The Project 04 - Black Harvest

neglected look. A central bell tower rose to a single green dome topped by an Orthodox cross. The hillside above the church was dotted with old buildings sliding into disrepair. A monastery, from the looks of it long abandoned. Not much was happening at the church of St. George.
    The entrance doors were made of heavy wooden planks and locked with a large, rusted padlock that looked like it might have been new when the church was built.
    Nick looked around.
    "No sign of a caretaker. We need to get inside." He jiggled the lock. It was old but it was strong.
    Ronnie walked over to the junk under the scaffolding. He poked around in the debris, stooped and picked up a two foot length of steel rebar.
    "Try this."
    "You're going to break in?" Selena said.
    "You got a better idea?"
    Nick inserted the rebar through the u-shape of the lock, braced against the door and levered down. The lock broke. He tossed it aside. He pulled one of the doors open. They stepped inside and he pulled the door closed behind them.
    The interior was lit by sunlight filtering through an arched stained glass window picturing St. George slaying the dragon. In the front of the church, the altar was draped in a red cloth and backed by three large wooden screens. Exposed beams blackened with age crossed the ceiling high above the church floor. Lamps of cut glass hung on long chains at regular intervals. Doors to either side of the altar led to the arms of the cross. The faint aftermath of incense lingered over rows of carved wooden pews.
    Next to the door was a dusty wooden table with brochures. Selena picked one up.
    "The current building dates from 1664," she read. "The original church was built in the eleventh century on the ruins of a Greek temple dedicated to the goddess of the harvest."
    "Demeter , " Nick said.
    "This mentions the statue of Erinys. It was found during the reconstruction. The brochure says the temple site still exists under the present building."
    She kept reading. "The Greek temple was located over a natural limestone formation of caves that are thought to have been an ancient mineral spring. When the first church was built the caves were converted into crypts for the monks."
    "You mean they're still there?" Nick picked up a brochure.
    "Looks like it. They stopped putting bodies in after the new church was built."
    "If it was part of the Greek temple there might be something there."
    "Sure there is," Ronnie said. "Lots of bones. Dead monks."
    "Hell, we've come this far. This is our last shot. After this we have no leads."
    "I don't like bones." Ronnie shook his head.
    "You wanted to see a dinosaur."
    "That's different. Those are big bones. Lizard kind of bones. Human bones, they're bad luck."
    "Boys." Selena interrupted. "Cut it out. Let's look for an entrance."
    There was nothing obvious. They looked in the rooms to the side of the church. After twenty minutes they still hadn't found it.
    Selena looked down at an old Turkish rug placed to the side of the altar.
    "Nice rug. Probably two hundred years old." She looked around. The rest of the floor behind the altar was unadorned.
    "Why put a rug here?" she said. She lifted the corner and pulled it aside. A wooden door was set into the floor with a ring at either end. Ronnie and Nick lifted it away. A flight of narrow steps descended into blackness. A dry, old smell drifted up to meet them.
    "Déjà vu all over again," Nick said.
    "It's not the same. We know what's down there this time." Even so, Selena seemed nervous. The last time the three of them had gone down a flight of steps into the dark it had almost killed them.
    "We need light."
    "You don't have your flashlight? I thought you always carried one."
    She was right. He usually did.
    "Not this time." Nick went to the altar. He took down two large candles. "These will do." There were matches. He lit the candles, handed one to Ronnie and walked over to the opening.
    The steps ended twenty feet below. A narrow passage led away into darkness between rough stone walls. They started down the steps.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

    Sometimes Elizabeth wished she'd decided to become a d octor after all. Maybe an obstetrician. That would be good, to bring new life into the world. Or a surgeon. High tech lasers. Powerful glasses, blue scrubs and masks. The quiet sounds of technology in the background while her dedicated team helped her cut out bad things that made people ill and crazy.
    The files that crossed her desk on any given day would make