Sepulchre Read online

“Then again, perhaps we should not,” Leaf said cautiously.

  “Rest assured my friend it’s nothing to fear. Just an old Aztec sarcophagus I think the boss wants to donate it to a museum or some shit,” the Driver said.

  Leaf and Fetus looked at the driver with puzzled expressions. Neither knew what a sarcophagus was.

  “Should be done in a few hours, then it’s back,” the driver said.

  “Not an easy run?” Leaf asked

  “Had a bit of a scrape at the pickup but passenger and cargo are intact,” the Driver said.

  The phone rang. Because the depot was usually noisy with diesel engines the phone was wired to a PA system loud enough to be heard throughout the structure. It startled Fetus.

  The phone got through half of its second ring when Alonzo picked up. They could hear him shouting and above them they could hear the sound of boots running along the catwalk.

  One of the two remaining loaders came running into the sleeping area and immediately made for his bed. He dropped down onto the mattress, pulled his boots off, and started pulling on his pants. Alonzo came running in behind him with a duffle bag in one hand and a Mac-10 submachine gun dangling from his shoulder by its strap.

  “Boss Soberano was attacked. He’s alive, but told us to get ready because…well, just get ready,” Alonzo said as he tossed the duffle onto Leaf’s bed. The bag wasn’t zipped and Fetus could see several handguns, extra clips of ammo, and even a few grenades.

  Fetus looked at Leaf. Leaf looked at the bag, then up at the catwalk. The guards had taken up positions at the opposite ends of the warehouse. The topmost part of the warehouse was ringed with windows and the catwalk ran along all four walls. Those were the only windows in the elongated structure and the guards were watching the streets intently.

  “We don’t have enough guards to keep watch,” Said Leaf.

  “Yeah! I fucking know that!” shouted Alonzo.

  One of the loaders was now fully dressed and making for the nearest exit.

  “Where the fuck are you going?” shouted Alonzo.

  “I have a family, my children…I cannot die here,” the loader said without turning around.

  “If you go out that door you can’t come back,” said Alonzo.

  The loader didn’t bother to respond. When he reached the door he stopped to make sure his shirt was tucked in and pulled his cap down low over his eyes. He opened the door and the noise was deafening. The rate of fire from the surrounding force was so rapid that it sounded to Fetus like one protracted explosion. Fetus saw the back of the loaders shirt blossom, and explode from a dozen exit wounds.

  The loader stumbled backwards screaming until one of the exit wounds appeared at the back of his skull removing his cap. The man finally collapsed but the gunfire didn’t stop. His body writhed and convulsed as if being jolted with electricity while bullets continued to hit home. The door continued its arc until it hit the wall and began to rebound. As the door began to swing closed the gunfire increased but this time it was aimed at the door itself and its hinges. Moments later the door, bullet riddled, smoking, and hissing, was lying on top of the dead loader. Fetus heard the squeal of tires and watched as Alonzo backed up one of the smaller trucks so that the cargo area of the vehicle blocked the doorway. The gunfire stopped. No one was willing to risk destroying even an ounce of the freshly bailed marijuana.

  Leaf looked at Fetus, who was standing rooted to the spot with his mouth open.

  “Can I come out?” asked a voice from another part of the warehouse.

  Alonzo, the guards, the remaining loader, and Leaf all turned to look for the source of the voice. Those that were armed aimed their weapons.

  EggHead stepped from behind a barrel marked ‘Petrol’ with his hands up.

  The guards returned to their posts and Alonzo let his sub-machine gun swing on its strap while he mopped his brow with a filthy rag he kept in his back pocket.

  The driver, having emerged from behind a stack of tires, retrieved his cell phone from his pocket.

  “No bars. They have a jammer. You may want to check the land-line?” the driver asked Alonzo. “You get back to work,” the driver said pointing at EggHead.

  Alonzo looked perturbed but went toward the office and tried the phone. They heard him slam it down on the desk and they all knew that they were cut off from help. Alonzo returned to tell them what they already knew.

