Pyramid of the Dead: A Zombie Novel by John McCuaig

Author:John McCuaig [McCuaig, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Publisher: Severed Press
Published: 2012-10-22T04:30:00+00:00

13- The return to Tarapoto

Minco was stuck deep in his own little world. He looked down all four directions of the now quiet crossroads in turn. Behind him, the undead army were on their way and everyone in the party knew that they would soon be here. Forward, to the north, would take them nearly all the way to the City of Huacas, but his eyes, and his heart, kept being drawn to the left hand path. That was the road to Tarapoto, to where his younger brother, Ayar, had been stationed. He had heard from a couple of the runners that the town had been completely overrun, and all of its citizens were devoured by the undead. Even so, he needed to know what his brother’s fate had been. Deep down, he knew what the likely answer would be, but he still had to be sure.

“Pizarro,” he called out as he turned back to the main body of men. He waved his arm at the Spaniard. “Come over here. We need to talk.”

The Spaniard marched over to him, cursing continually under his breath. He was still trying to wipe the remains of the undead soldier’s blood from his small blade. His hands were still shaking from his earlier, deadly surprise.

“I’m going to have to leave you for a while,” Minco said, not looking at Pizarro. His eyes were on the road to Tarapoto. “There is something I must do first. My men will keep you on the road to Huacas. I will return to you before nightfall.”

“You’re not going bloody anywhere,” Pizarro spat back, he was not in the mood for any more of the Incan’s tricks. “We’ve got to stay together and finish this damned nightmare. Minco, do I have to remind you where your King is and your pledge to protect him.”

The Incan just shook his head. “No. But what I must do I must do alone. Do not be concerned for my King or me. As I said, I’ll catch up with you soon enough.” He strode off down the road toward Tarapoto.

“Get back here now!” Pizarro shouted after him. “Minco! I’m warning you, get the hell back here!”

Minco did not turn around until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Swinging around with his axe at the ready to strike, he cursed himself upon seeing who it was; he should have instantly recognised that tender touch. It was the hand of Inguill, his lover.

“What in the name of the Gods do you think you’re doing,” he snapped at her, angry with himself for being so close to striking her down. “Go back with the others, please, it’ll be much safer.”

She offered him one of her enchanting smiles. “My place is not with them, my love, it has always been, and always will be at your side.” Her own tone then quickly turned to one of anger. “I know exactly where you’re going; you need to search Tarapoto for the fate of your brother. I will go there with you and before you start, do not even think about arguing with me, my Minco.

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