He knew she was headed to the pile of rocks; it was her only choice. It wasn't really a pile so much as a fallen ancient wall. He wanted to get there first and angled himself toward it for a run up the side of the gully. He was almost to the top when a sudden sharp pain in his injured knee made him stumble. His feet slid out from under him and he tumbled to the bottom of the gully.
He cursed in English, stood, and took a step. He felt the pain again but limped as quickly as he could to the top.
He reached the southwest corner of the church and stopped. Not a sound, and nothing was moving. She still must be on the other side of the church, he thought. He stepped out to cross in front of the doorway and surprise her at the other corner. He was almost there when the first rock hit him. The pain in his shoulder was instantaneous. The second rock whizzed by his head and ricocheted off the wall, striking him on his back. The third rock struck him in the chest, possibly breaking a rib. He groaned and stumbled back toward the south wall for cover, shielding his head from the hailstorm of rocks.
'Take that, you miserable bastard!' she screamed.
The rocks kept coming even after he'd found cover. She was dangerous, this one.
Each rock had to weigh at least five pounds. Any one of them could have killed him.
He waited a few minutes, then carefully peered around the corner. He saw no movement at the pile. Perhaps she'd run away. He waited a few more minutes. Not a sound. Quickly he jumped out from behind the wall. A rock sailed by him, and he jumped back to cover. Again, more rocks flying.
'Come on, you cowardly, motherfucking bastard! Come on out so I can kill you.'
He knew she would too. He'd have to come up with a different plan — or let her be. Annika was breathing so quickly she thought she'd hyper-ventilate. An eight-pounder was in her hands above her head — as if ready to throw in at a soccer match. No longer feeling the pain in her wrist, she was waiting for him to come out again so she could kill him. She knew she'd hurt him. She wanted to hurt him. She wanted to kill him. If she'd taken more care with her aim the second time, instead of just grabbing and throwing everything she touched, maybe she'd have hit him in the head and knocked him out. She'd take better aim this time. Then, when he was down, she'd beat him to death. Her face twisted with rage.
Not a sound from behind the wall. Maybe he was playing her game: staying quiet and waiting for the quarry to move. She kept her focus on both corners of the church, just in case he sneaked around to the northwest side. That corner was less than twenty feet away from her. If he came at her from there, she'd have no time to grab a rock and aim. She had to be ready with a rock in her hands, but her arms were aching from the weight. Her adrenaline rush was over. She lowered the rock to her chest. She was feeling weak.
She glanced quickly to her right and left. Ten yards behind her was a stone wall. It was about ten feet high and ran for only twenty feet or so to her left before ending at the top of some rough stone steps starting somewhere between her and the end of the wall. To her right, the wall seemed to run on forever. She glanced at it again. It wasn't like the walls she was used to seeing on Mykonos. These rocks were flat and layered on their sides in staggered piles, like books. This was more like a wall from Delos.
She looked again at the walls and back at the church. For the first time she noticed little stars looming in the distance behind the church, but they weren't stars and they weren't in the sky. They were lights on a hillside across the water — on Mykonos! Suddenly, it all made sense.
There were no people here, and there wouldn't be any until sunrise. She had no idea what a church was doing here, but she was certain this was Delos — its most deserted part, at the very northeastern edge of the ancient stadium. There was no place to hide here, and if he reached the footpath that ran along the top of the wall behind her, she was as good as dead. She was by the top, northeast edge of this cigar-shaped island and had to move south, toward its broader center and the heart of the ancient city's ruins. There she could find a place to hide until dawn — when people would come and she'd be safe.
Slowly, she edged out from behind the pile and along the wall to her right. The rock was back above her head, her muscles twitching from the weight. Carefully she moved, wondering when the charge would come. She'd have to make sure the rock struck his head. She stepped again, her heart pounding but her breathing steady. She almost was at an angle to see along that southern wall. Just another step…
He was gone! No one was there. She panicked. Where was he? Had he gone into the gully to the south or swung around to the north up the hillside? Either way he could get — or already was — above her. She couldn't stay here. She lowered the rock to her waist and staggered south along the wall toward the main ruins. They were at least a half-mile away — over mostly open ground — but it was her only chance. After a few yards she dropped the rock. It was too heavy, and besides, if he was waiting to ambush her up ahead, it wasn't likely to help, only slow her down. All she could do was pray to find a place to hide before he found her. She knew for sure that the next time they met one of them would die. Andreas saw the Zodiac before he noticed the church. 'Over there!' he shouted. 'In that cove.' The lieutenant sped up and threw on his searchlights. They lit up everything in their path, but there was nothing in the water and nothing to see beyond the Zodiac except barren land and the church. The lieutenant brought his boat as close as he could to shore. Andreas and the others jumped into the water and waded the few yards to dry land. The lieutenant kept the boat at idle, and the light beamed on the men racing up toward the church.
The church blocked the light from reaching its front side, and by the time Andreas got there, glare had wiped out his night vision. He was the first to reach the front door and the first to trip over rocks scattered everywhere. He fumbled for a flashlight. The door was locked. No sign of anyone. He knocked, not expecting an answer. He yelled, 'Police, open up!' Still no answer. He tried to force open the door. It was built to resist those with bad intentions and all the time in the world to break in to an isolated church on a deserted island.
He gestured for the others to step back, pulled out his gun, and put two rounds into the lock. Then he kicked in the door. He saw nothing inside but the expected.
Tassos' light flooded across the foot-square marble floor tiles. 'No burial crypt in the floor, but wouldn't expect one in a new church.' He lifted his fist to knock on a wall. 'Bones go inside the walls in most of the new ones,' he said, and pounded twice. Two dull, solid thuds. He knocked again at another place. Same result.
Andreas knocked on the opposite side wall. 'They're solid. There's no place to bury anything in here,' he said, sounding confused.
Tassos looked around, then smacked his forehead with his hand. 'Of course, there's no place to bury anyone in this church — we're on Delos!'
Andreas gave him a blank stare.
Tassos sounded frustrated. 'Since, like the fifth century BC there haven't been bones buried on Delos and no one's been allowed to give birth or die here. All the bones are buried over there.' He was pointing west. 'On the neighboring island of Rhenia, the one the locals call Big Delos.'
'Do you think he's taken her there?' Andreas asked, alarmed.
Tassos spoke with a simmering rage. 'I don't know. My gut says no — and there's that boat behind the church — but he knows there's no place to bury her in this church. I'm sure of that.'