by Peter Vegas
He stopped, turned the light on again, and inspected the riverbank. Nothing, just more rock. He put the flashlight away and repeated the procedure. He did this three more times.
All he saw was a rock wall.
Frustrated and tired, Sam turned and began the uncomfortable process all over again. He hadn’t checked his phone, but he knew he’d be lucky to get back to Mary in time. To speed up his escape from the wall of vines, he didn’t bother to check his progress with the flashlight—he kept pushing and squeezing along the riverbank by feel.
That decision saved him.
Sam had almost extracted himself from the vines. He could tell, even without light, because he could feel them getting thinner. But as he heard the sound of the engine, he suddenly wished he were back behind the thickest ones.
If it had been a big boat roaring up the river, Sam wouldn’t have been as worried, but this was a small engine, and it was slowing down.
Sam dropped to his knees and felt the water soak through his pants, but he didn’t care. He peered out through the vines trying to spot the approaching boat, but all he could see was blackness.
The rumble of the engine grew until Sam was sure it was heading right for him. Then, between the vines, he caught a glimpse of movement. Something small and dark slid past just a few feet away.
It was a Jet Ski.
Sam listened to the guttural chugging of the small craft as it passed his hiding spot. He stared at the source of the noise as if he could see it. Suddenly, a thin beam of light shot from the Jet Ski to the riverbank. Sam ducked his head and waited for the light to swing toward him, but it didn’t. When he looked up, the light was still aimed directly at the riverbank, at a spot Sam had walked past. It was centered on one of the huge, round boulders. Just as quickly, there was darkness again. The Jet Ski roared to life; water churned and the craft raced off down toward the jetty.
Sam slid out from behind the vines. With his hand on the riverbank to guide him, he moved as fast as he could in the pitch dark. His heart was racing. The visitor had made him even later, but that wasn’t what he was thinking about. Whoever had been on the Jet Ski had gone to one specific spot, and Sam knew it had to be the entrance to the chamber.
He stumbled on through the mud, stopping to listen to the fading sounds of the Jet Ski. Finally, he couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled out his flashlight and aimed it at the rock wall. The boulder was a few feet away. Sam ran his hands over the smooth stone. Could this really be the entrance to the tomb? Hiding it behind vines made a lot more sense. But maybe not. Perhaps, Sam thought, the best way to hide the entrance was to have it in plain sight. This boulder was one of a dozen exactly like it. If the Jet Ski rider hadn’t singled it out, he might have walked right past it. He had walked right past it.
Sam stopped and listened for the Jet Ski. The river was silent, but he turned off his flashlight anyway. On the exposed bank, he could easily be spotted from both directions. Standing in front of the boulder, he ran his hands around the edge of it. In the darkness, his sense of touch compensated for his lack of vision. He felt the seam where the boulder stuck out from the wall. It was a perfect fit. On the right-hand side, his fingers detected a circular indentation in the smooth rock face. It was so slight Sam would never have seen it, but now, in the dark, he felt the button-sized imperfection. He pushed and heard a click. Sliding his hand down, he felt a small rectangular hole, and inside was a keypad.
Before he had time to celebrate his discovery, Sam’s phone vibrated. He didn’t bother checking it. He knew it was Mary telling him to hurry. He pushed the hidden button, and the keypad disappeared again, leaving smooth rock under his hand. Now he made one quick sweep of the area with his flashlight to make sure he could find the boulder again; then he raced back along the riverbank.
Sam used his flashlight once more, to find the path back up the wall. He considered following the river all the way to the jetty to meet up with the group, but now that there was a Jet Ski out there, he didn’t want to risk it.
Once he had made it to the top of the bank, Sam started using his flashlight properly again. He had no choice; the bush was so dense there was no way he could have found his way back to the Temple of the Mask. Even with light, it was tough going. He breathed a sigh of relief when he finally stumbled out onto the cut grass, but he still had a long way to go.
He sprinted across the paddock and onto the path that that led to the BBQ area. It was wide and easy to follow, and his mind drifted to the next move for Mary and him. Maybe they didn’t need to head back to Orange Walk with the tour. They could sneak off and sleep in Lamanai, and then explore the entrance to the chamber at sunrise, before anyone arrived.
Sam was still thinking this plan through when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket again. It would be another hurry up from Mary. There was no time to stop, but he knew he should reply. He had passed the fork in the track and knew the BBQ area was just ahead.
He pulled out his phone and the screen lit up. Sure enough he saw a four-word text—WHERE ARE YOU? HURRY! That was the old message. The new one was longer and harder to read. Sam got halfway through and skidded to a stop. AZEEM IS HERE! GO TO THE JETTY! NOT THE BBQ!!!!
The first thing Sam did was turn off his flashlight. He stood in the dark, fighting to calm his heavy breathing. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he made out the glow of the lights around the BBQ area up ahead. He listened intently for sounds of people but heard only the ever-present howler monkeys. At least, he thought, their noise would have drowned out the sound of his approach.
Sam knew it had to have been Azeem on the Jet Ski. He’d been foolish to think they’d gotten rid of the man so easily.
Still watching the track ahead for signs of life, Sam began to walk backward. He’d head back to the fork in the track and follow the other path to the jetty. The boat would wait, Mary would make sure of that. There was no question of them remaining in Lamanai now.
The sharp snap of a branch made Sam spin and raise his flashlight. He was about to turn it on but stopped himself. Instead, he dropped to his knees and waited. There was another breaking branch, a loud squeal, and something scampered off through the undergrowth.
