No Such Thing As Werewolves

by Chris Fox

  The dense script contained thousands of symbols. That would make deciphering their alphabet impossible. Blair couldn’t even hope for a Rosetta stone. Modern societies shared no common language with a culture this old. No wonder Steve was baffled. Blair opened his recent calls and tapped Bridget’s name. The first ring hadn’t even finished when she picked up.

  “How soon can you be here?” she purred.

  “I can’t just walk out on my job, Bridget. I have rent,” he replied.

  “If that’s the hang-up, I think we can reach an agreement. How does a hundred and fifty thousand dollars for eight weeks of work sound?” She said. He could practically hear the smile.

  “That kind of money is too good to be true. Way too good,” he replied, but he’d already made his choice. Sometimes, you walked into the trap even though you knew it was there.

  “I know, but it’s true. If you’re in, I can have the funds wired as soon as you sign your NDA and contract,” she said. “We’ll even arrange for a call from the president of Peru to arrange a leave of absence. So what do you say?”

  “If you’re on the level? I’d say I’m in,” he replied, turning the car back on. This was going to be the most memorable mistake he’d ever made.

  Chapter 3- Runaway Bride

  Liz’s hand shook as she tamped out the cigarette in the chipped ashtray. She stood up, eyeing the phone on the table like a black widow that might attack at any moment. The bamboo floor creaked as she paced the short length of the drafty cottage, threatening to give way beneath her at any moment.

  Why was she so afraid? Trevor was her brother. He’d never judged her. Quite the opposite. He’d always been supportive. Maybe she was just afraid of disappointing him. He’d always thought so highly of her, and she was about to cop to the most chicken-shit thing she had ever done.

  She darted over to the table, seizing the phone and swiping the screen. A moment later, the phone was ringing as it clicked past Peru’s local network and winged its way all the way to sunny San Diego. Trevor picked up on the first ring.

  “Yeah?” he said, distracted. She could hear fingers flying across a keyboard.

  “Trevor, it’s Liz,” She replied.

  There was a pause. “Wow. Ok. Hold on a sec, Liz. I’ll be right back.”

  Sound ceased. She’d been put on mute. She waited, almost as terrified about him coming back as she was about the fact that he might not.

  “I’m back. I just had to tell David to watch something for me. We’ve discovered a solar flare—a big one. Maybe the biggest anyone’s seen in our lifetime,” Trevor said, reverting to the excited kid Liz had grown up with. He was always dreaming.

  “That’s awesome, Trevor. Tell David I said hey,” she said, relieved to talk about another topic, any other topic.

  “I will,” he said. His tone was different now, more somber. Uh oh. Here came serious Trevor. “Liz, you know Ernesto’s been calling me, right? Like six times a day. The guy’s in a complete panic. He thinks you’ve been kidnapped. Where are you?”

  “I’m in Peru. I left him a note,” Liz said, maybe more defensively than she’d intended.

  “A note? Liz, it says ‘I can’t do this.’ That’s it. Not even goodbye or a signature. He’s not even sure it’s your handwriting.”

  “Yeah, I know it was shitty,” Liz said, walking to the window. She opened the shutters, staring out at the muddy road leading up the mountain. It was going to rain again soon.

  “Don’t you think he deserves at least a phone call?” Trevor asked. The question was harsh, but the tone sympathetic.

  “Yes, but I can’t, Trev. He’ll push me and push me until I tell him where I am, then he’ll fly down here,” she explained, horrified because she knew it was true. “I can’t deal with him. It’s like kicking a puppy, Trev. He’s a great guy, but I needed to get out of there. To breathe.”

  “To breathe? Liz, you flew all the way to Peru. You could breathe in California. Mom and Dad would be happy to see you. You flew down there for that woo-woo bullshit, didn’t you?”

  “It’s not bullshit, Trevor. Shamans have used Ayahuasca for millennia to help people. It’s a psychological aide. Besides, the village needs someone to run the clinic. I—”

  “Liz, I get it. I really do. This is important to you, and clearly Ernesto isn’t the one,” Trevor said. That floored her. She thought he’d liked Ernesto. “The thing is, you can’t just let him twist like this. He’s got to get closure. You owe him that.”

