The Deadly Curse of Toco-Rey

by Frank Peretti

  “Hurry,” said Tomás. “Please hurry!”

  Lila got into it, chipping and gouging with a sharp rock. Tomás found another rock and started bashing away, driven by fear.

  The leaves and branches of the jungle raced by his face in a blur; the whole world kept tilting, first one way, then the other. Dr. Cooper felt he was running on the deck of a ship in a storm.

  Dear Lord, keep me steady. Help me get to the Kachaka village.

  The Pyramid of the Sun was right in front of him, so he must have passed through the gates of Toco-Rey, though he had no memory of it. The mind of an animal kept forcing its way into his head. He felt like a panther, running with the wind, hungry for blood, superpowered by a rage that made everything around him an enemy to be destroyed. His breath came in deep, guttural chugs. He had to force himself to think, to remember who he was and what he was doing. Though he felt amazingly strong, part of him knew he was getting very, very sick.

  He had a hunch. Sometimes he forgot what it was, but he kept running for the Kachaka village anyway, trusting God would bring the memory back.

  “You are Dr. Jacob Cooper,” he kept telling himself. “Run to the village. Run to the village.”

  He raced up the Avenue of the Dead. In his desperate struggle to hold on to his mind he didn’t notice the blood or the remains of what had been the world’s most ruthless weapons dealer. He ran right by without slowing down.

  Jay struck another blow against the wall, and this time the mortar and stones crumbled, falling into a cavity on the other side. “All right! We’re through!” He poked his flashlight into the hole and peered through. “Yeah. There’s a chamber in there.”

  “Can you see anything?” Lila asked.

  Jay swept his light back and forth, probing the darkness. “Whoa . . . oh wow . . .”

  “What is it?” Tomás demanded.

  Jay turned to them, jubilant. “It’s the treasure room! We’ve found it!”

  They bashed and chipped and pounded with even greater determination, enlarging the hole, pushing the old stones and gray mortar into the chamber beyond. As soon as the hole was big enough to squeeze through, Jay did just that, crouching down, going one leg first, then his body, then the other leg.

  He found himself in a large, square chamber with carved pillars at each corner. The ceiling was at least fifteen feet above him. A huge, stone coffin took up the center. “Okay. Come on in.”

  Lila hopped through the hole. Tomás poked his head in first, made doubly sure it was safe, and then squeezed through the hole with a little more difficulty.

  All three were astounded. The walls around them held intricately carved figures of warriors, kings, and fierce, toothy gods. The four pillars had huge faces, all looking inward toward the coffin; they probably represented Kachi-Tochetin and his family.

  The coffin in the center of the room was a huge box of limestone on a stone pedestal. It, too, was intricately carved with faces, suns, moons, gods, and plants that swirled in a continuous pattern all around its four sides. Carved into the lid was the stern face of Kachi-Tochetin, superimposed over the sun so that the sun’s rays seemed to emanate from the king himself.

  But the real eye-catcher was the treasure. All around the room, stacked up high against the walls and taking up much of the floor, was the wealth of Kachi-Tochetin. Masks of gold and turquoise, necklaces and breastplates, piles and piles of coins and beads, golden cups, plates, vases, idols.

  On a ledge around the room were more small golden images of Oltecan gods the Corys had referred to, positioned to stand guard over the treasure and the remains of the king.

  Then came a gruesome discovery: In each corner, at the base of each carved pillar, was a length of chain. And on the floor, in a dismal, helter-skelter pile, were bones. Tomás let out a gasp of fear. Jay and Lila went to take a closer look.

  “The guards the Corys talked about,” said Jay. “They must have been chained to the pillars to guard the king.”

  “Buried alive!” said Lila.

  Now Jay understood. “These must be the mukai-tochetin that the Kachaka chief talked about. They really were buried with the king!”

  Tomás picked up a golden vase. He immediately put it down in disgust when he saw the green dust it left on his hands. “Eughh!” He slapped his hands against his pantlegs, stirring up a green cloud.

  Now the kids noticed too. It was very dusty in here. A thick layer of green dust was all over everything. They’d left footprints in it. Everything they touched left a handprint—and left green dust on their hands.

