by David Meyer
Perhaps he was supposed to do something about it.
Chapter 6
A prickly feeling shot down my spine. "This is a bad idea."
"I don't care," Miranda replied. "This is my dig and I want to see it."
I finished securing another buttress inside the tunnel. The vibrations had ceased and for the first time, success seemed within our grasp. "We still need to find a permanent solution for the water trap. The buttresses require additional support. And we haven't even started on—"
"I don't care. I want to see it now."
Exhaling loudly, I put down my tools and led her into the chamber. The space was fairly large, measuring about forty feet long and thirty feet at its widest point. I estimated the ceiling was about ten feet off the floor.
The shaft and tunnel had featured right angles and smooth arcs. But the chamber was designed in a more haphazard fashion. Its walls sloped outward unevenly, giving it the shape of a roughly hewn bowl.
Besides the sarcophagus, the only other object of interest was a large stone statue. It sported a grotesque face and stood quietly in the northeast corner. I did everything in my power to avoid looking at it.
Overall, the chamber was beautiful in its own way. Yet it lacked the glory and majestic stonework of even the most common Maya ruins.
"It's not exactly the Temple of the Inscriptions." Miranda's sour words couldn't cover up her excitement. "But it's definitely unique."
"There's something you need to know." I nodded at the sarcophagus. "About that."
Miranda removed a digital camera from her shoulder bag. She quickly snapped a couple dozen pictures of the chamber. "What about it?"
"I think it's been breached."
She swiveled toward me.
"It wasn't us," I said. "But it was definitely deliberate. The visible end is covered with chisel marks. I can't tell if they cut clear through the stone. But it's certainly possible."
She moistened her lips.
"That's not all. I found a broken knife while I was cleaning the tunnel. It's pretty old, but not old enough to be left here by the builders." I paused to let the words sink in. "Based on the rust, I'd say it's been here for a few decades rather than centuries."
"I see."
Her matter-of-fact tone caught me off guard. I felt a twinge of resentment as I realized she'd been withholding information from me.
As lead archaeologist, Miranda knew everything about the dig. She knew about its occupant, the treasure hunter, and a whole bunch of other things. In contrast, I only had access to a small piece of the excavation. In all likelihood, I'd leave the tomb with unanswered questions.
And I hated unanswered questions.
"The initials W.H. are engraved on the blade," I said. "Unless I miss my guess, he—or she—must've found this tomb years ago. That's why there are no artifacts in here, save for the statue and sarcophagus. Those things were too heavy to carry. Also, I checked the water trap. The shaft leading to the river looks to be of fairly recent construction. W.H. probably built it."
She nodded slowly. "That makes sense."
"Doesn't it strike you as odd?"
"How so?"
"If he'd already cleared out the tomb, why would he go through the trouble of setting up a trap?"
"I don't know." Miranda lowered her camera. A frown appeared on her face. "What is that … that thing?"
I followed her gaze. The sarcophagus was wedged into the wall. Graham knelt underneath it, next to a strange-looking vehicle. A single set of articulated metal arms stuck out of the contraption. They buzzed and trembled with electricity.
"It's not a thing. It's a she. I mean she's a she." Graham gave Miranda a faint grin. "Her name is Eve."
"Eve?"
"Dutch likes to name his gear after old flames," I explained. "Eve's basically a small forklift with plenty of modifications. But there's no need to worry. Most likely, we won't need her."
"Why would you need her?"
"To save the sarcophagus," Graham explained. "If this place starts to collapse, Eve will carry it out of here."
"Impossible. There's no way your little toy could support it. That coffin weighs at least a ton."
"Roughly three tons, actually. Two for the bottom half, one for the lid." He smiled proudly. "She may not look like much, but Eve can handle twice that amount, if not more."
Miranda studied the sarcophagus. "It's stuck fast between those rocks. You'd need a truck to haul it out of there."
"It's easier than you think. The bottom is textured, slanted. We can jack it up a few inches, slide Eve's arms in, and yank it out."
