Eden Relics (A Zac Woods novel #1): Author royalties for Cancer Research

by N Williams

  Zac had no intention of letting Fenwick get away with the relic. After what they’d all been through to get it he was determined not to let it fall into the hands of anyone who would profit from it in one way or another. But he had to play the next hand carefully, or everything would be blown wide open.

  ‘The bag… NOW!’ Fenwick was losing it. ‘If you don’t throw that fucking thing up here now…I’m going to shoot Sally! First I’ll shoot her in the leg and then I’ll use her nipples for target practice. You know I can do it, Zac.’

  The sound of the other helicopter’s engine was getting closer. Zac couldn’t see the aircraft. It had risen up and away from them, back over the ridge far off to the left of the river and the castle.

  Zac had made up his mind. He was hoping Fenwick would be distracted by his actions, just long enough to grab Sally and pull her over the edge again. The cliff sides were sheer at the top but gradually curved towards the bottom, a lot like the wall of a dam. It was risky. Zac knew they wouldn’t stand much chance of surviving the fall, but it was the only option he had left.

  He swung the bag back and forward, gently at first, gradually building up the momentum as if to throw it to Fenwick. On the last swing, Zac threw the bag up and over his shoulder, high into the air, and over the edge of the cliff.

  Fenwick was stunned. Zac reached out to Sally to grab her and pull her to the edge, when he heard the noise of the helicopter engine as the aircraft nose shot into view above the head of Fenwick. The man didn’t have time to react. The left landing skid of the chopper struck the top of his head and knocked Fenwick off the cliff.

  The helicopter wobbled as the pilot regained control and rose up once more above the cliff.

  Blood splashed against Gates’ boots as Fenwick’s head smashed against the ledge as his body crumpled. Gates cringed as he heard the retired policeman’s head crack like an egg. The man was dead before the rest of his body rolled over and followed the holdall down to the raging floodwaters of the river below.

  ‘Neat. Well, that’s a turn up for the book, Zac. But all you’ve achieved is to delay the bastards for a couple of days while Sir Eddie gets his goons to recover the bag, and that will piss me off – big time,’ said Gates.

  Zac let go of Sally. He couldn’t understand why Sir Eddie had instructed his pilot to put his own life in danger by knocking Fenwick off the cliff.

  His cell phone began to ring. He fished the vibrating device out of his pocket. He pressed a short cut on the keyboard.

  The metallic voice was no surprise to Zac.

  It was Stockwell.

  ‘I’m sorry about that, Mr Woods. I honestly had no idea that Fenwick was working against me. I never wanted you harmed. All I wanted was the relics to extract the DNA.’

  Zac stood silent for a moment before he replied. ‘So what are you going to do now?’

  ‘Looks like I’ll have to send a team to recover the bag. You must understand that I have to stop the Church Alliance from destroying it.’

  ‘So you mean to say that you have nothing to do with those nutters?’

  ‘Not anymore. My association with them ended as soon as I discovered what they intended to do with the relics. I couldn’t allow them to be erased from the face of the earth.’

  ‘Well I’m not so sure that it wouldn’t be a good idea. Is the truth really worth the loss of hope and faith?’

  ‘That’s surprising coming from you, Mr Woods. I thought you believed in the truth?’

  ‘So did I. I’ve been surprised by many things over the last few days, none more so than you knocking Fenwick off the cliff.’

  ‘I’ve never been your enemy, Mr Woods. Indeed, I even sent two of my people to watch over you.’

  Things started to fall into place. ‘The man and woman with the grenades?’

  ‘Yes. They weren’t meant to rough you up at the castle, Mr Woods. They were supposed to follow you to retrieve the diary. The grenades were just a contingency plan. As it happens, that wasn’t necessary. The relics are probably lost, damaged beyond hope.’

  ‘Glad to hear it! So, if you’re truly such a good guy…how about a lift back to the castle?’

