Kesel reached him and felt his throat for a pulse. Nothing.
Looked like the treasure was all his now. Not a bad deal. Unfortunately, he’d also lost his second gun, and he didn’t relish the thought of navigating this labyrinth alone on a bum ankle.
Lance leaned against the opposite wall holding his shoulder with a vacant look on his face. Blood trickled down the side of his head, and his one eye was now a full-blown shiner.
“What happened? Where are we?” He sounded half-drunk.
Kesel balanced on his good leg and considered his options. Lance was no threat. Shooting him would make a lot of noise and give away his position. Better to just leave him. He was too weak and too stupid to get himself out of this.
A woman’s voice resonated from somewhere up ahead. Kesel concentrated on the scattered echo. He couldn’t make out the words, but the direction was certain.
He stepped over Lance.
“You’re in hell,” Kesel told him. “Put in a good word for me.”
Jillian stood just inside a massive colonnade with Mancuso’s paper clutched in her hand, awestruck to her soul.
Rows of white pillars were spread before her, each one at least twenty feet high and four feet in diameter. Every column was covered in intricate etchings and magnificent glyphs that stretched from the smooth floor to the gleaming ceiling.
The chamber was massive, seeming to go on forever. A blue glow emanated from the center. She wandered toward it, adrift in the ancient architecture.
She stopped at the first pillar and traced the past with her fingertips. A light glowed from within the stone, revealing a transparent relief. Three-dimensional drawings emerged in stunning detail.
Jillian realized that she was looking at a drawing of a human liver, cut away to show the layers. Next to it was a visual procedure showing a piece of the liver growing. Lists and paragraphs surrounded the pictures. A large amount of text was shown beside a medical procedure of the fully grown liver being put into a patient.
The ancients had successfully grown and transplanted human organs. She shook her head in disbelief and scanned up the column covered with other medical discoveries—text, tables, instruments, and illustrations.
Jillian moved to the next column and pressed her hand to it. This one portrayed the planets with shocking accuracy, impossible landscapes of the Moon, telescopes, pictures of sunspots, and the Milky Way. Rows upon rows of what looked like calculations worked as dividers. Rockets, spacecraft, and other floating machines were explained.
“Unbelievable,” she whispered as the magnitude of the find dawned on her. This would change the world.
She moved from pillar to pillar, finding plans for engines that appeared to operate on plain air, floating bridges that spanned seas, entire pre-planned cities, plant farms growing on the oceans.
Writings, brilliant landscapes, maps, drawings, charts, sequences of lines and dots filled miles of space. Never in all her years of working with art had she seen anything like this. A lifetime of discovery awaited.
She spun around, taking in the enormity of the archives. Rows of columns radiated in every direction, each revealing something new and fascinating. The salvation of humanity; this was what they meant. A knowledge far superior to our own.
One particular column caught her attention. It was covered with drawings only halfway up, and then tiny faces—thousands upon thousands of them—dotted the rest of the way. She moved closer to study it.
A row of images started at the bottom and spiraled around the column. It occurred to her that it depicted a continuous story. She circled the column, following the evolution from the phases of ancient man to a full-blown, flourishing, highly organized global society.
How had they known this? she wondered as she followed the story. Society had thrived, but eventually, abundance changed to greed and indulgence. She watched technology turn to weapons. Peace to war. Images showed how it spread across the planet in horrifying realism until the world was engulfed in fire and ash covered the skies.
The last diagram showed a desolate, scarred world—and ancient man struggling to survive once again.
Jillian realized that this was the story of man. The Archives of Man were not just one civilization. This was the culmination of all ancient civilizations, all their experiences and failures.
Tears clouded her vision as she surveyed the faces of those who had died long ago. She pressed her hands to the warm stone, connecting with a culture that hadn’t been touched in thousands of years, yet was trying desperately to keep this story from happening again.
“I understand.” This was why she was chosen. Mankind had been this way before. She was here to stop the cycle. “I know what you want me to do.”
Then reality dimmed her excitement, and she looked back to the way she’d come. She wasn’t alone in here. Sooner or later, Celina or someone equally bad would stumble onto this place.
Jillian had to protect it from anyone who might exploit it. She’d rather die than allow the archives to be chopped up and sold to the highest bidder. If this meant she died protecting it, so be it.
And Simon would be broken.
You can’t have both.
I want both, she thought.
You have to choose.
Sadness washed over her, because there was really no choice. How could she put her love before the fate of an entire world?
The blue light beckoned between the columns. Her blue light. She walked between the columns to where the room opened up to an antechamber fifty feet square. In the center, a round pool of azure liquid shimmered with a light of its own. And floating on top was a model island city with complexes of buildings, plazas, and pyramids, hills, rivers and valleys, ports, roads, and waterways etched in white stone.
This had been their world.
“These people didn’t fool around, did they?”
Jillian turned to find Simon’s grinning face behind her. Relief overwhelmed her as she flung her arms around his neck. He was safe. He was here. She didn’t have to choose.
He held her tight and kissed her hair.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” she said, clinging to his heat.
“I am a tomb raider.”
