Zombie Team Alpha: Lost City Of Z

by Steve R. Yeager

  “On it,” she replied.

  Moray stepped closer to Cutter. In his hand was a pistol. It was raised and pointing at Cutter. “You’re not in charge here, I am. You seem to have forgotten that small detail.”

  “Screw that,” Cutter growled. “I’m the guy in charge now.”

  When Moray said nothing else, Cutter turned away from him and checked the twin corridors that lead to the only two ways into the inner sanctum in which they stood. One went left and back to where they had come from. The other went right. He’d take one. Gauge would take the other.

  He turned back to those in the room. “We have to keep going. We can’t stop here.”

  “No, Jack,” Reyna said. “We are safe here.”

  “What?”

  “Those things will not pursue us in here.”

  “How the hell do you know that?”

  “Trust me.”

  “Goddammit! I’m done with this trusting shit. Tell me now. What the hell is going on?”

  “Look.” She pointed to the marks on the walls.

  He’d noticed a few seconds earlier that the lines could not just be random scratches. They meant something.

  “Those represent the zombies, Jack.”

  Then he got it. Each mark represented one zombie, just like the primitive stick figures a child would draw. Some were white but most were black. Many of the marks had perpendicular lines drawn through them, which looked like crosses.

  What else struck him as odd were the number of crossed-out white streaks. That had to mean they were something different. Then it came to him in a sudden flash. “A lot of those skeletons tied up to the trees were white men. Right?”

  “Yes, Jack,” Reyna said, taking over before he could finish his explanation. “This is a counting of all that has been going on here. There was a major purge that took place many years ago. That’s why we found all those skeletons tied to the trees. They were the former dwellers of the city. But they were taken over at some point.”

  “By who?” Jack asked.

  “Fawcett’s son,” Moray said. “Originally, that is. Percy Fawcett installed his son as the leader of this city. He made his own son, El Dorado—The Golden Man.”

  “Why would he make his son into a statue?” Morgan asked.

  “I assure you,” Moray said, “it is far from as bad as it might look. That statue is a living being.”

  “Didn’t look so alive to me,” Gauge said.

  “But he is, technically.” Moray pointed at another stick figure off in one corner drawn in yellow. “That mark represents him after the transformation.”

  Cutter squatted beside the platform and ran his hand over the marks. “And all these are goddamned zombies from way back then? Shouldn’t they have all rotted away?”

  “That is why we are here, Jack,” Reyna said.

  She moved closer to Morgan while Cutter absorbed what she’d said. “Those are not zombies, per say,” she said. “Not really. They are not decomposing as you might have noticed. Their lives have been extended. This will be an important discovery for the world. Just think, Jack, it’s what your wife had been after for so many years.”

  “No,” Cutter said. “Can’t be.”

  “Think, Jack. Think.”

  He was certain Sharon hadn’t been chasing this theory when she had died. But, in his heightened state of thought, he ran through a myriad of interactions he’d had with her. She’d believed that certain ancient races existed and had lived lives far longer than normal human lifespans. There’d even been stories related to her research that had been handed down through the ages and made it into the Bible. The story of Methuselah and Lazarus were two of the more famous legends. And there were more. Other cultures that had never come in contact with Biblical teachings had mysteriously shared similar legends of greatly extended lifespans. And, that could not have occurred unless the legends had come from even older, more primitive sources.

  Much of it made sense to him now.

  This wasn’t about zombies at all. This was about immortality.

  Reyna indicated toward other images drawn above the stick figures and stopped on one in particular. “Do you see this figure? It is in the middle of the darker sticks, but it is a gold mark. This one is El Dorado as we just saw it.”

  Cutter nodded his agreement. He got it now.

  “And another thing, Mr. Cutter,” Moray said. “Do you all feel better somehow? Almost euphoric? Healthier than you have ever been in your life?”

  “Yeah,” Cutter said. His answer was repeated by both Morgan and Gauge.

  Reyna added, “There’s an effect in play here that is acting to heal us and make us…different. Better. I, for one, am finding it rather…seductive.”

