Death in the Beginning (The God Tools Book 1)

by Gary Williams

  The lead police car had outrun the airplane to the intersection. It skidded to a halt, and the officer jumped out. The cruiser was squarely in the path of the oncoming plane. The craft picked up speed, but the gap was closing quickly. If she did not get airborne in time, it meant certain death. Even if she did, if the wheels clipped the cruiser, they would tumble back onto the runway, and the plane would be shredded.

  Tina, Tina, Tina, she repeated to motivate herself.

  The plane shot along the runway. They were so close that Sherri could see the expression on the police officer’s face even with the faint light.

  It was now or never.

  Sherri held her breath and pulled back on the yoke at the instant the plane reached rotation speed, but it was too late. She would never clear the cruiser. The Cessna lifted off and she mentally braced for impact. Sherri felt her stomach lurch upon contact. The jar was only momentary, and the forward momentum never slowed. Miraculously, the wheels skimmed over the top of the squad car. She kept the yoke back. The airplane banked upward at a sharp incline, soaring into the dark night and leaving behind the cluster of police vehicles with their red and blue lights shocking the darkness below. They had made it.

  Sherri could barely breathe.

  Scott and Curt each released a gasp.

  “Geez, that was close,” Marvin said.

  Sherri exhaled, and waited for her heart to stop racing. Go through the procedures. She reset the trim for climb, and retracted the gear. Turning, she banked the craft left and ascended to a thousand feet over the tree line.

  Sherri wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand. She was aware Curt was watching her.

  “They know we stole a plane. Won’t they send someone after us?” Marvin asked.

  Sherri replied, “They’ll alert the Air National Guard. I’m not sure what the response will be. I’m going to stay low and hopefully off radar. Chances are, they won’t be able to find us. I assume most of the manpower has been diverted to support evacuations anyway.”

  “I’ve got the information for Dekle Beach,” Scott said.

  “Curt, please type in the waypoint here as Scott reads off the coordinates.” She pointed to one of two high-resolution, color LCDs before them.

  Curt did as instructed, entering the numbers as Scott provided the longitude and latitude for Dekle Beach. “This says it would normally take just over an hour to reach Dekle Beach, but with the head winds we’re flying into, it’ll take a little longer.” Sherri turned on the autopilot and set back in immense relief.

  “Sherri, not to be critical, but have you flown for long? You seemed to be a little flustered on takeoff? I mean even before you had to avoid the police cruiser,” Curt asked.

  “Well…um…I’ve got quite a few hours in the air. I just…uh… don’t officially have my pilot’s license.”

  “What do you mean ‘officially’?” Scott asked.

  “I’ve passed the written test. I just didn’t pass my check ride…yet.”

  Curt added, “I know I’m going to regret this, but can I ask why you failed?”

  Sherri focused straight ahead, regripped the yoke, and spoke softly. She knew the words were inaudible over the drumming of the propeller.

  “Say again?”

  “I didn’t pass the preflight checklist, okay! Don’t worry, I know how to fly. I’ve logged many hours of solo daytime flying. I will admit I don’t have much experience at night…any, actually.”

  Curt sighed, leaning back.

  “I can see where you two would get along,” Marvin quipped. “You both do things by the seat of your pants.”

  Sherri turned to Curt with a dim smile. “I’ve got to fly by instruments. I need you guys to keep a lookout for anything that might be airborne.”

  Curt started to say something then paused before continuing. “Since there’s been no time for formal introductions, Sherri Falco, this is our friend, Professor Marvin Sellon.”

  “Nice to meet you, dear,” Marvin said.

  “Likewise,” Sherri turned to the backseat with a nod.

  “Marvin, did they hurt you?” Scott asked.

  “Fortunately, no. They wanted the Fish and only kept me alive, I believe, because they were trying to figure out how to use it. As soon as they got me there, I was tucked in that room and never saw a thing. I heard some pretty weird noises, though.”

  Curt spoke, “Was Dr. Travis Peklis there? We know he’s involved.”

