by David Wood
Brother Bill went around the circle, assigning a pair of men to each night of the week. “I’ll take tomorrow night.” He looked at Matt and Joel. “Are the two of you up for some fishing?”
“Absolutely,” Joel said. “But we don’t have any tackle.”
Everyone laughed and exchanged knowing looks.
“No need to worry on that account.” Franks smiled broadly. “The Lord will provide.”
Chapter 18
The Catacombs of Paris were comprised of 1,500 miles of caverns, sewers, and crypts that lay beneath the storied city. Formed from centuries-old limestone quarries, the caverns housed pockets of French resistance and German bunkers during World War II. A section of these passages had been converted to an ossuary containing the bones of six million Parisians, making it the world’s largest necropolis. The ossuary was now a popular tourist destination, while the lesser-explored tunnels were the domain of cataphiles—people who illegally roamed the passageways.
Bones breathed in the faint scent of mold on the chill, damp air, and shone his light around. His breath rose in clouds to the ceiling, where moisture clung to the old stone. Droplets of water formed on the ceiling. This was one of the mining tunnels and not part of the actual ossuary, yet it was quiet as a tomb here, with only the occasional drip of water onto the floor to break the silence.
“Do you think they’ll follow us down?” Kasey whispered.
“The pilot won’t, but I’ll bet the guy with the rifle will.” Bones looked up, wondering how soon they could expect pursuit.
“Unless they call in reinforcements,” Greg said. “No telling what kind of manpower they can call upon here. The helicopter was unexpected, so we’d better assume they’ve got more nasty surprises coming our way.”
Kasey took out her own flashlight, a tiny keychain number with a high intensity beam, and shone it along the wall. “How did you know we could get down here through the manhole?” she asked Bones.
“Casebook: Paranormal did a show down here not too long ago. They contacted the spirit of a German soldier who died in a secret bunker.”
“Really? What did he say?”
“I don’t know. He spoke German.”
Kasey sighed. “You don’t buy into that stuff, do you? Ghosts, I mean.”
“Let’s just say I don’t dismiss things out of hand just because they don’t seem likely.”
“Down here, I can almost believe it.” Kasey shivered and rubbed her arms. “It seems like the kind of place a ghost would hang out.”
“The Empire of the Dead,” Greg said. “At least, that’s what the sign above the front entrance reads. Saw it in National Geographic.”
They all turned and looked up when the scrape of metal on stone pierced the veil of silence.
“Here they come,” Bones said. “Let’s move.”
They hurried along the tunnel, moving as quietly as possible and keeping an ear out for the sounds of pursuit. They passed a pillar of stacked boulders that appeared to be supporting the ceiling.
“It’s best if you don’t touch anything,” Bones whispered. “Sections of these tunnels have collapsed in the past, sometimes taking entire houses with them.”
“So glad you brought us down here.” Kasey looked up at the ceiling as if might fall on them at any moment.
They went right at the first fork in the tunnel and followed it around a series of curves. Along the way they passed occasional holes big enough for a man to wriggle through, had he sufficient determination. Maybe as a last resort, Bones thought. He didn’t want to find himself trapped down here, so finding an exit topped his list. They rounded a sharp curve and Bones stopped short, throwing out his arms to hold Greg and Kasey back. Before them, a pit barred their way.
“That’s a long way down,” Greg remarked as Bones shone his light into its depths.
“Yeah, I forgot. Lot of wells and pits in the floors.”
“Any other potentially fatal details you forgot to tell us about?” Kasey thumped him on the chest.
Bones scratched his head. “Nothing fatal, but if we’re unlucky, the tunnels might flood with sewage.”
Kasey bit off a retort. The sound of running feet echoed through the chamber. The Dominion was closing in on them.
“We can’t cross here.” Greg turned around. His eyes scanned the dark passageway behind them.
“I saw a side passage back there,” Bones said. “Come on.”
A few paces back around the corner, they found a dark hole in the wall just below waist height. Bones shone his MagLite inside, revealing another, smaller tunnel. Kasey wriggled in first and Greg squeezed through behind her.