  Cutter had been feeling it too all along. He did feel good. Great, in fact. He also felt as if he wanted to stay in the city forever.

  Maybe even call it…home?

  But that would be insane. Stay with all those zombies? Become one? For a chance at eternal life? His anger built until he realized that the budding rage was just what he needed to see the situation as it had been all along.

  “We have to get the hell out of here,” he said. “Pronto. We can’t stay here any longer or…we’ll—”

  He forgot what he was saying.

  “Go,” he said, shaking his head to clear it. “Hurry. Before—”

  “But I haven’t built the—what was I doing?” Morgan asked. Her face said it all. She’d gone blank. Then a look of pure terror seeped into her eyes.

  - 35 -

  THE HELP

  Not knowing exactly why he was running, but knowing that he had no other choice, Cutter jogged ahead and led them all back toward the stairway leading out of the valley. They raced for it in the waning light of the day and ended up near the foot of the stairway, encompassed by a field of jagged-edged, fallen rocks.

  His mind was clearing, slowly. But it was still fuzzy, and he knew he wasn’t thinking clearly. The further he got from the temple, though, the easier it was to think on his own. But the aches and pains in his joints and muscles also began to return. He glanced at Morgan and nodded his supreme thanks. If it hadn’t been for the look he saw come across her face, he never would have realized the danger they had been in. She nodded back and bent forward—hands on her knees—and worked to catch her breath. Moray was beside her, hands on his hips, head back, also gasping for air. Cutter was out of breath as well, and sticky with sweat, but recovering as he normally would. Gone were the feelings of euphoria.

  With his faded mental acuity, he almost missed what happened next. But something triggered him, and he spotted it coming a split second before Moray could react.

  Renewed fear sharpened Cutter’s focus once again.

  The man who had once been Moray’s sidekick, translator, and general manservant—Ajay Covenant—was there. The guy was streaked with congealing blood, and a mangled arm hung limply at one side. His eyes glowed red in the gloaming of the day.

  The newly turned zombie rushed Morgan, lifting its one good arm to attack. Before it reached her, the thing’s belly tore open, and a mass of organs and worm-like tubes of intestine spilled out. It stepped on those twisting gray tubes, became entangled in its own viscera, and stumbled.

  Cutter leapt into action. He barreled toward Morgan and knocked the zombie aside with a body check, landing hard on it. As he fell with the zombie, his right hand lodged inside the creature’s ribcage. He shoved his free arm up and under the slavering jaws of the zombie, holding it at bay while pulling his other from the thing’s guts and reaching for the hunting knife at his side.

  What he failed to realize, though, was that he had misjudged, and instead of his arm coming up under the thing’s jaw, he shoved his forearm into the zombie’s already open jaws.

  The zombie bit down hard on his arm.

  Letting out a yelp of pain, Cutter yanked his arm free while raising the knife, twisting it so the blade was lined up with the thing’s brainstem.


  But right before he could finish jamming the knife in, the zombie’s head exploded like a rotten pumpkin, taking a shot from the Desert Eagle .50 Gauge called “Betty.”

  Spitting out bits of blood and brains that had landed on his lips, Cutter pulled away and rose to his feet, where he nursed his injured arm, realizing that he’d been bitten by that thing.

  Worry creased Reyna’s face as she approached him. Morgan joined her. Her eyes held even more fear.

  Cutter realized in the moment that he was about to become one of those things. He was going to learn what it was like to be a zombie.

  He glanced at his arm again in shock, hoping it wasn’t true. But it was—and there was nothing he could do about it.

  Then it came to him. Maybe he could chop his arm off below the elbow. That might stop the spread of any poison or whatever it was that turned someone into a zombie. He had the knife. He only needed to summon the will to do it. He shut his eyes for a second and focused. Then he raised the blade and prepared to hack off his own forearm in one fell swoop.

  Don’t miss.

  Before he could make the cut, though, Reyna was at his side and grabbing him by the wrist, keeping him from slicing into his own flesh. She was joined by Gauge, who disarmed him of the blade.

