Scanning Proofreading: CSH
Chapter VIII
The next day as we worked our way through that thick jungle in search of the golden country that I totally thought was just a daydream, I was a good distance away from the bound Matson. A bunch of wildly greedy fools.
Martha watched him from time to time, while swinging her head with reproach. Her criticisms were always accompanied by those reproachful words: “I never thought that you would mix with people like Mendez! Mr. Masson, I am so disappointed, how could you betray us? Why?”
“Because you found a bad man.” He declared calmly and solemnly, as if Martha were a child, unable or incapable of recognizing right from wrong.
Then she got annoyed, “You have the flare, and you’re the only one who can signal the stalker in that helicopter gunship.”
However, I kept my opinion in my mind. For whatever reason, though, I began to have doubts about Rory. Is it too much of a description to say that he’s a magician? He did have a knack for pleasing women, yet rarely did he conduct research in the area of movable objects; every day in the past we had come across some particular specimen of orchid, or some special novelty species of frog that looked like it had stemmed eyes, but never once these days had he taken notes or shown a hobby or interest in such and such species. However, I also have to admit that Matson didn’t take a lot of photos either until he was tied up or pushed down the valley.
In any case, I had to keep a certain distance from every other person because of him, and I felt uncomfortable and eager to go home soon.
At sunset, Carla personally decided to stop and declared that she was having trouble accepting the psychic powers of that ancient deity, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying something sarcastic, but frankly I thought she was being too arrogant and was playing the deity trick.
We were all hungry, but none of us had an appetite for the jerky that had lost its moisture. Martha demonstrated by throwing them into a pot of boiling water and cooking them into a beef stew, the worst tasting beef stew I’ve ever had.
We ate without a word, and Margaret stood up with it in her hand, ready to spoon feed it to the still bound Masson.
This afternoon he fell into the silt-filled riverbed in an old fashion and got covered in mud.
A few days ago, he would have made me incredibly happy if he looked like this, now he doesn’t look like this.
After that tedious dinner, we all had nothing to do, or rather, Lori and Carla put their heads together again, and I got a little tired of the rest of the group watching and waiting.
“In case you can’t determine the direction, be sure to wear the mask.” Rory pleaded in his own peculiarly seductive hand gesture.
Kara rested the back of her hand on her forehead, looking troubled. “I’m definitely going to wear it.”
Oh! I wanted to slap her. It was so pretentious.
“You must wear it, Carla, for us. Darling, don’t you see, we’re all depending on you.
”
“Yes, but this sacrifice…”
“Will be worth it,” Lori emphasized, and brought two masks from Martha.
I wondered curiously which one they would actually choose, and I also wanted to know a little more about why Kara felt the need to wear it again; perhaps her connection to the ancient past wasn’t as strong as mine. I knew precisely which way to go, how far Vicar Bamba was located, and that we would arrive there tomorrow. Perhaps she knew exactly, and this move to wear the mask was for another reason entirely. Doubtless it was Rory who had been insisting that she wear it, and, wishing to please him, she had poured out all her strength in using an unknown magical power to make him happy.
She put on the mask and I averted my gaze, determined not to look again, not to be held back by that mysterious power.
Yet even then, I could feel it seeping into my brain, instantaneous thoughts, imagery, occupying a different time and space.
They, Martha and Margaret, bundled Matson into a tree, his body taut, his feet just touching the ground. They both pulled off his shirt and unzipped his pants. I, too, began to undress involuntarily and walked naked toward the men, the mask acting as a narcotic for all of us.
I saw that Inca monarch, the treasure at his feet, a steady stream of gold jetting out of his huge cock, the wind whistling on and on, swooping down on my naked body, bending before him, gold everywhere. My wrists and ankles were shackled, my throat and waist all buried in my own hair.
Rory bent over and lowered me to the ground, as the monarch associated with me, his half-naked body swaying above me, his cock tight and full of desire. He covered my breasts, nipples already aroused and tingling with excitement, with his hands, and I could feel the section of his manhood between my buttocks, knowing exactly what he was going to do. I didn’t want him, I wanted Matson.
As time went on Matson grew less ugly in my eyes and I would rather have his rudeness. I tried to crawl towards him but was unable to move because I was being held down so tightly by Rory and I could see that Margaret was licking and sucking Matson’s manhood and swallowing it all in her mouth, he struggled as if he didn’t like it, and when he glanced over and saw that I was watching, he growled contemptuously and allowed himself to be put at the mercy of that loyal secretary, in order to embarrass me.
Carla stood behind the mask, shaking as if in some kind of trance, chanting incantations under her breath, and I carefully observed the change in the mask’s expression, which gradually transformed into a kind of lecherous, cunning face with lustful eyes, controlling us all at the same time and determining everyone’s emotions.
My whole body was hot and full of arousal, desperately craving to be fucked hard. I squirmed so that Rory couldn’t shove his huge prick up my anus, which I knew he wanted to do. I lay flat on my back and teasingly spread my legs wide apart. He looked so ferocious, as mad as I was, completely at the mercy of the one thing we could never control.
