by David Wood
He turned to see the carving of Goliath recede into the wall, revealing inky blackness on either side. Instinctively, he had tightened his grip on the sword when he first felt the tug, and he was pulled off-balance, stumbling toward the dark opening. He loosed his grip on the crossguard, and felt someone grab his belt, steadying him.
“That was graceful,” Maddock said, looking back at Bones, who had caught him. “Are we ready to go in?” he asked the group. They all nodded in affirmation. In the dim flashlight glow, he could see that each of them wore the same look: a mix of wonder and excitement.
“You do the honors,” Bones said, motioning for Maddock to lead them into the inky blackness behind the wall.
He stepped through the narrow space between the receded carving and the wall. He played his light around in front of him, involuntarily sucking in his breath at what he saw.
“What is it?” Bones whispered, concern in his voice. “Are you all right?”
“Get in here,” Maddock said. The others were quickly at his side, shining their lights in front of them.
The cavern was enormous. From the wall behind them, the ceiling swept upward at a sharp angle, reaching a peak about fifty feet above their head. Maddock played his light down the wall, revealing a stone well, the twin of the one outside, and five huge, lidless stone coffins fanned out along the wall behind the well. He took a step forward and then remembered the sword. He turned to see that Bones had already removed it from the keyhole. Accepting the blade from his friend, he returned it to the scabbard.
Meriwether scrutinized the back of the door.
“It’s actually a very simple mechanism,” he said with surprise. “It’s counterweighted and set in a track. Whoever forged the sword didn’t make this.” He sounded disappointed and more than a bit puzzled.
Kaylin moved ahead of the others to inspect the well. She shone her flashlight down into the blackness. Maddock joined her and peered down into the depths of the hole. Far below, he could see the glint of their beams on water. He heard a faint gurgle.
“An underground river,” Kaylin whispered, “and look!” She focused her light at water level. Maddock could barely make out an archway on either side of the well shaft. “It’s more than just a ceremonial well. There’s something down there. A tunnel?” she mused.
“I don’t know,” Maddock said. “But this must be how Rienzi got into the tomb without having the sword to unlock it.”
“How did he climb up?” Kaylin asked, frowning.
Bones stepped up to the opposite side of the well and squinted down.
“Ha! I thought so. Turn off your flashlights.” Maddock, Kaylin, and Meriwether extinguished their lights, leaving the depths of the well illuminated only by the light of Bones’ flashlight, which he held above his shoulder, pointing down at an odd angle.
“If you look at it in just the right way,” he explained, “you can see handholds carved up one side. I’ll bet the well outside is the same.”
Maddock tilted his head and moved to his right until, as if by magic, a series of small, oval shadows appeared on the wall. “So whoever made this place sealed it up and climbed out through the wells.”
“But what’s beyond here?” Kaylin asked.
“Why do you think there’s anything else to see?” Meriwether asked, placing his meaty hands on the rim of the well and leaning forward. “Perhaps this is all there is.”
“The tunnel goes both directions,” Kaylin explained. “I think if we were to climb down and follow the river, we’d find more.”
“Why don’t we take a look at what’s in here, first?” Maddock suggested, turning to face the coffins. He walked to the coffin on the right and shone his light down inside.
The coffin contained a large, humanlike skeleton. The man must have been nine feet tall, with a broad chest and shoulders. The bones were intact but appeared to Maddock to be brittle. Behind Maddock, Bones whistled softly. The man had been buried in full Bronze Age armor. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his sword lay behind him. Though all that remained of him was a hollow shell, he seemed to exude power.
“This one in the center has no head,” Meriwether said.
Maddock and the others hurried to the Admiral’s side. The skeleton was the twin of the one they had just inspected, or at least from the shoulders down, he thought.
