Staff of Judea

by Alex Archer

  They agreed to wait it out. When the time came Annja would go first, the rope still tied about her waist. Roux would wait a moment, letting a few feet of rope play out between them, and then he would follow behind her. Since Annja had already traversed the route twice, it would be up to her to locate the tunnel mouth and guide them in.

  Rather than take the chance that their packs would get caught on something en route, they agreed to tie them to the end of the rope and let them sink. When they made it out the other side, they could haul them along in their wake.

  By the time they had the plan all figured out and the packs tied off on the end of the rope, the bloody water had risen to just below their noses.

  “See you on the other side,” she said, then ducked below the surface before Roux had a chance to respond.

  Chapter 36

  Thank heavens for waterproof packs. Annja stripped off her soaked clothes and dropped them in a sodden pile on the floor. Somewhere behind her, she heard Roux doing the same.

  They’d managed to make it through the tunnel before running out of air or fluid to swim through. The latter was something she hadn’t even thought about until she’d burst through the tunnel into the room on the other end and watched the last of the water disappearing into the opening she’d emerged from. She realized that Roux was about to be left hanging in midair when the water around him disappeared and so she scrambled out of the hold and started pulling on the rope to drag him higher as the seconds ticked past. In the end she’d been left to brace herself against the other edge while he pulled himself hand over hand up the rope.

  They’d looked like something out of a horror movie gone wrong.

  She’d started stripping off her clothes immediately and it had taken ten seconds for Roux to follow suit. Ever the gentlemen, he’d turned his back.

  She drew the combat knife she’d brought along and used the spine of the blade like a squeegee, sluicing her body as best she could. She used a little of the water she’d brought along to clean her face and hands with the camp cloth.

  She couldn’t exactly say she was clean when she was finished, but she certainly felt better. She dried herself with the cloth and then pulled on her change of clothes. She grimaced at the squishing sound her foot made as she slipped it back into her saturated boot, but without another pair of shoes she had no choice.

  “Are you decent?” Roux asked.

  When she assured him that she was, they turned to face each other. Annja took one look and started laughing. Roux looked ridiculous, with his white hair and beard red in the spots he’d missed and pink in those where he’d gotten most of the liquid off. He still had splotches on his skin, the tip of one ear and on his left arm. Annja knew she must look equally ridiculous.

  “Perhaps I’ll let you choose which passage to take next time,” Roux said, which only set them both off a second time.

  Annja had just straightened up when she saw a frog hop across the stone floor a few feet behind Roux.

  It was a small frog, no more than two inches long, a brilliant yellow that stuck out against the red-stained stones.

  Annja couldn’t believe what she was seeing and for a moment couldn’t say a word. She could only stare at the frog as it hopped closer.

  And closer still.

  “Where the heck did they come from?” Roux said, pointing.

  Afraid to look but more afraid not to, Annja followed his pointing finger. Her light flashed across a wave of yellow frogs, just like the first, that were advancing toward them from somewhere near the edge of the room. She brought her head up, letting the light play across the rear wall.

  It was studded with hundreds of little holes, warrens really, and emerging from them were more of the yellow frogs.

  Roux leaned toward the nearest of them, and Annja nearly had a heart attack.

  “Don’t touch them!” she yelled, more sharply than she intended.

  Roux straightened immediately. He saw the expression on her face and said, “You don’t think…?”

  “I do. If those aren’t golden dart frogs, I’m a rhesus monkey.”

  Roux took a healthy step away from the frog and closer to her. “That’s not possible,” he said, though his actions suggested differently. “The dart frog is native to South America. It is way too hot and dry for them to survive here.”

  One of the frogs jumped too close for comfort. There was a silvery flash and the frog was split in two. Annja pulled her arm back, but didn’t put away the sword.

  “I don’t have a clue how it’s possible, but I know a dart frog when I see one.” She didn’t say what they both knew; the Phyllobates terribilis, or golden dart frog, excreted a deadly toxin through its skin. It made puffer fish toxin look like a mild irritant. One touch and it was all over.

  More of the little creatures hopped closer and Annja’s sword flashed again. And again.

  She was drawing back for a short stab to take out a fourth when the connections suddenly flared in her mind.

  Water into blood.

  A wave of poisonous frogs.

  The staff of Aaron.

  “The ten plagues of Egypt.”

  “What?” Roux used the toe of his boot to flip a frog halfway across the room. It did little good; a moment later another hopped forward.

  Annja’s head snapped up as she refocused on what was happening around her and her arm thrust and slashed and jabbed, opening up space around them to buy a few moments.

  “According to the Bible, ten plagues were called down upon Egypt when the Pharaoh refused to let the Israelites leave. The first two involved all the rivers in Egypt turning to blood and the second was a plague of poisonous frogs that infested the countryside.”

  Annja scooped up her pack, shook it to dislodge the frog that had decided it made a good rest stop and slung it over her shoulder. “We need to get out of here, Roux, and we need to do it before things get worse.”