  Cutter stared at the wound, dumbfounded, seeing the red blood and ragged puncture marks where the zombie’s teeth had dug into his flesh. Reyna pulled his arm up under hers and turned her back on him so he couldn’t see what she was doing.

  “Cut it off,” Cutter said into her ear. “I don’t want to be one of those things. Just do it! Do it!”

  He felt something. Pain seared his mind. He was certain she’d cut it off. He could feel his warm blood draining out of the severed limb. He wanted to sink to the ground—escape the pain.

  “There is another way to save you, Jack,” Reyna said.

  “No!” Moray added. “Absolutely not. It’s mine.”

  “What…?” Cutter breathed.

  “Just hold on, Jack,” Reyna said. “Just. Hold. On.”

  - 36 -

  THE GOLDEN MAN

  “Wait!” Moray yelled.

  Cutter rested in the arms of Morgan and Reyna. They were supporting his weight between them. They had not cut off his arm as he’d first thought. Instead, Reyna had wrapped a bandage around it and had pulled it snug.

  “We have to go, Jack,” Morgan said.

  “No!” Moray stated with finality. “We stay here.”

  Considering his limited options, Cutter figured there was no way in hell that he was going to make it to the top of the stairs. The pain was too great, and no matter what he did, he was going to turn into one of those things.

  “Leave me here,” he said. “Leave me behind.”

  “Like hell,” Morgan growled. She and Reyna started toward the first switchback, dragging Cutter between them.

  “Stop,” Moray said from behind.

  They kept going.

  A bullet ricocheted off the ground in front of Cutter. Reyna and Morgan turned. Cutter tried to bring up his weapon, but Moray had already drawn down on him.

  “You can’t go, Mr. Cutter. We are not finished here yet.”

  “I’m done with you, Moray. Keep all your goddamned money.” Cutter turned to Gauge. “He threatens us again, shoot him.”

  Gauge grunted and leveled his Desert Eagle at their former employer.

  “Sometimes, finishing a bad job is just not worth it,” Cutter said.

  “Yet, you will finish it this time,” Moray said.

  Reyna and Morgan backed off. Cutter did the best he could to remain on his feet.

  “Mr. Cutter,” Moray continued. “There was a reason I brought you all along. I’m glad you have survived for as long as you have. Now you will serve me in a…different capacity. Immortality, Jack. Soon I will have it. As will you.”

  “You’re crazy,” Reyna said. “You won’t find immortality here. You’ll find only enslavement.”

  “What…?” Cutter asked.

  “He wishes to become immortal. But he is a fool. Moray, please reconsider. There is still time to walk away from this. You have found the greatest discovery of this century. Don’t squander it on yourself alone.”

  “Squander? Oh, you misjudge me, my dear. But that doesn’t matter. It will be good to have you near me to fulfill my every whim.”

  “Shut up,” Cutter said.

  Moray raised his gun and leveled it at Cutter’s forehead. His hand began to shake.

  “Behind you,” Cutter breathed. Then, over his right shoulder, he said, “Run.”

  But Morgan, Reyna, and Gauge did not run as he had instructed.

  “Get going,” he repeated.

  Moray smiled. He lowered the weapon and turned his back on Cutter. He raised his hands to the approaching figure of the Golden Man. It had come alone.

  “Don’t bother,” Cutter said to Gauge and lowered his own weapon. “Bullets wouldn’t do anything to it.”

  Moray lowered his arms. “Welcome,” he said to the figure. “I’ve been waiting…I’ve been searching…trying to find you. Now, I have.”

  The golden figure moved past Moray.

  Cutter prepared to fight it, but had no idea how he possibly could. But, instead of charging him, the figure circled the dead corpse of Ajay Covenant.

  The Golden Man got down on one knee and stroked Ajay’s cheek. Then it rose and stepped in front of Moray. Tiny purple sparks emanated from the figure’s fingertips, dancing and sparkling.

  Moray remained locked in place while he was studied. When the figure stopped, Moray said, “I am here to replace you. I will assume your burdens. I will make them mine. I will release you from your sworn duty.”

