Pyramid of the Dead: A Zombie Novel

by John McCuaig

  Just as he was about to give up and face his fate, he heard the clicking of the various locks being thrown. The door creaked open and a beautiful young girl beckoned them inside. Ayar recognised her at once; she had come from a local village less than a year before to work in the Tambos. It was socially deemed very honourable work to be in servitude to the higher classes and at the time, her family had been ever so proud. Nevertheless, she had been watching the fighting from a high window. Her father and elder brother had changed. They were part of Supay’s army now and were eating towards the Tambo...towards her.

  “Thank you,” Ayar said with a little bow of his head as the heavy door slammed shut behind the last of his men. As the locks were secured, the girl gave him a nervous, little smile in return. For a moment, neither of them heard or acknowledged the beasts banging frantically at the door.

  “What is your name, girl,” Ayar asked as he too fought back a silly, boyish smile from his face.

  “Siza,” she replied. “Siza Occlo, sir.”

  “Well, thank you again, my dear Siza.” For many weeks, he had been meaning to ask her name. He had seen her in the Tambos before and now he cursed his lack of resolve that it had taken this day of madness for him to find out. He wished there was time to get to know her better but there was no help for it. It was too late now. With a little nod, Ayar moved away.

  While attempting to catch his breath, he took stock of their situation and was alarmed upon the realisation that he was down to only twenty-three men. They and the six young women that lived and worked inside the Tambos were all that remained of Tarapoto. As he looked out of the window, Ayar saw that the number of the undead in the courtyard was still growing steadily. The freshly slaughtered citizens of his town were rising to join with the army of ravenous monsters. There must have been over a thousand of the undead bearing down upon them by now.

  Ayar could hear the creaking of the heavy door hinges as their numbers grew, weighing heavily against the barrier themselves as they sought out the fresh meat. Like the rest of his men, Ayar knew that it would only be a matter of time before they breached the entrance; it was never designed to hold back such force. When that happened, they would have no chance of surviving that onslaught. He smiled bitterly, realising that his dreams of the future would never come to fruition.

  Shaking himself out of his pity, Ayar motioned to a group of scared looking girls to come to the window beside him. When they gathered around him, he spoke softly. “We need to get word back to Cuzco about what has happened here. I need you to get to the next village, somehow get word to the runners. They will take your message to the King.” He spoke of the king but in truth, Ayar wanted more than anything for the warning to get to his brother. “I need all of you to be brave and do exactly as I say.”

  The girls were already shaking with fear and his heart sank a little as he realised that the fate of Cuzco and even the world as he knew it, lay with these nervous young women, barely more than children themselves. Nevertheless, he was pleasantly surprised when the girl he knew as Siza bravely stepped forward.

  “What do you need us to do, Protector?” she asked as she stood before him, strong and tall. Ayar could not fight back his smile this time. He’d known there was something special about this girl.

  “My men and I shall open the doors and attack the beasts to draw their attention. When the way is clear, you must climb out the rear facing window and run for your lives, and for the future of our loved ones.”

  “And what will happen to you?” she asked, but her fallen expression told Ayar that she’d already guessed what the answer would be.

  “My fate has already been written, dear Siza. All I can do now is to try and give you a chance to get away.” He took her small hand in his. “Know this: if you succeed, my death will be proud and content.”

  The beautiful Siza cupped his cheek in her delicate palm as she placed a kiss on the other. She too would have liked to have known the city’s Protector a little bit better. Before she could say anything more, he indicated to the window, which the woman would exit to hide his embarrassment. “Get them ready,” he said quietly as he wished he could have returned that kiss and more. “We don’t have much time.”

  After checking that everyone was in place, the women were ready to make a run for it; Ayar gave the order for the door to be opened. The soldiers pushed forward, and the first of the undead to show itself was quickly dispatched back to the hell from whence it came. The calls in the square blasted out as the beasts sensed the soldier’s arrival.

