Grenades sailed over the fog bank as another man unleashed several rapid shots from a forty-millimetre launcher. Three of his rounds exploded devastatingly in the chamber, a fourth hurtling through the archway onto the bridge. The sound of its detonation reached Eddie just as the hand grenades went off below.
He ducked as shrapnel filled the air. Barney was not so quick to react. Steel shards slashed into his forearm. He screamed.
Eddie sprang back up to pull him into cover – only to see a spear swing towards them—
An earth energy blast ripped into the balcony. It collapsed under the two men.
Eddie was thrown clear as the falling slab hit a pile of rubble, landing hard and tumbling down the broken debris. He came to a painful stop on the floor, smoke swirling around him. Despite being winded, he held his breath – coughing would give away his position.
He heard Barney groan nearby and crawled towards him, moving clear of the smoke to find the Australian sprawled against a stone-walled booth; some part of the processing centre. Whatever it was, it was keeping them out of sight of the Chinese – for now. But if they advanced, the pair would be sitting ducks . . .
‘Keep quiet,’ he whispered, dragging the wounded man into the booth as Wu shouted commands. ‘We’re stuck between both sides! Stay here.’
‘Where are you going?’ Barney asked through pain-clenched teeth.
‘I’ve got to get past them to find Macy. Fuck knows how, since I don’t have a gun – or even a stick.’
‘Hey, hey.’ The ranger pointed at his belt. ‘I’ve got something.’ He popped open a leather sheath and took out a gleaming steel Leatherman multi-tool.
Eddie accepted it, unfolding the largest blade with a snick. It was only four inches long, but the point and edge were clean and extremely sharp. ‘Ripper, mate,’ he said in an attempt at an Australian accent.
Barney frowned. ‘Don’t do that.’
‘Sorry. But thanks anyway.’ The blade ready in his hand, he moved back to their hiding place’s entrance. The wall of smoke roiled at him, drawn towards the tunnel by the air flowing up to the surface. ‘Don’t breathe this stuff in,’ he warned. Barney took several deep breaths before clamping a hand over his mouth and nose. Eddie held his own breath again as the dirty cloud reached him, the acrid gas stinging his nostrils.
He squinted into the mist. No sign of any Nephilim, but he briefly glimpsed one of Wu’s men cautiously advancing through the scattered obstacles about sixty feet away, an MP7 raised.
Could he use the thickening smoke to sneak up on the Chinese and take his weapon? Too far, too risky. Once he was unsighted, he might miss his target by twenty feet—
A boot scuffed less than twenty feet away.
Eddie looked for the source, but saw only a vague shadow before the orange haze wiped out all detail. That sighting was enough, though. One of the snipers, rifle raised so he could use the thermal sight to see through the smoke. He would pick out any Nephilim who raised their heads as clearly as if they were lit by spotlights; the Englishman would be just as visible . . .
Which, he suddenly realised, might work to his advantage.
He clenched his fists, ready for action – and stepped out into the open.
Nina and Cheng cautiously picked their way down the spiral walkway. It was adamantium, the same dark grey material the Nephilim used in their vimanas; the Veteres had presumably had the same knowledge of metallurgy. The path had survived the ages intact, only to be damaged within minutes of her arrival. ‘I am not to blame,’ she grumbled. ‘I have not trashed another archaeological site!’
‘What?’ said Cheng from behind her. The young man’s shoulder was pressed against the pillar, eyes fixed firmly on his feet.
‘Nothing!’ She paused as her corkscrewing descent brought the bridge and the great archway back into view. The fierce battle between the Chinese and the Nephilim had spread, a grenade exploding inside the pillar itself. Conflict was still ongoing, but she now heard more modern weapons than baraka fire. Wu’s team seemed to be winning.
Gadreel lurked at the side of the arch with a couple of his men. All were armed, but they were hanging back from the fight. Nina saw why as one warrior peered through the opening – only to fall backwards when a sniper’s bullet punched straight through him with an explosive spout of blood. Cheng swore in Chinese. ‘What’s that English saying about frying pans?’ he asked.
