The Dark Spirits Beneath

by Kason Laufenberg

  Dammit, James is never going to let me hear the end of this!

  The blazing afternoon sun beginning to flirt with the mountains an butes on the horizon, Layla felt as if she was nearly about to call the whole ambitious endeavor a bust. Admit she was wrong. Admit she wasted her advisor's precious time and grant money, not to mention her own credibility. She sighed and shifted aside the remainder of loose dirt when suddenly, her fingers gently grazed something. Something that definitely wasn't just more dirt. Layla's pulse quickened, and her heartfelt as if it was poised to beat right out of her chest.

  This is it!

  Against all odds, she continued to strive to recompose herself, not wanting to gain anymore unwanted premature attention than she already has. Not until she was sure, at least. Pushing the trowel on the ground aside, Layla removed her pack and reached in to retrieve a brush from inside the main compartment. As she hesitantly, but excitedly moved away some of the lighter dirt, she could definitely make out... something. But something expected, this time. Something that even now, was beginning to emerge and take shape.

  Instantly recognizable, Layla brushed dirt away, to reveal the familiar round curvature and around the eye cavities of a yellowed human skull. This was eventually accompanied by the remainder of an exposed, prone, fully intact skeleton. It had the appearance of being interred. A burial of sorts. In its hand was clenched an obsidian dagger, its hafted wooden handle inscribed with the likeness of what looked like a fierce snake. Layla shuddered a bit, as the dark irony of her earlier encounter with the rattlesnake was not lost on her. But as shocking as all that discovery was, that wasn't all that Layla saw. That was not what had her so excited at this moment. Like a kid at Christmas!

  Layla brushed away more dirt from the vicinity of her newly exhumed, well-armed bony friend, and as she did, something else immediately began to peek through the stratigraphy of the dig. Something bright blue, and set in brilliantly shining, though somewhat tarnished silver. And just as she began to fully expose the pristine shine of the piece of jewelry, Layla uncovered signs of another alongside the first. And then, another! And direct adjacent to all of the stunning jewelry and valuable trinkets, she could now start to track the presence pottery as well. Maybe the most fully intact, exquisitely painted Hopi Pueblo-style pottery she'd ever seen! The tell-tale geometric patterns were unmistakable, in their time-worn shades of black and rusty sienna, but these were... different. The zigzagging snake imagery was certainly a unique touch, and she couldn't say exactly why, but something about the vivid artwork just made her feel uneasy. She never did like snakes. She always could relate to Indiana Jones on at least that common ground. Still, snakes or not, even Layla had to admit that the artwork was stunning, and in remarkably good shape, considering its age.

  This... this is incredible!

  Layla's excitement could hardly be contained, as she made every effort to conceal her smile and giddy enthusiasm. "Uh... James! Get over here! Give me a hand!" Layla's words were forced out as a harsh whisper, as she called out, cautiously, in the direction of the adjacent pit, still not wanting to draw too much attention.

  There was a loud clink from the pit, as Layla's colleague could be heard putting down his own trowel, and sighing audibly, with that same considerable degree of annoyance as before. "What's wrong, Miss Instinct? Having trouble finding anything on your own?" the immediate, mockingly condescending response made Layla wonder if he still hadn't even bothered to look in her direction.

  "James, could you just... get over here! Quit being an ass! I think I've found something, okay! I need back-up." Steadily getting more and more anxious, Layla started to think to herself that if only he could see what she's seeing right now, before adding, "just... trust me."

  "Oh my god, you are like the neediest goddamn student out here!" James groaned, "Fine! I'll be right over." With as little effort as possible, he proceeded to stroll over to look into the newly excavated pit, expecting to see nothing of importance, and continuing to prattle on as he does, "Okay, okay.. Where is this big something...?" But now his words were abruptly halted, as he gazed down into Layla's pit, at her discovery, mouth agape. "What the... How did you... Is that... how did you even know... a goddamn Hopi burial cache? Do you realize how rare all this is? And get a look at the condition of that jewelry, and..."

