The Immortality Curse: A Matt Kearns Novel 3

by Greig Beck

  “Maybe they were also trying to find the secret of the wellspring, hmm?” The red tip of Eleanor’s tongue peeped out to lick her lips. She craned forward.

  “Well, there’s no way to test that theory now; they’re all dead.” Rachel raised an eyebrow. “I checked one of the bodies, and they had scarred themselves with a weird cross. It must be some sort of ancient religious order.” She pulled her phone out and scrolled to a picture showing a flattened chest with the seared cross. She handed it to Matt.

  “There could have been one on their foreheads as well, but it was too hard to make out due to the… trauma.”

  “Interesting.” Eleanor’s eyes narrowed. “What sort of order would be prepared to kill so ruthlessly?” She eased her tiny frame back into her chair. “There are many ancient orders still in existence. Clarence used to deal with some of them in his pursuit of his strange and unique artifacts all around the globe.”

  “Freemasons?” Rachel asked. “Aren’t they religious?”

  “Nah. They have their own belief system, but it’s not really a religion.” Matt stared at the image of the cross and rubbed his stubbled chin. “And I think they’re far older than the Freemasons. And besides, these guys were like professional soldiers – warriors.” He tapped the phone. “I’ve seen something like this before.”

  “The Knights Templar.” Eleanor smiled. “They date back to 1129, and even though they were disbanded by the Pope in 1312, they are thought to still exist. And fighting was all they did.”

  “That’d make sense,” Rachel said. “And it would tie in with the crucifix scars on their chests.”

  Matt stared at the picture on Rachel’s phone. “This is not a crucifix. The cross symbol has been around for thousands of years, and it was first used to signify a crossroad between life and death.”

  “And between life and death is eternal existence.” Eleanor’s eyes blazed.

  Matt shrugged. “In the group of wise Magi who visited baby Jesus, it was said that one of them had a tunic baring the cross symbol – that was well before the crucifix was associated with Christ.”

  Matt looked down at the image. “It’s hard to make out, because the flesh is so severely damaged, but I think it’s a pair of keys crossed over each other.”

  Eleanor sighed. “I wish Clarence was here; he would know what it all meant.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Matt snorted, and then tapped the small screen. “I know this; there is, or was, an ancient order who had a similar crest – two crossed keys, one representing the power to bind us here on earth, and the other to unlock heaven.”

  “Keys? That probably means it can’t be that old then,” Rachel said.

  Matt looked up at her. “Are you kidding? Keys and locks are older than you think. The first locks appeared in ancient Babylon, over six thousand years ago.”

  “Okay, that’s old.” She sat back. “So, who then?”

  “The Vatican,” Matt said.

  *

  “The Vatican?” Rachel looked heavenward. “I thought you said it wasn’t a crucifix.”

  “Or more precisely, the Borgias,” Matt confirmed. “A very powerful Italian family from around the 15th century – they were well connected, ruthless, and even produced two Popes, which is why the Vatican still has the crossed keys as its crest. The Borgias were thought to have been involved in several assassinations, and also had a private army that was blindly loyal to them.”

  Matt shrugged. “Their problem was they became too powerful and a threat to the government. They were attacked from all sides and eventually simply vanished from history. Many historians believe they were forced underground where they still exist somewhere and in some form today.”

  “That’s it, Matthew?” Eleanor’s lip curled. “It’s true that the Borgias were the Rockefellers of their day and ten times as dangerous. But they came and went in a hundred years.”

  “I know.” Matt sat staring at the image for several moments letting his mind work. “But they were just one face of something that was far older.” He held up a finger. “Hear me out here; the Borgias were the last large and powerful group to bear the crossed keys. But you can trace it all the way back to an ancient warrior race called the Bruttians.” He opened his hands. “Like the Borgian soldiers, they were aggressive, loyal, and fiercely independent, and fought against the Romans, defeating them many times.”

  Matt rubbed his chin. “The biggest historical anomaly was when they joined forces with Hannibal.”

  “Hannibal? Elephants-crossing-the-Alps Hannibal?” Rachel’s eyebrows went up.

