The Tears of Nero (The Halo Group Book 1)

by Jason Brannon

  “Lucky you,” Franklin said. “Marriage is one of those knots that’s difficult to untie once the rope finds its way around your neck. Of course, I’m only speaking personally here. I’m sure lots of people find true love.”

  “I did,” Henry said.

  “Marriage was different in your day,” Franklin protested. “Now, it’s a disposable commodity. If you get married and don’t like the choice you made, you can get a divorce. No big deal. People didn‘t do that when you were young.”

  “Margie and I took our vows very seriously,” Henry said. “But it was easy with us. Marriage wasn’t a job in our house.”

  “So what about you, Edward?” Sadie asked. She realized her mistake after the question escaped her lips.

  “Oh sorry,” she followed up. “I forgot what you said about your wife and son.”

  “No problem,” Edward said. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  “I don’t want to talk about anything serious for the rest of the night,” Sadie said. “Our minds need a vacation.”

  “So what do you want to talk about?” Franklin asked. “The economy? World hunger? Peace on earth and goodwill toward men? The floor is yours.”

  “What’s your middle name?”

  “Why do you want to know?” Franklin asked.

  “Just curious.”

  “Augustus. Yours?”

  “Michelle. Henry, what about you?”

  “Mine‘s Benjamin,” Henry said.

  “Edward‘s actually my middle name,” Edward said. “My first is John.”

  “What were you like in high school, Franklin?” Sadie asked. “Were you the guy that got thrown in his locker everyday? Or were you the one with the eternal wedgie?”

  A fleeting look of embarrassment passed over Franklin’s features. “High school wasn’t a good time for me. I was a major geek. I couldn’t get a date to save my life. I spent every day trying to keep my head from being rammed into a toilet. I didn’t have any friends.”

  Hearing the buried pain in the man’s voice made Edward feel a twinge of sympathy for him. “It says a lot that you were able to move past all of that and become as successful as you are.”

  “I made it my mission to get rich,” Franklin said. “I’ve achieved more than everybody I went to school with. I’ve got more money than all the members of my graduating class combined. So I guess I’m the one with the last laugh. The guys who tormented me every day are fat, bald, and doing their best to make their mortgage payment. They’re married to cheerleaders who have doubled in size, gotten pregnant three or four times, and become content to sit around the house all day watching The View. In comparison, I think my life is pretty good. What about everyone else?”

  “I dropped out of school in the ninth grade,” Henry admitted. “Education was the last thing on my mind. My father died when I was fourteen, and I went to work doing oil changes at a local body shop to help my mother pay the bills. I didn’t go back and get my GED until after my mother died. I was twenty-six. I probably wouldn’t have done it, but Margie encouraged me. She supported me in everything I ever did. But enough about all that. I can’t keep talking about her or else I’ll start crying. Sadie? How about you, dear?”

  Sadie smirked at Franklin. “I’m one of those cheerleaders who is destined to double in size and get pregnant three or four times.”

  “I’m glad to hear that you have goals,” Franklin chuckled. “I’m sure if you continue on your current path to nowhere, you will achieve all your dreams.”

  “Actually, I was pretty popular in school,” Sadie continued, ignoring him. “I was the salutatorian of my graduating class. I was Homecoming Queen. I didn’t have any problem getting dates, and for what it’s worth, I think I’m still doing pretty well for myself. The only thing I regret is losing my baby.”

  At first no one in the group knew what to say. Finally, Edward broke the silence. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I haven’t been the same since,” she admitted. “I guess everything happens for a reason.”

  “I’m sure that’s something you never really get over,” Henry said solemnly.

  “Oh, it isn’t,” Sadie said without missing a beat. “I still remember that car. It was an old red Mustang that my father found at a junkyard. He rebuilt the car from the tires up. All my friends in school loved that car. I loved it too.”

  She grinned as she watched the expressions change on their faces.

  “A car?” Franklin said with a relieved laugh. “You had me going there for a minute.”

