The Vilcabamba Prophecy: A Nick Randall Novel (13 page)

“Phil,
when I give you the word,
follow
me.”

“What?”

“Ready
… go!”

Sam
popped up from their hiding place and sprinted toward the gunfire on the far
end of the cavern. Phil, bewildered, followed as closely as he could. Bullets
whizzed by them as they ran and Sam felt a small searing heat near her right shoulder
blade, but didn’t pause to investigate. Stopping meant certain death, and she
wasn’t ready to give up yet. They ran for what seemed like an eternity, the
combination of fear, exertion and dust draining their lungs of air. Sam felt
like her chest was caught in a vise, squeezing the oxygen out of her, but she
didn’t break stride.
Run or die
were
the words that kept flashing through her mind.

She
sensed a bullet whiz by right behind her.

 
“Sam!”

Sam
stopped suddenly, almost falling over her feet, and turned, sensing that
something was wrong. “Phil, where are you?”

Writhing
on the floor of the cavern in terrible pain, Phil could barely speak. Sam
nearly tripped over him in the darkness. Without speaking another word, she
reached out and yanked him to his feet, threw his left arm behind her neck, and
carried him to the safety of the side tunnel. Upon turning the corner, the two
archaeologists slumped their backs against the cold, hard wall.

Phil
was clearly in pain, and his breathing was labored. Sam reached into her pocket
and found her keychain with a single LED light fastened to the loop. “Where are
you hit, Phil?”

“Right
… side … chest.”

Sam
could see the entry wound and unbuttoned Phil’s shirt to reveal a large,
circular bloody indentation below his right breast. Phil wasn’t bleeding badly,
but he couldn’t breathe. The bullet had pierced his right lung, leaving him
virtually unable to walk.

“Sam
…
go
without me.”

Tears
welling in her eyes, Sam replied through gritted teeth, “I’m not leaving you.”
Her body was beaten and exhausted from a lack of sleep, and the physical
punishment dealt by her captors, but she refused to leave him here to die.
Summoning strength from somewhere deep in the recesses of her soul, she lifted
Phil onto her shoulder again and the two trudged forward into the bowels of
dark cavern.

*
* * *

In another tunnel,
Randall sat quietly, waiting. Having been brought along by
Kristoph
and his men, Randall had been instructed to sit quietly while
Kristoph’s
mercenaries dealt with
Dumond
.
Now, waiting in the darkness while the gun battle raged, Randall swore he heard
his daughter’s voice. Seeing the two shadowy figures running for the side
tunnel made his heart jump at the thought that Sam might be alive. Randall
estimated that the tunnel was about 50 yards to his right and down the main
shaft of the tunnel, right where the most brutal part of the battle was raging.
Making a break for it was most certainly suicidal, but he had little choice, if
he wanted to see Sam again. The chaos of the gun battle was the perfect
distraction. Except for the one guard, nearby, no one was paying attention to
him. Randall shuffled his feet on the ground around him, until he finally found
what he was looking for. He would have to time this perfectly for his plan to
work. After a couple of minutes, the opportunity presented itself. A stray
bullet ricocheted several feet above their heads, close enough that Randall
dropped to the floor as if dodging it in fear. The guard, sensing his drop,
reached down and grabbed him by the back of his collar, hauling him back up to
his feet. Randall had had just enough time to grab the fist-sized rock.

Feigning
a loss of balance, Randall successfully goaded the guard into reaching over in
an attempt to catch him as he fell. Now with the side of his head exposed,
Randall swung the rock as hard as he could. The guard, sensing the impending
blow, reached up with his left hand just in time to deflect Randall’s hand
enough to make it a glancing blow. Still, the hit was strong enough to cause
the guard to stagger backward. Randall, realizing that he had stunned the
guard, but not enough to make a break for it, launched himself at the mercenary
like a linebacker punching through an offensive line. He hit the guard squarely
in his chest with his shoulder blade, driving him back. The guard’s arms
flailed wildly, striking blows on the top of Randall’s head in a vain attempt
to defend himself from his attacker.