‘Getting out of them into the fire?’
‘Yes – except the fire is also surrounded by men with machine guns!’
‘We’ve got to get past them somehow,’ Nina said firmly. ‘It’s the only way out of here – and Macy’s over there.’
‘We still have to get down this path first.’ He looked over the edge – only to hurriedly pull back with a gasp.
‘Vertigo?’
‘Yes, yes.’ He wiped his sweating brow. ‘Somehow I forgot I had it. My brain reminded me!’
‘Just stay on the inside and don’t look down.’ She promptly ignored her own advice to see what lay below. Zan was nowhere in sight; he had presumably reached the bottom of the spiral and entered the lower chamber. His armoured chaperone ran across the bridge to join Gadreel.
‘Zan made it down,’ she reported before continuing. ‘He must have taken the tracker to Sidona.’
‘Why does she need it?’ he asked. ‘She’s already started the attack.’
‘Maybe they can use it to revive the rest of their people more quickly.’ She made another turn around the spiral – then abruptly halted. ‘Oh, crap!’
‘What is it?’ Cheng asked.
‘There’s a big-ass hole in the walkway!’
A chunk of the path had been torn away by the fallen bridge, only twisted stubs of the support struts remaining. The gap was over ten feet wide. Cheng paled. ‘How are we going to get across?’
‘Either jump, or climb down.’ She went to the ragged edge. The next leg of the spiral was more than fifteen feet below. Lowering herself as far as she could before letting go would cut the fall to eight or nine feet – manageable, but any stumble on landing could send her over. On the other hand, the path’s curvature around the pillar provided a very limited landing area if she jumped the gap.
She didn’t like either option, but the first seemed marginally less risky. ‘I’m going to drop down.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘You’d rather jump?’
‘No! I . . . I don’t want to do either.’
‘Nor do I, but I’ve got to stop Sidona.’ Nina lowered herself over the edge. A glance down to check she was lined up with her landing site – then she let go.
She dropped, the crystal pillar flashing past her—
Her feet hit the metal floor with a jarring bang. She gasped, reeling towards the endless drop below – before throwing herself back at the pillar. ‘Professor!’ cried Cheng. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah,’ she said, straightening shakily. ‘Okay, your turn.’
Panic crossed Cheng’s face. ‘I . . . I can’t,’ he whispered. ‘I want to, I know I have to, but – I can’t!’ The last was almost a gasp. ‘I’m . . . I’m scared.’
Nina felt both sympathy and impatience. ‘I know, and I understand – but I can’t wait for you to pluck up the courage. If you drop down, I’ll catch you, but you’ve got to do it now.’
His wide-eyed gaze flicked between her and the chasm. ‘I – I’m sorry, Professor. I can’t do it!’ He screwed up his eyes.
‘Okay, it’s okay,’ she assured him. ‘You come down when you feel ready. But I’ve got to go.’ She turned to resume her descent.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said again, before adding with strained humour: ‘This won’t affect my grades, will it?’
‘I think you’ve already earned an A,’ she said with a smile.
He managed to return it, just. ‘Go
od luck.’
She continued down the spiral. A crowbar-sized length of metal lay upon it, one of the broken support struts. On impulse she picked it up. As a weapon it was no match for a baraka, but at the very least, it might crack a giant’s kneecap . . .
Her confidence slightly bolstered, she resumed her descent.
The Chinese sniper moved carefully into the smoke, panning his weapon. Nothing on the thermal scope, but it wouldn’t be long before the surviving Nephilim ran out of places to hide . . .
A white flare against the black. He snapped the rifle towards it. Another of the monsters who’d left the chamber just before the attack peered through the archway.
His crosshair intercepted the ghostly shape – and blood sprayed in a hot glowing fountain as he put a .300-calibre Winchester Magnum round through the towering Nephilim’s skull. Target down, and he brought the rifle around to search for more—
Footsteps, worryingly close.
