Dead Man's Chest -- Spooky Pirate Fun -- COMPLETE! Nov 3/06
barsoomcore
Unattainable Ideal
Never fear. We'll get to the monkeys.
barsoomcore
Unattainable Ideal
We don't want to hear about the monkeys. Quinn hasn't given us a moment's rest on the subject since we left Cap-Haitien. I swear, if I hear one more word about those damned monkeys I'll throw the blighter overboard. He hasn't been sober a day since either.
We have been making our cautious way through the Bahamas, seeking an island named by a madman. Manjack Cay, some arid little spit of rock and sand, where John Dann (the madman) swears the last crystal skull is hidden.
Along with a goodly portion of Henry Every's haul from the Moghul of India, if the madman is to be believed. Dann swore he and his partner hid the treasure there, and we are equipped with a cryptic map that shows its supposed location.
Now we see the strangely humped hill that Dann describes in his map, and are tacking clear of the marked shoals of what we presume is Manjack Cay.
The frigate continues to handle quite nicely. As I suspected, English-built.
*****
"But I need to explain. You still don't understand -- "
Ana cut Quinn off with an exasperated gesture.
"No, Quinn. Please. Nobody wants to hear about the monkeys. Just drop it, okay?"
"But they were large."
"Yes. And pink. And dancing, no doubt. Please. Enough."
Ana stomped away from Quinn's despairing face, further into the thin scrub that counted for forest on this island. The shore party, consisting of Ana, Quinn, Black and Dras, was following a sighting directed by the map, working their way towards the center of the island. They also had with them two stout topmen to help haul or dig or rig cables or whatever sorts of strange tasks would be required.
Like, for example, fishing Ana out of the hole that suddenly opened beneath her stomping feet.
With a single cry the island girl disappeared. Her body hit the bottom of the pit with a solid thud, but the sudden groan of pain sounded more serious than the fall warranted. The other members of the shore party rushed forward to find their friend impaled through the leg by a short wooden stake. She clutched at her bleeding thigh and looked up fearfully.
"It's poisoned. I can't move my leg."
Black hissed.
"We're not alone on this island, my friends. And the natives don't seem friendly."
*****
"What do you think, Quinn? Is that monkeys playing that drum?"
"Shut up."
Immediately after retrieving Ana from the pit, the group had heard a sudden rythmic drumming set up off to their left. Abandoning their path along the indicated sightline, they had determined to seek out the source of this noise, in the hopes of confronting the island's inhabitants.
The sailors had rigged a sort of travois for Ana, and dragged her along at the end of the group, so that she lay watching down the path they'd come along. She craned her neck around as she heard her companions exclaim in surprise.
"What is it? What is it?"
Dras answered.
"It's some kind of... mechanism. Couple of ropes and such."
"What does it do?"
"Uh, it makes noise. I guess. There's a beater that rocks back and forth, hitting a hollow log. That's the drumming sound."
"What's it for?"
Black spoke up.
"I believe it was meant to lure us here. Let's look around and see what we find."
Ana frowned as she caught sight of something moving, far off in the trees.
"Uh, guys?"
No one responded.
The something moving resolved itself into an upright, shambling form, rushing towards her. Ana drew back in her litter as the thing came racing forward through the trees, making not a sound as it leapt and scrambled nearer.
"Uh. Guys. We have company, I think."
She could hear its gasping, giggling breath now, the slap of twigs and branches brushed aside, and she fancied she could smell the deeply foul miasma of its presence. Ana shrieked, and braced herself as best as she could, closing her eyes and crying out to her ancestors to protect her from this thing.
She heard more yelling and opened her eyes. The thing, whatever it was, had rushed right past her and now, from the confused and frantic noises behind her, was engaged in some sort of life-and-death struggle with her friends.
"What's going on? Somebody? Anybody?"
More yelling and scuffling, and a sudden bloodcurdling shriek Ana couldn't identify followed by several heavy thumps, a series of grunts and some particularly virulent swearing that, startled, Ana recognized as Black's.
