The Vilcabamba Prophecy: A Nick Randall Novel (5 page)

The boat ground its way
onto the sandy beach, and the workers jumped out and pulled them farther onto
the sand. Sam and her team barely had time to climb out of the boat before two
of the tribe’s people came forward and began to address them.

Still reeling from the
loss they had just suffered, Sam was momentarily taken aback. She glanced over
at Monica, standing by her side, hoping for an explanation. Monica seemed to
understand the dialect.

“He’s saying that this
young man will be your guide to the temple your father was looking for.” Monica
translated what the elder had said, and the young man knelt down in front of
Sam.

“Please tell him to get
up.”

Monica spoke to the young
kneeling man, and he arose to his feet.

“How did they know we
were coming?” Sam was confused by the turn of events, yet again.

The elder spoke to Monica
at some length, gesticulating to the skies with his hands.

“He says the ancestors
spoke to him in a dream. They told him that the daughter of the great protector
was coming to look for him, and that he was in danger. The ancestors told him
to provide this young man here, his son, as their guide and to tell her that
she must hurry if she is to save her father from imminent danger.”

Sam shifted
uncomfortably. “Ask him if I can see the tablets Francisco referred
to—the ones from their ancestors. I need to see if there is anything that
might help me find my father.”

Before
Monica could respond, the elder spoke, again, explaining to Monica that they
had prepared the tablets for Sam.
Without warning, the
elder turned and began walking toward the jungle. The group followed. As they
walked up the beach, the jungle became dense with vines and trees. Only a
narrow, winding walkway offered any relief from the overgrown vegetation. The
group walked for what seemed like a mile, then, without warning, the jungle
opened up and revealed its secrets. A large, cleared opening appeared with a
city of stone sitting in its midst. Large stone structures rose out of the
jungle floor, complete with stone walkways and irrigation channels. Sam froze
in awe, her eyes surveying the scene in disbelief. The elder who had met them
at the boat did not hesitate. He continued to walk at a brisk pace toward a
large structure located in the center of the city. Hundreds of people milled
about, living their daily lives right in front of the archaeologist.

How
in the world hasn’t this city been seen by planes or satellites passing
overhead?
Sam wondered. The questions she had for the
tribespeople
were numerous, but there would be time for
that later. She needed to find her dad.

The elder ascended the
steps to the large temple with the University team right behind him. He led
them through the entryway. Sam couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the
artwork. Perfectly sculpted statues lined the walls, and beautiful frescos
adorned the ceilings. She was like a kid in a candy store!
So
many questions, but no time to ask them.
The elder strode with a
purpose, straight to the tablet room. Perched high upon marble columns, looking
like sentinels standing guard to some unknown treasure, were large stone
tablets. At the very end of the row, the last column was broken, the top sheared
off. The elder motioned to them as if inviting Sam to take a look. Sam walked
up to the first tablet. There was strange writing on them that she had never
seen before. Sam puzzled at the writing for a moment more and then remembered
something. She had seen the writing before, but not in a textbook or library.
She opened her backpack and removed her father’s notebook. Flipping through the
pages, she scanned them for something familiar. It had to be here … yes! Most
of the symbols on the tablet were in her father’s book, and he had deciphered
them. She compared the symbols on the tablet with the translations in her
father’s journal. Pieces of the inscription were clear, but she was unable to
translate the tablets entirely.

“What do they say?”
Monica asked in a small voice.

“The tablets tell the
story of the ancient ancestors being visited by the Great One who came from the
heavens. The Great One was taken to meet the king of the tribe who announced
that his first daughter would marry him, and bring peace and prosperity to the
people. I can’t quite make out this next part, but I think it says something
about teaching the people skills they didn’t previously possess.” Sam paused,
her eyes narrowing as she tried to decipher the ancient text. She tilted her head
as if she was having a hard time grasping what she was reading.

“Well?”

“I’m not sure I’m
translating this correctly, but I think it’s referring to an underground city
named
Vilcabamba
and something important that’s
located there.” Sam ran a finger over one symbol repeatedly. “I don’t think
that can be what this means.”

“What does it say?”

Finally, after several
seconds of pondering, Sam said, “There are still too many symbols that I don’t
understand, but it seems to talk about a jungle city and its inhabitants. If
I’m reading this correctly, that city is known as
Paititi
.
Then it says something about the Great One returning to his resting place among
the stars.”

Sam was stupefied by what
she had read. She realized at once that she was standing in the middle of
Paititi
, but wondered what its connection was to
Vilcabamba
. Whatever it was, her father must have gone
searching for it when he went missing. But how did he know where to find it?
Sam searched the tablets again, scouring for any clue she might have missed,
but there was nothing that explained the whereabouts of
Vilcabamba
.
She then checked her father’s journal, but found nothing there, either. Then,
like a bolt from the blue, she realized that to keep the location of the
underground city hidden, the directions must have been passed down by word of
mouth. She felt a heavy gaze upon her, and realized, for the first time since
she had glanced at the tablets, that the elder was standing beside her. Was she
imagining it, or did his face hide the faintest of grins?

They walked back into the
entryway where the rest of the group waited. “So, what did you find?”
Anselmo
asked.

