Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 146722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 734(@200wpm)___ 587(@250wpm)___ 489(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146722 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 734(@200wpm)___ 587(@250wpm)___ 489(@300wpm)
“Please.” Noa never pleaded for anything. But she did right then.
Noa left the van before Beth could respond. Relief sailed through her when Beth stayed in the van, brown eyes watery and huge as she watched Noa retreat. But she was doing as Noa had asked.
Noa pulled her hood over her head and buttoned her face covering in place. Then she was moving. She stayed close to the line of trees for coverage, a shadow moving through the tall grass. She followed the perimeter of the old church’s land until the dilapidated white building came into view. An abandoned old Catholic church that hid Auguste’s sinister secrets in its basement.
His personal playground.
Once upon a time there would have been a small community that attended this church, but those days were long gone, the church abandoned like so many around the US due to the decline in the Catholic faith. But the Brethren had made use of them without the wider church knowing. And Auguste had most certainly made use of this one.
Noa ducked behind a bush and studied the church. There were no vehicles outside. There were no lights on inside and absolutely no sign of movement.
Noa’s pulse fluttered in a dizzying mix of excitement and relief. There was no one here. She broke from the trees, keeping low as she cut through the abandoned field and to the window below the church’s steeple. She narrowed her eyes and looked through the cracks in the shutters. The church was in darkness. Noa didn’t waste any more time.
She moved to the door, broke through the old lock and slipped into the building. Memories assaulted her as the dank, musty smell of the two-centuries-old church barreled into her senses. Her skin felt on fire. Her lungs felt like they were filling with water. But Noa allowed herself three seconds of closing her eyes and quickly pulled herself back together.
Noa reached for the small flashlight on her belt. She switched it on and ran past the pews to the nave of the church. She scanned the altar, the pulpit and the many dusty statues of Mary, Mother of God, and the saints. Working clockwise, Noa moved every picture, every crucifix, searching behind them for a hidden safe, somewhere that would hold the ledger.
But after she had exhausted the pictures and statues, her attention kept drifting to the back door. Fear’s sharply clawed hands reached up from hell and wrapped around her throat. She knew what lay behind that door. And once, long ago, when she had been freed from there, she’d vowed never to return.
Yet here she was.
As much as she searched the main body of the church, she knew that the ledger was down there. Noa told her feet to move, but they were frozen in place, glued to the termite-ridden wood beneath her boots’ thick soles.
“Come on,” she whispered to herself, feeling as though her thundering heart was about to smash through the cage of her ribs and escape. Noa reached into the small pouch on her weapon belt. She hadn’t opened this pouch for so, so long. But her fingers seemed to move of their own accord and reach inside.
The smooth surface of the Tiger’s Eye crystal her grandmother had given her when she was younger warmed her skin. She pulled the crystal from the pouch, and even in the small light the flashlight offered, she saw the beauty of the brown and black crystal. And she felt it. She felt the courage it brought to her soul, the strength to see this mission through.
Diel’s face rose to her mind, a conjured mirage. Noa imagined the expression on his face when they managed to locate his sister. When Noa returned to the manor with the ledger that told him where Cara was. As she thought those things, the crystal in her palm filling her with its powerful energy, Noa felt her legs loosen and her feet begin to move.
She opened her eyes and, without overthinking anything, ran to the gateway to her personal hell. Hands trembling, she opened the door and stepped inside. She heard the familiar flowing water below, the spring underground that Auguste made full use of.
Swallowing, and clutching the crystal tighter, Noa made her way to the steep, winding staircase that had been formed from the earth. And she descended.
Damp slicked the walls; dankness swam in the air. The further she dropped, the darker everywhere became. She heard her own labored breathing echoing in her ears; she felt her heart thumping hard in her chest. Yet she didn’t stop. She didn’t stop until she landed in the main space. Noa couldn’t help the harsh burst of air that slipped past her lips. Her eyes were wide as all the devices came into view. Some she recognized well, and some were new.