by David Wood
He turned back to face the night and his smile melted. There, in the dim light that filtered through the clouds, stood a distinctive silhouette.
A lioness.
She sat there on her haunches, head slightly tilted, and gazed at him like a house cat waiting for a bowl of cream. A sudden warmth ran down the inside of his thigh and he took a step back. “Go!” he hissed. Yet the lioness remained still. “Get out of here,” he gasped, struggling to hold his rifle steady. “Go away.”
The longer he stood there, soaking in his own urine and his shame, the angrier he grew. This creature had made no move. Clearly, she posed no threat to him, but she deserved to die all the same.
He looked down the shaking barrel of his rifle, struggling to take aim.
He didn’t see the second lion until its jaws closed around his throat.
The only thing Douglas Schrader could do now was pray. From the moment the terrorists had surrounded them he’d been helpless to do anything else to stop them. He’d watched in impotent rage as the devils had taunted his family, tormented them. They’d poked and prodded the women with their knives, threatened in heavily accented English to cut off various body parts and make Schrader eat them. And when they weren’t making threats, they were casting lascivious grins at his daughter. Every time they did so, they turned to him and raised their eyebrows, as if to ask, “What are you going to do about it?”
Why was this happening to them? They were doing God’s work, yet God had forsaken them. A dark pool of despair welled up inside him as he assessed the situation for what seemed like the thousandth time. He was bound, unarmed, and hopelessly lost. He could only hope for a miracle.
The tent flap opened and one of the guards peered in. Schrader twisted, fighting at his bonds, but failed to break free. Beside him, Melanie let out a fearful whimper. The guard smiled, turned, and closed the tent.
Moments dragged past, and over the roaring in his ears, Schrader heard a voice. He heard it again. Then a surprised cry. And then nothing.
He waited.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before the tent opened again. This time, a different man peered inside.
“Where is Hassan?”
Schrader had no idea which one Hassan was, much less what had happened to him. He just sat there, glaring at his captor, held fast by his bonds and his utter helplessness.
“Never mind. We are almost ready for you.” The man held up a machete, the dim light glinting on its curved blade. His eyes locked with Schrader’s and then he drew a finger across his own throat. “Such is the fate of infidels,” he growled.
Schrader’s insides turned to water and his head began to spin. He wondered if the devils would record it for posterity, release it to the world, perhaps. At least he’d die a martyr—that would be something. Kill me but spare my family, he prayed. It’s my fault they’re here. Let them go.
Melanie had not missed the man’s threat. She began to sob loudly. Schrader tried to meet her eye, to give her a reassuring look, but he hadn’t the strength. It was all he could do to remain upright. He kept his focus on the open tent flap and the back of the machete-wielding man.
And then a tawny blur flashed across his field of vision and the man was gone.
Surprised cries rose outside and figures began running to and fro. He saw more flashes of lightning-fast movement and then heard a burst of gunfire. Somewhere close by, but out of his field of vision, he heard a cry of fear suddenly squelched in a gurgled gasp, and then, to his utter amazement, he watched as a lioness backed past the tent flap, dragging a limp man. Her jaws were clamped tightly just beneath the base of her victim’s skull.
He felt a moment of exultation at the grisly sight. Perhaps this was the miracle he had been praying for. And then a new thought struck him. If lions were attacking the camp, how long before they found their way into the tent?
As if in response to his thought, he heard a tearing sound. He turned to see a knife blade slicing through the back wall of the tent. What in the name of all that was holy? That was certainly no lion, and any of their captors would come in through the front door.
Alice had awakened, and she and Melanie scooted over to huddle against Schrader. As they watched, two hands parted the tent wall and a familiar head poked inside. It was the blond man from the lodge! What was his name?
“Shipman?” he rasped.
“Actually, it’s Maddock,” the blond man said, “but that’s not important right now.” He stepped inside the tent, deftly sliced their bonds, and then motioned for them to follow him. Holding hands with Alice and Melanie, Schrader stepped out into the cool night air. He couldn’t believe his good fortune, but he knew it wasn’t over yet. They still had to get away from the kidnappers…and the lions.
“Do you know about the lions?” Schrader whispered. “They’re attacking the camp.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ve got it under control. Just stay with me.”
Behind them, more gunfire split the night. Schrader stole a glance over his shoulder but could see little. He prayed no one was following them. The way before them began to rise, and he turned and focused his attention on what lay in front of him. Snatches of moonlight filtered through low-hanging storm clouds, shining down on the slope that lay before them.
And on the dark figure that rose up in their path, aiming a rifle in their direction.
Schrader had scarcely processed what he saw when Maddock raised a pistol and, without breaking a stride, fired off two shots. The first bullet took the figure in the chest, the second in the throat. By God, the man could shoot! Schrader had some skill with handguns but he wasn’t on Maddock’s level. Who was this strange fellow who’d saved them?
The shots seemed to have drawn the attention of the men in the camp, because sharp cries punctuated by gunshots rang out. A bullet buzzed past Schrader’s ear, and another pinged the ground at Alice’s feet.
