Gods and Men- The Hank Boyd Omnibus, page 36
part #1 of Gods and Men Series
Frost looked down to his feet, again visualizing the safe the pot was in. He knew what he needed to do to survive this contract.
“Yes, ma’am I do,” he replied, swallowing hard.
“Good.”
He again looked to his overnight bag and wondered if it wasn’t too late, but his mysterious employer cut off the thought.
“Where are they now?” She asked, business as usual.
Frost sat back down at his computer and pulled up the screen that showed Ronin’s locator. He refreshed the feed and relayed Boyd’s location.
“They are headed due west from Isla de Jaina directly across the southern part of the gulf. But I’m not sure where they are headed. It could be anywhere and—”
“I know where they are going,” Coaxoch interrupted.
Frost just stared at the red locator dot, confused as to how she could know such a thing. He was about to ask her as much, but she answered for him.
“If they found what I think they did,” Coaxoch explained, again laughing softly. “They will head for Teotihuacan.”
“Teotihuacan?” Frost asked, not understanding what was so funny.
She again laughed softly into his ear, like she was enjoying her own joke.
“Yes, Mr. Frost,” she said smoothly. “They are headed home.”
Teotihuacan, Mexico
The Avenue of the Dead is exactly what its name implies right now, dead. It’s entirely void of life, that is, except for the four war-machines walking down its central road right this second. Us.
We pass through the long, walled entrance way, each side bordered by twelve-foot high-stepped platforms. There must have been shops or something at the top of each staircase, I think, but look down at my new armaments. The sight of them gives me a nervous smile, recalling how we got these new toys, and forgetting all about the stone walls.
But before we did in fact leave, we needed to break the news to Olivia that she wouldn’t be coming along. Let’s just say, it didn’t exactly go as planned either. She was absolutely adamant about seeing this through to the end.
“Please, Hank,” she begged. “I’m the only survivor of this expedition, and I owe it to the families of the people who died here to finish this thing.”
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” I countered. “The end of this could be the deaths of millions more. Are you sure you want to have a front row seat to that if it happens?”
A single tear streaked down her cheek, but she looked up to me. “I’m in…to the end.”
So, with Kane’s approval, Olivia has joined us until we see this thing through.
After I finished projectile vomiting all over the tent door, we came to the conclusion that we needed to make a pit stop in Teotihuacan, just to check things out. Kane called ahead stating that we had a possible international emergency and that the Aztecan ruins were the target.
The most significant difference in this claim versus the last one we made about Chichen Itza is that the attack in the Yucatan was all over the news and public knowledge. So requesting the site being cleared wasn’t going to be a problem. Asking that no one enters besides us, on the other hand, was met with some resistance from the Mexican authorities.
Kane simply told them that the last time civilians were present two of them had died. He then threatened to cancel the inspection and leave them to fend for themselves.
Boy did that get them moving.
Another difference in our trip to these ruins compared to the other is that we are armed to the teeth, ready for war. Per Kane, a mysterious shipment was left for us in front of our privately funded jet.
Inside the coffin-sized container were all sorts of new toys—and by toys I, of course, mean weapons, lots, and lots of weapons.
Being the expert on all things that go BOOM, Kane picked out what he thought each of us could handle and explained what they were and how to use them.
“Hank,” he said, handing me a monster of a weapon. “This is an Atchisson Assault Shotgun, or AA-12, for short. Its drum fed and can fire up to five 12-gauge shotgun shells per second.”
“But,” he continues, not letting me comment. “We aren’t using your standard twelve-ball shell either.”
I lift an eyebrow. “What are we using then?”
“What we have here,” he says smiling. “Is your standard issue steel slug. Perfect for maximum penetration.”
Wide-eyed—and I must admit a little excited—I heft the weapon, surprised to find it lighter than it looks. It looks like a mix of your standard, run-of-the-mill assault rifle, except it has the size and girth of a shotgun. I suppose the twenty-round Tommy gun-style drum magazine attached to the weapon gives it a little flare. Adding to its badassery is its flat-black paint job.
