The Aleppo Code (The Jerusalem Prophecies) (51 page)

Rodriguez twisted slightly from his waist so Rizzo could settle himself in a seated position on the lip of a small shelf at the entrance to the chamber at the mouth of the tunnel.

Lifting himself off the shelf sent a bolt of pain through Rizzo’s side. He gritted his teeth as he untied a rope secured to Joe’s harness. Walking deeper into the shaft with the lead rope in his hand, Rizzo took Joe’s hammer and looked at the clay wall.

“This is going to hurt like a bleeding booger.” He swung the hammer in a wide, sidearm arc, and drove one of the pitons into the clay wall. “Oh, my—” He dropped to his knees, the hammer still in his hand.

Now the lead rope stretched above the water, across to the other side of the shaft. Tom gave Annie the backpacks, lighter now that some of the equipment was in use. Hand-over-hand, Joe used the rope to cross the river once again, curled one arm around Annie’s waist, and helped lead her through the river as she held the packs aloft. On the other side, they passed them up to Rizzo one at a time, then Joe cupped his hands under Annie’s boot and hoisted her up onto the shelf to join Rizzo.

Then it was Tom’s turn. Bohannon hooked first his right, then his left boot over the suspended rope and, pulling with his left hand, shimmied to Rodriguez’s waiting arms on the far side.

Joe boosted Tom up to the opening. The three in the shaft then combined their remaining strength to help Joe scramble out of the water and up the side of the tunnel wall. When he cleared the lip, the tension on the rope suddenly slackened and sent them sprawling across the floor of this new shaft.

Tom’s eyes searched into the darkness that led deeper into the earth.

“C’mon,” he said as he pushed himself out of Annie’s grasp and rose to his feet. “C’mon. We’ve got to leave.”

Annie put a hand on Bohannon’s arm. “Tom, please. Rest a moment at least.”

“No. There’s no time. We have to go,” he said, taking a step forward. He turned quickly. “We’ve got to go. Now!”

Joe came up to his side, Rizzo in tow. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” said Tom. “But we’re late. Time’s running and we’ve been delayed … hindered. We’ve gotta move.”

Annie still had the final flashlight in her hand. Its beam remained strong. Tom held out his hand, took the flashlight, and turned into the tunnel, his pace rapid. He knew they would follow. But his mind wasn’t dwelling on those with him. It was on those waiting for him. And they were close.

This tunnel was man-made, not water-made. The sides showed clear signs of tools. They were square at the base to the floor. The ceiling was arched, for strength, but it was worked, not worn. Tom registered the difference in the back of his consciousness, but at the moment, it was superfluous information. He searched the space ahead of him as the shaft began a slight descent. And stopped. At a door.

He stopped so fast the others piled up behind him.

“A door?” Annie was at his side. “Is it …”

Tom moved close. There was no doorknob … no handle … nothing. The door was large, heavy, thick wood, metal braces extending from the hinges. He laid his hand upon the weathered wood—and the door swung open, silent, on well-oiled pinions. A vast darkness lay before them, as if Bohannon stood at the threshold of the center of the earth.

He felt Annie’s hand on his shoulder, her breathing on his ear. “Tom …”

This was it. He knew it. Somewhere out there, in that space … somewhere out there was the garden of God, the birthplace of the human race. And, now that he was here, he didn’t know if he really wanted to get any closer.

Tom stepped forward, through the doorway, and the sun rose.

The light was blinding after hours in the dark, only the beams of their flashlights for illumination. But this wasn’t beams. It was intense, immense, all-encompassing light. So bright, Tom could feel it sizzling across the surface of his skin. It warmed his soul.

The first shock of light passed, and Tom focused on what faced him. A huge wall of blue-glazed brick dominated the far side of a massive chamber, the sides of which were invisible. The wall ran in an arc for hundreds of yards on each side until it disappeared into a twilight that swallowed the flanks of the chamber. The wall extended up into the cavernous vault above—a strange sight even in such an incredible place. It appeared as if the wall had no end, no top. The blue brick rose, and rose, and simply blended into the vaulted roof, which also seemed to have no limit.

“Oh … my sweet Lord,” Annie breathed. “I believed … but I doubted, too.” She wrapped her arms around Tom’s left arm and pressed into his side.

“I’m bummed I don’t have an iPhone with me,” said Rizzo as he and Joe joined them. “Imagine this on YouTube. Going viral in a heartbeat.”

