The Phoenix Apostles

by Lynn Sholes

  "That's really sweet, Matt, but is this the appropriate time to be telling me? I think we should leave Halloween chat for some sunny day at the beach or something. Know what I mean?"

  He didn't answer. Instead, Seneca heard what sounded like him digging into his jacket pocket. Next was a crackling sound like he was opening a candy bar wrapper. Then a snap and shaking sounds.

  Suddenly, the space around them came to life in a soft green glow.

  "Happy Halloween," he said with a broad grin.

  GRAFFITI 2012, PARIS

  "How MANY GLOW STICKS do you have?" Seneca asked as Matt held the light-emitting plastic tube in front of them and started along the tunnel back the way they had come. The chemiluminescence from the stick painted their immediate surroundings a pale lime green.

  "I packed them thinking they might come in handy in the dark of the catacombs. The good news is, I have two." He moved cautiously along what was once a quarry shaft that probably dated back to the Romans.

  "What's the bad news?" Seneca held on to the back of Matt's jacket as they gingerly made their way across the rough, uneven floor.

  "Each one lasts about a half hour. Unfortunately, there's no way to turn them off and conserve the light. So if we don't find our way out of here in about an hour, we're screwed."

  "Then we need to move as fast as we can."

  "Just remember, if we get injured, even having the light stick

  won't do us much good."

  "Yes, sir."

  It was about thirty minutes later by Seneca's calculations when they came to an area of the tunnel partially flooded with ankledeep water.

  "You remember this?" Matt asked.

  "Sort of. After the crawlspace, I was completely disoriented. I know we passed through water, but I can't swear this was the same place."

  "Damn." Matt shook the glow stick.

  "What's wrong?"

  "We're losing it. I probably should have waited to activate the stick until we got to the crawlspace."

  "You did what you thought was best. Let's just keep moving."

  She tried to sound confident, but she could tell the stick was dimming. The green glow made everything start to look the same to her-endless rock walls and scattered debris. For all she knew, they could be going in the wrong direction and heading deeper into the maze of tunnels. It seemed that all she could think about was the story of the guy who died in the dark a few yards from an exit. They didn't find his body for eleven years. She was wandering through the Empire of the Dead. Was it just a matter of time before she and Matt joined their ranks to become another set of bones among millions?

  They paused as Matt shook the stick again. This time it seemed like his effort only made the light diminish faster.

  "Take a good look around," he said. "We need to keep going as far as we can before I activate the other glow stick."

  Seneca took a hard look at the details of the tunnel up ahead, but the fading glow stick only illuminated eight or ten feet in a circle around them. And even as she tried to see what lay ahead, the light faded like a candle at the end of its wick. "Let's just keep going. There's nothing else we can do."

  "Okay. Watch your head. The ceiling drops down in places."

  With a tight grip on Matt's jacket, Seneca sloshed through the cold water. Soon, she felt the floor incline, and once again the path became dry and crunchy.

  "A few more yards, then we'll stop," Matt said.

  A moment later, she felt Matt halt and drop down against the wall, pulling her beside him.

  "Are we having fun yet?" he asked as she heard him toss the glow stick across the tunnel. It hit with a soft thump. Like taking its last breath of life, the plastic tube glowed dimly before dying.

  She reached out and took his hand. Seneca had taken his hand earlier, too. She hoped he didn't mistake it as a romantic gesture, just that it made her feel safe. "I only met you a week ago and so far I've gotten you into more trouble than I've ever been in my entire life. You're a good person, Matt."

  "I'm just another of your satisfied customers," Matt said. His words were lighthearted. "But I think I'm more the culprit than you give me credit."

  "Thanks for trying to make me feel less guilty. And I appreciate your humor."

  "Truth is, I don't want to cry in front of a pretty lady like you. I guess I'm trying to apologize. If I hadn't called you, you'd probably be catching some rays around your apartment pool right now."

  She squeezed his hand. "So tell me again why you're coming along on this quest?"

  "Are you kidding? If we make it out of here alive, this is all going into my next book. I wouldn't miss this for the world. And the travel is tax deductible. Plus, we're in this together. As far as we know, we are the only people in the world who have stumbled onto this tomb robbery story. We've got to make an effort to get to the bottom of it."

  Seneca raked her hand through her hair. "Frankly, none of it makes sense. We're talking stealing old bones here. What if it's a perverted attempt at some global scavenger hunt? The winner gets to sleep in Grant's Tomb or something equally twisted. There are a lot of sick people out there. We may be chasing nothing more threatening than an international fraternity prank."

