The Deadly Curse of Toco-Rey

by Frank Peretti

  “I think so,” said Dr. Cooper. “I just did a little patrolling around the camp without encountering anyone on watch—no sentry, no safeguards at all. If I could do it, then a whole tribe of Kachakas could sneak into this camp and never be noticed. Either Basehart and his men are too dense to get a clue from what happened to the Corys, or . . .”

  “Or what?” asked Jay, coming up front to join them.

  Jacob Cooper thought a moment, but then he shook his head. “I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense.” He turned from the window to face his kids. “But we have to get some sleep. Let’s take turns keeping watch. I’ll take the first shift for two hours.”

  “I’ll take the next,” said Jay.

  “Then me,” Lila said with a shrug.

  “I’ll leave my gun by the door. Each of you keep it beside you on your watch.”

  And that’s how they spent the rest of the night.

  The morning air was warm, wet, and full of earthy smells when the Coopers emerged from their trailer. Armond Basehart was already up and active, barking orders to his three men. Tomás and his two friends, Juan and Carlos, appeared moody and somber. They kept their eyes on the jungle as they gathered equipment and crammed provisions and tools into large backpacks.

  “Well, good morning,” Dr. Basehart greeted them. “Did you sleep well?”

  Dr. Cooper couldn’t help noticing his host’s well-rested, almost chipper demeanor. “Well enough. How about yourself?”

  “Just fine, thank you. Well, grab some breakfast and get yourselves ready. The day wears on!”

  Jacob Cooper, Jay, and Lila had their backpacks ready. They ate a quick breakfast of fruit juice and granola and then geared up.

  Dr. Cooper slipped into his “map vest,” which had many deep pockets where he could carry maps and charts close at hand. He neatly tucked the Corys’ maps and photocopies of the original de Carlon maps into the pockets, strapped on his revolver and backpack, put on his hat, and was ready to go.

  They headed out, Dr. Cooper leading, making their way back along the trail that led to the Corys’ campsite. Jay and Lila followed directly behind their father; Dr. Basehart and his three workers followed behind them. As the jungle closed in around them, the mood of the group darkened, and there was little talking. Even Armond Basehart’s hurried, commanding manner had fallen away and he, like the others, stole along the trail quietly, eyes wide open and attentive. Tomás’s face clearly indicated what was on his mind: Kachakas. Magic. The curse. His two friends, Juan and Carlos, each carried rifles and pointed them every direction they looked as if expecting an enemy behind every tree.

  They pressed on through the thick growth like fleas on a dog’s back, stepping over, ducking under, and sidestepping the branches and leaves that brushed and raked against them. The sounds of birds and insects made a constant rattle in their ears.

  When they reached the camp, they found it further deteriorated, torn, and scattered by another night’s visitations of scavenging animals. Tomás, Juan, and Carlos began muttering to each other in Spanish, and Dr. Basehart had to shush them.

  Dr. Cooper pulled out Ben Cory’s map sketched in pencil, then carefully walked around the camp perimeter until he found the crude trail the Corys had hacked through the jungle. Without a word, he beckoned to the others, and they continued, the jungle closing around them more than ever.

  They hiked and crept for another half-mile or so, and then they began to climb a shallow rise. Dr. Cooper consulted his map. So far, everything checked out. Another half-mile should bring them to—

  They froze in their tracks. Tomás aimed his rifle up the rise, the barrel quivering in his trembling hand. Dr. Cooper’s hand went to the .357 on his hip.

  Somewhere out there, deep within the tangle of jungle, something was screaming. It was not the cry of a bird or the howl of a wild dog, but something far more eerie and strange. It rose in pitch, then fell, then rose again, in long, anguished notes of terror, or maniacal rage, or pain . . . they couldn’t tell.

  It faded, and then it was gone. They stood silently for a long, tense moment, listening. But they heard nothing more.

  Dr. Cooper looked to Dr. Basehart for an explanation.

  Armond Basehart gave him a blank stare, then he turned to his men. “What was that?” he hissed.