Rory gripped my parted knees tightly and pressed his glans against me, very carefully and slowly stabbing into that sensitive cavern, and I quickly reached a state of extreme arousal. Then that cock churned both long and deep inside me, locking in my cries of pleasure and rubbing the like an animal’s twitching and rubbing. I twisted my legs around him, my ankles crossed to rest on his back as he attempted to kiss me and I twisted my head away.
I felt the arousal rising, a series of faint, low growls occurring as my orgasm approached, and I held onto the man as he convulsed in near agony, then went slack and limp.
Rory didn’t climax and didn’t let go of me as he yanked me to my feet and turned me around on my knees with my back to him while he stroked my anus with his fingers to lubricate it so he could get his manhood in. I knew that he liked my anus. It was obvious, and as he kept twitching his finger, I was so comfortable that I was in a state of clenching, resisting, and squirming, and always masturbating his manhood to keep it tantalizingly firm. Finally, he was out of his manhood and ready to accomplish what he had been longing for. He held the engorged, erect glans in one hand to graze over my wet pussy muscle, while his other hand pressed firmly against my abdomen to pull me closer. He slammed all the way in, holding me hard against it, and needless to say, I was lowering my head too, watching intently as his hated, thick wedge stretched ever so slightly between my ass cheeks. I sensed him shuddering with excitement and intentionally came in tighter so I could hear him moan, and it was no surprise.
He pulled out, leaving just the glans inside, and then pushed in again, completely out of control, and I stayed still and cooperative, my hips high, letting him toss and turn as he pleased as I lifted my head and looked up at what the others were doing.
Carla was slowly approaching Matson, holding her hands high in the air and babbling a distant incantation under her breath. Martha and Margaret stroked various parts of his body, and after some oral worship from Margaret, his penis reared its head back. The behavior of these two women seemed to be completely at the mercy of the mask-wearer.
Martha was swinging next to him, pressed up against a pair of toned, firm breasts rubbing against his shirt-clad back, and Margaret stood in front of him, undulating and jazzed up, her hips frolicking against his manhood, which must have been a tasty piece of taminy smelt.
He seemed to rejoice, and was as much subdued by the spell as the rest, yet his eyes were fixed on me through the interval, with pain and indignation at Rory’s having done me in.
I reached out with one hand and pushed Rory away, using the other to keep my balance, trying unsuccessfully to get away from him. I wanted Mason, and I could tell by the look in his eyes that he wanted me more.
Out of nowhere, I pushed Rory forward with all my might, his cock slipping out of me as I half-crawled, half-run to Matson.
I kissed him passionately, running my hands over his tanned, chiseled chest and pushing Margaret aside.
“Lay down,” came a haughty voice from Kara’s mask that didn’t sound like Kara’s at all, too masculine for such a young and thin young lady.
Margaret immediately complied with the order and flattened herself at Matson’s feet. I hooked my arm hard around Marson’s neck and slid my body down against him, happily impaling his cock inside.
Martha ran out from behind us and intercepted the hobbling Rory, whose cock was hot and huge but had nowhere to go. I thought to myself that he must be suffering from a narrow field of vision, or else his eyes would be glued to my puckered hole.
The thing that seemed to be controlling Kara was now manipulating Yasha with her extraordinary strength. She was seen grabbing Rory by his thick shoulders and throwing him down whole, then mounting him and devouring his cock with her sex in a wolfish manner. She laughed like a maniac and held Rory’s shoulders down so hard that it looked like poor Rory was scared half to death. I had no sympathy for him, did he think this thing was only over the top for other people.
At the same time, I offered Mason an endless stream of kisses, my body pressed against his unhurriedly undulating and fluctuating, and what a wonderful, regular friction. It took a long time before we both climaxed, but the wait was totally worth it, and afterward I wrapped my arms tightly around him and looked at each other with four eyes as we became at peace within ourselves.
With a few moments of surprise, I was amazed to feel the ground on top of me actually move, and looked down to realize that I had been standing on top of Margaret. What on earth had I done? I jumped down in a rush to admit my mistake. She stood up in a heap, as confused as I was, and waved the dust off herself. Lori and Martha had separated and Carla had taken off her mask, the spell lifted.
I hastily wrenched myself out of Matson’s arms, but lifted his pants for him and tightened the zipper before finding my own clothes to cover my nakedness.
Not a single person spoke, not a single person looked anyone else in the eye. It was too much of an indulgence, and anyway it had happened, we were controlled by a kind of magic that made us all restless, to say the least. In fact, I would say that all of us were very much trapped.
Preferring to stay on the sidelines and try to think of something to talk about anything other than what had just happened, we all went to bed early that night. Lovely Margaret didn’t forget to put Matson down from that tree.
We seem to be heading for higher ground. In fact, the gradient was so slight that it was hard to notice. The farther we went the sparser the vegetation became and the humidity was decreasing, so that by sunset the next afternoon we were in rocky terrain and the air was quite dry.
I felt closer to my destination.
We entered a canyon, precipitous on both sides; the towering walls of the gorge, estimated to be perhaps one hundred and fifty feet high, meandered and twisted as if a distant river beckoned us, and kept hinting of what was to be found at the next turn.
At last it appeared, and I already knew that it was Vicar Bamba, or more precisely, its impressive road, lying before our eyes.
With excitement and anticipation, we picked up our pace and ran like children, all wanting to be the first to get there. What followed was great disappointment.
