The Codex (An Armour of God Thriller Book 2)

by Daniel Patterson

"Yeah, just about what I thought. Let's set some pitons and see how far down we can follow it."

  "Now?"

  He looked up at her. "Yes, now. What else are we going to do for three hours?"

  "You've noticed the time, right? The sun will be setting soon."

  "Yes, I've noticed the time. But you forget this time of the year Greenland gets nearly twenty-four hours of sunlight. Besides, I'm not planning on staying the night. Just a couple hours' worth of exploring and we'll come back up."

  "I will wait for you, my friend," Mikkel called from the helicopter. "If you do not come back, then I will know you stayed down in the tunnel. Or that murderer-munching monster got you."

  Zack expected Sydney to argue, but she was oddly silent for a moment. Then she said, "Fine. Let's get it over with."

  "What, you afraid Mikkel's monster will get us?" he asked sarcastically.

  "Very funny. The sooner we start this then, the sooner we'll be done. What kind of pitons do you use? Knifeblades? Angles?"

  Zack pulled out two thick coils of blue nylon rope from the open duffel bag and then took out a belt hung with two-dozen pitons. He held one up to show her. "Bongs."

  "Bongs?" She crinkled her nose at the sight of the metal spike. It brought out her freckles when she did. "That's old school, isn't it?"

  "Well, in case you haven't noticed, I am old school."

  "Yes. I did notice. I was just hoping it didn't compromise your safety precautions."

  "You are welcome to stay up top if you're scared..."

  Mikkel laughed as he watched them. "You two are like an old married couple."

  Sydney rolled her eyes and stepped away. But Zack thought he might have seen her cheeks color—probably just the cold.

  Chapter Ten

  BONGS WERE LARGE ANGLED pitons made from aluminum sheet metal. They got their name from the sound they made when they were hammered into place: a loud, resounding bong, like striking a gong or a hollow pipe. Zack found a good-sized crack in the rock near the hole's edge and hammered in the first one. The sound of it reverberated across the empty plain. He put the second one in place for Sydney and then uncoiled the ropes.

  After putting on their snow gear, boots, gloves, helmets, and checking each other's rigs for loose connections, they clipped the ropes through the hooks at the front of the harnesses at their waists. Zack was impressed at Sydney's skills. She knew what she was doing. Her fingers weren't as nimble as Zack's, but she found her way around the buckles and ropes easily. All she needed was practice. The talent was there.

  Onto their harnesses, they hooked six pitons apiece, extra flashlights and water canteens. Zack had his trusty camera in the side pocket of his pants and a few other odds and ends around his person. Tomorrow they would bring additional equipment for a more thorough descent. Zack took one last look at the sun then set his feet on the edge of the hole, turned on his helmet light, and started walking down into the dark.

  With a heavy sigh, Sydney crossed herself, kissed her gold locket, and followed.

  The water-carved shaft was maybe fifteen feet in diameter. Enough space for them to climb down side-by-side and then some. The sunlight was quickly cut off by the curving walls, and Zack stopped with his feet braced to take his extra flashlight off its hook. He pulled apart the two ends of the Velcro strap around the handle and wrapped it tightly around his left wrist so that the beam could shine over the top of his hand. Thumbing it on, he shone it downward.

  They were now only about ten feet away from where the shaft began to curve. It looked almost level enough for them to walk on, but he wouldn't know until they got there.

  "How are you doing over there?"

  "Fine."

  "You don't look fine. You've done this before, right?"

  "You wait until now to ask me that? Yes, I've done this before. Free climbing and bouldering mostly."

  "Impressive. For a minute there, I was beginning to think you might not have enough experience."

  "Shut up, will you? I'm trying to concentrate over he—" She broke off with a squeak.

  They had reached the first pitch. Her feet had suddenly planted themselves firmly on the side of the shaft, which was now the floor, and it had surprised her. Zack placed his own feet carefully, smiling over at her.

  "Shut up," she repeated, turning her head in embarrassment.

