Return To Primordial Island

by Rick Poldark

  Their fingertips met, and the cavern around them melted away in Jason’s mind’s eye. Suddenly, they were in the woods of Alaska. The bare, rock walls morphed into the brilliant green unique to Alaskan flora. Snow blanketed the ground, and Jason saw his breath cloud up in the air in front of him with each exhalation. Yet, there wasn’t an icy bite in the air. In fact, the only cold he felt welled up inside him, emanating from the death orb.

  *

  As Peter edged across the ledge, carefully negotiating his way around a second and third statue, he heard that icy wordless voice in his mind. ‘Stop. Bring the life orb to me, or I will rend your friends limb from limb.’

  Peter stopped where he was, pressing his face and chest against the cool rock. He turned his head, careful to maintain his balance. He saw Tracey and Mary held up by two massive ape mummies like rag dolls.

  ‘No,’ he answered. ‘If you don’t let them go, I’ll throw myself off this ledge, and your precious life orb will be lost. You’ll never escape captivity.’

  Losing patience, Ghenga waved his hand and the mummies grabbed Mary and Tracey each by their wrists, holding them up in front of them. The women squirmed, trying to wriggle free. ‘I will rip their arms from their sockets.’

  ‘If I surrender to you, they’re dead anyway,’ said Peter. ‘No deal.’

  In a trick of the shadows, Ghenga transformed into a wraithlike figure, the top half that of a humanoid woman and the bottom half that of a serpent. Her eyes glowed yellow; the pupils were vertical slits. She was beautiful and horrific all at once.

  ‘Let them go,’ commanded Peter.

  ‘You are in no position to give orders.’ Nazimaa’s eyes glowed brighter, and the mummies holding the women started to pull their arms apart slowly. Tracey cried out and Mary grunted, gritting her teeth.

  He saw Jason just standing there, staring into space, hypnotized. He knew Nazimaa had already gotten to his friend.

  Peter jutted his right hand out. ‘Okay! Stop!’

  Nazimaa’s eyes dimmed.

  ‘What do you want?’ Peter asked the demon.

  ‘Relinquish the orb, and I will let you all go unharmed.’

  He knew if he did that, she’d be free—free to roam the land, and free to leave this dimension and enter his. She knew that he knew that. She also knew, deep down, he wouldn’t allow Tracey and Mary to be harmed.

  *

  Jason watched in horror as the mummies, as well as Tracey and Mary, morphed into a pack of wolves and began to maul Joey. “No!” He stepped forward to grab his little brother, but the wolves snatched the boy first. They tore into him, savaging the poor kid all over again.

  ‘Help me, Jason!’ cried Joey, as the wolves sank their teeth into his small body, playing tug of war with him. Blood oozed out of Joey’s mouth as he cried out for his big brother, as his coat and the flesh beneath was torn to shreds.

  Jason dashed forward to try to help, but the wolves pushed him back. He felt helpless to do anything to save Joey.

  ‘Use the orb!’ cried Joey. ‘Wipe them out in one shot! You can do it!’

  Desperation and fury welled up inside Jason, just like when Susan was brutalized by the chimpanzees. It was all he needed to access the power of his death orb. He lashed out with his power, sending it out over the wolves in waves.

  They recoiled from the dark energy, cringing and contorting. They whimpered and cried out in agony as Jason squelched their life forces. Simultaneously, Joey’s wounds began to heal and his torn clothing mend.

  Jason felt the satisfaction of vengeful bloodlust as he barraged the wolves with his dark energy. It was something he had always wished he could’ve done, but was unable to do—avenge Joey’s death.

  ‘Keep going,’ pleaded Joey. ‘I’m feeling…better. I’m coming back…we can be together…keep going.’

  Jason wasn’t going to let up. He didn’t just want to kill these wolves. He wanted to obliterate them. He also wanted to bring Joey back, and it appeared the only way to accomplish both was to unleash the full power of the death orb. He reached deep inside himself and released a tsunami of death. It washed over the wolves, and they vanished in its wake, as did Joey.

  Terrified he had made a fatal error, he ceased the attack, but it didn’t matter. He felt the power recede, not just from around him, but from his own body. As the tides of death energy waned, Nazimaa stood in Joey’s place, soaking it all up like a sponge. Jason looked down to see the death orb floating out of his chest and over to Nazimaa.

