by Greig Beck
Alex backed out of the room, sweating profusely, and then leaned against the wall, waiting for his stomach to settle. “Okay, there’s six bombs in there. Just waiting for their pack mules to walk ’em out.” He turned his head, feeling a compulsion drawing him on. There was also something else – Eli’s pain, the feeling of the man crying out to them.
“Further down. It’s further down.”
“Eli?” Adira crowded in close.
“I thought it was the bombs we were after,” Casey said. “Let’s fuck ’em up.”
Alex shook his head. “I think Eli is down there. But also the one responsible for them … and the things that carry them.”
“Is it … a person?” Adira asked.
Alex concentrated, but it was like pushing against a brick wall. “I can’t tell. So let’s go find out.”
They came to a final door, this one not the laboratory-white of the previous entrances. Instead it was age-old, the hinge braces and locking mechanism solid but heavily corroded.
Alex laid a palm against it and grimaced, as it felt like a fist had clenched in his brain. He stepped back.
“Whatever it is, it’s in there.”
“Is it Eli?” Adira asked.
“I think so, but it’s strange, like … he’s different.” Alex pushed at the door. Even though the hinges looked centuries old, they swung smooth and soundlessly.
“Looks like they ran out of money for decorating,” Casey said, grinning.
The air was fetid, and unlike the other rooms, the walls were rough-hewn stone, and more like a cave that had been hacked and chiseled from the surrounding rocks. The ceiling was high above them, and coated in slick moss that hung in glistening green stalactites.
“This place gives me the creeps,” Sam said quietly.
“I’m here for you, big guy.” Casey turned and winked.
“This looks like the original structure that existed below the dome. The new tunnels were recently added. Got to be a thousand years old down here – they probably had to tunnel down to get to it.”
“One thousand two hundred years, five months, three days, and eleven hours.” The voice came from above, below, all around them.
“What the fuck.” Casey spun, gun up.
“Do not be alarmed. I have been waiting for you.” There was a sound of excitement in the voice. “I know all about you.”
“Who are you?” Alex asked.
“Come now; you know me. Did you not come to find me? After all, I know you, Captain Alex Hunter, and you Ms. Adira Senesh, and Casey Franks, Samuel Reid, and even Eli Livnat.” There was a sound like a sigh. “I have been here for an eternity, waiting … in fact, waiting just for you, Alex Hunter, sometimes known as the Arcadian.”
Alex turned slowly, trying to pinpoint the voice. “Why are you producing the bombs?”
“I am not.”
“There are nukes here. I just saw them.” Alex concentrated, an image beginning to form in his mind.
“Yes, you did.”
“This is getting us nowhere.” Casey gritted her teeth. “Come out with hands up, or we’ll find you and drag you out.”
“I cannot, and no you won’t.”
There was a scream, but it only tore through Alex’s mind. It could have been Eli, or could have been some caged animal being tortured.
“Eli,” Alex said, through gritted teeth.
“Eli?” Adira spun. “Where is he? Our friend, you have him.”
“Yes, Eli. But he has joined with us now.”
“The hell he has,” Casey said, her voice turning to a growl. “You got thirty seconds, mister.”
“Hell?” There was a grating sound that could have been a dry laugh. “You have no concept of hell. Hell is to be trapped without seeing my beautiful land for too many centuries.”
“Jabir ibn Hayyan,” Adira breathed. “The great alchemist.”
“Yes. You see? You do know me.”
“How is this possible?” Alex started to move around the dank chamber, searching for the source of the voice.
“How? Life is easy, death is hard,” the voice rasped. “Crossing from one to the other sometimes takes a bravery I do not possess. So I decided to wait, making myself immortal, choosing those who can help me travel through the ages. Choosing only those strong enough to bear my burden.”
“What is your burden?” Alex noticed several large openings in the back of the chamber.
“My intellect, my secrets, my … self.”
“You are creating these things, the Travelers?” Adira asked.
