The Vilcabamba Prophecy: A Nick Randall Novel

by Robert Rapoza

  “Samantha,” Francisco was now speaking in a soft, almost apologetic tone, “there’s more. Do you remember the night of your mother’s accident?”

  His words drew Samantha’s gaze back to his face.

  “The call she received was from someone who had a rare artifact that was critical to your father’s discovery. The package she picked up was an item that would have allegedly provided incontrovertible proof to his theory. Unfortunately, it was lost along with your mother on that terrible night.”

  Upon hearing this, a cold shiver ran down Samantha’s spine. Somehow, she knew that the medallion her father had left her in the safe deposit box, the one in her backpack at that very moment, was the artifact. Somehow, her father had taken possession of it, and only she and her father knew.

  Sam began to rub her eyes, hoping that she might just be dreaming and would awaken from this nightmarish spider’s web in which she found herself ensnared. Sadly, however, she wasn’t dreaming. This was real. She tilted her head down, sat back in the chair and began to sigh and shake her head.

  Francisco’s voice was a whisper now. “I know this is hard, and I’m sorry to have to tell you this under these circumstances, but you are the best hope we have of finding your father. I need your help, Sam. I need you to lead another team into the jungle to find the ruins. We’re running out of time. Your father is running out of time. I’m not sure what supplies they have left, but I do know that they can’t survive out there for more than a few days.” Seeing that she was in a state of shock, Francisco waited patiently for her to gather herself.

  Finally she spoke. “When do I leave?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  As the head of the engineering division of Gemini Orbital Science, a large aerospace company in Virginia, George Walker was used to late nights. Tonight, however, was late, even for him. George scratched his head and looked at his watch: 11:27 p.m. He was tired, but this was an important night. It was so important, in fact, that the CEO of the company personally asked him to meet with this client. Tonight, George was meeting with the man who had ordered $1.2 billion worth of satellites from Gemini Orbital. According to Mr. Crespi, the CEO of his company, their client was in town on business and was leaving the next morning. Tonight was the only time he could meet, and he had asked for George personally. As the saying goes, the customer is always right, especially when he’s spending a cool $1.2 billion.

  George stood up from his desk and walked the long hall that led to Test Bay 2. The moonlight filtered through the window, casting shadows across the hallway. At the angle of the moonlight, George cast a hideously elongated shadow upon the left side wall. He shivered for a moment and immediately felt foolish that he, a fully-grown man, could be afraid of the dark, especially at work. Finally reaching the door, George turned the handle and let himself in. He sat down and waited near the fourth and last satellite of his customer’s order.

  As a firm that made sophisticated componentry and satellites for military and communications applications, Gemini Orbital had several cleanrooms, enclosed spaces in which airborne particulates, contaminants and pollutants are kept within strict limits. Test Bay 2 was the largest cleanroom at the company. This was the room where a team of engineers assembled and tested the latest satellites built for the company’s ever-growing list of clients. It was also the home to the final satellite that George’s team had built for the man he was meeting tonight. George was proud of his work, and it had been a long road getting here. As a small boy, he had been sickly and was forced to spend most of his time indoors. He had picked up the space exploration bug during the long days stuck inside, reading books about space, while other kids roamed around the neighborhood. Now, he mused about how he had turned a bad situation into the passion of his life.

  “Mr. Walker?”

  George jumped. “Yes? Hello?”

  Three figures moved out from the shadows to face him as he stood by his satellite. Two of them were burly men with short-cropped hair and hard, angular features. The third was physically smaller, but walked with great confidence. The lead man had short, neatly combed yellow hair, framing an oval face with tight, firm skin. His hawk-like sky blue eyes conveyed an air of authority, bordering on intimidation. George immediately assumed he was the client, but the presence of the other men was odd. They were clearly his bodyguards, but why would he need them for a meeting with an engineer? Uneasiness crept into George.

  “Mr. Walker, I would like to introduce you to Mr. Dumond. He’s the one who arranged for you to lead this project,” one of the bodyguards said.

  George stepped forward, extending his hand to greet his guests. Dumond did the same.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” George said. “Thank you for making this possible. I can’t tell you how pleased we were when you hired our company to build the satellites. I was also very flattered that you asked for me personally.”

  “You earned it, Mr. Walker, and I can see by this fine satellite that we chose our team leader well.” Dumond spoke with an accent, but George couldn’t place it. Perhaps it was French?

  “Thank you, Mr. Dumond. As you know, this is the last in the series of your four satellites and it’s scheduled to be placed into geosynchronous orbit next month. This will give you some redundancy since you only need the three satellites you currently have in place to cover the entire Earth.”

  “Have all of the arrangements been made for the launch? Is there anything else you’ll need to do?”

  “We’re all set. The i’s have all been dotted and the t’s have been crossed. Our logistics team is all set to deliver this beauty to the base for launch. All I have left to do is sit back and watch it fly.”

  “Will your company need you to be present for the launch, Mr. Walker?”

  “No, but I’ll be there, anyway. Watching one of these go into the sky is the big payoff for all of the hard work we put into them. I haven’t missed a launch since I started in this business!”

