Curse of the Mummy's Uncle

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Curse of the Mummy's Uncle Page 10

by J. Scott Savage

“That was amazing!” Carter said, clutching his stomach. “I’ve never been so scared in my life. Dude, that guy was so close I could smell his cologne. It was the worst stink ever. Like stench-of-the-jaguar’s-bladder or something.”

  Suddenly Nick was laughing as well. “It probably wasn’t cologne. I’ll bet he peed his pants. I would have if you did that to me.”

  Angelo sat, clutching his ribs and gasping. “I thought we were caught for sure. How did you come up with that?”

  Carter wiped his eyes. “Desperation. The only thing I could think of was one time when I saw my sister tiptoeing down the hall at night to get a snack when we were both supposed to be in bed. I put on a werewolf mask and howled. It worked on her, so I figured it might work on him.”

  “Remind me never to sneak around your house at night,” Nick said.

  When they were finally breathing normally, the boys returned to their tent. Nick kept expecting someone to drag them out, demanding to know what they’d been doing in the forest. But no one did, and the next morning everything seemed like business as usual.

  Mr. Jiménez met them for breakfast and informed them with a smile and a shrug that they’d be back cutting weeds on the pyramid of the moon. “Work hard and maybe Dr. Canul will give you a break.”

  “I don’t get it,” Nick said under his breath. “Why isn’t anybody saying anything about what we saw last night?”

  “They might not know it was us,” Carter suggested. “You were in the dark when the guy opened the door, and we ran like crazy.”

  Angelo cut into a thick Mexican sausage the cook had called chorizo. “Or perhaps they know it was us, but admitting we were there would mean admitting they’ve been trying to find the alien artifact.”

  Nick wondered if Dr. Lopez would meet them at the temple again. But apparently she was working somewhere else. He didn’t blame her. If anything, it was hotter than the day before, and the bugs were even more annoying.

  As soon as they reached the top of the pyramid, Carter took out his knitting, and Angelo began passing around the temple. He’d seemed tense all morning, and Nick was pretty sure he knew why. “I’m sure your test will come back for alien DNA this time. But if even they, you know, don’t . . . that doesn’t mean you have to stop hunting monsters. It just means we need to find proof of some other monster to show your parents.”

  “Sure,” Angelo said. But he continued to pace. Nick had to find a way to take his friend’s mind off the swabs before he burst a brain cell or something.

  “Tell me more about that book,” he said, snipping a few random leaves. “The purple view of something.”

  “Popol Vuh,” Angelo said absently. “Why do you want to know? I thought you didn’t care about it.”

  Nick didn’t. But he knew if he could get Angelo talking about something, it would calm him down. “Well, if there is a secret passage to the alien artifact like you said, maybe this book has a clue about how to find it. Or . . .” He had an idea he knew Angelo would like. “What if the item isn’t a device to summon the spaceship? What if it’s an actual portal to their planet?”

  Angelo stopped pacing. “That could be. The passageway is an actual passageway. An alien species advanced enough to fly to Earth might very well have the ability to create a doorway home once they got here.”

  He grabbed his monster notebook and began flipping through its pages. “From what I’ve read, the Popol Vuh mostly seems to be a story about these two brothers who go to the underworld and have to pass all these tests. Their uncles tried before them, only they failed when they were sent into something called the house of darkness and burned torches they were commanded not to.”

  Carter came over to listen. “Got any more of that jerky?”

  “What happens to them after they fail?” Nick asked.

  Angelo pulled the half-empty bag out of his pack. “The lords of death cut off one of their heads and hang it in a tree. But the hero brothers pass all the tests and get past the lords of death.”

  They shared the jerky and sat in the shade as Angelo told the tale of how the hero brothers passed the tests. It was pretty cool. There was a head hanging from a tree that spit into a woman’s hand, ten scary demons, and a bunch of exciting obstacles.

  By the time Angelo got to the end, Nick was leaning back against the wall, feeling a little sleepy.

  Carter fished through the bag for any last jerky crumbs.

