Chapter 19
The stench drifting up from the river below was overwhelming. The men had successfully killed three monkeys for supper however no one had an appetite. Most of the German soldiers wrapped pieces of cloth or kerchief’s around their faces in a futile attempt at blocking the foul odor. The men were gaunt, dehydrated and feverish. Most had unhealed open wounds with infestations of worms or maggots, fungus or mold. The whole group resembled walking corpses.
In the officer’s tent, still weak from his bout of illness, Venoma spent his time pouring over Walter Ramsell’s Journal. Schmidt, constantly complaining, found relief in castigating the men in his charge and making their existence more miserable than his own. Wolfgang, tense and irritable, either, cleaned his weapons, badgered Schmidt, attempted to provoke Grissop or, eyed Sophie like a Hawk its prey. The Colonel was unstable and just looking for a reason to lock horns with Grissop, perhaps his lust for the woman would keep him occupied.
Grissop had become apathetic of them all. His only concern now was reaching El Dorado’s treasure. When Fritz had expressed concern for Sophie’s safety Grissop had discovered that he had had no feelings on the matter. She was of no consequence to him or the success of the expedition and so of no concern. Only her father mattered as he held knowledge of El Dorado that could prove vital.
The morning brought torrential rain and afterward, miserable heat. The German party made their way down a greasy twisting overgrown slope toward the rank dark river below. The closer they came the more the odor intensified. It was noon when the party reached the river’s edge. The water ran deep and black from some hidden source beyond the mountain, which rose sheer from its furthest bank.
“Which way now Grissop? Wolfgang snapped.
“you will need to ask the Marquise that question.” He replied. “I have brought you to the Rio das Mortes, from here it is up to him.”
“East.” Venoma had approached silently behind them. Turning they saw him gazing at the river and holding a dirty silk handkerchief to cover his nose and mouth.
The Germans continued the process of hewing a pathway through the dense foliage. After another two hours they found what appeared to be the source of the putrid odor they had been experiencing for the last few days.
Upon exiting the hellish, green, nightmare, they found themselves in a wide clearing paved with polished black stones. The jungle sent vines and tendrils snaking across this courtyard in an attempt to reclaim the vacant expanse. At the center of this arena was a large fire pit filled with ash. The whole area including the river beyond lay shrouded in shadow from the dense forest canopy above.
The courtyard, ringed with a short, stone wall, and numerous vertical wood posts, was broken only at two points. One was the entrance where the Germans now stood. The other was near the river’s edge on the opposite side of the black stone floor. A wide stone archway marked the portal and a polished black granite promenade hung out over the water’s surface just beyond.
As the Germans entered the courtyard one of their number cried out “Mein Gott!”
“Colonel!” Wolfgang and Grissop turned at the sound of the shrill voice to discover a quivering Corporal Fritz gazing up into the trees above. Following the Corporals wide eyed gaze the two men looked up.
“Holy Shit!” Grissop exclaimed.
Fragments of human bodies hung in every tree. Limbs, torsos and entrails dangled overhead like gruesome fruit. Mutilated corpses and body parts in varied states of decay filled the area directly above the courtyard as if they had been deposited there by some massive hellish explosion. Carrion birds picked at the remains of skulls, ribcages and appendages.
“What is this place?” Sophie asked Grissop as all the color drained from her face.
“Xingu holy place, if I had to guess.” Grissop replied.
Grissop crossed the courtyard, through the archway and cautiously stepped out on to the stone platform. He peered down into a wide, whirling, black vortex of rushing water. Here the Rio das Mortes, rushing in from the left, collided with a larger faster unknown river entering from the right converging to create a swirling vacuous eddy. Thick gray mist moved across the rushing water and swirled around the murky whirlpool giving it an ominous appearance.
As their eyes adjusted to the shadowy gloom, they began to make out countless bones and human skulls littering the water’s edge and disappearing into the river near the rotating aquatic abyss. Peering into the depth the river bottom opened into a wide, deep bowl stretching hundreds of feet below.
On the opposite bank, thirty feet away, another archway could only just be seen taking shape in the mist. Deep, mysterious, impermeable darkness lay beyond.
On either side of the archways, on both sides of the river, from the tops of the trees to the bottoms, long tendrils descended to the water, as if to drink and carry life to the lofty trunks that sent them spiraling down.
“The Maelstrom eats the dead at the threshold of perdition.” Venoma quoted from Walter Ramsell’s journal.
“This place is terrifying.” Sophie declared.
Between the tree’s full of decaying bodies, the odor of rotting flesh and the horrific vortex that blocked their way, Grissop had to agree with her.
Grissop exchanged a knowing look with Colonel Wolfgang as the two men came to an undeniable conclusion. The two men knew that to continue they must somehow cross this void.
“Indian’s!” Shouts of alarm, accompanied by horrifying wails of excruciating pain, burst forth from the ranks of soldiers behind them in the courtyard.
“Defensive positions!” Colonel Wolfgang bellowed out the alarm. “We are under attack!”
Fatigued, weak and sick, some German soldiers simply fled into the jungle seeking refuge while others threw themselves on the ground in a panic. Others took shelter near the short wall surrounding the courtyard.
Screams of agony erupted from the forest as chaos erupted. Soldiers, running and screaming, reappeared from the jungle, fleeing in terror from an unseen enemy. Most left bright crimson trails on the smooth, black, stone floor as blood gushed forth from gaping wounds and severed limbs.
Automatic gunfire exploded from every direction as the horrified Germans fired blindly into the trees and shadows. A hail of arrows and feathered darts rained down from the trees surrounding the courtyard in answer to their counter attack.
