But only five of them.
A wide smile creased the president’s face. He’d won by a single pin. It was easily the greatest comeback of his bowling career.
“Nice game.” Hooper shook the president’s hand. “One more question. Any idea why someone stole the money?”
“Greed?” President Walters shrugged. “Why else?”
“We’re talking about billions of dollars. Maybe this goes beyond mere greed.” Hooper thought for a second. “Sometimes people do things they wouldn’t ordinarily do in order to serve a higher purpose.”
A sense of unease swept through the president. “Wait a second. You didn’t … you know … let me win? Did you?”
Hooper shot the president a wily grin as he walked out of the room. “Like I said … nice game, Wade.”
Chapter 13
I sensed the contrails flowing over me, around me. My gaze shot to the east. Through hazy vision, I saw dozens of people lying on the ground. Some were still. Others continued to struggle with increasingly lethargic movements.
Fighting off dizziness, I rose to my feet. I felt disoriented. My nose didn’t work. Fluid filled my lungs.
Shifting my gaze, I saw Lila. She was facedown in the soil. I stumbled toward her. Fell to my knees and gave her a good shake.
Her face sagged. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth.
I tried to speak, to shout her name. But the contrails had sucked all the oxygen right out of the air. Clamping my mouth shut, I gave her another shake, harder this time.
Her eyelids popped open. Her brown irises were shockingly dull. I knew death was knocking on her door.
“Don’t …” Lila gasped for air. “Don’t let her have it.”
She’s about to die. Yet, she’s still talking about the reliquary?
I tried to help her up. But she pushed me away with surprising force.
“Destroy it. Burn it. Break it. Grind it into pieces. Whatever it takes.” Lila gasped again. “Or they’ll die.”
“Who?” The word barely squeaked past my chapped lips. “Who will die?”
Her eyes focused for a single moment. “Everyone.”
Chapter 14
Everyone?
She couldn’t be serious. How could a single stone box hurt anyone, let alone everyone?
I checked for a pulse. Then I gave her another hard shake.
But she was dead.
I climbed to my feet. I felt tired, logy. My lungs felt like they were on fire. Awkwardly, I strode to the truck. At the same time, Graham stood up. He climbed into the still-running vehicle. Immediately, he fired up the fans and turned a dial. The windshield wipers went to work, clearing a thick layer of dirt from the glass.
I picked up Beverly and pushed her into the cab. But when I started to climb in after her, I caught sight of the reliquary. A cord had come loose, causing the sheets to shift a couple of inches. As a result, one corner of the stone box was now fully exposed to the elements. My instinct was to cover it, to protect it. Lila’s dying words gave me pause, but only for a moment.
I clambered onto the flatbed and grabbed the plastic sheets. But I couldn’t control my fingers and they slipped from my hands. I grabbed them again and stretched them over the exposed portion of stone. Then I used the loose cord to strap them into place.
Exhaustion hit me hard as I made my way across the flatbed. Carefully, I lowered myself to the ground. But my rubbery legs folded on me and I collapsed into the dirt.
I blinked a few times, watching millions of particles whirl around me. They stabbed at me, nicking my skin. I tried to stand up again, but my legs felt like spaghetti.
I clawed at the soil, trying to drag myself to the cab. But my strength was completely sapped. My mind lost focus. My eyelids snapped shut.
And then my brain slipped into blackness.
Chapter 15
Am I … are we … dead?
My eyes shot open. I gasped for air. Stale oxygen — not nearly enough of it — entered my lungs. I gasped again. And again. And yet again.
My gasps shortened and then vanished. My breathing normalized and I slumped against a hard seat. My lungs hurt like hell, but at least I could breathe.
One by one, my senses returned. I felt warm upholstery touching my damp skin. Smelled the elastic from my goggles. Saw the still-swirling dust through the heavily smudged windshield. Tasted engine exhaust in the air. Heard soft breathing.
I wiped sweat from my face. More sweat beaded up to replace it. The truck’s cab felt hot as fire.
Memories flooded my brain. I recalled the reliquary and the approaching militia. I relived the plane sailing overhead, the hail of gunfire, and the sound of a distant crash. I was reminded of the grayish contrails and how they felt against my skin. I remembered the nonexistent oxygen, the dizziness, and the exhaustion.
But most of all, I remembered Lila. I remembered her insane plan to blow up the reliquary. I recalled the terror in her eyes and her vague warning about how it might hurt people.
Too tired to move my head, I focused my energy reserves to my jaw. “Where …?” I licked my dry lips. “Where are we?”
“Three miles from the barn.” Beverly’s voice sounded strained.
The truck felt motionless. The engine was silent. “We’re parked?”
“For now.”
“Where’s Dutch?”
“Over here.” His voice, strong and vibrant, came from the opposite end of the cab.
“Anyone else make it?”
“I don’t know,” Graham said. “But a lot of people definitely died. If it weren’t for this truck, we’d probably be dead too.”
I didn’t know any of the militia members. And I knew they’d most likely have attacked us if they’d gotten the chance. But a small part of me still mourned them. “I spoke to Lila before she died,” I said after a moment. “She said the reliquary was dangerous.”
“How?” Beverly asked.
“She didn’t say. She just said to destroy it. Otherwise, people would die.” I exhaled. “Lots of people.”
“What do you want to do?” Graham asked.
Good question.
I’d been asking myself the same thing ever since Lila had revealed her true intentions. Something about what she’d said and how she’d said it continued to nag at me. But could I really destroy the reliquary?
I’d destroyed my fair share of artifacts in the past, all with good reason. But the reliquary was different. Hell, I couldn’t even be sure it was dangerous. I only had Lila’s statements to go on and it wasn’t like I could question her about them.
I only knew one thing for certain. The reliquary, like all artifacts, was irreplaceable. If studied properly, it could shed new light on ancient history. Did I really want to be the one to extinguish that light?
“We’re salvage experts,” I said at last. “We save stuff. That’s all. Let others sort out the details.”
“So, what do you want to do with the reliquary?”
“We’ll take it to Jerusalem. Seek out some of Lila’s old colleagues. Maybe they can help us find a place for it.” I took a few more breaths. Gradually, my strength returned. “By the way, thanks to whoever saved me.”
“That was me,” Graham said.
“You must have iron lungs.”
“They do the job.” He gave me a sharp look. “What the hell were you doing out there anyway?”
“Securing the reliquary. One of the cords—”
“You risked your life for that thing?” Beverly’s voice dripped with incredulity.
I glanced over my shoulder. The stone box, covered with sheets and cords, sat on the flatbed. “It’s my job.”