The Sage Stone Prophecy (Arkana Archaeology Adventure Series Book 7)

by N. S. Wikarski

  He transferred the cold washcloth from his cheek to the bump on his head. The dizziness he felt was only partly due to his injury. He still didn’t know how Hannah had done it. One minute, he stood facing her, the next he was slumped unconscious on the floor. He tried to remember the sequence of events leading up to that moment. He heard her cry out for help which seemed pointless given her isolated location. Nobody else was quartered in that wing of the compound. And yet, he could have sworn he felt a man’s hand grip his head and drive it into the wall. Only two men besides himself ever visited Hannah. One was the Diviner and he wouldn’t have had the physical strength to knock Joshua out. The other man was Daniel and he was overseas at the moment.

  Mother Rachel, during her ramblings, had insisted she heard a disembodied male voice answering Hannah’s call for assistance. She’d also insisted that the girl was in league with the devil—that she’d cast a spell over Father Abraham and planned to bring down the entire Brotherhood. Joshua attributed the old woman’s dire predictions to overmedication but now he was starting to think she might be right. Nothing short of supernatural intervention could have saved Hannah. One moment, he had her exactly where he wanted her and then the next... he didn’t.

  The door to his chamber swung open. Joshua winced as he turned his head sharply to see his father looming above him.

  “Leave us,” the Diviner instructed the guards.

  They stepped back outside, shutting the door behind them.

  The spymaster attempted to rise.

  His father pushed him back down in his seat, exhibiting a surprising amount of force for one so frail.

  “What were you doing in my wife’s quarters?” the Diviner demanded.

  “I... uh... sometimes visit her,” Joshua hedged. “Daniel does too,” he added defensively.

  “Daniel has never tried to choke her!”

  “I was trying to get her to speak.”

  The Diviner stamped the floor with his cane. “By cutting off her air supply?”

  “She can talk. I heard her. She screamed for help. Mother Rachel heard her too.” Joshua knew he sounded desperate but he had to let his father know the facts.

  The Diviner glowered furiously at his son. “How dare you use my principal wife’s mental vagaries to excuse your own conduct? Mother Rachel is temporarily unbalanced. Nothing she says can be trusted.”

  “I had proof. I took a voice recorder with me. Now it’s missing. Hannah must have destroyed it.” Joshua despised his own rising sense of panic. The argument sounded flimsy even to him.

  “Of course, it’s easy to shift the blame to a helpless girl who can’t speak.”

  “But she can speak!” Joshua sprang from his chair. “I went to her chamber to prove that!”

  The Diviner grabbed his son by the collar. “I’ll tell you the real reason you went to Hannah’s chamber. Her beauty is a dangerous enticement to any man and you were tempted by it. Perhaps you thought you could seduce her—persuade her that a man in his twenties would make a better lover than an aged husband long past his prime.”

  “What?” The spymaster gawked stupidly at his father.

  “It was a perfect opportunity to prey on an innocent afflicted child. Who could she tell if you were to shame her?”

  “What?” Joshua repeated again, appalled by his father’s fevered accusations.

  Abraham forged ahead. “Oh, but she resisted mightily as a true wife should. The scratches on your cheek are proof of that. And you were well-served for your vile behavior. If she hadn’t struck you with that drawer, you would have had your way with her.”

  “I would have done no such thing! Hannah has bewitched you and clouded your judgment.”

  Without warning the Diviner slapped his son hard across the face, causing the gashes on his cheek to ooze blood.

  “Don’t lie to me! If anyone is in league with the devil it’s you! Only a man possessed by demons would attempt to rape his own father’s wife!”

  Abraham turned aside and shouted, “Guards!”

  The two sentries instantly returned.

  Focusing his attention on his son, the Diviner said, “Gather your personal possessions. These men will escort you to the Fallen city where they will leave you to find your way in the world as best you can.”

  “I’m being excommunicated?” Joshua asked in shock. He’d been instrumental in banishing many others from the Brotherhood. It was inconceivable that the same fate now awaited him.

