by Greig Beck
She sighed. “But, I’m afraid, it’s something else that was destroyed. Though it did endure longer than the Library of Alexandria. It survived over a thousand years of earthquakes.”
Albadi bowed again. “You too amaze me, Miss Kovitz.”
“Captain,” she said, and he bowed an apology she waved away. “It’s gone now, of course. It was a fort for a while in the fourteenth century – those earthquakes had eroded it quite a bit.”
Matt took over. “The island, Pharos, is just a barren rock now with a lot of debris below the water – there’s nothing there at all.” He folded his arms and paced. “I’ve been there, seen it. It’s empty, picked clean – little more than an interesting destination for diving enthusiasts.”
“And the reason it’s empty is what’s left is all below the water.” Tania grabbed him as he went to pace by. “Think about it, Matt; what if what we seek is not on the island, but somewhere below it…or inside it?”
“But what’s below the water is mostly rubble,” Matt said. “And the place is crawling with tourists. It’s not exactly hidden in the center of the Amazonian jungle.”
“If I may, Professor.” Albadi gave another small bow as he interrupted. “Maybe they just don’t know where to look…or maybe, if there is an entrance, there are only certain times that it becomes apparent.”
Andy clicked his fingers. “Like at certain times of the day…when the sun is just at the right angle. There’s this huge rock in Australia that looks like it can change shape and colors, depending on time of day. Also some crystalline deposits can reflect light, like halogens, but only for a few minutes a day, and only during certain times of the year.”
Matt spun and pointed at him. “Bingo.” He grinned. “That’s it. And now imagine the effect if the moon was amplified by the celestial convergence.” He clapped once. “It might only be open at night, during the three days of the full moon.”
“Night dive, anyone?” Andy said.
“We’ve got to get there, pronto,” Matt said to Abrams.
“Agreed. We need to find that book.” Abrams exhaled. “Doctor, we can’t use the airport in Syria, and looks like our ride hightailed it. We also can’t get a chopper in, with all the militants on the ground with stinger missiles. Our fallback is to cross into Turkey; can you take us?”
Albadi shook his head. “No.”
Abrams’s eyes became sharp. “Well sir, can you arrange for us to be taken there, as our driver took off like his ass was on fire the moment we stepped out of his van?”
Again Albadi shook his head. “No, I’m sorry.”
“Oh, for fu–” Abrams ground his teeth, his face turning red. He spun away from the Syrian, and then leaned close to Matt. “Talk to him before I shoot him.”
Matt turned to the Doctor, but Albadi must have already anticipated him, and waved him away.
“Major Abrams, it is nothing to do with my cowardice, or bravery, or even trying to extort your money.” He waved an arm around in his library. “I have all the riches for a dozen lifetimes. But whether you know it or not, we are in a war zone. Above us, in the air, you have government planes with orders to shoot down anything that isn’t personally authorized by the President. On the ground, you have too many militias and factions to count or try and negotiate with. In every second house is an informer. Major, you cannot go by road, you cannot fly, you cannot travel by any standard route and chance being seen by the population. You must cross the desert.” Albadi stood beside an old map, gently running fingertips over the images of skulls and djinn…and the warnings. “And even then, it is not a good place now.”
He turned, his head tilted. “I cannot take you, and I cannot give you a driver or arrange one – it would be suicide for him…and most likely for me and my family.” He shrugged. “Already I risk my head just by having you here. I cannot take the chance of being seen to help Westerners.” Once again he waved his arm around at the piles of ancient manuscripts. “If any one of the more aggressive anti-Western militias finds out, they’ll burn everything, behead me, and then search for my relatives. Then they will come for you.” His eyebrows sagged on his forehead. “Everything would be lost. Truly, I am sorry.”
“It’s okay, Doctor Albadi. We’ll find a way across,” Matt said. “I know this was a huge risk to you and we greatly appreciate it. Your assistance has been immeasurable.” He turned to Abrams and raised his eyebrows, before slowly turning back to their host.
