Rob and his friends reached the frozen Phlegethon, the river of lava, and to their horror they saw smoke beginning to rise from it, it was about to return to its natural state. However, they found that the lava to the right hand side of the bridge, though warming up, was still cool enough to walk across in safety, cool being a relative term as regards to the temperature of the lava. They clambered down its bank and rushed across its now rapidly warming rocks, Father Pritchard only just making it, his shoes were already beginning to smoke as he clambered up the far side bank of the river. He pulled his shoes off and slammed them against the ground, then he rubbed them in the sandy soil to ensure that they did not ignite when he put them back on, when sure that they were not about to be engulfed in flames, he put his rather warm shoes back on and smiled at his two friends.
“There were times during an English winter that I have longed for a pair of heated shoes, but not quite that hot.” He said laughing.
With everyone safely across the now hot river of lava, Rob and his two friends sped off after the four surviving Satanists, who could be seen in the distance, fleeing for their lives. Their hope of living through this nightmare were growing as the seconds ticked by, however, it was now that two spears the size of lances flashed by them to plunge into the ground ahead of them. Father Pritchard veered sharply to one side so as not to make the group an easy target; Gerry Handley did likewise leaving Rob to run in a zigzag pattern in the ever-widening gap between the three men. They could now hear a sound much like base drums, Rob knew it was the Cyclops racing after them, followed by the demons and gods of Tartarus, and he immediately increased his speed.
Far to one side of Rob, Gerry Handley ran as if the very hounds of hell were behind him, as they were now. He swerved around the many volcanic vents that filled the ground between the fortress and the small ruined church, oblivious to the fact that above him a winged Fury had now caught up with him, it swooped down silently and raked his shoulders with its talons, making him stumble and fall to the ground badly shaken. The terrible creature seeing him lying flat out on the ground, dropped down onto his back, and it continued its attack upon him, using its talons, which raked his back bringing forth screams of agony, and its teeth, which were biting into the back of his neck. Rob had that moment turned to check on his friend, seeing the creature attacking Gerry Handley he stopped his own flight and threw the spear that he had taken from the fortress. His aim was not brilliant but it ruffled the feathers of the Fury, who quickly lifted off and circled above them.
“Come on Gerry, this is no time for resting.” Rob quipped as he ran over and offered his hand to his friend.
Gerry had just got to his feet when he leapt at Rob, roughly pushing him to one side, a massive spear sped through the space that Rob had just occupied, and it buried itself into Gerry Handley`s chest. He fell to ground dead, for the spear had gone through his heart, killing him instantly. Rob stood there, stunned, before the screech of the Fury woke him from his state of absolute shock. Looking up at the winged creature, and then back at the charging Titans, Rob picked up the sword that Gerry Handley had taken from the fortress and then ran, leaving the dead body of his friend in Tartarus, the worst of all the hell dimensions. Rob now prayed for his friend`s soul, and then, after a few moments thinking about the matter, for those of Father Pritchard and himself.
Rob looked around for his other friend, Father Pritchard, but he was nowhere to be seen, he was long gone, as he had not noticed the attack on his friend. A minute later Rob rounded a low hill, and here he came upon the body of Jonathan Towers, he lay dead upon the ground killed by a massive rock thrown at the fleeing Satanists by a Cyclops. Laying upon the floor by his still body was the Mist of Glairmore, forgotten by Moira and the other Satanists. Rob spared the dead man only one second`s thought as he retrieved his own automatic pistol from the dead man`s waist band, then he took off after the others.
The Cyclops could have ended this one sided battle quite easily, but they liked the chase, so instead of merely outrunning the humans and then tearing them in two, they preferred to give the humans a sporting chance. The Cyclops would get within throwing distance and then stop and throw a massive rock at their quarry, once their quarry was killed in this way then they looked for another human to hunt.
