Tomb Raiding PHD
Tomb Raiding PHD
I Fear No Evil Book Five
Martha Carr
Michael Anderle
TOMB RAIDING PHD (this book) is a work of fiction.
All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2018 Martha Carr and Michael Anderle
Cover by Andrew Dobell, www.creativeedgestudios.co.uk
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact support@lmbpn.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
LMBPN Publishing
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Las Vegas, NV 89109
First US edition, August 2018
The Oriceran Universe (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are Copyright (c) 2017-18 by Martha Carr and LMBPN Publishing.
Contents
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
Author Notes - Martha Carr
Author Notes - Michael Anderle
Other Revelation of Oriceran Universe Books
Books by Michael Anderle
Connect with The Authors
Tomb Raiding PHD Team
Thanks to the JIT Readers
Angel LaVey
James Caplan
John Ashmore
Peter Manis
Daniel Weigert
Larry Omas
Mary Morris
Keith Verret
If we’ve missed anyone, please let us know!
Dedications
From Martha
To everyone who still believes in magic
and all the possibilities that holds.
To all the readers who make this
entire ride so much fun.
And to my son, Louie and so many wonderful friends who remind me all the time of what
really matters and how wonderful
life can be in any given moment.
From Michael
To Family, Friends and
Those Who Love
To Read.
May We All Enjoy Grace
To Live The Life We Are
Called.
1
Shay crept through the hallway of the darkened Connecticut mansion with Lily trailing close behind. The tomb raider had made a promise to Peyton, and it was time to keep it.
Would have been nice to have his backup for this little job, but he’s already freaking out about his brother’s hackers, and the last thing I need is him freaking out in my ear as I confront his brother.
Randy Coolidge should have left well enough alone, but the man had let empire-sized greed push him into searching for anything that suggested Peyton might still be alive. If Randy found Peyton he’d find Shay, and then more people would have to die.
The idea of killing Randy, a man who’d placed a hit on his own brother, didn’t bother her much, but she knew it might destroy Peyton. Time to come up with a different plan.
I’m trying to keep you alive, Randy. You better fucking play along.
Lily all but glided behind the tomb raider. The teen Gray Elf’s footsteps barely caused a creak from the hardwood floors as the pair closed on their target’s room.
Shay gave the girl a nod. Lily nodded back. Her ski mask gave the whole situation a sinister air. The home invasion had been surprisingly easy. Randy had a lot of money, but not a lot of security. Usually, the kind of man who would casually order another man’s death was a little more paranoid. The lack of security suggested he thought he had no reason to be afraid.
The arrogant ass probably thought he didn’t need it for his remote home. Shay would enjoy puncturing his ego. That night he’d learn why he was never safe.
“Ready?” whispered Shay.
Lily nodded.
Time to get scared, Randy. Time to get as scared as Peyton, you asshole.
Shay kicked open the door and whipped out her 9mm. Lily flipped on the light switch near the door, but Randy Coolidge didn’t jerk awake or pull out a hidden weapon or artifact. Instead, the deadly threat to Peyton, the vicious brother who put out a hit on his own family member, continued snoring in his mammoth bed, oblivious to the ski-masked intruders standing in front of him.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Shay mumbled. A dramatic entrance was pointless without an audience.
Lily chuckled. “It just means we did a good job sneaking in here. We’re just too good.”
“Part of Operation Christmas Carol depends on making an impression on the man.” Shay gestured at him with her gun. “But the asshole has the gall to be fucking snoring.”
Lily frowned. “I’m still not sure I like the name. It’s almost summer. It just seems weird, you know?”
“Call it Operation Solstice Carol then. Whatever. I don’t give a shit. The point is we need to mindfuck him. Just blowing him away would create more attention and problems, even if the fucker really deserves it.” Shay shrugged and pulled out a small copper ring. She tossed it to Lily, and the teen snatched it out of the air. “The gnome yakked for a long time about his standard crap of using this thing for evil and the consequences, so think good thoughts or whatever.”
Lily glanced toward Randy. “Does what we’re doing count as evil?”
Shay shrugged. “Sometimes there is a very fine line. I’m trying to cut down on the number of people I might have to shoot. Whoever’s keeping track has to give us points for that.”
Lily eyed the ring. “And you’re sure it’s safe?”
“It’s just going to help us make our thoughts visible. I’d love to have it all the time, but Tubal-Cain looked like he was going to go full Rumpelstiltskin on me and demand my firstborn if I asked for them for more than a couple days. That gnome is useful, but I don’t trust him.”