The sniper whirled to see another inverse silhouette just metres away. His finger tightened on the trigger—
And eased. It was no giant. One of his comrades had been disoriented by the fog. ‘Hey, over here,’ he said. The glowing figure came towards him. He lowered the gun, seeing the approaching man take on form through the smoke—
He wasn’t Chinese.
Eddie stepped up to the startled sniper and stabbed the four-inch blade into his throat.
It punctured his windpipe. The man let out a choked gasp, unable to scream a warning. The Englishman forced the blade across his neck, severing his trachea and slashing a carotid artery. The soldier dropped like a wet sack, blood gushing from the wound. Eddie dragged him back to the stone booth. It took all of Barney’s willpower not to yell in shock as the twitching body was dumped before him. The Yorkshireman held up the bloodied multi-tool. ‘Want this back?’
The ranger recoiled. ‘You keep it, mate!’
Eddie grinned darkly and pocketed it.
A rapid search of the Chinese gave him both the M2010 and an MP7, as well as a couple of hand grenades. He looked between the two guns, then unlocked the thermal sight from the larger weapon’s Picatinny accessory rail and slotted the device into place on the compact MP7’s matching mount. There was no way to test that the sights were correctly centred, but at close range it wouldn’t matter. He collected an extra magazine, then moved back into the smoke.
The other sniper’s rifle boomed. He had spotted another Nephilim – but also given away his position. Eddie snapped up the MP7 and looked through the scope. The shooter stood out clearly, his M2010’s barrel glowing hot white. A sweep revealed the other soldiers, clustered in two groups flanking the sniper as they advanced.
He quickly turned to check nobody was coming up behind him. Two figures were holding position; one was Major Wu, the only female team member. Neither had thermal sights, meaning they couldn’t see him.
Another rifle shot, then a third. An inhuman scream from the mist. If the Nephilim hadn’t yet been wiped out, there could only be a few left in the cathedral.
Eddie located the other soldiers again, then rapidly shouldered the MP7 and hefted both grenades. He pulled the pin from the first with his teeth and lobbed it in a high arc at the nearer of the two groups, then armed and threw the second at the further before ducking.
The first grenade bounced off the stone floor about ten feet from the Chinese. They whirled, knowing instantly what it was, but couldn’t find cover in the smoke—
The bomb went off. Razor-edged steel blasted outwards at supersonic speeds, tearing bodies apart. The second grenade detonated a moment later. Men were hurled screaming into the air.
Eddie jumped up. The sniper had been caught between the two explosions, staggering. The Yorkshireman snapped his gun’s fire selector to single shot for precision and sent a round at his head. It hit slightly below the crosshairs, but the result was still lethal. A chunk of the man’s lower jaw spun away amidst a spray of white, and he fell.
Eddie clicked the MP7 to full auto and swung it towards the nearer group. Only two were still moving. Brief bursts of fire corrected that. He found the other squad. More had survived the second explosion. They did not live long enough to be grateful.
The magazine ran dry. He ejected it and slapped in the replacement as he spun back towards Wu and her companion. Macy and Sandra weren’t with them, so there was at least one more soldier somewhere . . .
Wu ran for the tunnel. Eddie tracked her, but just as he fired, her bright blur vanished behind an obstacle. The bullets cracked against stone.
He followed her path to catch her as she reappeared – but then her companion flashed through his sights, his own gun coming up. Eddie unleashed another burst. The soldier fell. Where was Wu? He swung the MP7 towards the exit—
She reappeared. He fired again – but she disappeared into the tunnel, the rounds blasting shrapnel from the sandstone. ‘Shit!’ he barked, running in pursuit.
He quickly cleared the smoke. The cathedral was now in a sickly half-light, the orange fog tainting the crystal pillar’s glow. He hurried to the tunnel’s mouth. Wu was gone. He raced after her.
44
The bridge came back into sight below as Nina completed another circuit of the pillar. There had been another couple of explosions and several bursts of gunfire as she descended, but now the chasm had fallen eerily silent. Who had won the battle?
More loops around the pulsing pillar, and she neared the walkway’s foot. She slowed. Zan was down here somewhere, and she had no idea where the rest of the Nephilim might be.