"Is everyone okay? What happened?"
"The damned sod bit me. Damn him. Hurts like a bugger, too."
"Bring me over there, I can help."
Ana rummaged in the pack resting beside her.
"I can help."
*****
"So who is he? And what's up with his teeth?"
"Carisona."
Dras' friends looked over at her.
"The Hunter. Baron Samedi told me we'd find the skull of Carisona The Hunter here. I think this fellow here is somehow embodying the Hunter."
"But these aren't false teeth. He's really got enormous choppers, here."
"The Hunter has consumed him and made him a puppet."
Their enemy had turned out to be an extremely skinny white man with wild hair and disturbing large, sharp teeth. Now unconscious, he had succeeded in tearing a great strip of flesh out of Black's arm with those disturbing teeth. The wound looked foul. Already the torn skin had begun to turn dark, and only the quick application of Ana's herbs had stopped the apparent infection.
"Well, it's a cinch his skull isn't crystal, so we ought to keep looking for this treasure Mister Dann assured us would be here."
Black's comments triggered a memory in Quinn, and he studied the unconscious man more carefully.
"Didn't you say Dann had mentioned a guy left behind on the island? Ben something? Couldn't this be him?"
They all considered. Quinn scratched his head.
"You'd think this Mister Dann would have mentioned that his friend had teeth like a wolf's."
"Maybe you were listening to the monkeys."
"Don't start with me, Dras."
*****
"The Spanish navy's just not all they say it is, is it?"
Black smirked, surveying the smoking ruins of the two sloops that had tried to waylay them south of Manjack Cay. His smirk vanished as he caught sight of Dras at the stern, dumping a tray full of fruit and flowers and meat off the side.
"Here now! What's this about, lad?"
"I'm asking Papa Agwe to help us. We need to get to Cozumel before Zipakna. We've got the one skull, but we need to get to the temple of the sun before she does."
"What is this temple?"
"I have no idea."
Quinn joined them.
"NOW can I tell you about the monkeys?"
"Quinn, how many times we have to tell you? Nobody wants to hear about the monkeys."
We have been making our cautious way through the Bahamas, seeking an island named by a madman. Manjack Cay, some arid little spit of rock and sand, where John Dann (the madman) swears the last crystal skull is hidden.
Along with a goodly portion of Henry Every's haul from the Moghul of India, if the madman is to be believed. Dann swore he and his partner hid the treasure there, and we are equipped with a cryptic map that shows its supposed location.
Now we see the strangely humped hill that Dann describes in his map, and are tacking clear of the marked shoals of what we presume is Manjack Cay.
The frigate continues to handle quite nicely. As I suspected, English-built.
*****
"But I need to explain. You still don't understand -- "
Ana cut Quinn off with an exasperated gesture.
"No, Quinn. Please. Nobody wants to hear about the monkeys. Just drop it, okay?"
"But they were large."
"Yes. And pink. And dancing, no doubt. Please. Enough."
Ana stomped away from Quinn's despairing face, further into the thin scrub that counted for forest on this island. The shore party, consisting of Ana, Quinn, Black and Dras, was following a sighting directed by the map, working their way towards the center of the island. They also had with them two stout topmen to help haul or dig or rig cables or whatever sorts of strange tasks would be required.
Like, for example, fishing Ana out of the hole that suddenly opened beneath her stomping feet.
With a single cry the island girl disappeared. Her body hit the bottom of the pit with a solid thud, but the sudden groan of pain sounded more serious than the fall warranted. The other members of the shore party rushed forward to find their friend impaled through the leg by a short wooden stake. She clutched at her bleeding thigh and looked up fearfully.
"It's poisoned. I can't move my leg."
Black hissed.
"We're not alone on this island, my friends. And the natives don't seem friendly."
*****
"What do you think, Quinn? Is that monkeys playing that drum?"
"Shut up."
Immediately after retrieving Ana from the pit, the group had heard a sudden rythmic drumming set up off to their left. Abandoning their path along the indicated sightline, they had determined to seek out the source of this noise, in the hopes of confronting the island's inhabitants.
