Chapter 3 (Adam Novus Chronicles - Book 1)

The next morning started normally; well, what can be considered normal for the Amazon jungle. Howler monkeys were doing their thing and numerous birds were making an unholy noise. Luckily, there was an army of insects to keep us occupied. I did everything like the day before; not to do so would’ve made my would-be executioners’ highly suspicious. We continued the trek to the location on the map. By my calculations, we would reach it by the end of the day, and I would finally see what the hell we were doing this deep in the Amazon Jungle.

“Are we getting close to the site?” The captain asked me some time later. The same damned question, just with different words, for the fifth bloody time today, dissatisfied with the rate of our progress. He was like an annoying kid, sick of the car ride.

“We should be there in an hour,” I replied without even consulting the map, simply subtracting from the time I told him two hours ago.

He absent-mindedly nodded, slapping his shoulder and making a red stain out of a mosquito, filled to the brim with his blood. My advice that he should rub a paste I made from pulped Arrieras Ants on his skin, was met with considerable disdain, and his men followed his example. It was an ancient native technique I picked up on one of my earlier missions, and it worked like a charm. Whatever chemical bug repellent they were using was failing to do as advertised, or was simply wrong for this environment. It gave me great pleasure to see them all slapping themselves silly while small bloodsuckers were avoiding little old me in a wide circle.

Finally, after fourteen days of trekking through the jungle, we arrived at the coordinates marked on the map.

There was no terrorist camp, as that weasel Bill vaguely implied, and I wasn't expecting one. However, there was a structure at the exact coordinates I was provided when we set on this jungle walkabout. It looked positively ancient, and if you stood a dozen feet away from it, it appeared as nothing more than just another rock formation jutting from the jungle floor. But up close, one could see distinctive tool marks.

“This is what we were looking for,” said Captain Jenkins, giving me one of his rare smiles. “We need to get inside,” he said, looking at his men.

I had no intention to be left out and lose the prize; the only reason why I stayed with these people. And so I casually said, “I’ve been in a few similar old ruins; they are often packed with predators that made them their lairs, and a few species of poisonous spiders and snakes especially love such places. Don't forget the man-made traps, they are always the killer.” I stated, giving him the reason to take me along. I bet he had planned to leave me outside, to guard the jungle.

He turned to me with a somewhat apprehensive look on his face, “Fine, you’ll lead, half of us will be your backup; the other half will stay outside to guard.”

It was hard not to make a triumphant face, or show any sign of satisfaction. This was it; if things went according to my plan, I would be parting company with Jenkins and his men, the very same day. Hopefully, a lot richer with whatever was the objective of this mission.

We went around the structure slowly; the trees had grown so close over time, obscuring it from view. This thing was massive, on an awe-inspiring scale. I could not imagine how old it was or what civilization made it, the stones were covered with lichen and moss, making it virtually invisible from the air. The fact that it was even discovered is a small miracle, despite its size.

After another half an hour following its sides, we came across the one that had steps leading up the slope. Visibility was better here and I realized that the whole structure was, in fact, a pyramid, similar to Mayan pyramids I saw one time in Chichen Itza. Except, this one was too far from the Yucatan, where they were; it just didn't add up. Besides, the Temple of Kukulcan was puny compared to this monstrosity, and only the lowered terrain configuration made it so that it didn’t stick out in the air, above the green canopy.

In theory, I knew that the jungle had many undiscovered mysteries. Who knows how many civilizations have risen and then fallen into obscurity here? The jungle hides all remains and the history of humanity is still mostly unknown. Archaeologists in these parts of the world are constantly finding new sensational discoveries that fill the newspapers for a few days until some politician is caught with a hand in a cookie jar, and then he takes over the headlines.

Using machetes, we made passage up the steps, which didn't go all the way to the top. Somewhere in the middle of the slope, they stopped in front of big stone doors. They were worn by millennia of rains and storms and only a few vague figures and unfamiliar writings could be recognized on the surface. I could make out a few faces in deep agony, giving me a very troubling feeling. On top of that, the big stone slab didn't look so much as a door, but a seal; like someone really wanted this opening to stay closed.