  CHAPTER 78

  Within minutes, the helicopter had made a tricky landing near the crash site on the mountaintop. Zac noticed the company logo on the door - a wooden staff entwined by a single snake. It looked like the logo used on ambulances - but something wasn’t correct. As soon as the door had closed, the helicopter was back in the air and began the short flight to a field in the grounds of the castle in the valley below.

  As the aircraft rose above the quarry, Gates began to laugh. ‘Look, down there.’ He pointed to the entrance to the secret tunnel next to the old station. Filing up the steps from the cave below was a troop of police tactical firearms officers. They stopped and looked up at the chopper as it buzzed overhead. Zac grinned and waved at the leader he recognised to be Detective Inspector Boyce. The wave he received back was less than enthusiastic and had less than the full complement of fingers displayed in salute. They would have a few weeks of clearing up when they discovered the mess in the quarry, Zac thought.

  Old man Stockwell looked as if he had lost a few years. Zac sat in the rear with Sir Eddie and Sally as Gates rode up front with the pilot. Sir Eddie really did look as if he had managed to put his body clock into reverse somehow.

  The old man also seemed buoyant and intent on explaining his involvement with the relics. ‘I became involved in the Church Alliance many years ago. I was brought up in a strong Christian household and had never doubted my faith.

  The Alliance was formed in the last few years of the nineteenth century, after the relics were first discovered in Egypt. Madame Patti became the first head of the group, although that didn’t last long. She had the money to be able to organise a group of like-minded individuals who were intent on keeping the relics safe.’ The old man shook his head. ‘But others in the group had other plans and the tension within the Alliance led her to cut her ties with them. As far as I’m aware, she never told anyone about the last resting place of Adam and Eve. Perhaps it would have been better if the things had been destroyed at the outset, but no true believer would ever want to be held responsible for such sacrilege.

  ‘The group consisted of many prominent members of Edwardian society,’ he continued. ‘They were happy that they had secured the relics and brought them to the UK. They were pacified for as long as they remained safe in their hiding place, and away from the public eye. For the first couple of years, the meetings were more like social gatherings, and as the old members died off the new ones didn’t have the same commitment to the cause. Indeed, the story of the formation of the Alliance and the reason for its existence became shrouded in myth as many of these things do… just look at the Masons. But one of the objects recovered from the pot in Egypt was lost in transit and remains so today.’ Stockwell gazed out the window and seemed to lose himself for a moment. ‘This has remained the focus of a small group of descendants within the Alliance and is something potentially…wonderful.’

  Mac was sitting on the edge of his seat. This was a conspiracy theorist’s dream. ‘You don’t seem to be convinced.’

  Stockwell blinked rapidly, pulling himself back to the present. ‘Because I’m not. The object has the potential to do marvellous things but also, in the wrong hands, could wreak havoc.’

  ‘What is this object?’ Sally asked.

  ‘A stick.’

  ‘A stick? Why would a stick be so important?’

  ‘Although it looks like a common walking stick it’s far from being common, Ms Walker.’

  ‘What the hell is it then?’ Gates was losing patience, and a good meal and a bottle of wine was urgently needed.

  ‘It was a staff taken from the fabled tree of life or tree of knowledge.’

  ‘You’re shittin’ me,’ Gates laughed.

  ‘I… shit you not, Mr Gates. It’s claimed that the staff is the legendary Rod of Asclepius.’r />
  Sally looked shocked. ‘Wait a minute. How can the rod be linked to Adam and Eve? The Asclepius legend is Greek.’

  Stockwell smiled, pleased at the woman’s knowledge of the legend. ‘True, but remember that there is a case to argue that all legends are based within some long lost fact - and if you look at the Greek symbol…’

  ‘The one used on the doors of ambulances in some countries,’ Sally interrupted.

  ‘…That’s partially right,’ Stockwell continued. ‘It shows a staff with two intertwined snakes and wings. But the symbol used mainly in North America is actually wrong. It shows the Caduceus - the staff of the god Hermes. But Asclepius is the deity associated with healing and medicinal arts.’

  ‘So that’s the logo on the side of the chopper?’ Zac added.

