Return to Dark Earth

by Anna Hackett

  Ahead, Nera heard the echo of voices, smelled smoke.

  The tunnel opened up into a giant cavern.

  Holy stars, it was huge. She looked up and saw different levels carved into the rock walls, and what looked like dwellings. There were people everywhere, with the same leather and fur clothes, and tattoos etched on their skin—arms, chests, even their faces. There were men, women and children. Nera tried not to stare. Some of the children had terrible deformities. Large, tumor-like growths on their faces. A few with eyes missing. One child looked at them, and Nera saw what appeared to be a second mouth on her cheek.

  They were led to a stop at the far side of the cavern. On a huge chair carved from a twisted black tree, sat a woman.

  Nera eyed her coolly. The woman wore a short leather skirt, with some sort of fur covering her upper body, and she had leather gauntlets on her arms. Deadly black knives were set into sheaths on the gauntlets. She was also beautiful and completely free of any deformity. Her black hair fell in a rain down her back.

  She stood, her sharp gaze moving from each one of them to the other. Nera didn’t like the look in the woman’s eyes. She watched them like they were possessions, not people. Suddenly she barked out some words at them.

  Avril cleared her throat. “Hello, I’m Dr. Avril Luma-Smythe. I’m the leader of this expedition—”

  Everyone in the room cried out, and mutterings broke out across the cavern. Some people gestured with their hands, others looked like they were praying.

  The leader barked out a word and silence fell. She walked closer to them. Her gaze passed from Avril, lingered on Niklas, then paused on Solomon. Or rather Solomon’s blond hair. Then her gaze came to Nera.

  Yep, I’m a bitch just like you. Nera lifted her chin.

  The woman finally stopped in front of Avril. “You…speak the language…of the ancients.”

  English. The woman could speak English. It was halting and heavily accented, but clear.

  “Yes,” Avril answered. “It’s the business language of the galaxy.”

  “Galaxy?” The woman frowned. “You come…from the stars?”

  “Yes. We are descendants of the people who lived here on Earth but left.” Avril looked around. “Before the fighting that destroyed the planet.”

  Another woman, this one old and wrinkled with a missing eye, moved up behind the leader. Her white hair fell almost to her ankles. She called out in their language. The crowd tittered and gasped.

  “I take it she’s translating for the masses,” Niklas murmured.

  “No one…survived the time of destruction,” the leader said. “Only the Rumin.” She thumped her chest. Others in the cavern mimicked the movement.

  “Rumin,” Niklas said. “That’s not familiar, but I think their language was one that was native to this area.”

  “Some people survived by leaving the planet.” Avril cleared her throat. “You must know there were great cities, and great technology, before the time of destruction.”

  The leader gave a nod. “But that time is passed. Now the Rumin rule.”

  “We mean you no harm. We just wanted to find pieces of history. We were searching for a lost treasure of an ancient culture. The Inca.”

  The old woman crowed something and again the crowd gasped and cried out.

  “Uh, I don’t think that went down so well,” Solomon muttered. One of the guards shoved him.

  “The Inca gold is sacred,” the leader said. “Our ancestors have always protected it from anyone who came to find it. We are the children of Ruminahui. It must never fall into the hands of those who would misuse it.”

  Niklas made a small noise.

  “What?” Nera murmured.

  “I think they are descendants of the Incas. Ruminahui…that’s the name of the Inca general who hid the treasure. I think the Incas had people here to protect the treasure, right from the beginning.”

  Nera raised her brows. “That would explain why anyone who came looking for it never made it out of the mountains.”

  He nodded. “I think maybe a group of them lived up here, in these very caves, and that helped them survive the nuclear devastation.”

  Nera looked around, her gaze falling on a small boy with a hunched back. “If you call this surviving.”

  “You come to take something that is not yours,” the leader said. “It falls to me as Sapa, the leader of the Rumin, to decide your fate.”

  “Not good,” Solomon muttered.

  “We meant no harm or disrespect,” Avril said, keeping her voice smooth and deferential. “If you let us go, we’ll leave now.”

