by Aiden James
“What are you going to do with us?”
Sulyn sounded subdued, broken by the man who had badly disrespected her at the convention. Her upper lip bled. The same telltale swelling and bruises her grandfather bore now covered both cheeks—a sure sign Kaslow marked his conquered turf. Like Alistair and me, her hands were tied tightly behind her. Smaller strands from shredded deck rope had been used to ensure the knots were damned near impossible to break, unless one’s arms were stuffed with steroid-laced muscles.
We were seated on a long couch facing the bar, and two men in dark business suits whom I didn’t recognize kept watchful eyes upon us. Both were of Middle Eastern descent, perhaps Syrian? Kaslow stood by the salon’s main entrance, keeping a watchful eye on the rest of Sulyn’s staff manning the yacht’s bridge. He and his boss were dressed casually in jeans and polo shirts, which did nothing to soften their abrasive personalities. The most expensive Serge Lutens cologne will never cover up the stench of a rotting soul.
Four fiends against the three of us—odds that on occasion have worked out to my favor. Of course, that entailed having one’s limbs free to be used when needed. But there was also someone else in our presence: Lao Wee Kiat James.
He sat at the opposite end of the bar from Morrow, nursing what looked like a stronger whiskey concoction. He appeared pensive and worried, dressed in what I’d decided was the preferred slovenly business attire he’d worn throughout the week. He shied away from Sulyn’s angry glances. No one needed to tell me Mr. Lao was up to his plump dimpled cheeks in this shit. Not only had he betrayed the knowledge of the map and stylus that claimed more than two-dozen innocent lives in a single day, but he assuredly also brought Morrow and his three henchmen to the pier.
“I have yet to decide your fate, little lady,” said Morrow, chuckling after taking a long drink from his Scotch. “For now, your distress amuses me, and so it suits me to keep you alive for entertainment. Fear not…I will grow tired of you and your Hong Kong stench—certainly by dawn. You can join the rest of your friends in the sea for all I care.”
“Should I assume the same fate awaits the rest of us?”
Alistair sounded just like the ‘Big Tam’ Connery, and my son’s coolness and brazen defiance in his tone greatly impressed me. Morrow said nothing. Instead, Kaslow spoke. Actually, I was surprised Viktor didn’t come over and bitch slap my boy for his smart mouth.
“Oh, I wouldn’t assume anything at this point, Mr. Barrow,” said Kaslow, his tone an unsettling combination of mirth and acid. “You should well understand there are things far worse than mere death.”
I felt the chill resonating through Alistair. I doubt my son had told Sulyn anything about the personal horror he endured in Kaslow’s ‘torture trailer’ hidden away in Iran’s Alborz Mountains last year. He’s never discussed any of it with me either.
“Hasn’t your rebirth as an even more wretched monster taught you to fear The Almighty?” I taunted Kaslow, wanting to pull his attention from my son. I silently prayed for a miracle—even just a morsel to give us some leverage. “The emptiness in your soul will grow deeper and deeper until there is no escape from Sheohl.”
We needed something, and needed it quickly. Surely Roderick was aware of our predicament, and I wondered what he intended to do about it. He could do little on his own, since we were dealing with an armed immortal that could kill us—and Roderick—with his bare hands if so desired. It would take an entire team of trained assassins to take out Morrow’s latest henchmen and stun Kaslow long enough for us to possibly escape.
“William…or rather, Judas!” he sneered. “I fear nothing and care even less for your myths and superstitions!”
“Then what do you believe in?” asked Alistair. “If it isn’t some spiritual higher power, then you are to be pitied as the most miserable human being ever to walk this earth.”
My heart nearly stopped beating. I thought Alistair would be dead in an instant. Kaslow glared at him with his gun’s laser sight trained upon my son’s forehead. I would’ve wagered my entire net worth I was about to lose him forever. The wait for what came next turned excruciating. But Alistair remained calm, and his breathing was the opposite of Sulyn’s short shallow breaths. He was at peace.