Carved at the foot of the canyon in impressive dimensions is the head of a distinctly ancient entrance Inca monarch, wearing a ceremonial turban, still legible despite centuries of wind and rain, and gazing coolly downward.
With flashlights at the ready, we moved slowly inward through a narrow passageway into a huge empty room, and then a larger one appeared. Eleven in all appeared in the rocky interior of the solid canyon, one more richly carved than the other, most of them seeming to have been used as reception rooms until the last one was furnished with a ceremonial backdrop.
In the last room, a farther wall has been split into an altar. The surrounding area had been carefully carved to reveal a horizontal band of snakes, jaguars, monkeys, and similar animals with native fauna. Looking around the walls, where the yellow light of the flashlight reached, there were carved faces, ugly as if they were criminals, and I was thinking that the Incas were really weird looking.
Beside her, Margaret’s whole body trembled and raised her voice: “It looks really dirty, doesn’t it?”
Matson, who was on the other side of me, chimed in, “A horrible bunch of people.”
Martha was crouching, her flashlight shining on an intricate bas-relief depicting a human sacrifice, the carvings as if they had just been listed back then, not aged by the passage of time. The monk held a heart aloft, and the victim was so lifelike, so vivid. Martha swallowed and turned off her flashlight.
We stood there frozen, not knowing what to do next. In fact it was the discouraging transformation that was the decisive factor; there was no treasure, only empty, sometimes ornately carved stone chambers. Even those carvings are not rare, as all the museums in South America have similar samples.
“We must be in the wrong place.” Rory turned to Kara in condemnation. “You’re all wrong.”
She shook her head, and I daresay she was as disappointed as the rest of us, as if it was all her fault anyway. “No, this is it, I recognize it, I feel it.”
Rory stormed off angrily, the others following in frustration, leaving me and Matson in the rear.
He looked at me wryly. “What did you see?”
I shook my head.
“Too bad.”
“But I feel something, like Kara, and this is it, Matson, this is Vicar Bamba!”
“Too bad it’s not legendary anymore.”
I nodded feebly, my mind somewhat jumbled with thoughts. I shone the light behind me for the bound American. “We’d better catch up with the others.”
He walked ahead and turned back to me and asked, “I don’t suppose you care to cut me loose, do you? Did that seedy donkey’s egg convince you that I was the spy? Tsk, tsk, tsk, I thought you wouldn’t be fooled?”
“I’m not sure what I’m thinking, so there’s no chance of that. Frankly, I don’t trust you in the slightest.” I said coldly.
“Come to think of it, you believed me a few days ago.” He sneered, smugly she grinned as he did so.
It was so insulting that I couldn’t cope with it. But, well… I stretched out my foot and tripped him, and I got a short-lived satisfaction from watching him fall without trying to pull him.
He fell to the ground, grunting in great pain, and I stood over him, my eyes flashing menacingly.
Matson rolled, struggled, shook, and finally got up slowly on his knees, his eyes glaring angrily at him.
Pleasantly, I pushed him against the wall and kissed him hard, all the while admiring the look of surprise growing in his deep, dark brown eyes. He must not have been expecting this.
We backed up to the first room and camped out here in a loser’s mood. This was not at all the ending we had hoped for, and even I, a number one skeptic since the beginning, had to admit an inner desire to discover something, even if it was just a mere smidgen of something thrown down by a previous discoverer.
“Oh, it’s so dark.” A dispirited Martha said. “We expected this might happen, it’s a common occurrence in the study of monuments, there are always site thieves. Think of the pyramids that aren’t all empty.”
“Not always.” Rory corrected grumblingly. “You’re forgetting King Tate’s tomb.”
“That was luck,” she replied, “and nowadays it’s obvious that we’re unlucky, well just this once too.”
“Oh, shut up!” He shouted, while angrily dropping the torch in his hand and striding out as if he wanted to be left alone.
“Pretentious.” I muttered and whispered, watching his angry back fade away, watching that devoted Carla, hurriedly following close behind to try and comfort him.
Instantly I wanted to follow him out myself but stopped, I felt I no longer had anything in common with him, maybe he was very much to my taste but his personality was flawed and in some ways really strange, there was something very wrong with him. I thought that when he began to pour out all his sweet nothings, bad luck was about to strike again. Matson came up to me at this point. “Why don’t you go out with them too and kiss passionately in the dark? Aren’t you worried about Kara stealing your entree?”
I snorted arrogantly. “You know, there’s always going to be another little slip-up.”
I assisted Martha in moving most of our belongings into the first room, where we had decided to spend the night, the hard stone floors were soft with dust that had drifted in from the distant past and centuries. The air was fresh, and it seemed that not all rooms were the same; some chambers were filled with unpleasant odors, as if an animal had once entered.
Rory and Kara returned just before dark, she looked a little foolish and by this time he was less annoyed and even a little worried What?
After dinner, I felt still in a state of depression, and finally managed to get into my sleeping bag, ready to get rid of the double fatigue caused by the new frustration.
If we had found the Golden Country, surely the group would not have slept; we would have partied all night, and Martha would have opened the wine that is prepared only for such occasions. But it was not so now; there was no drinking and merry-making, and yet, at any rate, it was an eventful night.
