Mayan Darkness (A Hank Boyd Adventure Book 2) (The Hank Boyd Adventures)

by Matthew James

  Where the hell is he?

  I didn’t lie when I told Frost I had no idea where he was. Well, that’s not entirely true. I did lie to him when I said that he wasn’t on the train. That was made pretty clear when Frost couldn’t make contact with any of his goons. I knew Kane was cleaning house before coming to Nicole’s and my rescue. Like a good soldier, protecting the innocent.

  “Frost!” I yell as I come out of my roll and hop to my feet. I’m unarmed and so is he, so when I catch up to him I’m going to have to beat him into submission. I doubt he’ll be able to take me down with a bullet in his shoulder.

  I quickly make up Frost’s head start. The man apparently runs with a limp, an injury from the accident in Colombia, I’m guessing.

  Leaping into the air, I tackle the son-of-a-bitch responsible for so many deaths in the last few months—years including the expedition in Spain. And Dad. But Frost rolls with the attempt and tosses me aside, his injury not as severe as I thought.

  We stand as one, sizing each other up. I’m a few inches taller and physically more imposing, but Frost has a devilish gleam in his eyes, giving me the idea that he is a lot more dangerous than he looks.

  I step forward.

  He steps back.

  I take another step forward.

  He takes another step back.

  I’m about to leap forward, but he quickly disarms my advance, holding out his hand. A circular shape, almost like a glasses case if it were half the size and perfectly round, sits in the palm of his hand. Not knowing exactly what it is, I don’t follow his latest move back.

  He stops.

  “Do you know what this is?” He asks a look of pure insanity in his eyes.

  I don’t answer. I just stare at him, going over possible outcomes if I do in fact attack again. He needs to be stopped right here, right now.

  “This,” he continues, “is what’s left of the ash I found on Isla de Jaina.”

  My blood runs cold, as he opens the hard case, plucking its contents from inside it. He snaps the case shut and throws it aside. It lands on another set of tracks for oncoming trains, heading in the opposite direction.

  The clear sphere is the size of a large marble and made of what looks like glass. Frost even handles it like it is made of such, gingerly passing it back and forth from one hand to the other. He’s so fixated on the little ball that he isn’t even looking my way as he speaks.

  And that’s when I make my move.

  He’s mid-sentence when I charge, planning my moves three steps ahead of time. I’m going to tackle him to the ground and beat the shit out of him until he either dies or until I break both my hands.

  I make it two steps when something smacks me in the forehead. I slide to a stop, confused, and wipe my face clean. My fingers come away covered in a dark gray ash like I just joined Burt on the top of Mr. Bank’s home in merry ole’ London.

  Suddenly, my fingers start to darken and then I scream, as an all-consuming darkness eats away at my flesh, the pain entering and torturing my mind, body, and soul.

  45

  Outside Washington D.C., USA

  I feel nothing. The pain is so intense that I literally can’t feel it. My eyes are clenched tight too, so I can’t see what’s happening either. But then something happens.

  A strange burning sensation envelops my body, like a warm blanket, or a soothing bath. It’s a presence that I can’t explain, but one that I’ve felt in the past.

  I open my eyes, trying not to focus on the pain and see something that confuses my mind even more. The fingers on my right hand are shriveling up like blackened rotting carrots and honestly, I was expecting something different.

  The description given by Olivia was that the part of the body would just darken, die, and then turn to ash, blowing away with the wind. But my fingers just pulsate, refusing to let go. Like my body is fighting the darkness attempting to consume me.

  Then, a thought pops into my head.

  I remember back to Algeria when Nannot buried his talons into my flesh and attempted to rip out my very soul. He tried to destroy me from the inside out, but my body refused. I was powered by the Atlantean king and his three priest warrior children at the time, but I succeeded and drove out Nannot.

  I bring up my left hand, seeing that it too is refusing to let go. I close my fists and will them to heal—and just for a split second they obey until a sting of pain breaks my concentration and my mind reels back in torment.

