Chaos (12 page)

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Authors: David Meyer

Tags: #Thriller

BOOK: Chaos
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I breathed in, inhaling the scent. It smelled sour yet sweet. I also detected a hint of copper. There was no mistaking it.

“It’s blood,” I said. “Pretty fresh too.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Beverly frowned. “We should get to the surface and find some help.”

“Screw that.”

“I don’t know what’s going on around here, but it seems pretty clear that people are dying. I’m not going to allow you to risk your life.”

“That’s not your decision to make.”

“It’s protocol to –”

I slammed the side of my fist against the wall. “Screw your protocol. Kolen was a friend. And I’ll be damned if I leave this place without finding him.”

“Don’t be stupid. We have all the evidence we need.”

I dropped flat on the wet ground. Shining the beam before me, I crawled into the dark tunnel. “I’m not looking for evidence,” I called out grimly. “I’m looking for bodies.”

 

Chapter 18

It didn’t take long for me to smell sewage. And the farther I inched through the natural crevice, the stronger the smell.

Or rather, smells.

Numerous odors melded together into one giant noxious aroma. I felt myself getting light-headed. Grimacing, I wrapped my shirt collar over my nose and held my breath. But the stink was inescapable.

I followed the twisting, turning tunnel for what seemed like hundreds of yards. Along the way, I passed several other fissures, which branched off of the main one. But I ignored them and continued on, driven, yet repulsed by the overwhelming stench.

The tunnel began to descend. Eventually, my beam cut through the end of the passage and I saw a perpendicular tunnel. It looked larger than the one that surrounded me but much smaller than the one I’d left behind. Crawling forward, I slid headfirst into it.

And headfirst into a mess of filth and muck.

I scrambled to my feet, bumping my head against the ceiling in the process. I frantically tried to wipe away the sludge. But it was too late. I smelled like garbage and industrial waste. But most of all I smelled like shit.

Tons and tons of shit.

Beverly scraped her way out of the passage and stood up. Her face was white and she looked ready to vomit. Slowly, she bent at the waist and placed her hands on her knees. “Oh my God. This place is revolting. I swear I’ll never forgive you for this.”

“You didn’t have to come.”

She gave me a queasy look. “I thought you said these sewers were flooded.”

“Some of them probably are flooded. We happened to get lucky. Don’t jinx it.”

Tightening my grip around the flashlight, I pointed the beam around the tunnel. It stood close to six feet tall and was shaped in a cylindrical fashion.

I heard a soft splash. Twisting swiftly, I pointed my beam down one end of the tunnel.

I saw nothing.

Nothing but more tunnel.

And more sewage.

I switched my attention to the tunnel roof. “I’ve got more blood. Lots of it, in fact.”

She shrugged. “No big surprise there. Someone probably stood up and bumped against the ceiling.”

“The splatter is too widespread for that. No, I think something else caused the blood to land up here. Something that struck with tremendous force.”

“Then where are the bodies?”

I pointed my flashlight around the sewer tunnel. While both ends looked alike, the blood marks appeared to travel in just one direction. I unsheathed my machete and stepped forward, following the trail of red smears through the tunnel.

“Is it safe in here?” Beverly’s voice didn’t waver.

“Are you kidding? Don’t you see all this blood?”

“I don’t mean that. I mean is it safe to breathe the air?”

“We should be fine unless we stumble on a pocket of carbon-monoxide.”

“What happens if we do that?”

“We die. Pretty quickly.”

Despite the warm tunnel, cold sweat dripped down my face. For the next thirty seconds or so, we tramped through the tunnel in relative silence. It angled slightly, ascending upward. Then it leveled off again. I kept my flashlight moving the entire time, looking for signs of life.

Abruptly, my beam fell upon a couple of lumps.

My fingers tightened around the machete until my knuckles hurt. My other hand drifted to my chest, just above my pistol.

I approached the lumps and studied them.

They were bodies.

Dead bodies.

The sweet, sickly odor of decomposition forced its way into my nostrils. A deep sense of foreboding filled my chest. I knelt down, allowing my knee to sink into the soft sludge. I exhaled as I examined the corpses. They were in horrendous shape. Most of the skin and flesh was gone. The parts that remained were covered with deep, gouging bite marks.

