The strange force that had beckoned her through the jungle, to this clearing. No, to something buried beneath this clearing. It was just gone. That never just happened. Layla was sure she'd felt it when she came out of the trees. When the stars and the cliff had opened up before her. But after everything that had happened, the incident with the statue and the cliff and Ruiz had wholly dominated her mental faculties. In truth, Layla couldn't say for sure when the feeling left her. It had certainly never done that before. Dead things, buried beneath the ground didn't move! The didn't disappear. Something like this wasn't supposed to happen. Layla shook her head, and chalked it up to exhaustion, deciding it was probably not best to bring attention to all that, especially after everything else that had already happened. Still, she couldn't quite seem to shake that feeling of fear and uncertainty.
Dr. Ruiz, on the other hand, was filled with excitement and a kind of childlike wonder Layla didn't know the man was even capable of! Holding close the lantern, and pushing aside the constricting tendrils of vines, he poured over ever etched line, every hieroglyph, mumbling to himself in exciting tones every so often. Layla tuned most of it out. She just wanted to go back to the tents.
"Miss Marin! I said you wouldn't happen to have a notebook in that filthy pack of yours, would you?"
In all the chaos, Layla had actually forgotten she even had her pack on. "Umm... maybe?" She said, with uncertainty, as she slung it off one shoulder and unzipped it. Rummaging through the contents, she fished out her red notebook and placed it and a pencil into Ruiz's waiting hand. "So, what's the notebook for?"
"I want to take some notes and sketch out some of these inscriptions... fascinating!..." He brushed aside some leaves and caked-on dirt to reveal a series of carvings and hieroglyphs, attempting to draw Layla's attention to them. "Miss Marin, tell me... What do you see here?"
Layla stepped forward and mechanically ran her fingers over the recessed lines and circles. "Umm... some sort of... numbering... system? A calendar, maybe? I dunno."
Ruiz rolled his eyes. "Honestly, could you please pay attention in my lectures, for a single moment?" He proceeded to nudge Layla out of the way, making room on the edge of the statue for the notebook. "See? This one here... this is Eltanin... that's Thuban... And this one?... Edasich..." Layla was certain that her blank expression had betrayed that she had absolutely no idea what Ruiz was talking about. He exhaled deeply, the building frustration apparent in his terse demeanor. "Stars, Miss Marin... They are stars. A constellation, to be more precise. You'd probably know it as Draco, the dragon constellation, but to the Mayans, these stars were closely tied to this serpent deity, Kukulkan. They would painstakingly track its position along the horizon, its proximity to the Milky Way, and..." he excitedly pointed along with the markings, "it appears they also built their major cities based upon their locations as well! See, this?... This hieroglyph represents Chichen Itza. Here's Palenque. And this one is... Tikal?... Yes, Tikal..." He scribbled feverishly into the notebook as he rattled off locations and observations. He seemed desperate to leave no information undocumented. As if he feared the giant stone feathered serpent was going to come to life at any moment and slither away. Back to the underworld.
"Wait, so..." against all her better judgment, Layla finally spoke up, interrupting her advisor's manic train of thought, "what do any of these cities have to do with the constellation Draco?"
"Miss Marin, I honestly don't know how it is you stumbled across this place, but tell me, do you think that the placement of a statue of this size was random? Do you think that it's just a coincidence that the sky is completely visible from atop this cliff? This cliff, that overlooks the entire valley below?"
Layla took a moment to look out again over the star-filled vista, "I... suppose not...?"
Ruiz pointed forcefully to the hieroglyphic inscriptions on the stone statue, "Right here... see that?... This inscription refers to Chi Ubah Kan as being in the mouth of the War Serpent, which would put it... ah, here!... yes, right here, in relation to the rest of Draco!..."
Layla grabbed the red notebook as Ruiz carelessly handed it back to her, and stuffed it carefully back into her pack. She was still more than a little hung up on the words "War Serpent", before sling the entire pack over her shoulder once more. "So... Dr. Ruiz, what exactly are you saying?"
