Quake (52 page)

Carter stepped down—

And almost fell.

The rocky floor seemed to sway, to shimmer. He felt it move like ball bearings beneath his boots and his M24 slammed up. His eyes narrowed and fixed on Gol as he strode across the subtly moving stone floor towards the segment of falling space.

The stench grew worse.

‘Welcome to our laboratory,’ came the deeply melodic voice of Gol. The man had halted beside a group of red stone cubes stacked beside the crevasse.

Carter moved closer, warily, glancing all around. He could sense Mongrel behind him, frantically searching for a source of danger. Carter glanced at the ten-metre-wide drop that separated the two men.

‘How are you, Gol?’

‘In truth,’ said the huge man, letting his hands fall to his sides, ‘I have felt better. I find it sad when those who show themselves to be enemies by their actions but not by their morals must die.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning that I no longer have a choice.’

‘You always have a choice,’ said Carter softly. His senses were screaming at him, and Kade - the blood-scream demon in his brain - was howling like a pig stuck on a spear.

‘You have come for the Avelach? To save Natasha?’

‘Yes,’ said Carter, staring hard into Gol’s unreadable eyes. The big killer had always unnerved Carter. Natasha had once claimed that he and Gol were the same - men, yes, but murderers too, fashioned from the same mould. Carter had reluctantly acknowledged then that she was correct. But now, staring into Gol’s eyes, he was not so sure. ‘How the fuck did you survive?’

‘They turned me into a Nex,’ said Gol softly. ‘They saved me, using the machine that you seek. The Avelach. But they deviated from the normal formula.’

‘You do not have copper eyes?’

‘What makes you think all Nex appear the same? It is down to the different chemicals in the inhibitors.’ Gol’s voice was deeply melancholy, an actor’s voice, a voice belonging on the stage, not in an ancient temple.

‘You have a question for me?’ said Carter.

Gol smiled then, seeming to relax a little. But Carter did not; the M24 remained trained on Gol and he felt the Browning creep into his left hand. He could almost hear the frantic searching of Mongrel behind and he allowed himself to flow with the situation, to calm his heart and brain and notice everything ...

The floor rolled gently - nauseatingly - beneath him.

The distant wailing and stench poured from the crevasse. Moving towards the edge and glancing down, Carter saw it disappear into an apparent infinity.

Beneath his boots, the carved stone shuddered softly, then started to move. There came a deep and thudding crunch of rock against rock and, glancing up, he saw the ornately carved bridge creep across the circular ceiling and towards the side of the circular cavern. Spanning the ten-metre gap that separated the two men, it would soon provide a means of linking them ...

Carter smiled, suddenly understanding.

‘How do you know that I have a question?’ asked Gol.

Carter tilted his head, eyes fixed. ‘We are talking, not fighting.’

‘The fighting will come later. You remember the QIII? The cubic processor developed by Quantell... Spiral_Q? By Feuchter and Durell? You remember it? The processor that you blasted into oblivion with your bullets and hatred?’

‘How could I ever forget?’

‘It could not see you,’ said Gol. ‘How was that so?’

‘I do not know. Where is the Avelach, Gol? Where is Jam?’

‘We both want something,’ said Gol, spreading his hands again. ‘We need to know why the processor could not see you. Could not predict you.’

‘I do not know.’

‘Who is Kade?’

Carter froze, his stare fixed on Gol. His mouth was suddenly dry. His eyes drilled like diamond bits into Gol’s face.

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Kade, the demon in your soul. Who is he, Carter?’

‘I think - think you are mistaken.’

Gol smiled then, and Carter’s attention shifted back to the distant doorway. Durell stood there, and now Jam heaved his bulk forward, swaying softly as his claws struck tiny sparks from the stone. Jam started to move forward, swaying as the uneven floor rolled beneath him. Carter’s gaze returned to Gol who now held a pistol, a heavy Sig P5, black and evil in his huge hand.

