chamber where the wall had been moments before. It was the single greatest discovery in history, more momentous than the cave paintings the Cro-Magnon left in France thirty millennia earlier. It changed everything.
The clean white light emanated from the room’s ceiling, clearly illuminating the brilliant hieroglyphs lining every wall. Unlike the others, these were quicksilver, each symbol flowing and alive. Seven sarcophagi radiated around the room from a central point, each a pure block of glass inset with rubies and emeralds and diamonds. Pulses of light flowed between the gems in straight angles.
Only one sarcophagus was occupied, yet Blair couldn’t make out much about the occupant. Darkness ate at the edges of his vision. His heartbeat had slowed, awarding a grudging beat every few moments. Every breath was a battle, a ragged gasp for whatever oxygen he could find.
“My God,” Sheila said, staggering toward the sarcophagus. She planted her palms against the glass, ignoring the pulses of light that flowed around her. “It’s not possible. She’s breathing. This woman is alive.”
Blair fought for another breath, but this time his lungs refused to obey. He waited for another thud, but his heart was stubbornly silent. He wasn’t a medical doctor, but he didn’t need to be to understand the darkening of his vision. Blair was dying, poisoned by whatever the statue had done.
“Blair? Blaaair!” Bridget screamed.
Chapter 12- Blair’s Dead
Jordan compartmentalized the situation, allowing his training to take over in the face of the incomprehensible. He knelt swiftly, laying Smith on the ground just outside the chamber they’d discovered. Blair’s eyes were closed, his chest unmoving. Jordan feared the worst. He applied two fingers to the man’s throat, giving a long count to ten. Nothing.
“Yuri, get the scientists topside. Radio HQ and tell the director we’re initiating containment protocol. We need a team here ASAP,” he barked, shrugging out of his windbreaker and laying it gently over Smith’s limp body.
“What are you doing?” Bridget shrieked, dropping beside him and yanking the jacket away. “Blair? Blair, can you hear me?” She shook the man, but there was no response.
“Yuri,” Jordan barked, shooting the man a glare.
The beefy Russian gathered Bridget in a tight grip, hauling the woman to her feet and away from the body. She resisted violently, fists beating against Yuri’s chest as she raged. “Let me go. You can’t do this!”
“He might still be alive,” Sheila pleaded, eyes shining with unshed tears. “There might be something we can do.”
“You know there isn’t,” Jordan countered, replacing the windbreaker. Smith deserved some peace. “We have no idea what killed him, but make no mistake. This man is dead. I understand he was a friend and colleague, but that doesn’t change my job. I have to protect the rest of the team. Whatever killed him could be contagious.”
“Then we’re all exposed.” Sheila roared, balling her fists. “We should all be quarantined, which means there’s no reason not to stay down here and see if we can do anything for Blair.”
“You can’t just give up on him,” Bridget said, finally calming. Yuri still held her, but his grip had relaxed.
“We don’t have a choice,” Jordan replied, shaking his head. “The radiation was bad down here before. Opening that chamber dramatically increased it. Right now we’re facing an unknown threat, and that calls for a tactical retreat. We’ll have a containment team here in twelve hours, and then we can find some answers.”
“Blair will be dead by then,” Bridget said, eyes flashing. It was the first time Jordan had seen her truly angry. She hadn’t shown nearly so much emotion for Doctor Galk.
“He’s dead now. I understand you don’t agree with my decision. I don’t care. You can grieve topside,” he said, seizing Sheila by the arm. He shoved her toward the ramp leading
The clean white light emanated from the room’s ceiling, clearly illuminating the brilliant hieroglyphs lining every wall. Unlike the others, these were quicksilver, each symbol flowing and alive. Seven sarcophagi radiated around the room from a central point, each a pure block of glass inset with rubies and emeralds and diamonds. Pulses of light flowed between the gems in straight angles.
Only one sarcophagus was occupied, yet Blair couldn’t make out much about the occupant. Darkness ate at the edges of his vision. His heartbeat had slowed, awarding a grudging beat every few moments. Every breath was a battle, a ragged gasp for whatever oxygen he could find.
“My God,” Sheila said, staggering toward the sarcophagus. She planted her palms against the glass, ignoring the pulses of light that flowed around her. “It’s not possible. She’s breathing. This woman is alive.”
Blair fought for another breath, but this time his lungs refused to obey. He waited for another thud, but his heart was stubbornly silent. He wasn’t a medical doctor, but he didn’t need to be to understand the darkening of his vision. Blair was dying, poisoned by whatever the statue had done.
“Blair? Blaaair!” Bridget screamed.
Chapter 12- Blair’s Dead
Jordan compartmentalized the situation, allowing his training to take over in the face of the incomprehensible. He knelt swiftly, laying Smith on the ground just outside the chamber they’d discovered. Blair’s eyes were closed, his chest unmoving. Jordan feared the worst. He applied two fingers to the man’s throat, giving a long count to ten. Nothing.
“Yuri, get the scientists topside. Radio HQ and tell the director we’re initiating containment protocol. We need a team here ASAP,” he barked, shrugging out of his windbreaker and laying it gently over Smith’s limp body.
“What are you doing?” Bridget shrieked, dropping beside him and yanking the jacket away. “Blair? Blair, can you hear me?” She shook the man, but there was no response.
“Yuri,” Jordan barked, shooting the man a glare.
The beefy Russian gathered Bridget in a tight grip, hauling the woman to her feet and away from the body. She resisted violently, fists beating against Yuri’s chest as she raged. “Let me go. You can’t do this!”
“He might still be alive,” Sheila pleaded, eyes shining with unshed tears. “There might be something we can do.”
“You know there isn’t,” Jordan countered, replacing the windbreaker. Smith deserved some peace. “We have no idea what killed him, but make no mistake. This man is dead. I understand he was a friend and colleague, but that doesn’t change my job. I have to protect the rest of the team. Whatever killed him could be contagious.”
“Then we’re all exposed.” Sheila roared, balling her fists. “We should all be quarantined, which means there’s no reason not to stay down here and see if we can do anything for Blair.”
“You can’t just give up on him,” Bridget said, finally calming. Yuri still held her, but his grip had relaxed.
“We don’t have a choice,” Jordan replied, shaking his head. “The radiation was bad down here before. Opening that chamber dramatically increased it. Right now we’re facing an unknown threat, and that calls for a tactical retreat. We’ll have a containment team here in twelve hours, and then we can find some answers.”
“Blair will be dead by then,” Bridget said, eyes flashing. It was the first time Jordan had seen her truly angry. She hadn’t shown nearly so much emotion for Doctor Galk.
“He’s dead now. I understand you don’t agree with my decision. I don’t care. You can grieve topside,” he said, seizing Sheila by the arm. He shoved her toward the ramp leading
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