  Ayar and his men’s momentary forward movement were quickly reversed beneath the weight of so many and in a matter of a few seconds, they were being pushed backwards, deeper and deeper into the Tambos. The men were being picked off quickly, one by one, and Ayar could only pray that his plan had worked...and that Siza, the beautiful Siza, was safe.

  Soon enough, there was no longer room even to swing his axe, not that it was doing much good anyway. As his arms were seized tight and he felt dozens of sets of teeth sink slowly, agonisingly down into his flesh, Ayar could still hear cries for help. Some of the voices belonged to the women he had tried to save; he could hear their screams from outside and with that realisation, came the tears and the rage, for he knew that death would bring him no relief.

  *****

  Ayar’s eyes slowly opened to let him see the still packed out Tambos. His new vision of the room showed him no colour at all. Everything he saw was just dull and grey. As he sat up, one of the girls, who had fled the building earlier approached him, carrying a golden platter filled to the top with food. Instead of the usual llama and guinea pig, Ayar was offered a fine selection of sweet human flesh. Thinking of nothing but his insatiable hunger, Ayar took a small child’s arm and moaned in ecstasy, as he tasted this wondrous new delight. Another of the young girls shuffled over and offered him a tall glass of still warm blood. After taking his fill, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before he dropped to his knees and thanked his master, Supay.

  *****

  “You must believe me,” Siza screamed at the grim faced soldier standing before her. They were standing outside a small garrison set up at a busy looking crossroads. “They’ve killed every single person in Tarapoto,” she cried, “everyone, didn’t you hear me?” The anger, fear and monumental frustration were clear in her voice as she continued urgently. “Soon they’ll be marching along this road! We must warn the King! Please! News of this evil army must reach Cuzco.”

  The old and grizzled soldier looked deep into the girl’s eyes, deciding whether to believe this wild and fanciful plea. Whatever he saw in there somehow convinced him. He let out a sigh and called over his men who were nearby, watching them intensely.

  “You two get the relay started,” he said as he pointed to a couple of teenage boys. “Get word of this attack back to the capital. Tell them what this girl has said and tell them that we’ll be investigating her claims.” The two young men nodded by way of reply, and set off running down the road to the north. Turning to the rest of his soldiers, the man continued with his orders. “You need to go to Tarapoto and find out what has been happening down there.” They too simply acknowledged him and silently followed orders, glancing at each other as if they too wondered if her story was true. The group, only a half dozen men, set off in the direction from which the girl had come, leaving their leader and Siza alone.

  “Thank you, good sir,” she said. “I spoke the truth. Soon you will see that for yourself.”

  “Don’t bother thanking me yet, young lady,” he replied, with a snarl evident in his voice. “If this turns out to be nothing but nonsense, you will pay dearly for your lies. It may be best for you to say a prayer now.” His eyes caught the red of a blood-stained wrist and his brows quirked downwards. “What happened there, child?” he asked.

  She followed his gaze and her free hand caressed the tender skin. “As we tried to escape, a group of those beasts were waiting for us. They attacked us as
soon as we got outside the Tambos. There were so many of them...I’m almost certain I was the only one who got away.” She looked down at the wound and wrapped her fingers around it to stem the slowly seeping blood. “One of them managed to take a bite out of me, though.”

  “Come inside with me, girl,” the soldier said, softening his stance. “Let me try and sort that out for you.” Putting his arm gently around her shoulders, he carefully led Siza into the garrison building, and then on to his own personal chambers.

  *****

  Carefully, and ever so gently, the old soldier washed the blood away from the bite mark on the young woman’s wrist. Worry etched his brow as he examined it closely. “I have to tell you, dear child, I don’t like the look of this,” The veins surrounding the wound were an ominous grey and they throbbed angrily around the red flesh that bordered the broken skin, spreading out to her fingers and heading right up to the girl’s heart. “As soon as my men return, I will have you taken to the next town see a doctor.” His eyes were still transfixed by the wound. “I have never seen anything like this in all of my life.”

