Ono didn’t understand the word.
“Yes, yes,” Lily said quickly. “We’ll take you with us.”
Clunk! Clunk!
Both planks thunked loudly into position on the two platforms and Lily and Wizard dashed off them, free at last.
As they ran toward the temple-fortress of the priesthood, Wizard saw Zoe and Alby on the other side of the lake, running in the same direction, carrying the island’s sacred objects.
“Zoe!” he called. “Get to the central tower! The priests’ tower! It’s an exit!”
“Got it!” Zoe yelled.
No sooner had she spoken than a great explosion blasted out above the huge waterfall at the northern end of the Neetha ravine.
The awning of bent-over trees concealing the ravine there spontaneously erupted in flames, and burning branches and tree trunks rained down onto the lake below, falling a full four hundred feet.
Then with a terrific roar, two CIEF Black Hawk helicopters swooped down through the opening that had been created, hovering perfectly—noses up, tails down—directly above the priests’ island tower!
They were modified Black Hawks known as Defender Armed Penetrators, or DAPs—although the only modifications they possessed were in the amount of weaponry they carried. These choppers were armed to the teeth with guns, rocket pods, and missile launchers.
Rockets shot out from the two DAPs, hitting every one of the Neethas’ strategic defensive positions. Stone towers were blown to pieces. Warriors were hurled into the lake. Obstacles in the main entry ravine were blown clear out of the water, allowing the Congolese foot soldiers to pour into the village unopposed.
The priesthood’s temple-fortress was also hit by a rocket from above.
In a single instant, flames flared from every one of its narrow stone windows, and a moment later its huge armored doors flew open and burning warrior-monks came spilling out of it, rushing down the steps and hurling their flaming bodies into the lake…where the flames were doused, but where the ever-patient crocodiles lay waiting.
Screams. Splashing. Thrashing.
“This is our chance,” Wizard said. “Inside! Now!”
With Lily, Ono, and Cassidy behind him, he rushed for the temple-fortress, ducking arrows and dodging bullets—
—only to be blocked at the steps of the temple-fortress by three unexpected players: the obese chief of the Neetha and two of his sons, all of them brandishing pump-action shotguns aimed right at Wizard’s fleeing group.
The chief barked some angry words at Ono and Cassidy, and they immediately lowered their little pistols.
“What’d he say?” Wizard whispered.
“He says that we cannot leave,” Cassidy said. “He says that I am his, that he owns me. When this is all over he says he will teach me a lesson in his bedroom, and that he will thrash Ono to within an inch of his worthless life.”
Cassidy glared at the chief.
“There will be no more lessons in your bedroom,” she said flatly, defiantly, just as she whipped up her pistol and fired it twice—expertly—into the foreheads of the two royal sons.
Both men dropped, the backs of their skulls bursting with blood, dead before they hit the ground.
Stunned, the chief whipped up his own shotgun, only to find himself already staring into the barrel of Diane Cassidy’s pistol.
“I’ve been waiting five years for this,” she said.
Blam!
The bullet went through the Neetha chief’s nose, breaking it on the way into his brain, causing a massive geyser of blood to splatter all over his face.
The fat ruler collapsed onto the steps of the temple-fortress, his body sliding down them, his cracked-open skull oozing brains.
The King of the Neetha was dead.
Diane Cassidy stared down at his body with a mix of disgust and bloody triumph.
Wizard scooped up the fallen chief’s shotgun and grabbed Cassidy’s hand. “Come on! Time to go.”
THE DRAWBRIDGES AND THE TOWER
WIZARD’S GROUP hurried through the temple-fortress of the Neetha priesthood.
It was like running through a Gothic freak show.
Bloody skeletons hung from torture devices, steaming pots of foul liquids simmered, ancient inscriptions lined the walls.
They hurried up some stairs and came to a long drawbridge that led to the central tower out on the lake. A second matching drawbridge stretched out from the tower itself, meeting with their lowered bridge in the middle.
“This way!” Ono said, rushing out onto their drawbridge.
The group raced across it.
But when they were halfway across, a call stopped Wizard dead in his stride.
“Epper! Professor Max Epper!”
Wizard turned…to see Wolf standing down near the Fighting Stone, looking directly over at him.
“We found you, Max! You knew we would! You can’t win this! My son couldn’t, so how can you?”
Wolf held up something for Wizard to see:
A battered and worn fireman’s helmet, bearing the badge: “FDNY Precinct 17.”
Jack’s helmet.
Beside him, Wizard heard Lily gasp as she saw it.
“I watched him die, Epper!” Wolf called. “My own son! You’re all out of heroes! Why keep running?”
Wizard instinctively clenched his teeth. “Not completely out,” he said softly, taking Lily by the hand and racing into the tower.
