The Last Priest

by Amy Cross

  “Well, you're welcome to stay for as long as you want,” her grandmother told her, opening the back door and stepping inside. “I'm going to get dinner on. You know how Grandad gets if food's late.”

  Smiling, Charley ate another marshmallow and watched Walter's attempts to get closer to the sprinkler.

  “You can do it!” she called out, putting another marshmallow into her mouth. “Go on, it's only -”

  Stopping suddenly, she realized that this marshmallow was much tangier than the others, and as she continued to chew she felt a harsh, bitter taste in her mouth. Spitting the marshmallow out into the palm of her hand, she saw that its center was black and moist. Once she'd wiped the remains onto a plate, she took another marshmallow from the pile and slipped it into her mouth.

  “What the hell?” she whispered, realizing that this one was even worse. She immediately spat it back out and saw that it had become a kind of viscous black lump of slime.

  Taking another marshmallow, she tore it open and saw to her relief that this one looked normal. She popped it into her mouth, only to find a moment later that the taste was even worse. Spitting the remains out onto the decking, she looked down and saw that yet again the sweet had become a kind of thick, black gunk. Just as she was about to turn away, however, she realized that the gunk seemed to be moving slightly, and a few seconds later she felt more of the damn stuff on her tongue, as if another marshmallow had managed to get into her mouth somehow.

  Spitting out more of the foul paste, she got to her feet, but her mouth seemed to be filling again, faster than she could get it all out. She took a few steps forward and then leaned on the railing that ran around the porch. Taking a moment to try to steady herself, she bent over and spat out more of the blank gunk, then more, and finally she realized that no matter how much she spat out, it never seemed to be enough. Her mouth was filling faster than ever, and the foul taste was getting worse. The gunk seemed to be taking a new form, too, becoming more solid, filled with pointed little shapes, almost like tiny legs -

  ***

  Opening her eyes suddenly, she stared up at the darkness and realized that the inside of her mouth was swarming with small, scurrying shapes.

  She began to sit up and then rolled to one side, spitting vast quantities of the churning mass out of her mouth. Grabbing the torch from nearby, she switched it back on and then shone it down and saw to her horror that she'd been spitting out a knot of spiders. Starting to retch, she reached into her mouth with her fingers and scooped out more of the spiders, some of which were still alive and some of which had already been chewed down to mashes of mulch and torn legs.

  Coughing and spluttering, she tried to catch her breath before turning and seeing the stone slab next to her. She shone the torch up and flinched as soon as she saw some scraps of bandage hanging over the edge. Reaching up, she felt a sharp pain on the side of her head and felt blood matted into her hair, and as soon as she tried to get to her feet she realized she was dizzy, with the chamber seemingly spinning all around her.

  As she tried to steady herself, she thought back to that moment on her grandmother's porch and realized that it had all been a dream. She'd never made it out of the pyramid at all.

  Turning, she shone the torch around and immediately saw Duncan's body next to her. Filled with panic and barely able to think straight, she turned and shone the torch across the chamber, but so far she could see no sign of the priest. The torches on the walls had evidently burned themselves out, so she made doubly certain to cast the torch-beam around several times, terrified in case she spotted the priest. Taking a couple of steps back, she realized she could feel her heart pounding in her chest and that she could hear a faint pulsing sound in her ears, and a moment later she became aware of a tickling dribble running down the side of her neck. Even before she'd wiped some away and examined it in the torch-light, she knew without a shadow of doubt that it was blood.

  Taking a deep breath, she realized her head was pounding.

  And then she heard it.

  A shuffling sound.

  Spinning around, she shone the torch through the darkness, but all she saw were the stone steps. She turned, convinced that there was something nearby, and even though she still couldn't see any movement, the shuffling sound was continuing, getting closer and closer. She turned again, but although the sound was definitely approaching, she still couldn't see anything. Becoming increasingly desperate, she took a step back, before realizing she could hear a faint gasping sound over her shoulder. Turning, she shone the torch straight ahead.

  “Martha!” she shouted.

  As the light fell on Martha's damaged, partially-bandaged faced, Charley saw that something was desperately wrong with the woman's nose, which appeared to have been torn away during the mummification process. Letting out a faint gasp, Martha stumbled forward and Charley instinctively took a couple of steps back, before feeling something brushing against her hand. She looked down and saw to her horror that Duncan's lifeless body was starting to move.

  “No,” she whispered, turning and hurrying to the steps, “no, this -”

  Stopping suddenly, she shone the torch up at the doorway and saw that the priest was standing in the way, staring straight down at her.

  “What do you want?” she shouted, feeling as if she was close to tears. She stepped to the side and watched as the priest began to make his way down the steps, keeping his dead eyes fixed on her all the while. Turning, she shone her torch at Martha and saw that she and Duncan were already making their way closer, while something else was moving in the distance, which she figured must be Henrik.

  Slowly, Martha began to climb the steps.

