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Chaos

Page 30

by David Meyer


  His face tightened and he lifted his gun.

  I yanked my pinned arm as hard as I could. The bedrock scraped off a layer of flesh as I dragged the limb partway out from under the Bell. But once my wrist reached the lip, I couldn’t move it any farther.

  Chase pointed the gun at my head.

  I looked at the alligator. It raced at me, its damaged jaw hanging open in grotesque fashion.

  It was close, almost within striking distance of my head.

  Why don’t you go after someone else for a change, you asshole?

  I grabbed my machete with my free hand. In one smooth movement, I sliced it at the alligator.

  It flinched.

  Diverted slightly, the beast plowed into the Bell, bashing its head into the metal surface.

  The particle accelerator wobbled. An ear-splitting noise filled the area. The ground shifted under my body. The bedrock surface splintered.

  Abruptly, it disintegrated beneath me.

  Then, the huge Bell was gone along with the gator, both swallowed up by the yawning chasm.

  Chase blinked, overcome by shock. Shaking his head, he pointed the gun at me again. Vaguely, I saw Beverly closing in on him. But she’d never make it in time.

  I realized that my newly freed hand still clutched a handful of Red Mercury and broken glass. I launched it at Chase. The dust flew upward. Recoiling in fear, he backpedaled toward the hole.

  He fell.

  “Cyclone!” His scream echoed in the collapsing space.

  And then he was gone, swallowed up by the chasm.

  Chapter 65

  Chase was dead.

  The alligators were dead.

  The Red Mercury was dissipated, the Bell and Hartek’s journal lost in the chasm.

  I felt a measure of grim satisfaction as the ground rumbled beneath me. I was bound to die, but at least I’d done some good first. Maybe eternal slumber wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

  Get up, idiot. You’re not dying today.

  With a loud groan, I rolled toward my injured arm. But it protested, sending shooting pain down my side.

  I flopped onto my back again and stared at the ceiling. The blackish, jagged bedrock shuddered and heaved uncontrollably. It looked ready to collapse at any second.

  Small hands grasped hold of my shoulders and lifted me into a sitting position. Then, they propelled me upward.

  “If we ever get out of here, promise me you’ll lose some weight.”

  I looked over my shoulder. Beverly stared back at me, her face a mixture of mirth and tension. “It’s not me that’s the problem,” I joked. “It’s all these damn muscles.”

  As I gained my footing, she pushed me against the wall for added support. Small chunks of rock crumbled away at my touch, falling all around me, leaving trails of dust in their wake.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  I looked around. The war had ceased. Several gators lay on the ground, still and lifeless. Bloodied bodies were heaped about the bedrock. The sight of so much death took my breath away.

  “Where’s everyone?” I asked.

  “You’re looking at most of them. Some died, others ran for it.”

  “What about Diane? Is she okay?”

  To my surprise, her face twisted. For a split-second, I detected disappointment in her eyes. Then, in an instant, it vanished. “She’s fine. So am I by the way.”

  “I didn’t mean –”

  “She’s wounded pretty badly. If we’re going to save her life, we need to get her to a hospital now.”

  I nodded at the bodies. “It looks like we’re missing someone. What happened to Standish?”

  “I’m right here.”

  I followed the voice. Standish stood at the mouth of the tube, leaning against one side of it. His face was directed at the chasm and I thought I saw a wistful look in his eyes.

  I stepped toward him. He slid into the center of the tube, blocking my path.

  “Get out of the way.”

  “That’s not happening,” he replied.

  “We don’t have to die here.”

  “Yes we do.”

  I glared at him. He was a large, powerful man. But I saw none of that. All I saw was a man who’d helped to kill Jenson and Cartwright. A man who wanted to kill me.

  If he succeeded, he’d surely murder Diane and Beverly as well. I’d spent the last three years regretting my inability to save others. Three years of inner pain.

  Three years of an endless nightmare.