The sailors had rigged a sort of travois for Ana, and dragged her along at the end of the group, so that she lay watching down the path they'd come along. She craned her neck around as she heard her companions exclaim in surprise.
"What is it? What is it?"
Dras answered.
"It's some kind of... mechanism. Couple of ropes and such."
"What does it do?"
"Uh, it makes noise. I guess. There's a beater that rocks back and forth, hitting a hollow log. That's the drumming sound."
"What's it for?"
Black spoke up.
"I believe it was meant to lure us here. Let's look around and see what we find."
Ana frowned as she caught sight of something moving, far off in the trees.
"Uh, guys?"
No one responded.
The something moving resolved itself into an upright, shambling form, rushing towards her. Ana drew back in her litter as the thing came racing forward through the trees, making not a sound as it leapt and scrambled nearer.
"Uh. Guys. We have company, I think."
She could hear its gasping, giggling breath now, the slap of twigs and branches brushed aside, and she fancied she could smell the deeply foul miasma of its presence. Ana shrieked, and braced herself as best as she could, closing her eyes and crying out to her ancestors to protect her from this thing.
She heard more yelling and opened her eyes. The thing, whatever it was, had rushed right past her and now, from the confused and frantic noises behind her, was engaged in some sort of life-and-death struggle with her friends.
"What's going on? Somebody? Anybody?"
More yelling and scuffling, and a sudden bloodcurdling shriek Ana couldn't identify followed by several heavy thumps, a series of grunts and some particularly virulent swearing that, startled, Ana recognized as Black's.
"Is everyone okay? What happened?"
"The damned sod bit me. Damn him. Hurts like a bugger, too."
"Bring me over there, I can help."
Ana rummaged in the pack resting beside her.
"I can help."
*****
"So who is he? And what's up with his teeth?"
"Carisona."
Dras' friends looked over at her.
"The Hunter. Baron Samedi told me we'd find the skull of Carisona The Hunter here. I think this fellow here is somehow embodying the Hunter."
"But these aren't false teeth. He's really got enormous choppers, here."
"The Hunter has consumed him and made him a puppet."
Their enemy had turned out to be an extremely skinny white man with wild hair and disturbing large, sharp teeth. Now unconscious, he had succeeded in tearing a great strip of flesh out of Black's arm with those disturbing teeth. The wound looked foul. Already the torn skin had begun to turn dark, and only the quick application of Ana's herbs had stopped the apparent infection.
"Well, it's a cinch his skull isn't crystal, so we ought to keep looking for this treasure Mister Dann assured us would be here."
Black's comments triggered a memory in Quinn, and he studied the unconscious man more carefully.
"Didn't you say Dann had mentioned a guy left behind on the island? Ben something? Couldn't this be him?"
They all considered. Quinn scratched his head.
"You'd think this Mister Dann would have mentioned that his friend had teeth like a wolf's."
"Maybe you were listening to the monkeys."
"Don't start with me, Dras."
*****
"The Spanish navy's just not all they say it is, is it?"
Black smirked, surveying the smoking ruins of the two sloops that had tried to waylay them south of Manjack Cay. His smirk vanished as he caught sight of Dras at the stern, dumping a tray full of fruit and flowers and meat off the side.
"Here now! What's this about, lad?"
"I'm asking Papa Agwe to help us. We need to get to Cozumel before Zipakna. We've got the one skull, but we need to get to the temple of the sun before she does."
"What is this temple?"
"I have no idea."
Quinn joined them.
"NOW can I tell you about the monkeys?"
"Quinn, how many times we have to tell you? Nobody wants to hear about the monkeys."
barsoomcore
Unattainable Ideal
Still going with short updates, sorry folks.
barsoomcore
Unattainable Ideal
I admit it. I'm teasing you.shilsen said:
Graywolf-ELM
Explorer
Gaah no teasing, my constitution is at an all time low. The stress is getting to me.