  Clenching my eyes shut again, I kneel, curling in on myself, and concentrate again. Thinking back to how I beat it before. You had help, I think, gritting my teeth against the searing heat.

  Heat! That’s it!

  But again, I had help from Thoth and his kids. They lent me my abilities until I had to give them back in the form of a glowing white hot bullet.

  But what of the connection to the Atlantean blade we found on Jaina Island? How did I make it burn? I know there is still something inside of me, something that rewrote my very DNA that still gives me some abilities. I can literally see it in my eyes every time I look in the mirror. There is definitely something still inside me.

  So I try. I will the fires of An’tala to appear and burn off this…infection…this plague. Squeezing my fists tighter, I push deep from within until I feel myself about to pass out from the lack of oxygen from holding my breath.

  And there it is, just for a split second anyway. A very faint green aura appears over my hands but disappears when I lose concentration.

  “Hank!” Someone yells from behind.

  I glance back through squinted eyes, as Kane and Nicole, limp towards me. Kane has one of his arms around her side, under her armpit, half-carrying her.

  She’s a mess too.

  Her face is bleeding from another cut, this one somewhere in her hairline. Her left shoulder hangs uselessly to the side, the same one she hurt when our Jeep rolled.

  Kane isn’t much better either. He looks like he went punch for punch with a heavyweight…and won. His face is bruised and his nose is most likely broken. I think I even see a tooth missing.

  But… They’re alive and Kane has one of Nicole’s Rugers in his good hand.

  “Hank?” Nicole asks, concern spreading over her face. Then, she must see what’s happening to me because she pushes off of Kane and tries to come to my aid.

  “No!” I growl, holding out my hand. My voice sounds like it too is crumbling, falling apart. “Stay back!”

  Kane quickly raises the pistol and pulls the trigger, intent on killing Frost.

  Click.

  His eyes go wide as he tries again but fails. The gun is empty.

  Damn.

  Then, Frost starts to laugh, pulling another case from his pocket, opening the lid, extracting a second small glass ball. He steps forward and cocks his hand back about to throw it towards Kane and Nicole.

  I can’t let that happen.

  Too weak to get up, I close my eyes and push. I’ve beaten Nannot before… I can do it again.

  Flame on.

  My hands engulf in the electric green flame of Atlantis. The mythical Greek fire of old, surrounds my hands, burning off the darkness in one fell swoop.

  Then, I command it to advance up my arms, watching as it does. Feeling some of my strength return. I stand, bringing my eyes up to Frost, and see something behind him that almost makes me smile. But I don’t. I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.

  I almost laugh as his half-working mouth tries to hang open. The shock and astonishment in his eyes are something to behold too.

  Standing fully erect, I howl like a Viking before battle and the inferno fully surrounds me, immersing me in its healing warmth. Looking like the Human Torch, I step forward, giving Frost my own shit eating grin. One that says, “I bet you didn’t see that coming!” And quite frankly, how could he?

  Frost steps back scared out of his mind, as I step forward again. He throws his last ash-bomb at me, it harmlessly disintegrating as it touches me. He stum
bles, falling on his ass, as I step forward again.

  Something in him must snap because he leaps to his feet and takes off running…right into the oncoming train I saw sneaking up from behind.

  The train blares its horn as it strikes Frost, smearing him into paste on the train’s front facade. A squeal of metal-on-metal quickly erupts from the new arrival, as it engages its own set of brakes.

  Turning and meeting the shocked expressions of my friends, I bring up my hands and see that they are completely back to normal, minus the fire surrounding them of course.

  Flame off.

  The flame disappears, retreating back into my body. I step forward and feel something pinch the bottom of my foot. I look down and lift my bare foot up to see what the hell I stepped…on…

  Holy shit!

  I look back up to Kane and Nicole. Kane looks uncomfortable, but Nicole looks like she’s about to laugh. And it’s pretty obvious why.

