While Cutter was messing around with the watch, Moray made his own way across the gap. Cutter started to put the watch in his pocket and step forward to help, but it appeared Moray needed no help making it across. The man made the crossing with far less trouble than Cutter had encountered.
Cutter frowned a bit. Things like that didn’t used to be so difficult for him. It was yet another reminder that he was getting old and was out of shape.
As water dribbled from Moray’s hair, he stretched a hand out, and Cutter set the watch in it, a bit shamed by his recent ineptitude. Maybe it was best that Moray was the guy in charge. Maybe it was finally time for Cutter to admit it to himself that he was in way over his head and had no idea what he was doing.
He drew a breath and let it out. “What do you suppose …?”
“I don’t know, Mr. Cutter,” Moray replied.
But Cutter wasn’t so sure the man was telling the truth. Moray probably knew more. Cutter glanced at the watch again. It appeared to be old, but just how old? After clearing his throat, he gestured for Moray to give the watch back, but the man didn’t return it. Instead, Moray pocketed it with a disapproving glare, turned away, and waved a hand for the next person to cross the gap.
Letting the matter drop, Cutter rechecked the line he had strung, making sure the thin cord was secure on his side. It was. He waved Morgan through. Next came Reyna, with Gauge acting as an anchor on the other side, holding the cord steady.
When it came to Ajay’s turn to cross, the man shook his head no and remained on the opposite side. Cutter wondered as he watched the guy if he were acting that weak as well. Something deep inside him told him he was. The past few minutes had been a regular pity party for him, which was unlike how he normally thought. He felt an urge to cry.
“What the hell is going on?” he whispered to himself.
“What?” Moray asked.
“Nothing.” Cutter shook his head to clear it. There was something going on with him. He just didn’t know what it was yet. He sucked a breath and tried to steady himself, but his emotions were suddenly running high and it was all he could do to control himself.
Moray moved past him and closer to the gap. “I want you over here now. This is no time to be afraid. You saw us all do it. That means you can do it as well, right?”
Ajay Covenant unfolded his arms and started out nervously. He trailed one hand against the rock while holding onto the thin cord with his other hand, sliding along the line as he shuffled his feet on the thinning trail, and pressing himself up against the solid wall to his left.
He almost made it across.
- 30 -
ALL THE WAY TO THE BOTTOM
Cutter reacted instantly. He extended himself as far as he could and slapped a hand over the thin line Ajay had grabbed. With a whipping motion, Cutter corkscrewed the tightening line around his forearm and squatted, then leaned back and dug in his heels.
Ajay fell against the line, trying to maintain his grip with both hands spread out wide and precariously balancing on the cord in front of him. One wrong move and the taut line would shoot up over his head, or a shift downward and he would launch himself over the line.
The line wobbled back and forth while it steadied.
“Hang on,” Cutter groaned.
Straining, but moving slowly and cautiously, Cutter pulled on the line and forced Ajay back up toward the cliff face. Both of Ajay’s feet were over the edge. Only his heels rested on the tiny ledge.
“Help me,” he cried no louder than a whisper, eyes gone wide with fear. “Please. Help me.”
“Trying to,” Cutter muttered through clenched teeth. Startling him, he felt strong hands wrap around from behind and anchor him in place as he dug in his heels deeper, seeking any purchase the rock could provide.
He pulled even harder on the line, trying to maneuver Ajay back to vertical.
Then one of Cutter’s feet slipped and he was jerked toward the man.
But he dug in, fighting the pain coming from his aching feet. He redoubled his efforts and began to scoot backward again, slowly, tugging hard, lifting Ajay as the man struggled to maintain his balance.
Then, without warning, the piton that had been driven into a crack on the opposite side of the gap broke free with a sudden jolt.
Ajay let go of the line with one hand while the other spun around in a circle as he tried to rebalance himself against the cliff face. As the other end whipped out over the void, he swung away on one foot and seemed to defy gravity.
But just for a moment.
“Help!” he yelled.
Grunting, Cutter reasserted himself and tugged on the cord, reeling him in before he fell.
Ajay’s heels then slipped from the ledge, and he dropped away while scrambling to grip the thin cord.
Cutter heard the man shriek from below but could not see him. He couldn’t scoot forward to see because he’d lose the footholds he had gained. Instead, he clamped his eyes shut and dug his heels in even harder. He wasn’t going to let go of his end. He’d lost his wife in much the same way when he’d lost his grip on her line. There was also the very real possibility that this line, being as thin as it was, could take his arm off when it tightened. Still, he was not about to let go.
He would not lose his grip. Not this time.
“Help!” the man shrieked again.
Cutter yanked back to counter the expected shock of the line tightening.
But the line just went slack in his hands. He fell backward into Morgan and Moray, who had been behind him tugging on the straps of his pack.
With a brief burst of optimism, Cutter was certain the man had only slid down the line and had either found a lip to stand on or might stop when he reached the end where the other piton had been tied. That metal spike would give a better grip. A last chance.
Cutter kept his eyes shut in preparation of the coming pain when the line went taut again.
