his adopted city. They returned quite late, and Allison slept in the next morning. Cody had found himself
a bit tired as well.
After brunch, the couple wasted no time making their way to the base of the festung , the fortress of Hohen-salzburg. There was a small tram that carried visitors to the top, but after one
too many pancakes, Allison insisted they walk. Halfway up, she regretted it, but there was no going back. Through the trees, as they made their way up the incredible incline, they could see the
sides of the fortress. The sheer wall of the structure met almost precisely with the edge of the cliff; taken together, they formed a several-hundred-foot drop.
It was times like this when Allison felt her humanity most. Though she worked out regularly, she had to rest a couple of times on the walk up, and Will stood patiently by, understanding but not
sharing her discomfort. As they finally approached the massive gates, they got their first real idea of the size of the place. Inside the fortress, yet still walking up an incline, they found
alleys and paths that were almost streets, an open courtyard and a warren of hallways and rooms which must have housed the many soldiers stationed there over the centuries. Medieval art and arms
were on display in several rooms, but Will and Allison found they had a common interest in the structure itself.
Battlements and watchtowers loomed above the city, offering clear views of the Alps. Cannon bastions peppered the walls, and the wind, even on a warm summer day, whickered through them with
cold, grasping breath. The foundation of the fortress was begun in 1077, and the different areas of the castle completed over five centuries. It was this feat, this achievement, existing in the
structure itself, that impressed them. Allison’s creepy feelings about the fortress were gone, replaced with an emotion somewhat akin to awe. Even Will, who had been around much longer than
she, was astonished by the immensity, the strength of the place.
“How much of this are we not getting to see?” Allison said, pulling on an iron grate which blocked their progress down a particular hall.
Will looked down at his feet, wondering whether there were rooms beneath them. Certainly the locked iron door kept them from exploring certain sections, maybe huge areas of the castle. It could
be unsafe beyond that gate he thought. Then again, the people who arranged these things weren’t used to shadow tourists.
“Let’s find out,” he said, and reached for the lock.
Salzburg, Austria, European Union.
Tuesday, June 6, 2000, 2:07 P.M. :
Matt and Tammy Monahan had left their baby son home for the first time. Even though he was with Tammy’s mom, they were still worried. Nevertheless, they were determined
to enjoy themselves. Along for the ride were Tammy’s brother, George Esper, and Jack Rice, a family friend. The group split up soon after entering the fortress, Matt and Tammy wandering off
to see the art on display and Jack and George finding their way up to a windswept watchtower.
“Watchtower,” George said. “Like Dylan.”
He started to hum the song and strum air guitar, but George wasn’t your usual air guitarist. He actually played.
“The Hendrix version is better,” Jack said with certainty. “Dylan sucks.”
“Bullshit” was George’s only reply. He’d grown used to such statements from Jack, but he’d never been able to figure out if the guy was serious, or just busting his
balls.
The two of them glanced furtively around and saw that they were alone, save for a decidedly non-American couple several feet away. George pulled out a joint and lit it, taking a long puff before
passing it to Jack.
“It would really suck if we got bagged up here,” Jack said. “I mean, what’s the local law?”
“Don’t know,” George said. “Just be cool. Don’t attract attention.”
They didn’t.
“Hey, you know what I almost forgot?” Jack said. “Norm’s got this rock