Ajay let out a huff and walked off, to which Cutter grinned. That slight grin he felt on his face faded when Dr. Martinez flashed him a disapproving frown. She had been standing beside Moray. She looked pissed.
“Oh?” Cutter asked, raising an eyebrow. “So you’re speaking with me again?” While a small part of him hoped she was about to say something—anything—he knew it was ridiculous to feel the way he did right now, but he did, and couldn’t help himself. Biology was making an ascendance and taking over. While her hair was a mess, and she was dripping with sweat, and she seemed both tired and upset—she was still just so damn hot. And for some inexplicable reason, he was suddenly horny.
“Mr. Cutter,” Moray said, breaking the temporary spell. “It is obvious that the coordinates we were given were incorrect, or may I say, imprecise. I propose we break into two-person teams and explore the general area for any signs that might lead us to—”
“Propose…?” Cutter asked. “Is that a direct order? What if we find nothing?”
Moray stared at him for a long, cold, handful of seconds. Any semblance of camaraderie was gone. “You work for me, Mr. Cutter. That means you take your orders from me. If I say we stay, we stay. If I say we search, we search,” he stated through clenched teeth. “But…if by tomorrow at dusk we find nothing concrete that points us toward the ruins, then I’ll make the call.”
“Will they come if we’ve found nothing?” Cutter asked.
This time, Moray shook his head. “That is a possibility. So we’d best find some proof that the city once existed. And all these skeletons, while certainly interesting, do not indicate that a city once existed here. Understand?”
“Perfectly,” Cutter said. Again, he had no choice. But maybe he had. He eyed Moray for a few more seconds wondering if he could force the man to make the call. He probably could, but that might make things worse. Even though he was in pain and wanted the hell out of there, he could play Moray’s game a little longer.
But not too much longer.
Cutter divided everyone up into teams of two—Gauge and Morgan, Moray and Ajay. That left him with Reyna. If their guide ever returned—which was doubtful—the little man with the Moe haircut could join Moray. Cutter figured the little guy was long gone by now.
After giving the straps on his pack a slight tug to cinch them down, he and Reyna started off to the south, walking together side by side in silence as he stepped lightly to reduce the pain of each footfall. While he’d been driven a bit hormonal by the sight of her and wanted a little alone time with her, he was still just tired, hurting, and a bit pissed at himself for not confronting Moray directly. Maybe that could have worked. He pictured himself holding a gun against the man’s head and demanding the guy make the call. He stewed on that thought while stepping over the dense growth at his feet.
Then, as he stepped heavily and felt a new pain shoot up his leg, he was suddenly surprised. Reyna must have been feeling something pent up inside of her as well. She spun him off his feet and pushed him hard up against a tree and kissed him on the lips.
The pack on Cutter’s back began to dig into his spine, and as he grew to accept what she was intending, he wriggled free of his pack and returned the kiss even harder.
They both began to strip clothes from one another until enough bare skin was exposed to make it all worthwhile. Even though they’d been together and intimate on numerous occasions, their interaction now was far more primitive—bordering on savage. Neither spoke. Neither had to.
Cutter tripped and fell backward. Something crunched when he landed. Whatever it had been that had broken, he was quickly reassured it hadn’t been one of his bones. Something was pressing up against his flesh. He couldn’t get away from it because Reyna was already attempting to mount him while he was still tangled up in his clothing.
She must have thought his discomfort and clumsiness was there to provide her more of a challenge. It wasn’t. Whatever was stabbing him in the back, hurt. Scrambling and bucking, he knocked her to one side and arched his back as he freed himself from the object poking against him. He rolled over onto his elbow.
“What the hell?” she said as she caught herself on her hands, now tangled up in her own clothing.
Pants around his knees, he attempted to stand and ended up falling onto his ass again, this time beside her. He winced as he brought the object that had stabbed him from behind his back.
In his hand was a crushed skull. More like half a skull. When he had grabbed it, his fingers had unknowingly threaded through the eye sockets. He tried to fling it away, but it became stuck on one finger and flopped sideways. He tried again, but it merely rotated on his finger.
As his momentary panic subsided, he held the fragment up to examine it closer.
There were fractures in the bone, as if something had smashed the skull hard enough to split it into two distinct pieces, making it look like a mask one could wear.
Reyna rolled away from him and scrambled to her feet, pulling her pants up and buttoning them.
Standing, he tossed the skull fragment aside and zipped up his pants.
“Goddammit, Jack.”
“I know,” he breathed, head going back and forth. “I’m still willing if you are.”
She just stared at him blankly.
He shrugged.
Then he froze solid. His head cocked to one side.
Off in the distance, about a hundred yards away, was something that didn’t seem to belong. The shape was not curved and organic. It almost appeared man-made.
“What’s that?” he asked.
Reyna looked over her shoulder at it for a moment, then slowly turned all the way around and picked up her pack. Wordlessly, she slung it over her shoulder and walked toward the mysterious object they’d both seen. He hurried to follow her while trying to adjust the misalignment of his disheveled clothing and stepping carefully to avoid the pain coming from his aching feet.