  As she was still incorporeal, she was unable to absorb the orb as yet. However, her eyes burned within their sockets, and the death orb illuminated in response to its rightful master.

  Jason felt an illness deep within him—once paused by Nazimaa—re-ignite. Fever engulfed him once more, and he felt his life slip from his body on the wings of delirium. The screams and cries of Tracey and Mary grew distant as oblivion consumed him.

  *

  Peter successfully turned his body so his back was to the wall in time to watch as Jason fell limp into Nazimaa’s arms. She glared at Peter, her eyes flashing, and she tossed Jason’s lifeless husk into the chasm.

  “Nooooooo!” he shouted, feeling distraught and furious, enraged and helpless.

  Nazimaa pointed a long, bony finger at Peter. ‘Stay right there.’

  With a wordless command, several of the Simian mummies bolted to Peter’s side of the cavern on all fours, using their long arms to help propel them. They swung out over the ledge with great facility, using the statues like tree trunks. They closed in on Peter, who clung to the wall on the ledge only a few statues away.

  He had half a mind to jump. It was the only thing he could do. He wouldn’t stop Nazimaa, but he’d keep her imprisoned. He quickly summoned the conviction required, fueled by outrage and defiance. He leaned forward, jumping off the narrow ledge into the yawning chasm below.

  However, he was too late. After a couple of seconds of freefall, he was snatched up by the swinging mummies and hauled back to the ledge. He cursed himself for pausing for even the briefest of moments. He hung over the chasm, dangling by his wrist, as one of the mummies gripped it tight with one massive hand, the other massive hand gripping the statue.

  ‘Now, now. That wasn’t very smart,’ hissed the demon.

  She hopped onto the back of one of the mummies, and it leapt, swinging from branch to branch until it reached the other side of the cavern. The mummies clutching Tracey and Mary also swung across, carrying their master’s insurance policy, in case Peter had any other ideas.

  They all waited at the foot of the statue of the Simian king as Peter’s mummy carried him across, tossing him up in the air like a toy, only to be caught by another, and then another, as the mummies deftly swung from branch to branch.

  At last, he was thrown to the ground at Nazimaa’s feet on the other side. The demon loomed over him, and behind her the sculpture of her old nemesis loomed over her. Only this time, he posed no threat to her.

  Nazimaa stroked the sarcophagus with a spectral finger and stood in front of the enormous statue of the Simian King, crushing her in effigy. ‘Centuries ago, the Simian King faced me in battle. Despite my powers and cunning, he used his strength to subdue me before his god of power and light.

  ‘His queen and daughter possessed the life and death orbs, the latter obtained by defeating the Zehhaki. They used the orbs to imprison me here to spend eternity under foot of the Simian King, my spirit cursed to roam the jungle.’

  It all finally made sense to Peter. The Simian Queen, represented by the fertility statue, wielded the power of life. The daughter, who he had assumed was a son, bore fire, which could’ve symbolized destruction. The hour glass with the black sand represented the slipping away of time, impending mortality. She wielded the power of death.

  Peter nodded, comprehending. “They buried the orbs in the Zehhaki caverns, far away from where you were imprisoned, to make sure you were never freed.”

  Nazimaa’s thi
n lips curled into a ghastly smile. ‘The orbs waited, protected by powerful magic, for those worthy to wield them again. In my current state, I was unable to reobtain them. The Umazoa, as you call them, emerged as the Zehhaki and Simians fell. They built a shrine over the Zehhaki ruins, completely unaware of what lay beneath and the history behind it. They made futile gestures of human sacrifice to appease their own pathetic deities.’ The demon laughed derisively.

  Peter frowned. “So, you had to wait for us to land on this island to unlock the orbs.”

  “She brought us here,” said Tracey, her face twisted in anger and disgust. “She manipulated us from the start. Everything was to bring us to this moment, here and now.”

  ‘I have no need or desire to harm you or your friends. Use the life orb, set me free, and I will leave you in peace.’

  “She’s lying,” hissed Tracey. “She wants to leave the island.”

  “Don’t listen to her,” spat Mary.