My gaze drifted to what remained of a face.

It was a face I recognized.

It was Javier Kolen’s face.

Memories flooded my skull and I fought back an urge to vomit. Colorful lights appeared at the corners of my eyes and it took all my willpower to stave off yet another incident.

As I regained control of my emotions, I shifted my flashlight up and down his body. Bits of clothing and inch-thick grime covered his legs. Reaching out, I flicked away some of the sludge, revealing more bones.

Bones picked clean.

“Good lord,” Beverly whispered. “What in the world happened to them?”

I didn’t answer. What the hell could I say? The sight was more shocking, more horrifying than anything I’d ever seen in my life.

I closed my eyes and tried to say a prayer for Kolen’s soul, for all of their souls. But gruesome images kept shooting through my brain, causing me to forget my words. I glanced at Beverly. “I don’t know. But I do know that this skeleton belongs to Kolen. I can’t be sure about the others.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

Her voice turned businesslike. “We need to get out of here. Jack needs to know about this.”

“Who could’ve done this?” I muttered under my breath. “And why?”

“Cy, did you hear me?”

I nodded.

She gave me a long look. I sensed a deep emotional struggle waging within her.

“This is the end of the line,” she said after a minute.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m going to advise Jack that we call off this search.”

“But…”

“A Nazi treasure that may not even exist doesn’t matter much anymore. We need to focus our efforts on returning these poor folks to the surface and giving them proper burials.”

“We also need to bring whoever did this to justice.”

“That’s not your responsibility.”

“I want to help.”

“It’s a job for the police. As of now, you’re released from your obligations.”

“I don’t want to be released.”

“You’ll be paid of course,” she replied. “In full. But your work is done. You’re free to leave.”

“But…”

Her face darkened. “But nothing. I don’t want to see your face again. If I do, I’ll make sure you never get your money.”

Turning around, she walked back through the tunnel. I watched her leave, feeling confused and unsatisfied. It was all happening so fast, so abruptly.

It’s not supposed to end this way.

Still, a murderer had killed numerous people. That changed everything, at least for the time being.

I wanted to feel relieved. After less than twenty-four hours of work, I’d become wealthy, wealthier than my wildest dreams. I could pay off my debts. I could go anywhere, do anything. My whole life was a book waiting to be written.

But a vague sense of dissatisfaction gave me pause. With a long sigh, I stood up. As I did so, my flashlight tipped and the beam glinted. I stared at Kolen’s body for a moment, trying to decide whether to leave well enough alone.

Finally, I leaned down and examined an ivory-colored object. It stuck straight out of Javier’s leg bone but didn’t seem like it belonged to him. I grabbed the object, wrenching it free.

I brought it to my face. At first glance, it looked long and sharp. As I turned it in my hands, a horrifying realization hit me.

It was a tooth. A giant tooth.

The biggest one I’d ever seen.

 

Chapter 19

Never before had a building inspired such loathing in my soul.

From the opposite sidewalk, I stared up at the Explorer’s Society’s headquarters, barely containing my disgust. The more I saw it, the more it served as a stark reminder of simpler, happier times. Times spent laughing with Diane. Living in Manhattan. Working as a respected archaeologist. Living a life free of guilt, free of regrets.

Living a life without the constant reminder of death.

Sheets of rain engulfed the building and the surrounding area. Dark shadows plagued everything. It was early morning and yet it didn’t look like it.

I gulped in a few mouthfuls of cold moisture-filled air. Then, I crossed the street and started up the staircase. I kept my eyes low to avoid the rain, deliberately ignoring the stained glass, the white marble, and those creepy statue heads.

At the pair of heavy oak doors, I paused. My instincts told me to trace my fingers along the grooves, just like I did as a boy. But I ignored them. Instead, I shoved the doors open and stepped into the interior.

