The Tears of Nero (The Halo Group Book 1)

by Jason Brannon

“So what’s the deal with the bottle caps?” Edward asked.

  “One day Kellan didn’t show up for school. Thinking he might have been sick, I went by his house after class. I knocked on the screen door and nobody answered. I could hear someone yelling at the other end of the house. I thought somebody might need help and, finding the door unlocked, I went inside. When I reached the end of the hall, I watched as Kellan’s dad beat him over and over again with a lamp cord. He had ripped the wiring right out of the lamp and was using it on Kellan’s legs. I remember Mr. Lindell reciting Bible verses while he whipped him, and I remember the sound of Kellan’s voice breaking over and over again as he cried out for help. Kellan was screaming violently, and his skin was covered in red welts. His dad had obviously been drinking, and the alcohol made him violent. As soon as he saw me, he yelled at me to get out of their house, threw the lamp at me, and told me he would kill me and my family if he ever saw me again. Naturally, I ran away and went back to my home. I never told anybody about what I saw. I was too frightened. Both for myself and my parents.”

  “How old were you at the time?” Edward asked.

  “Ten,” Kelly said. “I was just a kid.”

  “So Nero may be punishing you for not telling anyone what you saw,” Edward theorized. “He said yours was a sin of omission. Maybe he blames you, in part, for the continued abuse. Had you reported the incident, he might have been saved from more of the same.”

  “I was ten,” Kelly said again. Her lower lip trembled as she struggled to keep the tears at bay.

  “But he hired you to work in his ministry,” Henry added. “Did it seem he held a grudge against you when you finally saw him again?”

  “He wasn’t the same person I used to know,” Kelly explained. “He was fanatical, prone to fits of violence, eccentric. But he never brought up his childhood to me.”

  “Is there anything you‘re leaving out?” Edward asked.

  Kelly fidgeted and chewed on her lip. “I saw something I shouldn’t have. One Sunday before he was scheduled to tape his show, I saw him engaged in some sort of ritual. I watched him and a bunch of his deacons praying to an angel. They were bowing to this idol that was created in the likeness of a seraphim. It was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. When Kellan realized I had seen what they were up to, he fired me on the spot and told me never to come back again.”

  “Angels,” Edward said. “We’ve got all the makings of Revelation right here. We’ve got links to the Antichrist, The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, Patmos, and now angels. Franklin, is it ok to use the word now? Seems appropriate.”

  “Whatever,” Franklin said. “Knock yourself out. You think that thing you saw in the Quonset hut was the fallen angel Lindell was praying to. Who am I to argue?”

  “It’s all rather unsettling, isn’t it?” Henry remarked.

  “Ok, fast forward,” Sadie said. “What did Nero hire you to do here, Kelly? He gave you a bag of gold coins. What did you have to do to earn them?”

  “My instructions were simple,” Kelly said. “My orders were to report to the dinner party…and to keep an eye on Franklin. I was supposed to receive further instructions once we reached the island. That’s all I was told. I guess my instructions are the same as everyone else’s. It was all just a ploy to get me here.”

  “You were supposed to keep an eye on me?” Franklin said. “Why?”

  Kelly shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s so much of this I was never told. The instructions said I wasn’t supposed to let you out of my sight. I didn‘t know about the guy getting fed to the lions. I wasn’t prepared to be drugged and kidnapped. I had no idea my life would be in jeopardy. None of this was supposed to be part of the equation.”

  Without warning, the computer flashed on again, and immediately a video began playing. It was a clip of Reverend Halford Kellan Lindell repeating the same line over and over again from one of his sermons.

  “Be sure, your sins will find you out!” the televangelist said in a loud, booming voice.

  That was the last thing any of them heard before the explosion.

  Chapter 15

  Everyone hit the ground as flaming bits and pieces of the computer rained down around them. Franklin’s shirt caught fire when a chunk of smoldering plastic landed on him, and he rolled around frantically, attempting to extinguish the flames. In a matter of seconds, the tent was ablaze, and everyone rushed outside to avoid being burned alive.

