punisher5150
Member
Part 58
The next morning
One hour before sunrise
They had been talking to the chief for a long time. The realization that the old Aymará chief could read their thoughts as easily as reading a book had shaken Indiana to the core. He knew the old man had been telling the truth. The chief had known from the first moment when he met them what they had been seeking, just as he had known what Corda and Ramos?s intentions had been. Indiana did not even attempt to find an explanation as to why the old man had this eerie power. He knew the old man had it, and that was enough. He did not consider questioning him further about this ability.
Reuben was also visibly shaken ? but unlike Indiana, continued to try to get the old man to allow them to leave. For almost an hour he had continued in his attempt to persuade the old one in releasing them. He had begged, pleaded, and finally threatened him quite bluntly. But none of it worked. The old man remained persistent in his refusal to let them go, and continued with his assertion that the gold of El Dorado could protect itself. When he finally left, he told them goodbye and that he would meet with them again the next morning. It was then he would give his decision on their fate.
When Indiana awoke the next day, strange feeling tormented him. There was a dull pressure between his temples, giving him a slight headache and making the ability to think difficult. In hindsight, their experience talking with the chieftain had been almost like a dream ? and the memory of the conversation was like trying to recall a dream; the details were there but they did not quite feel real.
Dazed, he straightened himself up. He was not the only one who seemed to find it difficult waking up properly. All of the men were confused and groggy, except for Marcus, who was snoring like a sawmill, and Henley, who was in a deep restful sleep of one recovering from sickness. The rest looked just as dazed and confused as Indiana had been when he sat up. The men moved with grogginess and uncertainty. When he turned and looked into Reuben?s face, he saw the same confusion and uncertainty, and a look as if Reuben was having trouble remembering where he was and why he was there.
And it didn?t subside. The deformed Indians who they now knew as the guardians brought them food and fresh water, and shortly after eating the Aymará chief appeared again. The weird sensation they had been feeling subsided only a little, and Indiana began to wonder if he were dreaming.
Then, just after sunrise, they heard the gunshots.
At first, Indiana thought he was imagining the noise. But the volley of gunfire quickly sounded closer, and not only increased in volume but in severity.
The opening salvo was a sporadic cracking gunfire, but it was soon joined by the hammering staccato of automatic weapons and screams, and then a terrible hissing and pattering, of which Indiana knew only too well: flamethrowers.
The men were in agitated panic and they all stormed to the exit of the cave, but the guard posted at the mouth still denied them exit; dumb, but persevering. In the thick forest ahead they could make out the red light reflections of flames over the rocks and vegetation, and the gunshots and cries revealed the battle to be occurring just a few yards from the cave entrance.
?Damn, what?s going on?? asked Reuben excitedly. ?Ramos! It must be Ramos and his people!? He took a step further towards the guardian at the entrance, and the Aymará raised his club menacingly. Reuben stopped. But Indiana could see the thoughts going through Reuben?s mind. Although they were unarmed, it was eight against one.
Indiana hastily moved in front of Reuben and confronted the guard, gesturing with his hands. ?You must let us through,? he said. ?We are not your enemy! Call your chief! We?can help you!?
The guardian looked at him and grinned stupidly. He had apparently had not understood a word. Or he didn?t want to understand.
Indiana?s gaze wandered desperately to the exit. The MP fire had stopped for a moment, but the fight was not over yet ? quite the opposite. The cries, and sounds of bustling steps, inched closer and closer, and suddenly the machine gun pounded so close to the cave entrance that even the Aymará became visibly shaken ? but he did not budge from his position just inside the cave?s mouth.
The firefight raged for a full quarter of an hour before the shots and cries slowly died down. It seemed like an eternity before the guard at the cavern entrance stepped aside to allow the chief passage through.
?What happened?? asked Indiana immediately upon seeing the old man. ?That was Ramos, wasn?t it??