She laughed and pulled away to look at him. “How could I forget?”
He turned serious. “I’m sorry for not telling you about the deal—”
“I know why you did it,” she said. “Kiss me, Simon.”
He did, soothing the fear in her heart and making her whole once again. Everything would be all right. Together they would be fine. Together they could save the world.
He broke off the kiss and looked around. “We don’t have a lot of time. Did you find an exit?”
She blinked. Exit? No. “What are you talking about? Did you see this? Look at the columns. The writings. There’s an entire library of knowledge here. Knowledge that can cure diseases and help mankind.”
He eyed her. “I saw it. It’s nice. I figure we’re below ground level, so there must be a ramp out of this room big enough to drag the archives out—”
She swept her arms wide. “These are the archives. You can’t drag these out. This is what we’ve been looking for.”
Simon glanced around and frowned. “And we don’t need it anymore. Celina and Kesel are right behind us.”
She took a step back, shielding the model with her body. “No. They can’t have this.”
Simon’s expression hardened in the blue light as he approached her. “Jillian, we need to leave now.”
He didn’t understand, and he never would because he wanted to keep her safe.
You can’t have both.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. She shouldn’t have to make this choice. She felt her heart clench from the treachery of the inevitable.
“I can’t,” she whispered. I know who I am.
Simon stared at her for a long time. “And I can’t leave without you.” He reached for her.
A gunshot zinged
through the air, separating them. Simon spun behind one column, and Jillian ducked behind another.
Celina’s yell filled the subsequent silence. “No one’s leaving until I get my fucking treasure.”
Donovan had just about finished his cigar when he heard a lot of chatter on Walsh’s radio. In the light of a single lantern, Walsh frowned as he spoke to his men. “Bring them here.”
Walsh looked at Donovan. “We have company.”
He stood up, a little stiff from the makeshift chair. “How many?”
Walsh took out his gun and checked it. “Three men. Probably looters on the prowl. I can handle them.”
Donovan sighed. He really didn’t want this to get any bigger than it already was. “I wouldn’t mind hearing what they have to say.”
Walsh turned his head toward the sounds of approaching people. “Don’t count on them talking.”
Moments later, one of the three barged into the circle of light looking none too happy. He was a thin young man, about twenty-five years old with a shaved head and wearing a Bad Company T-shirt with the sleeves cut off over blue jeans.
The other two brought up the rear, but Donovan couldn’t get a good look at them in the darkness.
“State your business,” Walsh said.
“Hey, it’s a free forest,” the young man said. “And I’m pretty sure that abducting tourists at gunpoint is illegal. You gotta badge in that monkey suit of yours? ’Cause I haven’t seen a single badge yet, and I’m not telling you anything until you produce one.”
Then the young man crossed his arms and glared at Walsh.
Unruffled, Walsh replied, “Abduction is a strong word. We’re simply making sure you don’t injure yourselves. This is dangerous territory.”
The young man huffed. “That’s a big pile of crap if I ever heard one.”
Donovan smiled despite himself and stepped forward. “What my associate is trying to say is that we have this territory staked out for an archaeological dig. The guards are here to protect it from looters.”
A voice came from the back. “Now, now. Do we look like looters, Donovan?”
From the shadows, a tall elderly man emerged. It took a moment for Donovan to recognize him. “Elwood Yancy. I thought you’d be dead by now.”
Yancy stepped up and shook Donovan’s hand. Forty years melted away, just like that. “I thought you’d given up trying to save the world.”
Donovan shook his head. “Not the world. Just Mexico.”
The young man looked from Yancy to Donovan. “Are you kidding me? You know this guy?”
Yancy hitched his head toward him. “Meet Paulie. A good kid, if a wee bit impatient. And I believe you know Mancuso.”
Donovan laughed out loud when Mancuso approached, wearing his trademark white suit and hat. Nothing had changed. The dealer still looked as dapper as ever. They shook hands, and Donovan turned to Walsh. “Tell your men everything is fine. They can go back to their posts.”
There was a whisper of movement before the forest closed in again. Only Walsh stayed, ever alert.
Paulie raised his hands. “What’s going on? Who are you, and why are you here?”
Donovan exchanged glances with Yancy and Mancuso and then shook his head ever so slightly.
Yancy slapped the kid on the back. “Better you don’t know. Just be glad it’s him and not someone else.”
“Fine,” Paulie said with a huff. “Have your little secrets. All I want to know is, where are Jillian and Simon?”
Donovan pointed to the hill. “In there. Along with a few others. A man named Kesel and an unidentified man. Lance Fairfax and Celina Jackson.”
Paulie gawked. “What? Celina? That’s impossible. She was kidnapped.”
Donovan shook his head. “It was a ruse. She used it to force Simon to finish the task her husband, Jackson, was supposed to do—get Jillian and find the archives.”
“Unbelievable,” Paulie said, glaring at him. “You knew all this and you just let them drive all over Mexico so you could get your treasure.”
“Better me than the looters,” Donovan said.
“Nice,” Paulie said. He picked up his backpack from the ground. “I’m going in after them.”
