Inside, he fought his way through hordes of panicked nymphs – many already dying or dead – squeezing himself against the walls. Above the shrieks he could hear the crack and tinkle of crystal, as its brittle structures broke away from the rock. He moved as fast as he could, trusting in God to protect him.
Halfway down the tunnel his backpack snagged on a projecting shard of crystal. As he tried to free himself, a worm uncoiled from an opening in the opposite wall and propelled itself towards him. He raised Fleischer's gun, pointed it and pulled the trigger. The weapon recoiled in his hand until the cartridge was empty, the storm of bullets shredding the creature, forcing it back into the wall. He dropped the gun, pulled hard and broke off the crystal snagging his backpack. Then he ran down the tunnel, holding the Source fragment close to him like a talisman – a shield against the pursuing demons.
Ahead, he saw Petersen crouching in a pool of blood. His machine-gun lay discarded beside him, surrounded by spent cartridges. The gory remains of slain rock worms formed a ring around him. His legs were badly mutilated but he was still alive. He held a pistol, waiting for his tormentors to return.
He saw Torino and tried to stand. 'Help me, Father General. Help me get down the tunnel.'
Torino stopped beside him. 'Is your pistol loaded?'
'I've got three bullets left.'
'Give it to me.'
Petersen's blood-caked face stared at him. Then he handed over the gun. 'Help me stand,' he said. 'If I lean on your shoulder I think I can walk.'
Torino turned away. Helping Petersen was futile, counterproductive. Not only would the soldier slow him down but Torino couldn't let him live and speak of the garden. This was God's will.
He could hear the worms returning.
'They're coming back, Father General!' Petersen screamed. 'In the name of God, help me!'
'In the name of God, I can't.'
'Then give me my gun. Or shoot me. Don't leave me like this.'
Torino didn't look back. Even when Petersen's pleas became screams, he only ran faster down the tunnel.
He had to get out.
He had to survive.
He had to complete God's work.
77
Covered with dust, Ross stumbled into the glare of the garden, holding Sister Chantal. Seconds later, the entrance to the forbidden caves collapsed behind him, damming the stream to the lake.
Not looking back, he carried her towards the mound of stones where she had buried Orlando Falcon's remains. He saw Bazin standing near the grave. The flame-thrower and the backpack of incendiaries that Ross and the others had taken from Gerber lay on the ground beside him. He held a pistol, pointing it at Zeb and Hackett. Zeb was arguing with him.
'Just tell me one thing,' she shouted. 'If this really is the Garden of God why do you hate it so much?'
'I don't hate it,' said Bazin. 'It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.'
'Then why destroy it?'
'I don't want to. I want to protect it for the Holy Mother Church.'
She pointed to the stack of yellow parcels a few yards away. 'You don't protect something by putting incendiaries everywhere.'
'They're to stop the garden falling into the wrong hands. To stop people using it against the Church.'
'What people? Us? What threat are we?'
As Bazin began to answer, he saw Ross, blanched and fell silent.
Ross took no evasive action, just kept walking to the mound. He was exhausted. 'You've already killed me once, Marco. If you want to do it again, then shoot. Otherwise, leave me alone.'
'Ross, what happened?' said Zeb. 'We felt the tremors out here.'
'Torino chipped a chunk off the Source and unleashed Hell.'
'What about Sister Chantal?'
'Fleischer shot her.' Ross walked past the stunned Bazin, laid Sister Chantal on the mossy earth and cradled her head in his hands. Her breathing was ragged but she was still alive. 'Can I get you some water, Sister?'
'Not from this place. I'm dying and I don't want to be revived.' She looked beyond Ross into the middle distance and, despite her pain, a rapturous smile lit her face.
Sister Chantal could see him now, as clear as the day she had said goodbye to him in Rome. But now Father Orlando wasn't dressed in foul robes or limping from his torture at the hands of the Inquisition. He stood before her, handsome and ageless, resplendent in the black robes he had worn before the Church accused him of heresy.
'I knew you'd wait for me,' she said, oblivious of Ross and the others.
He smiled. 'I release you from your vow, Sister Chantal,' he said. 'You have done all I asked of you and more. Hand your burden to the new Keeper. Give him the cross.'
'He doesn't believe.'
'Give it to him. He may still find salvation in it.'
She focused on Ross again. 'Father Orlando is here. I can see him. I'm released from my vow. I can be with him again.' She reached for her crucifix and handed it to Ross. He tried to refuse but she insisted. 'Take the crucifix, Ross. Father Orlando gave it to me when I became the Keeper. One day, even you might find comfort in it.'
