“I’m already a drowned rat,” he responded sharply.
“Nobody can function if they’re soaking wet, including the all-powerful Nick Bellamy. Now put on a poncho,” she demanded.
The nurse found a poncho, and Lisa helped Nick slip it on. He had difficulty raising his left arm high enough to slip into the orange, plastic sleeve, but he never complained. Lisa remained patient and quiet, fully aware that any sympathetic words would only elicit his resentment.
Once the poncho was firmly in place, Nick followed Lisa into the maelstrom to the ladder that disappeared into the pit. The doorless and windowless structure awaited them at the bottom like a Chinese puzzle box. Nick recalled that he was a bust at solving them as a kid.
He held the flapping poncho close to his body and scrutinized Lisa’s odd actions. She bent in front of each of the structure’s sides and muttered two unintelligible words. But each time, nothing happened. The walls remained intact. Nick reconsidered his previous belief that Lisa was a witch. It was now apparent that the woman lacked magical skills.
Just as he was about to give up the ghost and head back up top, something finally happened. The structure’s entire south wall just vanished! No opening door. No sliding panel. Nothing but shadows and air.
He eyed her suspiciously. “How’d you manage that?”
She stood and laughed as if her actions were child’s play. “Simple. I merely put two and two together from what I read in that fountain of youth article I told you about.”
She saw that he wasn’t buying her cryptic response.
“Look, Nick, I’m not a witch if that’s what’s running through that cynical little mind of yours. If you want, I’ll close the entrance so you can chant the appropriate phrase,” she replied brusquely. “You know, you can be a real pain in the ass sometimes.”
He nodded, apparently convinced she was being truthful. “Being a pain in the ass is one of the requisites of my job,” he shot back, and then turned and spoke earnestly to the four agents waiting beside them. “Follow me, boys, and keep your flashlight in one hand and your gun in the other. Professor, lead the way.”
She frosted him with an icy stare before disappearing inside the mysterious structure. Nick and the four agents followed warily behind.
Upon reaching the end of the stairs, they gawked at the empty pool in the center of the vast grotto. After a thorough inspection, Lisa concluded that the drained pool had contained the fabled fountain of youth water. All that remained of the magic potion was a shallow puddle on the concave bottom.
Nick swore at their rotten luck and hastily attempted to contact the field supervisor on his sat phone, but there was no reception. He ordered one of the agents beside him to return up top and bring back six sterile vials from the forensics tent.
“And step on it!” he added. Nick had an uneasy feeling that their safe time inside the structure was limited. His concern was that the south wall might seal them inside at any time, and he wasn’t certain Lisa could open it from the inside. He was at home dealing with gunfights, car chases, or enemy infiltrations, but assignments involving magic were completely unpredictable and far too dangerous.
The agent reappeared, breathing unevenly and looking ghostly pale. He quickly handed Nick the six, glass specimen vials. “We’ve got to hurry, sir,” he said. “There’s a tornado bearing down on us!”
Nick was incredulous. “It’s coming toward us?”
“Yes, sir. Like someone was steering it in our direction.”
“Give me those bottles,” Lisa insisted. “I’ve done this work a thousand times.”
“You’re not government,” Nick protested.
“Obviously there’s an enzyme in that water that promotes regeneration. We risk contamination of that enzyme if we allow an inexperienced person to collect the samples,” Lisa stressed.
“Please, sir, we’ve got to hurry,” the agent urged him.
Nick reluctantly gave her the vials, because there wasn’t enough time to calmly advise her that his primary concern was that the water might contaminate her.
Before she climbed down into the pool, Lisa pulled Nick aside.
“Listen,” she whispered, “very carefully. You recall those mutated bones I told you about in your Boneland?”
Nick nodded.
“Well, my theory is that those mutants were originally regular people like us who either drank from this fountain or bathed in its water.”
“Jesus! You’re saying that . . .”
“Right. That stuff at the bottom of the pool might make some people younger, or transform others into . . .”
