by Jeff Strand
The second was to walk up the river. We’d probably perish long before we made it back to civilization, but a kindly boater might find us before we died.
The third was to return to the village and ask if the cannibals would let us live with them. This was mentioned in jest, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say there wasn’t a germ of sincerity to the discussion.
We went with the second option.
“So what do you think was in the chest?” Roger asked as we began the long, long, long, long walk. To keep ourselves from getting lost, we were walking in the river, right next to the shore, which we’d continue to do until we reached the rapids.
“Animal feces,” I said.
“Maybe it’s booby trapped. Maybe when she pops open the lid a thousand daggers will fly into her face.”
“That would be nice.”
“Maybe the lock simply can’t be opened without the key, no matter how hard you try. Maybe she’ll descend into madness from the effort.”
“Or maybe she’ll donate the twenty million dollars to a good cause,” I said. “Something to help children or animals or something. Maybe she’ll be so wracked with guilt that she’ll start a charitable foundation in our name. Or, even better, she’ll get mugged and somebody will steal it from her, but that person will donate the twenty million dollars to a good cause, so she doesn’t get the credit for the donation.”
“Or maybe every time she closes her eyes she’ll see our faces. Forever haunted. She’ll never know another moment of peace. Maybe she’ll wake up in the middle of the night screaming, until finally she can’t stand it anymore so she flings herself out of the sixth floor window of her mansion, and she lands on...I don’t know, a unicorn statue or something.”
“What we should probably do is save our energy by not talking.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” said Roger. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think we’re going to die out here.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I dunno. Naivete.”
We decided to keep walking in the dark. Neither of us would’ve been able to sleep.
Roger and I walked and walked.
We were like zombies. Not the fast-moving ones or the ones that people call zombies but are actually just infected human people—we were the slow, shambling, groaning ones.
“Do you see that?” Roger asked.
I assumed he meant “our approaching death,” but, no, there was a light up ahead.
A flashlight beam. In the middle of the river.
We picked up our pace. It was Jasper’s motorboat, run aground in the middle of the river. I couldn’t actually see that it was Henrietta holding the flashlight, but who else would it be?
She heard us coming and spun around. “Who’s there? Andrew? Roger?”
I waved to her. “Howdy!”
We kept walking toward her. She didn’t wave around a gun and tell us to stay back.
When we got close enough to speak without shouting, she said, “Boat got stuck again.”
“We see that.”
“I can’t push it by myself.”
“Bummer.”
“Okay, look,” she said. “I can shoot you both, and then die myself, or I can admit that I didn’t completely think this through. Can we let bygones be bygones?”
“Nope,” I said. “We’re walking just fine.”
“You give the boat a push, I give you a ride back to civilization, and we go our separate ways.”
“Who gets the treasure?”
“I do.”
“Kiss my ass.”
“Fine. Even shares.”
“All right, but you’ve proven yourself to be slightly untrustworthy. So we get to take the chest, and you’ll give us your contact information so we can send you your share of the proceeds later.”
“Not a chance.”
“Then, as I said before, kiss my ass.” Roger and I resumed our stroll.
Henrietta sighed. “Fine, okay? Fine.”
She got back in the boat. Roger and I gave it a great big push, while remaining cognizant of the fact that she might try to quickly start the engine and speed off without us. She didn’t. We tossed the guns overboard, and soon we were speeding back up the river.
And then, miraculously, we reached the mouth of the Sawchan River and sped onto the Amazon.
And then, even more miraculously, we were back where we’d boarded the boat. Roger and I got out, taking the backpack with us.
“I’m sorry things ended on a sour note between us,” said Henrietta. “At least I have a better boat now. Mine was a piece of crap.”
“It’s okay,” I assured her. “We all have our moments of greed where we leave people behind to die.”
“Can we try to open the chest now?” she asked. “Maybe it’s something we can divide up.”
