Nazca: A Nick Randall Short Story

by Robert Rapoza

  If he was right and someone had taken the team, then there had to be signs of a struggle, and possibly a trail that might lead him to them. He ran to the motor pool, realizing he could cover more ground by jeep than by foot. Passing the mess hall, he turned the corner, catching site of the jeeps. They were covered with a layer of dirt, but he could see their outlines in the distance. His legs pumped in mad fashion as he sprinted to them.

  He pulled up next to the first jeep and his heart sank. The tires were cut. He checked the spare, but the attackers had slashed it as well. Undeterred, he ran to the next vehicle, finding it in the same condition. Even if he could get a jeep running, he wouldn’t make it far with flat tires. Nick kicked the useless hunk of metal, cursing the kidnappers. A sudden ray of light burst through the gathering doom. Liam’s bike! An avid motorcyclist, the professor had brought his motor bike to the site.

  Once again Nick ran as fast as his legs could carry him, heading straight for the work station. This time, instead of going inside, he headed to the back of the structure, to a steel storage container. The unit was the kind used by stevedoring companies to transport freight on the high seas. Nick fumbled in his pocket for his keys, removing them and searching for the one that would open the lock. Liam had entrusted Nick with a spare copy. When he had eyed the motorcycle, the professor had kindly agreed to teach Nick how to ride.

  Nick popped the lock and heaved the heavy metal door open as it squeaked on its rusty hinges. A beautiful sight met his eyes. The motorcycle was still there and in one piece.

  ***

  Nick raced across the desert sand, his eyes protected from the flying dust by the riding googles he had found in the shed. The bike was a thing of beauty, a restored 1952 Indian Chief with a 1,300 cc engine, its bright red paint job reflecting the sun. The motorcycle was Liam’s baby. He rarely took it out for a ride, and when he did he immediately cleaned and placed it back into storage. Once, after helping the professor clean the bike, Nick had asked why he had brought such a beautiful machine on a dig. He had never forgotten Liam’s response. With a wistful expression, the professor explained that it had been a gift from Meredith, and since her passing, he took the machine with him everywhere.

  Nick felt a twinge of guilt for abusing the Chief in the harsh desert conditions, but he had little choice. He had been riding for nearly an hour, making a loop around the camp without any sign of his missing friends. His luck abruptly changed. A quarter mile from camp, in the direction the plane had taken on the aerial survey, Nick found footprints, lots of them, in different shapes and sizes. Most were clearly left by work boots, but some matched the prints he had found in the work station. The team had recently been there…with their abductors.

  Nick followed the trail, a new sense of hope in his heart that his friends were alive. The path led into the desert and came to a familiar place in the flat earth. Although he couldn’t see the design from the ground, Nick felt certain the team had been marched out to the spider shaped Nazca Lines he had seen only hours earlier. He dismounted the motorcycle and began following the tracks on foot until they abruptly ended.

  In a panic, he retraced his steps, sure he had somehow missed something. He hadn’t. The footsteps just ended with no sign of where his friends had gone.

  Defeated, Nick plopped down on the sand, unsure of what to do next. Finding the footsteps had given him hope, but it had turned out to be a dead end. He could ride the motorcycle back to camp, fill up the tank, and get to the nearest town to find help, but that would take hours. Besides, would the authorities even believe that an entire team of archaeologists had simply disappeared into thin air?

  Nick considered the situation for several minutes, searching for a pattern in the events leading to the disappearance. The team had found the spider idol the previous day. This morning it had disappeared. After his flight with Liam, he found it by the generator. Then it had disappeared again, someone taking it while he was unconscious. Next, he found the tracks leading to the spider image in the desert, but they had just ended with no further sign of where his team might be. The common factor seemed to be the arachnid, but he couldn’t grasp its significance. Nick searched his memory for information about the Nazca Lines, trying to find the answer. Like a searchlight cutting through the darkness, a possible solution came to him.

