Cryptid Quest: A Supernatural Thriller (The John Decker Supernatural Thriller Series Book 8)

by Anthony M. Strong

  “I’m not sure he thinks of himself in those terms,” Decker said, grinning. “But as far as I know, he’s single. You like him?”

  “That would be telling.” Now it was Cassie’s turn to grin. “But I sensed a little something between us when we were in the ship last night.”

  “Yeah. He’s good at that.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Never mind.” Decker looked at her. “Look, Rory isn’t exactly one of the most forward guys on the planet. If you’re waiting for him to make a move, it might take a while. Actually, scratch that. It could take forever.”

  “That’s okay. I can be kind of shy, too.”

  “Well, if there really is a spark there, one of you is going to have to swallow your shyness. And I doubt it will be Rory.”

  “Good to know.” Cassie turned her gaze frontward again. Up ahead was another archway, much like the one they had recently left behind. The room beyond was nothing but a dark void. “What do you think is in there? More hieroglyphics?”

  “Maybe, but I doubt it,” Decker replied. The corridor they were in had been leading them steadily upward since they left the hieroglyphics room. Decker calculated they were high in the pyramid now, near the apex. “We can’t be too far from that gemstone mentioned in the hieroglyphics.”

  “You think it’s up ahead?”

  “If it’s still here,” Decker said. “And if my theory is correct, then it will be.”

  “When are you going to let the rest of us in on your theory?” Cassie asked.

  “When I feel confident that I’m right.” Decker said.

  “Are you always this mysterious?” Cassie asked.

  “Not mysterious. Cautious.” Decker approached the archway. The room beyond glowed with the same weird luminescence as the rest of the pyramid, but it was large, and the glow only went so far. The center of the room was swathed in blackness. He stopped at the threshold, overcome by a creeping sense of unease. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “Great. Every time you get a bad feeling, we end up running for our lives.” Rory came up behind Decker and peered past him into the gloom.

  “Better than walking blindly into danger,” Decker replied.

  “It’s so dark.” Cassie took a step closer to the archway. “I can’t see anything.”

  “Me either,” Decker said. He turned to her. “Have you got that flashlight?”

  “Yes.”

  “Turn it on. I want to see what’s up ahead before we commit ourselves.”

  “Sure.” Cassie turned the light on and swung it past the archway, then jumped back with a squeal. Standing not five feet away, illuminated by the flashlight’s beam, stood the motionless figure of a Cyclops.

  53

  The Cyclops observed them with one large, round eye.

  Rory let out a strangled gasp and stumbled backwards, almost bumping into Commander Ward.

  Decker reached out to pull Cassie back, but then he stopped. “Hang on. Something’s not right.”

  “You’re telling me,” Rory said. His gaze shifted from the Cyclops to Cassie. “I thought these things didn’t come into the pyramid.”

  “They don’t. At least, the few that I’ve encountered since I got stranded here. I’m not an expert on this stuff.” Cassie looked perplexed. “Why isn’t it attacking us?”

  “Because it’s not real.” a sense of relief overcame Decker. He stepped forward and studied the Cyclops. “It’s a statue. Made of stone.”

  “Oh, thank goodness for that.” Rory laughed nervously. “For a second there, I thought we were all goners.”

  “It’s so lifelike.” Cassie approached the statue and peered up at it. She ran a hand across the stone surface and touched the creature’s face. “Almost feels like real skin. The detail is incredible.”

  “The Greeks were master carvers,” Rory said, plucking up the courage to enter the room. “I wonder why they put this statue in such an odd place, though? Right in the doorway.”

  “Maybe this isn’t where it they meant it to go,” Decker said. “They might’ve been moving it and abandoned the statue here.”

  “If that’s the case, they left a bunch of others, too,” Cassie said, sweeping the flashlight around the room. It picked up more statues, all posed in unique positions and facing every which way. “There’s no order to any of this. It’s like they just plunked them down wherever they felt like it.”

