Curse of the Sands Read online

  Contents

  Also By Martin Ferguson

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  The Relic Hunters

  Historical Note

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Curse Of The Sands

  Relic Hunters

  Copyright © 2017 Martin Ferguson

  SECOND EDITION

  All rights reserved.

  No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form without written consent from the author. Except in the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a piece of fiction. Any names, characters, businesses, places or events are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, events or locations is purely coincidental.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you are reading this book and have not purchased it for your use only, then you should return it to your favorite book retailer and purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Cover by Tom Roberts of Zoom Illustration

  Editing by Karen Sanders Editing

  Formatting by Pink Elephant Designs

  Also By Martin Ferguson

  Relic Hunters:

  Eagle of the Empire

  Curse of the Sands

  War of the Damned

  Blood of the Dragon

  DULCIUS EX ASPERIS

  THE FERGUSON CLAN MOTTO

  1

  ABDUL—Siwa Oasis, Egypt

  In all my years, I have never seen such a storm. The sand tears at my flesh and chokes me with each breath. The strength of the storm threatens to tear down my own home. My family is below, locked in the cellar, praying for the storm to pass, but I am the crazy one, climbing to the highest floor, battered by wind and sand. The lights flicker and fail, plunging me into darkness as the power goes out.

  ‘Come back!’ I hear my wife plead. ‘Come back, you fool!’

  I cannot. I must use every ounce of my will and energy to go on. I have to see it. I must see it.

  The flashes are blinding and the crack and boom of thunder is deafening. Again and again, it roars and echoes. Putting my own life at risk is madness.

  ‘God, give me strength,’ I ask, forcing myself on.

  I reach the top of the stairs, forcing the door open inch by inch with all the energy reserves I have, until I emerge onto the roof to be battered down instantly by nature. With great pain and growing exhaustion, I crawl, reaching the far side of the roof and a clear line of sight of the other buildings. Lightning strikes from the heavens, all hitting the same point on the ground. It is unnatural; never witnessed before.

  Where they strike shocks me most. It appears to rise from the desert ground, causing the very sands to part.

  ‘I don’t believe it!’ I scream, ecstatic. ‘I don’t believe it!’

  2

  ADAM—Telluride, Colorado, USA

  ‘Two miles to target.’

  My name is Adam Hunter, and I am a seventeen-year-old college dropout. People call me irresponsible, foolish, reckless, and for the most part, they’re probably right.

  Two months ago, I was still studying (or failing, to be more precise) lost amongst books and exams. Now, I am riding a borrowed Harley Davidson motorcycle through a busy ski resort town in the middle of Colorado. Oh, and somehow, I am an operative for the British Museum, or as some call us, a hunter, seeking and protecting historical relics across the globe. Yeah, I still can’t believe it myself.

  The town around me is picturesque, settled at the foot of the snow topped San Juan Mountains. The ski resort is the main attraction and the streets are busy with tourists, skiers, and happy families. I guide the motorcycle down the wide roads – nothing seems amiss about this place at all.

  ‘Are you sure I’m in the right place?’ I ask into my headset, which looks like a silver rimmed set of glasses. It has a built-in microphone, headphones, and the latest in lens display technology.

  ‘I’m sure,’ Abbey replies. I smile at the warm familiarity of her Irish twang. It’s already got me out of many scrapes. ‘Did you know Telluride was originally a rough and tumble silver and gold mining town long before it was a ski resort? Butch Cassidy and his gang, The Wild Bunch, robbed their first bank here in 1889.’

  ‘Oh, really,’ I say, feigning interest. She continues to talk, giving me more background to the area than I can possibly take in or remember. I turn on the radio strapped to my arm and crank up the volume. Childish, I know, but it works.

  ‘Okay, okay!’ Abbey yells over the headset. ‘I get the message!’

  ‘Where next?’ I ask, turning down the radio with a smirk.

  ‘The far side of town. You can’t miss it.’

  Abbey’s right; I spot my target from three streets away. Fences, sandbags, barbed wire, and a lot of guards in full US army uniforms and gear. At the center of it all is the school district.

  ‘Em and Dave in position?’ I ask.

  ‘You don’t need to worry, little brother.’ I hear Matt’s voice over the headset. ‘Just stick to the plan.’

  ‘Humour me,’ I reply, disliking his command over me.

  ‘Dave?’ I hear him ask.

  Matt, my brother, is the one who should be here; he’s the clever one – the ‘brilliant’ one. I am just here by dumb luck.

  ‘Dave?’ Matt asks again.

  ‘Yeah, yeah. I hear you,’ the rough voice of Dave Conway, former Special Forces soldier, replies. ‘I’m ready and waiting if needed. Hurry up. It’s bloody freezing here.’