“I guess we’ve found our friend Goliath,” Maddock said. He gripped the edge of the open stone coffin and silently gazed upon the remains of the legendary warrior. He realized, after a few moments, that he was holding his breath. Goliath! Even when they had recovered the sword, he had not truly believed that it was Goliath’s weapon. It was a remarkable and mysterious artifact, to be sure, but to be proof that a biblical tale was factual? The idea had been hard for him to swallow.
He had never been a religious man. After Melissa died, he gave up on any notion of a loving god looking down on creation. But now, looking down upon the remains of the unfortunate half of the children’s Bible story, he wondered what it all meant.
Beside him, Kaylin fell to her knees and crossed herself, like a good Catholic. Bones and Meriwether knelt down on either side of her, the full impact of what they saw evident in their faces.
“It’s true,” Kaylin whispered, tears running freely down her cheeks. “We did it. I wish Dad could be here.”
“He’s here,” Meriwether whispered, putting his arm around Kaylin’s shoulder, and giving her a grandfatherly hug. She laid her head on his shoulder and continued to gaze in disbelief at Goliath.
Maddock did not say anything. They had proved that Goliath was a historical figure, but that was all. It did not prove anything about God, or life after death, or anything else. He was not selfish enough to say so, not when Kaylin needed to believe it. He stood in silence and tried not to imagine that Melissa was looking over his shoulder.
“It’s not enough,” Bones suddenly said, raising his head to look at the others.
“What?” Meriwether asked, fixing him with a quizzical glance.
“This doesn’t answer everything. There’s got to be more somewhere.”
Maddock nodded. He understood exactly what Bones was saying. He was feeling the same lack of…completeness was the only word he could think of to describe it.
“We know that this is Goliath’s sword,” Maddock said. “We know how Rienzi got it. But it doesn’t explain the sword itself: how it was made, what the writing signifies.”
“Not to mention,” Bones added, “why the writing on it pointed to this location.”
“Because Goliath and his brothers are buried here,” Kaylin said, a look of bewilderment painted upon her face.
“No,” Maddock said. He turned the conundrum over in his mind as he spoke. “According to the Bible, David took Goliath’s sword after he slew him. The priests kept it for a while, and then David took it for himself when he needed a sword. Obviously, the Philistines recovered it some time later. Which means…”
“Which means that either the writing was etched into the sword long after Goliath was dead,” Meriwether interrupted, his face aglow with understanding, “which is unlikely, considering none of our tools could do a thing to it, or it was etched into the blade when the sword was forged.”
“Meaning that the coordinates for this location point to something else,” Maddock said. By the time he had finished saying it, he was certain. There was more to be discovered.
“You’re right,” Kaylin said. “Why would you put directions to a gravesite on the sword, and then bury the sword in that same grave?” She stood and put her hands on her hips, looking around. “So what now?”
“I don’t know about you three, but right now, I’d like to find a way out of here,” Bones said. “We’ve got company,” he whispered.
Chapter 26
Maddock turned and peered through the opening in the rock face, back in the direction from which they had come. Shadows moved stealthily across the moonlit sand. He caught a glimpse of pale ligh
t glinting off the barrel of a gun. He could not tell what type, but the length of the barrel told him all that he needed to know.
“How many?” he whispered to Bones.
“At least eight,” Bones said. “Probably more. Either way, they’ve got much more firepower than we do. “
“Should we turn out our flashlights?” Kaylin asked.
“No, then they’ll know we’ve spotted them,” Maddock said. “Let them believe they’re taking us by surprise, and maybe they’ll be less cautious.” Maddock hoped his voice carried more optimism than he felt.
“Who do you think they are?” Meriwether whispered, drawing his pistol, an old, Swiss-made SIG P-210, from his fanny pack.
Maddock shrugged. “Probably the same guys who’ve been after us all along. Either that or Wrexham’s got friends.”
“How would they find us?” Meriwether protested. “We’ve been so careful in every detail.” His words sounded like a statement, not a question.
“Right now, I don’t think that’s as important as how we’re going to get out of here,” Bones said, “because there’s no way we’ll be able to get back out the way we came.”