I took a knife out of the backpack, and while Roger shone the flashlight beam on the lock, I stuck in the blade and jiggled it around. I had no idea how to pick a lock, but maybe the lock had deteriorated to the point where a few quick moves with a knife could—
The lid popped loose.
Suddenly a million butterflies formed a mosh pit in my stomach. This was the moment of truth. This was the moment where we’d find out if this entire journey had been a waste of time.
I raised the lid, feeling like I was going to throw up.
The chest was empty.
“Oh,” I said.
We all leaned in for a closer look at the emptiness.
“Oh,” I said again.
“Well,” said Roger. “I’m not going to lie and say that I’m not disappointed.”
“Is this a joke?” asked Henrietta. “Did I seriously betray you for nothing? I didn’t take that lightly. I weighed the pros and cons. My heart hurt when I left you. I had existential angst over that. Shit!”
“Is it okay if I close the lid?” I asked. “All I’m seeing is the swirling black void of my crushed dreams.”
I closed the lid. We all stared at the chest for a while.
“The chest could still be worth something,” I said. “We’ll have it appraised. Maybe we’ll be able to send you thirty bucks.”
“I appreciate that,” said Henrietta.
“So, uh, on that big freaking letdown of a note, I guess this is where we part ways,” I said, picking up the chest.
“Sorry again about abandoning you.”
“Don’t worry about it. Thanks for saving us from the cannibals.”
Roger and I got into the Jeep. Henrietta waved to us as we drove away.
“I apologize for dragging you into this,” Roger said, wiping a tear from his eye. “I guess I should’ve known how it would turn out. Maybe Percival was right. Maybe we’re cursed.”
“No need to apologize.”
“Yeah, I think I do need to apologize. You’ve got a family. You can’t be out here doing things that almost get you killed. You should have told me to go to hell. I’m a terrible friend.”
“You really don’t need to apologize.”
“Stop trying to make me feel better. I don’t deserve it.”
“No apologies are necessary.”
“Of course they’re necessary, Andrew! We almost got eaten! We almost got parasites up our urethras! Nothing good came out of this trip! I don’t think it even built character!”
“The chest has a false bottom.”
“What?”
“The bottom of the chest is not the bottom of the chest. It shifted a bit when I first opened it. I was hoping Henrietta wouldn’t notice. I mean, I’d never screw her out of her share of the treasure if she hadn’t left us to die, but since she did, I figured I’d wait until we’d gone our separate ways before we looked at what was beneath it.”
“Wow,” said Roger.
“Yeah.”
“Maybe we should put some more distance between her and us first. Check it out at the hotel, just to be safe. I know that sounds paranoid, but it’s been the kind of trip that generates par
anoia.”
“I totally agree,” I said. “I’m paranoid, too.”
I soon realized that I didn’t have the slightest idea how to get back to Manaus. But after a long drive and several dead-ends, we found a town, and then an inn. We’d forgotten how bad we looked until we walked into the lobby, but after some distasteful looks and a significant language barrier, we got a room.
The false bottom of the trunk was surprisingly difficult to pry loose, but after a few minutes with the knife I managed to get it off.
There was nothing underneath.
“I hate that fucking pirate,” said Roger.
“Don’t blame the pirate,” I said. “He wouldn’t bury an empty chest. Somebody obviously got there ahead of us.”
“And reburied it? Why would they do that?”
I tapped the bottom of the chest with the knife.
“I think it’s another false bottom,” I said.
It was even more difficult to pry this one loose.
“Just to warn you,” said Roger. “If it’s empty again, I’m going to smash that chest into sawdust.”
I removed the false bottom.
It was not empty again.
Inside was a dagger. A golden dagger encrusted with jewels all over the handle.
“Okay,” I said. “Now that’s more like it.”
Epilogue
In the year of our Lord eighteen hundred and seventy-three, the pirate Erik Bestard made a map to his buried treasure of the golden dagger with the jewel-encrusted handle. But the map, though practical, lacked the aesthetic merits that he desired, so he drew a bunch of skulls on it.