  ‘As for Emma,’ Abbey, our historian and human encyclopedia says, ‘well, you can see for yourself.’

  The display on the left lens indicates a point in the mountains which surround the town ahead of me. The image zooms in closer, fixing on a target, until I can see a young woman, Emma Lovell, climbing down amongst the rock and snow. Her purple and red hair gives her identity away immediately. From this angle, my view is mainly of her backside.

  ‘I’ve got a great view of her perfectly formed… descent from here,’ I say with a grin.

  ‘You had better not be talking about me!’ she yells over the headset.

  ‘Emma and Dave are support only, Adam,’ Matt tells me. ‘This is recon, nothing more. Gain the intel we need and leave.’

  ‘This is just another test isn’t it?’
I ask.

  ‘Stick to the plan,’ Matt repeats.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ I mutter under my breath.

  ‘Telluride School District,’ Abbey states as I steer the motorcycle on closer. ‘The district is made up of four schools. The elementary, intermediate, middle, and high school.’

  ‘And the army has the district all cordoned off,’ I add, surveying the area. ‘Looks like Charles’ contact in the military might be right.’

  ‘Only one way to know for certain.’

  ‘Yeah, sure,’ I reply. ‘No worries.’

  I avoid the main gates, seeing them flanked by guard towers and far too many armed men for even my liking. Circling the perimeter, I find a smaller, less secure entrance, guarded by only a single man – gates locked behind him. He has no insignia, no emblem of his unit, or anything identifiable on his uniform.

  ‘Stop right there,’ the soldier warns, raising his weaponry towards me as I approach. He eyes me with contempt, instantly annoyed at my presence.

  ‘Sorry, mate. I can’t hear you!’ I shout, cranking up the volume on the radio at my arm as I dismount the motorcycle and pace closer.

  ‘Turn that down!’ he yells at me.

  ‘I can’t!’ I lie, pretending to fumble with the controls and only succeeding in cycling through radio stations. News, weather, something about the greatest sandstorm ever recorded – all of it screams from the radio before finally, the music returns even louder.

  ‘You make a very convincing idiot,’ Abbey tells me. ‘You sure it’s an act?’

  ‘Damn it!’ the soldier curses, pacing towards me and grabbing the radio.

  This is my chance – distract and act. With my free hand, I reach for the base unit of the soldier’s comms set strapped at his waist so I can attach a hacking device. This will enable our team to listen-in on all their communications. Just as I’m about to secure the device, he pulls away, alarm in his eyes. I fear I’m discovered before he takes a hurried step back, listening intently to his headset.

  I lower the volume of the music and remove my motorcycle helmet before hearing gunshots sound out.

  ‘Dave, Em, was that you?’ I whisper in shock.

  ‘Nope,’ Dave replies.

  ‘Get out of there, Adam,’ Emma warns me.

  ‘Who are you speaking to?’ the soldier yells at me with raised handgun, terror in his eyes. ‘Who are you with? What have you done?’

  An alarm sounds across the school district, a droning unending warning.

  ‘Woah, calm down,’ I try to tell the soldier, raising my hands as I stare down the barrel of his gun. ‘This isn’t me.’

  From within the fenced off school district, more gunshots sound out and I hear panicked voices. A man appears from across the yard. His clothes are soaked in blood. He staggers forward, twitching as he moves. Seeing the soldier and me, the man unleashes an inhuman screech before running towards us, crazed and screaming. His eyes freak me out most of all; yellow and hideously bloodshot with dark green veins that spill out of his eyes and across his skin – it’s the grossest thing I have ever seen.

  The soldier yells, ‘The contagion has breached quarantine!’ into his headset and fires his gun at the raging man until he finally collapses in a torn-up heap on the floor.

  The soldier turns his eyes to me. ‘I’ll ask you just one more time. What are you doing here?’ he demands, turning his weapon back to me.

  I strike before he can get me in his sights. Grabbing the barrel of the gun and pushing it away from me, I slam my motorcycle helmet across his face. He stumbles, stunned, and it is all the chance I need. In my hands is his military baton, taken from his belt as he faltered. I hit once, hard, knocking the soldier out cold.

  ‘Sorry,’ I say, dragging him out of sight.

  ‘What are you doing, Adam?’ Matt demands. ‘This was not part of the plan.’

  ‘Was the military gunning down people in the middle of the school district part of the plan?’ I snap.

  I activate the hacking device and instantly hear the cries and warnings of more soldiers who are within the compound.

  ‘Inner labs have been breached!’

  ‘Arrgghh! Help! Arrgghh!’

  ‘Doctor Leeds has been contaminated! The infected are breaking through!’