"That's insane. You'd destroy the inscriptions, not to mention the context."
"Don't worry," I said. "We've done this sort of thing before. We use lots of padding to minimize the damage. Anyway it's just a last resort."
"I want both of you out of here." She clenched her fists. "Now."
"Hang on—"
"This could be the most significant discovery in centuries. I'm not going to let a couple of shovelbums ruin it."
My brow tightened. If there was one name I hated more than grave robber, it was shovelbum. "If there's a cave-in, all bets are off. The sheer force could break the lid. If it hasn't already been breached, the interior will be exposed to the elements and insects. We just want to make sure that doesn't happen."
"It won't." She stormed over to Eve. "How do I move this thing?"
Graham's jaw dropped. "What the hell are you—?"
Her fingers mashed the buttons on the control panel. Eve jolted. Her arms slashed out, jabbing into the thin space beneath the sarcophagus. Stone crunched. Metal squealed. Graham shoved Miranda out of the way and tried to undo the damage.
The ground rumbled. The chamber vibrated. I turned slowly to the north. Dirt and tiny pebbles fell to the ground. The stone blocks shifted.
I heard a deafening crash. Several other crashes followed. Smoke curled into the chamber, blinding and choking me at the same time. Coughing loudly, I peered through the haze.
The north wall, which had stood for hundreds of years, vanished before my eyes, leaving behind a large pile of rubble. Too late, I realized the sarcophagus wasn't just an artifact.
It was also a keystone.
Chapter 7
"It's a trap," I shouted. "This whole place is coming down."
The ceiling roared in anger. Dust blanketed the chamber. Pebbles and stones pelted us from above.
I slipped. My knees and palms smashed against the ground. My blood seeped onto the rocks.
The chamber churned. Larger stones started to fall. The dust thickened.
I scrambled forward. The chamber shook even harder. More stones fell.
I grabbed hold of Eve. Caught my balance. The tremors increased. My head felt like someone had stuck it into a blender.
I looked around. Miranda lay nearby, sprawled on the ground. A stunned expression engulfed her face. "I need your help," I said.
She gave me a dull look. "I didn't mean—"
"It was an accident."
She swallowed hard. "What do you need?"
"Go top side. Get that tractor of yours over here and lower the digging bucket. Oh, and tell Beverly to send down the pads and cables we used to secure Eve."
"But—"
"Now."
As she scurried into the tunnel, Graham limped toward me on his good leg. I caught him and propped him against Eve. "You need to go."
"What about you?"
"I'll be right behind you."
"You stay, I stay."
I exhaled. "We've got five minutes, tops. Can you get this thing out of here?"
"I guess we'll find out." He nodded at the statue. "What about that?"
"Forget it."
He grabbed Eve's controls. She burst to life, buzzing and emitting sparks. I bent over and cleared a path across the floor, sweeping away rocks and mounds of dirt in the process.
I glanced over my shoulder. The massive stone sarcophagus
now rested snugly in Eve's articulated arms. Shifting the controls, Graham directed her toward the tunnel.
More rubble fell. A light fixture toppled over. It exploded and darkness engulfed the southeastern end of the chamber.
I ran to the shaft. "Beverly?"
"Stand back," she shouted.
I heard whooshing noises. Then a couple of protective pads and steel cables crashed to the ground at my feet. I scooped them up and raced back to the chamber, skidding and sliding the entire way.
I flung the pads on top of the sarcophagus. Quickly, I adjusted them and secured everything with the cables.
Eve picked up speed. The stone floor quaked. More dust filled the air and my lungs. A coughing fit seized me and I was forced to halt.
Stones shrieked overhead. A giant slab crashed in front of me. I stumbled backward. Another slab smashed at my side. I chanced a look at the ceiling. The ancient chamber was moments away from a total collapse.
Looking ahead, I saw Graham direct Eve into the tunnel. I ran after him, hurling myself across the chamber. Stones poured from the ceiling like hail, crashing on all sides of me.