Despite the relatively early hour, a few people milled around the Great Hall. I didn’t look at them although I sensed their eyes on me, staring, wondering, evaluating. Without pausing, I marched forward, barely noticing the dark wood floor, the oriental carpets, or the exhibits. I had no interest in the Society itself, not anymore.

At the rear of the Hall, I angled right and hurried down the long corridor. As I passed Diane’s painting, I wanted to stop, to drink it in. But I averted my eyes and continued walking.

The door at the end of the corridor was closed. As soon as I reached it, I grabbed the knob, twisted, and flung it open.

“What the hell?”

The gravely, gritty tone brought a smile to my face. It felt good to smile. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done it. “Long time no see.”

Graham spun around in his chair and flashed me a tired grin. “Well, well, look who decided to show his face. After yesterday’s little debacle, I thought I’d never see you again.”

“What’s a little fight between old friends?”

He chuckled. “I wish I’d taped it. One minute you’re toe to toe with Standish. The next, you’re gone and he’s tripping over a seat trying to grab you. The poor bastard fell flat on his face.”

“It couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”

“What was that all about anyway? You mentioned Colombia and caciques?”

I sat down in a chair. “He bribed his way into ownership of a dig site and proceeded to clean it out.”

Graham frowned. “You should lodge a complaint against him. The Society takes that kind of thing very seriously.”

“Yeah right,” I replied. “Who’s going to listen to me? I’m persona non grata around here.”

Graham shrugged. “So, what’s new? You still working for Chase or did you finally wise up?”

“I’m sort of in hiatus.”

“What are you doing for him anyway?”

I hesitated. “I signed a non-disclosure agreement so I can’t say much. But I do have a favor to ask.”

“What’s that?”

I reached into my pocket and closed my fingers around the hard, sharp object. No one else knew about it but me. Not the doctor who examined my wounds a few hours ago. Not Chase. Not even Beverly.

Extending my hand, I opened my fingers. “Have you ever seen something like this before?”

He took the tooth and examined it. A frown spread across his face. “Where did you find this?”

“Never mind that. Do you recognize it?”

Graham stood up. Wobbling slightly, he retrieved a book from the bookshelf and scanned it. “I thought so,” he said at last. “Here it is.”

He placed the book on the desk and flipped it around to face me. Leaning in, I noticed a photo of a tooth that looked quite similar to the one I’d found. My eyes drifted to the caption and I felt my heart skip a beat.

“It’s an alligator tooth,” Graham said. “The American alligator to be exact. And a massive one too from the looks of it.”

“But that’s impossible.”

Graham settled back into his chair. “I answered your question. Now, you answer mine. Where’d you find it?”

“In a sewer tunnel.”

“I thought I smelled something rancid in here.”

“I guess one shower wasn’t enough to erase the stench.”

Graham grimaced. “You guessed right. So, are you going to tell me what the hell is going on here or not?”

“I haven’t seen an alligator if that’s what you’re wondering. But the tooth did come from a sewer tunnel.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Maybe someone flushed it down a toilet for some reason. Hell, if you looked closely enough, I’d bet you’d find all sorts of strange shit in those sewers.”

“Could an alligator even survive in the sewers?” I asked. “I mean, I’ve heard the stories but I always considered them urban legends.”

“There was one gator back in 1935. Some folks found it in a Harlem sewer. But if my memory is correct, it didn’t actually live in that sewer. It escaped and took refuge in it. By the time it was discovered, the reptile had nearly starved and frozen to death. I can recall a few other discoveries since then. But most of those alligators were small, maybe a foot or two long.”

He tipped his head back, deep in thought. “I also recall hearing about a guy named Teddy May. They used to call him King of the Sewers. He achieved some fame in the 1940s and 1950s for his supposed exploits under New York. He once claimed to have led a sewer safari to wipe out an alligator colony. Of course, Teddy was renowned for his tall tales so who really knows for sure?”

I thought for a second. “You’ve hunted alligators before. Do you think one could survive in Manhattan’s sewer system?”

“Well now, that’s a tough question to answer. Our cold winter climate isn’t really conducive to an alligator. The sewers would give it some degree of warmth but I don’t know if they could provide enough food.”

“What if it, uh, ate people?”

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