Inca Kings

CHAPTER TWELVE

Splitting forces, especially when the coming night held such monstrous promise, was never a good idea, but Drake backed Hayden when she suggested it. The nearest village to Kimbiri — Nuno — was only a thirty-minute walk to the south and a potential target for some kind of raid tonight. They couldn’t be certain until they talked to the villagers and decided to leave four in Kimbiri and send three to Nuno.

Hayden found herself wanting to walk alone whilst Drake and Alicia passed the time with a little harmless banter. This worked at first, but she knew almost immediately that she needed company. Her own thoughts were as dark and deep as mountains at night, and as confusing as their myriad passes. And just as dangerous.

Why did she always destroy relationships? In the heat of battle, she’d told Mano how she felt, and in no uncertain terms, wrecking their bond, but it had been her simple desire for space that caused the outbursts. Not a fundamental need to be rid of the Hawaiian.

For years now, he had been there. Every battle, every conversation; every goddamn bullet. At her side — a shadow. She feared now that she’d used his moral stance to push him away, citing that she knew better — for the good of the nation. Maybe she was right, maybe he was right; it didn’t matter. What mattered was how they both came out of it.

As for Mano, she had no idea. She didn’t deserve to know where he was. And she still needed her own space, needed to find something. Trailing along these mountain roads inspired a much-needed sense of solitude, and she soon fancied that Drake and Alicia were leaving her alone on purpose. They knew a little of her relationship track record, which was not good. They didn’t know it all — which was better. Suffice to say, it was the same old story.

More breakages than a boxful of kids’ toys.

The cool air surrounded her, the vast mountain range standing still and ancient, one of earth’s extraordinary sanctuaries. One could say anything to these silent sentinels and never be judged. One could stare into their primeval, hushed immensity and, for a few moments, slough off every problem and worry you ever acquired.

They walked for a while, Hayden twisting and turning through past and present and an odd kind of future where every single moment was a shard of uncertainty.

“Cheer up, love,” Drake interrupted her. “Could be worse. You could be Alicia.”

“Fuck off, Drakey.”

Hayden smiled, thinking: How the hell do they do it? They both must have fears, worries, regrets. Compartmentalization worked to a certain point, yes. But it could hardly deal with the terrors they’d faced and put down, the personal ordeals they went through every week.

It could be worse.

Sure. It could. Of that she had no doubt. Of them all only Dahl had children. Only Dahl was married. Shit, that guy was fucking superhuman.

And deserved better than his current lot. But who knew, maybe it would all come around. She saw they had been walking twenty minutes and looked ahead to where the village should be.

“Just in the lee of that mountain?”

“Yeah. Not quite where I’d put my village, but I guess there’s a reason.”

“To keep the weather off?” Alicia speculated.

“An avalanche would soon change all that.” Drake motioned at the snow high above.

“Always an answer.”

“It comes with intelligence and free thinking.”

“Probably. But I’m sure Yorkshire was excluded when those options were offered.”

Drake stared. “Who are you? Dahl?”

“Yeah, sorry. Been around you lot too long.”

The Yorkshireman laid a hand on her forearm. “And staying around.”

Alicia offered a smile, their exchange something Hayden had once never thought possible. Alicia had always been so flighty, so intensely focused on the next horizon and the next job. Somehow, she’d found a kind of peace. And embraced it.

Hayden sighed inwardly and spotted the jumbled huddle of homes up ahead. The trail dipped and then ran along flat ground for a while, green swathes to either side, before splitting among the houses and ending up against the mountain. Hayden had already seen young men watching them, and walked easily, steadily, offering no threat to these people.

The villagers back in Kimbiri had told them that one of the elders spoke decent English and the younger people could get by, so they were reasonably confident their questions would be understood. They were not welcomed along the way, even when they started to pass among the houses. People stood around or rose from their work to watch the newcomers. Hooded eyes studied them and then met with the next pair. A scraping of digging tools made Hayden’s ears prick and sent her gaze to the right.

Two men stood atop a short slope, holding a pitchfork and a spade.

Drake nodded at the nearest youth. “We’re here to help. Do you speak English?”

So far, no real sign that these people were being terrorized. Hayden began to think maybe they’d wasted their time by coming here. They should have dealt with what they knew rather than second guess and spread their resources. But it stood to reason that Kimbiri wouldn’t be the only village affected.

Alicia half-turned. “Pretty soon,” she muttered. “We’re gonna walk headfirst into the mountain. Any ideas?”

Drake grinned. “We could ask them to take us to their leader.”

“They’re not aliens. They’re Incas.”

“They’re not friggin’ Incas either.” Hayden looked around. “Surely someone—”

“What is it that you want?” A man stepped out of a house up ahead. He was tall, gray-haired and slightly disheveled, as if he’d just thrown his clothes on. He carried a knobbly stick to help him walk, and scratched irritably at a ragged beard. He squinted hard at the newcomers.

“What?” he asked again before they could get a word out.

“We come from Kimbiri,” Hayden explained. “Brynn sent us, the teacher? And Emilio and Clareta — the elders? We would like to help.”

The old man spat into the muddy road. “Can you plant vegetables?”

Alicia shrugged. “If by plant you mean put headfirst down in the dirt, then hell yeah, we’ve dug a few vegetable patches in our time.”

Hayden had little time for repartee today. “Kimbiri is beset by… savages,” she finished a little lamely. “Every week they come. The police will not help. We came to see if you were the same?”

“Every week?” The old man spat again. “Who are you?”