Ruiz ran an absentminded hand over the flood of markings covering the massive statue and smiled, knowingly. "What I'm saying, my dear Miss Marin, is that this statue... this is the key I've been looking for! What I'm saying is that, with this information, and these new inscriptions and markings, now I know beyond a shadow of a doubt we are on the right track. What I'm saying is... I can find Chi Ubah Kan!"
Chapter 8
In the Middle of the Delusion
Dark and deep, the thick trees which surrounded on all sides, held fast to their secrets. The late morning sun was straining behind still darkened clouds. Doing it's best to dry up the rain from the night before. A deluge, which had more than saturated the soil, and succeeded in coating every surface with gathering water droplets, and a visible sheen, casting already slate gray forest in a sickly oppressive glare.
Layla couldn't stand the thought of being out here another day. What had once been her sanctuary, was now, only a place where darkness and decay seemed to consume every corner. Guaranteeing no more adventures. No more freedom. She sighed, and held back for an instant, clutching tight the trunk of a dripping birch tree, and shunning her eyes from the light, and the cold, sad truths that would now and forevermore embody her woods.
A hand placed on her shoulder disturbed her brooding solitude and caused her to look up once more. Her youthful, streaked face met the sympathetic gaze of the officer, one of many, wearing a Klamath County Sheriff's badge, as he removed his hat protected in plastic, and attempted to reassure the distraught child. "Layla, I know it's is hard. I don't wanna be out here either, but... you have to keep going," he said, compassion more than apparent in his tone, "we need you to do this. Those people? They need you to see this through." There was certainly a level of sincerity in his voice. Layla couldn't deny that. However, it was very clear to her from his words that she had little said in the matter. She exhaled deeply, and pushed off of the tree, leaving the officers behind, and leading the party deeper into the cold, damp wilderness.
As the time dragged on, and as less and less sunlight was permitted to pierce the forest canopy, the search team of police officers took to relying on flashlights to see where they were going. Layla didn't need a flashlight. She still knew these woods, with unwavering certainty. They just didn't belong to her anymore. She watched as a steady drizzle of rain had resumed in oppressively pummeling them. Layla could see it highlighted in every dancing beam of light that came from behind. She shivered, and pulled her slick blue windbreaker tight around her, though it was hardly successful in keeping her dry. The water clung to and dripped slowly down her blonde bangs, which hung in her eyes, causing her lips to tremble, and making it even harder to see beyond the dense stands of trees. Yet, despite all this, despite the damp chill that persistently hung in the air, and despite the increasing feelings of fear and reluctance, Layla refused to stop. Not until they were done. Not until they found what they were looking for. She couldn't stop, because, more than anything, she just wanted it to be over. To be finished. And as long as they were still searching, it never would be.
The party pressed on. Deeper into the woods. Following a nine-year-old girl. Following just another hunch. Another person's blind hope. Not Layla's. Never Layla's.
The young girl looked up, wordlessly, to the gray tree canopy that hung above. Searching for the vibrant hues of life she knew weren't there. Just darkness. She clenched her eyes tight and fought the urge to run away. To run home. Anxiously grasping the back of her neck now, Layla made every effort to slow her increasingly panicked breathing. She thought of the Hillary, and of her mother. She remembered a song her mother used to sing to her when she couldn
't sleep.
Five little ducks went out to play,
Over the hill and far away.
Mother duck said, "Quack, quack, quack, quack,"
But only four little ducks came back...
Layla brushed the dripping locks of hair out of her eyes and behind her ear, and turned her gaze upward, as the gray sky opened up.
The torrential rain was falling straight through the trees now, showering the group in a steady curtain of moisture that seemed to block out all other sounds. Layla still walked on, shivering, but unphased. And though the stinging rain pummeled her cheeks relentlessly, and nearly blinded her. Though each breath now hangs in the frigid air in front of her. She kept moving forward. Kept moving, because despite being chilled to the bone, Layla found she was getting warmer and warmer by the second. That strange, familiar warmth that drew her towards the truth, and could only mean one thing.
And then, she just stopped.
