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THE ROOSEVELT CONSPIRACY

Page 18

by Matt James


  Hearst started back the way they had come. English had a point. They had not seen or heard any sign of the natives for a while. He had expected one or two of their scouts to have caught up to them by now at least.

  “Maybe…”

  Hearst shushed him with a wave of his hand. Something was wrong. He unslung his rifle, using it to scan their surroundings. Nothing moved. He squinted up into the canopy and listened. What had once been a jungle full of life now seemed empty.

  The air seemed still and stale, so much so that there didn’t even seem to be any insects. Up above, not a leaf stirred, and no monkeys swung. He crouched, examining the ground.

  “Doctor, do you feel it?”

  “What?”

  “The emptiness. Look, there are not even any insects on the ground. No life in the trees. The jungle seems empty, lifeless.”

  “Your nerves are getting the better of you, Hearst.”

  “Listen!”

  English stopped talking and looked around. A deafening silence reigned. The humid, soupy atmosphere that had once been so prevalent now seemed gone, replaced by something heavier and more oppressive.

  “What is that?” English said, pointing.

  Hearst turned, his eyes searching for what English was talking about. Finally, he saw it. The part of the jungle in front of him seemed somehow wrong, the vines growing over something that wasn’t the right colour. He walked towards it.

  “It’s stone!” he exclaimed, using his machete to scrape away the top layer of vines. “Hewn stone!”

  He circled the object, eventually finding what looked like a doorway. He hacked at the vines covering it to discover that it was indeed an opening.

  “I think this is a dwelling,” Hearst said in awe, peering into the gloomy interior.

  “Could it be… Z?”

  “I don’t know.”

  In the gloomy interior of the stone building, something moved. Hearst first thought it was a trick of the light, but then it happened again. What looked like a shadow was moving within the darkness of the hut. He raised his rifle.

  “Who goes there?”

  English watched as something grabbed Hearst around the waist and yanked him into the stone structure. The man screamed, letting off one shot before dropping his weapon. His screams continued until a wet tearing sound emanated from within, followed by a series of revolting squelching sounds.

  The doctor found himself paralysed with fear as something emerged from the stone hut and turned its gaze towards him. His mind rebelled at the impossible sight before him, even as it lunged forward and ripped his guts out.

  The Lost City of Terror is available from Amazon here!

  Or find more great Archaeological Thrillers at www.severedpress.com

 

 

 


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