by David Wood
“He probably lost power,” Maddock said as the sub sliced through the water, headed for the dock. As they approached, he gradually brought the sub to the surface.
“Up periscope.” Bones tapped a button and an image of Key West appeared on their monitors.
Maddock groaned. The island, or at least this part of it, lay under a good eight feet of water. The topmost portions of buildings rose above the churning surface, and all around, people sat perched on roofs or leaned out of second-story windows to witness the disaster.
“What do we do?” Bones asked.
“Let’s see if we can get closer. Maybe we’ll run into the others.” Maddock felt the conspicuous absence of conviction in his voice, and he tried to force down the rising doubt. “They’ve been in worse situations than this. I figure they’re partying on a rooftop somewhere.”
He grew concerned as they made their way into the city and began to navigate the flooded streets. He wasn’t sure how far he dared take Remora. The sub was small and maneuverable, but the streets were choked with debris and submerged vehicles. If they found themselves stranded, at least they’d have a chance to try out some of the special features.
“Hey, check this out. An external mic!” Bones exclaimed. A moment later, a cacophony of noises filled the cabin: rushing water, people shouting… and gunshots. “What the hell? Surely nobody’s looting when the water’s this deep.”
“I don’t know,” Maddock said. “Let’s find out.”
Chapter 6
“Listen up!” Willis shouted over the whine of the engine and the crackle of gunfire. “When we round the corner up ahead, there’s an office building with a broken window. I remember passing it. I’m going to swing in close and you two are going to jump in there. I’ll draw them off.”
“You can’t outrun them.” Matt stole a glance back at the boat that followed in their wake. “They’ll catch you in no time.”
“I don’t need to outrun them. I just need to draw them off of you and then I’ll swim for it.”
“Without diving gear? You’re crazy. I won’t allow it.” Tam grabbed for the wheel. “Let me.”
Willis gave her a level look and held on to the wheel. “I know you’re the boss, but this time, neither one of you needs to argue with me. I’m the only one of the three of us who can pull this off.”
“I hate it when he’s right, but of the three of us, he’s by far the best swimmer.” Matt turned to Willis and gripped his friend’s shoulder. “If you don’t make it back in one piece, I’m going to kick your ass.”
“You just fire up the barbecue and have me some ribs and a cold one waiting. Now, you two better be quick about it. Don’t let them see you.”
They approached the corner at a rapid clip. At least, rapid for the glass-bottom boat. As they turned and swung toward the gaping window, Tam and Matt moved to the edge of the boat and tensed to spring.
“You first, and be quick about it,” Matt said. “One… two… three!”
Tam flung herself through the window, tucked her shoulder, and rolled out of the way as Matt followed on her heels. He landed at an awkward angle and hit the floor with a thud.
“That sucked.” He rolled over and drew in a deep breath.
“Get up. We need to help Willis.” Tam didn’t wait for him, but dashed through the empty room and out into a hallway. To her right, she spotted the door that led to the stairs. With Matt hot on her heels, she dashed to the top floor, the fourth, and hurried along the hallway until she found the room closest to the corner of the building. Inside, she spotted what she’d hoped to find: a heavy wooden desk. “Help me turn this over.”
Matt bared his teeth in a predatory grin. Clearly, he understood what she had in mind. Together, they flipped the massive desk over onto its smooth top.
“You ready?”
“Just like football practice.” Matt put his shoulder to the desk and they pushed, gaining momentum until the desk slammed into the floor-to ceiling window. The sturdy glass cracked but did not shatter.
“Again,” Tam huffed. They repeated the maneuver two more times. The first time sent a spiderweb of cracks splaying across the glass. The second time, the glass shattered, leaving a gaping hole four feet high. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
Matt peered around the edge of the window frame. “Here they come. “Let’s do it.”
The boat rounded the corner, traveling as fast as the tight quarters would permit. Its momentum forced the craft to swing wide, bringing it right up to the side of the building where Tam and Matt waited. She caught a glimpse of the armed man in the bow. His eyes were locked on Willis. Slowly, he raised his rifle.
