The Secret of the Codex

by Melissa Frey

  “Mandy?”

  Mandy looked up at Grady for a split second before setting her tray on the table to fill it up. “Hi,” Mandy offered with a quick smile.

  Grady surmised Mandy must’ve worked in the food industry before; she was masterfully positioning the full cups strategically around the tray—and quickly. “Have you seen Kayla?”

  “No, sorry.” She shot him a fleeting apologetic glance before hoisting the heavy tray to her shoulder and moving to the next table of thirsty recovering patients with graceful ease.

  Grady sighed. Mandy and Justin were understandably busy; they didn’t have the time to search for a grown woman who, in all likelihood, was off attending to the sick somewhere else.

  Grady glanced around the mess tent, to the tables full of his friends and coworkers, to Mandy bustling around to all the tables with trays of water, to Justin still setting the cups full of water out . . . wait—what was that? Something shiny had glinted in the light from the hanging construction pendant lights strung around the interior of the tent.

  He walked over to the edge of the mess tent, almost exactly where he’d seen Kayla last. Was that . . . was something lying on the ground? As he reached the spot, he recognized the clipboard that he’d seen Kayla holding when he’d last spoken with her. The one with the list on it. She’d been checking to make certain everyone on the dig was accounted for . . .

  No. With a rush, Grady’s mind put it together. Only half a second later, he knew what’d happened. He snatched up the clipboard and started tearing through the list, voraciously searching for a name—any name—that wasn’t marked off. Then, on the fourth page, he saw it. And understood completely why she’d left so quickly.

  A deep, gnawing, gut-wrenching dread filled the pit of his stomach. He had to find her.

  Where would she be? Grady was wracking his brain, trying to think like Kayla, like Jack. He wanted to run, to go to her—but where? If Jack was as bad off as he suspected, and was too far gone, Kayla would need him to be there for her. But where would she have gone? He hated that he couldn’t think of where to find her; the dig wasn’t that big, right?

  But instead of running frantically around the dig with no direction, he begrudgingly chose to wander quickly around the dig, systematically checking off every area in the dig they could be—provided she’d even found Jack yet—and asking every person he came across if they’d seen either of them. So far, no one had.

  As he passed the communications trailer, he was ready to start throwing things; why couldn’t he find her? Think, Grady, think!

  He jumped as Jackie crashed out of the trailer out of breath, satellite phone in hand.

  “Grady,” she gushed, “we were able to fix the sat phone, and I finally got a call through to the Institute. They’re having a team sent first thing in the morning to do a damage assessment.”

  “Good,” Grady muttered, eyes wandering as he spoke. He wanted—needed—to continue his search for Kayla. “Jackie, have you seen Kayla?” He continued when Jackie shook her head. “How about Jack?”

  Jackie shook her head again. “No, sorry—everything okay?”

  Grady chose to be honest. “I’m not sure.”

  Jackie frowned. “I’m sure you’ll find them. This dig is pretty small.”

  Grady forced what he imagined was an unconvincing smile. “Thank you.”

  “Sure.” She opened her mouth to say something else—what, Grady wasn’t sure—but the phone in her hand started to ring. “Oh, it’s probably the Institute checking in.”

  Grady nodded. “Everyone I’ve seen has been given the antidote we found, and seem to be recovering well.” He chose to leave the possibility of Jack’s demise off the record, for now. No need to worry anyone unnecessarily.

  Jackie nodded back at him once and started back toward the comm trailer as she answered the phone. “Hello?”

  Jackie’s voice quickly faded into the distance as Grady resumed his now more frantic search. What if something had happened to Kayla?

  No. He couldn’t let himself think that way. He couldn’t allow himself to even imagine the possibility. He blinked furiously in an attempt to shut out the terrifying thought.

  Then, as he rounded the edge of yet another trailer, he saw her. And, for a few eternal seconds, she was all he could see.

  But then—all too soon—reality hit. And he really saw her.