The floor continued to move, pushing Carter off balance. Kade was screaming in his head but still he did not open fire; there was something strange about Gol. The big man’s mouth opened and Carter shifted his aim to where Jam strode purposefully forward, heavy triangular head swaying gently from side to side—

‘Kill him,’ Jam snarled.

Gol’s stare met Carter’s.

‘You seek to save Natasha,’ Gol said softly. ‘When you find the Avelach, the codes and the secret to its control are inscribed on the silver box that protects it. They must never be separated.’

Gol smiled, then turned and opened fire on Jam with a sudden booming burst of bullets. Jam moved with incredible speed, taking one round in the torso as he bounded forward. He gave a deep gurgling growl and flipped suddenly to one side ... Gol was moving, sprinting forward, still firing as he leapt to meet the larger Nex—

The gun was smashed from Gol’s fist as a huge whirling blow sent the big man spinning from his feet. Jam reached down
into
himself, his claws coming up with dark blood. He glanced over at Carter, then reached towards Gol who kicked out, hatred in his eyes ...

Jam grasped Gol, lifting the grey-bearded man by his groin and throat. Gol’s boots lashed into Jam’s head, powerful blows that rocked the Nex, but Jam pulled Gol into a bear-hug. Their stares met, their faces almost touched and it was as if Carter was witnessing some bizarre act of love. Jam’s claws came around and slammed into Gol’s back. There was a tearing of cloth and flesh, followed swiftly by a heavy pattering of blood droplets.

Gol’s body kicked. Spasmed. Went limp ...

Then spewed blood across Jam’s armoured torso.

And Jam allowed the dead rag-doll body to fall, to lie limp and broken and torn apart on the stone in a crumpled heap. Jam’s head came up, glistening, and he stared across at Carter—

Who opened fire, M24 bullets shrieking across the crevasse as the bridge rolled around the walls towards the two combatants. Jam leapt back behind the bank of red stones; more noises of stone on stone were heard, and the bridge slid into itself until there was nothing but an incredible fall into the black pit keeping the two enemies apart.

Carter ceased firing, smoke rising to sting his nostrils.

Jam turned and sprinted for the opening in the following wall. Carter sent more bullets blasting after the fleeing Nex - but failed to hit him.

‘Carter, we’re trapped.’

Carter glanced around at Mongrel. ‘What do you mean, trapped?’

‘I leap out to give supporting fire, and this stone door slab thing come down behind me. It block us in.’

‘Shit.’

Carter moved forward and stared down into the crevasse. The floor was still moving beneath him and he could see Gol’s mangled corpse on the opposite side of the hall.

‘What’s fucking going on here?’ he thought.

He glanced up to where the ceiling was revolving and he suddenly realised that it was getting harder to stand. Glancing back, he saw the far end of the chamber slowly lifting, so that he stood on a slope leading down towards the spinning abyss—

‘Carter, you stop this thing ...’

‘The whole fucking chamber is suspended, it’s going to tip us into the pit…’

The angle of elevation gradually increased.

Gol’s corpse started to slide away, rasping against the scone, back towards the far distant end of the chamber, leaving a long smear of blood in its wake.

‘There no way out, Carter!’ Mongrel’s voice was filled with panic.

Carter’s boots started to scrabble against the rock as it tipped him towards the crevasse. The whining of distant machinery increased, and again crashes of stone on stone reverberated around the huge cavern.

‘Bloody Egyptians!’ howled Mongrel.

Carter felt himself slipping.

Ahead of him the looming chasm seemed to spin crazily closer, and he felt suddenly sick, filled with an insane nausea and vertigo.

How ironic!

How sweetly fucking ironic.

Not for Carter hot scything steel in his brain, nor a snapped and twisted spine from a crazed motorcycle crash, nor machine-gunned in half on some distant future battlefield. No, this was death by stone—

The old-fashioned way.

The abyss loomed closer—

Death grinned with a mask of dark, aged bone.

