by Alan Baxter
‘It’s a bit far fetched, really,’ Katherine replied, though her voice did betray a level of uncertainty. ‘I mean, think of the logistics, hundreds of years ago.’
‘I know, I know,’ Thomas said, emphatic, ‘but forget the how for now and just imagine what an event like that would be like. I would love to have been one of the no doubt numerous flies on the walls during one of those days.’ He breathed deeply of the evening air.
‘It would certainly have been a remarkable event to witness.’
They entered the dining tent, among the first to do so. Automatically they went to the corner table that they had shared with Pedro and Father Paleros before. A gentle stream of workers was beginning to file in as they sat down, the day’s tasks drawing to a close.
‘I’ll be glad when the dinner gets served,’ Katherine said. ‘I’m starving.’
‘Me too, my dear. I wonder if Pedro will join us though, or if he’ll be working down there all night.’
‘Actually, I’ve noticed that Pedro seems to have a remarkable ability to pace himself. No matter how busy things seem to get, he always finishes his day at the same sort of time. He’ll always take meals here with everyone else. He said that he can often be found late at night in the pyramid or one of the digs, but he always stops to eat with the others, even if he does go back again afterwards.’
‘I imagine that tonight will be the ultimate test of that,’ Thomas replied with a smirk. ‘Do you think he’ll be able to stay away from his newly discovered chamber of wonders?’
Katherine smiled broadly and pointed to the half open tent flap. ‘There’s your answer,’ she said.
Pedro Sanchez nodded to them, smiling as he made his way through the thickening crowd of workers. He sighed expansively as he sat. ‘What a day!’
Thomas laughed. ‘But a good day, no?’
Pedro’s face was lit like a child’s at Christmas. ‘Oh, a very good day. Only my hunger and fatigue stop me from continuing to catalogue our latest find.’
Thomas and Katherine exchanged a knowing look.
‘Good evening.’ Father Paleros stood beside the table, smiling benignly in his well practised manner. ‘May I?’ He indicated the seat beside Katherine.
‘Of course,’ all three said at once.
‘So,’ Paleros said. ‘It seems that even more congratulations are in order, Senor Sanchez. Quite a find today, I hear.’
Pedro nodded, beaming. ‘Yes, indeed. A truly wondrous day.’
As the banging and clattering from the field kitchen adjoined to the tent grew, the four of them sat discussing the chamber. As was their habit they waited while all the workers solemnly queued, tin plates in hand. The wait made Katherine’s stomach grumble loudly, hungry as she was, but she hoped that the general level of noise would mask the voice of her hunger. Soon the queue had dwindled and the voices had quietened as people began to eat. Katherine, Thomas, Pedro and Father Paleros wandered over to the serving women and took their share. As they returned to their table and sat down Katherine said, ‘Well, I’m going to be very sad to leave here just as things are getting more exciting.’
Pedro looked at her, one eyebrow raised. ‘You have to leave?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid so. I have to get to another assignment. However, Thomas will stay and continue to observe here if that’s all right with you, and I should be back again in about three week’s time.’
Pedro shrugged. ‘Well, if that’s the way it must be then that’s the way it must be. Thomas, you are welcome to stay for as long as you like.’
Drake inclined his head in thanks. He looked at Katherine, smiled. Katherine returned his smile, but her face was troubled.
‘Are you all right?’ he whispered.
‘I just feel a little restless for some reason. I don’t know why.’ She wished Peter were with her. She had always scoffed at the way he tried to protect her, but the truth of it was that he did have a remarkable ability to make her feel better. Recent events had made her feel vulnerable. At least she had Thomas with her. He made her feel a lot safer when he was around. Yet still she was restless, nervous.
In the last late shadows of the day Carlos Villalopez crouched among large, heavy leaves. His aches and pains were forgotten now from the exhilaration of arriving at his destination and the chemical enhancement flooding through his veins. He stared out across the site, lost for a moment in wonder. There were covered digs and tents all over the large open area that had been cleared and an enormous stepped pyramid dominated one end of the site. He’d had no idea it was going to be this big, even after he had seen the road leading to it. Everybody seemed to be heading towards a large tent at the end of this particular edge of the site, up near the corner of the pyramid. He could hear sounds of cutlery and tin dishes drifting through the still, humid evening air. So, they eat now. A good time to arrive.
