Gates of Hell

by J. F. Penn

  Morgan saw the desolation on Jake's face, something that went much deeper than the pain of a snake bite. She realized that she knew too little about his past – and that she dearly wanted to learn more when they made it out of here.

  She stepped forward. "I'll go instead," she said. "I'll get the box. You don't need me when you have Sofia."

  "No." The voice was commanding, and Mikael pushed Morgan aside, his eyes fixed on Kadmon's. "I'll go in. Leave them be."

  "So be it." Kadmon gestured and the guards dragged Jake to the edge of the cave. Morgan ran to him, kneeling at his side. She cradled his head, desperation welling up as each ragged breath tore from his chest, his heart beating erratically, his expression betraying his devastation. Morgan felt as helpless as she had in the bone church of Sedlec. Her friend was dying and it looked like Mikael would go the same way. How could it be any different when he crawled within the pillar?

  But something had changed.

  As she calmed herself, Morgan noticed that the atmosphere in the chamber had turned, the air somehow growing thicker. Mikael was chanting, at first in a whisper. Then his words grew stronger. He spoke Hebrew prayers, the words somehow familiar, and yet their phrasing was foreign – as though spoken with an accent she had never heard before. Kadmon must have recognized something because he held out his gun, hand shaking as he pointed it at Mikael, his eyes wide with something like fear.

  Mikael squatted down by the pillar and drew in the dust with a slim finger. Morgan could just make out a circle with symbols etched inside and around it, as Mikael continued to chant, his voice echoing in the chamber. His tone was powerful, commanding, and it transformed him. Was this what her father had taught? Was this the Kabbalah magic that was only spoken of in whispers?

  Mikael completed the symbol and then clutched the air above it, pulling it into him and inhaling some of the dust. The symbol disappeared in a rush of air as he finished, going silent for a moment. He stood up; he seemed taller now.

  "You speak of things …" Kadmon's voice wavered and trailed off. "How do you know these words of power?"

  Mikael ignored him and bent silently to one of the wide openings in the side of the pillar, crawling inside. Morgan waited to hear the hissing grow louder, but there was nothing more than a shuffling as Mikael crawled deeper. The sibilant hissing seemed more of a welcoming chorus this time, unconcerned by the intruder in their midst.

  A few minutes later, Mikael emerged with a small ivory box in his hand, carved with symbols of power representing the Kabbalah tree of life and words in Hebrew script. Kadmon reached for the box, but Mikael held it just out of reach, his confidence unshakeable.

  "We leave now," he said. "My friends stay here and you give them a mobile phone to call for help. I'll come as your sacrifice, but they stay here."

  Morgan's forehead creased with confusion. What was Mikael doing?

  Jake coughed and shuddered a little. Morgan stroked his thick hair, one hand on his chest, his heartbeat weaker now, its rhythm skipping. Whatever Mikael planned, Morgan knew she needed to make sure Jake was safe and for that, they needed to get out of here soon.

  A moment of indecision and then Kadmon nodded.

  "Whatever you want." He smiled. "You'll be an even more appropriate sacrifice to the Misshapen Ones."

  Mikael handed the box over and turned back to Morgan. He moved towards her and Jake, the guards backing away from his advance, allowing him to kneel by Jake's side. He began to trace another circle in the dust.

  Across the cavern, Kadmon stroked the box, his good eye gleaming with lust for the powerful object which must surely lie inside. He walked away from the group of guards, his back turned to shield what was within from their view.

  Mikael's chanting was different now, a sing-song prayer as he finished drawing on the ground. He turned Jake's head, opening his mouth a little. Then he pulled the symbol from the dust and blew on his upturned palms. Morgan thought she saw something shimmer in the air, something that Jake inhaled, coughing as he did so. His eyes drooped closed and his head relaxed against Morgan's arm, his heartbeat becoming steady again.

  "Look after him," Mikael whispered, his dark eyes glowing with some otherworldly power. "I've given him more time, but he still needs medical attention."

  "What – " Morgan's words were cut off by Kadmon's audible gasp. He spun around in triumph, holding a white object aloft in his hand.

