We dodge a couple more but make it there without another close call. The ceiling being hundreds of feet in the air gives us ample time to clear the path of each successive boulder. It starts to thin out as we get farther and farther away from the pyramid, making travel much smoother and easier. Ares even gets to slow down a little, which is perfect for my inner thighs and everything else associated with the region.

  Still watching the ceiling above, I don’t notice that Ares had stopped until he huffs, getting my attention. He stopped right in between the two stairwells, kneeling, allowing me to climb off. I gingerly walk around to the creature’s head, trying not to fall into any of the forming crags.

  “Thanks,” I say, patting his snout, “for everything.”

  Ares gives me a nudge and then wanders over to the lava-beach. I’m not quite sure what to make of this, but don’t intervene. He then turns back towards me with what can only be a smile and roars as loud as he can.

  It’s so powerful that a fissure opens up further down the beach. Then, Ares, the first and greatest, does the unthinkable. He casually strolls straight into the molten lava, taking Omar’s remains with him. They both disintegrate as the magma eats away at their bodies. Omar’s is gone in a flash, being flesh and bone, but Ares was as solid as, well…stone. I’m really not sure how long it will take for him to dissolve. Either way, it doesn’t matter, they’re gone forever, and I’m officially left alone.

  I just stare blankly into the fiery shallows. Did the strongest beast to ever live just kill himself? Then I remember that Ares had a human mind. I have no doubt that he fully remembered everything he did or was done to him in his lifetime. He may have even had a family before Nannot corrupted him. The millennia of torture he had to endure must have been incomprehensible. Where all the other Nightmares were beasts mentally, Ares was entirely human.

  I close my eyes and say a quiet prayer for all the marred souls here. When finished, I turn and make my way up the first set of stairs, arriving at the landing a moment later. I stop and stare out over the now half-broken necropolis, still not believing I’m here. I can still see the beauty this place once had. But once Nannot, The End of All Things, was entrapped here, it all turned for the worse.

  I visualize the once pristine and pure waters from my dream. So beautiful and peaceful. Now, a river of magma.

  The once vast fruit orchards eventually withered and turned to stone.

  The majestic golden pyramid became a literal house of horrors.

  All because of one man’s selfish wants and desires.

  I look up as another chunk of rock falls, this one as big as an airplane hangar. It silently makes its way straight down, colliding with the top of the dark pyramid, driving straight through. The place that once held mankind’s greatest enemy is now a smear of flattened rubble.

  It’s for the best, I think.

  I turn and continue up the second set of steps, never looking back. We’re done here. I don’t need to see this place get wiped off the face of the earth. It’s already been lost to time and history for as long as it was, what’s another couple thousand years going to matter? I seriously doubt we’re going to be able to divulge any of this to the media. The deaths of those here will probably be blamed entirely on Zero, which in essence, isn’t necessarily lying. Yes, Nannot caused a lot of damage and was responsible for numerous deaths, but it was the shadowy organization that orchestrated his release.

  We’re not done with you yet…

  I enter the tunnel entrance and put my glasses back on, flicking on the night vision. “How do these things still work?” I ask myself, laughing a little. I take a steady breath, feeling tired for the first time in what seems like forever. I then smile slightly, thinking of what Nannot wanted.

  The complete destruction of Atlantis and the world.

  Well, he got part of his wish. It’s gone…but not entirely by his hand.

  It’s sad to know I physically helped to destroy this place, but in the end, it was for the greater good. Mankind would have been doomed if he made it to the surface.

  It was for the greater good.

  I move up the last few stairs, past the broken stone slab that trapped us here in the first place and step into the tunnel. As I carry on, the sounds of the cavern coming apart fade to nothingness. The only evidence of its continued collapse is the occasional tremor rumbling through the earth around me.

  After untold minutes I stumble and catch myself, putting my hand on the wall for balance. I flex my foot and feel a slight twinge of pain in my ankle. I wait, but nothing happens. It still hurts a little. It’s not going to instantly heal like before.

  I smile.

  It’s good to be me again.

  Ω Ω Ω

  Now you’d think I’d hustle back down the tunnel as fast as I could right? You’d also think I wouldn’t want to stay in this hellhole for any longer than I had to. Well, you’re wrong. I get to the pictographs and carvings—the ones depicting Atlantis in its prime—and stop. I just stop and stare.

  I saw these images play out for real with my own eyes. I saw the beauty of this place, and I witnessed the betrayal. I saw a flourishing kingdom and its people and a battle to protect them. If anything, this shows me that one person really can make a difference. You just have to decide whether that action is one of honor or one of betrayal.

  I place my hand on the image and close my eyes. I ask Thoth or the three priests to contact me, but they don’t answer. The slab is just cold and lifeless, just as I hoped it would be.

