The Immortality Curse: A Matt Kearns Novel 3

by Greig Beck

  The big woman immediately eased Eleanor down a ramp toward the waiting car.

  “What a horrible old witch,” Rachel whispered.

  Matt smiled. “I dunno; I kinda got the feeling you two sort of clicked there for a moment.”

  “Not in a million years,” Rachel replied with conviction.

  The driver was a large man and quickly came around and bent beside the wheelchair as if preparing to lift the old woman into the back seat. Greta placed a hand on his shoulder, firmly, and levered him back a step. She then eased Eleanor into the car.

  Greta followed and before she closed the door, she looked back at Matt and Rachel. The woman’s expression was cold and hard, and it made Matt feel a tingle of unease run up his spine.

  “Jesus, that’s one scary woman.”g

  “And here I was thinking you two sorta clicked there.” She nudged him. “Come on, it’s late and I’m tired.”

  They slid into the car, and it soundlessly drove them back to their accommodation. Upon entering the foyer, Rachel turned and pinned Matt to the wall with a hard kiss.

  “Hey, I thought you were tired.”

  She grinned, kneading him to hardness.

  “Helps me sleep.”

  He grinned in the dark. “Always glad to help.”

  *

  He floated on his back in the shimmering bath-warm pool. It was just gone 5 am and there was still a chill in the morning air. The sky was still a fathomless black, but the dry atmosphere promised another hot and cloudless day.

  The stars had been chased away by the approaching sunrise, and like the old saying went, the night was always darkest before the dawn.

  He wondered what it must be like to live like this day in and day out. Having so much wealth that nothing was beyond reach or forbidden to you. He spat a stream of water into the air.

  Nothing was forbidden except something that could never be bought, he mused. And that was life, or simply, more of it. He had the feeling that both Eleanor van Helling and the prince both believed strongly in the mythical wellspring and were prepared to use their wealth and influence to find it.

  He came upright in the water. And what then? Perhaps they would sip from some golden goblet and magically become younger? He’d seen a lot of strange things, but even that stretched his beliefs.

  He breaststroked for a while and then turned on his back again in the oasis-style pool. This thing, if real, this pool, spring or fountain, would be the best kept secret on Earth. You were either allowed to know, or you were killed.

  But who was allowed to know? And how did Clarence become part of the secret group, and then why did he leave?

  Matt let himself float as he stared up at the blackness. It made him think of the glass window they’d seen in Fort Severn. Could that have been what the starless dark referred to, some sort of predawn image?

  He closed his eyes, and using just his hands glided slowly through the warm water. Inside his eyelids, there was the darkness, but cluttered now by his imagination. He tried to assemble all the stained glass window’s images in his mind’s eye – the massive Ark, the images of great cliffs or a mountain range. Animals of many varieties, as well as thick forests with lush trees and ferns – perhaps this was the depiction of the Garden of Eden. The darkness, striped by the beams of light – the glory of god’s radiance, he wondered.

  He felt the tingle of fear as he remembered the huge creature smashing in at them. It had been in the glass as well. It was one of the Nephilim, he was sure of it, a guardian, but guarding what or whom? He concentrated, trying to tease out the small details locked away in his memory. In the glass, the thing had been pointing at a group of figures kneeling before a pile of stones. He tried to focus, but it all scrambled into confusion and he let it melt away.

  Matt floated in the warm pool and it began to seep into his imagination. He saw again the magnificent sapphire-blue pond, the beautiful naked woman, who smiled at him with a mixture of confidence, seductiveness and something else – recognition.

  It almost made sense, but as he tried to focus on it and draw out more meaning, it escaped him. Like chasing a dollar bill down the street on a windy day. The moment you went to grab at it, another gust would lift it to dance away from your fingertips.

  His imagination wove in his memories. Some were of good times, like swimming in warm nighttime surf, or lush lagoons with shimmering waterfalls he had visited on exotic holidays. Others were much darker and were of haunted places that were full of shadows, with ink-black water below, and no light above, and rocky caves of dripping moss and secret, stealthy noises.

