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Authors: Tom Pollack

Tags: #covenant, #novel, #christian, #biblical, #egypt, #archeology, #Adventure, #ark

Wayward Son (55 page)

BOOK: Wayward Son
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Their answer came instead from Rina in the distance.
“Helvia!”

CHAPTER 75

Herculaneum, AD 79

 

 

 

AS AUGUST DREW TO a close, Naples and all the towns around the bay were in an especially jovial mood. Holiday crowds streamed in to Herculaneum and Pompeii to celebrate the annual feast day of Vulcan, the Roman god of fire, and also to commemorate the birthday of the emperor Augustus, who had been deified after his death sixty-five years before. Drusus and Tullia had invited Cain and Rina to a special holiday luncheon.

The two couples sat on the marble terrace of Drusus’s villa overlooking the sea as servants discreetly placed glasses of wine and platters of fruits and cheese on the hardwood table. The conversation turned to the earth tremors that had become steadily more frequent and powerful in the region over the past four days.

“These little shakes are nothing compared to the earthquake seventeen years ago. You remember
that
one, don’t you, Marcus?” asked Drusus.

“Indeed, yes,” Cain nodded. “I hear that the damage over in Pompeii is still being repaired.”

Just then, as if the elements had taken umbrage at their chat, a sharp thunderclap exploded from a cloudless blue sky. The roaring blast was unlike anything they had ever heard—except for Cain. The couples leaped to their feet and looked in the direction of Mount Vesuvius in time to see the summit of the volcano exploding high into the air.

“Vulcan must desire to leave his underground forge and join us personally for this feast!” joked Drusus. But Cain, who had witnessed the volcano’s devastating power long ago, knew better.

“This is no joke, Drusus.”

“You really think there is cause for alarm, Marcus?” asked Tullia. “We just started lunch.”

“Tullia, we must evacuate Herculaneum as soon as we can,” Cain answered decisively. “And that means on the water. By land will be too dangerous.” Turning to Drusus, he added in deadly earnest, “Ready your boats in the harbor without delay, and put as much distance between yourself and Vesuvius as you can, or you will surely die.”

As Cain and Rina hurried back to their villa, they could see that an enormous cloud was stretching upward from the volcano. Most of the cloud was white, but other portions of it were stained with dark, ashy patches.

“This is just the beginning,” shouted Cain as the guards at the front gate saluted him smartly. “Quickly, Marcellus!” he said to one of the younger gatemen. “Run to the boathouses. Tell Captain Felix to prepare the
Nostos
and have Secundus ready all of the smaller boats.” Glancing at the sun, he added, “It is now almost the ninth hour. Tell them we must leave as soon as possible”

The young guard nodded and sprinted off in the direction of the beach. As they entered the villa, Cain turned to Rina.

“Believe me, the volcano is lethal. The ash cloud will collapse, and then an avalanche will follow. All of Herculaneum and Pompeii will be covered in a deep layer of molten rock.”

“Should we take shelter in the observatory?” Rina asked with alarm.

“No. Our only chance is to get out. Please tell Helvia to organize the staff. Everyone must be on board the
Nostos
before darkness falls. The cloud will soon blot out the sun.”

An hour later, Secundus appeared from the boathouses to report that all the vessels had been readied. He added that buildings in the town of Herculaneum had started to crumble from intensifying ground tremors.

“Spread the word to anyone you see on the beach, Secundus,” Cain told him. “People need to leave at once. You know the capacity of our vessels. Take on as many evacuees as you can.”

“Many of them still refuse to leave, sir,” said Secundus. “They do not believe they are in danger.”

“Make them believe if you possibly can,” Cain ordered. “Otherwise, they will perish.”

As the sun’s light waned, Cain led his family and staff from the villa to the boathouses. Ash had started to fall, thinly at first and then in heavier densities. When the shoreline came into view, Cain could not suppress an exclamation of astonishment at the patches of pumice rock already floating in the water. On Vesuvius, to the east, sheets of flame were lighting up parts of the mountain. He noticed that several of his sailors had tied pillows to their heads, as a protection against dust and small fragments of lightweight stones that showered down from the sky. A ghastly, sulfuric odor had filled the air.

Already, 250 people were aboard the
Nostos
, but Captain Felix assured him there would still be room for family and staff. Felix gestured to the rowboat that would take them out to the flagship, anchored in the bay. Rina boarded first, followed by the twins. But as Cain stepped into the rowboat, he heard Drusus calling out to him from his own sailboat nearby.