  The Sapa strode back to her chair and sat. She studied them with dark eyes devoid of mercy. “So you can return with more of your…technology? And take with force what is not yours?”

  Not dumb, this leader. Nera tensed, seeing the guards moving.

  “Please, great Sapa.” Solomon stepped forward, a smile on his handsome face. “We mean no harm.”

  Clever man. Nera hid a smile. Solomon had noted the Sapa’s interest in him earlier.

  The leader tilted her head. “Why should I listen to you?”

  “No reason. Just that I tell the truth.”

  The Sapa’s dark gaze wandered over him. “You are blessed by Inti. The woman, too.”

  Nera realized the Sapa was talking about her. She raised a brow.

  “Your hair,” Niklas murmured. “Gold. Like the sun.”

  “You must be a prince of your people,” the Sapa said.

  Solomon stiffened. “I’m not a prince. I’m just a treasure hunter.”

  The Sapa’s face changed. “Someone who takes what is not theirs.”

  “Hang on—”

  The Rumin leader waved a hand. “I am the protector of the treasure. You are all sentenced to capacocha. That is where your fate is decided. Anyone who survives is granted a boon and may leave.”

  Nera tensed further. Which likely meant whatever the hell the capacocha was, they weren’t likely to survive it. She caught Niklas’ gaze and vowed she’d get him out. Or die trying.

  “Any idea what capacocha is?” she asked.

  “I’m not positive…”

  “Niklas, just tell me.”

  “I think it was some kind of sacrifice.”

  Just great. They were herded into another wide tunnel. Torches attached to the walls flickered. They kept moving and soon they heard a familiar groaning and snarling.

  Oh no. Nera forced herself to relax. She needed to be prepared for anything.

  They rounded a corner and the tunnel changed. It was lined by cells carved into the rock walls. Bars made of hardened wood had been built-in, allowing them to see the zombies packed into each cell,

  Claw-tipped hands reached out through the bars, and the zombies’ cries turned frenzied.

  One of their captors thumped his spear against the nearest cage and bit off something in their language.

  The zombie shrank back and quieted a little.

  “I really, really don’t like the look of this,” Niklas said.

  The tunnel opened into another cavern.

  Nera’s stomach clenched.

  This room had tiers built into it, and on each rock ledge people were sitting and others were filing in from other smaller tunnels. People watched, faces alight, and a sense of excitement swept through the cavern. On a raised platform on the far wall, the Sapa had arrived. She lounged on a pile of furs, two people hovering beside her holding platters of food.

  In the center of the room was a sunken pit.

  “A colosseum,” Niklas said.

  A nearby guard snarled and jammed the back of his spear into Niklas’ side. Niklas grunted but Nera was already in motion.

  She kicked the guard in the back, sending him staggering. He spun, and she used her tied hands to capture the end of his spear. She planted a boot in his belly and used the leverage to leap into the air. She wrapped her legs around the man’s neck, and got a quick glimpse of bulging eyes, before she
dropped her weight back. As they fell toward the floor, she used the strength in her thighs to twist, and snap, the guard’s neck.

  They hit the dirt, but Nera was already climbing to her feet. The poison on the spear head had eaten through her bindings and they fell onto the dirt floor. She dusted herself off.

  Other guards surrounded her, spears and knives pointed her way. She sank into a fighting stance. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted Niklas close by, his big body tensed, ready to fight.

  The Sapa called out and reluctantly, the guards lowered their weapons. The Rumin leader shot Nera an inscrutable look. Then she waved her hand to the guards.

  One guard stepped forward and dragged the body of his dead friend away. Another, rather warily, ushered all of them to a small area right above the pit. They were pushed to their knees on the dirt floor.

  Niklas shifted until he was pressed close to Nera. “What do you think is going to happen?”

  “Nothing good.” She eyed the energized crowd. “These people have survived a long time doing things their way. I don’t think they’re interested in what we have to offer, or in letting us go.”