Half a second ticked passed. It seemed like an eternity.
Then—
Nothing.
The line had not gone taut as he had expected. The line wasn’t ever going to go taut again.
Ajay’s frantic screaming continued but grew more and more distant.
Cutter opened his eyes slowly, let go of the cord, and crawled on all fours to peek over the edge. The screaming became more and more distant and more and more frantic until it ended abruptly. Shrinking back from the edge, he pushed himself until he was all the way against the rock face. He stared at the limp, useless cord lying beside him. To his left now was Moray, to his right Morgan. They had both stood and were letting him sit there without saying anything.
“Thought I had him,” Cutter said solemnly.
Moray picked up his pack, slung it over one shoulder, and started down the stairs, not saying a word. Cutter glanced back at Gauge, who had not crossed the gap yet, then up at Morgan again.
“No one else dies,” he said to Moray’s back. “You hear me? I’m not going to let it happen.”
Half a second after the words had left his lips, he regretted uttering anything at all.
- 31 -
INTO THE CITY
Cutter didn’t actually regret saying that no one else would die. Reassurances were a human kindness—little white lies told to soothe raw nerves. But when he realized he was telling someone else a truth that he merely wished to be true, he knew he’d crossed a line. This wasn’t him. He was becoming irrationally emotional again.
Something was seriously wrong with his head.
The rest of the descent into the valley was effortless compared to the struggle of getting past the gap. On their way down to the valley floor, they were unable to locate the body of Ajay Covenant. It had become lost in the piles of stone and tangled tree roots. With enough effort, they could retrieve it, but getting to it would be difficult. Eventually, though, Cutter knew they would have to locate it. Perhaps when Moray found what he had been looking for and called in the troops to help them evacuate. But th
at would take a while, and the wrecked body might not even be there at that point, considering the number of predators and scavengers that would see it as a free meal.
Cutter had not sought to connect with the guy, so he felt a little less guilty with every step he took. He couldn’t think of anything else he could have done to save him. He’d seen plenty of people die. He’d even killed some of them with his own hands. What he couldn’t figure out was why he was so upset over it. That didn’t make any sense.
During the descent to the valley floor, Moray had remained silent about the events that had led to his assistant’s passing. Instead, the man had gone stoic and led the way, letting Cutter and Gauge take up the rear behind Morgan and Reyna. His reactions seemed strange as well.
Maybe, just maybe, Cutter thought, the heat and humidity were finally getting to him. Or maybe he just needed a drink.
Everything seemed so—skewed.
It wasn’t long before they reached the point where the descent ended and the roads made of fitted stone began. Between them was a transition of loose rock choked with vegetation. The sensation he felt through his steel-toed boots changed dramatically when he stepped onto the ancient roadbed. His feet were still giving him trouble, but the pain had been reduced to a gentle throbbing. They tingled instead of ached. Morgan slowed and sidled up next to him as he kept walking. She had a tablet computer in her hands and had pulled up an overhead satellite map.
“This is where we are now, Jack,” she whispered, showing him what she was looking at. “Notice anything unusual?”
He leaned in closer and stared at the screen. The glass was smudged with fingerprints, and the light filtering down through the canopy above was creating an opaque white glare, but he could still make out the uniformity of it all. From above, the forest canopy looked almost too perfect. A casual observer would not even stop to look at the spot twice.
He puffed air through his nose. “Interesting. Have you figured out how that thing is kept up?” he asked, tilting his neck skyward.
“No, it shouldn’t even be possible. A span of that size would create a weight at least—”
“Any guesses? Suppositions? Anything?”
“No,” she finally said. “I don’t have a clue.”
He again breathed noisily. “Oh, one more thing,” he started to say, then stopped himself.
She looked up from her tablet and held his gaze.
“Up by that waterfall,” he said, jerking his thumb at a spot behind him, “—the watch that Moray took—the date on it was Saturday, May 2nd, but no year. Is there any way you can calculate it out? Maybe give me a few guesses as to what the year was?”
Her fingers ran over the tablet. A few seconds later, she showed him the results. He scanned down a list of dates and stuck his finger on one in particular. “Didn’t Colonel Fawcett…didn’t he disappear in 1925?”
She nodded.
He scratched his chin. “April, I think. So, that watch could possibly have been his or belonged to someone in his party, right?”
“Everything is possible, Jack. It’s a matter of probabilities.” She cleaned the screen off with a wipe of her sleeve and brought up the overhead map of the area again. “I don’t think this map is going to do us any good.”
“Nope. I think you’re right on that one,” he said with a hint of resignation. “We’ll just have to do it the old fashioned way, okay? Keep your eyes sharp and keep the guns up.” He checked his own weapons and studied Morgan for a moment longer. “I’ve got a funny vibe about this place. Things don’t seem as they should. Are you feeling any different?”
She stared at him. “No. Are you?”
“I’m fine, Morgan. Just concerned. You still know how to use your weapon, right? If not I’ll—”
“Jack…?”
“What…?”
