The Immortality Curse: A Matt Kearns Novel 3

by Greig Beck

  Matt gripped his shoulder and ran, keeping low. In seconds, his entire upper body was slick with blood. There were no paths to follow in the twilight-lit forest, but he managed to worm and squeeze his way through bushes and vines that tried to hang on to every inch of his body. The receding sound of pursuit told him that whoever was after him was having more trouble with the dense jungle-like growth than he was with his new and improved skinny body.

  He looked at the hand that was covering the wound in his shoulder – it dripped thick, arterial blood. Shit, shit, shit. He gripped his shoulder, and turned, grimacing, and wanting to shout: you’re all fucking insane. He settled for whispering: “Idiots.”

  He always suspected that Eleanor was a bit weird, and Joshua had seemed a little out there for a while now. But Rachel was his friend. More than his friend. Or so he had thought. She’s scared, that’s all. He would be too. Matt looked up at the darkening holes in the ceiling. Already it was like early evening. Soon, it would be dark, and the thought of being trapped in this forest with the monstrous Greta creeping about with a huge knife scared the shit out of him. And then there was that weird crawling face.

  Matt shuddered. Behind him the light from the center of the forest was a little like a blue sunrise. So close, he thought.

  He had two options. Creep back and hope for a reconciliation. Which might have been possible until Greta turned up. Or he could look for support elsewhere – find Khaled. He hoped the Saudi and Captain Okembu were alive, but they’d been with Greta, and now he had his doubts.

  People around me seem to die, Rachel had inferred. He sighed. True, he thought. But somehow I don’t think I’m the threat down here.

  He’d try to track as far as he could without using his light – it’d be a beacon for anyone trying to find him. He looked again at the blue glow, hoping that would be the group’s focus for now.

  Matt stayed low and started to push through the underbrush, headed toward where he had last heard Khaled’s gunfire.

  *

  Khaled lay in the mouth of the cave. The slash at his chest had congealed, thankfully. But his head throbbed, and he thought his ankle might also be sprained. None of that worried him now.

  The Saudi lay still, watching more of the tendrils drop from the ceiling. They gently felt along his entire body, tapping, caressing, but not gripping, yet. Perhaps whatever the thing was it preferred live prey, and a corpse was of little interest.

  He tried to calm his breathing, and also tried not to look at where the thing was pushing more of itself from the ceiling. He had read somewhere that starfish actually push their stomachs outside their gut so they can start digesting food that was too big to take inside their bodies.

  His shuddered; it was growing darker, but he could still see that the thing was emerging above him like a pulsating, red sack. A single round eye popped open, looked at its surroundings, and then examined him. Another eye opened beside it, then another and another. Like a spider, Joshua had said. They had eight eyes, didn’t they?

  Khaled could have let his sanity slip, but instead he looked away and tried to think of a plan to extricate himself from under this monstrous thing.

  He eased in a huge breath, feeling the sharp jabs of pain. He’d been hurt before – he’d fallen from a horse, had trained in unarmed combat, and been knocked down many times, and he’d survived numerous assassination attempts on him and his family, by bomb, gun, knife and poison. Sometimes it was one’s will alone that made some men survive and some fall.

  Khaled tensed his muscles and using his good foot and both hands, began to ease himself backwards. He slid about an inch, then another, and felt the brittle bones of other animals crackle beneath him.

  One of the tendrils alighted on his chest and tapped for a moment before resting on the sticky blood. Khaled was revolted as the thing felt spiny against his skin, and probably had rough hairs on the long boneless arm. It reeled back up to disappear into the sack – tasting me? he guessed.

  Forgive me my prince, he thought. I have failed you.

  The tendril came back and began to move higher, stopping again, this time on the center of his chest. Did it perhaps detect the faint heartbeat there, he wondered.

  It did, found him alive, and attacked.

  The thin questing tendrils were withdrawn and the thick attack tendrils dropped down and began to encircle his limbs. He cried out, and in fear and frustration tried to scramble free, but in doing so was immediately enmeshed.

  The power of the thing was phenomenal, and as the coils tightened, the pain was unbearable.