“Ah, Dr Albadi, is there anything we can do for you? As a simple gift of thanks for everything you have risked for us?”
Albadi stared for a moment, and then his head bobbed. “Well, yes; my daughter Sabeen is studying economics at Princeton University. She worries about me and wants to come home. She must not. If you could just…keep her there, at least until the country here stabilizes.”
Abrams nodded.
“Of course. She will be safe. You have our word,” Matt said.
“Good.” Albadi closed his eyes and swallowed. “Professor Kearns. I do have an SUV you can take; it is rigged for desert driving, so will suit your requirements. I can give you supplies, and I can also give you directions. But the rest must be up to you.”
“Thank you,” Matt said.
Tania grunted, and looked from Albadi to the map once again. “Dr Albadi, is there anything else you can tell us about the Book, or Abdul Alhazred, or the library? Anything and everything is important now.”
The doctor seemed to think a moment more, and then turned back to the table and the ancient tome’s pages. He leaned over it, sighing. “Much of Alhazred’s work was crazed, nonsensical – it is why he was called the Mad Arab. For many centuries, scholars who read the copies assumed it was all mad scribbling – now, current events mean we know better. Most of his essays, writings and poems have turned out to be truly prophetic. The man was given over to bouts of dark poetry, and perhaps…” He started to turn pages quickly, and then stopped and looked up at Matt.
“If you find the original Al Azif, it will be you who translates it, yes?”
Matt nodded. “When we find it.”
“Then you must steel yourself. As I mentioned, the act of reading the original work is dangerous. It was said to drive men to suicide, make them sick, and even invite the attention of the Old One in their dreams. There is only one way to prepare – read here, and start to absorb the words.” Albadi kept one finger on a page. “Alhazred gives us a clue as to what to expect in your journey. Read it, Professor.”
Matt looked down at the mix of ancient languages. He started to translate. “Hmm, it’s incomplete, but he talks of an underworld…and structures.” He read on. “A city guarded by massive gates, and…” He felt the bloom of pain begin in the center of his brain. He shook his head. He soon felt he had been kicked by a horse, but from the inside. It slid down into his gut like a bomb.
Matt slammed a hand over his mouth and swung around frantically. Albadi anticipated him and lifted a wooden waste bin. Matt grabbed it and vomited explosively into it.
Tania rushed to him, putting an arm over his shoulders. “Jesus, Matt, you okay?”
Matt nodded, feeling embarrassed, but slightly better as soon as he moved away from the book’s pages. He wiped his mouth.
“A city?” Tania said, rubbing Matt’s back. “Is that what Alhazred found, and what we’re looking for?” She let him go, and looked at Albadi with one eyebrow up.
“Perhaps,” Albadi said. “Alhazred says that what you seek is buried deep behind mighty barriers big enough to hold back an army. It is the same as I deciphered. He says it is a city created millions of years before human beings even stood upright.”
Matt breathed deeply, shutting his watery eyes for a moment. “Many of these ancient prophetic works were allegorical. It might not mean a physical city at all. Given Alhazred’s mental state, perhaps he meant something like a mental construct – the walls of his mind and all that.”
“Or nothing but hallucinations from a mix of
hashish and a wild imagination,” Tania added.
“We could hope that. But it might mean exactly what it says,” Albadi said softly. “Only in the original Al Azif will you find the answer.”
“Gates so huge they could hold back an army,” Andy said softly. He looked to Matt. “Hold them back…from our armies going down, or something else coming up?”
Matt nodded. “You know, the planets have been used for both chronological and religious reasons for thousands of years. After all, archeoastronomers are still studying Stonehenge for its possible connections with planetary alignment.”
“The trigger,” Andy said. “The alarm clock event again.”
“Yes.” Matt looked from Tania to Abrams. “Given what we are experiencing, I think we should take everything seriously, and be prepared for it.”
“Agreed,” Abrams said.
