“That bald one, the German,” she said after a minute. “You knew him.” This was not a question.
Caraway grunted a harsh laugh. “Thought I did. Just goes to show ya, you can’t ever trust a Kraut.”
“They are going to kill us, yes?”
Caraway opened and closed his mouth, unsure how or whether to tell the truth. He was no stranger to death. Since becoming head of the Special Crimes Squad he had faced mobsters and monsters and everything in between; he knew it was only a matter of time before he kicked the bucket. But for Sotiria, still young and beautiful, death was less a fact than a distant thought. “Ken went to get help,” he said, finally, not sure if he believed it himself. “I’m sure of it.”
“Who can help us now?” she asked weakly.
Caraway let out another sardonic chuckle. “Jethro Dumont.”
Sotiria pinched her face in bewilderment. “The millionaire? I heard he once slept with—”
“Sotiria, no offense, but the last thing I want to talk about right now is my friend’s sex life.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, it’s not worth it.”
“Can I ask you a question, John? If things had been different, if you were not married, I mean, would you have—?”
Caraway smiled and glanced toward her. “Sweetheart, there would’ve been nothing on God’s green earth that would’ve stopped me.”
Sotiria smiled at that. “Well, I suppose that is—” she cut herself short when they heard the rustle of footsteps approaching.
The Nazi with the Van Dyke entered the clearing and walked up to them, flanked by two robed men, their faces hidden in the shadows. Placing his hands behind his back, he smiled as he looked over his captives. “It is time.”
• • •
The fight had been quick and silent. Jethro and Ken dragged the last of the unconscious cultists into the brush and stripped them of their robes. Pulling the hood over his head, Jethro noticed Ken’s expression. “What?”
Ken blinked rapidly, failing to hide his stupefaction. “It’s just… You look like—” he stuttered. “I mean, never mind.”
“He kind of looks like the Green Lama,” Jean commented as she threw on her hood, hiding a mischievous grin.
“Yeah,” Ken said hesitantly, peaking his eyebrows. “But only from the corner of my eye. Weird.”
Jethro gave Ken a shallow smile. “Come,” he said as moved toward the ruins. “We have to find Caraway before its too late.”
Leaving the brush, they fell into step with the line of chanting cultists. “Iä Iä Cthulhu fhtagn!” the cultists repeated over and over, an invocation spoken in a guttural yet lyrical voice. Entering the heart of the ruins, they could see the Nazi officials, including Gan, standing just off to the right of the altar, all visibly anxious. Vasili stood just behind the broken pillars, his jaw slack, eyes vacant. At the center was Alexei, pressing the Necronomicon against his body. Thin black lines covered his face; his eyes were a pair of obsidian orbs, while his wolfish grin glistened white in the firelight.
“Good God,” Jean breathed, staring at Alexei’s destroyed visage. “What happened to him?”
“Whatever he really is, it’s starting to show,” Ken whispered back.
A strange buzzing seemed to echo through the air, similar to the sensation Jethro had experienced in the living cloud. “Do you feel that?”
“Like there’s a bee flying around the back of your head? Yeah,” Jean replied, unconsciously lifting her hand to her head.
Ken shook his head. “I don’t feel anything, except—gah!” he exclaimed, covering his ears as a tremendous croak! echoed through the complex.
Jethro turned toward the source, his jaw clenched in horror as he watched hundreds—if not thousands—of naked Deep Ones march out of the darkness in swaying unison behind a masked figure, stopping just short of the main altar. There was a small gasp from the Nazi officers, and Jethro could see Gottschalk covering his mouth in shock at the sight of the inhuman creatures, a dark stain forming in the crotch of his pants. For his part, Gan remained unmoved and unafraid, his hands placed behind his back as if he were under inspection. The masked figure wobbled over to Alexei and bowed deeply, pressing his masked face against Alexei’s foot as if he were kissing it.
“Iä Iä Cthulhu fhtagn!” the masked figure rasped.
“Iä Iä Cthulhu fhtagn, Ke’ta!” Alexei replied in a booming voice. “I am pleased to see the Deep Ones here at the time of alignment!”
“Iä Iä Cthulhu fhtagn!” the Deep Ones all croaked in unison.
Ke’ta pulled off his jade mask, revealing his true nature to the Nazis. His black, bulbous eyes unreadable, he gave the German officials a stiff-armed salute and a throaty “Heil Hitler!” Obergruppenführer Gottschalk weakly returned the gesture.