  “Wow,” said Jay, slapping the top of the king’s coffin and raising another cloud of dust. “Weird stuff.”

  “The Corys talked about this dust too,” Lila remembered. “They were wiping it off the artifacts in that video—” She stopped. The smell in this place was oddly familiar. She tried to remember where she’d smelled it before. Thoughts came to her; memories. “Jay . . .”

  She looked at her brother. He’d scratched his nose and left a green smudge. Just then, Tomás sneezed and wiped his face with his hand. That only drove more dust up his nose and he sneezed again, stomping his foot and raising even more dust.

  “Jay!”

  He was wiping off an artifact with his shirt sleeve. She could see the tiny particles dancing around in the beam of his flashlight.

  “Jay, stop!”

  He stopped. “Huh? What’s the matter?” Then he made a little face, rolling his eyes and teetering slightly. “Whoa! Did we just have an earthquake?”

  The Kachaka village! Jacob Cooper burst out of the jungle and recognized the small huts of grass and sticks, the ramshackle, plank structures, the busy people. . . .

  He stumbled and fell in the grass, his head reeling. Why did I come here what for . . .

  He heard excited shouts and people approaching. Come on Coop gedup you godda meg sense to these peeble . . .

  With great strength he leaped to his feet again. “Where da chief? Lemme talk gotta get him or here!”

  The women and children took one look at him, screamed, and ran away, wailing, waving their arms, sounding an alarm.

  Fierce anger coursed through him. Whatza matter widese peeble? I’ll kill them! Kill them all! He ran after them, hands like claws, teeth bared. “Stop you iddits! Whatzamatta wi’yu?”

  He stopped. What in the world was he doing? Oh man, Lord, I’m losing it! Help me! He dropped to his knees in the grass, trying to think, trying to clear his head. Calm down. Control, control! You have to get . . . you have to get . . . what do I have to get?

  Then he heard a familiar, angry voice. “Doctor Jacob Cooper, the stupid American!”

  He looked up. It was the chief, whose angry expression turned to one of fear the moment Dr. Cooper raised his head. The chief muttered, gawked at him, started backing away.

  Dr. Cooper tried to speak clearly. “Chief Yoaxa . . .”

  Yoaxa looked at the others who cowered behind him, staring at the weird animal that had burst into their village. He started hollering an explanation to them. Dr. Cooper couldn’t understand it, but he easily heard the word mukai-tochetin used over and over again.

  Jacob Cooper struggled to his feet. “Please . . .” His voice came out like a growl. “I need . . . I need . . .”

  “Go away!” the chief hollered. “You are mukai-tochetin! I knew it all along!”

  Some warriors came running with rifles, spears, and blowguns, ready to use them all.

  That brought a new fit of rage Jacob Cooper could hardly control. “You fools! Can’t I make you understand!” he growled. He was clenching his fists, shaking them at these stupid people—

  He stopped, horrified, at the sight of his hands.

  They were lizard green.

  TEN

  Lila’s voice trembled with fear. “Jay . . . I think it’s the dust!”

  He looked at her dully. “Huh?”

  She ran over and grabbed his arm. “Listen to me! Remember what Dr. Basehart said
? He said he learned a lot from my blood samples—and from my nose! You remember that?”

  Jay had trouble remembering. “Your nose?”

  “Jay, I’ve smelled this stuff before! I smelled it coming from a shack behind Dr. Basehart’s lab, and—are you listening to me?—I smelled it on an orchid near where we found the pit. This dust was on that orchid! I snorted it right up my nose, do you understand?”

  He looked at her with impatience. “What are you trying to do, scare me?”

  She gripped his arm tighter. “You feel afraid?”

  He jerked his arm away. “NO! There’s nuddin wrong wid me!”

  “Jay! It wasn’t the slime from the carvies that made me green and crazy! It was this dust! Dr. Basehart had samples of it in his lab. He had that rag the Corys used to wipe off the artifacts! He had a sample from my nose—Jay, you should have seen it under the microscope! It was like hundreds of little spiky monsters, that’s what this dust is!”

  He looked directly at her now. She seemed to be getting through. “It’s the dust?”

