The Aleppo Code (The Jerusalem Prophecies)

by Terry Brennan

  “Sammy!” A lump gathered in Rodriguez’s throat, a lightness fluttered in his chest, and an urgent and grateful prayer erupted from his heart. Bohannon and his wife pressed in at the entrance while Rodriguez struggled into the cave. Rizzo was hanging upside-down, halfway through a narrow opening, maybe ten feet above Rodriguez. Steady rivulets of water rolled down Rizzo’s body from several locations, falling into Rodriguez’s upturned face.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “I think I cracked a rib. Hurts to breathe.”

  “Can you move?”

  “My arms and legs still work, thank God. But the rest of me is stuck. I fell, and I’m wedged in here. I don’t think I can move. And I feel like I’ve been in a car wreck.”

  “Okay,” said Joe. “Close your eyes for a minute.”

  Rodriguez ran the beam from the MagLite around the space that imprisoned Rizzo. There were small openings, enough for the water to run through, but Rizzo appeared to be wedged tight against the walls on all sides. His arms and head were through the narrow opening, and his shoulders were slightly protruding. But from his collarbone back, Rizzo was stuck on the other side of the stricture. Rodriguez made note of the blood dripping from Rizzo’s forehead. He turned off the light.

  “Hang in there, Sam. I’ll be right back.”

  Rodriguez heard the mumble as he pulled himself out of the opening. “Hang in there? A wise guy. Always a wise guy.”

  Two anxious faces, and more water moving along the tunnel, were waiting for Rodriguez.

  “He’s hanging upside down, stuck in a narrow portion of the shaft. His arms and head are through the narrowing, but he’s stuck from his shoulders back. More water’s coming down on top of him. Said he fell, but I don’t know from where, or how far.”

  Annie reached out and touched Joe’s arm. “Is he hurt?”

  Rodriguez nodded his head. “Yeah. Sounds like he cracked a rib. And he’s bleeding from his head somewhere. But he looks terrible. His eyes are wild looking, and his face is pale. I’d say he’s not far from shock, or hypothermia, or both. We need to get him out of there.”

  “We need to get us out of here,” said Bohannon. “I don’t know what’s happening with our pursuers, but this water’s risen about two inches since we’ve been standing here. We don’t have much time.”

  Rizzo tried to wriggle his shoulders, but there was no movement. His arms, stuck out in front of him, were useless. Although the walls were only inches from his fingers, he couldn’t reach them. There was no way for him to push himself up. No way to twist himself down.

  Water ran down his back, around his ears and over his face, some getting in his nose.

  He shook his head.

  “Are you guys waiting for a bus? Get me out of here or I’m gonna drown while standing on my head.”

  Bohannon looked over Joe’s shoulder at the cave opening on the floor. The water was rising into the opening.

  “Can you get to him?”

  Rodriguez shook his head, a grimace crossing his face. “Even if I stand up in there, and I raise my arms, I think he’s going to be a couple of feet above me. But that’s not the biggest problem. He can’t get through the opening. He’s not going back up that chute. We’ve got to get him on this side of the opening.”

  Bohannon looked into his brother-in-law’s eyes. “And we need to do it now.”

  Rizzo watched as Rodriguez pressed himself through the opening at the base of the wall, water covering the lower half. He tried to control his breathing, tried to still the shivers running up and down his spine, tried to quell the voice declaring his impending death. He could still breathe. There was still hope.

  His friends were here. He was no longer alone. And they wouldn’t abandon him. Unless …

  Rodriguez shined his MagLite up at Rizzo, blinding him for a moment.

  Unless they had to run for their lives.

  Joe was desperate. He examined the sides of the tunnel around Rizzo, looking for cracks … something to open the space wider. The water, and Rizzo’s blood, kept getting into his eyes, blurring his vision. He almost missed it entirely.

  Rodriguez wiped the back of his hand over his eyes, clearing the blurs for a moment. He extended his arm as far as it would go and played the beam of his light on Rizzo.

  “Sam, are you wearing your pack?”

  Sam had turned his head away from the bright light. “Why … you want my pajamas?”

  “Sam!”