  Peter remembered Mike Deluca’s attempt to summon the support ships out in the surrounding ocean so he could bring Nazimaa off the island. He knew Tracey was right.

  “Where is your body?” He was stalling for time.

  Nazimaa gazed down upon her lifelike likeness. Her expression was that of self-pity and sorrow. ‘Beneath the statue. For too long I have been imprisoned here, wandering the jungle a mere shadow.’

  Peter marveled at her power as a ‘mere shadow.’ If she could breach his dimension and crash a plane as a ghost, he shuddered at what she could do if reawakened in corporeal form.

  ‘No more talk. The time has come. You will awaken my body and release the orb or watch your friends die.’

  Peter nodded. Tracey and Mary protested valiantly, but there was nothing he could do. His mind raced, searching for options, but none presented themselves.

  Nazimaa gestured to the sarcophagus, and two of the Simian mummies toppled it over onto its side, revealing a stone staircase underneath that led into the ground. The lid of the sarcophagus dislodged, and the mummified body of the Simian King spilled out onto the ground. As large as the warrior mummies were, their king was even larger. Peter imagined the power and might such a specimen must’ve possessed in life, but now it was only an empty husk.

  Nazimaa gestured to Peter. ‘After you.’

  Peter shot Tracey and Mary a dubious look, and he descended the staircase. At first it was dark, and he reached out to steady himself, but there was nothing to grab onto. Then, remembering his powers, he focused, causing his chest to glow. It was enough light to navigate the steep staircase successfully.

  When he reached the bottom, Nazimaa slinked past him. Her army of Simian mummies, however, shoved him aside as they filled the burial chamber. Two of them dragged Tracey and Mary along. Fire bowls ignited around them, triggered by their presence, illuminating the room. It was a large room, about one hundred feet across and fifty feet wide. The floor was composed of stone tiles, and the walls were smooth with vast openings on either side midway. The walls bore crude cave paintings depicting the defeat of Nazimaa at the Simian King’s hands. It was simultaneously a tribute to him and a rebuke to her.

  “Boy, your defeat was a big deal to these Simians,” chided Peter. “That’s embarrassing.”

  ‘Silence.’ She pointed a long, gaunt finger at the end of the room.

  At the other end was a sarcophagus, plain and purposefully unadorned, surrounded by several fire bowls. On the wall behind the sarcophagus was a chiseled relief of the same sun deity depicted behind the large statue one level up. Peter realized it was likely this sun deity that maintained these magical fires, if one could believe in such a thing.

  Natural curiosity won out over self-preservation. Peter, studying the paintings on the wall, made to step forward, but Nazimaa glided in front of him, blocking his path. Startled, he met her gaze and tried his best not to wither under its power. “What?”

  She held up an index finger. ‘Wait.’ She gestured for the Simian mummies to step forward across the room, including the ones holding Tracey and Mary. They did as they were commanded. After progressing about twenty feet and stepping on strategically placed pressure plates, spears launched out of well-camouflaged holes in the cave paintings, impaling the two lead mummies. They staggered, clutching at the spear shafts lodged in various parts of their undead anatomy at multiple angles. Undead and undeterred, two others stepped in front of them and continued walking, triggering more pressure plates, causing boulders to roll out of the large openings in the walls, crushing them underneath.

  Peter wasn’t surprised. Of course this particular burial chamber was booby trapped. Whoever entombed this demon here wanted to make sure she remained undisturbed.

  The remainder of the stretch leading to the plain sarcophagus was presided over by a statue of an armored warrior clutching a spear. When the remaining two uncrushed mummies and the two wounded by spears approached, it sprung to life, attacking them. At first, Peter thought it was a live Simian who had remained very still. However, when the mummies pounded on its exterior to no avail, he realized it was indeed a statue, but animated. It made quick work of the mummies, tearing them apart, reducing them to fractured bones and dust. The immediate threats vanquished, the Simian warrior resumed its pose, becoming statuesque once more.

  Nazimaa turned to Peter, Tracey, and Mary. ‘Only the bearer of the life orb can pass the final guardian. Then, you will infuse life into my corpse and bring me back, setting me free.’

  “Don’t do it, Peter,” demanded Mary.

  “She wants to leave this place,” said Tracey. “We can’t allow that.”