Wide-eyed, Jean tugged at Jethro’s sleeve and pointed at the ground as pockets of soil began to churn around their feet. In seconds, the complex was flowing with tentacles, littered with loathsome creatures without any clear definition beyond twisting, writhing, grey sacks of organs and appendages. At the front of the altar a gigantic mass of boneless limbs burrowed out of the ground and slithered toward Alexei. Reaching out with a long, forked tentacle, the wriggling mass touched Alexei’s extended hand in a clear sign of submission.
“Shudde M’ell, god of the Chthonians,” Alexei said to the beast. “We are pleased to see you and your followers here on this night.”
“Iä Iä Cthulhu fhtagn!” Shudde M’ell gurgled. The tentacled Chthonians immediately followed suit.
“Okay, I think it’s fair enough to say I’m officially scared out of my mind,” Ken breathed.
“After everything we’ve been through,” Jean said through gritted teeth as she watched a Chthonian slither by,” guess that’s saying something.”
Jethro watched as the Deep Ones and Chthonians fell in place before the altar, his stomach twisting in fear. He had seen darkness in many forms since he first bore the Jade Tablet, but he had never seen horrors like this.
This sight before him was maddening, monsters that seemed to defy all theories of evolution, that were at once alien yet bound to this world. What was most frightening of all was the knowledge that this was only the first wave of atrocities they would be facing. And if Rabbi Brickman’s predictions were to be believed, it would all end with his death.
Alexei threw his arms in the air, and the complex fell silent. “Iä Iä Cthulhu fhtagn!” he shouted.
“Iä Iä Cthulhu fhtagn!” the congregation called back.
“We have waited six millennia for this day!” Alexei howled, speaking in every language at once, the black lines on his face growing with each word. Holding the Necronomicon over his head, he continued. “‘That is not dead which can eternal lie. And with strange aeons even death may die.’ So are the words of Abdul Alhazred. The stars have come right! Glyyu-Uho, Celaeno, Algol, Baalbo, Ogntlach, Yifne, Arcturus, Fomalhaut and Xoth align to raise the son of Vhoorl! Iä Iä Cthulhu fhtagn! For the stars to align! Iä Iä Cthulhu fhtagn! For the city to rise! Iä Iä Cthulhu fhtagn! For the Great Old Ones to awaken! Iä Iä Cthulhu fhtagn! Iä Iä Cthulhu fhtagn!”
“Iä Iä Cthulhu fhtagn!” they replied.
A scream echoed out from the darkness. “Let us go, you bastards!”
“John,” Jethro breathed as Caraway and a sobbing Sotiria were dragged past the Nazi officials.
“Burn in hell, you piece of shit!” Caraway growled as he spit in Gan’s face.
“Oh God,” Jean cried out. “It’s happening just like he said.” She pushed her way through the crowd. “Come on, we have to get closer before it’s too late.”
“Blood!” Alexei cried as they tied Caraway and Sotiria to two wooden poles. “Blood must be spilled for R’lyeh! Blood must be drawn by a Scion!” He walked over to Dr. Hammond, who placed a sheathed blade in his hand. Turning back the throng of humans and monsters, Alexei unsheathed the blade, held it above his head, and the night
erupted in green light. The crowd shielded their eyes and bowed their heads in reverence. “Blood must fall on the Blade of the Elder Ones to open the gates! Blood of Adam! Blood of Eve! Iä Iä Cthulhu fhtagn!”
“What’s that he’s got in his hand?” Ken asked as the cultists began to chant louder and louder.
Jethro’s eyes went wide, recognizing the crystal blade from his dream— the blade that would kill him. “It’s the phurba! Om! Tare Tuttare Ture Soha! It’s the Shard, the missing piece of the Third Tablet!”
Alexei walked over to Vasili and placed the Shard in his hands. “By the hand of a Scion must the blood run!” Despite his vacant gaze a thin, unnatural smile formed on Vasili’s lips. Alexei placed a hand on Vasili’s shoulder and led him over to Sotiria.
“No,” Sotiria whimpered, tears pouring down her cheeks as Vasili stumbled toward her. “Please help me. Anyone, please, please help.”
There was a wave of laughter from the crowd.
“I don’t like where this is—” Ken said when a cultist suddenly grabbed him by the throat. His face red, Ken tried to pry himself free, but the cloaked man was too powerful.