“Shut up, Sam,” said Joe. “Or watch out for lightning bolts from heaven.”

“Holy Zappo … shut my mouth!”

Lowering his eyes, Tom scanned the lower reaches of the wall itself. Spaced equally along the portion of the wall’s arc they could see were seven huge gates of highly polished bronze, bound by heavy timber frames and metal braces. But these were King Kong–sized gates that looked like they would need motors to move—or dozens of bodies pulling resolutely on thick ropes. The gates were intricately carved with what, from a distance, looked like a riot of stars and symbols. And each one looked unique.

“The garden is probably on the other side, through one of those gates,” whispered Joe, giving voice to the thoughts in Tom’s mind. “But which one?”

A vast plaza of blue-glazed brick spread before them, alive in the brilliant light, as if the sky had fallen to the floor and Tom stood with his feet in heaven. In the very center of the plaza he could see a huge circular symbol on the floor. This was it.
The starting point!

Bohannon stepped forward, moving toward the circular symbol. He crossed the blue plaza until he stood at its edge. It was a vast sun symbol, carved into the surface of the bricks, the carved surfaces covered with what looked like gold paint. Around the circumference of the sun, rays and tongues of fire marked the points of the compass.

“Tom, what does that symbol remind you of?” asked Annie.

He stepped back and took a longer look. It did seem familiar.

“Loughcrew!” Rizzo pointed a chubby finger at the gold symbol. “That was one of the symbols that our leprechaun McDonough found on the sarcophagus at Cairn T in Loughcrew. Jeremiah’s tomb, and now Jeremiah’s clue.”

“What now?” asked Joe. “Which gate?”

“Well, we finally know what the directions are for,” said Tom.

Suddenly, a shocking dawn came to Tom’s memory. He spun to face Rodriguez.

“Joe … the directions!”

“Safe,” he said. Joe reached under his shirt, and pulled out a gold chain. A gold cross hung from it, along with a sealed plastic bag pinned to the chain. He held the chain in front of him. “Used to hold the crucifix my mother gave me. Now it holds Deirdre’s cross.” He opened the bag and extracted the directions. “Now we put Abiathar to the test.”

Tom unfolded the paper to look at the symbols written on it—the directional clues deciphered from the leather sprockets inside the brass mezuzah—and stepped into the middle of the sun carving.

Without warning, the compass points began to spin around the circumference of the sun, slowly at first, growing to a blur until Tom felt its dizzying effects. Then the flashing compass points skidded to a halt. And changed before his eyes.

There were now only six compass points. And Tom finally knew how he would follow the directions. The compass points were marked with the same Demotic symbols etched into the mezuzah’s sprockets. He read what Roberta Smith believed was the first clue. Fourteen paces in the direction of that symbol … straight ahead. Now the directions made sense. Next was seven paces in the direction of the second symbol. But pacing off across the plaza, he would quickly lose track of the right direction.

“Joe, stand in the middle here, will you?”

Tom handed Joe the sheet of directions and stepped on the Demotic symbol at the circumference of the sun. He started pacing, Annie at his side, glued to his arm, Rizzo following close behind. Fourteen healthy steps and he stopped, turned, and faced Joe. “Which direction next?”

Rodriguez lifted his arm and was about to wave Bohannon to the left when the symbols at the circumference of the sun began to spin again. “Wait! They’re moving again.”

Standing still, Bohannon had a thought.
This is crazy. What am I doing here?

“Welcome, man of God.”

Annie’s arms closed like a vise, her breathing hard against his bicep. “Ooohhh …”

“What was that voice?” Rizzo whispered.

“There,” Joe blurted, waving his arm to the right. “North-northeast.”

But Tom wasn’t moving. Seven paces north-northeast would get him closer to the wall and its gates, but the voice. The voice reverberated through his mind, turned his blood to ice. All the hunches, all the ideas, all the excitement fell away under the power of that voice. Bohannon wasn’t about to move an inch.

“Onward, man of God. Follow your destiny.”

Tom looked down into Annie’s eyes. She nodded her head. He looked up at Joe.

He waved. “North-northeast.”

Through each of the directions, Bohannon moved closer to the wall. He was heading to the left, away from the middle gate. He finished his eleven paces and turned to get his final instructions from Rodriguez.