  She was a mess. Tears lined her cheeks as she stared at something lying on the ground; it looked like she was holding part of whatever it was in her lap. Grady couldn’t quite see what it was in the darkness; she was sitting in the shadows. He squinted at the scene as he took a few steps forward.

  Grady knew the second recognition hit, but it wasn’t his brain that told him first. It was his stomach, suddenly roiling, and his chest, tightening into knots. He stumbled, trying to maintain his balance.

  As soon as his legs received the command—much later than they should have—Grady ran to Kayla’s side. He barely felt his knees bruise against the ground as he wrapped her tightly in his arms.

  At first, Kayla didn’t respond. She couldn’t. All she could see through her tears was Jack’s still body, lying limp and lifeless in her lap. It was all she could think about, all her brain could register.

  But, after a few minutes of silence, she found herself able to blink a few of the tears away. Then, an eternity later, she pulled a hand out from under Jack’s head and slowly placed it on Grady’s leg. He offered no response except to softly kiss her hair.

  She understood, though no words were spoken. And she knew he understood, too. She leaned into him, drawing strength from his embrace. Then she carefully, reverently, removed Jack’s head from her lap and placed it softly on the grass. She backed away slowly, then stood.

  Grady never left her side. “Kayla . . .”

  Kayla shook her head, trying to clear it.

  Grady misunderstood. “Okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”

  “No, it’s fine.” She waved her hand. “I was just . . . trying to make sense of it all.” She looked down at Jack as tears reappeared in her eyes, blurring her vision. “He really is gone, isn’t he? Like the guys in the Jeep and Jan . . .”

  Grady reached for her and pulled her to his chest, placing a simple kiss on her hair.

  Kayla blinked hard, trying to make herself believe it, though not really wanting to. Then she remembered what Jack had told her just before he . . . She couldn’t even think the word.

  But Grady needed to know what Jack had told her. She pulled away to look up at him. “Grady, Jack had some information. Something important.”

  Grady blinked. “What did he say?”

  “He told me that someone at the dig is helping Na-um and the Mercenaries. He said he saw who poisoned everyone here.”

  Grady’s eyes widened. “Who on earth would do such a thing?”

  In the next second, before she could even think her response, Kayla was keenly aware of what felt like a dozen knives stabbing through her skull. Her vision blurred for a split second, then the entire world went black.

  CHAPTER 37

  Hearing

  “Kayla!” Grady shouted as he reached to catch the woman he loved before she fell. She slumped in his arms, and Grady staggered as he helped her lifeless body to the ground. He cringed as the similarity between the two bodies in front of him struck him like a bolt of lightning. No, he reasoned with himself. Kayla will be fine. She’s not . . . She’s still breathing.

  Much as Kayla had been doing with Jack only moments earlier, Grady dropped to his knees and cradled Kayla’s head in his lap. He gently brushed a stray strand of hair from her face as he stared at her blank expression. He desperately hoped her face reflected what was going on inside her head—though his instinct told him that was far from the truth.

  Kayla was unconscious. She knew that. And yet, for some reason, here she was, completely aware of her thoughts. She didn’t understand. It didn’t usually work this way—did it?
>
  A picture flashed in front of her mind’s eye, then vanished as quickly as it had come. Was that yet another mountain? She didn’t recognize it from anything she’d ever seen.

  Then, all of a sudden, she realized what was happening. This was another vision, yet unlike any she’d had before. Much stronger, more . . . insistent. Insistent enough to steal her consciousness.

  Her head was still being invaded by a myriad of stabbing knives, a thousand times stronger than the worst headache she’d ever had, exponentially more painful than the visions of before. She wanted to cry out, to scream at the top of her lungs, but she couldn’t. Her mind registered the pain, but she was excruciatingly unable to find release.