  I leapt at him. He socked me in the jaw and I flew back into the grotto. I landed on my back and skidded a few feet along the bedrock. Beverly reached for him, but he shoved her aside with ease. Then he ran at me.

  I saw my machete lying on the ground. Picking it up, I rose to my feet. But before I could swing it, Standish’s body crunched into my chest.

  As he propelled me backward, I looked over my shoulder. The chasm was just a few feet away. In mere seconds, the ground would disappear and both of us would tumble to our doom.

  With a savage cry, I slashed the machete through the air, implanting it several inches into a gap in the crumbling bedrock wall. As Standish pushed me farther, my feet left the ground. A wall of water slammed into me and then, I was dangling over the chasm, utterly engulfed by the raging waterfall.

  My body hurt like hell but I hung on anyway. Through the torrent, I saw Beverly running toward me. Diane limped along behind her.

  I felt heavy. Glancing down, I saw Standish holding onto my waist. He looked up, staring at me with insanity in his eyes. “Let go, damn you,” he shouted. “Let go!”

  He wrenched his body. His fingers clawed at me. My right hand loosened then slipped off the handle. My left fingers began to weaken.

  I was seconds away from death.

  My gaze hardened. I pulled back my right arm and swung.

  I swung with every ounce of passion I could muster. I swung for the colony. I swung for the Sand Demons.

  I swung for myself.

  My fist smashed into his jaw. His head flew backward. He lost his grip. As I watched, he tumbled end over end into the bottomless chasm.

  My body sagged with relief.

  Suddenly, the machete moved. I turned toward the wall.

  It moved again.

  Reaching up, I scrabbled for a grip. But the onrushing water thwarted my efforts.

  Fingers enclosed around my waist. They were smaller than Standish’s, yet larger in number. I felt myself dragged away from the chasm, the machete still stuck in my left hand.

  I fell to the ground. My eyes focused and I saw Beverly and Diane leaning over me.

  Diane shook her head. “Can’t you do anything the easy way?”

  Her tone was filled with annoyance, but I saw the smile etched across her face.

  I grinned. “That’s just not my style.”

  With their help, I rose to my feet. As I retrieved my pistol, I heard loud shuddering noises. Then a large bedrock slab broke off from the ceiling and crashed onto the ground.

  As if on cue, the western wall burst into pieces, sending hundreds of pounds of rock hurtling into the grotto. It seemed to start a chain reaction and the entire area along with the tube began to implode.

  Beverly shot me a look. “I guess we wore out our welcome.”

  “I think that happened a few hours ago.”

  She took off running. I pushed Diane in front of me and then raced after them, driven by the sound of crashing rock.

  In a few minutes, we reached the intersection leading to the main subway system. As I darted into the connecting tunnel, I stole one last glance over my shoulder. The entire collection of tubes was rapidly vanishing under a mountain of broken bedrock. Memories of the last few days flashed through my brain, but one face stayed prominent. It was a face that belonged to a man I’d never met. And yet, I felt like I knew him all the same.

  “Sorry, Alfred,” I said quietly. “You built one hell of a subw
ay system.”

  EPILOGUE

  HARTEK’S CACHE

  September 15

  “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

  Diane narrowed her eyes. “I should be asking you that question. You’re the one with his arm in a sling.”

  I walked to the edge of the platform. It was well after midnight. Other than a few college kids, the area was empty.

  I stopped next to the wall and waited for Diane to join me. After nearly a week in the hospital, she looked like a whole new woman. Her face exhibited a rosy complexion and the spark in her eyes had returned with a vengeance.

  After she joined me, I looked both ways and then hopped down to the tracks. Setting a course due south, I led her down the Lexington Avenue Line.

  The track bed was dry. And thanks to Chase’s unexplained disappearance, temporary control over the MTA had fallen into new hands. Those new hands saw fit to settle affairs with the labor unions. It was just a temporary settlement of course. As Chase’s memory faded into oblivion, I had no doubt that negotiations and conflicts would begin anew.