“I understand what my
father was looking for and where he went. We need to leave, immediately.
Monica, can you ask the elder how long it will take to get to the underground
city?”

“Two days. Our guide told
me right before you and the elder came out of the Tablet Room,” Monica replied.

It’s
as if these people know what we’re going to ask even before we know to ask it
,
Sam thought. She had a strange feeling that there was more to this than she
realized. She wondered if her dad already knew.

CHAPTER NINE

“How are you doing, buddy?” Phil asked his
friend, who was obviously in pain.

“Been better.” Mike
grimaced. “Do you think Dr. R has found anything yet?”

“He’ll come through, he
always does.”

Mike nodded. He had the
utmost confidence in their
mentor which
was something
he couldn’t say about most of the people in his life. Born and raised in one of
the rougher sections of South Boston, or
Southie
, as
the locals called it, Mike was used to having to rely on himself. Many of the
kids he had grown up with were either dead or in jail, but not Mike. He was a
smart neighborhood kid who understood that education was his ticket to a better
life. When he met Dr. Randall as an undergraduate student, he had immediately
liked him. The professor had been one of the first people to see something
special in Mike and had taken Mike under his wing.

When the professor came
to him that day at school with a crooked smile and offered Mike a stipend to be
one of his paid assistants, Mike had jumped at the chance. He wasn’t sure about
Dr. Randall’s other graduate assistant, though. Mike initially saw Phil as a
spoiled, arrogant, rich kid who wore designer clothes, had the newest cell
phone and drove a brand new Jeep Wrangler. In other words, as far as outward
appearances were concerned, Phil was the exact opposite of Mike. Slowly though,
the two had gotten to know each other and bonded over fieldwork with the professor.
Eventually, Mike came to realize that Phil was simply a goofy, fun-loving guy
who loved working for Dr. Randall as much as he did. Phil didn’t have a mean
bone in his body, and the two eventually became best friends. In fact, Mike saw
Phil as the brother he never had and, aside from Dr. Randall, there was no one
in the world he trusted more.

A deafening blast broke
the silence, its suddenness taking them both by surprise, as rock, dirt and
light simultaneously washed over them. Men dressed in military garb rappelled
the short distance to the floor of the cavern and began closing in on the two
students, momentarily frozen in disbelief. . Upon realizing the eminent danger,
Phil responded first, leaping to his feet, in an attempt to bravely protect his
friend from the approaching menace. He was rewarded with the blunt force of a
hardened rubber heel to the abdomen. He buckled over in pain, unable to catch
his breath and stumbled backward against the rock wall.

The mercenary turned his
attention to Mike, shining a bright beam of light directly into his
light-sensitive eyes. Mike recoiled in pain, turning his head and holding up
his left hand to block it from his face. This sudden, involuntary movement cost
him dearly; however, as he jerked his broken leg to the side, causing the pain
to radiate
up
his body. Mike rolled into a ball,
cursing his broken leg. As he writhed in pain, he heard the sound of heavy
military boots approaching him and felt the warm breath of a large figure
hovering above. Without warning, a huge gloved hand lifted him from the floor
by the collar of his shirt. The sudden straightening of his broken leg
registered immediately in the pain center of his brain, and Mike howled in
agony.

“Where is Dr. Randall?” a
gruff voice asked angrily.

“I don’t know,” was all
Mike could manage, his body screaming in pain. The large man set him back on
the ground, lifted a heavy booted foot, and placed it squarely on the middle of
now broken and protruding bone. It was all Mike could do not to lose consciousness
from the pain.

“Where is Dr. Randall?”
It was more of a growl than a question.

“He’s gone. We don’t know
where he is. He left a few of hours ago, and we haven’t seen him since.” Phil
was on his feet, but was still crouched over, hands on his knees, as he tried
to regain his breath. “We fell through the floor and tried walking, but Mike
couldn’t make it, so Dr. Randall left us some supplies and went looking for help.
I swear that’s all we know.”

The solider walked over
to Phil and pummeled the graduate student to the ground with the butt of his
gun, Phil’s nose splattering to bits in the process. Phil lay on the ground
unable to defend himself, wondering if he was about to die. Suddenly, another voice
sounded from the darkness.

“What have they told you,
Lieutenant?”

“Captain, they said that
Dr. Randall left them a couple of hours ago searching for help.”

The Captain walked over
to Phil and bent down over the cowering graduate student.

“Trust me, it could have
been worse.” The Captain said, with a tinge of sadistic joy in his voice. He
barked orders to his men to take the one with the broken leg back to their base
camp, but he had other plans for Phil. “You’re coming with us,” he snarled.
“And in case you get any ideas, I want you to know that all I have to do is
give the order and the Lieutenant will finish the job he started before I got
here.”

The Captain stood up to
face the Lieutenant. “Contact Colonel
Ackers
and let
him know we have the graduate assistants and are in pursuit of Randall,” he
ordered.

“Yes sir, Captain
Middleton!”

Granger grabbed Phil by
the back of his collar and dragged him to his feet while two of the other men
hauled Mike back into the upper chamber. Phil watched as his friend disappeared
through the opening, wondering if he would ever see him again. A boot in the
back interrupted his thoughts. Clearly his captors wanted him to walk in the
direction that Dr. Randall had gone.