Book of Days: A Novel (42 page)

"Not only that, but I couldn't hear you doing it from above, which means this vault is deep enough that we can relax a bit. Any noise we make down here won't be heard above."

Adrenaline pumped through Cameron. This had to be it.

He grinned at Ann and she returned it with one of her own. "You want to go first?" he said.

"Not a chance."

As Cameron stepped through the opening, he flicked off his flashlight and turned back toward Ann. "If it's real, we should see this at the same time."

She followed his lead and shut off her flashlight before stepping through the opening.

Silence surrounded them. If he didn't know Ann stood three feet from him, he could have felt like he was the only person alive on earth. Was this what death was like?

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

Their feet scuffed the floor as they shuffled forward a few feet.

"Let's do this." Cameron snapped on his flashlight.

A moment later Ann's flicked on and their lights filled the room. They stood in a large domed space with faded cedar paneling. The back wall was covered from floor to ceiling with shelves that held piles of parchments, each stack weighted down by familiar-looking rocks.

Cameron pulled Susan Hillman's stone out of his pocket. It was smaller, but it was the same as the stones on top of the parchments. Blood pounded through his head and adrenaline pushed through his body.

In the middle of the room a thick gray canvas covered a rectangular shape at least ten-feet long and five-feet wide.

Cameron looked at Ann and grinned. She raised both eyebrows and returned the smile.

The Book of Days. It had to be.

"Taylor Stone is worthy of an Oscar. He almost had me convinced it was only a legend." Cameron interlocked his fingers. "Shall we?"

As they stood at either end of the canvas, ready to throw it back, Cameron said, "Whatever is under here, thanks for going on this journey with me."

"My pleasure."

"Ready? One, two, three!"

They yanked off the cover, a snow storm of dust dancing in the glow of their flashlights.

Yes!

Cameron's knees went weak as his lips curled up.

They'd found it.

Cameron stared at the book almost afraid to approach it for fear it would vanish off the rough-hewn table it sat on. The dark brown leather cover looked ancient. Cracks ran throughout the surface and the leather strap that bound the book shut was graying. At the far left end of the book, cords the color of damp straw wound through the cover and the pages.

Cameron blew out a long, slow breath. Unbelievable. A tingling sensation ran up and down his arms. His dad's and Jessie's words were true. Answers. Finally.

"We did it, Ann."

She shifted from one leg to the other. "I want to know, even at this size, how every event, past, present and future, of every life is supposed to be contained in this book."

"Maybe the words are really small." He smiled and circled the massive tome slowly. "Maybe the words appear and disappear depending on who looks at the book. I'm serious. This is God we're talking about. Have some faith." He winked at her.

A title six inches high ran across the top of the page in a language Cameron didn't know. He stared at the book wondering what to do next. Open it of course. But to where? How would he search for his memories of Jessie in a book this size? How would he read the words if they weren't in English? It didn't matter how. He would figure it out even if it took years.

"Come on," Ann said. "Let's open it."

"My thought exactly." Cameron moved to the end of the book. He reached out and touched the corner of the cover. Like his father and Jessie had done?

He closed his eyes as they lifted the cover and set it on the table. "For you, Dad; for you, Jessie."

After a moment of silence he opened his eyes and looked at the first page. What? It couldn't be. A sensation of fire started in his feet and moved up his body in surges. By the time it reached his head, he felt ready to throw up.

He swallowed, looked up at the ceiling, then back down at the paper in front of him.

It hadn't changed.

The parchment was still blank.

He turned to the next page.

Nothing.

And the next.

More pages.

More nothing.

There was no writing on any of them.

CHAPTER 38

A dry heave pushed up from Cameron's stomach and he doubled over, then lurched forward and caught himself on the table.

"No." His knees buckled and he slumped to the floor and bit his lip. "This can't be happening."

"I'm sorry." Ann put her hand on his back.

"Where are the words? Where are they!"

"I don't know."

"I believed, I did. I believed the book was real."

"Shh, I hear something."

"I needed that book to be real. There has to be something we did wrong. There has to be some way to unlock it, some prayer we need to say, some code, maybe it's like invisible ink . . ."

But he knew none of those things would make words appear on the faded pages.

"Let's close it and get out of here."

She was right. It was over, time to go. He was too numb to argue.

They closed the book and packed up their gear.

As Cameron slung his pack over his shoulder he said, "It makes no sense. Why would—?"

Ann snapped her hand up to cover his mouth. "Our blender has grown feet," she mouthed. "Listen."

The faint scuffle of shoes or boots echoed off the concrete walls of the outer room.

"Cameron!"

The voice rang out like a gong and he knew instantly who it belonged to: Jason Judah.

A moment later Jason stood in the opening, bowing, grinning, and bouncing lightly on the toes of his dark green military boots. "Wowee!" Jason took a slow look around the room and then settled back on Cameron, a mocking smile on his face. "I must express my great gratitude for leading me here. It is highly appreciated."