  She knew he was right. It was the fair thing to do. “I’ll tell you what. I will write him a real letter. When he calls you next, tell him that.”

  “Will you actually write it?”

  She hesitated. How important was this? Could she make it a priority, or was she going to agree only to let herself and her brother down?

  “I’ll do it today. I promise, Trevor,” she said, the words as close to a vow as she was willing to make.

  “Awesome. Liz, listen I gotta go. What we’ve discovered is big. I have to get my report ready for the dean. Call me in a few days?”

  “Yeah, I’ll do that. Thanks, bro,” she said, smiling. She hung up, turning back to the window.

  She’d been dreading that call for days, putting it off as if doing so would make it easier. Calling had only gotten harder as her awkward silence had stretched. But in the end, she’d laid the issue to rest with a single phone call and an hour with a pen. She could finally move on.

  Liz turned back to the desk in the corner, fully intending to sit down that instant. She hesitated as a shrill horn shattered the sleepy morning. She peered out the window, gawking as a trio of mottled green jeeps rumbled into view. They didn’t look like the Peruvian National Police, but the black-clad men inside each vehicle carried what appeared to be assault rifles.

  That would have been unusual in the US. Here, it was unheard of. There was nothing resembling an organized military force in the area—not that she knew of, anyway.

  The trio of jeeps rumbled past the clinic. As the third one passed, she spotted a pair that stood out almost as badly as she had at her prom: A man and a woman, late twenties, maybe early thirties. He was handsome, with wind-tousled hair and a pair of wire-frame glasses. She was on the shorter side, even sitting down. A stunning brunette with wavy hair. Both Americans, Liz was sure of it.

  Liz opened the door and stepped onto the porch. She shaded her eyes, studying the cloud of dust as the caravan made its way up the narrow path the locals insisted was a road. There was nothing up there, just barren mountain peaks and a village even smaller than this one. So where the hell were they going?

  Chapter 4- Memories

  Blair seized the leather seat ahead of him as the jeep bounced up a narrow trail that no sane person would call a road. They were in the last vehicle in the caravan, which helped lessen the terror. He could see the two jeeps ahead making the same trek, and the logical part of his mind said that if they made it, then he would too. At least he wasn’t driving.

  That fell to the beefy soldier with the Russian accent. Yuri, he’d introduced himself as. His silver sunglasses made him look like some emotionless android, the pistol strapped to his thigh making it very clear that he was the threat in most situations. Blair had never seen anyone like him anywhere near a dig. People like that with equipment like this were expensive. Nobody spent that on science. Nobody.

  “Towns like this are so small they don’t even have names,” Bridget said, resting a hand on his forearm to get his attention. He resisted the urge to pull away. Blair would be damned if he was going to let her know how much she still affected him. “They might have a car that the whole village uses, or a few motorcars.”

  “They’re farmers,” he said, realizing it as he spoke the words. Fields of corn covered most of the ground where the few buildings did not. The stalks were shorter than the ones back home. “All the way up here. I can’t even imagine how much work that must be at this altitude.”

  “It’s amazin
g what they get by with.” Bridget gave him a warm smile. She hadn’t removed her hand. “They’re extremely self-sufficient. In fact, they export food into Cajamarca. They live below the poverty line, but the whole community helps ensure no one goes hungry. It’s remarkable.”

  A flock of sun-darkened children sprinted alongside the vehicles, laughing. They waved enthusiastically, one boy with a crooked smile meeting Blair’s gaze. He found himself waving back, smiling in spite of himself. He really did have a lot of be grateful for, not the least of which was the massive deposit that had shown up in his bank account the night before. He’d paid off twelve thousand dollars in credit card debt this morning, finally freeing himself from years of not quite making ends meet.

  “How much further to the site?” Blair asked. He didn’t want to admit it, but the three-hour trek from Cajamarca had been devastating to his back. If he never saw another road like this, it would be too soon.

