Nina led Colonel Hiltmeyer and Private Harris down the stairs first. Alexander followed after taking what he feared might be his last gulp of fresh air. Montross descended last, still holding aloft the Emerald Tablet in his left hand, his gun in his right. At the bottom, they followed the glow, approaching the threshold with caution.
“Left their floodlights behind,” Nina noted when they had passed the first door and saw the large halogen bulbs resting amidst the pile of skeletal remains.
“Good thing too,” Montross said, pointing at the mosaic floor. “Now we can follow Hansel and Gretel’s grisly trail.”
Alexander shuffled his feet, hands in his pocket, the chill reaching deeper as they proceeded. The air was dank and oppressive, stifling. The corridors on either side loomed dark and full of menace, and the stairs behind them only reminded him of the field of corpses above.
Death up there, death down here, he thought. As Above, so Below.
Private Harris went first, looking miserable and terrified all at once, rubbing his elbow which had been banged up during the fall down the stairs. Then Hiltmeyer went, glaring back at Nina with every step. Harris’s foot slid on one spot, almost connecting with another square tile. “Still wet,” he said with a shaky voice.
“We’re not far behind them,” Montross said.
Harris suddenly froze, unable to take another step, glancing in both directions, expecting a hail of spears to rip through him at any moment. He glanced back at Alexander. “Is this it?”
Alexander thought for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t think so. I can’t tell.”
“A premonition?” Montross asked. “About Harris here? Ah, well if that was the case, the danger may now be passed.”
“You can change fate?” Harris asked hopefully.
“We all can,” Montross said. “We do it every day, every minute. But you’re only conscious of it when you can see the tracks ahead and you know what’s coming. Then, your choices seem to make you all powerful, make you feel almost godlike.”
That seemed to be confusing enough to mollify Harris, and he continued for now, following Hiltmeyer along the red-smeared tiles. Montross waited at the edge of the mosaic floor, staying back with Nina and Alexander.
“What’s up?” Nina asked.
He hugged the Emerald Tablet to his chest. “I just saw a flash of something. A glimpse ahead. Your friend Hiltmeyer… near the last tile, if we were still behind him, he was going to drop to his knees and roll over the wrong tiles, releasing the spikes from both passages-”
“Running us through while he rolled to safety.” Nina’s eyes burned. The Beretta felt lighter in her hand.
“You saw the future again?” Alexander asked Montross, overhearing. “You keep seeing your death, don’t you?”
Montross glanced down. “Observant boy. Yes. Seeing it-and avoiding it.”
“Wow. How many times?”
Montross shrugged. “I’ve racked up more wins against the Reaper than I can count.”
Alexander gave a little laugh. “Yeah, but he only has to win once.”
“So true. Now, let’s get going. Nina, keep your gun on Hiltmeyer until I’m across.”
“With pleasure.”
Alexander followed Montross, matching his steps, finding comfort in the fact that he was also following in his father’s footsteps. Finally, they crossed the map and were past the border of the mosaic, joining Hiltmeyer and Harris, where the colonel refused to make eye contact. Instead, he gazed ahead, into the shadows.
Montross held the tablet in one hand as he waved Nina forward and pulled out Nilak’s Ruger with the other. The tablet’s glow provided enough illumination to see by, but not much more.
When Nina was across, she threw one of her backpacks at the colonel. “Flashlights inside. Also water and food.” She patted the goggles hanging around her neck. “I’m keeping the night-vision goggles.”
“What’s up ahead?” Hiltmeyer asked, finding a flashlight and turning it on. He and Harris advanced, probing the shadows.
Alexander took a light from Nina and shined it straight ahead as he walked, following them. Then left, then right, down the newly revealed passageways.
“I smell something,” he said.
Montross wrinkled his nose. “Something toxic.” He pointed left. “From that direction.”
“I saw water,” Alexander said, closing his eyes and focusing again. “Water, or something like it. Shiny, like silver. And a boat filled with people. And my Dad!”
He took off running in that direction, but didn’t get far. Nina was on him in a flash, collaring him and holding him still. “Don’t do that again. Apart from not wanting you to escape, running into shadows is the best way to get yourself killed down here.”
“I know,” Alexander said. “But they went this way.”
“If they went that way,” Montross said, quietly, as he turned and faced right, ignoring the partially open false door ahead of them, “then I believe we’ll to go this way.”
“What?” Hiltmeyer asked, shining his light back and forth. “Why?”
“Because we need to make up time, and because that”-he shined his light on an inscription on the wall ahead of them-“says our choice doesn’t matter.”
Nina came back, pulling Alexander with her, even as he dragged his feet, looking back over his shoulder, fighting the tears in his eyes.
“This way may even be faster,” Montross said, urging Hiltmeyer and Harris toward the room with the ceiling-press trap. “I have seen the river too. It’s beautiful. And fortunately there’s a vessel there as well, waiting.”
“For what?” Harris asked.
“I don’t know. For Temujin’s use in the afterlife, should he desire a scenic boat ride?” Montross tightened his grip on the tablet. “Or just for someone who might come knocking with the right key.”
Alexander moaned, still looking the other direction. “But Dad and Aunt Phoebe! They don’t have the key, any key! And that way, the one they picked…” He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to dislodge the horrific visions.
“That way is worse. Much worse. They’re not going to make it!”