Jason stepped through the opening and continued grinning as he stared at the book. "The Book of Days, in all her glory, resting peacefully in Taylor Stone's basement. Why doesn't that surprise me even minutely?"

Jason kept his flashlight shining on the book as he strolled around it. "As you know, Cameron, I had little belief there was an actual physical book till you came along. But your dad saw it when he was a child. And children often tell more truth than most adults. Taylor Stone for example." Jason leaned back and laughed. "I love to be proven wrong and to be proven right."

"How did you know we were here?"

"I've been following you, of course." Jason studied his fingers before looking up at Cameron and Ann. "Now please, how did you figure it out? I'm curious is all."

Cameron glanced at Ann. She was pale but stood as solid as the concrete at their feet. It looked like she was holding her breath.

"You are not going to tell me. I understand. Keeping all your secrets secret, right?" Jason motioned toward the book. "Do you mind if I . . . ?"

Cameron stepped away from the book. "Not at all, I'll be interested to see what you think."

Jason looked at the cover of the book. "Did you translate it?"

Neither of them answered.

"It's Hebrew. 'The Stories of All Times.'" He ran his fingers across the cover like he was touching silk. "God's book. Thousands and thousands of years old at the least. And thousands of years still to come. Will you help me open it, Cameron?"

"Sure."

As they lifted the cover he kept his gaze locked on Jason's face to see the moment when he realized the truth.

After they set the cover down Jason started turning pages. One. Ten. Twenty. "Is this a joke?" Jason pulled back from the book and blinked. "What is this?" His eyes switched back and forth from Cameron to Ann. "Where is the writing?"

"There isn't any," Cameron said.

"Explain to me where the words are. What do you do to make them appear?"

"There are no words."

Jason stared at them for twenty seconds before pulling a knife out of his belt and flashing his light over the blade. "This is an Mtech tactical bowie knife. It's extremely sharp." He lasered his eyes on Cameron. "Tell me how it works."

"What do you want me to say? It's a fraud. There are no words on any of the pages."

With one stride Jason grabbed Ann, yanked her back, and pressed the blade into her throat. "I've always liked you, Cameron, but I will gut her right now unless you tell me how to read the book."

"I told you! There's—"

A voice pierced the darkness behind them. "From the beginning, Jason, you've understood correctly what the Book of Days is. An idea. Only an idea."

Taylor Stone stood in the doorway.

"Put the knife down. They can't tell you anything."

Jason laughed.

"Now, Jason."

He released Ann and shoved her to the side. "So you're finally going to be the answer man, Stone?"

"Try me."

Taylor walked to the book, his eyes focused on Jason. "Get farther away from her."

Jason eased a half step to the right and pointed the knife at Taylor. "There, now talk."

Taylor looked at Ann. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, her face pale.

The instant Jason let Ann go, Cameron wrapped Ann in his arms. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"That's more adrenaline than I've ever gotten during a climb."

"Cameron," Taylor said, "I tried to keep you from finding this because I knew it would dash your dreams. I'm sorry."

"Stone, I want answers," Jason said. "What game are you playing?"

"No more games."

"Then talk." Jason motioned toward the book. "What is this thing?"

"There is an old Native American legend in Central Oregon that tells of a book of stories of every man's life. So I've always guessed that settlers from the early- to mid-1800s learned of the myth, tied it to Psalm 139:16, and created this book to symbolize their beliefs. You were closer to the truth than you knew."

"Why the charade all these years? Why not tell me instead of hiding it, denying you knew anything about the Book of Days?"

"Because until Cameron came along you were content in your belief that the book was an idea, and as you can now see, you were right. But if you discovered this symbol that was created to represent a spiritual crock-pot idea, you would try to get the book declared a historic artifact and fight me to get it moved out of here into your possession. Then you and your followers could worship it and draw more followers into your cancerous religion."

"Which I will do."

"Fine. Try it."

"When did you find it?" Jason asked Taylor.

"I think you should be more worried about Ann pressing charges than when I found an old pretend book."

"I'm not going to press charges; I just want him to leave."

"Answer me," Jason said.

"Ann?" Taylor asked.

"I'm fine."

Taylor glanced around the room, then ran his palm over the surface of the book. "I haven't been in this room for more than twenty years. It is a marvelous piece of history." He cracked his knuckles. "I found it in my midthirties and brought it here shortly after."

"Where did you find it?" Cameron asked.

"That is a story for another time."

"Is this what my dad saw when he was a kid?"

"I would imagine. It's the most plausible explanation for what he told you."

"You are a platinum piece of work, Stone." Jason ran the bowie knife up and down the side of his pants.

"Thank you." Taylor stared at Jason.

Jason started to say something to Taylor, then stopped and turned to Cameron. "I still say the man is a liar and can't be trusted." He pointed at Taylor. "We're not finished."