  Suddenly, both women clutched their heads and wailed in pain. They fell to their knees, writhing and flailing, crying out.

  “Stop,” said Peter. “Stop it. Release them. I’ll do what you ask.”

  Just like that, the ladies were released from the demon’s vice-like grip. Tracey and Mary panted on the floor, tears streaming down their cheeks. Blood trickled out of their nostrils. Tracey wiped hers on the back of her forearm while Mary sat up, glaring at Nazimaa, seething with rage.

  The demon shadow swept a hand out, gesturing for Peter to progress. Her eyes flashed in menace for a brief moment before returning to their normal illumination.

  Peter stepped tentatively, testing each tile on the floor. As he progressed, careful to avoid the tiles the mummies had triggered, he activated several other pressure plates. He winced, awaiting fast, pointy death, but nothing came. Apparently, the mummies had expended the mechanical traps. Peter carefully circumnavigated the massive boulders that had rolled across crushing two of Nazimaa’s undead Simian minions. As he looked at either side of the room, he saw the massive channels from where the boulders originated.

  At last, he was before the statue guardian, about twenty feet away. By all appearances, it was indeed a statue hewn from a gray stone in great detail. It stood upright, back rigid, clutching a spear. Peter took a deep breath, preparing to summon the power of the life orb, and stepped forward. After a few steps, it opened its eyes and sprang forward, pointing its spear at his face.

  He quickly tapped into the power of the life orb, and his chest responded by glowing brightly. The statue guardian halted, falling just mere centimeters short of impaling Peter through his right eye. He closed his eyes, reaching out around him. He sensed the Simian guardian, its life force registering uniquely. It wasn’t as warm as Tracey or Mary, and it wasn’t as frigid as Nazimaa or the mummies.

  Recognizing the aura emanating from Peter’s chest, it stepped aside, allowing him passage to the sarcophagus. Peter opened his eyes and tentatively proceeded. As he passed the Simian guardian, he studied its face. It wore a stoic expression. Although animated, this statue was not imbued with actual life, but magic for a specific purpose.

  When Peter reached the sarcophagus, he reached out with his power, sensing what lay inside, cold and inert. He felt Nazimaa’s body, its aura vacant from having been abandoned so long ago. On Peter’s rada
r, it registered as another object in the room, almost indistinguishable from the sarcophagus that housed it.

  ‘Bring my body here. Awaken me, and you and your friends shall be spared.’

  Anger flashed inside Peter. She hadn’t spared Jason. Instead, she toyed with his grief and guilt for her own amusement, ripped his life from his body, and cast his empty husk into the void below so that Peter could never revive him. Her offers of mercy carried no meaning for him.

  He closed his eyes and summoned the life orb’s power. He felt it welling up inside of him like a hot spring. He released it on the corpse, infusing it. He felt Nazimaa’s tissues mend and blood begin to coarse through its countless vessels…he felt Nazimaa’s heart kickstart.

  ‘No. What are you doing? Not yet. Bring it back here first.’ The demon’s wordless voice sounded panicked.

  ‘No,’ Peter replied within his mind.

  In his mind’s eye, he saw Nazimaa’s ghost menace Tracey and Mary. ‘I will smite them both!’ However, her presence across the room faded as her spirit was recalled to her body. He both saw and felt her vanish from in front of Tracey and Mary. Suddenly, he sensed her inside the sarcophagus, only it was sealed. He heard a great shriek of fury from within, and the lid started to shift from pounding underneath.

  Peter hadn’t much time. He turned and ran back past the guardian, who briefly animated and then resumed its pose after he was fifteen feet away from it. He rounded the boulders as the sarcophagus lid shifted, stone scraping on stone.

  “Where’d she go?” asked Tracey, looking around.

  “She’s in the sarcophagus,” shouted Peter as he ran to them, “but not for long!”

  Behind him, he heard a smash. Mary pointed in horror, and Tracey waved Peter forward, “Hurry! She’s out!”

  He looked over his shoulder to see Nazimaa sit up in her coffin. Her top half resembled that of a buxom young woman, and her chest glowed with the power of the death orb. As she lifted herself out of the coffin, he saw her lower serpentine half. She was beautiful and horrifying all at once. Not looking where he was going, he nearly crashed into Tracey and Mary.