by Alan Baxter
There was some general laughter and looking around, Are you a flyer, Jose? No, I’m no flyer, are you a flyer? Isiah smiled as they toyed with him, waiting. Eventually one said, ‘Who the hell are you anyway?’
Isiah pulled out a large bundle of banknotes. Several expressions in the room changed. ‘I’m looking for someone who will fly me and my friend to Flores, no questions asked.’
One of the men sat forward, his eyes on the money. ‘When?’
‘Right now. I want to be in the air in ten minutes.’
The man let out a low whistle. ‘You must be hot, man! How far behind you are the police?’
‘I’m not in trouble with the police,’ Isiah said. ‘I have el Diablo on my tail.’
The man laughed, his large, round belly shaking over the waistband of his grubby jeans. ‘I bet you do! How much of that money are you offering?’
‘All of it. Assuming we leave right now.’
The man stood up, pulling his jeans up roughly. ‘Follow me, Mr Rich. I’ll have you in Flores in no time.’ He stopped, casting a sidelong glance at Isiah. ‘This isn’t going to get me shot is it?’
Isiah shook his head. ‘I really doubt it.’
The man took Isiah’s bundle of money, his various colleagues shaking their heads, some smiling, some looking grave. As they left the room Isiah paused in the doorway. When the pilot and Samuel were a few paces ahead he concentrated, slowly waved his hand around the room, staring each person in the eyes as he did. They looked at him quizzically. Then he stepped out. As he walked back towards the door the conversation began again. ‘Hey, where’d Jose go?’ he heard one of them say. He smiled and followed their newly bought pilot.
The man led them out into the hot, bright day again, over towards his plane. It looked battered and dirty.
Samuel tapped Isiah on the shoulder. ‘Everything all right?’
Isiah nodded. ‘He’ll take us to Flores.’
‘That was a lot of money, man.’
‘Money means nothing to me, Samuel. I have more than I know what to do with.’
Samuel shook his head, but chose not to press the matter any further.
It took about ten minutes for the small plane to taxi out and receive permission to fly. It was a nervous ten minutes, hoping that Lucifer would not make it back. ‘Won’t he be expecting us to go to Flores?’ Samuel asked.
‘Certainly, but we’ll travel cloaked, the same way we hid in the airport. That’s why I needed someone else to fly the plane. Otherwise I’d have just stolen one. When he checks each flight coming in to Flores he won’t find us. By the time he’s decided that he’s missed us, we should be well hidden in the jungle. Then he’ll just go to the site and wait for us there.’
Samuel raised an eyebrow. ‘You hope.’
Isiah nodded. ‘Yeah.’
They took off without incident, climbing to their cruising altitude for the short flight. Isiah repeated his previous trick, tucking Samuel’s consciousness away and masking his own. He sat concentrating, thankful the pilot wasn’t particularly talkative. After they had been in the air about fifteen minutes he sensed the furious presence of the Devil. He pulled his psychic cloak down tightly, his attention entirely on hiding. He felt the Devil’s mind sweep over the small plane, probing its occupants. The pilot was oblivious to the intimate invasion as Isiah threw the thought of a naked woman into his mind, just in case he was thinking about the two strange men he was flying to Flores. As a small smile played at the corners of the pilots mouth, the Devil’s attention passed on. Clamping down hard on Samuel’s consciousness, Isiah sang to himself in Spanish, filling his mind with everyday nonsense. He felt the Devil’s probing mind slide over him, then away. Samuel’s empty mind got a similarly cursory scan, then the presence was gone. Isiah sighed and relaxed, though only slightly. Hopefully now they could have some peace until they got close to Flores. Then they would be on the run again.
15
‘So did you get your story typed last night?’ Thomas Drake asked Katherine as they wandered around the site in the mid-morning heat.