  "It's here," he cried, a childish delight in his voice.

  Morgan laid Jake's head on the ground gently and rose with Mikael as Kadmon walked over with triumph. He held out the Key for his men to see, his palm slightly curled so he could close his fist if any tried to snatch it. Morgan couldn't help but look at it; its presence seemed to suck the life from this dry place. The handle, or bow, of the Key was intricately carved into a skeleton figure, its bony hands lifted towards Heaven, pleading for release, its jaw open in a tortured scream. The knobs of its vertebrae became the blade, with a tangle of bone that surely wouldn't fit any normal lock.

  "Legend tells that the Key is made from the bone of one of the dark angels, one of those who guard the Gates of Hell." Kadmon's voice was reverent. "The lock will open when this bone fuses with the rest of its remains and the eternal circle is completed." He looked at Mikael. "You know this – you have clearly sought it too. So come with me now, and we'll finish this together. You will see it open before you are torn apart by the Devourers."

  "I do not serve the one you do," Mikael said, his body taut. Morgan could almost hear a powerful hum coming from him, like a generator storing energy, readying itself for some final event. "But I will see this ended." He held out his hand. "You promised a mobile phone."

  Kadmon's eyes narrowed as he closed his fist around the Key. Then he nodded at one of the men.

  "Give them yours," he said. "Then cuff this one and gag him. Blindfold him after we're out of the caves. I wouldn't want any kind of mishap on the way to the Gates."

  The guard tossed a mobile phone on the ground near Morgan, as two others cuffed Mikael, moving quickly, clearly concerned about his powers. He looked at Morgan just before they placed the blindfold. His gaze was piercing and in his eyes, she saw a promise. He would finish what her father had wanted to. He was the last of the Remnant – she knew it without question, in that moment. He hadn’t told her everything before, but she knew that Mikael would stand side by side with Leon’s memory; that he would act as her father would have wanted. Her heart went out to him, and she took a step forward, wanting to touch his hand. A guard pushed her away and they marched from the cave, pushing Mikael before them.

  Morgan turned and picked up the phone as they left, checking the bars to find there was no reception. She cursed and began to jog towards where the men had exited. Maybe Mikael could get them to at least let her and Jake out of the cave first.

  A boom resounded through the cave and a shockwave lifted her off her feet, slamming her back onto the salt-rock floor of the cavern. Her ears rang as she lay stunned, realizing too late what had happened: Kadmon's men had set an explosion at the entrance to the cave, causing it to collapse. They were trapped down here, with Jake on borrowed time.

  Chapter 23

  From where she lay on the floor, Morgan could see all the way to the hole in the roof of the cave. The sun had dropped in the blue sky, but the harsh desert light still cast shadows within. The vast central pillar stretched almost to the top, only a few feet from open air. Perhaps it was close enough for her to climb out, or at least get a signal on the phone.

  Morgan took a deep breath, feeling the ache in her chest from the fall as well as the earlier accident, the exhaustion in her body from the scuba dive and the adrenalin hangover from the rush of the day. In her twenties, she could have shrugged off the physical pain, but now … perhaps she was getting too old for all this. Perhaps she should have stayed at Oxford University and followed the academic route after leaving Israel.

  She laughed softly, shaking her head as she
got to her knees and then pulled herself up, using the wall of the cave for support. This was where she belonged, out in the field for real-time adventure, not studying artifacts that were the end result of someone else's experience.

  Jake coughed from where he lay, his face pale once again, his eyes closed in pain. Morgan went to him, lying down by his side and pulling him into her arms. It was the first time they'd been this close, and Morgan wished it could have been under different circumstances. He whispered something in Afrikaans, a language she'd never heard him speak, a timbre of pleading and desperation as if he was locked in a terrifying memory. She cradled his head, rocking him back and forth.

  "It's alright," she murmured. "I'm here. You're going to be fine, I promise."

  His eyes fluttered open, the amber-brown meeting her gaze.

  "Morgan." Jake's voice was hoarse, but the way he said her name made her smile.

  "Shhh." She put a finger on his lips. "Save your strength. We'll make it out of here. We always do."