He silently made his way through the brush, following the edge of the site as it was marked by the numerous tents. He headed away from the pyramid, making his way around to the end of the site opposite the magnificent edifice, in order to see the area from a different angle. Which one of these tents does that bastard priest live in? He quietly snuck past tents that housed composting toilets and basic showers, then he saw it. A large tent, almost as big as the dining tent where everybody seemed to be at the moment, but this one was different. It had a large cross suspended above the doorway. Is this your church, bastard?
He slipped in through the loose tent flaps, into the gloomy interior. By the light of a few candles, he could make out rows of seating, an altar at the far end. But the place was deserted. He walked the length of the chapel tent, scanning around. When he reached the altar he stopped, looking at it for a moment in hatred. Hatred for what it stood for. Hatred for Paleros. He spun on his heel and strode from the chapel tent, melting into the trees behind the showers as if he had never been there at all. Time enough. He would have to find out which was the priest’s home tent, not this chapel. He wanted privacy and quiet while he made that bastard suffer.
As he picked his way around the perimeter of the site he watched the comings and goings of the few people not in the dining tent. It appeared that, other than the dining tent, everything along that side of the site was quarters for the people here. The priest, assuming that he did not live in his church, must live in one of them. Carlos crouched in a spot that afforded him a view from the corner of the site and waited.
A small, young man, colourful poncho about his shoulders, wandered past, not more then fifteen feet from where Carlos hid. Carlos hissed quietly, like a snake. The man stopped, cocking his head to one side, Did I hear that? Carlos hissed again, a little more obviously this time. The man looked around, almost right at him, but Carlos knew he was too well hidden. Come on, where’s your curiosity?
The man took a step toward Carlos, trying to peer into the gathering gloom of the evening. Especially among the trees, dark, inky pools of nothingness.
Come on, just a pace or two more.
As he thought it the man stepped forward again, staring right past Carlos into the depths of the trees. Lightning fast, Carlos stood up from concealment and grabbed the man, one hand clamped firmly over his mouth, the other wrapped around his chest, and dragged him back into the trees.
Carlos dumped the kicking, struggling man on his back, his hand still grasping his jaw like a vice. The man’s eyes were wild, terrified, as he stared into Carlos’ manic face. ‘Be still,’ Carlos said. ‘Be still and be silent and you’ll be all right.’ The man nodded frantically. ‘Promise you won’t make a sound?’ The man nodded again. Slowly Carlos released the pressure on the man’s face. ‘Quietly now, what’s your name,’ he whispered.
‘Eduardo,’ the young man replied, trembling.
Carlos smiled, evil and menacing. ‘Well, Eduardo,’ he said quietly, ‘you’re going to help me out a little.’ The young man nodded, his eyes locked in fear to Carlos’ own. ‘Do you know the priest that works here?’ Eduardo nodded again. Ca
rlos smiled. ‘What’s his name?’
‘Father Paleros,’ Eduardo replied in a shaky voice.
Carlos leaned his head back, a long sigh escaping his throat like fetid air escaping crypts. ‘Ahhh, so close now. So tell me, Eduardo. Which is Paleros’ tent?’
Eduardo pointed a trembling finger at the hut that marked the corner of the site. ‘That one there. Not a tent, but that’s where he lives I’m sure. At least, when first I arrived, just a few days ago, that is where he was staying. That hut there, on his own.’
Carlos raised a finger to his lips. ‘You are babbling, Eduardo. Be still.’ Eduardo nodded, his lips pressed together.
Carlos looked across to the hut that the young man had indicated. That was a good spot, right on the corner. He could get access to that hut quite easily, with very little risk of alerting anyone else in the area. All he needed to do was wait until the holy bastard retired for the night and his opportunity would be ripe.