  “You are dead to us from this day forward,” Abraham pronounced.

  Joshua tried one final plea. “But father, you need me to carry out your plans.”

  The objection failed to move the old man. “I’m sure Lieutenant Matthew will make an able replacement.” He turned on his heel.

  Joshua rushed after him but the guards blocked his path.

  Abraham paused in the doorway. “You have fifteen minutes to pack. Your wives and children will be reassigned immediately.” He hesitated and added in a tired voice, “I had such high hopes for you.”

  Then he hobbled out the door, leaving Joshua to pick up the scattered fragments of his ambition.

  Chapter 42—Changing Of The Guard

  Joshua contemplated his predicament from the back seat of an old Ford Bronco. The two guards who had escorted him from the compound were in the front. He had personally trained both of them as Argus agents. It was an insult that his own subordinates were now holding him in custody. Enoch, a brawny man in his thirties, was behind the wheel. Lemuel, a freckled youngster of nineteen, was in the front passenger seat. They had already driven some forty miles in silence. Enoch was now turning the Bronco onto the highway entrance ramp for Chicago.

  “Where are you taking me?” the spymaster demanded.

  Glancing in the rearview mirror, Enoch replied, “To the usual place.”

  His driver meant the mission just south of Chicago’s loop. The shelter took in all manner of derelicts from among the Fallen and asked no questions. Joshua himself had dropped many a lost boy on the mission’s doorstep. They were the inevitable by-product of the Nephilim’s polygamous mandate. While girls were assured of marriage to a senior member of the hierarchy, there were always surplus males in each generation. Teenage boys who committed minor infractions were excommunicated to make room for their elders. These, in turn, would be free to court younger brides and thus expand their own celestial kingdoms.

  Joshua had never wondered what became of these boys once they left the Nephilim. He assumed they were swallowed up by the corrupting influence of the Fallen world: some turning to prostitution, others to drug addiction or crime. In any case, they were not his concern once they’d been ejected from the Brotherhood. Tonight, however, he found himself speculating about their fate. Whatever it was, he had no intention of sharing it.

  Judging from the Bronco’s current location, the spymaster knew it would take an hour to reach their destination. Perhaps he could turn the tide in his favor before he was unceremoniously dumped at the curb in front of the shelter. Sitting forward, he leaned his elbows on the headrests of the two front seats. “So this is the way you show your gratitude.”

  Lemuel swiveled his head around to gaze at Joshua. “What do you mean?”

  “Both of you were hand-picked by me to join an elite intelligence corps answerable directly to the Diviner. As part of the Order Of Argus, you occupied an important position in the Brotherhood. Your futures were assured.”

  “They still are,” Enoch rejoined laconically.

  Joshua forged ahead, ignoring the comment. “I took the time to train each of you so that you could distinguish yourselves in my father’s eyes.”

  Lemuel flinched at his words. “It’s not that we’re ungrateful.” He paused, searching the captive’s eyes for an explanation. “But why did you attack Sister Hannah?”

  Joshua felt an inward flood of relief. Questions were good. They implied uncertainty. He might still have time to twist conviction into misgiving. Assuming a solemn
expression, he said, “Because the devil walks among us, my brothers.”

  “What are you talking about?” Enoch sounded irritated.

  Another question. Instead of answering it directly, Joshua took a side route. “Surely, you’ve noticed the changes in my father’s health lately.”

  Lemuel nodded. “Yes, he appears haggard and weak much of the time.”

  “Indeed, and do either of you recall when he started to decline?”

  The spymaster’s query was met by perplexed silence. “I can tell you exactly when. It was right after Sister Hannah abandoned him.”

  With one hand on the steering wheel, Enoch began to count on the fingers of his other hand. “I remember the month she left because it caused such a stir among the women.” He paused. “Right after that, the Diviner began to wander the halls at night. Supposedly he couldn’t sleep well anymore. That’s when everybody first noticed the dark circles under his eyes.”

