Em and Kainda look at me. “If they were taken, where are the tracks?”
The three of us scour the area. The big Nephilim’s footprints are easy to spot, and where he came from is clear. But how he left…
“It’s like he flew away,” Em says.
Kainda scoffs. “The masters cannot fly.”
No one argues, though I’m not so sure. The Gigantes in Tartarus had no trouble flying. And the scorpion-like tail in the thinker lab hinted that experiments had been done using attributes of the old Nephilim.
Before I have time to consider the possibilities, gunshots echo in the distance. The staccato picks up and I can hear Nephilim shouting war cries. A battle is being fought nearby. I intend to join it.
I break into a sprint, heading downhill toward the sound of a river. The trees thin and I catch a glimpse of a tall mountain just a few miles away. But it’s more than a mountain. It’s a city, built right into the stone, or carved out of it. I slow, looking at the amazing structure. It’s stunning and horrifying.
“Olympus,” I say.
Kainda and Em slow and look. “I’ve never seen it like this,” Kainda says, her voice sharing a little bit of the awe I feel.
Em brings us back to reality, saying, “It’s a horrible place.”
With that, I turn my head downward and start to run. The sound of the river is louder and I can smell the moisture in the air. Once we reach the river, we can—
The ground shakes. A boom louder than anything I’ve ever heard rolls past. We stumble, fall and slide to a stop just as the shaking fades. The river is just twenty feet bellow.
“What was that!?” Em shouts.
Kainda is quick to her feet, hand on hammer, looking for danger.
I, on the other hand, sit still and listen. That was an explosion. A very large one. And explosions that big can have aftereffects. A distant roar confirms my fear. As it grows louder, I stand and motion for Kainda and Em to run away. “Run! Get higher!”
“What?” Kainda is offended that I would retreat. “Why?”
“The river!” I shout. The roar nearly drowns out my voice. “It’s flooding! Run!”
As I run, I look to the side and see a wall of water tearing through the jungle, heading straight for us.
31
There’s no time to run up the hillside, so we take to the trees instead, climbing the tall trunks like chimps. We reach the canopy just before the water hits. The roar beneath us sounds like Behemoth—powerful and hungry. I move across the canopy, trying to reach the river’s edge and maybe get a glimpse of what’s happening.
The trees shake when the water strikes. I lose my grip and fall a few feet, but catch myself. The fall didn’t feel dangerous, but when I look down, I realize I nearly lost my life. I’m dangling over the river with no other branches beneath me. It’s a fifty-foot fall into a raging torrent. The river has grown and expanded into the jungle on either side, and if I fell, it’s possible that I’d be swept into a tree and knocked unconscious—if not snapped in half. Either way, I’d likely drown. I pull myself back up as the water deepens and speeds up.
Looking upriver, I see a frothing crest of water perhaps twenty feet tall, rushing through the trees. This is going to get worse before it gets better. “Hold on!” I shout, but I don’t think anyone can hear me above the water’s roar.
I swing myself up onto a branch and wrap my arms and legs around it like I’m a sloth. The water approaches as though in slow motion. I can’t take my eyes off it. It’s A force of nature. Seeing the water reminds me of the flooded underworld. Had the rushing waters looked like this? I decide against it. With so many underworld species now flourishing on the surface, they had time to get out. But Behemoth, trapped underground, found its chamber slowly flooded and eventually drowned.
A speck on the crest of the approaching wave catches my attention. There are trees and other debris pushed by the raging waters, but this object has the distinctive shape of a boat. A wooden boat. And it rides the wave like a surfer. How is it not being smashed into the jungle, I wonder, and then I see a man—a human—at the back, guiding the thing with a large rudder. The craft looks like an unfinished yacht without a mast. It stretches at least twenty-five feet. But it’s also clearly not designed for people. Instead, I suspect it’s something closer to a Nephilim rowboat, designed to carry just two of the giants. But to what?
