Part 26 (1/2)

”I'm going with Matt,” Will said, his tone daring the others to tell him no. ”We don't know what'll happen in there, and he needs a wielder at his back.”

”I agree,” Ramirez said. He drew his knife slowly, almost tenderly, from its sheath. The blade rasped against the leather and he smiled. ”But if it's all the same to you, I'm staying out here. Just in case.”

”Me, too,” Julie said. ”I'm more use on offense.”

Uncle Mike pinched the bridge of his nose, as if his choices caused him pain. ”Okay, then here's the plan. Archer and Cruessan, along with me, Nguyen and Johnson, are going into the caves. That's it. Everyone else stays out here, armed to the teeth. Any objections?”

”I'd prefer to come with you to the caves,” Jorge said.

”We might need a third wielder on guard outside,” Uncle Mike said. ”But I'll let Archer decide.”

Everyone turned to me. Of course he would make this my decision; I was the guy who had to touch the pentagrams. If I was honest, the idea of burning my hands, maybe for nothing, paled in comparison to the minute chance I'd find a lead on Mamie. I'd jump into an acid bath if it meant she'd show up at home without a scratch on her.

Which made my choice easier.

I looked at each wielder in turn. ”Jorge comes with us. Captain Tannen and Major Ramirez can take command while we're gone. If it gets crazy out here, send Jorge and Cruessan back to help.”

Uncle Mike nodded, like he approved my decision, even though he did shoot a concerned glance at my aunt. ”Keep alert.”

”Always,” Aunt Julie said.

Uncle Mike led me, Jorge and Will into the gra.s.sy path on the way to the caves. Johnson and Nguyen watched our backs. The gra.s.s made a shush, shush, shush noise as we walked through it. That's when I noticed something odd. The last time we'd been here, the gra.s.s had caught on my clothes, my skin, my bootlaces. It had practically avoided touching Zenka, though, like it wanted to stay out of her way.

Today, not a single gra.s.s head brushed me as I walked by.

Uneasy, I checked out the others; all of them were struggling except Jorge. Besides me, he was the only one the gra.s.s bent away from.

What did this mean? Had I been imbued with some sort of shamanic power? Or did the gra.s.s simply know where I was headed and didn't want any part of it?

I shuddered. Here, in the Kalahari, it was late spring, and the air was warm, but I was cold all over, with pinp.r.i.c.ks of chill dancing across my skin. The feeling intensified as we approached the mouth of the cave.

To look at it, the cave was a shallow opening in an outcropping of rock. It wasn't wide, or deep, or even that dark. A pall hung over it, though, something foul. I wouldn't be able to swear that feeling was real or describe it to the others, but it was there. I turned to Jorge and his entire body was tense, like a man ready to spring at any second. While the others seemed jumpy, he was on high-alert. That's how I knew for sure I wasn't imaging things.

We filed inside. There was a dusty, unused smell in the air as we pa.s.sed ancient cave drawings of hunting parties and animals. They were faded due to age and exposure, unlike the paintings we were here to see.

Equally ancient, these paintings looked new. The enamel filling in the white pentagram, the one depicting the wielders in various stances, was as fresh as if it had just been applied. The same was true of the black, upside-down pentagram which showed the prime monsters we'd killed. At the bottom, the Shadow Man stood smeared and holding a curved-bladed spear, the enamel s.h.i.+ning slick and oily in the light of Captain Johnson's flashlight.

”Tink?” I murmured. ”Are you sure about this?”

No, but we have to try. Don't lay away the knife, though. Keep it on your person, where it belongs. You'll need its power, and mine, I fear.

”Way to boost my confidence.” I let out a long breath and unfastened my camo jacket. The chills had left, and now I was hot. My T-s.h.i.+rt felt too tight, constricting, but I wasn't going to strip down s.h.i.+rtless in front of these guys. Especially when I had no idea what would happen once I touched those pentagrams.

”Ready?” Uncle Mike asked softly. Concern ran deep in the lines of his forehead and around his eyes. He wasn't going to stop me, though.

”Yes.”

I shook out my arms and spread my feet apart so I was standing straight and st.u.r.dy. Anything for Mamie. Anything at all.

I help up my hands just as rifle shots erupted outside, followed by Ramirez barking orders and the unmistakable boom of the Abrams' main gun being fired. Uncle Mike turned toward the cave's entrance, Jorge on his heels.

The cave wall snapped shut, blocking us from outside.

If we'd had any doubts this was the right place, they were gone now. Mike still went to the wall and pounded his fists against them. His hands came away b.l.o.o.d.y. He shot me a wild look.

”Like Afghanistan?” I asked. There, the cave wall had closed between me and my team, leaving me stranded on the wrong side.

”Worse,” he said, showing me his hands. The skin was scored with cuts. ”Unless you want to try to saw your way out with your knife.”

”Gentlemen? Has anyone noticed the light?” Jorge asked.

He was right-despite being completely sealed off from the outside, it wasn't dark, but no one had clicked on a flashlight. I turned at the drawings; the white pentagram was glowing. My hands trembled as I reached out for the cave wall, because nothing would change my mind now-Mamie had been here.

In one swift motion, I pressed my palms against the pentagrams.

Chapter Thirty-Two.

The stone heated up beneath my hands, blazing hot. Out of reflex, I tried to let go and found I couldn't. My heart beat like a frightened animal's, fast and so hard, I swore it wanted to break free of my ribs to flee my body.

The heat spread up my arms, into my torso and down into my legs. I let out a sharp cry of pain and each beat of my pulse hurt.

Right as I reached the edge of my endurance, the wall released me and I was flung backward, into the team, where I crashed to the floor. Funny, even with all those people there to catch me, when I hit the ground, I hit my head too. Really hard. It made a sound like an overripe cantaloupe falling off a supermarket bin.

And how did I know that? I saw it happen. Because the body on the floor wasn't me-I was floating back toward the pentagrams. I tried to yell, to tell the others where I was, but nothing came out. Mike was on his knees by my side, Will next to him. Johnson was at the cave wall, yelling for help, but the m.u.f.fled sounds of battle were all that came through from the other side.

A searing pain that was everywhere at once embedded in my atoms and shocked my system. It felt like I was lengthening. The stretch and pull continued until I thought I'd snap through. Then the cave disappeared. The world went blind dark and utterly silent.

My nightmare, for real.

The world tilted and I hit ground with a thud. Slowly, the tiniest bit of light returned and I was lying on an ebony floor, sprawled out like I'd been dropped. My body was with me in this place. Wherever here was.

Strangely, I could still hear the team.

”He's convulsing. Pulse is thready.”

”Matt, wake up!”

”His heart stopped!”

”We need a medic,” Mike snapped.

”How?” Will said. ”There's no way in or out, sir!”

”CPR,” Jorge said, sounding calmer than the others. ”Move aside.”

I didn't have long, it sounded like. Whatever part of me-Soul? Consciousness?-had been removed, it didn't seem like my body appreciated being abandoned.