  Dark tendrils of smoke curled up into the air, smudging the sky. Somewhere in the distance a bird cawed an alarm.

  “Is anybody hurt?” Edward asked, coughing to clear the smoke from his lungs.

  Everybody shook their heads and dusted themselves off, shaken but in one piece.

  “This guy ain’t playing around,” Sadie said. “I can't believe I used to date this creep!”

  “What do we do now?” Franklin asked. “We’re sitting ducks.”

  “We’ve got to keep playing Nero’s game,” Henry said. “We don‘t have any leverage at this point.”

  “And how are we supposed to gain any leverage in this situation?” Franklin asked, frustrated.

  “We try and understand what makes Nero tick,” Henry explained. “We need to figure out what he wants from us. We can also hope Seneca shows up again.”

  “The next delta on the map isn’t very far,” Edward said, studying the yellowed sheet of parchment. “Maybe we should check that out.”

  Nobody had a better idea so they began to walk.

  Limestone cliffs rose up out of the jungle on their right, looming over them. The cliffs were honeycombed and featured lots of places for someone to hide. They kept their eyes on the caves the entire time, looking for any sign of movement. If Nero was up there he hid himself well.

  The beach switched back so that it led them around the front face of the cliffs and around toward the opposite side. They trudged through the wet sand, exhausted but having no other choice but to pursue Nero‘s game.

  Symbols marred the limestone like strange graffiti. The crimson writing stood out in stark contrast against the white rock. The symbols looked ritualistic and ancient, although the painting had been done recently. They didn’t look like letters exactly, and the way some of them were stacked one on top of the other indicated that the characters weren’t being used to spell words of any sort.

  “Anybody know what that means?” Edward asked. “Sadie, anything in that photographic memory of yours that would give us a hint?”

  “Not a clue,” Sadie admitted.

  “Maybe our resident psychic could shed some light on things,” Franklin said, still unwilling to let Kelly’s deception be forgotten.

  “Maybe our resident butthead could learn to keep his mouth shut,” Kelly replied.

  “Edward, are we close?” Henry asked, more concerned with how much longer they had to walk.

  “Very close,” Edward confirmed. “In fact, I think this is the place.”

  “Um, yeah, I would say so,” Sadie said, looking ahead.

  The cave yawned at them like a great, black mouth eager to devour them all. A purple tear-stained mask had been mounted on the rock above the entrance.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Kelly said. “Why not tell us to throw ourselves into an active volcano?”

  “I’m not going in there,” Sadie said. “No way. No how.”

  “But we have to,” Edward said. “This is part of Nero’s game.”

  “Who knows what might be waiting inside for us?”

  “Maybe Nero’s converted this into a watering hole for wayward travelers,” Henry joked. “I could sure use a drink right about now.”

  “Or maybe there’s a tiger waiting inside,” Kelly said.

  “Or maybe the cave is full of black widow spiders,” Franklin added, enjoying the fleeting look of terror that passed over Henry’s face.

  “It doesn’t matter what’s in there,” Edward said. “We’ve got to check it out. I don’t think we stand a chance of gettin
g off of this island unless we do what Nero tells us to do.”

  “He’s right,” Kelly said. “We’ve got to go in.”

  “We’ll need torches,” Edward said. “Everybody gather up something suitable that we can burn.”

  Once the group had reassembled and wrapped the end of their sticks with leaves, grass, fronds, and anything else that might smolder, Henry used his lighter to start five weak fires. The foliage didn’t burn as anticipated but rather glowed weakly and smoked, filling the air with black clouds.

  “This isn’t going to work,” Franklin proclaimed. “We’ll never be able to see with all that smoke. We might even kill ourselves by breathing that stuff in.”

  “Got any better ideas?” Edward asked.

  “As a matter of fact, I do. We could wrap the torches in strips of cloth and douse them.”

  “Douse them in what?” Henry asked.

  Franklin pulled a shiny flask out of the inner pocket of his sports coat. “A little home remedy,” he said with a guilty smile. “Nero left this little present inside my jacket.”

