Looking at the key access panel, he whispered, “A little help girls?”
Ghostly hands played across the keypad. The pad turned from red to green, and Blount entered the elevator then descended.
Chapter Two
Rugby Rock, North Dakota –
Sam set the chopper on the ground gently and powered down. She was frustrated and exhausted, and the stresses of the past hours were taking their toll.
Archer nudged Carling and she jerked awake with a start. Her gaze came to rest on Archer, and if looks could’ve killed he would’ve dropped dead on the spot.
“Where to?” he said.
Carling looked out the window and pointed. “That way. We’ll have to go the rest of the way on foot.”
“If this is a trap…” Archer let the threat hang in the air between them. He turned to Palmer and Sam and addressed them. “Sam, you take lead. Palmer, take up the rear, if you don’t mind. We’ll stagger it out a bit, just in case. I’ll stay with our guest here.”
They exited the chopper and began walking
Archer and Palmer escorted Carling at gunpoint as she led them across a vast stretch of land. Sam was now in the rear, covering their progress. The cold crept up on them like second skins. They walked and walked into the night, forever it seemed, as the stars glittered down on them.
A structure appeared in the distance. It looked like an abandoned war bunker—something left over from World War I, or perhaps even older. Scorching marred the old stone, and there was graffiti here and there. A massive blast door, crafted to look like stone to the casual observer, covered the entrance.
“What is this?” Archer said, squeezing Carling’s arm.
She pulled her arm free and shot him a spiteful look. “Patience, Thaddeus.” Carling muttered a few arcane words, unrecognizable to Archer and Palmer, and then placed her hand against the door. A bluish light glowed beneath her palm, and then the door slid away from the entrance with a groan.
A stench wafted out from the pitch-black opening and Palmer covered his nose.
“Let’s go,” Archer said as they filed in.
Torches ignited at Carling’s arrival. Rows of them on the walls added flickering light to a corridor that stretched into the void.
The four continued until they reached a large, open room filled with symbols and carvings on the walls. Giant symbols glowed on the floor. Sam had seen documentaries on the inner workings of missile silos and realized they were in an abandoned one.
“Where is she?” Archer demanded. “I want to see her now.”
“She is here…have no fear.”
“You best stop dicking us around,” Palmer said. “You’re messing with a pissed-off father. I’d be a little more forthcoming if it were me, y’know?”
“Listen to the man,” Archer said.
“Casey is safe. She is the One. The One we have waited a lifetime for.”
“What in Christ’s name are you talking about?”
“He cannot help you now. Only our God exists. His time has come.”
Archer raised his pistol, his grip tightening on it. “Bitch, so help me I will bash your brains in…don’t think I won’t. I’m done playing games.”
Carling broke into maniacal cackling, while her eyes lit with cruel madness.
“Come,” she beckoned, leading them to a passage in the back of the room that ended where stairs crawled farther down into the darkness.
To the right of the stairs, Archer noticed a small alcove. The glow of monitors bathed the room in purple light. He glanced in and realized the monitors were for the perimeter cameras covering the blast door, the corridor beyond, and the surrounding area outside the entrance. The lack of people troubled him. They could’ve been observed during their approach here, and even now the rest of the cult could be farther below, lying in ambush. He motioned for Palmer to keep an eye on Carling and pulled Sam aside so their conversation wouldn’t be overheard.
“I want you to stay here and watch these monitors—just in case we run into a trap below.”
Sam nodded and wiped sweat from her forehead. “Good idea.” She passed into the alcove and grabbed something small and compact. She pressed the object into Archer’s hand, and he glanced down, realizing it was a compact radio. He pressed the transmit button and squelch echoed from Sam’s receiver.
Sam offered him her hand. “Good luck. I hope you find your daughter down there.”
Thaddeus ignored the hand and pecked Sam on the cheek. “Thanks for all your help. See you soon.”
Archer and Palmer took up torches and followed the stairs down into another room. A pedestal with a book sitting on it, and an altar at its base, were the centerpiece of this place. There upon the altar, still sleeping, lay Casey Archer, her naked, painted body glistening in the torchlight.
“Casey!” Archer rushed to her side and took her hand. “I’m here baby, I’m here…Casey!”
As Archer nearly succumbed to his emotions, two robed figures emerged out of the dark and grabbed Palmer unawares. They gagged him and dragged him back into the shadows. Laughter erupted from Carling, once she and Archer were left alone in the room.
“Shut up!” Archer said, his eye welling with tears. “What have you done to her? Wake her up or so help me…”
Carling stopped laughing. “She isn’t ready to wake just yet, Thaddeus. She is the One.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She brings us back the Old One. Our God. Casey Archer will begin a whole new world.”
“The hell she will! I’m taking her out of here.”
“It’s too late. Much, much too late for that. The new world is already here. Just one last sacrifice! One last sacrifice!”
“How’s this for a sacrifice!” Archer raised his pistol and fired. The shot hit Carling square between the eyes, and she went down hard, her neck snapping back, her stare frozen in shock.
“You’ll never get to meet your God,” Archer said as he tried to slide his arms beneath his daughter’s body, but found the girl as stiff as petrified wood, and as heavy as a hundred tons.