“Now!” Tam said. They threw their weight against the desk. It slid forward, teetered on the edge, and then plummeted down onto the unsuspecting men. It struck the boat near the stern with a resounding crash, taking a chunk out of the boat’s side and eliciting cries of alarm as the boat tipped hard to port, taking in water over the damaged section. It didn’t, however, sink, and a hail of bullets answered their improvised bomb. Broken glass scoured their exposed flesh as they dove away and scrambled out into the hall.
“What do we do if they send men in after us?” Matt said as they dashed for the stairwell.
“I don’t know. Hide and pray, I guess.” It galled Tam to admit it, but she could think of no better plan.
“Is that Willis?” Maddock looked at the boat that filled his screen as it churned through the debris-filled water, coming right at them. Sure enough, their friend stood at the wheel, jaw clenched. As he piloted the boat, he stole the occasional glance back over his shoulder. He appeared to be running from something. And he was alone. “Where are the others?”
“Maybe they’re in that other boat down the way?” Bones said.
In the distance, a second boat appeared. And then an odd thing happened. A desk came tumbling down from an upper story of a nearby building, and smashed into the corner of the boat. After a moment of shock, the passengers raised weapons and sent a barrage of bullets up at the building from which the desk had been dropped.
“I think we’ve got our answer,” Maddock said. Up ahead, the gunfire ceased and the second boat roared off in pursuit of Willis. Two men took potshots at him as they pursued the glass-bottom boat. At their rate of speed, they’d catch up with Willis quickly.
Just then, Willis spotted their sub and slowed down.
Maddock flipped on the two-way audio. “Need a lift?”
“I’m trying to draw them off of Tam and Matt!”
“You won’t last long. Here’s what we’re going to do.” Maddock hastily outlined his plan, then took the sub down as far as he dared.
“Think it will work?” Bones asked.
“We’ll know soon enough.”
“You two, into the building and find whoever dropped that desk!” Karl shouted. The men obeyed immediately, and Karl gunned the engine as soon as they were clear of the craft. Though the debris in the water slowed their progress, he felt confident he’d catch the glass-bottom boat quickly. Three of them, armed, against one man made for fine odds. One fewer witness, and an undesirable for good measure. He smiled as the gap closed between him and his quarry. It was a fine day on the sea. Beside him, Abel and Henry fired off a few shots.
“Looks like he’s slowing down, sir.” Abel pointed at the boat ahead of them.
Sure enough, the glass bottom boat drifted to a stop. The pilot, a tall, black man, had apparently lost control, and the craft slowly rotated until it faced them broadside. The pilot spared them one panicked glance, then dropped down into the bottom of the boat.
“Broken down or out of fuel, I gather. It doesn’t matter. He is ours.” As they approached the foundering craft, Karl slowed their own boat and ordered his men to exercise caution. He assumed the man they pursued was unarmed, but there was no need to make a mistake.
“Where is he?” Abel leaned over the starboard rail and narrowed his eyes.
“Hiding, no
doubt. You and Henry will board his boat and root him out. I’ll cover you.”
With a loud thump, their boat shuddered and a high-pitched grinding sound filled the air. “What the hell?” A whirring blade sliced through their hull. They gaped as it tore a ragged line across the bottom of the boat. What could do such a thing?
Panicked, Henry fired off two shots at the protruding blade, adding two holes to their already damaged craft.
“Stop it, you idiot!” Karl began working the controls, trying to break free of the blade before they sank. When they began to take on water, Abel and Henry grabbed buckets and bailed. Above the sound of the cutting blade, the engine roared and, with a jerk, they started moving in reverse. The blade disappeared, but the damage was done. They’d be lucky to get away before they sank. They needed to get to the church, and get there unseen at that.
