Babel Found

  BABEL FOUND

  A Hank Boyd Adventure - Book 3

  By Matthew James

  Description:

  Hank Boyd is emotionally spent, unsure of what to do next. Does he call it quits and hang up his shovel, or does he push forward and endure? The decision is unfortunately made easier when he and his team are systematically attacked.

  Everyone is under fire and fighting for their lives as they try desperately to escape and regroup. The enemy is merciless and unconcerned with who gets in their way.

  Through information acquired from a past foe, they discover that not only was the fabled Tower of Babel real, but its ruins house an evil so powerful that not even Hank, still imbued with the might of An’tala, can stop them if they obtain their prize… Him.

  Hank Boyd must be taken alive.

  The rest can die.

  ALSO BY MATTHEW JAMES

  THE HANK BOYD ADVENTURES

  Blood and Sand

  Mayan Darkness

  Babel Found

  THE GOD BLOOD NOVELS

  Plague

  Evolve (coming soon)

  STANDALONE NOVELS

  Dead Moon

  PRAISE FOR “PLAGUE”

  "PLAGUE erupts from the pages in a steroid-filled tornado of terror and shock!"

  —SUSPENSE MAGAZINE

  “It doesn’t take long for this action-packed story to kick into gear and keep the pages racing faster than a terrified gazelle on the Serengeti… A triumphant series opener that will leave readers chomping for the next installment!”

  —Richard Bard, Bestselling author of BRAINRUSH

  "PLAGUE is a monstrously thrilling read! If you like thrills, chills, and nonstop action, then Matthew James may just be your next favorite author!"

  —John Sneeden, Bestselling author of THE SIGNAL

  PRAISE FOR “THE HANK BOYD ADVENTURES”

  “Matthew James and the HANK BOYD SERIES have been added to my must-read list!”

  —J.M. LeDuc, Bestselling author of SIN

  “BLOOD AND SAND takes readers on a spellbindingly treacherous journey that also manages to have fun along the way!”

  —Rick Chesler, Bestselling author of HOTEL MEGALODON

  “The next HANK BOYD ADVENTURE can’t come soon enough!”

  —David McAfee, Bestselling author of 33 A.D

  PRAISE FOR “DEAD MOON”

  “DEAD MOON is a high-octane thrill ride filled with action, suspense, sadness, and of course, monsters! An amazing read!”

  —Zach Cole, author of TSUCHIGUMO

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Wait—what? Did I just release my fifth book? For real? It’s actually six if you include the Blood and Sand: Anniversary Edition, but who’s counting? Either way, that’s pretty insane if you ask me. It was only two short years ago that I even decided to write the first one. The rest, as they say, is history. Time really does fly when you’re having fun, doesn’t it?

  I again am so blessed to have some awesome people supporting me. I’d like to thank the wonderful people over at The Mr. Caffeine Show for having me on talking about Plague as well as some of my other projects. I had a blast. It’s definitely something I’ll never forget, being my first video interview—and with an over-caffeinated puppet no less! Please check them out and show some support if you don’t mind.

  And of course, my readers. I’ll always take the time to thank you. You are truly the reason Hank and Co. have three books and why I plan on writing many more in the near future.

  Thank you all.

  For my readers.

  BABEL FOUND

  A Hank Boyd Adventure

  Book 3

  By Matthew James

  PROLOGUE I

  Ancient History

  “Kneel before your new king!” he yelled, sending another volley of crimson lightning bolts into the city. He had one mission and one mission alone: Destroy An’tala and everyone who called it home. Then, he would turn on the rest of the world.

  Nannot went by many names. He called himself The End, and to those he created…he was called Master. But he was also called son and brother, neither of which he accepted any longer. His family had been dead to him since the day they betrayed him.

  I was also called husband once, but they put an end to that too.

  She was truly a beauty but was ridiculed and rejected by those of the Order of An’tala, the counsel that helped govern the kingdom. They, along with the king, forbade their relationship, calling it a disgrace, he a priest—a protector—and she a commoner. They were ordered to be separated and never see each other again, lest he taint his royal bloodline. It was commanded with the penalty of her death. Nannot would truly suffer in the end. But he would see her again. He would see to it, even if it meant flattening his homeland and stamping out every life within it, including his so-called family.

  “Come to me!” he shouted, calling to the seas, beckoning them to rise. They immediately listened, following their controller’s orders, lifting like a silky sheet being tossed in the air.

  He watched as the forty-foot wave crashed into the island kingdom’s northern shore, obliterating a boathouse and whatever homes were lining the beach. It continued forward at a blistering pace, sweeping away countless numbers of the city’s citizens as well as numerous more buildings. With every fire, the seawater extinguished, his lightning would set one anew.

  The hurricane force winds swirled around him, billowing his black cloak, making him look like Death himself. I am Death, he thought grinning ear-to-ear. Tree after tree fell, crashing down onto the roofs of homes and stables, no doubt killing the structure’s occupants.