  "Now that would make quite a plot. Gamma Sigma Kappa frat brothers hunt down journalist and writer so they don't fuck up their college initiation. That should land me a lead story on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. Of course I'd have to give up my writing career and become a greeter at Wal-Mart." He started fumbling in his jacket. "Time to light the way."

  "Know what? Rather than using the glow stick, how about saving it for an emergency?"

  "What do you propose? Trying to go on in the dark is slow and risky."

  "I've got a better idea."

  "I hope it involves a giant floodlight."

  "Actually, you're close." She dug deep into the side thigh pocket of her cargo pants. Her fingers found the smooth metal surface of her compact digital camera. Carefully, she removed it, knowing that if she dropped the camera in the pitch blackness of the tunnel, it could be lost forever.

  "So don't keep me in suspense. Do you have a flashlight hidden away?"

  "Sort of. Remember on the plane I mentioned that I bought a digital point-and-shoot for the trip? I've had it all along. But it was just now that I realized we could use it to help find our way out of here."

  "The flash would be blinding. We could never use it as a flashlight."

  "Of course not. But we could take a picture with the flash and then look at it in the LCD display. It would show us what's up ahead for maybe twenty or so feet. The battery is good for hours, and the memory card holds tons of pictures."

  "Damn," Matt said. "I gotta hand it to you, that's brilliant. Have you ever used the camera before?"

  "No. I bought it at the gift shop at the airport. I took a quick look at the directions and figured I'd have time to practice with it at the hotel, but I forgot about it until we were leaving to go meet guide, or whatever he was. I've never taken a picture with it. But how hard can it be?"

  "You're certain there's a battery and memory card in it?"

  "Yep, brand new."

  "Then let's give it a try. Know how to turn it on?"

  "Yes, that much I remember from the quick start guide."

  Seneca fumbled with the camera for a moment until she found the tiny power button. The rectangular LCD on the back of the camera glowed slightly and displayed a few small function icons like battery strength and red eye reduction.

  "Okay, I think we're ready. Let's get up so we can move as soon as we study the photo."

  "Good idea," Matt said. He stood and helped her up beside him. "Now, we need to cover our eyes or the flash will be painful."

  "Got it." She held the camera out at arm's length in the direction she hoped was where they needed to go. "Are you ready?"

  "Yes," he said. "Do it."

  "Here we go. Three, two, one."

  Even with closing her eyes and holding her le
ft hand over them, she saw the white flash around the edges of her palm and through the skin of her lids. An instant later, the blackness returned.

  "You okay?" she asked.

  "No problem. Let's see what we've got."

  Seneca held the back of the camera toward them and found the button to review the photo. The LCD displayed the image of a stone wall. It was overexposed with little detail other than white blotches caused from the flash being so close.

  "You need to swing to the left about twenty degrees and try it again," Matt said.

  "I also need to keep my feet in place when I've finished taking the picture so I can make any adjustments."

  "Good idea."

  "Let's try it again." She found the button that switched the function from photo review to taking pictures. Holding it extended in her right hand, she said, "Ready?"

  "Ready."

  Covering her eyes with her left hand, she pushed the button, and the flash went off.

  "You good?" she asked.

  "Fine."

  "Then let's take a look."

  Seneca shifted the function to review. Holding the camera between them, she watched the image appear.

  "Holy shit!" Matt said.

  "Oh, my God, there's someone there."

  Seneca felt a cold blade of fear rip through her as she glared at the image. Standing ten or so feet in front of them was a woman. She had long hair flowing down around her shoulders and was dressed in what looked like a loose white gown, like a choir robe. Her arms were outstretched.

  "Hello?" Matt called. "Anyone there?"

  "Can you help us?" Seneca said. "Hello, please say something. Help us get out."

  She looked at the image again. The woman seemed to be poised, calm, and serene, as if in a tranquil garden or church. She looked almost artificial like a mannequin or a painting.

  Matt slipped his arm around her waist and whispered, "Stay calm. Maybe it's just graffiti-something painted on the wall."

  She let out a long sigh and a tiny nervous laugh. "Of course. We're standing here like a couple of dopes yelling at a painting. I gotta tell you, that scared the shit out of me."

  "It's probably like the skeleton man we saw painted on the tunnel wall coming in. Remember?"

  "You're right. Now that we know there's a painting of a woman on the wall in front of us, let's take a deep breath and try it again."

  "I'm ready."

  "Cover your eyes. Here we go."

  Holding the camera in front of her, she put her left hand over her eyes and squeezed them closed. "Three, two, one."

