Pompeii's Ghosts (A James Acton Thriller, #9) by J Robert Kennedy Page B

his mother’s eyes slowly died in front
of him, the will to live drained with each penetration, as the same evil was
unleashed upon her daughter, whose hand she held the entire time, next to her.
    Oh
God, please help her!
     
     

 
     

    Approaching Pompeii, Bay of Naples, Roman Empire
August 24 th , 79 AD
     
    Costa gripped the rail of the cutter, the smaller vessel far swifter
than the mighty vessels of the fleet that he could see lining the horizon
behind them, strangely lit by the late afternoon sun as he struggled to see in
the dark of the thick gray cloud overhead, any sign of the sun blotted out. A
curious light powder, dark gray in color, fell all around them, reminding him
of the ash left over from a hearty fire.
    As they
neared the shore the powder thickened, making it harder to breathe. He glanced
over at the Prefect and he seemed to be labored in his breathing. Costa had
overheard once of Plinius’ problem breathing after heavy exertion, and grew
concerned. Plinius glanced at him and pointed at a barrel of water. Costa
nodded and quickly filled a cup, bringing it to the man. He downed the fluid then
shoved Costa to the deck as he himself ducked.
    Rocks
the size of fists began to rain down on them, but as they hit they exploded
into smaller stones and dust, the embers left behind smoldering then
extinguishing themselves in wisps of smoke.
    “Watch
for fires!” ordered Plinius as he continued to ride the prow of the boat, his
eyes peering at the shore.
    “My
Lord! It’s too dangerous to land here!” yelled the Legate captaining the boat.
    “We have
no choice!” replied Plinius, turning his head back toward his underling.
“Fortune favors the brave!” he yelled. “Make for the shore, there!” He pointed
slightly to starboard and Costa felt his heart leap as he recognized the shore
mere paces from his master’s home, the once brilliantly white abode now
shrouded in a blanket of darkness. As he peered into the storm of what tasted
like ash he thought he saw movement on the roof, and after a few moments he was
able to make out the forms of soldiers desperately trying to sweep away the
accumulating debris. Costa looked at the deck of the boat and noticed it too
had already amassed enough that their footprints were now obvious.
    As the
boat neared the shore he gripped the rail, watching the house for any sign of
his master, praying he had had the sense to abandon it long ago, but knowing in
his heart that he never would. He spotted several soldiers with brooms and a
path that had been kept clear from the house to the shore when he heard Plinius
gasp audibly. Costa’s eyes darted back to the house and his jaw dropped as the
entire south wing collapsed.
    The
cutter sliced into the sandy beach and came to a halt, the sails dropped almost
immediately, Plinius jumping over the side, Costa far more clumsily following.
The chaos seen from the bay poorly foreshadowed the reality on the ground. The
ash was deep, small porous rocks covered the landscape, many giving an
unearthly glow as if Hades itself were trying to push through to this realm.
The air reeked of rotten eggs, the ground was piled almost waist high in ash,
some areas appearing even deeper. The water was a thick sludge that clung to
his bare legs. Though the sun was completely hidden above them, the temperature
was higher than normal, almost uncomfortable to bear and he quickly found his
body dripping in sweat as he followed Plinius to the main hall of the home, the
Prefect using the path kept clear by the soldiers, all of whom looked
exhausted.
    This
is hell on Earth!
    He stumbled
through layers of silk and cloth hanging across a doorway and into the large
dining area of the home that opened out onto the veranda overlooking the bay.
Dozens of torches had been lit to provide light, none coming from outside, and
all of the windows and doors had been covered to prevent ash from entering.
Despite their efforts, a thin layer still covered the floor, at the