Return To Primordial Island by Rick Poldark (read my book .txt) 📕

legs gave way, but Peter caught him, supporting him. He looked around the room. It was a larger room, a few hundred feet long and almost as many wide, with a massive statue of what could only be the Simian King on the far side of the room. The imposing figure loomed over a large stone sarcophagus, its chest puffed out, a spear in its right hand. It donned the bamboo armor seen on the corpse in the ancestral chamber, and on its head sat a crown. The statue stood on a raised platform. Statues of ape men warriors lined the sides of the burial chamber on very narrow cliffs.

Between the statue and where Peter and Jason stood was a large chasm. Several platforms jutted out of the void below about thirty to forty feet apart. Massive trees grew in between, with long branches and vines extending across, connecting the platforms above ground level.

“We have to hide,” said Peter. “They’ll pull the levers and be through in moments.”

Jason nodded. Regaining some of his strength, he stood on his own. “Where’s the lizard man?”

“He didn’t make it. We have to hide, now.”

They crossed the room to the edge of the platform on which they stood, looking down. “I can’t see the bottom,” said Jason.

Peter kicked a pebble off the edge, watching it fall. It vanished into darkness, and he didn’t hear it hit bottom. The stone wheel grinded open behind them.

“We have to swing across,” said Jason, eyeing the branches and vines, calculating a path to the massive statue of the Simian King.

“There’s no way I’m making that,” said Peter.

“You have to, mate.”

Peter looked at the sides of the cavern. “I can climb across to the other side. I’ll hold onto the statues for support.”

Jason inspected the narrow shelf the statues stood on. “That’s risky. If you fall, that’ll be all she wrote.”

“At least I stand a chance,” insisted Peter. “If I try to monkey bar my way across, I’ll definitely fall.”

Jason nodded. “I’ll draw their attention away from you and meet you there.”

Peter nodded, and they parted ways—Jason approaching the first gap to the next platform, and Peter dashing to the narrow ledge on the right.

As the stone wheel opened up, the mummies from the catacombs poured through, spilling out into the regal burial chamber. As Peter cautiously looked over his shoulder, he wondered where Tracey and Mary were in all of this. There didn’t appear to be any other doors to any other parts of the temple.

He took his first step onto the ledge, grabbing the ten-foot-tall statue of a Simian warrior around its waist. He carefully edged his left foot further left, and he slid his right foot onto the ledge. He swung himself around the statue, careful to cling to the sheer rock wall, pressing his cheek up against it as he shimmied out further.

*

Jason crouched, tensing his muscles in anticipation of a jump to the nearest tree branch, when he heard a commotion behind him. One part of his rational mind told him to jump and swing to the next platform. Another part told him that Simian mummies would likely be able to swing through the trees with ease, overtaking him within mere moments. Then, something tugged at the recesses of his mind, and that familiar wordless voice commanded him to turn around.

As the ape warrior mummies fanned out, Joey walked into the room. Two mummies followed, dragging Mary and Tracey. The women squirmed in their grips, but the mummies were too strong.

*

Peter saw Ghenga saunter into the room, followed by two mummies dragging Mary and Tracey. He understood now. It all made sense. When he had entered that sacred place in the Zehhaki city, where Ghenga had showed him the stored memories, he recalled being dragged out by the Zehhaki as if he didn’t belong there. More importantly, he recalled their reaction to Ghenga—it was hostile, fearful even. He also understood why Ghenga had wanted him to go to this Temple of the Simian King. It had nothing to do with any balance of nature. He wanted Peter here with the life orb at the place of Nazimaa’s captivity. He remembered Ghenga growing inpatient in the ancestral chamber and smashing the large hourglass with the black sand. Peter closed his eyes and reached out with his powers, and the familiar icy, dark presence confirmed it.

Ghenga was Nazimaa.

Chapter 15

Jason watched his little brother, Joey, enter the room with Mary and Tracey being dragged in behind him by Simian mummies. It didn’t make any sense. He knew his brother was dead, he knew Joey’s manifestation was a mind trick perpetrated by Nazimaa, yet he froze where he stood, feeling helpless.

‘Jason,’ said Joey in a wordless voice that was hollow, dry, and all too familiar. ‘I told you we’d be together again.’

Jason shook his head, as if to clear it. His mind set off all kinds of alarms, warning him that what he saw before him was an illusion, a cruel manipulation. Yet, something tugged at his emotions, triggering grief and nostalgia in a wave that washed over him, drowning out the voices of reason. “You’re…you’re not real.”

Joey stepped forward, away from the two mummies holding Tracey and Mary. ‘I am real, and we can be together. You can help me.’

“No.” Jason shook his head, defiant. “I don’t believe you.” However, memories began to replay in his head, memories of his childhood with Joey. The vignettes and the emotional responses they triggered tasted putrescent, like the stench of rotting flesh in the hot sun. “No! Stop it!”

Joey reached out a hand. Jason found his own hand reaching out to meet his brother’s, though not of his volition. It was as if he was a passenger on a ride, watching but unable to steer the direction