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“Fuck! Are you okay?” Billie asked.

The man smiled. “It’s all right. I’ve had worse nicks shaving. Doesn’t even hurt, actually.” He then gripped the trigger of his machine gun, and fired another burst toward the enemy. The first one was short, but the second one seemed to continue until he emptied the magazine.

“Stop firing!” Mark complained. “You’re wasting ammunition!”

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t know what’s happened. I can’t feel my hand. I can’t feel anything… in fact… I can’t…”

Billie looked at the soldier. “He’s stopped breathing!”

“Damn it! The arrows must be poison tipped!” Mark said.

“Is there anything we can do?” Edward asked.

“I’ve no fucking idea Mr. Worthington! Until today, no one even knew that the Makan tribe really existed, let alone what poison they use to arm their spearheads.”

Billie squatted down and felt for a pulse. “He’s got a pulse, but it looks like his muscles have all stopped working. That’s why his diaphragm has stopped. If we ventilate him, he should live.”

“That’s great, but in case you didn’t notice, we’re all a little busy right now,” Mark said, before letting off another burst of bullets.

Another hundred or more pygmies stood proudly above them in a sign of strength, despite the certainty they were going to be gunned down. But for every one that died, another took his place with the equanimity of a man who honestly believes he is going to a greater place.

Every time Billie snuck a peek above her it became ever clearer that their superior weaponry was no match for the pygmies’ sheer numbers and brutal dedication to the cause.

“Okay, don’t waste any more shots. We’re going to run out. Only target any who descend into the amphitheater,” Mark said.

“And if they all descend?” Edward asked, his right eyebrow turned upwards.

Mark gritted his teeth. “Then we’re all royally fucked.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

The pygmies watched in muted silence, and then they came — armed with machetes. Mark’s face was aghast with the abhorrent realization that he’d greatly underestimated the force of his enemies, and was about to pay with his life.

At little over four feet tall, the machete-wielding pygmies wreaked terror as they approached like a stampede of wild animals. They jumped across each moat as they reached it. Those who didn’t make it succumbed to the hungry instincts of the crocodiles, until enough men had fallen that even the beasts no longer felt interested in eating.

A gate opened at the other side of the moat and dozens of the angry tribesmen in dugout canoes paddled toward Billie.

There was nothing that any of them could do to stop the onslaught.

Mark, along with the other mercenaries, carefully targeted the heads of each pygmy, as they approached the final moat. Soon the ancient tribal warriors broke through, one at a time, killing the soldiers.

One after another, Edward’s mercenaries were picked off.

The last surviving four people huddled together in the remaining corner. Hugo, the ex-Navy SEAL was grabbed by several pygmies, who eagerly ripped his arms off and threw him into the water. A moment later, a crocodile, sensing an easy prey, snapped its massive jaw over the poor man’s head.

Billie accepted her fate to die.

In a strange act of fatalism, she stood up, realizing that her death here was meaningless compared to that which was coming to mankind if she failed. Around her, everyone had been killed, with the exception of Mark, and Edward.

And then the sound stopped.

In its absence, the entire amphitheater became ghostly quiet. Every single pygmy warrior had stopped, and each one stared at her.

A moment later, in unison, they all bowed their heads in reverence.

It was her necklace!

The orichalcum looked marvelous on its own, but outright dull compared to the massive dome of Poseidon. But maybe they had never seen anyone else with the rich metal before. Either way, it was enough to stop them, for the moment at least.

Out of ammo, the remaining survivors were surrounded by twenty or more pygmies with arrows pointed directly at them. It was over — they had lost, and Atlantis would continue until its prophecy ended in deadly consequence.

She forced her eyes to remain open. If she was going to die, the least she could ask for was to see it coming.

But the spear never fell on her.

No machetes lashed at her, severing her limbs and neck, as they had with the rest of her party.

Instead, each pygmy bowed in adoration. The sound of crashing thunder, which had only seconds earlier deafened the party as the entire tribe of warriors raced toward them, changed to a daunting silence.

It appeared they revered her as a God — their God.

Chapter Fifty

Billie tested her theory and attempted to walk through the pygmy warriors. Instantly, her hopes were dashed by several spear heads pointing at her throat, close enough that if she made another step forward they would pierce her.

She stopped at looked directly at her attackers. They were short. The tallest was less than four feet. Their skin was pale, but where some darker skin remained, the warriors had covered themselves with what appeared to be white clay. Otherwise, they were entirely naked. Their eyes were dark and their teeth glowed wickedly in the darkness.

“What do you want from me?” she asked.

One man, his skin covered with thick white clay, approached. He was naked like the others, but this one wore a single ornament of orichalcum on his head. “Ah, so you are one of the great ones.” He looked at the other pygmies and speaking in his own language, caused them to return to their previous position of adoration and bowing.

Billie was unsure how she was supposed to answer the little man, whom she perceived to be the tribal leader. And then she noticed him staring in awe at her necklace — the glow of the orichalcum catching his attention.

“Yes,” she answered him, surprised. “You speak English?”

“Yes, I have learned your language. You are not the first one to have come here — trying to take it!” he accused her.

She smiled warmly at him. “We have come only to find answers. There is nothing that we seek to take. This is an expedition of knowledge, not destruction. That I can promise.”

Edward attempted to step forward, but a number of spears stopped him.

“That’s not entirely true. You have come to collect it, haven’t you? As was prophesied all those years ago. You have come to collect the code to Atlantis.”

She almost cried out in surprise.

How could this little pygmy know about the code to Atlantis?

Uncertain what he expected of her, Billie answered as best she could. “Yes, I have come to collect the code to Atlantis.”

The little pygmy bowed his head her, holding it there for a full minute and then standing up at his proud four feet, with a grinning white smile, “Then you should have it.”

They’re just going to give it to me? It all seemed too easy, after all they had been through. She noted that none of his warriors had lowered their spears, despite his friendliness.

“Thank you,” Billie said, looking back to the dome of Poseidon.

The tribal leader smiled maliciously at her. “But first, you must prove that you are one of the ancient Gods.”

Billie paused. Uncertain what path to take next, she replied, “Of course. How would you like me to prove it to you?”

“The temple was built by your people. Only if you truly are one of them would you be equally wise, strong, and brave enough to enter.”