The Atlantis Plague: A Thriller (The Origin Mystery, Book 2)

by Riddle, A. G.

  “Sure thing, Mom. Back in an hour, and we’ll bring our homework,” Shaw snapped. He turned and led Chang down the darkened corridor.

  Kate, David, Kamau, and Janus walked in silence after that. Five minutes later the tunnel forked again. Kamau and Janus edged toward the new path.

  “Good luck, David,” Kamau said.

  Janus nodded to both Kate and David.

  “You too,” David said.

  He and Kate walked without a word for a bit. When David thought they were out of earshot of the others, he stopped. “Tell me you know what’s going on here. What’s saving the people in Malta from the plague?”

  “I don’t know. In the past, I saw the Ark, but I don’t know what happened to it. I saw the Immaru carrying it into the highlands, but I don’t know what happened after that.”

  “There are megalithic stone temples here that are almost six thousand years old—the oldest known ruins in the world. There are legends of miraculous healing dating back to the Roman period, when St. Paul landed on Malta. Could the Immaru have brought the Ark here for safekeeping?”

  “It’s possible,” Kate said, seeming distracted.

  “How can it be healing these people?”

  “I don’t know—”

  “What’s inside it?”

  “The body of Adam, our alpha—the first person we gave the Atlantis Gene. At this point, just his bones.”

  “How could his bones be healing people?”

  “I… I don’t know. We did something to him in the past. I was there, but I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t even see my partner’s face. The human genome was splintering—we were having trouble managing the experiment.”

  “The… experiment.”

  Kate nodded, but didn’t elaborate. “David, something is happening to me. It’s hard to concentrate. There’s something else. Dorian was there—”

  “Here—”

  “No. He was there in the past. I think he has the memories of another Atlantean, a soldier named Ares who came to Earth after the science expedition.”

  David stood there, stunned for a moment.

  “How?”

  “He was on the expedition, in Gibraltar. The tubes were reprogrammed to his radiation signature. When Dorian was put in there after the Spanish flu outbreak, he must have awakened with the memories, the same way I got the scientist’s memories.”

  “Incredible,” David whispered. A new kind of fear slowly surrounded him, setting in slowly. Dorian had knowledge of the past, possibly even more than Kate. That gave him a tactical advantage.

  “What’s your plan, David?”

  David snapped back to the moment, to the dimly lit stone tunnel. “We find whatever is down here, see if we can use it to find a cure, then get the hell out of here.”

  “The others?”

  “One of them is a killer and a traitor. We leave them down here. We have to put some distance between us. It’s the only way to secure you.”

  Kate followed David through the tunnel.

  The catacombs reminded her of the stone passages Martin had led her through below Marbella. In fact, the small town of Rabat itself reminded her a great deal of Marbella: both of them had Muslim and Christian influences and deserted Mediterranean stone streets.

  Kate felt as though a memory were just out of reach—the conclusion of her old life, the balance of the truth of what had happened at Gibraltar. Yet she felt like if she allowed it to come in, the last of her would flow out. And she would lose David. To her, the memory uncovered was the greatest enemy down here, but she knew David was right: a killer lurked in one of the other tunnels.

  CHAPTER 85

  CDC

  Atlanta, Georgia

  Dr. Paul Brenner slowly opened the door to his nephew’s private hospital room.

  The boy lay still. Panic ran through Paul.

  A second passed, and Matthew’s chest rose slightly.

  A breath.

  Paul gently pulled the door closed.

  “Uncle Paul!” Matthew called as he rolled over and coughed.

  “Hey, Matt. I was just checking on you.”

  “Where’s Mom?”

  “Your mother’s… still helping me with something.”

  “When can I see her?”

  Paul froze, not sure what to say. “Soon,” he mumbled absently.

  Matthew sat up and broke into another fit of coughing, spraying tiny specks of blood onto his hand.

  Paul stared at the droplets of blood that slowly began to flow across the boy’s hand, coalescing into small ravines of red.