I think if my boy had reacted any other way he would’ve died right then, likely leaving Sulyn next in line for a bullet hole to the head. Certainly, Morrow already had everything he needed. We were all dispensable.
Alistair’s response drew a nervous twitch along the corners of Kaslow’s mouth. He lowered his gun.
“Pitied?” he said, snickering. “Perhaps we should show you what no human has seen in eight hundred years, eh? Killing you inside the cave that holds such treasures might bring a more satisfying demise for you three.”
“They could be the first to perish from my new toy!” Morrow glared at me especially. “I am told that you, Mr. Iscariot, will be transported into some other place and time if your present body is compromised beyond repair. How about we let you experience a slight demonstration of the mantle’s strength to send you on your way? The fate of your son and his new girlfriend will forever remain a maddening mystery for you!”
Now he did laugh. Uproariously.
“I guess that leaves just you, James!”
Mr. Lao suddenly lifted his eyes from the drink he continued to nurse. Kaslow pointed his pistol toward Lao’s mid section.
“What?! This is not what you promised! I have done everything you asked, and have been a faithful servant to you!” he pleaded. When he received no response from his ‘boss’, other than rolled eyes and a bored expression, Kaslow took a step toward where Lao sat. Lao immediately stood up, knocking over his stool while raising his hands defensively. He looked around madly for help, or more likely someplace to flee. There was nowhere to go. “What about all of the research you had me do that could’ve cost me my job, or had me killed by Cheung Yung-ching? Kill them for getting in your way!”
His shaking hand moved from Sulyn to Alistair, and finally to me.
“You are a fucking snake!” she hissed at him. Our diminutive debutante carried admirable bite after all. “Because of your greed, James, my cousins are dead! They were just children! Their entire lives were snuffed out because you were willing to share our family’s secrets with these ‘sha shous’!”
“Step over to the door, or you’ll die now,” Kaslow told Lao, his voice low and menacing.
With his knees knocking together, Lao followed Kaslow’s command while pleading fervently for mercy. Kaslow ignored the cries, pleading, whining, and the small cloud of urine that had darkened the front of Lao’s gray pants. Instead, he brought the gun closer and motioned for his next victim to move through the open doorway.
The moon seemed brighter, illuminating the deck and surrounding water as the ship moved up the channel toward the cape. Meanwhile, Lao squeezed his substantial girth through the narrow exit, and I was struck by the absurd irony of how we all cling to the slimmest hope—even if there really isn’t any—when our lives are at stake. As soon as he stepped out of the salon, he pleaded even harder. Kaslow put a bullet through his heart and his head and turned back to face us before Lao collapsed dead on the deck. The Russian wore a bored look, as if he had just deposited the trash outside his home.
The yacht leaving Tolo Harbour eliminated the need to be tidy. There’d be a much bloodier mess in the cave if we didn’t experience a miracle before Morrow and Kaslow collected their prize.
“We’ll soon reach our destination,” Morrow advised, pouring himself another drink. “Would any of you care to join me?”
He raised his glass in salute after the tongue in cheek offer. Those who could’ve joined him declined, and we three prisoners looked on in silence. Nothing more to talk about, the ensuing silence became awkward. I sensed our ‘host’ wanted very badly to let us in on some additional secret, but waited for the right moment.
Finally, we reached our destination, as Devil’s Fist rose eerily out
of the water ahead of us. The infamous marker for Wong Chuk Kok Tsui looked especially menacing beneath the moon’s glow.
“Ishtar and Adad, bring our prisoners and the little girl,” said Morrow, once the captain brought us close to the shore.
One of the henchmen moved over to a small closet near the bar and opened it. A child no older than eight years was inside, gagged and bound. She had been crying, though I was unaware of her presence on the yacht until that moment. He yanked her forcefully to her feet.
“Let her go, you bastard!” demanded Sulyn, restrained by the other thug. “She’s innocent and has nothing to do with this!”