  “Peklis is involved?” There was surprise in his voice. “No, I never saw him.”

  Scott spoke, looking down at his iPhone. “I’ve got Shottier’s address at Dekle Beach. He’s the second house at the northern end on the waterfront.”

  “Damn, it’s on the beach,” Sherri said.

  “We’ll get there in time, Sherri,” Curt tried to reassure her.

  “How are you getting reception in a plane?” Marvin asked Scott.

  “Satellite coverage, Marvin,” Scott said. “You’d be surprised what they’re doing with technology these days. You should get one.”

  Marvin ignored the remark. “Now, will somebody please tell me why we’re flying into the teeth of a hurricane?” Marvin asked.

  Scott, Curt, and Sherri explained to Marvin everything that had happened. Scott handed Marvin the broken electronic receiver. “Sydney said this device can track Tina by her bracelet. Unfortunately, it’s broken. See what you can do with it, Marvin. It’d be nice to get confirmation on her position.”

  “At a minimum, I need screwdrivers.”

  “Check around. Most small planes have a set of tools stored somewhere inside,” Sherri said.

  “Got it,” Curt said, pulling a small bag out from under his seat containing screwdrivers, wrenches, pliers, and a small flashlight. He handed it to Marvin.

  Sherri turned on the satellite radio for an update on Hurricane Elena. As feared, it would make landfall on Florida’s west coast near Dekle Beach shortly after they reached the Gulf Coast. It was still a Category 1 hurricane, with sustained winds at 78 miles per hour. If there was a bright spot, it was that Elena was a mild storm compared to Fernando, which would slam into St. Augustine at daybreak as a Category 5 hurricane.

  They contemplated calling the authorities near Dekle Beach, but in the end, Sherri decided against it, concerned it would backfire on them and authorities would track down the plane and stop them before they got near the coast. Besides, how could they explain the threat of a 500-year-old French Huguenot woman without sounding deranged?

  For nearly 45 minutes the cabin remained quiet as they flew over the dark landscape. Sherri felt her anxiety building with each passing minute.

  Fifteen minutes from their destination, the airplane began to experience turbulence as the weather turned foul in the midst of the approaching hurricane. Ahead, Sherri could see the lightning strikes shrouded within white clouds lining the horizon.

  “If it makes you feel any better,” Sherri explained, “every exterior surface of this airplane contains lightning mesh to dissipate lightning strikes. Besides, we’re not grounded anyway.”

  “I’d feel better if we avoided lightning strikes altogether,” Curt responded.

  “So what are we supposed to do with the Fish when we get there? Sydney never told us,” Scott asked.

  Curt shrugged.

  ****

  Lila used the penlight to guide her back to the wall with the recess. The opening led into a circular shaft. With the weak light, she was unable to see the end of the tunnel. Cautiously, she pushed forward, thankful for the smooth footing of stone. The circumference of the shaft was roughly six feet and uniform. She kept careful watch on the floor. She feared stepping into an opening and plummeting to her death.

  The shaft continued on a level plane. She had lost all sense of direction when she had dropped into the lower cave
. If she were moving toward the side of the mountain they had scaled to get here, she was sure she would have reached the boundary by now. It was evident by how far she had come that she was aimed toward the back side of the mountain where the gradient was less severe and the mountain fanned out at a diminished angle. Despite seeing no light ahead, she was somewhat encouraged that the tunnel seemed endless. There was a chance it would lead to an opening.

  The shaft took a slow, sauntering turn to the left and dipped downward.

  The farther she went, the farther she knew she was going down into the mountain. Lila stopped to wipe her brow. The tunnel was getting warmer, and she thought she felt brief air movement. She stood very still. The air was lifeless.

  Did I imagine it? she wondered.

  She pressed on, far less confident now that she had made the right decision to follow the tunnel. With the direction and angle of the tunnel, she had to concede the odds were it would lead her deeper into the mountain with no chance of ever reaching the surface.