  “Well, there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?”

  “Huh?”

  The two men flanking Dumond grabbed each of George’s arms. .

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Dumond approached George, a large silver gun-like object in his hand.

  “What’s that thing? Get it away from me!”

  A large, strong hand covered George’s mouth.

  “I can’t afford to have my investment endangered, Mr. Walker. Besides, I need your expertise as an energy engineer to help me utilize my new power source.” Dumond raised the device to George’s neck and pushed the trigger. George heard a soft hissing sound like air escaping, and then everything went black.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The country of Peru is well known for the many ancient ruins that dot the countryside. Probably the best known to the general public are the ruins at Machu Picchu, preserved on an isolated mountaintop site above the waters of the sacred Urubamba River. Most archaeologists believe Machu Picchu was built as an estate for the Inca emperor, Pachacuti. Beside this well-preserved site lies the Sacred Valley of the Incas, linking Machu Picchu to the ancient city of Cuzco, the capital of the former Inca Empire. Cuzco itself is an ancient, colonial city, dotted with countless churches and museums on its cobbled streets and leafy squares. Overlooking Cuzco is Sacsahuaman, a gargantuan complex carved into the lush countryside.

  Aside from these are other significant archeological sites including Vitcos-Yurak Rumi, an intricately carved granite boulder the size of a city bus; Pisac, notable for its Inca waterworks and beautiful, curving agricultural terraces; Ollantaytambo, the site of the Inca's greatest military victory over the invading Spaniards; and the beautiful Moray, one of the best examples of Inca landscaping. The latter site contains three enormous, concentric pits, each with beautifully curved sides that staircase down like the interiors of titanic flowerpots. The pits were carved out of the earth to depths of a hundred feet or more, causing variations in the air temperatures between the top and botto
m layers that differ by more than 20 degrees.

  In spite of the circumstances surrounding her father’s disappearance, Sam still couldn’t help but marvel at these incredible archaeological finds. She mused that one day she would return to Peru and give them the attention they deserved, but not today. Today, she had her sights set on finding her father.

  The first part of their journey was an uncomfortable jeep ride over unpaved dirt roads. Francisco had decided to stay at the University in case Randall or his students tried to contact him. He also felt that he could be more helpful serving as cover if anyone asked questions about either of the Randall’s’ whereabouts. Instead, four University employees accompanied Sam. Their next stop was the tribe to see if they would provide another guide for the last leg of the journey.

  Sam was still trying to sort everything out when she realized just how tired she was. She had only gotten about two hours of sleep in the last two days, and it all seemed to be hitting her on this bouncy jeep ride. She tried her best to close her eyes and get some rest, but every time her body began slipping into a restful state, the damn jeep would hit a bump and jar her back awake.

  Finally dozing off for a while, Sam awoke again just in time to see her new translator staring at her from across the seat. The young graduate student looked away as Sam’s eyes caught hers. Monica Solis was not a field researcher, but she was one of the few people at the college who could communicate with the tribe. The language they spoke was not a common dialect, and with Ernesto missing in action, Monica was about the only person left. Sam shifted in her seat. After a few moments of awkward silence, Sam addressed her admirer.

  “How long have you been studying at the University?” Sam asked.

  “This is my sixth year. I’m almost done with my Master’s thesis,” Monica replied quietly.

  “That’s wonderful! Congratulations, that’s quite an accomplishment!” Sam was genuinely happy for her. She was always proud of anyone who made the sacrifice to earn an advanced degree. “Your parents must be very proud of you.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Monica answered sheepishly, “I’ve never met them.”

  “Oh,” was all Sam could muster.

  “I grew up in foster homes, moving around every few years. When I was 18, I applied to the University and was accepted. I received financial assistance, and between the grants, loans and this job, I have been able to work on my degrees.”

  Sam nodded her head in understanding.

  “Dr. Randall, we’re here,” the driver said.

  Sam looked out the jeep’s window and saw that they had reached a clearing on the edge of a river. Francisco had explained that the only access to the tribe was by boat. Sam saw four workers packing supplies into what seemed like two very small boats to carry them and their gear. This was going to be an adventure. One of the men stopped packing and turned to Sam.

  “Hello, Dr. Randall, I’m Anselmo and I will be piloting one of the boats up the river today,” he said, stretching his hand out to Sam.

  “Thank you, Anselmo, and nice to meet you,” Sam replied, shaking his hand. “And who else do we have here?”

  “This is Jorge, Rodrigo and Daniel. Daniel will be piloting the other boat as we take you to the tribe.”

  Sam shook each hand in succession, greeting each man warmly.

  “Thank you all for helping out on such short notice. We really appreciate your help!”

  “You’re welcome Dr. Randall, we only hope we can help you to find your father,” Daniel replied with a serious look on his face. “We can only imagine what you are going through.”

  “Thank you Daniel, you’re very kind.”

  The group finished loading their gear and launched from the shore.

