Ark of Blood (eBook)

An ARKANE Thriller Book 3

J. F. Penn (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2017 | 1. Auflage
256 Seiten
Curl Up Press (Verlag)
978-0-00-002220-2 (ISBN)

Infos

It is the seat of judgment. The pinnacle of holiness. It is the Ark of the Covenant... and it's the most dangerous weapon in existence.

A group of fanatics wearing masks of Egypt's gods slaughter the curator of Cairo's most famous museum. A cleaner in Washington, DC, discovers a decapitated head on top of a replica of the Ark of the Covenant. And someone is sharing videos of the deaths with extremists all over the world. 

It's a job too big - and too strange - for the normal authorities, but it's right up the alley of ARKANE, the British agency tasked with investigating mysteries on the edge of the supernatural. 

Normally ARKANE would send its best agents: Morgan Sierra, ex-Israeli military and professor of psychology and religion; and Jake Timber, a man as mysterious as he is dangerous. 

But Jake is in a coma, nearly killed on a previous mission - so Morgan will have to go it alone. Because the death toll is rising, and there's no time to wait.

In over her head, in constant danger. Pursued by vicious mercenaries bent on revenge, hunted by assassins willing to do anything for their cause. But Morgan can't stop, because the Ark of the Covenant is the prize, and it may be more than a simple religious artifact. 

It may be the secret to ancient alchemy, and the unlocking of a scientific breakthrough that could save the world... or end it.

A mix of Raiders of the Lost Ark, James Bond, and The Da Vinci Code, Ark of Blood is a mesmerizing adventure by New York Times and USA Today bestselling author J.F. Penn. Grab your copy today, and get lost in the world of ARKANE!

Textauszug

1

Djinns seep from the cracks of the primeval city as Anubis prowls the Egyptian night in search of the dying. The gods of the ancients are buried deep under Africa’s largest city, but in the dark they claw their way back into consciousness, clinging to eternal life through a remaining glimmer of faith.

Youssef Diab concentrated on the final clue of his crossword puzzle, the only noise the hum and whirr of fans that failed to cool the stifling summer heat. He was the only guard on duty tonight because the security company had sent all the men round to the businesses surrounding Tahrir Square. After the political riots of the Arab Spring, they were paying the most for enhanced security so the museum was silent and still, its only occupants the dead.

Suddenly a scream rang out, the noise tinny through the security screen.

Youssef was jolted from his crossword, his skin prickling at the haunting sound. It was sharp at first, then trailed off into a trembling moan. Youssef scanned the screens, switching views until he saw movement within the Amarna Period section of the museum.

Knowing there was no one else around to help, he pressed the silent alarm anyway. With some luck, a security team would come and investigate before the intruders left. He squinted at the screen. It looked like they were doing something to the giant statues but he couldn’t see properly who or what had screamed so terribly.

Pulling his gun from its holster, Youssef headed downstairs. He had to try to stop them, or he would pay with his job.

On the ground floor, he rounded a corner into the Amarna suite of rooms and inched forward with caution, hugging close to the cramped display cases, where giant heads of pharaohs jostled with mummy cases and the detritus of a long-dead civilization.

As he moved closer, Youssef heard another sound, an animal moan that cut through him. He hurried towards it, gun drawn but his shoes squeaked and he froze mid-stride, heart pounding. They didn’t pay him enough to risk his life so easily. He listened carefully but heard no one approach, so he crept on tiptoe to the doorway and peered between two display cases at the scene before him.

A man was tied, spreadeagled, between two massive sculptures, his arms outstretched to the ancient gods as they stared impassively down at his suffering. His shirt was ripped open and blood dripped down to pool at his feet from the sign carved on his chest. It was an ankh, the key of life formed in the shape of a cross with a looped handle, a symbol of eternal life.

The man’s face was swollen and bloody from a beating but Youssef realized with a start that the man was one of the specialist curators, Dr Abasi Gamal.

A woman stood in front of him holding a ceremonial knife. A tight black outfit emphasized her feminine curves and a mask of the falcon God Horus covered her face. Around her stood others in the guise of gods made flesh and Youssef recognized Anubis, the jackal and the baboon-headed Thoth. The woman caressed the knife handle as she drew the blade over Abasi’s chest again, cutting lines into his flesh as she spoke.

“Where is it Abasi? I know you've studied it for many years and that you’ve found something new recently. I need to know where the Ark is.”

