Operation: Amazon

- 21 -

Banks set off up the path at a flat run, knowing that the squad would follow his lead. The track was rough and got steeper the closer he got to the top, so much so that he was breathing heavily and over-heating as he crested the ridge. He looked down the causeway, saw, and heard, the rotors of the chopper start up, then turned to face the pyramid.

The cube-shaped altar room that had sat on top of the structure had fallen inward on itself, the roof lying in two pieces on the steps some 10 feet below, and there was no sign of the altar itself. Banks’ heart fell again when he saw a large stone seeming to move of its own volition, and wasn’t surprised to see the head of one of the big snakes come up out of the rubble and taste the air. It fixed its gaze on the chopper, attracted either by the movement or the sound of the rotors. It pulled the whole length of its body up and out of the hole at the top of the pyramid and slithered down the steps.

A second snake followed it immediately afterward, and a third. The chopper still wasn’t up to full power and Banks saw that the snakes would be on it before it was ready to take off.

He ran down a slight incline and put himself between the first snake and the aircraft, already raising his weapon as he came to a stop. The snake wasn’t moving as fast as the ones they had faced on the dredger the night before. He had time to wonder whether the relative sluggishness might be due to it being daylight, then had to pay full attention as the creature was almost upon him, with two more right behind it, and at least six coming down the pyramid steps behind those.

The snake lunged, mouth opening and fangs dripping. Banks took two steps back, aimed and fired in one swift movement, three rounds down its gullet that dropped it like a stone. The other two came forward fast, but by that time McCally was at his side and between them they put the snakes down quickly and efficiently. Banks paused long enough to force his earplugs into place; the sound of gunfire and the rise of the rotor noise were already proving to be deafening.

Then it was all shooting and defending as a swarm of the snakes slithered down from the pyramid, seething and roiling in a mass that made it hard to distinguish one from another. Hynd and Wiggins joined in and the four men of the squad pumped bullets into the wriggling flesh. From the corner of his eye Banks saw the chopper lift up and away.

He motioned for the squad to start backing up.

“Let’s see if we can funnel these bastards the same way we did at the dredger,” he shouted and stepped backward toward the doorway of the nearest intact building. Buller was also already on the move to the same spot, backing off fast.

The rolling mass of snakes kept pace with them, leaving a trail of discarded skin, torn flesh, and gore in a slimy trail behind it. The air smelled of gunshot, warm vinegar, and oil. The squad kept firing and kept backing off toward the doorway.

The snakes kept coming.

Banks reached the door first and pushed Buller deeper into the gold-lined room. Banks’ plan was again the simplest one; funnel the snakes so that they could only attack one at a time, and pick them off. So far, the beasts, despite their obviously human origins, showed no signs of being intelligent enough to see the senselessness of their attack. Banks was also aware of the irony of the situation. These were the same things, albeit transformed, that he had refused to kill in the chamber under the pyramid. Now he was only too happy to see them put down to a violent death. He knew, from bitter experience, that the scene would be relived in the depths of night in the months, even years, to come. But for now, there was only the adrenaline rush, the shooting, and the death as snakes filled the doorway with the bullet-ridden bodies of their dead.

“I’m running low,” McCally shouted. “Stepping out.”

Banks was close to having the same issue himself. And the snakes kept coming, now having to push their way through and over the dead piling in the doorway. The noise in the enclosed space pounded and rang, vibrating through every bone in his body, the earplugs doing little to lessen the impact. His headphone buzzed, and the chopper pilot shouted. It was only one phrase, but it was enough to get Banks smiling.

“Fire in the hole.”

“Everybody down,” Banks shouted. He threw himself to the floor and was pleased to see that Buller at least had enough good sense to join them. At almost the same moment, the snakes piled beyond the doorway were blown to chunks of flesh, bone, and gore as the twin Gatling guns of the chopper made a strafing run along the causeway outside.

“Stay down. Coming back ‘round,” the pilot said at Banks’ ear. The floor shook, not earthquake this time but four explosions, almost simultaneous, and the doorway lit up in a brilliant flare of white, then yellow then red.

The sound echoed and rang for seconds afterward, then everything fell quiet save for the slightly distant sound of the chopper rotors. Banks’ headset buzzed again.

“All clear, Captain,” the pilot said. “For now, at least.”

Banks stood, somewhat groggy from the assault of sound and vibration. He put two bullets in the head of a snake on the doorway that was still squirming, trying to get at him, then stepped over it, and out into a scene of carnage.

Dead snakes, or at least the few remaining pieces of them, lay strewn and scattered the length of the causeway. The main concentration of blasted flesh was around the doorway he’d left, but oozing, stinking, remains stretched from where Banks stood all the way to the steps of the pyramid. The stench was worse than anything he’d ever experienced, the tang of hot vinegar and oil setting his guts rolling and tumbling. When Hynd offered him a cigarette, he accepted it gratefully and let the smoke mask the worst of it.

“I don’t think any of these buggers will be changing back again,” Hynd said laconically.

“They’re going to be in a hell of a mess if they do,” Banks agreed.

The chopper made a pass overhead and Banks gave the pilot a wave of thanks.

“No problem, Captain,” the pilot said at his ear. “We are glad to be of help. Shall we come and get you?”

“Give me two minutes to check all’s clear,” Banks replied.

Banks had the squad make a tour of the causeway, checking that all of the snakes were indeed destroyed, although, given the carnage, it was obvious that the job had already been done.

“So, is the site secure enough for you yet?” Buller said, his sarcasm all too clear.

“Aye, it is,” Banks said. “We’ll be fucking off now. It’s all yours. We’ll take the lead chopper, and you can wait with the backup for your team to get here.”

“Wait. We didn’t bring any provisions. What will I eat?”

“Snake?” Banks said, and turned away before the temptation to punch the man really did get too much to bear.

He was about to call down the chopper to evacuate the squad when McCally called from the doorway where the dead snakes were already starting to rot down under the full heat of the day. The flesh bubbled and seethed, a disgusting hybrid mixture of snakeskin and human tissue, gray and red and black and oozing. Banks was glad he still had the cigarette at hand as he walked over.

“There’s something happening inside, Cap. You need to see this. It’s really fucking weird.”

“Weirder than fucking giant snake people who live in a pyramid?”

“You tell me, boss.”

Banks followed the corporal back into the cubical room. The walls appeared to be melting, the carvings losing their definition, turning smooth as the gold slid, like an over-application of fresh paint, down the walls in drips that became runnels that became rivulets. The two of them had to stand back as it started to drip from the ceiling. He hadn’t taken note of it before, but the floor was slightly concave, running to a small, almost unnoticeable hole in the center. The melted gold found its way down toward it, and a glowing river ran away to somewhere underground.

And the process was definitely accelerating.