“I didn’t do anything,” Zack answered. “If you hadn’t flown in when you did and if my uncle hadn’t shown up at just the right moment . . . By the way, Maria wasn’t expecting you. Why did you show up?”
Bob put a teaspoon of sugar in his coffee and stirred it slowly. “It was just pure chance. We were packed up and ready to leave the site. The guy who owns the plane got sick and had to be taken to the hospital. I offered to bring the plane back for him. I sent Clifton a message, but told him to keep it a secret so I could surprise Maria.”
Clifton took over, “When you and Maria didn’t show up last night I contacted the park police and got together a search party. We were going to the runway to meet the plane. We had no idea that you’d be there.”
Zack shook his head slowly.
“Think we could find the lost temple?” Maria asked him. “I bet together we could do it.”
“Wait a minute,” Clifton said, a serious look crossing his face. “This man, Raymond Morales, is still on the loose. Until he’s caught you both are to stay here. That means no exploring until he’s taken care of. I mean it Zack, I don’t want you mixed up in this from here on in.”
Zack nodded, but made no promises. He still had a debt of honor to repay and he’d already figured out his mistake.
###
Zack slept the afternoon away. At supper no one treated him like a pariah, although Kyle was still distant and aloof. During the evening, he and Maria hung out with Josh and Linda in the main house while Bruce, Sam, and Kyle splashed around in the pool.
He hadn’t exactly lied to Maria. He really didn’t know where the cave was, but he was confident that under the cover of darkness he’d be able to find it. When it was close to midnight he once again left for the ruins.
It was a moonless night, but his vision was better than it ever had been before. He never once tripped, stumbled, or slipped. He took the same path that Chajul had led them down, reached the massive ceibal tree with its great protruding roots, and pushed on through the scratchy brush. He went north, then east, and then cut north again until he reached a narrow dirt road.
Now, he could smell the fumes the truck had left the night before and he could smell the bats. He followed the road right up to the mouth of the small cavern where Dusty and Raymond had stored the boxes of artifacts and treasure.
His backpack was still by the viper’s pit. He grabbed it and departed.
The narrow road intersected with the Maler Causeway where he turned south. He passed through the East Plaza, around the back and side of the Temple of the Giant Jaguar and entered the Great Plaza.
In front of him stood the North Terrace Stairway and the huge platform that held the temples of the Northern Acropolis.
He jogged across the grass and up the limestone steps to the top of the massive platform, then turned and climbed the steps of the Temple of Sacrifices.
He paused at the summit, and turned to gaze out over the Great Plaza. There was no sign of the jaguar and for a brief moment Zack was afraid that he might be wrong. Then he saw the big cat standing on the platform of the Temple of the Masks.
Zack descended the narrow steps of the temple. Even in the dark, the painting of the poor guy getting his head chopped off was clearly visible.
He made his way through the tunnels and rooms, until he reached the small cell he’d been in on his very first day in Tikal. It was empty. He knew it would be. He sat down on the floor, fingered his jaguar pendant, and waited.
He heard the chimán’s shuffling gait before he saw him. Chajul entered, walking stiffly, limping with his right leg. He didn’t smile, but simply placed a woven mat in front of Zack and gestured that he was to sit on it. Then Chajual went to the same corner of the room where Zack had seen the remains of dried flower petals and candle wax. He laid down a mat for himself and sat on it cross-legged, facing the northwest wall. Chajul took six white candles made of bee’s wax out of his pockets, placed them on his altar and lit them. The four candles in the corners represented the four directions, one candle represented the earth, and one candle was for man. The chimán then took out some copal incense and lit it. The light of the candles grew smoky. He turned his back, blocking Zack’s view as he continued his rituals.
Zack didn’t try to see, it was enough that he was allowed to be here.
Finally, Chajul picked up his mat and rearranged it across from Zack. He sat on it again and began chanting.
Zack didn’t understand the ancient language, but he didn’t have to. Chajul was praying to the ancestors and evoking the names of the animals. He was saying the names of the earth, the gods of the earth, and the gods of water. When Chajul finished Zack removed the box from his backpack, took out the codex, and placed it on the floor in front of the chimán.
Chajul nodded. “Mazak Balam,” he said, and Zack was dismissed.
Zack left him there, the brown wrinkled old man dressed in plain khaki slacks and a simple white shirt, and Zack knew he’d been in the presence of a great man. Zack also knew he would never see him again.