  Matthew eyed it, then wiped his hand on his shirt.

  Paul grabbed his arm. “Don’t wipe it—just… wait, I’m going to get a nurse.” He rose and fled the room. He heard Matthew call to him, but Paul was already out of the room, walking quickly. He couldn’t watch, couldn’t stay in the room another second. I’m finally breaking, losing it, he thought.

  He wanted to go to his office, lock the door, and wait until the whole thing, the whole world was over.

  His assistant rose at the sight of him. “Dr. Brenner, you have a message—”

  He waved his hand at her as he quickly paced past. “No messages, Clara.”

  “It’s from the World Health Organization,” she said. She held up two pieces of paper. “And another from British intelligence.”

  Paul snatched the pages out of her hand and read them quickly. Then he read them again. He turned and stumbled into his office, his eyes still on the pages. What does it mean?

  He closed the door and quickly dialed Kate Warner. The sat phone didn’t ring. Straight to voicemail. Was it off? Out of reception?

  “Kate, it’s Paul. Uh, Brenner.” Of course she knew which “Paul.” Somehow even leaving a message for Kate Warner made him nervous. “Look, I heard from my contact at WHO. It seems there’s no record of a Dr. Arthur Janus. And I also heard from British intelligence. They have no agents named Adam Shaw. They even checked the classified records.” He paused, not sure what to add. “I hope you’re okay, Kate.”

  Dorian slammed the helicopter door and watched the hordes of swarming people grow smaller as he and his special ops team rose above Valletta.

  “What’s our destination, sir?” the pilot called back to him.

  Dorian pulled out his phone. No messages.

  “They went west,” he shouted. “We’ll have to look for their helicopter. Try the cities first.”

  In the catacombs of St. Paul, below the city of Rabat, Kamau walked in front of Janus. The tall African led the way with an assault rifle. The beam from the flashlight he’d strapped to the gun barely illuminated the wide tunnel. The glow from the lantern Janus carried behind him didn’t help much.

  “Where are you from, Mr. Kamau?” Janus asked quietly.

  Kamau hesitated, then said, “Africa.”

  “What part?”

  Another pause, as if Kamau didn’t want to answer. “Kenya, outside Nairobi. Now we should—”

  “Near the birthplace of the modern human race. I think it only fitting that we should have someone from east Africa on our expedition, hunting for the one African that changed history, who set humanity on its course.”

  Kamau turned back, shining the flashlight in Janus’s face. “We should remain silent.”

  Janus held a hand up to shield his eyes. “Very well.”

  In another part of the catacombs, Dr. Shen Chang walked just ahead of Adam Shaw. The British soldier had made Chang walk first. “For safety,” Shaw had said.

  Chang stopped and swung the lantern back to face Shaw.

  “Are you recording our path?” Chang asked.

  “And leaving breadcrumbs, Doctor. Keep moving.”

  The lantern light only half-illuminated Shaw’s face, and in that instant Chang thought the man, who was likely in his early thirties, momentarily appeared much younger.

  The face—that younger face—Chang knew it. Where had he seen it?

  Years, decades ago. Righ
t after he had delivered Kate from her mother’s body, from the tubes.

  In the memory, Howard Keegan, the Director of Clocktower and one of two members of the Immari council, sat behind a massive oak desk in his office. Chang fidgeted nervously in the chair across from him.

  “I want you to do a thorough exam of the boy you extracted from the tube. His name is Dieter Kane, but we call him Dorian Sloane now. He’s having some trouble getting… acclimated.”

  “Is he—”

  Keegan pointed his finger at Chang. “You tell me what’s wrong with him, Doctor. Don’t overlook anything. Just give him a full workup and come back here, understand?”

