Chapter 5 — Four Hunters on a Bloody Trail

Alzheimers in Atacama

Chapter 5 — Four Hunters on a Bloody Trail

The lovers flee into the Andes as Kaspi's four best hunters close in. Chaska begins to falter in the snow — until Allpa spots a mysterious cottage he has never seen before.

← Karl Swainston / Alzheimers in Atacama

The two young Incas made haste, and within a few hours, they had not only reached the foothills of Atacama's climbs but had ascended a path Allpa knew well, as he had regularly taken his llamas there for pasture.

"We must move quickly to beat not only the soldiers of Kaspi, my love, but also the encroaching storm which blows with temper from the angry inclines of the Andes."

Chaska hadn't heard her love speak for such a long time. His words brought a deep warmth to her heart and invigorated her limbs to strive onward, for she knew death was the only thing waiting should they fail to escape.

"Remember, Chaska, the stars have given us fortune, and we must behold their charm. Hold on to me, and we'll escape this hell of ours."

Misfortune, however, was already hard upon their flight. Kaspi, hearing of Chaska's charm and beauty, had arrived a night early. Learning of her escape, his guards slew her parents, and in a fit of hatred, they were now hot on their trail.

Four of the most experienced hunters were sent to track down and kill the fleeing lovers. They were implacable and full of service to their Lord, refusing to be denied. Even when they reached the majestic slopes of the Andes, they moved like a relentless wind, taking no heed of any obstacle. Within a very short time, they were only hours behind their quarry. They possessed all the acumen of the trail, and the fresh falling snow gave easy evidence of the prey's flight. It was only a matter of time before the lovers were caught and slain.

Chaska was exhausted. Allpa could feel her slowing markedly as he made his way up the mountain, careful to avoid the shaggy crags that would bring death to them both. He pulled upon his love, cajoled her with encouraging words, and used every ounce of energy in his body and soul to help her move upward and away from danger.

But it was not to be. She began to fall as the snow and cold deepened around her.

Then, he saw a cabin not far away—a cabin he had never seen before, but he knew it to be their only haven in this desperate plight. Surged with renewed vigor, Allpa set off through the wildness and headed for the mysterious cottage.

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Karl Swainston

About Karl Swainston

Karl Swainston is a writer and storyteller whose work is forged from a life lived across the North of England and far beyond. Growing up on a Leeds council estate in the 1960s, Karl's journey was anything but linear. By the age of thirty, he had already lived a dozen lives: from the rigors of grammar school to a degree in Latin, a stint as a fishmonger, a period of discovery living in Marseille, and a return to the hustle of London. Whether working as a postman, a builder, or competing as a county-level chess player, he was, above all, an avid reader—constantly documenting the world around him. This restless spirit continued into his professional life. Karl later taught in Bradford, where he ran a specialist unit for 244 of the most excluded students from across the region—young people whom even the local Pupil Referral Units could not accommodate. Working alongside his old friend Malcolm, Karl spent his days navigating the volatility of Bradford's most aggressive and dysfunctional teenagers. Throughout his life, Karl has been an avid runner and has always shared his home with a rotating cast of beloved dogs and cats—companions who have been constant witnesses to his work. As a writer, Karl's range is as expansive as his history. He works across a wide breadth of genres, including fiction and short stories, autobiography and memoir, biography, non-fiction, and metaphysical writing, as well as providing sharp commentary, opinion, analysis, and essays. Whether writing about his years managing the Harrogate Arms or offering insights from his current adopted home in South East India, where he lives in a simple village with his dog, Bambi, Karl's voice reflects the full, untidy, and deeply human breadth of life. He continues to draw on the rich, decades-long tapestry of his experiences to tell stories that matter, proving that no matter where you live, the human story remains the same.

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