“Veer left and keep running!” Maddock turned, hit the ground, and squeezed off a shot in the kidnapper’s direction.
Schrader did as he was told, half-dragging his wife and daughter toward the crest of the hill. They were so close. He heard Maddock fire off another round. The man wasn’t wasting his ammunition. That sort of efficiency spoke of a high level of professionalism.
The top of the hill loomed just a few yards ahead. “Just a few more steps, girls,” he huffed.
And then hot fire pierced his side. For a moment, he thought an insect had stung him, but then the fire grew into an inferno. He cried out, pressed his hand to his side, and pitched forward, hitting the ground face-first.
“Daddy!” Melanie dropped down by his side. With Alice’s help, she rolled him onto his back. He stared up at the two people he loved most in the world, and he had only two words for them. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Tears ran down Alice’s cheeks, but she managed a ghost of a smile. “You’ll be all right.”
Schrader shook his head. “Shouldn’t have brought you here.”
“Don’t talk, Daddy.” Melanie caressed his cheek. “Save your strength.”
Schrader knew time was short and suddenly there were so many things he wanted to say, so many things he hadn’t done. And then a single thought hit him hard. Something he hadn’t done.
Maddock appeared out of the darkness. “Let me take a look.” He knelt over Schrader and began inspecting his wound, but Schrader barely felt it. There was only one thing on his mind.
“Listen to me.”
“Just relax,” Maddock said.
“Listen to me!” Schrader poured all his remaining strength into the words. “What I told you about looking for the ark…I have a secret and I don’t want it to die with me.”
Chapter 40
Maddock's heart raced as the sign reading Lake Natron flashed past. "Almost there." They’d managed to get Schrader and his family to safety, and with the help of a local pride of lions, decimated the kidnappers. Those that survived had scattered. Ma
ddock hoped the lions, none of whom had suffered so much as a scratch in the encounter, would not become man-eaters. Considering they’d acted under the influence of a Noah Stone, he hoped they would return to their natural states afterward.
Now, armed with information from Schrader, they had driven the two hours to the Ngorongo Conservation Area. Considered one of the natural wonders of the world, this vast protected area stretched from Lake Natron in the northeast to Lake Enyasi in the south and Lake Manyara to the east. The area incorporated the Olduvai Gorge and the Ngorongoro Crater, the largest unbroken caldera in the world. The eight million-year-old crater had once been an active volcano. After going dormant, its collapsed cone formed a crater more than six hundred meters deep and covering an area of more than three hundred square kilometers. It was huge, and it was the place Schrader believed the ark lay.
"So tell me again what Schrader said." Dima held a legal pad in her lap and was mulling over various notes she had taken.
“He said quite a bit.” Schrader had been convinced he was going to die, and had confessed to Maddock that he had in his possession an ancient stone tablet he had stolen from a dig years before. Furthermore, if his translation was correct, it confirmed the location of the ark in the Arusha region. Fortunately for him, the bullet had passed through the ample layer of fat at his midsection. It was a painful wound, to be sure, but hardly fatal.
"First, he said that Mount Meru and Mount Meri were not the same place. Then he said, ‘Look to the Mountain of God. The truth lies there.'"
"All right." Dima made a mark on her notepad. "Ol Doinyo Lengai is the only mountain anywhere in the Arusha Region that is called by that name. So far, so good."
Called "Mountain of God" in the Maasai language, Ol Doinyo Lengai was an active volcano in the Gregory Rift, located south of Lake Natron within the Arusha Region of Tanzania. Part of the volcanic system of the East African Rift, it uniquely produced natrocarbonatite lava, a darker, cooler form of lava than what was commonly found in most volcanos. Cooler was, of course, a relative term, as the lava still reached temperatures of more than five hundred degrees.
"He also said, ‘Find the city of stone. The place of sacrifice.'"
"Which could refer to Engakura." Dima bit the tip of her pen and gazed at her paper. "It's a stone city with a complex irrigation system, but there's no tradition of stone construction in this part of Africa, which makes it unusual. So, it would be the logical place to look."
“It narrows things down a bit,” Maddock agreed. “If we have to search the entire area, we might never find it.”
“I don’t see anyone around,” Bones said, craning his neck to look out over the crater as they drew close to the rim.
“The northern area is the most remote,” Dima said. “Tourists usually stick to the places that are most easily accessed.”
Bones nodded. “Works for me. Fewer people to get in the way.”
Maddock had to agree. The last thing they needed was bystanders interfering, or perhaps being harmed, should things go sideways. “Let’s hope the rangers stick to the other parts of the crater.” Strictly speaking, one was not permitted to descend into the crater without a ranger guide, but they had ignored that rule for obvious reasons.
“If one shows up, we’ll deal with it,” Bones said. “We’ve come too far to let park rules stand in our way.”
Maddock slowed their four-wheel-drive as they began the steep descent. Down below, a vast expanse dotted with wildlife swept out to the horizon. It was a spectacular sight, one he’d have paid more attention to were he not focused on trying to avoid plummeting to his death.
“Do you think Schrader knew what he was talking about?” Bones asked. “He was frightened and losing blood.”
