Pyramid of the Dead: A Zombie Novel

by John McCuaig

  The other three had seen the first fall and seemed to approach a bit more carefully. They growled and groaned as they circled in a pack around their target. Minco removed his truncheon from his back, a two-foot long stick with small but sharpened golden spikes attached all along the end. He knew that more of the beasts would soon be heading up the stairs so he did what he had to do. He took the fight to them. He attacked the undead.

  His years of training were, once again, too much for the soldiers of Supay to handle. Both his weapons swung and swiped away at the three beasts, all three of whom were dead citizens of Tarapoto. Thuds and crunches of metal on bone exploded in the warm mid-morning air and he quickly sent his pursuers back to where they belonged, back to hell. Once again, Minco was alone on the rooftop.

  Screams reverberated from the stairwell. The undead from the streets were now making their way up to the roof. He needed to make his move. Minco checked on his surroundings and the streets below once again. He knew he would only have one chance to make this new plan work. Standing up high on the raised stone edge of the roof, he waited until the rooftop was full to overflowing of the undead beasts. He waved his weapons wildly around about, hoping to keep them away until he was ready. They paced around him, stalking, as they waited for the chance to strike.

  When there was no room left on the roof, Minco leapt off backwards. He dropped the two floors like a stone, but he landed strategically into a cart full of wheat, effectively breaking his fall. As soon as he was down, he spun off the cart and got moving. A massive waterfall of dead flesh flowed off the rooftop straight after Minco but they were not nearly quick enough. He was already off and running down the street towards the gates.

  Two of Supay’s soldiers had stayed down on the roadway and they stood ahead of him now, blocking Minco’s escape path. He knew there was no time to take a stand and fight them. The beasts behind him were untangling themselves from each other and would shortly become a threat once more.

  With a wild roar, Minco shoulder charged the soldiers in front of him, sending one of them flying up against a wall. A swipe of his truncheon to the chest of the other sent it sprawling on its backside. Neither of the strikes was a kill shot and in only a few seconds, they were back up on their feet and along with the rest of them, right behind Minco and in hot pursuit.

  The Protector had no time to ease his way through the carrion riddled streets. He jumped and skipped over piles of bones, sliding along on rivers of blood and gore, once even ensnaring his foot in a tangle of intestines. He stumbled and nearly fell, just managing to grab hold of a doorway to steady himself. It took him a few seconds to cut away the slick trap around his ankle.

  No matter how quick he was, the task took too long; the charging beasts were only yards away by the time he got moving again. Once he was through the gates, things got even worse. On the road ahead, scores of the undead spotted him and began racing towards him. The full force of the undead army sent from Cuzco into the jungle had reached the city walls. He had no other option; he turned and ran deep into the thick jungle, using nature for cover as he fled.

  Minco ran for over an hour and still, he could not shake off his pursuers. There were far too many of them and they were all over the jungle like flies on a corpse. He was moving far too slowly through the thick foliage and he knew the creatures were following onto his scent. Finally, Minco resigned himself to the fact that he was not going to get away from them.

  As he reached a small, grassy clearing, he decided that this was where he would make his final stand. He knew this place well. He’d been born just a short walk away in a small and simple farming village. He had spent his childhood in this very spot, marching along the length of it as he imagined he was a loyal soldier of the King. He and his brother, for as long as he could remember, had dreamed of fighting the enemies of the empire. He bared his teeth in a parody of a smile. They had sure gotten their wish, hadn’t they?

  Dropping down to one knee, Minco prepared himself for one more battle. As he readied his trusty weapons around him, his thoughts were of his brother, and of what he had become. The time for play had long since passed.

  He would not keep losing men and ground to these beasts.

  Enough was enough.

  14- Alone in the Jungle

  Not once did Inguill have to look behind her as she ran for her life down the blood soaked streets. There was no need to check if they were still there, she could clearly hear them coming.

  Tears rolled down her beautiful, olive-toned face as she thought of Minco. She had seen those hungry beasts on his tail. She could see the gates ahead and the chance to escape, but still, she cried in fear for her love.

  As the open gates grew closer and closer, Inguill saw a handful of the undead soldiers in the distance, coming down the main roadway from the direction of the crossroads. They saw her too, she knew that only too well, for they burst into a run at the sight of some fresh meat. She would never make it back to the others that way. She would have to get into the jungle and try to work her way around them.

  It was hard going, as she pushed herself forward through the thick foliage, Inguill quickly realised that she knew nothing of the jungle or anything about how to navigate through its dense mass. She was a city girl, both born and raised. All she could do was run blindly through and never stop until she lost the pack of beasts on her tail. At least then, she would have a moment to formulate some sort of plan.

  She kept going for nearly an hour before at last; the only sounds she could hear were that of her own laboured breathing. Perhaps now the undead were far enough away that she might have a chance to slow down for a little while. She bent over, struggling to catch her breath, and as she did, it dawned on her that she had absolutely no idea where she now was. She looked up to the sun, squinting at its brightness. She had heard many stories of how the trackers and hunters used its path and height in the sky to find direction, but she was definitely neither of those. She sighed softly and decided it was better to move than to be stationary, whether she was lost or not.