  “Me too,” Edward said. “I wasn’t sure what to say at first. You got us.”

  “Whatever happened to it?” Henry asked.

  “I wrecked it on my way home from cheerleading practice,” Sadie said, laughing. “I had a date that night and was busy trying to put on makeup and drive at the same time.”

  “You’re proving my point about cheerleaders,” Franklin said, prompting an evil look.

  From there, the conversation transitioned into a debate about the best western film of all time. All but Henry voted for Tombstone. Henry insisted that the best western was anything starring John Wayne or Clint Eastwood. The group chatted about music, books, love, more food, hobbies, best vacations, and a host of other topics that kept them up until the wee hours of the morning. The discussion was a way to shake off the fear that Nero had instilled in them. It was also a way of staying awake.

  Still, the day had taken its toll on them, and eventually the weight of fatigue became too heavy to bear. One by one, the group turned in for the night, curling up on their soft beds of leaves and tropical sand.

  Edward waited until everyone had settled in before saying a quick prayer asking God for His protection. Then he found his own bed and closed his eyes.

  It didn’t take long for everyone to fall asleep. They had all speculated on their ability to rest after the horrid fate that befell Kelly, but the psychological injuries they suffered forced their bodies to rest. In this case, the mind knew what was best for the body.

  Chapter 21

  When they woke up on their beds of damp sand, no one was dead. No one was missing. They had all survived without a scratch. But Nero had been there.

  “Dear Lord,” Henry said as he saw the mockery of Kelly that had been erected in her memory. His exclamation was all it took to get everyone else to their feet.

  The four of them had slept far enough apart to allow Nero access to the center of their circle. As a joke, Nero had created a recreation of Kelly’s demise. A taxidermied monkey had been dressed in women’s clothing, painted with makeup, outfitted with a fortune teller’s turban and staked just as Kelly herself had been.

  “He’s mocking us,” Sadie said.

  “He could have killed us last night if he wanted to,” Edward said.

  “I think there’s a note in the monkey’s mouth,” Henry said.

  “You see I’m not joking about all of this,” Edward read. “I’m very serious about what I want you to do. There is no room for bargaining and no room for compromise. As you can see, your little parlor tricks won’t keep me at bay either. Any of you I wish to kill, I will do so with glee. The jungle is my eyes and ears. Nothing you do or say escapes me. The clock is ticking. Find the angel.”

  “The only thing that note confirms for me is that our time is running out,” Sadie said. “If we think there’s a boat on this island, we better start looking.”

  “No question about it,” Edward said. “Let’s go.”

  This time the group went in a direction opposite the way they’d come. They retraced their steps to the place where they’d first been dumped out on the beach. From there, they followed the coastline. Nobody bothered consulting the GPS unit or the crudely scrawled map. They all knew the score now and were simply concerned with escape.

  Every now and then they heard the faint sounds of a violin which wasn’t surprising. What did surprise them, however, was the way everything in the jungle seemed to be keeping
an eye on them. Although it was likely the result of exhaustion and paranoia, the feeling of being scrutinized was undeniable and unnerving. Birds, perched high in the boughs of palm trees, seemed to study them with malevolent intent. Monkeys, once chattering and erratic, went silent and still as the group passed by. Insects stopped buzzing at their approach, and even the wind itself seemed to sigh with each passing minute.

  “Something occurred to me,” Franklin said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “If we’re being watched, Nero will know if we’re about to get close to his boat. He won’t let us leave without a fight.”

  “So it’s a bad idea to find Lindell’s boat,” Sadie said. “But it’s also necessary.”

  “It’s a chance we have to take,” Edward said. “We know what waits for us if we don’t. At least this way, there’s a possibility we might get off this island alive.”

  The trudged through the jungle as if their feet were encased in concrete. The environment was unforgiving, and they weren’t accustomed to this type of exertion. Thorns clawed at their faces. Gnats swarmed around their heads. The sun beat down on their backs.