  His lips twitched a little as if to smile, and then he grimaced, fists clenching in pain. Morgan pulled him closer as his muscles spasmed, his stubble rough against her neck. As the convulsion passed, he moved his head away slightly.

  "There are some benefits to dying," he said, voice muffled against her skin.

  "You're not dying if you can make comments like that," she said, pulling away slightly, just enough to look into his eyes again. His skin was paler now, and his joking words weren't enough to hide his pain. He raised his hand and cupped her cheek.

  "Morgan … if you go after Kadmon and I can't be with you, please be careful. Your father wouldn't have wanted you to die in his memory and I …"

  "Your scars are mine, remember," Morgan said, her voice soft. "You're always with me, Jake. But this isn't over and you're not dying here. Promise me."

  He nodded, but Morgan could see his eyes were unfocused now, his forehead clammy with sweat. There wasn't much time.

  She untangled herself from him and laid his head down gently, turning him onto his side in the recovery position in case he lost consciousness entirely. She stroked his hair one last time and then stood to assess their options.

  Walking slowly to the rock fall that blocked the exit, Morgan checked the area, looking for any way they could dig themselves out. But the cave-in had been well-orchestrated, the charges at several places along the tunnel. The salt rock had spilled out, many of the chunks too big for her to lift on her own. The faint cry of a desert eagle broke the silence, the call of a hunter. Morgan looked up at the opening and saw the bird silhouetted against the blue. That's where she needed to be.

  She turned and studied the thick pillar, the round openings an easy foothold to get her started. Her eyes narrowed as she followed the contours up to the smoother surface nearer the top, the salt rock polished by the rain. It was a long fall.

  Morgan put the phone in her inner jacket pocket and walked to the pillar. The sibilant hiss of the nest of snakes had calmed, but she still placed her foot gently into the large entrance hole. No need to goad them into emerging to check their territory. She began to climb, her body remembering the instinctive moves that she had once practiced with Elian in the Judean desert, exploring the Ein Farah canyon. The muscles in her legs ached but she pushed them to the limit, reaching for the handholds above her and propelling herself up.

  Her breathing was labored as she reached the halfway mark. Don't look down, she thought, wedging herself into a crack and pulling out the cell phone with one shaking hand. There was half a bar showing. She dialed Martin Klein's number, but the phone just beeped with no service. She had to go higher.

  Morgan's leg muscles and forearms burned with pain, but she knew Jake didn't have much time before the venom began to shut his system down. Despite her concern, it was Adam Kadmon's face she saw at the top of the climb. He would pay for her father's murder, would pay for Jake's pain, and she would be the one to take him down.

  Taking a couple of deep breaths, Morgan began to climb again, her eyes fixed on the opening above, imagining herself out there in the open. To keep her mind from the pain, she thought of Mikael, the near-glow on his face as he had chanted prayers she didn't recognize. After what she had seen with ARKANE, his powers seemed only surprising because he hadn't revealed them sooner, but she wondered what his angle was on the Gates of Hell. Did he even care about Kadmon's agenda, or was he intending to wrest some kind of power for himself?

  Finally, Morgan could go no further. Her heart hammered in her chest, her leg muscles burned, her arms shaking with the effort of the climb. Sweat soaked the back of her t-shirt. The rock had smoothed out and there were no further handholds, no way to boost herself up higher without the certainty of falling. She pulled out the phone again. Three bars.

  She dialed Martin's number, heard the ringing tone and breathed a sigh of relief. Please answer, she thought, exhaling a long breath, trying to calm her heart rate. It kept ringing and then finally clicked into voicemail. Tears of frustration welled up and pricked her eyelids. There were other ARKANE numbers she could call, but Martin had a unique way of shortcutting how things were done, oblivious to politics and people's feelings. He was their best hope for organizing the quickest response.

  She closed her eyes, hung up and dialed again, willing him to be there. This time the phone was picked up.

  "Hello." Martin's familiar voice was curt, as if he had been deeply engaged in something and resented the intrusion. Morgan imagined him pushing his glasses up his nose, pulling his attention from whatever held his interest.

  "Martin, it's Morgan, we need help and I haven't got long."