I slept intermittently, my mind filled with all sorts of ancient imaginings, flashes of long civilizations. Waking up from too much sweltering heat, as if suffering from claustrophobia in the darkness, I unzipped my sleeping bag so that I could cool myself off.
I heard some low, weak voices, whispers that reminded me of cartoon drawings of rats fast and squeaking, and I fumbled for the flashlight, screwed it on and scanned the room along the column of light. Matson was huffing and puffing, looking uncomfortable because he was tied up like a chicken ready to be roasted. Martha was frowning and still seemed disappointed despite being in a dream. Margaret was sleeping soundly, a strand of hair fluttering back and forth across her cheek due to her breathing. Lori and Carla were gone.
The two of them seemed to be disappearing a lot lately for private, intimate conversations, and I decided to go snoop around a bit.
Whispers were coming from the rooms within. Keeping my torch pointed at the path ahead of me, my body pressed against the cool walls as I slowly moved forward, I was able to make out what they were saying as I neared reaching the sixth house.
“It didn’t prompt,” Kara was saying, her voice apologetic.
“It will get better honey, it will, don’t be impatient, just relax and make your mind think of nothing. Come here and let me massage your shoulders. You’re too tense.”
“That’s because I know how much it all means to you, Lori… dear.”
“Alright, don’t think about anything right now it’ll feel better.”
I could assert that he was by now toying with other places than her shoulders. When I reached the seventh room, I turned off the flashlight, yet groped my way forward with extreme caution in the direction of the faintest light.
“Oh, it’s so cozy.” Kara giggled.
I peered into that corner and then quickly returned to where I wouldn’t be seen. Yes, that’s right, Carla was sitting on the edge of the altar with her pants down and her legs spread wide. Rory was crouched between Carla’s legs and was pleasuring her with his tongue, how hard he was working to get what he wanted from this young lady. I moved slowly, peering at them with one eye.
Their flashlights were resting on the altar behind Kara, her body blocking out a large portion of the light, and I felt very safe in such a dim situation.
She leaned back, her hands supporting her body as she curved in ecstasy. Rory peeled her cunt lips apart with his fingers and stroked them with his tongue, then licked in as deep as he could. A violent gurgling sound came from her throat.
He drew his body out, “Try that mask again.”
“Oh, don’t stop, darling.” She prayed, all the places he had licked and sucked glowing.
“Try this mask again.” He bargained.
She held the mask close to her face and tried it on.
My heartbeat increased with fear as it became clear that the damn thing would be subject to a kind of magic, but this time I seemed to be spared disaster and felt nothing, the mask having lost its effectiveness. Kara was obviously reluctant to tell Rory everything just like that, perhaps fearing that if she did, he would not fulfill her sexual needs.
“See what?” He desperately wanted to know, his tongue fluttering briskly over her bud-like cuntband, his hands caressing all the way from her thighs to her knees.
“I’m not so sure…”
She’s a crafty bitch who just doesn’t want him to stop.
“Make it clearer for me, honey.” Rory said as he unzipped his own pants and spread her legs apart until he tucked them in. “Try to do this for me because I love you and I want to marry you. The thought never crossed my mind before, no one has ever made me think this, I need you, I want to have you forever.”
I took a deep breath and gasped, feeling only saddened rather than outraged. This vile bastard, he had said the exact same thing to me! Even the meaningful kiss given later was simply a replica of the passionate kiss he would have given me.
In disgust I crept away. While walking to the second room, I murmured with skeptical anguish that I found it difficult to fall asleep again and wanted a drink.
I screwed on my flashlight and walked into our makeshift kitchen and began searching for the liquor bag with my naked eye. This rather heavy army multi-purpose backpack had been in Jack’s care until his death. I hated that Ben hadn’t considered getting caught until I found the metal bottle of brandy and immediately took a sip gosh it was choking, a second sip didn’t feel too bad, then a third sip was too much, then many sips at once.
At the moment I felt the wine rushing through my nerves and felt slightly better, I stood up and then wanted to go to the convenience of the room, so I walked outside.
The walls of the canyon are lined with tiny, exposed rocks at regular intervals, a comical situation because no one will see me, but I keep moving forward until I get behind the first small rock and hide, then pull down my pants and crouch down for easy access, all the while gazing around me at the rocks that feel too small to be of any use. I longed to be crowded, the stressful life of London, the tube.
After relieving myself I stood up and zipped up my zipper, taking just one step from behind the natural barrier when I suddenly stopped in horror. The deep purple, starlit sky erupted into a snowy, white-orange luminescence that illuminated everything in a ghostly, ghastly whiteness.
Someone has sent up a flare.
I couldn’t help but look towards the entrance to the Inca monument, where Rory appeared as clear as day, apparently firing flares. After an initial rocket-like hiss, there was silence, except for a blinding glare that seemed to last for a few minutes and could be seen for hundreds of miles. How convenient that he was signaling someone with the flare that had plagued Masson, it was much more effective than shooting.
I didn’t like that, not at all. With that I was convinced that Matson’s analysis of Rory was correct, and that the rifle shot in the first place must have been a signal to the Mendez helicopter.
I had to return to the shrine to alert the others, but Rory stood in my path of necessity, and although the light from the illuminator was fading, the wavering columns of torchlight gave away his position.