  She was thirsty.

  She had a decision to make. Return to the cave underneath the demolished cathedral room and wait for help or continue on into uncertainty. Realistically, Lila knew help could take days to reach her.

  She shined the penlight ahead. The tiny beam was sucked up in the darkness.

  “Follow your instincts, Lila,” she urged herself. “It may be the last chance you get to do it.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Wednesday, August 18, 1:10 a.m. – Flying toward Dekle Beach, Florida

  “This creature obviously has biblical powers,” Marvin said. “We just need to figure out how to use it.”

  “Can we please stay away from the biblical stuff? Please?” Scott asked in frustration. “There’s no doubt this creature has some bizarre things going on. Touch it to water, and it comes back to life, and supposedly it can keep someone alive a long time if you sacrifice a detached finger for it to eat. It does have one hell of an appetite, but there’s no proof it’s a tool of God, and I haven’t seen any hard evidence to say that it’s Noah’s pet Fish.”

  Curt turned to Scott. “What about the cave on Isla de la Palma? What about the information Lila told us about the Flood story? Are you going to ignore irrefutable evidence?”

  “We all know The Great Flood story was known in one form or another by many ancient civilizations, including The Epic of Gilgamesh from ancient Mesopotamia. It’s very probable that someone in antiquity created the cave drawings based on stories passed down to them from prior generations of early man.”

  Curt shook his head from side to side. “After all we’ve seen?”

  “Look, I’ll prove it to you. How many paired pictures did you and Lila find on the cave walls?” Scott asked. “Approximately.”

  “We estimated 28,000, give or take a few thousand.”

  “Marvin, correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t there millions of species of animals in the world?” Scott asked.

  “Just over a million.”

  “So Noah didn’t bother to take them all?” Scott asked cynically.

  Marvin replied, “True, there are more than a million species of animals, but Noah would only need to transport those incapable of surviving in water. There are over 145,000 species of water-dwelling creatures such as fish, crustaceans, corals, jellyfish, and sponges which you can wipe off the list. Another 30,000 protozoans can also be eliminated. You can also exclude aquatic mammals, amphibians, and reptiles. Most of the 840,000 arthropods such as shrimp, barnacles, and crabs would not have needed a seat on the boat, and many of the 30,000-plus species of worms, birds, and many insects could also have made it without hitching a ride in the Ark. Biblical scholars have reasoned as few as 25,000 pairs of animals may have been aboard.”

  Scott seemed a bit flustered. “Okay, then answer this: there’s not a ship around today that could carry such a load of cargo. How do you explain that, especially when you have animals the size of giraffes and elephants?”

  Marvin smiled. “Think practically. The Bible never states Noah took full-grown animals. It stands to reason that, in order to maximize space, it would make much more sense to take the young.”

  Curt raised his eyebrows and tipped his head as if the thought had never occurred to him.

  “And look at the size of the Ark,” Marvin continued. “From what we know about a cubit, this vessel would have been over 70 feet wide and more than 450 feet long. It would have also been 50 feet tall. Based on the premise Noah brought along young animals, let’s estimate the average animal to be the size of a German Shepherd. Using the dimensions I just referenced, the animals would have filled up less than 40 percent of the Ark.”

  “Don’t forget, too, the Indian text I found referenced that the ‘Fish was given to the elder to assist man and creatures, and that it could calm the waters.’ The assisting man and creatures part seems obvious now. By utilizing the Fish, the inhabitants of the Ark could keep both the human and animal passengers alive for an extremely long time. This would have been paramount to the repopulation of Earth.

  “The more interesting phrase, which may be pertinent to our current situation, is the calm the waters statement. This gives the impression Noah used the Fish to somehow make the rain and tumultuous flooding stop after the forty days and forty nights.”

  “So maybe it can halt a hurricane,” Curt added.

