A Baneful Bequest, Part 2 of 6
The previous installments: Part 1
"Get. The. Hell. Off!" Orion tried to throw the weapon away, but his hand wouldn't open. All he managed to do was lose his balance and fall to one knee on the rug.
"I was going to ask you to sit down," the voice said, cheerfully. It was much quieter than before. "But that's good enough."
A snap of pain shot through Orion's temples, and his vision went black.
...
Orion gasped as cold water doused his whole body, hammering down on him in sheets from above. His arms moved of their own accord and gripped smooth rock.
He felt himself climb into a small, dry tunnel, cut into the cliff face behind the waterfall. He shivered in the chill air, and moved a few feet farther into the tunnel.
What the hell is going on? he thought, wildly. Am I dreaming? It felt like a dream. He couldn't control his movements, and five seconds earlier he'd been kneeling on the rug in his grandfather's office. He felt a moment of sheer panic as he tried to move his body and nothing happened.
Not exactly. Calm down! You're safe. A wave of soothing warmth washed over Orion, and he felt the panic subside slightly. You're in my memory, the voice said in a hushed tone. I'm showing you who I am. Sorry for the rough ride; I don't have much practice with this.
A moment later Orion was joined in the tunnel by a young man wearing a khaki uniform, carrying a fat-barreled black submachine gun of a kind he didn't immediately recognize.
"I'll lead," the man whispered, duck-walking past Orion's host. He pulled a flashlight from a rubberized pouch at his waist and clicked it on, dimly illuminating the tunnel ahead.
Do you recognize him? the voice asked.
Should I?
Perhaps not.
The voice was silent as Orion followed the other man down the tunnel. He soon felt an ache growing in his knees and back, and wished he was in control so he could stop and stretch for a bit.
The man ahead switched off his flashlight and stopped. Orion heard him whisper over his shoulder, "There's light ahead. I think we're almost there."
Soon the tunnel widened, and opened into a deep cavern at least thirty yards across. The light was coming from greasy tallow candles stuck all around the walls, and a spiral ramp ran down to the right, tracing around the cavern wall until it met the cavern floor ten stories below.
What Orion saw at the bottom made him gasp. Thirty robed figures stood in concentric circles around a crude stone altar. They swayed in eerie silence, eyes fixed on their leader standing at the altar. On the altar, there was a woman in white robes, unbound, gazing dreamily at the ceiling. Her chest was bared, and a curved sword lay beside her.
There was little doubt what would happen next: a pile of bloody, pale-skinned corpses in bloodstained white robes was carelessly stacked outside the circle of robed figures.
The other man had figured it out too, and he actually growled quietly before speaking. "Not this time," he whispered, then spoke to Orion's host. "I'm going to sneak down there; you cover me up here. When I give you the signal, start shooting. If you can keep them distracted I can probably get most of them before they notice me."
Orion felt himself nod, then edged a bit closer. His blood froze as the apparent leader of the cultists below picked up the sword and held the tip over the woman's bare breastbone like a giant ice pick.
"Too late," he felt himself whisper, nodding his head toward the scene and raising his Thompson.
The other man cursed vehemently, rummaged in another pouch, and threw something over the edge as Orion saw the Thompson's front sight settle on the sword-wielder's chest.
Thanks for reading. Part 3 will be up tomorrow evening.