James Rollins

Language: English

Pages: 525

ISBN: 0061965812

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

High in the Andes, Dr. Henry Conklin discovers a 500-year-old mummy that should not be there. While deep in the South American jungle, Conklin's nephew, Sam, stumbles upon a remarkable site nestled between two towering peaks, a place hidden from human eyes for thousands of years.

Ingenious traps have been laid to ensnare the careless and unsuspecting, and wealth beyond imagining could be the reward for those with the courage to face the terrible unknown. But where the perilous journey inward ends--in the cold, shrouded heart of a breathtaking necropolis--something else is waiting for Sam Conklin and his exploratory party. A thing created by Man, yet not humanly possible. Something wondrous . . . something terrifying.

Night of Thunder (Bob Lee Swagger, Book 5)

Silent Assassin (Dan Morgan, Book 2)

Seizure (Virals, Book 2)











to do it. It was nice to have her this close to him. Even if he was just a convenient pillow. He let his fingers drop from her hair, dismissing any further thoughts. From here, there was no telling where any of them would end up. The small plane landed with a bump onto the tarmac of the airport. The jostling and the whine of the hydraulic brakes had the cabin passengers startling awake. Bleary-eyed faces bent to peer out tiny windows. “We’re already here?” Maggie said, stifling a yawn. “I

Henry found himself being drawn into this story. This was his field of expertise, but he had heard no such stories. “Why are there no records of this discovery?” The abbot shrugged. “Because the Church was summoned and agreed with the conquistadors. The metal was studied, its unusual properties noted, and was declared by Pope Paul III in 1542 to be an abomination in the eyes of our Lord. The work of Satan. The Dominicans who had accompanied the Spanish confiscated all such samples and returned

restrict any further seeping.” Ralph took his own shirt, a thick flannel, and shredded it into strips. Taking a scrap, he touched Norman’s leg. “This will hurt.” “Then let’s not do it,” Norman said sourly, grimacing. Ralph frowned at him. Norman sighed and waved him closer. “Oh, go ahead. Just do it.” Nodding, Ralph took his leg and bent it up. Norman’s knee exploded with pain, like a stick of dynamite going off inside. But worse was the sick grate of bone on bone. Norman gasped, tears in his

her closer to him. “I only wish Uncle Hank were here to see it.” “And Ralph, too,” Maggie said softly. Sam glanced at the woman in his arms. She was staring into the firelight, her eyes ablaze, the warm glow bathing her face. She must have sensed his scrutiny. She turned to him, their faces close, too close. “But you were right, Sam,” she said softly. “Before…when you said the dead don’t begrudge the living. You were right. We’re alive…we’re here. And we mustn’t waste this gift with guilt an’

people. It seemed even the workers in the field had returned for a midday rest. Sam, Maggie, and Denal wandered back to their own shelters. Ahead, Sam noticed that the women who had been cooking at the stove were now spooning out roasted corn and stew into stone bowls. He smiled, suddenly realizing how hungry he was. “We should wake Norman,” Maggie said. “He should try an’ eat.” Denal ran ahead. “I get him,” the boy called back. Maggie and Sam took their places in line before the stove. Other

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