Hope & Fury (Heroes & Demons Book 2)

“I hate bad guys,” Rick informed Andrew, rather matter-of-factly. “And I hate being blown up – again. Are you tiring of that experience?”

He sloughed a large amount of dirt and smaller rocks from his chest and managed to get into a sitting position. The air still hung with the smoke and debris of the explosion, his skin felt coated in a thick layer of dust. Judging by Andrew’s unusually grey appearance, he figured they both were after all covered like the back of his Aunt Judy’s fridge. Only their lint was much older than either of them could remember. Andrew probably could tell him though.

“I take it that we’re trapped?” Andrew asked him, throwing a small boulder off his leg. It throbbed in pain but it didn’t appear to be broken. He tested it out by hobbling into a half-standing position, leaning on the nearby ark for support. He knew it was a priceless artefact but right now it was just part of the debris of the explosion. When...if...they managed to get back to the surface – then it would become a priceless artefact again.

As a chunk came off temporarily losing him his balance, he hoped to god it wasn’t ‘that’ ark. The whole place seemed to finally be falling apart – whether it was from the force of the explosion or the slow degradation that comes with centuries, millennia, of slow rot.

“Good guess,” Rick replied. He too decided to pull himself into a standing position and survey their situation. The blast damage was more apparent than just the layers of dust littering the immediate area – there were scorch marks all up the walls of the entrance which they’d come through. The two ornate Greek pillars which originally had flanked the opening to the Library had collapsed inwards and filled the entrance. Their way out was blocked, it would take hours to shift – even if the two of them were up to the challenge. Without modern machinery, they probably weren’t. “Can’t you just teleport through it?”

Andrew surveyed the ruins of their only way out with his eyes for the longest minute, before he slowly shook his head.

“Without telling how far the blockage extends, there’s no way I could just ‘zap’ through it,” he explained. “I could get stuck inside the rock and then we’d both be in for it. There has to be another way.”

“Nothing about being unsure whether you should saunter off in search of help, leaving your good friend trapped inside a windowless tomb?” Rick asked though Andrew couldn’t tell just how much or little he was joking. “I feel dismayed.”

Andrew elected to ignore his prattling and decided instead on a different and perhaps more productive plan of action.

“Perhaps we should explore a little,” he suggested, already testing out his leg to see how well it was doing. It was attempting to seize but he would be fine – he wasn’t out for the count yet. All in all, it could do with a little bit of exercise.

“I thought you said Alexander sealed this place and tried to ensure no one would ever find it,” Rick pointed out, “I somehow don’t think he’d leave the back door open.” He muttered to himself, “So many jokes, so little time.”

Andrew elected to ignore him and instead headed further into the stacks of treasures. He was still fighting his inner nerd with all his might but so far he was succeeding. There were things there he recognized, plenty he didn’t – and some things that seemed entirely out of place. But they were all discoveries for another time. He heard Rick hobbling along behind him, and continued on his path.

Although the library was a grander scale than many, it wasn’t eternal. He soon saw the large carved feature wall which dominated the back of the Library where they’d initially found the two men. It depicted an unusual figure – a man holding an orb aloft standing in front of a giant pyramid.

“You think Alex knew more about the Temple than we do?” Rick asked him, although Andrew couldn’t tell if he was being rhetoric, sarcastic or serious. The question was answered for him, “Well, for a half-blind bisexual he sure got around.”

Andrew hung his head, for once done with the niceties.

“Do you ever shut up?” he asked him.

“It passes the time,” Rick reacted. He cast his arms wide, indicating their surroundings or the situation, it amounted to both. “We’ve got nothing but it. And each other of course. I think you’ll agree we’re screwed then.”

“Fine, if we have so much time and you like to talk so much – why don’t you tell me how the hell we get out of here,” Andrew snapped at him. “I presume you’re now so eager to get back to your new friend?”

“Even if I am, so far he’s less dangerous than yours,” Rick snapped back. Etiquette had gone out of the window as far as both of them were concerned. Rick wasn’t worried – they’d needed to tear each other apart for a while. It was like the old storm had returned, been brooding for several years and now had broken.

“You don’t want to talk about Janet,” Andrew warned him. “You don’t even think her name.”

“Sure, let’s just sweep it under the bloody carpet again.”

“What is there to say? What do you want to hear?” Andrew demanded of him. “Do you want to know what it was like for me to watch her die? To watch you shoot her until there was nothing left but ragged flesh? You killed her in front of me and a part of me died.”

“She killed Ben,” Rick replied as if he needed reminding. “I watched him die and he was innocent. Your…bitch...she wasn’t anymore.”

Andrew shook his head and turned away but Rick was sick of Andrew turning his back on him, ignoring what had happened as if was a bad dream that would eventually go away. As the burning memory of her eyes when she died would attest, Rick could never forget – and he would make sure Andrew wouldn’t either.

“A part of you didn’t die that day, Andrew,” Rick snapped at him, his anger rising even more now, “That’s just poetic bullshit. Whatever feelings you’d had left for Janet died on that rooftop before you banged the good doctor. So don’t you dare tell me that you’re angry at me because I killed the woman you loved – you didn’t love her anymore. How could you? You loved only a memory of someone who might as well have died down in that Temple.”

“So what is it then? Why am I mad at you?” Andrew challenged.

“I know what’s eating away at you, has been for months,” Rick continued, “She believed. No matter what twisted things that monster showed her, you’re pissed off because somewhere deep down in her heart she believed that you would leave her there to die. It’s what that thing exploited in her. Something that was there all along. She spoiled your perfect fairy-tale image of what love was meant to be, she pissed all over your precious memory of her. You’re mad at me not because I killed the woman you claimed to love so much, who supposedly loved you...you’re furious because I robbed you of the chance to kill her yourself.”

Rick knew it was coming but did nothing to defend himself as Andrew punched him once, hard in the jaw. He stumbled back, his bad knee giving out during the explosion in his face. He managed to keep his footing by bracing on the nearby sarcophagus but he could taste the sweet copper tang of blood in his mouth already. Absently with one hand, he brushed some of the dribble on his split lip away.

“I’m not like you, Rick,” Andrew told him, more sadly than anything else, “I’m not a killer.”

That one phrase hurt more than the punch.

“Andrew…”

“Rick, if there is ever a time in your life to shut the hell up – it’s now.”

“Okay, so I should stay quiet about the light coming from that crack in the wall? Will do.”