Chapter 44 - Descent into the Bone Vaults
The hollow thud of bullets hammering against the reinforced iron-banded door reverberated down the spiral stone steps. With each impact, iron dust drifted down like toxic snow.
"That door won't hold long," Clara breathed heavily, shifting Maya to her other hip. "They have breaching charges. We have maybe three minutes."
"Three minutes is enough," I said, catching Lily as she stumbled on the slippery, moss-slick steps. "The lower ossuary connects to the old Roman aqueduct. If we reach the sluice gates beneath the riverbed, their numbers won't matter. The tunnels are too narrow for organized fireteams."
We descended rapidly into the subterranean gloom. The air grew frigid, thick with the stench of stagnant water, wet lime, and centuries of decaying limestone. Thousands of human skulls and femurs were stacked in geometric patterns along the walls—relics of the medieval plague pits upon which the cathedral was erected.
"Daddy, I'm scared," Lily whispered, her teeth chattering from the damp cold.
"I know, sweetheart," I said, pulling my jacket off and wrapping it snugly around her shivering shoulders. "Look at me. Look at Maya. We are together, aren't we? As long as we keep moving, nobody can separate us."
Maya reached out a tiny, pale hand, touching Lily's cheek. "The bad man has the same eyes as Daddy," the little girl murmured softly. Her voice was still raspy from the respiratory tubes of the glass cradle, but her perception was terrifyingly sharp. "He smells like the cold glass."
Clara and I exchanged a chilling look. Maya had never seen Arthur, yet she recognized his aura—or perhaps Arthur had visited the covert facility where she had been kept in stasis. The realization made my stomach churn. Arthur hadn't merely monitored her confinement; he had orchestrated her preservation like a vintage wine, waiting for the exact moment to unseal the cask.
A dull, echoing *CRACK* shook the cavern ceiling above us. Dust and bits of ancient mortar showered down into our hair.
"They breached the door," Clara whispered, cocking her weapon. "They're coming down the spiral."
May you like
"Turn off the flashlights," I ordered.
Total darkness swallowed us. We pressed ourselves against the wall of bones, holding our breaths as the rhythmic, metallic clatter of combat boots began descending the spiral staircase above. Tactical flashlights cut through the upper darkness like sweeping white blades.