  But for the time being, the lockout was over. And that meant a return to normalcy of a sort. Subway trains flew through the tunnels on a semi-regular basis. City traffic decreased to pre-lockout levels. Foot traffic also declined as large numbers of people stopped walking to work and instead, returned to the relative comfort and speed of the subway system.

  Even the rain finally came to an end.

  Of course, there was still the small matter of the recent earthquake. Just a few days earlier, a rash of buildings, primarily situated in the midtown area, experienced strange ground shifts. It was nothing serious of course, since steel pilings supported the buildings in that area. Engineers and architects were investigating the phenomenon but so far, hadn’t announced an explanation.

  I wasn’t worried. It would take a lot of digging to unearth Beach’s tubes, even more to excavate the Bell. And I doubted that would happen anytime soon.

  “So, you couldn’t get in touch with Beverly huh?”

  I shook my head. “Nope.”

  “She just left?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Strange. Very strange.”

  Agreed. Where are you, Beverly?

  After escaping Beach’s subway system, she’d vanished. I never even saw her leave. One minute she stood right next to me.

  The next minute, she was gone.

  While Diane recovered in the hospital, I searched the entire island of Manhattan for her. I even staked out ShadowFire’s headquarters. But I never found her.

  Although she never mentioned it, I knew the reason for her disappearance. I saw it in her stormy violet eyes back in the tunnels.

  She knew I had feelings for Diane, feelings that were too complicated to dismiss. But what she didn’t realize was that my feelings for her were just as strong and just as complicated.

  Diane was beautiful, loyal, accomplished, graceful, and driven. She lived her life by a firm moral code, which I begrudgingly admired. She was everything the archaeologist in me desired in a lady.

  Beverly was similar in many ways, yet different in so many others. She was sexy as all hell, endowed with a daredevil’s spirit, and mysterious to boot. Coupled with her unbridled passion, she was everything the treasure hunter inside of me wanted in a woman.

  How do you choose between two sides of yourself?

  As I turned to follow the 42nd Street Shuttle’s non-pedestrian track, I peeked over my shoulder. Diane flashed me a winning smile. She was so much. But was she enough? Would anything ever be enough to satisfy my conflicting personas? Or was I doomed to walk the earth alone, always caught between two worlds, part of both, but belonging to neither?

  I stopped in the middle of the tunnel. I heard clanging machinery and hissing pipes. But there were no signs of life.

  I looked at the smooth, slightly discolored wall. It was closed, revealing no sign of the hidden door.

  Diane halted next to me. “I don’t see anything.”

  “You will in a minute,” I replied. “Chase must’ve covered up Hartek’s laboratory after he realized that the Bell wasn’t inside.”

  I hoisted myself onto the concrete ledge and walked across it until I reached a crack. On the other side, the surface changed. It looked newer and thicker than the rest of the ledge.

  Kneeling down, I felt along the wall. My fingers brushed up against the etching of a skull and two crossed pickaxes. Placing my thumb against the symbol, I pushed.

  The button depressed. I heard a click and the ground started to rumble. I grabbed onto the wall as the ledge shifted inward, revealing the hidden corridor.

  Taking out my flashlight, I slid into the space. I held my breath, preparing myself for the stench of death.

  Instead, I was greeted with a strong odor of disinfectant. Surprised, I shone my light around in all directions. The bodies were gone as were most of the lab’s materials. The room was now empty, save for some scattered bricks in the corner.

  I grunted in disappointment. “Well, if there was anything here, it’s gone now.”

  “What were you hoping to find?”

  “Gold. Nazi gold. According to Chase, Karl Hartek was entrusted with a supply of gold bars from ODESSA. I figured we might find them here.”

  “Always the treasure hunter.” She shook her head but there was a small smile on her face. Then, her expression changed to one of puzzlement. “Why did you think it would be in here?”