A small group of armed men led by the remaining SS guards broke away from the others, escorting Xavier Venoma, Sophie, and her father, moving them to where Grissop and the Colonel had taken cover under the stone arch near the river. Schmidt, screaming in terror, followed closely behind.
“Colonel,” Venoma shouted above the screams and gunfire, pointing toward the opposite side of the black river. “The arch has a mechanism that will release a bridge.”
Grissop and Wolfgang both turned to examine the arch where Quaid saw an irregularity in the eastern column.
“There!” He exclaimed.
Wolfgang ordered the nearest soldier into the water. The poor man made it only a few feet before he was caught in the whirlpools current. Screaming and coughing he was dragged down and disappeared into the swirling funnel. The Colonel ordered another soldier into the water but Grissop belayed the order.
“Give me a rifle!” Grissop shouted to no one in particular.
Taking careful aim he pulled the trigger. Just then a Xingu arrow pierced the throat of a Nazi soldier standing near him. The dying man fell against Grissop. Chunks of black stone and gray dust filled the air as the bullet struck high and wide. He took aim again. Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly he squeezed the trigger. The bullet struck the iron mechanism causing it to shift.
From the vortex below a long, wide shadow rose from the depths. Spinning slowly upward from the swirling depths a long black stone broke the surface of the colliding rivers. As the black granite stone emerged from the depths a resounding crack, louder than any gunshot and followed by a loud, deep grinding sound could b
e heard as the enormous black stone settled into place between the archways to form one long bridge spanning the whirlpool.
Grissop jumped the diminishing gap before the stone came to a stop, firing over his shoulder as he ran forward. Reaching the other side, he laid down covering fire to protect the remaining party. A group of frightened German soldiers ran passed Grissop attempting to put distance between themselves and the attacking Xingu.
“Stop!” he bellowed after them.
Some of the men stopped, but others disappeared into the darkness. Looking back across the bridge, he could see several bodies laying motionless, arrows or darts protruding from their backs or piercing their necks. Grissop threw the lever in the column and the bridge retracted with a deep, grinding, rumble. Screams of rage erupted from the jungle around the courtyard.
Tall, fierce, maniacal Indians hurled themselves blindly toward the sinking bride only to disappear with it into the black swirling water.
Colonel Wolfgang ordered a cease fire. The Xingu warriors paced back and forth on the opposite side firing arrows and darts at the escaping Germans.
Colonel Wolfgang ordered a count and an inventory of weapons equipment and supplies.
Horrific screams erupted from the shadowy court yard.
“Dear God what was that?” Professor De Wulf cried.
“They are torturing the wounded.” Xavier Venoma answered without emotion. Sophie buried her face in her father’s neck like a child seeking refuge from a nightmarish dream.
Grissop found that they had stumbled into what appeared to be a narrow lane paved with the same black stones found in the courtyard. Peering into the distance he could see familiar totems spaced evenly along the highways edge.
“Everyone stay exactly where you are.” He warned.
“What do we do?” Schmidt said nervously from behind.
“You go see if it’s safe to move on.” Grissop said sarcastically.
Walking forward into the darkness Grissop moved cautiously using his rifle like a blind man would use a cane hoping to trigger any traps that may lay before him. Ahead in the distance a loud crack and swoosh followed by a horrific scream caused Quaid to crouch in fear.
Moving forward again he eventually came upon a soldier writhing on the ground, moaning and spitting blood, his lower torso and legs still twitching but no longer attached to his upper body. Franticly the doomed man attempted to pull his intestines back into his abdomen. Two other Germans stood motionless, pale, and shivering in horror near the doomed man too afraid to take another step.
Grissop made his way passed them and moved slowly toward the center of the lane. He could clearly see that the paved road lead straight into the mountain. Venoma and the remainder of their party approached and stood near Grissop.
“Well Marquis, I’ll wager this lane is randomly booby trapped and the jungle around it similarly so. Does Walter Ramsell have any more suggestions?”
“No, however I do. Major, order your men forward.” Venoma said coldly.
“And what happens when we run out of Soldiers?” Schmidt demanded, his voice full of dread and mistrust.
“Then we will send the officers.” Venoma said pleasantly.
Major Schmidt culled five men from the group, the only remaining privates, ordered them disarmed, and sent them forward single file at gunpoint. The first of them triggered a trap after only ten steps.
The next man in line moved forward on wobbly legs, only after being poked in the back with a bayonet affixed to a rifle barrel. Pallid, clammy and tremulous, the four young soldiers moved reluctantly passed the twitching body of their fallen comrade.
This macabre game of “Follow the Leader” continued until only one of the pawns remained alive. This final man was in such a hysterical panic that he begged Schmidt to simply shoot him. The young soldier was spared however, for suddenly, in front of the group, a wide cave mouth appeared through the ephemeral mist.
The entrance was forty feet high and thirty wide. At each side, a monolithic obelisk of black granite stood guarding the passage. Each stone was polished and as clean as the day it was set in place. Raised angular hieroglyphs of gold relief marked their surface. Beyond these, two colossal stone doors, festooned with similar gold inlaid hieroglyphs, stood forbidding the intruders to enter.
The remaining twenty or so souls of the German party stood mesmerized before the magnificent gateway, each individuals mind oscillating between astonishment, bewilderment, curiosity, reverence, and suspicion.
“My God!” Exclaimed professor DeWulf.
“Welcome to El Dorado!” Wonderment resonated in Grissop’s voice.