Maddock knew that his friend was right. He scanned the room one last time, seeing no sign of a secondary egress. He knew what they had to do.
“Down the well,” he said, “and make it quick. Bones first, Kay next, then Meriwether.”
Bones clamped his small flashlight between his teeth, tucked his Beretta into his belt, and swung over the side into the well. The others complied without protest, although Kaylin appeared quite displeased. Cautiously, they climbed over the edge. Finding their footholds, they slowly disappeared from sight.
Maddock knelt behind the well, positioned so that he could see outside. His Walther he held trained on the opening. In his left hand, he played the flashlight back and forth across the far wall of the cavern, trying to create the illusion that they were still inside looking around.
He stole a quick glance down into the well. The others had not yet reached the bottom, their flashlights bobbing far below where he stood. His heart pounded. How much longer could he wait? He wanted to cover their descent, but if one of their stalkers appeared in the doorway, Maddock would have no choice but to shoot him. After that, the odds of him making it safely down to the bottom would be slim indeed.
He strained to listen for the sound of approaching footsteps. He heard nothing. Whoever these people were, they were good. They had to be close by now. He looked down the well again and thought he saw the reflection of light on the water. The others were close to the bottom. He could start his climb down.
He laid his flashlight on the ground with its beam pointed at the coffin farthest to the right. Perhaps the intruder’s attention would be temporarily diverted from the well when they first entered the room. Tucking the Walther into his waistband at the center of his back, he climbed onto the edge of the well, all the while certain that, at any moment, an armed man was going to appear in the doorway while Maddock was at his most vulnerable.
He hung his left foot over the edge and felt for a toehold, but there was none to be found. He moved his foot in a circle against the smooth stone, seeking to gain purchase in the darkness. I should have spotted out my path before I put the flashlight down, he thought. Frustration welled up inside of him. Finally, he found a niche in the wall. Gripping the edge with both hands, he swung the other foot over and quickly found another hold. Cursing the darkness, he began a slow descent. The sword made movement awkward, and he was grateful for its incredible lightness.
He had descended no more than twenty feet when he heard a shuffling above him. Someone had entered the burial chamber. The sword bounced off the back of his thigh as he went. He paused, hastily adjusted it, and then quickened his pace, wondering absently how deep the water down below was, in case he should miss a step.
The hand and footholds were set at regular intervals, and he soon fell into a rhythm. He stole a glance upward and saw that he had covered a good fifty feet. He guessed that he was about halfway down.
He heard a clattering sound, and the faint glow above him seemed to waver. He guessed someone had kicked the flashlight. The followers had obviously proceeded with caution, thoroughly searching the cavern before declaring it empty. He wondered how long it would be before they looked into the well.
He had his answer sooner than he would have liked. A shadowed form appeared in the faint circle of light up above. Now grateful for the darkness, Maddock scrambled down the wall at a pace that bordered on incaution. The figure up above moved away. Maddock kept his eye on the circle that seemed to grow no smaller no matter how quickly he moved down the wall. They couldn’t be giving up, could they?
As soon as the thought entered his mind, two faces appeared above him. A gleam of dark metal, and then the sound of automatic weapons fire shattered the cloak of silence. Maddock froze as the bullets ricocheted off the wall behind him and down the shaft below. Holding on tight with his left hand, he freed his Walther as a second burst of gunfire ripped along the wall, this time farther below him.
Taking aim, Maddock squeezed off two shots. He heard a scream, and one of the shadows disappeared from sight. The second man, however, ripped off a long, steady stream of bullets that tore into the wall only a few feet above him. Sharp, stinging pain danced across the top of his skull as fragments of ancient stone cut into his scalp. Idiot! You gave them a target! Hoping that the others were clear of the shaft, he let go and plunged toward the river below.
As he fell, he pulled his knees to his chest, tucked his chin, and drew his hands up to his face. He had only a moment for the fear of being hit by ricocheting bullets to do battle with that of too-shallow water, before the tickling sensation of falling was replaced by the icy impact of his body striking the surface of the underground river.