And Carter could do nothing to stop them falling …

T
he stone chamber spun, elevated on the scream of ancient gears and tried to spit Carter and Mongrel to their deaths. Boots scrabbling, guns clashing against the stone floor that lifted in front of him, out of the corner of one eye Carter saw something incredible—

Gol was moving. His head came up, beard stained with blood, and his stare fixed on Carter. He heaved himself along the floor, grunting with pain, hauling his torn and shattered body across the incline towards the precipice that threatened to swallow both Carter and Mongrel ...

Carter fought to stay on his feet. He felt himself slipping towards the revolving crevasse and glanced over at Gol, who was leaving a trail of blood against the intricately carved floor.

Gol had halted, ten feet from the cubes of red stone.

He was panting. Blood was dribbling thickly down his chin.

‘What that fucker doing?’

Carter smiled crazily, the whining noise filling his head and making his ears want to bleed. ‘I think he’s trying to save us.’

‘Why he do that?’

‘Mongrel,
stop asking fucking questions
’.’

Both Carter and Mongrel could not help themselves; they slid closer and closer towards the edge of the abyss. Gol fought his way upwards until he disappeared behind the red stones - and suddenly the noise died. A terrible eerie silence now filled the massive, tilted, disjointed chamber.

The world halted.

Carter glanced at Mongrel.

‘I think he stop it,’ said Mongrel.

‘I hope so.’

‘I hope so too. Not good way to die.’

‘What isn’t?’

‘Falling into a stinking pit. It remind old Mongrel of a story ...’

‘Not... fucking ...
now.’

Sounds of machinery wailed up from the crevasse once more and for a terrible heart-wrenching moment it seemed that the two men were going to be pitched to their deaths after all. Instead, the whole chamber started to right itself. Carter and Mongrel slumped backwards to the ground, and sat staring at the stones that hid the mangled body of Gol.

Finally, levelling out, the bridge slid out into an arc of interleaving stone panels over the ten-metre gap. Carter climbed to his feet, pulled a grumbling Mongrel up behind him and together they padded over and placed their booted feet warily on the bridge.

‘This not another trap?’ asked Mongrel.

‘Only one way to find out.’

Carter marched across the bridge and stared down at Gol. He lay on his back, staring up at Carter. His eyes were wide and bright.

‘Why are you still here?’ growled Gol, spitting through blood and froth. ‘They’ve gone to Austria. Every second you stand here you are letting them get away!’

‘Why did you do this for us?’ asked Carter softly, kneeling and taking Gol’s huge hand in his.

Gol met Carter’s gaze. ‘Maybe I’m just going fucking soft.’ he spat through blood-froth.

‘I thought you were the enemy?’

‘I have been blind, blinded by that fucking machine. But Carter, the Nex ... they are not just life unworthy of life ... they feel, they have emotions ... they can be
changed.’

‘I think you are different to the others,’ said Carter.

‘Find the Avelach. Use it to heal Natasha. Then you will see, then you will understand ... but first, up ahead, you will find Durell’s control centre for this place, his laboratory ... there are digital maps, explanations of the Foundation Stones and how LVA is used to control the earthquakes - but you must move quickly ...’

Carter stood. He exchanged glances with Mongrel as Gol started to cough, his whole body convulsing, blood pouring out of his mouth and nose. Carter lifted his Browning, and sighted it on Gol’s forehead. He met the man’s gaze.

‘Do it,’ gurgled Gol.

Carter ... froze.

‘Don’t fucking leave me for the
Nex.’

Carter closed his eyes, and a single echoing shot rang out across the carved stone chamber - ending Gol’s life.

The black helicopter lifted from the ground, rotors swirling vide arcs of sand and blasting the other choppers, the wire-mesh fence and the temple walls. Engines howling, the small aircraft lifted off vertically - high into the black Egyptian night - spun in a tight circle and headed off into the darkness towards Cairo.