The Judas Strain - James Rollins [194]
With a final twist, the bronze screw fell free of its socket. The weight caught them both by surprise, and the screw tumbled to the steps with a ringing clatter.
Kowalski came barreling up from below, carrying Susan. She hung limp. Kowalski’s face sank when he saw the door still closed. “What have you been doing?”
“Waiting for you,” Vigor said, and shoved the slab.
No longer screwed tight, the door toppled outward, crashing to the stone. Sunlight burst forth, reflecting off the stone all around. Lisa could barely see as she stumbled out with Vigor, making room for Kowalski and Susan.
Kowalski groused as he ducked through. “I thought Seichan said she tried pushing. Damn those scrawny arms of hers.”
Straightening, Lisa blinked away the glare, realizing that they were at the bottom of a deep stone well, ten feet wide. The sheer walls stretched two stories high. No way up.
Kowalski lowered Susan to one side of the door. “Doc, I don’t think she’s breathing.”
Reminded of her duty, Lisa rushed to his side. She’d had her fill of death for one day. She dropped beside Susan and checked for a pulse. She didn’t find one. Still, Lisa refused to give up.
“Someone help me,” she called.
Gray and Seichan fell through the door next, hobbling together. Gray noted her examination. “Lisa…she’s dead.”
“No. Not without a fight first.”
“I’ll help you,” Seichan mumbled.
As she hobbled over, Lisa noticed blood seeping through the woman’s blouse, through her pants, fresh and wet.
Seichan noted her attention. “I’m fine.”
Gray warned them to keep as quiet as possible—in case any of Nasser’s men were nearby. He also waved everyone away from the doorway. His face and arms were blistered and raw. The whites of his eyes were a solid blood red.
On the other side of the doorway, Lisa began cardiac compressions while Seichan performed mouth-to-mouth. Vigor stood nearby, crossing a blessing over Susan.
“Those better not be last rites,” Lisa whispered, keeping her elbows locked as she compressed.
Vigor shook his head. “Just a prayer for—”
The bomb blasted with a clap of thunder, shuddering the ground underfoot. A wash of foul air shot out from below, a poisonous exhalation still ripe with caustic fumes and a blast of heat.
Lisa leaned over Susan.
The worst of it all plumed up the shaft and away.
“That wasn’t too bad,” Kowalski said.
Gray continued staring high. “Everybody hold tight.”
Lisa glanced up as she pumped her arms on Susan’s chest.
To the left, the top half of the Bayon’s center spire could be seen. Stone faces gazed back down at them. All of them were shaking.
“It’s coming down!” Gray said.
12:16 P.M.
NASSER FLED WITH six of his men, racing across the second tier’s courtyard. Every step was agony. His entire body continued to burn, as if the hellish woman were still clutched to him. But he had a more immediate concern.
He glanced back as he ducked behind a gallery wall.
The Bayon tower trembled—then in an oddly slow fashion, it collapsed in on itself, imploding and dropping a quarter of its height with a rumble of stone. The death rattle of a hundred bodhisattvas. Stone dust flumed around the collapsed pile, shooting high. More rocks continued to bounce and roll, chattering down the mountainside.
His demolition expert had warned against the size of the charge, warned this might happen. But Nasser could not risk Commander Pierce escaping with the prize.
As he turned away he noted a second plume of smoky dust, rising off to the side. It twisted up like a gray smoke signal.
Nasser’s eyes narrowed.
Did it mark another exit to the cavern?
12:17 P.M.
GRAY CHOKED ON the dust, barely able to see anyone else in the confined space of the well. The tower had crashed, collapsing into its foundations and crushing the cavern below. An acidic wash of smoke and dust jetted outward, spiraling up the well’s throat.
Gray wiped his eyes and twisted around. He searched back through the doorway. Boulders filled the steep stairway, its ceiling collapsed.
Gray leaned his shoulder against the wall and stared up. The north wall