“Yes. Do you like them? The people who currently live in these lands do. They help me, but wanted something in return. So I showed them how to make life from non-life. I gave them their ultimate warriors, the Zhayedan, the mighty Immortals of legend – single purposed, unthinking, strong beyond measure.”
There was a grating laugh of pure malevolence. “I told them I could create an army of Zhayedan, just like the ten thousand I gave to King Xerxes. With them, they would be able to defeat any army at Dabiq. I told them, like him, they could conquer the world.”
This time, the laugh was more disdainful. “Fools, they were mere dirt to me. All I really needed was to learn more about the outside world, draw on the weak minds of those brought before me. To search for the one, the next one to bear my burden … to search for you, Captain Alex Hunter.”
There was a soft sigh. “I can spare the lives of your people. I can stop the Zhayedan; stop the bombs from ever being used again. But in return you must give me something.”
“What.” Alex had a sense of deep foreboding. This was no chance meeting, but now seemed to have been engineered, everything planned, even from the very first detonation.
“You. I need you, your strength, your regenerative abilities. You alone are worthy enough to carry my burden – to carry me!”
“Carry you?” An image formed in Alex’s mind as he peered into the rear of the dark cave-like room. It horrified and intrigued him. He sensed eyes on them. “Where are you? Come out and we can talk properly. I’m ready.”
“Yes, yes you are. I think we are both ready. First, lay down your weapons.”
“Like fuck I will.” Casey had her gun pointed toward the dark alcoves at the rear of the room.
“Ah, the warrior woman; a small display then, just for you, Casey Franks.”
“Hey wait …” Alex never finished, as there came a sound like a wet slap, and Casey fell to the ground, her face bloody and her body jerking as if in a fit. Guns came up, and the team formed up, back to back around her prone body.
“What the fuck just happened?” Sam yelled.
“I punished her.” The voice was indifferent. “She isn’t dead, but I could have killed her. I just flicked her brain a little – a pinprick embolism, I think you would call it. A little display for both her, and you, Alex Hunter.”
“You son of a bitch.” Alex felt a surge inside his mind – a storm of aggression building.
There was a sound like a bored sigh. “I could have turned her brain to liquid. I can do it to all of you. Do you need another display, maybe something a little more visual, perhaps to the other warrior woman? You like her, don’t you, Alex Hunter?” The voice had turned ominous. “Now, lower your weapons.”
“You don’t need to fear us.” Alex sensed something approaching. A wave of evil like he had never experienced in his life.
“I don’t fear anything. And so, we begin; 10 – 9 – 8 – 7 – 6 … there will be no zero, Captain Hunter … 5 – 4 …”
“Do it,” Alex said.
The small group lowered their guns.
“And now drop them to the floor.”
Alex let his fall, and the rest followed. Sam immediately squatted by Casey, lifting her head. The female HAWC groaned.
A vile smell began to fill the dark and ancient chamber, and then from deep within one of the alcoves a monstrous figure appeared. Its head towered above even the huge Sam Reid, and in the dim lig
ht they could see it held something, cradled gently in its arms.
It stepped out, and Alex heard Adira suck in a breath. She backed up, her voice so high, Alex barely recognized it. Her words – only in Hebrew – were muffled as her hand went up in front of her mouth.
“Oh God.” Casey was now sitting forward, her eyes blood-red from the brain trauma. She got to one knee. “You motherfucking son of a bitch.” She searched the ground for her weapon.
“Leave it,” Alex yelled, his eyes transfixed on the horror.
Sam just stood, arms at his side, his mouth open. The gruesome thing was dressed in a long shawl, like a surgical smock. There were patches of fluid dampening the material – some bloody, some yellowish, as if it had just slipped from an operating table.
Alex’s fists were balled, and his teeth were clamped so hard his jaws ached. In his head he could hear the screaming of the poor soul trapped forever in the living cadaver.
It was Eli, or parts of him. There were swirls of stitches holding the flaps of skin together, and only half of the face was the recognizable visage of the Mossad agent they knew. The other was a darker skin, and the eye a different color. The entire patchwork of flesh was sliced and rent with vivid scarring that wept no blood, as the flesh was as drained and dry as hung beef.