“Short, freaky guys,” he finished for her.
“Now do you see why I want to collect the samples? If one of those untrained agents happened to get a drop or two of that water on his skin, who knows what could happen.”
Exactly his point, but Nick realized they didn’t have time to debate it. “You win. Be careful, but hurry, too.”
Lisa sat on the edge of the drained pool that now resembled an empty cereal bowl. Taking a deep breath to settle her agitated nerves, she slid down the slick, smooth walls six feet to the bottom where she spread her feet to avoid contact with the puddle. She withdrew the vials from her shirt pocket and used the poncho’s plastic fabric as a protective skin each time she dipped a vial into the water. Unfortunately, there was only enough water left to fill five of them.
A distant roar shook the grotto. The four agents swallowed.
“Go ahead, get out of here. Order the others to evacuate, but if it’s too late, tell them to dig in for the worst,” Nick instructed the agents.
The four men sprinted upstairs as if fleeing the devil.
“How about giving a girl a hand?” Lisa called, her hands extended to their full length above her head.
Nick lowered himself painfully to the floor, clutched Lisa’s hand, and pulled her up. His ribs screamed hellfire, but he somehow managed to maintain a poker face.
As soon as her feet hit the floor, she grabbed his hand and ran toward the stairs. “You’ve got to get those ribs x-rayed, Nick.”
“Hell, it’s nothing,” he lied through gritted teeth as they raced up the steps.
When they were a half-dozen steps from the exit, Lisa and Nick heard hysterical screams and frenetic shouts as the freight train roar grew closer. The tents fluttered loudly but held their ground. However, the turbulent gusts reduced the boxes of medical and forensic supplies stored outdoors to deadly, flying debris.
They were about to exit the structure when they were greeted by a stampede of terrified doctors, nurses, helicopter pilots, and agents. Their momentum shoved Lisa and Nick back inside. Nick pulled her against the wall as they passed so they wouldn’t be shoved downed the stairs. Shortly, the frantic footfalls and panicked chattering receded to the lower level.
As they were about to effect their escape into the maelstrom again, the head nurse who had treated Nick blocked the opening.
“Please, let me in!” she screamed.
Nick and Lisa exchanged uneasy glances.
“Come in,” Lisa said.
The nurse smiled gratefully and stepped into the opening, but when her body was halfway through, the south wall suddenly solidified. The nurse’s hideous screech was short-lived; she immediately fused with the stones. Her life was quickly crushed from her body.
Lisa and Nick watched in horror as her quivering flesh was sucked inward against her bony frame. Blood sweated from her pores and splashed onto the stone landing. The nurse’s face was spandex tight against her skull, forcing her eyes from their sockets. They dangled like revolting puppets, before plunging to the stone floor with nauseating splats. Her skull quickly collapsed inward and disappeared into the glowing stones as if they were powerful vacuums. Her bones cracked, splintered, and were immediately absorbed into the south wall. The stone floor drank every droplet of blood like a sponge. In a few minutes, nothing was left to indicate that the nurse had ever existed.
After witnessing the gruesome debacle, Nick was suddenly aware that Lisa’s arms had a vise grip on his neck. Instead of throwing her arms off, he surprisingly enjoyed the experience and did nothing. A vaguely familiar, prickly sensation thrilled his senses and dulled his thoughts. Lisa’s touch, no matter how aggressive, rekindled memories of Gabriella’s fiery embraces during their one remarkably passionate night together. Now, that night seemed like a lifetime ago, even though barely a year had passed. Sometimes he wondered if Gabriella would ever return to him.
Nick grudgingly dispelled the sensual sensation and gently unwrapped her arms from his neck. This wasn’t the time and place to contemplate his unexpected emotional attraction to Lisa.
Lisa was sobbing, and Nick hugged her close until she regained her composure. Rejecting his feeling for her was one of the most difficult assignments of his life.
“Jesus, look at that!” he said incredulously.