  “The line’s been cut,” Alonzo said.

  It was two in the morning and the streets outside were silent. There should have been people about, making noise and singing songs. There should have been the sounds of empty bottles breaking on concrete, trumpets, overtures being made and oft as not refused, but it was silent. Fetus thought back to the farm. Even during the quietest part of the night the cicadas could be heard, the owls hooted, and the bats made their odd staccato chirps as they hunted. This quiet terrified him.

  The truck blocking the door now sat at an odd angle with one of its rear tires partially resting on the newly perforated door that lay on top of the loader. The bullet-riddled door’s weight was forcing the loaders wounds open even further as the vehicle yielded to gravity.

  Everyone but EggHead sat and waited on their beds in the sleeping area. No one could sleep and no one bothered to speak. The half-full bottle of vodka sat unmolested as everyone wanted to keep their wits about them.

  “Yes!” came a shout from the main loading area.

  The driver, followed by Alonzo, Leaf and Fetus, got up and went to see what the EggHead passenger was shouting about.

  He was standing over a makeshift table made out of a sheet of plywood supported by two Petrol barrels. He was grinning like an idiot and holding up a tattered piece of paper so that the big over-head lights shown through it.

  “What the fuck are you yelling about?” shouted Alonzo.

  “I found what Mr. Soberano is looking for! Do you know what this means?!” EggHead asked almost hysterically.

  “No.” Alonzo said growing slightly impatient.

  “It’s…” Egghead stopped mid-sentence and looked around. He was fully registering the situation for the first time. He scanned the room. He paused when he came to the off kilter truck and the partially flattened body of the dead loader. He looked up to see both of the guards’ implacable expressions. He turned to see Fetus swaying slightly on his feet, the driver and Leaf on either side of him, both armed.

  “We’re not getting out of here are we?” EggHead asked.

  SEIGE

  Over the next thirty minutes everyone settled into a pattern. Alonzo mopped his brow every four or five minutes. The driver and Leaf checked ammo and cleaned guns. The guards walked around the catwalks, always keeping to opposite sides of the building. The remaining loader just sat and sobbed on occasion.

  EggHead, however, never lost focus. He was furiously scribbling in his notebook and talking into his small hand held recorder. Between those two activities he made frequent trips to the back of the semi and climbed inside. Then he would emerge from the back of the truck at a run to repeat the pattern. He worked as if the Devil himself was wielding the whip and Fetus was fixated on the flurry of manic movements. Fetus could tell this man had been places and knew things. He had probably learned it all from college, Fetus thought. Fetus approached the man known to him only as EggHead.

  “What are you doing?” Fetus finally got the nerve to ask.

  “Research.” said EggHead without looking up from the make-shift table.

  “What is research?” Fetus asked.

  “What?” EggHead looked up a little frustrated and a little confused.

  “What is research?” Fetus was accustomed to people being annoyed by his questions and didn’t flinch.

  “It’s how we learn things. We ask questions and look for answers.” EggHead said.

  “So research means finding answers,” said Fetus.

  “Research means looking for answers,” EggHead corrected with a gentler tone.

  “C
an I research with you?” Fetus asked.

  EggHead smiled now. “You can be my research assistant and help me look for some answers.”

  Fetus beamed. No one had ever given him an opportunity to look for answers. “What are the questions?” Fetus asked.

  “Excellent. Come with me.” EggHead said as he began walking toward the rear of the truck.

  Fetus started to follow, then stopped and turned to look at Leaf and Alonzo who had been watching the exchange.

  EggHead realized that he was walking alone and turned to look at Fetus, then at Leaf. EggHead made an open hands gesture, as if asking for a decision, toward the two men. Alonzo looked at Leaf who was giving EggHead a measuring and hostile glare. As EggHead made eye contact with him, Leaf cocked one eyebrow and without lifting his head shot his eyes upward. EggHead looked up and saw the guard’s silhouettes, silent and lethal. EggHead understood that he was taking temporary responsibility for Fetus and the penalty for failing in that duty would be dire. EggHead nodded and proceeded toward the back of the truck. Leaf nodded at Fetus and went back to talking in hushed tones to Alonzo and the driver.

