“Has anyone left the village?”
“Up to when I came here, nobody. No one wanted to leave the village last night. They were too fokin frightened. Besides, there was so much to do. We tried to identify the bodies, separate them between the villagers and the visitors, but that was difficult because it was nighttime and many of them were mauled or burnt. Fallen homes had to be searched for any injured or dead. All the vehicles had flat tires; ripped by the tusks of the kitams and the waaries.” He shook his head. “I suppose word has been sent out this morning. I don’t know how this will be explained.”
“We better get going.” I turned, looking to the ground, then picked up the medallion and the two metal thumbs. I had nowhere to put them so I handed them to Rhys. “Secure these.” I then picked up my machete.
“I will, Chiac.” He bent down and picked up my loincloth. “Better put this on.” He smiled, weakly.
We ran briskly back to Santa Cruz. There were no bodies lying on the road and in Santa Cruz there were people all about, but they were not a happy excited people like the day before. There was hardly a sound as the shock of what had taken place slowly sank in, as the loss that had been suffered made itself fully known. Occasionally, there was a cry from one of the villagers, but it was soon stifled as preparations began for the travel to the afterlife. Three trucks and villagers from San Antonio were there, so the request for help had been sent out. In the Central Plaza, under the Sacred Ceiba tree, beside broken musical instruments and scattered food and bottles of drink, two lines of bodies stretched southward from the two churches there. One was for the villagers, the other for the visitors. Father Stiobhan, Robertson, and a policeman were moving among the bodies, while one truck was being loaded with the dead visitors for transport to Punta Gorda. Older children were carrying baskets, searching, gathering; not baskets filled with flowers like yesterday, but baskets filled with bleeding thumbs for in the horror that prevailed, thumbs were everywhere and they still bled.
The villagers standing beside the line of their dead began moving them to their broken homes, to get them ready for beriyin111 later that day. A group of men with shovels were taking the pikaado to the cemetery, north of Santa Cruz. It would be a busy and sad evening for Santa Cruz.
But my people were resilient. Already, men and women were shifting through their broken houses, separating thatch from poles and lumber, moving aside tables and chairs and household articles. The homes that were not too badly damaged were already being repaired. The tables under the Sacred Ceiba tree were being up-righted, unbroken bottles, plates, cups, forks placed on them. Santa Cruz was already preparing for the traditional feast after a beriyin and I smelled the sweet aroma of ixtama’als cooking, kua baking, haaleb roasting … and the tears swelled in my eyes. I brushed the tears away for that day was not a day for crying and I had promised myself that it would be a long time before I cried again. No! It was not a day for crying. Not for me.
Pas approached me, his face lined with emotion, seemingly oblivious that I was still dressed only in my loincloth and machete. He handed me my rifle and two reloaded magazines. “About one hundred dead, Sarge. About fifty visitors, the rest villagers. The Alcalde is dead. His son Gustavio is acting in his place.”
“One hundred! That’s like the population of Santa Cruz.” I closed my eyes, biting mercilessly on my teeth. “What the fok have I done?”
Pas looked even more troubled and agonized. “Sarge!”
“Go on, Corporal.”
“Almost all of the dead are from this area, villagers from Santa Cruz itself and your family’s guests from the nearby villages. Although many of the quests from Belize City are hurt, only a few are dead. There are about a dozen badly burnt bodies and we don’t know who they are. We think the Maid of Honor, Maureen Wade, is one of them, but we aren’t certain. The killing almost seemed selective.”
Turmoil tore at me and I felt as if my chest would burst. “I caused this. I caused this,” I shouted in anger.
“Sarge!” continued Pas. He looked drained. “We have not found Molly.”
“I know you wouldn’t, Corp.” I looked to the Maya Mountains, rage once again building within me. “He has her. Tzultacah112 did not take him far enough away.”
“He?” puzzled Pascascio.
“Continue what you’re doing, Corporal. I have, I haveto think. I have to plan. Come with me Rhys.”
