End in the Beginning (The God Tools Book 3)

by Gary Williams

  Cain ordered Tina to the ground at the side of the Tree. He picked up the Sword of Michael. Without hesitation, he drew back, and brought the Tool forward, sending the blade deep into the trunk.

  The entire Garden shook, as if Cain had struck its core. He paused to observe the effect with an ever-widening smile.

  “Please, you can’t!” Tina screamed.

  Cain ignored her and struck the tree again, this time dislodging a sizeable chunk of bark. Again the Garden quaked.

  Tina cried uncontrollably.

  CHAPTER 45

  Following Lilibeth’s directions, Bar drove south on U.S. 1 into the night. As they approached the outer limits of Florida City, she turned onto Palm Drive. After several blocks, they passed the Florida City Courthouse awash in floodlights, and the road narrowed from four to two lanes. Small businesses disappeared, replaced by dark open fields. Five miles beyond, they came to a stop sign at the intersection of another single-lane road.

  “I know it looks like we’re in Hooterville, but this is the route,” Lilibeth assured her. “Go straight.”

  Bar studied the roadway ahead, lit only by the car’s headlights. “A dirt road?”

  “Hey, if it was easy to get to, everyone would explore it.”

  Bar continued across. It was difficult to see into the darkness, but the road appeared to split a vast field. On the left, the lights of a farmhouse cut through the night.

  “Now I understand why you advised us to stop at Wal-Mart and grab an electric lantern. It’s pitch black out here.”

  “Well, that’s not exactly the reason.”

  Bar briefly peered at Lilibeth. “Not sure what that means, but…okay. By the way, is this private property?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Hope the farmer on the left doesn’t take a shot at us as we pass by, Bar thought.

  The car bounced over the washboard road. Bar made sure to go slow so their teeth wouldn’t rattle. She briefly flicked on the high beams. The road was straight as far as the headlights could reach.

  They drove by the farmstead without incident, and the dirt road became even more inhospitable. The vehicle jostled as the car tires fell in and out of small ruts. Bar had to slow the vehicle to a crawl.

  The headlights continued to lick the emptiness ahead as the car trundled forward at a snail’s pace. To either side, dark fields of some undeterminable crop were just beginning to sprout. Ahead, Bar could make out a dark wall of trees. When they reached the edge, she was instructed to continue into the ever-thickening, dense woods. She flicked the high beams back on.

  “Lilibeth, are you positive this is the way?”

  “Yes.”

  The roadway narrowed, crowded by trees on either side. With the moonlight blocked by the treetops, the headlights stabbed ahead in a feeble attempt to lance the inky blackness.

  Lilibeth finally broke the silence, “From what you’ve told me, at any moment this cult in Eden could destroy the Tree of Life, and we’ll be dead—wiped off the face of the Earth. Wow, that’s kind of hard to digest.”

  “Pretty bleak, huh?”

  Lilibeth giggled nervously. “Yeah.”

  It was an eerie feeling to be sandwiched by trees, especially since they were forced to move so slowly. Soon, the ruts deepened, and the dirt road became barely wide enough for the car to continue.

  “These woods seem to go on forever,” Bar remarked.

  The woods thickened, and the road became clogged with weeds. Bar had to concentrate to keep the front wheels aimed at the two ribbons of dirt which stretched into the darkness. Dense moss caused the trees to look deformed. Small branches littered the dirt road and cracked under the weight of the slow-moving vehicle.

  To Bar’s relief, they broke through the woods into another large field. The moon hung before them, providing enough light to display a chain-link fence ahead.

  “That’s it,” Lilibeth said. “It’s in there.”

  “So Ed Leedskalnin didn’t move all of Coral Castle in 1936?”

  “This isn’t Ed’s place.” She pointed to a rusted metal sign:

  Florida City Community Zoo

  Established 1944

  Lilibeth continued, “The zoo was built over the former site of Rock Garden, aka Coral Castle. The zoo only lasted four years. It shut down in 1948.”

  Bar brought the vehicle to rest before a large, wrought-iron gate hinged on massive stone pillars. A dark, skeletal fence—no less than eight feet high and capped with spikes—continued endlessly into the woods on either side.