As Karl turned the boat about, an alien-looking metal claw appeared over the port bow, clamped down on Abel’s head, and plucked him out of the boat. Abel screamed in terror and fired his AK-47 with wild abandon. Henry went down, clutching his stomach as a seeping flow of crimson spread across his midriff.
Karl let loose a stream of curses and gunned the engine, hoping extra speed would help keep the craft afloat until he could get away. He spared no more than a single glance at the building where he’d left his other two men, but didn’t slow down. There was no time. If he stopped for them, the boat might sink, or, worse, whoever… whatever had attacked them might catch up. Right now, the only thing he wanted was to get as far away from this disaster as possible.
“This had better work,” Matt grunted, the strain evident in his voice. “I don’t think I can hold myself in place up here much longer.”
“Shut up. I hear them coming.” Tam had little confidence in her plan, but, as improvised attack plans went, it wasn’t the worst. She stood just outside the door that led into the darkened stairwell and listened as the footsteps drew closer. Thinking they had nothing to fear, the men who pursued them weren’t making any effort to keep quiet. Tam didn’t care if they were arrogant or just plain stupid, either was a point in her favor.
The sounds grew louder until she was sure they were almost upon them. This was it. Whispering a quick prayer, she dropped to one knee as she heard a loud thud and a shout of surprise as Matt dropped down onto the man in the lead. By pressing his hands and feet against the stairwell walls, he’d managed to climb up to ceiling level and wait until he could take their pursuers by surprise.
Before either man could react, Tam squeezed the lever on the fire extinguisher she’d taken off the wall nearby. She heard another surprised shout as gas filled the stairwell. She emptied the canister and then flung it into the cloud, then rolled aside as bullets flew through the open doorway.
“Come after me,” she whispered to herself. “I dare you.” She clenched her fists, ready to spring. She’d have to get the drop on the gunman, and that was an iffy proposition since she and Matt had just sprung an ambush on them, but it was her only hope. Every nerve alive, every muscle tensed, she readied herself to spring.
Another burst of gunfire rang out.
And then silence.
She waited, not daring to breathe. Her heart pounded out a steady beat.
“I’m okay.”
She sagged with relief at the sound of Matt’s voice. “What took you so long?”
“You try wrestling a gun away from a guy and knocking him out before his buddy shoots you. Of course, I knocked him out after I shot the other guy. Now, help me haul this dude out of here.”
“Not bad,” Tam said as they dragged the unconscious man out of the stairwell and into the nearest room. “I don’t think your crew mates give you enough credit.”
“Please. I’m a Ranger. I eat SEALs with barbecue sauce.”
“If you say so.” Tam smirked. “I’m going to grab the other guy’s rifle and make sure he’s dead.”
“Oh, he’s done, but check if you like.” The semi-conscious man was already beginning to stir, and Matt took a step back and trained the procured rifle on him. By the time Tam returned, their captive was awake, if not fully alert. He gazed up at them with hate-filled eyes, but he didn’t move.
“Who are you?” she asked.
No reply.
“How hard did you hit him?” she asked Matt, who shrugged. “Okay, dummy. You don’t know your own name, so how about telling me why you’re out there shooting at people instead of saving them?”
“You can’t talk to me like that.”
“I believe I just did. What’s the problem? Mister murderer don’t like taking orders from a woman?”
“It’s not murder. It’s a cleansing.” As soon as the words left his mouth, the man blanched. Faster than Tam would have thought possible, he sprang to his feet and ran, not at her and Matt, but for the closest window.
“Stop!” she called, but the man flung himself against the glass, which shattered on impact. He flew out into open air and disappeared from sight. She ran to the window and looked down, where their prisoner of seconds before now floated in the water, his head caved in on one side. He had struck the top of a lamppost just before hitting the water.
“So much for questioning him,” Matt said. “What do you think he meant by a cleansing?”
“I don’t know for sure.” Tam felt cold inside. “But I think we’d better figure it out.”