Lily snickered and slipped it on, and Shay slipped on a second ring. It was warm to the touch.
The tomb raider marched over to the bed and stared down at Randy. “Wake up, asshole.”
He muttered something in his sleep and rolled to his other side.
“I said, wake up, asshole,” Shay repeated, this time louder.
Randy’s eyes fluttered open, and he stared up at the masked Shay. After a few seconds, he blinked, and his eyes widened.
“Shit.”
Shay patted her thigh with her gun. “Just to get this out of the way… Even though I really want to, I don’t plan on killing you. If I did, you’d already be dead. You would have never woken up.”
Randy’s gaze cut between Shay and Lily. “Then why bring the gun?”
“Because it’ll keep your attention on me and help persuade you not to do anything stupid that might increase the chance that I actually have to kill you.”
Shay had to admire the man’s calm demeanor under pressure.
“Call the cops or security or anything like that. Standard stupid shit.”
Randy nodded. “You’ve got my attention. So, you’re here to rob me? You want safe codes or something like that?”
Shay snorted. “Please. I make a lot of money, asshole, and I doubt you even have anything worth stealing. I don’t need your crappy paintings or second-rate vases. I’m sure half of them are fakes anyway.”
The man’s face twisted in indignation. Shay almost laughed, and Lily didn’t hold back her snort. Peyton’s brother was more irritated that she’d challenged his wealth than that she stood at his bedside with a gun. Such great priorities.
Randy crossed his arms over his chest. “If you’re not here to kill me, and you’re not here to rob me, why are you here?”
“To give you a glimpse into the past, present, and future. To let you understand that your present path will lead to ruin. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll heed my warning and change your life before it’s too late.”
Randy frowned, again looking between the intruders. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Tension suffused Shay’s muscles. Not being able to take care of the problem with brute force or skillful hacking made everything difficult. It was time for a little old-fashioned psychological manipulation. She needed Randy to accept that what he was doing would be a disaster, but she also needed to provide a reason to believe that her proposed solution would work. That required a little priming.
Even the rings, which would project images from their minds, wouldn’t help if Randy didn’t think Lily could see the future.
Of course, she could. The problem was she could only see fifteen minutes into the future. Not that their mark needed to know that.
Time to see how useful you are, Tubal-Cain.
Shay mentally envisioned the activation glyph for the ring.
A ghostly image of Peyton winked into existence just above Randy’s bed. The ghost Peyton lay in a pool of his own blood, and crimson covered his face from the bullet wound in his forehead.
Randy scurried backward, hissing.
Damn, that looks realistic. I did a good job of faking his death the first time. Maybe I missed my calling as a special-effects make-up artist.
“That’s nasty,” Lily murmured.
“Don’t worry.” Shay chuckled. “You know how this goes, right, Randy?”
“My name is Randall.”
“Sure, whatever, Randy. The point is, don’t worry. You can see the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future, but you can’t touch them.”
Randy snorted. “You’re supposed to be the Ghost of Christmas Past? Please.”
Shay shook her head. “Nah. We’re more like Jacob Marley.” She pointed toward the image of Peyton. “That’s the ghost.”
“What’s the point of this?” Randy spat.
“I already explained. It’s about making you see the error of your ways, so we need to start with the past, Randy. Can’t understand the future without understanding the past and the present, right?”
“What’s the point of showing me my dead brother?” His voice quivered at the word dead.
Yeah, thanks for confirming it.
Shay leaned forward and snorted. “There’s something there you don’t believe.”
Randy gritted his teeth and looked away. “Screw you.”
“Sorry, not my type, asshole.”
His hands clenched into fists. “That’s what you are? Some thugs my brother hired in revenge?” He snorted. “I’m surprised he finally gathered his balls.”
“That’s strange. I thought you just said your brother was dead.”
“Bullshit he’s dead. I know his death was faked.” Randy sneered. “You know what? I’m not begging you.” He pointed at Lily. “Or you.”
“Aw, but begging’s fun to hear,” Lily goaded.
“Screw you both. I’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve only protected my interests and my rights.”
Shay barked out a laugh. “Seriously? I think hiring a man to kill your brother ranks pretty high up there on the Naughty List. You’ve got a seriously skewed perspective on life there, Randy.”
