The Immortality Curse: A Matt Kearns Novel 3

by Greig Beck

  He looked up at them from under lowered brows. “Like sin, be careful that what you desire most doesn’t end up consuming you.” He brought the liquid to his lips and drank. “Once you have partaken of the water, you must continue to take it.” His eyes went momentarily to Matt, and he nodded.

  “Lecture’s over.” Eleanor lifted her gun and fired twice.

  Whether or not the bullets struck was unknown, as Noah vanished into the thick foliage like smoke.

  Khaled crouched, and then lay flat. Matt pulled Rachel down as Eleanor fired into the foliage.

  “Stop it, you fool,” Matt yelled and climbed on top of Rachel, who batted him away.

  “Get off me,” Rachel said, who probably thought she was better able to protect them then he was.

  Eleanor turned toward Matt, pointing, her teeth bared. “Greta, cut his head off – there’s not room for two of us.” She then turned back to keep her eyes on the foliage trying to find Noah.

  Greta faced Matt, her jaw set. Khaled went after Eleanor, but she snapped the gun around and fired, forcing Khaled to dive into the bushes.

  Matt slowly got to his feet and watched as the huge woman’s brawny forearm bulged as she regripped the long blade. Beside him, Rachel also got to her feet, pushed Matt behind her and then got into a combat stance, knees bent, and up on her toes.

  Greta came in fast, and Rachel kicked out with a lunge kick to the woman’s mid-section. But with the rushing mass of the larger woman, it only succeeded in forcing Rachel back and off balance.

  Rachel straightened and came again, this time using a looping right cross to the woman’s chin. Greta put her head down quickly, taking Rachel’s fist to her forehead. Matt heard bones crunch, and Rachel grunted in pain.

  Greta then swung an arm with a bicep like a Christmas ham that caught Rachel across the temple and batted her away like she weighed nothing. The FBI agent flew back into the bushes, collided with a tree trunk and lay still.

  Greta then pulled out her knife again, and turned to face Matt. Obviously saving the blade for me, he thought, relieved that she didn’t use it on Rachel. He held his hands out before him, and stepped back.

  “Just wait a minute, Greta.” He kept backpeddling, hands still waving in front of him. He glanced quickly over his shoulder at the foliage, contemplating another dash into its green cover.

  There was sudden rush of movement, as Khaled charged from the brush and brought a thick branch down across the huge woman’s neck and shoulders. There was a grunt and Greta went to her knees.

  “Yes!” Matt gritted his teeth, fist balled.

  Khaled yelled and swung again, this time the branch splintering against the back of Greta’s head. The iron-gray curls masked her face, but slowly she lifted her head. Khaled shifted the branch in his hands. The Saudi’s eyes blazed, his fury unbound as he took his revenge on the murderous woman.

  Matt watched as Khaled raised the remains of the club high above his head. It was then he saw Greta’s face, the mouth twisted in a smirk.

  “Look ou…”

  Matt had barely yelled the words, when Khaled’s club swung down with all his might, but faster than he could have possibly anticipated; Greta shot an arm up and caught it in her fist. Her other hand moved in a blur, sinking the long silver blade deep into the Saudi’s chest.

  Khaled looked shocked for a moment, his eyes wide and surprised.

  “No-ooo!” Matt howled in anguish. Greta grinned, and then rapidly pulled the blade free to immediately sink it in again. Khaled’s face went slack, and he fell back like a small tree. He was dead before he hit the ground.

  Matt faced her, his fists balled. “You bitch.” He knew he was no fighter, but never before in his life had he wanted to kill someone so badly.

  Greta grinned. Blood had splashed her face, running into her mouth and also coating her teeth. Combined with her dead eyes, she was a vision straight from hell as she came quickly at Matt.

  “Shit.” Matt quickly picked up the remains of Khaled’s branch and held it two-handed out in front of him like a gate – he’d seen the lack of effect it had on her before, so knew he needed to out-think her rather than out-fight her.

  Matt then caught sight of his own arms – they were stick-like, with barely any meat left on the bones. His clothing sagged and nearly fell from his body he was so thin. It was the worms, he knew that for sure now, and knew that they’d continue to consume him until he was a living skeleton, only animated by the revolting parasitic life inside him.