  “How do you know what’s in there?” Edward asked. “It might not be what you think it is.”

  “I’ve already tried it,” Franklin confessed. “Trust me. It is what I think it is.”

  “That’s a little unusual,” Henry said. “Why would he give you something like that?”

  “He’s researched me. It’s no secret that I like a drink every now and then.”

  “Either that or your friendship isn’t quite as strained as Nero’s note would lead us to believe,” Kelly said. “Maybe you’re partly responsible for all this, and Nero gave you that to make you a little more comfortable through this whole ordeal.”

  “And maybe you talk too much, “ Franklin said. “I’m not part of this. Do you think I enjoy trudging around the beach? I’d much rather be in an air-conditioned office making millions.”

  “It doesn’t seem like he’s catering to the rest of our vices,” Henry noted. “I like to smoke a good pipe of tobacco every now and then, but I wasn’t blessed with anything to smoke.”

  “He did give you a lighter,” Franklin reminded him. “Maybe Nero figures you can roll your own smokes from one of these plants you might stumble across in the jungle.”

  “As long as it‘s flammable we shouldn‘t question the reason why Nero gave it to us,” Kelly said.

  “I‘m with you,” Sadie chimed in.

  Kelly didn’t wait for anyone else to volunteer their clothing for the task. Instead, she took her jacket off and pulled a small Swiss Army knife out of her pocket.

  “Where did that knife come from?” Franklin asked.

  Kelly stopped as she was prying one of the blades open. “It was in my pocket.”

  “How come you didn’t find it earlier?” Franklin asked.

  “I guess I overlooked it,” Kelly explained.

  Franklin huffed. “Whatever.”

  “Anybody else got anything useful?” Henry asked. “Everybody check your pockets. Maybe somebody has an inflatable raft in their pocket. Or a Smith and Wesson.”

  Sadie was the next one to find something.

  “Well, what have you got?” Franklin asked.

  Sadie pulled the object out and stared at it for a moment before dropping it in fear and revulsion.

  “That’s it?” Franklin said. “This has got to be Nero’s idea of a joke.”

  “It’s a feather,” Sadie said. “A black one. And it feels evil somehow.”

  “Beware the Curse of the Evil Plumage,” Franklin said with a chuckle.

  “I’ve seen feathers like that one before,” Edward said, letting the thought linger. “In the Quonset hut. On the-”

  “Nope, don’t even say it,” Franklin interjected. “Don’t even go there.”

  Sadie picked the feather up gingerly and held it away from her at arm’s length as if it were diseased and disgusting. “It feels…bad,” she said, not knowing how else to explain it.

  “Bad?” Edward asked. “What do you mean?”

  “You take it,” Sadie said. “Maybe you can explain it to me.”

  Edward accepted the black feather and winced at its touch. “It feels….wrong somehow, doesn’t it?”

  Sadie nodded. “I told you.”

  “Put it away,” he said. “I don’t want to touch it anymore.”

  “What possible use could we have for something like that?” Henry asked. “A feather isn’t going to do us any good here.”

  “Maybe it’s one of Nero’s jokes,” Franklin said. “Or maybe it’s not from Nero at all. Maybe it just wound up in there.”

  “Nothing on this island is coincidence,” Edward said. “It’s there for a reason. Remember what I saw. This is linked to the shadowy, winged figure from the laboratory.”

  “Remember what I told you about Lindell worshipping that seraphim shrine,” Kelly reminded them. “Edward knows what he’s talking about.”

  Sadie started singing R.E.M’s “It’s the End of the World as We Know It.” No one was amused, and after a few bars of the chorus, she quieted down. “Sorry,” she said.

  “Edward, anything in your jacket?” Henry asked.

  “I’ve already checked the pockets,” Edward admitted. “But since everybody else is finding stuff, I’ll check again.” He tore his jacket off, turned it upside down, and shook it in the hopes of finding something hidden in the folds. Within seconds something small fell from the inside pocket.

  Edward reached down and picked the skeleton key up from where it had fallen on the sand. “Another key? I wonder what it unlocks.”

