Sherri continued her descent, and Curt found himself involuntarily holding his breath. The wind came in erratic gusts, and the nose dipped hard, forcing Sherri to pull back on the yoke and drop the flaps to slow the air speed. For a moment, Curt thought the small plane was going to flip completely over, and he gripped his seat belt, but the wind relented long enough for Sherri to drop the nose as they approached the ground. The wheels slammed onto the hard beach, and the plane trundled along the narrow shore. Sherri fought against the wind, keeping the plane straight and braking hard. The plane continued to taxi at a high velocity along the smooth beach.
“C’mon baby…slow down, slow down!” Sherri begged. Homes shot by on the left. The end of the beach quickly came into view. The good news was that they were not going to reach the inland channel. The bad news was that a solid, cement breakwall would stop them first.
“C’mon, baby, stop!” Sherri yelled, smashing the brake. Curt braced for impact.
The plane rolled along, still screaming toward the wall. It was seconds from impact when a prolonged, providential gust of wind hit the nose. The craft slowed, then came to a merciful stop barely two feet from the breakwall.
Everyone in the cabin released a collective sigh of relief.
The wind hissed across the wings and fuselage. In the next instant, Sherri dashed out the plane door. Curt turned to the back. “See if you can do anything with this,” he said, handing the Fish to Scott. Then he left, chasing after Sherri, fighting against the blustery wind.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Thursday, August 18, 1:12 a.m. – Dekle Beach, Florida
Sitting in the cabin, Scott turned to Marvin, speechless. He held up the small skeleton of the Fish with a blank stare. “What the hell are we supposed to do with this?”
“I don’t know, Scott, but hurricane-force winds will be here in about a half hour, so whatever we’re going to do, we’d better do it fast.”
The two men exited the plane. The wind kept the temperature moderate. Whitecaps dotted the dim, watery horizon. Sea foam fluttered onto the beach like tumbleweeds caught in the wind. The air whistled past Scott’s ears and sent his blond hair waving across his eyes.
He turned to Marvin standing beside him. Scott’s disappointment was immeasurable. “Why, Marvin?”
Marvin looked away in obvious shame. Then his eyes met Scott’s. “It’s not what you think, I promise you,” Marvin said with a pained expression. “When did you find out?”
“On the way to the Blue Council building. I was playing with my phone when I realized the last four numbers in the email, ‘[email protected]’ could spell ‘Pekl’ or ‘Sell’, as in Sellon; Marvin Sellon. You. When we didn’t see Travis Peklis at the building, I knew. Then I saw your picture on the wall. It was the one used in the Florida State directory when I was attending college there. It also explained why Shottier let you live. You were one of them. Why did you do it, Marvin?”
“I confess I am with the Blue Council, but I was not part of the splinter group who sought the answer to Pinot LeFlore’s longevity. Unfortunately, Sydney had joined them, but he quickly realized his mistake. I communicated to Sydney via email in order to help him. Together, we discovered a third LeFlore sibling had come to Florida in the 1500s. Sydney found text in a diary of a Spanish soldier who had served at the Castillo in 1698 that mentioned the capture of two French citizens, a brother and a sister, who were incarcerated. They were referred to as demonic and put away for eternity. With this combined information, Sydney surmised the text referred to Pinot LeFlore and his sister, and that she might also be sealed in the Castillo. If Sydney could get to her and find out how the longevity was achieved, we could keep the secret away from the fragmented group. Sydney became concerned when he knew Sherri was going to be in town. As a last resort, he thought he could use the secret as a bargaining chip if Shottier threatened Sherri’s safety to get Sydney’s cooperation.”
“Why keep the secret from them?”
“Isn’t it obvious, Scott? The Fish gives almost endless life. For the first several hundred years, a person who has sacrificed his finger becomes invincible, not to mention the person never has to eat or breathe again. That was learned from Pinot LeFlore’s autopsy, which became public knowledge more than the police will ever admit. Can you imagine if such an otherworldly power fell into terrorist hands? An army of invincible soldiers? The world as we know it would be over. A single army of men could decimate every country on Earth.
“Sydney had joined Harvey Shottier and the others in the search for the truth when he thought it was for their exclusive use. Then Shottier convinced the others of the vast wealth they could gain by ‘marketing’ the creature, selling its use to others for billions and billions of dollars. Sydney wanted nothing to do with it, but Harvey was killing everyone who opposed him, making the deaths appear accidental. Rumor has it that he killed Officer Miles Nasherton and Park Ranger Martin John because Harvey suspected they were in collusion to find the secret and keep any money the group made for themselves. God knows he was furious at Nasherton for killing Pinot in the first place, since they might have learned the secret to longevity faster.”
“Was this splinter group responsible for the attack on Lila in the Canary Islands?”
“I would assume so. I would never have thought they’d go after her or, I swear, I would have warned Curt. They must have wanted all evidence of the Fish destroyed. I believe they’ve had Curt under surveillance since his participation at the opening of the gunpowder magazine, probably by bugging his house and car. They must have found out what he and Lila had discovered and hired a mercenary to destroy the cave and kill everyone there. Sydney and I underestimated the lengths to which Harvey Shottier and this small group would go to cover up the existence of the Fish.”
