Inca Kings

CHAPTER FORTY ONE

Drake let loose the fury of war as a hundred snarling enemies charged.

One shot per man, one downed and another tripped over and then another with each shot. The mags emptied fast but the attackers kept coming. Dahl ranged to the right, Alicia to the left. Mai chose hand-to-hand combat for the first wave, sending each to the ground, and then used intricate holds to twist them against the next. People fell around her, but if they weren’t dead or unconscious they were still extremely dangerous. No reaching for lost weapons here; the cannibals came at her with their teeth.

Kenzie used her Glock; part of the weapons cache they’d liberated from members of the Cusco Militia. A man jumped at her, shot through the chest, but on landing bore her to the ground, bleeding all over her and snapping with his teeth, trying to take the end of her nose off. She held him away with one hand, and brought her gun around with the other.

She pulled the trigger, then moved on to the next.

Drake aimed and fired two bullets, then looked down in horror as something jerked at his arm. Jaws were fastened around his wrist, the teeth gnashing hard at the leather and cloth that protected the flesh. He could feel the points through his clothes, cutting deeper. He smashed the cannibal on the top of the skull, then again, and finally a third time as hard as he could. The figure slumped away; the teeth marks forever impressed in the leather around his sleeve, torn through and almost reaching the skin. He saw a woman leap for Dahl’s throat to be brushed aside by the Swede’s arm.

Not just a battle. This is raw, visceral bedlam.

A bite on his thigh made him scream. Shock and disbelief tore the sound from him. Kenzie came down hard on the offender, unleashing her katana and severing the offending body part.

“Do you like me now?” she asked.

“Fuck yeah.” Drake waded into a group of cannibals. Kicking, smashing with hands, knees and feet, he forced them apart, shooting his weapon until it ran dry.

“Should have kept some, ya knob.” Dahl was close by. “Look up there.”

Drake raised his eyes above fang level. Along the upper reaches of the hall were arrayed a row of interior balconies, mostly for show, but some of Dantanion’s men had climbed up to them and were aiming their bows from above, sighting in on the team. Dahl shot one down, but two more loosed arrows. Bolts slammed into the crowd, parting Curtis and Desiree but hitting neither. Brynn struggled with an aggressor but Mai was soon at her side, flinging the woman away. The villagers still kept hold of their own guns, though did not advance on the crowd, overwhelmed and alarmed.

Drake flinched as another arrow flew down. This one glanced off the polished floor at his feet. A body took him about the waist, but not in the usual sense. This one contained a set of teeth that instantly started worrying at his stomach, biting and tearing and trying to find a way inside. An elbow to the neck sent the aggressor to the floor; a boot to the same area finished him. The next onslaught came and he deflected the leap, allowing the body to fly past. Dahl picked off another archer. Two remained though, and now sent down bolts that struck Mai and Kenzie.

“No!”

Kenzie fell to one knee, gasping. The black bolt had pierced her clothing, but only an inch of skin, flashing through at pace and drawing a long furrow. The wound bled, but she ignored it, stabbing at an oncoming victim. Mai saw the arrow coming and dodged faster than the eye could follow, but even then it would have struck her forehead if a foe hadn’t deflected it with his own. Still it came though, tumbling though the air, striking her with the bulk of the shaft and leaving a mark. She fought on without stumbling, blinking furiously.

Alicia saw her struggling and moved toward her back.

“Thanks,” Mai gasped.

“Wouldn’t want you to miss our showdown, darlin’.”

“Of course.”

Spider creatures now jumped away from the walls and came swarming across the floor. Many hopped up onto the colossal table, and sent pots, pans and plates spinning as they surged across it, bodies cavorting and limbs pivoting at practically impossible angles.

Kenzie, alone, jumped up onto the table and stood tall, immobile, her sword pointed at its surface, resting. “You will not get past me,” she said to them all.

They capered straight for her. With grace of movement, she lifted and swung the katana, a deadly arc of artistry, blade flashing, glinting, and then washed with blood. The downward swing became a sideways sweep and then an upward curve, painting the air with trails of crimson. Three were at her feet, twitching. A dozen more came.

Kenzie stepped forward with economy of movement, a shuffle of her feet at a time, using the table’s width and dancing from left to right. The katana swished and curved and diced the air, chopping through a creeping body or catching one in mid-air.