  When Chang had finished the examination, he returned to Keegan’s office, taking the same seat in front of the gargantuan desk. He unfolded his pad and began making his report. A few significant scars on his lower back and buttocks, indicative of past severe corporal punishment, perhaps two or three years before present. Physically, quite fit. Two centimeters taller than the average for his age. Several recent bruises, likely connected… Chang looked up. “Do you suspect abuse?”

  “No, for God’s sake, Doctor! He’s the abuser. What the hell is wrong with him?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t—”

  “Listen to me. Sixty years ago, when he went into that tube, he was the sweetest kid in the world. When he came out, he was as mean as a damn snake. He’s a borderline sociopath. That tube did something to him, Doctor, and I want to know what it is.”

  Chang just sat there, unsure what to say.

  The side door to the study burst open, and Dorian ran in.

  “Stay out, Dorian! We’re working here.”

  Another boy ran in behind Dorian, bumping into him. He peeked out from behind Dorian’s shoulder. The face.

  The two boys retreated, pulling the heavy door closed behind them.

  Keegan sat back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  Chang hated the silence. “The other boy…”

  “What?” Keegan leaned forward. “Oh, he’s my son, Adam. I’m raising Dorian as his brother, hoping it will help give him some stability, some sense of family. Dorian’s own family is dead. But… I’m scared to death that Dorian’s darkness, his sickness, will infect Adam, corrupt him. And this is a sickness, Doctor. Something is very, very wrong with him.”

  Chang was back in the stone corridor, the memory gone, the dim light returned. He stared at Adam Shaw, the half of his face he could see. Yes, it was him. Dorian’s adoptive brother. Keegan’s son.

  “What?” Shaw demanded.

  Chang took a step back. “Nothing.”

  Shaw closed the distance on him. “Did you hear something?”

  “No… I…” Chang grasped for words, some excuse. Think. Say something.

  Shaw smiled slowly. “You remember me, don’t you, Chang?”

  Chang froze. Why can’t I move? It was like some invisible snake had bitten him and a paralyzing poison was coursing through every inch of his body.

  “I was wondering if you would. It’s too bad. Martin remembered me too.”

  “Help!” Chang yelled out, a split second before Shaw drew the knife from his belt and slashed quickly across Chang’s throat and windpipe, spraying blood on the stone wall and sending Chang to the ground, gurgling, clasping his opened throat, fighting for a breath that wouldn’t come.

  Shaw wiped the bloody knife on Chang’s torso, then stepped over the dying man. Shaw placed an explosive on the floor of the tunnel, quickly armed it, and ran deeper into the tunnel.

  Kamau stopped at the sound. It sounded like a cry for help. He turned to Janus. The man had something. A weapon?

  Kamau raised his rifle.

  A blinding light, brighter than anything Kamau had ever seen, assaulted him. A sound, not a vibration, some sort of tuning fork went off in his head. He fell to his knees. What was Janus doing to him? He felt like his head was swelling, as if his brain were exploding from the inside out.

  Janus stepped past him without a word.

  The cry for help stopped David in his tracks. Who was it? The killer was making his move.

  The sound was close. An adjacent tunnel? An intersecting tunnel?

  Kate’s voice was a whisper. “David—”

  “Shhh. Keep moving.” He led the way, racing through the tunnel now. Before, David had paused at every opening, sweeping his assault rifle left and right.

  Now speed was the key, putting some distance between them and the sound, getting to a safe, defensible position.

  Up ahead, the tunnel ended in a large burial room with a stone table that had been carved out of the rock.

  David slowed his pace, his mind wondering what to do. Turn back?

  He came to a stop, and an eerie feeling ran up his back. He moved to turn, but a voice called out, “Don’t move.”

  CHAPTER 86

  St. Paul’s Catacombs

  Rabat, Malta

  David held his hands up. He could feel Kate’s eyes on him, watching his lead, wondering if he would turn and fire on the man behind him. David wanted to, but he didn’t know who or how many were back there.

  Another voice broke the silence, a voice David knew.

  “Lower your weapons. They’re the ones we’ve been waiting for.”