Eli’s eye rotated to fix on them, but there was no recognition there, no words formed by the tongue. Still, Alex knew the man was inside somehow, his soul trapped within the mechanics of the huge carcass.
“You used him … mutilated him,” Alex said. “You took him apart and then sewed him into this, monstrosity.”
“He serves me now.” The voice was amused, perhaps by the reactions on their faces.
Alex searched for its source, and for the first time, he looked away from the slack face of the giant. In its arms was a tiny figure, like a blackened doll. It was all gnarled and twisted, its eyes little more than yellowed slits.
“Jesus Christ. You little freak, you butchered him.” Sam had moved out and to the side.
Alex could guess what he was doing – the big HAWC was going to take a run at the thing. Use his body in a linebacker-type tackle to bring it down.
“Don’t Sam.” Alex knew the being was obviously able to project some sort of force with its mind, and Sam wouldn’t have made two steps.
“You are Jabir ibn Hayyan?” Alex asked.
“This is what is left of him.” Its yellow eyes narrowed. “The years, the centuries, have left little of the man that once was.” It sighed, but then its expression became sharper. “Ah, I feel your aggression.” The eyes seemed to glow. “No, not your aggression, Alex Hunter, but the other one inside you. It boils in its fury, and you hate it as much as it hates you. It is your weakness, and your strength.” It laughed, and it used its small claw-like hands to lift itself slightly, as if to see Alex better. “You were worth waiting for, Arcadian. Join me, and the others all go free. You have my word.”
“Join you like Eli there?” Sam said. “Just say the word, boss.”
“Stand down, soldier,” Alex said softly. He looked up at the ripped and sliced face of the giant figure. “Is that what you want? Another pair of hands, like that?”
Jabir ibn Hayyan’s hideous little face twisted into a grin. “The Zhayedan are no more than marionettes to do as they are told. But Alex Hunter, you will join with me, and me with you. I will supply the mind, and you will supply the body. What a pairing we will make.”
“And what happens to my mind – where does that go?” Alex asked, already guessing the answer.
“It will not be lost. It will come here, into this body, which you can keep.” Jabir ibn Hayyan looked up at Eli. “And this Zhayedan will carry you.”
“No way,” Sam said.
“Then you will all join me.” The thing leered at Sam, like a cross between a small monkey and a goblin. “Perhaps I will make another Zhayedan, this one just using all of you, sewn together. Won’t that be cozy? Friends bonded by war, become bonded by flesh, forever.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Adira’s arm drop. He knew where she kept her throwing knives, and he edged in front of her.
“And if I agree, then you’ll let everyone else go.”
Excitement showed on its face. “Yes, yes.”
Alex could read the sense of excited anticipation in the tiny, gnarled features. But why did it need him to agree? If it was so all-powerful, why didn’t it just smash everyone in the room, and then simply take him? It must need his consent to be able transfer its mind, its essence, or whatever it planned to force into his head. It needed a willing offering.
He looked into the tiny decrepit thing’s eyes. Its face was like a shrunken head, as it hung in the hammock-like embrace of the monstrous being that had been Eli. There was something else that didn’t add up – if it was a true immortal, then why did it need them to drop their weapons?
Because it could be hurt, he realized. And if it could be hurt, it could be killed. He half turned.
“Everyone out.”
Sam shook his head. “Not a chance, boss, we can …”
“Now!” Alex’s roar filled the room. “Take your weapons and leave.” Alex felt the ancient creature about to object. “They’ll need to fight their way home.”
Jabir ibn Hayyan eased back, sneering. “Of course, I forget that mortals break so easily.”
Alex watched his group leave, each grumbling or casting deadly glances back at the deformed creature in the giant’s arms. Adira stopped at the heavy wooden doors.
“For what you have done to Eli, I promise you, you will finally know death.”
She immediately grimaced and held her head as blood gushed from her nostrils.
“Stop it!” Alex jumped in front of Adira, holding up both hands. “Please.” Adira fell to the ground, and Sam came back to help her to her feet.