  Rizzo raised his head and stared into the light. “Yeah. I’d probably be dead if it hadn’t cushioned the abrupt stop. Why? Wait!” Rizzo tried to see Rodriguez through the light as the reality dawned on him. “I can’t reach it.”

  Joe slid back down the shaft and splashed through the opening. He needed to grab Tom’s hand to get to his feet. Annie was leaning against the far wall of the passage, holding all three of their packs out of the ankle-deep water. Joe fished into the side pocket of his pack and pulled out a pocketknife he kept to razor sharpness. He turned to Tom.

  “I need you to hold me up. I need to get up to Sammy and try to cut the straps to his pack off his shoulders. Then maybe we can pull him loose.”

  Bohannon looked down at the rising water.

  “I know. It’s getting high,” said Rodriguez. “I just need a couple more feet.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Rodriguez pushed back through the hole—where the water level now covered half the opening—with his flashlight in one hand and his knife in the other.

  “I ain’t gonna be some sacrifice to the water god.”

  “Shut up, Sam.”

  Rodriguez stood up and spread his legs as wide as the sides of the tunnel would allow.

  “Okay, Tom.”

  Bohannon squeezed through the opening, but stayed on the floor. He pivoted and pushed his back against the wall facing the opening.

  Rodriguez placed one boot firmly on Bohannon’s left shoulder. “Ready?” he asked.

  “Just do it,” Tom replied.

  Rodriguez stepped on his right shoulder, raising off the ground a good three feet. Joe felt a shudder underfoot as Tom moaned aloud under the pressure,

  It was a tight fit that high in the tube, not much room for Rodriguez to maneuver. He switched the knife to his left hand with the flashlight and reached out with his right. He laid his right hand against Rizzo’s cheek.

  “Hi, Sam. Good to see you again.”

  “No tears, Goliath. Get me out of here. And brush your teeth.”

  With his right fingers Rodriguez tried to wriggle between Rizzo’s left shoulder and the shoulder strap of the backpack.

  “Ooowww. Oh, man … that hurts.”

  “Gotta try, Sam. That’s the only way we can get you free. Here. Let me push you up a little bit. Maybe that will loosen the tension. Gonna push, Tom!”

  The boots cut into Bohannon’s shoulders, bringing tears to his eyes. He ground his teeth and then bit down on his tongue to keep from screaming. What was more troublesome was the chest-high water that nearly filled the shaft’s opening.

  Taking the knife into his right hand and putting his left hand against Rizzo’s collarbone, Rodriguez pushed against the wedge and the force of Rizzo’s body. He felt the shoulder strap go momentarily limp and darted the knife blade under the strap and sliced across its face. The cords flayed against the sharp edge.

  Bohannon desperately tried to steady himself under Rodriguez’s boots, his hands hard against the walls. But when Rodriguez pushed to get closer to Rizzo, Bohannon began to slip. His right shoulder caved under Rodriguez’s weight. The pressure pushed him down into the water and farther out the opening. Suddenly, the water was up to Bohannon’s chin.

  The blade nearly sliced Rizzo’s neck as Bohannon rocked under Rodriguez’s feet. Gotta hurry.

  This time Rodriguez needed to reach across his body, the knife in his right hand as he pushed once more against Rizzo’s collarbone. Bohannon rocked some more, Rodriguez lost his balance, and the blade plunged in
to his left forearm.

  Bohannon’s mouth was open to scream. He barely had time to pull in another breath when Rodriguez pushed down onto Bohannon’s shoulders once again, driving Tom’s mouth and nose underwater. And the water was rising.

  Rodriguez grabbed a fistful of Rizzo’s shirt and held fast. He pulled the blade free from his arm and, with one swipe, sliced through both the strap on Rizzo’s right shoulder and the fabric of Rizzo’s shirt. A thin, red line appeared on Rizzo’s shirt. But Rodriguez had no thought of possible cuts. He closed the knife against his right thigh, stuffed it into his back pants pocket, grabbed Rizzo with both hands and pulled with all the strength left in his body.

  The force from Rodriguez’s feet drove Bohannon’s head under the surface of the water. He fought for purchase, his fingers digging against the smooth sides of the shaft, his legs thrashing as he tried to find an edge to push his boots against, torn between the need to keep Rodriguez upright enough to rescue Rizzo and his growing desperation for air.