  “Don’t worry about me, sir,” Siza muttered absently, patting the older man’s hand. “I’ll be fine. And thank you again for your kindness.” The soldier smiled. His own daughter was about the same age as this girl and as she settled down on his bed, he tucked a blanket around her as she closed her eyes. “You rest for a little while, child.” With that, he rose up and left her to sleep. He thought that sleep was the body’s best defence against infection.

  As Siza snuggled under the warm fur covers, her mind began to wander. Strange and vivid images raced through her head. She heard the Protector, Ayar’s voice; it was as if he was calling her from a distance. She could not quite make out the words but she still felt drawn to them. Even as she dreamed, she somehow knew that they would be back together again soon.

  *****

  For over an hour, the old soldier sat on a little, three legged stool outside the garrison building as he watched the long, empty road. As he waited for his men to return, he wondered what, if anything, they would find back at Tarapoto. He heard the garrison door creaking open behind him and smiled. The girl was at last awake.

  “Are you feeling any better, my dear?” he asked without turning around. His eyes were still glued to the empty road, watching for any sign of movement, any hint of the return of his men.

  Small hands clamped tightly down upon his aged shoulders, they were impossibly, inhumanly strong and all the old man could do was to scream as Siza’s teeth ripped into the leathery flesh of his neck.

  She enjoyed this new taste.

  9- The Undead Arrive At Cuzco

  Word soon reached the capital, the words that the undead army were on their way. The first of the runners had arrived at the gates of Cuzco the day after the attack first began in the town of Tarapoto. Throughout the afternoon, more and more of them arrived, along with steady handfuls of refugees escaping from the oncoming storm. All of them told the same terrifying story. An army of the undead were devouring all that stood in their path as they swayed through the empire, and they would be here very soon. Stories of their evil deeds and of what they did to whomever they captured spread like wildfire throughout the city and into the ears of both sets of troops amassed outside.

  Word about the coming horde and about where they came from brought a deep rage and ire to Minco. On hearing the news, he cursed and swore that he would take his revenge, knowing of course, who was to blame for all this.

  Against all traditions and with no regard to the law, but with a hundred of his most faithful men at his side, Minco stormed over to The Temple of Inti, where Taipi and priests claimed dominion. Any priest stupid enough to try to stop him from entering was slain without a moment’s hesitation or any show of mercy. He was not about to argue or bargain with these so-called holy men.

  After smashing his way in, Minco found just what he suspected- the High Priest was nowhere to be found. However, after a little bit of gentle persuasion by some of Minco’s bigger soldiers, one of the few remaining temple priests finally admitted where his master had gone. Minco listened but he already knew what the answer would be.

  The damn fool had gone to Huacas and unleashed the army of Supay.

  Minco met with his generals and told them that the fight against the undead would happen outside the walls. They were to prepare the armies; they were to hold the line at all costs, nothing was to get inside the city.

  “What about the Spaniards, the ones that are still outside the walls?” One of his men said. “Will they fight alongside us?”

  “They will have no choice,” Minco replied. “I will go and speak to them now.”

  The Protector left the gates and went up the hill to where the Spaniards had set up camp. Surrounded by his own men, Minco called out to them. “A hostile army is approaching. You must go down and join with my soldiers and prepare for battle.” The Spaniards looked silently at him with mistrust in their eyes until Minco added, “If you stay here, you will all be dead before the sun sets.”

  “Where is Pizarro?” one of the soldiers asked, slowly coming forward. “Why does he not come here to tell us of this threat?”

  “He cannot leave the city at this time,” Minco replied simply. He did not want them to know what had transpired inside the city walls, not yet anyway. “Trust me; the danger is only too real.”

  “We’re not going anywhere,” the surly soldier said as his hand inched towards the hilt of his sword. “Pizarro ordered us to stay here and that’s what we’ll do until he tells us otherwise.”