Maddock shrugged a shoulder in a gesture of noncommittal. “I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”
“According to this website,” Dima said, looking at her phone, “the crater is home to almost every species of African plains mammal. Even the endangered black rhino resides here. Giraffes might have lived here at one time too, but probably migrated away due to the lack of trees which provide their food. There are no impalas or topi, but that’s likely due to competition with wildebeests. There’s even a huge bird population and the continent’s densest group of predators. It definitely sounds like a place where someone might have restocked the continent’s animal population sometime long ago.”
“You’re missing a major upside to what you just read.” Bones held up his Noah Stone. “We don’t have anything to fear from a population of predators. I am the boss of them. But if the Trident catches up to us, those guys will be fair game.”
Maddock nodded. Perhaps, just this once, the Trident wouldn’t catch up with them.
It took Schrader a long time to remember where he was. Stress, fatigue, and pain medication had clouded his mind. The bed, the nightstand, and the view of the city through the window were all unfamiliar. What had happened? Where were Alice and Melanie? Why did he hurt?
It was the antiseptic smell that struck a chord. He was in a hospital. Someone had brought him here, but who?
Like watching a movie running backward, a series of murky images swam past his mind’s eye.
Blood and bandages.
A huge man with a ponytail carrying him like a baby into the emergency room. That couldn’t be real.
A breakneck ride in a stolen jeep. But whose jeep?
Lying on the ground, gazing up at a man with eyes the color of the sea. What was his name?
And then it all came back in a rush. He and the girls had been kidnaped and held captive by Muslim extremists. They had been rescued by two men whom he had met at the lodge. Maddock and Bonebrake were their names—their real names, that is. Schrader had been shot. Fearful that his secret, no, the secret he had stolen, would die with him, he had told Maddock everything.
He felt his cheeks warm at the memory of his confession. What would Maddock do with the information? Would Schrader get the chance to find the ark first, or would Maddock spill the secret, maybe even try to locate the ark himself?
The door to his room opened, and a tall, black man with a shaved head stepped inside. He wore a white coat, but nothing else about him suggested he was a doctor. The man moved with the lithe grace of a predator, and he stalked to Schrader’s bedside with grim purpose in his eyes. He didn’t consult any charts or monitors, but instead folded his powerful arms and stared down at Schrader.
After a few heart-pounding seconds of wondering who this man was and what he wanted, Schrader finally summoned the courage to speak.
“Can I help you?”
The man smiled. “Yes you can.” He had a slight accent, Jamaican, perhaps.
Schrader waited, but the man said no more. “What do you want?”
“I want to know about the men who brought you here.”
Schrader frowned. “Why? Are they in trouble?”
“No, but you and your family will be if you do not tell me what I want to know.”
A jolt of fright shocked Schrader to wakefulness. He tried to sit up but lacked the strength. “Where are my girls?”
“They are in another room in the hospital, being watched over by one of my associates. The quality of the information you give me will determine their fates, and yours.” The man pulled up a chair, sat down, folded his hands, and looked at Schrader with polite interest. “You may begin whenever you are ready. I suggest you make it soon.”
Once again, a feeling of helplessness overwhelmed Schrader, and he was reminded how weak he truly was. What use was the armor of God against powerful people who seemed bent on harming him and his family?
“Are you one of them?”
“The people who abducted you? No. My organization and its aims are not so pedestrian as all that. Please, time is short, and the sooner you help me, the sooner I can return your family to you and leave you in peace.” He laid a hand on Schrader’s arm. “You are not a threat to me, Mister Schrader, so I truly have
no interest in doing harm to you and yours.” His long fingers closed around Schrader’s wrist and he began to squeeze. “But I promise you, you will work with me, voluntarily or otherwise.”
Schrader had managed to summon a measure of resolve, but he was wise enough to see he had few, if any, options here. The story spilled out of him like an upended bag of marbles. He told the man all he knew about Maddock, Bonebrake, and the attractive young woman with whom they traveled. It wasn’t much. When he finished, he searched the man’s eyes, trying to read his thoughts.
“Thank you. That is helpful.”
Schrader relaxed and closed his eyes.
“Where did they go after they left you here?”
Schrader’s eyes snapped open. “I can’t say.”
“You can’t say, or you won’t say?”
While Schrader sat, tongue-tied, the man reached inside his coat, took out two syringes, and held them up. “Pancuronium bromide and potassium chloride—two of the chemicals used in lethal injection. The first causes complete paralysis, impairing even your ability to breathe. The second stops your heart. If I inject you with these you will be dead in a matter of minutes.”
Schrader found his voice and what remained of his pride. “Kill me, then. If I know something that’s of use to you, it will die with me.”
The man sighed and clicked his tongue. “I thought you might say that. You are, indeed, a man of strong will.”
Schrader hated that a small part of him enjoyed the praise.
“My patience and courtesy are almost at an end. Dane Maddock is looking for Noah’s Ark. I have it on good authority that, while you were being treated last night, you were mumbling something about the ark.” He stood and took out his cell phone. “My associate has in his possession similar syringes. Perhaps a video chat is in order? You can watch him administer these chemicals to your daughter.”