  “Did you know the last party of archaeologists came here at almost the exact same time of year as this group?” Angelo said, stifling a yawn.

  “Weird coincidence,” Nick said, tugging halfheartedly at a root between his feet.

  “Actually, it might not be,” Angelo said. “I mean, what are the odds that both teams arrived within a few days of the same date?”

  Carter sucked jerky dust from his fingers. “They probably both had time off for Christmas break.”

  Angelo shook his head. “I don’t think it had anything to do with Christmas. I think Dr. Lopez was right—it’s all about the winter solstice. It’s like everything here was built to be a huge calendar.” He pulled out the black folder and studied one of the newspaper clippings. “Okay, this is really strange. The team of archaeologists who were lost almost definitely disappeared during the exact day of the winter solstice fifty-two years ago. And tonight is the winter solstice too. Coincidence?”

  The root Nick was pulling on suddenly came loose, and he fell against the wall. He rubbed his spine and lay back on the grass. “What are you saying? You think something’s going to happen here again?”

  “I don’t know,” Angelo said, returning to the pages. “But I think it might be interesting to find our way to the top of the pyramid of the sun tonight. Maybe just hang around and see what happens.”

  “Sure. Why not?” Nick closed his eyes and yawned. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

  The next thing he knew, someone was shaking him.

  “Wake up,” Angelo said. “We fell asleep.”

  Nick sat up and realized the sun was almost all the way across the sky. “What time is it?”

  Angelo checked his tablet. “After five. Come on. We need to check the DNA tester.”

  “Not until we eat.” Carter groaned and rubbed his stomach. “I’m starving.”

  It was all they could do to keep Angelo from going straight back to the tent. When they dragged him to dinner, he hunched over his reading and barely touched his food. Carter finished off the last of his tacos and eyed Angelo’s plate. “Are you going to eat those?”

  Angelo pushed his plate to Carter. “This is amazing.”

  “I know, right?” Carter said. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat at Taco Bell after this. The cook is, like, some kind of magician.”

  “Not the food,” Angelo said. “These pages. There’s a whole article on ceremonies. According to this, some people believed you could draw power directly from a god if you were his direct descendant. A few of the royalty even believed they could become the god by taking the life of an innocent person. What if the aliens had a way of turning the Mayan leaders into their species? Or what if the kings really were aliens, but no one knew it because they disguised themselves as humans?”

  Nick was only half listening. There was something odd going on in the meal tent, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. “Do you guys notice anything different around here?” he asked.

  Carter and Angelo looked around. “What do you mean, different?” Carter said. “Like, Hey we’re all wearing matching shirts different or Look, that guy has two heads different?”

  “I’m not sure.” Nick looked at the men talking and eating at a nearby table. There was a sort of nervous intensity to their words and actions—as if they were all waiting for something.

  “You know how a group of people will line up at a theme park when a new ride opens? Everyone’s kind of talking excitedly and watching the gate. Then, as soon as they start letting people in, the energy rises to this whole
new level. That’s what this feels like.”

  “They’re probably waiting for more tacos,” Carter said. “I know I am.”

  Angelo studied the men around them. “I see what you mean. It’s like a bunch of wasps after someone has poked their nest. You think it has something to do with what we saw last night?”

  Nick wasn’t sure. But whatever it was, it made him uncomfortable.

  “Let’s get back to the tent and do those tests,” Nick said. “Then I want to find my mom and dad. I don’t know what’s going on here. But I don’t like it.”

  Back at their tent, Angelo quickly inserted the tubes into the tester and started up the machine. Nick dropped onto his cot and something crackled. “What’s this?” he asked, pulling a piece of white paper out from under his leg.

  It was a note. Nick read it with a sense of unease.

  Having dinner with Dr. Canul on top of the pyramid of the sun. Don’t get into any trouble.

  The note must have been written by his dad—the letters weren’t neat enough to be his mom’s.

  “Everything okay?” Carter asked.

