Dr. Lyon picked up the Emerald Tablet with his left hand and clasped it to his chest. “Unlike you, I have the courage of my convictions. And I will heal humankind by ending the violence and brutality. Once and for all. This is my gift to the planet, to reunite every living soul with the Light. Only then, can you and I and, indeed, every inhabitant of this battle-scarred planet be made whole.”
“I’d like to point out that good people do inhabit the planet.” Although damned difficult, he kept his tone neutral.
“And they shall inherit the Lost Heaven. I can think of no better reward. By initiating the harmonic sequence, I will liberate the suffering masses from this cesspool of evil.”
Edie derisively snorted. “Thank you, but I’d rather jump into the deep end of the cesspool than—”
“Surely the world is not so far gone that we need contemplate so drastic a solution,” Caedmon said over top of her. Well aware that Dr. Lyon’s gun was loaded, he didn’t think it wise to antagonize the man.
“Sadly, there’s no such thing as a utopian safe haven. No New Atlantis. No New Jerusalem. The dark fire burns too bright. Several miles from this very spot there’s a mass grave with the butchered remains of two hundred innocents . . . I rest my case.”
The professor’s startling declaration of intent cast a lunar shadow across the altar. In the pit of his tightening stomach, Caedmon feared that they were dealing with a mad man.
“So the solution is to kill everyone? That gives a whole new meaning to the word overkill.” Edie disgustedly shook her head.
“When you are free of this dark world, you will thank me.”
“For committing an act of radical nihilism? I think not,” Caedmon retorted, refusing to go an inch, let alone ride the full mile.
The older man smiled. “I prefer to think of it as sacred nihilism. Indeed, I could have done like everyone else and anesthetized the pain of existence with narcotics or alcohol or—” He stopped in midstream. Frowning, he stepped around the stone altar and peered down, directly into the gaping hole below.
Caedmon was able to see on Dr. Lyon’s face the exact moment that the recognition dawned.
As though the older man had been bitten by a snake and succumbed to paralysis the instant the poisonous venom entered his bloodstream, Merkür de Léon stood motionless. Totally and completely disoriented.
Then, just as Caedmon feared, he imploded.
Spinning on his heel, his hand violently shaking, he aimed the Smith & Wesson, first at Caedmon, then at Edie. Glaring.
Whether by accident or design, Dr. Lyon fired a shot, the bullet ricocheting off the wall near the entrance.
Bloody hell!
Afraid the next shot would hit its mark, Caedmon grabbed the lantern on the stone altar and flung it to the floor.
Plunging the sanctuary into primeval darkness.
CHAPTER 93
I can’t see anything!
Terrified, Edie shrieked.
The high-pitched sound reverberated off the stone walls. Endlessly echoing. Deafening even to her own ears. Oh God! She was totally disoriented. Pitch-black darkness, fear, and uncertainty all compressed into a painful cranial throb that felt like it would detonate at any moment.
A split second later, a second bullet discharged, whistling past her head, lodging in the pilaster behind her. She heard several pieces of stone, blasted free, pelt the ground.
“Hit the floor!” Caedmon ordered, his disembodied voice echoing off the sanctuary walls.
Gripped with terror, she reflexively dropped to the ground. On the other side of the sanctuary, she could hear Dr. Lyon’s erratic breathing. Or was that her erratic breathing? Edie held her breath, afraid Dr. Death would home in on her serrated exhalations.
Shifting into high gear, she crawled away from where Dr. Lyon had been standing.
At least, she hoped she was moving away from the monster. She couldn’t see a damned thing. Trying to make as little noise as possible, she winced every time the tip of her hiking boot scuffed the uneven stone surface.
“Three blind mice, see how they run,” Dr. Lyon taunted. Not sounding the least bit afraid. His courage no doubt bolstered by the fact that he had a loaded pistol clasped in his hands.
That or the crazy old coot could see in the dark.
Like she wasn’t scared enough, that thought sent a shiver of pure panic up her spine. Edie wondered how long they could play the avoidance game. Although the sanctuary was fairly large, with a diameter of some twenty-five feet, at some point, they were bound to bump into each other.
If she could just find Caedmon, maybe they could escape together before their would-be killer figured out they’d gone AWOL.
No sooner did that plan cross her mind than she brushed up against something warm. A body! She instinctively jerked, fell over, started to scurry away. A strong hand grabbed her ankle.
“It’s me, love.”
Caedmon! Thank God!
Relief instantly morphed into panic, another gunshot ringing out.
“You will both pay for the heinous crime that you committed,” Dr. Lyon announced.
Edie’s stomach painfully knotted. She frantically reached out, grabbing hold of the first thing that her hand came into contact with—Caedmon’s kneecap. Which one, she had no idea. “We have to turn the lantern back on!”
He leaned close to her, his nose bumping against her cheek. “I’m afraid that the lantern’s a lost cause,” he whispered in her ear.
“I have a second one in my duffel bag. It’s on the other side of the cave. All I have to do is crawl—”
“No!” he hissed, his warm breathing hitting her full in the face. “Any idea how many death traps are in the cave?”
“There are two of them—the one behind the altar and the one that I fell into earlier in the week.”
“Right. I want you to stay put while I go after the bastard.”
“Are you crazy? Not only are you handcuffed, but you have a broken hand.”
“Trust me, love, he will kill you.”
“Like you’re gonna get off with only a slap on the wrist. Not only do I have two good hands, but I’ve got a mean side kick in case you missed the earlier show. So I want you to stay—” Edie swept her arm to and fro across the stone floor.
Where before there had been a hard knee and a warm body, there was nothing but thin air.
Caedmon was gone!
CHAPTER 94
And we are all for the dark.
Damn the Bard. He had no blasted idea just how abysmally dark it could get.
Hampered by the handcuffs, Caedmon had to crawl, crab-like, on his knees and elbows, wrists held off the ground. He bit back the pain that ferociously pulsed from his mutilated hand. Surrounded by Stygian blackness, he navigated by sound. A difficult feat in a cave where each and every thud reverberated off the octagon stone walls in a distorted echo.
Knowing there was a second death trap, he painstakingly moved forward a few inches at a time. Every now and again, he stopped, listened, made a course adjustment. A blind, battered fool. But what choice did he have? If he and Edie called retreat and left the cave, the bastard would put a bullet in each of their backs.
While Dr. Lyon had a gun, he also had at least seventy winters on his head, putting the older man at a distinct disadvantage. Or so Caedmon hoped. His plan was to catch the bastard unawares.