  "Of course, of course." She had his attention now. "Go ahead, give me the details."

  "Trace this signal and get a helicopter medevac here as fast as possible. We're in a salt cave under Mount Sodom. Jake's hurt and …" Morgan looked down at the cave floor far below, realizing that she had no plan for the descent. "I'm stuck up a very high pillar."

  "Um, OK." Martin's voice was bemused, but Morgan could hear his fingers tapping fast on the keyboard at his desk. "I'll mobilize out of Dimona, the closest military base. It shouldn't take too long. Can you hang on in there?"

  Morgan felt the strain in her arms, her legs still shaking. She'd been run off the road and nearly blown up today, not to mention diving the crushing depths of the Dead Sea.

  "I guess I'll have to," she said. "Tell them to hurry, though. The light's fading."

  Martin cut the line and Morgan started counting, her whole being concentrated on clutching the pillar, focusing as the seconds ticked away.

  The sound of chopper blades overhead stopped Morgan at number 1806 and she managed a faint smile, hoping they would find the hole quickly. Once the light faded, there would be little hope of being found, and no way of descending, either. The silhouette of a helicopter soon appeared above the hole and a safety ladder descended. Morgan looked up to see a soldier leaning out the door, gesturing for her to grab the swinging end.

  With one shaking arm, she reached for it on the next pass, clutching it to her chest, feeling it tug upwards. She let go of the pillar and wrapped her legs around the rope, winding her body into the space between the rungs. The helicopter winched her up, and she ducked her face against the wind that buffeted the air around her. Strong arms pulled her up into the body of the chopper, strapping her into one of the seats with practiced movements. There were two soldiers in the back and another upfront with the pilot. One of the men put a headset on her.

  "Are you alright?" he said in Hebrew. "We were told you're IDF but we have no record of any teams out here."

  "I was in the Israeli Defense Force a number of years back," Morgan replied in Hebrew. "Thank you for coming to get us but my friend is still down in the cave. He's been badly bitten. We need to get him out."

  Morgan explained about the cave-in and the soldiers had a brief conversation, still hovering over the hole. A minute later, one geared up with a harness an
d extra safety ropes.

  "It's too narrow for a stretcher," he said. "So I'm going to go in and get your friend. Will he be conscious?"

  Morgan shook her head. "I don't think so. Please hurry."

  The soldier roped up and leaned out of the helicopter as the other man did a final check of the equipment. One last nod and the soldier jumped backwards, letting out his rope and abseiling from the chopper, down towards the hole. He slowed at the entrance, maneuvering inside and then letting out more rope. Morgan watched him descend into the darkness alongside the great pillar.

  Inside of two minutes later, the winch began to engage and wind back up, pulling the soldier and his unconscious passenger out. Morgan watched the men ascend, anxiety for Jake and her own exhaustion making her head ache. Jake's body slumped in the harness, his head lolling against the soldier he was strapped to. He would get the best medical treatment now, and somehow she knew he would be OK. She should probably get some medical help herself, she should rest, but Morgan heard Adam Kadmon's name in the beat of her heart, and she knew she couldn't stop now. Once Jake was in medical custody, she needed to find out where Kadmon's team had gone … because she was going after them.

  Morgan helped pull the other soldier and Jake into the helicopter and soon they were flying southwest to the Dimona military base in the Negev desert. Morgan used the helicopter's communication channel to get back in touch with Martin at ARKANE.

  "Can you track the group who left the caves before us?" she asked, struggling to be heard above the din of the helicopter blades. "Then I need transport out of here to wherever they've gone. They must be heading for the Gates now. I have to be there."

  "Give me some time to hack the satellites, but I'll be able to find that information easily enough." Martin's fingers tapped a staccato rhythm. "The transport links and airspace for Israel are so heavily monitored, I'll be able to discern a heading soon. How's Jake?"

  Morgan looked down at her partner's pale face, his lips pursed together in pain. She stretched out her fingertips and touched the heartbeat in his neck, feeling the strength of the pulse. Whatever Mikael had done, it had definitely given Jake more time than Kadmon's man back in the caves.