On their side of the lake, Zoe and Alby were also heading for the central tower inside the priests’ enclave.
They were rushing along a narrow lakeside path toward a small fort nestled up against the ravine wall when a new wave of Wolf’s men entered the ravine, this time from the north, from above the waterfall.
They came abseiling down the cliffs there on drop ropes, two dozen Congolese and American troops, covered by one of the Black Hawks.
Alby was gazing up at this new wave of attackers when suddenly a Neetha warrior-monk popped up into view on the roof of the little fort in front of him and fired—of all things—an Angolan RPG up at the Black Hawk!
The RPG hit its mark, and hovering above the lake, the Black Hawk exploded, blasting apart. Bleeding smoke, it nosedived into the water, landing with a massive splash not far from the tower.
“Jesus, I think these Neetha guys have kept every weapon they’ve ever found,” Zoe said.
As the Black Hawk crashed, the warrior-monk who’d fired the rocket ducked from sight, probably to reload.
His disappearance gave Zoe and Alby the opening they needed to race to the cliff-side fort, dash inside it, and climb its internal stone stairs.
One floor up, they came to a stone half-bridge stretching out from the fort toward the central tower. Mounted on several stone columns, this half-bridge was designed to meet the island tower’s eastern drawbridge when it was fully lowered—as it was now.
As they looked out across this double-bridge, they spotted Wizard standing in the doorway to the tower, waving them over.
“This way! Hurry!” he yelled as, without warning, the drawbridge in front of him began to rise.
Wizard seemed perplexed. He wasn’t doing it. Someone else was.
“Run!” he called.
“Run!”Zoe said to Alby.
She and Alby dashed out into open space, gunfire and explosions ringing out all around them, an RPG zooming past them, its smoke trail slicing through the air before it slammed into the cliff-side fort behind them and detonated. The fort erupted. Rocks and debris flew every which way.
But the RPG-firing warrior-monk who had been on its roof had already got out of there—and he came charging out of the little fort behind Zoe and Alby, also seeking to cross the double-bridge and get to the tower.
The drawbridge was rising—one foot above the leading edge of the half-bridge. Two feet…three…
Zoe and Alby were almost at it.
The monk was sprinting hard behind them.
Zoe and Alby got there as the
rising wooden drawbridge rose four feet above the gap. Zoe quickly picked up Alby and hurled him at the rising bridge’s edge.
Alby flew through the air and thudded chest first into the leading edge of the drawbridge. The hit winded him but he got a handhold, and held on, half-bent over the edge of the rising bridge.
With Alby safely on the drawbridge, Zoe jumped for it herself, leaping from the end of the stone half-bridge, arms outstretched, and she caught the edge of the drawbridge with her fingertips and exhaled a sigh of relief.
Until the warrior-monk behind her also leaped for the drawbridge and, since he could no longer reach it, caught her by the waist!
Zoe was jerked downward, yanked by the extra weight, but she held on, her fingers going white as they gripped the edge of the ascending drawbridge.
Ever rising, the drawbridge passed through twenty degrees, thirty, then forty-five degrees…
Bent over the leading edge of the rising bridge, clutching the Second Pillar in one hand, Alby saw Zoe beneath him, struggling with the warrior-monk. He shifted awkwardly, juggling the Pillar, so that he could get into a position to help her…
…when—thunk!—without warning the whole huge drawbridge stopped with a violent lurching jolt that sent the unbalanced Alby flying clear off its upper edge and tumbling down its length, heading into the tower!
Alby rolled down the steep drawbridge, trying his best to keep hold of the Pillar. But at the very bottom of his fall, he landed heavily on the stone base of the half-raised drawbridge and the Pillar popped from his grip and bounced away from him, through the tower and out onto the other drawbridge, the one that stretched back toward the village.
Alby watched in horror as the glasslike Pillar came to rest out on the other drawbridge, right at the point where it joined with the matching drawbridge that folded out from the temple-fortress.
“Alby!” a voice called.
He turned, and saw Wizard standing at the bottom of a flight of stone steps that burrowed down into the floor to his right. Lily was with him.
But then Alby heard more voices, and he looked out at the Pillar just in time to see, appearing inside the temple-fortress beyond it, some heavily armed Congolese Army men led by an Asian-American US Marine.
The Pillar lay exactly halfway between them and Alby.
A pained shout from Zoe made Alby spin on his knees. He saw her fingers at the top of the half-raised drawbridge. Saw them slipping slowly out of view…
This is all happening too fast,his mind screamed.Too many choices, too many variables. Escape with Lily, grab the Pillar, or help Zoe …
And suddenly everything went silent and time slowed for Alby Calvin.
In the silence of his mind, Alby faced his choice.
Of his three options, he could do two.
He could make it to the Pillar and get back to Wizard and Lily in the tower—but he couldn’t do that and help Zoe. If he took this option, Zoe would drop into the croc-filled lake and die.