He walked down the creek valley and stood in a gradually opening area in that dry creek bed, which, I suspect, he must have thought was spacious enough for a helicopter to land.
I moved carefully forward like a spider on a wall, then quickly and noiselessly burst into the first room and shook Masson sharply awake, while at the same time cutting the rope around his wrists with my own dagger.
“Shh!” I warned him, “Rory is doing something… releasing one of your flares. I think he’s signaling that helicopter… to Mendez. They’ll probably be here in a few minutes.
”
As soon as the words were out of our mouths, we heard the familiar spiraling noise, growing louder and louder.
Kara was woken up just as she fell asleep after failing in her efforts to feel the ancient mask, blinking awake and grumbling.
Martha woke up immediately, “The helicopter,” she said, seemingly awakened by its clamor rather than our talking.
“We got it,” Matson said as he waved his flashlight around, trying to see where the rifle was placed.
I had a bad feeling they had been taken outside by Lori.
“What happened?” Margaret desperately wanted to know.
“Rory betrayed us, Mendez is about to arrive.” Martha explained calmly, slightly worried, she was indeed calm and once again I found myself having to admire her.
Carla desperately touched her head in disbelief and screamed. “I don’t believe it, it could never be Rory, he said he loved me and we were going to get married.”
“Kara,” I told her nonchalantly and frankly, “Rory is a liar, and he told me the exact same thing once. He wants to make us happy because he understands that we’re useful and that you helped him find this place.”
“That can’t be true.” She sniffled.
“Apparently the truth is indeed as Martha said.”
Margaret nodded. “Yes, he had used those same tactics against me, and at first I believed him, until I realized later that he was cuddling and fondling Sidney.”
“It looks as if we’ve all been possessed.”
“In any case, I don’t think that’s the worst of it; besides, he’s capable of worse.” Matson said warningly, filling us all with foreboding. “He takes away the rifles and we can’t even defend ourselves.
”
Speaking of the devil, Rory appeared at the porch. Dawn was fast approaching, and the scant light in the dimness could only distinguish his silhouette.
“I regret to warn you so early. Without assistance, I am afraid. Please, all of you, step outside.”
The helicopter descended slowly and landed smoothly on a spot hastily prepared by Rory with torches, a behemoth painted in gray and green camouflage colors, with dust that made our eyes glaze over, and the deafening roar of the propellers. As soon as the plane landed, the hatch was quickly opened and heavily armed jungle guerrillas jumped down one by one, neatly lined up in rows of two, their hand-held light machine guns trained on us, the face of the South American rebels. I daresay all of us were shivering in our boots, but even stranger was Rory, who was with us facing the muzzle of the rifles, and whose danger seemed to be hidden in the crotch of his pants.
The pilot switches off the engine and the propeller slows down. At last we were able to open our eyes fully again and spit out the dust that had been flying into our mouths.
I was looking at Mendez, the drug lord, the number one criminal, Mr. Nestor, who I hoped looked like Castro, smoking a thick Havana cigar. Then this tall, leggy, yes, even thinner than my legs, beautiful South American climbed out and slapped her thighs with a short riding crop with a loop. I almost giggled, this couldn’t be real, it was a high class joke, she was amazing, all pure white, elaborate tights that made Martha’s ordinary walking clothes ordered for the jungle that much less impressive.
She strides up to us, full of personality and slowly oozing confidence, and it seems that Rory’s trembling is anything but amazing.
“How unfortunate!” Martha exclaimed, “I should have expected Mendez to be a woman.”
Rory ran over to her and saluted her while welcoming her with a groveling display.
I gazed at Masson, whose eyebrows were raised oddly and looked twistedly ridiculous. He must be secretly delighting in all this in his own peculiarly odious way.
Apparently Mendez was just a woman who didn’t like everything she heard from the sharp-tongued, solicitous Lorry. She stopped abruptly, fixed him with a stare that would have solidified the molten lava of Mount Etna from fifty yards away, and proceeded to spout half a dozen well-chosen contemptuous words.
Rory, now sweating profusely and looking so pathetic, nodded uncontrollably and rubbed his hands together, begging for her forgiveness. Apparently they were talking about treasure, or, more precisely, nothing at all.
She seems to be commenting that he is responsible for this failure.
The two of them conversed mostly in Spanish, and I didn’t understand a word of it, but a few words of English were occasionally interspersed, so it wasn’t hard to get the gist of it.
“Nothing?”
“Yes, nothing, I’m sorry; we got the wrong information.”
“Not even a little something.”
“Not even a crumb.”
More unintelligible munching and hurried conversation followed, and then, “This is impossible,” snarled Mendez, as she ordered her men to search the sanctuary in the rocks. They returned ten minutes later, the leader shaking his head negatively and reporting that what Rory had said was true.
She raised her hand and hit I mean hit Rory with another slap on the other side of her face, stomping her foot angrily as Rory covered his head with his arm in self-defense. I noticed her gorgeous little gray goat boots, undoubtedly from Italy.
“Stupid!” It was one of the more temperate sentences she used to chastise him.
“Surely you’ve noticed that she’s very dissatisfied?” Masson desperately wanted to know, which was as ironic as all that had happened to Rory.
“I wonder if he also told her things like, I love you and I’m going to marry you?”
“I don’t think he dares yet.”
