The Milestone Protocol Ernest Dempsey (best short novels of all time .txt) 📖

lines and edges of the chapel were easy to distinguish against the curved, sloping eaves and arches of the Cathedral of the Savior. The walls of the chapel were also whiter, more the color of alabaster.

“The museum is housed in the chapel,” Tommy said. Foggy breath accompanied his words and disappeared into the air, mingling with the falling snow. “The blockier building,” he added, pointing at the white building ahead and slightly behind the cathedral.

They looped around the older structure, admiring it while also cautiously surveying the property around them. Scant few people bothered visiting the monastery, probably due to the cold, but also because of the day of the week. Sean guessed it was a slow day, though he imagined the cathedral boasted a number of parishioners who frequented the sanctuary on Sundays.

During the outbreak of the virus, people had been told not to go to church and other large gatherings, but as the impact of the pandemic waned, restrictions had been loosened. Those who pined for the fellowship and spiritual nourishment religion offered hurried back to the warm embrace of the church.

The group passed the cathedral and continued around it on the right, then straight ahead until they arrived at the entrance to the chapel. The path spilled into a cobbled courtyard with a short stone wall wrapping around a monument on the far side. A pink building stood behind the marker, perhaps another of the monastery’s dormitories or an administrative building. The monument featured a tarnished metal plaque in the center and an object on the top that looked like a spinning top, similar to a dreidel.

“I guess that’s it,” Tabitha said, indicating the headstone with an outstretched finger. “Unless there’s a cemetery around here I haven’t seen.”

Sean didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he strode over to the monument. In seconds, he knew they had found what they were looking for.

“This is it,” he said, turning to the others. “The grave of Andrei Rublev.”

The four huddled around the grave and gazed at the image on the stone. The faded and weathered dark green of the metal featured a forlorn angel gazing down to the left, as if longing for the departed to rise again. Thick white marble framed the plaque and displayed a short engraved collection of details on either side of the angelic image about Andrei Rublev’s life.

“What does it say?” Tabitha asked, her teeth chattering against the cold.

“Just the usual stuff that tombstones feature. No clues there. Name. Years of birth and death.”

“But if there’s no clue inscribed on the monument, how are we supposed to know where to find this gem?”

Adriana, Sean, and Tommy all looked over at her with reproach in their eyes.

Tommy shook his head and stepped toward the monument. He stopped an inch short of its base and placed his hands on the metal object set into the top. He pushed and pulled, trying to pry the ornament from the marble, but it wouldn’t budge.

After almost two minutes of grueling effort, Tommy took a step back and panted for breath.

“You done?” Sean asked.

Tommy fired a scathing glance at his friend for the snide comment. “You think you can do better?” He motioned to the top. “That thing is stuck, man. We’re going to need to get something to break it off. Like a mallet or a hammer.”

Sean frowned at the assessment, then hopped up onto the snow-dusted wall and wrapped his hands around the cold metal surface of the ornament.

He pulled with all his might, tugging and grunting as his muscles strained. After minutes of struggle, he too threw in the towel.

“You done?” Tommy asked, returning the barb from before.

“My apologies, Shultzie. You’re right. I think we’re going to need something to knock it off. Maybe even a sledgehammer.”

“Where are we going to get something like that in a place like this?” Tabitha wondered. “Are you suggesting we leave and hit up a hardware store?”

Sean looked out from his high perch atop the wall, scanning the layout. “There should be a maintenance shed around here somewhere. Someone works the grounds to keep them looking good, which means there are tools.”

Adriana ignored the conversation and shuffled forward to the base of the monument. She cocked her head to the right and then placed her hands on the ornament where two humps jutted out from opposing sides. Adriana pressed the butt of her hand against the ridge on the right and pulled hard with her fingers on the left.

Tommy laughed. “Good luck, Addy,” he guffawed.

Tabitha stepped forward and climbed onto the wall behind the headstone. “Move your left hand,” she said.

Adriana did as told and waited until Tabitha had her heel pressed against the ridge of the ornament. Then the two women pushed as hard as they could. An audible squeak tore through the silent majesty of the winter’s early afternoon. Sean’s eyes darted around to make sure no one heard it, but he was quickly reminded that the property was mostly empty, at least as far as he could see.

The two women kept pushing until the top turned halfway. Then they repositioned their grips and continued. The ornament turned more easily as it unscrewed from its housing. Finally, Adriana took over the job on her own, spinning the object with relative ease. At the base, a threaded cylinder protruded from the marble headstone. The tube was around three inches wide.

Adriana finished the job, twisting the ornament off the top of the cylinder and setting it to the side.

“Did you boys still want to go find a sledgehammer?” Adriana asked dryly, her right eyebrow cocked high. She took a deep breath and sighed, as if the exertion had been nothing.

Tabitha let out a short laugh.

“Well done,” Tommy lamented after he got the foot out of his mouth. The parts of his face exposed to daylight blushed, though a little case of windburn helped to cover it up.

Sean simply smiled at his wife. “Always gotta one-up me, don’t you?”

She shrugged. “You make it easy sometimes.”

Tabitha