  One of the primary theories argued that the Nazca lines were used in religious ceremonies. The natives traversed the sacred shapes, carrying candles and other artifacts, asking the gods for assistance. Could that be it? Nick contemplated the idea when another notion struck. The spider idol had appeared perfect except for the incomplete red line around its abdomen. Why would an artisan take painstaking care to craft such a beautiful object and not finish a simple line? Perhaps it wasn’t incomplete. Maybe it represented something else. A path!

  With newfound enthusiasm, Nick began walking along the border of the spider glyph, starting at the spot where the footprints disappeared. He remembered from his research that the shape measured 47 meters long, so tracing the outline of the figure wouldn’t take much time. If it didn’t work, he could still head back to camp and go for help.

  The setting sun announced that twilight would soon arrive. Nick focused on the shape as he walked, searching for clues that might appear as he circumnavigated the spider. There had to be something that would explain why the footsteps simply ended, and he was determined to find the answer. Although the shape wasn’t terribly big, the frequent turns and doubling back while traversing the spider’s various appendages made the walk much longer.

  Sweat dripped down Nick’s shirt as he nervously strummed his fingers on his legs, worried about his friends. The sun continued its slow decline toward the horizon, the bottom now tucked away beneath the edge of the earth. Nick found himself quickly running out of daylight and he was only half way through the shape. He picked up the pace, starting to jog, scanning the shape for signs of what had happened to his friends.

  The sun had nearly dipped below the horizon when Nick rounded the final turn in what would be the abdomen of the creature. Finding himself almost back to where he started, there was still no sign of his team. He cursed under his breath for having wasted so much time, when he could have driven back to the camp and had been well on his way to finding help. Now he would have to make the trip back in the dark.

  Just as he contemplated stepping off of the path, a slight movement on the ground caught his attention. He froze, staring at the spot where he thought he had seen the ground begin to drop. Nothing. He must have imagined it. He shook his head, muttering under his breath as he continued walking. It happened again. A small point on the inner side of the spider figure began to sink slowly into the earth. At first, the depression was hardly noticeable but as he continued walking, it became larger until Nick spotted an opening.

  Cautiously approaching the depressed section of earth, Nick realized the opening was directly where the steps had vanished. He squatted and peered into the hole, but it was too dark to see inside. He removed a flashlight from his pocket, shining the beam into the darkness. The opening fed into steps which led to an underground passageway. Realizing he could just fit through the hole, Nick decided he had come too far to turn back now.

  ***

  Nick slipped through the opening and rolled down the steps, tumbling to the first landing until he came to a stop on a flat pad of interlocked stones. Standing and cleaning himself off, he shined his light downward, realizing that there were several other landings on a long, stone staircase heading far beneath the surface.

  The air smelled like dirty socks and old newspapers, but Nick ignored the mustiness and hustled downward. He approached the bottom of the chamber, discovering a tunnel that fed deeper into the complex. He heard a low rhythmic sound emanating from the passageway. The ceiling of the tunnel was five feet from the ground, so Nick walked in a hunched position. He shielded his light as he walked so he could see ahead while keeping the beam from leaking too far forward.

&nb
sp; The sound became louder now, letting him know he was getting closer to the source. He reached an apparent dead-end, only to discover a corner that turned to the right at nearly ninety degrees. He craned his neck to see around the corner, the sound became substantially louder, but he still couldn’t locate the source. Hugging the wall, he made the turn and resumed walking.

  A piercing scream came from the direction of the humming, nearly causing Nick to drop his light. He began running toward the sound. The tunnel ahead grew brighter. Nick turned off his beam, no longer needing the extra light. As he reached the entrance, he slowed, hugging the wall once again, and peered out into the main cavern.

  He immediately spotted the source of the screaming. It was Holly. She was strapped to a stone altar, the spider idol lying near her head. She writhed in protest against the restraints holding her down, while a large group of natives chanted in unison. Nick shifted his position, leaning away from the wall. He caught a glimpse of the rest of the team members locked in a cell, guarded by several burly locals. He now realized that his team had stumbled upon a hidden civilization, who were clearly upset at being disturbed.