  Behind them Eleanor looked exasperated. “Just cut his fucking head off.” She screamed, the brutal words at odds with her angelic face.

  Greta squared her shoulders.

  “You can’t kill me, you know.” He held the log before him.

  Greta looked from Matt to Joshua’s head, and then back and into his eyes. Her mouth twisted in a familiar smirk; he got the message – of course she could.

  The big woman adjusted her grip on the knife, and then began to advance. Matt held the log up and tried to picture her next steps and how he would respond – he bet she would come fast, giving him two options: block-swing-fight or throw-turn-run.

  Fuck it, he knew he’d have to stay. Rachel was as good as dead if he left.

  “Ha!” He feinted with the log, but all Greta did was lower her brow and start to accelerate. Matt backpeddled, but caught an ankle and fell back, slamming against one of the chest-high stacks of rock.

  It moved.

  He sat on the ground and watched it all through Greta’s changing expressions – confusion, switched to recognition, and then her broad, cruel features twisted into something he had never seen on her face – fear.

  Matt chanced a look over his shoulder and saw the hulking mass rise up. The pile of rocks unfolded, reassembled itself into the massive creature he had seen at the church and that had snatched Saeeb into the pit. Massive yellow orbs blinked open.

  It was a Nephilim, a Fallen One, the giants sent to be sentinels until the end of time. One tree trunk thick leg thumped down in front of Matt, and it reached forward a hand that closed over one half of Greta’s torso. Unbelievably, she fought on, stabbing down with her knife, but whatever the creature was made off, the blade could not hope to penetrate the skin.

  Greta began to be lifted from her feet, and the creature stared with its huge dispassionate yellow eyes into her face for a second or two, before its hand closed. Matt grimaced and narrowed his eyes as he heard bones and cartilage compress and snap like bundles of twigs. Greta’s scream turned into a wet gurgle, and her body flopped sideways over the compressed frame. The Nephilim dropped her, but then stamped down hard on her head.

  “Greta!” Eleanor’s scream was barely heard as the giant turned to Matt. He held up a hand to ward it off, and its huge yellow pupilless eyes stared deep into him.

  Words, in Chaldaic, floated over them. Noah had reappeared, and the creature turned to the man, and then instead of attacking Matt, it stepped over him, bent and then folded itself back down until it looked once again like nothing more than a pile of dark rock.

  Eleanor’s scream had turned into a furious howl, and she held Rachel’s gun in two hands as she closed in on Noah. She began to fire, teeth bared and luminous blue eyes blazing.

  Bullets smacked into his chest, and he opened his arms wide.

  “Those who take, have everything taken.”

  She continued to fire until the gun clicked on an empty chamber. Noah lowered his brow, his lips moving. Matt heard the Chaldaic words again, tumbling over each other. They were ancient words, forceful and commanding, and spoken in their native form in the way they were meant to be.

  Matt concentrated on understanding him; he was calling, no, commanding, but not Eleanor, he was calling to something else. He now repeated one line over and over: back to the water.

  Eleanor’s beautiful features were a mask of strain. Sweat broke out on her brow, glistening like tiny diamonds, and her body started to tremble. After another few
seconds one of her legs began to move, then the other. She ground her teeth, looking like she was trying to stop them. Eventually she began to turn and walk robotically toward the glowing pool.

  Noah continued to chant in Chaldaic, his words deep and hypnotic: back to the water, back to the water, back to the water.

  Eleanor came to the pool’s edge and crushed her eyes shut. A small noise escaped from between her clamped teeth as she fought against her own body. It made no difference; she stepped in.

  “Those who take, have everything taken,” Noah said softly. His face was furrowed by a look of deep sadness.

  Matt stared, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. In the water now, Eleanor seemed to shrink. Her magnificent high cheekbones became softer, plumper, and her jawline receded. Her eyes seemed to grow bigger in a round face. Whereas seconds before she had been tall and long of limb, now she had shrunk in her clothing, smaller and smaller.