  Layla smiled, listening to him trail off in disbelief, knowing that she now had his full and undivided attention. "That's not all. Give me a hand with this," she quipped, as James was already climbing down into the pit. Together, the two of them quickly unearthed bit more of the area behind the remains themselves. Efforts, that continued to reveal the incredibly intact remnants of a curved adobe wall, that joined up with the cream-colored one at the surface. The one Layla had hit her head on when she fell. The complete structure seemed to continue well past the extent of the small test pit. "I think," Layla continued, "that this was a kiva or some other kind of ceremonial structure or something! And if the curvature of this wall is any indication... I mean, it probably the biggest one we've ever seen, out here, or anywhere else!" As Layla said this, she breathed out a sigh of relief, knowing that her secret abilities had once again paid off, just like they always seemed to.

  Layla waited for the shocked expression of awe and jealousy on her colleague's face to wear off, not seeing any indication that it will any time soon. James continued to examine the remainder of the findings, awestruck, and stammering, "But... how did you... who would've ever known...?"

  Layla found she couldn't help it. She shrugging innocently and betrayed the faintest of knowing smirks, as all she could think to modestly say at the moment was, "I told you. Instinct."

  Chapter 4

  Confusion and Mistrust

  "What? What are you staring at?"

  "I'm just... thinking..." James' gaze was penetrating, locked on Layla, in a mixture of bitter resentment and skepticism, as his eyes reflected the dancing flames of the campfire that glowed nearby.

  Layla, clearly uncomfortable, was making every effort to avert her gaze and avoid the silent, aggressive inquisition she now found herself to be the unwitting victim of. "Well, think you can stop it already? It's starting to creep me the hell out."

  "I'm just... I'm just trying to figure out what's really going on with you here. I mean, no one just wakes up and is suddenly that lucky."

  "Honestly, Layla, can you blame him for thinking that way?" The girl sitting next to James chimed in, voicing her support of the interrogation, through a thick, but clearly Americanized British accent, "I mean, come on... You kept... this... from all of us!"

  "I..." Layla stammered to find the words to aid in her defense, "I've been completely honest and open the whole time... This?... This is nothing... I didn't hide anything from any of you!"

  "Yeah, you did. And especially after what happened the last time we were out on a dig like this...?" the voice of the other girl seemed quick in cutting Layla off and firing back an accusatory response. "Remember? That Zuni site bullshit in Arizona?"

  "Yeah, I gotta say," James continued the tactical assault of their classmate's character. He had begun to straighten his posture, in that cocky-confident sort of way, only too happy to be receiving the unsolicited support, "this is starting to feel a hell of a lot like the last time."

  "Oh, come off it! It doesn't even matter. You know she hasn't got a bloody thing," the girl exploded, calling out Layla on her obvious deception. Increasingly irate, she leaped to her feet, knocking over the folding camping chair as she does, before continuing, "just that one, worthless card to play... That's it!"

  "Guys... I swear, there's more going on here with me than just that," Layla knew that pleading her case at this point was of no use. Still, she had no intention of letting them gang up on her without at least attempting to fight her way out. "But if you really think you can stand in my way, be my guest."

  "This is so stupid! She's lying!" James made no effort to hide his opinion that this was enough, as, by all acco
unts, he figured he had her cornered. "You're a terrible liar... I had you figured out back then, too. I just didn't have the proof."

  "Oh, okay..." Layla let out a nervous chuckle and extended her hands in the universal symbol of dude, calm the hell down. "First, blink," Layla continued, brow furrowed, squinting in clear annoyance. "Second, you really think so, Sport? Okay, fine then... prove it now..."

  Layla crossed her arms, and sat back down, hoping to exude some sense of confidence. James just paused, continuing to stare at her with an intensity that was very clearly beginning to make her feel even more uncomfortable than she already did. The other girl sat back as well, to observe the unfolding showdown, seemingly just as anxious to see her own suspicions either confirmed or denied. Knowing there wasn't really anything else she could very well do either at this point.

