The cavern was quiet. Too quiet. Maddock knew all the Trident’s men had not fled when the Watchers came to life. The rest were still here, hunkered down, waiting to resume the assault.
That was not good. Up to this point their attack had been disorganized, and that had worked to his and Bones’ advantage. The men had been too fearful for their own lives, too cognizant of their own mortality, to commit to full-out onslaught. They had moved around, putting a heap of bullets in the air, hoping to take him and Bones out without fully engaging. Now, with their ammunition dwindling, a full-scale attack would put an end to things.
“I’m out,” Bones whispered from somewhere close by. “Got any ideas?”
“The giants are gone!” a voice rang out. “Charge the ark!”
“That’s it,” Bones said. “Dima, can you bring them back?”
“I couldn’t control them,” came her frightened voice. “I’m sorry. The stone was so powerful. It was just too much for me.”
The stone! Perhaps it wasn’t over yet.
“Bones, take my Walther. I’ve got four bullets left.” Maddock held the weapon out in the direction of Bones’ voice and felt his friend’s hand close on it.
“What have you got up your sleeve?” Bones asked.
“A Hail Mary.”
Maddock ducked as the Trident’s men opened fire again. He dug into his pocket and took out his Noah Stone, the Templar Stone, and pressed it hard into his palm.
From his spot in the bow of the ark, he reached out with his thoughts, searching for water.
It was all around them. It flowed through tiny cracks in the stone up above, seeping down into the pools they had seen before. It moved downward to an underground river far below them. It was there if Maddock could only make use of it.
He tuned out the sounds of battle, trusting Bones to keep them alive just a little bit longer, and concentrated with all his might.
Pressure, like invisible hands, closed in on him. His head spun as the breath was slowly squeezed from his body. He felt the water, he called to it, but would it heed him as it had done for Noah so many thousands of years ago?
More gunshots, more footsteps coming closer. Time had almost run out.
It began with a trickle.
A few fat drops fell on his face. All around came the drip drop of falling water, quickly rising to a thunderous crescendo like a thousand storms.
Confused shouts rose from the attackers, followed by a sharp command to keep going.
Maddock opened his eyes.
A lightning-sharp crackle split the air as the ceiling shattered and a torrent like waterfall gushed down from above.
The bullets stopped flying. Lights flickered on as the surviving men tried to comprehend what was happening. Nearby, Bones had dropped the Walter and was struggling to crawl back toward the stone steps atop which Dima waited. Beneath him the mountain of wood that was the remains of the ark shifted as, piece by piece, the surging waters began to carry it away.
Down in the chamber below, Maddock sensed the pool rising, slowly filling the massive space, spinning in a wicked maelstrom. The Trident’s men were now in full retreat. Maddock watched the bobbing lights as some ran and some were swept toward the whirling maw down below. Beneath his feet, the ark began to break apart and he felt himself falling.
“Maddock, you’ve got to stop it!” Bones called above din.
“I know!” he shouted. But could he?
Once again he pressed the stone into his hand, letting the blood flow across its smooth surface. Once again, he reached out with everything he had, everything he was, and found the water. This time, he pushed back against the surging force of nature.
It was like trying to hold back the tide. Pushed forward by its natural momentum and drawn along by the hands of gravity, the water above them continued to pour down upon them. Maddock’s mind was battered by the resistance to his efforts as surely as the falling water pounded his body. The ark continued to crumble and he fell hard, and began to slide. It was hopeless. He couldn’t overcome the force of nature.
But the stone could. He needed to find another way.
He couldn’t close the broken ceiling above them, but perhaps he could redirect the flow. He cast his mind out, following the water through the twists and turns as it flowed through the broken magma, through the bedrock, and back to its source in the lake far above them.
Find another way.
The lava tubes! The mountain was filled with them. With the full force of his will he drove the water toward the hollow spaces beneath Ol Doinyo Lengai. He pressed it into the tiniest fissures, through the soft earth, through the tiniest crevasses.
As he pushed, the pressure seemed to rebound on him tenfold. He stopped sliding across the floor, held fast by an unseen force. Water sluiced over and around him filling his mouth and nostrils. Heavy planks from the shattered ark pounded his body. He struggled for breath, fought to push the water from his lungs, but he could not.
If these are my last moments on earth, I’m going to make them count.
He poured his last drops of strength and will, paltry as they were, into the effort.
And he felt it.
At its headway, the water broke through. It poured into the lava tubes and flowed back into the heart of the volcano, boiling, hissing, and steaming as it met the inferno deep in the heart of the earth. Fire and water, forever at war.
The downpour abated, slowing to a steady drizzle. Maddock rolled over, pushed himself up onto all fours, and vomited a small pond onto the smooth stone. He sucked in a deep, wet breath, relishing the sweet oxygen that filled his lungs. Slowly, the pressure subsided, the fatigue drained away, and he staggered to his feet.
The ark was gone. All that remained was a tangle of wood partially blocking the passageway through which they had come. He turned around, eyes searching for Bones, and spotted him standing at the base of the steps, looking up.
Maddock took one step and then froze.
Tyson stood in the alcove where Noah’s body lay. He had one arm around Dima’s waist and a gun pressed to her temple.
“It’s over,” Tyson said. “Give me the stones.”