  They looked at each other, jabbering in Spanish, then shrugged at him, shaking their heads. “We do not know, señor,” said Tomás. “We have never heard that sound before.”

  Jay and Lila could feel their hearts pounding and took some deep breaths to steady themselves. They watched their father, who remained still, listening, thinking.

  Dr. Cooper looked back at his children, then at the rest of the party. “We’re going to stay close together, right?”

  They all nodded in full agreement. No problem there.

  Dr. Cooper turned and continued up the trail without a word. The others followed, climbing the rise, all the more attentive to every sound, every movement around them.

  A tree limb moved! Juan swung his rifle around as everyone froze.

  A green tree snake, slithering down the limb in a slow, lazy spiral, flicked its long, red tongue at the air. Juan relaxed and exhaled.

  The sound of rushing water reached their ears. Jacob Cooper checked his map. “This should be the waterfall.”

  The waterfall was like a silken veil, dropping about ten feet into a deep pool edged with moss.

  “Beautiful!” Lila exclaimed.

  “Let’s go swimming,” Jay wished out loud.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Dr. Basehart urged. “We can’t hear if something’s sneaking up on us!”

  They kept climbing and reached the top of the rise. Like a moat to block their path, swampy land lay before them, stinking with rot, buzzing with black insects. It rippled with the twitches of larvae and the slithering of water snakes. Dry ground was scarce; the crooked, moss-laden trees and clumps of spear grass rose out of the black water as if growing from a mirror.

  Dr. Cooper pulled another map from his vest pocket and snapped it open. “We’re close. This swamp was probably used as a moat at one time. The city gates are just on the other side.” He looked around, searching for something. “The Corys found a way across and are supposed to have marked it.”

  Jay pointed. “Dad, I think I see a red ribbon over there.”

  He saw a ribbon tied around a crooked tree branch, and beyond that, another. “Watch your step, everybody.”

  The ground was soft and spongy beneath their feet. Sometimes they had to walk ankle-deep in the murky water as they moved carefully from a tiny mound of spear grass to a flat stone to a fallen log to a gooshy, muddy island. They zigzagged across the swamp from each red ribbon to the next.

  Another scream, this time closer! Lila flinched, pulling her hands near her face. Tomás spun left, then right, rifle ready, eyes wide with fear.

  From within a tall clump of spear grass, a jawless, mossy-green skull stared back at Tomás and he screamed.

  Then Juan screamed.

  Then Carlos screamed.

  “Quiet, you fools!” Dr. Basehart shouted, looking pretty shaken himself.

  Dr. Cooper doubled back to have a look and used his machete to brush the spear grass aside. This skull was not alone. Beyond it, in a long, straight row, were several others, all impaled on the ends of poles, and all green with moss. They’d been here a long while.

  “Kachaka magic!” Tomás hissed, his voice squeaking with fear.

  “What do you make of it, Dr. Cooper?” Dr. Basehart asked.

  “Yes, probably Kachakas,” Jacob Cooper replied. “This sort of thing is used as a charm to ward off unwelcome spirits—or people. It’s a warning, a scare tactic.” He shot a glance at the three terrified workers. “Works pretty well.”

  “Dad,” Lila called. “I think I see the ruins.”

  He hurried to the front of the line again and bent to peer through the jungle growth. Lila was right. Some distance away, a
fierce-looking, toothy face of stone, splotchy with moss and lichens, glared back at them through the trees. Just a few more careful moves between red ribbons should get them there.

  No one wanted to remain in the swamp with the skulls, so they made those few careful moves quickly. They stood before the imposing gateposts of Toco-Rey: two basalt pillars carved in the shape of warriors with feathered headdresses, standing at least twenty feet tall. Judging from their snarling expressions, the warriors weren’t designed to make visitors feel welcome.

  Tomás, Juan, and Carlos got the message. They were ready to turn back right then and there.

  Jacob Cooper, however, was fascinated. “Notice the position of the arms. Undoubtedly these pillars used to support a massive wooden gate between them; the warriors’ arms served as the top hinges.” He referred to his map and then pointed. “And that huge hill you see just beyond the gate is no hill at all, but a man-made pyramid overgrown by the jungle: the Pyramid of the Moon.”