  They knew they were on the right track when they reached strands of barbwire that had been stretched across a break in the jungle thicket. The clearing was noticeable and wide enough for something the size of an all-terrain vehicle to navigate.

  “I wonder if this is Nero’s private driveway,” Henry said. “If so, he really needs to put up a sign number or something so we know we’re at the right place. Maybe even a welcome mat.”

  “Let’s go say hello,” Edward said.

  One by one, they threaded their way between the vicious strands of wire, taking care not to let the barbs prick their skin. Although none of them said it aloud, it wouldn’t have surprised anyone if Nero had coated the wire in some exotic neurotoxin that would cause instant paralysis.

  As they walked the road, they saw Franklin’s tattoo carved into the trunks of trees. “It confirms my story, doesn’t it?” Franklin said.

  “Yes, it does,” Sadie admitted. “It also confirms that you lied to us from the start.”

  Franklin scowled but didn’t respond. Like everyone else, he was too tired for another argument.

  They had been walking for a while when Edward finally stopped and pointed to something in the distance. There was a building of some sort, half-obscured by the sail-like fronds of the island trees. But that wasn’t to blame for the wild look of panic in his eyes. A line of tigers blocked the road up ahead, staring at them with an alien look that made the temperature drop twenty degrees.

  “This isn’t good,” Henry said. “Nobody make any sudden moves.”

  The tigers were gorgeous, powerful creatures. But that was something you might think about while viewing them from the other side of a zoo fence. In this instance, they were a very real, very imminent threat.

  “I count twelve of them,” Sadie said. “They outnumber us three to one.”

  “They aren’t moving toward us,” Edward said. “I’m not so sure they’re going to attack. I think they’ve been placed there to keep us from going any further.”

  “I have to say it’s working,” Franklin said.

  Abruptly, the tigers roared at them in unison but remained where they were.

  “Everyone start backing up,” Edward said. “And do it slowly. We don‘t know what will set them off.”

  The tigers made no attempt to move and gave no indication that they were there for any reason other than to deter the group from going any further. Still the cats never took their eyes off of the four adventurers. Whoever had trained them had done a wonderful job. The tigers did just as they had been instructed.

  Once they were out of sight of the tigers, everyone started running. They stopped after a few hundred feet and listened for the sounds of pursuit. But the tigers weren’t giving chase.

  “Maybe we should stick to the coastline and try to find where Lindell’s boat is docked.” Franklin theorized. “I‘m not really interested in seeing company headquarters anyway.”

  “Oh, come on,” Sadie said. “That’s like Darth Vader not wanting to hang out inside the Death Star.”

  “Can it, Red,” Franklin said. “Let’s look for the boat.”

  No one had a better idea so they kept walking.

  Once they emerged from the jungle and started walking along the coast again, it wasn’t long before they noticed something in the distance. Waves crept in, overtaking the beach inch by inch, sucking away the sand to reveal broken shells and bits of driftwood. Nobody could tell exactly what they were seeing at first. But the waves did their job, and more of the objects beneath the sand were uncovered until at last a familiar formation was revealed.

  “The driftwood has been arranged to look like Franklin’s tattoo,” Edward pointed out.

  “That particular message may not be meant for us,” Franklin said. “Maybe it’s a way of communicating with the other members of the group or showing them where the boat is hidden.”

  “That seems unlikely,” Henry pointed out. “The sigil is basically pointing toward the jungle. If we follow it, we’d be moving away from water, not toward it.”

  “What other choice do we have?” Edward said. “If there’s a chance it could lead us to a way off this island, we have to check it out..”

  “I say we check it out,” Sadie chimed in. “Right now, this is all we have to go on.”

  “It doesn’t make sense for us to go this way,” Henry argued. “If there is a boat on this island, going inland won’t help us find it.”

  “Maybe they have a private airstrip or a helipad,” Edward theorized.

  “Franklin already told us that Lindell has a serious aversion to flying.”