  The guards both made their way along the catwalk so that they could see what was happening in the rear of the semi. It was more out curiosity than for security reasons. The sliding noises of cargo being moved emanated from the back of the vehicle at intervals, but none of the men outside the trailer paid much mind to it.

  “Loader!” shouted EggHead. “Can you assist me, please?”

  The loader stood up from his seat on a bucket of industrial engine lubricant without much thought and ambled toward the rear of the semi’s trailer. A pneumatic lift platform that made up part of the tailgate lowered EggHead, Fetus and what appeared to be a giant black egg down to the level of the warehouse floor. The giant egg was almost five feet tall, tapered at the top and had a polished look. Its bottom was flat and encrusted in dirt.

  “Do you have a dolly?” EggHead asked, beaming.

  The loader left and returned with the hand-truck. EggHead and Fetus strained and tilted the oval shaped object backwards enough for the loader to slip the dolly footplate under it.

  EggHead and Fetus walked proudly past the front of the semi and entered the ad hoc work area midway the length of the warehouse. Papers, books and other assorted items had accumulated there since the semi had arrived. They were followed, under protest, by the loader who was tasked with seeing the unwieldy object safely to the work space.

  The driver, Leaf, and Alonzo looked up as the little procession approached. Alonzo sneered, the driver grinned and Leaf just looked puzzled.

  EggHead pointed toward a random spot between his work area and the three huddled men and the loader unceremoniously stopped and let the cargo down a bit less than gently. EggHead glared at him but the driver had long since lost any interest in the unspoken caste system of the depot.

  “Gentlemen, I give you…” EggHead stopped mid-sentence as the lights went out.

  No one inside the warehouse moved or spoke for a moment. They all simply listened. The first thing they heard was the sound of engines; big Hummer engines intermingled with various other types of trucks. Then they could hear the boots. It sounded like dozens of men maybe even a hundred. The sound was too distorted to make an estimate. They heard the occasional crackle of walkie-talkies as orders were given and other voices confirmed they were being followed.

  Then the lights exploded in blinding strength as the backup generators started. Everyone in the warehouse exhaled at the same time. The remaining loader ran towards Alonzo eyes wide with terror.

  “You have to do something! Get me out of here,” the loader implored as he ran forward with his hands extended. He wasn’t intending to do any harm from Fetus’ perspective but the loader was desperate. As the loader reached Alonzo, he grabbed the front of Alonzo’s shirt. Alonzo delivered a backhand to the loaders face that made him stagger backwards toward the cargo. He fell over the oval rock as EggHead shouted and tried to intercept him, but it was too late. The loader and the black rock fell and rolled a few feet in different directions.

  An almost perfect crack opened up and the rock split in half horizontally. A skeletal frame protruded from the bottom half of the rock. Shrunken and wrapped in swaddling cloth, what was once a man, lay on his side in the fetal position with only his upper torso and knees visible.

  “You fucking morons!” shouted EggHead as he ran over to right the corpse and the bottom half of the oddly designed casket.

  Fetus darted toward the oddity and tried to help.

  “Kid, don’t touch the body, just grab the container okay?” EggHead said in a much gentler tone.

  “Okay,” said Fetus.

  The two managed to right the now much lighter object. It was clearly the skeleton of a man. Fetus studied the body with interest. Although it was clearly very old, the flesh looked as if it had been cured like the meat in the smokehouse at the farm. Here and there Fetus could also see small amounts of moisture. The corpse was sitting upright now with its knees pulled close to its chest and arms wrapped around its legs. None of them were stunned by the site of the body. In their world corpses were common.

  What made them all recoil gagging was the smell. Fetus had been around rotting corpses, landfills, the local fish market and a dozen other worse smelling places but this was beyond his experience. Alonzo pulled the filthy rag from his pocket and held it under his nose. The driver got up and walked away followed by Leaf. Both men held their breath as long as they could. The loader vomited on the spot. Fetus and EggHead stood still, transfixed by the site.

