by David Meyer
Alonzo spun away from the strange cat. Barking loudly, he started to nip at Tum's legs.
Acting on instinct, Tum jabbed the rifle at the dog's head. A soft cracking noise rang out. Alonzo crumpled to the ground.
Coldness swept over Tum as he knelt down to check the dog. It was no longer breathing.
Lifting his chin, he said a quick prayer for Alonzo. Then he crept toward the cat. It looked peaceful. Bending down, he examined the snare trap. He worked his fingers into the metal cables and loosened the loop. Afterward, he pulled it away.
He had no bandages and he wasn't about to risk waking the others to get some. They wouldn't understand what he was doing, how he was building a bridge of peace between man and nature.
So, he pulled off his shirt and wrapped it around the creature's wounded leg. Looking back, Tum saw Alonzo and Crowley.
A thought occurred to him. The big cat would be weak and groggy when it regained consciousness. It would need something to regain its strength.
It would need a meal.
Chapter 69
An uneasy yawn escaped my lips as I twisted in my sleeping bag. My eyes felt heavy. I could barely move my tired, exhausted limbs. But my brain was wide-awake.
Memories of Pacho's death consumed me. Thinking hard, I tried to distract myself. A picture appeared in my brain. It was crisp, clear. It captured the pyramid and surrounding jungle in dull, unearthly colors.
Did Hunahpu build the pyramid on top of previous ruins?
That made sense, especially since it was a common tactic among the Classic Mayas. Excavations of their tallest temples often showed layers of smaller temples beneath the surface. Plus, the murals I'd seen in the summit shrine had depicted small buildings in the canyon during the Maya invasion. So far, I'd seen no evidence of those buildings. Assuming Hunahpu hadn't torn them down, they could've been repurposed for the pyramid.
Is there another way inside the pyramid?
While traversing the tunnel, I'd scoured every inch of the space. I hadn't seen any other passages. Either a hidden plug blocked our path or the tunnel was just another decoy.
What about the death gods?
Graham thought they were nothing more than a story designed to scare laborers into working hard. But I wasn't so sure. Hunahpu and Xbalanque had braved animals, elements, and isolation to build a massive, impenetrable pyramid. Then they'd sealed it off from the rest of the world. That kind of dedication indicated something had spooked them. But what?
It can wait. Need to sleep.
The rain splashed noisily against the tent roof. I scrunched my eyes shut, trying to will my brain to rest. But fresh thoughts of Pacho and Miranda flooded my mind.
"Ahhh! Help me!" Crowley's distant voice burst into my ears. "Holy—"
As his voice choked out, I sat up. Beverly and I looked at each other. Then we pulled on our boots, grabbed our gear, and ran outside.
A deep-throated growl pierced the air. Wielding my machete, I ran into the jungle. I saw three shadowy figures in the distance. Alonzo lay on the ground, surrounded by a pool of blood. Crowley, bloody and covered with cuts, struggled weakly with a third shadow.
What the hell is that thing?
Horrific screams filled the air. Then something that sounded an awful lot like tearing paper.
My blood chilled as I reached for my holster. Something was being torn all right. Only it wasn't paper.
It was flesh.
Chapter 70
Crowley screamed again and I grabbed my pistol.
The creature looked at me. Its green eyes glittered dangerously. It was a dead ringer for the nagual depicted on the roof comb's stone mosaic.
I squeezed the trigger. A burst of gunfire exploded into the night. The creature reared up and twisted to the side.
I blinked.
It was gone.
"Did you see that?" I whispered.
Beverly nodded, grim-faced.
"Hey." Tum ran up to us. "Have you seen Crowley?"
"Yeah." I frowned. "Weren't you on guard duty with him?"
He nodded. "We chased the cat into the jungle. But I fell behind."
"He's over there." I looked at Crowley. "I'm going to check on him."
With pistol in hand, I crept forward. My finger remained tight on the trigger. It took me less than a minute to reach the scene of the attack.
Bile rose up in my throat as I moved past Alonzo. His chest cavity had been torn open. Several of his organs had been devoured.