  Matt’s eyes flicked open. That’s it – where he had seen the image before – vast bodies of water that existed in the darkness of a lightless cave.

  “Could it be?” he whispered. “Underground?” His head collided with the side of the pool. “Ouch.” He came upright and then lifted himself from the pool. On the far horizon there was a blush of blue as dawn approached.

  “Okay, Noah, is that what were you trying to tell us?” Matt grabbed his towel from a pool chair, sat down on it and rubbed his face.

  Rachel stepped out in a one-piece swimming costume. The thin material hugged her body in all the right places. She skipped lightly down the steps and headed to the pool. She hadn’t seen him yet, and she started to do stretches.

  “Morning, Beautiful.”

  She flinched. “Jesus.” She threw her towel at him. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, Professor.”

  “I see, party is over, back to Professor, is it?”

  She grinned. “We’re not dating.”

  “Not yet.” He smiled up at her. “Hey, heads up.”

  A pair of large guards dressed in black, combat-style uniforms came around the corner. Both had huge German shepherd dogs on leashes that had furious eyes and straining necks.

  Rachel quickly threw the towel around herself. They nodded to Matt and let their eyes linger on Rachel.

  “Hey, pooch.” Matt reached out to scratch one of the enormous dogs on the head as it went past.

  “La!”

  Matt recognized the Arabic word for “No” too late. The dog spun and sunk its teeth into his hand.

  “Fuck!” The dog hung on, making a furious noise.

  The guard yelled a command, and the dog released Matt, but still stood with its neck craned and gun-barrel eyes on him. It wanted another taste by the look of it.

  “Son of a…” Matt gripped his wrist and looked down at the deep puncture wounds in his hand.

  The guard apologized profusely, and by his pallid complexion, Matt guessed he would probably lose his job for allowing one of the dogs to bite a guest of the prince.

  “Ofar has never, ever done this before.” He shook his head. “I am so sorry. I will call a doctor.”

  Matt flexed his fingers, and then wrapped his towel around his hand. “It’s okay; I guess I scared him. And don’t worry, it’s already stopped bleeding.” The pain was excruciating, but he smiled anyway. “Just scratched me really.”

  Matt knew that wasn’t true as his hand throbbed mercilessly and the towel began to redden even more. “You can continue your rounds, no harm done, and no one needs to know.”

  The man nodded, almost bowing, and dragged the dog away. Ofar looked back over his furred shoulder and licked his lips.

  “Never work with animals and children. Haven’t you ever heard that before?” Rachel said, and came to kneel beside him and unwrap his hand to check it.

  “Did you see the look that dog gave me? He wanted more fingers.” He sighed, flexing his throbbing hand.

  “Come on, let’s get some iodine on that before you turn into a werewolf.” She turned back to the compound.

  Matt followed her, feeling his hand tingle strangely beneath the towel.

  *

  The sand shifted and then slid away from the figures as they gently surfaced. One after the other they rose up until they numbered over 100 strong.

  Their black clo
thing was set aside for desert fatigues and beneath their skullcap full-face helmets the emblem of the crossed keys was seared onto their foreheads. Their clothing was nothing like standard military attire in that it had other features designed for covert infiltration – cooling lines ran throughout the framework like spider veins that protected the wearer from the savage heat of the desert, but also masked them from any thermal readers in the area. Above the cooling lines was a Kevlar mesh that could withstand a direct hit from anything up to an assault rifle round, and also survive close proximity fragmentation blasts. It was a combination suit of armor and cloak of invisibility for the modern warrior – or assassin.

  Two men at the front made hand signals and the group flattened, melding into the soft sand again, but this time they began to worm forward, like slow stroking swimmers through shallow water. It had taken them hours to reach the wall of Prince Najif’s estate, but the pace meant none of them had registered on the motion sensors they knew were feeling for them.

  Their destination was close now, and their objective was clear – destroy the seekers of the wellspring.

  *

  Matt and Rachel stood out front and at exactly 9 am, a limousine pulled up and Khaled stepped out. He had rolls of stiff paper under his arm and he waited and watched as another man exited the car with a wooden case that he held out flat in front of himself.