###
Zack stood at the temple’s summit and breathed in the moist pungent air. Above him, the bright constellations told the story of the birth of creation. For the first time in ages, he felt tranquil and serene. In a word, he felt proud.
A figure burst from around the corner of the Temple of the Masks and Zack recognized Raymond’s form. Zack’s body filled with a tingling he couldn’t explain. Suddenly he was assaulted by scents and sounds he’d never experienced before. Intruding on the jungle noises was the sound of Raymond’s labored breathing as the murderer fled across the plaza in long, lengthy strides.
Zack stood still. There was no hurry.
Raymond disappeared from view around the side of the Temple of the Giant Jaguar. Zack padded down the temple staircase, jogged across the limestone platform and silently descended the forty-foot stairway of the Northern Acropolis.
His muscles flexed with dexterity and flowed with rhythmic motion as he silently loped across the Great Plaza and around the Temple of the Giant Jaguar. He could smell the residual scents left by the tourists and feel the vibrations and waves of magnetism that the earth emitted.
Surprisingly, the moonless night wasn’t black at all, but a rich velvety blue. He walked by the ball court. A rat sensed his presence and froze. Zack ignored it.
Even though Raymond was out of view, he was easy to follow. Zack could hear his heavy breathing and the man’s scent drifted up from every place he stepped.
Silently, softly, Zack pursued his foe. He padded over the broken limestone of the Maler Causeway his gait slow but steady.
He paused to taste the night air. It held a million flavors. Each wet leaf gave off a different odor. So did the damp earth and the multitude of creatures that lived on and in it. He could hear the rustling of small animals, the scuttling of insects, and whisper of bat wings. To his right a small family of peccaries shivered nervously in a clump of trees.
The pounding of feet on the causeway stopped. Then Zack saw a flashlight beam. Branches snapped as Raymond foolishly left the causeway and veered off on a jungle trail. The murderer was winded now and gasping for breath. Zack lengthened his stride, his muscles loose and relaxed. And, he began closing the gap.
It wasn’t long before Raymond was in view. Above Zack a bird twittered fearfully and a monkey whimpered. Raymond stopped and turned around, the flashlight beam scouring the bushes. Zack halted out of range of the light. After a few seconds, Raymond moved forward again, at a quicker pace. Zack moved forward, too.
The trail led to a plaza surrounded by long, lengthy palaces. Raymond hesitated at the doorway of one of the building and shined his light around the courtyard.
“Who’s out there?” he called. “I know someone’s there.”
Zack stepped into the beam of light.
Raymond backed up a couple of steps, turned, and ran into the building.
The smell of fear was overpowering now.
/> Zack slowly entered the palace, following Raymond from room to room. They came to the rear of the building and Raymond let out a despairing sob. He had stopped in front of the long interior passage that would take him out into the rear courtyard. But, to enter this passageway, he had to pass through the mouth of a huge monstrous mask. He pulled out his knife and turned and faced Zack.
“Leave me alone!” Raymond yelled. “I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t leave me alone!”
Zack stopped and turned his head. In the distance he could hear voices of men shouting in Spanish. The smuggler spun around and sprinted through the mouth of the mask and across the rear plaza. He climbed the steps of a small temple and stumbled down the other side.
Zack bounded after him.
Raymond fled into the jungle. He ran frantically, falling often, muttering incoherently as he got back on his feet and stumbled forward again. They left the jungle and reached the dirt road.
Zack stayed within sight. He knew the destination of the smuggler now. It was the small cave where the artifacts had been hidden.
They reached the cave and Raymond disappeared inside. Zack followed him in. He could smell the cold steel blade of the knife. Zack took one step towards him and then another.
Raymond backed away. “All right you frigging monster. Come on. See if you can take me.”
“It’s payback time,” Zack growled. The park police were closer, their voices clear and distinct in the night air.
Raymond continued his retreat and backed into the tunnel. Zack shifted his weight, ready to pounce. Light spilled inside the small cave from the policemen’s powerful flashlights and abruptly Zack’s acute senses faded. He drew himself up to his full height. Raymond’s mouth opened in horror, his eyes filled with fear. He whirled around and ran.
The police swarmed into the cave shouting orders and commands. They shoved past Zack, just in time to see Raymond plunge over the side of the pit – and into the nest of vipers.
Chapter Twenty-five
It was Zack’s last night in Tikal. He and Maria sat at the top of the world, under the roofcomb of the Temple of the Masks. Maria’s head rested on his shoulder and his arm was around her waist. Below them in the Great Plaza fireflies danced, and from the depths of the jungle the howler monkeys continued their nightly roars. The monkeys didn’t sound so ominous now, not like they had the first night Zack had heard them.