Ross frowned. 'I'm not the new Keeper and I've no use for a crucifix.'
She held out the cross. 'Take it. Release me.'
He hesitated a moment longer, then nodded reluctantly. 'I'll take it out of respect for you and because I know it symbolizes your burden,' he said. He took the cross from her and placed it round his neck.
Sister Chantal sighed and relaxed. She looked up at Zeb and Hackett and said goodbye. She saw sadness in their eyes but she felt none. She turned to Bazin. 'I forgive you, my son. You only did what the Superior General told you was right. Your mistake was to trust him and put the Church above your faith. Remember, the Church should always be your servant and guide, never your master.' She smiled at him. 'Like you, Marco, I believe this garden comes from God. If you truly want redemption, put your gun down and help Ross protect it. From everyone. Including the Church.'
She saw Father Orlando beckon and joy coursed through her. Finally she could rejoin him. She squeezed Ross's hand. 'I must leave you now,' she said. 'Father Orlando is calling me.' She smiled one last time then closed her eyes, welcoming the peace that greeted her.
Ross felt the life leave Sister Chantal and, for a moment, no one spoke. His sadness was tempered because she appeared so peaceful, as if enjoying well-deserved sleep. As he laid her down beside Father Orlando's grave he was acutely aware of the cross dangling from his neck. Fashioned from dull metal, it felt surprisingly heavy.
When he looked up he found himself staring into the barrel of Bazin's gun. 'So, what are you going to do?' he said. 'Help us protect this so-called Garden of God? Or help the Superior General destroy it?'
The gun trembled in Bazin's hand. He rarely gave a second thought to all the men he had killed. Killing Ross, however, had been different – not least because Ross had once saved his life. That fleeting guilt, however, was nothing compared to the confusion he felt now. Looking into Ross's eyes, knowing he had already killed him once, was more unnerving than anything he had ever experienced. He felt as if he was looking into the eyes of every man he had murdered. But what did it mean? Was he being offered a second chance to redeem himself, or was this a test of his resolve?
'I'm only doing what's right,' he said. 'I serve the Holy Mother Church, the true guardian of the Garden of God.'
Ross indicated the forbidden caves and the collapsed entrance.
'Do you know what happened in there? I told the Superior General I was prepared to leave this place with nothing and never speak of it again if he did the same. He refused.'
'Of course he refused. It's his duty to claim it for God and the Church.'
'He didn't just refuse. He took a hammer to the Source.' Ross paused. 'Tell me something, Marco. If the Source is intended only for your church, then why did it resist so violently when the Superior General tried to remove a sample? And if I'm such a threat why did it bring me back from the dea
d?'
Bazin glared at him, determined to keep indecision out of his eyes.
'The truth is, Marco, whatever you think of what I do or don't believe, I was prepared to sacrifice my wife to save the Garden of God. Torino, however, doesn't give a damn about it. He finds it embarrassing. He only wants the Source. He intends to destroy everything else – I saw the detonator control in his backpack. How can you let him destroy this magical garden, with all its creatures, just because it challenges Rome's doctrine? Why would any god approve of that?'
'The incendiaries are just a contingency.' He pushed the gun closer to Ross's face. 'The Superior General doesn't want to use them. Where is he, anyway?'
'I don't know. Perhaps he's dead.'
The two-way radio crackled in Bazin's hand. He put it to his ear and breathed a sigh of relief. It was the Superior General and he was very much alive.
78
Moments earlier
Torino was breathing hard when he emerged from the tunnel of blood. The antechamber was darker than he had expected. So much crystal had fallen that the glow it threw into the chamber had significantly dimmed. It took him some seconds, however, to grasp the main reason for the low light: the entrance into the garden had been blocked with fallen rocks. The collapse had dammed the stream, raising the water level of the pools in the antechamber.
The nymphs were chanting loudly in the dark recesses behind him, but he ignored them. He felt safe with Petersen's pistol. He rushed to the entrance and pulled at the rocks but only managed to create a narrow, horizontal gap with a letterbox-shaped view of the garden. He angled his head, peered to the right and saw the lake. Then he peered to the left and smiled. Some distance away, gun in hand, Bazin stood over Kelly. Sister Chantal lay motionless between them. Two other figures were partially visible: Zeb Quinn and Hackett.
He called out but couldn't make himself heard above the nymphs' din. He put the Source fragment and the pistol into his backpack next to the detonator box and pulled out his two-way radio. He pressed the transmit button and saw Bazin reach for his radio and put it to his ear.