  “For once we’re in one hundred percent agreement.”

  Together they began to make their way across the room, toward the door they could see on the far wall. Like in the room they’d left behind, this door was closed, but Annja was desperately hoping that they could find a way to open it even though they’d had no luck with the other.

  The universe wouldn’t frown on them like that twice in one day, now would it?

  As they made their way across the room, the frogs seemed drawn to them. As if attracted by their heat or their smell. Annja was doing the best she could to poke and slash the frogs back.

  Roux reached the door first and began hunting for a way to open it. He ran his hands over the stone, searching.

  While he was doing that, Annja was holding off the frogs—none had gotten through yet, a real testament to her skill with her blade—but it was only a matter of time before the frogs overwhelmed them. A glance at the back wall showed more and more of the yellow snouts emerging from the recesses there.

  “A little faster, Roux.”

  “I’m trying, Annja, I’m trying.”

  “Well, try harder!”

  He muttered something underneath his breath in French that she missed.

  Probably a good thing.

  There were hundreds of the little yellow terrors by now, with more emerging every minute. They were jumping all over one another and the floor looked like it had become nothing more than a seething mass of living tissue slowly hopping in her direction.

  Annja was using the tip of her sword to stab those that drew too close and the flat of the blade to swat the ones that tried to jump at them. Her sword flashed over and over again, the blade now thick with blood and guts.

  Concerned she wouldn’t be able to get them all, she drew her commando knife and began going at them with two blades instead of one. She wanted to scream, but clamped her mout
h shut.

  Suddenly Roux cried, “Got it!” and a loud grinding noise filled the room as the door slid slowly to the right, revealing another chamber beyond. Roux reached back and dragged Annja through the doorway after him, trying to put as much distance as possible between them and the frogs.

  As they stumbled forward, they belatedly realized that they had emerged not only into a well-lit chamber but one that was a far cry from empty.

  Guns swiveled in their direction and the familiar voice of Grimes said, “Well, well, well. What have we here?”

  Chapter 37

  Grimes just couldn’t believe his luck.

  After entering the fortress proper through the doorway chosen by Professor Yellin, they’d spent the past twenty minutes wandering through a series of passages that seemed to double and triple back on one another without really leading anywhere. The professor had assured him they were on the right track, but Grimes had been having second thoughts about the wisdom of trusting the man and had ordered the group take a five-minute break while he sorted it out in his head. He’d been sitting there, going over his options, when a section of the wall had ground open and Annja and a strange man stumbled out. No sooner had they cleared the threshold than the door slid shut again, sealing them on this side of the barrier and whatever was clearly chasing them on the other.

  “If it isn’t the great archaeologist herself, Annja Creed.” Grimes studied her in mock deference. “And, look, she brought a friend. Is that… Could it be… Yes, I think it is…Roux.”

  “Kill them,” Connolly said.

  “You’ll never find the staff if you kill her.” The professor was on his feet, standing in front of the other two prisoners. He had a determined look on his face, which caused Grimes to laugh.

  “Look around you, Professor.” Grimes extended his arms for emphasis. “We’ve found the fortress. We don’t need you to guide us anymore.”

  “Is that what you think? My Lord, but you’re a fool. Why don’t you ask Annja what happens when you choose the wrong door around here?”

  Grimes noticed the blood splattered on Annja for the first time.

  “If you expect my continued cooperation,” Ephraim went on, “you will bring Ms. Creed and her companion with us.”

  Grimes opened his mouth to argue and was surprised when Connolly cut him off.

  “Do as he says, Grimes. We’re wasting time.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  There was no sense arguing. He could always kill them later if they got in his way. Connolly, too, for that matter.

  He’d seen Annja pull a sword out of thin air twice now and he had no intention of allowing it to happen a third time.

  “Beck, tie Annja’s hands behind her back. Make sure the rope’s good and tight. Douglas, search them and their bags. Take anything useful, leave the rest behind.”

  Grimes got the rest of their group on their feet. Fresh flares were activated and they set out once more. Annja and Roux were put in the middle of the marching order just behind the professor. Grimes gave Gardner a break from point and moved Daniels up to that position instead, wanting the man at the front to be fresh and on the lookout for these traps the professor had warned of.

  They passed through several empty chambers and Grimes was starting to think the professor was wasting his time when they walked through another doorway and emerged into a massive cavern. The roof soared somewhere high above, well out of sight, while in front of them gaped an enormous chasm that bisected their route of travel. A thin finger of stone reached out across the gap to the other side of the cavern where the passage they’d been following continued onward in the same direction. The ceiling soared upward, as well, disappearing into the darkness high above their heads.

  Grimes frowned. He didn’t like the look of this place. The bridge had clearly been designed to intimidate and he had to admit it was having the desired effect. The path was worn smooth with the passage of countless feet, indicating that it was safe to cross. That by no means removed his anxiety. There were no railings—nothing to hold on to. Nothing to use to keep from falling if one’s feet slipped out from under in the middle of the crossing.