  "Okay, let's set some pitons here at the curve and attach our ropes before we start down any farther."

  They set to work with hammers, finding only the smallest of cracks in the wall to set their safety bongs. "Be careful," he warned her. "The shaft is still slick with water."

  She nodded, hooking in her rope and testing it with a few hard tugs.

  "Hey, you're doing great," he said to her. He found himself reaching over to rest a hand on her shoulder, and she pushed into his gentle encouragement.

  She nodded finally. "Thank you, Zack."

  He didn't understand her. The one moment she was a little miss know-it-all with an answer and an opinion on everything, and the next she was sweet as could be, happy for the help and guidance. Her change from the one to the next was unpredictable, and he had to stay on his toes to keep up with her.

  They were off again. They were able to walk down the shaft now as it sloped and curved first right and then left. But they held onto their safety lines as they went, just the same.

  "So how far down do you think this goes?" she asked him, playing her helmet's light beam around just like he did. There were some mineral veins running through the shaft everywhere in irregular lines. They sparkled and reflected back under their lights.

  "I have no idea. This is just a short little jaunt to see what we can find, remember?"

  She scoffed. "You want to see what kind of scraps are here first?"

  "Exactly. And look out for monster footprints."

  They continued after that in silence, following the natural tube as it began to spiral, becoming a gentle downward corkscrew. Every step took them around a new twist. As they went, they stopped twice more to set safety bongs in place. It was beginning to look like the shaft had no end. For all he knew, it went straight down forever, down to the earth's core. He snickered. It was just so cliche.

  "What?" she asked.

  "Haven't you ever read Journey to the Center of the Earth?"

  "I watched the movie."

  "The book was better."

  "Well, you would think that, being old school and all. How long are these ropes?"

  "Not much longer than this. We should go back."

  "Works for me. Nothing here but rocks. And more rocks."

  "We should take some samples of these veins in the rocks, maybe," He adjusted his grip on the rope and started back up.

  "Why bother? It's probably quartz. Maybe zirconium." She set her feet carefully to turn back.

  "Amazonite, maybe," he offered. "Might be some platinum here. Maybe even silver?"

  "I think you're dreaming, Zack. Look. Look here." She bent down on one knee and pointed to an unusually bright vein, a thin line of reflection across the dark rock of the shaft. "Just because it's shiny doesn't mean that it—"

  She stopped talking as the rock around them groaned and then snapped with a loud crack.

  Zack looked at her. She looked back at him, her eyes wide.

  "No, no, no!" he shouted.

  The crack repeated, louder, and dust and small rock fragments rained down around them.

  "We need to go," he said to himself as much as to her, "we need to go now! Hold onto your line!" he yelled to her, grabbing her by her wrist and starting back up as fast as he could on the slippery rock.

  She nodded and grabbed hold of him tightly. Her reaction didn't surprise him as much as his sudden urge to protect her.

  "We are not going to die here!" he told her and put his mind to believing it.

  Until the whole floor of the shaft gave way beneath their feet...

  Chapter Eleven

  SYDNEY LOST HER GRIP on Zack and
they dangled separately in space.

  All around them was emptiness.

  Zack stretched his legs down as far as he could without feeling anything. He spun on the end of his rope. The sharp snap it had given the harness when the safety catch engaged had jarred his hips and back. But it had saved his life.

  The beam of Zack's helmet light spun in the darkness, revealing nothing until it washed over Sydney. She had a stranglehold on her rope. Her eyes were tightly shut, and she was obviously scared to death.

  "Sydney? Sydney, you all right?"

  She shook her head stiffly.

  "Sydney, it's okay. We're safe. The lines held, and you need to remember that we set four separate bongs in place. We aren't going to fall."

  When he said that word—fall—she hunched up and fisted her hands tighter around the rope.

  "No, no, bad choice of words. Look, the ropes are holding, and we're okay."

  "For how long?" she whispered.

  He didn't answer. He didn't know.