  “The one and only.” Matt nodded to her. “When Hannibal invaded Italy, they rose up in support of him. Many couldn’t understand why, but some theorized that it was only because they wanted to help Hannibal when he was warring with the Romans in defense of Carthage. When Hannibal returned to Africa, the Bruttians went with him. Together, they kept Rome out of Africa for a hundred years.”

  Matt shrugged. “And just like the Borgias, after a time Bruttian customs and language just disappeared – it was like they thrived for a while, did the task required of them, and then vanished back to where they came.”

  “Or wherever they’re hiding now.” Eleanor’s eyes narrowed. “Pieces of a puzzle.”

  “There’s more.” Matt then described the magnificent stained glass window, and he recounted its age, and the clues hidden within the geography and the absence of any landmarks.

  “And that’s where we hit a snag,” he said glumly. “Without knowing the place to start on the map, we have no way of finding where we need to go. Bottom line: we need to get access to some old maps – some very old maps.”

  “Old maps.” Eleanor’s eyes lit up. “My dear, I can walk you into the Library of Congress Geography and Map Reading Room today.”

  “Not good enough,” Matt responded. “The maps we’re interested in usually inhabit museum libraries and private collections. I just don’t have the contacts, and even the FBI has little chance of muscling their way in to get a peek at them, let alone being allowed to examine them.”

  “And you think I can?” Eleanor smiled, one pencil-lined eyebrow raised.

  Matt smiled back. “No, I know someone as persuasive and charming as you can.” He tilted his head and widened his smile. Beside him Rachel looked away.

  “Your investigations are proceeding.” Eleanor folded her bird-like hands in her lap. “But I think it may end up taking you offshore now. Perhaps even to somewhere on the other side of the world.” Her eyes gleamed. “Perhaps the maps you seek are there.” Her mouth turned down slightly. “But just like Clarence found out, our influence does not extend much beyond our borders. That world, even today, is an exotic, dangerous and very mysterious place.”

  The old woman’s eyes widened as she sat straighter in her wheelchair. “But where my influence ends, someone else’s begins.”

  Matt leaned toward her. “You’ve got something to share with us, haven’t you, Eleanor?”

  She reached out one bony hand to place it over Matt’s. “Never underestimate the power of influence, my dear boy.” She turned to look up at Greta, who soundlessly left the room. She returned seconds later escorting a man. Rachel immediately shot to her feet.

  He was tall, swarthy, and had eyes as dark as coal that moved from Matt to Rachel, and then to Eleanor. He came and stood at the edge of the table and bowed slightly. Eleanor waved him to sit down.

  Now Matt understood why there was another setting at the table. The man’s lips just hinted at a smile, and Matt saw that he was not intimidated by Eleanor, and certainly not by himself or Rachel.

  Eleanor held out a hand to him. “Professor Matthew Kearns, Agent Rachel Bromilow…” she looked up at Rachel who was still on her feet. “Oh, do sit down, young lady. You look foolish standing there like a clothes rack.” She turned back to Matt. “I present, Mr. Khaled ibn Al Sudairi.”

  Khaled grinned, showing strong white teeth, and reached a hand ou
t to Matt. “A pleasure and an honor, Professor Kearns. I have heard much about you and your work.”

  “From Eleanor?” The man’s name was familiar but he couldn’t place from where.

  Khaled shrugged. “Yes, and also from the academic grapevines, as well as other places. Your work deciphering the Necronomicon was…” he raised a single dark eyebrow, “… out of this world.”

  “Also, top secret, so I’m guessing you heard that one from one of those “other” places you mentioned.” Matt’s smile faded.

  He nodded subtly, and then turned to Rachel. “And Agent Bromilow, also nice to meet you.” He held out his hand.

  She gripped it and held on. “You wouldn’t happen to be Khaled ibn Al Sudairi, nephew of Prince Najif al ibn Saud, of the House of Saud, would you?”

  “One and the same; tenth nephew,” he replied smoothly.

  “The House of Saud?” Matt straightened in his chair. It was no wonder the guy wasn’t overawed by Eleanor van Helling; he probably could have bought her a hundred times over. The Saud family was worth billions, many, many billions.