  “And the image of the Jewish tree is on a structure inside?”

  Lilibeth nodded.

  “I don’t see anything behind the fence.”

  “You’ll understand once we’re inside.”

  “And I suppose you know a way in.”

  “You suppose right.” Lilibeth offered a goofy grin.

  Bar and Lilibeth grabbed the electric lantern and a flashlight. Bar also clutched Cain’s dagger in her free hand as they exited the vehicle.

  Cricket chirps filled the still night air. Lilibeth swatted at a bug feeding on her arm. “While Coral Castle, at its current location in Homestead, was unfazed by Hurricane Andrew in 1992, this fence didn’t fare quite as well.”

  Bar glanced at her watch. 5:38 a.m. They had fifty-two minutes to get to the symbol of the Jewish tree and open the portal from this side. She could feel the pressure building.

  Using the lantern, Lilibeth led Bar to the right, moving along the fence into the thicket. “By the way, I have a phobia of frogs. If I scream, you’ll know why.” A fetid smell reached them from somewhere beyond their lights. The carcass of some creature was apparently nearby.

  Lilibeth reached a clearing beside the fence—or what used to be the fence. A sizeable section had been shredded away, as if struck by a locomotive. “Welcome to the former Kingdom of Sir Ed,” Lilibeth said with a curtsy.

  And people think I’m strange, Bar thought.

  CHAPTER 46

  Scott was jarred awake. Faint sunlight came from somewhere above.

  His body ached, and he was pinned by a rock angled across his chest. He tried to push the rock aside, but he was too weak. His stomach cramped with each attempt, and his chest burned. He felt as if he might pass out again.

  It took a moment for him to recall where he was and what had happened.

  Cody!

  Again, he tried to shove the heavy rock off his chest, but the pain was excruciating. “Cody! Cody, are you okay?” he called through labored breaths.

  Several long seconds passed, and Scott feared the worst. “God, please don’t let him be dead,” he whispered hoarsely.

  Scott heard rocks moving and a small face appeared above his, smudged with dirt. “I’m here, Daddy.” Cody tried to move the rock off Scott, but this only made the pain worse.

  “Cody, don’t. It…it hurts too much.”

  “Daddy, I don’t want you to hurt. We’ve got to get it off you.” For the first time since arriving here, Cody’s tone belied his innocence, reflecting the fear of a little boy.

  “It’s okay, son. I’ll be…okay.” Scott’s world darkened. He could no longer fend off unconsciousness.

  ****

  With no clear destination, Lila still felt it best to stay on the move. With Rufus and Tonya, the trio left the glade and pushed through the underbrush.

  “How can it be one million years in the past?” Tonya asked.

  “I don’t know. I can only tell you what I’ve observed,” Lila responded. “One thing we have in common is that we all seem to have been consumed by an incredibly large, one-eyed, snake-like creature. Then, somehow, we ended up here in the past.”

  “This is surely not the Kingdom of God,” Tonya remarked. “Hey,” she said in a knowing tone, “maybe we are dead, and this is our test to see if we’re allowed through the gates of Heaven? No, that can’t be. I’m an upstanding Christian. My faith is beyond reproach. This wouldn’t make sense that Jesus would p
ut me through such an ordeal.”

  “Trust me, Tonya,” Rufus gave her a wink and a smile. “None of this makes eeny sense.”

  With everything that was going on, Lila couldn’t believe Rufus appeared to be hitting on Tonya.

  Men.

  With Lila in the lead, they broke through the tall brush and arrived at a cluster of pine trees. As they pressed onward, Lila noted other terrifying-looking insects—including a predatory arthropod that resembled a modern-day scorpion except it had six claws and an ominous red stinger over eight inches long. She carefully avoided the insects, not knowing what venom their bites might hold. Simultaneously, she was ever watchful of her surroundings, fearful of coming across a Xenosmilus.

  When they emerged from the trees, they reached flatland, knee deep in weeds. The sun was scorching the landscape, and a putrid, earthy smell hung on the light breeze. Moving with extreme caution in the tall grass, Lila had only taken a dozen steps when a horde of flies rose from the ground and flew off.