Lisa raised her teary gaze to the transparent roof. “God, what happened?” she gasped. They could see through the stone roof as if it wasn’t there.
“I don’t know,” he replied breathlessly as Lisa looped her arm tightly through his.
Two agents ran up the stairs.
One shouted, “Is the tornado over . . .”
They both stopped and they stared quietly at the violent night sky. One agent leaned against the south wall, and before Nick and Lisa could warn him, he immediately was drawn into the stones in the same gruesome manner as the poor nurse. The second agent flew downstairs, screaming the entire way.
Nick gently took her cold, trembling hands. “You’ve got to get us out of here,” he said with as much equanimity as he could muster.
Lisa dried her face and cautiously approached the south wall. She repeated the opening phrase and stepped back. Nothing happened. She repeated the chant on the north wall, and the result was the same. It appeared as if they were trapped inside the carnivorous building.
“Look,” Nick said tautly, one mental notch from a full-fledged panic.
Lisa gasped as the entire roof and top-floor walls became transparent, and the sudden scenic view gave them a ringside seat to the approaching tornado! The quarter-mile wide twister bore down on their location, collapsing tents and plucking palm trees from the grounds as if they were potted daisies.
Lisa stifled a scream as the spiraling Black Death was nearly upon them. She slowly turned to Nick and met his gaze. They simultaneously realized that they couldn’t feel the tornado’s wind or hear its lethal roar. Their box seats for nature’s angry spectacle were totally protected, but that didn’t help either of them enjoy the show. Both were concerned for their safety, and the thought of the building’s protection gave Lisa the willies. Protecting them for what? Dinner?
Nick suddenly yanked her backwards. “The floor’s changing, too.”
The surface of the floor stones that had absorbed the nurse’s and agent’s blood was glowing blood-crimson.
“I’m scared, Nick,” Lisa confessed.
“I know. Let me think.” He stared up, and despite their dangerous situation, couldn’t help but marvel at the tornado’s internal funnel. Several minutes passed. Lisa remained silent, letting Nick figure things out. The truth was, she wasn’t as afraid as she pretended.
Finally, Nick snapped his fingers. “After I nearly killed the demon guardian with the rocket, it crawled into the first pit, which is damn close to this structure,” he said.
“Where are you going with that idea?”
“It might be right here,” he said and pointed at the surrounding walls. “The demon guardian could be one with this place.”
“You can’t be serious!”
“Look at this place from a different perspective. I see the south wall entrance as the mouth, the stairway as the throat and the lower section as the stomach.”
“God, that’s an awful perspective!” Lisa exclaimed.
“I practically killed the demon, but it had just enough energy to crawl back to its hole. Why? To recharge. Regenerate. Use the fountain of youth—only it finds the fountain empty.”
“Now it can’t regenerate, right?”
Nick shook his head. “I wish you were right, but I’m afraid you’re not. Your fountain of youth water, I believe, is some kind of feeding enzyme,” he ventured.
“Eeew,” she groaned. “You mean people have been drinking demon piss all these centuries to make themselves younger?”
“No, no. I think the water acts more like bile. Helps with the digestion of trespassers.”
“So where does it . . .”
“Excrete?” Nick asked.
“Yeah, shit.”
“That’s what we’ve got to find out.”
Lisa studied him thoughtfully. “I sense there’s a and if we don’t that you’ve purposely omitted.”
“You’re very perceptive,” he said. “Okay, you asked for it. And if we don’t, there’s a really good chance that this living structure is going to devour us, one by one.”
21
B
lossom’s bedroom shutters rattled and banged with each storm gust and thunderclap. The rain pelted the tin roof so loudly that she couldn’t hear herself think.
Jay was busy in the front room packing a briefcase and a satchel. Blossom tried not to watch him, because the thought of his abandoning her in that filthy bungalow frightened her more than the prospect of his hanging around and raping her again.