My question fades as I look at the other passengers. There is a thin man with tan skin whose uniform I recognize as Chinese. A survivor of the Nephilim attack? Another looks to be Arab, but I’m not sure and then there is a black woman. But she’s not dressed in military clothing like the rest, she’s—Aimee!
The boat is swept beneath me and I see her face. And next to her—Merrill! A blond mop of hair whips my head toward the center of the boat so fast that I nearly fall out of the tree.
Mira.
Seeing her face brings tears to my eyes. My old friend… I thought I’d never see her again. Or Merrill. And yet, they’re all here and reunited. How they managed to find each other and escape Olympus is beyond me. But they did it.
I hear voices rise up from below.
“Whitney!” It’s the man at the rudder. His face looks Hispanic. His clothing is black. Military. U.S. I’d guess. “How are we doing, chica?”
I’m surprised when it’s Mira who replies. “Keep to the left, Cruz.”
Their voices fade as the craft moves past.
I shout to them, desperate. “Mira! Merrill! Aimee! Up here!”
My voice is lost in the roar of the river.
For a moment, I think they’re looking at me, but they’re not. They’re looking beyond me. At the sky.
What are they watching for?
The boat is carried quickly away, and if the man, Cruz, can keep them in the middle of the river, they won’t slow until reaching the lake.
With my friends out of reach, my thoughts return to the question of why Mira responded to the name, Whitney. Did she change her name? Was it some kind of military code name? Her middle name? None of these possibilities rings true. Then what?
She called the man Cruz, which is a common Hispanic last name. So he was probably using her last name, too. Whitney. Mirabelle Whitney, not Mirabelle Clark. She’s married. The answer fills me with jealously and anger.
Granted, I knew she would be older than me, and that there was a possibility of her being married, or even being a mother. But the reality of it hurts. It’s not like she was ever my girlfriend. I didn’t even know her that long. But her photo carried me for so long that I guess I became attached. And her being married, for some strange psychological reason, feels like a betrayal. She lived her life without me.
And that means everyone else did, too.
Merrill.
Justin.
My parents.
They all lived on without me. They all went to parties. Saw movies. Vacationed. Laughed. Loved.
Without me.
The realization stings.
I know it’s selfish, but I can’t stop it.
I can’t, but something else can. A shadow. It moves across the river so quickly that I’m not sure I actually saw something. How could a shadow fall on the river, anyway?
If it were flying, I realize, turning my head up.
It’s just a speck when I see it, circling like some kind of predatory bird. But it looks far too high, which means it’s also quite large. Hanging onto my perch with one hand, I take out my telescope and extend it using my teeth. With the spectacle to my eye, I try to find the airborne figure. It takes some time to zero in on the moving target, but when I do, I gasp.
Enki.
With the wings of a Gigantes.
And the tail of Cronus the Titan.
The thinkers somehow managed to imbue the Nephilim warriors with attributes previously held only by the eldest of their kind. That’s how they’re going to reach the world, I realize. Antarctica might now reside at the equator, but an ocean still separat
es the continent from the rest of the world.
They’re going to fly to the mainland. I remember the small boat. The river is now deep enough to carry much larger vessels. Maybe they’ll even sail to the mainland?
Enki is brother to Enlil. Together, they are the sons of Nephil and kings of the Sumerian Nephilim, the most ancient and powerful warrior clan. Next to Nephil, who now resides in Ninnis’s body, they are the rulers of the underworld, commanders of a supernatural force beyond the comprehension of mankind.
So the question is, why is Enki here?
As he swoops downriver, the answer is clear. He’s after the Clarks. Why he’s after them is beyond me, and frankly, unimportant. What is important is that the Clarks escape. That doesn’t seem likely if Enki is tracking them though.
I glance to the right, looking up river. Olympus rises high into the sky. Hades is there and the secret resting place of the Jericho Shofar with him. My answers and perhaps the only hope of defeating the Nephilim wait to the right.
