The Atlantis Plague (The Origin Mystery 2)

“The others?”

“One of them is a killer and a traitor. We leave them down here. We have to put some distance between us. It’s the only way to secure you.”

Kate followed David through the tunnel.

The catacombs reminded her of the stone passages Martin had led her through below Marbella. In fact, the small town of Rabat itself reminded her a great deal of Marbella: both of them had Muslim and Christian influences and deserted Mediterranean stone streets.

Kate felt as though a memory were just out of reach—the conclusion of her old life, the balance of the truth of what had happened at Gibraltar. Yet she felt like if she allowed it to come in, the last of her would flow out. And she would lose David. To her, the memory uncovered was the greatest enemy down here, but she knew David was right: a killer lurked in one of the other tunnels.

CHAPTER 85

CDC

Atlanta, Georgia

Dr. Paul Brenner slowly opened the door to his nephew’s private hospital room.

The boy lay still. Panic ran through Paul.

A second passed, and Matthew’s chest rose slightly.

A breath.

Paul gently pulled the door closed.

“Uncle Paul!” Matthew called as he rolled over and coughed.

“Hey, Matt. I was just checking on you.”

“Where’s Mom?”

“Your mother’s… still helping me with something.”

“When can I see her?”

Paul froze, not sure what to say. “Soon,” he mumbled absently.

Matthew sat up and broke into another fit of coughing, spraying tiny specks of blood onto his hand.

Paul stared at the droplets of blood that slowly began to flow across the boy’s hand, coalescing into small ravines of red.

Matthew eyed it, then wiped his hand on his shirt.

Paul grabbed his arm. “Don’t wipe it—just… wait, I’m going to get a nurse.” He rose and fled the room. He heard Matthew call to him, but Paul was already out of the room, walking quickly. He couldn’t watch, couldn’t stay in the room another second. I’m finally breaking, losing it, he thought.

He wanted to go to his office, lock the door, and wait until the whole thing, the whole world was over.

His assistant rose at the sight of him. “Dr. Brenner, you have a message—”

He waved his hand at her as he quickly paced past. “No messages, Clara.”

“It’s from the World Health Organization,” she said. She held up two pieces of paper. “And another from British intelligence.”

Paul snatched the pages out of her hand and read them quickly. Then he read them again. He turned and stumbled into his office, his eyes still on the pages. What does it mean?

He closed the door and quickly dialed Kate Warner. The sat phone didn’t ring. Straight to voicemail. Was it off? Out of reception?

“Kate, it’s Paul. Uh, Brenner.” Of course she knew which “Paul.” Somehow even leaving a message for Kate Warner made him nervous. “Look, I heard from my contact at WHO. It seems there’s no record of a Dr. Arthur Janus. And I also heard from British intelligence. They have no agents named Adam Shaw. They even checked the classified records.” He paused, not sure what to add. “I hope you’re okay, Kate.”

Dorian slammed the helicopter door and watched the hordes of swarming people grow smaller as he and his special ops team rose above Valletta.

“What’s our destination, sir?” the pilot called back to him.

Dorian pulled out his phone. No messages.

“They went west,” he shouted. “We’ll have to look for their helicopter. Try the cities first.”

In the catacombs of St. Paul, below the city of Rabat, Kamau walked in front of Janus. The tall African led the way with an assault rifle. The beam from the flashlight he’d strapped to the gun barely illuminated the wide tunnel. The glow from the lantern Janus carried behind him didn’t help much.

“Where are you from, Mr. Kamau?” Janus asked quietly.

Kamau hesitated, then said, “Africa.”

“What part?”

Another pause, as if Kamau didn’t want to answer. “Kenya, outside Nairobi. Now we should—”

“Near the birthplace of the modern human race. I think it only fitting that we should have someone from east Africa on our expedition, hunting for the one African that changed history, who set humanity on its course.”

Kamau turned back, shining the flashlight in Janus’s face. “We should remain silent.”

Janus held a hand up to shield his eyes. “Very well.”

In another part of the catacombs, Dr. Shen Chang walked just ahead of Adam Shaw. The British soldier had made Chang walk first. “For safety,” Shaw had said.

Chang stopped and swung the lantern back to face Shaw.

“Are you recording our path?” Chang asked.

“And leaving breadcrumbs, Doctor. Keep moving.”

The lantern light only half-illuminated Shaw’s face, and in that instant Chang thought the man, who was likely in his early thirties, momentarily appeared much younger.

The face—that younger face—Chang knew it. Where had he seen it?

Years, decades ago. Right after he had delivered Kate from her mother’s body, from the tubes.

In the memory, Howard Keegan, the Director of Clocktower and one of two members of the Immari council, sat behind a massive oak desk in his office. Chang fidgeted nervously in the chair across from him.

“I want you to do a thorough exam of the boy you extracted from the tube. His name is Dieter Kane, but we call him Dorian Sloane now. He’s having some trouble getting… acclimated.”

“Is he—”

Keegan pointed his finger at Chang. “You tell me what’s wrong with him, Doctor. Don’t overlook anything. Just give him a full workup and come back here, understand?”

When Chang had finished the examination, he returned to Keegan’s office, taking the same seat in front of the gargantuan desk. He unfolded his pad and began making his report. A few significant scars on his lower back and bu**ocks, indicative of past severe corporal punishment, perhaps two or three years before present. Physically, quite fit. Two centimeters taller than the average for his age. Several recent bruises, likely connected… Chang looked up. “Do you suspect abuse?”

“No, for God’s sake, Doctor! He’s the abuser. What the hell is wrong with him?”

“I’m afraid I don’t—”

“Listen to me. Sixty years ago, when he went into that tube, he was the sweetest kid in the world. When he came out, he was as mean as a damn snake. He’s a borderline sociopath. That tube did something to him, Doctor, and I want to know what it is.”