  “Maybe we’re in a storeroom,” Ward said.

  “Unlikely. This room is high in the pyramid,” Decker replied. “It would take a lot of manpower to bring all these here from ground level.”

  “Maybe they carved them in situ.”

  “Unlikely. They would still need to bring the blocks here, and that would be impossible in those narrow tunnels.”

  “And there’s no sign this room was used like that,” Emma said. “There are no tools or other artifacts relating to carving stone.”

  “Well, they didn’t get here by themselves,” said Darren Yates, walking among the statues. Toward the middle of the room, he stopped and turned, calling out to the others. “Hey, this one is different. It’s not a Cyclops.”

  “It’s a hoplite,” Emma said, rushing across to the statue. “The Greek foot soldier. Look at his shield.”

  “It’s not stone.” Yates tapped the shield. “It’s metal.”

  “That’s some fancy detail work, giving him a real shield,” Rory said, “just to leave him here in this room. Why wouldn’t the people who created these move their statues somewhere more prominent?”

  “Why bother with the statues at all?” Garrett asked. “It wasn’t like there was anyone around to see them. This pyramid is about as far in the middle of nowhere as you could get.”

  “That’s a good question,” Decker said.

  “There’s another soldier over here,” Emma said, weaving between two eerily lifelike Cyclops. “Looks like this one is Greek, too.”

  “The statues don’t make sense.” Cassie was wandering among the stone figures. Her voice was soft, as if she were talking more to herself than the rest of the people in the room. “Why make so many statues of Cyclops? And why leave them here in such disarray, with no discernible forethought?”

  “The Greeks made a lot of statues,” Emma said. “Maybe they really were just storing them here until they could ship them back to the Mediterranean.”

  “I agree with John,” Cassie said. “This room is too high in the pyramid to make sense as a studio where they were making these things. I don’t believe it’s a storage area, either. It would be a tremendous task to get these down to the ship when they could just make them dockside.”

  “And why sprinkle a few random Greek foot soldiers in?” Rory said. “Those aren’t the kind of subjects the ancient Greeks normally bothered with. They made their statues for votive purposes, like to adorn a temple or other such holy place, or as decoration for buildings. If our theory is correct, and the Greeks came here later, long after the Egyptians built this pyramid, then it would have coincided with their classical period, which leaned heavily toward the artistic merit of statuary.”

  “The material isn’t right either,” Emma said. “I don’t know what the stone is, but it should be bronze or marble.”

  “It’s clearly neither one of those,” Decker said.

  “Does it matter why these statues are here or what they’re made of?” Darren asked. He glanced toward the other end of the room, and a set of stout doors made of wood. “I bet there are better things than a bunch of moldy old figurines around here. I vote we keep going and see what’s beyond those doors.”

  “A good idea,” Decker said. His feeling of unease was returning. A vague sense of disquiet that lingered at the back of his mind. He felt like it had something to do with the statues, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. “We shouldn’t linger in this room.”

  “You okay?” Rory asked, noticing the strange look on Decker’s face.

  “Just fee
ling a little uncomfortable around the statues, that’s all,” Decker said, keeping his misgivings to himself. Until he could pinpoint what was making him nervous, he didn’t want to spook the others.

  “They are kind of unnerving,” Rory said. “Too realistic. It’s like they just walked into this room under their own steam.”

  “Oh my God,” Emma said. “We have to get out of here, right now. I know why the statues are like this.”

  “Why?” Cassie asked.

  “Because they’re not statues.” Emma looked panicked.

  “You’re not making any sense,” Darren said. “what else could they be?”

  Emma was about to answer, but at that moment, a sibilant feminine voice speaking in a strange and archaic tongue echoed through the room.

  “It’s coming from the corridor,” Rory said, glancing back in the direction from which they came. “Something must’ve followed us in here.”

  “Rory,” Emma said, aghast. “Whatever you do, don’t look at what’s coming through that doorway.”