  Hours passed as she walked aimlessly through the trees. She had no idea where it would lead her. She could be walking in circles or perhaps even heading straight back towards the arms of the soldiers of Ukhu Pacha. She thought of finding somewhere to hide, but even the slim chance that she could help defeat the horde pushed her forward. On and on, she moved through the heavy foliage, cursing herself for forcing Minco to take her on his mission to Tarapoto. If she had stayed with Pizarro and the others or back at the pyramid with the king, then she would not have jeopardised the success of the mission. Now she could only pray that her skills would not be needed at the altar of Supay.

  The sound of movement ahead froze her in place and she held her breath when she saw the branches in front of her bristle. Something was headed right for her. There was no time to run, no time even to turn away. Suddenly the branch moved away and Inguill found herself standing in front of a man.

  They both stared motionless and uncomprehending for a moment as each person tried to come to terms with the other. He was no monster- Inguill could see by his attire and his strong, tall build that this man was a hunter. He would know this jungle well. This man could help her.

  “What in the God’s name are you doing out here,” the young man breathed, sounding as surprised as Inguill that he had not come across one of the undead. “You should be hiding somewhere.” His eyes moved away from her and scanned the jungle behind. “Are you mad? Have you not seen all the corpses walking around?”

  A little smile of relief blossomed to Inguill’s lovely face.

  “I can’t hide,” she said as she closed the gap between them. The hunter instinctively lowered his axe to his side. “I need to find my friends,” Inguill continued. “We were on a mission to destroy the connection between Ukhu Pacha and Hanan Pacha. We believe that will end this horror.” She gently bowed her head as was customary, showing him that she was pleading for his assistance. “My name is Inguill- the
High Priestess of Cuzco. Please, I need you to help me find them. They are somewhere on the road to Huacas.”

  The hunter scanned the woman from head to toe, taking in her fancy, golden attire and wondering how true this tale might be. He had only been to Cuzco a few times to trade his goods but he had never seen her there, not that he ever got that close to the temples, so it was not too much of a surprise that he did not recognise her. He’d never been one for praying to the Gods. He preferred to trust in the reality of what he could see or feel. Of course, now he could see the dead walking his lands, so questioning the god’s existence was no longer feasible.

  Whatever had happened, the hunter’s sharp instincts were seldom wrong and they now told him that she was telling the truth. Now all he had to do was to decide whether to risk his life helping her or stay here in the jungle as far from danger as possible.

  “Well, my lady,” he spoke to her softly. “What is this great mission? Please, can you tell me how you are going to destroy them?”

  Inguill spent the next few minutes retelling about the massacre at Cuzco and about how their small group had set off for the City of the Snake to destroy the statue of Supay. She explained how he was using his powers to raise and control the undead and how breaking the golden effigy would return their citizens to the peace of the grave. After a little sigh, she also told him about what happened to her Minco, and how he might still be trapped back in the city of Tarapoto.

  “That’s a fine story,” he muttered, his eyes continually darting around, forever checking their surroundings. He was still worried she had brought some of the beasts along with her into the jungle, his jungle. “Let me start off by saying there is no chance of me taking you anywhere near Tarapoto.” Inguill noticed his grip slowly tightening around his axe as he spoke. “I’ve seen for myself how many of those monsters are still lurking there. If he somehow managed to survive, then he’ll have to look after himself.”

  She wanted to argue with him, but she would take what she could get. Any help he could offer would be better than none. She had faith in her Minco. If there were anyone in this world who could survive that city, it would be him. She still had the feeling she would be seeing him soon and that felt like a promise, a gift from the gods.

  “So you’ll come with me to find my friends instead?” A wide smile was spreading across her face. Inguill saw in his eyes that he had already agreed in his mind.

  He nodded reluctantly. His instincts, his head told him to run but his heart wanted him to help this woman and her cause. “I’ll help, but let me tell you this, Priestess. Once we find your friends, we’ll part our ways.” He jerked his chin to the left, a wordless beckoning. “I’ll get us on the road to Huacas. We’ll find them, but then I’ll return to this place, back to where I belong.” His eyes were showing more fear by the minute. “No matter what you say, you will never convince me to enter that city, never.”

  “Thank you, kind sir,” Inguill said, taking his free hand in hers and holding it tight. “That will be just fine.” She gave him another enchanting smile. “And please, may I ask your name?”

  “Ninan Cuyuchi,” he said brusquely. He gently broke her grip and moved ahead, his axe once more at the ready. He seemed almost angry with himself for agreeing to help. “Come on, let us...” He broke off suddenly, tilting his head as though straining to hear a sound. Ninan placed a hand on her shoulder. “Wait, I can hear something.”

  Inguill strained her ears but heard nothing. “What is it?” she asked, keeping her voice as low as possible. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “Get ready to run,” he said as he scanned the jungle around them. “They’re coming.”

  Then she heard them. Grunts and groans were coming from directly behind them. They were getting louder and louder as they advanced. Ninan’s fear that she had been followed had now been justified. It seemed that a mass of the undead soldiers had gotten hold of her scent trail and were rapidly closing in on them.