We crossed the small bridge above the Santa Cruz Creek and walked to the northwestern margin of the village. My objective was to see where the attackers had left Santa Cruz. I assumed that they would have left from that area to go into the Maya Mountains, but I wanted to confirm that belief. Their tracts were obvious; they had, indeed, gone that way and into the Maya Mountains.
We turned back, crossed the bridge again and passed the school which was housing the injured as they were being prepared for transport to the Punta Gorda Hospital. We walked through the football field and made our way to where my hut and the army tents were. The tents were flattened, but my hut was untouched, untouched in mockery. I would have broken it down myself if Rhys had not stopped me, grabbing onto me and shouting in my ears. I finally settled down after Rhys threatened to butt me with his rifle. I went inside, Rhys following me closely, and I threw myself onto a stool.
“You have to control your fokin self, Chiac. You just have to,” ordered Rhys. I was ready to foam at the mouth. “You said you need to think, to plan. Let’s fokin do that.” Rhys’ voice was quiet, but firm. I closed my eyes, trying to get control of myself, trying not to howl and bawl.
“He has her. I have to go after her,” I said. “I have to rescue her.”
Rhys stared at me. “Who the fok is he? Go after her? Rescue her? How do you even fokin know she’s alive?”
“I’m not going to ask you to come with me, Rhys. The last time I took a friend with me on a mission into the jungle, he died.”
“Well! You’re not going alone. Just get that into your thick fokin skull.” Rhys sighed loudly. “Fok! What a disaster.” He took off his beret, looked at it then placed it back on his head.”
I stood up, staring up at Rhys, directly in his eyes. “She’s alive. He doesn’t want her dead. He wants to fokin marry her.”
“Who the fok is he? repeated Rhys.
I looked at him. “I told you what happened before.” I drew in a deep breath and glanced away. “Perhaps you didn’t believe me.” I heard him shuffle his feet. “Sisimito, Rhys. He is Sisimito. I’m being pulled back into his world of enchantment.” I looked at him. “We all are, Rhys. Why do you think the animals behaved as they did?”
Rhys shook his head in disbelief. He turned, walked to the doorway, looked out. “Right now, I’m not even going to think about the why or the how. I’m not going to think about how on fokin Earth we’re going to explain what happened without Command thinking we were all drunk, drugged up on marijuana, or all totally fokin crazy. You know, Chiac, when you told me about what happened in the Cockscomb Basin, we were both drunk. I still don’t know if you even wanted to tell me that story or if it was only the lika.”113
“It was no story,” I responded.
He kept looking outside. “I wanted to believe you, because you and I are close. At the same time, I didn’t want to believe you. I didn’t want to believe that those Jungle Folk, the Kechelaj Komon, actually exist. I come from a different background, Chiac. I come from the city and you from Santa Cruz where you are part of this jungle, this folklore. Different customs. Different life.” Rhys sighed again. “I still find it hard to accept what happened here last night. I don’t want to believe. I want someone to tell me it was all a sick joke. A hallucination as if I had smoked too much weed.”
“It was no sick joke. No hallucination. The only sick joke about it is that I caused it. If I had agreed to the wedding in Belize City, as Ma and Pa Cervantez wanted, none of this would have happened. Sisimito, his Kechelaj Komon, and his Kechelaj Jupuq could not have pulled
off something like that in the city.”
Rhys turned and looked at me. “You don’t fokin know that. It could have happened. More people could have been killed. I have seen those creatures … the Kechelaj Komon. I know what they can do. They are not … normal.” He paced. “I fokin believe,” he almost shouted. “I have to. I have no choice. I have seen them. I have seen what they can do. Choice has been taken away.” He hit his fists against the wall. “What’s the Kechelaj Jupuq?”
“His enchanted animals. Those he has under his control. His Warriors.”
Rhys backed into the hut and Taat stood in the doorway. There was no emotion on his face. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going after her.”
“When?”
“As soon as I can.” He stared at me. “Before Kinich casts no shadow.”
“Good.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t come to you before. And Nah’?”
“Nah’s okay. You did right. Molly comes first.” Taat turned and left. I couldn’t tell him that I had slept at the altar, not knowing what else to do.