Kane handed me a satchel with six more drums in it and smiled. “Play nice.” Honestly, I can’t help but smile back thinking, Where have you been!
He then retreated back to his weapons cache, removing a futuristic-looking rifle of some kind. He handed it to Nicole, her face stoic behind a pair of reflective aviator sunglasses.
“You get a KRISS Vector CRB with forward handgrip and folding stock. Its fire selector is ambidextrous which makes it nice for lefties like yourself.” He turned but stopped. “Oh, I also have a dozen spare twenty-five-round extended magazines for you too.” He then placed a duffle bag next to Nicole’s feet. She took the weapon and inspected it while Kane continued his explanation. “KRISS designs their weapons to force recoil downward instead of backward towards the handler. With that innovation comes almost no recoil and the barrel will not climb as you shoot. Handy feature.”
“Point and click. Got it,” she said with a grin.
Kane nodded his approval. “I can see why he likes you.” He then gave her one last look and turned to Olivia.
“Unlike her, you are a hard one to read,” he admitted, walking back to the container. “First, you want to take your shirt off, then you don’t—” Olivia tried to argue the point, but was stopped as Kane went on. “But you seem to be able to take care of yourself pretty well. Have you ever handled a weapon before?”
Shaking off the prior comment, Olivia replied, “I took some self-defense classes in college and used to go to the range a couple times a month with some friends back home.”
That made Kane smile a little.
I can see why YOU like this one, big guy, I thought to myself, inwardly laughing a little.
He then offered a smaller, sleeker weapon to Olivia. She took the pistol-sized gun, an uncomfortable look forming on her face.
“Olivia,” he said, getting her full attention. “This is a Swiss-made, Brugger and Thomet MP9.” He regarded her in a calm, smooth voice, noticing her nervousness at handling the machine pistol. “It’s lighter and more compact compared to the weapons I gave Hank and Nicole but is perfect for someone with a basic knowledge of firearms. The forward grip will help you control direction. You’ll be fine.”
Then, Kane reached out and placed one of his big, meaty hands on her shoulder, easing some of her tension.
“Hey.”
She looked back up to him, forgetting about the weapon.
“You’ll be fine, I promise.”
The sincerity in his voice must have done something to Olivia’s nerves because once he placed his hand on her shoulder, you could instantly see her relax. Her posture even straightened some.
Snapping back into the now, I look over to the geneticist as we continue along the avenue. She has the same resolve I saw in the tomb when she accepted Weaver’s death and forced herself to move on. She’s been nothing short of impressive during this time of mayhem.
We enter the Plaza of the Moon, guns up, ready for anything and stop. At its rear, directly in front of the Great Goddess’ pyramid, stands a cloaked figure.
We cautiously approach, well aware of the order to vacate the park. Whoever this is shouldn’t be here.
As we continue forward, making no attempt at masking our approach, our uninvited guest doesn’t react. The person doesn’t even flinch. This…whoever it is…either doesn’t hear us coming or just plainly doesn’t care that we are here.
Then as we reach the halfway point the person turns, throwing off their robes, revealing themselves to us for the first time.
And boy is it weird.
First off, it’s a she. This woman and I use that term loosely, is covered from neck to foot in tattoos, and oh, by the way, she’s completely naked. The longer I stare—at the ink, not her body—the more the design comes into definition. She’s colorfully adorned herself in a kaleidoscope of some sort of pigmented reptile scales. The design runs up the back of her neck, following her spine. It then wraps itself up and over her ears, continuing around her temples, finally meeting across her forehead.
Her hair is a tangle of dark brown with blonde highlights and what looks like some sort of crown built of serpent tails. The crown is made of a jet-black stone of some kind. Kinda looks like obsidian, I think, recalling the frozen bonfire that made up Nannot’s prison in the lower cave of the Atlantean necropolis.