GW
GW
barsoomcore
Unattainable Ideal
Apologies. More to come...
barsoomcore
Unattainable Ideal
I cannot explain the strange circumstances that have driven us to this shore. We lay off the north coast of Cozumel, where lies this "Temple of the Sun" that young Dras insists we seek.
I understand little of this adventure I find myself caught up in. An unnatural wind, steady and straight as an arrow, blew us here in less time than it took us to reach the Bahamas from Saint-Dominique. It is impossible. Voices moan in the darkness all around the ship, and yet the sailors suffer no fear, no superstition.
Loa, demons, heathen rituals and these terrible crystal skulls. Quinn remains fixated on imaginary beasts, and Ana keeps to her cabin, whittling strange figurines.
For my part, I have become unnecessary. No seamanship was needed to bring us here -- the ship raced before the wind without a hand on the tiller, without a single trim of the sails. My one command on this voyage was to have the anchor lowered the moment the wind died and we found ourselves off Cozumel.
Now we equip us for a journey inland. Rifles, machetes, water, all the provisions of a cross-country expedition. The island slumbers before us, peaceful and without any hint of danger, but I fear what we will find at this temple. I fear that woman, and her evil power. I recall the horrors we witnessed in Cap-Haitien. What awaits us in that jungle?
Should I not return, let those who read this know that I, Rupert Black, here set down as my last wish that my sister, Cecilia Black, of Nottingham, should receive all my worldly possessions.
Excepting any crystal skulls that might be found on my body. Leave those where you find them.
*****
"Oh. Monkeys."
"I told you."
"Big monkeys."
"Yeah."
Dras stared up the steep incline of the temple front. Far up at the top, the woman or demon or whatever she was Zipakna stood, brandishing a knife and shouting incantations as clouds whirled overhead. Rain pounded down onto Dras' face, forcing her squint in order to make out the small figure so far above.
Much easier to see were the two hulking forms halfway down the stairs towards them. Like massive hunched-over men, but with sloping foreheads and immense cords of muscle bulging at their shoulders, the two gigantic apes leered down at the foursome below. Between them stood a slim man with his rapier held out to one side. He gestured lazily and the two apes leapt downwards, arms reaching out to grapple and rend their enemies.
Black, his pistols already out, raised both weapons and pulled both triggers. The rain spoiled one firing, however, and only one gun went off. The bullet was well-aimed, but seemed to have no effect on the onrushing mass of fury and wet fur. He chewed on the cigar in his mouth and backpedalled.
The two immense animals crashed to the ground, one just missing Black as he scrambled aside, the other catching hold of Quinn and slamming the unfortunate Irishman into the soil.
Ana screamed and fell to her knees, diving forward against the huge beast that had just crushed her friend. Black, cursing around the cigar, threw aside the spent pistols and drew two more from behind his back, rewarded this time with two explosions as both went off.
Dras, standing directly between the two creatures, looked up and saw the Spaniard sneering down at her.
"Captain Chacon, I presume?"
"You fools. You have accomplished nothing but make our work easier. Hand over the last skull or you all die here."
"Can you use that sword in your hand, Senor?"
"Come and see."
Dras charged up the steps as Chacon laughed. High above, Zipakna continued to chant.
Quinn's world had suddenly transformed into darkness and pressure. He wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but he was pretty sure one of those monkeys was involved. He squirmed a little and found the wet mud provided less resistance than he'd thought. Huge talons reached down at him but Quinn managed to get a leg underneath himself and sprang blindly forward, scrambling directly under the great beast.
Rolling onto his back, he got a view of the ape's underside.
"Ew."
His cutlass slashed upwards and he kept scrambling as the animal shrieked in sudden agony. Ana grabbed his hand and hauled him up the steps.
"Come on! We've got to stop her!"
"Yeah, right. I was right about the monkeys, see?"
More explosions from below told of Black emptying another brace of pistols, but the roars of the giant gorillas made it clear he hadn't yet triumphed. Ana and Quinn carried on upwards, weaving past where Dras dueled with the Spanish captain.