  “I don’t have time to argue with you,” Minco shouted. “If you want to stay here and die, be my guest.”

  The Spaniards were surprised, they expected a bit more of an argument, even though they did not believe him, they instantly knew something was amiss.

  “Fools,” Minco hissed as he walked away with his generals. “Soon to be dead fools.”

  *****

  On returning to the steps of the palace, Minco called Pizarro out for a meeting. No matter what was heading their way, he still needed to ensure his Kings release. That was, and always would be, his first goal. He needed the Spaniard outside so he could see the panic spreading around the city.

  “Are you mad?” Pizarro spoke from the window. “Why should I leave here? What do I have to gain from this?”

  “You have everything to gain, Pizarro, and nothing to lose. You know I will not risk my King, this is important and goes far beyond any problem you could imagine.”

  “Don’t trust him, sir,” Almargo whispered in his master’s ear. “He must be up to something, please, you need to remember he’s nothing but a savage.”

  Pizarro never answered his man; he called over to two of his men. “Keep a good hold of the king, if they try anything, kill him; show them that Spaniards are true to their word. I need to find out what he’s on about.” With one last look outside at his mountain of gold, he headed for the door. All Almargo could do was shake his head.

  “Spaniard, we have a problem,” Minco said as his nemesis approached, walking down the steep stone steps.

  “Don’t go and do anything stupid now, Minco,” Pizarro replied with unhidden contempt. “I can see well that the gold is almost delivered. With a little more time and patience, we can finish this unfortunate incident.” He gestured backward towards the palace. “You’ll then get your King back in one piece and I’ll take my ransom and leave. Everyone will be happy.”

  “No...you don’t understand me; this has nothing to do with the damned gold. There is an enemy approaching- a fierce and deadly foe. An army of the walking dead has been set free from the underworld and they’ll be here at the city gates before the day is out.”

  Pizarro laughed aloud like a child. “You must think I am really stupid, Incan. What was that? An army of the walking dead, you say? You could’ve at least tried something a bit more believable than that.” His tone changed and the anger was once again
clear in his voice. “I’ve warned you before and I’ll tell you this again, my friend. Don’t try to trick me or we’ll all end up dead.”

  “What I tell you is true,” Minco said, unsure of how he could prove this to the Spaniard. “You have got to listen to me. I don’t want you to do anything; I just need you to be aware that a battle is coming. I need you to remain calm while we deal with this threat.”

  Pizarro just smiled at him and shook his head in disbelief.

  Minco did not have to worry long about providing some proof. Screams rang out from the sentry posts, men high up in the towers were pointing deep into the jungle. They were here, and it was far sooner than anyone expected.

  “Get back to the palace and wait for this to be finished. No matter what you hear or see, I need you to stay inside.” Minco shouted at Pizarro, and then sprinted away without waiting for an answer.

  The Spaniard was still unsure what was happening. He suspected it was some sort of trick, but seeing the grim faces of a few of Minco’s soldiers gave him some doubts. Then his thoughts drifted to his own soldiers that were still camped outside the city gates. Instinctively, Pizarro touched the hilt of his sword, but before he could move, his eyes were drawn to the wondrous array of gold piled up high to his left. He released the grip of his sword, mouth-watering. His hunger to have the gold was far, far stronger than any urge to save his men. The Spanish soldiers would have to look after themselves for a while. They were being paid enough to take that risk. Turning away from the forthcoming battle, Pizarro returned to the palace.

  *****

  The amassed armies of Cuzco, of the Empire, formed their battle lines less than a hundred yards outside the city walls. All of these hardened soldiers had faced many an enemy before but the sight before them must have sent shivers racing along their spines. Charging at them down the lush, green hillside was an army of thousands of undead men and women. There was no shouting, no blaring of trumpets and no banging of drums like the charge back at the port of Puna. Death was heading right for them, and it came all too silently.