The Killers Amongst Us: Chimera Dawn Chronicles (2 page)

It is recommended that the
read starts from the quotation page, followed by the CIA report.

1335 B.C. Amarna, the
capital of Egypt. Pharaoh Akhenaten’s bedchamber.

AKHENATEN
paced ungainly around his bedchamber,
listening to his high priest relay news of the rebel armies. His spindly form
gave him an awkwardness of gait, but his mind was as sharp as ever. He glanced
outside and looked down at his reinforcements marching toward the outer limits
of the city. Clouds of dust thrown up by their sandals danced in the spears of
sunlight entering the chamber. Akhenaten coughed and spluttered. He picked up a
chalice, then took a long slug of the warm wine, taking away the taste of the
battle that would surely follow.

“Amun approaches as we speak, your most holiness,” said his
high priest. “The southern cities are lost.”

Akhenaten placed his empty chalice on his bedside table, then
faced him. The priest averted his gaze, dropped to his knees, and kissed the
floor at Akhenaten's feet. Outwardly, Akhenaten held his composure, but inside
he fumed, the beast within seeking to emerge.

“Amun! Wasn't it enough that I spared his life when I sent
him to exile that he should seek to destroy me? I should have had him cut into
pieces and set his spirit in bitumen for all eternity as I did with the rest of
the gods. Is there news of terms?”

“No, your most holiness. We have word from our spies that
Amun is incensed that you have had his earthly consort Mut assassinated,
desecrated his temples, and erased his name and image from history. He is
displeased that you are a god ruling as a man, instead of providing guidance to
the royal lineage. Now he seeks only revenge.”

Akhenaten scoffed at Amun’s displeasure with a dismissive
wave of his hand.

“Mut was nothing more than a chimerical vulture, undeserving
of her status. What of my forward army?”

“They are in disarray, fleeing in all directions. Only your
temple guards remain loyal, but they are small in numbers by comparison. We
can’t guarantee their continued loyalty.”

Akhenaten crossed his arms, gripping at the flesh at his
waist. He looked down at the priest and his eyes narrowed. The sun’s rays
penetrating the bedchamber cast his shadow over the stone floor, exaggerating
his sinewy limbs and extended cranial.

“How long do I have?”

“You must make good your escape north to the waiting ship
without delay, for passage to the Isle of the Sicel’s.”

“And what of my traitor queen, Nefertiti?”

“She is rumored to be in hiding with your son Tutankhaten in
the south, protected by Amun's priests. She has already decreed his name be changed
to dishonor your holiness, and to favor the god Amun. Henceforth he is to be
known as Tutankhamun.”

“Tutankhamun! No doubt she seeks the favor of Amun so that
Tutankhaten will take my place as Pharaoh. I swear by Aten, his reign will be
short. Do we have a child ready for me to take my spirit for if I am ambushed,
and this deformity of mine is destroyed?” he said, then glanced down his body.
His spindly fingers stroked his chest.

“No, your holiness. The woman escaped. Our guards caught up
with her in time to see her cut out your child from her womb, then she
discarded the fetus in the Nile.”

“What of an adult conduit?”

“There are none. You were lucky to have taken over the body
of the Pharaoh Amenhotep, but your change in name and appearance in doing so
has angered many. Destroying his images throughout the land and replacing them
with your own had left many questioning, and they now align themselves with the
old gods and refuse to pay tribute.”

The chamber doors burst open. A palace guard dropped bodily
to the floor.

“Your most holiness, Amun’s army is destroying the outskirts
of the city as they advance. We can't hold them.”

“Gather my protection guards and have them meet me in the
temple yard by the fountain. Then instruct the guardians of my crypt to have my
burial chamber sealed, and to start rumors of my death.”

The guard rose to his feet, avoiding eye contact. He turned
and hurried out of the chamber.

“What of me, your most holiness?” the high priest asked.

For once, the priest dared to gaze directly into Akhenaten’s
eyes. He looked at the pitiful human whose loyalty he could not trust.

“Please stand. Come here and let me bless you.”

The high priest stepped over to him. Akhenaten embraced him
with one arm, then thrust his knife into his body. He held him close, the blade
embedded below the priest's rib cage. Akhenaten waited for the last gasp of
life’s spirit to escape the priest's lips, then hauled his body onto the bed.
He covered the corpse with a bed cover, turning his head to the sound of a
commotion outside his chamber. He sniffed the air, then stepped behind the
drapes hanging at the entrance to his balcony which overlooked the temple. The
chamber doors burst open. Through a gap in the curtain, Akhenaten watched his
enemies enter and gather around his bed, striking at the bed cloth with their
scimitar blades.

A large black dog skirted the shadowed walls of the chamber
toward the door. The dog turned his head, looking over at the robes of
Akhenaten poking out from under the hem of the curtain. The dismemberment
frenzy continued, Akhenaten’s assassins paying no attention to the animal as it
skulked through the doorway, then turned in the direction of the temple.

With Akhenaten making good his escape in the shadows of the
courtyard, his mind was consumed with thoughts of retribution.

In the name of Aten, I will have my vengeance and rid
this earth of mankind.

Friday,
6:45 a.m. July 11, 2008. Beverly Hills.