* * *
Sam jumped as she heard the shot below. She quickly scanned the monitors, but none presented a view of the situation. As her gaze came to rest on a monitor at the top left, she sucked in a breath.
The front entrance was jammed with the dead. There must have been hundreds of them. Where had they all come from?
“We’re OK. That’s two feet of steel. No way can they breach that.”
Just as she finished speaking, the large door moved inward. She pulled her weapon and racked a round, then keyed her radio. “We’re about to have company.”
The mass of bodies surged and the door moved a few more inches. Through the cracks, shadows slithered. The dead abruptly stopped their assault and moved back, assembling in two neat rows on either side of the blast doors. Something massive moved through their midst. Sam peered at the monitor in confusion as the creature stalked forward and placed its enormous hands against the steel.
What stood before the blast doors was difficult for Sam’s brain to process. She could feel madness taking root in her being. The creature’s bulk was mammoth, and the confines of the corridor could barely contain its girth. Seven viper heads writhed in and out of its numerous, oily wings. There were two faces on each head. They cackled madly until the laughter became like a spasm. The faces jostled for supremacy, until one of the heads slithered forward and fixed its gaze on the security camera. The sensation of seeing two faces with discordant expressions made Sam’s head throb, but she forced herself to keep looking at the monitor.
“What the hell is that?”
The steel beneath the creature’s hands turned to liquid at its touch. Massive fingers slid through and appeared on the opposite side of the blast door.
“That’s impossible.”
She pulled her pistol and ensured there was a round ready, keeping her focus on the screen as the creature walked through the steel a
nd emerged on the opposite side.
“Archer, we’ve got a major problem topside.” Sam got nothing but static in response. She tried once more with the same result. “I’ll go and hold it off as long as I can…”
She didn’t wait for a response. A few moments later she peered around the corner of the corridor at the creature, as it was just about to open the barrier.
“Hey, ugly!” she called out and stepped into the middle of the hallway.
The monster paused, but didn’t turn around. It chuckled from deep in its chest, sounding like pebbles in a tin can. “Samantha Veleska.”
The fact the monster knew her name chilled her deeply, but she managed to force her voice to hold strong. “I’m at a disadvantage. What’s your name, big fella?”
The creature turned and faced her full on. The heads swirled about, and Sam had difficulty trying to keep them all in sight. She settled on the two most prominent faces and sighted the pistol. It studied her for a long while. On the other side of the blast doors, she could hear the dead pressing greedily against the steel.
“My children long to taste your flesh.”
“Yeah, well, not if I have any say,” Sam said with a bluster she didn’t feel.
“Just lay down your arms.” The creature spread its wings regally. “I promise it won’t hurt…for long.”
“See, that’s the thing about us humans,” Sam said. “We don’t give up so easily.”
Her mind raced as she tried to come up with some sort of a plan. The gun would merely piss off the creature, and she had no other heavy weapons. Strangely, she was at peace just then. If this were the end for her, she’d go out swinging, at least.
“My name is Azazel.”
“Means jack to me, pal.” Sam shrugged.
Azazel turned and placed his palm against the door. The door gave way with a hiss of released air then swung inward. The sounds of the dead filled the corridor, and Sam fired as they poured through the opening. The shadows disintegrated as the bullets struck them, and the fallen dead quickly blocked the entryway.
The dead ceased their advance and stood still, so Sam ceased firing. The smell of cordite and blood was sharp in the confines of the corridor, and it bit into her lungs and eyes like acid.
Sam wiped her watery eyes. “What the hell’s going on? Why did they just stop?”
Azazel cried out with fury as the shadows controlling the dead puffed into clouds of debris, and the dead fell as one to the steel floor.
“No!” the creature shouted. He withered, and he didn’t seem as formidable as he’d just been a moment before. A change had overcome the creature, Sam realized, and she opened fire with whoops of triumph and hope.
Sam rushed the demon, shoving her pistol into one of its faces then firing. Azazel reared back and screamed in pain as that face disintegrated in a splash of gore. He swiped at Sam, and she leapt back as the claws slashed through the space she’d just occupied. The creature went to one knee and shuddered as Sam pumped the last of her bullets into its body. Azazel tried to rise, but collapsed once more. His body became transparent for a moment, and then solidified fleetingly. He roared and struggled to his feet, then turned and began flinging the dead to free up the entrance to the bunker, so that he could retreat.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Sam said, launching herself onto the demon’s back.
She dropped her pistol in the process, but refused to relinquish her grip. After fumbling for the K-bar sheathed to her ankle, she plunged the blade into Azazel’s trunk over and over. Black blood bathed her face and blinded her as it spurted from the jagged wounds. Azazel collapsed to the ground, and Sam cried out as her arms were crushed beneath his substantial weight. It felt as if her bones had been ground to shards of crushed glass. At this point, she was no longer in control of her limbs, and darkness threatened at the edge of her vision. The pain was excruciating. She’d broken her collarbone as a child, and that had been the worst pain she’d ever experienced, but this held no comparison.