The living ones, at least. She looked across the bridge. Nephilim corpses littered its other end. Gadreel was not amongst them – but he could now have few, if any, surviving followers.
Nobody was in sight within the cathedral, though, human or otherwise. She took that as a good sign and hurried down to the broad stone platform at the bridge’s end.
A wide opening had been carved into the pillar. She went towards it—
Some instinct made her halt. The glowing crystal wall was translucent enough to reveal a shadowy shape inside. A standing figure. It wasn’t large enough to be Nephilim . . .
Zan. The translator lurked in the chamber’s entrance.
She quietly moved to the side of the opening. The Chinese hadn’t yet realised she was there. She hefted the strut. A brief hesitation – what she was about to do could easily have fatal results – but then decided: fuck him. Zan’s treachery had caused enormous destruction and death, to say nothing of the peril she and her family had faced.
She readied herself, then whipped around the corner – and swung the spar at Zan’s head.
He heard the movement and started to turn – only for the metal bar to strike his skull with a flat crack. The blow dropped him instantly. Nina quickly dragged him out, pulling him under the foot of the walkway, where he would hopefully be out of sight. He was still alive, but would have a hell of a headache, if not a concussion, when he awoke.
It was the least he deserved. She returned to the entrance, stepping through it . . .
And stopped in amazement.
The sight greeting her was mind-blowing: a crystal-walled chamber resembling the mausoleum inside the Nephilim flying fortress, but on an infinitely grander scale. It was cone-shaped, widening as it rose, and stretched upwards for well over a hundred feet. Another spiral path, this one hewn from the glowing surface and paved with adamantium plates, circled the inner wall almost to the vaulted summit. Glassy stalagmites stabbed upwards from the edge of its lowest turns.
All around the chamber, held upside down in recesses within the walls as if cocooned by crystalline spiders, were the rest of the Nephilim.
Nina stared in shock at the unmoving figures. There were hundreds of them, entwined in the same glassy tendrils she had seen when Gadreel’s sarcophagus first opened. A legion of grey faces
, trapped in the eternal sleep of the damned.
She had found Tartarus, the inescapable underground prison from Greek and Roman mythology – which also entombed the half-angelic Watchers from biblical apocrypha. Once again, a truth from before the dawn of known history, when Homo sapiens were little more than the animalistic slaves of the Veteres, had been mutated by time into part of human religion. The fallen angels were real.
And they were about to awaken.
Blood and torn flesh disfigured the luminous walls where a Nephilim woman had been blown apart by a grenade. The frozen figures around her were similarly mutilated, dead in their crystal cocoons. The priestess – not Sidona, Nina could tell from the remains of her clothing – had been standing before one of them. The glassy strands around the warrior’s corpse had withdrawn into the wall. The glow of the crystal around him was different from the others, turquoise in tint. Again, she had seen the same thing with Gadreel’s sarcophagus. The priestess had been watching the warrior’s revival when the grenade killed them both.
So where was the resurrection key?
She looked up, following the spiral to its top. Dark shapes were visible through a crystalline ledge protruding out to beneath the centre of the chamber’s ceiling. The qi tracker – and Sidona.
The high priestess hadn’t heard Zan falling. Too far away – or was she in a trance? It didn’t matter. She wasn’t yet aware of Nina’s presence.
The redhead ran up the spiral. The Veteres had had space for many more prisoners, empty recesses dotted between the occupied. She passed another warrior whose resurrection had begun, the gossamer strands partially reabsorbed. Based on her experience, it would take a few minutes for him to wake. He was not a threat – yet.
She kept going. The inverted figures flicked past her. Disturbingly, many of the sleepers were frozen mid scream as if the process had been both rapid and terrifying, faces twisted in torment. Men, women – and children, ranging from near adulthood to toddlers. She felt a surge of disgust towards the Veteres. If their idea of civilisation was imprisoning babies for no crime other than being born, the world was better off without them.
The Resurrection Key Page 50
