Threshold (37 page)

His first breath of fresh air was welcome. His second was out of a nightmare.

FIFTY-SIX

El Mirador, Guatemala

THE CLOUDS OVERHEAD
had thickened, blocking out more of the rising sun’s light. Combined with the thick jungle canopy, it was like a permanent twilight. Lightning occasionally lit the scene, allowing Knight a clearer view of his fleeing target. But his eyes were keen. Dim light or not, he could see Ridley ahead, weaving in and out of the tall, thin trees that filled the jungle. Ridley was a bigger man and a slower runner, but he also didn’t tire. Catching him would have to be done quickly, especially given the direction in which he was headed—straight back to the campsite where he would have plenty of hostages.

Though the jungle canopy was thick with giant leaves, the ground was virtually vegetation free. Knight poured on the speed. While Ridley still ran in a haphazard line, most likely fearing a bullet shot, Knight only shifted if a tree or some other immovable object crossed his path.

He closed to within twenty feet and drew his sidearm. He couldn’t kill Ridley, but a few shots to the head should put him down long enough to subdue. He took aim and saw something disturbing.

Ridley was smiling.

Why would he be
—

The forest floor exploded as something massive struck with the force of a bomb.

Knight slid to a stop, landing on his backside in a puddle of mud. In front of him, a long stone lay half buried in the dirt. A loud slurping sound came from the object as it began rising out of the muck. Knight followed the movement and saw a large silhouette standing above him.

The stone is an arm!

With a flash of lightning he saw the golem. It was a twenty-foot-tall statue of Chac, the Mayan god of rain. His eyes, carved thousands of years ago, were angry. His mouth was down-turned. Its body was covered in the horrified faces of those sacrificed to him. The frightening Mayan style only accentuated the menace emanating from the now-living stone.

As though sensing Knight’s rising fear, the golem raised its giant hand to strike again.

Knight scrambled in the mud, his feet slipping out from under him. Grasping a thin tree, he yanked his body out of reach just as the golem struck. The force of the impact knocked him forward. Rather than fall into the mud again he leaped, curled his body, and landed in a roll that flung him back to his feet. He continued the pursuit without pause.

Though now he wasn’t just chasing Ridley, he was also running for his life. Lightning flashed again and he caught a glimpse of Ridley in the distance, still making for the camp. He gave chase. When the ground began to shake, he knew the golem had done likewise.

Ridley rounded a mound that hid a smaller, not yet excavated temple inside, and disappeared from view. Rather than take the circuitous route around, Knight headed straight for it. He tore up the side and quickly realized his mistake. The ground was saturated and slippery. Each step slid out from under him, cutting his speed in half and giving the golem time to catch up.

He looked back and saw a huge, perpetually clenched fist flying toward his body. With the mud working against an ascending escape, he allowed gravity and the slick ground to save his life. He slid down the slope as the golem’s fist punched into the mound, impaling several feet of dirt and buried temple. Knight came to a stop at the golem’s feet.

He looked up and saw it looking down at him. It tried to yank free, but its arm was held tight.

Trapped.

But not immobile. The golem picked its foot off the ground and tried to step on Knight. But he saw it coming and ran between its legs, stopping safely behind it.

Just as he was feeling the fight was over, the golem put its whole body into pulling the arm free. But it didn’t come free of the temple mound. Stonelike sinews stretched out where the shoulder met torso. With a grinding crunch the arm tore free.

Showing no signs of pain, the golem turned on him, its ghastly expression still frozen on its face. But all it saw of Knight was his back, quickly shrinking as he ran around the temple, hoping to make up the distance between him and Ridley before he reached the camp.

With a healthy head start on the golem, Knight couldn’t feel its thunderous footfalls, but he could hear the trees in its path snapping. He gave a quick glance over his shoulder and saw the one-armed golem fifty feet back, running straight for him. Trees shattered and fell as the giant cleared a path.

Knight had no such luxury. As the jungle grew dense, he had to weave his way through trees and over large root systems that spread out like Medusa’s mane of snakes.

But he could see Ridley ahead once more.

And the camp beyond, glowing with artificial light.

Suddenly he was through the trees and in a clearing. Willing his body to move faster despite the burning in his lungs and the ache in his legs, Knight closed to within shooting distance once again.

A grove of trees separated the clearing from the camp where an unknown number of researchers hid from the weather. He needed to stop Ridley
now.

Taking aim, Knight ignored the loud crack of trees behind him as the golem entered the clearing. He ignored Ridley’s phony shouts for help. The rain. The lightning. The thunder. All his attention was on his aim. In the fraction of a second when his running body reached the top of a step he pulled the trigger. The bullet spun out of the gun barrel, cut through the rain, and covered the distance to Ridley.

A large chunk of flesh exploded from Ridley’s kneecap. He stumbled, lurching forward. It was the pause Knight was hoping for. He stopped running and took careful aim.

The golem charged across the clearing. Geysers of mud burst into the air around its heavy, stumplike feet. It reached out.

Knight unloaded a full clip of ammo into Ridley, striking his legs and head several times.

Ridley fell in a heap, landing in a patch of grass.