Had we not been in such a complicated situation, we would have found the pantomime amusing. However, the hand-held light machine guns were more than a little depressing.
The fact that Rory was that spy was nothing surprising, but the fact that Mendez was a woman was surprising.
We returned to the first room together in pairs. Sitting together in a circle in the corner. Watched by a group of guys who look like mercenaries.
Mendes came over to us and stood with her legs spread wide, watching us closely, and purposely pretending to give her thighs a light smack with the riding crop in her hand, when she should have put on another big Namba. She was a showman and wanted us to applaud the performance, or at the very least be impressed.
She smiled, her teeth snow-white and neat against her tanned face. It was not a trustworthy or friendly smile; if a rattlesnake could smile, it would look like this.
“My associate, Mr. Lorry, told me there was no treasure here and no gold. I was so disappointed I said it would never happen, we must try harder, Miguel.” She looked at one of the soldiers and held out her hand. “Bring the mask.”
I was almost expecting him to rattle his heels and do the Nazi pose, and was disappointed he didn’t.
From under the dry straw of a wooden crate, he pulled out a mask, and another. Our group of captives in the corner exchanged confused looks, how many masks were there? How many masks are there? Is this last mask real or a fake?
“Now,” said Mendez, “which of you still has this?”
“She,” Rory said while pointing to Kara.
She glanced at him in disgust. “You stupid ass.”
Such a reprimand he evidently no longer cared for; he was trembling unceasingly with something very dreadful, and beads of perspiration were continually falling on a forehead which only a week before I had always regarded as immensely perfect and handsome.
“Stand up,” Mendez ordered.
Carla resolved to keep her mouth shut and stand up. I had to admit she was courageous, she wasn’t intimidated at all.
“Put on the mask.”
Carla promised to do as she was told and nothing happened.
“You didn’t try,” said Mendez in a low, threatening voice.
Kara took off her mask and told the woman grimly, “I don’t have to try. If the gods wanted to send their messages and images, they would do it naturally, and I hate that Ben can’t dictate it. Nothing has shown since we arrived in this place, no signs at all.”
Mendez gazed at her emotionally. “You are an extremely outspoken girl and I don’t like your attitude, sit back down again for me. Where is the other mask?”
Rory quickly pulled out the other two masks, ready to regain his favor in any way possible in desperation.
“Matson brought one too.”
“There are three?” She thought for a moment. “Where did Masson get his mask?”
Masen squeaked, “I met a man in Manaus who said he could sell me the key to Vicar Bamba. I paid him the equivalent of a month’s salary for the thing, and frankly, I think I got ripped off.”
“Hey,” Mendez was heard to step back slightly. “Have these women put them all on, maybe the magic will be a little stronger.”
I was ordered to stand up, then Martha. Putting on our masks, the three of us stood together full of indecision and fear, hoping that some phenomenon would occur that would give us back our time. I’m not sure if the other two had the same idea as I did, but I’m absolutely sure they did, and there was no doubt that we were all playing the same role.
After a while, Mendes stood up before us, waiting impatiently, the riding crop tapping in his palm, nothing happening, and then I felt myself gradually moving backward, backward to the point where snippets of history flashed before my eyes, vivid and fragmentary. When was that?
I was with the Inca monarch. No, no, I was the Inca monarch, and from my lofty stone throne I gazed downward at my subjects, who bowed down before me, trembling unceasingly with terror. The apostate was dragged before me, handsome, dark-haired, and he stretched out his hands to me pleadingly, his eyes in agony. I paid no attention to his begging, and ordered him to be sacrificed. He was dragged away with a mournful shriek that seemed to penetrate the vaulted stone house.
The sacrifice began just after dusk, all the bodies bobbing, heads drilling, my ears filled with the rhythm of their kind of excited breathing. They were writhing at my feet, legs coiled, bodies twisted around each other like a piece of baked live fish, a sea of screaming longing, a topsy-turvy worship of the human shell.
The blurred landscape gradually cleared up as I left that distant place and slowly moved forward, beginning to learn little by little about my surroundings and the people who inhabited them.
Masson, Lori, the mercenary, Mendez, and Margaret were doing the most extraordinary things to each other, clinging to each other under the magic exercised over them by a few of us who wore masks.
Rory lay twisted and slurred, seemingly afflicted by some unknown affliction, while desperately clawing at the rocky floor.
Matson was kneeling at my feet, his face squeezed tightly against my pants-clad sex, his arms wrapped around me, holding me like handcuffs, and I couldn’t move at all, yet I felt so safe.
The mercenaries, propped up on their hands and knees, their pants down and their pricks fully exposed, crowded into the house, thrusting their cocks into the nearest neighbor’s buttocks, pumping their slender cocks ceaselessly from those in desperate offering, straining buttocks, with great sharp pushes and grunts coming from the slender ones as well as from the thicker ones.
Matson yanked me down to my knees as soon as he could, while fumbling haphazardly with my pants in a trance-like state.
The sound of so many fucks and bah humbugs in front of me had really turned me on and I couldn’t help but help him.
I spread my own kneeling legs and held his burning, swollen manhood, placing the glistening glans of crystalline love juice to the open door of pleasure and rubbing the pearly droplets that seeped out tightly onto the top of my own sex as he moaned, desperate and thirsty, even a little frenzied to impale himself on me. I had longed for him to do this, so I didn’t stop him, and after much adoration he plunged into me with a sharp thrust. We squirmed as one, gasping raggedly, our four hands clasped together possessively.