"Come on!"
*****
Black, out of pistols and now nearly out of sight of the temple, leapt over a fallen tree trunk and unslung the bandolier from around his chest. He sucked on the cigar and touched its glowing tip to the fuse on the first of the grenades. He grinned.
"Got a toy for you, monkey."
*****
Dras spared no more than a glance for her friends as they scrambled past. The Spaniard was good. Very, very good.
And he was standing above her, and both clever and skilled enough to keep her from reaching his height. Dras hadn't had to retreat yet, but the captain was smiling and she was only just managing to deflect his blows.
Past him she could see Zipakna, a tall slender form swaying in the growing wind that began to howl on all sides. Ana and Quinn closed in on her.
Dras applied herself to staying alive. As long as she was keeping this bastard away from her friends, she was helping.
The mammoth explosion from below nearly distracted her, and Chacon's sword grazed her upper arm, leaving an angry searing trail.
Dras swallowed. She hoped Black hurried.
*****
Black ran for it. Behind him, a startled and newly enraged gorilla roared over the body of its mate, and then crashing forestry told him it wasn't about to surrender.
At least he'd gotten between it and the temple. Black burst from the jungle and charged up the steps. Above him he saw Dras fending off that Spaniard's sword with desperate parries, and beyond them Ana and Quinn were cautiously approaching Zipakna. He drew his cutlass and rushed upwards with all the speed he could manage.
*****
Ana stared, wide-eyed, from Zipakna, chanting those horrid, teeth-rattling syllables, to the row of crystal skulls grinning on the altar. She swung her staff and knocked the foul artifacts aside. They crashed to the wet stones around her feet.
Emboldened by her actions, she whirled to face Zipakna again, only to find the tall woman had stopped her chanting and now glared at Ana with unbridled fury.
"You!"
The woman's hand shot out and formed a claw, and Ana felt a terrible tugging at her chest. Screaming, she convulsed and slammed down into the stones.
Below her, Dras felt her foot slip on the slick step and even as she tried to check her balance, she saw the opening in her guard just a moment too late to stop Chacon's thrust. His sword slipped forward and caught her just above her breast. For a second she thought he'd only grazed her, but the blade continued to sink into her torso and Dras stared in sick horror as the length of steel drove into her.
The last thing she saw was Black rushing up behind her. Then she tumbled to the steps and knew nothing.
*****
Quinn sank down to try and help Ana, but the girl thrashed and shrieked helplessly, unaware of him, overcome by the torture that Zipakna was somehow forcing her to endure. He grabbed one of the nearby skulls and flung it at her.
She laughed.
"You are nothing! Witness! The Lords of Xibalba come again to walk the world! My lords! Come forth!"
Behind her a whirling rushing spiral of cloud and darkness formed.
*****
Black's cutlass found Chacon still chuckling, and the Spaniard, more spent from his duel with Dras than he'd realised, fell from the stairs without a sound.
Black looked down at the young woman at his feet. Dras was dead. Blood seeped from the tiny wound on her chest, staining her tunic in the rain.
A small object slipped from her belt as he watched. The razor.
For a second forgetful of the massive gorilla still charging up behind him, Black bent and picked up the tool, still black with dried blood.
Samedi. I will guide your hand, Baron of the Grave. I will weight your sword.
Blinking against rain and tears, Black looked up where Quinn knelt over Ana's twitching body. His eyes met the Irishman's and without thinking, Black hurled the razor at his friend.
Then he disappeared as a mountain of black fur and muscle swatted him off the stairs into the jungle, and plunged after him.
Dras' limp body lay sprawled on the steps, slowly slipping downwards as the rain pounded at it.
Quinn stared at the razor in his hand, aware that Ana had suddenly gone limp. He raised his head and found Zipakna staring at him with sudden concern.
He rose slowly, opening the razor.
"Now, you old witch. You made a fool of me once. Not again."
"Don't be so sure."
Zipakna smiled. She threw her arms out to either side, laughing as the rain plastered her dress to her lush body. The strange portal behind her continued to enlarge and thicken.