I moved a little further. Crowley's shadowy mass lay at my feet. I took one last look around. The jungle was quiet, still. There were no animals.
At least none I could see.
I knelt down, keeping my pistol at the ready. Then I groped around, hoping to check his pulse. Instead, my fingers plunged into gooey gore.
I yanked my hand up. It was covered in blood.
I pointed my flashlight beam at the ground. His clothes were shredded. His head was twisted to the side and his neck had been ripped open, exposing his spine.
"Oh my God." Beverly inhaled sharply.
"He's dead." Hardening my gaze, I stared into the jungle. "And now the cat's got a taste for human blood."
Chapter 71
Unlike many of his peers, Tum had never abandoned his roots. He lived within the Lacandon Jungle. He maintained a traditional Maya diet. And he avoided so-called modern pleasures like movies, television, and the Internet.
He wasn't perfect. After all, he owned a home and a car as well as several other possessions. But he'd deliberately bought the most modest items he could find. His home was little more than a dilapidated shack. His car was just a beat-up, rust-covered engine.
Gritting his teeth, he continued to walk backward through the jungle. His hands gripped Crowley's legs while Reed held what remained of the man's torso. Fortunately, Chaac had favored them with a lighter rain, which made for easy walking.
He passed under a giant tree. The long curling branches gave him temporary refuge from the continuous storm.
The tree was known as a Ceiba pentandra. According to ancient Maya mythology, a sacred ceiba stood at the center of the earth, connecting Xibalba and the sky with the terrestrial world. Hence, its modern nickname of World Tree. The fact that a ceiba grew in the physical manifestation of Xibalba was not lost on Tum.
Unfortunately, Tum's people had lost their connection to the ceiba over the years. They still held it in reverence. They even spared it when cutting timber. But those actions were habitual. By and large, they lacked faith in the old ways.
But not Tum. He sensed the natural order that existed just beneath the surface of all living things.
He wasn't a fool. Unlike his ancient ancestors, he knew how rain worked. It only rained if certain atmospheric conditions were met. Thus, science explained the rain. However, it didn't explain how those atmospheric conditions came to pass in the first place. It didn't explain why some regions experienced years of drought while others enjoyed consistent, steady showers.
Only Chaac explained those things.
He helped Reed carry Crowley to the edge of the jungle. Then he shifted positions and walked east.
He felt terrible about Alonzo. But he felt no sorrow, no shame for what he'd done to Crowley. The man had already killed an innocent cougar. If Tum hadn't stopped him, he would've killed the strange creature as well.
With Reed's help, he laid Crowley on the ground. Without a word, Reed spun around and walked back to camp, joining Beverly in the process. Tum followed them at a short distance.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so uneasy. It was the rain's fault. It wasn't ordinary rain, the type city-dwellers ran from in the so-called civilized world. No, this was a special rain, a mystical rain.
His ancient ancestors would've been puzzled by it. They'd considered Chaac to be a largely friendly god who rarely became disgruntled with ordinary peasants. But when he did, his preferred method of punishment was to deny rain, to bring about a dro
ught. Yes, they would've considered rain to be a blessing.
But not this rain.
This rain was different. Every drop sparked with fury. The mist swirled chaotically. The wind ripped across the canyon, full of vengeful wrath. Thunder rumbled at a deafening volume. Lightning tore the sky apart.
At the edge of camp, Tum veered south. He stole to the edge of the clearing and took refuge under another ceiba tree. Leaning out, he watched as Reed and Beverly awoke the others to share the news of Crowley's untimely death.
He wondered if the issue with time, with the delayed fifth world of creation, had something to do with a lack of faith in the old ways. Maybe mankind had strayed too far from nature. In present times, people prioritized machines over wildlife. Progress over preservation. Killing animals over learning to live with them.
"How do I fix this?" Tum whispered to the sky.
Lightning blasted overhead, cutting zigzags through the inky blackness. The raindrops fell faster. The wind whipped itself into a fury.
