Arkana Archaeology Mystery Box Set 2

by N. S. Wikarski

  The old lady answered. At first, he thought she was standing in a hole because she was so short. She craned her neck up to peer at him through coke-bottle glasses. “Yes?” she quavered.

  Hunt removed his hat. “Howdie, ma’am. I don’t mean to trouble you, but I’m tryin’ to find some friends of mine who left Chicago and moved out this way. A lady and her daughter. Name of Rhonda and the gal’s name is Hannah. They left this address but I ain’t seen either one in the neighborhood. Can you tell me where I might find ‘em?”

  “Oh, yes, I know about them.” The old lady nodded. “They were the tenants before I moved here.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “You see, I only came to this neighborhood about a month ago. I met that woman, Rhonda, as she was packing to move out. It seems she was called away on business overseas and so she sent her daughter to live with family while she was gone.”

  “Then the gal is still in Phoenix?” Leroy asked cautiously, trying not to sound too eager.

  “No, she’s somewhere down east, I believe. Just a moment.” The old woman left him standing on the porch while she shuffled back inside.

  Hunt tapped his toe impatiently, mulling over this strange turn of events. Why would they go to all the trouble of setting up here only to part ways? Did they know they were being followed? Maybe he’d been a little too obvious in his inquiries, and somebody had tipped them off.

  The woman returned and held out a scrap of paper to him. An address was scrawled on it. “Your friend Rhonda asked me to forward any stray mail or packages to this address,” she explained. “That’s where her daughter is staying with her aunt and uncle.”

  Hunt looked down ruefully at the lettering. The address was somewhere in Maine. If he’d known he was going to crisscross the country like this, he would have put in for frequent flyer miles.

  He handed the note back, but the woman stopped him. “You can keep that. I made a copy.”

  The cowboy tipped his hat before putting it back on. “Thank you kindly, ma’am. Have a nice day.”

  “Yes, goodbye.” She closed the door behind him.

  As Hunt walked slowly down the stairs pondering this new information, he registered something out of the corner of his eye. It was a “For Rent” sign lying flat on the grass. He hadn’t seen it before because it was right next to the foundation. He noticed that there were fresh holes in the turf where the sign had been uprooted.

  He didn’t want to go over for a closer look in case the woman was watching him from the window, but something about that sign was fishy. If the place had been occupied for the past few months, why would the sign still be there? Why would it look like it had just been pulled up a few days before? He irritably dismissed that line of inquiry for the time being. He already had enough questions buzzing around inside his head.

  Hunt climbed into his car and sat motionless behind the wheel, ruminating over the facts the old lady had given him. He couldn’t quite get a handle on what was happening—not just today but right from the beginning when he first started tailing little Hannah. A couple days after the gal showed up at Miss Cassie’s apartment, a moving truck whisked them away to parts unknown. Then the minute Leroy got too curious about the goings on in the antique shop, Miz Rhonda got whisked away too. And now, just when he thought he’d got both Miz Rhonda and little Hannah cornered in Phoenix, they disappeared again. It was all connected somehow. Miss Cassie and her merry band of thieves. Little Hannah. Miz Rhonda. Somebody was the mastermind behind all those disappearances and that Somebody was always one step ahead of him. How could that happen?

  Leroy felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The only possible explanation was that he was being watched. All his life, he’d been the hunter, not the prey. This arrangement was downright unnatural. He switched his attention from his injured feelings to how his invisible foe had accomplished such a trick. His phone must be tapped. That meant every time he called in a status report to Abe, Somebody knew where he was headed next.

  If he called Abe today to tell him he was on his way to Maine, Somebody would whisk Hannah away before he got there. He needed to think of a better plan. He’d call Abe and fob him off with a story about checking out some other leads. Then when nobody was looking, he would double back to the moving company and ask a few more questions about who paid for the move. That intel might bring him one step closer to the Somebody who was behind all this.