  I’m completely naked and have what must be a couple hundred people looking out of their windows on the passing train beside me. Apparently, my clothes weren’t fireproof this time as I stand in the buff, catching up on my tan in the summer sun.

  EPILOGUE

  Washington D.C., USA

  Two weeks later

  The funeral went as expected, drawing hundreds of people from around the globe. It proved a testament to my father’s influence and to his good will. If anything, it attested that he was truly loved by many, some of which I’ve never met, and some I’ve known for years…like, Ben.

  Ben asked to step in and take the mantle my father recently held. I was honestly shocked that he would want to join us in the fray. I even warned him that it may not be over—that there could be more people looking for us. But his answer was the same.

  “There’s no place I’d rather be.” He reaches out his hand, looking for confirmation, but getting none.

  How on Earth can I knowingly put Ben in harm’s way?

  “Harrison?” He asks, hand still outstretched. “My arm’s getting tired.”

  My eyes light up at the use of my birth name, just like Dad used to torment me with and something I will truly miss.

  I accept the offered hand and squeeze. “It’s Hank. Just Hank. I was only called Harrison by one man and I’d like to leave it at that.”

  Ben’s eyes fall to the floor like he thinks he hurt my feelings or something, but I pull him in, embracing him like a true friend. “Thank you, Ben.”

  Ben hugs me, patting my back. “He was a good man and an excellent father. He’d be proud.”

  He then asks how he was going to join us. “It’s not like I can just quit my job back in Israel and get up and move. It would be very suspicious and could bring some inquiries.”

  I look to Kane. “Can we do anything about that?”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he says smiling.

  Two days later, Ben is named my father’s replacement as head curator of the Smithsonian Institute. Kane had relayed the predicament we were in and had his bosses in Langley pull some strings.

  Kane also requested that Todd Jenkins be brought onboard and added to our roster, permanently. I agreed, seeing his worth first hand while in the field. It would have been nice to have him during the romp through D.C. but Kane had said he was busy tending to other things.

  Now, Todd’s sole job is to operate with our team. We are currently his top and only priority until otherwise told—Kane being his direct superior. His genius level IQ and ingenuity with all things high-tech are now at our disposal whenever needed, which unfortunately I think will be often. Especially with what he found out while he was away.

  Blairsville, Georgia, USA

  Even with Frost and his mercenaries out of the way, I have a sneaking suspicion that this isn’t over. Zero is gone…for now…but certainly not dead. Their leader, the serpent queen, Coaxoch, may be down for the count, but her children are most definitely still out there. The only thing is… We have no idea where they are and need to confront them before anything else happens. Kane called it a “preemptive strike.”

  But that’s where Todd comes into play. He hacked the sword wielding assassin’s phone, tracing a message back to a random number from northern Georgia. Only, it wasn’t a random number. Todd dug and dug until he found a trail of paperwork leading back to Broadsword Inc., Frost’s security outfit.

  I climb out of our transport, another customized Cherokee SRT8, and follow Kane, dressed head-to-toe in combat gear. I look back and watch Nicole, who is similarly dressed, hot on our heels, along with five other men in tactical armor.

  “Todd?” I ask through our upgraded NVS3 glasses. “Are you sure the house isn’t booby-trapped or that there aren’t any other countermeasures to worry about?”

  “Affirmative, Hank,” he quickly replies. “The house is clean, but if you don’t believe me, subvocalize your NVS3’s and tell them to check.”

  “What?” I ask as we approach the door.

  “Just say, electro.”

  Kane stops and turns to me shrugging.

  “Electro?” I ask in a soft whisper.

  The world around me blooms to the shades of white and blue. The house is a big white blotch allowing me to see the individual electronic signatures within it. I look over the front door, seeing that it is, in fact, clean, seeing no abnormalities. The only thing there is, is what looks like a standard home alarm.

  “What about the alarm?” I ask.

  “Already disabled.”

  Kane turns on a heel, plants his left foot, striking out with the right. His boot hits in an explosion of wood, as the front door is blown in. He then raises his loan Desert Eagle and slowly leads the way.