Catching
himself, the guard managed to regain his balance, stopping his rearward progression.
Now, in a much stronger position to defend himself, the guard, hands clasped
together above his head, whipped a crippling blow down upon Randall’s
forehead.
 
Randall heard the
snapping sound of his nose breaking. Although he was in excruciating pain,
Randall flung both forearms upward, under the chin of his captor, driving his
head backward until he felt and heard the sound he hoped for: the sound of the
mercenary’s head hitting solid rock, the sickening cracking sound of a
shattering egg as it impacted the wall. The mercenary fell to the ground limply
as Randall staggered back. Seeing the man go down, Randall made a break for the
tunnel on the right.

Pumping
his legs as quickly as he could, it seemed as if Randall was running in slow
motion. Just like in a dream, the harder he ran, the slower he seemed to move.
As he looked at his intended destination, it seemed impossibly out of reach.
Randall could feel every heartbeat and could taste the blood, sweat, and dust coating
the inside of his mouth.

Putting
his head down, he trudged forward, dodging bullets and bits of rocky debris as
he ran. But his attempt to escape did not go unnoticed. Out of the corner of
his eye, illuminated by the bursts of fire from the automatic weapons, Randall
saw a solitary figure drop to one knee and raise his weapon directly at him.
Somehow he knew it was Middleton. Through the muzzle flashes, he could see the
other man estimating his speed and carefully aiming his gun so that his shot
would lead the Professor just enough for the bullet to hit him squarely in his
body. The wall above Randall’s head exploded with a force that sent him
sprawling backward onto the ground. Randall regained his focus just in time to
see a shoebox-sized rock tumbling directly toward him. Quickly, he rolled to
his right as the boulder smashed into the ground where his torso had been just
seconds earlier.

Rising
to his feet, he resumed his mad dash for the tunnel, not realizing that the
explosion had knocked him off course, saving his life. Glancing in Middleton’s
direction, Randall could see him reloading his weapon and once again taking
aim. Randall was still several yards from reaching the tunnel. He could sense
Middleton looking through the sight of his assault rifle and knew he would not
miss again. Randall heard the sound of a gun blast coming from Middleton’s
direction and winced uncontrollably. A moment later he reached the entrance to
the tunnel. Somehow, Middleton had missed.

As
he rounded the corner of the tunnel, Randall fell to the ground in a heap. His
oxygen-deprived lungs burned with such intensity that he felt as if they had
burst into flames within the cavity of his chest. Slowly, his breathing became
more normal, allowing him to drag himself to his feet again. He had to find out
if in fact he had seen Sam running in this direction only minutes earlier.

*
* * *

It was slow going
for Sam and Phil, as she tried to carry their combined weight down the dark
tunnel. Phil’s breathing was becoming more labored and his body was limper than
it had been at the tunnel entrance. Sam realized that if she didn’t find him
medical help soon, he wouldn’t make it. She was also exhausted and knew that
she had to stop and take a short rest. She leaned over and gently set Phil on
the cold floor of the cavern, struggling to keep her balance. Sam then lowered
herself to the floor next to Phil and held his head while she tried to regain
her strength. The two were engulfed by the silence and the enormity of the
darkness that surrounded them. Aside from the small LED light Sam held, the
tunnel was pitch black and the only audible sound was the sound of their
breathing.

For
a moment, Sam allowed the darkness and quiet to sweep over her as she tried to
relax her body. But she heard more than the sound of their breathing. There was
something else. Sam closed her eyes tightly and listened. There was another
sound so faint that she could barely detect it. Like a small child playing
hide-n-go seek, Sam held her breath so she could listen with greater
sensitivity. Then she heard a sound that immediately filled her with dread.
Someone was coming. Sam could hear the repetitive and unrelenting cadence of
boot steps hitting the ground. Her eyes popped open and she wrestled with Phil,
pulling him to his feet. She wasn’t going to come this far just to let one of
those bastards get them.