But her eyes are what catch me off guard the most, and by the looks on my friend’s faces, they see it too.
The snake woman's eyes are swirling with gold, like mine. An identical match.
“Why hello there. My name is Coaxoch, Queen of Teotihuacan…” She says, narrowing her gaze at me. She burrows those churning eyes into my soul and smiles, revealing a row of fangs. “…and once upon a time, wife…to Nannot.”
26
Teotihuacan, Mexico
“Her name, it means flower serpent,” Todd says over our earpieces, seeing and hearing as we do, “and apparently, she’s taken that literally.”
“No shit,” Kane murmurs under his breath. “I can see that.”
But I don’t hear either of them, I’m frozen like a statue, unable to move. Wife to Nannot? He had a wife?
I don’t know what to say except, “How?”
She looks back to me and smiles almost lustfully, obviously enjoying herself.
“How what?” She asks, taking a step towards us. “How am I still alive? How was a Priest of An’tala married and no one knew about it?”
I just nod, not being able to articulate a question.
“Well then,” she starts, taking two more strides towards us, towards the plaza’s altar.
“Me being alive is simple,” she says. “My husband granted me immortality the night before he was betrayed, along with a few other…gifts.” She says the last part with obvious amusement. “It was an ability even Thoth himself didn’t know he possessed.”
“Stop!” Nicole shouts, raising her KRISS carbine towards the snake-woman. Coaxoch abides, pausing her advance. “Move another step, and I’ll figure out a quick way to end you.”
The Aztecan queen just smiles broadly as if challenging Nicole to a fight. Hopefully, for Nicole’s sake, it doesn’t come to that. I know how hard it is to kill someone like her, recalling the brutal fight between this woman's supposed spouse and me.
Speaking of that…
“If you were Nannot’s wife… What’s with the getup?” Kane asks, finally speaking up. He was staring dumbfounded at the woman too. It’s hard to get past the body alterations, but her face is spotless and beautiful.
Coaxoch looks down at her body, confused by the inquiry, but then understands.
“When I fled An’tala, at my husband’s request, I arrived here in Central America. I was originally part of the first Mayan settlers, but as time went on and regimes changed, so did my allegiances.”
She takes a quick step forward and stops, getting all four of our weapons pointed in her direction. All she does is smile again, showing off what I now see as a forked tongue.
Coaxoch continues, “I did what I could to stay in power and in control, marrying myself off multiple times. Men are so easily tamed with promises of the flesh. I also bore numerous children in the process, ensuring my bloodline will continue, and with it, my goal.”
Goal? What goal?
I’m about to ask her about that, but don’t get the chance. She continues on, “When I landed on the northern shore of the Yucatan region, I set about to claim my right as ruler and ordered my husband’s earthly remains hidden away.”
This gets my full attention. “Your husband’s remains?” I ask.
“Yes,” she replies, a look of rage building on her face. “When that treacherous bastard, Thoth, destroyed his physical body, all that was left was ash.” My face goes white. “Which I collected and put in a jar.”
“Aw, damn.”
I glance over to Kane who’s just standing there rubbing his forehead. He gets it, I think. So do the women as I look in their direction too. At least we’re on the same page.
The queen takes a step forward and keeps on coming. She gives Nicole a wink and climbs the six steps it takes to get to the altar platform. Once at the middle she stops and looks to the ground.
“This is where it happened,” Coaxoch says, lost in remembrance. “The night my kingdom was devastated by my inept son.
“Your son?” Olivia asks, speaking for the first time. “Xiuhcoatl was your son?”
Looking to Olivia with admiration, the queen looks her up and down, “That’s some fine artwork you have there. Pity you won’t be alive much longer to enjoy it.”
Then like nothing happened, Coaxoch turns back to me. “Yes, Xiuhcoatl was one of my many children and unfortunately didn’t heed his father’s warning about what the tomb contained.”