  Nick nodded. “I guess. It’s just . . .”

  The tester started beeping and Angelo pulled out the results. He scanned them quickly and frowned. “Guys, I think we have a problem.”

  “What’s up?” Carter asked. “Did you discover alien DNA?”

  “No,” Angelo said. “No alien DNA at all. It looks like I’ve been wrong about the extraterrestrials all along.”

  “You don’t know that,” Nick said. “Maybe there is alien DNA and you just haven’t found any yet.”

  Angelo sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m out of swabs. There’s no way I can prove extraterrestrials were ever here.”

  Carter grabbed his shoulder. “I’m sorry, man.”

  Angelo looked up from the tester, his eyes wide. He licked his lips. “But I did find something else. Remember how I told you guys that Mayan royalty believed they were descended directly from the gods?”

  Nick nodded, wondering why Angelo was going off on a tangent again.

  Angelo held up the paper, covered with numbers that meant nothing to Nick. “When I took the swabs, I was searching for nonhuman DNA. I didn’t find that. But the test results show something strange.” He pointed at one set of numbers. “This is the DNA I took off my hard hat. And this is the set of DNA I took from the scepter I found in the underground room. Look at these two. They’re not identical, but they’re a close enough match that it can’t be a coincidence.”

  Carter waved his hands in a hurry-up gesture. “You’re doing that I’m a really smart scientist, so no one can understand me thing again. Talk in sixth-grade words.”

  Angelo set down the paper. “These tests suggest that someone who touched my hard hat is a direct descendant of someone who was in the pyramid hundreds of years ago.”

  “Canul,” Nick said. “He bragged about being a direct descendant of the Mayans and he gave us the hats.”

  “That’s what I think too,” Angelo said. “Only, what if he’s not just a descendant of the people who built the pyramid, but the king himself? It would explain how protective he is of everything here. And if that’s the case, he might believe the myths about being a direct descendant of the sun god, too.”

  The pieces that had been swirling in Nick’s head snapped together with a bang. “The incense in the underground room, the winter solstice, the voices saying it was almost time. He’s going to try to perform a ceremony to get the power of the sun god.”

  “Not just the sun god’s power,” Angelo said. “I think he’s trying to become the sun god. What if that’s what his father was trying to do fifty-two years ago, too?”

  “That could be why everybody disappeared,” Carter said. “Maybe something went wrong.”

  Nick’s mouth went dry, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. “My parents are with Dr. Canul right now, on top of the pyramid. What if that’s why he brought us here? He could be getting ready to use my parents as some kind of sacrifice!”

  For a second Nick could only stand there. His parents . . . on a pyramid . . . about to be sacrificed to the sun god. It was like something straight out of all the horror movies he’d ever seen.

  “We have to call the police!” Carter shouted, pacing frantically around the tent.

  Angelo clutched the DNA results in one fist. “What police? And how would we call them?”

  Nick walked to the entrance of the tent. “We have to tell someone.”

  “But who do we tell?” Angelo stood up. “Canul is in charge of the excavation. For all we know, the whole camp is in on it.”

  “Then we handle it ourselves.” Nick ran out of the tent and straight into Mr. Jiménez.

  “Whoa,” the little man said, catching Nick. “What’s the hurry?”

  Angelo and Carter came running out behind Nick, and Mr. Jiménez seemed to realize something was really wrong. “What’s going on here? Did something happen?”

  Nick wasn’t sure who he could trust, but they needed help and they couldn’t stand around while his parents were in danger. “It’s my mom and dad,” Nick gasped. “Dr. Canul has them on top of the pyramid and he’s going to sacrifice them.”

  The archaeologist started to smile. “This is a joke of some kind? Yes?”

  “It’s not a joke,” Carter said. “He’s trying to do some crazy hocus-pocus stuff to get the power of the sun god.”

  Mr. Jiménez looked from Nick to Carter, the smile disappearing from his face.

  “It’s true,” Angelo said. “I took a swab from an ancient scepter. The DNA is a direct match to someone in the camp. It has to be Dr. Canul.”