  It occurred to him that he’d have to get a burner phone if he didn’t want all his calls monitored. He could use his regular cell to feed Abe the info he wanted Somebody to hear and keep the rest of his investigation private. Empathy wasn’t in Leroy’s nature but, for a split second, he knew what it felt like to be the target instead of the hunter. He didn’t like the sensation at all. He needed to restore the natural order of things—pronto.

  Chapter 18—Right of Passage

  Zach turned his car into the tree-lined glade, his muffler growling all the way. He’d just driven through a bone-rattling stretch of dirt road and was amazed his tailpipe hadn’t fallen off. He checked the directions his grandmother had given him. In disbelief, he realized that this old white schoolhouse out in the middle of nowhere was the right place. It didn’t seem all that special as far as secret headquarters went. He’d been envisioning something more impressive—a glass tower, a geodesic dome, a steel bunker. As the boy got out of his car, the driver’s side door squeaked in protest on its rusty hinges. He sighed in exasperation. He’d need to scrape up more money for repairs.

  Taking a furtive look around him, he wondered if he was being watched. His jalopy had made enough noise to wake the dead, but nothing stirred in this clearing. It was completely quiet. No cars, no people. He crossed the lawn and jogged up the stairs to the entry. Just as he was about to turn the knob, the door swung open, and a very large woman blocked his path. A woman with olive skin, frizzy red hair and scarlet nails that looked like they could rip his throat out. She was dressed in a fake leopard skin jacket and jeans. Bracelets made a jangling sound on her wrists as she parked her hands on her hips and stared him down.

  “Whoa, junior. Not so fast.” She stepped outside and closed the door behind her.

  Zach backed away and retreated down a few stairs. “Maisie,” he blurted out, immediately realizing his mistake. “Oh, crap,” he muttered under his breath.

  She towered over him, glowering. “What’s my name?”

  “Uh, sorry. Maddie. Your name is Maddie.”

  “That’s right, and you’ll make a point of remembering it in the future.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed humbly. No sense in ticking her off any more than he already had. “I’m here for tyro orientation.”

  “That remains to be seen,” she replied ominously.

  Zach felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. “Gamma said I could,” he retorted defensively. Even as he spoke, he winced at his infantile protest. He must sound like a five-year-old.

  Maddie gave a mirthless laugh. “Just because your gamma said you could, doesn’t mean I agree.”

  “But isn’t she the boss of you?” He peered up at her in confusion. She had to be almost six feet tall, and she wasn’t even wearing heels.

  “The boss of me?” Maddie repeated in a menacing tone. “What do you think this is? Some stinking overlord pyramid where the guy at the top gets to shout orders at everybody below him?”

  “Overlord?” Zach murmured weakly.

  “We’ll get to that later. Sit down,” she commanded.

  Zach obediently took a seat on the top step of the schoolhouse porch.

  Maddie sat down beside him. Fishing around in her jacket pocket, she drew out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “Mind if I smoke? Oh wait, I don’t care if you do.” She proceeded to light up.

  Zach didn’t offer a comment. He watched her silently for a few seconds. At least she had the decency not to blow smoke in his face. “Do they let you smoke inside?
” he asked hesitantly.

  “Only in the chimney,” she said.

  “The chimney?” He repeated, baffled.

  “We’ll get to that later too.” She shifted sideways to face him directly. “That is if I decide you’re a good fit for this organization.”

  “But Gamma said—”

  She cut him off. “Your gamma, er, Faye can suggest candidates, but I’ve got veto power.”

  “Oh,” he said in a small, disappointed tone. If Maddie was the decision-maker in this process, he didn’t stand a chance. He silently kicked himself for making such a bad impression when they first met.

  “So, what do you think we do around here? In the Arkana, I mean.”

  Zach shrugged. “I don’t know much. Gamma’s given me the brush-off every time I asked for the scoop. I know you guys run around collecting ancient artifacts. Like Indiana Jones.” His voice rose with excitement. “I mean, that must be so cool. Digging around in buried crypts. Beating the bad guys to the punch and collecting all the plunder.”

  Maddie stared at him, clearly unimpressed by his enthusiasm. “Most tyros never get out of the vault. They do a lot of filing.”