“Through the grapevine, I installed a legend about a weapon so powerful that it could literally wipe out an entire kingdom…” As she finishes, a look of honest-to-God anguish flows over her face. There is a glint of pain, but then just like that, it’s gone, replaced by anger.
“Why remove it now after all these years?” I ask, honestly intrigued, but also trying to work out a plan for us to get out of here alive.
She smiles and answers, “The world has run its course. It’s time for my family to rise and rule…everywhere.”
She must see the confused look I’m currently sporting because she elaborates further. “Those who follow me are my descendants, some of which don’t even know they are. Our numbers are such that we shouldn’t have a problem repopulating the planet when all of you are gone.”
She flashes me a wicked smile and holds out her hands. Then she closes her eyes and starts mumbling under her breath. I recognize the language, but can’t remember where.
Then, like a wrecking ball of truth, it hits me. I’ve definitely heard this language before, but unfortunately, it was under the Sahara in Algeria.
“She’s speaking Atlantean,” I say with a lump in my throat, not understanding it, but explicitly recognizing it from various nightmares. The only reason she would be doing that is if she—
The ground beneath our feet rumbles, and all around us things start to happen.
First, the Avenue of the Dead disappears under a massive landslide of stone and earth. The pathway that was once lined with stairways and empty platforms is now just a large mound of dirt and rock. Our best bet at escape, gone.
Second, the ten or so step-pyramids surrounding the altar, each one of them four layers tall—about twenty-five feet tall maybe—shake and crack. As I watch the scene unfold, I can hear Coaxoch’s voice increase in volume and intensity, like she’s driving in more effort and energy into the mantra.
Then finally, each of the pyramid’s staircases break free, sliding down their respective sides, and crash to the plaza floor with an ear-shattering crunch. Through clenched eyes, I see something I wish I hadn’t. Each one of the staircases twitch and rumble…and move.
No, move isn’t the right word. It’s more like a slither…a snakes slither.
27
Teotihuacan, Mexico
We are quickly surrounded on all sides by the ever-growing army of stone serpents with the mother of them all chanting away atop the altar. Coaxoch’s eyes are closed, but her eyes dart back and forth rubbing against the underside of her eyelids. Her hands are outstretched, palms down, talon-tipped fingers hooked like she’s calling to the earth.
Which I guess she technically is, I think, looking around at our current predicament.
The four of us gather together and scurry around the altar towards the only whole staircase. It’s the one belonging to the Pyramid of the Moon—the one dedicated to the Great Goddess herself.
“We need to stop her!” Olivia shouts over the increasing rumble and groans of scraping stone bodies.
“And how exactly do we do that?” Nicole yells in response. “She’s immortal, remember?”
“If we shut her up, then maybe—”
“It’s not that easy!” Nicole retorts, interrupting Olivia.
“Quiet! Both of you! Let me think!” I roar, squelching the two women’s building argument.
“Kill the golems first, then worry about the she-snake.” I look to Nicole and Olivia, the four of us backing up as one. “Okay?”
Neither of them nods their agreement, but the fact that they don’t argue back tells me they do. The only thing I get from them is a tag-team of hate-filled eyes for berating them. They’ll get over it.
“Look,” I say almost apologetically. “We need to stay calm and stay focused. The four of us need to stick together.”
I glance at Kane, seeing him looking around at the terrain, no doubt putting together a battle plan. “Whatcha’ got, man?” I ask, aiming my AA-12 shotgun towards the closest serpent. It’s then I truly get my first good look at what we are dealing with.
They are the size of a stretch Hummer, maybe longer when fully formed. Each of them is identical in that as they slither towards us, their back halves—their unfinished halves—continue to develop as they advance. The snakes have a rock trail, rolling along behind them. Each time a loose bolder touches the rear of the serpents, it fuses to it, adding to its girth and length.
The only wholly finished part of the monster is the first half of its body and face, the latter of which is really odd. The mouth is frozen mid-sneer, and its foot-long teeth are bared, ready to devour us.
