The Phantom of the Catacombs Page 7

  Maeve nodded then wiped a tear dripping down her cheek.

  “As you said, we have more pressing matters to attend to. I have dealt with phantoms in the past. None shot smoke from their pants as you reported earlier. It is likely that the phantom is just a theatrical human,” Cardinal Riggio said.

  “Bert said that S.I.S. measured more spikes in supernatural activity at the Colosseum right after we got back here. If it’s not the phantom, what is the cause for the spikes?”

  “It is possible the phantom you speak of could have supernatural properties, or maybe it’s something else entirely. The Colosseum is always active on S.I.S. though. It could be nothing but the ghosts of that awful building’s past.”

  “Could be a shapeshifter like Bud said?”

  “That is also a possibility, too, but most likely not the case. The problem with shapeshifters is their ability to mimic and blend in. They can and have defeated Kenny’s surveillance system in the past, which is why I hope this is no shapeshifter. They are a most formidable enemy.” Cardinal Riggio’s deep-set eyes stared into Maeve’s soul to denote the weight of his words and warning.

  “I did stab one. We can defeat them.” Maeve stood from the bench.

  “I admire your tenacity and bravado, my dear. You will need it for the night ahead.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Bud Hutchins, amateur monk of the Order and prodigious inventor, hobbled into the secret marble entrance hall in the basement of the Castel Sant’Angelo. His companions readied themselves for the night’s task of hunting down a masked menace. Bert dressed himself, Maeve examined the hilt of her sword, and Cardinal Riggio cleaned a jacket of some sort.

  “Up to the task, Master Hutchins?” Bert stood in the hall with a floppy straw hat and brown robes covering his metal body.

  “You look fantastic, Bud. This night is going to go well,” Maeve joked.

  “Tell me, why do I associate with you all? It has done nothing but cause many, many problems.” Bud made sure his crossbow was secured to his back atop his white, tattered shirt.

  “You may want to take off your weapon, Bud, for now.” Cardinal Riggio held up a worn, beaten, brown leather jacket. “I want you to have this. The night will be cold. This was your grandfather’s favorite jacket. He wore it on our adventures fighting the occult in the war.”

  Bud considered a nasty response but thought better of it. “Thank you, Cardinal. I shall wear it.”

  Cardinal Riggio held Bud’s crossbow for him as Bud put on the jacket. It fit perfectly.

  “Very well. Be careful. Roma at night is beautiful but can be dangerous as well. Report to Vincenzo. He is the monk of the Order who seals a stone pine tree near the Colosseum. Say hello to him for me,” Cardinal Riggio said.

  “Teleportation bands at the ready… Wait a minute, Bert. Why does he have one of those?” Bud pointed to Sam’s wrist then retrieved the crossbow from Riggio.

  “Maeve and I thought he should have one,” Bert responded. “I integrated teleportation into my mainframe and gave him my external band. He is a monk of the Order, Bud. He certainly can be trusted.”

  “No matter. I trust you informed him on how to use it.”

  “I will be fine, Bud,” Sam said.

  “Very well. To the Piazza.” Bud hit the button on his band and teleported to Piazza del Colosseo.

  The hunting party followed suit.

  Sam’s wide eyes communicated shock. He shook from nerves.

  “Sam. Shake it off,” Maeve urged her friend.

  “Where do we find this Vincenzo fellow? There seem to be quite a few of these stone pine trees.” Bert pointed to a copse of tall trees that had slender trunks and no branches until the very top where tufts of pine mushroomed from said branches to make a canopy.

  “I am Vincenzo. You are the young monks of the Order everyone’s been talking about!” A small, stout man with a bushy mustache and a red golf cap greeted the party.

  “Someone must be playing a trick on us. Mari—” Bud laughed.

  “Bud. Shush. Yes, Vincenzo, we were sent by Cardinal Riggio. Anything more unusual than the regular level of unusual?” Maeve asked the veteran monk.

  “The tree in my charge has been vibrating more intensely as of late. However, I have been sealing it every night without any issue.”

  “Sam, is it possible that is what S.I.S. has been picking up?” Maeve looked to the still visibly shaken monk.

