Fleischer handed a two-way radio to the other soldier. 'Gerber, wait down here. If we need you I'll call.'
Torino frowned. 'Have you briefed him on what to do if we don't return? If I don't return?'
The soldier checked the radio. 'Everything's prepared, Father General. I know what to do.'
'Where's Petersen? Watching the prisoners?'
'Yes.'
'Good. Let's go.'
As they approached the tunnel, the singing started – a disquieting, sinister chant that emanated from the dark recesses of the cave. Then the nymphs emerged from the shadows and blocked the entrance. Torino counted ten. The soldiers stopped, unnerved by the startling creatures.
'Push them back,' said Torino. 'Get them out of the way.'
Bazin shouted and waved his shotgun at a nymph with blood-red flowers entwined in its hair-like fronds. It ignored him and continued to chant. Bazin stepped back and turned to Weber. 'Use the flame-thrower.'
Weber raised the nozzle, flicked the igniter and pressed the trigger. Fiery liquid jetted towards the nymphs. They screamed and fled back into the shadows. Their cries echoed through the caves and Torino smiled at how quickly they had retreated. Controlling the garden and its creatures wouldn't be difficult. He would soon fashion this place so that it brought only glory to Rome – and what glory it would be! He tapped Weber's shoulder.
Weber prodded Hackett with the hot nozzle of the flamethrower. 'Go.'
They walked slowly up the path and with each step the light grew more dazzling, the glare intensified by the gilded crystal that encrusted the tunnel. Torino could only guess at what lay ahead but was convinced that it had nothing to do with Kelly's dry theories on creation and evolution. Father Orlando's radix, his Tree of Life and Death, would offer no proof of any scientific hypothesis, only proof of God's presence on earth, a physical manifestation of His divine majesty and power. Like Moses witnessing the burning bush, Torino was convinced that he, too, would soon glimpse the face of God.
Suddenly Weber stopped.
Peering past him, to the path ahead, Torino saw a waterfall. Beside it, the path widened into a small chamber, then rough steps led to the top of the waterfall where the path widened again, forming another chamber before continuing onwards.
'Why have we stopped?'
'He won't move,' said Weber, gesturing to Hackett.
'Make him,' said Torino. Hackett turned, sweat pouring down his face, eyes darting meaningfully to the top of the waterfall. 'Let him speak.'
Weber pulled off the gag.
'I saw something moving,' Hackett panted.
Torino narrowed his eyes. 'Where?'
'In those holes up there.'
Torino peered up to the chamber on the next level. He could see the holes and a network of tunnels but nothing else. 'Can anyone else see anything?'
'No.'
Torino heard a click as Weber undid the safety on the flamethrower. The others raised their weapons. 'Go on.'
Hackett shook his head. 'No.'
Weber released a jet of flame. 'Go.'
Hackett jumped and shuffled forward, blinking against the sweat that poured down his face. Hackett stared at the black holes, every muscle in his body alert and trembling. He was sure he'd seen something moving within those dark spaces, something from his nightmares. A stab of anger penetrated his numbing fear. It would be so unfair to die in this remote place just as he had found his lost city. It incensed him that he might never enjoy the glory of his discovery or benefit from its gold.
He shuffled up the path to the top of the waterfall and saw that, as well as the holes in the walls, countless fissures led to a maze of dark passages. Straining to see beyond the blinding light into the blackness, he walked faster, wanting instinctively to get beyond the holes. He broke into a jog, then began to run up the path.
'Slow down,' hissed Weber.
Hackett ignored him. The soldier's flames could make him move but they couldn't make him stop. It felt good to release the adrenalin rushing through his body, and for a moment he dared to believe that he had imagined the glimpsed shapes in the dark.
Then Weber screamed.
Hackett should have kept running. But, despite his terror, he was a doctor and turned instinctively to help. When he looked back, he froze, unable to process what he was seeing. The black holes seemed to be moving, telescoping out of the walls. It was only when he saw Weber collapse on the path screaming, blood pouring from perfectly circular wounds in his thigh and shoulder, that Hackett realized black, worm-like creatures were twisting out of the rock, circular rows of teeth protruding from their jaws, biting into Weber's flesh then recoiling into their lairs. He stared openmouthed, registering the myriad holes that riddled the walls.
Was there one of those things in every hole?
'The flame-thrower. Use the flame-thrower.' Bazin's shout, from further down the tunnel, galvanized Hackett into action. He rushed to Weber and knelt behind his bleeding body. Shielded by the fuel tanks strapped to Weber's back, he took the flame-thrower nozzle from Weber's limp hand and pressed the igniter.
Fire suddenly enveloped the creatures and another, louder, scream echoed in the tunnel. Different from Weber's, inhuman, it seemed to come from deep within the rock. The sound of rapid machine-gun fire intensified the shrieks as Hackett kept pressing the flame-thrower igniter.
Suddenly, a worm-like creature thicker than Hackett's thigh spiralled through the flames and tore into Weber's protective vest, pushing the soldier on to Hackett, pinning him down but also protecting him. Other dark shapes rifled towards them, taking chunks out of Weber. Then something hit Hackett's left shoulder. Such was his shock that he felt no pain until he saw that a neat circular chunk had been taken out of his flesh, exposing muscle and bone. His shirt was soaked with blood – he had never seen so much. The pain came now, running through him like fire. He tried to move his left arm but the agony was excruciating. Using his other arm, he pulled Weber's body closer to him and, with detached horror, realized the soldier's right buttock had gone. He pushed himself flat against the sharp crystal path as one of the creatures smashed through Weber's elbow, breaking bones, trying to reach him. Weber was still alive but they kept coming, devouring him piece by piece.
'Help me,' the soldier screamed, above frantic gunfire, but Hackett could barely help himself. One of the twisting creatures came straight at Weber's face, directly in front of Hackett's own, its baleful red eyes staring right at him. Its tubular body was made up of dusty, interlocking armoured plates. As it struck, it opened its mouth wide, exposing circular rows of protruding teeth, breath reeking of decay and rotting flesh.
Weber tried to scream, but when the creature bit into his face and recoiled back to its lair it took his tongue with it. The next took his cheek and left eye. Hackett tried to curl up into the foetal position as one of the creatures ripped into his right calf muscle. The agony seared through him.
Then he felt rough hands dragging Weber off him and pulling them both away from the monsters. The attack had lasted just seconds but they had been the longest of Hackett's life. All he could think about as he crawled, bleeding, to safety was the last thing Weber must have seen before the creatures drilled into his face. Moments earlier Standing on the path beside the waterfall, Torino stared up at the vision of Hell unfolding before him. Bazin pushed past him, pumping and firing his shotgun, while Fleischer opened up with the Heckler amp; Koch. The heads of two rock worms exploded, and the flailing headless trunks recoiled into the wall leaving a trail of blood. Bazin rushed forward and tried to reach Weber but the flames held him back. The flame-thrower seemed barely to deter the frenzied rock worms, though. Through the inferno, Torino glimpsed Weber's body being consumed by the hellish creatures, while Hackett lay pinned beneath him, trying in vain to keep them at bay. Worse than what he could see, however, was what he could hear: an inhuman screaming that filled the acrid air and forced him to put his hands over his ears. He couldn't tell if the sound, which surrounded him, came from the rock worms, the nymphs below, or something further up the tunnel.
Shell-shocked, he watched Bazin and Fleischer drag Hackett and Weber past him. As he followed them away from the flames and the worms, he kept looking back, beyond the carnage, to the light beckoning from