I leapt on top of a large block and slid across it. As I landed on the other side, I noticed the tunnel entrance start to crumble.
I sprinted toward it. Large blocks slipped loose and hurtled to the ground.
I dove. Loud crashes deafened me. Dust clogged my nose and mouth. I felt a tremendous, painful jolt.
And then all was still.
Chapter 8
I breathed. A single thought ran through my brain.
I'm alive.
I lifted my head off the ground. My clothing was torn. Warm blood and abrasions covered my limbs.
A thick veil of dust particles hung in the air. The chamber, or what was left of it, was now completely sealed behind several tons of rock and dirt.
The rubble exhaled, shooting more dust into the tunnel. Small pebbles skittered down broken chunks of stone.
I listened hard. The sounds of crashing rock had all but ceased. The ground was still. My rapid breathing began to slow.
Maybe it's over.
The tunnel quaked. Dust flew into my face. Quickly, I pushed myself to my feet.
Or maybe not.
"Damn it." Graham's voice reverberated in the tunnel. "When's this going to end?"
I limped past him and Eve. My left knee stung each time my foot hit the ground. "I don't think it is. The sarcophagus didn't just keep the chamber from collapsing. It held the entire tomb together."
I reached the shaft and grabbed hold of four heavy-duty blue straps from the pile of cables and extra pads. Swiftly, I untangled them.
Graham directed Eve into the shaft. He turned off the controls. The buzzing noise stopped. Life drained out of Eve and she settled into place. Graham squeezed past her and helped me weave the straps around Eve and the sarcophagus.
I heard distant barking and looked up. Bright sunlight nearly blinded me. Then the shaft quaked. Uneasily, I steadied myself against the wall.
It quaked again. However, this tremor felt different than the other ones. The quaking increased and I heard the deep rumble of a powerful engine. Then a large two-part articulated arm appeared overhead. The boom shifted outward.
"How's that?" Twenty feet above me, Rigoberta's voice rose above the din.
"Perfect," Miranda called out. "Lower the bucket."
Mechanical clunking followed. The dipper and its substantial digging bucket descended into the shaft, reaching out to us like the Hand of God.
I hoisted myself onto the sarcophagus and helped Graham climb up on its other side. Together, we lifted the loose ends of the heavy-duty straps and secured them to the bucket.
The ground rumbled. I shot a glance toward the tunnel. It quivered for a second. Then it collapsed.
A shock wave rolled over me. I barely kept my balance. Dirt and stones dropped from the walls. The shaft began to shake.
"Take her up," I shouted.
The engine revved. Machinery clanked. The straps grew taut.
I grasped hold of a strap and held fast. Graham did the same. Then the entire load—Eve, the sarcophagus, Graham, and me—lifted into the air.
The surrounding walls started to give way. Dirt slammed into my face as the shaft exploded inward.
I lowered my head and held on tight.
Hang on. Hang on, damn it.
Chapter 9
Whirling wind engulfed the shaft. I tried to hold my breath but particles swarmed into my nose. I coughed, inhaling tons of dust in the process. I coughed again and nearly lost my grip on the strap.
I clamped my mouth shut and squinted in Graham's direction. Dust stung my eyes and they grew watery. I blinked a few times. At the other end of the sarcophagus, I spotted his huddled form.
I swung over to him. "Dutch?"
No response.
I grabbed his shoulder. His face tipped toward me. His tongue lolled out of his mouth. His forehead was a mass of matted hair and sticky blood.
I wrapped my arms around the strap and grabbed hold of his waist. My hands felt tired. Damn tired.
Can't … hold on … much longer.
Chapter 10
A dull glow burst through the dust cloud. I couldn't see much. Just a small patch of white light. Nevertheless, I felt a burst of energy. We were close to the surface.
Very close.
My fingers throbbed. I adjusted my grip on Graham but it didn't help. The throbbing spread to my wrists and then to my forearms. Before long, my shoulders started to tingle. Then my back began to hurt.