To the left are the Clarks. My friends. And they’re about to face Enki on their own.
The decision is easy.
I’m nothing if not loyal.
I slide to the side of the branch, hanging by one arm. If I can keep myself afloat in the middle of the raging river, I should arrive at the lake just minutes after the Clarks. I might not be able to reach them in the water, but if Enki sees me, I have no doubt he’ll forget all about the Clarks.
I let go.
My fall snaps to a stop after just a few inches. A vice grip of pressure sends a wave of pain down my arm. I’m pulled up until I come face to face with a very angry hunter.
“What are you doing?” Kainda says. She’s standing on the branch and holding onto one above her with her free hand. That she’s strong enough to lift me up with one arm is impressive. Unlike Em, Kainda has muscles that match mine.
Em slides through the canopy and joins us. The look of concern means she didn’t see Kainda catch me. She only knows that Kainda is holding me out over the river. But her trust in Kainda is evident. She doesn’t draw a knife. She simply says, “What happened?”
Kainda either doesn’t hear the question or ignores it. She has some of her own. “Why were you leaving?”
Before I can think of a good reply, she comes up with an answer herself. “Just one look at her and you were going to leave! I—we mean so little to you?”
Em inches closer. “What are you talking about?”
“Mira.” Kainda says the name with disdain. “And the teacher, Aimee. They just passed in a ship.”
Em’s eyes widen. “Is this true?”
“Yes,” I say, and try to explain, but Em interrupts.
“And you were leaving?” I can hear the sting of betrayal in her voice too.
I sense that Kainda is about to speak again so I shout, “Shut up! Both of you!”
Kainda allows me to stand on the branch. My wrist is sore from where she gripped it, but I can’t rub it with my other hand without falling from the branch. So I ignore the pain and say, “Yes, the Clarks just went by in a boat. Merrill was with them. And three other men. Soldiers, I think.”
Em interrupts with, “But why—”
“Enki!” I shout, freezing both of them in place. “Enki was following them! And they don’t stand a chance unless I go help! I know Hades is near, but they are my friends and I never—” I look into Kainda’s eyes, “—never abandon my friends.”
I look to Em. She nods, understanding.
I don’t wait for Kainda to say whether she understands. We can work it out later. Right now, the Clarks need my help. I swing down on the branch, take a look at the river below, and let go. The cold water envelops me and yanks me forward. As I surface, I hear two splashes behind me. I spin and find Kainda and Em swimming toward me, closing the distance. I catch Kainda’s eyes and mouth, “Thank you.”
In response Kainda swims past me and says, “She better be worth it.”
32
The river is a battle. We’re making ground fast. Probably too fast. Every tree and boulder carries a potential death sentence. The key is to stay in the middle, where the water was already deepest, but even here there are dangers, exhaustion being the first. Swimming in placid water can be tiring, even just treading water. I went to a summer camp once. They had a pool with a deep end. To swim in the deep end you had to pass a test—tread water with just your feet for one minute, while holding a brick.
I tried three times. I never passed.
This…is harder.
The brick has been replaced by the weight of Whipsnap around my waist. Kainda carries the weight of her stone hammer. And Em, who is the smallest of us, carries countless knives around her waist and across her chest. I’m not sure how long we’ve been swimming. It’s hard to keep track of time while trying not to be impaled, bludgeoned or drowned. But my arms are burning from the effort and I’m pretty sure my legs will turn to jelly if I try to walk. If we manage to catch up to the Clark family, I’m not sure how much use any of us are going to be.
I look at Kainda. Her brow is furrowed with determination, but her lips are shivering.
I’m about ten feet ahead of her, so when I ask, “Are you okay?” I have to shout.
She just glares back at me, not because she’s angry about what we’re doing, but because I asked the question. I’m no mind reader, but Kainda is easy to understand.