  “We can’t fight what we can’t see,” Ward said, taking a step forward. He hitched a thumb toward the wooden doors at the other end of the room. “The rest of you get out of here. I want to see what we’re up against.”

  “No.” Emma ran forward and gripped his arm. “You really don’t.”

  “Why not?” Ward looked confused.

  “Because if you do, it will kill you.” Emma was dragging the commander forcibly backwards toward the wooden doors. “That’s why all these statues are here. They used to be alive, just like us. Until they looked at the Gorgon.”

  54

  Decker, Rory, and the rest of the group retreated quickly through the statue chamber to the set of wooden doors at the far end. Decker gripped the ornate bronze handles adorning the doors and pushed with all his might, but the doors would not budge. While to their rear, the strange sibilant voice whispered, enticing them to turn and look at it.

  “Is there a latch we have to disengage?” Rory asked in a panic.

  “No.” Decker felt a prickle of fear run up his spine. They were running out of time.

  “Try again.” Emma was shaking. “Hurry. The Gorgon is getting closer. I can hear it.”

  “I am trying.” Decker put his back into it. He dug his heels in pushed, grunting with the exertion. “It’s no good. The door must be locked from the other side.”

  “What are we going to do?” Darren Yates asked in a shaky voice.

  “Bust it in,” Decker said. “In the meantime, whatever happens, don’t look at that creature coming up behind us. Unless you want to spend the rest of eternity in this room as a statue.”

  “Don’t worry about us,” Rory said. “You just concentrate on getting that door open.”

  “That’s the plan,” Decker said. He stepped away and launched himself at the unyielding doors, slamming his shoulder into them. The doors flexed inward a few inches but did not give.

  “Here. Let me help,” Ward said, joining Decker on the next attempt.

  “Be my guest.” Decker lowered his shoulder and barreled toward the door again, with the commander at his side.

  The impact of their combined efforts produced a gratifying snap of wood from the other side.

  “It’s working. Try again,” Rory said, keeping his eyes firmly rooted forward to avoid inadvertently glimpsing the deadly creature slinking up behind them. “And hurry. The Gorgon is getting closer.”

  “Thanks for stating the obvious,” Decker said, his voice a low growl, as he and Ward backed away for one more assault on the stubborn doors. He rubbed his sore shoulder. “I sure wish we had something else to do this with. Not sure I enjoy being a human battering ram.”

  “A few bruises are worth not being turned to stone,” Ward said. “You ready to go again?”

  “Do I have a choice?” Decker said. He sucked in a deep breath and launched himself at the doors, hoping this would be the last attempt. Which it might well turn out to be regardless of their success. If they didn’t get through the door soon, the Gorgon would be upon them. He could sense her drawing closer, but he didn’t dare glance over his shoulder. It was an unnerving feeling, fleeing from an enemy they could not look at, even for a moment.

  He slammed into the doors, wincing as a sharp jolt of pain lanced down his arm. Beside him, Ward grunted as he impacted a split second later.

  The doors flexed and bowed inward. Then whatever was holding them shut gave way with a sharp crack. The doors banged open. Splintered wood fell around them as Decker and Ward tumbled through, carried into the space beyond by their own momentum.

  Decker staggered forward, regaining his balance, before turning back to the others, careful to keep his eyes lowered toward the ground lest he accidentally meet the Gorgon’s gaze. “Move. Get through the door. Now!”

  But the others didn’t need any encouragement. They were already hurrying across the threshold. Rory and Garrett came last. As soon as everyone was safely out of the statue chamber, they took the doors and swung them closed.

  Decker looked around, frantic, for something to barricade them with. They were in a square chamber with a smooth flagstone floor and tall walls. A stone staircase wrapped around the perimeter, turning once, then again, and a third time, before ending at another doorway sixty feet above them. Just like the rooms that came before, an eerie, translucent light emanated from the walls.

  Apart from the shattered remains of a crossbeam that previously slid into brackets and held the doors closed, there was nothing that would prevent the Gorgon from entering.