  “We don’t have a lot of options here, Henry,” Edward pointed out.

  “Fine. Lead the way,” Henry said with a sigh. “Just remember this moment later so I can say ‘I told you so.’”

  Chapter 22

  Someone had cleared a path through the jungle. Branches had been hacked away. Foliage had been cut back. Vines, which once snaked across the path in wild serpentine chaos, had been burned and charred so that their hold on the jungle was loosened. Even the tops of the trees had been pruned to allow sunshine to filter through the canopy and light the way.

  The path looked more like a nature trail meant for hiking than a last mile for death row inmates, cutting into the jungle like a jagged scar. After trekking through the jungle, traversing falling trees, and swatting mosquitoes the size of B-52’s, they came to a large, wooden door built from plank lumber that was set into the earth. It looked like a cross between a root cellar and a hideout for mischievous young boys. A single word was painted on the center plank: Abbadon.

  “I think it’s safe to say I was right,” Henry said smugly. “No boat here. Just another one of Nero’s traps.”

  “Looks like it,” Edward sighed.

  “OK, contestants,” Franklin said in his best Alex Trebek. “Final Jeopardy. Does anybody have a clue what that means?”

  Everyone turned to Sadie.

  She smiled and pushed a lock of red hair out of her face. “Glad to feel so needed,” she said. “In The Book of Revelation, Abbadon is the leader of the locust-like beings sent to torment the unbelievers. He is also known by some as the angel of the bottomless pit.”

  Henry nodded. “We should have known that it would have something to do with angels…and Revelation.”

  Franklin laughed. “Well, what are we waiting for? Edward, open up that door and let’s unleash something nasty. I, for one, am ready to see an angel. Preferably one that will bring us good tidings of great joy.”

  Edward sighed and went over to the door. Henry followed along behind him. “Do I really even need to say it?”

  “Say what?”

  “Do I need to remind you that every time we do what Nero wants it turns out to be a trap of some sort? Do I need to remind you that this is a very, very bad idea?”

  “Nah,” S
adie said. “Save your breath. We already know it.”

  “You want me to do the honors?” Edward asked.

  “Be my guest,” Franklin said. “Better you than me.”

  Edward grabbed the rope handle to the trap door and pulled upward, not knowing what to expect. Nothing catastrophic happened. The hole in the ground looked about six feet deep. At the bottom of the hole were two chests resembling the other two they had found on the beach. Dozens of strands of concertina wire stretched back and forth across the hole, making it impossible to simply reach in and grab either box. Small flags bearing numbers were attached to each wire. A sheet of parchment with a wet, crimson message had been tacked to the back of the door.

  “This question is for Henry,” the note read. “Christ once said ‘Suffer the little children unto me.’ Did that give you the right to let a child suffer? You‘re no better than Kelly. Bad things happened to a good kid, and that good kid eventually grew up to become a nasty man like his father. Oh, but I’m not the only sinner around these parts. Be sure your sins will find you out, Henry. Just as Abbadon was the keeper of the keys to the bottomless pit, so I am the keeper of the keys to your escape off of this island. One of the boxes is filled with something deadly. One is filled with something that might help you live. It’s up to you to figure out how these wires work. Pull the right string and live to see another day. Pull the wrong one and discover the meaning of the word, ‘Morningstar.’ Also, if you‘re thinking about walking away from this, I wouldn‘t advise it. Opening the trap door was the trigger that armed a dozen landmines hidden in the jungle around you. Pick the right wire and the mines will deactivate. Your only clue about the game is this: Abbadon is the key. By some accounts, he is a seraphim.”

  “Morningstar? Land mines?” Edward said. “Wow. I’d almost rather face the locusts from Revelation.”

  “Henry, you really made Nero angry at some point along the way,” Franklin said. “What did you do?”

  Henry shrugged his shoulders and averted his eyes. “I don’t know,” he said sharply. “But we better figure out the game or I’m toast.”