  “Sure, at first. Everybody starts in the mailroom, right? But after that. They get to go on assignment to someplace exotic and dangerous. Raiding tombs, fighting smugglers, and bandits. Jeez, that’s every kid’s dream!” He darted a furtive glance at her face to see how she was taking his pitch. Judging by her deadpan expression, his interview wasn’t going well.

  “This isn’t some video game, junior,” she observed grimly. “People can get hurt. They can get killed. Some of them already have.”

  Zach registered shock at her words. He thought back to the letter written by somebody named Sybil that had first given him a glimpse of his grandmother’s secret life. He averted his eyes, embarrassed.

  “What’s the matter, kid? Did I burst your bubble?” Maddie asked sarcastically as she ground out her cigarette.

  The boy shook his head. “No, it’s not that. I was remembering something. The whole reason I stumbled across the Arkana in the first place was because of a letter from a lady named Sybil. She wrote it to her sister Cassie knowing she might die. And now Cassie is on the same mission that got her sister killed.” He finally looked up at her. “I get what you’re saying. The risky side of your work. I understand it even better than you think.”

  Maddie lit another cigarette. Casually blowing a smoke ring, she said, “Enlighten me.”

  “I know because of Hannah,” he replied simply.

  “Metcalf’s runaway bride?” Maddie treated him to a surprised glance. “What’s she got to do with the Arkana? She doesn’t know anything about what goes on here.”

  “You’re protecting her,” Zach answered readily. “I know that much. I know she was forced to marry a guy old enough to be her grandfather. Spent her whole life locked inside a cinder block prison. When she first got outside, she was helpless. Didn’t know how to dress or talk or think or take care of herself at all. That’s because the crazy guy wanted it that way. He wanted to own her. I know the Arkana is fighting to keep him from getting hold of something that would make him more powerful. It seems to me a guy like that shouldn’t have any more power because he’s abusing the power he’s already got. It’s a drop in the bucket to protect one runaway kid, but I think if the Arkana stops this crazy guy from winning then it’s doing more than that. It’s protecting the world.” He hesitated, embarrassed that he had run on so long.

  To his surprise, Maddie was watching him with a pensive look in her eyes. “Go on,” she prompted.

  “I guess I only have one more thing to say. I always wanted my life to make a difference. I think the Arkana is trying to make a difference in the world and I want to be part of that.” He caught himself. “Er... that is, if you’ll let me.”

  Maddie gazed off to the edge of the clearing and took another drag of her cigarette. A gust of autumn wind shook loose a clump of maple leaves that swirled in the air before fluttering to the ground. Finally, she spoke. “About eight years ago I had a tyro who was a lot like you. That kid rubbed me the wrong way from the get-go. So, I brought him out here and sat him down, and we had a chat. Just like the chat you and I are having today about why he should be part of the Arkana. Strangely enough, he gave me the same reason you just did.”

  “Did he make it past the front door?” Zach asked nervously.

  She finally turned to look at him, her expression unreadable. “He’s in India right now wearing a bull’s-eye on his back. He’s risking his life to keep that crazy old guy you mentioned from getting any more power.”

  “Then his life is making a difference,” the boy observed.

  “Yeah, it is.” Maddie stood up without warning and ground out her cigarette on the steps. She walked silently to the schoolhouse door and opened it. Standing in the entry, she stared down at Zach who remained motionless. Opening the door wider, she said, “Well, don’t just sit there. Are you coming inside or not?”

  Chapter 19—Final Dissent

  Chopper Bowdeen locked his table tray in place and leaned back in his seat. Although his eyes were shut, he remained alert to the conversations going on around him in the plane. He savored the inconsequential small talk of the stewardess and passengers because it made a nice change from what he’d just left behind. Six months holed up in one freaky compound or another all across Europe and South America training Abraham Metcalf’s Nephilim Ninjas. No matter what country he visited, the compounds always looked the same. Cold, sterile places where everybody spoke in whispers if they spoke at all. He was so hard up for companionship during his time overseas that he’d begun cultivating a friendship with Metcalf’s son Joshua. The spymaster always showed up after Chopper finished a round of weapons training. It was his job to indoctrinate candidates earmarked for the intelligence arm of Metcalf’s operation. Chopper had secretly started calling them God’s Gestapo.