"I know you need me. Otherwise, you wouldn't have brought me here."
Thunder boomed. Raindrops pounded on his head. The wind nearly took him off his feet.
"What should I do?"
The thunder became deafening. A torrent of rain assailed the canyon, accompanied by gale force winds.
Then a single bolt of lightning shot across the sky. Its blinding light illuminated the pyramid.
Tum's eyes widened as a thought occurred to him. Emily had first proposed the expedition back in late 2012. If she hadn't delayed it, he would've reached Xibalba by December 21, just in time to help bring in the fifth world of creation.
The dazzling light blinked out. His heart thumped as he stared at the dark, shadowy pyramid. He still didn't know how to bring about the change of worlds.
But he knew where to find the answer.
Chapter 72
I tensed up. Narrowed my gaze and scanned the pyramid's distant southwestern edge. I didn't see anything. But I was pretty sure I'd seen something a moment earlier.
I narrowed my gaze even further. But the distance, coupled with the darkness and heavy mist, thwarted my efforts.
"Cy?"
Spinning around, I fixed my gaze on Rigoberta. "Yes?"
"Mind if I join you?"
"Go ahead." I swung back to the pyramid. "Do you see anything?"
She sat down heavily on a thick piece of firewood. "Like what?"
"On the southwestern edge. About fifty feet off the ground."
"No," she said after a minute. "Why? What'd you see?"
"Nothing, I guess." I returned to the lean-to and held out my hands, drying them over the fire. "Where's everyone else?"
"Trying to sleep." She blinked. Her eyes were bloodshot. "I wish I could do the same."
A small clatter rang out. My head swiveled to the southern edge of the clearing. Using long shovels, Tum and Renau attacked the soil, putting the finishing touches on two holes next to the one I'd dug just hours earlier.
Crowley and Alonzo lay several feet away. Like Pacho, their corpses were wrapped in blankets with duct tape securing the fabric.
"Did you know Crowley well?" I asked.
She shook her head.
"How about Alonzo?"
"Yes." She breathed softly. "I knew him as long as I knew Pacho. I miss them both. But I miss Yohl Ik’nal most of all."
I watched Tum and Renau finish the holes. Before removing the bodies, I'd done my best to piece together their last moments. It appeared the nagual had gotten snagged in a snare trap. Alonzo and Crowley, running ahead of Tum, had caught up with it. Somehow the nagual had slipped the snare and killed them both. It made sense. Still, I couldn't help but feel like I was missing something.
Their deaths, like those of the workers in the Maya Mountains, had seemingly come without warning. But this time, I didn't let the tragedy get to me. Beverly and Graham had chosen to come on the expedition. Until they said otherwise, I'd support their decisions.
My gaze shifted to the marsh. It looked so empty, especially compared to the battle mural from the summit shrine. It was hard to imagine the area had once been filled with small buildings.
The more I thought about it, the more I wondered why the Xibalbans had chosen to build their city in the middle of a marsh. Why hadn't they erected the buildings on dry land instead?
"I need to check on something. I'll be …" My eyes widened as I looked at Rigoberta. "Are you okay?"
Her face looked pale. Her eyes were sunken and hollow. Her hands trembled gently in her lap. "I'm fine," she whispered in a pained voice.
"Stay here. I'll get Dr. Wu."
"Don't worry." She straightened up. "I'm just tired."
I glanced at her legs. Purplish streaks ran out from under her shorts and swept down her thighs. "What are those marks?"
"Nothing." She tugged at her shorts. "Just old bruises."
I stared at her.
"Well, I'm going to try to sleep." She stood up and steadied her wobbling hands. "I'll see you in the morning."
I watched her walk across camp and climb into her tent. Then I turned back to the pyramid. I knew I was missing something about it.
But what?
Chapter 73
"See what I mean?" I pointed at the north mural. "There used to be buildings here. Maybe a dozen or so, from the looks of it."
Graham yawned. "So what?"
After Rigoberta had gone to bed, I'd hauled Graham and Beverly out of their tents. On a hunch, I'd led them to the summit shrine.
