The Crypt Trilogy Bundle

by Bill Thompson

  I’m going to die today too, Dick reflected, since I called Rolando an asshole.

  Am I next? each one of them thought silently.

  Rolando strode confidently to where the men had entered the jungle and called out, “Pepe, esta bien?” Everything okay?

  No response.

  “Pepe?”

  He walked into the bushes for a split second then came out yelling orders. Two more guards ran into the jungle, pistols drawn and ready to fire.

  Rolando waited.

  Ted turned to Mark. “What the hell just happened? Where’s Pepe?”

  “Gavin got away. Pepe’s dead, because Rolando just told his guys to find Gavin.”

  Suddenly the buzzing of insects stopped again as two more shots rang out, further away this time.

  Rolando watched for his men to return. Five minutes passed. Then five more. Nothing.

  He went back into the shack. This isn’t going well. I’m changing the plans. Now.

  The other guards were worried. One walked across to Rolando’s shack and said, “Juan! Donde estan los hombres?” Where are the men?

  Rolando didn’t answer them.

  No one knew where Pepe and the other two guards were, but the hostages knew Rolando’s actual name was Juan. Mark cautioned the others not to use that name. No need to piss him off more than he already was.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  When Pepe had run into the jungle, Paul was ready. He’d signaled Gavin to wait. Paul’s single shot killed the guard instantly. He scooped up the man’s pistol, and he and Gavin ran through the jungle toward the trail. Making noise wasn’t an issue with all of the yelling and screaming coming from the campsite.

  Rolando walked to where Pepe lay and saw the single shot to his head. Both Pepe’s pistol and Gavin were gone. As hard as it was to believe, the author must have overpowered Pepe without a sound, taken his weapon and then killed him with it. Rolando immediately sent two more men to the jungle to bring Gavin back, dead or alive. The American wouldn’t last long in the jungle anyway, but he wanted him as an example for the others.

  When Paul and Gavin were a hundred yards away, they paused to see if other guards would come for Gavin. Suddenly two more came crashing through the thick vines. Paul took aim and shot these two rebels as easily as he had the first. He ran back, picked up their weapons and then took Gavin to the trail. After a short distance, he told Gavin to wait in the underbrush. Paul had to get back to the hostages. He gave Gavin all three of the rebels’ guns, just in case. He kept his own Sig Sauer and an extra magazine of ammunition.

  Rolando heard the two gunshots. Satisfied that the matter was now dealt with, he waited for his men to return. After ten minutes, he knew something crazy was happening. He’d lost three men in a flash. Inexplicably, Rolando now had only eleven left. With Gavin gone, there were eight hostages, still plenty of manpower to maintain order. And there would be fewer hostages very soon.

  How could Gavin kill Pepe with his own gun? Rolando couldn’t understand. Pepe was one of his best. He wouldn’t have been an easy one to overpower, especially without a sound. And then Gavin, who was supposed to be an author, killed two more? This just didn’t make sense.

  He would fix this little problem. His hostages wouldn’t be so bold next time, once they saw what he was capable of. He was ready for the next step. He went outside, looked at Alison and said, “Bitch. Come with me. You will pleasure me one more time before you die.” He laughed heartily as she trembled.

  “Why don’t you pick on one of us instead?” Julio spat in Spanish. “Is she easy for you because she’s weak? Does that make you feel more manly?”

  “Watch yourself, compadre. I promised to let you live, but that can change. I’m taking her instead of you because she has what a man needs. Perhaps you find pleasure in other men, but for me, I’ll stick with mujeres.” He looked at Dick, aimed his fingers and did a pistol shot. “You’re next, asshole.”

  He told a guard to bring Alison to the shack. As the man reached for her arm, Bart suddenly grabbed his leg and pulled his feet out from under him. The rebel fell to the ground with a grunt and dropped his rifle. Doc Spence snatched it and aimed it at Rolando, who stood defiantly and pointed at the doctor’s elderly wife. Rolando’s lieutenant, Diego, held a pistol two inches from Mary Spence’s head.