“I think I squeezed his head too hard. He looks pretty out of it to me.” The man Bones had snatched out of the boat using one of the sub’s remote appendages lay atop an awning just above water level, held fast by the remote arm. He’d lost his weapon, and now stared up in disbelief at the sub’s high-density cutting blade, which hovered inches above his chest.
“We’ll see how he handles questioning.” Maddock once again engaged the external audio and spoke into his mic. “Nod your head if you can hear me.” The man nodded. “Good. What’s your name?” The man frowned and pressed his lips together. “Let’s try this again,” Maddock said. He spun the cutting blade and lowered it an inch for emphasis. “Give me your name or this is about to get painful for you.” He wasn’t about to slice this fellow apart, but hopefully, his bluff was convincing.
The man’s face twisted in anger then sagged. “Abel.” He looked like he was going to be sick.
“See how easy that was? Now, tell my why you were shooting at my friends.”
Abel took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes. For a moment, he looked as if he might refuse to answer. “The cleansing.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Bones asked.
Abel’s eyes bugged out and he gaped, but it wasn’t the sound of Bones’ voice that elicited the reaction. A diver rose from the water, inches from him. With a single, swift movement, he sliced Abel’s throat, and sank back into the water.
Maddock released Abel’s body and tried to snatch the diver using the mechanical hand, but the man moved too fast. Maddock took Remora down while Bones engaged the sonar and began pinging the area all around them, but the diver was gone.
“We’re not going to find him,” Maddock said. “Too much silt and debris in the water for visual or sonar, and he’s not a large target. Besides, he could swim through any of these submerged buildings and get away.”
“What just happened?”
“Not a clue,” Maddock said. It was the truth. Try as he might, he could not construct a scenario in which the murder they’d just witnessed made any kind of sense. “Let’s pick Willis up and then find Matt and Tam. Maybe they can help us figure it out.”
Chapter 7
Sofia rolled the mechanical pencil back and forth between her teeth, her index finger tracing an invisible line under the row of symbols. She cursed, dropped the stack of papers onto her lap, and fell back onto the pillow. She needed sleep, but she couldn’t turn her brain off. Since her arrival in Huertas, a barrio of Madrid, she and Arnau had made progress deciphering the codex. As she had suspected, the codex bore a strong similar
ity to Egyptian hieroglyphs, but too many of the symbols still eluded them.
She moved to the window and gazed down at the street below. Streetlights shone on a young couple enjoying the night life, and a few stray singles who cast envious glances at the two lovers. Under different circumstances, she’d be down there among them, drinking in the local culture and perhaps enjoying tapas and cerveza at Magister or Viva Madrid. Right now, though, she couldn’t bring herself to put the codex aside.
“Five more minutes, and then lights out,” she told herself. She sank down on the lumpy bed in Arnau’s guest room and returned to her stack of papers. Wanting to protect the ancient codex, she and Arnau were working from blown-up images of the artifact. She had abandoned her plan to send copies to colleagues skilled in ancient languages because she could think of no one whom she could completely trust. Some would turn her in to the authorities for stealing the codex. Others would seek to discredit her find, while still others would try to translate it on their own and steal the credit for themselves.
And then there was Arnau. She was not entirely comfortable working with him either. His dealings with her, as far as she knew, had always been honest, but the fact he’d been caught trading in stolen antiquities strained his credibility. Then again, considering her present circumstances, who was she to judge?
She decided to begin by re-reading what she’d translated so far. It was not a literal translation. The symbols conveyed meaning, but could not be directly transcribed into complete sentences, so she and Arnau had fleshed things out, using a combination of educated guesses, wild speculation, and trial and error. In the places where they were least confident about the translation, they’d inserted their best guess in brackets.
The words of Paisden, priest of [Atlantis?] We are betrayed by our [Fatherland? Motherland?] Our crystals have been taken and our [machines?] [fail?] My [servant?] leads our people to [safety?] but I remain [steadfast? Dedicated?] The deluge shall soon [unknown] I believe we are the last [remnant]…