  Just inside their module, Greta and Eleanor waited as Khaled bounded up the steps and grinned widely.

  “A magnificent day.” He waved a hand, theatrically.

  “You got it?” Rachel asked.

  “Of course.” He shook Matt’s hand and bowed to Rachel. “I said I’d bring the missing piece of the Tabula Peutingeriana, and we keep our word here.”

  He led them into their building, bowed to Eleanor, and then headed to one of the large side drawing rooms. He clicked his fingers and pointed to a large central oak table. The man carrying the wooden case went to it and lay down his load, bowed to Khaled, and then left.

  Khaled immediately began spreading his rolled papers out flat. He pointed at one. “Lake Chad.”

  The first image was of the current size of the lake. Khaled flattened it with his hands. “Not a friendly area – the lake borders Niger, Nigeria, Cameroon, and of course Chad. It’s shared by all, and it’s still shrinking.” He traced the outline with a finger. “About 520 square miles and averages five feet deep.”

  He flipped another sheet over on top of the first. It was made of a clear material that showed a much larger lake overlaying the current one. “Lake Chad about 5000 years ago. It had a surface of about 100,000 square miles and an area greater than that of your Lake Superior. Its depth averaged 400 feet and dropped down to 600 in some areas.”

  “Whoa.” Matt traced it with his fingers. They’d talked about it, but seeing it graphically represented was astounding – the early lake was enormous, and he could just imagine the surrounding wetlands teeming with life, and nothing like the dry desert now circling the shrunken body of water.

  “And now…” Khaled flipped it again. “… we see what the lake looked like 35,000 years ago, and perhaps what it might have become during the biblical flood.”

  “Ho-ooly shit.” Matt shook his head. The map showed an area that was nearly all water.

  “Yes, impressive, isn’t it? Satellite photographs reveal striations that show that Lake Chad covered an area of over 400,000 square miles. It would have taken a year to sail across and it connected to the Niger River and the Atlantic.”

  Rachel blew air slowly through her lips. “If a flood did that, it would really have seemed to cover their entire world.”

  “Yes, and if it happened quickly, then if you were without a boat, you were as good as dead. You couldn’t climb a tree, and even most mountains were covered.” Khaled straightened. “And Noah had boats.”

  Matt traced the rim of the prehistoric lake. “So big, so much coastline, and so many places he could have ended up.”

  “How long was he onboard?” Rachel asked.

  “After the 40 days of rain? According to Genesis 7:24, ‘the waters prevailed upon the earth a hundred and fifty days’. So he may have drifted anywhere.” Khaled ran a hand over the prehistoric mega-lake. He looked into Matt’s eyes from under lowered brows. “And that’s why we need a place to start our search.” Khaled’s eyes twinkled.

  “Well then; let’s see what you’ve got.” Matt nodded eagerly to the still-closed wooden box.

  Khaled slid the box closer and clipped open the seals. “Give thanks to the prince. This is a rare honor that has been refused for too many people to count.”

  He lifted the lid and Matt crowded closer. Resting inside in a padded slot was a scroll on wooden rollers.

  Khaled then reached into his pocket and pulled free a pair of cotton gloves, which he quickly pulled on. Once done he carefully lifted the scroll free.

  “One minute.” Matt raced back to his room to retrieve his laptop computer, which he flipped open, and carried back to the group. He called up the images of the map image embedded in the stained glass.

  When he returned he saw that Khaled had spread a damask cloth on the table and had carefully unrolled the scroll. The intricate colors were faded, but the designs, contours and markings were all still strong.

  “Oh wow.” Matt carefully slid his laptop onto the edge of the table. “The missing segment.” He leaned over the map tracing its ancient lines. “It’s magnificent.”

  Eleanor had Greta wheel her closer, and she gripped the table with one bony hand. Her fingers caught the edge of the scroll.

  “Please, no touching,” Khaled said gently.

  Eleanor clicked her tongue in disdain.