‘I put down a full overview of the operation, a good description of what’s been uncovered and lots of tantalising hints to pique people’s interest. I’ll get that to David later today and he can run it as a prelim article. Hopefully that will convince enough people to buy the next issue that will have a full colour feature. Hopefully Pedro won’t sell me out to other reporters between now and then.’
‘So how much longer are you planning to stay here?’
Katherine made a rueful face. ‘I have to leave tomorrow. No choice, unfortunately, though I’d rather stay a lot longer.’
‘Why do you have to go?’
‘Well, this was a quickly arranged extra excursion. I’m actually flying down to Rio tomorrow for meetings before a three week tour of the Amazon Basin. I actually had a flight booked for 7am Saturday, but managed to postpone it until the afternoon. Hopefully I can get someone to drive me back to Flores first thing tomorrow and I should make my connection. Ah, my exotic job. Hopefully I can get back here for a few more days on my way back and I should be able to get this story down .’
Thomas whistled through his teeth. ‘You have a hectic few weeks ahead of you, my dear.’
‘I do. But I’m having a break when I get back. Once I’ve put the feature together I’m taking a week off. I promised my boyfriend that I’d have some time for him and I’m not going to let him down again.’
‘That sounds like just the ticket. Are you going far, or just having time at home?’
‘Well, Peter suggested we take a break for a week or so in his bedroom.’ She coloured slightly, looking up at Thomas. Can I say things like that to a retired English vicar?
Thomas smiled warmly. ‘Not too bad a suggestion, I’d say. You don’t think so though?’
‘Oh, it’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just that it would be nice to go somewhere away from home. Maybe the Keys, with hammocks and beaches and cocktail bars.’
‘That sounds ideal. And wherever you go, there’ll be a bedroom, won’t there?’
Katherine’s cheeks coloured again. ‘You are deliberately embarrassing me, Thomas Drake! But you’re right, and Peter deserves everything he’s going to get in that bedroom, wherever it may be. It’s high time that I had more time with Peter and this week off is going to set the precedent.’
‘Good for you! All work and no play, after all.’
They wandered on between covered digs, glancing down into them from time to time to see the serious faced workers diligently brushing, tapping, scraping. Katherine hoped that this site wasn’t discovered by anyone else during her absence. If a television crew appeared offering Sanchez a lot more money than she could it would take the exclusive attention from her. ‘What will you do?’ she asked Thomas.
‘After you’ve gone? Well, I should be going with you, considering I’m your photographer.’
Katherine laughed. ‘We’ll either have to come clean, or embellish our story. You must be uncomfortable with this lying.’
Drake shrugged. ‘It’s not so much lying as bending the truth, my dear. It’ll be easy enough to simply tell them that you have to go on to another assignment where I’m not required. I can just claim to have a personal interest in developments here and stay on for my own sake, as I’m a freelancer. Not a lie, and I’m sure Pedro won’t mind.’
Katherine nodded. ‘I’m sure he won’t. Well, fair enough then. As far as they’re concerned, I have to leave, but you’ll stay on your own time.’
They strolled on in silence for a while, circling the site, absorbing the atmosphere. Workers hurried around, carrying various tools, each with their own specific task. Katherine wondered what they would do after the work here was finished. The only consolation being that there was an awful lot of work to do here. If Sanchez could withstand the financial drain, or get more backing based on his discoveries, then they would no doubt continue to work on this site for months.
Her mind wandered back to the previous evening and her disturbing encounter with the village elder. He was, first and foremost, a superstitious old man, she had to make a point of remembering that. But she couldn’t shake the feeling the brief conversation had left her with. What if he was right and something terrible was going to happen?
‘Are you all right, Katherine?’ Drake asked, breaking her reverie. ‘You’re frowning.’
She mentally shook herself. ‘Yes, sorry. You remember that village elder that made us jump in the pyramid last night?’
Thomas nodded, smiling crookedly. ‘I have to admit that for a second there I thought it was curtains for me. That place gives me the willies enough as it is!’