"Am I not beautiful? Do you not desire me, mortal? I am Zipakna. I am all your dreams made flesh."
Quinn scowled.
"I think you're flesh, alright."
The razor licked out and slashed at the woman, cutting her hand. She glared for a second at the wound, then at Quinn. He licked his lips, watching the wound close itself.
"I am beyond your power to injure, you fool."
"I see."
"Quinn."
Ana pushed herself up to a sitting position.
"There must be a sacrifice, Quinn."
The sailor exploded.
"There's been enough sacrifices! Dras is dead, Ana! How much more do you want to sacrifice?"
Zipakna laughed. The portal shuddered and strange inhuman figures began to form within it.
"Whatever it takes."
Ana grabbed the razor from Quinn and slashed the blood-crusted blade across her own body, grunting with the pain as her blood spilled out.
Zipakna screamed.
"Ana!"
Quinn dropped to grab the island girl as she arced backwards, making yet another desperate slash across herself. Her wounds yawned with red and bile. She shuddered and went limp, dropping the razor.
In a daze, Quinn turned to see Zipakna, terror on her face, clinging to the stone altar as some dark wind dragged her backwards to where hungry figures awaited.
"No! I'll give you anything. Anything! Throw a skull into the portal, it will seal it, quickly, I beg you!"
She was beautiful, even in her fear. Quinn stared. Got to his feet. Hefted the skull in his hands consideringly.
"Throw it!"
Quinn thought of Dras. Black. Ana. He drew his arm back.
"Catch."
He hurled the skull with all his strength directly at the woman before him. It slammed into Zipakna's face, blood spraying. She shrieked and clutched at herself.
Letting go of the altar.
*****
What can I write? How to describe what we have seen, endured and lost?
Zipakna is gone. We may never know what really happened, but the skulls are now lifeless hunks of crystal. Quinn and Ana share quiet moments on the deck where she recuperates. Dras' body lies in an unmarked grave at the base of a ruined temple.
And I have a trophy that will startle the most well-travelled naturalist, I'm sure. Not even the wildest tales from Africa tell of a monkey like this.
I understand little of this adventure I find myself caught up in. An unnatural wind, steady and straight as an arrow, blew us here in less time than it took us to reach the Bahamas from Saint-Dominique. It is impossible. Voices moan in the darkness all around the ship, and yet the sailors suffer no fear, no superstition.
Loa, demons, heathen rituals and these terrible crystal skulls. Quinn remains fixated on imaginary beasts, and Ana keeps to her cabin, whittling strange figurines.
For my part, I have become unnecessary. No seamanship was needed to bring us here -- the ship raced before the wind without a hand on the tiller, without a single trim of the sails. My one command on this voyage was to have the anchor lowered the moment the wind died and we found ourselves off Cozumel.
Now we equip us for a journey inland. Rifles, machetes, water, all the provisions of a cross-country expedition. The island slumbers before us, peaceful and without any hint of danger, but I fear what we will find at this temple. I fear that woman, and her evil power. I recall the horrors we witnessed in Cap-Haitien. What awaits us in that jungle?
Should I not return, let those who read this know that I, Rupert Black, here set down as my last wish that my sister, Cecilia Black, of Nottingham, should receive all my worldly possessions.
Excepting any crystal skulls that might be found on my body. Leave those where you find them.
*****
"Oh. Monkeys."
"I told you."
"Big monkeys."
"Yeah."
Dras stared up the steep incline of the temple front. Far up at the top, the woman or demon or whatever she was Zipakna stood, brandishing a knife and shouting incantations as clouds whirled overhead. Rain pounded down onto Dras' face, forcing her squint in order to make out the small figure so far above.
Much easier to see were the two hulking forms halfway down the stairs towards them. Like massive hunched-over men, but with sloping foreheads and immense cords of muscle bulging at their shoulders, the two gigantic apes leered down at the foursome below. Between them stood a slim man with his rapier held out to one side. He gestured lazily and the two apes leapt downwards, arms reaching out to grapple and rend their enemies.
