by C J Schnier
Mercury spent some time consulting her GPS and her folder of papers. After making several notes on the map, she picked up the compass and took a few bearings before returning all the gear to her bag. She took one last drink from her water bottle and then slung it all over her shoulder. She yanked her machete free, its blade wedged halfway through a nearby fallen tree branch. With all of her gear ready, she took off again. But instead of clambering over the fallen rocks to continue on the path, she turned left and headed directly up the mountain.
"Where are you going?" I thought to myself. "And what's up with all those papers in the folder?"
Blatt's letter to me was only a page or two, at most. She had reams of information at her disposal. I had none. For the second time since meeting Jaye Mercury, I felt completely outclassed. She was much more prepared than I was and appeared to have magnitudes more experience. I couldn't help but wonder why Pruitt hired me instead of her.
I gave her a five-minute head start before sliding off the rock and following her. Within feet of leaving the trail, the speed of my progress plummeted. Thick thorny vines slashed at my limbs. Other branches and plants seemed to move on their own, as if to bar my progress. Jaye Mercury hadn't left much of a path, and silently I cursed her for not taking the effort to chop down more of the offending vegetation.
Worse than the cuts and scrapes was the foul air. The heavy rainforest blocked any vestige of wind. It was also humid enough to make me suspect the native peoples had developed gills to breathe. Rotting vegetation made the thick air even more unpleasant, and it forced me to use my mouth to breathe. But still I followed her. I was going to have that idol, one way or another.
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Sweat. It poured from me like a fountain. Cramps threatened to seize my calves as I climbed up the impossibly steep grade. My mouth hung open as I panted, and a white haze crept in on my vision as my head swam from the exertion. If I didn't drink some water soon, I was going to be in a lot of trouble.
Despite the name, there had been no rain since entering the rainforest. Our path had not crossed any streams either. I had no way of knowing what lay ahead, and the only water I knew of was back in the village. I wasn't even sure I could find the village anymore.
With no compass and only the smallest patches of sky poking through the canopy, I had become completely disoriented. My sense of direction shifted from the cardinal directions of North, South, East, and West, to up and down, back and forth. My only landmark was the mountain, and even it was hard to make out more than a few square yards of it through the growth.
I was following the anorexic path Jaye Mercury had cut. Mostly it went straight up the mountain. But every so often, as if taking mercy on me, it would make a sharp turn and run along the side of the mountain for a while, allowing me to at least catch my breath. Roots and loose stones under the detritus of fallen leaves made footing treacherous, and I spent more time looking down than forward. I thanked whatever sense of intuition I possessed that made me wear real shoes instead of my more accustomed flip-flops.
The one upside to leaving the more established trail was I no longer had to worry about making noise. Flocks of squawking tropical birds filled the jungle with their squabbling. Their squawks helped hide my bumbling ascent of the mountain, masking the sounds of my falls and stumbles.
Occasionally, I moved fast enough through the makeshift trail to catch a glimpse of Jaye Mercury. Other times the thick growth would slow her down enough I would see flashes of her machete as it reflected in the afternoon sun. I looked up and frowned. Soon I would lose that small visual advantage. The sun was setting lower by the minute, elongating the already deep shadows, adding a foreboding sense of claustrophobia to the mountain jungle. If night fell, I would lose her in the darkness. But she showed no signs of slowing or setting up a camp. The woman was a machine.
I might not have been in the best condition of my life. I partake in a few too many midmorning beers, but I wasn't exactly out of shape. Swimming and diving kept me relatively fit, but this mountain and the humid heat was quickly sapping me of my strength and endurance. There was a reason I lived my life at sea level.
At one point, the path ran alongside a steep drop-off. There were obvious signs that people had visited this area of the jungle before. A single galvanized steel cable, an inch in diameter, ran from the ledge back down towards where I thought the village was, disappearing into the treetops hundreds of feet below. It had almost no visible sag in the wire. Whoever had put it here went through the effort of stretching it taut. But why? There were no towers or structures of any kind this far up the mountain. It was a mystery I would normally investigate, but the necessity of finding the idol and following Jaye Mercury overrode my boyish curiosity.
Finally, after hours of hellish hiking, I climbed over a fallen tree trunk and came upon a shallow stream. It's clear waters rushed down the mountain, and to me, looked like a much needed oasis. Following the tiny river up the side of the mountain with my eyes, I could see the vegetation became more sparse a couple hundred feet farther up. How high have we climbed? I wondered to myself. Looking in the opposite direction, I watched as the waters tumbled and spilled in a winding path before disappearing into the jungle. Apparently we had climbed a great deal. It was no wonder I was dehydrated.
I knelt by the stream, cupped my hands, and dipped them into the refreshing cool waters. I was bringing my hands up to drink when I heard something and froze. At first I wasn't sure what it was, but the sounds grew louder and more distinct. It was voices. Men's voices, to be more precise. More words and laughter drifted from the veil of the forest. I couldn't see them, but the voices were clear and loud. Typically, the jungle devoured most sound before it could go far. That meant they had to be close.
