Steiner heaved a sigh of despair. ‘We came so close.’
Jessica hung her head and covered her face and Steiner realised she was crying. He put his arm around her and stroked her head like a father would a child. Their mission had failed and there was nothing he or anyone else could say. At least we tried, he thought. And when it comes down to it – Steiner watched the president’s final moments – that’s all any of us can do, live or die, is try.
♦
John Henry staggered through a door and frantically pressed a button to call the elevator which would take him back down to the nuclear bunker. But as he waited, he saw a large figure striding towards him, reflected in the shiny doors.
‘Run, John Henry,’ Bic said through the speaker system. ‘RUN!’
John turned, but it was too late. The tip of a blade touched his neck.
Ophion Nexus stared into his eyes and said, ‘Time to die, Mr President.’
Chapter Two Hundred Twenty-Eight
Mongolian plateau, Central Asia.
A trickle of sand fell from above, each tiny grain adding to a growing mound which collected on the body of an unmoving figure, lying buried in the dark. The grains continued to fall, tickling the skin beneath and eliciting a groan from the victim it tormented with its monotonous and tantalising caress.
Sarah Morgan struggled to rise and wiped her hand over her face, dislodging the sand-like dust, which continued its steady stream from above. She groaned again and opened her eyes, and for a moment wondered if she were blind. And then she remembered the blast and Konstantin’s knight who’d blown himself to kingdom come. There was no light inside, or from without, the pitch-black all consuming.
Did anyone else survive the explosion? she thought, not wanting to call out in case Konstantin, or one of his men, were the ones to hear.
She sniffed the air and tasted the sickly scent of burnt flesh. She suddenly had a horrible thought and ran her hands over her arms, legs and face. At first she was relieved she was all in one piece, and then that the smell wasn’t her; at least, it didn’t feel like her skin was damaged. She sniffed again and realised other smells mixed with the first – the smell of rock, dirt and stale air. Then she remembered where she was, the Anakim pyramid. Trapped inside an Anakim pyramid, she told herself. She felt around in the dark and touched only smooth-surfaced rocks, which must have fallen from the ceiling above. She went to stand up, but hit her head. The collapse was worse than she’d feared.
What if I’m trapped? Really trapped? The idea made her panic. She shuffled round, feeling, searching for a gap in the fallen masonry, and then she sensed it. A current of air ruffled her hair. She felt higher, and found a jagged ledge and an opening to freedom. Or a freedom beyond her current confinement, at least. For what lay beyond? A black tomb sealed for a million years? She’d be lucky to get ten feet before breaking her neck.
The rumble of stone shifting overhead increased her urgency, and she hauled herself into the gap above and out onto the top of the fallen stone block.
You’re lucky, she told herself as she felt around in the dark. A few feet either way and you’d have been crushed, or worse, pinned under a thousand ton of rock without hope of rescue.
Pushing such fears aside, she found the lip of the block and swung her legs round, then lowered herself to the ground of the decimated antechamber.
She shivered. It was cold: almost too cold.
She felt for the wall she knew must be near. She’d been flung against it in the bomb blast, so it couldn’t be far. Her fingers touched something wet and she jerked back in shock. It’s just the wall, she told herself. She reached out again. The surface was slick with water and she heard the faint splash of liquid beneath her feet as she moved.
And then she saw it: a faint light, illuminating the way ahead.
In any other circumstances the pale glow wouldn’t have been enough to see by, but considering there was no other light at all, it provided just enough to highlight the outline of the floor and nearest wall.
Sarah walked forward, using the surface on her right to guide her way, but just as she thought she was making good progress her foot met no resistance and she staggered into a hole.
‘Not a hole,’ she said, as her eyes grew more accustomed to the light. ‘A staircase.’
And no ordinary staircase, but one that resembled those she’d seen in Sanctuary: massive steps carved from stone, and that’s when she realised where the light was coming from: beyond the steps, down in the below.