  Like before, the soft white glow of the flash still made it through her lids. "Okay, let's see what we've got."

  Pushing the function button caused the LCD screen to produce the latest image. Seneca screamed and let the camera slip from her hand as the face of the woman filled the display.

  "Shit!" Matt said. "She's standing right in front of us."

  WRITING ON THE WALL 2012, PARIS

  "ARE YOU THERE?" SENECA reached to try to touch the woman who had appeared in the picture, her words sounded strangely high-pitched, like a squeaky door. She felt her pulse pounding in her neck and temples. "Please say something."

  "Can you help us find our way out?" Matt said. "We're lost."

  His voice doesn't sound much better than mine, Seneca thought. She felt his arm still hugging her waist, reminding her of how secure she always felt in Daniel's embrace. The memory quickly passed with the gravity of the moment.

  "Please speak to us," Matt said.

  No response from the blackness before them.

  For a good thirty seconds, they stood in silence, only the sound of their breathing filled the eternal night of the catacombs.

  "Are you all right?" Matt whispered.

  "Not really. I'm pretty freaked out." She felt him pull her tighter to him, and she appreciated his support, both mental and physical.

  "Let's find your camera."

  "Hang on." She bent until her fingertips touched the damp, sandy floor, praying the camera had not been damaged when she dropped it. It was not around her feet, so she ran her hand over the floor in front of her. Nothing.

  Matt got down beside her on hands and knees. A few seconds later, he said, "Got it."

  They stood, and he reached to find her hand, carefully placing the camera in her palm.

  Seneca brushed off the dirt from the metal surface and located the power button. She pressed it, but there was no response. Perhaps it was on, she thought, and pushing the button had just turned it off. Pressing the button again brought the same result.

  "We may have a problem here. It won't turn on."

  "Probably jarred when it hit," he said. "But those cameras are pretty rugged. Try again."

  She did with no success.

  "How about reseating the battery and memory card?"

  "Good idea. Now if I can just remember how to open the compartment on the bottom. It's hard enough when I can see what I'm doing."

  Seneca worked with the tiny release on the bottom that protected the battery and memory card slots. A few seconds later she managed to open and remove both, then placed them back inside and closed the door.

  "Here we go," she said.

  Pushing on the power button, she sighed as the LCD display glowed slightly. The original overexposed photo of the wall appeared.

  "We lucked out," Matt said. "Now advance to the picture of the woman. I want a closer look at her."

  "Frankly, I don't ever want to see that woman's face again."

  Seneca pressed the forward button but nothing happened. The photo of the wall remained in the LCD.

  "Where's the picture of the woman with her arms outstretched?"

  "Let me try going in the other direction." She pressed the reverse button. "Looks like the only picture on the card is the first one I took. The two of the woman are gone."

  "Well, I know it wasn't our imaginations. The pictures were there."

  "Agreed, but they're not now. I don't know what to tell you."

  "Let's try it again. This time, without dropping the camera."

  "I didn't do it on purpose. When it looked like she was standing right in front of me, I panicked."

  "I understand. Let's just take another picture so we can get moving."

  "Fine." She realized they were both getting edgy. Being trapped in the Catacombs of Paris was not something either of them had to deal with every day.

  She pressed the function button preparing the camera to take another picture. "You ready?"

  "Yes;" he said, "but this time, blinded or not, I'm going to keep my eyes open. I want to see firsthand what's in front of us."

  She held the camera out at arm's length and covered her eyes. "Three, two, one."

  Flash.

  "Oh, shit!" Matt said.

  "What is it?" Seneca asked as the darkness instantly enveloped them.

  "That hurt big time."

  "Did you see anything?"

  "Yeah, a supernova. Now I know what it's like to stand about ten feet from the sun."

  "Any graffiti?"

  "I'm not sure. Know what could have happened-maybe you accidently zoomed in on the picture of the woman when you took the photo. That's why her face filled the frame."

  Seneca suddenly felt embarrassed that she had come close to a panic attack from looking at graffiti on the tunnel wall. And the close-up of the face could easily have been her fault. "You're right. I probably pushed the zoom button by accident. Sorry."

  "So let's see what you got this time."

  She pressed the function button and the LCD display turned on. This time there was no woman-painted or otherwise. Just a wall that appeared to be twenty or so feet in front of them.

  "You sure you're aiming in the same direction?"

  "As sure as I can be. If you think you can do better, have at it."

  "I wasn't criticizing, just asking."

  "Sorry," Seneca said. "This place is definitely getting to me."

>   "Let me see the new picture again," Matt said.

  She held the back of the camera toward the sound of his voice.