The Aymará looked at him sternly, making Indiana regret asking such a superfluous question. But it quickly dissolved to a deep resignation, like a disembodied pain. Without answering he turned his back to them and motioned them all to follow him with a quick hand movement.
It had become bright, but the day hadn?t fully pushed the nighttime sky away. There was a persistent gray fog clouding the north, minimizing visibility to a meager twenty or thirty paces.
But Indiana saw much more than he wanted to see within those twenty or thirty steps. Scattered between the rocks and vegetation were the dead and wounded bodies of many of the guardians. Flames still licked at the air here and there, and the smell of gasoline, hot stone, burnt vegetation, and charred meat lingered in the air. Sometimes a faint groan penetrated the fog. The Aymará had paid a heavy price for trying to stop Ramos?s mercenary army. And Indiana didn?t have to ask the old man if the Aymará had succeeded.
Reuben, too, had become pale. Although Reuben?s career had made him witness to many terrible things, nothing could quite prepare a person for the sight before them. Expressions of helplessness and anger were written across his face.
?I hope you?re happy now, old man!? Reuben spat in a trembling voice. He furiously pointed at the dead around them. ?This is all your fault! You didn?t want to believe me, did you? I told you what would happen if you tried to stop Ramos alone, by force!?
?That?s enough, Reuben,? Indiana said wearily. ?Please.?
Reuben glared at him, and for a moment Indiana thought the man might turn his wrath against him. But then the rage shrank from his face as quickly as it had appeared. Indiana realized that he probably had not truly been angry. His emotions had spiked and this was just his way of coping with the horror.
?Madness,? he muttered, more to himself and Indiana. ?Bows and arrows against flamethrowers and machine guns.?
?Where are they now?? asked Indiana, referring to the mercenaries.
The Aymará made a slight gesture, pointing in the fog. ?There. On the way tot the summit. My men are following.?
?But don?t worry,? he added quickly, sensing Indiana was about to protest. ?They will no longer attack you.?
?This should not have happened,? Reuben said softly. ?We would have helped you, you old fool. Together we could have stopped them.?
The chief shook his head sadly. ?To shed more blood? No. What has happened was meant to happen. It is the will of the gods, not the plans of people that will stop them. The murderers will not escape their punishment.?
Indiana?s gaze drifted in the direction the old man had indicated. But there was nothing but grey and an impenetrable fog. A gentle, stony-covered downward slope ran in the opposite direction, sparsely covered in vegetation. When the guardians had first brought them here, Indiana and the others were far too exhausted to take in their surroundings. Now he understood and respected them. The cave entrance rested in the heart of the mountain, camouflaged by the rocks and vegetation, and clouded in a perpetual fog that Indiana surmised never lifted. The same everlasting fog that covered the summit. Indiana simply knew that the fog seldom, if ever lifted, and had probably been around since the mountain existed.
This was also part of that lingering, dream-like surreal-ness he had felt since awakening. It defied nature as he knew it. Nothing like this had ever been recorded. And he accepted it.
With a mixture of fear and resignation, he turned to the Aymará chief. ?What about us? What is going to happen to us now?? he asked.
?I have discussed this at length with my brethren,? the Aymará chief explained. ?We believe we can trust you. Your hearts are different from those others that have come, seeking only gold and power. You can leave. My warriors will lead you to the river. From there you can make your way back alone. It is not easy, but you can make it.?
?And Henley?? asked Reuben.
?Your comrade can stay until he has healed enough to follow,? answered the old man. ?He will not be harmed and will be taken care of until that time.?
?You will let us go. Just like that?? asked Indiana dubiously.
The Aymará chief nodded. ?As I said, you are not like the others who came before you,? he repeated. ?I trust you.?
Indiana sensed the old man was not giving them the whole truth. When he looked into the eyes of the old chief, he knew they would be let go. There was no reason to kill them now. If the Aymará had wanted them dead he could have left them in the forest days ago. Or they would have never been rescued from the boat back at the river. But Indiana sensed that letting them go would not come without cost.