  “I’m so sorry about this, Ninan. I’m sorry that I got you involved,” Inguill said with heartfelt regret. “If we can just reach Huacas, all of this will be ended.”

  Ninan had no time to listen to her apologies. He took hold of Inguill’s hand and ran.

  “It’s not too far now,” he still whispered, as if that mattered now. “Once we get to the river road we can build a distance between ourselves and them.” He was trying to soften the truth, let Inguill have a little bit of hope but he need not have bothered to waste his breath. Inguill had seen enough on this day to have learned that they would never be rid of them that easily.

  Just as the sound of fast running water could be heard above the calls of the undead, the beasts finally caught up with their prey. Bursting through the trees behind them, the creatures lunged after them with vigour, desperate for a taste of their flesh.

  “Keep moving!” Ninan shouted to Inguill. “You need to get to the river! Hurry up!” With one last look at her face, Ninan skidded to a halt behind her. He turned, holding his axe high as he waited for the beasts to arrive.

  “Ninan!” She screamed, stopping a little further along the pathway. “Come with me,” she pleaded. “Please! We can both get away from here!” She wanted him to run after her but she could see by the rigidity of his posture that he would not be going anywhere.

  “Finish your mission,” he called back. “Find your friends and send these damn monsters back to where they came from.” His back was to her and she wished he could see her eyes so that he would know that she understood the magnitude of what he had done for her. Instead, she honoured his sacrifice; she ran.

  She glanced back only the once and saw him attacking the horde as it reached him. Dozens of the undead soldiers had surrounded him as he fought a vain battle. His axe sent a few back to the underworld, but he never had a chance to survive and soon, he was borne to the ground under the weight of grasping hands and snapping teeth.

  As she ran, his screams rent the atmosphere and became indelible in her mind. Tears slid down her cheeks as her lungs burned but still she ran.

  Those precious few seconds that Ninan had given her was more than enough to allow Inguill the chance to get ahead and out onto the road he talked about. As she stepped onto the dry, dusty path that ran alongside the edge of the mighty ravine, she stopped and stood still for a few seconds. The view looked all clear in both directions but Ninan had never gotten the chance to tell her whether she was to turn left or right.

  Roars of hunger bellowed behind her, signalling that the undead were back on their hunt. The hunter was no more and now, they searched for some more fresh blood. Inguill made her choice without debating herself further. She turned to the right and began sprinting as fast as she could.

  As the path narrowed to barely a couple of feet in width, a woman appeared directly before her. She snarled and groaned as she paced towards her. The woman appeared to be close to Inguill’s age but her once youthful skin was now all but scraped away, leaving a few torn and bloodied tatters of flesh to dangle from her bony face. Inguill turned towards the other way but three more of the undead creatures staggered out of the thick foliage on either side of the path. Inguill was surrounded.

  There was no escape route left.

  Groaning and slavering with excitement and delight, the walking dead quickly encircled around her and moved in to attack. They stopped a few feet away and let out a chorus of screams, possibly deriving some sort of twisted pleasure from her fear.

  Inguill knelt down and grabbed a jagged edged branch that appeared to have been broken during a storm or perhaps during the passing of these creatures. With heavy-handed swipes, she tried to keep the beasts at bay. The undead attackers ducked away and leaned out of range of her feeble attacks. If these things could laugh, she thought, they would be laughing at her now, mocking her fear, taunting and goading her until she wore herself out.

  As the last of her energy slipped away, Inguill did the last thing that she could do, she screamed.

/>   15- The Journey to Salvation

  Back on the road to Huacas

  After Minco was saved by the Spaniards

  It did not take long after being rescued in the clearing by Pizarro and his men for Minco’s mind to return to thoughts of Inguill. Had she even managed to escape from the beasts at Tarapoto? Was she still somewhere in the jungle running for her life or had she been caught and devoured by the hungry horde? Could she have even joined their growing ranks? He wondered if he would have the chance to tell her he loved her. He hoped that she knew that already but he wished he could say it all the same, and the burden of having remained silent for all these years weighed heavy in his heart.

  “Well,” Pizarro began. “Things may be looking up at last. We seem to have lost them.” Pizarro strode alongside Minco on the narrow path. “Hopefully, things will remain quiet until we can get to Huacas.”

  Minco did not even bother to answer him, though he was surprised that the Spaniard would be so casual about their situation. Minco himself suspected that a few more surprises would be lying in wait ahead.

  “What’s happened to your woman, Inguill,” the Spaniard asked, finally noticing her absence. “Was she taken by the beasts?”

  “We got separated back at the last town,” he replied almost despondently. “I have no idea where she is or even if she made it to safety.”

  “What did I tell you, you fool, you should never have taken her with you,” Pizarro snapped back. The anger was clear in his voice. “What the hell are we going to do now if breaking that damn statue doesn’t work? I can only guess that you haven’t got a clue.” He shook his head wildly, hysteria creeping into his voice as he went on. “I’ll tell you this, my Incan friend, you’d better hope it does work or the blood of your people will be on your hands.”