Seven Ancient Wonders - Matthew Reilly [25]
Wizard arrives at West’s side, beholds the terrible scene.
‘Oh my God, we’re too late,’ he breathes.
West stands quickly.
‘It was del Piero,’ he says. ‘With French paratroopers.’
‘The Vatican and the French have joined forces . . .’ Wizard gasps.
But West has already raised a pressure-gun and fires it into the lowering ceiling of the chamber. The piton drives into the stone. A rope hangs from it.
‘What on Earth are you doing?’ Wizard asks, alarmed.
‘I’m going over there,’ West says. ‘I said I’d be there for her and I failed. But I’m not going to let her get crushed to nothing.’
And with that, he swings across the gaping chasm.
The ceiling keeps lowering.
The lava keeps spreading across the floor from either side, approaching the altar.
But with his quick swing, West beats it, and he rushes to the middle of the chamber, where he stands over the body of the woman.
A quick pulse-check reveals that she is dead.
West squeezes his eyes shut.
‘I’m so sorry, Malena . . .’ he whispers, ‘ . . . so sorry.’
‘Jack! Hurry!’ Wizard calls from the balcony. ‘The lava!’
The lava is eight metres away . . . and closing on him from both sides.
Over at the main entrance, a waterfall of oozing lava pours out of a rectangular hole above the doorway, forming a curtain across the exit.
West places his hand on the woman’s face, closes her eyes. She is still warm. His gaze sweeps down her body, over the sagging skin of her abdomen, the skin over her pregnant belly now rumpled with the removal of the child formerly there.
Then for some reason, West touches her belly.
And feels a tiny little kick.
He leaps back, startled.
‘Max!’ he calls. ‘Get over here! Now!’
A gruesome yet urgent image: flanked by the encroaching lava and the steadily lowering ceiling, the two men perform a Caesarean delivery on the dead woman’s body using West’s Leatherman knife.
Thirty seconds later, Wizard lifts a second child from the woman’s slit-open womb.
It is a girl.
Her hair is pressed against her scalp, her body covered in blood and uterine fluid, her eyes squeezed shut.
West and Wizard, battered and dirty, two adventurers at the end of a long journey, gaze at her like two proud fathers.
West in particular gazes at the little infant, entranced.
‘Jack!’ Wizard says. ‘Come on! We have to get out of here.’
He turns to grab their loosely hanging rope—just as the spreading lava reaches it and ignites it with a whoosh!
No escape that way.
Holding the baby, West spins to face the main entrance.
Fifteen metres of inch-deep lava blocks the way.
And then there’s the curtain of falling lava blocking the doorway itself.
But then he sees it, cut into the left side of the stone doorframe: a small round hole maybe a handspan wide, veiled by the same waterfall of superheated lava.
West says, ‘How thick are your soles?’
‘Thick enough for a few seconds,’ Wizard replies. ‘But there’s no way to switch off that lavafall.’
‘Yes, there is,’ West nods over at the small hole. ‘See that hole. There’s a stone dial inside it, hidden behind that curtain of lava. A cease mechanism that switches off the lavafall.’
‘But, Jack, anyone who reaches in there will lose their—’
Wizard sees that West isn’t listening. The younger man is just staring intently at the wall-hole.
West bites his lip, thinking the unthinkable.
He swallows, then turns to Wizard: ‘Can you build me a new arm, Max?’
Wizard freezes.
He knows it’s the only way out of this place.
‘Jack. If you get us out of here, I promise you I’ll build you a better arm than the one you were born with.’
‘Then you carry her and let’s go.’ West hands the baby to Wizard.
And so they run, West in the lead, Wizard and the baby behind him, across the inch-deep pool of slowly spreading lava, crouching beneath the descending ceiling, the thick soles of their boots melting slightly with every stride.
Then they arrive at the lava-veiled doorway, and with no time to waste, West goes straight to the small hole next to the doorframe,