  David and Kate turned slowly, focusing on the young man who stepped from the shadows of the tunnel.

  “Milo,” Kate whispered.

  “Hello, Dr. Kate.” Milo nodded at David. “Mr. David.”

  David thought there was something distinctly different about this young man he had first met at the monastery in Tibet. A maturity, a poise.

  “Come with me,” Milo said. He turned and led the way through the tunnel, two heavily armed soldiers—Knights of Malta, David assumed—flanking him.

  The tunnel opened onto a large square stone room that was much larger than the other burial chambers. A half dozen guards stood around the room, guns at the ready.

  At the end of the chamber, a stone box lay on a slightly raised altar.

  Kate rushed to it and unslung the backpack. She turned back to the soldiers. “Can you lift the top off?”

  Milo nodded to them, and four guards released their guns and moved to the box.

  “Milo, how did you get down here?” David asked.

  “It is a long story, Mr. David, but let’s just say… that I wouldn’t want to do it again.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  At the altar, Kate was leaning over into the stone ark, working on something. David walked up beside her and peered into the box. Through the faint light, he could just make out the bones of a single person.

  Beside him, Kate manipulated a device David didn’t recognize, something from the pack. He knew she was collecting a genetic sample, but he had no idea how. Focus on what you know.

  He turned to the men spread out around the altar in the room. Milo stood silently in the center of them. There was something very different about him.

  David glanced back at Kate. “You have what you need?”

  She nodded.

  “Milo,” David said, “we need to get back to the surface, to our computer, where we can process the sample.” He paused. “We think there could be a killer down here.”

  “We will be fine here, Mr. David.” Milo nodded toward the soldiers. “They have been guarding this place for a very long time. And they can see you safely out of the catacombs.”

  Several soldiers broke from the pack and stood at the opening to the tunnel that led to the surface. David and Kate fell in behind them.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Dorian caught a glimpse of a helicopter on the ground. An Immari helicopter.

  He pointed at it. “There! They have to be close by.”

  As the first rays of sunlight broke across the tunnel, David realized that he no longer heard the guards’ footsteps behind them. He glanced back, but the guards were gone. He shook his head. Add it to the list of mysteries, he thought.

&nbs
p; At the surface, Kate raced to the computer, set down her backpack on the table and began working quickly.

  David checked the magazine in the rifle, a nervous habit, and paced the room, never taking his eyes off the entrance.

  “What happens now?” he called over his shoulder to Kate

  “I need to upload the new dataset to Continuity and hope they find a therapy from it.”

  “How long?”.

  She rubbed her forehead and stared at the screen. “I don’t know—”

  “Why not?”

  She glared up at him. “Well my brain is pretty much fried at this point, and Janus did the last round—he’s much better at this than I am.”

  He took a second to tear his eyes away from the tunnel. “Okay, okay. I just think… that expediency is the order of the day.”

  A chirping sound broke the tension.

  “What’s that?”

  Kate took the sat phone from her pocket. “There’s a voicemail.”

  Kate set the phone on the table and resumed typing and scanning the computer screen. “You listen to it if you want. I hear expediency is the order of the day, and I have work to do.”

  David glanced at the phone, then swiveled back around to the tunnel and raised his weapon. He made a mental note not to pressure Kate when she was working, and not to use ridiculous phrases that might come back to haunt him.

  Deep in the cave, beyond the light, he heard footsteps. They were faint, cautious, as if someone were approaching the entrance—someone who didn’t want to be heard.

  David got Kate’s attention, raised his finger to his lips, and sidestepped away from the opening, taking a position outside the tunnel. He pointed his rifle at it, ready to fire. It would be Shaw—he was sure of it, and he would be ready.

  Dorian leaned into the cockpit and eyed the Immari helicopter that sat in the square below.

  “Put down beside them?” the pilot asked.

  “Of course. May as well send a text message saying where we are. Or light a flare.”