A sound from behind made her turn and she thought about going back to help Avery and Ruben. She knew the latter hated her now, but if there was a chance he needed her help she couldn’t leave him. She turned to go back, but before she’d gone two steps she heard the guttural speech of what sounded like Russian.
Her heart sank. Konstantin, she thought. She’d recognise that voice until the day she died. It wasn’t often that someone tried to kill you, one-to-one, up close and personal. She touched her chest and realised Ruben and Avery would have to fend for themselves, if they still lived.
A flashlight turned on and the shadows of two men were projected onto a wall from behind the rock fall that had almost claimed her life. She had to go, and she had to go now.
Sarah set off down the oversized steps, which descended into the dark. What awaited her, she didn’t know, but whatever it was, it was better than what followed behind; at least, that’s what she hoped, as there was nowhere else to go.
Chapter Two Hundred Twenty-Nine
‘I hear voices,’ Ruben said, shining his flashlight back the way they’d come.
Avery looked in the direction where the ceiling of the pyramid’s antechamber had collapsed, blocking their way forward. His expression changed to a look of concentration. ‘It’s Russian.’
‘Konstantin,’ Zinetti said, nursing his injured arm. ‘He lives.’
‘We’re all lucky to be alive.’ Major Lanter checked his sidearm’s ammo. He then motioned to the five other remaining Swiss guards, whose helmet lights blazed bright, to scout the way ahead. ‘The rest of my unit weren’t so fortunate.’
‘We should keep searching for Sarah,’ Avery said. ‘She’s too important.’
‘If she lives,’ Ruben said, ‘she’ll have to fend for herself until we can find a way around.’
‘If there’s a way around,’ Zinetti said.
A groan from nearby made Major Lanter point his weapon in its direction. The gun’s flashlight revealed a Knight of the Apocalypse trapped beneath a massive block of stone, his legs crushed into a bloody mess.
The leader of the Swiss Guard drew a long, serrated knife, but Zinetti stayed his hand.
‘Let Brother Ruben prove his loyalty,’ said the Italian cardinal.
Ruben glared at Zinetti. ‘I didn’t know it was in question.’
‘You broke a vow you made before God,’ Zinetti said. ‘Your entire existence is in question.’
Ruben looked at Avery, who refrained from comment, and Major Lanter held out the knife.
‘Thou shalt not murder,’ Ruben said, refusing to take the blade. ‘Is a commandment from God.’
‘This thing is not a man.’ Zinetti bent down and grasped the injured knight’s hair. He lifted up the man’s head. ‘And he didn’t think twice when he took the lives of innocents, or when he killed the Major’s men.’
The knight groaned and looked up at Ruben with bleary eyes.
‘An eye for an eye,’ Lanter said.
Zinetti took the knife from Lanter, grasped Ruben’s hand and slapped the handle into his open palm.
‘You forget the Redeemer’s words,’ Ruben said, looking at the knife. ‘You have heard that it hath been said: An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. But I say to you not to resist evil: but if one strike thee on thy right cheek, turn to him also the other ...’
‘Yes, yes,’ Zinetti said, waving away the argument. ‘And if a man will contend with thee in judgment, and take away thy coat, let g
o thy cloak also unto him. And whosoever will force thee one mile, go with him other two.’ Zinetti pointed at the knight. ‘This is not a matter of theological discussion. This man is a murderer. He broke the law of God, and God’s law demands recompense.’
‘The dogma of man and Church leads us away from Christ’s path,’ Ruben said.
Zinetti laughed. ‘Is that not a sword you carry concealed on your back, monk? Are you not trained in the ways of war?’ The cardinal motioned to Lanter, who turned his gun on Ruben.
‘You speak of the Redeemer. You blaspheme against Mother Church. You break your vow before God.’ Zinetti looked at Avery. ‘I think we have a convert to Konstantin’s cause within our ranks. What do you think, Cantrell?’
Avery looked at Ruben and said, ‘You best do as he says.’