  But she didn’t have time to dwell on it. Suddenly her mind was filled with flashes of pictures, taking her through the same images she’d seen for the first time in the cavern, while staring into the globe. Then, with eerie continuity, she saw a repeat of her vision of Denali—precisely as she remembered it.

  As the knives continued to pierce through her skull, Kayla saw every one of her previous visions in unrelenting succession. The effect was exhausting, only compounding the pain in her head. She knew she would be screaming for relief if only her body would respond to her commands.

  And, unbelievably, the pain seemed to only be getting worse. With every repeated vision, the throbbing in her head intensified. She desperately searched for a way out of her inundated mind.

  But how does one fight the subconscious?

  No answer came. The seemingly endless parade of pictures was still flashing through her mind. But as the images from her most recent vision materialized in front of her, she hoped that the incessant visions would be coming to an end; and with them, the pain.

  But it was not to be. As another set of images came into focus, the pain became so intense that she could barely remember how to breathe. Using all her concentration—and hoping her body would breathe for her—she struggled to focus on the new pictures. Perhaps this was the vision they were waiting for, the one that would reveal the location of the final book.

  Or maybe there was something else she needed to see.

  Mandy heard Grady shout from across the dig. Her eyes flew to Justin’s as they both dropped what they were doing—literally in Mandy’s case; a tray-full of water splattered to the grass beneath her feet. She was seconds behind Justin as they took off in the direction of Grady’s voice.

  They found him half a minute later, slumped on the ground with Kayla’s head in his lap. Mandy, shocked that she’d been able to keep up with Justin despite his lightning-fast sprint here, stopped just short of running into Justin, who’d come to an abrupt stop just before he ran into Grady and Kayla.

  But Grady didn’t acknowledge their presence. He simply continued to stare into Kayla’s expressionless face.

  It was then that Mandy noticed that Grady and Kayla weren’t alone. She stifled a gasp as her hand flew to her mouth. She placed a hand lightly on Justin’s shoulder and nodded toward the body only a few feet away from where they were standing. He shook his head when he saw the body of Jack McFarland lying lifeless in the grass.

  Mandy sunk to the ground beside Grady. Jack was clearly gone, beyond help. But what about Kayla? It seemed to her that her friend’s latest vision had overloaded her mind. The corners of Mandy’s lips turned down. She’d been afraid of this.

  She felt for Grady. With all the pain she was feeling for Kayla in this moment, she knew Grady’s pain would be at least a thousand times worse. She couldn’t imagine if Justin was . . .

  “Justin?”

  The voice that broke into Mandy’s thoughts seemed very loud and utterly out of place. She turned her head to see Jackie approaching, holding a strange object in her hand. In the darkness, Mandy couldn’t quite make out what it was.

  Justin turned at the sound of his name and moved to meet the new arrival. “Yes, Jackie, what is it?” His voice was subdued, respectful.

  Mandy watched Jackie’s eyes scan the scene before her; she knew when the girl understood. “I’m sorry, but there’s a call for you, from the States,” she whispered as she lifted what Mandy now recognized as the satellite phone toward him. “I think it’s important.”

  Justin simply nodded once and took the phone from her hand. Mandy felt a gentle kiss on the top of her head before he headed off to take the call. She lifted her head to offer a teary smile in his direction, but he was already gone.

  Justin took a deep breath. “Hello.”

  The voice on the other end was deep, almost solemn. “Justin, this is Dr. Coolidge.”

  Suddenly, Justin couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. He understood in that instant why Dr. Coolidge’s voice was so somber, why his stomach had dropped when the doctor had started to speak.

  But he asked the question anyway. “Is my father okay?”

  He heard a pause. Then a breath. Then: “Justin, I’m sorry.”

  That’s it. Three short words. Just three words, but Justin felt the last of his world crumble to pieces around him. “He’s dead.” So matter-of-fact, so certain.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss, Justin.”

  Justin didn’t know what to say. He stared across the darkness of the dig, unseeing. Was he even still breathing?

