The Seven Swords of Diya: An Indiana Jones Fan Fiction Part 1

Chapter 13: Chinese Triad HQ, Chinese Restaurant, Philadelphia, PA, USA, 1960

Shorty stared at Indy. "I woke up the next morning. All of them were dead. Something had carried them off, dragging. I should have heard them screaming. One of the guys had grabbed a flare gun and shot a hole in the ceiling. I should have heard that. There was blood everywhere. The bones were licked clean and had teeth marks on them. The teeth marks pattern looked human, but sharper. The bones had then been stacked, like the sacrifice victims we'd seen in the Temple of Doom." He paused. "I don't know why I was left alive."

He swallowed. "Something had fractured my arm, and when the Russians found me days later, it had gotten infected. A lady soldier named Lizavet treated it. She was from the region originally." He rolled up his sleeve.

"Are those Bronze Age shaman tattoos used for healing?" Emily asked, leaning closer.

"I... guess... I was in a fever through most of it. She set the bone, and when I woke up - I had these tattoos. I didn't get to ask her about them. The Russians had seperated me from her and I was on a train back home." Shorty swallowed, looking toward Indy. "I really liked her. I'd like to see her again, but the Cold War rivalry between Russia and America is horrible for romance."

Indy chuckled.

Grandmother picked up the story. "When he told me this story I knew he had found Diya... and that the legends were true. Diya is filled with hungry ghosts... or something worse."

"Hungry ghosts?" Emily asked, looking at Indy.

"Asian legends... deceased people who committed crimes, banished to wander, unable to satisfy their needs," Indy explained. "Am I, right - Grandmother?"

"These aren't ghosts!" Shorty insisted. "They are much worse. I never saw anything like these... monsters. They are tall with melted faces, six fingers with claws and appear to be half human and half animal at times."

"Either way, Shorty - Grandmother," Indy bowed slightly to the old woman. "It sounds like you would do better with a priest or shaman. Not an archaeologist."

"I sense things... things are still happening and you must find out what!" Grandmother insisted.

"I don't know how to investigate what I can't see," Indy replied, attempting to be patient.

Grandmother took something from her pocket and blew it into Indy's face.

Indy blinked, shook his head and coughed, trying to clear his lungs. "What was that?"

"My grandson is not the only one who encounters shamans, Dr. Jones. I am one myself. You will soon see what I have seen. Then you will be certain the artifacts are still entombing great evils. And perhaps you will know what to do."

Indy stood, towering over the old woman. "Thank you...?" he questioned, still trying to blink whatever she'd given him from his face and eyes. "But I don't know if there's anything we can do for you, Grandmother. I'm sorry. Thank you for your hospitality. C'mon, Em."

Emily stared at her father in surprise. "Dad?"

"We're leaving, Em," Indy insisted, coughing again. "Good to see you, Shorty."

"You will return," Grandmother warned as the Joneses left her restaurant.

Shorty stared after Indy and Emily. "Grandmother, I can go after them and convince them..."

"No," she held up her gnarled hand. "Dr. Indiana Jones must see for himself. And that will soon happen... But follow him. He will need your bodyguarding skills soon."