  There was a carcass at Lila’s feet.

  The body had been eviscerated. It took a moment for her to realize it was the human remains of a male—an arm here, a leg there, the head detached, lying on the pelvic area. His head had been stripped clean, leaving nothing but a crushed skull. Lila felt queasy, but she fought back the rising bile.

  Tonya bumped into Lila. When she realized Lila was looking down, she followed her gaze. Tonya screamed, wheeled to the side, and retched.

  Rufus stepped next to Lila, taking in the gory sight. “Holy sheep shit.”

  “Barton Rifold?” Lila managed to ask.

  “Assume so, although I never seen him look that crappy,” Rufus said.

  Tonya continued to heave and was now crying at the same time. Rufus stared at the disjointed, mutilated corpse with grotesque fascination. “You think dem cats did this?”

  “Yes, a Xenosmilus. They’re vicious and powerful relatives of the saber-toothed tiger. We better keep moving because it’s somewhere in the area.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice,” Rufus said, collecting Tonya.

  She had finally stopped retching. “Dear Lord, Barton Rifold is in your hands now. Take good care of him,” Tonya whimpered.

  A growl arose, followed by a booming roar. The threesome froze in their tracks.

  Lila’s heart was racing. The sound had originated from somewhere close on their left. Very close.

  Tonya sobbed loudly, “Oh, God.”

  “Shhhh!” Lila quieted her.

  The rustling of leaves sent the threesome in a mad dash to the right and into the underbrush. Rufus was no longer assisting Tonya. Instead, he broke out ahead of the two women, weaving through the brush, distancing himself. Tonya was shaking so badly, she was barely able to run. Lila grabbed her by the arm and dragged her forward as the brush and limbs raked at their skin.

  Behind, the cracking of branches intensified. A creature was quickly gaining on them. Lila chanced a glance back over her shoulder, and her heart nearly stopped. Thirty yards behind, she saw the imposing physique of not one, but two Xenosmiluses quickly traversing the heavy foliage toward them.

  The fear Lila felt being chased by these large prehistoric beasts was intense and unequaled. She had been in life-or-death situations before: she had been in the cave on Isla de la Palma when an assassin tried to kill her. With him, however, she was dealing with human intellect, someone she had outwitted, but these adversaries were creatures driven by instinct and a carnal desire to eat. They weren’t acting on emotion or greed, only a need to survive. There would be no reasoning with them. These cats would pursue them relentlessly.

  Worst of all, there was nowhere to hide.

  CHAPTER 47

  Lilibeth led Bar through the large opening in the fence to a worn, two-lane asphalt road. They walked it for several minutes, keeping the flashlight trained ahead to spook off any animals that might be lurking in the darkness. They soon reached a parking lot where thigh-high weeds rose from the cracks of the concrete surface. Lilibeth made a serpentine path through the weeds with Bar following closely behind. They paused before a dilapidated, free-standing archway.

  “This used to be part of a tall, wooden fence that circled the zoo,” Lilibeth said.

  Beyond the archway, Bar saw only broken slabs of cement. At one time, they had probably been the base for animal cages and pens.

  There was one tower not far away; a lone structure in a sea of nothingness. Bar caught it in her flashlight beam. The edifice was without windows and stood on a four-sided base, rising like an obelisk at least twenty feet high. Missing large chunks at the mid-section, with the top sheared off, this was most likely another casualty of Hurricane Andrew twenty-plus years ago. “Let me guess: That’s where Ed left the image of the Tree.”

  “Yes, it is a structure he left. No, it doesn’t contain the image.”

  “Then where is it?”

  “I’ll show you.” Lilibeth walked to the base of the obelisk. She seemed to orient herself then moved to the right side and kicked away some leaves to reveal a block foundation. “Wait, this isn’t right.” She shifted to the opposite side of the obelisk. Bar kept the light to the ground where Lilibeth stared. Again, she kicked away some leaves. This time, she uncovered a layer of limbs. Lilibeth squatted, placed the lantern on the ground, and began pulling the limbs away one by one. “I was here last year and covered the hole with tree branches.”