  “It was the beginning of the end,” the spymaster intoned ominously. “To look at him today, you wouldn’t know it was the same man. And all because of her.”

  “Surely it isn’t Sister Hannah’s fault if Father Abraham longs for her,” Lemuel demurred.

  “The reason is far darker than that.”

  Lemuel rotated completely around in his seat to face his former leader.

  “We are the Blessed Nephilim. God’s chosen ones,” Joshua reminded them. “And Satan will do everything in his power to destroy our allegiance to the Lord. Remember, the Nephilim of old belonged to the devil until Christ’s sacrifice.” He paused for dramatic effect. “And the devil wants us back, my brothers. He wants us back in the worst way.”

  Both men seemed unnerved by the spymaster’s remark.

  “Do you know why Mother Rachel attacked Sister Hannah?” Joshua persisted.

  Enoch shook his head.

  Lemuel shrugged. “Jealousy?”

  “Jealousy.” Joshua repeated the word derisively. “Given the number of sister-wives she’s had over the years, why would she feel jealous at this late stage of her life?”

  “Well, the Diviner was really partial to Sister Hannah,” Enoch observed.

  “I’ve never seen a man so taken with a woman before,” Lemuel added.

  “Yes, taken,” Joshua agreed. “But not by love. By Satan.”

  Lemuel gawked at him.

  The spymaster noted the reaction and pursued his advantage. “What do we know about Sister Hannah, after all? She wasn’t born in our compound. She comes from Missouri—the daughter of a disgraced archwarden. Who’s to say she didn’t follow in her father’s rebellious footsteps? Perhaps she wanted revenge against the Diviner for reassigning her whole family. Maybe she sold her soul to the devil in order to get it.”

  “That’s a bit far-fetched,” Enoch objected.

  “Is it?” Joshua challenged. “No one can deny that her hold over our prophet is unusual. I would go so far as to call it unnatural. When Father Abraham lost Sister Hannah, he lost his grip over the congregation. If he fails to lead us in the paths of righteousness, we will all be damned.”

  Lemuel scratched his head. “These are serious accusations.”

  “I’m not the only one who has seen the truth. Mother Rachel saw it too. That’s why she tried to kill Hannah. She knew that, through the Diviner, Hannah was trying to destroy the Brotherhood itself. I went to visit Mother Rachel in the asylum. She told me as much though nobody believed her, poor soul. She, too, heard Hannah speak.”

  “So you weren’t lying about that?” Enoch asked in surprise.

  “Of course not! I took a voice recorder with me into that room. Then the next thing I knew, I felt an unseen hand slam me into a wall, knocking me unconscious. When I awoke, the recorder was missing. Tell me how a mere slip of a girl managed all that? There was nobody in that wing of the compound to assist her.”

  “Maybe the devil helped her,” Lemuel concluded.

  Joshua nodded gravely. “And I told my father as much. Sadly, our Diviner has fallen so deeply under Hannah’s spell that he refuses to listen to the two people he trusted most. Mother Rachel is in an asylum and I’ve been excommunicated. Our only crime is that we tried to avert disaster by making him see the truth.”

  The two guards silently pondered the facts Joshua had laid before them.

  The spymaster glanced out the window and realized that the Bronco was nearing the outskirts of the city. Although traffic had slowed, they were still proceeding at a rapid pace. He didn’t have much time left to save himself. He needed to raise the stakes.

  “And now the Diviner has hatched a mad scheme to take on the entire Fallen world. Tell me if that wasn’t inspired by the devil.”

  Enoch and Lemuel traded skeptical glances.

  “It’s the first we’ve heard of it,” the driver said.

  “So you haven’t heard the rumors about the secret lab?” Joshua challenged.

  “You’re not saying that it’s real!” Lemuel exclaimed.

  “Quite real. I’ve been there myself, in fact. It’s run by a foreign doctor who has created a terrible biological weapon. My father intends to unleash it on the Fallen world.”