Ruben looked at Avery in concern and then down at the knife in his hand, and finally to the injured man on the ground.
Lanter shoved him in the back with the tip of his pistol. Ruben grasped the knife, then bent down to rest the blade’s point at the man’s chest.
‘I do not fear death, brother,’ the knight said, grasping his arm.
‘Do it,’ Lanter said, cocking his weapon.
Ruben looked at Avery, who said, ‘This man is trying to divide the Church in order to destroy it. He’s a killer of innocents and if we help him, he’ll only try to murder us in our sleep.’
Ruben gave a solemn nod and his expression turned grim. He closed his eyes and said a prayer, then rammed the knife into the man’s chest, piercing his heart.
The knight shuddered and went limp.
Ruben stood up and looked at Zinetti, his eyes seething with rage. ‘Satisfied?’
‘For now,’ Zinetti said, turning to follow the Swiss guards into the darkness. ‘For now.’
Major Lanter followed Zinetti, then stopped out of earshot of Avery and Ruben, while still providing them with light to see by.
Avery came to stand by Ruben’s side and placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘The righteous path is never an easy path.’
‘Shouldn’t we try to save every soul?’ Ruben said, staring at the dead knight. ‘Even one such as he?’
‘Some souls are beyond saving,’ Avery said. The Irish cardinal remained silent for a moment, before saying, ‘One thing is for certain – as much as it pains me to say it – Cardinal Zinetti was right about Sarah.’
Ruben gave him a look. ‘What do you mean?’
‘She had the power to activate Anakim technology without the pendant, which means she would have been able to open the frieze.’
‘And kill all those people,’ Ruben said, his heart sinking. ‘But there is still doubt, is there not?’
Avery shook his head. ‘I didn’t want to show you this until I was one hundred per cent certain Sarah had the ability to open the frieze.’ He handed Ruben a tablet device. ‘We found head-cameras on some of the victims from the tunnels behind the frieze. It took some time to go through all the hours of video, but we recently came across something which showed this.’
Ruben looked at the screen, which displayed footage taken by someone from the previous expedition as they traversed the tunnels. Everything was fine at first, then people started running and screaming. The beams from flashlights careered in all directions, and then the owner of the head-cam skidded to a halt.
The video showed a figure crouched down over a body and the sounds of tearing flesh and breaking bones echoed through the underground passage.
For some reason the expedition member didn’t run, perhaps they were too scared, frozen in place with their flashlight illuminating the scene before them.
A chunk of bloody intestines slithered onto the ground next to the body as the person devouring it continued their work. And then, very slowly, the figure turned their head, as if realising they were being watched.
The figure stood up and turned round, their face and torso cast in deep shadow as the flashlight focused on the chunks of flesh grasped in each hand, and the thick oozing blood, which dripped to the ground.
With a shaky hand, the expedition member shone the beam of their flashlight higher to reveal a mask of bloody horror. Pieces of flesh hung from a blood-smeared mouth and dark haunted eyes fixed on the camera.
Ruben couldn’t believe what he was seeing, refused to believe it.
Sarah Morgan dropped the human meat and her lips curled back in a bestial snarl.
The camera shook as the operator remained immobilised by terror and then Sarah sprang forward. The camera angle fell to the floor and inhuman screams echoed into the tunnels as the watcher became the victim, the flashlight rolling across the ground to reveal Sarah as she ripped out the woman’s stomach with her bare hands.
Ruben switched it off, unable to watch any more. He felt beyond sick; it was all he could do to keep from retching up the contents of his last meal. The woman he’d come to care for, the woman he’d slept with and broken his vows for, wasn’t just a killer, but a cannibal – and worse, possessed by a demon beyond imagining. ‘She’s not a woman at all,’ Ruben said, horrified. ‘She’s not even human.’
Avery sighed and removed the device from Ruben’s hands. ‘The Sarah you thought you knew may never have existed, and if she did, soon only the monster will remain.’
Chapter Two Hundred Thirty
‘You encouraged me to sleep with her!’ Ruben said.