“Get in here,” Greg whispered.
Bones considered the narrow opening. “I’ll never fit.”
“We’ll pull you through.” Kasey held out her hand.
“And get me stuck like Winnie the Pooh in the honey tree? No thanks.” The footsteps came louder now and he saw the faint flicker of a flashlight beam. “I’ll be okay. You two stay hidden. If we get separated, go on without me.”
Before they could argue, he turned out his light and felt his way back around the corner to the edge of the pit, where he pressed against the wall and listened to the sound of the Dominion’s approach.
Footfalls. Heavy breathing. Closer and closer.
This had better work, Bones thought.
A beam of light slashed through the darkness and then someone cried out in surprise. The man stopped at the edge of the precipice, just as Bones had. In that instant, Bones struck.
It wasn’t the stuff of action movies or heroic epics. Instead, he kicked the man in the backside with all his might. That was all it took to send the Dominion’s agent plummeting down into the darkness, his cries ending with the wet splat of flesh hitting stone at terminal velocity.
Bones paused, listening for more pursuers, but heard none.
“You guys can come out now.” He spoke in a conversational tone, but it sounded like a shout in the stillness.
Kasey wormed her way out of the passageway and tried, in vain, to brush the grime from her clothing. “What happened?”
“I kicked his ass.”
“Whatever. So, do we head back to the car, or do you think the chopper’s still hovering around?”
“I doubt it, but I’ll bet they’ve disabled our car and maybe even set someone to watch it.” Greg knuckled the small of his back. “I’m too old for spelunking.”
“Walking is good for that,” Bones said. “Let’s find a way out.”
They retraced their steps, making it back to the first fork in the tunnel they’d encountered, before trouble found them again. Someone called out to them in French and shone a light in their direction.
“The police patrol this place regularly,” Greg whispered.
Just then, a shot rang out, the bullet zinging off the tunnel wall.
“That’s not the police!” Kasey took off running, with Bones and Greg bringing up the rear.
“You didn’t manage to relieve that last guy of his weapon, did you?” Greg huffed.
Bones held out his empty hands in reply.
“Whoa!” Kasey froze and shone her light all around the room they had just entered.
The walls were lined with bones. Layers upon layers of skeletal remains were stacked to the ceiling, broken every meter or so with a ring of skulls, their eyeless sockets casting dark gazes on all who entered.
Bones ran a hand over one of the skulls and it came away covered in a fine coating of bone dust. He rubbed his fingers together, feeling the fine powder. “I wish we had time to look around, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. Sounds like our friend’s getting closer.”
They took off again. Chamber upon chamber of dry bones and leering skulls flashed by in a blur. Here and there, the floor fell away in a yawning chasm or dark pool. They hurdled the smaller ones and rounded the larger, all the while hoping the man chasing them would stumble, but he kept coming.
By the tim
e they came to the intersection of two passageways, Bones found himself thoroughly disoriented.
“We should split up,” Greg said. “Kasey, give Bones the crystal skull.”
Kasey handed it over without a word of protest, and Bones tucked it into his jacket.
“It’s our turn to play decoy. You just get the skull out of here, and don’t even think about trying to rescue us if we get into trouble.”
“No way, dude.”
“It’s our job. Now go.” Greg gave Bones a gentle shove to set him in motion.
Bones took the tunnel to the left, cursing Greg under his breath. There were times when running away from danger was the right thing to do, but not when friends were in peril. He had to admit, though, Greg was right. It was imperative that they keep the skull away from the Dominion.
He kept his eyes peeled for the iron rungs that would indicate a way back up to the surface. So far, he hadn’t seen a single one. He soon left the ossuary behind, and found himself back in old quarry tunnels. The darkness seemed to sharpen his other senses, and he caught a whiff of the rank smell of sewage. Nice.