The next morning
One hour before sunrise
They had been talking to the chief for a long time. The realization that the old Aymará chief could read their thoughts as easily as reading a book had shaken Indiana to the core. He knew the old man had been telling the truth. The chief had known from the first moment when he met them what they had been seeking, just as he had known what Corda and Ramos?s intentions had been. Indiana did not even attempt to find an explanation as to why the old man had this eerie power. He knew the old man had it, and that was enough. He did not consider questioning him further about this ability.
Reuben was also visibly shaken ? but unlike Indiana, continued to try to get the old man to allow them to leave. For almost an hour he had continued in his attempt to persuade the old one in releasing them. He had begged, pleaded, and finally threatened him quite bluntly. But none of it worked. The old man remained persistent in his refusal to let them go, and continued with his assertion that the gold of El Dorado could protect itself. When he finally left, he told them goodbye and that he would meet with them again the next morning. It was then he would give his decision on their fate.
When Indiana awoke the next day, strange feeling tormented him. There was a dull pressure between his temples, giving him a slight headache and making the ability to think difficult. In hindsight, their experience talking with the chieftain had been almost like a dream ? and the memory of the conversation was like trying to recall a dream; the details were there but they did not quite feel real.
Dazed, he straightened himself up. He was not the only one who seemed to find it difficult waking up properly. All of the men were confused and groggy, except for Marcus, who was snoring like a sawmill, and Henley, who was in a deep restful sleep of one recovering from sickness. The rest looked just as dazed and confused as Indiana had been when he sat up. The men moved with grogginess and uncertainty. When he turned and looked into Reuben?s face, he saw the same confusion and uncertainty, and a look as if Reuben was having trouble remembering where he was and why he was there.
And it didn?t subside. The deformed Indians who they now knew as the guardians brought them food and fresh water, and shortly after eating the Aymará chief appeared again. The weird sensation they had been feeling subsided only a little, and Indiana began to wonder if he were dreaming.
Then, just after sunrise, they heard the gunshots.
At first, Indiana thought he was imagining the noise. But the volley of gunfire quickly sounded closer, and not only increased in volume but in severity.
The opening salvo was a sporadic cracking gunfire, but it was soon joined by the hammering staccato of automatic weapons and screams, and then a terrible hissing and pattering, of which Indiana knew only too well: flamethrowers.
The men were in agitated panic and they all stormed to the exit of the cave, but the guard posted at the mouth still denied them exit; dumb, but persevering. In the thick forest ahead they could make out the red light reflections of flames over the rocks and vegetation, and the gunshots and cries revealed the battle to be occurring just a few yards from the cave entrance.
?Damn, what?s going on?? asked Reuben excitedly. ?Ramos! It must be Ramos and his people!? He took a step further towards the guardian at the entrance, and the Aymará raised his club menacingly. Reuben stopped. But Indiana could see the thoughts going through Reuben?s mind. Although they were unarmed, it was eight against one.
Indiana hastily moved in front of Reuben and confronted the guard, gesturing with his hands. ?You must let us through,? he said. ?We are not your enemy! Call your chief! We?can help you!?
The guardian looked at him and grinned stupidly. He had apparently had not understood a word. Or he didn?t want to understand.
Indiana?s gaze wandered desperately to the exit. The MP fire had stopped for a moment, but the fight was not over yet ? quite the opposite. The cries, and sounds of bustling steps, inched closer and closer, and suddenly the machine gun pounded so close to the cave entrance that even the Aymará became visibly shaken ? but he did not budge from his position just inside the cave?s mouth.
The firefight raged for a full quarter of an hour before the shots and cries slowly died down. It seemed like an eternity before the guard at the cavern entrance stepped aside to allow the chief passage through.
?What happened?? asked Indiana immediately upon seeing the old man. ?That was Ramos, wasn?t it??