  And if they fell…

  Grimes leaned over the edge and dropped the flare he held. He watched it fall for what seemed like forever. In the end, it traveled so far that it winked out of sight. He had a very strong suspicion that it still hadn’t hit bottom at that point.

  If they fell, they were dead. It was as simple as that.

  Grimes stepped back from the edge and walked over to the professor. He pointed across the bridge. “You’re positive that’s the way we have to go?”

  “Yes.”

  Grimes studied the man’s face carefully, looking for some trace of deception. It seemed the man was telling the truth.

  “All right,” Grimes announced to the group. “We’re going across that bridge. Single file, three feet between each individual. If you slip, you’re on your own. I won’t have one clumsy idiot taking the rest of the party with them.”

  “You need to untie Annja,” Roux spoke up. “She’s going to need her hands free for balance or she’s never going to make it across.”

  Grimes laughed. “Not my problem. If you want to help her, that’s your business, but her hands stay tied.”

  * * *

  WHILE GRIMES AND COMPANY had their attention on the rock bridge before them, Annja tested her bonds. Beck had tied them pretty tightly, but with a little time, she might be able to loosen them enough to do something about them.

  For now, though, she was out of luck.

  “I’ll be right here behind you,” Roux said in a whisper. “If you have trouble, I’ll help.”

  Annja shook her head. “No, don’t. I won’t be able to catch myself if I slip and all I’ll do is end up pulling you over with me. Someone has to keep Connolly from getting the staff.”

  Even as she said it, she knew Connolly wasn’t her biggest concern anymore. Yes, they needed to keep the staff out of his hands, but more importantly, they needed to keep it out of Grimes’s. Connolly was power-hungry, but on closer observation it seemed that the real voice behind the throne was Grimes. He was just as power-hungry as Connolly, it seemed, but when it came to ruthlessness, Grimes topped Connolly by a good half mile. The staff in Connolly’s hands would be bad enough. The staff in Grimes’s hands would be infinitely worse.

  “Time to move,” Grimes called, and the group got under way once more.

  Douglas stepped out onto the footbridge. This close to the end it was several yards wide and provided a nicely stable platform to stand on. Douglas had no problem with it and waved the others out behind him as he continued across.

  One by one, the others followed.

  Soon everyone was on the makeshift footbridge, a few feet apart. Annja noted that the rock underfoot had been polished smooth and care had to be taken with each step.

  Before long she’d worked out an odd kind of shuffle that moved her along at a decent pace but kept her feet firmly in touch with the ground, for the most part. The group was roughly in the middle of the span when Annja heard it.

  A faint, buzzing sound that seemed to be rising from below them.

  She slowed, then stopped, peering over the edge into the darkness, trying to see what might be causing the sound.

  “Careful…” Roux warned from a few feet back as he, too, came to a stop.

  “Do you hear that?” Annja asked.

  “Hear what?”

  “That…noise.”

  Roux listened.

  “What’s the holdup?” Grimes called out.

  Annja and Roux ignored him.

  “You mean that buzzing sound?”

  It was growing louder and now some of the others must have heard it, too. Several of them began looking a
round, trying to find the source.

  Annja’s thoughts whirled as she tried to remember all the plagues of Egypt, especially plague number three. She could almost hear Sister Mary Margaret’s voice droning in the back of her mind, something about…insects?

  The sound was so loud now that it was impossible to miss.

  Annja peered into the darkness, trying to see.

  Something was moving down there.

  A great cloud of insects erupted out of the darkness, swarming upward. They flashed passed the bewildered group on the bridge, their numbers so thick that they blotted out the light of the headlamp Annja wore and dimmed the powerful hand lanterns Hamilton and Gardner carried. For a moment Annja was lost in a sea of bugs, their humming filling her ears, the brush of their bodies against her own like a caress, and then they were gone. The living cloud rose swiftly into the darkness high above.

  Something crawled across her skin. She dipped her head, trying to bring her light to bear on her own body, and in its glow saw a few straggling gnats still making their way across her. She shook herself, trying to knock them loose, and mostly succeeded.

  She looked for Ephraim ahead of her and then for Roux behind. Seeing them still standing on the bridge brought a sigh of relief. All of the others seemed to have gotten through the experience intact, as well.

  A plague of gnats.

  “Keep moving!” a man called from behind her, Grimes, if she was to guess. She started walking forward once more, following Ephraim.

  They hadn’t taken more than ten steps before the droning sound began again, though this time it was different—louder, deeper. It was the growl of a Harley compared to the whine of a Japanese racing bike and the sound sent a shiver through Annja’s bones as she realized that whatever was coming this time was going to be worse. The gnats had been there and gone again before they could do any damage. But even something twice their size, never mind bigger, could be a real problem for them out on this little sliver of stone.

  She glanced over the edge, wary of overbalancing, and saw a black mass in the darkness below.