  The captain came on the intercom to inform them the plane was making its final descent into O’Hare Airport. Chopper felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach that matched the plane’s loss of altitude. He’d soon be having a face-to-face with Metcalf. His dread had nothing to do with his job performance. He’d given the old man no cause to be displeased with his work. The marksmen could generally hit what they were shooting at. Surveillance cams were set up at all the compounds with a competent staff to man them, and Joshua had been given lists of names for espionage work. It was Chopper’s future employment, not his past accomplishments, that fueled his anxiety.

  The mercenary realized he was indulging in wishful thinking if he imagined that Metcalf would stop short of having the entire Nephilim brotherhood trained. Even though the Americas and Europe were wrapped up, there were satellite compounds on other continents unaccounted for. The cult’s recruiters had infiltrated every corner of the globe. Bowdeen wondered if he’d have the nerve to say “Hell no” if the diviner had a mind to send him to those outposts. He couldn’t afford to tick Metcalf off and find himself on the receiving end of a bullet from one of his own trainees. He hoped it wouldn’t come to a confrontation, but his queasy gut told him not to rely on hope.

  Chopper couldn’t shake the conviction that Metcalf was planning something more sinister than simply beefing up the Nephilim’s defenses. Of course, the mercenary’s theory amounted to nothing more than paranoid speculation since he didn’t have any proof. Joshua hadn’t been very useful in supplying any facts that might allay Chopper’s suspicions either. On the plus side, the spymaster seemed to be in as big a sweat as Chopper himself to find out if the old man had a secret agenda. Maybe if they joined forces, they could suss out what was really going on behind the scenes. If it looked too dicey, Chopper was prepared to bail. Money had lost its charm as an incentive for him to stay on. The problem was that he was still too much in the dark to know if the time had arrived to cut and run.

  The mercenary thought back to h
is last conversation with his old army buddy Leroy Hunt. Aside from Joshua, Leroy was his only other potential source of information. When he’d tried to pry some intel out of the cowboy before, it had gone badly. Chopper now realized his mistake. He’d been too direct when he should have taken a more subtle approach. Hunt could be slick as a greased weasel when his guard was up, so Bowdeen needed to lower his old buddy’s resistance. Luckily, Leroy had a weakness for the bottle. After the whiskey started to flow, the cowboy tended to run off at the mouth. It was possible he’d let some tidbit of information slip. Maybe he’d heard or seen something that might fill in a few pieces of the puzzle.

  Bowdeen found it ironic that for somebody doing intelligence work, there was precious little information circulating in his direction. One thing he did know for sure. After training was completed at the rest of the compounds, Metcalf would be in a position to mobilize his Nephilim Ninjas and aim them at the target of his choosing. Chopper had no intention of becoming a casualty of friendly fire.

  Chapter 20—Burning Questions

  Ever since Cassie had found out that her team was flying to Kochi to meet a trove keeper, she’d been eagerly anticipating a glimpse of an Indian cache of artifacts. Her imagination ran wild conjuring a pastiche of images from Indiana Jones movies. She expected to see an eight-armed statue of the goddess Kali with a gigantic ruby in her forehead. The statue would be hidden, of course, in an ancient crypt accessible only through secret tunnels which were guarded by thuggee assassins. When their plane touched down on the very modern tarmac of the very modern Cochin International Airport, Cassie got her first inkling that they were light years away from the Temple of Doom. For starters, there was the city itself. Some called it Kochi; others called it Cochin. Either way, it didn’t look ancient. It didn’t even look particularly Indian. Set right on the Arabian Sea, with a tropical climate, a marina, and miles of high rises, it looked and felt like Fort Lauderdale. Unlike much of the rest of India, Kochi had slipped comfortably into the twenty-first century.