Herculean (Cerberus Group Book 1) (29 page)

46

Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming, USA

For as long as she could remember, Yellowstone National Park had been one of those places that Fiona knew she would have to visit someday. If she had been a little older, she might have called it a ‘bucket list’ item.

Guess I’ll get to cross it off before I die
, she thought.

Her knowledge of the park was piecemeal. She knew about the grizzly bears that roamed the forest, and knew that you weren’t supposed to feed them. She knew about the geysers, especially Old Faithful, which spewed superheated steam on a schedule you could set your watch by, though she also recalled hearing that it wasn’t as ‘faithful’ as it once had been. She knew that scientists were worried about a super-volcano underneath the park, a gigantic underground bubble of magma, which in addition to boiling the water for the geysers, was also going to erupt any day and bury half the United States in ash—or maybe it wouldn’t happen for a hundred thousand years. All of these things were interesting to her, but there were a lot of places in the world that she wanted to visit, and she knew she would get there eventually. Yellowstone was practically in her back yard, after all.

But this was
not
how she wanted to see it.

When she had identified a particular set of Phaistos symbols on the map’s border, which combined to form the phrase ‘the land of the god ruling the dead,’ and crossed at a point near the center of the ancient depiction of North America, she did not immediately grasp that the spot fell within the boundaries of the world’s first national park. Midwestern geography had never been her strong suit.

But Tyndareus had known exactly where it was without needing to consult a more current map. “Yes. That is the place. We shall leave immediately.”

Within the hour, the old man, along with his entire staff, including Nurse Wretched, had loaded up and headed out. Fiona had been blindfolded for the drive, so she had no idea where they had left from. When the blindfold was removed, she found herself in the passenger cabin of a medium-sized jet. It was larger than the Herculean Society’s Gulfstream, with rows of seats like a regular commercial airliner, but she and the Cerberus team were the only passengers. Tyndareus had evidently chartered a plane to take them to their destination, which explained how they had been able to avoid airport security and nagging questions about the identity of a blindfolded hostage.

The flight was long, but the food was significantly better than the fare she had been fed so far, and the regularity with which it was served helped her mark the passage of time. Shortly after the fifth meal—somewhere between ten and fifteen hours after leaving the Cerberus facility, if her estimation was correct—she was brought to Tyndareus.

“We will be landing in a few hours,” he said, his manner as offhand as his age and its associated afflictions would allow. “Then we will drive to the coordinates you supplied. Unfortunately, the map is of such a scale that the target area is more than a hundred square miles. Hardly an ideal situation, wouldn’t you agree?”

Fiona shrugged. “It’s the best I could do with what you gave me.”

“Mmmm. Yes.” He tented his fingers in front of his face. “I’ve just heard from Mr. Rohn. As you predicted, the Amazon yielded nothing of substance, though we did find evidence to support both your interpretation of the map and Dr. Kenner’s underlying premise.” He paused a beat, then added, “He also reported to me that Dr. Gallo made an ill-advised attempt to escape.”

The news caught Fiona off-guard. She almost said, ‘Good for her,’ but Tyndareus had also used the word
attempt
. “Is she okay?”

A faint smile curled the old man’s lips. “She took a foolish risk with your life, child. I was quite clear about the consequences of such an action. Now, she’s put me in a rather awkward position. You have become far more valuable to me as a resource than as a hostage, yet I cannot let this rebellion go unpunished. I am a man of my word.”

“Bullshit!”

Tyndareus flinched under the verbal assault. Out of the corner of her eye, Fiona saw the goons moving to defend their boss, but she was done playing nice. “Aunt Gus only cooperated with you because you threatened to hurt me, and then as soon as she was gone, you used me as a lab rat. You planned to kill us both right from the start, so don’t even talk to me about keeping your word.”

Tyndareus’s weird blue eyes flashed dangerously. “You will not pay the price for her mistakes, child, but be assured, she will most certainly pay for yours, so choose your words with greater care.”

The threat stopped Fiona’s rising ire cold. She bit back another retort. “Fine. I’m sorry.”

“Do you need a demonstration? Shall I have Mr. Rohn bring us one of her hands? I will let you choose which. Left or right?”

“I said, I’m sorry,” Fiona replied through clenched teeth. She was pretty sure that the old man was just trying to make a point, but what if he was serious? “I’ll help you.”

The silence that followed quickly grew uncomfortable, prompting Fiona to raise her eyes to him once more.

“I trust you understand how vital it is that you cooperate with me,” he said. “For your own safety and Dr. Gallo’s.” He watched her for a moment, a lopsided smile making a brief appearance. “The map coordinates you gave us are not precise enough. I need to know if there is any other information on the map that can narrow our search parameters. Perhaps something that you have been intentionally withholding from me.”

Fiona felt a chill shoot through her veins.
He knows about the Mother Tongue. But how? Did Aunt Gus let something slip? Did that animal Rohn torture her? Or is Tyndareus bluffing again?

Two can play that game.

“The writing on that map is a form of Linear A, the language of the Minoan culture, which lived almost four thousand years ago.” Her voice was terse, as if weary of explaining herself. “If you think I’m holding back, go hire somebody else to read it. Oh, that’s right.
Nobody
knows how to read it. Half of what I did was guesswork. The other half was luck.”

She took a breath, held it a moment then went on in a more conciliatory tone. “I do know this. The ancient Minoans used language as a way of protecting their secrets from the unworthy. They left signs in the Labyrinth as a test. If you could read the signs, you could find your way out. If not, you’d wander around forever. They probably left similar signs pointing the way to the Underworld.”

“You think we’ll find these signs once we get there?”