  “About a half hour to base camp,” Bridget answered, finally removing her hand. She gave a softer smile, a child who’d gotten away with something. “The jeeps will stop at the camp. Then we need to hike down into the ravine where the pyramid was discovered.”

  “That’s not too far from this village,” Blair said, pointing up at the ramshackle structures perched even higher up the hillside, “or the smaller one I can see up that way.” The place was about half the size of the village they’d just driven through. “How do these people not already know about the pyramid? I can’t imagine word not leaking out if it’s as large as the pictures indicate. Everyone should know about it.”

  “Steve made me promise not to tell you specifics. He wants to see if you can determine why this place was never discovered until now,” Bridget said. Her smile becoming more of a smirk. She’d always known exactly how to play to his ego, that he wasn’t going to let Steve show him up yet again.

  “Ok, keep your secrets for now. I guess I’ll just have to figure it out for myself,” Blair replied, shifting his gaze out the window. The foliage had thinned as they gained elevation, but stunted trees still dotted the roadside. Like the corn, they were smaller than they would have been near sea level. Flocks of bright-green parrots perched in many of them, as numerous as the pigeons back in the states. That, too, surprised him. He’d expected them near Cajamarca, but he didn’t think they’d be tenacious enough to live up here.

  The sky was an unrelieved grey. Those clouds almost felt close enough to touch, which made sense. He’d bet the high peaks of the Andes trapped them in the same way the Sierras did back in California. Unwilling to glance at Bridget, he stretched the silence as he studied the terrain.

  “Blair,” Bridget finally said, dropping her gaze as he turned to face her. “Listen, I know it isn’t fair asking you to help Steve. I know how you feel about him and his role in how things…ended. But I didn’t know who else to turn to. I’m scared. You’ve always been so dependable—”

  “Dependable? Seriously?” Blair snorted, breaking into laugher. It felt good. He wiped a trickle of sweat from his forehead. “I can’t believe you led with the reliable friend card. You’re a shitty salesman, Bridget. Steve was my friend way before I introduced the two of you, and while he might be the world’s biggest ass, he’s also brilliant. He’s contributed a lot to our understanding of Mayan culture, and he might do even more at this site. I want to be a part of it because I think you’re right when you say we’re about to make history. That’s why I came. Not for you, and certainly not for him. So drop the whole remorseful ex thing. You’ve got more class than that.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t realize how bad that sounded until the words were out. I know you didn’t come for me. I’m sorry,” she said. Her shoulders slumped and hair screened her face. It was possible she even meant it.

  “Don’t apologize. I don’t want to hear it. If this is going to work, it needs to be strictly professional. Why don’t we start with you telling me what the hell is going on? How about some details instead of cryptic hints? What’s wrong with Steve?” he asked, dropping his voice as he glanced at the soldiers in the front seat. Neither seemed aware of them.

  “I’ll start at the beginning,” she began, finally meeting his gaze as the jeep labored up a particularly steep incline. Blair’s stomach lurched, but he stubbornly ignored it. “We were approached by the Peruvian government. They sought out Steve because of his work at Tikal and Norte Chico. They figured he was the best qualified to lead a team and gave him a blank check. We were told we could bring whoever we wanted as long as we got them here within three days.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “Just under a month,” Bridget admitted, eyeing him sidelong from under the protective screen of hair.

  “You waited a month to bring me in?” Blair asked, suppressing the surge of heat in his gut.

  “Steve wasn’t willing, at least at first,” Bridget said. Finally, she looked directly at him. “He still respects you, but he doesn’t think very highly of your current career path. He wasn’t sure we’d need you.”

  “So he thinks I’ve lost my edge. What changed his mind?” Blair asked, eyes narrowing.

  “I did,” Bridget replied. She waved her hand to dispel some of the dust wafting through the window. “I reminded him that the three of us worked better together, that you think of things everyone else misses. Steve is stubborn, but when he realized he wasn’t ever going to be able to open the room in the central chamber, he finally admitted he needed your help.”