He looked down at Eduardo’s young face, still a mask of fear. ‘You have been very helpful,’ he whispered, almost too quietly to be heard. He slipped one hand around behind Eduardo’s head, resting the back of the young man’s head on his forearm, his hand closing once more over Eduardo’s mouth. Eduardo’s eyes widened further still, panic beginning to rise up in him once more. Carlos leaned his face close to Eduardo’s ear, his breath hissing, hot and foul. ‘I love the innocence of the young,’ he purred. Eduardo began a muffled scream, his legs kicking, but the sound and the activity were stopped dead as Carlos whipped his arm back, gripping the young man’s chin. A sickening succession of popping bones and Eduardo collapsed limp into the leaf litter.
In the dining tent there rose a high, ululating shriek above the general noise of the gathered diners. As a stunned hush settled over the whole group, heads turning to see what the fuss was about, the old village elder stood up, pointing one shaking hand towards Katherine. ‘It begins,’ he said in a heavy, dark voice. ‘You should have left, but now it is too late!’
Sanchez stood and spoke angrily in Spanish. The old man sneered and stalked from the tent.
TIME IS RUNNING VERY SHORT, ISIAH.
I know. But it’s no use killing him on the journey there is it!
As darkness began to gather among the trees Samuel and Isiah sat for another rest. It was irritating Isiah how often they had to stop, but he knew that Samuel was completely unprepared for this. And he knew that Samuel had to be strong when they arrived or he may not be able to fulfil his task. Besides, this time at least Isiah had a small plan for their rest stop. While Samuel rested, he could still be busy.
Samuel sat with his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands. ‘I’m beginning to get pissed off with all this,’ he said. Isiah ignored him. ‘I mean,’ Samuel went on, ‘it’s getting really fucking dark, really fucking quick. How are we gonna find our way in the pitch black.’
‘How many times do I have to tell you, Samuel. Trust me.’
Samuel barked a short laugh. ‘Yeah, right.’
Isiah took a deep breath. ‘While you rest I’m going to go and have a scout about.’
‘You’re leaving me here?’ Samuel said, his voice a little high. ‘What if some peekaboos come by, or whatever those vicious bastard pigs were called?’
Isiah laughed despite himself. ‘Don’t worry, Samuel, you’ll be all right. Besides, I’m not exactly going anywhere. Just part of me is.’
Samuel shook his head. ‘Shit, man, whatever. You confuse the hell out of me.’
‘I know. Okay, now pay attention, because this is the plan from now on. I’m going to disappear, relatively speaking, for a little while. When I get back we’re going to get moving again. We’re not going to rest any more. I’m guessing there’s about another hour or so to the site, I’ll confirm that in a second. We’re going straight there and you’re going straight in for the skull. Do you have any idea where the skull is?’
‘Yeah, it’s in a big fucking pyramid. In a chamber down some stairs.’
‘So when we get there, you head straight for the pyramid. I’m also guessing that old Lucifer is right on our tails now. He almost certainly won’t try to intercept us here though. I think he’ll wait until we get to the site and try to take you there. So I’ll hold him off and you leg it for the skull, all right?’
Samuel nodded. ‘Yeah, Okay. You’d better be able to hold him off for long enough, man. Especially after all this.’
Isiah smiled. ‘Now shut up and sit still; I have to concentrate.’
He gathered himself, closed his eyes. Slowly his eyes opened again, but they seemed glassy, distant. Samuel looked at him in the darkness. ‘Isiah?’ He waved his hand in front of Isiah’s staring eyes, but got no response at all. He sighed deeply, shaking his head. ‘Fucking freak. The things he does!’
Isiah looked down at Samuel from his perch high up in the trees above. The roosting Blue Cotinga that had unwittingly let Isiah’s consciousness into itself still slept peacefully, unaware of the presence of this powerful man. Isiah stretched his wings and took off, flying up above the canopy of the jungle. It was considerably lighter up here, the light of the day lingering, unaffected by the shadows of the forest below. The Cotinga’s eyes were not particularly suited to the gloom, but Isiah could cater for that. He flew swiftly in the direction they were headed, seeking out the site. He could see that they were very close to some extremely swampy land, the jungle lost into mangroves and mosquito infested marshes. It wasn’t long before he saw the large clearing in the jungle, the magnificent pyramid standing proudly at one end, everything else in its shadow. So this is where we have been led.