“She might be innocent, but I’m not so sure she has nothing to do with this—especially if her daddy decides to talk,” said Morrow, calmly motioning to the captain standing outside the salon, whose face was filled with fear as he peered through the windows. “She will be our insurance policy, since it’s a long swim back to the city. I won’t need anything other than this vibrant, sweet young child to ensure the boat is waiting for Viktor and me when we return from our little expedition. In the meantime, shut Ms. Cheung up.”
Morrow removed Cheung’s map from his back pocket, where he had carelessly folded and stuffed it. Sulyn offered a stronger stream of obscenities until a gag over her mouth silenced them.
“And how do you propose to find this place?”
Really, my question wasn’t as stupid as one might suppose. After all, we were nearly in the exact same spot we had visited eight hours earlier. What could possibly change if we still had the same map to follow?
Morrow eyed me wickedly. “Ahhh…I’m afraid the map is a better friend to me than to you, Judas.”
He pulled out an object from his front pants pocket. Even before Sulyn uttered a muted shriek, I knew it was the stylus mentioned by her and her grandfather. Made from pure gold, it included a brilliant sapphire upon its top. No telling what the damned thing was worth.
“You’re only slightly surprised to see this, I’m sure.” Said Morrow, gleefully. “But, did it ever occur to any of you that it might possess a few more abilities beyond what a normal stylus can do?”
I believe I was the only one to shake my head, though subtly.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter, since each of you are desperately thinking of a way to escape your dismal fate,” he continued. “Since I rarely get to play with anything that doesn’t follow the usual laws of physics, you’ll have to excuse my fascination with a little secret I’m about to share. Watch this.”
His thugs brought us to a table near the door, and on it lay Cheung’s map. Morrow’s carelessness had damaged the corners of the ancient goatskin. But it hardly mattered. Once he sat the stylus on top of the map, it began to vibrate and twirl on its own. As it did, text that was previously invisible suddenly appeared. Mainly it was numbers in Portuguese and Latin, although elements from languages in this part of the world were also included. I’m ashamed to admit I whispered my hunch the numbers looked like measurements.
“Oh, this is going to be so much fun!” beamed Morrow, pleased by my quiet musing. “Since we’ve already done this once tonight, we have the measurements that tell us specifically where to place our hands on the rock wall hiding the cave entrance. Certainly, Judas, from your extensive travels and knowledge of the ancient world, you are familiar with the relationship between ‘chi’, ‘bu’, and ‘li’. Correct?”
I merely nodded. These units have varied over time, so unless Morrow knew the precise era when the map was created, his calculations could be off.
“1520 was the year the map was created, William,” said Kaslow, drawing a sharp glare from me. The sucker had just read my thoughts, and he grinned at my pained expression. “The numbers should be accurate, as you will see in a few minutes. We should go.”
“Yes, I agree.” Morrow gathered the stylus and map and headed for the exit. “Make sure Judas and the other two stay ahead of us, and the kid stays with you, Viktor.”
He didn’t wait for a reply, and immediately left the salon. To get an idea of where my son’s and Sulyn’s mental states were at, I had been quietly observing them through my peripheral. He hadn’t said a word, but Alistair didn’t hide his amazement about the strange stylus and what it revealed upon the map’s face. Sulyn, on the other hand, seemed shaken by what just happened. She obviously hadn’t grasped that Viktor Kaslow wasn’t human anymore, any more than she realized I also was no longer human in the traditional sense. Even so, she surely knew Kaslow was akin to a demon from hell.
Kaslow seemed to grow more impatient once we stepped out onto the deck, and quickly ushered everyone off the ship. The little girl reached out for her father, who tearfully ignored her, as if he fully understood how quickly either one of them could end up dead. I sent a silent prayer for mercy to him and his child, since neither one would likely return to the pier in Tolo Harbour.
“So…this is it,” marveled Morrow, when we arrived at the wall. Despite the moonlight, much of the rock face was shrouded by shadows from taller formations. “You truly have no idea how this thing works, do you, Judas?”
No, Morrow-asshole… I sure don’t.