  “Drop your weapon or Diego will kill your wife.”

  “Shoot him!” Mary yelled. “Kill him! Don’t worry about me!”

  “A foolish request,” Rolando commented fearlessly. “If you shoot me, my men will finish what I’ve started. Those are their orders. In the meantime, your wife will certainly die.”

  Defeated, the surgeon handed the rifle back to the guard Bart had taken down.

  “Sorry, everyone…”

  Rolando laughed. “I’m sure they understand, Dr. Spence. You saved your wife but maybe lost everyone else. The price you have to pay, I suppose.” He whispered something to one of his men, who walked away. Rolando jerked Alison by the hair and dragged her away like a caveman. With a swift kick he booted her inside his shack.

  After leaving Gavin, Paul had returned just in time to see the scene play out. He admired Doc’s courage, even though it hadn’t worked. It was up to him now. He had to move fast; Rolando would make an example of Alison as soon as he’d gotten a last round of sex.

  Paul knew there had been fifteen rebels at first, counting Rolando. He’d just killed three, so that left twelve. There were also eight hostages. The majority – Julio, Ted, Mark, Dick and Bart – were in their thirties or forties and agile. They could fight. The others – Doc, Mary and Alison – might help but likely couldn’t. No way to know until it happened. The Spences were older, and Alison was volatile, fragile and unpredictable.

  He again tried to count the guards, but he kept making mistakes. They were constantly milling around, talking and smoking while they encircled the seated hostages. It was hard to keep up with them long enough for a count. Now he put more effort into it.

  He counted again and wondered if he’d made a mistake. There were ten, one less than there should have been. Was one inside with Rolando? He didn’t think so. He started a third time. One, two, three –

  “Your count was correct the first time, Señor.” He heard quiet words from behind him and felt the barrel of a rifle in his back.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Paul quietly said, “I knew from my count there was one more of you bastards around somewhere.”

  Paul’s response surprised the guard. He’d expected this gringo to be scared, but instead he seemed very much at ease. Whoever he was, this man was dangerous.

  The guard said, “Juan sent me to find you. There had to be someone hiding in the jungle. Let’s go show him what I’ve found.” He jabbed the barrel hard into Paul’s back.

  Suddenly Paul whirled around, pushing the rifle aside and jamming his pointer and middle fingers into the rebel’s throat at the top of his neck. He’d employed this technique before – a quick thrusting jab in exactly the right place would crush the larynx. The victim couldn’t cry out for help – he couldn’t say a word or take a breath. If a tracheotomy weren’t performed immediately, he faced a brief but agonizing death.

  Startled by Paul’s quick movement, the rebel suddenly realized he was in deep trouble. He tried to suck in air as incredible hot waves of pain shot through his neck, but he couldn’t breathe. He dropped his rifle and grabbed his throat, clawing desperately as if that would open his windpipe.

  Paul could have saved him pain by crushing his skull with the butt of the rifle. Unfortunately for the rebel, Paul couldn’t risk any noise, so he left the man to writhe on the ground in the throes of a horrible death by suffocation. Paul heard gurgling as he turned back to the people being held hostage. Within seconds, the man was still.

  Rolando’s sexual encounter with Alison had obviously been less than satisfying. That wasn’t surprising, given her general condition and his promise to disembowel her in front of he
r fellow captives. Everyone could hear the screams coming from Rolando’s hut. Not screams of ecstasy. Far from it. These were screams of pain, of horror, of revulsive terror. There was no sexual pleasure in the sounds that came from the shack. Paul waited, poised to strike when he saw an opening.

  She came out first with Rolando trailing close behind. She was still naked, but the rope was gone. He pushed her roughly toward the campsite where her friends sat. She fell to the ground; everyone saw the cruel red marks on her face, breasts and back. Apparently when she wasn’t able to do whatever it was he’d wanted, he’d beaten her mercilessly.

  The strain on the hostages was almost too much to bear by now. Even the normally quiet Mary Spence had had enough. She yelled, “You’re a savage. I hope you rot in hell for what you’re doing.”