  “Let me see that,” Mr. Jiménez said, reaching for the DNA results. Angelo handed him the strip of paper, and the archaeologist studied it carefully. He rubbed the top of his bald head. “This does appear valid. But it’s quite a leap to go from a DNA test to human sacrifice. Dr. Canul is a respected archaeologist.”

  “It’s not just the DNA,” Angelo said. He took the black folder from his backpack. “It’s all in here. The first group of archaeologists disappeared during the winter solstice. They were doing the same thing. But something must have happened.”

  Mr. Jiménez took the folder and glanced through the pages. “Where did you get this?”

  “Does it matter?” Nick asked, bouncing from one foot to the other. “If you’re not coming with us, we’re going on our own. My parents could be in danger.”

  “Yes, all right.” The archaeologist took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the perspiration from his face. “I still don’t believe Dr. Canul is capable of something like this. But we’d better check it out just the same.” He turned and hurried toward the pyramid.

  “Shouldn’t we get some help?” Angelo asked.

  “If what you say is true, we may not have time. The kind of ceremony you are talking about would require preparation. Besides . . .” He glanced over his shoulder at Nick and his friends as they climbed the pyramid. “I hate to admit it, but I’ve had a suspicion something was going on for a while now. I have no idea who else might be involved.”

  The four of them hurried up the steps of the pyramid as the sun turned first red and then orange, dipping low in the sky.

  “Tell him about the underground room,” Carter panted.

  Nick checked with Angelo, still not sure how much they should be sharing. When Angelo nodded, Nick told Mr. Jiménez about seeing the men taking boxes from the pyramid and following them to the underground room in the jungle. The more he told, the angrier the archaeologist grew.

  “This is unacceptable! These are priceless artifacts.” He threw out his arms. “They should be in a museum, not in a . . . a bunker!”

  “A stinky bunker,” Carter said.

  “Eh?” Mr. Jiménez raised an eyebrow.

  “It smelled like they were burning incense,” Angelo said.

  The archaeologist jerked as if he’d been slapped. “No.”


  “Does that mean something?” Nick asked. His chest felt like it was on fire and he had a cramp in his side, but he had to keep pushing.

  “It could,” Mr. Jiménez said, without explaining any further.

  As soon as they reached the top of the pyramid, Nick looked toward the altar where he and his family had eaten dinner with Dr. Canul. There was no sign of the doctor or his parents. “Where are they?” he asked, unsure whether to be relieved or worried even more.

  Mr. Jiménez pointed to Nick and Carter. “You two check the sides and back of the temple.” He nodded toward Angelo. “You and I will look inside. Perhaps this is simply a miscommunication.”

  As Mr. Jiménez and Angelo started into the temple, the archaeologist looked back. “If you see anything, call out. Do not try to handle it on your own.”

  Nick chewed on his bottom lip. Something was wrong. Even if his parents had joined Dr. Canul for an innocent dinner, why weren’t they here? “You go left and I’ll go right,” he said. “If you see them shout for me.”

  Carter bunched his fists. “If I see that gasbag messing with your mom, I’ll hit him so hard his grandkids will feel it.”

  Nick jogged the grassy stone surface of the pyramid. The sun was almost down now and he was growing more and more worried by the second. As he rounded the back of the temple, he thought he heard something. “Carter?” he called.

  Carter raced around from the other side of the building, his face red with exertion. “Did you see something?”

  “No. You?”

  Carter shook his head and ran his hands through his red, green, and white–striped hair. “Maybe they ate already and went back to camp?”

  “Could be.” Nick glanced toward the back of the temple. Mr. Jiménez and Angelo should have been able to search it by now. “Let’s see if they found anything.”

  When the two boys reached the back entrance of the temple, the sun was nothing more than a gold splinter in a deep purple sky. They stopped just outside the arched doorway. “Angelo?” Nick called. “Mr. Jiménez?”

  There was no answer.

  “I don’t like this,” Carter said.

 

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