“Including trying to kill Curt and me,” Scott said bitterly. A spider web of lightning blanketed the horizon, followed by resounding thunder. He struggled to remain upright as the wind became more pronounced.
“I swear to you, I didn’t know anything about that. When they came to my house to get the Fish, they took me with them. They didn’t know I’d been helping Sydney. So I feigned that I was now interested in joining their group. Harvey didn’t trust me. That’s why they locked me in that room after stabbing poor Sydney. I suspect that they were going to kill me once they revived after undergoing the transformation process.”
“Those people we saw laying in the building by the pool with their hands wrapped are invincible now?”
Marvin nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
“Marvin, why didn’t you tell us?”
“Scott, not long after Julia passed, when I was still living in Tallahassee, I discovered I had cancer, the same type that took my wife from me. I never told you, because frankly there was nothing anyone could do about it, and I wasn’t looking for pity. Then I met a man from St. Augustine and was brought into the inner sanctum of the Blue Council. They had just lost a member, and they were looking for a new member to maintain their number at 39. At first, I didn’t believe the claims. I’m a man of science, but when you lose someone close to you and are staring death in the face, you’d be amazed at how your perspective changes. Concepts that seem ludicrous, suddenly aren’t so far outside the realm of possibility. Besides, at the time, this wasn’t a malicious group. They were guarding a pond and partaking of it. I became a member and moved from Tallahassee to St. Augustine. I couldn’t tell you, because we are bound to confidentiality.”
“Are you saying it cured your cancer?”
“I honestly don’t know, Scott. Like the others, I took a few sips from the pond each month. Several months after I started, my cancer went into remission. Godly miracle or coincidence? I’ll never know.”
“Where did the water come from?”
“The pond was originally near Wakulla Springs south of Tallahassee. Our brethren in the Blue Council learned abo
ut it from the Indians in the 1700s. It’s funny how Curt and Lila’s cave on Isla de la Palma implies it was brought here by Juan Ponce de León. That would explain the doubt historians have about Ponce searching for the Fountain of Youth, because, if it’s true, he never did.
“In the 1950s, Blue Council members erected the building by the St. Johns River. We siphoned the pond at Wakulla and moved the water to it, close to St. Augustine, where we could protect it and maintain the secret.”
“If the Fish is the true catalyst, why did the pond have any effect at all?” Scott asked.
“If Ponce de León did bring it with him, he must have placed it in the Wakulla Springs pond. Its essence, some trace of its power, remained even when the creature was removed by the LeFlores. Before Sydney pulled the plug to the pool, there was less than three years’ worth of water remaining. The source was running out, which was yet another reason why Harvey Shottier was desperate to determine the key to great longevity.”
Overhead, the crackle of lightning was followed by a cannonade of thunder which caused both men to cower. Not far out, Scott could hear a squall of rain moving inland.
“Whatever we’re going to do, we better do it now,” Marvin said. “We don’t want the Fish to get wet in the rain.”
Scott looked at him perplexed. He had been betrayed by one of his best friends, and anger was consuming him. “Do what, Marvin?!”
“Heed Lila’s discovery.”
“What? Part the Red Sea with this thing? This is ridiculous,” he scoffed into the brisk wind, his blond hair fluttering. “We’re supposed to follow the advice of an ancient cave drawing, and do what, exactly?”
****
Curt and Sherri ran north up the beach helped by the surging wind at their backs. Sherri could barely make out light seeping through the edges of the curtains that blocked the downstairs windows of the second house from the end. Lightning streaked to the north, followed by a powerful explosion, and suddenly all the lights along the beach were doused, including the first floor of Harvey Shottier’s house. She charged ahead with apprehension knowing that what she found inside the house might be her worst nightmare.
The large cottage stood three stories high, topped with a widow’s walk. In the darkness, Sherri reached the half-dozen steps which led to a wrap-around porch. She scaled them two at a time followed closely by Curt. He restrained her as they arrived at the front door.
“Wow, wait a second,” he whispered.
Sherri tried to pull free, but Curt held on. “Listen to me for one second. Sabine is most likely blind. We have to use this to our advantage.”
Sherri grabbed for the handle, but it would not give. She turned to Curt, determination in her eyes. Without a word, he picked up a rocking chair from the porch, spun, and hurled it through a window. The glass shattered as the chair sailed through.
Curt pushed through the window, and Sherri followed closely behind. Curt pulled the small flashlight he had taken from the tool bag in the plane. In the dim light, they searched the first floor. She was surprised to find the house unfurnished.
Sherri desperately wanted to call out for Tina but heeded Curt’s advice.
“Stay here, I’ll check upstairs,” Curt said. He pulled the hotel matches from his pocket and handed them to Sherri. She struck one for light.
He quietly moved up the stairs and out of sight.
Sherri remained on the first floor, searching closets, the kitchen, and the lower rooms in the scant light. Something was wrong. There was a mothball smell about the place. It appeared as if no one had been in the house for a long time.
My God, where is Tina?
The wind eerily lashed at the eaves outside.