  “Khaled!”

  Never had his name sounded so sweet.

  “Professor…” He eased his head around. “Quickly.”

  *

  Matt poked his head inside the cave and recoiled. He immediately saw the Saudi’s predicament. He had a knife but it was a lot smaller than Okembu’s, and if he attacked with that, he was more than likely to find himself trapped along with Khaled.

  “Professor.” Khaled’s voice was strained as his throat was being compressed. He turned his face to the ceiling, and it was then Matt saw the repulsive red bag starting to descend toward the stricken man. There were multiple eyes, most fixed on its potential meal, but a few also watching Matt. It was beginning to drip with either saliva or gastric juices, and Matt felt his body start to tremble as he remembered a similar horror trying to pull him into the ceiling of a cave – it wanted to drag him into that abomination.

  Matt had an urge to simply turn and run – he did. Matt sprinted to the forest, grabbed the biggest, meanest branch he could find and then turned back to the small cave. He didn’t want to pause, or stop, or even think at all about what he needed to do, as that would allow the freezing fear to creep over him. He simply charged into the cave, yelling a war cry, and smacked the branch over and over into the hanging bag, the coils, and the alien eyes.

  There was a squeal, and a splash of inky blood, and Khaled was momentarily loose. Matt grabbed his shoulders and roughly pulled him free. Matt didn’t stop until he was 20 feet from the cave, and then he collapsed. The two men lay together, both breathing hard.

  Matt felt his racing heartbeat slow to a gallop. He turned. “So, how’s your day been?”

  Khaled began to laugh, but it broke down into a painful cough. He held his neck, as he turned to Matt. “This, my friend, is one of the times in my life that I regret my religion does not allow me to drink.”

  Matt sat up, and pulled the Saudi Arab up with him. “What happened? No, forget that, I’ve already run into Greta. Where’s Captain Okembu?”

  “Greta, yes, she attacked us; killed Captain Okembu before we even knew what she was up to. Then tried to do the same to me. I fell into the grabber’s cave, and I think she assumed that the creature would do the work for her – and it would have if you hadn’t found me.” He squeezed his eyes shut and ran both hands up through sweat-slicked hair. He looked up. “And you?”

  Matt seemed to think for a moment. “She, Greta, came out of nowhere and attacked. I got the feeling she was under orders – Eleanor’s.”

  “And the others?” Khaled asked.

  “I don’t know.” He looked away. “They seem to be all working together. I ran, left them.” He sighed. He was worried about Rachel now.

  Khaled stared. “And, did you find it? The wellspring?”

  Matt felt the strength of his gaze and looked into the man’s dark eyes. “No, but we were close to something. The others are probably there by now.”

  Khaled reached forward to rub his ankle.

  “How is it?” Matt asked. “Can you walk?”

  Khaled nodded. “Not broken, I think, but badly sprained. It will hurt like the devil, but I will walk on it.” He turned and grinned. “And if we come face to face with Greta, I’ll damn well run on it.”

  Matt tilted his head back to laugh, and then stood. He held out a hand. Khaled gripped it and got unsteadily to his feet, hopped for a moment, as he tested it. Satis
fied, he put more weight on it, but still had a hand on Matt’s shoulder.

  “What now?” he asked.

  Matt looked back to the glow from the center of the jungle. “We do what we set out to do – get some answers.”

  *

  “Let him go!” Rachel tensed her shoulders.

  The tall woman froze, but kept facing the jungle where Matt had disappeared.

  “Greta.” Eleanor smiled through her words. “Leave him now, that’s a good girl.”

  “You stabbed him.” Joshua seemed in shock. “He’ll bleed to death.”

  “You know that’s not true. You know he’ll be fine… better than fine, and in no time at all.” Eleanor’s eyes slid to the scientist. “You want that too, don’t you?”

  Joshua turned to her and stared for several seconds, before his head stared to bob. “Maybe.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you people?” Rachel suddenly didn’t recognize the group. “He was our friend.”

  Greta turned from the rapidly darkening wall of the forest to face Rachel. She squared her shoulders, straightening and towering over the FBI woman.