She nodded. “Actual, literal road markers that only someone who reads Linear A would recognize.”

This seemed to satisfy Tyndareus. He made a shooing motion, signaling that the audience was at an end.

That had been eight hours ago. Their flight had arrived in Montana in the middle of the night. She identified the state by the license plates on the convoy of vehicles waiting for them on the tarmac. She was ushered into one, along with two of the Cerberus goons. She didn’t recognize the driver, a big guy with a shaved head and what she assumed were prison tattoos on his neck. He looked like a biker or a recruit from the local Aryan Nations chapter. There were two vans and a larger Ryder truck, each with a pair of White Power dudes, which brought the total size of the Cerberus contingent to fourteen, not counting Tyndareus and Nurse Wretched. The latter pair rode in a different vehicle.

It was only when she saw road signs with the mileage to the park that Fiona finally realized where they were going.

The passing scenery reminded Fiona of the Mt. Hood National Forest, near where she had grown up. It was not just the natural landscape, but also the towns, which had a sort of faux rustic charm. Window dressing for the tourists.

They passed beneath the stone arch at the North Entrance as dawn was lightening the sky, and continued into the park on the Grand Loop Road. Not long thereafter, Fiona noticed a change in the scenery. She did not need a map to see that they were entering geyser country.

Vents of steam erupting from the earth. Pools of boiling acidic water. Bubbling cauldrons of mud. Exactly the sort of place to find a doorway into Hell
, she thought.

About half an hour later, the convoy pulled to the side of the road. “What’s going on?” Fiona asked. She did not get a direct answer. Instead, the goons got out and told her to follow.

When the door opened, she got a whiff of sulfur that made her eyes water. The next thing she noticed was the heat. The thin, high-altitude air felt cool when she breathed in, yet the pavement underfoot radiated heat like a parking lot in the dead of summer, so much so that she dared not stand still for too long.

The Cerberus men walked her to the van in the lead, where Tyndareus was riding. The front row of passenger seats had been removed to accommodate his wheelchair, which was anchored to the floor with nylon tie-downs.

“This is as close to our destination as the road will take us,” he told her. “My men will move out on foot, looking for the signs that you promised we would find.”

“I don’t know if I would use the word
promised
.”

“What should they be looking for?” Tyndareus asked, ignoring the comment.

“Phaistos symbols, like on the map.”

“Where?”

She shrugged. “Carved on rocks. Like petroglyphs.”

Tyndareus turned to his nearest associate. “You heard her. Begin the search. Instruct the men to send photographs of anything they discover.”

“Am I going to have to go out there?” Fiona asked.

“I would prefer you remain here with me,” Tyndareus replied. “That way, you can verify anything my men discover.”

“Whatever.” Though she was somewhat relieved by the fact that she would not have to venture out into the alien landscape, hanging out with Tyndareus was not much better. But as she watched the Cerberus men—all but the two who had been assigned to watch over her—move out across the blasted terrain, she realized that she might never get a better chance to escape. All she would have to do was ditch Nurse Wretched and the two goons, and flag down a passing car. It would be that easy.

Except she knew that it wouldn’t. And there were other considerations as well. Tyndareus had made it clear that Gallo would pay dearly for any display of resistance.

He’s going to kill us both
, she thought.
Even if he gets what he wants
.

She knew it was true, just as she knew that Gallo would never want her to cooperate with Tyndareus just to buy her a brief reprieve. Being part of the Herculean Society meant being willing to sacrifice everything to preserve those ancient secrets, to keep them out of the wrong hands. Fiona had already given Tyndareus too much, brought him too close. She couldn’t wait any longer.

One by one, the searchers disappeared into the roiling convection waves or dropped behind terrain features that eclipsed them from her view. She settled back into her chair, biding her time, counting the cars that passed by. Traffic was light, but she suspected that it would increase as the day progressed. Tyndareus might be willing to kill a lone Good Samaritan stopping to help a running girl, but she doubted he would do so in front of dozens of witnesses. He had not evaded capture for more than seventy years by being reckless.

A silver sedan passed the parked vehicles a few minutes later, slowing as if the driver was curious.

Too soon
, she thought. But she could not afford to pass up an opportunity.

Without moving, she calculated the distance to the door, rehearsing the sequence of moves that would be required to unlock it, open it and hit the ground running. The guards would make a grab for her. She would have to be ready for that. Fiona shifted in her chair, stretching casually, as she readied herself.

On your mark
…

The sedan stopped and pulled off the road, right in front of them.

Get set
…

The door opened and the driver got out. It was Rohn.

As the big man strode along the roadside to the van, Fiona slumped back, her enthusiasm extinguished. She had come within a heartbeat of making a fatal mistake, one that would not only get her killed, but also…

She sat up again. “Where’s Aunt Gus?”

“In a secure place,” Tyndareus said, without looking at her. “Safe, as long as you continue to behave.”

The door opened and Rohn climbed in, taking a seat alongside Fiona. She shied away, as if his mere proximity was revolting to her, but he remained indifferent to her. Tyndareus did not overtly acknowledge Rohn’s presence, nor did Rohn seem to expect any greeting.

Only now did Fiona see the cuts on his face and hands, swollen flesh, exposed sutures stained with antiseptic, crusted with dried blood and oozing fluid. He looked like he’d gone toe-to-toe with a weed whacker and lost.

Did Aunt Gus do that? If so, good for her. No wonder Tyndareus is pissed
.

As the initial shock of Rohn’s arrival wore off, she resumed plotting her escape. It would be harder with the big man right beside her, but she would have to find a way. If she did not make her move soon…