Curt returned within minutes. He was carrying a shotgun and a box of shells. “I found these in the closet. Oh, and I found a 9-volt battery.” His expression turned bleak. “Sherri, she’s not here. Maybe Shottier was bluffing your uncle.”
His words betrayed his true feelings. He no more believed Shottier was bluffing than she did, but where was Tina?
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Thursday, August 18, 1:32 a.m. – Dekle Beach, Florida
“Scott!” Marvin shouted, leaning against the unrelenting wind. Sea spray soaked his pant legs. “Lila said the scene showed a man placing the Fish in the water, and then the waves calmed. This thing has unexplainable powers. It may be able to stop the hurricane. Whether you believe or not, this may be our only chance!”
Scott knew the professor was right. No matter how upset he was at the man, the weather was quickly turning worse.
A belligerent gust of wind struck the two men. Marvin was knocked off his feet, and Scott was knocked backward but managed to maintain his balance. Another fifteen minutes, and the winds would send them sailing off the beach like rag dolls caught in the wash of a jet engine.
Scott looked down at the Fish skeleton in his hands, contemplating everything that had happened over the last few days and the insane situation in which they were now involved. Then he turned toward the water, which rose high on the beach, lapping vigorously on the shore just a few feet away now. The smell of saltwater coming off the Gulf was bittersweet. It was an aroma Scott had always linked to happy times at the beach. Now it had the smell of death and destruction.
With the incoming wind, there was no way to get the Fish into the water without wading out. Yet he knew as soon as he dropped the skeleton in the water, the creature would materialize and devour him. Resigned to the inevitable, Scott stepped robotically into the surf, harsh waves rapping against his ankles and impeding his progress. Visions of Kay and Cody swept through his mind.
He was roused from his introspection by a firm tap on his shoulder.
Scott turned around. Professor Marvin Sellon’s gray hair flew wildly in the brisk wind.
“This one’s mine, Scott,” Marvin said.
“No.”
“It’s not your time. You have a family; a child who depends on you. I’ve been alone for a long time now.”
Scott looked at Marvin, considering the man’s words. He sighed. Marvin was right. Still…
“It’s my turn, Scott.”
Scott looked hard into Marvin’s eyes. He saw a look of peace, and a strange sense of calm that had come over the professor. He handed the man the small skeleton. “Stay in shallow water. The moment it submerges, get out. No one has to die.”
Marvin smiled. “You’ve been a good friend. You’re like the son I never had.”
“Enough of that. Drop this thing in the water and get out.”
Marvin extended his hand. Scott brushed it aside and gave the man a hug. “You’re not going to die today, Marvin.”
“We’ll see.” With that, Marvin turned and trudged through the incoming waves. Scott retreated back to dry land. He watched the professor push forward against the stout wind and water. Marvin was fifty feet out, water sloshing against his pants leg, when he turned to Scott. “I’m sorry for what I put you guys through!”
Before Scott could respond, Marvin leisurely tossed the Fish to the side.
Everything happened in an instant.
The lightweight skeleton never reached the ocean surface. Instead, it suspended in midair. The sky illuminated with white light as the skeleton ignited into a brilliant blue glow. A tremendous buzzing sound drowned out the wind. The spectacular blue light spread out over the watery terrain as far as the eye could see, saturating the landscape. It was followed by a resounding blast. The report echoed inland. On the horizon, the fiery blue light retracted, sucked backward to the finite point where it had originated from the suspended Fish. Then it was gone. Another thunderous explosion shook the air, another powerful report. Marvin and the Fish were hurled back toward shore. Marvin flew by Scott, landing on a set of wooden steps at the nearest seaside dwelling several dozen feet away. He hit it with such impact that the wood gave w
ith a morbid crunch. Marvin’s body twisted, nearly split in half. Blood seeped from his lips . Next to the mangled remains of Marvin Sellon, the small skeleton of the Fish had come to rest in the sand.
****
Curt and Sherri had witnessed the entire ordeal.
“Scott!” Curt yelled as they ran up the dark beach toward him. The wind was whipping sand into their face. Curt tried to shield his eyes. The storm had not abated. In fact, it was gaining intensity by the second.
“Curt, give me the battery,” Sherri requested running by his side. He handed it to her, and she sprinted in the direction of the plane.
Scott huddled over Marvin’s crumpled body. When Curt reached him, he looked up with red eyes. His face clouded. “He…he was trying to save us. He thought putting the Fish in the ocean would stop the hurricane.” Scott rubbed his eyes dry, his hair tossing across his forehead. “Did you see what happened? The Fish hung in the air like it was on a rope…as if it was being repelled by the surface of the ocean.”
“God no!” Curt heard Sherri scream over the wind. He looked at Scott then ran to the plane. She was slumped over, head buried in her hands on the yoke.
“Sherri, what is it?”
She pulled back, her eyes red with tears. With a trembling hand, she raised the handheld tracking device. It was lit up, showing an outline of the State of Florida. A green blip flashed off and on. With dread, Curt realized the target point was not on the west coast; it was in an area of northeast Florida along the shore.
Death in the Beginning (The God Tools Book 1) Page 25