“Marcus, I’ve been trying to find you. You left the roof of your observatory open!”

Cain shook his head. He clearly remembered shutting the dome and the oculus. It was the first thing he did once the evacuation was underway.

“Are you certain, Drusus?” he shouted.

“Yes. I could see the circular opening as we were leaving our villa.”

Turning to Rina and the twins, he said, “I have to go back to the observatory. Felix, I won’t be long, but there is no time to wait for me here. The rain of pumice is getting heavier every minute. And even this light onshore wind will impede the
Nostos
with its present load. Getting the ship safely out of the harbor will be difficult if you don’t leave immediately.”

“But what about you, sir?” the Captain implored.

“Is there another rowboat available?”

“Yes, sir, just as you ordered. It’s in the boathouse, with a crew of four oarsmen standing by.”

“Fine. Leave now for safer waters. You should go at least thirty kilometers from here.”

“I suggest we dock in Misenum, then,” said Felix. “Hopefully, Fleet Admiral
Pliny
will lend us assistance.”

“Good plan,” Cain said. “He is a personal friend of mine. I will take the smaller vessel and meet you there as soon as I can.”

He turned to Rina and the girls. “My loves, I have no choice. If the oculus remains open, my life’s work will be ruined. Please don’t worry. I’ll follow you and we will all meet in Misenum.”

“I can go with you and help—we can let the twins sail with Felix,” Rina offered.

“No, there will be plenty of time for me to get away safely. You go with Felix. I need you to look after the girls and help calm the frightened passengers.”

“Father, please hurry—we’re scared!” cried Callista and Alexandria in unison.

He kissed his wife good-bye, hugged his teenage daughters, and stepped ashore. Felix ordered the oarsmen to stroke, and the small boat began to move out into the bay, ferrying them swiftly to the safety of the
Nostos
.

It took Cain longer than he had expected to get back to the observatory. The grounds of his unguarded villa were crisscrossed by refugees, whose shrill laments and cries of alarm could be heard through the inky blackness of the artificial nightfall. Many of the town’s panicked residents were finally seeking the shortest route across his property to the beach. They shouted out in the darkness for their relatives. Some of them called on the gods, while others shrieked that the gods had forsaken them and were bringing the world to an end. The scene was only rendered eerier by lightning flashes, as the volcanic eruption created its own localized weather system. Using a torch to see, Cain had to wade through ankle-deep ash and pumice stones as he crossed the villa’s courtyard.

Finally reaching the observatory, he quickly punched in the code and opened the thick bronze doors. Once inside, he stepped on the floor section shaped like a fish, and the portals slowly swung shut behind him. Drusus was right—the oculus was wide open, and pumice and ash were accumulating on the floor. Cain looked around the enormous circular space, intermittently illuminated by the lightning. He used his torch to ignite a few of the freestanding candles against the wall to provide a dim but steady source of light. Then he extinguished the torch.

Should he take anything at all with him? he wondered. The fortified chamber was constructed to secure all the contents that would tell his story to future generations, but Cain decided there was one treasure that he could, and would, salvage.

Opening a small lacquered box, he withdrew the game tile stained by the blood of Jesus during their first meeting a half century ago. Unlooping the sturdy silver chain he had attached to the tile, he hung it around his neck.

Then he turned his attention to the metal wheel in the middle of the observatory, directly below the small opening in the center of the dome. This was the mechanism that controlled the gears that would close the oculus and seal the dome. As he turned the wheel, he could feel the ground vibrating beneath his feet and could hear a low rumbling noise getting louder by the second. As he recalled from his great wandering, this signaled the worst. Pyroclastic flow, a superheated mixture of mud and ash, was racing down the slopes of Vesuvius toward Herculaneum.

Cain now knew he would not make it out alive.

“Stop!”
boomed a metallic voice in the darkness. A flash of lightning through the oculus briefly illuminated Abaddon. Cain immediately apprehended the purpose of the devil’s visit. Ever the opportunist, he sought the destruction of the observatory’s contents by Vesuvius’s fiery discharge. Cain ignored the order and urgently continued his task.