Layla rigidly stood, unmoving and unfeeling. She blinked, lazily, and looked down at her pink tennis shoes, caked in mud, and stained a sickly tinge of brown. As she looked, the pale, washed-out red and gold bands of a kingsnake slithered over the tops of her shoes. Layla froze, despite its behavior feeling a bit strange, and its appearance in this setting seems out of place. It looked back in Layla's direction and locked on her gaze for a long moment, before winding its way into a burrow at the base of a dead tree, and out of sight. No one else seemed to notice this intruder, and in a moment, Layla's mind, too, was back in the moment, dismissing the snake from her thoughts. She could, however, hear the hushed scramble of feet from behind her, and a flurry of scattering flashlight beams, as the search party behind her had noticed the hesitation.
Layla was still dripping wet and shivering, but no longer from the cold. She felt warm again, though there was little comfort in this for her. This was a familiar warmth, that slowly wound its way up her small frame, and coiled itself around her, refusing to let go.
Layla removed a hand from the pocket of her jacket, and slowly pointed downward, to the soil beneath her feet. In an instant, a woman broke from the search pack behind her, screaming, frantically, "David?! Is it David, my little boy?!" Layla said nothing, but stepped back, as the sheriff whom she'd spoken with earlier grasped her by the shoulders, protectively. The woman lunged forward and began desperately clawing at the muddy soil, as the relentless rain rendered her efforts futile. Two or three men were trying their best to hold onto her and pull her back up off the ground, as she angrily waved them off. All the while sobbing uncontrollably.
The whole scene made Layla feel sick, and she clenched her eyes shut, and turned into the sheriff, searching for an escape. The man did the best he could to reassure the child, though hid sad eyes betrayed his real emotions. "You... You did a good thing here today, Layla. That woman can finally lay her son to rest and move on with her life. Her, and the two families before her... they owe you a lot. I know it doesn't feel like it, but you have a gift. I don't even rightly understand it myself, but you're helping people, Layla. You're helping people."
To Layla, it didn't feel like it. All she saw was a string of sorrow and death. All in her wake. All because of what she could do. And no matter what all this was putting her through, no matter how much she might have wanted to shout it to the trees that surrounded her, she couldn't seem to find it in her to tell them no. After all, how could she?
Chapter 9
No Time to Waste
Layla didn't sleep soundly all night. The dreams wouldn't allow her to. She was finding it was becoming increasingly more and more difficult to piece apart the bits that were just dreams from those she knew were from her own messed-up childhood memories. She'd been trying to run away from all that for so long, she didn't even really know anymore, herself. It didn't matter, she supposed. But between the painful dreams, one moment, and the torrent of images of monstrous snake beasts and black dogs that flooded her consciousness every other moment, any sleep she had managed to get over the course of the tumultuous evening was far from what anyone would consider restful.
Layla sighed, staring blankly at the wall of her tent. Watching it slowly turned from black to blue, blue to gray, gray to gold. As the ever-living and visceral unseen noises of the jungle night were replaced by a mixture of muggy humidity, the drip, drip, drip of dew, which had collected on the outside of her tent, as well as nearly every external surface, and the strange, multi-tonal calls of tropical birds and howler monkeys that Layla knew she would never get used to, and never bother to learn the real names of. She yawned blinked the sleep from her eyes and wondered quietly to herself if her colleagues had also begun to stir yet. If anyone else was even listening to this orchestral gradient transition of Guatemalan jungle life. Layla soon discovered she didn't have to wait long to find out.
"Alright, team! Alejandro should be here any minute to make the drop! Then we gotta cover a lot of ground, so, up, up, up!"
Dr. Ruiz was clearly in a more cheerful mood--well, cheerful for Dr. Ruiz, at least--due in no small part to last night's crucial discovery, and was anxious to get going and confirm his suspicions. Still, she could almost sense the groans that were surely coming from the other tents, at this incessantly enthusiastic wake-up call.