She
stumbled forward with Phil, dragging the nearly incoherent graduate student
another ten yards, but she could still hear the footfalls getting closer. She
scanned the area with her feeble little light, looking for anything that might
help defend them. Seeing a small opening ahead, around a curve in the side of
the tunnel, she willed the two of them forward. The opening was large enough to
fit one of them, and Sam gently set her friend into the crevice. Their pursuer
was getting closer now; she didn’t have much time. She needed a weapon. Sam
dropped to her hands and knees, hoping to find something. At last, she settled
on a large rock and quickly ran to the wall opposite Phil. Her strategy was simple.
She would wait for her attacker to round the curve, hoping that he would see
the opening and go to investigate it. She would then have a split second to
drive the rock into the back of his head and hopefully knock him unconscious.
Turning off her light Sam waited in the darkness. She could hear the footsteps
getting louder and then begin to slow. She raised the rock and prepared to
strike.

*
* * *

In the beam of his
flashlight, Randall could see a small fissure in the side of the tunnel in
front of him. It looked like something was inside the opening, and he slowed as
he approached it, shining his light directly into it. As he approached, it
became evident that a person was inside the crevice, but was not moving. He
drew closer, moving slowly and carefully, unsure if he was approaching a trap.
Moving to within several feet of the opening, Randall swung his light toward
the wall opposite the opening just as a figure leapt out at him, swinging a
large rock with deadly menace. He had time to utter one word. “Sam!”

She
froze, recognizing the voice instantly. “Dad?”

“It’s
me, sweetheart, I found you!”

The
two embraced, Randall’s arms engulfing his daughter in a bear hug. “I thought
you were dead. Is it really you?” Sam said, tears welling in her eyes.

“It’s
me Sam, thank God you’re alright. I thought for sure I would never see you
again, but then I heard you call Phil’s name in the cavern, and I knew it was
you. Are you hurt?”

“I’m
fine, but Phil was shot in the chest. He’s dying, Dad, and we need to get him
help quickly.”

Realizing
that the body in the opening was Phil, Randall quickly turned his light toward
the opening again and gently retrieved his graduate student. Laying him on the
floor of the tunnel, Randall examined his student’s condition. He had a rapid,
weak, pulse and his skin was cold and clammy. Randall shined the light near
Phil’s face and could see that he was very pale, and his breathing was shallow
and rapid. Phil was showing all the signs of acute hemorrhagic shock, and
Randall knew that if they didn’t get him medical attention soon, his
cardiovascular system itself would become damaged and deteriorate to the point
of death.

“You’re
right, we need to get Phil out of here.”

Chapter twenty-one

The firefight had been brutal with both
sides suffering severe casualties. But it wasn’t over, yet. Like two vicious
dogs locked in mortal combat, both sides took defensive positions, trying to
assess their damage as bullets continued to fly.
Dumond’s
team had taken the worst of the battle, cut in half by the surprise attack and
losing Captain Middleton, who had taken a round to the side of his head while
trying to shoot Randall as he escaped down the tunnel.
Ackers
and his men had to use the bodies of their fallen comrades as shields against
the withering attack.
Kristoph’s
team also suffered
casualties, but worse, they had lost Randall.

“Captain, send men to
follow Randall and his daughter, find them, and bring them back to me,”
Kristoph
ordered.

“Yes, sir,” said Captain
Sauder, who dispatched four men in search of the Professor and his daughter.

Kristoph
knew that he finally had
Dumond
where he wanted him.
He and his team of mercenaries were pinned down across the chasm with little
cover to protect them and even less chance of escaping unharmed. Having seen
the tunnel to the right of them, two of
Kristoph’s
men now had that route covered. They also had a clear view and control of the
tunnel to the left. Any of
Dumond’s
men attempting to
make a break for either exit would have to traverse a 20-yard-wide open span
with
Kristoph’s
men’s guns trained on them. It would
be suicide, and
Kristoph
would be happy to grant them
their wish. In his near euphoric state,
Kristoph
had not noticed that Gerhardt had moved closer to him
,
gun in hand
. When he heard the pistol cock,
Kristoph
turned his head to see that his friend had a 9 mm
pistol pointed at his nose.

“What are you doing,
Gerhardt?”