She shifted closer to him and reached out to turn off the insect-repelling device on his belt. The second after she straightened again, his blood ran cold. There was not a single insect anywhere near him. Because of the device, he’d become so used to not seeing them that their absence seemed almost normal. They should have swarmed all over him the second the device had been switched off.
He glanced into the distance and sucked air through his teeth. “What do you think is causing this? Why are there no insects?”
“I don’t know.” She choked and cleared her throat. “I just don’t know.”
“What are you two babbling about?” Reyna asked as she joined them.
“Insects,” Cutter said. “Or lack thereof.”
She stared at him briefly, frowned, and walked off to join Moray.
Cutter and Morgan exchanged questioning looks.
“Do you suppose she knows what’s going on?” Morgan asked.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t. And whatever it is, I don’t like it. Not at all.” He chewed the inside of his lip, wondering how far he should press it right now, concluding that a confrontation was in order. Sooner rather than later.
“Just be ready for anything, okay?” He glanced at Gauge who had been standing silently behind them. “That goes for you too. Keep those eyes wide open. Guns up. Lock and load. And all that other shit.”
Gauge grunted an affirmative.
- 32 -
PRIMORDIAL INSTINCT
Cutter took his first step between the crumbling stone buildings. The hairs on the nape of his neck raised in alarm. His long-range view of the surrounding area collapsed into a narrow cone of focus pointing him directly at the center of the city. It was all so—confining. The crumbling stone walls to either side of him, with their cracks filled with lush vegetation, added an extra layer of eeriness to his growing unease. He could almost picture what those same streets might have looked like a thousand years ago, back when humans had last occupied the city. It awoke in him a primordial instinct that he couldn’t explain. It was a creeping sensation that, put all together, felt as though something slimy was slithering its way along his backbone, offering up a warning from the deepest recesses of his genetic coding.
“This place sure gives me the heebie-jeebies,” Gauge said from Cutter’s right.
Cutter grunted a nervous laugh of his own. “Heebie-jeebies? I dunno about that,” he mumbled, then drew a deep, calming breath through his nose. “It looks pretty damn nice to me. Plenty of peace and quiet. Open space. No neighbors to worry about. Excellent property values.”
“Looks more like a graveyard to me,” Gauge added, then grunted again.
Cutter said nothing more, but he did grip the handle on his MP-5K a little tighter and lengthened his stride to catch up to Moray, who was out front leading the pack still, with Reyna glued to his hip.
“Is there anything I should be concerned about?” he asked Moray.
“Nothing that I’m expecting,” the man answered calmly. “Everything here is long dead.”
That answer did not fill Cutter with confidence. He’d seen what he’d thought should be dead, be undead. Anything was possible.
“Are you ready to make the sat call to get us the hell out of here?” he asked.
“Not yet, Mr. Cutter. Soon. We’re almost there. When we locate what I came for, I’ll make the call—but not a second sooner. That’s the plan.”
Cutter stopped walking beside them and let Moray and Reyna gain a few steps on him. He glanced up at the canopy above, wondering how a satellite phone could even penetrate whatever substance that layer was made from and acquire a signal lock. He doubted it even could, which meant Moray was lying to him still.
He stepped forward again, faster, meaning to catch up with them again and press the question. Then he stumbled, suddenly afraid.
“This isn’t like you, Jack,” he mumbled. Confused, he slowed and let Morgan catch up to him again before he matched her pace.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Never better.”
“Did they tell you what’s going on?”
“No.”
“Wil
l they?” she asked.
He had no idea. When he didn’t answer, she sped up to get ahead of him and he fell behind until Gauge caught up.
“Am I acting strange?” he asked.
Gauge kept walking. “No stranger than usual, boss. But—”
“But what?”
“You do seem a little panicky. Kind of pansy-like.”
Cutter half-heartily grinned back at the man. Leave it to Gauge to sum it up in one short statement. It was true. He’d somehow lost his nerve. He shut his eyes briefly and tried to push away all the negative thoughts. Years ago, he’d learned breathing exercises that had helped him master his fears. Those same exercises returned to him now.
Each step you make, make with purpose. Each breath you take, take with purpose. Everything around you, observe closely. Then mentally assign all your nagging worries to the objects that you pass.
Soon, the anxiety melted away and his fears vanished behind him.
They reached the center of the city about twenty minutes later. The confine of crumbling buildings opened into a large circle with spokes that radiated outward like a giant wheel. In the center was a tall arched structure made of white stone. It was different from all the other structures surrounding it, having remained unmarred by time and weather. The arches soared high into the sky—perhaps four or five stories—and supported a domed roof fifty feet above. A ring of stairs led up and into the interior. From the angle they were at, he could see into the temple. In the very center was a stone structure on which sat—
He rubbed his eyes and looked again. There was a life-sized statue of a man perched on a raised dais. The man was gilt head to toe in gold. Or was it gold leaf? Or, could it possibly be…solid gold? If that were so, then that would mean…
“Who is that?” Morgan asked.
Cutter shrugged and shook his head.
“That,” Moray said, “is the famous El Dorado. The Golden Man.”
“Literally?” Morgan asked.
Zombie Team Alpha: Lost City Of Z Page 15