- 28 -
VALLEY OF SHADOWS
A distant birdcall pierced the muffled stillness that had fallen like a damp blanket over the jungle. Not more than a half-second ago, it was as if the entire forest of sky-seeking trees and overhanging growth surrounding Cutter had gone deathly silent. That single birdcall led to a cascading wall of fresh new sounds which collapsed on him like a roaring ocean wave breaking against the rocks. He stood there, unmoving, in shock and awe of what he saw spread out before him.
He wasn’t alone in his stunned reaction.
“Whoa,” was all he could say, in a tone of reverence and wonder. Sweat dribbled into his eyes, but he hardly noticed. He blinked twice, and yet the image remained.
Anton Moray said nothing as he stepped past him and made his way to the far edge of a weather-worn stone ledge, which put the man about twenty feet ahead of Cutter and below him in height. The man stopped a hair short and perched on the edge of the world. One more inch forward, and Moray would have disappeared forever. Just past him, Cutter witnessed the enormity of it all and repeated what he had said earlier, “Whoa.”
What he saw was—mind-blowing.
To think, he realized, just a few moments ago, the entrance to the hidden valley had looked like two rather ordinary square cubes of stone, pitted and marred by years of erosion and mottled with green lichen. Simple. Unadorned. Inconspicuous. It was an entrance, nonetheless.
Just past the stones was a gateway arch that led to a tunnel, and through the tunnel was a precipice that overlooked a vast sea of stone structures.
A city.
A lost city.
The Lost City of Z.
Above the various structures was a drooping canopy that stretched into a distant haze. The canopy was intertwined with vines that blocked most of the light, leaving shafts of golden-yellow sunlight streaming in to fall on the gray and green structures far below. Just the weight of the canopy alone, across such a vast span—Cutter had to wonder—made it impossible for it to even exist. But, there it was. For real. Right in front of his f
ace.
“Whoa,” he said again as he looked to the farthest end of the valley spread out ahead of him. It was a span of a mile at least, maybe two from where he stood to the sheer cliff walls on the opposite side of the valley.
“Whoa is right,” Morgan added from beside him. She moved to join Moray, remaining a step behind him. She was joined by Reyna and Ajay. Cutter and Gauge remained behind, closer to the entrance than the precipice. Cutter looked over at the big man and noticed that Gauge’s bottom lip was drooping somewhat and his jaw had gone slack. Gauge kept a hand resting on the grip of his MP-5K, trigger finger outstretched, ready for anything.
Before returning his gaze to those who had passed by him, Cutter watched Gauge ignore his presence and lift and check his gun again before assembling with the others near the edge.
Drawing a deep breath, Cutter stepped forward to join them on the edge. “I…guess I was wrong about all this,” he said as he closed with them. “How could I have ever…?”
“Never mind all that, Mr. Cutter,” Moray replied. “We found it. We really and truly—found it.”
No one else spoke for several seconds while Cutter took in the enormity of it all. In the valley below, there were long, narrow rows of squat, square structures as far as the eye could see. Those collapsed buildings followed a network of straight-as-an-arrow roads to either side that widened into larger boulevards as they drew closer to the geographical center of the city. Most of the buildings were a single story tall and roofless, but the ones closest to the city’s centermost point were taller than the rest. In the very middle was a monument that looked unlike any other structure he had seen before. It appeared to be a shrine—or outdoor temple of some type. Inside the series of connecting arches that made up the temple, he spotted something shiny—something…golden?
“No one has ever been here before and seen this?” he asked. “How is that even possible?”
“I wouldn’t say, ‘no one,’ Mr. Cutter,” Moray responded.
Reyna glanced at Cutter as if he’d said something so stupid that even she couldn’t let it pass. “You just walked through a forest filled with skeletons and half-rotted corpses, Jack.”
A new chill ran down his spine.
“Yeah, but…” he said.
“Yeah, but,” she repeated, mocking him. “Just look, Jack. You are one of the few white people on the planet who has laid eyes on this city. How often do you get to witness something like this?”
“Hopefully, more than once,” he mumbled while glancing back over his shoulder at the stone archway that had led them all there, thinking of just how he’d located it. If it weren’t for the carnal desires he shared with Reyna, they might never have found it.
He checked his watch. They would have another six or seven hours of daylight. He checked the Glock on his hip and his MP-5K hanging by its strap. Both were loaded and ready for action. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he hoped those mere tools of steel, plastic, and lead would be enough of a deterrent for whatever might come next.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go get this done and get the hell out of here.”
- 29 -
DESCENT
Off to the right of the platform overlooking the massive city was a stone stairway carved into the rock face. It followed the wall of the cliff downward in a series of zig-zagging switchbacks. The individual treads of hewn rock appeared wide enough to travel two abreast, but there were many missing chunks of stone. It would require every bit of brainpower and dexterity Cutter could muster to safely navigate it. Which, at the moment, due to his continued shock and awe over what he’d seen, was not much.
They made it down about a hundred steps before Cutter had his first slip. Gauge was there to catch him by the upper arm and steady him. He patted the big man on the arm, promised to do better, and continued the trek downward, a bit more slowly. Since he and Gauge were leading the way, that gave the others a clear path to follow. Cutter glanced back at them all to make sure no one else would make the same misstep he had. They didn’t, so he continued downward, catching up to Gauge and walking side by side with the man, which with Gauge’s wide shoulders, put Cutter on the very edge of the stairway and sharp drop off to the valley floor below.