  Finally content, I step away from the wall and nod my goodbye. I make my way back to the shaft entrance in silence. I have no idea what happens next, but what I do know is that I still have some unanswered questions. I guess they’re curiosities really, like if the four siblings were so strong, how strong was Thoth himself? He was infused with the original orichalcum elixir and taught his sons everything they knew. I guess that’s a question for another day—

  “Hank!” yells a voice. It echoes through the remnants of the tunnel bouncing back-and-forth off the walls, dissipating as it passes. I look up from my feet, startled by the sudden uproar. My gloom fades as I see a glowing, joyful face. We meet halfway across the cheese wheel-shaped room, me from one side and them from the other. We all stop, standing on the very spot where a dozen Special Forces soldiers died looking for this place. In fact, their still mangled corpses are scattered around our feet.

  “You made it,” says the person, but I’m lost in thought. I still can’t wrap my mind around everything that’s happened. It’s just insane to think it was all real. We came here to find the Lost City of Atlantis, a romantic fairytale of sorts, and instead found the deadliest enemy man has never known.

  I remove my glasses, looking into her eyes, lost.

  “Your eyes, Hank. They’re still gold.”

  She pulls out her mirror again and goes to open it, but I cut her off, gently pushing it aside.

  “It doesn’t matter. I'm all right.”

  “You sure?” she asks.

  I nod.

  “Harrison?”

  Through the beam of light emanating from above, I see two more people emerge, greeting me with joyful expressions.

  I look to my left and see Dad, safe and sound, a large toothy smile plastered on his face. And on my right, is Kane—beat to hell, but still grinning like a boy with matches.

  “You okay?” Nicole asks again. She then reaches out and strokes my cheek. Her touch is like magic, making me feel like I’m immortal once more.

  Am I okay? I’ve been asked that a lot lately and my answer is always a shrug and a smirk. But this time, I’m going to be completely honest. I look up towards our original entry point and breathe. I can almost smell the fresh air high above. I just hope the damage to our camp is minimal and the people there are okay, but from what Omar had said, there may have been a few casualties.

  Be honest with how you feel. Are you okay? I’m mentally and physically broken. I’m beyond tired. And I’ve been physiologically violated numerous times by people who’ve been technically dead for thousands of years.

  Okay… I’m going to be honest.

  I look up and am captivated by the most beautiful pair of blue eyes I’ve ever seen, and step closer. I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her in, our lips almost touching. She doesn’t resist my touch, which tells me all I need to know.

  Am I okay?

  I smile broadly, truthfully answering her question. “Never better.”

  A MESSAGE FROM MATTHEW JAMES /

  BEHIND THE SCENES: BLOOD AND SAND

  Thank you for supporting me and picking up a copy of this book. I truly hope you enjoyed it. The fact that people are reading books written by me is still honestly mind-blowing.

  The Anniversary Edition of Blood and Sand was something I wanted to do since January. It may not seem like a huge ordeal to some people, but this was my first book, and the undertaking of getting this thing done was one of the best—and hardest—seasons of my life. It started me down a new path, and I haven’t looked back since.

  Hank, Nicole, and Kane were my first action heroes, and I’ve grown to love them dearly. It’s a weird sensation when you write a scene about characters you developed from nothing more than an idea. You feel responsible for their safety and for their actions. You love them for their faults and weaknesses, and their strengths bring you pride. They make me smile when I write about them.

  This updated edition is a testament to the love I have for them. I’ll always adore this story above the rest because of what it personally means to me—how it changed my life. The original version had its errors like any other debut, but for the most part, it took to the masses with resounding success. I will never be shy about being a new writer. I WILL MAKE MISTAKES. I think of this quote every time I look back on the night I told my wife I wanted to write a book…

  “Amateurs sit and wait for inspiration, the rest of us just get up and go to work.” –Stephen King

  Smart guy, huh? I sat and waited for a long time, feeling like I could do something more with my life. I had enough of the ‘sitting by’ and letting my imagination rot. So, in August 2014, I sat down with a yellow ledger pad and a pen I accidentally took home from church (whoops!), and I started working on the story that would become Blood and Sand.

  HANK BOYD went through a few surname changes (although it was always Harrison/Hank from day one). He was my homage to Harrison Ford, or more specifically, Indiana Jones. Indy for me is like how some people look at Star Wars or Star Trek. I’m a little obsessed with the Indiana Jones universe and have memorabilia plastered all over my office. Every time I go to write, I’m literally surrounded by the king of action/adventure.

  NICOLE ANDERSSON was fun because she intimidates the hell out of Hank—and even Kane sometimes. I love a strong female lead. It matters to me that they can fend for themselves when need be. But I also like to show their inner struggles and emotions too (all my characters really). Andersson is actually my wife’s maiden name if you minus out the second ‘S.’ Her great-grandparents changed the spelling to Anderson when they moved to America from—ding, ding, ding—you guessed it, Sweden!

  JEREMY KANE is honestly the most fun to write about. I even gave him a little backstory event in book two of the series, Mayan Darkness. You get to see what he was like before he became the CIA operative you know him as. His character and relationship with Hank and Nicole really blossom in that one. His personality really came about when I thought back to all the 90’s action movies I grew up watching, with the likes of Stallone, Arnold, Segal, and Van Damme. I wanted an amazingly badass guy with a great sense of comedic timing.

  His name is something that is near and dear to my heart. Jeremy Kane is actually named after the two men who have helped and mentored me since day one: Jeremy Robinson and Kane Gilmour. Both are incredibly gifted authors and even better human beings. Thanks a ton guys!