  The topmost part of the skull was bare. It shone as if polished by time. A few strands of wiry hair extruded here and there around the brow. The face was mostly wrapped in the same material as the rest of the body. The parts of the face that were exposed had the same cured look as the other occasional visible patches of skin on the body. The mouth was partially open and a few teeth remained in place. One eye was covered and the other appeared fused shut. The skull appeared to be grimacing although there was little to no flesh where the lips should have been. The body sat there in its oversized bowl and stared into nothingness.

  “This is him,” said EggHead.

  “Who?” Fetus asked.

  “This is Doctor Miguel LLull de Santiago. He was a physician assigned to maintaining a permanent medical and surgical hospital for the conquistadors” EggHead said proudly.

  “Spaniards,” Alonzo said as he spit. “Fuck those white Mexicans,” he concluded with a chuckle.

  The driver and Leaf both laughed. The loader gathered what remaining wits he had and slouched away to sit on the far side of the warehouse.

  “Is this the way they buried their dead?” asked Fetus.

  “Actually Miguel was punished for doing research into things he shouldn’t have. So he got put under differently than most,” EggHead explained.

  “What was he punished for?” Fetus asked.

  “He was…” the driver stopped EggHead.

  “Those generators only have so much fuel. Then it will be lights out again. Less lip more sciency shit amigo,” the driver said as he took up the half empty vodka bottle and took a swig.

  EggHead instantly looked nervous again and bent over his specimen and began taking notes. Fetus speculated on what that exchange meant as to the relationship between the driver and EggHead. Maybe the driver was more than he seemed.

  The depot had three doors along both the east and west walls plus the two big hangar doors at the north and south ends. The driver, Leaf and Alonzo began barricading each door with one of the many trucks at hand. This process took several minutes and still left at least eleven trucks in their original spots along the wall.

  After the trucks were in place, the three men began siphoning the gasoline out of the tanks of the trucks not blocking the doors and into portable containers. Unfortunately, they only had so many containers and once those containers were full they moved them all into the gener
ator room. They had just bought some time. The three men retired to the sleeping area to strategize further.

  Fetus took this opportunity to get his questions answered.

  “What did he do?” he asked EggHead without preamble.

  “He was called an alchemist,” said EggHead without looking up from his books and the parchment.

  “What’s an alchemist?” Fetus asked.

  “An alchemist is just another word for scientist or researcher. However alchemists at the time were tasked with learning how specific things worked, how to make things better, and of course, discovering things,” EggHead said as he made more notes.

  “What is discovering?” asked Fetus. Most of the explanation EggHead had given him was beyond his grasp, but he knew from reading that the last thing mentioned was probably the most important.

  “Discovery is when you find something new or at least something that’s new to you,” said EggHead.

  Fetus and EggHead heard a soft, brief, hiss from behind them. Both of them turned very slowly and looked toward the mummified body in its bowl.

  Rattlesnakes were prone to seek warm places this time of year and this was no time to get bitten. Neither saw anything but the desiccated body in its bowl. The two walked around checking the various nooks and crannies among the tool boxes and barrels of petrol but found nothing so they went back to work.

  “What was he trying to discover?” Fetus asked.

  “In 1554 the first Spanish settlement was established here and they brought disease with them. Because of them, the Aztecs suffered from typhus, influenza, smallpox, diphtheria, measles, and lots of other nasty shit. They died by the hundreds of thousands,” EggHead explained. “The King of Spain wanted to know why the locals were dying so he sent doctor Miguel here to find out,” he said.

  “Did he…” asked Fetus, “…find out why the people were getting sick?”

  “No, he gave up on that. He concluded early on that the local people were dying from diseases the conquistadors brought with them. However, he couldn’t very well go back to the King of Spain and tell him his own soldiers were accidentally killing people he wanted to conquer,” EggHead said.