  “Central chamber?” Blair asked, straightening in his seat. “What have you found in there? Is there writing, or is it purely utilitarian like the Great Pyramid at Giza?”

  “There are symbols everywhere, Blair. The kind left by an advanced culture, one that knew more than anything in the ancient world, despite predating it by millennia. Hell, they may even know more than we do. We don’t know why they disappeared, much less what they knew at the height of their culture. All that remains is this one structure,” She said, eyes shining with the same wonder she’d had whenever they’d discovered something. It drove a knife through his innards. Damn. He missed this part of her.

  “On the phone, you said Steve was acting strangely,” Blair said, shifting the topic. He couldn’t handle the old Bridget, not right now. He needed to focus on business. Stay professional.

  “I’m getting there. We spent several days exploring the outer structure before we descended to the central chamber. Like you pointed out, the pyramids at Giza are completely barren on the inside, no writing of any kind. This one couldn’t be more different. Every wall is covered in elaborate hieroglyphs like nothing we’ve ever seen. They’re more Egyptian than Mayan but don’t really belong to either. Steve thinks this is the history of their entire culture. Though, of course, we can’t be sure until we translate it. If his theory is correct, we may have just found the parent culture that could have given rise to legends of Atlantis. They could have inspired the Egyptians, or might be responsible for Angkor Wat.”

  “He may be right, at least about this being a record. If the glyphs from the pictures you sent cover the interior, we could be looking at centuries of their recorded history,” Blair agreed, grabbing the seat again as the jeep lurched over a rock that would have broken the axle on his Ford. “It’s too soon to theorize about them being a parent culture though. This isn’t the X-Files, Bridget. I seriously doubt aliens are behind this…any more than they are the construction of the Egyptian pyramids.”

  “You’re only saying it because you haven’t seen it,” she teased, shooting him a wink. “This place is going to blow your mind.”

  “I’m sure it will,” he said, still off balance, and from more than the bouncy ride. How was it that she could still affect him like this? Anger and sadness boiled up, but he pushed the awful mix right back down into his stomach. Stay. Professional. “You were telling me about Steve.”

  “Sorry. I got distracted. Anyway, Steve became convinced the key to unders
tanding it all lay in the central chamber,” Bridget continued, the leather seat creaking as she shifted. “He started spending entire days down there, hours and hours. That’s when I first noticed the strange behavior. Steve has always been very…attentive. But he started ignoring me. Unless I went down to that chamber, I didn’t see him at all. Even then, he barely even looked at me.”

  “You didn’t consider that he might just be excited about a monumental discovery?” Blair asked. Was she that narcissistic? He remembered her being better than that.

  “It’s more than that, Blair. I know it sounds like I’m overreacting, but I promise you, I’m not,” she protested. Her gaze rose to meet his as her mouth tightened. “He was excited, sure. Especially in the beginning. Who wouldn’t be? But he barely eats or sleeps. Or bathes. All he’s done for weeks is work. His mood has deteriorated to the point that he snaps at anyone who interrupts him. That isn’t like Steve and you know it. I’ve seen him driven, but this? It’s obsession on a level I can’t even begin to understand. I know this is going to sound odd, but it feels…unnatural…like he’s a drug addict or something.”

  “Unnatural? Bridget, I don’t understand the problem or what you think I can do about it. Steve and I aren’t exactly on good terms, and even if we were, what do you want me to do? Offer therapy?”

  “You’re taking this lightly, but you haven’t seen him. You’ll understand when we get there,” she said, face going pale. She crossed her arms over her chest, huddling down into her seat as she stared out the window.

  Chapter 5- Arrival

  “Holy mother of God,” Blair wheezed. It was the only appropriate reaction when confronted with, well this, regardless of his lack of religious beliefs. The structure dominating the valley below was otherworldly, a stately matron next to the uncouth mountain peaks that flanked it. The pictures had failed to capture the majesty, the foreboding. This place had been the center point for an entire civilization. He was certain of it. It was a focal point that must have taken generations to construct.