There was no cave opening. There was no tunnel.
There was just a solid wall of jutting rock.
I had seen this before, but it still made me wince and brace for impact as our vehicle slammed into the hillside.
Tomas Dole eased up on the engine as the RV became caught within a traction beam and then pulled into the rock face. It was just a visual façade.
For a moment, we were engulfed within the darkness of the rock's interior. The darkness did not last long.
Within a matter of minutes, we had emerged onto a flat grassy plains with a beautiful smooth paved road.
Tomas Dole gunned the engine, disengaging from the tractor beam and off we sped across the plains in quick succession.
The moon was high in the sky as it gazed down across the windswept blades of grass, illuminating the deep gray and heather of the bushes and trees in scattered clumps.