  The two boats motored slowly up the river. The views were breathtaking, but Sam couldn’t help but feel a sense of nervousness about meeting the tribe. After Francisco’s description, she felt very uneasy about the initial encounter. If Francisco was correct, the existence of this tribe, and the ruins her dad was seeking, would change human history. There was also the fact that no one had spoken to the elders since her dad went missing, and there was no guarantee that they would be willing to help, again. Sam shook her head and exhaled deeply as if trying to expel her uneasiness, rationalizing that there was no sense worrying about it now. Besides, she would have her answer shortly.

  It was then that Sam first realized that something was not right. She glanced up at the others in the boat, but no one else seemed to be concerned. They were going about their business, steering the boats, and talking about what lay ahead of them. Despite this, Sam couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right about the river, and then it hit her: the noise of life on the river had come to a stop. The birds and animals had fallen silent for some reason, and an eerie quietness had descended upon them.

  Suddenly, without warning, the earth began to shake violently, as if the devil himself were trying to force his way up to the surface. At first, the boats were steady, unaffected by the shaking of the land all around them. But, seconds later, the waves started coming, and the boats began rocking wildly from side to side. Caught off guard, Jorge, who was in the other boat, lost his balance and fell headfirst into the water. Sam watched in dismay as Rodrigo reached over and tried to pull his friend back in, just as another rogue wave crashed into the side of the boat, sending everyone, and all of the boat’s contents, into the churning water. The earth stopped shaking, but the waves kept coming, pounding Jorge, Anselmo and Rodrigo who struggled to stay afloat.

  Sam looked at Daniel, who was piloting their boat. His face was ashen. “Steer us closer to them—we need to get them out!” The sound of her voice brought Daniel out of his trance, as he forcefully steered the boat towards the three men in the water. Just as Daniel managed to maneuver the tiny vessel towards the others, they rounded a bend in the river, and the sight head made Sam’s heart stop cold. Ahead lay an area of frothy water that spanned the entire width of the river, from bank to bank, and was full of dangerously large rocks jutting out of the waves. They were headed for the rapids.

  “Hurry! If we don’t get them out of there, they’ll be killed on those rocks!” Sam yelled.

  The boat, fighting the current, inched its way closer to the three members of the team in the water. They had all seen what lay ahead. Two of the struggling men were swimming with all of their might, trying desperately to reach the safety of Sam’s boat. The third appeared barely able to stay afloat, though screaming desperately for help.

  Sam reached over the side of the boat, stretching her body out in an attempt to help one of the crewmembers out of the water and into the safety of the vessel. She was more than halfway out of the boat, grasping at the exhausted man’s arm, and would have fallen into the river, herself, if Monica hadn’t grabbed her around the waist and held her in place as she heaved Jorge over the side. The rapids and jagged rocks drew nearer.

  “Hurry!”

  The second person to reach Sam’s boat was Anselmo, who was clearly drained and, therefore, unable to climb into the boat using his own power. Daniel grasped him by the arm and pulled him halfway out of the water, causing the boat to dip heavily to one side. In a state of panic, Daniel unintentionally released Anselmo’s arm, causing him to drop back into the churning river and out of sight.

  “No!” Sam screamed, jumping into the water after him. Sam dove under the waves, searching frantically for Anselmo through a cascade of bubbles caused by the churning water. She pulled her body through the river using long strokes, scanning for any sign of the boat pilot. There was no trace of him. She kicked, turning at a right angle and looked into the deeper water.

  Karachi, a species of native Peruvian fish, darted past her, their sleek, muscular bodies cutting through the water with ease. Sam was beginning to tire, having been under the water for nearly two minutes searching for Anselmo and fighting the currents. Her lungs burned as she drained the last bits of oxygen from them. A long, dark figure appeared
in her peripheral vision. Sam spun in the water. Her eyes met Anselmo’s which were wide with fear. Sam kicked with her remaining strength, scooped him under his armpit and pushed toward the surface. The pair broke through to daylight, Sam gulping air as they breached the water.

  “Grab his arm!” Sam screamed. Monica and Jorge grabbed Anselmo’s limp body and hauled him into the boat like he was the catch of the day. Sam grasped the side of the boat, which was now sitting dangerously low due to the added weight of two additional people. She scanned the water, looking for Rodrigo. She could no longer see him, but she could faintly hear him calling for help near the side of the other capsized boat that had drifted only a few yards from the rapids.

  Sam took a deep breath and was about to push off the boat when several arms, grabbing her and pulling her upward, yanked her out of the water. She tumbled helplessly back into the boat. Sam then realized that she no longer heard Rodrigo at all. Struggling to her knees, she glanced out and saw the now shattered remains of the second boat drifting down river. A few moments later, a badly beaten body floated up to the surface of the water—face down.

  “Sam, are you okay?”

  Still foggy from the dive into the cold water and the shock of seeing Rodrigo’s dead body, Sam didn’t respond. Her mind was in a cloud, and she felt numb. She stared blankly at her hands, which felt as if they belonged to someone else. Finally, reality began to seep slowly back into her shock-addled mind.

  “Sam, you’re scaring us! Are you alright?”