The Day of the Dead Read Online Free Page B

that he was one of
those hunting them.
    ‘ What?’
    ‘ Alejandro forced me to
help with the hunts,’ Tomas said bluntly, ‘because he knew how much
I hated it.’ Telling her was unnecessary, but it was probably his
last chance for confession. He didn’t remember the last time he’d
talked with a priest, not even the last time he’d wanted to, and
she couldn’t absolve him anyway. But then, considering some of the
things he’d done, he doubted that anyone could. ‘I’ve killed
hundreds just like Jason,’ he added, trying to keep his voice
neutral. ‘And the only mercy I could show them was to make it
quick. For once, I’d like to help someone survive. And to have
Alejandro be the one wallowing in his own blood.’
    ‘ That’s a plan I can get
behind,’ she said, fingering her automatic.
    Tomas shook his head and didn’t
comment. Once she saw what was waiting for them, her bravado would
fade. Just like everyone else’s always did. The two men didn’t say
anything. But when he and Sara stepped into the undergrowth, they
followed.
    The next hour was taken up with
slipping through a jungle through which no paths had ever been
carved, followed closely by a damp cloud of mosquitoes. Sara
managed it better than Tomas had expected; it wasn’t easy going
even for him. Alejandro had left the jungle intact for exactly that
reason: it formed an added layer of protection. It also added to
the fun of his hunts, watching mere mortals flounder around in the
endless green sea until he chose to put them out of their
misery.
    They finally reached an old temple on
the edge of Alejandro’s lands. The place was beautiful, silvered
with moonbeams, the stones seeming to glow with a delicate light
just bright enough to pick out shapes. Weeds and vines had half
obscured the entrance and small trees were growing out of the
tumbled stones over the lintel.
    A crop of wild orchids had moved in,
settling among the ruins like nesting birds, their white and orange
petals spotted with brown like freckles. Tomas reached out to touch
one and found it softly furred beneath the pad of his finger – like
skin. A sudden shiver flashed up and down his spine, before
twisting like a snake in his gut. For a moment, it felt like the
last century had never happened, like he was returning from a
mission for his master with blood on his hands, and all the rest
was merely a dream.
    ‘ This it?’ Sarah asked
briskly, breaking the mood.
    ‘ Yes,’ he said, and for
some reason it hurt to talk, like he was scraping the words out of
his throat.
    They ducked under deeply sculpted
reliefs and entered the main hallway, leading to a chamber with a
stone altar. Like his own ancestors, and unlike the Aztec, the Maya
had rarely practiced human sacrifice. It was far more common for
their priests and kings to use their own blood as the sacrifices
their gods required, letting it flow when crises occurred or when
the auguries deemed it necessary. Tomas had always been proud that
he came from a people who understood the real nature of sacrifice –
and it wasn’t having someone else bleed for you.
    The altar sat in front of a
raised dais, behind which was a small room where he supposed the
priests might have once readied themselves for ceremonies. It was
empty now, except for a set of rock-cut stairs leading down into
darkness. Below were a series of chultuns , old underground storage
chambers for water and food, and beneath them the reason Alejandro
had chosen this site in the first place: naturally occurring
limestone caverns that even Tomas had never explored in full. It
was like an underground city, part of which the Mayans had used as
a refuse dump, part of which had some type of mystical
significance, with carvings on the walls showing ancient ceremonies
and still partially covered in molding paint.
    ‘ This is one of the lesser
used entrances,’ he told them, as Sarah drew out a flashlight. ‘But
we shouldn’t risk the light. Alejandro’s men don’t