We rose higher. The light brightened. Pacho's face, several feet above me, came into view.
My fingers slowly uncurled.
Pacho frowned. "Are you okay?"
My hands separated. Desperately, I clung to Graham's shirt. "Help."
Pacho's arms plunged into the shaft.
Graham's body shifted.
My fingers stretched. Gritting my teeth, I hung on as long as I could.
Then my grip collapsed.
I tumbled backward. Graham's body slid along the stone surface. Helplessly, I watched him slide right to the edge.
And stop.
He remained still for a second. Then his body jerked. Slowly, Pacho hauled him to the surface.
I sagged. My vision dimmed. I sensed dirt exploding from all directions.
The sarcophagus tilted. I slid a foot. Then I felt myself tipping over the edge and plummeting.
Plummeting to my doom.
Chapter 11
Hands grabbed my leg. I jerked to a stop. Blinking, I stared directly into the collapsing shaft.
"Don't worry." Beverly gasped. "We've got you."
I clawed at the dirt as she and Tum pulled me upward. The walls crumbled beneath me, sealing the shaft.
I rolled onto my back. My leg ached. My fingers hurt like hell.
I hacked dust out of my lungs and wiped dirt from my face. Sitting up, I looked at Graham. He lay nearby, still as a corpse. He stirred and I exhaled in relief. Then I glanced at the sarcophagus. "We got it."
Pacho leapt into the air and pumped his fist. "Yes!"
The small clearing erupted into hoots and cheers. Yohl Ik’nal barked incessantly. Alonzo lifted his head and howled. Even Miranda, who looked frazzled and disoriented, joined in the celebration.
As I rose to my feet, Rigoberta maneuvered the backhoe. Eve's wheels touched the ground. Miranda's team gathered around the ancient coffin. Soft, excited murmurs sounded out.
Miranda sidled up to me. Her mouth moved but I couldn't hear her.
I slapped both sides of my head. Dirt poured out of my ears. "What was that?"
"I just wanted to say thanks."
"Sorry we couldn't save your tomb."
"It's not your fault." She sighed. "I should've listened to you."
"It could've been worse. At least we got Xbalanque."
She gave me a small smile and walked to her colleagues. I stood up and to
ok a few practice steps. My legs felt wobbly.
I stared at the sky, watching the clouds move. For a brief moment, I felt at peace. But it didn't last long. Soon, bits of conversation drifted into my ears.
"… can't believe …"
"… Eve. We were …"
"… shovelbum. Who knew …?"
Miranda's shovelbum remark, although said with affection, stung my ears. Shovelbum was another name for a salvage archaeologist. It referred to the endless physical labor as well as the nomadic lifestyle. Some salvage experts wore the nickname like a badge of honor. Personally, I'd always despised it.
A typical archaeological investigation involved three phases. First, an archaeologist set objectives for the investigation and surveyed the site. The actual excavation came next. Finally, the excavation data was analyzed in terms of the original objectives and the results were published.
Three distinct phases. Survey, excavation, analysis. Arguably, the first and last phases required the bulk of the brainpower. The second phase was just digging and tagging, digging and tagging. That had been my role in Miranda's excavation. I hadn't located the tomb nor would I stick around to analyze it and publish data. I'd just swooped in and recovered the sarcophagus. In a short while, I'd swoop out again.
So, the term was accurate. And I couldn't really blame her for using it. After all, I'd told her to think of me as a salvage archaeologist.
But it still annoyed me.
"What happened down there?"
I twisted toward Beverly. "Things didn't go according to plan."
"Who screwed up?"
Part of me wanted to tell her about Miranda's mistake. But Beverly had a bit of a temper and the last thing I needed was for her to cause a scene before we got paid. "It was an accident. The sarcophagus was a keystone. It got jolted and the tomb collapsed on us."
"Jolted, huh?" She gave me a skeptical look. "Well, I'm going to check on Dutch. Do you need anything?"