The tunnel began to narrow and occasionally he was forced to duck to avoid a low section of ceiling. Beneath his feet, the tunnel floor grew rough and uneven. This must be one of the older sections, which meant the probability of finding a shaft leading up to the surface was small. He’d have to double back.
The thought evaporated at the sound of someone approaching. Apparently, Greg and Kasey hadn’t managed to draw the Dominion’s agent off his trail. That made him feel better. Now, the entire burden was on his shoulders—just the way he liked it.
He stole a glance back over his shoulder and, thankfully, did not see the flashlight glow that would tell him the Dominion agent was almost upon him.
A flash of red burst across his vision, hot pain shot through him, and, an instant later, he found himself on the ground, gazing up at a pile of rubble. The ceiling had collapsed here.
“You’ve got to be freaking kidding me.” He looked around, his heart now racing, and his eyes fell on a tiny side passage. It would be a tight squeeze, but it was better than running headlong at an armed man. Holding his MagLite in his teeth, he forced his bulk through, and found himself in a small rubble-strewn antechamber, staring at an iron door.
“Now, where do you lead?” He tried the handle and was surprised when it turned. He slipped through and closed the door behind him. “Dude! What is this?”
Rodent droppings covered the moldering remains of burlap bags at the base of the wall to his left, while the rotted remains of wooden crates lay on the right. Rifle barrels and heaps of ammunition jutted up from the debris like islands in a sea of ruin. But it was what lay right in front of him that held his gaze.
Before another iron door, a skeleton lay curled in the fetal position atop a pile of dust and dirt that had perhaps been a blanket. Nothing remained of his clothing, but his dagger identified this as a Nazi bunker.
Bones picked up the dagger, feeling thrilled and repelled in equal measure. The history buff in him was amazed to have stumbled across a previously-undiscovered bunker, but the image on the dagger—an eagle, its spread wings forming the quillon, clutching a swastika in its claws, turned his stomach. Nonetheless, he needed a weapon. He tucked the knife into his belt, and then moved to inspect the old rifles. As he’d feared, the dampness had been unkind to them. Even if the seventy year-old ammunition was still good, the rifles were too fouled and rusted to fire.
“Too much to hope for,” he muttered.
He would have liked to inspect the bunker further, but just then, he heard movement outside. His pursuer had found the antechamber, which meant he’d be coming through the door at any second. Bones’ thoughts raced. Fight or flight?
He decided to take his chances with door number two. He forced it open, and found himself in a rough, dank tunnel. He looked around for an alcove, or any potential hiding place from which he could ambush the agent, but the passageway ran straight ahead, gently sloping upward into the darkness. Cursing his luck, he took off at a sprint.
He heard the door behind him open. Instinctively, he dodged to the side just as gunfire erupted and bullets deflected off the stone walls. Something needed to give, and fast.
The tunnel curved and sloped downward, and the sewage smell dissipated, replaced by the moist smell of clean water. The beam of his light glinted on a pool of water and he skidded to a halt on the slick stone floor. His breath caught in his chest as he stared out at a sight that many believed to be a myth.
Fed by an underground river and made famous by The Phantom of the Opera, the subterranean lake beneath Palais Garnier was, in fact, a cistern built by construction workers when they found themselves unable to remove the water from the ground where the foundation of the famed opera house was to be built. Now, the space was almost forgotten, though it was occasionally used by firefighters to practice swimming in the dark.
Bones shone his light up at the grate in the ceiling, his sole path to freedom, and knew he didn’t have a chance of getting there before the Dominion’s agent caught up with him. He had one hope.
The tunnel sloped downward at a steep angle and the way grew slick with moisture. Eric slowed his pace. It wouldn’t do to fall and crack his skull or lose his weapon. He no longer heard the big Indian’s running footsteps, which meant that the man had given up on running, and decided to turn and fight. Or, more likely, he was hiding in the shadows, waiting to spring.
Eric had gotten a good enough look at the man to know hand-to-hand combat was unlikely to favor him. He needed to locate the Indian before he attacked, and put a bullet through his heart. He shone his light all around, but saw nowhere the man could hide.