The skies were now filled with black thunderclouds, reflecting the anger that Kronos was feeling, and evil flashes of lightning struck ever closer to the fleeing body of Rob, the light seemed to be disappearing fast in this terrible land. Ahead of him he saw a dim light in the distance, hoping to find help there he hurried towards it. Above him, winged Furies were chasing after him, and then one of them darted down towards him, screeching out in anger at this human who had dared to trespass upon the realm of the dead. Rob stopped his dash for safety, turned, and fired his automatic pistol, three times the pistol fired but still the Fury sped towards him. At the last moment Rob flung himself to one side, he felt the wind caused by the wings of the evil monster freeze him as the Fury sped past him. Then he saw a second Fury, and it was already upon him, no time to throw himself away from its outstretched hands, instead he jabbed the sword grasped in his left hand, and then gasped in relief as the Fury threw its speeding body to one side and sped away squealing its anger at missing its meal.
Far ahead of him, Simon Parkston was attacked by the third Fury, and just after he had called upon magic to unlock the doors to the old ruined church, however, the Fury did not attack his body; instead, it snatched the Key of Tartarus out of his hands. Parkston stood there stunned for a moment, just as Moira, who still carried the heavy golden Ark of Baʿal Berith, reached the newly opened portal. Then another massive boulder crashed down out of the sky, thrown by a Cyclops, and it struck Simon Parkston full in the middle of his back, he collapsed to the ground. He was already dying when Moira ran back to him to look down at his fallen body, she stopped for a second to mourn his passing, then she looked after the departing Fury in fear, for the ancient gods would now be able to follow her through to her own dimension.
Rob heard the Fury as it neared his position, screeching in triumph at having snatched the Key of Tartarus from the humans. Rob gasped in fear when he saw the old oil lamp grasped in the talons of the creature, he knew that the Fury could not be allowed to return to the fortress with its prize. He raised his pistol and emptied it into the body of the Fury, which to his surprise crashed down upon the ground beside him, badly stunned. Rob reached down and retrieved the Key of Tartarus, and he too was taken by surprise when he felt the power surging within it. With no time to waste wondering about it, he set off for the old ruined church which he prayed was nearby, a minute later and he came upon a second dead Satanist, it was Simon Parkston.
Rob raced on past it, as fast as he could in the growing darkness, constantly looking around for his friend Father Pritchard, it was this that made him trip up. Rob hauled his weary body up, he could see two Cyclops searching for fresh prey, and luckily, they did not see him in the gloom. Then he saw a dim light appear ahead of him, it was quite near to him, he ran towards it. However, he now heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching him from the left, he veered to one side, and a wall appeared out of the darkness, he ran to it hoping to put his back up against something solid to help defend his back. He rested for a second to get his breath back, constantly on the lookout for an enemy, then his luck changed, to one side of him he saw a door, it looked exactly like the new door into the small church and Rob ran to it just as one of the Furies sped squealing towards him. Rob tugged on the door and it opened, he quickly entered into a dimly lit room and turning he slammed the door shut on the Fury, which flew away screeching in anger.
“Rob you`re back, thank god.” Father Pritchard gasped out.
He had been injured during the escape, fleeing from one of the Titans who had been imprisoned in Tartarus thousands of years ago. An arrow had buried itself in his shoulder. However, he had still managed to reach the ruined church, just moments before Moira had bur
st into it, followed by Mrs Knightly, and he had hidden from the two Satanists, fearful that one of them would kill him if they caught sight of him. Moira had screamed out in anger at the ancient gods, and had thrown one of the candlestick at the wall in a rage fit for a goddess, the candlestick falling unseen upon his still form. When the two Satanists had fled through the earthly exit, he had risen from his hiding place, holding onto the wall to support himself, and he looked and felt exhausted and just moments away from collapse.
“David, you made it back, thank god, Gerry died back there, saving my life. I just hope that his eternal soul gets safely away.” Rob said desolately.
Frankly, he was amazed to find himself back in the church; he thought that his own number had finally come up.
Father Pritchard now noticed the Key of Tartarus in Rob`s hands. “Rob you must use the Key to close the dimensional door, before one of the gods or demons gains entrance and takes it off you.” Father Pritchard exclaimed.
“I will try David, but I am no Satanist.”