  Fools... You should have fled when you had the chance.

  A stinging sensation filled his head, making him falter his attack on An’tala for just a moment. His eyes ached and his skin itched like it was set alight. A wetness flowed down his cheeks as if he were crying, but he scoffed at the idea, knowing he would never weep for those that fell here.

  He lifted his blackened hand and touched his face as he called for more lightning. He shuddered slightly as his hand came away covered in blood.

  No, he thought, not yet.

  His stolen form was starting to burn up, this being the second sign. His skin darkening to the color of night was step one. It resembled his obsidian-made prison. Soon this body would disintegrate, burning up from the inside out.

  I need to finish this soon.

  He closed his fists and instructed the very earth itself to shake and crack. This was what would decimate the city beyond repair. The caverns underneath the kingdom were weak and easily manipulated. If he could get the faults to break and crumble, so too would the city.

  A flicker of movement caught his attention as three forms appeared at the end of the northern dock. Each one of them raised their hands in defiance. He knew they would attempt to stop him without risking the kingdom. They would try to halt his efforts and not fully engage in an all-out fight.

  “Do not stand in my way traitors!” Nannot shouted, his deep murderous voice booming across the coast like thunder. “You cannot defeat me! The Priests of An’tala are finished!”

  They did what he expected and pushed back, dampening some of his storm’s effects. The shaking beneath the earth also subsided, reducing the city’s chances of falling. Nannot instantly felt the strain causing him to grit his teeth and shove back.

  From fifty feet in the air, Nannot watched as the priests’ feet slid across the drenched wood of the pier. But then they stopped and increased their assault on him. Even he knew three against one was a lost cause.

  It wasn’t the same power as his, though. Nannot used an outward attack, expanding its energy to a wide range of objectives. The very air, ground, and seas were his weapons. Ev
en the flames themselves if the situation called for it would listen, but not now. He specialized in the elements, but the others, they used the same tactics as their king.

  They are strong, Nannot thought thinking three moves ahead, but that also makes them predictable.

  He watched as they themselves lifted in the air, surrounding him. They then stretched out their hands and began to chant.

  This was the predictable part of their tactic. They would have to summon more power from within by calling to it. It gave Nannot adequate time to prepare his final assault on An’tala.

  “You know not what you fight for,” he said, speaking to the priests. “You fight for just reasons, but you know not what drives your king. He is motivated by greed and power. He is using you to—”

  The first wave of energy hit, cutting off his warning.

  Fine, he thought, centering his mind on the tons of bedrock beneath them, you won’t hear me out. Then I’ll just do what I came here to do.

  He allowed the three to blast him with their electric green energy, but what they didn’t know is that Nannot was going to use that power against them. He was collecting it, to be used again. It was another lesson he had learned, planning to use it at this very moment. The world around them was energy. It’s what powered them all. All you had to do was know how to harness it.

  Predictable…

  He could have just as easily thrown off their aim with a quick burst of wind, or even a lightning bolt, but he needed them to get in close and use their abilities.

  As the trio poured on the strength, Nannot absorbed most of it and willed it to transfer to the part of him that directed the seabed. He felt the very Earth cry in protest, like a bone breaking from the pressure applied. Then, it split again, opening the damaged fault beneath the city. The breakage started at the coast and quickly flowed deeper and deeper into the kingdom.

  There… It is done.

  Content with fulfilling his part of the mission, Nannot let down his guard and was instantly incinerated. The human he’d taken the night before instantly turned to dust, the ash falling harmlessly to the lowering sea level.

  * * *

  “It is done,” Nannot’s consciousness thought, relaying the message to his master, the orchestrator of this plan. Together they would exile the people of An’tala and spread their advanced bloodlines throughout every major culture around the world. They’d teach the savage inhabitants their ways, training those they deemed worthy in the forbidden dark arts. Then once the master was ready, he would rise.

  “Good,” the master replied. “Today is the day our influence will live on forever. Just remember, though you are imprisoned here, you are not doomed forever. Use your time here wisely and build your strength. Be patient. I foresee a chosen vessel coming in the ages ahead of us. You and I will live on until then, waiting for the right opportunity. You within the necropolis and I within the Citadel.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Nannot thought. “I am honored that you would select me as your sword against the world.”

  The master’s voice echoed a raspy laugh. “Do not think of it as a weapon against the enemy. Think of it as the beginning of the end. It is truly a day to celebrate. A day that we will remember as our independence.”

  “Yes, my lord. I will remember.”

  And so Nannot, the bane of An’tala, waited. As the millennia passed he would gain strength, feeding on the hate and malice of humanity. He smiled inwardly, inside his fiery tomb. The world had gone mad, fighting each other over the pettiest of things. Land… Earthly minerals… Beliefs... These were but a few of the roots of hate. But like all roots, they grew into something more. If they were honed for good, they could be just as mighty. But these particular roots would grow into centuries of violence and bloodlust.