  He nodded, his gaze brooding.

  The Sapa stood and clapped her hands. Nera stared at her. The woman was really beautiful—with a round face, straight nose and deep, dark eyes. The old woman was standing behind her, swaying, an eager light in her eyes. Two men joined the leader, sitting down on nearby piles of furs. They, too, were handsome and well-built with strong jaws and thick, dark hair.

  Niklas was studying them. “I bet that’s how they select their leaders. Those who are the least deformed, the most physically strong and attractive.”

  Nera raised a brow. “How you look has nothing to do with how smart you are, or if you’d make a good leader.”

  “They may not believe that. They obviously see some pretty terrible birth defects. And a lot of their babies must not survive. To see one arrive in perfect condition…it must be special to them.”

  Guards moved out of a neighboring tunnel, dragging a bound man between them. His head was hanging low, and his shoulders sagged.

  In the crowd, a woman stood and cried out. She started yelling. She hugged a small girl with no arms to her ragged skirts.

  The man lifted his head, looked at the woman and child, heartache etched on his face. Then the guard shoved him, and he stumbled over the edge into the sunken pit, sprawling onto his hands and knees in the dirt.

  The woman started wailing and turned her daughter’s face away from the pit, pressing it into her skirts.

  A second later, Nera heard the zombie. Four guards escorted the creature, working hard to keep it contained. They all held long poles, with vine-rope loops attached to the end. Each loop was around the zombie’s neck.

  At the edge of the pit, they slashed the vines confining it away and then pushed it in.

  “Oh, gods,” Avril gasped.

  “This must be how they punish their lawbreakers,” Niklas said.

  The man and zombie looked at each other. The man’s face was covered in fear and resignation. The zombie’s eyes lit with a wild hunger. It shambled forward.

  The man fought. He had no weapon. No hope. But he fought. Nera hoped the little girl in the stands remembered that.

  But soon the zombie slashed into him, blood splattering onto the sand floor. And then the fight was over.

  The zombie crouched over the man’s dead body, biting into his belly and making horrible noises as it feasted.

  “It’s like the gladiatorial combats of very ancient Earth.” Niklas leaned closer, his fingers brushing Nera’s. “There are partial e-records of the Roman Empire. They forced gladiators to fight amongst themselves. The public loved to watch the gory spectacles.”

  And apparently not much had changed over the millennia. At the less-civilized edge of the galaxy, there were pit-fighting worlds where fighters battled against each other to the death. “But they didn’t make them fight monsters.”

  “Not zombies, no, but they did put people in the ring with wild animals.”

  Suddenly, another man strode out of a tunnel. He was tall and muscled, and with no sign of a deformity. He wasn’t quite handsome, but an air of confidence radiated off him. The crowd cheered.

  He looked up at the Sapa and bowed his head.

  Then he leapt over the edge and into the pit.

  Nera leaned forward, watching intently. This was no cowed prisoner. The man had no weapons, but he wore some primitive armor. Scarred leather plates on his arms, legs, chest and abdomen. This was a warrior.

  The zombie lifted its head, its bloodstained face turning to the man. It straightened, obviously sensing fresh prey.

  It attacked so fast it made everyone gasp. Nera wondered if a fresh feed enhanced the zombie’s reflexes.

  It didn’t matter, because the man was ready. He kicked the zombie, making it stumble, and then brought a vicious chop down on its back. It hit the dirt and the man kicked it again. Then he circled the pit, calling to the crowd, pumping a fist into the air.

  The crowd loved it, chanting what Nera guessed was his name.

  She watched the zombie and man fight again. She noted where the man hit. He knew the zombie’s weaknesses. She saw the way the creature’s left arm dangled uselessly, and realized their joints were weak.

  Not long after, the man came at the dazed zombie from behind. He gripped its head, and in a quick move, snapped the creature’s neck.

  The zombie fell in the sand, still twitching.

  From above, a guard dropped one of their large, polished knives down to the warrior. In one smooth move, the man beheaded the zombie, then raised the weapon above his head.