As he said these words a pale figure drifted into the old church, it came from the hell dimension, the two friends gasped, for it was the soul of their friend, Gerry Handley, escaping from Tartarus. It stopped to look at them, the two men felt a warm glow emanating from it, then it left by the doors that led to their own dimension, and there it would be able to find a way to a dimension fit for heroes. Stunned for a moment, Rob was brought back to life by the bestial sounds of a creature approaching the church from Tartarus. He held the old oil lamp up to the roof of the old ruined church and cried out in a loud voice.
“Oh powerful Key of Tartarus, close this portal now to prevent your prisoners from escaping and terrorising the people of Earth.” Rob cried out, trying to sound as Moira Bourbon would have, had she been there.
“Look!” Father Pritchard exclaimed.
Rob looked at where his friend was pointing, expecting to see a demon appear, however, instead of a demon he saw the scene through the broken windows at the rear of the church changing from the hell dimension back to their own more people friendly one. The satanic device in his hands felt cold now, all of its power had been drained by its last action, the sealing up of the hell dimension of Tartarus.
Elsewhere in the hell dimension of Tartarus, the souls of the dead Satanists began to leave their bodies, to be snared by the lesser minions of Tartarus and taken to their place of torment.
“Rob, we must leave immediately for France, Moira is heading back to her chateau, and the insane bitch wants to bring her dead father back to life. That is what this has all been about, resurrecting Ulysses Bourbon. She only has Mrs Knightly with her now; they were the only ones to escape from Tartarus.” Father Pritchard groaned, his strength failing him now.
Rob had other priorities though, for he had seen the broken arrow sticking in his friends shoulder. “First we will get you to a hospital to get your shoulder fixed.” Rob said. “Hopefully, one of the vehicles outside will still have its keys in the ignition.”
Luckily, the keys had been left in an old Ford Fiesta, because of the need for haste when the Satanists had arrived at the ruined church. Rob and Father Pritchard were soon heading south towards the nearest A&E hospital in Nottingham. Arriving early in the morning, just as the sun began to show over the rooftops. Father Pritchard sighed with relief, and he was soon lying on a bed, being attended to by an exhausted young doctor who seemed delighted to have an arrow wound to attend to, rather than his normal cases.
Rob called Sir Willoughby Brown from here, and he told him everything that had occurred over the last twelve hours, including the death of Gerry Handley.
“I will arrange for an all ports watch for her, although I seem to recollect that her father had a private aircraft that was never found, it disappeared along with the pilot.” Sir Willoughby Brown said grimly. “You get yourself down here as soon as you have rested, I do not want to hear that you fell asleep at the wheel of your stolen vehicle and crashed, killing yourself and creating miles of paperwork for me.”
Rob laughed and agreed to book into the nearest hotel. “Oh Sir Richard, Moira has changed her looks again, this time she has gone for the full Goth make up.”
Rob then returned to Father Pritchard`s bedside, and after saying goodnight to his tired friend he booked into a local Best Western hotel, it was from the privacy of his hotel room that he called Christina.
“Rob, are you all right, why didn`t you call me earlier?” Christina cried out, frightened that something terrible had happened to Rob
Behind her a sleepy Cassie was wondering the same thing, and she too was fearful of hearing Rob`s answer.
“I am fine darling, I cannot go into details over the telephone, suffice to say that I am unhurt. I am in Nottingham at the moment; I am staying the night here in a hotel because I am too tired to drive. Darling, I am with David, and we will be with you sometime tomorrow, I don`t know when, it depends on when I wake up. I will tell you everything tomorrow, OK?” Rob explained.
“Ok, Rob, You get some rest, Cassie and I will see you tomorrow, I missed you darling, goodnight.” Christina replied and hesitantly put the telephone down and turned to Cassie, who put her arms around her elder sister to comfort her.
“I knew that bitch couldn`t get the better of my Rob.” Christina said and then burst into tears, which caused Cassie to start.
**********
Father Pritchard checked himself out of the hospital the following morning, much against the doctor`s wishes, and he and Rob returned to London to drop into the SIS headquarters, and Sir Willoughby Brown. His wound was checked again by the service`s own doctor, who advised him to rest up, but Father Pritchard was adamant, he would travel to France with Rob, and as the only specialist available he would be invaluable there. Sir Willoughby Brown was not so sure.