Layla yawned again sleepily and ran a hand through her messy blond hair, more than a little frizzed from the humidity and lack of regular running water. She sighed and began the relatively involved process of making herself decent enough for a sweaty, relentless trek through the tropical jungle, which in and of itself was the easy part, followed by the annoying task of rounding up everything into her hiking pack, to make sure it all fit and nothing got left behind. Though the tiny one-person tent provided little in the way of privacy, still, Layla made the best of what she had to work with. It was as she was pulling on her ripped jeans and simultaneously brushing her teeth, that Layla heard the roaring engine of the school bus yellow Jeep 4x4, as it bounded down the road and up towards the campsite, accompanied by another all to a familiar sound, growing progressively even louder than the engine itself.
"... Oh, baby, baby, how was I supposed to know, that something wasn't right here? Oh, baby, baby, I shouldn't have let you go, and now you're out of sight, yeah..."
The nasal, poppy voice of Britney Spears reverberated through the trees from the oncoming Jeep's tinny speakers. Accompanied by the off-key accompaniment of a heavily Hispanic-accented man, who was enthusiastically hitting at least every word of the song with practiced perfection.
Layla peeked her head out to see Dr. Ruiz, clearly unphased by the boisterous entrance, walking up to greet the vehicle, "Ah, Alejandro! Right on time! Now, we've got a lot of surveying to get to today. Do you need any help unloading, or..."
"... My loneliness is killing me (AND I!), I must confess, I still believe (STILL BELIEVE!)..."
"Alejandro! I don't mean to interrupt, but we really have to get going, so if you could just..."
"... give me a sign!!...."
"ALEJANDRO!!" Clearly having had enough of the impromptu concert, Ruiz had climbed into the passenger seat of the now idling vehicle and removed the keys from the ignition, causing the Jeep and its radio to sputter to silence.
"... HIT ME, BABY, ONE MORE TIME!!"
Dr. Ruiz stroked his forehead in annoyance, as he glowered at the stocky, smiling man with the goatee that was climbing down from the cab to excitedly greet him. "Really, Alejandro... every time? Must we do this every time?"
The man, Alejandro, having realized the vehicle, along with is musical accompaniment were silent, made a motion to respond, his smile never faltering, either failing to notice or choosing to ignore the professor's rising annoyance level. "Senior Ruiz, that woman--Seniorita Britney--she has... come see dice... the voice of an angel! She is a national treasure! For the life of me, I do not know why your country ever let her go!"
"Fads change," Dr. Ruiz's eye roll and curt tone gave the distinct impression that he was not in any mood to get caug
ht up in any sort of debate, clearly similar to one he'd probably been roped into with this man before, "Look, did you at least bring all of the supplies I asked for last time?"
"Senior Ruiz, please... I am a professional! It's all in the back of my baby back there." Alejandro was gesturing with great pride to the muddy yellow Jeep, parked a few meters back behind them.
"That's all you had to say! Now down to business... I trust your rate's the same?" Ruiz pulled a roll of Guatemalan bills from his pocket and handed several off to the man for the delivery.
"Gracias, Senior Ruiz. Yes, that should do just fine," Alejandro greedily grabbed the money, as it vanished in an instant into his front shirt pocket, "I trust you'll be needing a re-supply run in three days again?"
"Yes, but our estimated location for the new campsite will have changed by a few clicks from your previous instructions. Here, let me show you," Dr. Ruiz retrieved a map from his pack and unfolding it, spread it out over the hood of the car. As he circled and drew a series of calculated X's, he didn't even bother looking up before shouting, "Okay, team! Let's load up! Grab what you can carry from the back of the Jeep, and for God's sake, please make sure you fill all the way up on water this time? This has to last us three days, " his tone shifted, yet again, this time in the direction of Layla's tent, causing her stomach to instantly drop, "Miss Marin, if you're well-rested enough and done rudely gawking at the two of us, maybe you'd like to join your team as well?"
Layla recoiled a bit out of embarrassment. True enough, through her panning vantage from the tent flap, it was clear that everyone else was indeed nearly packed and ready to go. She could see the other students were already taking turns heading for Jeep to supply-up. The smug grin of James was the last image Layla was willing to put up with, before she closed the flap with a huff, and hurriedly scrambled to pack-up the remainder of her own belongings.
The Dark Spirits Beneath Page 5