  The crowd roared in delight.

  The man leapt out of the pit and strode up the stands. When he reached the Sapa’s platform, he bent down on one knee in front of her, his head bowed.

  She reached out and touched his head, then gestured him to the furs beside her.

  As the man grinned and waved again at the crowd, he settled in beside the Sapa. Two people hurried over to give him food and drink.

  “Niklas.” Nera leaned in close to him, savoring the warmth and strength of him. “The zombie, it had weak points.”

  “Its joints. Go for the knees and elbows,” he said.

  Of course he’d noticed. “Yes. Disable it and you have a better chance of killing it.”

  He nodded.

  The Sapa called out and the guards moved over, walking along their line. Nera forced herself to cower, clutching Niklas’ arm. He frowned down at her, but that just helped her charade. The guards eyed her, talking to themselves.

  They’d seen her kill their guard. But a man was very different from a zombie. And she hoped they were out for some revenge.

  “Leave us alone,” Nera called out, making sure her voice wobbled. She felt the confused gazes of everyone in their group.

  “Nera, no,” Niklas said. A guard butted him with the end of a spear.

  The guards gesticulated to her and to each other, then one leaned down and yanked her up.

  She let out a frightened cry. It sounded pretty darn good, she thought. She heard the crowd titter with excitement.

  The guards shoved her to the edge of the pit, holding her teetering on the edge. Another zombie was marched in and set into the pit. She eyed it. It was a big one, a male. It circled the pit, stopping to investigate the bloodstains where the body of its fallen comrade had lain.

  Nera glanced back at Niklas. His face was set in hard lines, his eyes a mix of anger and concern.

  She winked at him and he froze.

  Then, with a hard shove, she was pushed into the pit.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Nik pressed his hands into the hard-packed dirt beneath him and watched Nera shed her scared female routine.

  She circled the zombie, eying it like it was a mild interference in her day. The crowd was chanting.

  The zombie started toward her, making a snarling sound
. Nera went still, watching it.

  Then she ran.

  She executed one of her signature graceful leaps and landed a vicious roundhouse kick to the zombie’s head.

  The creature’s head snapped back, the force behind it making the creature stagger.

  God, she was brilliant. Nik couldn’t stop the grin on his face. He knew as long as he lived, he’d never find another woman like Nera Darc. A woman who was dark and light, deadly and complicated.

  Nera landed and stalked behind the creature. She ran up its back and planted her knees on the zombie’s shoulders. Then she reached down and wrenched, snapping the creature’s neck.

  It fell in the sand at her feet and she looked up at the Sapa, her face its usual impassive mask.

  “I won your primitive, bloodthirsty game. I demand you release my people.”

  The Sapa stood, studying Nera like a pet who’d just bitten her. She waved a hand. “Come, I want to talk.”

  “Release them. Now.”

  The Sapa’s eyes narrowed, but she chopped a hand in the air and Nik found the guards coming over and slicing away their bindings.

  Nera looked up again. “I am not the leader of our group. It is not me you want to talk to.”

  The Sapa tilted her head. “But you are a warrior and clearly the strongest.”

  “That isn’t how we choose our leaders.”

  The Rumin leader frowned. “Fine. Bring the other woman, too.”

  Nik watched Avril swallow, take a deep breath, then step forward. Nera jumped out of the pit right near Niklas. She stalked over to him.

  “You are amazing.” He cupped her cheeks.

  A brief smile touched her lips.

  He yanked her close and kissed her. He had to keep it frustratingly brief, then stepped back.

  “Let me get us out of here and then you can show me how much you appreciate my magnificence,” she said.

  “You got it.”

  He watched her walk beside Avril, taking the steps up to the Sapa two at a time. He watched them standing in front of the leader. She was talking and eying Nera with a strange mix of wariness and awe.

  After a brief conversation, the Sapa waved a hand and led them back down to Niklas and the others.

  Nera moved straight to him, and because he couldn’t help himself, he yanked her in close to his side.