'Marco, I'm trapped in the antechamber. The others are dead. Who's with you? I can only see you and Kelly fully.'
'I've got him, Zeb Quinn and Hackett here.'
'What about Sister Chantal?'
'She's dead.'
'Good. Shoot the others, then come and get me out.'
'Why kill them? They intend no harm to the garden.'
'Don't question me. If they leave here they'll tell everyone what they've seen. To do the most good, the Holy Mother Church must keep this place and its miracles secret.'
'And the garden? If I kill them we don't need to harm it.'
Torino clenched his jaw and bit back his impatience. 'This garden belongs to the Church, Marco. Rome will decide how it serves God best.' Of course the garden had to be destroyed. The pope had made it explicit that nothing here could be allowed to contradict his infallible doctrine. He had expressly stated that whatever Torino found could only bring glory to Rome, and that the Holy Father could have no personal knowledge of anything he might later have to deny. Therefore, before Torino presented this place to Rome, everything questionable had to be purged from it. There was no guarantee that his half-brother would understand this, though, and Torino needed his help to get out. He looked down at the detonator control. 'But, as I told you, the incendiaries were only ever a contingency. If you do as I say there shouldn't be any need to use them.'
'I understand.'
'Then do your duty. Earn your redemption.'
'I will.'
The radio went dead and Torino peered through the gap. Bazin was partially visible but the others were now out of view. He held his gun in his right hand while gesticulating angrily with the left. He appeared to be shouting.
Then Torino heard three shots in quick succession. He craned his neck but Bazin had walked out of sight. The next three shots were more spaced out, deliberate. Torino imagined him walking from body to body delivering the coup de grâce. Bazin reappeared, held the radio to his mouth and walked towards him.
Torino's set crackled.
'It's done,' said Bazin.
79
Torino heard but couldn't see Bazin pulling the rocks away from the far end of the collapsed entrance where the cliff face still provided support. He tried to help but most of the internal rocks seemed to support those on the outside. Alone, with his bare hands, Bazin worked with impressive speed. Within minutes he had cleared a narrow passage, and wriggled through. When his face appeared it was streaked with sweat and dirt. He stood up and dusted himself down.
'You okay, Father General?'
'Fine. But I need to get out of here.'
As Torino headed for the gap, Bazin placed a hand on his shoulder. 'Give me your pack. You won't squeeze out with that on your back.'
'I'll push it in front of me.'
Bazin looked pained. 'I want the detonator control.'
'Why?'
'You promised me that if I killed them you wouldn't need to destroy the garden.'
'I promised you nothing. I said it was a contingency.'
Bazin held out his hand. 'I've done everything you demanded of me since I came to you seeking absolution. Do this one thing for me, Leo.'
'Why, Marco? I owe you nothing. When you came to me you were a killer, a base assassin, the left hand of the Devil. I gave you purpose and showed you the path to redemption. I turned you into a crusader for God and the Holy Mother Church. I did you a favour.'
'I'm still a killer. I've killed for you.'
'Not for me. Everything I've asked you to do has been for the Church, for God, and for your own salvation.'
Bazin released a long, sad sigh. 'Ever since we were at the orphanage I've looked up to you, Leo. I didn't care that the Jesuits dismissed me as a thug. I took pride in how they nurtured you, my brother. I idolized you and wanted your approval. That was why I trusted you to help me and that was why I've done everything you asked of me. Now do this one thing for me. Give me the detonator box. Not as the Superior General, but as Leo, my brother.'
'I can't do that. I serve the Church, not you.'
'So you did lie to me. The incendiaries aren't just a contingency.'
'I didn't lie. I just didn't think you'd understand the truth. Enemies of the Church will twist what they find here. They'll talk about evolution and creation and undermine the scriptures, sowing doubt in the minds of the faithful. Only by destroying the garden and all its mutant life, then building a new Vatican over the ashes, will we harness the power of the Source and save the souls of mankind.'
'But this is the Garden of God. How can we destroy it?'
Torino groaned impatiently. 'I knew you'd be too stupid to understand, Marco.'
'Too stupid to understand? Or stupid enough to trust you?' He pulled a gun from his belt. 'Give me the detonator box, Leo.'
Torino glared at his brother. He had feared this might happen. He took the pack off his shoulders and reached in with both hands. 'As you wish.' While his left hand pulled out the detonator box, the right felt for Petersen's pistol, aimed it through the canvas and pulled the trigger three times.
The Source Page 33