I nodded, threading my fingers through his. I sincerely hoped he was right.
Deep down, I knew that he wasn’t.
It was a beautiful day in Rome. The sun was shining, filling everything it touched with light and joy. The sky was a cloudless blue, brilliant and perfect. Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom and it darkened my mood. I wasn’t sure what to expect at Via Appia Antica because I had never been there, so when we pulled up, I climbed off the bus feeling a little nervous. It was unnecessary. The place was beautiful and I understood its tourist appeal even though it didn’t seem like much. It was green and lush with trees and plants of different shapes and sizes. There was a long road that ran through it and people of every age were running, walking or cycling along the path. Others were picnicking on blankets and soaking up the sun’s rays.
“Feeling better?” Sam asked, his hand rubbing my back.
“Yeah.”
We all gathered around while Mrs. Britt outlined the activities that were available. A group would be formed for those who wanted to walk and explore, stopping at the shops that lined the street. Another group would be formed for those that wanted to cycle along the path and explore.
The cycling group would be led by Ms. Merriweather.
How would we manage to get away from the group to ‘get lost’ with her leading us? She seemed to have an eagle eye trained on me at all times. But we had to try because this was our only shot at getting the scroll into the catacombs.
Luckily, the cycling group was larger than the walkers. Being on a bicycle allowed us to cover more ground and see more of the attractions, so most wanted to do that. Ms. Merriweather led us to the rental place and we were all given a bike and a map, highlighting the main attractions and best eateries along the road. It also boasted a lot of history and trivia. I noted where the catacombs of San Sebastiano where located, then shoved the map into my bag. I didn’t need information about anywhere else.
We started the tour in the center of the group, then gradually fell back until we were the last three, trailing behind. It was good that Ms. Merriweather headed south because we could travel that way with the class and then “accidentally” separate later.
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach and I ignored the fine shaking of my hands as the time drew closer for us to go off on our own. What if she saw us? What if she kept us from doing what we needed to do?
Turns out, separating from the group wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. Small groups of students began going to the attractions that they wanted to see most. We fell in with a bigger group that was heading toward where we wanted to go. They all passed where we stopped, probably because it didn’t look like much.
The small two-story church told of its age. It was made of stone with three great arches and large columns at the front. The church had a pitched roof and windows along the second story. There were tourists here, of course. Inside was a marble slab with the impression of Christ’s feet. It was said to be the original with a copy housed somewhere else in Rome. Most people were studying the marble, so it was easy to find the staircase that led down into the catacombs without much notice.
The Catacombs of San Sebastiano is one of the smallest cemeteries, so it wasn’t preserved very well. The stairway that led down was dark and murky. The stairs were covered in dust and dirt and very steep.
Sam went first and I was next with Cole bringing up the rear. We each had a flashlight, but none of us turned them on because while it was pretty dark, we could still see due to what lighting there was. At the bottom of the staircase was a restored crypt. It was the crypt of San Sebastiano that held a table altar. On top of the altar sat a bust of Saint Sebastiano. Underneath were platforms which were the tombs. I shivered, knowing that people were buried there. It seemed like such a desolate, creepy place for such revered men to be buried. The platforms were covered in paintings; some were faded because of their age.
Tourists were down here as well. Everyone was hushed out of respect or maybe fear. We stood amongst the people, pretending to study the paintings. Most people did not linger down here long and soon Sam was tugging me across the crypt and pointing down a narrow hall. I nodded and the three of us began walking. We were alone here, probably because the crypt had been creepy, but this narrow, dark stone hall was downright scary. As soon as we rounded the bend, all three of us clicked on our lights. The walls were dark stone, and when I say stone, it isn’t the pretty kind that people put in their kitchens and bathrooms. It’s little more than rock. Black rock that appeared to have been chipped away with old-style tools to make room for the burial places. The walls were jagged and uneven, dusty and dark. The place smelled musty and old… A scent I was beginning to associate with death.
“This place is scary,” I whispered.
Sam stopped walking and turned. I ran right into his chest. Cole bumped into me from behind.
“You can go back. I can do this.”
I shook my head and he sighed, and the three of us started walking again. Paintings and drawings lined the walls here too. They were of crosses and men dressed in robes. There were a few that I thought might be of God and Jesus. Wine and fish, angels and men also made up many of the drawings. The next corner we rounded brought Sam to a halt. Built into the stone walls were arches with ledges. Upon these ledges rested corpses dressed in dirty brown robes with hoods. One of them clasped a giant silver cross in his hands.
“Wow,” Sam said, hushed.
“I hope those aren’t real mummies,” Cole murmured.
“I really don’t think they are props.” I said, goose bumps racing along my arms.
“Where are we supposed to leave the scroll?” Cole asked.
I looked up to shine my light around, looking for a sign. The rays of my flashlight fell upon another drawing. This one wasn’t as faded as the others and I was drawn to it. I stepped away from Cole to study it.
It was of a dagger with gems on the handle. The dagger had great white wings that jutted from behind and it was surrounded by yellow, representing a bright shining light. Beside the image was another of a man lying on the ground with another dagger sticking out of his chest. The man’s eyes were yellow as well as his mouth and ears. His face was full of pain and I imagined his screams.
“Stop,” Sam said, gently turning me from the sight. “Come away.”
I allowed him to lead me away and I tried to banish the sight from my thoughts. It didn’t matter though because my mind would hold onto the picture and it would haunt me forever.