End of lesson.
We couldn’t pack a dagger in our carry-on luggage, and we didn’t want to mail it, and the Caribbean Sea made it difficult to drive from South America back to Florida, so we packed it very carefully in our checked luggage and spent the entire flight assuming that it had been stolen.
When we landed, Helen, Kyle, Theresa, Brianna, Cecilia, and Rose were there to greet us. I gave them hugs and kisses and burst into tears and I had snot coming out of my nose and my two older children were mortified but I didn’t care.
“I’m never going to leave you again,” I promised.
I’d told Helen on the phone that the treasure hunt was inconclusive and that I’d explain everything when I got home. I basically didn’t want her to get her hopes up if I opened my luggage and a certain jewel-encrusted dagger was missing.
As we waited at baggage claim, my heart gave a jolt every time a suitcase emerged that wasn’t mine.
Mine was one of the last. I quickly grabbed it, carried it over to a row of seats, and popped it open. I dug through all of the assorted junk I’d put in there to throw potential thieves off the track, and began to unfold my dirty underwear, further traumatizing Kyle and Theresa.
The dagger was still there.
“Kids,” I said, “this year you’re going to get really nice birthday presents.”
When we got home, all three of the triplets had dirty diapers, but I didn’t mind. I was thrilled to be changing their diapers. It was a special treat. I made up a clever diaper changing jingle right there on the spot.
“You’re acting weird,” said Theresa.
“It’s because I’m happy to be back.”
“We’re happy you’re back, too, but you’re still acting weird.”
“Get used to it. Here, help me make up the second verse.”
Helen and I went at it like wild animals. Though quietly, so as not to wake up the triplets.
It took quite a bit of research to find somebody who could accurately appraise the value of the dagger. He was a ninety-minute drive away, and when we presented him with the treasure he said it was going to take a few hours to give us an answer.
Helen, Roger, the kids, and I went out to a nice lunch, then hung out at a park until we got the call. We drove back to the appraiser’s office and all gathered in front of his desk.
“It’s a very nice piece,” he said. “And you were under the impression that it was worth twenty million?”
“Yes, that’s what I was told,” I said.
“Then I’m afraid I have bad news. It’s not even close to that. Again, it’s an extremely nice piece, and I can absolutely sell it for you, but its value is far below what you anticipated.”
“Okay,” I said, my heart sinking. “No big deal. How much is it worth?”
“At auction, if you included the chest, I’d say that the most it would fetch is six million dollars. Maybe six and a half.”
We all looked at each other.
“That will be fine,” I said.
— The End —
Acknowledgments
Thanks to Tod Clark, Donna Fitzpatrick, Lynne Hansen, Michael McBride, Jim Morey, Paul Synuria II, and everybody who has spent the past decade asking when there was going to be a fifth Andrew Mayhem novel.
Books By Jeff Strand
The Odds - When invited to a game that offers a 99% chance of winning fifty thousand dollars, Ethan rejoices at the chance to recoup his gambling losses. But as the game continues, the odds constantly change, and the risks become progressively deadlier...
Allison. She can break your bones using her mind. And she’s trying very hard not to hurt you.
Wolf Hunt 3. George, Lou, Ally, and Eugene are back in another werewolf-laden adventure.
Clowns Vs. Spiders. Choose your side!
My Pretties. A serial kidnapper may have met his match in the two young ladies who walk the city streets at night, using themselves as bait...
Five Novellas. A compilation of Stalking You Now, An Apocalypse of Our Own, Faint of Heart, Kutter, and Facial.
Ferocious. The creatures of the forest are dead...and hungry!
Bring Her Back. A tale of revenge and madness.
Sick House. A home invasion from beyond the grave.
Bang Up. A filthy comedic thriller. “You want to pay me to sleep with your wife?” is just the start of the story.
Cold Dead Hands. Ten people are trapped in a freezer during a terrorist attack on a grocery store.