The team introduced themselves as best they could. Hayden watched as more and more people gathered. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but a group of stern-faced, freshly washed, brightly clothed individuals wasn’t it. For their part they stared at the newcomers with interest and mistrust. She had hoped for someone friendly like Brynn to step forth, but the town withheld judgment for now.

“And why are you here?”

“We came first to Kimbiri seeking help,” Hayden explained. “We were searching for a house in the mountains owned by a reclusive man. We hoped they might know its whereabouts.”

“And they offered up this savage story?”

“No. We walked into their grieving.”

The old man squinted hard. “Explain.”

Hayden took a long breath and told him what they’d seen only hours earlier. His expression changed gradually, clouds of emotion altering his features from mistrust to disbelief to fear and finally to anger.

“Why have they not told us?” he barked. “They make the trek to Cusco; they talk to cops, but they do not inform Nuno.”

Hayden knew pride no doubt had its place in Emilio’s and Clareta’s decision not to seek help from Nuno. But there was a more telling question to ask.

“And have you informed anyone?”

The old man’s words caught in his throat, his expression softening. It was only a moment before he took a long look around, studying the other villagers, and then came back to Hayden.

“We have weapons. We fight. But they do no good. We… we thought we were the only ones.”

Hayden held out a hand. “Well, now you have help. What is your name?”

“I am Conde.” He proceeded to speak rapidly to the assembled throng, hopefully explaining the facts. Hayden watched them all closely in case he might be ordering an attack, but in many she saw relief entering expressions and a relaxing of muscles. She waited for Conde to finish.

“We expected them to come last night,” he said when finished. “But it seems Kimbiri suffered. Tonight?” he shrugged. “We will fight.”

“You have fought before, you say. Can you tell us who these people are? What they look like?”

“People?” Conde was back to snarling again. “Do you think we would be so frightened? Do you think we would allow people to come among us? To take our friends and families? These are not people.” He all but shuddered.

Drake stepped forward. “What have you seen, old man?”

“El monstruo. It is el monstruo.”

Hayden fought back a shiver. She didn’t have to ask Conde to explain. “Has anyone ever gotten close?”

“First Desi, then Ordell. They were taken. We have not seen them since.” Hayden heard a woman’s wail at the mention of the last name.

“How many others?”

“Eight,” Conde said. “Every week for two months now.”

Drake looked back at her. “So Nuno was hit first.”

Hayden sent a look into the distance. “Maybe. There is another village, is there not, Conde?”

“Yes, Quillabiri. But that is a way from here.”

“And more?”

“Small settlements. Many without name. Two dozen people in each one, maybe a few more. We are a hardy, private folk.”

Hayden wondered how far this went. She wondered how they had come across all this, out here in the colossal Andes and if she should turn her phone off right now. That way they couldn’t be forced home before they were done. The US political machine had no priority out here, but a new Secretary of Defense would never accept that.

“Eight lost,” Conde offered up with good timing. “Five men. Two women. One boy,” His face twisted with emotion. “In the old days our ancestors used sling and shot. We have no enemies, not here. We are not fighters. We live a meagre, content life. But we have boulders, stones and we can make a bow and arrow. Yes, we have a rich history. A mighty empire. A sniveling conqueror. Betrayal. Murder. Gold. There is not a man nor woman here that does not know it. We speak Spanish and Quechua, and a little English. Mostly, we farm. We know what happens in the big cities — drug trafficking, weapons trading, judge-hooding. I say all this to help you better realize that we are not hillbillies.” He laughed at the strange word. “We are not uneducated and ignorant. And that you know when I say el monstruo, it is precisely what I mean.”

Hayden nodded. “We understand.”

“We handle our own problems. Self-discipline and the control of one’s emotions is of high value here. We do not have a counterculture such as do the big cities, and we do not need western values. This is Peru. What is left of it.”

“Culture resists change,” Drake said. “My own land is a traditional place of bacon butties and fish and chip shops, but the interlopers keep trying to find a way in.”

Conde nodded, despite obvious confusion. Hayden tried to turn the conversation back around. “Can you describe el monstruo?”

“It comes shrouded by its friend, the darkness. It uses shadows for cloaks. It is silent, as silent as the seconds after death. It has little form. Do you see? Though we see signs of a body and crooked limbs, it has no face.”

“Masks?” Drake guessed.

“No masks. Only a smooth hint of nothing.”

“Fuck me.” Alicia glanced up at the mountains. “I bet you have fucking spiders too, don’t you?”

“Vampire bats as large as men.” Conde nodded, almost smiling. “And the terrible alpaca. We have many of them.”

Alicia shook herself. “Just steer me the hell away from them.”

Hayden fixed Conde’s eyes with her own, giving nothing away. “You fought these things? Did you ever hurt one?”

“Oh, they bleed. They bleed thick and red. But the place where they fall is always empty the next morning, so perhaps they cannot die. And they outnumber us. So many.”

Hayden stepped away, having heard enough and confident that Nuno was beset by the same problem as Kimbiri. And how many others? She dared not guess. The burning pyre of questions grew and raged, the flames becoming angrier. Where were the people being taken? What happened to them?

And could they cut one operation short — put it on hold even as Dahl and Kenzie fought merciless enemies across Europe to progress it — to jump right slap bang into another?

The seller was out here too though. Guarding his trove of ancient relics, what had been written about as the greatest hoard the world had ever known.

“This time,” she said. “It’s not about war, or bullets or terrorist bombs, and it’s not about us. This time, it’s about a few villagers in the mountains. And it’s just as important as all the others. Are you agreed?”

Drake’s lips turned up at the corners. “We’re right where we ought to be.”