It was just after midnight when she had regained consciousness after the beating and rape, and her face felt as if it had been trampled in a cattle stampede. She lay quietly and listened to Jay bang glassware and swear in the kitchen. She raised her throbbing head off the pillow and studied her reflection in the blank television screen. She fell back, livid. Her face was a mask of swollen and discolored bumps and dark bruises. In her agonizing state, it took her a while longer to discover that Jay had raped her. She was mortified. She attempted to block out the shame and embarrassment of being violated like that, but her nerves were too frazzled and hatred consumed her emotions.
Her resolve to kill the bastard swelled exponentially. To add to her degradation, Jay had left her tied to the bed, naked, with her legs splayed. Every inch of her body was exposed, leaving her helpless against his lewd scrutiny and further sexual advances. If she weren’t so set on murdering Jay, she would’ve prayed for a quick death.
Hours after she regained consciousness, Jay entered her bedroom. “Time for me to go, baby. Sorry things didn’t work out between us. But what the hell, you were a good fuck.”
“Damn you, Jay! You just can’t go and leave me like this,” she shouted.
He leaned over her and put his face inches from hers. “I could kill you instead, bitch. Would you prefer that?” he retorted.
Blossom bit her lip to keep from ranting. Venting her feelings would only result in her death. She wanted to live—live to see him squirm before she killed him.
He yanked her head forward by the hair and shoved what looked to be a collar in her face. “See this, baby? It’s an electronic, dog bark collar. You scream, it jolts the hell out you.” He slipped the leather strap around her neck so that the small plastic box and its two electrodes pressed against her throat, and fastened it. “You yell, you pay.”
Tears glazed her eyes. “Please, take me with you,” she pleaded softly, realizing that if he left, she would most likely die of starvation in the bungalow and never have the chance to exact her revenge.
Jay laughed. “You’re a jinx, baby. And besides, I got important work to do tomorrow for the cause. I’ll be one famous Indian,” he boasted, his grin a cruel slit in his unshaven face. “Oh, by the way, I don’t think I mentioned the snakes that like to slither in for a visit from time to time. Juan and me shot two, but there’s plenty more where they came from.”
Blossom’s eyes were saucers, but resisted begging for release. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her distress.
“They come
in to feed on the rats and roaches,” he added, clearly enjoying her misery.
She turned her battered face away from him. “I’ll be just fine,” she lied. “You just go ahead and do what you need to do.”
Jay swore under his breath and shoved the bedroom door open with such force that the doorknob was buried in the water-stained drywall.
“Give the snakes my best, baby.” He laughed again, plucked his bags from the floor and disappeared out the door into the tempest.
Blossom’s mouth was as dry as dust as she scanned and rescanned the floor for snakes. Her thoughts were jumping like popcorn in a microwave. Were there really snakes and rats in the bungalow, or did Jay fabricate the story just to torture her? If he told the truth, she was in no position to protect herself, so keeping her eyes closed was her only option to preserve what little sanity she had remaining.
The raging squall slapped Crow’s black braids back and forth against his head and neck as he splashed through a front yard lake to another residence, but he was so worried about Blossom that he didn’t notice. He kept repeating to himself that she was alive.
Neo had arrived earlier with nine agents, and Grandfather had instructed them on which local roads to search. He apologized for not joining them, but his time-wearied legs were too weak to walk great distances.
Crow had struck out with the first five residences that lined a flooded, gravel road a quarter mile from Grandfather’s position. His optimism had ebbed with each dead end.
He kept checking his cell phone for missed calls from the other searchers, but there were none. He felt like the last man on Earth as he trudged across the swampy lawn in the gloom to his next stop, a hovel in the midst of a junkyard. The double-wide mobile house sat on cement blocks, and most of its vinyl siding had been blown off years ago. Crow pictured a beer-bellied, shotgun toting, redneck owner as he knocked on the badly warped door.
The winded owner huffed when he opened the door and scowled at his visitor. “We ain’t buyin’,” he snarled.
The Ancient Breed Page 14