  “Yes. Possible. S.I.S. does measure activity based on a mixture of seismic vibration and grace power.” Sam checked his phone to examine the measurements again.

  “Have you noticed any other strange people lurking around the Colosseum?” Bert asked.

  “Uh…no. Lots of activity around here with the restoration in full swing, as tomorrow evening is the opening ceremony. What…what are a you?” Vincenzo took a deep breath, having just focused on the tall, robed android.

  “Oh, he is a harmless robot. I know it is weird. You look like a video game character, so all is equal in my eyes. Very well, Vincenzo. You may go about your routine. We shall take it from here.” Bud started to walk over to the hammering, sawing, and overall bustling construction site.

  The rest of the hunting party thanked Vincenzo for his help then rushed to keep pace with Bud.

  “Any more spikes in activity, Sam?” Bud looked at the yellow and orange glow of the lights that made the arches of the Colosseum such a beautiful sight at night. He then turned his head to the stark and bright temporary light fixtures that poured light into the stadium’s interior for the workers.

  “No, the same levels as this afternoon. They have stayed consistent,” Sam reported.

  “Is it possible the phantom and possible shapeshifter literally haunts under the Colosseum in the place we discussed earlier, Maeve?” Bud asked.

  “Let’s get down there to be sure.”

  “Yes. We should absolutely make sure.” Bud pushed back the brown leather sleeve of his grandfather’s old jacket and swiped his band.

  In front of Bert’s optics and the rest of the hunting party’s eyes, Ivy, the vampire, appeared.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “Bud!” Bert and Maeve yelled simultaneously.

  Bert shook his head. “She is in no state to help us, Bud. She almost died earlier.”

  “Guys, guys. I am fine. I will be okay. I feel strong. I feel good,” Ivy said, trying to assure her worried friends.

  “We will make her time to assist brief. She just needs to see if my theory is true. The phantom could very well be the shapeshifter. All she will do is use her vision to confirm the nature of our current antagonist. She wants to know who attacked her father. She has a right to join us. Bert said that the shapeshifter used my tech to travel to Rome. Subsequently, rising concentrated increases in supernatural activity started. A coincidence? I beg of you all to think not,” Bud explained.

  “Cardinal Riggio said that shifters can and have found ways to beat S.I.S. and remain undetected,” Maeve said.

  “As if we should wholly give our trust to the cardinal.” Bud turned around.

  Ivy walked next to him. “Let’s find a way underneath the Colosseum stage.”

  “I know a way underneath.” Sam put his hand up as if waiting for a teacher to call on him.

  The five phantom hunters followed Sam away from the major congestion of construction equipment and trucks to a grassy area on the other side of the monument. There were trees on the small triangular patch of grass. Sam walked to the top of the triangle shape and pointed down.

  “Right here is a way in. It has bars blocking anyone from entering. My sister and I used to sneak in and play around in the ruin at night through here,” Sam said, standing on the curb where the grass triangle met the road.

  Maeve cringed. “Not another sewer, Sam. Please. No.”

  “Excellent work, Sam. Perhaps you are more useful than you appear. Bert, you know what to do.” Bud nodded at the robed robot.

  Bert walked over, g
rabbed the metal bars, and pulled them out of the cement. The entrance to a tunnel that led straight into the Colosseum lay open.

  “Let me go first,” Ivy commanded. Her pale but powerful presence crushed any challenge to her request.

  Bud could sense a difference in his intellectual companion.

  “Of course. Ladies first.” Sam took a step back.

  Vincenzo. A most peculiar mark. Still, he was marked. Thus, he needed to be taken care of. He must have strolled Capitoline Hill with the tourists all the time. He was so friendly with them. He even took pictures with them. Not exactly characteristic of the seclusion people like him usually practiced.

  It wasn’t her job to think. Just carry out the mission. This time she would not be interrupted. Lord knows what damage had been done by the marked one she couldn’t take out earlier.

  He seemed so cheerful. So peaceful. Full of life.