  Never breaking his intense gaze, James leaned forward. Clenched tightly in the right hand, he already knew what he needed to do.

  Hesitating, only for an instant, he slammed his hand down, rocking the unsteady foundation of the red and white Igloo ice chest, as the contents inside slosh violently with the disturbance. Slowly, he lifted his hand, revealing a pile of crumpled Guatemalan bills, and a carelessly piled stack of discarded playing cards. To be more precise, cards from a very long, and drawn-out game of UNO. And there, right on top of the discard pile, was the card James had just played.

  A wild card.

  Eyes locked on Layla's, he carefully enunciated one, impassioned word, through clenched teeth. "Red."

  Layla looked back down at the haphazard stack of upturned cards, then back to the single card still tightly gripped in her own hand. She furrowed her brow again, and frowned a bit, before saying, "Hmm... Red? You sure?" Layla didn't wait for a response. Instead, she simply extended her hand, as a smirk slowly crept across her blank expression, and delicately, purposefully, laid down the remaining card.

  Red 4.

  With mocking intensity, she sat back in her seat, waiting for her victory to sink in for James and the other student. A moment later, both of them in unison collapsed, defeated, into their own camping chairs, arranged around the makeshift, ice chest card table, groaning and throwing their own remaining cards down in not so silent rage.

  "Dammit!" Becca, the girl to Layla's left, wearing a t-shirt bearing a multicolored Legend of Zelda Triforce logo, with short, brunette hair, and pronounced British accent, exclaimed, in marked frustration, "James, you are such bullshit at this... 'UUUuugh, look at me, I'm James... I got Layla all figured out!'" she repeated, in mocking condescension, before punctuating the whole thing, by muttering under her breath, "sodding idiot."

  James, continuing to do his best to conceal his obvious frustration and embarrassment at his repeated miscalculation, immediately took to downplaying the tragic loss. "Look, whatever... this game's stupid, and... just... It's your turn to shuffle, anyway!" Angrily, he shoved the cards in Becca's direction, who rolled her eyes and began to shuffle the multicolored deck of cards, sighing, with a renewed sense of disinterest. Going through the motions. Something to help in passing the time, while they all just... waited.

  Meanwhile, Layla, who was no longer smiling with the same smug self-satisfaction, scooped up the pile of crumpled quetzales and, standing up, made an awkward motion to leave the pair to their game. "I'm out! After all, how much more money can I take from you clowns?"

  "Look, whatever... we're done with your cheating ass anyway!" James fired back, his caddy tone accentuating underlying unrest. "Lainie! You wanna deal in? We need a third!"

  Upon James's invitation, a mousey, olive complected girl, peered meekly from behind thick-rimmed glasses, and a large book of Mayan folklore. "Huh?... I... uh... I've never played... before."

  "It's not hard," Becca worked hard to sound supportive, though, in reality, she probably just wanted the opportunity to earn back some of the money she just lost to Layla, "don't worry, love. We'll talk you through it."

  Hearing the vibrant conversation of her peers begin to fade behind her, Layla sidestepped tents and scattered packs and belongings, making her way among the glow of the small, illuminated tent city in the middle of the verdant jungle, coming to stop at her own temporary, portable dwelling. Smirking, she stuffed her modest winnings into her pack, and, with a deep and exhausted sigh, took a swig off her teal Hydro Flask, and thought about turning in for the night. The game, after all, had long since lost its appeal, anyway.

  It had been like this over the past five days, for the small, rag-tag confederation of grad students, invited by Dr. Ruiz on this mysterious and ambitious archaeological excavation. His investigation into the location of a lost Mayan city. A place called Chi Ubah Kan, somewhere deep in the jungles of Northern Guatemala.