  Moray then started speaking in a language Cutter had never heard before. It sounded a bit like Latin, but he was certain it was not.

  The Golden Man nodded once, reached out for Moray, and touched him on the cheek. The purple sparks coming from the figure grew until its entire body was covered by an electrified glow.

  Moray was transfixed. He did not look away.

  Suddenly, Moray’s back arched as if he’d been shocked to the core. When the Golden Man removed his hand from Moray’s face, the man who Cutter had once thought looked like a chimpanzee, now had glowing red eyes.

  Moray had become one of them—a zombie.

  The Golden Man raised his sparking hand and took a step toward Cutter.

  “Ah, hell no,” Cutter said. He winced as he raised his MP-5K. He squeezed the trigger and the bullets hit the golden statue, but the copper-jacketed lead only caused a hitch in its step. Gauge fired and slowed it further.

  Then the creature that had once been Moray lunged at Cutter.

  Bringing his gun up and online, Cutter squeezed the trigger again.

  Nothing.

  He was out of ammo.

  He tried for the Glock at his side, but before he could reach it, Morgan ripped the knife from the sheath on his opposite hip and drove it point first into Moray’s eye socket, then pulled back and drove it further downward.

  The man who was once Moray, was no more. The red glow seeped out of his eyes.

  Then, as Cutter finally got to his Glock and brought it up, he knew that he was doomed. The Golden Man was unstoppable and would come for him next, then each of his friends. They’d all be turned into zombies, one by one.

  But the Golden Man did not attack. Instead, it picked up the corpse of Moray and slung it over one shoulder. It then picked up Ajay and tossed the smaller man over its opposite shoulder.

  Leaving Cutter utterly speechless, the Golden Man jogged off into the waning light of the day.

  - 37 -

  HEROICS

  Even though the Golden Man was now gone, the rapidly expanding horror of what was in store for Cutter began to sink in. He was going to become a zombie just like Moray, and there was nothing on God’s green earth he could do about it.

  Blowing out a sigh of resignation, he untangled himsel
f from the strap of his MP-5K and tossed the gun out of reach. He wouldn’t need it any longer and didn’t want it anywhere near him, just in case he could somehow still use it against his team. He drew his Glock and handed it to Gauge, grip first.

  “As soon as I turn into one of those things, shoot me.” He pointed to the side of his head. “Right there, okay…?” Then he added, even though he didn’t need to, “Don’t miss.”

  Gauge stared at him blankly.

  “Don’t think you can do anything else for me, okay? No heroics.” Cutter tapped a finger on his forehead. “Maybe just put two right there just to be sure. Straight between the eyes, got it?”

  Gauge frowned and remained silent.

  Cutter drew a breath. “And don’t you goddamned miss,” he whispered.

  Reyna took his forearm in her hands and tightened the hastily made bandage she had wrapped around the wound to cover the bite marks.

  “Ow,” he said when she cinched it down, as if it hurt. It didn’t, all things considered.

  “Don’t be such a baby, Jack,” she added.

  Cutter chuckled a little. He appreciated the dark humor. Cutting his arm off now wasn’t going to work, surely. It was too late for that. The Golden Man must have left because it knew his turning into a zombie was inevitable. But, its behavior was strange, nonetheless. The way it had treated Ajay and Moray had almost been…protective.

  No, that wasn’t it. It was—

  Maybe he’d read everything wrong. There was a purpose behind everything that had happened. He was sure of it now, but wasn’t ready yet to dive into exactly what that was. But he felt it already in his gut, and he knew what he had to do. He also knew there was only one way to keep his team alive.

  “Do we still have all the explosives?” he asked Morgan.

  “Yes…why?”

  “In Russia—” he started to say, then doubled over in sudden pain.

  “In Russia, what, Jack?”

  “Don’t cut me off. This is hard enough to say already. We…” he started. Then he stopped again. A new burst of heat rippled its way up his arm from where he’d been bitten. He could feel something there under his skin. It was as if a hot, flowing poison was now making its way past the tightened bandage on his arm and seeping up through his veins and climbing all the way to his shoulder. He sucked a breath and fought away the growing pain.