Chapter 6 - The Subterranean Vault
The sickening sound of bodies crashing down the narrow stone stairs echoed up through the darkness, followed by a heavy, final silence. Clara stood frozen at the landing, tears blinding her as another violent contraction brought her crashing to her knees.
""Marcus!"" she cried out into the black stairwell. No answer came.
Heavy tactical boots were pounding down the hallway toward her. ""Down this corridor! Clear the corners!"" a gruff voice barked.
Clara knew she had seconds. Gritting her teeth against the blinding pain tearing through her abdomen, she hauled herself up by the doorframe, slipped through the secret panel, and pulled the stone mirror mechanism shut. The lock engaged with a soft click just as flashlight beams swept over the wall outside.
She had to feel her way down the steps in total darkness. The air grew colder, damp with the smell of old stone and ancient earth. Halfway down, her foot hit something soft and heavy. Clara gasped, dropping to her knees and reaching out with trembling fingers.
She felt the coarse fabric of a suit jacket, then warm, sticky fluid. ""Marcus?""
A weak hand clamped onto her wrist. ""Clara..."" Marcus’s voice was barely a rattle. He was pinned beneath a heavy slab of broken balustrade, his legs mangled from the fall. A few feet away, Lauren lay motionless, her neck twisted at an unnatural angle against the stone wall, her lifeless eyes staring blankly into the dark.
""Marcus, hold on, I'll find help—""
""No,"" Marcus wheezed, coughing up dark blood. ""No time. The mercenaries... will breach the secondary door in minutes. You must... enter the vault.""
""I don't know how!"" she sobbed, clutching her belly as another wave of labor ripped through her. ""Marcus, the baby is coming. I can't do this!""
""Your pendant,"" Marcus gasped, using his last ounce of strength to pull her head down toward his lips. ""It is not jewelry, Clara. It is a biometric key. Your mother programmed it to your DNA. Put it into the stone crest at the end of the hall... and speak her name.""
""Her name? Elena?""
""Her true name,"" Marcus whispered, his grip suddenly loosening as his eyes lost their focus. ""Aletheia. The Goddess of Truth.""
His hand slipped from her wrist and fell limp onto the cold stone floor.
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Clara was entirely alone. Gathering every shred of willpower she possessed, she pulled the silver pendant from her pocket, staggered past Lauren’s corpse, and dragged herself toward a massive iron bulkhead at the end of the underground tunnel.
Behind her, the stone door at the top of the stairs began to groan under the concussive force of high-grade breaching explosives.