  Roberto ignored the insult. “Tie the whore to that tree,” he ordered, pointing. Two guards grabbed Alison by the arms and jerked the naked girl to her feet. Her wailing protests cut to the hearts of the others, but none of them could help her. The rebels secured her to the tree with ropes.

  In the heat of the moment, Rolando hadn’t noticed that another of his men was missing. He sent one of his men to fetch his machete. Rolando walked to Alison and held it close to her chest. He ran its sharp tip carefully from her neck down to her breasts, barely ticking the skin. A tiny slit opened up and droplets of blood emerged.

  “Please…” she begged. “I tried to do what you wanted. I’ll try again now. In front of everyone if it makes you happy. Please don’t…”

  “Your time is up,” Rolando said harshly. He brought the machete back, preparing to thrust it into her abdomen. “Are you ready?”

  “Are YOU?” came a shout from the jungle.

  Rolando pivoted around to see where the voice came from just as the top of his head blew backwards in a gush of bone, brains and blood. As he fell to the ground, Bart and Dick jumped up to untie Alison.

  “Deja o se muere!” Stop or you die!

  The command came from Diego, Rolando’s lieutenant. The men didn’t understand the words, but the intent was clear, as were the guns pointed at them. They paused, hoping Paul would fire again.

  He couldn’t. Diego was too close to the hostages to risk a shot. What had worked for Rolando wasn’t feasible now. Bart and Dick sat down as Diego sent two guards into the jungle where the shout had come from. Still tied to the tree, Alison struggled to get loose.

  Four gunshots rang out almost immediately, followed by a guttural scream.

  “Diego!” A booming voice from the forest rang out in Spanish. “It’s over. You can live or you can die.”

  The rebel was stunned. Who the hell was talking? He shot a glance at another of his men and nodded toward the clearing. The man slipped away, heading toward the jungle on the opposite side. He was going to circle around and ambush whoever was there.

  Bart yelled, “Watch out! One’s coming –”

  A guard swung the butt of his rifle, connecting solidly with Bart’s temple and knocking him unconscious. That brought more screams from the hostages. Ted and Mark started to get up, but the rebels pushed them back.

  The guard reached the edge of the clearing, but never entered the jungle. Another gunshot – another dead man.

  The voice spoke again. “Diego, think what you’re doing. You’re losing all your men. You only have seven left. Release the girl, put down your weapons, and you can all live.”

  “Who are you?” he yelled back. “Where are you?” He held his pistol in front of him with both hands, ready to shoot anything that moved. As his eyes scanned the perimeter, a shot rang out. This one came from a different direction, but it hit the mark perfectly.

  Diego dropped his pistol. He looked down at the bloodstain rapidly spreading from a hole in the center of his shirt. Then he fell forward and hit the ground with a resounding thump.

  “Hombres! Put down your weapons now or you’re dead men!” Paul’s voice again.

  Mark jumped up and yelled, “Get their guns.” Four of the six rebels, facing shooters in the jungle and outnumbered by hostages, dropped their weapons in defeat. They stood with hands held high in the air as their former captives scooped up weapons and gathered ropes to restrain the rebels. They tied them securely to a small tree and left Bart in charge of watching them.

  The other two guards disappeared into the forest, running for their very lives. This time there were no gunshots.

  “Good riddance,” Ted muttered. “I hope the jaguars get the bastards.”

  Doc ran to Alison, grabbed the machete and cut her loose. Unconscious, she collapsed to the ground. The doctor knelt beside her, his fingers on her wrist.

  “Mary! Bring me something to cover her with! Bring my med kit too!”

  His wife ran to the cave and quickly returned. The doctor covered Alison with his wife’s long skirt and began tending to the superficial cut Rolando had made down her breastbone. It was hardly more than a scratch, he noted with relief. The girl lay quietly as if asleep.

  “Honey, is she…” Mary Spence asked what the others also feared.

  “She’s in shock; she fainted from the stress. I’m going to let her rest until she wakes up.”

  Mark yelled, “Paul! Are you out there?”