  When Justin didn’t respond, the doctor continued. “We lost him this evening. His heart stopped, and we couldn’t revive him.”

  Justin nodded slightly, not even realizing that Dr. Coolidge couldn’t see it.

  “Justin, are you there?”

  Justin coughed, only then realizing that the doctor expected a response. “Yes . . . this is just . . . sudden. How did this happen?”

  He could hear papers rustling on the other end of the line. “Honestly, we’re not sure. He was doing fine, then his heart stopped. We tried to restart it, but we couldn’t.” More pages flipping. “All his tests were fine, then . . . I’m sorry; we just don’t know.”

  Justin nodded again to no one but himself. He didn’t know what to say. “Okay.”

  “Is someone there with you, Justin?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then please let me know if you need anything.”

  Justin cleared his throat. “Thank you, Doctor. I will.” He hung up the phone.

  After heading back to Jackie to return the phone to her then watching her walk away, Justin sauntered back toward the group, arms crossed. He knew Mandy would ask, but he wasn’t ready to talk. All he could think about was his father, and what had happened to him.

  He knew who was responsible. The Mercenaries had somehow gotten to his father, just like they’d gotten to his mother. How could someone take everything from him with such indifference? His parents had been innocent bystanders. Why would these men do this? Just to stop them from finding a stupid set of books? It wasn’t fair, wasn’t right.

  Justin knew the second Mandy saw him. Her voice came at him in an urgent whisper. “Justin! Are you okay?”

  He barely registered her question. He could only think of his father.

  But still, he knew Mandy. He knew she would need an answering response, if only to know that she had been heard. He took a deep breath, then gathered what was left of his strength.

  Eerily—with a feeling he couldn’t quite comprehend—his eyes met hers.

  The blank, empty stare she remembered from just after his mother died was back. Mandy’s heart broke into a million pieces as she rose to meet the man she loved. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him close and held him tightly to her.

  Within Mandy’s embrace, he offered no response, no reciprocation. He simply stood there stiffly, waiting for her to move. But she refused to relent. She knew him completely, as much as anyone could, and he needed her right now—whether or not he was willing to admit it.

  Something was terribly wrong. And, given everything they’d been through together in the past few weeks, Mandy could only think of one thing that would tear Justin apart this completely.

  Roger Stanfo
rd was dead.

  She released Justin only enough to gaze up at him. He stood staring at an obscure point on the horizon. She waited resolutely for a full minute until he lowered his gaze to meet hers.

  “Justin, I’m so sorry.”

  “He’s dead.” The dispassionate finality she heard in his two small words tore through her already shattered heart. She desperately wanted to understand—really understand—how he felt. She wanted, more than anything, to be able to help him.

  Mandy choked back tears. “I know. I’m so sorry.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  A short silence followed. Then, abruptly, Justin put a hand behind her head, pulling her back to his chest. “Thank you.” He held her close, resting his head on top of hers.

  Mandy blinked hard. Where had this sudden change come from? It scared her even more than the blank stare. An entirely expected yet wholly unwelcome shiver ran down her spine.

  “Are you okay?” The question seemed inadequate, but she knew Justin would understand what she meant. At least she hoped he would.

  “I’ll be fine.” As soon as he spoke the words, his brow furrowed, and his nostrils flared. Mandy didn’t know what it meant at first.

  Then, with a startling clarity, she knew everything.

  It was as though Justin had entered her mind. But even more than that, Justin’s mind had entered hers. She could hear his every thought, read his every emotion. She felt his consciousness enter hers with a swiftness that took her breath away.

  She should have been resistant. She should have been downright terrified. But she wasn’t scared; she felt his anger at the Mercenaries, his confusion at how unfair the situation was, but the thing she felt the most was grief. Grief that overpowered her thoughts and overwhelmed her consciousness. Her desire to empathize with the man she loved was answered in an entirely unexpected, largely unprecedented way.