The captain turned to one of his men and ordered, “Blow it open.”

The man opened his backpack and took out a square package that I recognized immediately. It was an olive-drab, Mylar-film-covered brick with a pressure-sensitive adhesive tape on one side, covering 1.25-pounds of C-4 plastic explosive.

Years ago, my explosives instructor scientifically explained, “Once the blasting cap is inserted, Mr. C-4 is not our friend. If you are in close vicinity when he says boom, you are going to regret it.” Relying on those sage words, I started going down the steps, followed closely by Jenkins and the others.

This did not sit well with me, the desecration of a structure that seemed older than Christ. People built it block by block, hauling stones from God knows where, and then spent countless hours carving the hard stone with primitive tools. Now we came, so-called civilized men, to blow it to smithereens with high explosives. It seemed so sacrilegious, a truly barbarian act. Not that I would try to stop what was about to happen since it wouldn't do any good to go against Jenkins and his merry bunch. I haven't forgotten (even for a second) that these people planned to blow my brains out the moment I stop being useful to them.

I found a nice thick tree to hide behind and a few minutes later, a loud explosion broke the relative peace of the jungle. The sky filled with birds that had their daily rest so rudely interrupted; everywhere around us, animals started running in the opposite direction of the booming noise.

When we returned to the opening, the stone slab was mostly gone and only a dark hole remained, surrounded by a few jagged edges. There was nothing to do except to enter it.

With a deep breath, I made the first step, using a flashlight to light the interior. A long empty corridor covered with enough spiderwebs to give it that genuine spooky feel of horror movies. I had to stop and use a makeshift torch to burn my way through the lifelong effort of countless spider generations. Jenkins and his men followed me, keeping some ten feet of distance between us.

After walking to the end of the corridor, there was a turn to the left and stone stairs that lead down. One set of stairs was not too bad, but if you are going down one set after another for half an hour, it can get a little boring. Go down twenty-five stairs, turn left or right, go down twenty-five more, do the same, until the last set of stairs ended at the beginning of a long corridor. I don’t think that it would be possible for the ancient builders to do all this if it wasn't for the fact that this was done in what appeared to be a natural cave system. There were clues on the walls that it was not all man-made; nature had her hand in creating these passages. The builders used them as a guide and tidied it up in some places. Oh, yeah, and then they built a freaking pyramid above it.

By now, we were a long way from the surface, deep underground. Why the hell someone felt the need to build all this was unsettling. People generally try to bury things that present some sort of danger or to hide something valuable. I was OK with the second one, but the possibility of the first reason was making me anxious, considering I was first in line for any nasty surprise. So far, we didn't encounter any booby traps, but I looked for them all the time; there was no need to lose my life because Jenkins wanted me to hurry.

The air had turned musty and more humid than in the jungle above. This corridor was a lot different than the one at the pyramid’s entrance; it had quite detailed and horrific scenes carved on its surface and they were perfectly preserved. I’ll say this, the artist had some issues that would require a long session with an army of therapists. These stone carvings were like looking at depictions of Hell, with countless acts of agony and torture. Almost every way a person can be killed was immortalized in the rock.

After a few hundred feet, we could see a faint light at the end. That was surreal; light this deep underground was not even slightly expected. A few of the men started saying quiet prayers, freaked out of their minds with this place. I kept my cool, thinking about the prize that was waiting for me, and a way to give them all the slip.

The sight that opened before us was beautiful and baffling. The corridor ended in an enormous cave; the end couldn't be seen with our flashlights, and the ceiling shone with a pale blue light. Looking closer, I could see thousands of small glow-worms producing bioluminescence and giving pale light that made the cave downright eerie.