  Holly’s screaming pulled his attention back to the stone slab and Nick tried to discern the cause of her shrieks. He quickly understood her concern. A monstrous black spider with blood red eyes reached for her, its hind legs shackled to the ground. The creature stood four feet tall and twice as long. Its huge head swayed rhythmically to the sound of the chanting and it looked longingly at the live meal brought to its table. Native men holding spears stood near the ropes, restraining the creature, prepared to release it from its binds at the right moment.

  Nick’s mind raced. He scanned the room searching for a way to free his friends. He noticed a balcony hanging from the ceiling above and behind the shackled spider. It appeared to contain the royalty of the tribe, filled with people dressed in colorful garb and long flowing robes. Their appearance was strikingly different from the drab, simple hides and cloth worn by the rest of the tribe members.

  Lanterns affixed to the wall lit the room. Large containers mounted above them provided gravity fed fuel through tubes. There were a total of six lanterns in the room, three on each wall, evenly spaced throughout the area. In the center of the room were the tribespeople, chanting and swaying in unison, keeping the beast in a trancelike state until it was time to be released. Nick estimated there were fifty to sixty people in the group.

  The cell holding his friends sat against the far wall, offset from the sacrificial altar by about twenty feet. The cage was made of thick, wooden poles that were inset into the floor and ceiling. It looked solid. A single gate served as the only opening into the cell and it too looked sturdy, unlikely to give way against even the weight of a small army.

  As Nick studied the room, he sensed a presence behind him. He spun and found himself face to face with the head of a huge spider. Nick stumbled backward into the wall, fumbling for his light. He switched it on, shining it into the creature’s eyes, causing it to turn away. Nick was startled when two human hands appeared and covered the spider’s eyes. He traced his light downward from the spider’s head and soon realized the creature wasn’t a spider, but a man wearing a spider’s head.

  Nick wasted no time, driving the man back into the wall, catching him at the base of the spider mask. The native’s head snapped against the stony wall and Nick heard a sickening crack and the man’s body slumped to the floor.

  His heart racing, Nick steadied himself. The chanting in the adjacent room continued at a slower pace, accompanied by a rhythmic drum beat, slowly building to a crescendo. Joining the chorus were Holly’s muffled pleads for help. The tribe had failed to hear the scuffle, but Nick had to hurry if he was going to save Holly. He deduced that the man he had knocked unconscious was a spiritual leader, or shaman, who played a critical role in the ancient ritual he had stumbled upon. His best chance was to assume the man’s role and free his friends before the natives realized what had happened.

  He swapped clothes with the unconscious shaman, then gingerly removed the spider headpiece and donned it himself. Noticing a long staff on the floor next to the man, Nick grabbed it. It had a three-inch-long, multifaceted gemstone at one end. The stone, which glimmered in the light, served as the tip of the staff. Nick touched the top of the stone to see if it was sharp. He was rewarded with a cut on the top of his finger. He swore in anger at the pain, shaking his finger, which ran red with blood. The sharpened gemstone was a spearhead.

  Nick straightened the spider mask and walked into the main cavern, catching the attention of the elders seated above the giant spider. One of them nodded to him. Nick bowed back. Almost in unison, the tribespeople turned to face their religious leader. The young archaeologist suddenly felt the weight of a hundred eyes studying his every move. He walked in a slow deliberate manner until he reached the cell holding his friends. He lowered the tip of his staff, pointing it at the door and making a sliding movement to indicate opening the cell.

  The guard watched in confusion, then looked up at the leaders perched above the spider. They conferred for a moment and then nodded, letting him know to follow the order of the shaman. The guard complied, opening the cell door, then bowed to Nick in reverence.

  So far so good.

  Nick motioned to the captors to exit the cell. Liam and Ben looked at each other, brows furrowed. Ben exited first, motioning for the others to follow. With the entire group out of the cell, the false religious leader pointed his staff at Ben and then to the ground. Comprehending the message, Ben knelt, at which time the entire team followed suit.

  Nick continued his march forward, finally arriving by the stone altar. Holly recoiled as he drew near.

  “Get away from me!” Holly yelled.