  She followed him to a copse of trees set on a small grassy triangle behind the Colosseum. He knelt down in front of a tall stone pine tree. An intense tremor shook the ground beneath her feet. She kept her focus on Vincenzo.

  Focus.

  Tremors shook the ground from time to time. Nothing to be alarmed about.

  The creativity of prior kills was lost on her this night after the day she’d had.

  The silencer screwed into the barrel smoothly.

  Aim.

  Fire.

  Vincenzo’s head spurted more blood than normal. Or wait, was it just his red hat? This time, at least this marked one bled into the grass.

  The earth shook once more for a few seconds.

  He was stout. Another heavy one. She shook her head, but the night and copse of trees blocked his body from being seen.

  Her watch vibrated and lit up.

  Someone had tripped one of her silent alarms.

  Right below her.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The back of Bud’s neck heated up. Intensely. His hair began to burn. The end of his walking stick/crossbow sparked and burst into flame.

  Bud pulled the strap over his head. “What the bloody hell?”

  “My sword just glows in the dark. Yours bursts into flame, I guess? You okay?” Maeve asked.

  Bud held the enchanted stick/crossbow and now torch up with his left hand. “I am okay. This crossbow has a mind of its own.”

  The monks of the Order and Bert and Ivy, with enough light from Bud’s torch and Maeve’s gladius, examined the subterranean passageway. There were old chains on the ground and lots of small cubby holes used for storage. Some stone compartments large enough to contain animals and humans alike. The staging area for the gladiator games of old.

  “Okay, time to do this. Don’t look if you don’t want to see me do this.” Ivy pulled another vial of blood from her jacket. She drank it quickly.

  “See any gold marks?” Bud asked, perhaps too anxious.

  “Not yet. Let’s keep going.” Ivy still led the way, walking deeper and deeper into the tunnel.

  The loud noise of the construction crew came from above. The sounds of drills, saws, and hammers gave them their location. They were now underneath the newly built stage of the Colosseum.

  “Well, Sammy, this is where the spikes were coming from, correct?” Bud waved his torch at a pile of stones and pulled a mace from it. He dropped it and made a disgusted face.

  “We should keep going,” Sam urged. “The tunnels don’t end under the Colosseum. More intense readings lay ahead.”

  Bud rolled his eyes.

  “Bud, do you want to find the phantom or what? Let’s move,” Maeve said.

  The hunting party continued down through the tunnels. The ruinous cubbies and crumbled stonework environs gave way to tighter, more polished stone tunnels.

  “This is like the sewer we saw the phantom in before,” Maeve said. “This is good. We can figure out where he was bringing the body. And this also means that the phantom used these tunnels to remove the other workers. We will probably find their bodies down here.”

  “Wonderful. Except our teleportation bands are rendered useless, as you said before, correct? If there is a need for escape, we may be in trouble.”

  “Bud, I am seeing some strange markings down here now,” Ivy informed from a position ahead of Bud, Maeve, and Bert. “Orange and red marks. Red is a human, not sure what orange means. Sorry.”

  “Orange could be the phantom?” Maeve asked.

  “Bud, given the slight decline of our current tunnel system and the small stream of water, I would say that this tunnel ends at the Tiber River,” Bert said. The orange flame from Bud’s torch lit Bert’s straw hat and kept his robotic face in shadow.

  “Great. Let’s hope we find something before then. Ivy, still seeing those marks?”

  “Yes, following them.”

  “Sam, is S.I.S. still picking up activity?” Maeve asked.

  “My phone no longer charged, and signal is bad down here. Sorry.”

  “What is that bloody smell?” Bud asked.

  “Lighter fluid.” Maeve pinched her nose.

  Bud touched the walls and smelled his fingertips. “This part of the bloody tunnel is coated with it!”

  The dim light in the tunnel grew in brightness. Bud, Maeve, and Bert turned around. The snake of flame grew wider and wider. It slithered on the ground at a rapid pace down the center of the tunnel towards them, followed by the thunderous rumble of something rolling towards them.

  Bud could feel the heat already, and the flames were still a considerable distance away.

  “Holy hell,” Maeve quipped.