  She looked at him carefully, noticing the glazed look in his eyes and the way he tottered as if drugged. “Jay, it’s happening to you! The same thing that happened to me is happening to you!”

  He got defensive. “You look okay.”

  She tried to keep from crying, but fear still brought tears to her eyes. “I got better somehow, Jay. I don’t know how it works. Maybe you only get it once, like the measles.”

  Jay tried to listen to his sister. Her words were so garbled and there was such a rushing noise in his ears. The floor still seemed to be moving. “Lila . . . Maybe we bedder ged ouda here.”

  She looked all around. “Jay, we can’t. There isn’t any way out. I mean, I can’t see it, I can’t find it.”

  “We havetuh fine it.”

  She grabbed his arm to steady him. “Jay—”

  He jerked away with a growl. “Leggo! You don’t touch me!”

  He’s losing it, she thought. He’s going to do something really crazy if I don’t— “

  Lila!”

  “What?”

  Jay stared at a corner of the room. She followed his gaze and saw a pile of bones and the black, rusty chain that had once held the doomed guard.

  “You better chain me up,” Jay said. “Chain me up before I really go nuts.”

  The thought was unbearable. “Jay . . .”

  “Do it!” he growled. “Before I can’t think straight anymore!”

  He stumbled over to the pillar and flopped against it, his breath raspy, his eyes getting wild. She grabbed the chain and looped it around his body, his arms, his legs.

  He began to struggle against her. “What are you doing?”

  “It’s okay, Jay. Don’t worry!”

  “Quit it! Let me go!” he growled at her. Then he tried to grab her. She ducked sideways, barely avoiding his flailing arms and clawlike fingers. He was dazed, disoriented. She jumped in close to finish looping and twisting the chain into a knot behind his back.

  For just a moment his mind returned. “Get out of here, sis.”

  She looked all around the room. “I don’t see the way out.”

  “FIND IT!” he screamed at her, his eyes ablaze with animal anger. He tried to lunge at her but the chain held him fast. He fell back against the pillar as the chain rattled against the stone.

  Lila hurried around the room, looking everywhere. How? How did the Corys do it? How did they get in and out? She could see their footprints in the dust all over the floor, but there were so many she couldn’t tell which direction they’d come from or where they were going. She checked in one corner, then another, then she climbed over some of the treasure to check against a wall.

  Nothing.

  She ran to the next corner. Maybe there was a movable panel, or a scrape mark on the floor showing where the exit was, or—

  TOMÁS! He suddenly leaped to his feet from behind a large chest, a golden vase in his hands. His face and hands were covered with green dust, and his eyes looked absolutely wild! She jumped backward, horrified. She’d forgotten about him in her panic about Jay.

  He leaned toward her, teetering a little, his shoulders hunched, his mouth stretched into a toothy sneer. “Come here, señorita. Come here!”

  Her eyes shot to the hole in the wall, the only way in or out of this room that she knew of.

  Unfortunately, he was standing right next to it.

  Dr. Cooper took a step forward and all the Kachakas took a step backward. His mind kept flipping back and forth, and he couldn’t stop it: Kill them. No, they’re people. Kill them. No, help them, make them understand. KILL THEM!

  “NO, DEAR GOD, NO!” he finally cried in anguish. “Help me, Lord! Help me to think—”

  The Lord answered his prayer. His mind cleared, if only for a moment. He looked at Chief Yoaxa, who had several armed warriors at his side. “Chief . . . where’s your daughter María?”

  Instantly, every rifle, blowgun, ax, and spear was aimed at him.

  He raised his hands, pleading with them. “Don’t! Don’t shoot me!” He just couldn’t keep his voice from sounding growly. “I needa ask María a question . . . jus’ one question.”

  The chief thought for less than a moment and wagged his finger at him. “Oh, no. No, you cannot fool me! María is not yours! You cannot have her!”

  ANGER. Dr. Cooper gritted his teeth and prayed. He knew he would tear Chief Yoaxa limb from limb if he didn’t control himself. He strained to say it clearly. “Just one question.”

  Now the chief took a rifle himself. “I don’t care if you are mukai-tochetin, I shoot you anyway!”