  Rachel turned side-on and held her gun loosely in her hand. She stared at the woman from under lowered brows. She’d been in standoffs before – the first few moments were key to working out the power dynamics.

  Greta’s eyes were like glass, empty windows to a vacant soul. Her formidable jaw was set. Rachel held the woman’s gaze.

  “Who the fuck said you could attack anyone? And where are Khaled and Captain Okembu?” Rachel continued to grip the gun, hard.

  “Greta knows to protect me,” Eleanor said evenly. “She probably thought I was being attacked.”

  “By Professor Kearns?” Rachel’s eyes went from Eleanor back to Greta. “And where’s the rest of your team?”

  “They got separated, of course,” Eleanor’s tone was amused.

  “And?” Rachel kept her eyes on Greta, liking both the women less by the second. “Did you find a way out?”

  “No,” Greta said, placing the large knife back in its scabbard. She went to kneel by Eleanor.

  “Hey, I’m still talking to you.” Rachel raised the gun. “I haven’t finished with you yet.”

  “Don’t antagonize her, Agent Bromilow. I think you might end up biting off more than you can chew.” Eleanor grinned.

  Rachel shook her head, as she examined the hulking woman. “Who the fuck is she? What the fuck is she?”

  Eleanor stroked Greta’s short and wiry gray hair. “I already told you; I adopted her in East Germany in the sixties.” She smiled down at the adoring woman. “She was one of their test subjects for their performance-enhancing drugs regime – State Plan 14.25 they called it. She could have been a champion hammer thrower, weightlifter, or anything she wanted. But they rejected her, just because she had a few psychological… imbalances.”

  She turned to Rachel. “Where they saw a potential monster, I saw a potential friend.”

  “She needs to answer some questions, right now.” Rachel’s teeth were bared.

  “You’re not the authority here, Agent Bromilow,” Eleanor said with a note of boredom in her voice. “Besides, you’re not going to shoot anyone.” She whispered to Greta, and then climbed once again onto the woman’s back like some sort of baby simian. “Now, I suggest we push on, and see what it is just above this rise.”

  “I’m ready,” Joshua said, turning away.

  “What?” Rachel let her arms drop to her sides. “Are you shitting me, Joshua? Khaled and Okembu are missing. And this, woman, comes back to us and immediately stabs Professor Kearns. And you’re okay with that?”

  “I have no reason to doubt her.” He shrugged. “And you know there was something weird about Kearns. I didn’t trust him, and I saw that you didn’t either.”

  “That doesn’t mean we should abandon him,” Rachel said firmly. She chanced a look at the foliage, wondering how far away Matt could be.

  “Well, you won’t find him blundering off into the jungle,” said Eleanor. “If he’s got any brains, he’ll find his own way to the pool and meet us there. He wants to see it as much as we do.”

  “Rachel could feel the muscles in her jaw begin to twitch, and she went to raise the gun again.

  “Oh, put it away, dear.” Eleanor’s eyes twinkled as she motioned up the hill. “If you want to wander off and get killed by yourself, be my guest. Doctor, shall we?”

  Greta still eyed her with cold amusement. Rachel had been an agent for over eight years and had seen some fucked up stuff in her life. But right now, she’d take any of that over having this woman behind her. She held out an arm.

  “After you.”

  Eleanor faked a smile. “Joshua, you get to take the lead, dear boy. You’ve got a promotion.”

  Joshua snorted, and turned to clamber up the steep incline.

  Greta gave Rachel one more glance before climbing as well. Greta gripped a hanging branch and pulled both herself and Eleanor up onto some rocks.

  They were about 20 feet from a higher ledge with the glow emanating from its top. For now, it was still hidden behind a dense stand of thick tees, but would only take them a few minutes to reach.

  Joshua almost ran up the slope before stopping and turning.

  “In here.”

  He only waited a second or two more, before spinning and pushing through the trees. Greta, with Eleanor van Helling still clinging to her back, barged in after him, and Rachel followed, easing herself in.