  “He’s right.” Matt straightened. “Even our exhalations will be slightly acidic so we need to be quick.”

  “Yes, yes.” Eleanor’s lip curled. “So? What does it tell us?” Her eyes drilled into Matt’s.

  “Let’s see.” Matt switched to his computer, and slowly shrunk down the image of the map from the glass so its size corresponded to that of the Tabula Peutingeriana. Then he stood back, his gaze going from one to the other.

  “We’re looking for a piece of coastline to match our stained-glass map that looks a little like a fishhook, and with a small island in the curl. Maybe like…” He let his eyes run down the Tabula Peutingeriana’s coastal contours. “Ha, maybe, this…”

  Khaled leaned closer, his eyes going from one image to the other. “Mukawwar Island in Sudan.” His lips lifted on one side. “If this is it, then no wonder we couldn’t find it. The starting point is the Red Sea.”

  Matt nodded. “We suspected the map we found in the glass from the old church ended in Chad, but miles from where the lake is at today.” He turned and grinned at Khaled. “But of course, it would have had to be somewhere that was inundated during the great flood.”

  Matt pointed along the contours. “To the north, the Tibesti Mountains are the highest mountains in the Sahara and rise to over 10,000 feet. Also they’re volcanic and riddled with caves that many have been found to contain cave art from as far back as 12,000 years ago, and was still being added to about 5000 years ago – the period we’re interested in.”

  Matt closed his eyes for a moment, trying to remember information about the area. The details slowly leaked back. “Straight after the flood, the land would have been immensely fertile, but then climate change conspired to kill it for good. The mega flood was the last of the great waters. It got dryer and all the people left – they went north to the Middle East; forced to leave their lands and move to the Nile Valley or other areas with more water.”

  “They left everything behind?” Rachel shook her head. “Would they leave the Ark?”

  “If it is the true Ark, then maybe it was too big to move.” Khaled took a picture of the ancient map. “Professor, I’m sending you the images.”

  “Great.” Matt looked up at Rachel. “The Ark was supposed to have been mainly made from reeds and
gopher wood. I think even a few hundred years after the flood the ship would have been decaying. They probably left it behind.”

  “Never,” Eleanor said. “Something that valuable and that holy? Unconscionable. It would never have been left to rot.”

  “Or they hid it,” Rachel said.

  “It wouldn’t matter; it was made of organic material, and they didn’t have any preservation techniques back then. I’m afraid the Ark is long gone,” Matt said.

  “It matters not. The real question is: exactly what exists there now that could hold the secret to eternal life?”

  “There’s no such thing as eternal life.” Matt felt slightly sorry for her. “Eleanor, sure, there could be something that seems to be extending life, but from what we understand, it might only be some sort of parasitic or symbiotic temporary side effect. We’re not even sure if the, uh, infected people are in pain because of the affliction.”

  “Like my Clarence, you mean?” she shot back.

  “I don’t know.” Matt sighed, and looked back at the map as his computer pinged. “Got the pictures. Gonna line them up now.” Saved, he thought, and leaned into his screen.

  Matt edged the image from the Tabula Peutingeriana up against the map from the stained glass. He made the stained glass image transparent, adjusted its size, and then slid it across on top of the old map.

  “Bingo! Ladies and gentlemen, we have our starting point.” He fist pumped once, and then went back to his screen. “Looks like it starts at the coast of the Red Sea at Mukawwar Island, and the marked trail travels across what is today Sudan, enters Chad, and then ends…”

  “And then ends here.” Rachel smiled lopsidedly. “Somewhere in Chad’s jungle, something was hidden.”

  “It’s no jungle anymore. There’s nothing there,” Matt said.

  “There is, or was. It was the Garden of Eden of course.” Khaled had one eyebrow raised. “Five thousand years ago it was Akebu-Lan, in the kingdom of Bor-Nu.”

  Matt grinned. “The Fountain of Youth in the Garden of Eden?” He grinned. “Makes perfect sense to me.” He straightened. “So what now?”

  “That’s obvious, Matthew.” Eleanor’s eyes blazed. “We go there.”