Inca Kings

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Time passed and the day grew colder. Kinimaka broke out the supplies and handed food around. The villagers regarded them all with suspicion, though some of the braver ones — mostly the very young — approached with interest on sighting the snacks until their parents pulled them back. Drake sent smiles all around and wished he could at least part-communicate. The hand gestures he tried just didn’t work. The villagers kept their distance.

The woman whom they had seen and heard crying grew quiet after a while, and they saw nothing of her. The deep silence that covered Kimbiri drilled down to their souls, filling them with wonder. The sky was huge and empty save for clouds; the hills and mountains free of human interference and fiercely individual.

Brynn returned with a man and a woman in tow. The man was old and walked with a limp, the woman almost his age, still smiling at the people she passed despite clearly suppressing a hurt. With difficulty she faced Mai and Drake and offered them a smile.

“We are pleased to meet you.”

Mai looked between the man and woman. “We are soldiers and not blessed with manners. We are also looking for someone and short of time. If we can help you, please let us know.”

Drake saw what he assumed were the heads of the village, both nod in time. Brynn would already have passed on the previous conversation. It made no sense to backtrack.

“I am Emilio,” the man said, speaking through Brynn’s translation. “This is my wife, Clareta. We speak a little English, but it is easier to let Brynn speak for us now. You understand?”

Mai nodded. “Of course.”

“Until recently, we would not have spoken so openly to outsiders,” Brynn explained. “We are a village of the Andes and we happily keep our distance. Not because we have to. Do you understand that?”

“I do,” Mai said, and Drake agreed.

“But we have already broken our silence. We have already admitted we need help. That makes this easier and respectable and right. I know you understand. Two weeks ago we visited Cusco, and then again one week ago. Before that, twice more. I do not use the word desperate, but…” She looked away to the mountains as if seeking inspiration or courage.

Mai sat unmoving. “Why visit Cusco?”

“In the night they come. They snort and snuffle around our walls. They breathe noisily against our windows. They slaughter our livestock for fun and bathe in blood. They walk the dark streets of our village and mate and cry and cackle there…” Brynn held her breath for a moment, brimming with emotion. “And then they take one of us. Man or woman. They take one away and we never see them again.”

“They?” Mai asked first. “Who are they?”

Brynn’s face was ashen, her eyes terrified. “Monsters.”

Drake gave the area an involuntary double-check. “When you say monsters?”

Brynn shuddered. “I speak good English,” she said. “I know what I mean.”

Drake thought about asking for a description, but saw how fearful the woman was and decided to return to that particular subject later. “And you went to Cusco for help to tackle the problem?”

“Yes, of course! We swallowed our pride and our privacy and went to the city. It was after the second night that we reported it. They did not laugh at us; they did not suspect us. Instead, they did nothing at all. Four times we have journeyed there and four times they have ignored us. Now… last night they came again. What do we do?”

Brynn’s last comment was an outburst of despair. Recognizing that, almost immediately she cleared her throat and pulled her coat tighter, looking away.

“I am sorry,” she said.

“You have no reason to be,” Mai said.

Drake reined in the anger. “You reported each incident to the police and they did nothing?”

“I do not know the Cusco police,” Brynn said. “Maybe they investigate. But we do not see them and every time we go it is same man. And they have no previous reports on file. It is as if… as if they do not care.”

“How many people taken?” Kinimaka now came forward and knelt before Brynn.

“Six.” Brynn forced out the word through a raw throat.

“Over how long?”

“Six weeks,” Brynn said. “And every night we fear.”

“Do you have any clues,” Hayden asked, “where the monsters come from? Where they take your people?”

“Most of us… most of us are so scared.” Brynn cried a little. “That… that we hide underneath our beds or cower in closets. Most of us… can’t take not knowing who they will come for next.”

Mai didn’t hesitate, but laid a hand on Brynn’s shoulder. “There is no shame in being scared.”

“Some of the men… they watch through high windows or the eaves. They see a little of what happens in the dark. They see naked, black-smeared, odd shapes. No features. They see monsters and even they are afraid.”

“And they do not act?” Smyth said, for once careful to keep emotion out of his voice.

“Not against so many. They count hundreds.”

Drake was shocked. “That many?” He covered his confusion and a dozen questions by nodding at Mai.

“And when they leave they go that way.” Brynn nodded straight at the mountains with their winding passes. “They take our people there and not one has returned.”

Drake stared at Hayden. “You think the cops are paid off?”

“Either that or criminally lazy.”

Kinimaka added a new disquiet. “Are there other villages in the area?”

Brynn nodded. “Nuno. Quillabiri.”

“Do nightmares follow us around?” Yorgi asked. “We come here to find bad seller of Inca relics and find even worse. I do think we are cursed.”

“Speak for yourself, Yogi,” Alicia said. “I broke my curse.”

Mai didn’t react; concentrating all her focus on Brynn, she leaned over and took the woman’s hand whilst staring the village leaders right in the eyes.

“If you want our help,” she said. “You have it.”

Smyth groaned.

Drake couldn’t help but wonder what kind of hell they’d just walked slap-bang into.