  “Something Jenson said to me before he died. He said, ‘Don’t forget the gold…it’s the foundation…the foundation of Hartek’s…”

  “Hartek’s what?”

  I shrugged. “I thought I’d find the answer in here.”

  “Did he use gold in the Bell?”

  I nodded. “Its fuel consisted of a liquid formulation of gold and mercury. When the Sand Demons captured the Bell, they found a supply of the stuff, which they used to refuel it over the years.”

  “So maybe that’s all he meant.” She gave me a thoughtful look. “Maybe he was just trying to tell you that the gold was used as fuel, or if you will, the foundation of the Bell.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  I replayed the conversation over and over in my mind. His wording struck me as rather strange. Why would he use the term foundation?

  Unless…

  Swiveling to the side, I saw a small pile in the northwest corner of the room. I marched over and knelt down. My flashlight illuminated a couple of bricks, sending brilliant rays of light cascading in a million directions. I shielded my eyes and leaned in close.

  My heart began to race. “These aren’t ordinary bricks.”

  I picked up one of them. It weighed a ton. Brushing off the powdery surface, I saw a picture of a bird perched atop a wreath that held the Nazi symbol. Silently, I read the lettering.

  Deutsche Reichsbank. 1 kilo. Feingold. 999.9.

  I glanced at the wall. If my memory was correct, the entire surface had previously consisted of brick. But now, many of those bricks appeared to be missing.

  Confused, I started to put the heavy brick back on the ground. But my eye caught some tiny scratches. Leaning down, I saw a few lines of text.

  If you found this, then you know I was already here. I need to apologize. I lied to you. I can’t explain it now, but the Bell was never my main priority. I was after these bars, from the very first day we met.

  I know you have feelings for her. When you sort them out, come find me if you want. All you need is this bar. It and the others are not what they appear to be. Until we meet again…B.G.

  Her words slammed into me like a subway train. I couldn’t help but feel betrayed. Beverly had returned to the laboratory and stolen what remained of Hartek’s gold. But what did her cryptic message mean? And why had she been after the gold in the first place? For its value? Or some other reason?

  I didn’t understand it. But as I looked back at Diane, I wasn’t sure that I even cared. Mayb
e she was enough for me. Maybe not.

  Either way, I intended to find out.

  Reaching over, I gently touched her face. Then, I guided her lips to mine and we kissed. Electric shocks ran through my brain and I forgot everything around me.

  Everything but her.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered.

  “Making up for lost time.”

  “You’ve been gone for three years, you know.”

  I grinned as I guided her onto the floor. “Well, I guess we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

  DON'T LEAVE JUST YET!

  Thank you for purchasing Chaos! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Just ahead, you'll find a free sample of my novel Ice Storm, as well as a little more about me. But first, please consider signing up for my New Books mailing list. That way, you'll be the first to know about my upcoming books and short stories. You'll also be eligible for occasional giveaways, free advance copies, and other freebies.

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  ICE STORM

  by David Meyer

  (Sample)

  FENRIR

  October 28, 1945

  The creature, a horrific mass of muscles, hair, and ugly red welts, lay on the operating table. It snarled, baring a set of long sharp teeth.

  Exhaling loudly, Jean-Pierre Badon set down his clipboard. He took a moment to adjust his spectacles. Then he picked up a pair of gloves. His fingers shook as he extended them into the cool rubber pockets.

  The creature snapped its jaws. Teeth slammed together. Badon shuddered. Just two days ago, he'd seen the creature slip its leather bindings. Its head had shot off the table. Its teeth had ripped into the exposed neck of an armed soldier. In a matter of seconds, it had nearly beheaded the poor sap.

  Badon tried to steel his nerves. But his hands trembled as he picked up a paintbrush. They trembled even harder as he dipped it into a cup of red paint.

  The creature, or at least the blood that ran through it, represented his greatest achievement. It was a breakthrough of epic proportions. It would lead to radical changes for humanity, for all of creation.

 

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