Black, his pistols already out, raised both weapons and pulled both triggers. The rain spoiled one firing, however, and only one gun went off. The bullet was well-aimed, but seemed to have no effect on the onrushing mass of fury and wet fur. He chewed on the cigar in his mouth and backpedalled.
The two immense animals crashed to the ground, one just missing Black as he scrambled aside, the other catching hold of Quinn and slamming the unfortunate Irishman into the soil.
Ana screamed and fell to her knees, diving forward against the huge beast that had just crushed her friend. Black, cursing around the cigar, threw aside the spent pistols and drew two more from behind his back, rewarded this time with two explosions as both went off.
Dras, standing directly between the two creatures, looked up and saw the Spaniard sneering down at her.
"Captain Chacon, I presume?"
"You fools. You have accomplished nothing but make our work easier. Hand over the last skull or you all die here."
"Can you use that sword in your hand, Senor?"
"Come and see."
Dras charged up the steps as Chacon laughed. High above, Zipakna continued to chant.
Quinn's world had suddenly transformed into darkness and pressure. He wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but he was pretty sure one of those monkeys was involved. He squirmed a little and found the wet mud provided less resistance than he'd thought. Huge talons reached down at him but Quinn managed to get a leg underneath himself and sprang blindly forward, scrambling directly under the great beast.
Rolling onto his back, he got a view of the ape's underside.
"Ew."
His cutlass slashed upwards and he kept scrambling as the animal shrieked in sudden agony. Ana grabbed his hand and hauled him up the steps.
"Come on! We've got to stop her!"
"Yeah, right. I was right about the monkeys, see?"
More explosions from below told of Black emptying another brace of pistols, but the roars of the giant gorillas made it clear he hadn't yet triumphed. Ana and Quinn carried on upwards, weaving past where Dras dueled with the Spanish captain.
"Come on!"
*****
Black, out of pistols and now nearly out of sight of the temple, leapt over a fallen tree trunk and unslung the bandolier from around his chest. He sucked on the cigar and touched its glowing tip to the fuse on the first of the grenades. He grinned.
"Got a toy for you, monkey."
*****
Dras spared no more than a glance for her friends as they scrambled past. The Spaniard was good. Very, very good.
And he was standing above her, and both clever and skilled enough to keep her from reaching his height. Dras hadn't had to retreat yet, but the captain was smiling and she was only just managing to deflect his blows.
Past him she could see Zipakna, a tall slender form swaying in the growing wind that began to howl on all sides. Ana and Quinn closed in on her.
Dras applied herself to staying alive. As long as she was keeping this bastard away from her friends, she was helping.
The mammoth explosion from below nearly distracted her, and Chacon's sword grazed her upper arm, leaving an angry searing trail.
Dras swallowed. She hoped Black hurried.
*****
Black ran for it. Behind him, a startled and newly enraged gorilla roared over the body of its mate, and then crashing forestry told him it wasn't about to surrender.
At least he'd gotten between it and the temple. Black burst from the jungle and charged up the steps. Above him he saw Dras fending off that Spaniard's sword with desperate parries, and beyond them Ana and Quinn were cautiously approaching Zipakna. He drew his cutlass and rushed upwards with all the speed he could manage.
*****
Ana stared, wide-eyed, from Zipakna, chanting those horrid, teeth-rattling syllables, to the row of crystal skulls grinning on the altar. She swung her staff and knocked the foul artifacts aside. They crashed to the wet stones around her feet.
Emboldened by her actions, she whirled to face Zipakna again, only to find the tall woman had stopped her chanting and now glared at Ana with unbridled fury.
"You!"
The woman's hand shot out and formed a claw, and Ana felt a terrible tugging at her chest. Screaming, she convulsed and slammed down into the stones.
Below her, Dras felt her foot slip on the slick step and even as she tried to check her balance, she saw the opening in her guard just a moment too late to stop Chacon's thrust. His sword slipped forward and caught her just above her breast. For a second she thought he'd only grazed her, but the blade continued to sink into her torso and Dras stared in sick horror as the length of steel drove into her.