  Rodriguez was inches from Rizzo’s bulging eyes. “Pull!”

  Joe wrapped his fingers into Rizzo’s shirt, tightened his muscles, and pulled hard.

  When Bohannon slipped farther underwater, Rodriguez was left dangling from Rizzo’s shirt.

  Rizzo felt the pack break loose from his shoulders as Rodriguez’s weight inched his body through the narrow opening. One shoulder popped through. Then … like an onrushing flood, Rizzo burst through the opening.

  Tom flew out of the opening as if he was exiting a water slide, shooting across the larger passage and running into Annie’s legs. He spluttered to his hands and knees in the fast-moving current, shook his head, and dove back under the water.

  Like a sack of stone, Rodriguez plunged into the water. And Rizzo dropped right on top of him. Stunned by the collision, Rodriguez took in a mouthful of water. His airways blocked, he began convulsing, with Rizzo lodged against the wall by Rodriguez’s bucking body.

  The opening was completely covered by the rising water. Rodriguez’s MagLite had fallen to the floor of the shaft under the water, but it was still on. All Bohannon could see in the swirling twilight was one leg sticking out of the opening. He tugged on the leg, but the rest of Joe’s body was flailing around inside. Bohannon looked up into the hole for some way to free Rodriguez … and saw Rizzo, his eyes bulging, his hands twisted into the collar of Rodriguez’s shirt, shaking Joe like a rag doll and screaming bubbles into the water.

  Bohannon pushed against Rodriguez’s leg.

  The push on his leg got Joe’s head back above water. He coughed out the water in his throat and sucked in some air as he steadied his feet on the floor, grabbed Rizzo under the arms, and got him right side up. “Gotta get out, Sam.”

  Rizzo nodded, closed his eyes, and held his nose. Joe spread his feet and lowered Sammy into the water.

  Bohannon needed air. His left hand steadying him against the growing current, Bohannon pushed his head above the surface, sucked in some air, and dropped back underwater to see Rizzo’s legs sticking out of the opening. He pulled. Rizzo twitched, but came through the opening. Bohannon wrapped his left arm around Rizzo’s waist, struggled to get his boots flat onto the floor, pushed his body up against the wall, and lifted Rizzo out of the water.

  36

  10:46 p.m., Babylon

  They were reunited, but still in mortal danger, desperate for a way out of this rapidly flooding tunnel.

  Rizzo was in pain, dazed from his fall, and too weak to force his way through water that would have been up to his waist. Tom didn’t know how badly Rizzo was injured, but he didn’t look good. Neither did Annie—though she wouldn’t say anything. And Joe was bleeding from the gash in his arm.

  “Let me take the packs,” said Joe. “You and Annie help Sam.”

  Tom knew they had to find a way out, quickly, or they would all succumb to hypothermia. He grabbed the flashlight from Annie.

  “Let’s go.”

  There was no more conversation.

  Tom sloshed forward, down the tunnel, the current at his back. The tunnel was high enough to walk in. But where were they going? How were they going to get out? And what about the staff? Now that he had a moment to think, Tom took a moment to pray. I don’t understand. If you want us to find Aaron’s staff, why are you making it so hard? Why are there so many obstacles?

  “Didn’t you expect opposition?”

  “What?” Tom glanced over his shoulder. Annie had her head down, concentrating on guiding Rizzo along the slippery clay floor, and Joe was struggling under the weight of the extra packs.

  “Didn’t you expect opposition? Our enemy doesn’t want the staff recovered. He knows it will be used against him and will orchestrate his final defeat.”

  Tom’s mind and emotions were reeling in a jumble of confusion. He was wet, cold, and frightened. And now …

  “Don’t be afraid.”

  Are you kidding? Where have you been? We’re going to die down here.

  “Don’t be afraid. I will never leave you or forsake you. So I haven’t left you now. Have faith. And stay on the right path.”

  He swept his flashlight back and forth through the darkness in front of him, but Tom felt no hope.

  Platitudes? We don’t need platitudes. We need a miracle. If you didn’t bring us here to die, we need a miracle.