Behind Kainda, Em has the same look on her face. The look of a hunter. These two women are dangerous. If only my parents could see me now, floating down a raging river with two of the most dangerous women on Antarctica, if not the planet, racing toward an encounter with a half-human, half-demon worshiped as a god in the ancient world. I’m not sure they would call me ‘Schwartz’ anymore. Doesn’t quite fit like it used to.
A spear of brown moving behind Em catches my attention. It’s a large tree trunk and it actually looks like it was logged—no roots, no branches—rather than pulled over by the flooded river. Why the Nephilim would be cutting down trees, I have no idea. Nor do I care. I’m more focused on the respite the twenty-foot hunk of wood promises.
I point toward the approaching tree trunk. “Grab hold of it!”
Both women look at me like I better not be thinking they need a rest, which I’m sure they do, so I come up with another reason. “It’s streamlined. Moving faster than us. We’ll make better time.”
This seems to make sense to Kainda and Em, or at least provides an acceptable excuse, and when the log catches up, they both grab hold. The log pulls them closer to me and I grab hold too, careful not to pull too hard and roll it. Kainda is on the other side of the log. Em is to my right. No one says a word. Hunters or not, they’re exhausted. We hold on and let the river take us.
But it’s not long before the river slows and widens. “We’re nearing the lake,” I say.
“Do you see them?” Em asks.
I can’t see anything with my head just above water. “We need to get to shore.” I push off the log and my body groans as I begin to swim. Em and Kainda follow without complaint, but none of us are moving too quickly. The river merges with the jungle. Where once there was a shoreline, there is now an endless pool of foot-deep water.
Reaching the shallows of the jungle, I get my feet beneath me and stand.
And then fall.
My legs are all but useless.
Thinking of Mira, I pull myself up again, using a tree for support.
“I don’t think we’re far from the lake,” Em says. She’s leaning against a tree, too. “I recognize the trees here.”
Kainda stands behind her, relying on just her legs to hold her up. I suspect the strength that holds her up has more to do with internal fortitude than the power of her muscles. “It’s not far,” she confirms, pointing down river. The canopy stretches for perhaps two hundred feet, casting the flooded jungle in shade. Beyond that, I see slivers of blue light where the tree line ends and the lake begins.
I t
ake a furtive step and my leg wobbles. But I stay up. I yank Whipsnap from my belt and place the heavy mace end in the water, using it to support my weight as I’ve done before.
“Lead the way, old man,” Kainda says.
I’m too tired and focused on the Clarks to offer some kind of retort, so I just set out for the lake, moving as quickly as I can without collapsing. Our approach is clumsy and loud as we splash through the floodwaters. But I suspect time is short. Fifty feet from the lake’s edge, I’m moving at a fast hobble. I hear voices in the distance. Shouts.
A shadow flickers over the canopy. No! I’m too late!
I try to run, but fall, landing in the shallow water.
Kainda grabs my arm and yanks me up. We keep moving.
There’s an explosion, muffled by water. I move faster. The blinding shimmer of sunlight on water is just ahead.
In the distance, Enki’s deep voice is speaking.
I slash at some branches blocking our path and then lunge through, reaching the lake’s edge. I see the boat, far out in the lake, but no movement on board. But the boat holds my attention for just a moment. Between the shore and the boat, fifty feet above the water, is Enki. His bat-like wings beat at the air, keeping him aloft. And his long, scorpion tail twitches back and forth like an angry cat’s. His head hair, which isn’t covered by any kind of helmet, billows in the wind. He looks huge, and frightening, and he’s dressed for war in ornate metal armor. What human military force could face down a monster like Enki, let alone an army of them, and not simply run in fear?
An army of hunters, I think. But then I see Mira, clutched in his hands. She’s speaking to him. Her words are lost over the distance, but the tone is angry and defiant. She has grown into a strong woman. Like Em. Like Kainda. But in the hands of a Nephilim like Enki, her defiance will soon be crushed out of her.
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