  Eleanor began to cry, holding up her hands, wailing at each of the tiny fingers. She looked no more than eight years old, then six, then four, and on until she was nothing but a tiny bald baby, floating on the pile of clothing, and then that too disappeared.

  Matt could imagine the magic of the first cell division of life working in reverse, until perhaps there was nothing but a glistening egg and a single sperm. And then even the clothing dissolved, as the water hissed and boiled around the small floating island for another moment.

  Matt got slowly to his feet. He had to use a hand to hold his trousers up, as there was no meat on his bones anymore.

  Noah continued to watch the pool as it settled back to blue crystal tranquility. “I have a story to tell you, Professor Matthew Kearns. And then I have a request.” He went and dipped his hand in, cupping some of the liquid.

  “This is so unreal.” Matt went and crouched by Rachel, brushing dirt from her forehead. She moaned.

  “You know it’s real.” Noah turned and crossed to Matt. “Here, drink.”

  Matt recoiled, but every fiber of his being knew he had to do it. He leaned forward, not able to control his own limbs, and his large head felt heavy on his thin neck. He sipped the water and almost immediately felt an explosion in his stomach that went to his chest and then head. Like magic his skin inflated, turning a healthy pink hue.

  Matt sat back, blinking, feeling better than he had ever before in his life. He stared at the holy man.

  “I’m sure I’ve seen you before.”

  “Perhaps.” Noah lifted Greta’s body and dragged it to the water, tossing it in. He did the same with Khaled and Joshua. The luminescent pool fizzed and bubbled around the corpses for a moment, before it cleared.

  “What the hell is in there?” Matt felt his chest, fearing the worst. “It’s in me too now, isn’t it?”

  “Not from hell, Matthew,” Noah sighed, crossed to him and sat down on the ground.

  Matt cradled Rachel who moaned again. A huge purple egg lumped her forehead. He lifted her head, but she still didn’t open her eyes.

  “She’ll be fine,” Noah said. He looked back to the pool, once again magnificently clear, luminescent blue and inviting.

  “This is all that remains of my once mighty Ark. Its keel, its powerful beams, and all its saved creatures.” He waved an arm around. “This is where we came.” He looked up. “This is where we sought shelter after the great waters receded. The last of God’s great flood, pooled in the base of the Ark.”

  “But there were others,” Matt said. “The priest in Canada, Father Xavier, and all those other names that he went under – it was the same man wasn’t it? He was here?”

  “Yes, of course, and you’re right, hundreds of names in hundreds of places before that. “ He sighed again. “But as you suspected, all the same man.” He looked up at Matt, his eyes sad. “And not just a priest, it was my second son, Japheth.”

  “Murdered,” Matt said. “By Clarence van Helling.”

  Noah turned, looking a little bewildered. “I don’t know why. I sent Clarence and one other, with a message for my son. Something went wrong.”

  “Very wrong. They cut his head off, destroyed everything.” Matt said, and then paused. “One other?”

  Noah nodded “George Bass, an explorer who went missing in 1803, and was brought to us here. I sent him to accompany Clarence.” He nodded. “They took some of the water with them – enough to make it back across the water to Japheth, deliver the message, and then return.”

  “And instead, Clarence killed him and destroyed everything.” Matt couldn’t understand it, and clearly Noah didn’t either.

  Noah’s mouth lifted in a crooked smile. “Japheth never wanted to stay here. Even as a boy he was strong headed and rebellious.” He looked up. “And one who often walked among you, unnoticed.”

  Matt thought about the idea of these immortals walking among them; it unsettled him. “And on the mountain top in Turkey – another son, Shem?”

  “Yes.” Noah’s eyes seemed to lose more light. “Shem. Not as strong as Japheth. After so long, he grew weary, and decided on the eternal sleep. I always hoped he would one day regain his spirit, but…” He looked at Matt. “All gone now – my sons, their wives, my descendents spread far and wide, and not knowing who they really are.” He drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “There is only my loving wife, Emzara, and me left of the riders in the Ark. I knew it would happen one day.” A line appeared between his brows. “That is why I try and gather good and strong souls like you to help me.”