He kicked downward, and fanned his arms out, trying to keep himself from plunging too deeply. The dark, cold water enveloped him, and then his feet struck bottom. The impact sent waves of pain coursing up his legs, through his groin, and up his spine. He felt his body crumple. A coppery taste filled his mouth. For a brief, panicked moment he thought, I’m paralyzed. Then his legs seemed to find a life of their own. Reflexively, they kicked out, and he felt himself rising toward the surface, even as a hard current swept him down the tunnel and away from the deadly gunfire.
He broke the surface in total darkness. He blew a mixture of water and blood from his sinuses, and took a wet gulp of air. Coughing and spitting, he struggled to keep his head above water. He was surprised to find that his arms worked as well as his legs. The cold water dulled the pain in his back, knees, and ankles, but the sensation was there, and that was a good sign. He was also surprised to find he’d maintained his hold on his Walther. He hastily shoved it into his waistband as he swam.
He’d only managed a few feet when his head struck something hard. A loud sound burst through his ears. He felt a brief flash of pain, and then fading…
“Hey, babe. Thought you’d be home by now.”
“Sorry, I had to make a stop. I’ve got a surprise for you!”
“I hate surprises. What is it?”
“Maddock! You are no fun at all.”
“I know. Now, what’s my surprise?”
“I’m not telling.”
“Come on. You know I’m going to get it out of you.”
“Fine, just be that way…Daddy.”
“What did you say?”
“You’re going to be a…AAAAAH!”
Scream.Tires screech. Crash. Glass shatters.
Silence.
“Melissa! Melissa, speak to me! Melissa!”
Silence.
“Melissa?”
Call ended… 0:59
A scream of primordial rage filled his throat, and he rent the veil of unconsciousness. His head was still above water. He must have only been out for a few seconds. Suppressing an angry sob, he focused on staying afloat and pushed the memories back into
the recesses of his mind.
The channel was narrow, and he quickly paddled to one side. He tried to find something to grab onto, but the arched walls were smooth and slick. He kept treading water, concerned that hypothermia would set in if he did not get out of the frigid stream sometime soon. He wished that he still had his flashlight. What if he passed by a side passage and could not see it in the darkness?
He banged into the side of the tunnel as the current swept him around a bend, and then silver light exploded around him. Blinded after so long in the semi-darkness of the burial chamber, and the underground waterway, he squeezed his eyes shut. He felt something tighten around his throat. Then several hands were on him, pulling him free of the water. He opened his eyes to see Bones, Kaylin, and Meriwether leaning over him.
“Good thing you had the sword on,” Bones said, grinning. “I missed you, but I caught hold of the scabbard.”
“Are you all right?” Kaylin asked, looking frightened. “You aren’t hurt, are you?”
“Oh yeah,” he groaned. “I feel great.”
Accepting a hand up from Bones, he climbed to his feet. His ankles screamed in hot pain, but he did not think they were broken. Likewise, his knees and back hurt, but he was still in one piece, which was all that mattered.
“We heard shots,” Meriwether said.
“They almost got me,” Maddock said hoarsely. He paused and hacked up the last of the water in his lungs. “I don’t know if they’ll try to follow us, or not. We’d…” He stopped and took a good look at his companions. “Why aren’t you wet?”
They all laughed.
“Three tunnels branch off of the shaft of the well just above water level,” Bones explained. “They were pretty well concealed, so we couldn’t see them from above. Lucky for you, we picked the one that came out downstream.”
Maddock looked around. The room was wide, about one hundred feet square. The walls were incredibly smooth, seemingly cut with laser precision into the native rock. Ornate, ivy-wrapped columns climbed the corners. The underground river flowed through a channel, twenty feet wide, that divided the room. Where the water flowed in and out of the room were archways adorned with sculptures of angels dueling with swords.