“Tell your men to lower
their weapons,” Gerhardt replied.

“I don’t understand.”

“Tell them now,
Kristoph
!”

“Captain, tell your men to
lower their weapons,”
Kristoph
ordered.

“But, sir!” the captain
replied.

“Now Captain!”

“Men, lower your
weapons,” Sauder ordered.

Dumond
slowly and carefully made his way over to
Kristoph
,
flanked by
Ackers
and his men, who had already begun
disarming
Kristoph’s
people. The look on
Kristoph’s
face was utter bewilderment at the turn of
events unfolding before him. Once again,
Dumond
wore
the same expression that he’d had on his face many years ago in Finland, but
this time,
Kristoph
realized he would never again see
that look. Slowly, he turned to face the man who had been his closest confidant
for so many years. Many thoughts raced through his mind as he looked upon his
own personal Judas, but only one word truly described his feelings: betrayal.

“How could you do this to
me, after all the years we‘ve worked together?”

“You mean after years of
listening to you ranting and raving about idiotic nonsense? Years of being
ordered about like a small child or a dullard?” Gerhardt replied.

“You were always well compensated
for your work,”
Kristoph
said.

“Don’t take it
personally,
Kristoph
,
it’s
simply business. My offer was better than yours,”
Dumond
said, raising a pistol to
Kristoph’s
head and firing
at point blank range. “Dispose of the others.”

“Your orders, Mr.
Dumond
?” asked
Ackers
.

“Follow Randall and his
daughter into the tunnel,”
Dumond
replied, reaching
down to take the medallion from
Kristoph’s
dead
hands. “Pity, it seems he didn’t want to let this go.

* * * *

Randall had taken up the task of carrying
Phil through the dark, winding tunnels. He could plainly see that his daughter
was exhausted, but, as had always been the case with Sam, she wouldn’t dare
show outward signs of weakness. They moved with a quickness that bordered on
franticness, realizing that both groups of mercenaries were only a short
distance away and, therefore, death followed closely.

As they moved through the
dark in tomblike silence, other passageways crisscrossed their tunnel at
semi-regular intervals. The underground caverns were a web-like collection of
passageways, presenting an almost infinite number of possibilities. This fact
was at once comforting and disturbing at the same time. It meant it would be
more difficult for
Dumond
,
Kristoph
and their men to follow them, but also that Randall, Samantha and Phil could
become hopelessly lost. This possibility meant almost certain death for Phil in
his condition, so they had decided that they would travel along the same path
and hope that it led to … what exactly? This was the unspoken question on
Randall’s mind. Was he hoping that he had actually found the underground city
and that his vision had not been a hallucination?

“I need to take a quick
breather,” Randall said, gently setting Phil down. He then took his light and
set it on a rock, illuminating a patch of ground for them to sit on.

Sam sat down next to him
and, judging by the way she was fiddling with her hair, she was thinking about
something, but wasn’t sure if she wanted to share it with him. Randall walked
over to his daughter and sat down next to her.

“What’s on your mind,
sweetheart?”

Sam took a deep breath
and let out a long sigh.

“I’m sorry, Dad. Sorry
I’ve pushed you away for so long. Losing Mom was hard on me, and I couldn’t
help but blame you. There were so many times I wanted to pick up the phone and
call you. It’s just that you were so focused on this theory, and I felt like
you were choosing your research over us.”

“I’m the one that owes
you an apology. You’re right about my research taking over my life. I just
couldn’t let it go. I was so damned angry at the way some of my colleagues
treated me that I let it consume me. People who I thought were my friends just
turned on me, and I felt like I had to prove to them and myself, that I wasn’t
crazy. Looking back, it just wasn’t worth it. If I had known what it was going
to do to our family, I would have dropped it.”

Sam leaned into her dad
and sobbed, softly.

“Losing your mother
nearly killed me and knowing that I hurt you was almost more than I could take.
You and your brother are the two most important people in my life, and I want
you to know that I will never let anything come between us again.”

Randall pulled his
daughter closer and held her as she cried.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,
we’re together, again, and that’s all that matters now.”