I was about to voice an abridged version of my disrespect, but then he pulled out the stylus again. He quietly mouthed an incantation that matched the words Sulyn and I had struggled to decipher last night when we first handled the map. His rendering of the older Cantonese dialect sounded similar to hers, though his pronunciation was marred by his inexperience with the Chinese language.
The sapphire atop the stylus began to glow, and as it did, a luminescent blue haze emanated from the device. It followed Morrow’s fervent push with palms held out in front of him. The haze embraced the wall, and two separate handprints appeared at my chest level, roughly a dozen feet apart from each other.
“Viktor, will you do the honors?”
Morrow pointed to the handprint on the left while he moved up to the one on the right.
“According to my research, finishing the incantation while you and I place our corresponding hands over the marks on the wall will trigger the appearance of the entrance,” he advised. “Here goes.”
Spoken like a true amateur. But after seeing firsthand the creation of an abomination like Kaslow last summer—an event that happened in the holiest place on earth—I unfortunately understood how easy this hodgepodge approach could work. As it turned out, it worked like a charm.
Once Kaslow and Morrow had placed their hands over the smaller ones that had appeared on the rock face, and Morrow completed his horrendous pronunciation of the five-hundred-year-old words, the ground beneath our feet began to shake. As it did, the rock wall moved aside. Not by much, but enough for a person of average build to step through easily. For Kaslow, the thugs, and myself it was a little trickier squeezing our muscular builds through the opening.
Armed with flashlights, Morrow’s latest henchmen led the way. We stood within a fairly large cavern with a ceiling much higher than the one I had seen in my dream. Maybe we had arrived at the wrong place. Yet, I knew beyond all doubt my coin was near, as I could feel the terrible rage it had gathered since the Lord’s blood tarnished it and its brothers. If it were an audible response, surely it would be an ear-piercing scream.
A large round disk sat in the middle of the room, roughly five feet in diameter. An intricately carved dragon graced the top.
“This is where the cave entrance should be,” said Morrow. “Adad…Ishtar. Come lift this out of the way.”
“There’s no need,” said Kaslow, waving them off. He returned his pistol to the holster under his left arm and squatted in front of the large stone disk. With no more effort than lifting a fifty-pound sack of potatoes, he picked up the disk and tossed it out of the way.
That was clue number three for Sulyn, whose eyes grew wide with amazement. For anyone with limited exposure to the supernatural, a magic stylus, blue haze revealed handprints, and superhuman strength would definitely be a reality bender. Bu
t, the real fun had yet to come.
Once the disk was removed, I recognized the stepladder leading down into the darkness below. The flashlights’ beams revealed the bottom of the cavern was less than ten feet, or three meters, as Morrow pointed out. The beams also revealed several human skeletons lying haphazardly near the base of the ladder. The bones appeared to have been seared by fire.
Kaslow led the way, showing more caution than I expected. Perhaps he figured the cavern was filled with booby traps. I was ordered down the hole next and noticed the air was stale, but also carried the scent of charred wood and flesh. No one had visited this place since World War II.
“Sheesh! It looks like a small war happened down here,” observed Alistair, once he and everyone else had joined us. Identical to what I saw in my dream, the cave was just under five feet in height and maybe fifty feet in width. It opened to several smaller rooms, or passageways.
To my right were rows of stacked chests, and many more skeletons surrounded us. Most were dressed as the Chinese men I had watched race against time to load chest after chest inside this cramped place. However, the remains of roughly a dozen Japanese soldiers were here, too.
They all died here, and the cave was covered so no one could escape....
Morrow directed those of us in bonds against one wall, while he and Kaslow searched for the chest containing the mythic mantle. The coin’s blue glow emanated from a chest less than ten feet away. Barely open, I tried to ignore it once I recognized it from my dream the other night. Sadly, Viktor saw it, too.
“Marvelous!”
Morrow eagerly joined Kaslow once the Russian announced he had found my coin. My heart sank and I braced myself for one of them to pull it out and taunt me. Instead, they dug deeper in their search for the vest once belonging to Genghis Khan.