  ‘Exactly, Mr Woods! The Rod is believed to be capable of healing or destroying, depending upon who possesses it.’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ Gates interrupted. ‘You said heal AND destroy?’

  ‘That’s right. It seems that there are many interpretations of the symbol. It’s believed that it denotes the balance between life and death, but I believe the legend is derived from an even earlier event in our history – a defining moment when man was cast out of the Garden of Eden.’

  ‘Bollocks!’ Gates scoffed.

  ‘Wait… and hear me out. Even you probably know the story of Adam and Eve, Mr Gates.’

  Gates nodded his head, not sure whether he should be offended.

  ‘Well, we are told that Eve took an apple from the tree of knowledge, or the tree of life, and bit from it, all because she was tempted to do so by the serpent.’

  ‘And women have been second-class citizens ever since,’ Mac chipped in.

  Sally smiled and nodded her head. ‘I’m getting to like you, Mac.’

  ‘We are also led to believe that Adam then went on to live for over nine hundred years, fathering Cain and Abel and thereby being connected to everyone that came after. How and why did he live so long?’

  ‘Because the time scale used is confused… or recorded incorrectly,’ Sally suggested.

  ‘But what if it wasn’t? What if Adam left the Garden with the branch the apple was plucked from? A branch from a special tree?’

  Mac was on fire. ‘You mean something alien, don’t you?’

  Stockwell shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

  ‘He means fucking aliens,’ Mac shouted excitedly.

  ‘Did you take a look at the relics, Mr Woods?’ Stockwell stared into Zac’s eyes, looking for any indication of dishonesty.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And what did they look like?’

  Zac thought for a moment.

  ‘Fucking grotesque,’ Gates said.

  The helicopter landed below the castle, Zac grateful for the distraction. This was getting out of control.

  ‘So, poor old Ben and Rachel were expendable?’ stated Zac, changing the subject.

  ‘Not in my view. I tried to secure the diary through eBay. I offered a large sum to ensure there’d be no need to secure it any other way. They certainly didn’t need to die, but I’m afraid the Alliance - and it seems others on the inside with their own agenda - felt otherwise.’

  ‘Own agenda? Like you, you mean?’

  ‘I suppose I have to concede that point to you, Mr Woods. But my intentions have always been honourable. I had two of my people watch Rachel. They saw the Alliance goons chase her and post the envelopes. I’m guessing you received one of those?’ He looked to Zac for confirmation but continued, unable to read Zac’s poker face. ‘My people were told to watch her and to take the diary. But I’m afraid they were unable to interfere without blowing their cover and the others got to her first.’

  ‘It also seems that I was at a disadvantage from the outset. My "faithful" long-serving assistant, Bradley, betrayed me. He was passing information to the Alliance all along.’

  ‘But where does Handel come into all this?’

  ‘Ah, yes, you mean the man I was introduced to as Mr Holder. Another misjudgement on my part, I’m afraid. I hired him because Farrell recommended him. I thought he’d act fairly and help me discover the whereabouts of the relics. You see, I knew the tales and the legends. I also knew that they were hidden in the Swansea Valley, but again, I had no specific location for either of them.’

  ‘Farrell must have been the contact Handel told me about.’

  ‘It seems we have both been misled, Mr Woods. It’s hard to find honest employees these days. Which brings me to my offer.’

  Zac looked closely at the old man. He didn’t think he was lying: he could have finished them all off at the top of the mountain. But one thing still bothered him. ‘What about this Alliance? We’ve heard about them, but nobody seems to know anything.’

  ‘True.’ Stockwell rubbed his brittle hands. ‘They will always be a problem. They won’t go away. They’re a dangerous group because they believe they are right, even though their own church leaders have outlawed them. They also have the financial backing and resources to rival my own. I’m afraid we lost the chance to get inside information. It has been many years since I had dealings with them and even then I had no direct contact with any of the leaders. I believe Mr Holder - I mean Mr Fenwick - could have provided that.’

  ‘Didn’t you suspect Farrell’s intentions?’

