Inca Kings

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Securing his weapons, Drake waited half a minute and then began to barge right through the middle of their attackers. The grease that coated their bodies, and an odor of stale sweat filled his nostrils immediately; their quiet grunting only accentuating his distaste. Hands and feet jabbed at him, each missing a finger or a toe. A tight black mask came down fast, striking his cheek, the features beneath flattened and obscured. The man might as well have had no nose.

Hayden came behind, flinging others aside and trying to keep up the momentum. They needed to be fast and hard, move without mercy to get through the crush. Alicia cried out as she raced across the landing and then hit the last of the climbers, fighting them for the first time and making her own characteristically loud impressions.

Drake winced as he reached the halfway point down and faced a woman, her right arm missing from the elbow. She swung it at his face, missed, and he threw her at the wall, seeing blood and oil spurt in an erratic pattern across the paintwork. He kicked the next man in the chest, using his height advantage; picked up another and upended him over the bannister. Hayden followed at his heels, clearing the way for Alicia who ended her opponent’s day with sharp, precise jabs, knees and kicks.

Around the bottom of the stairs and the crawlers were exiting rapidly. Like a swarm they poured out the front door, a few steps ahead of Drake. Revulsion stuck in his throat, but he knew what these things were now — just not what made them the way they were.

An errant creature rose up on two legs, black and jabbing like a rearing, threatened arachnid. Drake dove in with an elbow and was then rolling outside, into the street, among them. An elbow struck his face, a knee glanced off his ribcage. One of the figures crawled right over him without stopping. Drake rolled and rolled until he hit the grass verge on the other side.

Alicia, on her feet, offered a hand. “Playtime done for today?”

“Aye, love. How’s it looking?”

“There’s too many of them for this rough and tumble shit. We need to start tying ’em up or something.”

“Should have known you’d come up with that. What position do you prefer?”

Alicia ran at his side as they jogged quickly toward the supposed safe-house. “Oh, Drakey, don’t tempt me.”

Hayden caught them up. “No way could these guys have known which house we chose,” she said, catching her feet as the path sloped. “No goddamn way.”

Alicia made a squeaking noise. “Mountain spider!”

Drake kicked out at a black figure that sprang at them from the shadows, all raised elbows and knees, hands jabbing like fleshy daggers. “Fuck’s sake, Alicia. Stop calling ’em that. Makes it worse.”

Then he turned to Hayden. “You think there’s a spy in their midst?”

“Makes sense. Easier all round. A local that wants something is far easier to plant than an outsider.”

“Well.” Drake breathed deeply as they converged on the creatures that surged around the house. “Let’s make sure we catch one of them.”

Alicia made a noise of distaste. “Instead of Glocks and HKs,” she moaned. “We should have brought cans of Raid.”

Villagers stood in the windows and filled the door, which had been broken down. They held spades and garden forks and a dozen other man-made implements. One creature writhed on its back, a long wooden handle sticking up out of its stomach. Another bled profusely, struggling to keep balance because it appeared to only have one arm. The darkness, the black clothing, the way they crawled… it all spoke of el monstruo.

But what kind of man— Drake stopped the thought for a moment. His next words would have been, bred them. But they weren’t bred. They were adults; they were full grown; they were…

The attack was unconvincing, uncertain. Drake, Alicia and Hayden usually entered the fray with guns blazing, fighting weapon with weapon, but these assailants were unarmed. They hadn’t hurt anyone. Drake found himself twisting arms and grabbing material where he could find it, throwing men and women aside, punching those that were stronger and generally barging the rest out of the way. Soon, their hands and clothing became coated with the oil. Their skin stank. Drake grabbed a limpid binding of hair, felt the grease squeeze out all over his knuckles and flinched away. The owner whirled and charged. Drake fell to one knee and sent them flying over one shoulder.

Then the screams began.

A cluster of assailants was overrunning the doorway. One of them disarmed a woman and pulled her bodily from the step. She fell, crying out, her fellow villagers trying to reach her but tripping and falling themselves. The black creatures dragged her away, leaping and jumping at her as if she were a magnificent treasure, starting to squeal with pleasure now that they had found their quarry.

At the side of the house another knot found another victim, and started the same routine.

“We can’t let this happen.” Hayden’s face was fixed and the Glock came out. She headed around the side of the house.

Drake turned to Alicia. “Try to stop her killing anyone. I’ll sort this out.”

He started to run after the beleaguered woman, but then the villagers came rushing out of the house; buoyed and daring with their new helpers. They jabbed at the creatures with their weapons, eliciting screams and grunts and keening wails. Drake reached the woman, dealt out several crushing blows, and took a couple of bruising strikes. The woman ran to him, fighting creatures off. Drake pulled her out of their midst, now helped by villagers who sank sharpened edges into greasy flesh. Drake saw one creature caught along the throat; the jugular opened up and a fountain of blood shot forth.

No.

But the frenzy was on the villagers, and he could hardly blame them. They fought the things of nightmare, their worst dreams made reality this past few months, and the rage of release was irresistible.

Drake dragged some away. The creatures hesitated. He saw Alicia at the other side of the house and Hayden too, then heard the boss fire her gun. A creature twisted and writhed. The rest of the horde reared back; an incredible sight to watch and so unnerving Drake caught his breath. For a second the world went quiet.

The creature with the severed neck bled out. Others nursed breakages quietly. The woman they’d tried to abduct held a hand over her mouth to keep from sobbing. A man that might be her husband enfolded her in his arms.

Then the creatures came to some kind of decision. As one, as if possessed of mental telepathy, they scuttled and raced toward their fallen, gathered them up and carried them away from the village. They ran by paths and roads and between houses. They made no sound. The only thing they left behind was blood. Drake watched the horde vanish, an undulating black pack, greasy and spidery, all arms and elbows and legs, many of them amputees. He watched them swell and heave into the dark that surrounded the village and then beyond that, across the flat plateau, under the silver-shod fields, toward the silent majesty of the mountains.

Alicia met him a few steps in front of Hayden. “Dude, I sure do hope they don’t call us back to DC anytime soon. ’Cause we ain’t fucking going.”

Their boss still held her weapon but now slid it back into its holster. “I second that enormously.”

Drake said nothing. Since they arrived in Peru he’d somehow known they had a deeper mission. These remote, vulnerable villages needed help and they needed the SPEAR team. They were out here until they won… or died.