  ‘Breaches detected in the west and south buildings!’

  ‘The virus has broken containment! All personnel put your gas masks on, now!’

  ‘All units stationed on the perimeter, do not let any

  personnel leave the compound, whether they are infected or not. That is a direct order. Kill and destroy all infected.’

  More terrifying, inhuman screams echo across the district, met by a spattering of gunshots. I rifle through the soldier’s pockets quickly, recovering an ID door pass, which my glasses scan.

  ‘Should take just a moment,’ Abbey tells me before the insignia of a dagger stabbing down into a snake appears on the headset lens. ‘Covert Unit 57, Special Operations, known as the Crimson Knights. According to our records they are usually dispatched to investigate areas with perceived hazardous and biological threats…’

  Suddenly, a warning appears across the headset lens, words flashing red.

  CELESTE VIRUS DETECTED

  DESTROY THE SOURCE IMMEDIATELY

  ‘It can’t be…’ Matt says in shock before the words quickly disappear from the glasses.

  ‘Celeste Virus. That’s bad, right?’ I ask. It’s then I see a gas mask attached to the soldier’s equipment.

  ‘You need to get out of there, Adam,’ Matt orders. ‘Fall back to the rendezvous point. That goes for all of you. Em, Dave, fall back and regroup.’

  ‘This is General Walcott. Is the virus at risk of

  breaching the compound?’ a formal voice asks over the soldier’s headset.

  ‘Sir, we are doing all we can to contain the…’

  ‘Is the virus at risk of breaching the compound?’ the general repeats.

  ‘Yes,’ another voice finally concedes.

  ‘I am instigating the Clean Slate Protocol,’ the general says. ‘I am ordering all uninfected personnel to rendezvous at Site Three, twenty miles south of Telluride for thorough decontamination. I am instigating a cordon of thirty miles around the town. The Clean Slate Protocol will commence in fifteen minutes.’

  ‘Sir, what about the civilians?’ another voice on the headset asks.

  ‘There is no time to commence a full evacuation,’ the general says without remorse. ‘Do you understand the consequences if you are not clear of Telluride in fifteen minutes?’

  ‘Yes, Sir,’ a distant, stunned voice replies.

  ‘May God have mercy on us all,’ another voice prays.

  ‘Clean Slate. That mean what I think it does?’ I ask Matt and Abbey.

  ‘Firebomb the entire area by fighter jet,’ Abbey replies, her voice flat and full of sorrow. ‘Leave nothing alive, not even bacteria. No traces.’

  ‘And they’re willing to sacrifice all these people,’ I say, seeing the town behind me and knowing it is full of families.

  ‘You have to get out of there, Adam,’ Matt urges. ‘There’s nothing you can do. This is an order for all Echo Team to immediately evacuate the area.’

  ‘How many people live in Telluride?’ I ask.

  ‘Over two thousand three hundred, plus hundreds of skiers and tourists.’

  ‘Why did the glasses warn me to destroy the source of the virus?’ I ask. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Adam, you need to leave,’ Matt tells me.

  ‘What is the virus?’ I demand.

  ‘Airborne contagion,’ Abbey explains hurriedly. ‘The infected are driven feral, crazed. Destroy the source and you destroy the virus.’

  ‘And those already infected?’

  ‘They should return to normal in time without further inhalation of the virus.’

  I look back at the town. At least two thousand three hundred people who have no idea what is going on. Two thousand three hundred inn
ocents.

  Without thinking, I keep the soldier’s ID door pass and unclip his gas mask from his uniform, pulling it over my head. I search for his keys too, but they are nowhere to be found. With no other option, I take the soldier’s firearm and pull the trigger five times, destroying the lock on the gate. The recoil thunders up my arm, but once the gate swings open I throw the weapon away, knowing I would be useless with it. It took me five attempts to hit the lock, let alone a real, moving target.

  ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing, Adam!’ Matt yells at me. ‘I gave you an order to leave!’

  ‘Matt, shut up!’ I yell back as I mount the motorcycle and start up its engine. ‘I cannot just leave all these people behind to die. Could you do it?’

  He doesn’t answer initially.

  ‘This is too dangerous,’ he argues. ‘We have already warned the local authorities to evacuate…’

  ‘They will never get all those people clear in time!’

  ‘Adam, I am ordering you to leave!’ Matt yells at me.

  ‘Sorry, Abbey,’ I say, breaking a promise to her as I remove the glasses and fold them into my jacket.

  The droning siren echoes all around and gunfire and screaming can still be heard as I enter the school district. The compound is in utter disarray. Slowly, I guide the motorcycle on, careful of discovery by the remaining soldiers or the crazed – infected by whatever the hell virus it is.