“Oh, isn’t that just like you, Cain? Abandoning your wife and children in this crisis to tend to your narcissistic little collection,”
the devil hissed.
“But for naught, you fool. It all burns tonight. You will do as I command! Otherwise, I will ensure that your slave woman of a wife is captured by the Romans and executed for her crime!”

Cain paused momentarily at these last words, but then dauntlessly resumed his effort at the wheel. The oculus was slowly closing, with only a narrow sliver of sky remaining.

“Let go of that wheel, damn you!”
shouted the master of spirits, as he forcibly restrained both of Cain’s arms with supernatural strength. Another lightning flash forked down through the oculus, illuminating the antagonists for a second. The light caught the silver of the chain around Cain’s neck and highlighted the tile.

“And give me back my game piece, accursed one!”
roared the devil. But as he grabbed the tile with his left hand, he was instantly paralyzed, looking up at Cain with his mouth agape in shock. His right hand remained fixed on Cain’s arm, but it no longer impeded his progress. Cain spun the wheel in one final revolution and then heard the counterweights kicking in. The oculus would shut on its own now.

Before it was fully closed, however, the initial wave of Vesuvius’s pyroclastic mud splashed over the observatory. Cain glanced upward as the small, shrinking gap in the oculus admitted a narrow column of searing death that hurtled down toward him and the devil.

Only an instant remained before they were both frozen in time by the lethal incursion. Yet, in that brief moment, Cain’s perception expanded in proportion to his unique lifespan, and he was blessed by a series of wondrous assurances. The devil’s perennial assaults on his destiny had been divinely thwarted. His repository of history and, more poignantly, his own story, would be preserved and one day revealed, as Jesus had promised. For the first time ever, his loved ones would survive him. And, at long last, he would rest in peace in the presence of his Maker.

With elation that only he could experience, Cain looked his ancient enemy in the eye—and smiled.

Then the dome sealed everything.

CHAPTER 76

Ercolano: Present Day

 

 

 

AMANDA JAMES STARED AT the two ash-covered figures frozen in front of her. A ghostly silence engulfed the chamber. In contrast to the shattering roar of the volcano’s ancient eruption, the stillness jolted her back to the here and now as her vision drew to a close.

“Incredible,” she murmured, looking at the tile dangling from the neck of the powerful wrestler she now knew to be Cain. Drawing a deep breath, she checked her watch. It was a few minutes past noon—millennia had been compressed into a mere three hours!

Amanda carefully removed the chain from around Cain’s neck, noticing some exposed portions of bone on his skeletal frame that was otherwise coated by hardened mud and ash. Next, she nervously extracted the tile from the devil’s grasp. As she did so, his right arm and shoulder disintegrated into coarse powder, revealing a grotesque, hollow shell. In the cool dry air of the cavernous repository, she now understood that only one of these two beings had truly perished here.

The other was still on the loose.

Examining the ceramic gaming tile in the halogen beam of her headlamp, Amanda saw the green serpent depicted on it, partially obscured by a small, dark blot that she knew was the blood of Jesus.

It hadn’t been a hallucination!

Since the vision had ended at the instant of Cain’s death, she found herself wondering whether Rina had survived on that terrifying night. Abruptly, a stark image from one of the towering blood-draped murals on the walls of Luc Renard’s villa flashed through her mind. It was the vivid portrayal of a tall, red-haired woman about to be devoured by lions in the Roman Colosseum. Amanda was shaken as she recognized the striking female in the painting. Rina looked about ten years older than she remembered her. Had the devil made good on his threat to take revenge and have Rina killed as a wanted criminal, or was she swept up with other Christians and barbarically sacrificed for the pleasure of Rome’s cheering mob? Amanda guessed she would never know the real reason behind Rina’s execution.

Even more perplexing was the fact that Cain’s wife was completely unknown to history. How then, could Renard have possibly commissioned a painting that celebrated her death? Further reflection on the tabloid billionaire did nothing to quell her rising alarm. She recalled his extravagant party at Villa Colosseum. The suave host had vigorously attempted to lure her to Japan instead of Italy. Renard’s job offer had seemed so flattering last Thursday evening, but now Amanda suspected it was a deliberate attempt to prevent her from making this discovery. What else to make of the near miss on the highway the moment she’d rebuffed him? Or the man at the airport in Rome—the limousine driver holding a placard with her name on it? Or the car that chased them on the drive to Ercolano?

BOOK: Wayward Son
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