  In the end, Decker picked up a splintered section of crossbeam, and slid it as best he could into the two brackets closest to the place where the two doors met. It wasn’t a perfect solution, and would not hold for very long, but it was all they had.

  He turned to the others. “Let’s keep moving.”

  As if to prove his point, the doors rattled.

  There was an angry chorus of hissing, as if a nest of snakes were trying to break through, followed by more of the archaic language from the other side.

  “Sure wish we could defend ourselves,” Ward said, glancing down at the useless M4, which he was still carrying. “I’d love to just riddle that door with bullets, turn whatever is on the other side into a walking pepper pot, and solve our problem.”

  “Good luck with that. The Gordon were immortal,” Rory said. “All except Medusa, who could be killed.”

  “And what do you want to bet that this one isn’t Medusa,” Decker said.

  “I’m not a betting man,” Ward said, glancing nervously toward the doors. “But I’d say it’s a fair bet we wouldn’t be lucky enough to run across the one monster we could kill.”

  The doors shook again, followed by another round of frustrated hissing.

  “I think it’s time we moseyed along,” Ward said. “That bit of broken wood will not hold those doors much longer, and I’d rather not be here when whatever is on the other side makes an entrance.”

  “Me either,” Rory said. He looked at Emma and Cassie, then gestured toward the stairs. “Ladies first?”

  “You’re a gentleman,” Cassie said, touching his arm briefly as she hurried past.

  “Me next,” Darren said, rushing toward the steps and starting up. “This is one monster I don’t want to see, even if I had a camera.”

  Decker went next, with Garrett and Ward bringing up the rear. They hurried up the steps, taking them two at a time, until they reached the first turn. Decker risked a glance back down toward the doors. They were holding. So far, so good.

  “What exactly is a Gorgon, anyway?” Ward asked as they ascended the second set of steps. “Sounds like some kind of fancy French cheese, to me.”

  “Boy, do I wish it was,” Rory said. “And I’m pretty sure I’m lactose intolerant.”

  “The Gorgon were creatures straight out of Greek mythology,” Emma said. “Some scholars believe their origin to be the symbolic sublimation of an invasion
by hostile forces early in the Greek civilization. Monsters born from a half-forgotten real event.”

  “Whatever was on the other side of those doors is anything but symbolic,” Ward said.

  “Clearly, those scholars were wrong,” Emma replied. “Later traditions stated that three sisters were cursed by the Greek goddess Athena and became the Gorgon. Hideous monsters with snakes for hair who turned anyone that gazed upon them to stone. And get this… According to the legends, the Gorgon lived at the entrance to the underworld.”

  “This underworld theme keeps cropping up,” Cassie said.

  “Because according to the hieroglyphics in that room back there, the Egyptians apparently considered this part of the Amazon jungle to be a place where the world of the living met the underworld. I bet the Greeks did, too. Hence it ended up woven into their mythology.”

  “Fascinating as all this is, can we discuss it later and focus on getting out of here,” Decker said.

  They were almost at the last turn now. The third and final set of steps leading to the upper doorway. Decker resisted the urge to give the barricaded doors at the bottom another glance, and it was just as well. As they started up the third set of steps, there was a sudden crash from below. The Gorgon had broken through.

  55

  With the Gorgon mounting the steps below, Decker and the others reached the upper doors. If these were barricaded like the doors below, they would be in trouble. They were standing on a narrow ledge at the top of the open-sided staircase that ran around the chamber’s outer walls, with barely enough room to move. A retreat down the steps was out of the question. The only other option was a sixty-foot drop straight through the middle of the chamber. They were trapped between a creature whose gaze would petrify them where they stood or a plunge onto the hard stone floor below. Except for that door.

  “We’d better pray these doors open or we’re goners,” Decker said, gripping the bronze door handles. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and pushed.

  Nothing happened. These were just like the lower doors. But then, with a groan of protest, the doors swung a few inches inward.