Katherine couldn’t shake off the perturbed feeling that was trailing her like a stray dog. ‘Well, after I left you guys last night he came to me again, as I was about to go into my hut. He wouldn’t come in but he said that the men we spoke to, the ones that warned me about a cloak of death, were right. He said that I had now seen that death and that it was coming here and there was nothing I could do about it.’
Thomas made a thoughtful noise. ‘You think it’s more than just his superstition?’
Katherine shook her head very slightly. ‘You know, the reason that I feel more concerned than I might do otherwise is because of something else he said. He said, “The priest, Father Paleros, can not protect you and the white haired man who was once a holy man can not protect you.” Did you tell him you were a vicar back in England?’
Thomas raised his eyebrows as Katherine spoke. ‘Certainly not. The first and only time I saw him was in the pyramid with you and Pedro. I wonder how he knew. Something in the way I walk perhaps?’
Katherine laughed, despite her concerns. Drake was a very intelligent, wise old man, yet he still maintained a child like sense of nonsense. She was sure that it was one of the things that made him so likeable. ‘I really don’t know,’ she said. ‘All his talk could be put down to superstitious ramblings, but then he comes out with that little gem. It’s just enough to make me wonder what the deal really is with him. How could he know? Have you told anyone?’
‘No, I haven’t.’
‘So how did he know you were a holy man. And on top of that, he said that I’d seen the death that was coming here and it had scared me. I had just said about what I’d seen when he appeared, so he could easily have overheard me, but that implies that he’s referring to the man I saw as death. And that’s assuming that I really did see a man.’
‘Did you?’ Drake’s face was serious.
‘I don’t know.’
Drake put a hand on Katherine’s shoulder. ‘You know, I think it might be quite important to decide what you really did see.’
Katherine looked at him for a moment. There was a serious glint in his eye that she hadn’t seen there before. ‘Well, I simply can not deny, however much I’d like to, that something weird has happened every time I touched the skull. That white noise of voices floods my mind, it’s so blatant that I can’t say it doesn’t happen. When I concentrated with my eyes closed a maelstrom of colours coalesced into an image of jungle and a man crouching there, among the greenery. I’m convinced that I saw those things, but did I construct the image in my mind or was it put there by... by the skull, or by a third party of some kind.’ Katherine shook her head vigorously. ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she said with an expansive release of breath. ‘Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. If it is something supernatural then I don’t know how to deal with it and it’s scaring me. But I refuse to let it drive me away.’
Drake squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. ‘I understand your concerns and I can understand why you refuse to let it affect your plans, but I think you should take it seriously. Sometimes we have to admit that things are happening that are beyond our comprehension. We don’t necessarily have to understand them or know what to do about them, but we should never ignore them. A lot of people would pretend that nothing unusual was occurring, and I think that is very dangerous. After all, if you’re planning to leave in the morning, then you’ll be gone before long and you can consider this from a detached perspective. That often helps.’
Katherine nodded. ‘Of course, you’re right.’ She smiled bravely. ‘Come on, let’s go and see if we can find Pedro. See if anything new has turned up this morning.’ As they walked on she added, ‘I just hope that this death doesn’t arrive tonight.’
Carlos pulled out his compass and a battered map from the thigh pocket of his combat trousers. He squinted up at the sun, took a compass reading, turned on the spot. Then he smiled. He would easily make the site by late afternoon, hopefully around dusk. He would have plenty of time to scope the place out and find out where the priest was staying. Then, after dark, the fun would begin.
He pulled a squashed packet of Marlboro from his breast pocket and pulled one from the pack. As he lit it he noticed a leech inching its way over the top of his boot, continuing up his trouser leg. He bent slightly and touched the glowing end of his cigarette to its head. With a quick sizzle it writhed and dropped down into the leaf litter. He straightened up, stretching lazily.