  “But how?” Sherri asked as she remained focused ahead.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Thursday, August 18, 1:10 a.m. EST US (6:10 a.m. DST.) – Isla de la Palma

  Lila continued on through the tunnel. The walls remained perfectly round. For some time, the decline had been constant, sending her farther down into the mountain. Now the tunnel abruptly changed. The pathway ramped up moderately. It was somewhat encouraging. Still, her penlight showed nothing ahead beyond steady darkness. She perspired, as the trek upward turned arduous.

  On and on she went. Her resolve to find the tunnel’s end was fading fast. Each step tired her and made her thirstier. Without water, she would not survive down here for long. It felt like utter futility to keep going.

  Why did I leave the cave?

  Lila stopped to catch her breath.

  Not prone to claustrophobia, a small measure of confinement settled in. For the first time, she considered the very real possibility she would not make it out alive. Lila thought of her life, her accomplishments, her failed marriage to Curt. There was so much more she wanted to do and see.

  Dwelling on the past would not accomplish anything. She had to remain focused and active. She forced herself to press on, to not give up. Her two graduate students were dead, one brutally murdered. She wanted justice.

  Lila felt a puff of air on her leg. She looked down wondering if it had been her imagination.

  There it was again. Air was coming from somewhere close. Kneeling, she extended her good hand just above the ground. She felt it again: a nearly steady stream of moving air. Lila dropped to her hands and knees, and crawled over the smooth floor, using her hand to gauge where the air was coming from. The farther she went, the stronger the flow became. Her excitement grew.

  After several minutes of crawling, she came upon a section of the tunnel where a pile of rubble bordered the left side of the tunnel, stretching downward across the width of the passageway.

  Lila stood and surveyed it with the penlight. There was no visible opening. Kneeling, she once again located the steady stream of air. It was coming from somewhere at the base of the pile. Lila set the penlight on the ground, propping it on a smaller rock. She began pulling away the rubble, starting from the top.

  Fortunately, most of the stones were small. She was able to roll the larger chunks out of the way, being careful with her injured finger. Sweat was sliding down both sides of her face as she worked with renewed determination. Minutes passed, and she cleared down to the bottom l
ayer.

  The air flow was stronger now.

  Excitedly, Lila raked the final layer away. She was elated to see a slot in the wall at the base where light filtered through the stirred dust. It was no more than a foot and a half tall, but large enough for her to squeeze through. She dropped to her stomach and quickly pressed through.

  Lila had never been so happy to see the morning sunrise in all her life. Outside, inhaling the cool air, she sat and looked around. She was on the far side of the mountain from where she had originally entered the cave.

  Lila rose. Now that she had made it out, the yearning for justice returned. She was anxious to get to town and alert the authorities before the killer had a chance to leave the island. His face was indelibly etched in her mind, and she would be able to give an exact description to the police.

  Lila looked down. To her dismay, the man stood on the ridge not far from the base of the mountain. Even from this distance, she was sure it was him.

  She scurried to the side, making her way around the mountain. Her wounded finger ached more now, but she tried to force the pain from her mind. She periodically stopped to hide behind a boulder, outcropping of rock, or retreating within a crevice to monitor the man. He seemed distracted, looking down, sometimes writing on a pad. So far, she had gone unnoticed. Her adrenaline kicked in, and she moved faster, staying to cover when she could, moving as covertly as possible.

  She had to get back around to the far side of the mountain where her rented SUV was parked in the secluded valley below.

  Soon, to her relief, she had circled far enough around the mountain that the man had no line of sight to her. She breathed heavily, drenched in perspiration by the time she finally saw the small plateau that led to the cathedral cave. From here she could make her way down the mountain, escape, and get to the authorities.

  Within minutes, she reached the flatland, where she was shielded by woods. She took a trail through the trees. When the path opened to a glade, she was relieved to see the SUV still there beside a newly-formed pond of rainwater which had accumulated within the last week. Lila fetched the keys from her pocket and pressed the remote key to unlock. Opening the door, she climbed in, and jammed the key in the ignition. She was just about to crank the engine when a warning went off in her mind.