  “No,” Charley whispered, “please... Don't do this...”

  Hearing a creaking sound nearby, she turned just as the priest reached her. Ducking out of the way, she stumbled across the steps and then up to the doorway. She took one last look back at the figures as they limped closer, before hurrying through the doorway and along the corridor. Her mind was empty now, and all she could think about was the urge to get away. Racing around one of the corners, she continued to run until she reached the pile of fallen stones that had been blocking the way out. Remembering that Chris had said it was futile to trying getting through, but figuring that he'd been wrong about pretty much everything so far, she started pulling the broken stones aside, forcing herself to keep working as fast as possible until, finally, she realized she'd managed to create a small gap.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that the priest was at the far end of the corridor and was making his way slowly toward her with the hooked spike in one of his hands.

  Ducking down, she put the torch between her teeth and then wriggled into the gap, before working to push her way through. As the stones ahead fell away, she finally managed to pull herself through and tumbled down, landing hard against the floor. Grabbing the torch and looking around, she saw to her astonishment that she'd made it back to the main entrance hall. Getting to her feet, she almost ran straight into one of the huge stone pillars before stumbling toward the far wall, making for the hole that Chris had created on their first night at the site.

  Stopping suddenly, she saw to her horror that the hole had already been filled in. Huge stones had been pushed back into place, and as she dropped to her knees and tried to move them out of the way, she realized they were too secure.

  “No,” she hissed, “this is impossible, come on...”

  Hearing a sound nearby, she turned and looked across the dark hall, and finally she spotted movement in the distance. She shone the torch ahead and saw that the pile of dried, desiccated bodies had begun to twitch, as the corpses began to move their arms and start hauling themselves up. For a terrified moment, all Charley could manage to do was watch as first one of the dead workers got to its feet, and then another, and then several more.

  “No,” she said out loud, taking a step back. “Please, no...”

  Hurrying past some of the columns, she stop
ped as soon as she reached the two doors on the far side. One was the Gateway to Hell, which was the route she and the others had taken the other day, but the other door, the Gateway to Death, remained unexplored. Turning, she saw that the dead workers were starting to make their way toward her, and she realized she had no choice. She ran through the Gateway to Death and hurried along the corridor, figuring that maybe, somehow, she could find a way out. When she got to the end of the corridor, she turned right and saw to her astonishment that there was a set of stone stairs.

  For a moment, she thought back to Chris's advice about not going too far up, since all the exits would be at ground level.

  “Damn it,” she muttered finally, starting to hurry up the stairs, “you were wrong about pretty much everything else, why not this too?”

  Stumbling against the stone stairs and almost falling, she somehow managed to find the strength to keep going. Her mind was filled with panic and she forced herself to keep from looking back as she hurried up one flight of stairs and then found another. Continuing, she felt her legs starting to burn with pain, but she knew she had to keep going. Every time she thought of the priest and the other dead figures following, she managed to find a burst of speed, until finally after what seemed like a constant ascent she reached a small chamber with vents dotted around the floor, which she figured must be the system Chris said was used for the smoke generated by the torches.

  Spotting a doorway on the other side of the chamber, she hurried forward and found that there was a single, large loose stone. She began to push it free, and finally it fell out the other side and a blast of light filled her field of vision, along with a band of heavy rain that was immediately blown through the gap. Crawling through, she stopped and looked around, and as she got to her feet she realized that the impossible had happened.

  She was out.

  She was right at the top of the huge pyramid, with the stepped sides running down to the ground several hundred meters below. Rain was still falling fast, and a strong wind almost knocked her off-balance, but she made her way carefully around the top of the pyramid until she saw the plateau far below, and the damaged tents a little further off. Figuring that she had no time to lose, she sat on the wet, slippery stones and eased herself down to the next level, terrified that in the bad weather she might slip and fall all the way. She glanced back up at the top of the pyramid, but there was no sign of anyone following her, so she focused on making her way down, going as fast as she dared without taking any unnecessary risks. Her feet slipped a couple of times on the wet stones, but she was too panicked to slow down too much.

  After what seemed like an eternity, she eventually dropped from the final level and reached the edge of the plateau, slipping slightly and landing hard on her knees. She let out a gasp of pain and dropped the torch, which rolled away, but she didn't even waste time going to fetch it; instead, she stumbled to her feet and began to run across the plateau, desperately trying to get to the other side so she could reach the tents. When she got to the stone steps, she hurried down, taking them two at a time until she finally hit the muddy ground. She dropped down and crawled inside the only tent that was still standing, before finding the satellite phone and desperately trying to connect to the team in London.

  She waited, and after a moment she heard a dialing tone beyond the wall of static.

  “Please pick up,” she whispered frantically, as rain pounded against the roof of the tent, “please pick up, please -”

  “Hello?” a familiar voice asked on the other end.

  “David!” she shouted. “It's me!” She waited. “David?”

  “Hello?”

  “It's me! Can you hear me?”

  “Is anyone there?”

