The Truth Buried Deep Inside My Father’s Empty New Jersey Coffin
My father’s fingers flew across the keyboard, typing the numbers as I spoke them.
“More,” Raymond urged.
“The basement door, Natalie. What was the color?”
“Red,” I said, my eyes wide, staring at nothing.
“The red is the blood of the lamb.”
“Three.”
“Six.”
“Zero.”
“Eight.”
My head felt like it was splitting in two, a white-hot needle driving through my temple.
I gasped, falling to my knees on the cold concrete.
Mara reached out, her hand resting on my shoulder, anchoring me.
“She’s having a seizure,” Mara warned.
“Stop it!”
“Almost there,” Raymond muttered, his eyes locked on the screen.
“One more sequence, Natalie.”
“The final room. What did Voss say to you?”
I saw Voss’s face, younger, without the scar on his chin.
He was bending down, his hand resting on my forehead.
“You are the shield,” I whispered.
“And the sword.”
“Five.”
“Five.”
“Two.”
“One.”
The terminal let out a long, shrill beep.
The green screen turned bright blue, and a progress bar appeared.
*DECRYPTION COMPLETE.*
*UPLOADING TO SECURE RECEIVER…*
Raymond let out a long breath, his shoulders sagging.
“We did it,” he whispered.