pressure.”
The sound of his labored breathing filled her ears, followed by soft, shallow grunts. Then there was a rumbling, like the sound of heavy furniture being dragged over a floor. On the screen before her, Melissa could make out a segment of the wall shifting inward.
“That’s got it!” Hazelhurst’s tired voice beamed.
Melissa squinted again, fighting to see what he saw. “The passageway to the next level,” she realized.
“There are stairs,” her father said. “I’ll keep my eyes steady for a time so you can see for yourself. The staircase is very narrow. I can’t see the bottom. I’m going to take the first step down.”
“No!” The urgency in Melissa’s voice made Kamir swing toward her.
“Easy, Daughter. I’ve waited my whole life to find what may be at the bottom of this stairway.”
“Then you can wait a little longer. Please. Just until we can get better equipment.”
The screen before her showed the blurred shape of the stairs as her father took them.
“Three steps down now. The steps feel …”
“Damn!” Melissa muttered, as the picture wobbled and started to break up.
“… like they were chiseled at the same time as the walls and floor above. You know what that means, of course.”
“No! No, I don’t. …”
The sounds of Hazelhurst’s breath intermixed with the rustling noises of his descent. “Think, Daughter! Whoever built this chamber over the actual doorway wasn’t trying to entomb it; they only wanted to conceal it. Everything in the construction points to the fact that regular forays were made down here by the overchamber’s builders.” More rustling noises. “Difficult to date the work. Early Phoenician or even—That’s it! This reminds me of the way the Egyptian pyramids were constructed. That might give us more of a clue as to the dating. The steps are narrowly spaced. Don’t you understand what this means?”
“Any sign of Winchester’s killers?” Melissa could see virtually nothing now, the dim light giving little back to the camera.
Hazelhurst answered his own question when she failed to. “The builders of the overchamber didn’t construct these steps; they merely discovered the entrance to them, then sought to conceal and guard them. The steps were waiting when they came, waiting for who knows how long.” The old man’s voice turned reflective. “I wonder how far down they got. I wonder how far …”
Melissa estimated that her father had covered forty to forty-five steps now.
“There’s something down here,” he said suddenly.
“What?”
“Just a glimpse. I caught a glimpse. I think I’m almost to the bottom. It must lead into another chamber.”
“Stay where you are. Let me try and get a look. …”
“I’m starting to make sense of this construction now. If I’m right— Oh my God. …”
“Father, what is it? What do you see?”
“No! No! ”
Melissa squeezed close enough to the screen to draw static. “What’s going on? I can’t see anything !”
The camera wobbled, as her father took three rapid steps down.
“Daddy, get out of there!”
“Yes, I’m sure now,” Benson Hazelhurst’s slightly panicked voice returned. “At the bottom of the stairs, I can see … bodies. Aren’t you getting this?”
“Daddy, just get out of there.”
They must be the men who killed Winchester. But what hap—”
There was a sudden flash, and then the picture scrambled into oblivion.
“Daddy!”
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! …”
Her father’s high-pitched screech froze Melissa’s insides. Her breath left her in a rush, barely enough retained for another desperate cry.
“Daddy! …”
His scream gave way to a wet, slurping sound. What might have been grinding and tearing, or … chewing followed. The screen continued to show nothing. Melissa pounded its top in frustration.
“Get him up!” she yelled at Kamir.
Instantly he moved to the winch and reversed its pull. The steel lifeline grew taut, wouldn’t
The sound of his labored breathing filled her ears, followed by soft, shallow grunts. Then there was a rumbling, like the sound of heavy furniture being dragged over a floor. On the screen before her, Melissa could make out a segment of the wall shifting inward.
“That’s got it!” Hazelhurst’s tired voice beamed.
Melissa squinted again, fighting to see what he saw. “The passageway to the next level,” she realized.
“There are stairs,” her father said. “I’ll keep my eyes steady for a time so you can see for yourself. The staircase is very narrow. I can’t see the bottom. I’m going to take the first step down.”
“No!” The urgency in Melissa’s voice made Kamir swing toward her.
“Easy, Daughter. I’ve waited my whole life to find what may be at the bottom of this stairway.”
“Then you can wait a little longer. Please. Just until we can get better equipment.”
The screen before her showed the blurred shape of the stairs as her father took them.
“Three steps down now. The steps feel …”
“Damn!” Melissa muttered, as the picture wobbled and started to break up.
“… like they were chiseled at the same time as the walls and floor above. You know what that means, of course.”
“No! No, I don’t. …”
The sounds of Hazelhurst’s breath intermixed with the rustling noises of his descent. “Think, Daughter! Whoever built this chamber over the actual doorway wasn’t trying to entomb it; they only wanted to conceal it. Everything in the construction points to the fact that regular forays were made down here by the overchamber’s builders.” More rustling noises. “Difficult to date the work. Early Phoenician or even—That’s it! This reminds me of the way the Egyptian pyramids were constructed. That might give us more of a clue as to the dating. The steps are narrowly spaced. Don’t you understand what this means?”
“Any sign of Winchester’s killers?” Melissa could see virtually nothing now, the dim light giving little back to the camera.
Hazelhurst answered his own question when she failed to. “The builders of the overchamber didn’t construct these steps; they merely discovered the entrance to them, then sought to conceal and guard them. The steps were waiting when they came, waiting for who knows how long.” The old man’s voice turned reflective. “I wonder how far down they got. I wonder how far …”
Melissa estimated that her father had covered forty to forty-five steps now.
“There’s something down here,” he said suddenly.
“What?”
“Just a glimpse. I caught a glimpse. I think I’m almost to the bottom. It must lead into another chamber.”
“Stay where you are. Let me try and get a look. …”
“I’m starting to make sense of this construction now. If I’m right— Oh my God. …”
“Father, what is it? What do you see?”
“No! No! ”
Melissa squeezed close enough to the screen to draw static. “What’s going on? I can’t see anything !”
The camera wobbled, as her father took three rapid steps down.
“Daddy, get out of there!”
“Yes, I’m sure now,” Benson Hazelhurst’s slightly panicked voice returned. “At the bottom of the stairs, I can see … bodies. Aren’t you getting this?”
“Daddy, just get out of there.”
They must be the men who killed Winchester. But what hap—”
There was a sudden flash, and then the picture scrambled into oblivion.
“Daddy!”
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! …”
Her father’s high-pitched screech froze Melissa’s insides. Her breath left her in a rush, barely enough retained for another desperate cry.
“Daddy! …”
His scream gave way to a wet, slurping sound. What might have been grinding and tearing, or … chewing followed. The screen continued to show nothing. Melissa pounded its top in frustration.
“Get him up!” she yelled at Kamir.
Instantly he moved to the winch and reversed its pull. The steel lifeline grew taut, wouldn’t
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