The golem fell with him.

It landed facedown with a boom that rivaled the thunder. Carried forward by its momentum, it slid through the grass and mud, pushing up a mound in front of it. It stopped only feet from Knight’s position with a pile of earth half covering its head.

Knight looked back at the golem, letting out the breath he’d been holding.

Lightning lit the scene.

The golem was immobile and in pieces.

And Ridley was …

Knight ran to the flattened grass that marked Ridley’s fall. Something was there, but it wasn’t Ridley’s body. He knelt down, turning on his flashlight. A gray mass in the shape of a man’s body rest atop the grass.

“What the…”

Knight put his fingers in the material. It was cold and wet. He scooped some up and rubbed it between his fingers. Then he smelled it. The scent brought back memories of digging the stuff out of river bottoms as a child. He knew what it was, and what it meant.

Hearing Bishop and Queen arrive behind him, he turned to them.

“Did you get him?” Queen asked, catching her breath.

Knight stepped aside, showing them the mass of wet, gray material. “It’s clay,” he said. “This wasn’t Ridley. It was a golem.”

FIFTY-SEVEN

Wiltshire, England

THE STINK HIT
King first—a mixture of copper, feces, and something unidentifiable but equally grotesque. Before he saw the disemboweled corpse, he knew it was there. A man wearing a baseball hat and a camera around his neck lay ten feet away. His body had been folded backward—head resting on heels—and his gut had split open. King drew his weapon and surveyed the parking lot.

Bodies were everywhere, torn apart and crushed. King had seen a similar scene before and recognized the work of a merciless golem. Several cars burned. Screams rolled over the hills from the distance. People were still alive, but given the high pitch of their screams they were either being killed or expected to be at any moment. “Let’s go!” King said, running into the lot and heading for their car.

Before reaching the vehicle he could see something was wrong. The driver’s side tire was bent at an odd angle. When he reached it, he found the whole front end imploded. Something huge had crushed the car.

The ground shook.

Something was still out there.

King closed his eyes in dread. “He wouldn’t…”

“What is it?”

King didn’t answer, he just ran for the tunnel that led beneath the road. He entered the tunnel at full speed, made his way through, and rounded the ramp on the far side. At the top he saw his fears realized.

Stonehenge was missing.

Circles of large pits were all that remained of the ancient monument. Knowing a golem constructed from the bluestones of Stonehenge wouldn’t be hard to find, King spun around and found the giant much closer than he expected. Standing thirty feet tall, the gray giant was as large as it was featureless. But even without a face of any kind, it glowed with malice. And right then, the target of its rage was a ruby red, double-decker tour bus.

Lauren.

Not only was the bus in mortal danger, but it was also their best chance of escape. Realizing this at the same time, both men hopped the chain-link fence and waved down the bus. It screeched to a halt next to them and the doors opened.

“Get in!” Lauren shouted.

As Alexander leaped up the steps into the bus, King said, “Let me drive.”

Lauren complied immediately, closing the doors as King took the driver’s seat, threw the bus into drive, and gunned the gas. Looking in the rearview he could see the golem nearly upon them and gaining. His only chance of escape was to outmaneuver the behemoth.

Right,
King thought,
I’m going to outmaneuver this thing in a double-decker bus
.

The bus gained speed quickly as they headed downhill, and maintained it at the bottom, but King saw a new problem ahead. The tunnel they had followed from the Durrington Walls to the tomb hidden beneath Stonehenge had collapsed, creating an impassable sinkhole that stretched the distance.

“Hang on!” King shouted, yanking the wheel and sending them into a sharp left turn. The driver’s side tires lifted off the ground for a moment, but King turned the wheel the other way and righted them. The bus crashed through the fence that lined the road.

King saw the large golem pass by behind them, unable to turn as quickly. But it reached out with its long arm and struck the back of the bus. The back half of the upper deck was torn away with a shriek of metal.

Lauren screamed, ducking with her hands over her head. “What the hell is that thing!”

King looked back, his view clear thanks to the missing back half of the bus. They had gained ground on the golem, but it hadn’t given up the chase. “You know the story about Merlin using giants to carry the stones to Stonehenge?”

Lauren looked incredulous. “Yeah?”

“It’s not a story.” He looked back again. The golem was gaining as the bus fought against the slick soil of the field they were speeding through. “Though I suppose no one needed to carry the stones if they could carry themselves.”

Lauren let out a nervous laugh. “Please just drive.”

King steered the bus through a second fence and onto a straight dirt road that was part of a large grid crisscrossing through the fields. With a road beneath them, they began distancing themselves from the golem again, taking the large vehicle up to eighty miles per hour. The copious amount of potholes made the drive rough, but it wouldn’t be catching them any time—

“Incoming!” Alexander shouted.

King whipped around and saw a large rectangular stone hurtling through the air toward them.

“It’s throwing parts of itself!” Lauren shouted.

King watched the stone sail overhead. It crashed into the road, twenty feet ahead. He turned away, plowing into the field. A second stone slammed into the field to their right. King veered back on the road and shouted at the bus as he pushed the gas pedal all the way down. “C’mon you piece of shit! Move!”