“Father Pritchard, I see the coming confrontation between our forces and Moira Bourbon as one where our brute force and violence will win the day, and before Moira Bourbon even realises that Rob has even arrived.
“Hopefully you are correct Sir Richard; of course Moira Bourbon is critically short of personnel this time, having only one other Satanist with her, she is also out of muscle. However, there is the chance that she can pick some up when she arrives in France, her father was able to call on some muscle the last time we were in France, and they caused us a great deal of trouble.” Rob said
“Which is why you will be met by John Agers and Simon Markman when you arrive in France. They will supply you with a weapon and anything else that you might require; they will also stay with you as your muscle.” Sir Willoughby Brown replied. “You are to fly out tomorrow morning from Redhill Aerodrome, you are to arrive at the airport no later than eight o`clock, Michael Parsons will be your pilot, and he will fly you to France in that small aircraft of his. So go home now and put your wife`s mind at rest, and then tomorrow morning meet up with Parsons and fly to Guéret Aerodrome, it is near to Montluçon.” Sir Willoughby Brown explained. “And Rob, do try to stay out of any more hell dimensions.” Sir Willoughby Brown added as an afterthought.
“I will do my best Sir Richard, at least Moira Bourbon has no idea that anyone else survived Tartarus, she must feel very safe at the moment.” Rob replied.
Rob picked up his own car at the SIS headquarters building, left there at the very start of this terrible adventure, and headed for home. He and Father Pritchard were soon sitting in Rob`s front room, explaining to two very relieved young women all that had happened, and all that had gone dreadfully wrong while Rob and Father Pritchard had been away. Rob told how Gerry Handley had met a hero`s death saving Rob`s life, and of Tartarus, a truly hell dimension. It was another tearful goodbye when the two men left for France early the next morning, Father Pritchard insisted on accompanying Rob, Christina drove them to the aerodrome in Rob`s car. She held back her tears as she said goodbye to them, knowing that they were going to rid the world of Moira Bourbon, and her fellow Satanist. Rob`s orders were to t
ry to take Moira Bourbon out with a Czech made Pax-22 tranquillizer rifle which fires a drugged dart, however, he was also authorised to you deadly force if this option proved impossible or even too dangerous to attempt. He mission was to stop Moira Bourbon before she became even more powerful than she already was. Father Pritchard did not bother to argue the rights or wrongs of this order, not this time, for he agreed with it.
Chapter Eight
Return to France
After fleeing from Tartarus, Moira Bourbon and Mrs Knightly had returned to Mrs Knightly`s small house to get some rest. Mrs Knightly had said that it was safer, should anyone come looking for any of the residents of the manor house, as they were unlikely to search the now empty hamlet of Parkston, they would go immediately to the manor house. As for the chances of agents from the SIS turning up, the two Satanists had dismissed this as something unlikely to happen. Rob Hinds had not been able to contact his office for the last twelve hours or more, so his last location was unknown to anyone, even so staying away from the manor house seemed the safer option.
“You take my bed Moira, and I will crash on the couch.” Mrs Knightly said kindly to the visibly exhausted young Satanist.
“Thank you Joanna, I am feeling a little shattered.” Moira said not realising that her friend simply wanted to be nearer to the Ark.
Moira placed the heavy golden Ark of Baʿal Berith on a stout looking table in the small kitchen of the house, and she studied it carefully while Mrs Knightly washed and then collecting some spare bedding and her nightclothes. Exhaustion finally forced Moira to leave the Ark and to walk up the narrow staircase and into the only bedroom in the house, a smile upon her face. She stripped off her clothes and slipped between the cool sheets, too tired to bother washing, and she fell asleep almost instantly.
Mrs Knightly did not retire though, she also studied the Ark, and making mental notes on what she saw engraved upon it. After looking at the mythological scenes she finally came to a mystical scene, it showed the Ark placed within a fully charged satanic pentagram. She immediately opened a door that led off the kitchen, then she picked up the heavy Ark and carried it through the open door and down into her personal temple.