  Once it was time, he and his master would rise and call upon those who that lasted as long as they. Nannot also hoped that she would survive too and stand by his side once again. Coaxoch was not only a queen to their followers, but she was Nannot’s everything and mother to their real children. It was another secret he had kept from Thoth and the others.

  They would be king and queen of the new world and their master would be—is—their god. Together the three of them would conquer and then destroy anyone who got in their way. Their enemies would either be enslaved, or tormented and killed. Nannot would see the strongest turned into his minions of evil—his Nightmares. He already had a small army of them hidden in the necropolis. He would summon them to protect his prison when the time was right.

  But first, he would slumber. He would plan. He would lie in wait and be patient. He would mentally train and refine his abilities, using them on the world above, causing it a satisfying grief. Tornadoes would churn across the land, tsunamis would decimate the coasts, and fires burn out of control. The Earth would tremble.

  He would also…dream of her…

  Nannot smiled. He wasn’t truly imprisoned.

  He was, in essence, free…

  He was free to exact his revenge on the realm above—a reality in which he didn’t technically exist in at the moment.

  Not yet.

  The master had seen to this when his physical body was destroyed and his soul frozen in time. They would use Thoth’s forgiving heart against him. Nannot would wait until the chosen one came and released him.

  He smiled inwardly.

  Soon… He laughed, shaking the cavern around him. Very soon.

  PROLOGUE II

  Present Day

  The Boyd Residence

  Fairfax, Virginia

  “No! Please, God, no!”

  “Hank!” a voice shouts. “Wake up, Hank. It’s only a dream.”

  Gun to my father’s temple.

  A scarred psychopath coolly mocking me.

  Kane, Brooks, and myself all pointing our own guns towards the killer.

  Damn you, Brooks… Traitor.

  “No, please don’t…”

  Dad is dragged out of his office, gun jammed into his back.

  “Please, don’t…”

  “Hank, wake up!” The voice is pleading, borderline crying for me to do so. But I can’t. I have to save my father.

  I step out of my own body and put myself inbetween Frost and my dad. I will the bullet to hit me first, but it doesn’t. It just passes right through me and quickly enters and exits him.

  A familiar scream erupts from behind my immaterial form as I turn and watch as my other self lunges for my father, picking him up off the steps of our basement office.

  “Hank?” Dad asks as his eyes fade.

  “Dad!” I scream awake, sweating and crying, blubbering like a child. Two strong arms quickly embrace me and hold tight.

  “I tried,” I say, wide-eyed, staring at the wall. “I tried to save him again.”

  A gentle hand turns my head and I see Nicole’s face slide in front of my vacant stare. Through salt-filled eyes, I focus on her natural beauty and calm a bit. She has that effect on me. She is truly my rock.

  “Hank…”

  I then notice that hers are also streaming with tears. My hand goes to them and I wipe the liquid away. Delicately, I pull her in close, kissing her full, electrifying lips. My pulse instantly slows, returning to a less chaotic rate.

  It’s another effect she has on me.

  “I know,” I say, responding to her unsaid declaration. “I know… He’s gone and I can’t change anything.”

  My hand runs down her face and ends up on her shoulder, just barely missing her healing bullet wound. It’s almost completely mended now, having the stitches removed earlier in the week. I reflexively squeeze, affirming my appreciation of her being here.

  “I’m worried about you,” she says, either not feeling my hand or uncaring that it’s there. Like I said before, she’s strong.

  Nicole’s been worried since the day of the funeral, fearing a large-scale nervous breakdown. I was already having panic attacks after what happened in Algeria, but now with the brutal slaying
of my father in D.C., I’m having full-blown night terrors too.

  “We need time away from work,” Nicole softly says. “You need to rest and try to pull yourself together.”

  If it was anyone else telling me to “pull myself together,” it would have ended badly for them. It’s not exactly a topic I like to openly speak of—my sanity, I mean. I know what Nicole means, though. She is correctly implying that I need to stitch myself back together before I go completely mental.

  “I can’t,” I say, getting out of bed. I routinely have to get up and towel off the sweat. In some cases, I just jump in the shower and rinse off. In even better cases, Nicole joins me. “We’re too busy. We need to finalize the location of Babel and—”

  “I already booked us a week in South Beach.”

  “What?” I ask, shocked she’d do that.

  “Just us—a real vacation,” she quickly adds, trying to deflate my anxiety of leaving our work behind. “It’d be our first one together.”

  I’m about to refuse, but see the bags under her eyes. Nicole needs this as much as she thinks I do. Maybe I do…

  “Fine,” I say, giving in to her wisdom, “but only if I get to pick out your swimwear.”

  “Or lack thereof knowing you,” she says, smiling.

  “Come on,” I say, holding out my hand.

  “What?” she asks.

  I tilt my head towards the bathroom. “Shower time.”

  She laughs, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “What is it you always say about bathing together?”

  I smile wide, cheering up a little. “Conserve water, shower with a friend.”