“Você não parará a cerimônia!” the cultist screamed, pressing down on Ken’s windpipe.
“Ken!” Jean shouted, pulling out her gun and shooting the attacker in the head.
On the altar Alexei smiled broadly as everyone turned toward the sound of the gunshot. “He’s here!” he exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement.
“Jethro!” Caraway shouted, looking hopefully out into the crowd. “Don’t worry, Sotiria! It’s gonna be okay!”
His mouth agape, Gan stepped toward the edge of the altar. “Dumont!”
“He’s alive?” Gottschalk asked in shock.
Two cultists threw themselves at Jethro. Elbowing one of his attackers in the throat, Jethro spun out and kneed the other in the groin. But before he could move, three more cultists were on him, grabbing him by the arms and throat.
“Om Ah Ra Pa Cha Na Dhih!” Jethro shouted as he struggled against their hold. Thrusting his head back, he crushed the nose of one of his attackers with an audible crack! Using this momentary surprise, Jethro quickly sidestepped and kicked out the legs of the cultist on his right. As the man’s weight pulled him down, Jethro swung his left arm, throwing the other assailant on top of his compatriot, their heads colliding with a bone cracking smash! Freeing himself, Jethro launched forward and vaulted over a broken pillar. He caught a low hanging branch and swung into the air toward the altar.
Meanwhile, Ken weaved his way through the crowd when something caught onto his leg and pulled him back. Looking down he found a Chthonian wrapping its tentacles around his leg.
“None shall stop the rising!” the creature said in a gurgling, bubbling voice.
Screaming, Ken pounded his fist as hard as he could against the creature’s pulpy grey sack of a body, sending tissue and plasma spraying into the air.
Nearing the altar, Jethro was close enough to see inside the deep crevices of Alexei’s face, black ooze flowing beneath the skin. He was almost there. He could save her, could save them both. It would all be—
“Dumont!” the doctor screamed as he leaped off the altar and knocked Jethro to the ground, grabbing him by the throat. His eyes blazed, spit flew from his mouth as he screeched, “Do you remember me now, Green Lama? Do you remember me? You stupid Amerikaner! Look me in the eyes and tell me you remember me!”
Jethro’s eyes went wide, at last recognizing the scarred face beneath the Van Dyke beard. “Heydrich!” Jethro wheezed as he fought against the madman’s grip.
Heydrich laughed manically as he pressed down on Jethro’s windpipe. “I want you to watch this, Green Lama. I want you to watch the birth of the world you helped create.”
“Let the blade taste blood!” Alexei commanded as Vasili mindlessly pressed the Shard up against Sotiria’s throat.
Sotiria looked into Vasili’s vacant eyes. “ Vasili,” she begged, shaking her head. “Please, Vasili, don’t.”
“ Vasili, stop!” Caraway shouted, struggling to break free. “It’s Sotiria! Can’t you see! Don’t do this!”
“Please, Vasili!” Sotiria begged. “Please, it’s me. Please, don’t do this. I’m so sorry. Please, Vasili, I love—!”
Vasili plunged the crystalline blade into Sotiria’s throat, slicing across as blood spilled out down her neck, soaking her shirt and pooling onto the ground.
“NOOO!!!” Caraway screamed.
“Iä Iä Cthulhu fhtagn!” the cultists screamed in unison. The ruins erupted with green light as the Shard blasted a column of energy thundering into the sky. The earth began to shake, threatening to rip apart beneath them.
“Do you see, Dumont?” Heydrich laughed, blissfully watching the energy climb into space. “Do you see the dawn of a magnificent new era?”
“Hey, jackass!” Jean shouted as she pressed her gun against Heydrich’s temple. “Looks like we meet in this timeline!” She fired twice, black ooze erupting out of Heydrich’s skull. Heydrich screamed in pain, clutching his head as he fell away, one eye hanging loose from its socket.
“That won’t stop him for long,” Jean said as she helped Jethro off the ground. “Trust me.”
Jethro gripped her shoulder for support. “Jean, we’ve failed.”
She touched his face and said simply, “Caraway.”
Jethro’s eyes steeled over as the earth shook again, cracking the ground. Taking Jean’s hand, they shielded their eyes as they jumped onto the altar, blindly searching for Caraway.