  I look down to his left hand, cast from the fingertips to just below the elbow. The doctors said his hand sustained major damage and his twin-firing .50 caliber days are over. But at least he didn’t lose complete use of the hand. He just can’t use both Chip and Dale together.

  So now he leads us through with his customized full-auto Eagle, specially built for him. The extended clip hanging out the bottom doubles his payload, holding fourteen rounds instead of the standard seven.

  I step into the dapperly appointed home, AA-12 at the ready, Nicole bringing up the rear. She is still sporting the FN SCAR CQC that Kane gave her. She’s also continuing to use the FN40GL grenade launcher attachment. Apparently, she really likes having the option of blasting shit to pieces.

  We fully enter Frost’s home and immediately turn left into the office. Kane quickly and expertly clears the room, signaling the all clear, while Nicole scopes out the front hall. The other men from Kane’s hand-picked team go around the rear of the house.

  Two more of Kane’s team enters in behind us, clearing the rest of the downstairs before moving to the upstairs level. Then, we begin what brought us here originally.

  Frost’s computer.

  I sit at the oak desk and wake the desktop, shaking the mouse. The twenty-four-inch widescreen monitor blinks to life, revealing a wallpaper of Kate Upton half-naked on a beach.

  “Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition, 2013,” Kane says, glancing at the screen. I just shake my head, not wanting to know why he decided to memorize that.

  “Horunge!”

  The Swedish cursing from the hallway can only mean one thing. Something has seriously just pissed off Nicole. The sound of shattering glass answers the profanity, as she rummages through the shards of what must have been a display case.

  I turn, seeing Nicole enter the office, tears streaking down her face. I go to stand, but she shakes me off. So I stay seated and wait for her to explain.

  “Nicole?” I ask, seated in Frost’s office chair, but facing her. “What’s wrong?”

  Silently, she steps towards me and holds out her hand, beckoning for me to do the same. I do, and she drops what looks like a gold coin into my hand. I look down, examining the find, and realize what it is.

  It’s the coin Nicole and Tomas found in Spain. It’s th
e reason he died and why she was left for dead. I take another, closer look at the coin, which is no doubt made of orichalcum and not gold, and see strange but familiar symbols on the back.

  “It’s definitely Atlantean,” I say, flipping it over to look at the front. It’s then I see another thing I recognize. It’s a face I’ve seen only once but will remember forever.

  “It’s Thoth,” I whisper, remembering the gigantic statue of the Atlantean king in the necropolis.

  “Hank,” Kane says. “We don’t have time right now.”

  I straighten, getting a nod from Nicole. I hold out the coin to her, but she shakes her head.

  “It’s in the past. Gone with Tomas.” She wipes the last of her tears away on her sleeve. “Let us leave it at that.”

  The way she said us was obviously meaning her and me and I thank her for that. She will no doubt always have a spot in her heart for her slain husband and I would never ask her not to. The loved are gone but never forgotten. Like, Dad.

  “Okay,” I say, stuffing the coin into my pocket, and spinning my chair around.

  “Todd?” I ask. “You there?”

  “Sure am Hank. Give me ten seconds and I’ll be in.”

  We only have to wait eight before Todd finishes, bypassing what he called shit encryption software.

  “Okay, Hank. Do your thing.”

  The lock screen disappears, revealing the desktop. Icons litter the wallpaper around Kate and her hooded white parka. This would normally be a dizzying array of folders, but I have an idea of what I’m looking for, finding it above Ms. Upton’s head.

  The folder is labeled with a simple, 0. Zero.

  I double click and almost vomit as the information overload begins. Apparently, Coaxoch sent Frost everything she had. I scroll through the laundry list of sub-folders until a grouping of six at the bottom catches my eye.

  The first five I recognize immediately. They are the five ancient cultures that Atlantis is now known to be responsible for. To us anyways, I think. We still haven’t been able to go public with anything we’ve found. Not yet.