Up ahead, the tunnel opened onto a larger space. One filled with water! What was this?
“Where am I?” Eric whispered. He stood on a ledge looking out at a body of dark water of indeterminate depth, inside a concrete vault. He played his light around, inspecting the walls and ceiling. Aside from this tunnel, a single grate appeared to be the lone means of egress.
The Indian was nowhere to be seen. He must have gone into the water.
The thought had scarcely passed through his mind when a strong hand seized him by the ankle and yanked him into the water.
Eric lost his grip on his flashlight, and it clattered to the ground and bounced into the water. He managed to squeeze off a single, wild shot as he fell, but it went wild. In the muzzle flash, he caught a strobe-like glimpse of dark eyes and bared teeth, and then icy black water enveloped him.
He kicked and flailed, trying to get back to the surface, but wasn’t a strong swimmer. His sodden clothing weighed him down, and he didn’t know which way was up in the black water. His assailant seized him by the hair and, for an irrational instant, he thought the Indian would pull him free of the water. But then the truth hit him like a dagger to the heart—the man was holding him beneath the water.
Panic overrode rational thought, and he clawed at the hand that held him down, but the man’s grip was like iron. His lungs burned and lights swirled before his eyes. His time was almost up. Desperation welled up inside him and he fought harder to dislodge the death grip. His lungs began to cramp, and he thrashed about like a fish on the line. He opened his mouth to scream and icy water filled his lungs. He jerked once and then relaxed in the face of his inevitable demise.
At least I gave all to the service of the Lord.
Something thin and sharp pressed against his throat, and he relaxed as death made him its own.
Chapter 19
“What do we think?” Maddock ran his hand along the smooth, silver surface of the thing they’d taken to calling, simply, the Device. They’d brought it back to headquarters, where it now sat on supports beneath a bank of fluorescent lights, looking like an inscrutable piece of modern art.
“I think it’s dangerous,” Tam said.
“Shouldn’t we send it to a lab somewhere to be analyzed?” Will
is eyed the Device like it was a rattlesnake coiled to strike.
“What lab and where?” Tam’s face tightened and then relaxed. “Remember, we don’t know who we can trust, and our little group doesn’t carry any weight, or even credibility. Yet.” Her features hardened and she raised her chin.
“Our group needs a name,” Bones said. He, Greg, and Kasey had returned from Paris in the middle of the night, having managed to keep the skull out of the Dominion’s grasp. “Something that doesn’t sound like a coffee klatch.”
Tam ignored him. “I’ve got someone coming in to look at it. He’s an engineer from NASA. I’ve known him for a while and I’m sure he’s not connected to the Dominion.”
“How sure?” Maddock asked.
Tam’s shoulders sagged. “As sure as I can be.”
“I don’t see what there is to figure out. You put this,” Bones hefted the crystal skull, “in the hand, point, and shoot. Boom! Instant tsunami!” He strode over to the device and stepped up onto the framework that held it off the floor.
“Don’t you dare!” Tam sprang forward and snatched the skull out of Bones’ hand.
“Chill. I just wanted a closer look. Does it have a trigger?”
“You see that faint outline that looks like a handprint?” Corey pointed to a spot below the silver hand. “I think that’s it.”
“Sweet. I can’t wait to fire this thing.” Bones held his hand above the trigger point. “Those Atlanteans had small hands. Sucks for them.”
“Your paws are just freakishly large.” Maddock turned to Tam. “We should fire it. Hear me out.” He took the skull from Tam and turned it over in his hands, feeling its cool, smooth surface. “Not here, and not alone. You say our group doesn’t have any buy-in from the powers that be. Fly some movers and shakers down here for a demonstration. They’ll have to believe us then.”
“And snatch it away from us while the military squabbles over who gets to study it first? Not yet. Not until I’m ready.”
“I get it.” Maddock chose his words carefully. “Bones and I have trusted the wrong people before, and paid for it. But this is a national security threat. I don’t think we should keep it to ourselves.”