I crawled back behind the fallen tree trunk and searched the brush. It didn't take long to find them. There were three men. All three wore olive army fatigues and carried automatic rifles slung on their backs. They were a scant hundred feet downstream of me and doing their best to traverse the stream while staying on the steep mountainside. Their constant chatter was only interrupted by the exertions they expended trying to climb.
Their body language and lack of military discipline told me they weren't on a routine patrol. They didn't expect to find anyone up here in the highlands. They didn't deviate from their path either. It was almost like the men were walking out a strict search pattern along the side of the mountain. The soldiers' presence was not a welcome one. Now I had to track my competition and avoid random patrols from the Cuban military too. This entire trip was beginning to feel like a giant game of capture the flag.
As the men walked away and disappeared into the foliage, I rose from behind the fallen tree trunk. Unimaginable pain shot through my legs and right arm, spreading like fire. To my horror I saw my arm was crawling with huge vicious looking ants!
I swatted at them, but only aggravated them farther, causing me more suffering as dozens of the beasts all bit in unison. Panicked and blinded by pain, I desperately brushed them from my arms and legs, no longer caring if the soldiers or Jaye Mercury heard me. Some of them crawled up my pant legs. A half dozen rapid heartbeats later, I found myself standing pantless and thigh deep in the icy stream before the biting stopped. I was beginning to hate this jungle!
It took a couple of minutes, but I regained my composure. My pants had landed a couple of feet away, half in the stream, half on the bank. One leg was darker than the other, completely soaked through by the water. I checked them for biting insects before sitting down on a rock and pulling them on. I soaked my burning feet in the stream and was relishing in the relief it provided when something metallic caught my eye. Something shiny was in the water below the surface. It flashed and twinkled as it reflected the waning twilight of the forest.
I reached down and plucked a small pea-sized pebble from a rocky ledge in the stream. Its yellow color was unmistakable. Gold. Was that what the soldiers had been looking for? The idol might not be t
he only thing General Bardales was after.
I pocketed the tiny pebble and found another smaller speck a few feet upstream. Looking around, I noticed there were specks scattered throughout the rocks in the streambed. Many were visible with the naked eye, others were so small I only noticed them when I grabbed a handful of sand. For a moment I forgot all about Adrian Pruitt, Jaye Mercury, and the idol. There was a veritable fortune here for the taking. And here you are without GPS or even a map, you idiot, I thought to myself. I had only expected to meet with Miles Blatt and had ignored the motto of the Boy Scouts; be prepared. Any gear worth having was on Paramour, where it did me no good.
I pocketed a few more decent sized gold chips from the stream before I turned my attention back to tracking Jaye Mercury. At least if she beats me to the idol this trip won't be a complete bust, I thought with a smile. I kicked myself one last time for not bringing any gear and forced myself from the bubbling waters. Jaye would have a significant lead by now, but the string of neatly cut plants was easy enough to follow. They marked her path as clearly as any trail marker. It led away from the stream and, as always, continued up the mountain.
◆◆◆
Finally, the terrain and jungle growth thinned out and became easier to navigate. Thick underbrush gave way to wiry grass and weatherworn rocks. The trees grew farther and farther apart, and I could spot Jaye from a greater distance than I had down in the more tropical part of the forest. I crouched behind a tree while I watched her standing on a rock ledge butting up to a cliff. At her feet was a stream. I realized it was most likely the same one I had drank from earlier before the ants attacked. It spilled over the rock and tumbled into a shallow gully, winding its way down the mountain to the sea. Jaye checked her compass and then consulted her paperwork. After a quick look around, she crossed the stream and moved toward the cliff wall, disappearing from my view.
I waited a moment, but she did not reappear. The plant cover was not as thick as at the lower altitudes, and I had to take great care as I moved from tree to tree approaching the ledge. When I climbed high enough to peer over the edge, I found it completely empty. Nothing but grass and rock in a flat plateau running all the way to the cliff face. Where did she go?
There was no place to hide. Shoots of interspersed weeds broke through the large flat rock. I could see no other discernable features. She couldn't have gone up the cliff, and the stone wall was much too large and exposed to have gone around without being seen. Then, folded in a crease in the cliff face, I saw it. A small opening in the rock, a cave.
That had to be where she went. There was no other explanation. The cave's opening was little more than a black fissure in the rock, a great unknown hole. Following her in was an enormous risk. Unable to see anything more than a couple of feet inside meant anything could be in there. Jaye herself could be waiting to ambush me. It was impossible for me to know; the darkness created a perfect blind. But I saw no other alternatives. It would be night soon, and I had to follow her if I wanted any chance at getting paid. Still, I paused, uncertainty holding me back.
It looked regular enough, but somehow felt wrong. An aura of danger seemed to ooze like black ichor from the opening. The feeling was strong enough it made me hesitate. It's only your mind playing tricks on you, Chase. It's just a cave, nothing more. You've been in plenty of caves, this one is no different, I told myself.
Pancho's warning of a curse popped into my mind, but I pushed the thoughts back. I wasn't some superstitious sailor, afraid of the unknown. I didn't know what to expect, but I knew I was going to lose my quarry if I didn't get moving.
I inched up to the entrance, gathered my nerves, and stepped into the darkness.