How You Ruined My Life (Young Adult). Sixteen-year-old Rod has a pretty cool life until his cousin Blake moves in and slowly destroys everything he holds dear.
Everything Has Teeth. A third collection of short tales of horror and macabre comedy.
An Apocalypse of Our Own. Can the Friend Zone survive the end of the world?
Stranger Things Have Happened (Young Adult). Teenager Marcus Millian III is determined to be one of the greatest magicians who ever lived. Can he make a live shark disappear from a tank?
Cyclops Road. When newly widowed Evan Portin gives a woman named Harriett a ride out of town, she says she’s on a cross-country journey to slay a Cyclops. Is she crazy, or...?
Blister. While on vacation, cartoonist Jason Tray meets the town legend, a hideously disfigured woman who lives in a shed.
The Greatest Zombie Movie Ever (Young Adult). Three best friends with more passion than talent try to make the ultimate zombie epic.
Kumquat. A road trip comedy about TV, hot dogs, death, and obscure fruit.
I Have a Bad Feeling About This (Young Adult). Geeky, non-athletic Henry Lambert is sent to survival camp, which is bad enough before the trio of murderous thugs show up.
Pressure. What if your best friend was a killer...and he wanted you to be just like him? Bram Stoker Award nominee for Best Novel.
Dweller. The lifetime story of a boy and his monster. Bram Stoker Award nominee for Best Novel.
A Bad Day For Voodoo. A young adult horror/comedy about why sticking pins in a voodoo doll of your history teacher isn’t always the best idea. Bram Stoker Award nominee for Best Young Adult Novel.
Dead Clown Barbecue. A collection of demented stories about severed noses, ventriloquist dummies, giant-sized vampires, sibling stabbings, and lots of other messed-up stuff.
Dead Clown Barbecue Expansion Pack. A few more stories for those who couldn
’t get enough.
Wolf Hunt. Two thugs for hire. One beautiful woman. And one vicious frickin’ werewolf.
Wolf Hunt 2. New wolf. Same George and Lou.
The Sinister Mr. Corpse. The feel-good zombie novel of the year.
Benjamin’s Parasite. A rather disgusting action/horror/comedy about why getting infected with a ghastly parasite is unpleasant.
Fangboy. A dark and demented fairy tale for adults.
Facial. Greg has just killed the man he hired to kill one of his wife’s many lovers. Greg’s brother desperately needs a dead body. It’s kind of related to the lion corpse that he found in his basement. This is the normal part of the story.
Kutter. A serial killer finds a Boston terrier, and it might just make him into a better person.
Faint of Heart. To get her kidnapped husband back, Melody has to relive her husband’s nightmarish weekend, step-by-step...and survive.
Mandibles. Giant killer ants wreaking havoc in the big city!
Stalking You Now. A twisty-turny thriller soon to be the feature film Mindy Has To Die.
Graverobbers Wanted (No Experience Necessary). First in the Andrew Mayhem series.
Single White Psychopath Seeks Same. Second in the Andrew Mayhem series.
Casket For Sale (Only Used Once). Third in the Andrew Mayhem series.
Lost Homicidal Maniac (Answers to “Shirley”). Fourth in the Andrew Mayhem series.
Suckers (with JA Konrath). Andrew Mayhem meets Harry McGlade. Which one will prove to be more incompetent?
Gleefully Macabre Tales. A collection of thirty-two demented tales. Bram Stoker Award nominee for Best Collection.
Elrod McBugle on the Loose. A comedy for kids (and adults who were warped as kids).
The Haunted Forest Tour (with Jim Moore). The greatest theme park attraction in the world! Take a completely safe ride through an actual haunted forest! Just hope that your tram doesn’t break down, because this forest is PACKED with monsters...
Draculas (with JA Konrath, Blake Crouch, and F. Paul Wilson). An outbreak of feral vampires in a secluded hospital. This one isn’t much like Twilight.