He flew to the pyramid, landed on its heights. He mentally scanned the area, looking for the subjects of his quest. He had images in his mind of Katherine Bailey’s and Carlos Villalopez’ conscious patterns, kindly supplied by the Balance. He quickly found Villalopez, lurking in the brush a few metres from the south edge of the site. He was rushing, his mind a turmoil of hatred and anticipation. Isiah quickly withdrew his thoughts, disgusted at Villalopez’ mind. So, he had to get Samuel to approach the site from that angle to encounter Villalopez before anything else. He quickly scanned the rest of the site, searching for Katherine Bailey. He found her in the large tent right at the foot of the pyramid, among the majority of the people here. They were all eating and talking, but Katherine seemed considerably concerned. Perhaps she was more in tune with the energies of the universe than she realised.
Isiah’s train of thought was rudely derailed as a massive presence of rage suddenly began to build nearby. Fuck, here he comes. Leaving the poor Cotinga to its confused, unexplained relocation, Isiah snapped his consciousness back to his body. That was too close.
Samuel looked up as Isiah took a deep breath, his statue-like body becoming animated again.
ISIAH, YOU WILL BE TOO LATE IF YOU DO NOT MOVE SWIFTLY.
Isiah ignored the Balance. ‘Come on,’ he said to Samuel, his voice serious. ‘We don’t have a moment to lose.’
Katherine sat shaken by the old man’s outburst, watching as Father Paleros left the dining tent. He had said he would go to have a quiet word with the village elder, perhaps convince him that nothing was wrong.
‘I do apologise,’ Pedro Sanchez said. ‘I really have no idea what’s got into that man.’
Katherine shook her head. ‘It’s okay, really. He’s not as mad as he seems, you know.’
Sanchez raised an eyebrow. ‘What do you mean?’
Katherine was exasperated. ‘Jesus, I wish I knew! Can’t you guys feel it?’ She looked from Sanchez to Thomas Drake and back again. They both shook their heads. ‘Something is definitely not right around here,’ Katherine went on. ‘It’s not just that old man scaring me all the time, either. Something really bad is coming and I don’t even know why I’m so sure of that, let alone what it actually might be. Shit, I’m not making any sense, am I?’
Pedro smiled. ‘Yes, you are. I’ve been among these people a lot and your
current state is not so unlike theirs sometimes. I never dismiss these intuitions. But what do you suggest we do about it?’
Katherine shrugged, slumping in her seat. ‘I have absolutely no idea.’
Carlos was used to waiting. Like a cat watching a mouse hole, he could remain motionless but alert for hours at a time, waiting. Experience had long since taught him that one of the most valuable assets in a trade like his was patience. If he went blundering in, guns blazing, shouting for Paleros, he would probably get him. He would probably get a lot of incidental kills as well, but that was not the way to do it. He could just as easily catch a bullet from a gung ho worker that might manage to sneak up on him in the melee. Paleros would have to sleep some time tonight. He could wait.
The night was beginning to settle over him in its entirety, its familiar comfort wrapping him up in dark arms. A figure in a flowing robe emerged from the busy dining tent. Could it be? Carlos quickly whipped out the night glasses that Marco had so kindly lent him, sighted up to the man. Yes! Paleros, you bastard, it is you.
He watched as Paleros caught up with an old man that had emerged a while earlier. The old man was leaning against a post, smoking a pipe. Carlos had the disturbing sensation for a moment that the old man was staring right at him. He looked away as Paleros approached him. Carlos watched them having a conversation, quiet at first though becoming more agitated. After a moment, with a placating gesture, Father Paleros turned and headed back into the dining tent. The old man looked back again, surely staring straight into Carlos’ glasses. Carlos jumped as the old man subtly lifted his pipe, almost as if in greeting.
Carlos chuckled, shaking his head, as he put the glasses away, amused by the thought that the old man could see him. More importantly he had seen that bastard priest and knew that his efforts had been worth while. Just wait a while longer until Paleros felt ready for bed, then the fun would begin.
Isiah and Samuel ploughed their way through the thick underbrush, Samuel tripping and stumbling in the dark, Isiah like a ghost.
‘How do you do that?’ Samuel asked breathlessly.