The last thing she saw was Black rushing up behind her. Then she tumbled to the steps and knew nothing.
*****
Quinn sank down to try and help Ana, but the girl thrashed and shrieked helplessly, unaware of him, overcome by the torture that Zipakna was somehow forcing her to endure. He grabbed one of the nearby skulls and flung it at her.
She laughed.
"You are nothing! Witness! The Lords of Xibalba come again to walk the world! My lords! Come forth!"
Behind her a whirling rushing spiral of cloud and darkness formed.
*****
Black's cutlass found Chacon still chuckling, and the Spaniard, more spent from his duel with Dras than he'd realised, fell from the stairs without a sound.
Black looked down at the young woman at his feet. Dras was dead. Blood seeped from the tiny wound on her chest, staining her tunic in the rain.
A small object slipped from her belt as he watched. The razor.
For a second forgetful of the massive gorilla still charging up behind him, Black bent and picked up the tool, still black with dried blood.
Samedi. I will guide your hand, Baron of the Grave. I will weight your sword.
Blinking against rain and tears, Black looked up where Quinn knelt over Ana's twitching body. His eyes met the Irishman's and without thinking, Black hurled the razor at his friend.
Then he disappeared as a mountain of black fur and muscle swatted him off the stairs into the jungle, and plunged after him.
Dras' limp body lay sprawled on the steps, slowly slipping downwards as the rain pounded at it.
Quinn stared at the razor in his hand, aware that Ana had suddenly gone limp. He raised his head and found Zipakna staring at him with sudden concern.
He rose slowly, opening the razor.
"Now, you old witch. You made a fool of me once. Not again."
"Don't be so sure."
Zipakna smiled. She threw her arms out to either side, laughing as the rain plastered her dress to her lush body. The strange portal behind her continued to enlarge and thicken.
"Am I not beautiful? Do you not desire me, mortal? I am Zipakna. I am all your dreams made flesh."
Quinn scowled.
"I think you're flesh, alright."
The razor licked out and slashed at the woman, cutting her hand. She glared for a second at the wound, then at Quinn. He licked his lips, watching the wound close itself.
"I am beyond your power to injure, you fool."
"I see."
"Quinn."
Ana pushed herself up to a sitting position.
"There must be a sacrifice, Quinn."
The sailor exploded.
"There's been enough sacrifices! Dras is dead, Ana! How much more do you want to sacrifice?"
Zipakna laughed. The portal shuddered and strange inhuman figures began to form within it.
"Whatever it takes."
Ana grabbed the razor from Quinn and slashed the blood-crusted blade across her own body, grunting with the pain as her blood spilled out.
Zipakna screamed.
"Ana!"
Quinn dropped to grab the island girl as she arced backwards, making yet another desperate slash across herself. Her wounds yawned with red and bile. She shuddered and went limp, dropping the razor.
In a daze, Quinn turned to see Zipakna, terror on her face, clinging to the stone altar as some dark wind dragged her backwards to where hungry figures awaited.
"No! I'll give you anything. Anything! Throw a skull into the portal, it will seal it, quickly, I beg you!"
She was beautiful, even in her fear. Quinn stared. Got to his feet. Hefted the skull in his hands consideringly.
"Throw it!"
Quinn thought of Dras. Black. Ana. He drew his arm back.
"Catch."
He hurled the skull with all his strength directly at the woman before him. It slammed into Zipakna's face, blood spraying. She shrieked and clutched at herself.
Letting go of the altar.
*****
What can I write? How to describe what we have seen, endured and lost?
Zipakna is gone. We may never know what really happened, but the skulls are now lifeless hunks of crystal. Quinn and Ana share quiet moments on the deck where she recuperates. Dras' body lies in an unmarked grave at the base of a ruined temple.
And I have a trophy that will startle the most well-travelled naturalist, I'm sure. Not even the wildest tales from Africa tell of a monkey like this.