“Won’t do you or them any good,” Donovan said. “Only Jillian will be able to find the way out.”
Mancuso put his hand on Paulie’s shoulder. “He’s right. The structure was designed for the Seer.”
“I’ve got eyes too,” Paulie said, pulling his pack on.
“And I got a gun,” Walsh responded. “Boss says stay put. You stay put.”
Paulie glared at him. “And who the hell are you?”
“Better you don’t know that, either,” Donovan said.
“There’s nothing else we can do?” Yancy asked. “They’re friends.”
Donovan understood what that meant. “I’m sorry, but our best hope is to wait.”
CHAPTER
28
Simon peered around the column. Celina could be anywhere. Kesel could be anywhere. But it was Jillian who really worried him. His worst fears had come true—she didn’t want to give this up.
Her back pressed to a stone column, she crouched across from him, staring at the city model—lost in the past. How was he going to compete with that?
“Stay here,” he whispered.
Jillian turned to him and blinked.
What do you belong to? he wanted to ask. The past or the present?
Then she nodded. He could only hope she meant it. He slipped from pillar to pillar, into and out of the shadows. Blue light cast an eerie glow over the floor, and he watched for movement.
Minutes passed and no sign of Celina, but the hairs on his neck were standing straight up. Had he missed her? He turned back toward Jillian’s location when he heard something that chilled him to the bone.
“Come on out, Simon. I got your girl.”
He swore and slipped behind a column where he had a clear view of the center room. Celina was using Jillian like a shield, holding a gun to her head.
“Don’t be a hero, Simon.”
Celina was already crazy enough to kill Jillian. Wait ’til she found out there was no gold or treasure here. She’d totally flip. Still, he couldn’t risk Jillian’s life.
Simon stepped out from behind his cover and walked toward them. Celina pulled Jillian closer when she saw him. “Drop the gun.”
He slowed and tossed his gun on the floor. The clatter echoed through the forest of columns.
Simon caught Jillian when Celina shoved her at him.
Blue eyes looked up at him, and she whispered, “You never mentioned that your ex-wife is crazy.”
“Yeah. Sorry about that,” he answered.
“Now. Let’s find that treasure,” Celina said.
He met Jillian’s gaze. They had a slight problem.
Jillian turned to Celina and held out her hand. “I need the lens.”
What was she doing? She just got done telling him that this was the archives. Did she know something he didn’t, or was she just stalling for time? Waiting for him to come up with some brilliant plan to save them both? ’Cause that last part was going to be a little tough.
Celina tossed her the pouch. “If you try to escape, I’ll shoot him.”
Jillian gave him a quick glance, then took out the lens. She walked away slowly, scanning the chamber. Simon watched her concentrate, his apprehension growing. What if she didn’t come back from the past? Would she rather die than give the archives to Celina?
He checked the room for something, anything he could use to his advantage. There was only ancient script that people were willing to kill for.
Suddenly Jillian stopped and focused the lens on the city. She frowned as she watched the blue liquid for a long time, walking all around the perimeter of the island. She passed the lens out over the liquid, and blue spots reflected and dotted the columns.
Out of the corner of his eye, Simon saw movement behind him. Kesel? Shit. Just
what he needed. Kesel behind him, Jillian riveted to her lens, and Celina torn between the two of them.
When Simon heard the telltale click, he dove for cover and yelled, “Jillian, get down!” He saw her drop to the floor and crawl into the shadows.
The shot went off, and Celina screamed and spun, her gun falling to the stone floor. She grabbed her wrist, crying out in agony.
Kesel hobbled into view, his gun on Celina and his mind on revenge. “Who did you think you were fucking with? Some lowlife digger?”
Simon knew Kesel wouldn’t let any of them out of here alive. He wasn’t crazy. He couldn’t be fooled or bought. He was a killer. As soon as he’d dealt with Celina, he’d come after them.
Simon searched the area for Jillian, but he couldn’t see her. He had to figure out a way to get around the pool to her without Kesel seeing him.
Meanwhile, Kesel said, “I want my lens, you bitch. Where is it?”
This just kept getting better and better. Then he heard Jillian say, “This lens?”
What the hell?
He shifted to the other side of the stone column and peered around the curve just in time to see her walk toward Kesel. Her expression was cool and serious as she swung the felt bag from side to side like bait.
Simon growled. Once he saved her ass, he was going to have a little talk with her about the dangers of walking into the line of fire.
To her own amazement, Jillian wasn’t even shaking when she said, “Do you want your treasure?”
Kesel watched her with dark eyes—soulless and without emotion. Even battered and wounded, he was a dangerous man. Maybe more so. Injured animals were fearless and unpredictable.
She spoke firmly. “I give you the lens, Celina, and the treasure. And you let me walk out of here.”
Kesel’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t buying it. Then Jillian held the bag by her fingertips over the floor. “Or I could just drop it.”
Kesel went very still. That got his attention.
Celina said, “She’s bluffing. She’d die before she destroyed that lens.” Then she leaned toward Kesel. “Besides, she’s not the only one in this room. Simon’s unarmed, and I believe you have a score to settle with him.”
Out of Time Page 24