“Why come here and do any of this? All you’ve done is confirm Peyton’s alive. If this was some brilliant plan to convince me otherwise, it’s failed horribly.”
“No. Peyton Coolidge is dead.” Shay pointed to the image. “He died that day. Problem is a certain someone won’t stop coming after him, so we’ve come to show you, Randy Scrooge, where you’re gonna end up if you keep chasing a ghost.”
A quick mental conjuring of another symbol wiped out Peyton’s image.
Shit. I would have just preferred some sort of incantation than having to concentrate like that. No wonder most magic doesn’t use that kind of thing.
Randy shuddered.
Little more freaked out than we’re letting on, huh? Good. I can work with that.
“What’s next?” he asked. “Going to show me his rotting corpse in the ground?”
“Nope. Consider me the Ghost of Christmas Present.”
“I thought you were supposed to be Jacob Marley.”
“I’ve got theatrical range.” Shay shook her head. “As for showing you a corpse, nope. Kind of pointless, don’t you think? I’m more interested in showing you your future. After all, you’re the one who isn’t dead.”
“My brother isn’t either.”
“He’s dead enough.” Shay pointed to Lily. “And the Ghost of Christmas Future over there is going to show you where you’ll end up if you keep looking for him.”
Randy snorted. “The future? Please. Your friend there can’t see the future.”
Lily took a deep breath. A spectral image of Randy appeared near the wall. He sat, leaning against a brick wall. He had a shaggy and an unkempt beard. His clothes were in tatters, and a hand-painted sign was lying on the ground next to him.
HUNGRY AND HOPELESS. PLEASE GIVE. GOD BLESS.
Shay resisted a face-palm. She should have been a little more specific about what image to sell to the man. Whatever happened to Randy Coolidge in the far future, the tomb raider doubted it’d involve him begging on a street corner.
Prison would be nice, but she’d settle for him just leaving Peyton the hell alone.
The incredulous look on Randy’s face suggested he didn’t buy the pathetic vision of the future either.
Time to sell this shit.
“That’s what waits for you if you keep going after the ghost of your brother, Randy,” Shay insisted.
“Bullshit.”
Shay had to give the man credit. Most men would have been more intimidated by the presence of two ski-masked intruders, especially one with a gun. Randy had a definite hard edge his brother lacked.
The man rolled out of bed and marched over to his homeless specter. “This is what you expect me to believe? This is nothing but illusions. Tricks. You think you can impress me with something any half-rate witch could pull off?”
Lily frowned. “Not illusions. The future, you arrogant ass.”
Shay nodded her agreement.
“The future? You expect me to believe you can see the future? You sound like a kid. What, you show up with some twelve-year-old boy and expect me to be scared?”
Lily snorted. She was more insulted at the idea Randy thought she was a tween boy than his disbelief in her abilities.
Shay sighed. Maybe I need to sell the danger a teensy bit more to this asshole.
She marched right up to Randy and slammed a fist into his stomach. He howled and dropped to the ground clutching his middle.
Sometimes a little pain can be clarifying, and this asshole needs to get that we mean business.
“If you’re going to kill me,” he wheezed, “then just go ahead and do it. Like I told you before, I won’t beg. I never beg.”
>
Shay rolled her eyes. “And I told you already this isn’t about killing you, but if you don’t believe me about the future, why don’t you give my friend here a little test? Something that we can see in the next few minutes. That way nobody has to wait around in the middle of the night.”
Pain still lining his face, Randy managed to sit up. “You can see the future?” He nodded toward a clock on the wall. “In one minute, I’ll stick fingers up behind my back. How many? And thirty seconds after that, how many will I change to?”
Lily scoffed. “That’s easy. It’ll be—”
“Write it down,” Shay commanded. “That way he can’t try and play games.”
The Gray Elf’s ability to see the future had a lot of implications concerning the nature of cause and effect that Shay didn’t even want to think about. She needed to at least minimize the chance of Randy screwing up the use of an already unreliable power.
Shay walked over to a desk in the corner of the room and grabbed an expensive monogrammed fountain pen and a notepad. She handed them to Lily and enjoyed Randy’s glare.
The girl scribbled down two numbers with a frown. She gave the pad back to Shay, and the tomb raider turned it away from Randy.
Only the steady tick of the clock kept the silence at bay as everyone waited. The first minute passed, and Randy held up his fingers. Two.
Shay didn’t react. The next half-minute ticked by, and the man held up five fingers.