  “Holy cow.” Matt stuck out his hand again.

  Khaled laughed and gripped it hard. “So, you have a map, I hear?” He released Matt’s hand and then poured himself a small cup of thick, dark coffee. He sipped and waited.

  “Ahh, um…” Matt bobbed his head, and looked to Rachel. “Well…”

  “That’s classified.” Rachel’s gaze was direct and professional, as she seemed to slip back into FBI mode.

  Khaled looked at her apologetically. “I already overheard everything.” He sipped again. “I suggest we join forces. Share what we have found.”

  “And what have you found?” Rachel folded her arms.

  “Would you like to know where I’ve just come from?” Khaled didn’t wait for her to even bother guessing. “Turkey, where we scaled six mountains looking for the relics of Noah, following some credible information we received. We had found nothing and were due to leave until we scaled an obscure peak called Mount Qardū in the south.”

  He sipped his coffee, his eyes on Rachel. “It was there we found something quite… startling.”

  Matt leaned forward, feeling like the air had been sucked out of the room, as he waited for the man to go on. But Khaled sipped again, in no hurry.

  “Well?” Rachel demanded.

  He replaced his cup on the tiny saucer. “An old monastery, hidden and buried under a massive, constructed ceiling within the mountain peak.”

  “No way.” Matt edged forward another inch.

  Khaled nodded. “Inside there was a perfectly preserved body. But there was more – horrors – I lost some good men.”

  “Horrors?” Matt asked softly.

  Khaled waited for a second or two, his lips curling at the corners. “Your turn.”

  Matt felt Khaled’s gaze slicing right through him. “Um, okay, well…”

  “Hang on there, Matt.” Rachel reached out and laid a hand on his arm. “I’ll need to clear this.”

  “Consider it cleared.” Eleanor’s chin jutted toward Rachel momentarily. “As Assistant Director Wybrow has already told you, it is in your interest to collaborate, as your own investigations are now at a dead-end!“ Eleanor paused as Rachel’s cheeks reddened. Eleanor turned to Matt. “Proceed, Matthew.”

  Rachel’s lips compressed into a thin line. Matt could tell she was fighting to keep a few hostile sentences behind her lips. He didn’t want to land Rachel in any trouble, or for that matter, piss her off, but he knew the old woman was right. He looked toward Rachel.

  “It’s okay, we need to give to get, right?”

  Rachel’s nod was barely perceptible but it was enough.

  “I guess you heard about the killings, the dead priest and the map hidden within the stained glass window?”

  Khaled nodded and waited.

  “Then just like you, there’s more.” Matt decided how to begin. “We also found some weird biological remains.”

  “Biological remains?” Khaled’s brows came together. “Go on.”

  “Worms, like parasitic nematodes, possibly that had come from the body of the priest that was burned up and beheaded,” Matt said. “And, according to our analysis, they might have been responsible for cell life extension and regeneration. Maybe playing a symbiotic role within the body.” He half-shrugged.

  “Interesting.” Khaled’s jaw tightened. “In the old monastery, we encountered a similar thing – worms, and they too erupted from the cadaver – millions upon millions of them. They also infected one of our men. He died.”

  Rachel gripped the edge of the table. “Describe them.”

  “Thread-like, clear and shining like tiny streaks of glass,” Khaled said. “They were filling the preserved body to the point that when they exited, the entire body, collapsed to nothing.”

  Eleanor’s mouth turned down in disgust. “Revolting.” She shut her eyes and shuddered.

  Rachel’s brows were knitted. “We could find no obvious way the worms benefitted from their host, other than being housed within them. We thought it was some sort of symbiotic relationship, and we did find that they excreted a human hormone – FGF21 – the one responsible for health and longevity.”

  “Longevity?” Khaled’s smile returned. “Then that would be why the sarcophagus identified the body as being that of Shem, the son of Noah.”

  “Shem?” Matt’s eyes were wide. “And you said he was identified, how; was there pictoglyphs, writing?” Matt was stunned and sat staring at the man for several seconds.