Over his shoulder I saw that Carla was now kicking Rory. Martha was very quiet, rather like a statue, except for the lightest of shudders that continued to run through her body, and she was indeed in a deep state of ecstasy, but the most startling of all were Margaret and Mendez.
They lay curled up intimately on the hard floor, lovingly tonguing and sucking each other’s sexes, finding the tight folds and the most sensitive centers of sensuality, licking and sucking, and probing with their tongues to make them bulge; they forgot everything around them, and fell under the spell of the ancient symbols.
Masson pumped harder, causing me to resist the urge to cry out as well, to stay close to him at all costs. His hands covered my hips, spreading me hard to meet the need and caress of his powerful offense. The turning point for both of us came quickly, we scratched, kneaded, rocked and clenched our teeth as our muscles squeezed and shuffled against each other seemingly followed by an orgasm where even our lives and souls came from him, as we gradually became one.
One by one, the other occupiers in the room regained their senses and were deeply dismayed at their wretched and distressed state, and unintentionally I noticed that some of the mercenaries were clearly horrified by their behavior. They zipped themselves up, their faces red with shame, unwilling to glance at anyone next to them.
Carla stopped kicking Lori, and Martha’s body shook with a groan as she released her stiffness.
She was a little unsteady on her feet and clung to the wall to support her body.
The only two people who did not show discomfort were Mendez and Margaret. It was a long time before they had satisfied their bodies’ ardent desire to be released from their disoriented trance, but the two still clung to each other, their eyes, smiles, and gentle caresses filled with endless love and compassion.
Matson looked at it and then said, “Well, well, what do you think?”
“She’s finally showing some hobbies,” I snorted, extremely angry at myself for having sex with him again. An excessive habit was forming that I deeply resented, but couldn’t seem to resist.
He raised one eyebrow obliquely : “This woman is just trying to take advantage of my knowledge.”
I was opening my mouth, ready to give Mendez a sharp, piercing retort when she cross-examined, “You two have had enough fun, what did you see, and where is the gold?”
“Nothing, unfortunately,” I said while shaking my head.
“Me too.” Kara said.
“Me, too,” asserted the ashen-faced Martha, who was wearing such a mask for the first time, and was clearly shaken by the experience.
“You lie.”
The three of us shook our heads firmly.
“Be warned.” I explained to her magnanimously, as if she were an idiot; “There was nothing there but an orgy. That’s why we’re all acting like this… we’re all having sex… Rory is being kicked all the time, and in the hallucination he’s actually a sacrificial heart being plucked out of his living flesh, but there’s no gold.”
Rory swallowed desperately, feeling uneasy.
Her eyebrows locked into a frown and her lips pursed thinly, “You also spoke out of turn, I don’t like you and I don’t want to hear from you again.”
“But you asked…”
The horsewhip snapped on one side of my head, immediately making my ears perk up.
“Hey,” Masen yelled, “that’s enough…”
The soldiers quickly surrounded him, pointing machine guns at him so that he raised his hands pleadingly and smiled at Mendez’s total insincerity her. “All right, all right.”
Mendez raised one eyebrow. “She’s your girl?”
“Oh, no,” laughed Masson, “of course not!” I exclaimed, as if that were the most ridiculous association I had ever heard.
Mendez looked in a bad mood indeed, and snapped at Rory and his men for a while before leaving the two soldiers in the house and walking himself outside, now that the sky had turned completely bright.
“I guess you can tell us what else is going to happen, Lori? It wouldn’t hurt you.” Matson said.
“The rest of them will be arriving soon, and she is going to join them.”
“The rest of them?”
“A ground unit that arrived a day after us because a wounded soldier had to be airlifted out.”
“Sounds like she’s got an army.” I murmured.
“There are more than thirty guerrillas cooperating in this operation.”
“At least we should have heard them moving in the jungle, sensed being followed or something.
“I don’t know,” Martha said.
“You guys felt it a little bit,” Rory said unflinchingly, “They killed Jack.”
Martha was filled with panic. It was very obvious that the man’s death didn’t bother him at all.
“He was a threat… had to be removed.” Lori said. “Actually, I never had any personal enmity with him, but the man turned out to be a commando and knew how to use a gun.”
“Did Mendez’s men kill Jack?”
Rory nodded, “A man used a blow-pathos so that you would think the drow did it.”
“But there were indeed Indians.” I said, my brain scrambling but unwilling to admit the truth.
“It was pure coincidence that Colin met them occasionally. But it’s much more favorable to me because it solidifies the claim that it was the Indians who did it.”
“What favor did Mendez give you, Rory?” Masson wanted to know, a snarling threat in his voice, but couldn’t do anything because the soldier was on the sidelines so he couldn’t do anything.
“We used to be lovers, that’s how I met her many years ago in Poriz when I was serving in the British Army as a reformer, bootlegger of arms, supplying mercenaries to go and champion Marxism against fascist dictatorships. There are still large numbers of such people in Central and South America today. This particularly daring operation had been planned for a long time, and we knew that there must be some element of truth in the legend about Vicar Bamba, while gathering all sorts of trivial information. We endeavored to piece this information together, but without real success. So when we heard of Martha’s adventure, we decided that when the explorers had completed this grueling task to find their destination, our men would also arrive at the appointed place within the expiration date and relieve you of your unwieldy gold and silver treasures.”