Tania nodded, but still looked reluctant. “What about the monsters and djinn in the forbidden deserts?” she asked, sardonically.
Albadi snorted. “I wouldn’t worry so much about djinn as bands of Al-Qaida fighters roaming the outskirts of the cities. You have more to fear from falling into their hands.” His lips compressed momentarily and his eyes moved to Tania. “They torture and behead foreigners, and would take great delight in capturing an American – especially a female American.”
“They can fucking try,” Tania spat.
Abrams growled. “No one is going to be getting captured…Soldiers!”
Berry and Hartogg came back into the room, their eyes wolf like in their intensity.
Matt was glad they were there…and on his side.
“Berry, Hartogg, load em up, we’re moving out in fifteen.” Abrams dismissed them, and with a brief “HUA!” the men spun and then disappeared out the front.
Abrams approached the small doctor, his hand out. “I appreciate everything you have done. Thank you; I hope we see you again.”
Albadi took his hand and shook it. “I hope so too. Good luck, and I pray you are not too late.” The doctor held onto the major’s hand. “There is one more thing. I also pray this is all the raving of a lunatic, but I fear it is not. And if it is not, then the servants of the Old One also exist and will be already here.”
“The Shoggoth?” Matt said.
Matt noticed Albadi’s eyes were fearful, and he wondered what else the man knew that he wasn’t telling them.
“The army behind the gate,” Andy said folding his arms and turning away.
“And you think they are here now?” Matt asked.
Albadi nodded. “These things were the slaves and servants of the Old Ones. They built the giant cities, gathered food for them, fed them, cared for them…and protected them.”
Abrams exhaled forcefully. “Can they be killed?”
Albadi shrugged. “Are they even alive as we understand it?”
Andy spun back to them. “Well, that’s just great.” He went to turn away again and then stopped dead. “Hey, you said they fed the Old Ones. You mean they’ll feed them us?”
Albadi’s face was blank. “They feed them meat. And in this age, man is the most abundant food source. So yes, Mr Bennet, they will feed them us.”
Andy groaned. “Frank, my partner, was grabbed by something under the earth…in the Iowa earth-drop.” He shook his head, eyes downcast. “From what I understand, all the holes, once the land drops, anyone unfortunate enough to be inside the drop area is never seen again – they vanish.” He winced and rubbed his forehead. “Oh God, I feel sick.”
Matt narrowed his eyes. “Looks like food gathering has already commenced.”
Tania came over and placed a hand on Andy’s shoulder. “We need to make sure this stops, now.”
Abrams lifted his voice. “First thing we need to do is stop spooking ourselves.” He looked at his watch. “We’ve got a long way to go, and all over potentially hostile terrain.” He looked Andy and Matt in the eyes. “As civilians I can’t order you to come with us. But, I think we’ll need you – both of you.”
Matt turned to look at the mountains of old books. Staying made sense, and he could spend his time exploring ancient works that he might never get to see again. A feeling of comfort spread through him as he looked over the piles of ancient books. Staying made a lot of sense. Going with Abrams made no sense at all. He’d seen what happened when people got involved in these insane military-type missions – they died, and damned horribly.
Abrams must have noticed Matt’s wandering focus. “I think untold numbers of lives will depend on us. What I’ve seen, and now what I’ve heard, leads me to believe that a lot is at stake…perhaps everything we hold dear.” He stared hard. “We…need…you.”
Matt sighed. “Okay.” He met Abrams’s eyes. “Okay, I’m in.”
Andy nodded as well, anger in his eyes. “Let’s fucking do this.”
Chapter 9
Bristol, England
Jessica pushed the pram along Coronation Street, and inhaled deeply. The crepe myrtles were in flower and their vanilla scent filled her nose with perfume and her soul with happiness. She stopped briefly under one, letting her eyes travel from its base to its tips – she always loved the trees’ magnificent streaked bark and bunches of small, tight flowers on the end of the branches.