Alicia ran down the side of the table to help, picking off a few stragglers at the back with the last of her bullets. Kenzie painted new and skillful shapes of blood in the air, stepping among the showers, dripping red, and starting to attract the attention of more than just the spider creatures.

Drake saw nostrils flaring and jaws widening as they aimed toward her. Taking stock, he quickly evaluated their position. The villagers were knotted in one corner of the room, Mai before them, taking their fair share of attackers away from the main battle. Drake saw to his dismay that two had already fallen. Dahl was in front, softening the onslaught. Up ahead, he watched as Dantanion studied the fight, the enigmatic leader saying nothing and moving little, but seeing everything. A shrug of a shoulder sent the last of his spider creatures into the fray, all bounding creepily toward Dahl and Alicia. And still he watched, both hands holding a ghastly chain of finger bones that hung around his neck.

From behind Dantanion came the feast that had been prepared, only now it was being propelled by two huge men dressed in chef’s uniforms. The strangeness and creepiness of it all staggered Drake, but he rushed forward anyway, barging two cannibals aside and punching a third in the head. The huge lead chef confronted him, cleaver in hand.

“You ruin it alllll!”

Drake staggered back as the chef upended the huge platter onto him. The prepared dead body looked whole, but had been quartered, so the arms and legs fell separately to the main cadaver. Drake warded off an arm but was struck by a falling leg, the bone hitting his forehead like a fist. It was only by luck that he then saw the descending cleaver — its blade flashing and catching his eye.

Thrusting both hands up, he caught the wrist as it came down, halting the blade a hair’s breadth from his face. The chef jumped upon him, weight bearing down, face a snarl and teeth bared. Coming around him now, Drake saw the legs of the second chef.

No way was he going to be able to move the big bastard atop him. The edge of the cleaver was already parting the tiniest hairs on his face. Every ounce of muscle, of concentration, was being poured into stopping that cleaver.

Chef number two dropped down to one knee beside his left ear. This man held a steak knife in one hand and proceeded to slowly level it up with Drake’s ear. He then placed a hand behind the shaft.

“Say when you’re ready,” he said to the first chef.

“Skewer its brain,” came the grunt of a reply.

Drake tried to twist away but there was nowhere to go. The second chef pushed the steak knife hard into his ear, but then the momentum stopped. The hand holding the knife fell to the floor and the bloody stump that was left flew up, spraying as its owner screamed.

“Let’s see how you like it.” Kenzie had swept the table clear and jumped to his aid. Her sword sliced and diced the second chef and then impaled the first. The man kept pushing despite the pain, seeing the end but trying to take Drake with him. The ex-SAS man pushed back with everything he had, holding the weapon at bay just long enough.

Kenzie pushed harder and all the strength fled from the chef. His face creased, his will all but sapped. Drake rolled him off and took the hand Kenzie proffered.

“Cheers, love,” he said.

“Just proving a point.” She waved the katana in his face to emphasize the wit.

“Always fancied the chef’s special,” Drake said. “Never thought I’d become it.”

“You will never take us alive!” Dantanion screamed above it all. “It will all come crashing down before we die!” He ripped the finger bone necklace from around his neck and threw it into the air — the chain broken and the digits dropping down all around him.

Ah, the quiet man finds his voice and his anger. At last.

“Sounds desperate,” Kenzie said.

“My job is almost done,” Drake said grimly. “Let’s push the bastard over the edge.”

Only three men separated them from Dantanion. To their right Dahl slipped in blood, fell to one knee and saw a knife thrust at his shoulder. Unable to twist to evade the attack he kicked the assailant’s legs away, felling him, and then stared right into the man’s eyes.

“Stab me whilst I’m down would you?”

The blade slashed at him. Dahl caught it, turned it, and planted it in his attacker. Another spider creature landed on his back, striking with elbows and knees, face mask lifted so the teeth could come into play. Dahl put a heavy boot into them and watched the black-clad man shrink away. Above, there were no more archers and the hall was becoming much less crowded. Mai managed to close the gap between them and the villagers, bringing the entire group closer together.

Dantanion screamed something about his family, his vision. The world he had built. As he finished, his self-imposed fangs glinted, a savage promise.

Standing alone, he did not run away.

Drake and Kenzie cleared the path before him.