"So, what happened to the buildings?" I asked.
"Hunahpu destroyed them. Look, this is a waste of time. We've already opened a tunnel. We should be in it, looking for weak spots."
Beverly crossed her arms. "Give him a minute, Dutch."
He grunted in annoyance.
I looked at the ceiling mural. "Do you see those little objects near the pyramid?"
Beverly shifted her beam. "Yeah. They look like wooden cranes."
"Remember that photo from the infrared camera?" I said to Graham. "It showed light red blobs on the edges of the pyramid. Maybe those blobs are notches."
He gave me a confused look. "Notches?"
"Think about the logistics of workers pushing and pulling a rectangular block up an interior spiraling ramp. At every corner, they'd be stuck with two sides pressed against the wall. In order to keep moving up the ramp, they'd have to turn the block. I think notches were carved at each turning point." I nodded at the tiny wooden cranes. "Those things were installed inside the notches. When a block reached a turning point, the crane would lift and rotate it so workers could move it to the next turning point."
Beverly nodded. "That sounds plausible."
"Plus, it explains why I've seen animals crawling around the pyramid. Hunahpu probably sealed the notches before he left. But a few of them came open over the years. Animals must use them for nests."
"Sure, it's plausible." Graham shrugged. "But so what? We're no closer to finding the Library of the Mayas."
A thought crossed my mind. It was so simple I was amazed I hadn't realized it earlier. And then I knew. I knew the tunnel we'd found was just another decoy. I knew where Hunahpu had hidden the true entrance.
And I knew how to get to it.
"The lowest notches were about ten feet off the ground." I studied the overhead mural. "But it seems pretty clear the exterior ramp was used for that part. Why would there be notches so close to the marsh?"
Beverly gave me a quizzical look. "Maybe they were a design feature?"
"It's better if I show you," I replied. "Follow me."
I strode down the steps and jumped into the marsh. Kneeling down, I thrust my hands into the water. Swiftly, I shoveled mud and vegetation away from the pyramid's southern edge.
My heart raced as I dug deeper and deeper. Soon, I'd cleared away a few feet of soft mud. "Exactly as I thought." I stood up and wiped mud on my shirt. "This isn't the real ground level. The pyr
amid extends under the marsh. Possibly way under it."
Chapter 74
"We're going to drain the marsh." I lifted my voice as a heavy wind swept over the canyon. "Dutch tells me our pumping apparatus was damaged in the crash. Once it's fixed, we'll start the process. It probably won't be finished until this afternoon."
Dora furrowed her brow. "Where are you going to put the water?"
"Yeah," Renau said. "It's not like you can just pump it into the jungle. The ground is sloped. It'll flow right back into the marsh."
"We're going to direct it east," I replied. "Into the river."
"But that old wall stands in the way."
"We're going to drill a few holes into the wall and snake the hoses through to the other side. But we need to be careful. We don't want to accidentally drain artifacts into the river." I nodded at Beverly. "Would you like to explain your plan?"
"Gladly." She stepped away from the crowd and joined me on the other side of the dome tent. "I'm going to weld a large box out of metal scrounged from the helicopter. It'll have multiple holes on each side in order to fit hoses. Dutch's pumping apparatus will direct water out of the marsh and into the box. Any debris removed from the marsh will sink to the bottom. Then the water will drain into the river via a separate set of hoses."
"That's not a bad system," Miranda said begrudgingly. "But aren't you worried about displacing artifacts from their context?"
"Yes." It took all my self-control not to grab her, to demand answers about Pacho's death. "It's possible some artifacts might get knocked around a bit. We'll do everything possible to keep that from happening. But I can't promise we'll be successful."
She sighed.
"This won't be perfect," I said loudly. "But it's the fastest way to achieve our objective. Now, I need people to monitor the box. Your job will be to scoop out debris and store it for later analysis. It shouldn't be too difficult and there will be plenty of downtime."
Dora raised her hand. "Renau and I can do that."