  “Yes, there was writing, but I couldn’t decipher much of it. It was a little like Hebrew, but the inscriptions, the sarcophagus design and its symbolism were lost to me. But I believe the monetary was built just for him. It was a crypt, but even though the historical legends stated the building was destroyed, it was actually hidden by the construction of the roof.”

  “Did you bring back any proof?” Rachel asked. “I mean, the son of Noah. That’s a big call, and frankly, one that is hard to swallow.”

  “What?” Khaled looked confused.

  “I mean anything, a lock of hair, a scrap of clothing, a tiny piece of rock with this strange writing on it.” Her eyes narrowed.

  Khaled shook his head. “No, we were a little… pressed for time as we departed.”

  “A cave-in?” Matt asked.

  “That and something else, worse.” Khaled’s vision seemed to turn inward. “Like I said, I lost good men.”

  Matt leaned forward on his elbows. “What did you see? What was it?”

  “There was…” Khaled paled slightly. “There was something in there, the cave, alive. Huge, it attacked us.”

  Matt felt his own heart begin to race. “Something big, yellow eyes like saucers, fast, strong.”

  Khaled lunged forward. “You’ve seen it too?”

  “I’ve seen something. I think it was a Nephilim, a sentinel.” Matt said.

  Rachel shook her head. “One of Matt’s fallen angels.”

  “They’re biblical guardians,” Matt added.

  Khaled exhaled. “Guarding Shem’s body. Yes, it makes sense.”

  The silence stretched for a few seconds, before Rachel tilted her head. “And I take it, you saw the Ark as well?

  “I never said anything about the Ark.” Khaled lifted his chin. “In fact, I don’t think the Ark ever made it to the Ararat or any of the surrounding mountains. That was a story that gained currency when the Bible was written, thousands of years after the actual event.”

  “I knew it.” Matt wiped some crumbs from his mouth.

  “And I believe sometimes, some things are not meant to be discovered.” Khaled tilted his head toward Matt. “I put it to you, Professor Kearns, that the Ark is not, and never was, on Mount Ararat. Instead what lay there was the remains of one of Noah’s sons, still looking like he could sit up and talk.”

  “Then why didn’t he?” Matt looked at Rachel. “If these… worm things are so
good at longevity, why wasn’t he still alive? After all, the Bible mentions that Noah was fathering children at the age of 500 and lived to be over 900.”

  “Maybe they do somehow consume their host eventually,” Khaled said. “Maybe after so long, Shem had just given up.” He sat back.

  “I don’t know; the FBI scientist suggested they could possibly be a super-efficient parasite,” Rachel said. “Maybe they don’t even know they are benefitting us and are just keeping us up and running as a mobile house and food source – the longer we’re alive, the longer they have a meals on wheels.”

  “Yech.” Matt grimaced.

  “Yes, both fascinating and revolting. But the mystery is why haven’t we known about these creatures before?” Khaled asked.

  “I bet someone does. And that someone isn’t too keen for anyone else to find out – remember the beheaded and burned bodies, and the murdered families.” Matt looked back to Rachel. “And I’m betting they’ll do anything to protect their secrets.”

  “Well then.” Khaled slapped the table. “Then we need to know their secrets. Once we find the answers, then they have nothing to protect anymore.”

  “And that brings us to our problem.” Matt put a few more sandwiches on his plate. “We now believe we have a map, or at least a fragment of one. But no points of reference – it could be anywhere in the Middle East, and that’s an area you don’t exactly go about doing too many exploratories.”

  Khaled snorted. “I wouldn’t exactly recommend doing too many meanderings in some of your cities after dark either, Professor.” Khaled grinned. “We’re close now. You see, clues are like stepping-stones; our next one is probably right before us. We just need to find it.”

  Rachel sat back. “Golly, why didn’t we think of that?”

  “Jesus, Rachel.” Matt scowled at her, and turned to Khaled. “Go on; what are you thinking?”

  “If what we seek is in the past – then that’s where we must look. Firstly, let’s think about our problem logically, and not just biblically.” Khaled lifted a glass of water, and looked into it. “Let’s begin with the flood.”