CHAPTER NINE
The cool blackness enveloped me as soon as I stepped through the opening. The temperatures dropped several degrees while the humidity defied the impossible and increased. It was almost like walking through thick cold fog.
My eyes strained against the dark, their cones and receptors searching for any hint of light. I stepped slowly, always keeping my right hand on the cave's wall. Following one wall was something I had learned in shipboard firefighting training, way back in a previous life. In theory, it allowed a person to always find their way out of an enclosed space, even in complete darkness. In practice, it didn't work nearly as well in a cave as it did in the superstructure of a ship. The uneven terrain and hidden trip hazards relegated my progress to a crawl.
I was hesitant to break out my flashlight. The batteries were good for at least twenty-four hours, but the beam was so bright that even on its lowest setting Mercury would see me coming long before I found her. But the tricky ground and the real threat of pitfalls, along with the low overheads, and plenty of other hazards changed my mind.
I pressed the button on the back of the squat little light and gasped at what I saw. Art covered nearly every surface. This wasn't like the graffiti on the tunnel under the villa. This was real art. Historic art. Untouched for ages.
Figures of all kinds looked down on me from the walls, and for a moment I thought about Doctor Blatt. A sense of sadness passed through me. He would have loved to see this. Most of the paintings were simple line drawings made with either white or black paint. The patterns were geometric, and most of the subjects were little more than stick figures. Despite the simplicity, it was obvious this was a sacred place. The foreboding sense of danger I had felt outside also permeated the inside of the cave.
I let the beam of my light play over the wall I had followed, seeing a nearly unbroken line of figures and patterns all the way to the entrance. Thankfully, my fumbling around in the dark did not seem to damage any of the paintings. However, from what little I knew about archeology, I feared touching them may cause them to deteriorate quicker.
The wall also contained streaks of yellow interspersed throughout the entire cave. As my flashlight danced from one surface to another, I kept catching glimpses of the yellow ore. This entire mountain appeared to be an untapped gold source, but the only tool marks I saw were those of the carvings left by the indigenous Taino people.
Strangely, even with all the paintings and carvings, I saw nothing that could be confused for written language. The figures and faces seemed to tell a story, but there was nothing else. It wasn't like the hieroglyphs I had seen in magazines and textbooks as a child either. The figures and symbols repeated often, but never in any standard or organized way. There were no orderly rows or columns. It was more like one big mural speaking to me from the past.
The line paintings continued on deeper into the cave. Images seemed to dance and flit by me as I moved past them. The cave wound its way deeper and deeper into the mountain cliff. I realized the surrounding darkness was gradually growing lighter, taking a dusky blue color instead of unimaginable black. The quality of the paintings made a noticeable decline as the light grew lighter too, and soon I was staring at a huge opening fully exposed to the world above.
A massive sinkhole had opened at some point, leaving a giant skylight into this underground world. Trees and plants crowded the rim of the sinkhole, spilling over the edge and climbing down the vertical walls. The sinkhole just touched the cave I was in, barely taking out a wall when it collapsed. It left a jagged and gaping hole flanked on either side by crumbling paintings, but no other visible damage. There must have been a lower cave that collapsed, creating this gigantic hole to the surface.
Securing my light in my pocket, I moved to the edge of the sinkhole. Clear water sat undisturbed seventy feet below the now exposed path. The size of the sinkhole was staggering, easily three hundred feet in diameter. It left me feeling tiny and dangerously exposed after the almost intimate confines of the cave and the jungle before that. Involuntarily, I backed away from the edge.
"Watch that first step, it's a doozy," a female voice said, echoing off the stone walls.
"Ladies first, I insist," I replied as I turned on my heel, searching for my rival.
"I thought us Americans were past
that chauvinistic type of talk," Jaye said.
"Oh c'mon now, we're in Latin America. It's called machismo here." I responded, correcting her.
"You're persistent, Chase Hawkins, I will give you that. But you're also foolish," she said as she stepped out of the shadows where the cave dove back into the darkness. The light played off her olive skin, causing her to glow. The yellow streaks in her curly hair shone and reminded me of the gold veins running through the surrounding walls. She could have passed as a warrior goddess tasked with guarding this forgotten hole.
"You forgot resourceful and sexy. Especially sexy," I heard myself say with mock hurt. I had a nasty habit of devolving into a terrible smartass when in dangerous situations. It was a trait that had occasionally helped me in the past. It had also occasionally backfired with spectacular results.
She let out a single mocking laugh and moved farther into the light. "You really are a fool."
"So, what now?" I asked, trying to feel her out. Her face remained unemotional and unreadable. She seemed just as likely to kill me as to send me on my way.
Jaye Mercury pulled her machete from the leather scabbard slung across her hips and played with it in the light, causing it to flash several times before finally speaking. "I gave you a chance to leave all of this back in the village. But here you are, and I can't afford to have you following me."
"Does that mean you won't go out with me?" I asked.
She answered by taking a few confident steps forward and brandishing the two-foot long steel blade as if she was testing its balance. Her icy gray eyes remained fixed on me as she methodically advanced.
"I'll take that as a no," I said, and backed up some more.