This was her dream job – being a live-in nanny for a prominent surgeon and his wife. Trips abroad, good pay, and Jeremy, an angel to care for. She breathed in the scent of the flowers again and peered through their bouquets to the River Avon, still a little muddy from some recent rain. It was a good-sized watercourse, broad, deep, and with small ferries punting along its rippling surface.
The pram wheels squeaked, but other than that, it was still library-quiet that early in the morning. There was a single jogger and the odd cruising taxicab, but the rest of the up-market street was hers. Looking across the road, the compact two-story houses were jammed in tight together – not a lot of land, but an expensive price tag for a view over the water. The block she lived in on Coronation was one of the biggest, at about two thousand square feet, and bordered Camden Road, Osborne and Allington. But the block more like a village, really, she thought, just as a curtain of cloud pulled back to let in golden shafts of morning light.
The first vibration tickled the soles of Jessica’s feet, and she looked back over her shoulder expecting to see some large lorry approaching – there was nothing.
The next sound was different, and ugly. The wet thump was from a fat, gray pigeon as it dive-bombed into the grass of a front yard in an explosion of feathers and gore.
Ew, she thought, pursing her lips. She thanked her lucky stars that Jeremy hadn’t seen the unfortunate bird’s accident, but then shrieked as another bird struck the ground, then another and another. Soon starlings as well as pigeons were raining down and battering the houses, lawns, and the pavement. She grimaced at the sight, as the birds weren’t just falling from the sky, but actually flying into the ground as if they couldn’t see it, or were determined to strike it as hard as they could – it seemed as though they made war on the Earth.
Jessica felt frozen with indecision. There was no cover for hundreds of yards, and the tree she sheltered under was hardly thick enough to act as an umbrella against the feathered onslaught. She reached forward to pull the small canvas canopy over Jeremy, who was now sitting up, his mouth open in a single-toothed grin of delight as he watched the brown and gray birds fly into the grass and cement around them.
Jessica felt the vibrations again, the pavement shimmying under her feet, but this time there came a small jump as if everything raised and fell an inch. Car alarms started all over the city, and, looking along Coronation Street, it seemed that the vibrations, the jumping, and the birds ended at Camden, as if there were a fence of calmness just a few hundred yards further on.
Go, go, go, she thought as purpose finally jolted her into action. She sucked in a deep breath and began to run, the pram out in front, rolling over the bodies of birds and the dark cracks opening i
n the pavement. When she was within a hundred feet of the street corner, the ground lifted again, higher and higher, rising up as if there were a huge bubble of gas underneath them.
She started to weep. Her muscles burned and her breath became hot and tortured. She gagged as a foul gas belched up from below. She knew what was coming; she had heard the whispered rumours, seen the stories that usually vanished as quickly as they appeared. No one had believed: no one really cared. They’d all just continued with their lives – part of her mind took a moment to look at that unbelievable fact in something like wonder, or disgust, or both.
Whatever bubble had blown up below them suddenly burst. They were on a slope now, running down a hill of broken concrete and torn grass with just a few dozen feet to go to safety. Then the land started to fall.
Jessica knew she would never make it, but there was one thing she knew she had to do – nannies were more than just nursemaids, they were carers, playmates, best friends, and bodyguards, prepared to do anything for their charges. Jessica launched herself, pushing out her arms, flinging the pram forward, its large rubber wheels spinning as it raced down the slope, travelling at about twenty miles per hour toward the stable ground so close.
She fell flat on her stomach, but raised her head, her eyes wet as the ground beneath her dropped. Her last vision as she fell into the pit was of the pram slowing to a stop on the stable ground: safe.
Chapter 10
Mableton, Georgia, Atlanta outskirts
“Kroen, just…wait here…and leave the engine running.” Charles Drummond wanted to be away quickly, as he knew he’d be uncomfortable. The street, the building, and the Father, all made him feel small and uneasy. He’d been given much, and promised so much more; still the Order was unsettling even for a high-level acolyte like himself.