  Instead of one person emerging from the twisted jungle foliage, two appeared. Paul came from one side of the camp and Gavin from another. He had two pistols jammed in his belt and held another.

  “You look like a gunslinger!” Julio said.

  Paul met Gavin in the middle of the clearing. “I knew it was you. You killed Diego – right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Good shot. Do you have a handgun at home?”

  “No, but my dad gave me plenty of target practice growing up. He taught me to be comfortable around weapons. I haven’t shot a gun in fifteen years, but I guess it’s like riding a bicycle!”

  The others rushed to hug them, thanking and praising them for their heroic efforts. Doc stayed on the ground, tending to Alison as she began to come around.

  “How come you didn’t shoot the two guards who escaped?” Mark asked.

  “They surprised me, frankly,” Paul replied. “They were so far away by the time I reacted that I couldn’t see them through the undergrowth.”

  Ted said, “Where’s Hailey? I hope she’s safe.”

  “She is. She’s hiding in a cave in the ruins at Piedras Negras. You might want to see this – I think there’s a connection with the Olmecs somehow –”

  Dick interrupted brusquely. “Hey, are you crazy? Alison and I were on this guy’s death list ten minutes ago and you all sound like we’re going to hop back on the bus as if none of this happened. I think some of us” – he swept his hand around the group – “might like to get the hell out of here and go home. Pronto. Does anybody know how to operate a shortwave radio?”

  Paul replied, “We don’t need it. I’ve got a satellite phone.”

  Suddenly Dick became aggressive. He poked his finger into Paul’s chest roughly. “You had a sat phone all along? Why in hell didn’t you call in the troops? What in God’s name were you thinking, leaving us here? We could have been killed. We were out of time and you were hanging out in the woods.” He was red-faced and furious.

  Ted stepped between them. “Dick, what’re you doing? If it weren’t for Paul, we’d all be dead. Don’t you understand that? He had to wait until the time was right.”

  “Calling in the authorities would have gotten everyone killed,” Paul explained. “I was watching almost all the time, waiting for an opportunity. I’m glad I was able to slip away at the very first, and I apologize for how long it took to set you all free.”

  Bart was guarding the rebels. He shouted, “I’m glad you snuck off too. If that hadn’t happened, we’d still be captives. I think we owe Paul a debt of gratitude. Who are you, anyway? Are you really with the CIA?”

  Paul laughed dismissively. “Yeah, right. Actually, I got a merit badge in search and rescue when I was
a Boy Scout. That and common sense, I guess.”

  He turned to Ted. “Shall I call for our limo to pick us up?”

  The leader looked at him quizzically; he explained he had one of the boat drivers’ contact information.

  Ted gathered the group. “How does this sound? Paul will call for the boats. It’ll take at least four hours to get here. Let’s eat lunch; it’ll be our last time to eat for a while. Then we can pack everything and head to the beach in an hour or so.”

  Paul cautioned them to be alert. “There are two rebels loose with pistols out there in the jungle somewhere. We have plenty of guns now, and everyone who’s comfortable using one should take either a pistol or a rifle. We also have no idea how many more people Rolando has working for him. When you get to the river, stay hidden when you hear boats coming. Make sure you know it’s the authorities and not more insurgents. I’ll go get Hailey, and we’ll be at the beach not long after you are.”

  By now Alison was sitting in the shade, Doc by her side. Mary and Gavin went to the cook shack to rustle up lunch, and everyone else returned to the cave where they’d slept the past ten nights. Paul walked the trail back to Piedras Negras carefully, watchful for the missing rebels. He figured they were getting as far from this place as possible, but one could never be sure what they’d do.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  After two days in Frontera Corozal the authorities had almost nothing. The tour bus had been scoured top to bottom. There were bloodstains all around the driver’s seat and the front platform, consistent with Mark Linebarger’s note saying there had been a murder. There were so many fingerprints they were useless. Until the hostages were back, there was no way to tell whose prints they had. Still, the Federal Police meticulously gathered them one by one. Later they’d be run through the national databases in Mexico and the USA to check for matches.