The Medusa Stone

Chapter 23

Don looked for Heidmann and Costa but found no trace of them. Assuming they had been hit by stray bullets, he searched the hall for them. The smoke had cleared, and dust had settled, leaving the archeologist alone in the tomb of rock and ash, listening to the shower outside. The smell of gunpowder floated around him and as he passed the strewn bodies the coppery odor of fresh blood and raw flesh overcame him. Don’s body convulsed and he fell to his knees, vomiting from a combination of disgust and nervous release.

After he had emptied the contents of his stomach on the dusty floor, he staggered to his feet. He could not find Costa or Heidmann. No matter where he looked, they were absent, both in stone and flesh. In his light headed daze of shock, Don completely overlooked the scaffolding against one wall, where Heidmann was perching low over the limp body of Costa Megalos. Heidmann did not want to confront the robust and accurately aiming archeologist from Dundee. Therefore, he elected to remain hidden.

Don eventually gave up and headed for the exit. He hoped Purdue and Nina had gotten away safely. The rain was like a soothing shower of frigid water over him. For a moment, Don stood still to revel in the pleasure of being washed clean of all the dust and blood that tainted his body and face. He looked up at the sky and closed his eyes, unafraid of the lightning, and opened his mouth to receive the soothing cool water. In all the adrenaline-fueled panic, his mouth had dried up, and he eagerly gulped down every bit of water his mouth collected.

When he had had enough, he stumbled ahead to where they had entered. This time, he made sure that he did not get caught on the sharp teeth of the junk metal and die of tetanus. In fact, he pictured his large body being caught up in the tangles of steel and rust, being left there to starve to death with nobody coming to find him. Don wondered what it would feel like to have infected scratches, bleeding out while the starvation and thirst tormented him day after day until he went mad with despair.

“Christ, aren’t you a bloody ray of sunshine, Donny-boy?” he reprimanded himself as he climbed through the other side and realized that he would not be spending his last days as dried Scottish jerky. On the other side of the fence, there was nothing, but a heinous thought suddenly surfaced in his head to prompt Don to dash toward the tree line.

‘What if that ugly snake-headed thing was around here?’

The very thought of the repulsive girl he saw in the weak headlights of the van kept Don unaware of his fatigue or the sting in his side as he ran for shelter under the dark trees. He had to stick to the road, though, to make sure he did not get lost. And with his luck, he would probably end up at some shack to ask for directions and get captured by the serpent monster and become dinner.

It was too dark to see anything and his cell phone screen was of no help. The rain prevented any listening for movement, but he could have sworn that he could hear the sound of an engine idling somewhere nearby. Thinking that it was just his hopeful ear being mean to him, he took rest briefly against a tree. From where he leaned with his back against the trunk and his legs folded under him in a crouched position, he surveyed his surroundings.

With no light whatsoever, Don was practically blind as he stretched his eyes to see into the blackness. As his sight adapted to the dark, he saw something in the distance. Narrowing his eyes to see better, he discerned two tiny red specs floating stationary in the dark. Again the occasionally calming rainfall allowed for him to hear the engine again.

At once it hit Don like a hammer. “Holy shit! It’s the van! Oh please don’t be dead. Don’t be dead, guys!” he gasped, forcing his weary body to scamper for the red lights. He barely made it past a ditch he did not see, falling like a fallen tree as his ankle twisted under him.

“David!” he cried, unworried about being heard by enemies or snake-haired women. “David! Over here!”

From the darkness nearby a rustle of leaves announced the approach of footsteps. Too tired to care, Don just held his ankle and waited. From the wet night, a sharp beam of white light darted all over the place, lighting up tree bark, leaves, branches, weeds and falling droplets as it grew brighter. It fell on Don’s face, and he gladly stared into the painful sting of the glary light. His heart throbbed with elation as he recognized the sweet voice of Dr. Nina Gould in the cold black ahead of him.

“Nina!” he called.

“Aye! We’re coming, Don. I can see you,” she answered, sounding better than the crisp hiss of a popped beer bottle cap.

“Thank God!” he panted. “I thought you had left already.”

They picked him up, flinging his arms over their shoulders. “We were leaving, but Nina asked me to stay a while longer, just in case,” Purdue smiled. “And here you are.”

Nina did not ask for Costa, the true reason she had asked Purdue to wait for a while. As they approached the minivan and she glanced back into the emptiness, a feeling of depression gripped her as she realized that Costa had been lost to her.