  Jay and Lila could only stare in amazement. The Pyramid of the Moon rose at least a hundred feet above the jungle floor. Stair-stepped like a huge wedding cake, its chalky, limestone surface was visible only through small gaps in the overgrowth.

  “See that small, square temple at the very top?” Dr. Cooper asked, pointing. “The Egyptians built their pyramids to serve as tombs, but the Middle Americans usually built them as gigantic bases for their temples, so they could be closer to their gods.”

  They proceeded through the gates, walking on soil, moss, and vegetation. Sometimes they could see the flat paving stones that had once formed the main street through Toco-Rey. Jacob Cooper kept an eye on his map as he guided them along. “We go around the Pyramid of the Moon and walk due north up the Avenue of the Dead . . .”

  “The Avenue of the Dead!” Tomás exclaimed.

  Dr. Cooper tried to comfort him. “José de Carlon named it that, probably because it was the main thoroughfare to the Pyramid of the Sun where they practiced human sacrifice.”

  “Then the spirits of the dead are here!” Tomás muttered.

  “There are no inhabitants here, dead or otherwise!” Dr. Basehart snapped. “Now I’ll thank you to control yourselves and do your jobs!”

  They circled around the Pyramid of the Moon and found the Avenue of the Dead. A flat, vine-covered expanse, it stretched straight north, about half a mile long and a hundred feet wide. Crumbling stone structures lined either side of it. Some of the buildings were tall enough to be seen above the bushes and trees; some were covered over completely so that they resembled green hedges rather than buildings. At the far end of the avenue stood another man-made mountain, a stair-stepped pyramid with another squarish temple at its peak. This one was even larger and more glorious than the Pyramid of the Moon.

  “That would be the Pyramid of the Sun,” said Dr. Cooper, “the religious focal point of the city.”

  As they walked slowly down the Avenue of the Dead, Jay and Lila imagined this street as it might have been over a thousand years ago: filled with bronze-skinned people in brightly feathered garments and jangling gold jewelry, bartering, selling, and herding among the pyramids, temples, and dwellings. They could hear the hum of the marketplace where grains and goods were sold on the stone porches and patios. They could feel the jostling, the pressing of the crowds gathering to gaze up the steep sides of the Pyramid of the Sun at another human sacrifice. These were a beautiful but ruthless people, enslaved by fear, but proud. Now they were gone forever, lost in centuries of time. Were they conquered, or did their culture simply wither away? No one knew.

  They reached the base of the Pyramid of the Sun, and Dr. Cooper paused to double-check his maps and notes. “The Pyramid of the Sun stands at the center of the city and could have served as a nice decoy to lure would-be treasure hunters to the wrong place. The real location of the treasure is due east of the pyramid, toward the rising sun . . .” Dr. Cooper looked east and then pointed at one more pyramid, this one rather plain looking, heavily cloaked in green growth, and much smaller than the first two. “That pyramid over there. That’s the burial temple of Kachi-Tochetin.”

  Armond Basehart clapped and rubbed his hands together. “Excellent!”

  They walked east, following the narrow trail the Corys had hacked through the thick undergrowth. Already, the jungle had begun to move in again, and the new growth brushed against their bodies.

  When they finally came to within a hundred feet of the burial temple, Jacob Cooper stopped to carefully scan the area, look at the latest Cory map, and shake his head. “Well, the first part was easy. Now is where the work begins.”

  It was obvious that the Corys had done a lot of exploring. A maze of trails and small clearings had been cut in all directions. But that was the problem.

  “Which way do we go?” Jay wondered.

  Dr. Cooper folded the map and put it in his pocket. “The map doesn’t show a thing. Apparently the Corys never got a chance to write down where they found that tunnel.”

  Lila caught a glint of white among the greenery. “Hey look, more orchids!”

  The orchids nodded in full, healthy clusters along a crumbling wall.

  “Well, at least that’s a confirmation that we’re in the right place,” said Dr. Cooper. “The Corys had some of those orchids back at their camp.”