  Well, I hope you enjoyed this Anniversary Edition ‘Behind the Scenes’ tour of Hank and company’s first adventure together. If this was your first time reading Blood and Sand, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Mayan Darkness is a great next step considering book three of the series, Babel Found, is coming out later this fall. If this was your second or maybe fifth time reading it, well then, I’m blushing… Either way, could you please, please, please leave a review on Amazon? They are what drive books to be advertised, and I can’t express how important they are. Authors literally live and die by them, especially the indie ones, like myself.

  Also, if you have any questions or comments or just want to stop by and say “Hi,” visit me on my Author Page on Facebook or go to my website. Both are listed in the ‘About the Author’ section on the next page.

  Thanks again, Matt

  MAYAN DARKNESS

  MAYAN DARKNESS

  A Hank Boyd Adventure - Book 2

  By Matthew James

  Description:

  On the heels of their amazing discovery under the Sahara, Hank Boyd and his team find themselves in another precarious situation. This time, they must stop Zero, the shadowy organization that violently hunted them in Algeria, from releasing an ancient and deadly weapon. The target? All of humanity.

  From the Yucatan to the streets of D.C., Hank and company must try to find a way to prevent the potential catastrophe. Time is running out as an enemy from mankind's past, aided by someone from Kane's, tries to continue work set into motion millennia ago.

  Will they succeed in stopping Zero before the fall of the human race? If they don't... The world will crumble to ash and be extinguished by an all-consuming darkness.

  PROLOGUE

  Teotihuacan, Mexico

  549 A.D.

  Xiuhcoatl laughed at the paranoia his father’s priests expressed caused by the theft of the weapon he now possessed. They thought it would anger Huitzilopochtli, the war god—the god of fire—and bring a damning vengeance down upon the kingdom.

  Fools, Xiuhcoatl thought as he strolled down the Avenue of the Dead—due north—his war party close behind. They know nothing. It is I who am the ‘Bringer of Fire’—the ‘Serpent.’ It is I who will destroy our enemies with this. He gripped the sack he carried tighter, anticipating its contents eventual release. But first, he needed to show his father, the king, that his latest quest was a success.

  His father was a peaceful man by their culture’s standards. Some say he was too peaceful. Those included Xiuhcoatl, who himself was known throughout the land as a savage and a warmonger. But in the end, he was well-respected for his almost guaranteed victories. And it was for that very reason he was also feared. Some say the king even feared him.

  I never fail. Just like tonight.

  He looked around, searching the eyes of his people. His future empire. The king was not long for this world and had been ill recently. His demise would be the rise of a new monarchy. One led with ruthless efficiency and a vision for expansion. He would not rest until all of the surrounding land was under his rule.

  Xiuhcoatl even had his mother’s blessing, though the king wasn’t aware of it. She, the queen, was even more ferocious and callous than her son, but being a woman, she was forced to the background because of tradition.

  As he reached the end of the long road, entering the Plaza of the Moon, Xiuhcoatl quickly became aware of the surrounding crowd changing from local citizens to more and more of a military presence.

  A brief look of worry could be seen on the young Prince’s face if for only a second, but he soon scoffed at the idea of his father sending a platoon of troops to kill him and his party. Instead, being the showman that he was, he stuck out his broad, muscular chest, which only accentuated his blood covered physique, adding to the intimidation.

  Seeing a few of the onlooker’s eyes widen at his malevolent form, he continued past the central altar that sat in the middle of the plaza. He then continued on to where his father awaited him, at the foot of the Pyramid of the Moon.

  The pyramid was one of Teotihuacan’s most sacred and important sites, even to one as heartless as Xiuhcoatl was. Elaborate ceremonies were conducted here in the name of the Great Goddess herself, the goddess of fertility, water, and of the earth.

  His father spent most of his time here, praying and asking the goddess for guidance and wisdom. He should have been taking matters into his own hands like me, Xiuhcoatl thought, sneering at the idea of asking for help. He believed begging and pleading to anyone, even the Great Goddess herself, was a waste of time and a show of weakness. Action needed to be taken, and he had no problem stepping in and fulfilling that role, even at the request of his father to do otherwise.

  As he reached the base of the pyramid, Xiuhcoatl stopped, commanding his men to do the same. Then as one, they all bowed, kneeling to one knee and dipping their heads in respect to their king. All, except the prince that was.

  “Son, why do you not pay your respects like the others do? Have I not earned at least that much from you?” The king asked, descending the last of the stairs. “If not for me, you could at least pay reverence to your goddess.” He motioned back towards the peak of the megalith.

  The prince just stood there stone-faced and unamused as he bore holes into his father’s eyes. The king, not one to back down from anyone— especially in front of more than half the kingdom—stood his ground, crossing his arms.

  King Meztli halted his descent, stopping on the second step of the staircase. Standing tall, he was still barely eye-to-eye with his disobedient son, his empire’s general.

  The king did not speak, waiting for his son to explain himself. He explicitly forbade Xiuhcoatl from crossing the eastern border, especially if it was to retrieve what he knew his son wanted.