“Before Kinich casts no shadow?” queried Rhys. “Why are you talking like that?” I smiled, inscrutably. “Before mid-day. The sun casts no shadow at mid-day. It is directly overhead.”
Rhys removed his beret again and scratched his head. “Can you be ready by then? You’re going into the jungle. You need …”
“The jungle is my home, Rhys. I don’t need much. I have to get out of here before Command comes down. If not, they’ll order me to stay while they organize a search party. I can’t wait on that. They’ll want to do things the traditional way. There’s nothing traditional about this. There’s
nothing normal about the Kechelaj Komon and Kechelaj Jupuq. Besides, they won’t know where the fok to go.”
“Do you? We know where they left the village, but who the fok knows where they went?”
“I’ll know.”
Rhys shook his head and furrowed his brow. “What a fokin disaster!” He looked at me. “Well, you’ve only got a couple hours before the “sun casts no shadow”, or whatever the sun doesn’t do. Better take off your present dress and beginning looking like a soldier. He went over to the corner where my fatigues lay on top of my grip.114 “Do you want some water? You’re bloody and stink.”
“No!” I took off the loincloth. He handed me my fatigues and I started to dress. “Get me Corporal Pascascio.”
“Sarge!” he shouted, as he left.
I had finished dressing when Corporal Pascascio and Rhys came in. “Sarge!” they said, acknowledging me.
“Corp. I’m going for Molly.”
He nodded. “I know. Rhys told me.” He sighed. It seemed that everyone was sighing. “Fok me!” He placed his hands on his head. “What do you want me to do?”
“I have to leave before Command gets here. Just tell them I’m gone … gone on a rescue mission. Searching for the murderers. Anything you fokin want to tell them. I’m taking Rhys with me.”
“They’ll be angry. Maybe you should wait. You’ll need equipment … How will you contact us? We don’t have a radio here.” He looked at me. “How can only you and Rhys take on what happened here? Both of you will be fokin killed.”
“Then that’s the way it will have to be. I am not ordering Rhys to go with me. He says that he is going.”
“With all due respect, Sarge, don’t you think that this decision is impulsive, not well thought out because of your anger … and your loss. I’m sure Command will be sending out at least a platoon.”
“I know what I am dealing with, Pas. They don’t,” I interrupted, firmly.
“Maybe you should take some of the other men with you. They’re your friends … buddies. They’ll want to go. I could go.”
I shook my head, memories of my dead and mutilated men flashing in my eyes. “They don’t know the jungle I am going into and you need to command things here and report to HQ.”
“There’s Choco and Teul. They’re from this area. Rhys doesn’t know this area.”
I looked at Pas. I heard Rhys fidgeting. “I can train one soldier quickly, let him know what to expect, what to do and don’t do. Train as we go. I won’t be able to train a fireteam. I also need to move quietly and quickly.”
Pas grimaced, shaking his head. “What else can I do?”
“Rhys. Go with Corp. Pack two bergens115 as if you were going into the jungle for a week on a training mission. Take enough of what we’ll need. No extra uniforms. Make sure we have more than enough ammo.”
“Sarge!” they shouted and turned to leave, almost bumping into Taat who had returned and was standing at the doorway.
“Wait,” said Taat. “Do two more rucksacks … bergens as you call them.”
I looked at Taat. “What do you mean?”
“Come in,” he said. Demetrio Choc and Superintendent Robertson walked in.
“We three are also going with you,” declared Taat, but I will use my large cuxtal.”
I stared at him. I had never told him ‘No’ in my life. “No!” I said, emphatically.
Taat looked at Pas. “Go ahead, Soldier. Get the packs,” he ordered.
Pas looked at me. I was flabbergasted and just could not respond immediately. “I will, Sir,” answered Pas, very quickly. I saw Rhys grin, as the two of them hurriedly left.
“Why are you doing this, Taat?” I glowered. “Nah’ needs you, and the house needs to be fixed, built over. There’s a lot to do here. Santa Cruz needs you here. Also, you’re not young anymore. You may delay me.”
“I am your taat. I decide. I may not be young, but I’m not old. And don’t worry about Nah’. She’ll be taken care of.”