  “Isn’t that what humans call an oxymoron?” Bert cocked his head.

  “We better move!” Bud yelled. “On the double quick!”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The hunting party of five ran as fast as they could down the tunnels of the Cloaca Maxima, the ancient sewer and later underground aqueduct system of Rome. The flaming stream of immiscible liquids darted toward them.

  “I have a faster way of getting us out of this tunnel!” Ivy yelled.

  “Are you su—” Bud panted. He managed to secure the extinguished crossbow back over his leather jacket and ran straight with the pack.

  “Yes. I am fine. AH!” Ivy screamed. Her strides turned into longer, faster intervals. She sprouted wings from her back. Her vampire wings outstretched and nearly scraped the sides of the tunnel.

  “Sam! Bud!” Maeve yelled. “You two go with Ivy. Bert and I can outrun the flames on our own!”

  “Both of us, Ivy?!” Bud asked. His cardio started to fail him as he slowed down.

  “Yes, I can handle it!” Ivy flew in the direction of the flames and picked up Sam by his robe with one hand.

  Bert and Maeve ran along the side of the tunnel. Bud still ran in the middle. The flames bit his behind.

  “Ouch! Oh shit!” Bud yelled.

  “Gotcha!” Ivy grabbed Bud’s hand and turned around. Bud’s feet scraped the ground as Ivy flapped her wings with powerful force.

  Faint light appeared down the tunnel. Bud held on to Ivy with both hands. The end of the tunnel grew nearer. The dead air of the tunnel came alive and beat his hair back. He turned to look. Bert and Maeve kept a steady pace ahead of the flames. The source of the rolling thunder appeared behind them. The phantom rode a cart and pushed the hunting party out.

  “The phantom is on Bert and Maeve’s tail, Ivy! Get us out of here and get him!” Bud’s fake accent dropped in favor of his Chicago original.

  “We are almost outta here. Hang on, boys! Gonna push for more speed!” Ivy put her head down and squinted like she was focusing all her energy on her wing speed and control.

  Sam giggled like a small child. He seemed to love the ride while dangling from Ivy’s hand.

  Bud never enjoyed the fast, thrill-ride scenario. He thought of the pneumatic tube systems he and Maeve traveled not long ago.

  The ambient light of the city beat back the darkness of the tunnel. Soon, Bud felt fresh air
, and his shoes soaked with the water of the Tiber River before Ivy pulled them up and over to the western side of the river.

  Ivy landed on a small Riverwalk that faced the tunnel from whence they came.

  Sam fell to the ground in laughter.

  Bud and Ivy looked to the tunnel exit.

  Bert jumped out first and into the Tiber.

  Maeve and the phantom were nowhere to be found.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Maeve took a hard left and hid inside the tunnel branch that led to the Arch of Janus. She heard the rumble and roll of the wheels the phantom rode on. The flames burst from the main tunnel, flared into her tunnel, and heated her face. She shielded her eyes with her forearm. The flames died down enough for her to approach and catch the bastard.

  She was ready for him.

  Without hesitation, Maeve timed her jump to the whine and noise of the motor and wheels and leapt into the tunnel. The phantom rode on a wide motorized cart with the handlebar keeping him balanced. Maeve charged toward the phantom and gripped the horizontal handlebar with one hand and thrust her sword with the other. The phantom dipped to the side, dodging her possibly fatal thrust.

  Maeve’s foot was nearly crushed under the left wheel of the cart. She needed to gain a better position with both feet on the actual bed of the cart, not the thin rails of the front. Maeve sheathed the sword to her back and then gripped the handlebar with both hands.

  The phantom drove his elbow into her face.

  Nearly broke her nose.

  Pain pierced her. She looked down while she shook it off. The ground moved quickly under them, and flames still blanketed the stone floor. If Maeve fell, it would be most unpleasant. Trampled and burned. Nope. Not happening.

  Maeve looked behind her, and the cart raced to the end of the tunnel. Soon they would both dump into the Tiber River. Maeve held on to the handlebar with her left hand, gripped the cloak of the phantom with her other, and pulled him forward. She could feel his breath. The phantom was very much human.