  The end of another long day and tensions remained as high as ever. All would agree that perhaps they should have called it a night by now. Get some well-deserved rest and prepare for the next day. And hope against all evidence to the contrary that that new day might be any different. Though that was obviously the smarter choice to be made, nearly the entire team could instead be found gathered around the cooler, sitting in fold-out chairs, in the sharp, piercing glow of the campfire and LED lantern light. Chatting and laughing, over bottled water, Mexican Coca-Cola, and instant ramen noodles, painstakingly heated with water from the tiny shared propane camping stove. And gambling away whatever paltry foreign currency they still had on their person. The makeshift ice chest UNO tournament was championed by James, of course, who was running the table with the same voracity and showmanship as a seasoned casino dealer.

  This was their daily routine. Sleeping and decompressing after sundown. Building energy to get up, and hike farther through the Guatemalan jungle, searching for an archaeological find that they all wanted their names on. A lost city, fueled by Dr. Ruiz's research, though truly, none of them even knew if it really even existed in the first place.

  At first, Layla had considered herself lucky to be a part of all this. An amazing opportunity for academically. After her incredible discovery of the Hopi Pueblo site three weeks ago, Ruiz clearly saw some sort of untapped potential within her as a grad student. It genuinely caught her off guard, and she wanted to be more excited than she was, but for some reason, the whole thing made her feel... uneasy. Especially since his invitation came seemingly out of thin air. And the resentment over this fact from the rest of the team was certainly hard to miss. Nearest Layla could figure, Ruiz must have been impressed by her unique instincts on that project. Why else would he have brought her in at the last minute as he did? Of course, Layla couldn't tell him, or the rest of the team the truth of her knowledge. She couldn't tell them that what she possesses was far more than just "instinct."

  They'd arrived by tiny airbus at Mundo Maya International Airport nearly a week ago, and quickly bid goodbye to civilization, trekking and camping deep into the jungle, dodging huge spiders, jaguars, and, of course, tons of snakes. Guided only by coordinates, a survey grid, and their combined, blind hope. And in all that time, Layla hadn't gotten so much as a slightly warm tingle of anything buried beneath their tired, blistering feet. But still, they held on to the excitement and the mystique of the whole endeavor. Hoping to stumble across... something, to make it all feel worth it. Though, wondering all the while, if Dr. Ruiz's research hunches held any weight at all, or if this was all just a fool's errand.

  Truly exhausted, Layla leaned hard, resting her head and hand on the frame of her tent, hesitating to go inside. Wondering if it would even be worth it. She sighed, exasperated, as looking over her shoulder, she eyed another brightly lit tent at the other side of the clearing. Away from social commotion, gambling, and merriment. Set off, and sequestered.

  Dr. Ruiz's tent.

  Chapter 5

  More Questions, Little Answers

  The visage of her advisor's glowing tent loomed before Layla, an ominous beacon of both authority and uncertainty. With a hand resting on the viney trunk of a nearby branch, she
weighed the pros and cons of entering and intruding on Dr. Ruiz's self-imposed exile. The man could tend to be a bit overbearing and temperamental when it came to his students, and with the expedition doing as poorly as it has been, he was likely to be in a foul and irredeemably bitter mood tonight. Still, Layla found herself inexplicably drawn to the tent, and suddenly possessed the strong desire to confront him. About the project. About his reasons for selecting her. About everything. And then there was the feeling that, with what she knew she could do, and what her abilities were capable of detecting, that maybe, she could somehow figure out a way of reasoning with him, and in turn, could end up do significantly more to aid the expedition itself. Maybe even help speed things along. For the team. For herself...

  But while looping around all these thoughts, and before she was able to convince herself into changing her mind, Layla returned to reality, to find her hand resting on the flap of Dr. Ruiz's tent. The condensation from the humidity and the night air made the surface feel slick and cold within her tight grasp, as her heart raced, and she rallied her nerve to push forward. With one last deep, centering breath, her resolve solidified, and, finally, she stepped inside.

  As Layla lifted the damp nylon flap, she examined the interior of the tent and found a set-up that was not at all what she expected to see. Maps, photos, and print-outs, spread over every surface, taped to the walls, circled, and marked up in the margins, with notes and ramblings in a clearly rushed hand. A clear display of desperation merged with haphazard obsession.