“Taken care of?”
“Yes!”
I shook my head, not wanting to carry on the conversation. This will be difficult, if not impossible. I looked at the other two. “And you Choc, what can you do to help on a mission like this? You’re not a soldier. You have no training. And you Superintendent … this is no ordinary police work.”
“I am originally from Blue Creek, but now I am from Jalacte,” declared Choc. “The beautiful Jalacte River runs through my village that is set in hills and jungle. The magnificent Jalacte Palm grows there, both on the banksides and in my village. I am Ke’kchi, just like you. I know my jungle, just like you. I hunt, just like you. I kill, just like you. I will revenge my people, just like you.”
I saw pride in the young man and I felt deep emotions swell in my heart. I didn’t want to take him with me … to be killed. “Fok!” I looked toward Robertson.
“I am in charge of enforcing the law in Toledo,” he stated. “All this area is in my jurisdiction. I am responsible for finding and bringing back those responsible for what happened here yesterday.”
“Bringing back?” I asked, incredulously. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”
“Yes, Sarge. As I said, bring back. Also, maybe unknown to you, I have made myself well acquainted with this jungle and these mountains. I know that this is not regular police work, but I am going with you. Her Majesty’s Law must be represented. Also, I am sure my training and the fact that I can shoot, will be an asset to you on your mission.”
I was rapidly losing control of my mission. I turned and began walking up and down, trying to think. I remembered what Pas had said. Was I being impulsive? Was I reacting to my anger? My loss? Was my judgement impaired?
“Okay! But I am in command. We take no one else.”
“When do we leave and from where?” asked Taat.
“We leave in one hour. We’ll meet at the beginning of the trail to San Jose Hawiia. We’ll travel northwesterly, go through the village, and continue on the trail to Miramar116 Hill and then into the Maya Mountains.” Taat nodded. “Bring the maps I have at the house. And my machete.”
“The house is damaged badly. I hope I can find them.”
“Find them, Taat.”
“I know them, but if something happens to me, or if we get separated, the men will need them,” I responded. “Find them and give them to Rhys.”
“Yes, Sir!” he replied, almost haughtily.
“Chiac!” I nodded to Robertson. “Why are we going in that direction?”
“Because I say so, Sup. And for the rest of this mission, I am Sarge.” I looked at everyone. “Is that clear?” They did not answer, but they all nodded their heads, including Taat. I knew that Robertson’s question was not unreasonable, but I wanted to make a point. I looked at him. “I went to the northwestern margin of the village. Their tracts are there. They went to the northwest, into the Maya Mountains.”
He nodded. “Thank you, Sarge.”
“Well, you all had better be going. Get ready. We leave in one hour. If you’re not there, I’m gone.”
When I arrived at the rendezvous point all four men were waiting, along with a group of villagers and Miss Moss. Three bergens were there on the ground, all packed. I carried mine as Rhys had brought it to me so that I could add what I wanted. I really didn’t have anything to add except for Molly’s metal thumbs and her pendant which Rhys had given back to me. I didn’t know if the men had added anything to their own. I hadn’t asked Rhys what he had packed, but I knew that he would’ve done everything regulations required, from waterproofing with plastic bags to even distribution of weight. Taat came over to me and handed me my scabbarded machete, his cuxtal already on his back. He had insisted that he pack his cuxtal with what he thought we would need so Rhys had left him alone.
Corporal Pascascio and the remaining six men from the section were also there. They gathered round and I briefed Pascascio on my plan. I had to leave some information for Command, especially since my fireteam had two civilians and the Toledo Superintendent of Police. I knew that Command would still send in a well-equipped platoon because of what occurred. They had to and it would be best to have both of us going in the same general direction. One never knew what happened in the jungle and someone from my fireteam may have to stay behind, at some point, for whatever reason. I wasn’t going to be that soldier who had to and I wouldn’t be turning back. Hopefully, if a soldier had to remain behind, it would have to be two, the platoon would be able to recover them. Yet, once we reached Miramar Hill and got into the deeper jungle, who knew what would happen?
Sisimito II--Xibalba Page 6