Or he could help Zoe and, with her, join Wizard and Lily—but that would mean leaving the Pillar to these intruders. And that could have global ramifications.
Global ramifications,he thought.
The Pillar or Zoe.
One choice could potentially save the world. The other would save a single life: the life of a woman who was dear to him and to those he cared about, Lily, Wizard and Jack West.
It’s not fair!he thought angrily.This is not a choice a kid should have to make! It’s too big. Too important.
And so Alby made his choice.
A choice that would have far-reaching consequences.
Time sped up again and Alby leaped to his feet and ran back toward the half-raised drawbridge, toward Zoe.
He scrambled up the sloping wooden bridge, clawing at it with his fingernails. He came to Zoe’s fingers, hooked over the edge, just as they slipped a final time—
—and he caught one of her hands with both of his, leaning back with all his strength to hold her.
Below him, Zoe snapped to look up, a new look of hope leaping across her face. Then, knowing that one of her hands was secure, she used her other hand to loosen the grip of the warrior-monk hanging from her belt and wrenched him free of her.
The warrior-monk screamed as he fell away from her, landing with a splash in the water below before several large reptilian shapes converged on him and took him under.
Then with Alby’s help, Zoe hauled herself up and over the edge of the drawbridge.
“Thanks, kid.”
“We really have to go,” he said.
They slid together on their butts down the sloping drawbridge, landing on their feet inside the tower—just in time to see the Congolese Army men reach the Pillar on the other drawbridge and bring it to the attention of Switchblade.
“Damn. The Second Pillar…” Zoe breathed.
Alby swore under his breath, but he’d made his choice.
“This way,” he said firmly, pushing Zoe down the stone steps inside the tower, to the spot where Wizard and Lily waited with Ono and Diane Cassidy.
Lily called, “Quickly! There’s an escape tunnel down here. Come on!”
Alby made to follow Zoe down the steps, but it was right then that the most unexpected thing of all happened.
He got shot.
HE’D BEEN about to follow Zoe down the stairs when suddenly something slammed into his left shoulder, spinning him, hurling him three feet backward, into the nearby wall.
Alby slumped to the base of the wall, dazed, in shock, his left shoulder burning in a way that he’d never felt before. He looked down at it to discover that the entire shoulder was awash with blood.
His blood!
He saw Zoe down at the base of the stairs, saw her try to come for him, but it was too late—the Congolese Army men and the Asian-American Marine were now entering the tower—and Wizard had to pull Zoe back down the stairs and into the escape tunnel down there.
Leaving Alby just sitting there against the stone wall, dumbstruck, bloodied, and horrified, and now at the mercy of the US Marine coming toward him.
DARK, WET,and narrow, the escape tunnel led northward.
Through its tight confines they ran, Ono leading the way, holding a flaming torch above his head. He was followed by Lily and Diane Cassidy, with Wizard and Zoe bringing up the rear.
“Oh, God! Alby!” Zoe cried as she ran.
“We had to leave him!” Wizard said with surprising firmness.
“I think he got hit—”
“Wolf can’t be so evil as to kill a small boy! And we had to get away! We have to protect Lily! What did you manage to get from the sacred island?”
“We grabbed the Orb and its sighting device, but we lost the Second Pillar!” Zoe said. “Alby saved me instead! Wolf’s men got it before they got him!”
Wizard kept running hard. “After he’s done with the Neetha, Wolf and his rogue army will now have both Pillars, plus the Firestone and the Philosopher’s Stone! They’ll have everything they need to perform the ceremony at the Second Vertex and at every other vertex to come! This is a disaster!”
They dashed up a long flight of stone steps and came to a concealed stone doorway cut into a small cave, the end of the escape tunnel.
Emerging from the cave, they found themselves on the banks of the wide jungle river that fed the Neetha waterfall.
To the south, three volcanoes loomed over a seamless green valley—except for a newly opened hole in the canopy, the Neetha’s ravine was completely hidden by the jungle.
Shouts and gunfire made them whip around.
About a hundred yards from the cave, another battle was being waged on the riverbank.
Two Congolese Army pilots were desperately defending a large seaplane from about thirty Neetha warrior-monks. The seaplane—or more correctly, “flying boat”—was a very old model, a Soviet rip-off of the classic Boeing 314 “Clipper.”
Big and bulky, with an upper flight deck and a lower passenger ca
bin, it had four wing-mounted propeller engines and a huge bulbous belly that sat low in the river. Cheap and old, knock-off Clippers like this one were common in those parts of Africa where the only landing strips were rivers.
Right now this Clipper was literally crawling with Neetha warriors. They were scaling its flanks, jumping on its wings, standing on its nose, and hammering its cockpit windshield with clubs.
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