  “Maybe something inside this cave,” Henry said. “I have a hunch that we’ll know what the key fits when we find it.”

  Kelly selected the longest blade from the knife and used it to cut the cloth into long pieces. From there, it was a matter of wrapping the cloth around the end of the torch and soaking it in the whiskey from Franklin‘s flask. This time the torches burned brighter, and the smoke was markedly reduced.

  “Let’s go,” Edward said, leading the way into the black maw of the cave.

  Although the island seemed to be uninhabited, it was clear from the inside of the cavern that it had been explored at some point. Cave paintings covered the walls. They all realized that something wasn’t quite right about the pictures, however, the moment they recognized the story depicted. These weren’t crude renderings of cavemen bashing in the skulls of mammoths. These weren’t instructions for surviving the afterlife outlined in Egyptian hieroglyph. This was the animated version of the end of the world.

  Seven angels holding seven trumpets stood above the earth looking down.

  “Seven angels,” Henry said. “Like that scripture.”

  Seven comets marking the paths of those seven angels streaked across a night sky, landing in different points around the globe.

  “This looks modern,” Kelly said.

  Seven angels stood in seven different locations, their trumpets at the ready.

  “I don’t like this,” Sadie said. “I’m really starting to get the creeps.”

  The first angel stood on a spot of land in the middle of a large body of water.

  “The first angel is shown on an island,” Edward said. “And look at the word that’s been painted beneath.”

  Morningstar.

  On an adjacent stretch of rock, four horsemen galloped across the earth spreading war, famine, pestilence, and death.

  “I think it’s safe to say that Nero is the artist,” Edward said. “These paintings aren’t that old. I think this is another one of his messages.”

  Edward’s monologue was cut short by a bloodcurdling scream. It was Kelly. They all turned toward her, expecting to see her being dragged away by a madman. But she was standing still and pointing at something with a trembling finger. Even in the meager half-light given off by the torches, it was clear that her face was flushed and her eyes were filled with fear.

  “It’s a b-body,” she stammered.r />
  The man had been crucified by the looks of it. His face was a twisted mask of pain and misery that time had been unable to erase. Flies buzzed around the man’s head, and their larvae scurried over lips, eyelids, and nostrils. The man was perfumed with the scent of the grave, and everyone gagged at the stench. Yet, even in death, the man was familiar.

  “I don’t understand,” Franklin said. “I was sure Lindell was Nero.”

  They all knew the televangelist and recognized him, nailed to that cross. There was a note nailed to the corpse’s chest.

  Henry held his lighter up and read it aloud. “Why would God create a world that would turn against Him so violently?”

  “Nero and Lindell can’t be the same person,” Franklin whispered.

  “That means Nero is still alive,” Sadie whispered.

  From somewhere behind them came the faint strains of violin music.

  Chapter 16

  Seeing a dead body convinced them now, more than ever, that their lives were in danger. In celebration of their fear, Nero began to play his fiddle again. Its music flooded the cavern, echoing off of the high ceilings and the abysmal unplumbed depths.

  “Maybe we should search the body,” Henry said. “See if Nero left us any clues.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Sadie said. But it was clear by the look on Henry’s face that he wasn’t.

  “That’s okay,” Edward said. “Henry and I can search the body.”

  “Just as long as I don’t have to touch him,” Sadie said with relief in her voice. “After the history he and I shared together, I don’t think I could do that. It would bring back too many painful memories.”

  “Not a problem. We can handle it,” Edward said. “Ready, Henry?”

  “I was born ready,” the old man said, trying to put on a brave front even though it was obvious he was frightened.

  To judge by the preacher’s stench and the number of bugs feasting on his carcass, Lindell had been hanging on his cross for several days. The heat and humidity of the island hadn’t been kind. Lindell’s face had the waxy pallor of a candle that has been sitting out in the noonday sun, and his skin was the yellow of jaundiced babies. Without warning a millipede with wicked black legs crawled out of Lindell’s mouth. Edward jumped, prompting a nervous chuckle from Henry. “Easy, boy,” Henry said.