The thing that drew everyone's attention was a man-made stone platform that was connected with the tunnel by a long bridge made out of immense stone blocks. The platform was round and about one hundred fifty feet from one end to the other. All over the surface, odd symbols were carved into the rock, making concentric circles that grew smaller as they went from the edge to the center.

But the most baffling thing was placed in the center of the platform. A small pyramid, some thirty feet high, and by my guess, an exact miniaturized replica of the one on the surface.

“OK boys, this is what we came for,” Jenkins said in an upbeat voice. Clearly faking it, but doing his best to lift the morale of his people that were looking around as if we were about to enter the underworld. On the other hand, they were not that wrong; we were deep beneath the surface in a place that felt otherworldly.

“What we came for should be on top of that pyramid,” he continued and motioned for me to lead the way.

The SOB probably hoped that I would meet my maker if there were some traps at the end; if I died right now, he would not have to waste a bullet blowing my brains out. Nonetheless, I was confident that I could spot anything suspicious and avoid one of the multiple ways to die, which were vividly going through my mind.

There were these lumpy mounds of dust on the platform that didn't really make sense, not that anything did in this place.

One by one, we cautiously went across the bridge and stood on the platform; the entire floor of the cave beneath it was covered by black and murky water.

Up close, I could see that those mounds were no simple dust; human bones and skulls were mixed in… so many of them. Whatever happened here was long ago, but I swear I could still feel the death throes of these poor bastards.

Then it happened, just as all of us stepped onto the platform, a bright light, like a wave, shone from the top of the pyramid. For all my confidence and faith in my observational skills, I walked right into whatever trap killed those that came before us.

I couldn't move, every muscle in my body locked up.

From the corner of my eyes, I could see that the others were in the same predicament. Frozen, we stood like statues, and the only thing crossing my mind was that I would end up as nothing more than another pile of dust in this godforsaken place.

I should have split on that first night when I overheard what they were planning for me, but I didn't, and this was a consequence of a monumentally bad decision.

My head started to hurt, more and more each second, blood pounding in my ears. There was this feeling of violation, as if someone else was in my mind, looking for something; inquisitively tossing my memories around, without any care or concern.

This was so far out of my experience that I did not know what to think. I was never a believer in supernatural forces, yet the last few minutes were making me change that conviction.

My entire life played inside my mind like it was a fast-forwarding movie. From childhood, through all the years in the service, and the most vivid were memories of all my kills and the reasons behind them. Each highlight was played in real-time, analyzed, and sometimes repeated multiple times.

Suddenly, the feeling of this most private trespassing of my very soul stopped, and the last thing I felt was this strange sense of approval, right before I started to walk forward.

To be specific, my body was, since I was not the one in control.

It is an utterly terrifying experience when you are just a spectator in your own body; step by step it was climbing the pyramid. Soon, I could see what was on top of it. A rectangular clear crystal altar at least six feet long. It was perfect, without any blemishes or cracks; under the blue bioluminescent light, it looked evil to me.

The only thing that marred its surface was a knife, well, technically a double-edged dagger… embedded in it. Not like any dagger I had ever seen, utterly black, as though it was absorbing all light that shone on it. It reminded me a little of a Gothic medieval athame I once saw in an occult exhibit, but this design was… inhuman. A wicked-looking handle with an 8-1/2 inch blade that I instinctively knew could cut through flesh like it wasn’t there. My body stood before the altar and my hand grabbed the protruding hilt of the dagger.

How can I explain that singular moment of contact, when it had almost shattered my sanity? If I could, I would have screamed at the top of my lungs; the feeling of pain was all-consuming and never-ending. Every nerve in my body, every muscle, sent the pain signals to my brain. This feeling of overwhelming heat was starting to grow in my chest and soon spread all over… as if I was being burned alive.

The last thing I remembered was that feeling of fire, leaving my body. Then the ground beneath my feet started to shake, and I could see great chunks of the ceiling, falling all around the cave.

Then... nothing.

Only darkness and blessed unconsciousness.