He didn’t know if it was the boyish excitement of finding the city, or that he was descending, but his feet were no longer bothering him. Each step seemed lighter than the last.
“Eyes wide open,” he whispered to Gauge, as if he needed to say it.
Gauge nodded back and made his way past another of the rounded pillars that appeared every time the switchback stairway changed directions. Whoever had carved the stone had been meticulous and highly advanced in their stonecutting techniques. There were no obvious tool marks that Cutter could make out, and the stairs had to have been over a thousand years old—or even older.
He stared skyward. The light filtering through the woven canopy above came down in bright shafts. Insects seemed to dance in the beams closest to him, and the occasional brightly colored bird swooped across the vast space underneath, landing in nests anchored in crevasses along the cliffs.
Cutter was still having difficulty taking in the enormity of it all.
Ahead, just before the stairway turned back on itself again, there was a crack in the sheer wall that had allowed a waterfall to form. The flow of water over the years had etched away the stone, making the stairs, at most, six inches wide for a span of about ten feet before returning to the wider, two-abreast stairs they had been on so far.
It didn’t appear there was an easy path past the gap. They’d also have to walk over damp stone. One wrong step and it would be a very unpleasant fall to the valley floor.
“I’ll go first,” Cutter said, knowing it was his place to do so. “Stay behind.”
“Wait,” Morgan replied as she squeezed between Moray and Ajay to stand before Cutter. She shrugged off her pack and dug inside it, coming back with a length of thin cord. “This stuff is tested to about a thousand pounds. It shouldn’t break—if you are careful.”
Cutter waved a hand to reject it. “That’s a bit thin, and I don’t plan on falling.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s not for you, Jack,” she said. “It’s for us. When you make it over there…” She reached inside the pack again and came out with a metal spike. “Use this…”
“Yeah, I got it,” he said. He grinned away his initial stupidity and stepped closer to receive the rope and aluminum piton from her. She added a reassuring smile that he would indeed make it to the other side without falling.
“Jack…” she said.
“What?”
“Please don’t die.”
“I’m not planning on it. But I’m not making any promises either.”
After taking an initial step and testing the way, his right foot slipped over the edge. At the same time, his left foot slid forward.
With his right arm windmilling for balance, he leaned in hard against the dense stone to his left and bent his leg to lower his center of gravity. Cold water ran from the crack in the stone and splashed him in the face. Sputtering against the wetness, trying not to breathe it in, he clutched at the minuscule lumps in the rock face while balancing and skating on his left foot off the next step like he was surfing one-footed. His legs then split apart when he tried to pull up his right foot, and he tumbled onto the step below and rolled over onto his back, upside down, feet going up in the air.
Finally, he came to a rest staring skyward, precariously balanced with one arm dangling over the edge and all his blood rushing to his head.
For a panicked instant, he was certain he was about to slide further and fall to his death—but he didn’t.
Fortunately, the step he’d fallen onto was much wider than the steps he had surfed across to bridge the gap. He took a second or two to recover before bracing himself with his hands and staying that way for a moment longer, recovering before daring to move again.
“Jack!” Morgan called out. “Be careful!”
>
But the time for careful passage had long since expired. He was across the dangerous part of the gap now—and was still alive. As he stood, he shook his head at her.
With a continued series of deep breaths, he avoided glancing over the edge and into the abyss, preferring to feel the solid rock face to his right and keeping both hands flattened against it, fingertips finding any grip they could in the smooth stone. The sound the water made told him just how far down he would have fallen if he had slid over the edge.
A long damn way.
Raising himself to his standing height, he wobbled before readjusting the MP-5K’s strap and assuring himself that he could still walk. The gun’s strap had become entangled with his pack, and had made it difficult to turn without it bumping into the rock face.
Exhaling, he steadied himself and did a quick search for a crack large enough to drive the metal piton into, but not too large. There was a vertical split that ran beside him and was connected to the gap where the stream of water spouted from. Other than the mist of overspray wetting the lower half, the rest appeared dry.
He snaked his fingers inside the crack and felt around for a narrow groove where he could set the spike. Something inside broke loose in his hand, and he worked whatever it was back and forth until it came free. When he pulled it out, he realized just what it was. It was not a branch as he had first expected. No, that would have been much better than what he now held. What he had thought might have been a branch was actually a radius bone—a human radius bone. There were still tiny wrist and finger bones attached to it by strips of moistened sinew. On the bone was a watch—a scuffed-up gold watch with a cloudy glass lens.
“What did you find?” Reyna asked from the other side of the gap.
“A watch.”
He unthreaded the watch from the bones and set the rest back inside the crack, wedging it there so it would stay in place. After buffing the glass covering the watch face on his shirt, he raised it to get a closer look. The make was difficult to read, but time and date were visible. The time read—3:21PM. The date showed the month but not the year—Saturday, May 2nd.
Zombie Team Alpha: Lost City Of Z Page 14