Azazel gained his feet and Sam slid off him, collapsing to the ground. The demon turned and stood over her. He leered down, and blood dripped onto her face. She gagged and struggled to breathe. Azazel raised his heads and seemed to listen to something. The roar in her head drowned out her screams, but Sam concentrated on staying conscious as the blackness washed over her in waves of numbing agony.
Azazel turned his attention back to her. “You’ve proven to be a worthy adversary, but I have other things to attend to. If you’re not dead when I return, then I will save your death for last.” He ran a clawed hand down the side of her cheek and stuck the tear-soaked nail into his mouth. “Human suffering has such a succulent taste.”
With that, Azazel turned and lumbered down to the lower level.
* * *
Blount heard voices as he rushed down the stairs. He saw Archer lift his smoking pistol. The lifeless body of a woman lay in front of him.
“Drop it!” Blount yelled as he entered the room, his own gun pointed at Archer.
“You drop it!”
“Federal Agent! Drop your weapon and get away from the girl.”
“This is my daughter. I have no intention of leaving her side ever again.”
The two were at a standstill, neither lowering their weapon, both as determined as anyone on the planet, both as hard and stubborn as rabid animals. There was no way either was going to budge. Blount’s heart pounded, his pulsed raced. He sensed Archer’s did as well. He could nearly hear the other man’s heartbeat. Sweat soaked Blount’s face, and it dripped from Archer’s chin.
Here Blount was, a dedicated and loyal man, on a mission to save the world on one side, while facing a fiercely protective parent on the other. Archer’s pain had taken a physical toll on his face. On some level Blount felt it, identified with it. He knew what losing family was like. He’d experienced that loss over and over again, but the fact remained: the fate of the world was right here. Right at his fingertips. He had to make the father understand.
“I’m sorry about your daughter,” Blount said. “But you don’t understand what’s inside her, what she’s carrying. She’s going to end the world. You can’t move her.”
“Bullshit! We’re going home. Casey, it’s Daddy…come on baby, wake up. Daddy’s taking you home.”
“Stand down! I can’t let you do this. Stand down.”
“Never!”
“Back away or I will kill you. I swear I will kill you.”
Archer slowly shook his head while watching Blount. “What’s wrong with her? Why can’t I move her?”
Blount pointed his weapon in the air and held out his other hand in a placating gesture. “Listen, let’s talk about this for a second. You can’t move her from the altar because she’s been placed under a very powerful spell. I work for an organization called Black Rock. I’m here to help.”
“Black Rock?”
“You’ve heard of us?”
“Yeah. I came here with one of your men.” He looked around and shrugged. “Well, he was here.”
Sounds of a struggle caused both men to peer off into the darkness to their left. Two shots rang out, followed by something heavy collapsing to the stone floor.
“One coming out,” a voice called from the shadows.
“Palmer? That you?” Blount said.
“Blount,” Palmer said as he came into the pool of torchlight. “Good to see a friendly face.”
The two men shook hands and smiled at each other. Archer felt relief when Palmer greeted the newcomer, and he lowered his weapon.
Both men looked at Blount as he cocked his head and listened to something off to his right. They looked at each other in confusion as Blount began a conversation with the air around him. He nodded a few times and started to pace as he spoke.
“Who you talking to?” Palmer said.
Blount held up a silencing hand. “The girls. I’m talking to the twins.”
Palmer nodded as if that explained it, crossing his arms as he
watched Blount.
Archer continued to search the shadows for these “twins,” but he couldn’t see anyone. He looked closely at Blount’s ears, confused.
Palmer spoke in a hushed voice. “No he’s not wearing any earpiece. The twins are psychic. Two of our best operatives.”
Blount wandered over to where Casey lay and gently stroked her arm. The girl moaned at his touch, and Blount hissed then pulled back his hand swiftly. He pulled something from one of the Velcro pockets of his flight suit and knelt on the floor, then began drawing symbols and words on the ground surrounding the altar, in a widening circular pattern. Palmer looked on as the man worked feverishly.
Archer walked over to him. “What are you doing? Get away from her!” He attempted to stop Blount, but Palmer stopped him.
“It’s OK,” Palmer said. “He knows what he’s doing. I know this man. Trust him.”
“How can I? She’s the only thing I have left in this world. She’s the only reason I haven’t checked out of this God forsaken universe. Christ, what is that mumbo jumbo?”
“He’s trying to help. It’s gonna be OK. We’ll figure it out.” Palmer continued to hold Archer back.
Blount could hear the man shifting his weight from foot to foot. Archer breathed with a slight wheeze as he waited. A little while later, Blount stood and faced the two men.
Palmer asked, “Blount? Where’s your team?”
“They’re dead. They’re all dead. They died on the island.”
“I’m so sorry.” Palmer moved to place a comforting hand on his fellow agent’s shoulder, but Blount shrugged away.
Blount knelt once more and drew with the chalk. He stood back up to survey his work. Quickly he stalked over to a particular cluster of symbols, scratching out one set then adding a different collection of circles, squares, and hook-like drawings. He stood once more and took a deep breath.
“OK, this should work.”
If God Doesn't Show Page 16