  Nick lowered his staff, pointing the tip directly at Holly’s throat. The crowd murmured in anticipation. The guards near the spider’s shackles tensed, ready to release the creature to feast upon the young sacrifice.

  Loud yelling appeared from the back of the room, causing everyone to shift their attention. The real shaman had awoken. Holding the back of his head and screaming in his native dialect, he pointed an accusatory finger at Nick. The guard nearest Nick turned to face him, clearly confused. Nick wasted no time: he cut the ropes holding Holly’s arms with the gemstone.

  He moved quickly, cutting her right foot free as well, but then felt two heavy hands drop onto his shoulders before he could free Holly’s other foot. The first guard holding the spider had run over to him, intent on stopping his plan. In his haste, the guard had released the shackles holding the right side of the giant spider, which awoke from its trance when the natives stopped their chanting. Now fully conscious, the creature thrashed wildly, mashing its huge fangs together.

  The second guard holding the spider struggled in vain to contain the beast, which ripped free of its bonds, and descended upon Nick and the first guard. Nick ducked under the altar, leaving the native directly in the path of the ravaging beast, which set upon the man with savage ferocity. The creature sank its fangs into the guard who screamed in pain as the spider feasted on his head and shoulder.

  The natives in the room screamed in horror, trampling each other, trying to escape from the monster. Holly, still tied by her left foot, shrieked in terror as the giant spider ravaged the guard. She tugged at the rope still holding her foot, trying desperately to pull herself free. The giant spider finished its first meal, then turned its monstrous head to Holly.

  Nick popped up on the opposite side of the altar, still grasping the staff. The spider headpiece had fallen off, now everyone could now see his face. He climbed on top of the stone table, placing himself directly between the spider and Holly, who stared at him, brows furrowed.

  “Nick?”

  Nick lashed out at the beast, stabbing at it with the gemstone. The spider reared in anger, its bloodlust driving it to madness. The creature attacked him ferociously, swatting at the staff with its long, thick front legs. Nick braced h
imself against the onslaught, realizing only he stood between life and death for Holly. The spider attacked again, hissing at his nemesis, clear liquid flowing from its fangs. Nick stabbed the creature, landing a direct hit to the side of its head, the gemstone embedding in its carapace.

  The spider recoiled in pain, snapping off the head of the staff. It flailed its legs wildly, knocking Nick onto the altar. He banged his head sharply on the stony surface.

  “Nick, we have Holly!” Liam called out from the side.

  The young archaeologist glanced over see Holly, standing by Liam whose face suddenly drained of all color.

  “Look out!” Liam yelled.

  Nick spun just in time to see the huge creature descending on him, its fangs pounding together. Nick raised the remaining piece of the staff, holding it between his hands like a chin up bar. The monster clamped down on the staff, its jaws wrapping around the stick. With a single jerk of its head, it wrenched the staff from Nick’s hands, tossing it aside.

  The creature reared its head, ready to deal Nick a death blow when it suddenly turned and scrambled from the altar. Nick lifted his head to see Ben holding a spear, jabbing the creature’s backside, leading it away from him. Nick hopped off of the altar, grabbing a spear left by a guard. Running over to one of the wall lamps, he sliced open the tube feeding fuel oil to the lantern. The viscous fluid drained from the tube and began to puddle on the floor.

  Natives continued to scramble around the chamber as their leaders watched from their perch, screaming orders to their guards. The tribespeople ignored them, fearing for their own lives, while the giant spider moved about freely. The monster fixated on Ben, who kept it at bay using the spear. Nick stared at the elders when a realization struck.

  “Dr. Samuelson, lead it under the balcony!” Nick yelled to his mentor, who nodded in understanding.

  Ben maneuvered around the altar, bringing the giant spider under the elevated platform. Standing near one of the cables supporting the balcony, Nick waited until Ben was clear of the platform, then hacked the rope with the spear. The balcony shifted, its right side drooping several feet under the unsupported weight. Several of the elders tumbled from their perch, but the platform remained elevated, dangling above the monster.