  Slowly, one difficult word at a time, Cooper asked, “Did María shoot my daughter Lila with a poison dart?”

  That got a reaction. The chief lowered his rifle and looked at his men. It seemed they knew something.

  “Chief . . .” Jacob Cooper knew the man was almost impossible to reason with, but he had to try. “Your daughter María had a blowgun when we found her. She shot . . .” His mind fluttered. He struggled to find it again. “She shot at my son and me. If she shot at us, maybe she shot at Lila.” The chief and his men looked at each other. They knew something, Dr. Cooper could see it! His next words sounded like the roar of a lion. “TELL ME!”

  “Yes!” came the answer, but not from any of the warriors. The voice came from beyond them.

  It was the voice of María. She pushed her way forward until her mother and brothers grabbed her and held her back, but she could see Dr. Cooper, and he could see her. “Dr. Cooper, yes, I shot your daughter with a dart. I thought she was going to kill me!”

  Jacob Cooper shot a glance at Chief Yoaxa, who looked a bit cornered. “She . . .”

  “WHAT?” came the lion’s voice again. “TELL ME!”

  “She did have a blowgun,” Chief Yoaxa continued. “The one you found didn’t belong to any of us. We learned it was hers.”

  With a roar so loud it startled the men and brought terrified screams from the women, Dr. Cooper charged forward, waving his arms for people to get out of his way. They got out of his way, all right. They didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

  “Wait!” the chief hollered, following after him. “Where are you going?”

  Dr. Cooper didn’t answer. He just kept running past the huts and shacks until he came to the end of the village. He rounded a corner and there was the cage full of carvies, as yellow and fierce and poisonous as ever.

  Lila backed away, her hands out in front of her. “Now . . . now Tomás, listen to me . . .”

  He just growled back at her and threw the golden vase aside with a crash and a clang. He was going to come after her, that was easy to see. She backed away some more. Her only hope was to lead him away from that hole.

  With an animal roar he leaped over the treasure and came after her, growling with every breath. She ran around the big stone coffin and he chased her, scuffing and slipping in the green dust, sending up clouds of the st
uff. She ran for the hole in the wall—at least she’d lured Tomás away from it—and dove through headfirst, tumbling and rolling out the other side into the hallway. She got to her feet and ran. It would take him a moment or two to squeeze through behind her, which would buy her some time . . . to do what?

  She ran first. She’d think of something later.

  The carvies flitted from side to side in their cage, slapping against the wire mesh, chirping, hissing, arching their backs. They were bright yellow, angry, and throwing slime every time they fluttered their fins. A whole night had passed and they hadn’t eaten a thing.

  Jacob Cooper had already made up his mind. He was going to die anyway and go stark raving mad before that. He had nothing to lose.

  He found a small empty cage about the size of a suitcase. It would work perfectly. He grabbed it, then went to the carvies’ cage and started to untwist the crinkly old wire that held it shut.

  The chief and his men came running around the corner, but stopped dead in their tracks the moment they saw what he was up to. “He is crazy for sure!” the chief exclaimed.

  “They won’t hurt him,” said Manito. “Will they?”

  “They will hurt us!” the chief reminded him.

  They scurried backward, still watching, spellbound. They’d never seen this done before.

  Dr. Cooper got the wire undone. He opened the little door on the cage he was carrying, then yanked the door of the big cage open, took a breath . . .

  And jumped inside.

  Slap! Splat! Flop! The carvies descended on him like angry hornets, sliming him, slapping against him, slithering over his back, his arms, his head. Their shrieks sounded like all the rats in the world getting stepped on, their slime burned like fire on his hands, his neck, his face, and he couldn’t help but scream and gasp from the pain. One clamped onto his ear like a sticky pancake and started biting him. He thought he would pass out. He reached up, yanked it loose—it felt like a sticky, slimy, flattened water balloon in his hand—and threw it into the small cage. It flopped and fluttered around, trying to get out. Then he grabbed another from his arm and another from his side and both went into the cage. He stayed hunched over, one hand holding the cage, the other arm around his head to protect his eyes. He needed more of these critters, many more.