Returning his map and compass to his pocket he struck out again, his machete in his free hand swinging casually by his thigh. His thigh that ached interminably, the skin tight and tender. And his head was a constant buzz of pain, sharp on the surface, dull, penetrating underneath and his ribs ached every time he drew a breath. As he drew on his cigarette he cursed that German mercenary again.
He hated to feel weak, vulnerable. He would never admit being vulnerable to anyone or anything, but his weakness bothered him. He was tiring far quicker than he would normally. Though he was making good time and would complete this mission exactly as he’d planned, he couldn’t help wondering how much it was going to take out of him. How long it would take him to recover. Damn that idiot toy soldier. For the thousandth time he wished that the mercenary had survived the blast so that Carlos could kill him himself.
No matter. No point in dwelling on glory that wasn’t available when he could concentrate on glory that was. He would complete this little task tonight and he would draw not only immense pleasure from it, but a huge amount of energy. It would empower him as killing always did. That American before had given him a great deal of entertainment and a superb rush. The buzz of that killing had kept him going for hours and that was nothing compared to the high that tonight would bring. Tonight would be a night like no other.
As Isiah sat in the cramped seat of the small plane, his cloak held tightly about himself and Samuel, he felt another presence drifting by. He recognised it straight away but was wary, considering the possibility of a trick. He waited. A moment later the presence drifted by again, unmistakable. Isiah relaxed, letting the presence find him.
There you are! You hide well, Isiah.
Thanks, Gabe, Isiah replied, smiling despite himself. What’s up? More bad news?
I’m afraid so. Gabriel’s voice was heavy. With more than a small dose of anger. I’d better be quick because I don’t want to put you guys at too much risk, but I thought you should know this. Lucifer has managed to invoke a state of chaos at Flores airport. He can’t find you, he’s getting more and more furious by the moment and it doesn’t look like he’s willing to go and wait for you at the site. He’s managed to get people killing each other at the airport, disrupting all kinds of things and his minions are everywhere. He even has dozens of minions covering every inch of the few roads leading out of Flores. The airport’s been closed.
Isiah ground his teeth in frustration. OK, Gabe, thanks. Is this pilot one of yours?
Indirectly, yes.
I’ll try to protect him, but you may have to look out for him too.
No problem, Isiah, do what you have to do.
Yeah. Thanks a lot, man. Gabriel’s presence vanished as Isiah locked down his cloak again as tightly as he could.
So Satan was bringing out all his reserves now. Why was he so anxio
us to catch up with them before they reached the site? Isiah had been sure that he would give up the chase and simply intercept them there. Maybe he was scared that they knew something he didn’t. He had asked Isiah why he was persevering with the task he had set Samuel. He’d nearly blown it for them there on the plane with that comment. Fortunately Samuel had been too scared to notice.
So now they definitely couldn’t land at Flores. It was heading into the afternoon now and Isiah knew that he had to get Samuel to the site by evening. He didn’t question this knowledge; it was the Balance’s way of slipping information to him as it became available. He had long since got used to the strange sensation of knowing things for certain without any noticeable input of information.
So that left him with a difficult decision. He had already apologised to Gabriel for the pilot because it was obvious to him that he wouldn’t be able to land at the airport. He was going to have to bring the plane down.
That in itself presented problems. He couldn’t bring the plane down near the site as that could risk interrupting other schemes. Their arrival had to have as little impact on the people at the site as possible. Neither could he bring the plane down near the airport, as that ran the risk of being spotted by Satan or his minions. But perhaps the answer lay there. If Satan was convinced that they were coming in via Flores somehow, as it seemed that he was, then they might be able to sneak around him. Then they could come down no more than a few hours trek from the site and Satan wouldn’t notice them. By the time he decided that he’d missed them they would be well on their way and perhaps Isiah could get Samuel there without a fight. Then the fight would happen at the site like he had originally thought.
So, just one problem remained. How to get the pilot to change his flight path without asking any questions and without thinking too hard about what he was doing. Isiah still couldn’t risk dropping their cloak. Satan was bound to be scanning all the planes in the area.