THE
girl could have been excused for not noticing she
was being watched; today was her eighteenth birthday. Her thoughts drifted,
immersed in the plans she had made for her party later that evening. Jogging
through the park gates on her daily route, she turned up the volume on her
iPod. Her head filled with the sounds of the Pussycat Dolls.

Life was candy. School still out. Her head swayed. The sun
bobbed on the horizon, dancing between the trees. A smile developed from within
at the group singing her favorite song, “When I Grow Up.”

An image floated through her mind. What would Dad say if he
knew she’d seen the car he had bought her and hidden in the garage? It was a
dead giveaway, with the hood tied with a pink ribbon, and ‘Happy Birthday Gail’
scribbled in felt tip on the windshield. She’d have to feign surprise for sure.
Her mind hovered elsewhere; on her mother’s promise to take her shopping for a
party dress on Rodeo Drive. Something low cut and tight fitting would do, to
snag Jimmy Reagan at her party. She thought that would make her day akin to
dipping a strawberry in the chocolate on the fondue fountain that the party
planners had supplied.

Gail stumbled. Her sneaker stubbed on a tree root. She fell
headlong to the ground, her face contorted.

“Damn.” She pulled out her earphones, and turned off her
iPod. Using the tree trunk for purchase, she dragged herself to her feet. Gail
hobbled to a park bench, then sat. She removed her sneaker, and rubbed her
toes. “Oh crap. Why today of all days?”

In her peripheral vision, a shadow darted between two cherry
trees. She looked around. There were no critter sounds, no birds singing.

“Is someone there?”

She stood, hopping on one foot, fixing a gaze toward the
cherry trees. A large dog appeared from behind some low shrub. Its head was
huge and out of proportion to its body, with paws as big as a mountain lion.
The animal sat on its haunches, staring at her, with its turquoise eyes
unblinking. Its black and white coat was bedraggled and matted with dried mud.
Her vision transfixed on the animal’s menacing gaze. She tried to figure out
its intentions, wondering if it would attack or if it would it lose interest
and walk away.

The dog panted, its tongue hanging loose to one side. Its
upper lip twitched, then it growled in a low rumble. Saliva drizzled from its
mouth. She clutched at her abdomen, knotted with cramps. White patches around
the crossbreed’s snout glistened with reddish-brown streaks. The animal’s
pointed ears rotated independently, scanning the area, before settling in her direction.
She looked over at the area behind the dog for an owner. The landscape was
empty, save for trees and shrubs. She looked left and right and then over her
shoulder at the lake. When she turned back, the animal had moved onto the path,
blocking her return. Her chest tightened. She clasped her crucifix on the gold
chain around her neck.

“Good, boy. Nice, doggy.”

The dog snarled in reply. Baring its teeth at one side, the
dog shuffled on its backside, with its body quivering as though some force was
holding it back.

She breathed rapidly, reaching for her waist pouch, unzipped
it and fumbled around. Her fingers trembled as she withdrew a can of Mace
spray. Juggling with sneaker and canister, the Mace slipped from her grasp. The
can dropped on the bench and tumbled between the wooden slats. Her jaw
slackened. She stared, wide eyed, as the canister rolled down the banking, and
into the lake. Goose bumps surged from her neck to her toes.

Gail took a deep breath. She edged her way on to the path,
sneaker in hand as her only defense. She glanced at an exit twenty yards away
and then back to the animal.

“Please, someone... anyone?”

She sidestepped slowly toward the gate. All the time, she
kept her eyes on the crossbreed. Ten yards to go and she froze. The animal rose
to all fours, and then prowled to within five yards of her, before sitting and
snarling once more. She looked toward the gate. A black van pulled up and
parked. She looked back at the animal and then to the exit. A young guy jumped
out of the van and lifted the hood to his vehicle as if checking the engine.
She snapped her vision back to the animal. It stood, walking stealthily,
inching toward her. As she moved along the path, the animal continued to follow
her, stopping and sitting whenever she stopped, herding her like a sheep.

She turned to the gate, limping the last two yards.

“Please help,” she shrieked, almost at the gate, her entire
being in spasm.

Dropping the hood to his van, the young guy rushed over. He
opened and then closed the gate as she passed through. She stood akimbo, then
bent over, her chest heaving, gasping for breath. She rose, snickered, looked
to the sky, then back into the park.

“Thank you, God, and thank—”

Her heart paused mid-beat. The dog leapt over the gate. Its
paws thudded on her chest. She screamed. Her vision exploded with flashes of
colors as her head connected with concrete. Hands grabbed her, lifting her. She
kicked out at fresh air, squealing. Arms snaked under her arms from behind,
with fingers locking on the nape of her neck. The scenery spun as she was
bundled toward the van. She planted her foot on the sill at the side entrance
to the van. A blow to her calf, and her foot dislodged. Projected forward, her
forehead struck the metal frame. Light headed, as if a veil shrouded her eyes,
her surroundings faded to black.

Gail opened her eyes. The blurred figure of a man stooped
and exited the van. She looked around. Her eyes widened. There were four other
girls trussed up in the same fashion as her and gagged with duct tape, all
whimpering. The dog jumped in through the side door. Its saliva dripped on her
legs. She retched at the foul odor drifting from the dog’s open mouth. Then
darkness descended as the sliding door to the van closed on the world outside.