  “The Blessed Nephilim aren’t supposed to mix in the affairs of the Fallen,” Enoch protested. “We were commanded by our founder to live apart and keep ourselves pure until the Day of Judgment.”

  “My father obviously has other plans for us.” Joshua gave a regretful sigh. “His obsession with Sister Hannah has deranged his thinking. If you follow where the Diviner leads, the devil will surely drag us all down to hell and the witch will have her revenge.”

  “That can’t happen!” Lemuel’s voice held a note of panic.

  The spymaster edged further forward in his seat. “It’s imperative that my father be stopped. The Brotherhood must be restored to a state of grace.”

  Enoch glanced at Lemuel. The latter nodded.

  Without warning, the driver swerved into the right lane and took the next exit. Once off the expressway, he pulled over to the side of the road and switched off the engine. Then he turned to regard Joshua intently. “Tell us what you want us to do.”

  The spymaster suppressed a triumphant smile. “Turn the car around and head back north. Everything will become clear to you shortly.”

  Chapter 43—Forced Retirement

  Leroy Hunt sat in the director’s office at the secret lab, his Stetson resting on his lap. He checked his wristwatch and drummed his fingers impatiently on the armrest of the sofa. He’d been cooling his heels for half an hour waiting for the doc to return. It had been a week since he overheard the whistle pig’s conversation with the big Russian. Time enough for the doctor to wrap up the last of his chores. All the water bottles had been delivered to the compound for distribution. Aboud had already told the preacher this would be his last day of service and his staff would take over from here. That meant the old man had no further use for the doc and Hunt had been given free rein to do what he did best.

  The cowboy had never visited the inside of the lab before. It was easy enough to stroll through the front doors which surprised him. No security at all. Leroy figured that the place was buried so far out in the country that nobody would stumble across it unless they had business here. When he entered the underground complex, he contemplated going in search of Aboud. One look at the decontamination chamber reminded him what lay on the other side of those steel doors. The cowboy wisely decided to let the little doc come to him so he made a beeline for Aboud’s office and took a seat. His wait came to an abrupt end when the door opened and two men strode in.

  “What’s up, doc,” Leroy said conversationally, making no effort to rise and greet the new arrivals.

  Aboud looked stunned. “What on earth are you doing here?”

  Leroy gave a lazy smile. “The boss sent me. Who’s your friend?”

  A pencil-thin Indian man, even shorter than Aboud himself, stood at his side. Judging by the grey streaks in his hair, Leroy guessed him t
o be about fifty.

  “My name is Maskeen.”

  “Mr. Metcalf told me you’re the number two man.” The cowboy’s smile broadened. “Just the feller I was hopin’ to meet. Hail, hail, the gang’s all here.”

  Maskeen glanced quizzically at Aboud for clarification.

  “This man works for our benefactor,” Aboud explained. Directing his next words to Leroy, he asked, “What do you want?”

  “Me?” the cowboy repeated innocently. “Nothin’. It’s the boss who wants somethin’. He wants to know why you been doin’ business behind his back. You and your buddy Vlad.”

  All the color drained from the doctor’s swarthy complexion. “I don’t know anyone named Vlad.”

  “Oh, sure you do, doc. Think hard. Big blond Russian feller. Shady arms dealer. Kinda famous too. Why, he even rated a red notice from them folks at Interpol.”

  Aboud shook his head in wild denial.

  “Don’t matter to me if you rat him out or not. I already had a heart-to-heart with him this mornin’.”

  Aboud’s eyes widened in alarm. “You spoke to him?”

  “I surely did.” Hunt stood up, hat in hand. “Went to deliver the same message I’m fixin’ to give you.” With his left hand, he moved the Stetson aside to reveal a pistol in his right hand. Without hesitation, he fired two shots straight into the doctor’s chest.

  The look of stunned surprise never left Aboud’s face as he staggered backwards and dropped to the floor.

  “Woo hoo!” Leroy let out a bloodcurdling yell of exultation. “There ain’t nothin’ beats a live target. Two in one day! My trigger finger is finally gettin’ a proper workout.”