  Instead, he fumbled for the switch on his flashlight, still strapped tightly to his wrist, and finally got it switched on again. He played the beam of it up as he tried to keep his body from spinning around like a yo-yo at the end of the string. Both of their ropes swung tightly against the jagged edges of the false floor that they had broken through.

  If that continued, the rock could saw right through the nylon ropes.

  This was not good.

  He tried pointing the flashlight down again. Nothing. Just more emptiness. He couldn't remember ever seeing so much darkness. There was no way down.

  "Okay, Sydney, we have to brake and squat our way back up."

  She shook her head again frantically, her eyes still closed.

  "We have to, Sydney. I have no idea what's below us. I know what's up there. Up there is safety. Up there is where we want to go. Can you climb?"

  She was silent for long moments.

  "Sydney, reach out to me."

  He held his hand out, the spinning of his rope making his grasping fingers swing slowly past her.

  "Sydney," he tried again as he came back around. "Sydney, reach out to me."

  She opened her eyes. Her breath was quick and shallow through her open mouth. But slowly, very slowly, she unclenched her one hand from the rope, finger by finger, and held it out for him.

  Their fingertips brushed as he rotated past.

  She yelped and caught back hold of her rope. The motion caused her to start swinging like a pendulum bob, back and forth, back and forth, closer to him, farther away, closer...

  "Now Sydney!" he called to her, reaching out again as he came around and she swung to him.

  "I can't!" she screamed and swung away again.

  This was what field experience meant. It wasn't how skilled you were with knots and ropes or how much you knew about nature all around you. It was how well you could handle these types of situations.

  He looked back up at the jagged hole, the flashlight finding the tightly stretched line of her rope sliding roughly against the edge with her motion, the sharp rock sawing into it.

  Trying not to think about what might happen if her line completely severed, he concentrated on her. "Sydney, look at me."

  She did, and her lip trembled as tears traced lines down her cheeks.

  "Sydney," he spoke softly, calmly. "Tell me about your locket."

  "My what?"

  "Your gold locket. Tell me about the locket you wear."

  She stared at him, swinging close, then away, close, then away again.

  "It's... It's a sacred heart...to remind me of the sacrifices Jesus made...and the love He has for us."

  "It's beautiful Sydney. Where did you get it?"

  Sydney's rope continued its sawing motion against the jagged edge above. There wasn't much time.

  "My parents... My parents gave it to me when I went to college..."

  "Sydney I want you to trust me. Do you trust me, Sydney?"

  "I want to..." she sobbed.

  "Good. Now I want you to reach out to me. Can you do that for me, Sydney?"

  "Promise... Promise me you won't let me fall."

  "I promise. I promise not to let you fall."

  She swallowed, then nodded her head and slowly reached out her hand.

  He caught hold of it on his next slow spin, holding it tightly in his and finally his spinning stopped.

  Just as her rope snapped and she fell.

  He tightened his fingers around her hand. Her weight yanked down hard on his arm, but he managed to hold onto her. A sharp pain shot through his left shoulder, and he let out a loud groan, grimacing into the dark around him. He strained to hold her as she screamed.

  He needed to think of a way out of this.

  Quickly.

  Chapter Twelve

  "SYDNEY, I CAN'T...I can't hold you much longer," he called out to her.

  Panic rose in her voice. "You promised you wouldn't let me fall!"

  "I won't! Sydney, I promise I won't. But my fingers are going numb. Something happened to my shoulder. I need you to grab onto my legs. Can you do that?"

  Her answer was less than convincing. "I can try."

  "Good, Sydney. Reach up with your other arm and wrap yourself around my legs. Good, that's good. Just like that. Now I'm going to let go of this arm, and you're going to hold on—"

  She did it while he talked her through it, and soon she was holding him around his legs just above his knees, a death-grip that she had no trouble maintaining.

  He tried to move his fingers now that his hand was free. They barely responded. Judging by the pain that shot through his shoulder every time he moved, it was a safe bet that it was dislocated.