After a short while, she
looked up at him, wiping her eyes.

“The lost city, Dad …
Francisco told me what you’re looking for. He told me about the advanced
culture that’s supposed to live there. It’s simply not possible that there has
been an undiscovered civilization living for thousands of years underground. At
some point they would have come into contact with the outside world.”

Randall nodded. It wasn’t
the first time he had heard this line of reasoning.

“Francisco also told me
about their advanced technology. They have electricity? Really?”

Randall smiled. “I know
it sounds crazy, kiddo, but I’ve found too much proof to think that this is
just a legend. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t entirely convinced until we
found the medallion.”

“Okay, I’ll give you
that. The medallion is an amazing artifact, and the tablets seem to confirm
what you’re saying. I can understand how you could believe this, to a point,
but Dad, we’re scientists. The idea that there’s an underground city with
advanced technology that is somehow related to the tribe in the jungle … that’s
a bit hard to swallow. If it’s true, why don’t the jungle people possess the
same technology?”

“How much did Francisco
tell you?”

“Pretty much what I’ve
told you. Why?”

“There’s more to the story.
Are you familiar with the creation story of the tribe?”

“No.”

“
Yupanqui
is the descendent of
Ayar
Manco
,
a figure most historians believe is only a legend. He’s the last great leader
of a tribe that is waiting for the great reunification with the people of the
underground city,
Vilcabamba
. The thing is, the
historians got the story wrong. Backwards actually.”

“What do you mean?”

“Their theory talks about
the way
Ayar
Manco
tricked
his brother
Ayar
Cachi
into
returning to the sacred cave to retrieve an important artifact. In the process,
Ayar
Cachi
was trapped
inside the cave, while
Ayar
Manco
and his siblings founded the civilization in the valley. But that’s not the
true story. What actually happened was that
Ayar
Manco
and his supporters were kicked out of the
Vilcabamba
for defying
Ayar
Cachi
and trying to rebel.”

Randall went on to
explain, in detail, the legend that
Yupanqui
had
shared with him including how the ancient ancestors of the tribe were, in fact,
descendants of humans who had interbred with visitors from the sky. He
explained that these ancient travelers had landed in Peru thousands of years
ago as part of an interstellar research project sent to earth, because of the
relative similarities in our anatomies and the trajectory of our history. Due
to the distance and time taken to travel to Earth, the alien civilization had
sent visitors who stayed on the planet semi-permanently and created a hidden
civilization. They used
Vilcabamba
as a base from
which they could monitor human development.

Sam listened with rapt
attention. A few days earlier, her father’s story would have seemed like a
child’s fantasy run amok, but now, she wasn’t so sure. “What about the tribe in
the jungle? Why don’t they have the same technology as the underground dwellers?”

“Remember the legend I
just told you about? The group you met in the jungle is comprised of the
ancestors of the group that was kicked out of
Vilcabamba
for rebelling against their leaders. Since they were related, the leaders of
Vilcabamba
still protected and looked after them and even
helped them build their city.”

“But they didn’t share
all of their knowledge,” Sam said.

“Right. Then, over time,
the jungle dwellers came into contact with more humans, and there was more
interbreeding as the tribe continued to grow. Fast forward to modern times, and
now these two groups are waiting to be reunited, but they’re missing something
they need.”

“The medallion!” Sam
said.

“Yep, the medallion. I
had planned to travel to
Vilcabamba
, speak to the
inhabitants, and then bring the medallion back to them, later.”

“Why didn’t you just
bring the medallion with you on this trip?”

Randall shrugged.
“Self-preservation, I guess. I figured that if these legends were all true, and
I ran into trouble with the residents of
Vilcabamba
,
having the medallion stored somewhere else would give me a bargaining chip.”

Sam sat back and shook
her head. It was too much for her to process, but now some of the missing
information on the tablets made sense. The Silver Eagle might have been a
reference to the craft that the Great One traveled in when he visited the
people in the jungle, and now she understood the relationship between
Paititi
and
Vilcabamba
.

After a moment of
silence, Randall said, “I’ve seen it, Sam, I think.”