  “Hole?”

  “Ed left a secret underground tunnel. I don’t think the zoo owners ever knew.”

  Bar cocked her head. “Then, how’d you find it?”

  “I research all things Leedskalnin. I’ve spent hours and hours tracking down local residents who had stories to tell about Ed. On one of my pilgrimages to Coral Castle last year, I arranged an interview with an elderly woman who claimed to have known Ed when she was twenty-four years old. She said that Ed once mentioned he had built underground chambers at Coral Castle. Well, I knew the current site had been thoroughly explored using ground-penetrating radar and no such underground anomalies existed. Then I realized the chambers might be at the original location. I made six trips here before I eventually found the entrance under this obelisk.”

  “How come you never told anyone?”

  “For one thing, I’m pretty sure I was trespassing. Also, there was no evidence to prove the labyrinth had been constructed by Ed. But now that you told me you decoded a message in A Book in Every Home about an image of a Jewish tree, I have my smoking gun.”

  Bar squatted beside Lilibeth and helped her remove the limbs and large sticks. It took them a while to clear, but when they finished, Bar shined her light through the wide, perfectly round opening. There was a rough stone floor approximately six feet below.

  “I’ll lead,” Lilibeth said. She spun around, eased her legs down, and fearlessly dropped in. Lilibeth reached back up, and Bar handed her the lantern and flashlight. Perched on the edge, Bar turned around and lowered herself in. She dropped the last foot and landed safely.

  They stood in a large, manmade room with walls of coral. The enclosure appeared to be a perfect square with corridors leading away at each of the four corners. Before each corridor was a podium with a celestial statue carved out of rock. Bar understood what each statue represented. “The four principal lunar phases of the moon.” She pointed to them in order, “First quarter, full moon, third quarter, and new moon.”

  “Ed had a thing for planets and moons.”

  “How many times have you been down here?” Bar continued to survey the walls.

  “Several. The last time was on an imaginary date with Ed,” she pointed to a spot near a wall. “He’s not a big man, but he rocked my world.”

  “Lilibeth, please focus. Which way do we go?”

  Lilibeth considered each corridor. “Oh, all right. Let’s see…I always get turned around down here.”

  “Sounds like you always get turned on down here, too.”

  “Who wouldn’
t?” Lilibeth said under her breath. “First quarter moon,” she moved toward the corridor. “That’s where I saw the image of the tree.”

  Holding the lantern, Lilibeth led the way.

  So far, so good, Bar thought as she followed with the flashlight. She clutched Cain’s dagger in her other hand. It was 6:00 a.m. Thirty minutes to go.

  Lilibeth led her on a lengthy walk down a rough stone corridor. The passage gradually widened to the point where they could walk side by side.

  Lilibeth screamed, and Bar instinctively pulled her pistol. “What? What is it?”

  Pressed against the left wall, Lilibeth pointed across to the other wall with a shaking hand. She was so terrified, she couldn’t speak.

  Bar guided the flashlight to the wall. “I don’t see anything,” she said, breathing fast.

  “On…the ground,” Lilibeth managed to stammer.

  Bar dropped the light to the floor. A small brown toad sat beside the wall, its eyes sparkling on the light. Bar dropped her weapon in relief. “It’s only a frog, Lilibeth.”

  Lilibeth didn’t say a word. Instead, with her back braced against the wall, she slowly slid along the tunnel.

  The corridor began to decline at a thirty-degree angle and made a switchback which also declined at the same angle, sending them deeper underground. Bar couldn’t help but become uneasy as she thought back to the similarity of the switchbacks while descending into the chamber at Cain’s tomb only hours before.

  “What’s down the other three tunnels?”

  “They each dead-end into a specifically shaped room: triangular, circular, and rectangular. This one ends in a square room. This is the only tunnel that’s lower than where we entered.”

  As Lilibeth said, the passageway ended at a carved doorway with an arch. They passed through into a square room of average size.

  Bar shined her light across the walls but saw nothing.

  Lilibeth walked directly toward the wall in front of them. Using the lantern, she examined the surface. She seemed to trace something with her fingers. “It’s here.”