Zack had told Maria about his meeting with the chimán, about how he’d given him the codex.
“He only spoke to me once,” Zack said. “The chimán said ‘Mazak Balam.’ Do you know what that means?”
“Mazak Balam,” Maria repeated. “It’s a name. It means Great White Jaguar. Not white as in race, white as in purity of values and ethics.”
Zack touched the jade pendant hanging around his neck. Great White Jaguar.
“Time passes so quickly,” Maria mused.
Yeah, Zack thought. Tomorrow he, Clifton and Kyle would fly to Guatemala City. From there, Clifton would fly to Florida while he and Kyle would return home to California.
He and his uncle had had a long talk. Zack had explained why he’d taken the Mercedes, why he hadn’t wanted to tell about the murdered Canadian, and even what had really happened that night when he was with Samantha. To Zack’s surprise, his uncle believed him and understood how and why Zack had acted the way he did. Clifton didn’t condone Zack’s actions, but he did say that he had formed his opinions based on assumptions, and his assumptions had been wrong.
It was the closest thing to an apology that his uncle could give him and Zack was satisfied.
Since Morales was dead, the statement Zack made to the Guatemalan police had been adequate.
“Yeah,” Zack said, agreeing with Maria. “Time passes quickly, especially when you’re having fun.”
“I’m serious, Zack. Tomorrow you’re leaving, going back to California. It’s so far from Louisiana.”
“I know,” he said kissing her lightly.
She looked into his eyes. “I’m really going to miss you.”
“Me, too” Zack sighed. “But, we can stay in touch with email. And, there’s always the next season. But, let’s don’t talk about it right now. Let’s don’t spoil what we have right this minute.” Gently he kissed her again. Her lips were full and soft, her hair fragrant with the scent of flowers. They held each other, watching the fireflies dance, and allowing the previous events to fade into insignificance.
Chapter Twenty-six
The first letter Zack received when he returned home wasn’t from Maria as he had expected, but was postmarked Tokyo. He held it in his hand, looking at the return address. No one he knew lived in Japan. He slit the envelope open and removed a piece of stationary and a photograph. The note was from the Japanese tourist whose picture he had taken. In perfect script the tourist had written, “Thank you for your courtesy in taking our photographs while we were in Tikal.”
Zack laid the note down and looked at the picture of himself as he stood in front of Temple of the Giant Jaguar.
The house was quiet and still as memories of Tikal flooded over him. If he tried hard enough he could feel the damp humid air and smell the pungent flowers.
His father and Kyle were out shopping for a nice used car. His mom had completely moved into her new townhouse and was living her own life. As Zack had once predicted, feelings between himself and his family were either non-existent, or else strained.
He had learned of a navigation school on the east coast and he was thinking of applying there after he had finished high school. Meanwhile, he was going to try and find his natural parents. Maybe there was a shipwrecked man in his past who had been captured by Mayan king. Anyway, if he could locate his natural parents, they might be able to tell him something of his heritage.
Dr. Collins’ assistant, Michael, had been arrested here in the states. He had tried to bargain for a lighter sentence by claiming he knew where a fifth Mayan codex could be located. Of course, it was never found and no one believed him.
Zack thought about the Mayan chimán, wondering what secrets were in the codex and if the holy book would ever be shared with the rest of the world. How ironic that a kid from another country and totally different culture, a kid who had hated studying history, would be the one to end up restoring a piece of history to a disadvantaged people.
Zack looked closely at the photograph he held in his hand. Barely discernible in the green and black shadows stood a figure from which both nightmares and fantasies were made. Staring out of the jungle brush, like a guardian angel with large, golden eyes, was Chajul’s nahual – the great jaguar and the Ninth Lord of the Night.
The End
Diana L. Driver was born in Cheyenne, WY, but now lives in Houston with her husband and two cats. She enjoys writing all genres of fiction, including mystery, romance, fantasy, and young adult. Visit her on the web at www.dianadriver.com or email her at [email protected]
Other works by Diana L. Driver include:
Nonfiction
The Maya, People of the Maize
Fiction - novels
Ninth Lord of the Night
Fiction – short stories
The End of the Tour (mystery)
Die Mahnung – The Warning (mystery) included in A Death in Texas anthology
Valentine’s Day (romance) included in A Box of Texas Chocolates anthology
Screenplays
Ninth Lord of the Night original screenplay
Ninth Lord of the Night Page 22