  “It's me, it's Charley Manners! Please, tell me you can hear me!”

  Silence for a moment.

  “I don't know if anyone's there,” David continued, sounding a little cautious, “but on the off-chance that someone is, it's good to hear some sign of life from you. We were starting to get a little worried.”

  “Come on,” she muttered, adjusting some of the dials on the side of the phone. “Can you hear me now?”

  “We're expecting you to get back to the base camp in the next few days,” David continued. “I guess you'll be able to get in touch properly once you've reached civilization again. Well, some form of civilization, at least.”

  “Please try to hear me,” she stammered, as tears streamed down her face. “Everyone's dead. They're all gone, it's just me, please, you have to be able to hear me...”

  “We're all just totally relieved,” David continued, clearly still unable to hear her. “They finally got that maniac with the warheads. Things were looking pretty bad for a while, but it's all under control now.”

  “It is?” she replied, even though she knew he couldn't hear her. “The threat moving across the world... It's over, that must mean...”

  “This is crazy,” David added. “I have no idea if anyone out there can hear a word I'm saying, but if you can, just try to get in touch from the base when you reach town, okay?”

  “No!” she shouted. “Don't go! Please -”

  Before she could finish, she heard the call being disconnected.

  “Don't go,” she said out loud, as she heard rain still falling on the roof of the tent. She paused for a moment, frozen in a moment of indecision, before realizing that she had to at least try to get away. She grabbed one of the backpacks and opened it, checking inside to make sure that it contained plenty of food and water bottles, before crawling back out of the tent, getting to her feet, and turning.

  She froze as she found herself face to face with the last priest. Rainwater was pouring down his withered, dehydrated face, as his dead eyes stared straight into her and he raised the hook.

  Epilogue

  “You need fattening up. They clearly didn't feed you properly in that hospital.”

  Sitting on the porch, Charley watched as her grandmother placed a bowl of chocolate bars on the table. She took a deep breath, unable to get rid of the sense of deep unease that was growing slowly in her chest. Looking down at her hand, she felt for a fraction of a second as if she could feel rain falling on her skin, even though the sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud to be seen in the bright blue sky. The sensation quickly passed, but she could still feel it on her skin, like a kind of phantom.

  “And these,” her grandmother added, setting a bowl of marshmallows down. “Still your favorite?”

  “I...” Charley stared at the bowl for a moment. “Thank you.”

  “Look how happy he is to see you,” her grandmother continued, turning to look over at Walter, who was on the lawn, playing with the sprinkler. “I swear, he's a different dog every time you come to visit.” She put a hand on Charley's shoulder. “You must stay as long as you like. If your father's still mad at you, well, that's his problem. He's always been very self-centered, but he can't possibly blame you for the expedition going so badly wrong. Let him stew with that horrible temper of his. You know we love having you here, don't you?”

  “Thanks,” Charley replied, still staring at the marshmallows. Feeling her nose running slightly, she reached up and wiped it clean with the sleeve of her shirt.

  “Have you got a cold?”

  She nodded.

  “It'll pass,” her grandmother continued, turning and heading to the back door. “After everything you've been through, I don't think a cold's too much to complain about.”

  Wiping her nose again, Charley forced a smile before looking over at the bowl of marshmallows. She wanted to eat one, but in the back of her mind there was a lingering concern that maybe something bad would happen. Since trekking through the jungle and being found close to death a few months earlier, her memories of the expedition had been a little tricky, and she wasn't even sure if some of the more unreal elements had really happened. All she knew for certain was that psychiatrists and doctors had dismissed her wilder claims, leading her to drop them
entirely, and that follow-up expeditions had failed to find any sign of the pyramid.

  Reaching out, she picked up a marshmallow. She turned it around in her fingers for a moment, seeing that it appeared to be completely normal, before finally popping it into her mouth. She paused for a moment longer, before biting down and starting to chew. She waited, convinced that at any moment a foul taste would erupt in her mouth, but as the seconds ticked past she began to relax a little. Once she'd finished the first marshmallow, she tentatively tried another, still with no bad taste, and then she added a third.

  A moment later, her dog wandered over with a chew-toy in his mouth.

  “You want to play, Walter?” she asked, smiling as grabbed a handful of marshmallows.

  Sniffing, she wiped her nose on her sleeve again.

  “Okay,” she added, getting to her feet.

  She popped another marshmallow into her mouth. A moment later, the foulest taste burst into her mouth, and she realized there were lots of small globs of matter on her tongue. She grimaced and reached up to spit the disgusting lump out, but as suddenly as they'd arrived, the taste and strange texture vanished. She waited, but they were definitely gone, so she tried another marshmallow and found that it tasted completely fine. Her runny nose also seemed to have cleared up.

  “Okay,” she said, stepping down onto the grass and heading over to play with the dog, as bright midday sun reflected off the nearby greenhouse. “No time limits. Let's just keep playing until we drop.”

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine