold fluid slowly filled her lungs, gradually drowning her. Under the frigid surface of the torrential river, she rapidly began to freeze, her body shutting down.

Attempting to surface, she thrashed in vain, the heavy currents relentlessly spinning her around until she no longer knew which way was up, or whether she was going to survive at all.

With all the shock and turbulence, the continuous trauma to her body became nearly unbearable, her energy beginning to slowly drain away. Eventually, she felt her body slacken. And now uncontrolled, Sarah realized that perhaps this was it, that her exciting days as an archaeological adventurer were somehow finally at an end.

Shutting her eyes, she thought back to all the fun she had experienced on her various treasure hunting voyages, just as the last ounce of clean breath finally left her air starved lungs.

But then, just as her mind began to shut down, and her bodily functions cease, quite unexpectedly she found herself being thrown out of the mouth of the raging river.

Sarah was rapidly ejected into a deep, relatively still receiving lake, the abrupt change in momentum, miraculously enabling her to orient herself and rise swiftly to the surface, fire burning in her lungs.

She broke through into the warm night air, coughing and spluttering.