F. Paul Wilson - The Tomb

An idea struck him. He lifted his head and turned to Kolabati.

"Does that necklace really work?"

She started and her expression became guarded. "What do you mean, 'work'?"

"What you told me. Does it really make you invisible to the rakoshi?"

"Yes, of course. Why?"

Jack couldn't imagine how such a thing could be, but then he had never imagined that such a thing as a rakosh could be. He held out his hand.

"Give it to me."

"No!" she said, her hand darting to her throat as she jumped to her feet and stepped back.

"Just for a few minutes. I'll sneak below, find my way up to the deck, unlock the door, and let you out."

She shook her head violently. "No, Jack!"

Why was she being so stubborn?

"Come on. You don't know how to pick a lock. I'm the only one who can get us both out of here."

He stood up and took a step toward her but she flattened herself against the wall and screamed.

"No! Don't touch it!"

Jack froze, confused by her response. Kolabati's eyes were wide with terror.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I can't take it off," she said in a calmer voice. "No one in the family is ever allowed to take it off."

"Oh, come—"

"I can't, Jack! Please don't ask me!" The terror was creeping back into her voice.

"Okay-okay!" Jack said quickly, raising his hands, palms out, and stepping back. He didn't want any more screaming. It might attract a rakosh.

He walked over to the hole in the floor and stood there thinking. Kolabati's reaction baffled him. And what she had told him about no one in the family being allowed to take the necklace off was untrue—he remembered seeing Kusum without it just last night. But it had been obvious then that Kusum had wanted to be seen by his rakoshi.

Then he remembered something else.

"The necklace will protect two of us, won't it?"

Kolabati's brow furrowed. "What do you—oh, I see. Yes, I think so. At least it did in your apartment."

"Then we'll both go down," he said, pointing to the hole.

"Jack, it's too dangerous! You can't be sure it will protect you!"

He realized that and tried not to think about it. He had no other options.

"I'll carry you on my back—piggy-back. We won't be quite as close as we were in the apartment, but it's my only chance." As she hesitated, Jack played what he hoped was his ace: "Either you come down with me or I go alone with no protection at all. I'm not waiting here for your brother."

Kolabati stepped forward. "You can't go down there alone."

Without another word, she kicked off her sandals, hiked up her sari, and sat on the floor. She swung her legs into the hole and began to lower herself through.

"Hey!"

"I'll go first. I'm the one with the necklace, remember?"

Jack watched in amazement as her head disappeared below the level of the floor. Was this the same woman who had screamed in abject terror a moment ago? Going first through that hole took a lot of courage—with or without a "magic" necklace. It didn't make sense.

Nothing seemed to make much sense anymore.

"All right," she said, popping her head back through. "It's clear."

He followed her into the darkness below. When he felt his feet touch the suspended walkway, he eased himself into a tense crouch.

They were at the top of a high, narrow, tenebrous corridor. Through the slats of the walkway Jack could see the floor a good twenty feet below. Abruptly, he realized where he was: This was the same corridor he had followed to the aft cargo hold last night.

Kolabati leaned toward him and whispered. Her breath tickled his ear.

"It's good you're wearing sneakers. We must be quiet. The necklace clouds their vision but does not block their hearing." She glanced around. "Which way do we go?"

Jack pointed to the ladder barely visible against the wall at the end of the walkway. Together they crawled toward it. Kolabati led the way down.

Halfway to the floor she paused and he stopped above her. Together they scanned the floor of the corridor for any shape, any shadow, any movement that might indicate the presence of a rakosh. All clear. He found scant relief in that. The rakoshi could not be far away.

As they descended the rest of the way, the rakoshi stench grew ever stronger. Jack felt his palms grow slick with sweat and begin to slip as they clung to the iron rungs of the ladder. He had come through this same corridor in a state of ignorance last night, blithely unaware of what waited in the cargo hold at its end. Now he knew, and with every step closer to the floor his heart increased its pounding rhythm.

Kolabati stepped off the ladder and waited for Jack. During his descent he had been orienting himself as to his position in the ship. He had determined that the ladder lay against the starboard wall of the corridor, which meant that the cargo hold and the rakoshi were forward to his left. As soon as his feet hit the floor he grabbed her arm and pulled her in the opposite direction. Safety lay toward the stern…

Yet a knot of despair began to coil in his chest as he neated the watertight hatch through which he had entered nad exited the corridor. He had secured that hatch behind him last night. He was sure of it. But perhaps Kusum had used it since. Perhaps he had left it unlocked. He ran the last dozen feet to the hatch and fairly leaped upon the handle.

It wouldn't budge. Locked!

Damn!

Jack wanted to shout, to pound his fists against the hatch. But that would be suicide. So he pressed his forehead against the cold, unyielding steel and began a slow mental count from one. By the time he reached six he had calmed himself. He turned to Kolabati and drew her head close to his.

"We've got to go the other way," he whispered.

Her eyes followed his pointing finger, then turned back to him. She nodded.

"The rakoshi are there," he said.

Again she nodded.

Kolabati was a pale blur beside him as Jack stood there in the dark and strained for another solution. He could not find one. A dim rectangle of light beckoned from the other end of the corridor where it opened into the main hold. They had to go through the hold. He was willing to try almost any other route but that one. But it was either back up the ladder to the dead end of the pilot's cabin or straight ahead.

He lifted Kolabati, cradling her in his arms, and began to carry her toward the hold, praying that whatever power her necklace had over the rakoshi would be conducted to him as well. Halfway down the corridor he realized that his hands were entirely useless this way. He put Kolabati back on her feet and took two of the Cricket lighters from his pockets, then motioned to her to hop on his back. She gave him a small, tight, grim smile and did as directed. With an arm hooked behind each of her knees, he carried her piggy-back style, leaving his hands free to clutch a Cricket in each. They seemed ridiculously inadequate, but he derived an odd sort of comfort from the feel of them in his palms.

He came to the end of the corridor and stopped. Ahead and to their right, the hold opened before them. It was brighter than the passageway behind, but not by much; darker than Jack remembered from last night. But Kusum had been on the elevator then with his two gas torches roaring full force.

There were other differences. Details were scarce and nebulous in the murky light, but Jack could see that the rakoshi were no longer clustered around the elevator. Instead, some forty or fifty of them were spread throughout the hold, some crouched in the deepest shadows, others slumped against the walls in somber poses, still others in constant motion, walking, turning, stalking. The air was hazed with humidity and with the stink of them. The glistening black walls rose and disappeared into the darkness above. The high wall lamps gave off meager, dreary light, such as a gibbous moon might provide on a foggy night. Movements were slow and languorous. It was like looking in on a huge, candlelit opium den in a forgotten corner of hell.