“Only nothing?” Martha thought of him sadly, “Jack died for nothing.”
“Yes, there’s nothing here.” He agreed with a grimace.
“But this Mendez woman didn’t hit me, and was calm enough to accept such a setback.
”
“No, she’s greedy and insatiable, and that’s one of her biggest failures.”
“That’s nasty,” I said, while realizing that I could hardly feel an ounce of sympathy for him; his hands were covered in blood.
“What’s her real name?” Masson was filled with curiosity and desperately wanted to know.
“It’s Mendez. She always lied about Mendes being a man, it was safe and made her laugh.
”
“That’s funny.”
“It’s interesting, but it won’t help you, Matson, news like that will take you to the grave, and you have to understand that the more you know the less you’ll get out of here alive. We won’t allow that. Foolish talk costs lives, and all that will survive is mine and Mendez’s, and keeping you poor unfortunate people silent forever will not be a matter of conscience for me. You understand the danger, and it is unfortunate that your luck is all over.”
“And what will your luck be, scum?” I reminded him. “I see Snow White and the evil stepmother have been synthesized into one, and she’s not happy with you, Rory, so don’t get too happy old lover.”
He inhaled confidently. “I have a specialized knack for women, as you know all too well, Sidney. I’ll persuade her to come around, it’s just dispensable wealth, and she’s already very rich.”
“Good luck all the way.”
He almost said “Thank you” before he could think of a more appropriate word. He resumed his unfeeling demeanor and strutted out.
Events then unfolded at a frightening pace. We heard the helicopter start up with a clamor, heard Mendez shouting orders, and then the ground appeared in the doorway, tossed his head violently to implor the guards to stand down, and then smiled at Margaret.
“I promise you a lifetime of honor and riches and the possession of sweet love, will you stay with me?”
Margaret is conflicted, wanting to go but not willing to abandon her friend at the most difficult time.
Martha encouraged her. “If you want to go, go. Every one of us won’t think you’re a bad person, and you have a choice in life, Margaret.”
“Life and love,” said Margaret, nodding her head violently as she spoke, her face beaming with joy, and she flung herself at once into Mendez’s arms. The woman in the snow-white suit gave her a strong, passionate kiss, and then pushed her out of the doorway as she glanced at her watch.
“What the hell happened?” Masson asked sharply, and along his backbone he anticipated a tingling sensation of fear.
“Don’t move for two minutes or you’ll be in danger, if not killed.”
“What the hell did you guys do?”
She hated Ben for ignoring him. “Bye.”
“I’m not going to just sit here.” Matson was furious and rose to his feet in a flash.
Like a rugby ball, I went berserk and tripped him up with one arm around his legs, “Don’t be stupid, if you run out of here maybe they’ll kill you, they’re probably waiting with their guns at this very moment.”
“I doubt it,” he argued, “didn’t you hear the helicopter’s had taken off.”
He was right, but I still wouldn’t let go of my hand. “Please wait, she warned so sternly and understandably.”
An explosion ensued, causing the entire canyon around us to rumble and shake.
Kara screamed at the top of her lungs and clung to Martha, trying to shrink as small as possible.
“God!” Masson shouted and jumped in surprise.
“What the hell is going on?”
“A big bang.”
The dust was thick and suffocating as it fell on us with bursts of wind.
“Is it two minutes yet?” Masson asked over the popping roar.
“Yes, definitely here.” I replied loudly while nodding my head in case he couldn’t hear me.
Cautiously, he and I walked slowly forward to the entrance of the Inca temple, well aware of what had happened here. Explosives had been placed at the main entrance and tons of large chunks of rock and debris had fallen from the explosions.
“We’re buried alive here.” I hooted with great horror, while cautioning myself never to become hysterical.
“I see light, it’s a crack, you see?” He said hopefully, as he climbed up the pile of gravel.
Exactly right, there was indeed a small crack there that allowed him to see out, only it was surrounded by huge rocks that were impossible to move. I followed him as he edged upwards, pressing my head against him, keeping a careful eye out and inhaling several mouthfuls of air that was full of dust. I was on the verge of tears, and could feel a whimper welling up in my throat.
At the moment we heard the helicopter circling overhead, probably having flown out of the canyon. We were both thinking that the pigs were about to leave and leave us here to fend for ourselves when a chilling squeal penetrated the stone room, continued to get louder and louder, then there was a whirring sound, and then silence.
My eyes expanded at once, “Bravo, merciful God!”
“That’s Lori,” Matson said, just in case I had any doubts or closed my eyes, because this was not a pleasing scenario. “The entree left.”
“Heh, heh, so funny and witty. What an unforgiving, not at all stupid woman.
“I’m sorry,” I said as I swallowed the alimony juice in my throat. He must have been thrown out of the helicopter and dropped vertically two hundred feet to the ground and died.
“We’d better get back and tell the others.” Masson said, while taking his eyes off the hideous, horrible rubble.
“Which comes first, the good news or the bad news?”