  “We need a miracle.”

  Tom stumbled at the sound of the voice behind him, and almost fell into the water. He turned to find Annie close to his side.

  “Tom … we need a miracle,” she whispered. “Otherwise …”

  “I know. We’re in pretty bad shape.”

  Tom had his left hand braced on the side of the shaft while the flashlight in his right scanned the space in front of them. Annie was walking tight to the wall, leaning into it for traction as she tried to keep Sammy steady. The current in the river had been accelerating, and now all were struggling to keep their footing.

  Tom’s flashlight spotted the change coming.

  The tunnel took a sharp turn to the left just ahead of them, the water sweeping around the turn in a swift current.

  “Stay to the left if you can. The current is fastest on the right,” Tom said over his shoulder. As he turned back to the front, his hand slipped off the wall, throwing him off balance. As Bohannon’s feet were swept forward, snatched up from under him, a vision of underwater terror and a cry for help were stifled by the hands that held his shoulders steady. Bohannon’s boots found the floor, and he turned to thank his rescuer. Annie and Joe were wide-eyed, both hands plastered to the left wall.

  “You were falling,” said Annie. “How did you stay up?”

  “I know. I—” Tom’s light fell against the far wall.

  In the shadows, high in the wall to the right as the river made its violent swerve to the left, was the black void of a large shaft. To the right. Stay on the right path. He remembered the voice in his mind, the direction in his spirit, the answer to his prayer not that long ago. Tom hadn’t noticed the opening earlier. He was concentrating on the water as it rushed around the corner to the left. If I hadn’t lost my balance, we may have never seen that tunnel.

  “Are you okay?” Annie placed her hand on his shoulder.

  “You look like death,” said Joe.

  “Tom, are you all right?” Annie repeated.

  He closed his eyes and carefully rolled his neck, trying to release the tension. “I don’t know.” He felt like a heart attack in a wet shirt—sick, in pain, cold, and clammy. He needed to sleep for a month. He forced his eyes open. “I thought I was a goner. I don’t see how I stayed upright. Somebody grabbed my shoulders. It was dark and fast and frightening, and I—”

  “Tom.” It was Annie’s voice. Soft. Calm. “You’re here. You’re with us. You’re safe. We’re going to be okay.”

  Tom looked up at his wife.

  “I know. There’s a way out.”

  Annie had the only working flashlight left between the four of th
em. She turned it toward the yawning shaft and wished its beam into the darkness. “How do you know? How can you be sure that’s the way we should go?”

  “Well, for one thing, it looks like the only real alternative. We can’t go that way,” Tom said, hitching his thumb toward the tube from which they could now hear the deep-throated rumble of falling water, “and I don’t think going back is a viable alternative. But even if that weren’t the case, I’d bet my life that is the way out. I heard a voice … I was told to take the right way. And that’s the right way.”

  Annie looked over at the mouth of the shaft. Right or wrong, did they have any choice? “All right. But how are we going to get there?”

  The opening was on the other side, across the racing water. And it was higher up the side of the tunnel, tucked inside a small alcove that made it hard to see. Twenty-five hundred years ago, the opening was probably at floor level. Not anymore.

  “I know a way.”

  Annie turned to look into the eyes of Rizzo. He was leaning against Rodriguez, his hands holding fast to Joe’s belt as he struggled against the current. He looked almost as bad as Tom, but firmness had returned to his voice.

  “It’s about time I pulled my own weight.”

  Rizzo hated the fact that he felt this vulnerable, this helpless, this much a captive of his small stature and limited physical ability. He knew he owed his life to Joe and Tom, and his heart ached for how much the two of them had risked rescuing him. But he was helpless then, and he felt helpless now, weakened, waterlogged, and incapable of taking care of himself. If he tried to walk in this raging torrent racing through the tunnel, he would be gone in the blink of an eye. He was a liability. Until now.

  Rizzo had climbed up onto Tom’s back and was tying a length of rope into a harness around the chest and shoulders of Joe. The other end of the rope was tied to a piton driven high into the wall above his head. “The harness will give your body more stability if you slip into the water, more than if you just tied it to one point, like on your belt.”