  ‘Not for a moment, not even when he failed to call in this morning. I received a call from Fenwick telling me we had to mobilise and get the choppers down here fast. He told me he believed Bradley Farrell was in trouble. Of course, I did what he asked. Bradley was good to me. He came to me many years ago, a troubled man. He had wanted to be a priest, but I think his love of material things always took precedence. That didn’t bother me. I pay well for work well done.’

  Zac nodded in silence. It made sense.

  ‘I am fascinated by history, Mr Woods. I have been a champion of the arts and patron of a number of charities, but nothing fills me with more pleasure than understanding our past. I believe that we can understand ourselves better by understanding where we all come from. So, I would like to offer you and your friends some employment. I understand that both you and Mr Gates are retired and that Miss Walker is now unemployed. You are now also aware that the Rod of Asclepius is still missing and is out there somewhere. I have no doubt as to its powers. Even Adelina herself experienced it. She sustained a deep cut to her face whilst out in Egypt, and it healed almost immediately when she held the staff. It is documented in her diary, and there is anecdotal evidence from conversations overheard between the Carre brothers - whom I am sure you also know of. Indeed, although the wound healed, Adelina ensured all photos of her were taken of one side of her face after that incident.’

  ‘But where could it be?’ asked Mac.

  ‘That’s where my offer might help. I wonder if you’d be interested in working for me? I would like to pay you to recover the legendary Rod of Asclepius.’

  CHAPTER 79

  Sally awoke to find Zac dressed in a pair of knee-length shorts and a sweatshirt.

  ‘Going for a run with a backpack and wearing steel toecap boots?’ she laughed.

  ‘It’s a habit I don’t want to break. Keeps my calf muscles in tune,’ he said. ‘Be back in an hour or so. Thought I’d take a run over the mountains and soak up the view.’

  ‘I thought you had a bad back? You must be mad, going for a run when you could be curled up in bed next to me,’ Sally pouted.

  ‘It’s a tough choice. The doctor’s injection in the arse worked wonders. I don’t suppose it’ll stay pain free for long, but I’ll make the most of it while I can. And anyway, if you want to continue to worship my lithe and muscular physique you’ll have to put up with my slightly odd exercise routine.’

  Sally laughed and curled up under the sheets. ‘Ooh - this is so lovely.’

  Zac slipped his hand under the duvet and tickled Sally’s exposed foot. ‘See you later. I’ll be back in time for breakfast.’

>   Sally drifted back off to sleep.

  *

  Zac arrived back at the castle just as Sally and Gates were sitting down for breakfast. The castle rooms were full of police officers drafted in to sort out the mess on the mountain, and the breakfast room had been moved to a large glass and oak-framed conservatory that normally doubled as a function room.

  Zac’s legs were aching and felt wobbly as he descended the wooden staircase to the limestone-tiled floor.

  A large table had been set up near the far wall and was covered in a selection of hot and cold foods.

  Zac sat next to Sally and squeezed her knee. ‘Hi, Sally. Hope you don’t mind my armpits. They’re a little ripe, but I haven’t had time for a shower; wanted to catch a bit of nosh first.’

  Sally made a mock grimace. ‘Urgh, you smelly git. Don’t stand too near the eggs or you’ll turn them green.’

  ‘Green eggs and ham. Dr Seuss would be proud of me.’

  The dining room was packed with police officers, and it seemed that everyone had chosen the same time to queue for the food. Zac stood in line behind Sally and Gates. The big man filled two plates with a full English, and Sally used her diet to justify her meagre bowl of muesli - Gates called it rabbit droppings - whilst Zac did a smaller version of Gates’ full-fat selection.

  At the table, Sally was clearly still disappointed at losing the relics. ‘It’s just a shame that everything Rachel died for, even if she didn’t know their true origins, has now ended up in the wrong hands after all.’

  Gates nodded. ‘We’re not sure who’ll get to the stuff first. It may end up in the right hands in the end.’

  Zac just sat and smiled smugly.

  ‘What are you looking so pleased about?’ said Sally.