  “But who killed…” Matt studied the still youthful-looking face of a man supposed to be 4500 years old. “… Clarence, and the two families in Canada? And where is George Bass?”

  Noah’s eye’s narrowed. “Mr Bass is missing. But he must return soon if the water stored in the church is destroyed. If not, he may be consumed.”

  Matt shuddered. Noah seemed to think for a moment or two. “Poor Clarence.” He looked up. “But I thought it was the police who killed him. That is why your FBI became involved.”

  “No.” Matt said. “The Borgia.” Matt’s eyes narrowed. “They do your bidding, don’t they?”

  Noah shook his head, frowning deeply. “The Borgia, the Bruttians, the Meshans, and many other groups that remain hidden. But they would never do this. Ever. And yes, they follow orders, mine, and once Shem’s and Japheths, to keep us safe here.”

  “But they could do it, if you or someone ordered them to?” Matt’s voice took on an edge. They’re killers. They even attacked us at Prince Najif’s compound.”

  Noah straightened. “If they were so ordered, but that order would never be given. In fact their age-old role was coming to an end and the reason I called Japheth back.”

  He clasped his large hands together. “Since we first found we had been given the gift of immortality, we decided to keep it secret. We had already seen such evil over the ages, and imagined a world where the likes of Caligula, Genghis Khan or Adolf Hitler lived for a thousand years. We knew there would be nothing left of the goodness of man.”

  “I don’t think we’re all bad.” Matt leaned his forearms on his knees. “Conversely, imagine a world where people like Abraham Lincoln, Gandhi or Martin Luther King lived forever. I’m not necessarily a supporter of the concept of living forever, but think of the good that would come of that.”

  “Yes, this is what I came to believe as well.” Noah reached out a hand and gripped Matt’s shoulder. “I too think good would win out, and the others here finally agreed.”

  “What? You wanted everyone to be immortal?” Matt gaped.

  “Yes, for as long as they wanted it.” Noah said. “Like you said, think of the good things mankind could accomplish – short-term thinking would be eradicated, wars would be futile, good works would never have to end.”

  Matt frowned as his mind worked. “But if you lived forever, you would have seen everything, done everything; boredom would drive you insane.”

  Noah opened his arms wide. “Then you could visit the s
tars.”

  Matt shook his head. “Crime and punishment would be meaningless. If good works could live forever, then like you just suggested, so too could the wrong ones. It might create an everlasting hell on Earth.”

  Noah smiled. “The gift could be withheld from those that debase it. Or taken from them – remember, we are immortal, not invulnerable.”

  “I know.” Matt pulled in a cheek. “But then who decides who is worthy, and who is not – you?”

  “All I’m saying is we would still need laws, Matthew.” Noah’s smiled broadened. “Your wisdom is exactly how I imagined it.” Noah gripped Matt’s forearm and shook it. “This is exactly why I need you. I’ve been following you, looking over you for years. You know evil, Matthew. You have fought it before in many of its forms. You have courage, intelligence and honor. You have what we need, to show all of them what we can achieve.”

  “So you infected me to recruit me?” Matt lifted his hand to look at the fingers. He flexed them – the ones that were broken only hours before, now all strong. “In New York – I survived the bomb attack. I remember someone… after. Was it you?”

  “It’s why you survived the attack… all the attacks. I chose to have you saved. It’s why you have been dreaming of this place, seeing what I see. The waters now connect you with here, and with me. It is a gift, Matthew.”

  “And if I don’t keep drinking the water from the fountain, then the worms will consume me.” Matt sat down, and held his head for a moment. “This is no gift; it’s an addiction, no, a curse – an immortality curse. And now I’m doomed to remain here as well?”

  “Would it be so bad?” Noah waved an arm out at the lush growth surrounding them. A colored bird alighted in the foliage of a tree, to cock its head and peer at them from one eye for a moment, before squawking its displeasure, and then flitting away.

  “This is my home, my paradise, and my Garden of Eden. The world outside is tearing itself down and decaying from within. It needs to be steered in the right direction. You can help, or sit back and watch it destroy itself, and everything you love with it.”