Abasi looked back at her and Youssef could see a curious fanaticism glinting in his eyes.

“You’ll never find it,” he said. “The Ark has protected itself for generations and it will remain safe from you now. I curse you …”

“Enough,” she shouted, slamming the blunt end of the knife into his solar plexus. He grunted and slumped against his bonds. “I have your journals and I will find your research assistant. I don't need you, but the gods need a sacrifice to bless my quest.”

Youssef heard arousal in her voice, the tones of expectancy as she considered her prize. Abasi looked up at her, his eyes terrified, voice trembling.

“No, you cannot. Please, I would be without rest for eternity.”

The woman beckoned the figures of Anubis and Thoth forward. The men under the masks had muscled arms that allowed no chance for escape as they unhooked Abasi and dragged him to one of the sarcophagi that littered the museum.

The Curator struggled and called out in a language Youssef couldn't understand but it sounded like a plea to the gods to spare him.

“The sarcophagus is appropriate,” the woman purred. “For the word means flesh-eater and that is what it shall be for you. This rite is ancient and you should be flattered that your body is to be treated as the Pharaohs were. Of course, they were dead before the process began.”

The men tied the Curator onto the lid of the sarcophagus, stuffing a gag into his mouth so that his moans became muted. He struggled frantically but the ropes held fast, cutting into his wrists.

Youssef watched in horror as the woman turned and smashed a display case containing the tools of the mummification process, salvaged from one of the tombs in the Valley of the Kings. She selected a chisel and a hammer, caressing the objects, as if anticipating the pleasure to come. Youssef realized what she was about to do but he was frozen with fear, unable to move.

He could only watch as the woman took the thin chisel and hammer and approached the tied man, intoning prayers as the other men responded with a repetitive chorus. Youssef heard the desert in her voice, ancient prayers that called upon gods he had thought long dead. Abasi tried to squirm away, screaming into his gag but Anubis held his head still like a vice in his meaty hands.

Delicately, as if trying not to mark him, the woman inserted the chisel up one of the Curator’s nostrils, her voice rising to a final high note.

With a light tap, she banged the chisel and blood spurted out around the instrument. Abasi grunted and she tapped again, harder this time. His eyes rolled back in agony.

“You can still stop this, Abasi,” the woman said, her voice eerily calm for the bloody scene she was creating. “Tell me where the Ark is, for according to the ritual, you must be disemboweled before I drag your brain from your skull.”

Abasi moaned against his gag, thrashing his head in a violence of denial.

She shook her head. “So be it.”

Gently, as if she was just leaning into him as a lover would, she began to press the knife into his left side. It was blunted from millennia of disuse, so it was hard to penetrate his skin, but she persisted, sawing it to and fro to pierce the curator’s side.

As she pushed the knife in, the woman began to breathe faster and Youssef could sense her excitement at this act of intimate violation. He knew he should run, should find help to save the man, but he was transfixed by the horror as Abasi groaned in tortured agony. The masked figures began chanting again, their voices louder now, in words that animated the primitive horror of this place.

Once the tip of the knife blade was in, the woman started to zigzag it through Abasi’s skin, slicing at his flesh.

The curator convulsed, arching away from her but still held down by his bonds and the deities surrounding him.

Blood gushed over her hands as she continued cutting, opening up his side. She didn't flinch, just drove the knife deeper until the cut was long enough, then she reached into Abasi’s body and pulled out a loop of his intestines, the stink of it making one of the men gag. Blood and bodily fluids pumped in gouts onto the floor but the curator was still squirming.

Youssef gasped, realizing that the man wasn’t dead yet, and the woman wasn’t finished.

“Men have watched their intestines burned before them before they died,” she said, “but for you, we will finish in the traditional way.”

She reached for the long chisel.

This time she slammed it up his nose and smashed the hammer into it once, then twice. At the second blow, the chisel emerged from the top of his skull, brain matter and bloody skull fragments dripping from it.

The curator gave a loud cry, shuddering as his body arched one more time, before he lay still. The woman calmed her breath as she looked down on the corpse, her clothes stained with his blood, his guts steaming on the floor.

“Take the diaries,” she commanded the men with her. “Search the study for anything else of his and take it...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 24.7.2017
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• ISBN-10: 0-00-002220-9 / 0000022209
• ISBN-13: 978-0-00-002220-2 / 9780000022202