‘Zinetti did,’ Avery said. ‘He was desperate to find the gate. I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see what she was really capable of, as I knew it would be devastating for you, but the time has come for the truth to be known, however hard that may be.’
Ruben hung his head. ‘Maybe it would have been better if she hadn’t survived Konstantin’s attack. If she knew what she’d become—’
‘Did you think it luck Konstantin didn’t succeed in killing her?’ Avery said, giving him a pointed look.
‘You think she was lying to us?’
‘Have you known Konstantin to show anyone mercy? If she can’t remember half of what she does, it’s likely she struck a bargain with them and doesn’t even know it.’
Ruben looked sceptical. ‘What about the wound?’
‘A pretence. Konstantin knew she was trying to stop us, he wanted her to live to ensure we failed.’
‘But without her, we would have done.’
‘It’s a paradox,’ Avery said, ‘it’s true. She’s the key to everything, to our success, to escaping this tomb and maybe, if we find it – God willing – to activating Heaven’s Gate, but ultimately she’s also the key to our failure and there may come a time when she attempts to reverse what she’s given.’
‘Reverse?’
Avery studied him. ‘Do you think whatever controls her cares for us? You saw the shade that haunts her with your own eyes.’
‘It’s not of this world.’
‘Ruben, my son,’ Avery said, touching his arm. ‘I like Sarah – I do – but there will come a time when you will need to sacrifice your feelings for her for the sake of the Church, for the sake of God, indeed, for the sake of our whole world.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘What controls her is murderous and evil, twisted and cruel. She – it – has manipulated and controlled us without its host even knowing. As much as I’ve tried to resist what’s been staring us in the face, she’s killed, she’s lied, she’s deceived, she’s lured you into breaking your vows and eventually the drugs we’ve provided will not be able to stop what’s within her from fully taking control, and when that happens, she will be Sarah no longer. Deep down she knows this,’ Avery continued, ‘but she cannot admit it, not even to herself. And it’s this that will prevent her from being unable to reason, or prevent the inevitable from coming to pass.’
‘What can we do?’
‘I have prayed for her soul daily, but I see no other way. If she tries to stop us saving the surface, Sarah must be stopped by any means possible.’ Avery looked distraught. ‘You are a protector of
the faith, and if it’s as I fear, you may need to do that which I have always tried to shield you from. There will be a choice, to follow God or evil.’ Avery held Ruben’s gaze. ‘Will you let something masquerading as the woman you care for destroy everything she stood for, everything you stand for and everything our faith stands for?’
Ruben shook his head.
Avery put his hand on Ruben’s chest. ‘And you’ll stop her when the time comes? Stop her from condemning billions to death and saving her soul in the process, even if saving her means—’ Avery paused for a moment as he struggled to contain his emotions. ‘—even if that means ending her life?’
Ruben stared at him.
‘It’s what the Sarah we knew would have wanted,’ Avery said, looking sad. ‘Don’t you think?’
Ruben looked into the darkness, his mood bleak as he recalled the screams of Sarah’s victims as they’d died. ‘Yes,’ he said, his expression hardening into resolve. ‘I think it is.’
Chapter Two Hundred Thirty-One
Sarah crept down the Anakim staircase as she moved further into the pyramid’s depths. She glanced back to see Konstantin’s flashlight had dimmed. He remained out of sight, along with however many more of his knights had survived the explosion and subsequent collapse. So far, she was undiscovered, but she knew with certainty that luck couldn’t last.
The glow she’d previously glimpsed ahead of her had stabilised, the steady illumination a faint whisper of light in an otherwise gloomy ice-cold expanse. She took another step and stifled a scream. Freezing water rippled in the darkness. She paused and then decided it was better to drown than to die by the point of a knight’s sword. She re-entered the water, her foot dropping down on to the next giant-sized step. A second step took the water up to her waist and she gasped in pain as the icy liquid attacked her skin like a million needles.
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