  The trees had grown up to form a canopy over the top of a glowing sapphire-colored pool of water. Rachel stopped and stared – it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. The pool was a long oval shape about a hundred feet in length and so clear it was hard to tell if it was inches or dozens of feet deep. The ghost of a mist lifted from its surface and Rachel could feel its warmth against her cheeks.

  She took a few more steps closer and stood by a chest-high pile of rocks that was one of many that were stacked or tumbled every dozen feet or so.

  Joshua pointed. “More writing.” There was a dark obelisk at one end of the pool with more of the Chaldaic script on its face. “I can’t read it.” He gave them a lopsided grin. “Where’s Matt Kearns when you need him, huh?”

  He reached up to grab at a tree branch, examining the leaves. “These are different to the others in the forest. And their roots are actually feeding from the water.”

  “Of course they are.” Eleanor cackled. “Do either of you even know what type of wood Noah built his Ark from?”

  Joshua shook his head slowly. “Nope, can’t say I ever gave it too much thought. No wait, actually, zero thought.”

  “Idiot.” She grinned as she looked at the trees surrounding the pool.

  “Gopher,” Rachel said softly. “Matt told us.”

  “The old woman’s eyes moved to Rachel standing slightly apart from them. “Yes, gopher wood.”

  Eleanor’s eyes narrowed. “In Genesis 6:14, it says that Noah was to build the Ark from gopher wood. But it’s a word for a type of wood not known around the time of the Bible or even in biblical Hebrew. However, there is an expression in ancient Babylonian of “gushure is erini”, which translates to cedar-beams.”

  Rachel frowned. “You suddenly seem to know a lot about the Ark, Mrs. van Helling.”

  “There’re no cedar forests growing in Africa, and hasn’t been for thousands of years.” She laughed hoarsely. “But there are stories of it growing in great forests after the flood. The African Cedar – Juniperus procera – was a tall tree with berry-like cones that were blue-black, like giant fruits.” She looked up at the trees. “Just like these.”

  “I see. And these are the last remnants of those ancient cedar forests. The seeds perhaps washed down here in the floods.” Joshua followed her gaze.

  “No, something far more fantastic than that.” She whispered in Greta’s ear, and the big woman helped Eleanor slide from her back.

  “The Ark was cedar.
It came to rest, here.” She looked up at the ceiling. “If we could see the roof, I think we might find it was man-made, constructed over this vast cavern.”

  “Just like the monastery Khaled told us about.” Rachel looked up, but saw nothing but a starless black.

  “As the Ark settled in its secret place around 4500 years ago, and the waters drained away, the last of the holy flood lay in its belly. Its mighty cedar beams took root – they lived again.” She grinned, her eyes wide and fixed on the water. “You want to know what happened to the Ark?” She waved a hand over the pool. “Here it is.”

  Rachel turned, looking again at the shape of the pond and the surrounding wall of trees. If you squinted, you could see that the pond was long and hull shaped and the stand of trees could even be imagined as the ribbing of the gunwale of a large ship.

  “This is the Ark?” Joshua scoffed.

  “This entire place is the Ark. Its lifegiving force exploded into all this.” The old woman closed her eyes, hugging herself. “And when God’s wrathful waters receded, the last of them shall be a well of tears he has wept for the dead. And in its depths, there will be no more death.”

  Eleanor opened her eyes. “Do you know what that is from?” She giggled softly. “My dear sweet, stupid Clarence; he sent me that translation 75 years ago just before he disappeared. The only worthwhile thing he ever did.” Her face grew hard. “He was supposed to send for me.”

  Joshua crossed to the pool edge and knelt. He quickly searched pouches and pockets until he found an empty vial and equipment. He uncapped the vial, scooped some of the water and lifted it. In his other hand he held a magnifying glass to his eye.

  “Yes.” He nodded and grinned. “Yes, they’re there, I can see them, almost invisible. They look like glass fibers, but they’re there.”

  “Good.” Eleanor turned to her big companion. “Help me now one last time, my faithful Greta.”

  The huge woman picked her up like an infant and walked with her to the edge of the water.