“John!” Jethro shouted over the chanting and roaring beam of energy. “John, can you hear me?”
An eternity passed before they heard, “Jethro!”
Jethro turned at the sound of Caraway’s voice. “John, we’re coming—!” he choked as the air suddenly rushed out of his lungs. Jean fell to her knees, gripping her throat.
“Come, now,” Alexei laughed, walking out of the light. His face was cracked beyond recognition to the point that he no longer appeared human. “Did you really believe I was going to let you just walk away? Ah, Jean Farrell,” he said as he ran his fingers through her hair, twisted it around his fist, and pulled her head back. “You’ve caused quite a bit of problems since I arrested you, haven’t you? I confess I was quite saddened when you didn’t recognize me then. How do you think you were transported clear across New York City and just happened to find the bearer of the Second Tablet? But then again, I had played with your memories.” Throwing her down, he sauntered over to Jethro and ran his nails down the side of Jethro’s face, drawing blood. “And of course, Jethro Dumont, the Green Lama, how I longed for this day! You played your part so well, I thought you had rehearsed! But then again, the lamas at the Temple of the Clouds were training you for this for ten years.” He looked over both Jean and Jethro with a warm smile. “And now here you both are, the last two Scions, all mine!”
Jethro watched through the haze of light and asphyxiation as a grenade fell at Alexei’s feet. Without a moment to spare, Jethro grabbed Jean and quickly pulled her behind a broken column as the grenade went off, blasting Alexei into a thousand pieces. Jean and Jethro gasped as air rushed back into their lungs. The green light that blanketed the complex instantly disappeared. Vasili dropped to the ground unconscious, the Shard clattering against the altar’s stone floor. A cacophony of screams echoed through the ruins at the sight of Alexei’s dismembered remains splattered across the altar, black ooze flowing out of the chunks.
Someone grabbed Jethro by the arm. “What in the hell just happened?” Ken asked in between gasps of air. “Looked like the sky just cracked open!”
“It’s worse than that, Ken,” Jean said, woefully. “Good move with the grenade, though.”
“I didn’t throw it, Jean,” Ken confessed.
“Run, Dumont! You don’t have much time!” Gan whispered as he slid down beside them. He pressed a folded piece of paper into Jethro’s hand. “You have to hurry to
these coordinates. It is where the doctor told us the city would rise. No matter what happens you must get there before they wake Cthulhu.”
“Not without Caraway,” Jethro said.
Gan glanced behind the column, instantly measuring the horde of cultists and creatures, and nodded. “I’ll buy you some time.” Running up to the altar, he shouted: “Herbei, ihr Soldaten! Feuer frei! Nichts soll am Leben bleiben!”The complex erupted in gunfire as the Nazi soldiers hidden within the brush began mowing down anyone and anything within the ruins.
They found Caraway on the ground, still bound to the wooden pole. His face was slightly burned and bruised, but he was alive. “Sotiria… No…” he moaned.
“He’s in shock, but he’ll recover,” Jethro said as he and Ken removed Caraway’s bindings and lifted him up off the ground. “Jean, keep an eye out.”
“Got it,” she said, reloading her weapon. “Let’s get the hell off this island.”
PART 3: CALL OF CTHULHU
CHAPTER 15
TROUBLE ABOARD
The boulder tumbled down the side of the mountain, a sound that echoed through the snowcapped world like thunder. “How many pounds was that?” Dumont asked with a broad smile as he dusted off his hands. He looked younger, more energetic, and seemed to have grown several inches taller since he had begun taking the radioactive salts. Muscles pushed against his robes; even his eyes seemed to glow in the shadows.
“Two thousand, four hundred and one pounds and—” Tsarong paused as he reread the measurement in his notebook. “—forty-two ounces. A new record, Tulku.”
Dumont furrowed his brow in disbelief. “You’re lying.”
Tsarong turned the book toward Dumont. “Take a look yourself, Tulku.”
“Om! Ma-ni Pad-me Hum! That’s impossible,” he jovially declared as he looked over the notebook in fascination. “I’m not even breaking a sweat! Heck, I don’t even feel tired. This radioactive salt!” he exclaimed, pounding his chest with his fist. “I can feel its energy flowing through every cell in my body like an electric current, and the most amazing thing about it, Tsarong, is that I know I’m only scratching the surface.”
The Green Lama: Unbound (The Green Lama Legacy Book 3) Page 21