The Aymará looked at him sternly, making Indiana regret asking such a superfluous question. But it quickly dissolved to a deep resignation, like a disembodied pain. Without answering he turned his back to them and motioned them all to follow him with a quick hand movement.
It had become bright, but the day hadn?t fully pushed the nighttime sky away. There was a persistent gray fog clouding the north, minimizing visibility to a meager twenty or thirty paces.
But Indiana saw much more than he wanted to see within those twenty or thirty steps. Scattered between the rocks and vegetation were the dead and wounded bodies of many of the guardians. Flames still licked at the air here and there, and the smell of gasoline, hot stone, burnt vegetation, and charred meat lingered in the air. Sometimes a faint groan penetrated the fog. The Aymará had paid a heavy price for trying to stop Ramos?s mercenary army. And Indiana didn?t have to ask the old man if the Aymará had succeeded.
Reuben, too, had become pale. Although Reuben?s career had made him witness to many terrible things, nothing could quite prepare a person for the sight before them. Expressions of helplessness and anger were written across his face.
?I hope you?re happy now, old man!? Reuben spat in a trembling voice. He furiously pointed at the dead around them. ?This is all your fault! You didn?t want to believe me, did you? I told you what would happen if you tried to stop Ramos alone, by force!?
?That?s enough, Reuben,? Indiana said wearily. ?Please.?
Reuben glared at him, and for a moment Indiana thought the man might turn his wrath against him. But then the rage shrank from his face as quickly as it had appeared. Indiana realized that he probably had not truly been angry. His emotions had spiked and this was just his way of coping with the horror.
?Madness,? he muttered, more to himself and Indiana. ?Bows and arrows against flamethrowers and machine guns.?
?Where are they now?? asked Indiana, referring to the mercenaries.
The Aymará made a slight gesture, pointing in the fog. ?There. On the way tot the summit. My men are following.?
?But don?t worry,? he added quickly, sensing Indiana was about to protest. ?They will no longer attack you.?
?This should not have happened,? Reuben said softly. ?We would have helped you, you old fool. Together we could have stopped them.?
The chief shook his head sadly. ?To shed more blood? No. What has happened was meant to happen. It is the will of the gods, not the plans of people that will stop them. The murderers will not escape their punishment.?
Indiana?s gaze drifted in the direction the old man had indicated. But there was nothing but grey and an impenetrable fog. A gentle, stony-covered downward slope ran in the opposite direction, sparsely covered in vegetation. When the guardians had first brought them here, Indiana and the others were far too exhausted to take in their surroundings. Now he understood and respected them. The cave entrance rested in the heart of the mountain, camouflaged by the rocks and vegetation, and clouded in a perpetual fog that Indiana surmised never lifted. The same everlasting fog that covered the summit. Indiana simply knew that the fog seldom, if ever lifted, and had probably been around since the mountain existed.
This was also part of that lingering, dream-like surreal-ness he had felt since awakening. It defied nature as he knew it. Nothing like this had ever been recorded. And he accepted it.
With a mixture of fear and resignation, he turned to the Aymará chief. ?What about us? What is going to happen to us now?? he asked.
?I have discussed this at length with my brethren,? the Aymará chief explained. ?We believe we can trust you. Your hearts are different from those others that have come, seeking only gold and power. You can leave. My warriors will lead you to the river. From there you can make your way back alone. It is not easy, but you can make it.?
?And Henley?? asked Reuben.
?Your comrade can stay until he has healed enough to follow,? answered the old man. ?He will not be harmed and will be taken care of until that time.?
?You will let us go. Just like that?? asked Indiana dubiously.
The Aymará chief nodded. ?As I said, you are not like the others who came before you,? he repeated. ?I trust you.?
Indiana sensed the old man was not giving them the whole truth. When he looked into the eyes of the old chief, he knew they would be let go. There was no reason to kill them now. If the Aymará had wanted them dead he could have left them in the forest days ago. Or they would have never been rescued from the boat back at the river. But Indiana sensed that letting them go would not come without cost.