“Get her out.” Alex looked hard at Sam. “Don’t worry, I’ll see you again.”
“But will it be you?” Sam almost growled. He lifted the Mossad agent as if she weighed nothing and left the room.
Alex turned back to Jabir ibn Hayyan. The Eli monstrosity had shuffled a few steps closer. It towered above Alex, standing mute as it gently raised the twisted little being higher until it was at Alex’s eye level.
It grinned, and a small putrid tongue licked blackened lips. “We will make a fine team, Alex Hunter.” It closed its eyes and inhaled, drawing in the very essence of Alex as if it was a delicious aroma. It eased back, looking pleased.
“I call tell you are already destined for a very long life. You have been … changed somehow. Something inside you is different to other men.” The yellow eyes closed momentarily as if in ecstasy. “You will be, peeerfect.”
“Tell me something,” Alex asked.
“Of course.” Jabir ibn Hayyan sighed.
“I know who you are, but how are you, you? What are you?”
The ancient alchemist exhaled long and slow, and seemed to draw on favored memories. “I was like you – human, once. But through my studies I found that there were spells, recipes if you like, that could open doorways. There were things you could call to, and then partner with, that would keep your intellect robust, no, more than robust, magnificently expanded.” It sighed again. “But too late, I realized that while the mind was blossoming, the body was shriveling around it.”
The giant Eli moved forward a few more inches.
“There’s something inside you.” Alex tried to step back, but felt his legs rooted.
“Ye-eees.” The yellow eyes looked deep into Alex’s face. “It is what I will pass to you. The devil’s kiss, you might call it.”
Jabir ibn Hayyan was lifted higher, and Alex tugged again, then harder. He began to strain at the invisible bonds that now even encircled his arms. He felt no fear or revulsion, just a growing fury at the thing trying to overwhelm him. A storm was growing in Alex’s mind. As if sensing the conflict within him, Jabir ibn Hayyan was pulled back a few inches by the m
onstrous figure of Eli.
“Calm yourself, Alex Hunter, or I can have your friend here constrain you.”
“I wouldn’t try it.” Alex’s words hissed from between his teeth like steam. “You might not like the result.”
“Really? I don’t fear you, Arcadian.” It laughed cruelly. “Did you know that the Arcadians were made to fight by the Spartans? They were savages, brutes, who were treated like attack dogs by the warrior Spartans. Who do you fight and kill for now, Arcadian?” Eli lifted the yellow eyes even closer. “I have nothing to fear, as you have all been my puppets for centuries.”
“It’s not me … you need to … fear.” Alex strained even harder.
“But it is me you need to fear.” The huge figure shuffled forward, lifting Jabir ibn Hayyan higher, and then leaning him out toward Alex. The yellow eyes were glowing in their intensity, and Alex could smell the stink of breath that told of age-old corruption.
“Open your mouth, Alex Hunter.” Alex’s mind burned, not from the powers of the small being, but from the force of the Other One, caged in his mind, refusing to submit to the monster. He strained again, not against the invisible bonds that held him, but instead now trying to keep the Other at bay, long enough to give his team time to get out.
The vile, crumpled little thing held up at his face opened its mouth. Jabir ibn Hayyan’s grin split wider, and then the dark hole of its mouth gaped. There were no teeth in the maw, but Alex could see what he assumed was a pale tongue moving languidly at the back.
The glistening tongue wormed forward, and Alex tried to jerk away, revolted. It wasn’t a tongue at all, but something living that squirmed toward him.
“Open your mouth, Alex Hunter, and … receive me.” The pale grub-like thing, half an inch thick, with multiple arms and tiny black eyes, quested in the maw, waiting.
Alex now knew that this was the great alchemist’s secret to eternal life. To somehow have conjured, or called, to some sort of “thing” that had arrived from the heavens or hell, or from some other madness, to take him as its host. Perhaps Jabir ibn Hayyan was the latest vessel that it had occupied, and now, as the body shriveled down to nothing, it wanted another vehicle to take it out of the pit where it had existed for too many centuries.