  Lila found the trail the Corys had cut through to the orchids and couldn’t resist giving them a sniff to see if they had a scent.

  Dr. Cooper began giving out instructions. “Okay, everybody, we’re going to split into two groups and work our way around the temple until we meet on the other side. Stay within earshot and keep track of each other in case there’s trouble. We need to go everywhere the Corys may have been to find that tunnel into the pyramid. Lila, let’s go!”

  She hurried back to join them, and then the searching began. Tomás, Juan, and Carlos worked their way to the left; Dr. Basehart and the Coopers ventured off to the right, spreading out, groping, poking, and whacking their way through the undergrowth, sometimes on previously cut trails, sometimes not.

  Jay was wielding a machete, widening a channel through growth higher than his head. “Man, you’d think the Corys would have left some markers or something.”

  Lila was about twenty feet to his right, following a well-chopped, well-traveled path through growth as thick as mattress stuffing and well over her head. “This trail might lead somewhere. It looks like they used it quite a bit. Jay, where are you?”

  “I’m over here,” he replied, although he wasn’t entirely sure where “over here” was.

  “Well, can you see the pyramid?”

  Jay looked up in several directions, but all he could see were leaves, branches, and vine tendrils. “Dad?”

  “Yeah,” came Dr. Cooper’s voice somewhere ahead of him.

  “I think we’re lost.”

  “I can see the pyramid immediately to my left, which would be to your left,” his father replied. “I think you’re still on course.”

  “And I’m a bit behind you,” came Dr. Basehart’s voice. “Let’s just keep talking so we can keep tabs on each other.”

  Jay called, “You hear that, Lila?” No answer. “Lila?”

  Lila had come to a wide clearing filled with chopped and fallen brush. She was probing through the debris with her machete. “Jay, I think I may have found something.”

  Jay stopped whacking. “What?”

  Lila used her machete to brush some withering branches aside. Underneath she found a section of low, stone wall. “It’s a little wall, kind of like you’d see around a well—you know, it’s circular.”

  Dr. Cooper’s voice filtered over the tops of the weeds. “It could be a well. How wide is the circle?”

  She began to cut away more growth, gradually uncovering the curve of the wall as it formed a circle about ten feet across. “It’s . . . uh, about ten feet across, I think . . .”

  But one thing bothered her about this circle: She was standing inside it.
“Jay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I think it might be a well. I can feel cold air coming up from below.”

  Jay heard a cracking sound, then a rustle of leaves and branches—and then a long, echoing scream.

  “LILA!”

  Dead limbs had broken, supporting sticks had snapped, and the thick, centuries-old mat of vegetation had given way under her feet. She was falling into a deep, cold place without light, sliding and bouncing over the slimy stone walls as she tried to grab something, anything.

  GOOSH! She slid feet first into something soft, slick, gooey. The well must have a muddy bottom, she thought.

  SHRIEKS! FLUTTERING! The stagnant air came alive with a rushing, flittering, flapping, slapping, squeaking.

  She screamed and covered her head as countless little shadows swirled around her, slick and slimy, slapping against her, against each other, against the walls.

  She looked up just once and saw the opening she’d fallen through as a circle of daylight alive with hundreds of fluttering, flitting, disk-shaped shadows.

  Carvies! The pit was full of them.

  FOUR

  DAD!” Jay hollered.

  But Dr. Cooper had heard his daughter’s screams and was already on the way, crashing and thrashing in a straight line through the jungle.

  Lila covered her head with her arms as the riled creatures continued to flurry about her, flapping, shrieking, flinging slime from their wingtips. She could feel the slime spattering her everywhere; it was in her hair, on her face, dripping down the back of her neck. “HELP ME!”

  Jay reached the well but threw himself to the ground as two frightened, screaming carvies flew out of the pit and over his head. He scurried along the ground and peered over the wall into a black void. “Lila!”

  She was screaming for help, her words lost in echoes.

  “Dad! This way!” Jay yelled.

  Dr. Cooper finally burst into the open. He looked into the pit only a moment before throwing off his backpack and pulling a rope from a side compartment. “Lila! Stay calm! I’m lowering a rope!”