  They were in one of the worst spots he'd ever been in. And considering some of the tight fixes he'd gotten himself into, that was saying a lot.

  "Are we going to die?" she asked him.

  "No, we're not going to die."

  "How do you know?"

  "I don't know, but I'm telling you I'm not going to let us die."

  The feeling didn't return to his fingers. He waited for the pins and needles to come, but they didn't. He tried to move it again, but the pain didn't ease up the way it sometimes did when he'd hurt himself and just needed to circulate the blood.

  Definitely dislocated.

  He was sure of it now.

  "Okay. Here's what we're going to do. I need you to climb and get on my back."

  "Oh, is that all?" she said.

  He felt her shaking. "It'll be easy," he reassured her. "Just use my belt and my pack for handholds. I'm going to help you."

  She managed to grab his hand as he lowered it down to her again, and pulled herself up to his belt. Then higher, up to the harness, and with a few painful digs into his shins she got herself around to his back. From there, she could wrap her legs around his waist and her arms around his chest.

  "Better?" he asked.

  She nodded into his shoulders. "What happens if your rope breaks too?"

  Then we both fall to our deaths. But he couldn't tell her that. "We'll just have to get somewhere safe before that happens, won't we?"

  "I'd like that," she muttered, her face buried in the back of his jacket.

  The logical thing would have been to climb his rope. But his shoulder wouldn't be able to hold his weight, let alone Sydney's too. He had to worry about the edge of the crack cutting through his rope as they kept dangling. Unfortunately, that only left them with one alternative.

  "Sydney, can you get your rope up here? I mean if you take it out of your harness and reach up to my rope with it?"

  As they spun in a lazy circle, she moved behind him, her one hand fumbling for the rope while her other clutched desperately at the front of his jacket. A minute or so later she was reaching around him, the length of blue nylon rope that had fallen with her in her fist.

  "Here," she said.

  "Good. Tie it to the end of my rope."

  "Me?"

&nbs
p; He looked at her over his shoulder. "I'll help you," he said, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible, "My shoulder is dislocated, so I only have one hand. Keep ahold of me and use your other hand. We'll have to work together."

  She nodded, swallowed hard, and after a few failed attempts they managed to tie the ropes together.

  "Okay, hold on tight," he said.

  She panicked and held tighter to him. He estimated that they had fallen about thirty feet until the knotted end of their ropes had caught against the brakes in their harnesses. Tying the end of Sydney's rope to his own would allow them to descend thirty more feet. Surely, from that distance, they could at least see the bottom of this cavern.

  Using a double fisherman's knot to tie the ropes together wasn't easy. It had been even more difficult with two different hands and both their weights weighing down his line. When it was done, he tugged on it as hard as he could with his good arm. Hopefully, the knot would hold their weight. Hopefully.

  But to be sure, he took the bracelet off his wrist and started uncoiling it.

  "What's that?" she asked him.

  "It's a paracord bracelet. It's a line of parachute-grade cord wrapped over and over itself to form a neat little package."

  He tied one end of the paracord to his rope and then wrapped it around the knot he had made several times, tying the lower length around Sydney's rope. It couldn't hurt to have some extra insurance that the two ropes would hold together. It took time with one hand, but he managed.

  "Are you honestly doing what I think you are?" Sydney asked, watching him over his shoulder.

  "Um. You're going to want to hold on tight."

  "Oh God, help us, you are." Sydney tucked her head into his back again and held on for dear life, whispering a quick prayer.

  Now for the hard part.

  "Sydney, I want you to hold on tight, okay?"

  "We've already covered that."

  "Okay... Just hold on. This is going to get a little hairy."

  Carefully he set the secondary carabiner on his harness onto the new length of rope he had tied to his own. Thirty more feet...it didn't seem like much.

  Letting the secondary carabiner take their weight, Zack detached the primary from his line. There was a quick twang as their weight shifted, but the knot held.