The Day of the Dead Read Online Free PDF

It wasn’t a great attempt. ‘God, it’s hot.’ She
ripped off her jacket, tying it in a knot around her waist, and
gathered her hair into a riotous ponytail to get it off her
neck.
    Tomas hadn’t noticed much of a
fluctuation in temperature. Usually, the caves were cooler than
aboveground, not the reverse, although this time of year the
transition was less noticeable. But patches of sweat had already
soaked through her shirt and glistened on her skin, and her hand
left a wet print on the wall where it had rested.
    ‘ This way,’ he said,
leading them into one of the outermost rooms branching off the main
hallway before stopping dead.
    ‘ What is it?’ Sarah had
noticed him tense, instantly aware of a change in the
atmosphere.
    ‘ Something’s wrong,’ he
said softly.
    ‘ Like what?’ The three
mercenaries had drawn up in a defensive wedge and were scanning the
room, their weapons in hand. The two mages seemed to see fine in
the dark, courtesy of a spell, Tomas assumed. But there was
nothing to see
except a few rat bones and a scrap of ancient material.
    ‘ There are supposed to be
mummified bodies here.’
    ‘ Great,’ Sarah muttered.
‘For the extra creepy this place was missing.’
    ‘ This was where Alejandro
kept the remains of ancient Incan kings,’ he explained. Alejandro
had acquired them as trophies shortly after following Pizarro to
the New World, and had brought them along when he finally decided
on a permanent residence. Once they were settled in, however,
they’d largely been forgotten, left to mildew in dank, underground
cells.
    Tomas had been one of the few to ever
visit them. They had been venerated by his people even after death,
remaining in their palaces, supported by their lands, just as they
had when alive. Each new Incan monarch had to wage his own wars of
conquest to fund his rule, because what had been his ancestor’s
remained theirs and beyond his control. Legions of servants had
daily draped their withered corpses in the finest of garments and
prepared lavish meals for them. On important occasions, they had
been brought out to sit again in court, giving council to the
living and presiding over the festivities.
    There had always been something
uncanny about them – brown, almost translucent skin stretched over
old bones, empty eyes and hollow mouths, with shadows inside like
parodies of human organs. Tomas had come this way knowing it was
usually avoided by the court. That still seemed to be the case, but
for some reason it worried him that the kings weren’t there. It
made something cold go running along his spine.
    ‘ I’m more concerned about
the living,’ Sarah said, eyes on his face. ‘Are we
close?’
    Tomas swallowed. He was imagining
things. The kings had just been moved, that was all; or perhaps
Alejandro had finally decided to rid himself of his macabre
trophies.
    ‘ Yes. The old cells are
down there.’ He pointed out a small hole in the wall, about two
feet square.
    ‘ Down there?’ Sarah peered
into the darkness, her hand tightening convulsively on her gun.
‘You’re kidding, right?’ she sounded hopeful.
    ‘ No. There is another way
in, but it involves going through much more populated areas. This
is safer.’
    ‘ Safer.’ She didn’t look
convinced. She peered inside the small, dank, black hole for
another moment, then muttered something that sounded fairly
obscene. ‘Stay here – keep watch,’ she ordered her men. Then she
stowed her gun in its holster and went in head first, on hands and
knees. Tomas followed close behind.
    The tunnel slanted sharply
downwards, leaving behind the mildewed plaster of the chultuns for true caverns.
Tomas could sense the room’s emptiness almost as soon as they
entered the small tunnel – there were no whimpers, no cries for
help, no rapidly racing heartbeats. But before he could tell Sarah,
she was already out the other side.
    He emerged in a dark cave half- filled
with ancient garbage, with deer bones and