Sam got back to his feet and checked back toward the BBQ area one last time. As he did, the forest around him turned from night to day, the path and the trees on either side transformed into a vivid yellow. The source was coming from behind him, and instinctively Sam spun around. Even as he did, he knew it was a mistake. The beam of light hit him in the face, blinding him. He threw an arm up to cover his eyes, but the damage was done. Even with his eyes tightly shut, he could see the glowing yellow orb caused by the glow of the powerful flashlight.
“Stop, boy,” said a familiar voice.
Sam felt the glow of the light fade away, and when he opened his eyes, he could see it had been pointed into the bush. Through squinting eyes, he made out the shape of a man stepping out from behind a tree.
“Hello, Sam,” Azeem sneered. “We meet again.”
Sam dropped his head, rubbed his eyes, and began to sob hysterically.
Azeem laughed. “Not so cocky now, are you, my friend? Mr. Ramos is going to be very pleased I found you. You have caused him a lot of problems.”
“Please don’t,” Sam blurted. “Please . . . I’ll tell you the location of the other two treasure sites. Just let me go.”
“There are no other sites,” Azeem said, but he sounded unsure.
“There are,” Sam sobbed. “Here, I can show you.” He slipped the backpack off his shoulders. His vision was returning now. He could see Azeem was alone and unarmed.
“What are you doing?” the man asked, taking a step onto the track.
“The map, it’s in here. I can give it to you,” Sam insisted. He added a few more sobs for effect as he dug through the bag. His fingers wrapped around the object he’d been looking for.
“Throw it here,” Azeem insisted.
Sam pulled his hand from his backpac
k, but in the time Azeem took to register that it wasn’t a map, Sam had pointed the juice bottle at his face and squeezed. The jet of orange liquid hit Azeem in the eyes, and it was his turn to throw an arm to his face. It was too late; the liquid was all over him. The man roared as he swung the beam of the flashlight back to Sam, but the boy had gone.
“You will pay for that,” Azeem screamed as he wiped the juice from his face. “You can’t hide from me. I know this place like the back of my hand.”
A few feet away, Sam crouched behind the trunk of a palm. Azeem was right. He couldn’t hide from him. His plan was to run, but he needed some help. He waited while the Scar-Faced Man paced up and down, calling out to Sam.
The plan had come to him the moment he had been caught. The blubbering and offer to hand over a map to the treasure were just delaying tactics. In Sam’s mind, his plan was foolproof. He had witnessed the effect of the juice on the bread; surely it would work on a human.
But it wasn’t. Azeem was out on the path unscathed. “I’m going to find you,” he roared. “And you will be sorry.”
The bush went silent, and Sam watched the high-powered beam of Azeem’s flashlight swinging around toward the palm. Suddenly, he heard the fluttering of hundreds of pairs of wings as they swept through the forest. The noise grew until it was more like the roar of a wave. The beam of light suddenly tilted up, and Sam heard a cry as the first of the tiny juice-hungry mouths fell on their new meal.
There was no way of knowing how long Azeem would be held up by this new development, so Sam broke for cover. He leapt out onto the path and sprinted for the fork in the track. As he ran, he listened for signs that Azeem was coming after him, but all he heard were the screams of man under attack by a hundred sets of fangs.
The forest swallowed the cries of anguish as Sam put distance between him and Azeem. He turned on his flashlight and increased his pace. A few minutes later, he spotted the lights of the jetty ahead.
Mary was standing on the edge of the group, watching the path, and she must have spotted Sam’s light bouncing through the dark. She lifted her flashlight and aimed it directly into his face, but Sam was ready for it and lowered his head as he ran up to her.
“What happened? You look terrible,” she exclaimed.
Looking down at his shirt, Sam agreed. He was covered in mud from his time on the riverbank.
“Did he find you?” Mary asked.
Sam nodded. “It’s okay. I gave him the slip, but we need to get out of here.”
Mary glanced back up the path, which made Sam spin and do the same. All they saw was blackness.
Mary grabbed Sam’s arm. “The boat is ready to go,” she said, leading him toward the jetty. “Everybody’s on board. They were about to leave without us.”
“Who are all these people?” Sam asked as the group of tourists stared at the mud-covered boy who had just run out of the bush.
“Another group,” Mary replied. “Their boat is on . . .” She was cut off by a shout from someone in the crowd.
Sam saw a head of red hair pushing through the crowd and rolled his eyes. “That’s just what we need. Come on!” he said to Mary, taking the lead and grabbing her arm.
“What’s wrong?” Mary asked as they pushed through the people.
Before Sam could answer, the red-haired boy behind them did. “That guy stole my Slayers of Mayhem T-shirt,” he cried out. “Stop him!”
Sam and Mary clattered onto the jetty. Their boat was easy to spot. It was the one at the far end, full of grumpy tourists. They ran toward it and were greeted by calls of “You’re late” and “About time.” The red-haired boy screamed out again, “Stop him!”
That’s when Sam saw the security guard. The man had been talking to their tour guide but now took a keen interest in the two kids running toward him.
Sam looked back to see the Slayer of Mayhem fan already on the jetty behind them.
“Follow me,” Sam said to Mary. He turned and began walking back toward the angry boy. As he did, he held up his hands. “Hey, look, I’m really sorry about this. I can explain.”
The boy’s face was almost as red as his hair as he huffed and puffed along the jetty.
“No way, man!” he screamed. “You took my stuff! My parents are mad. You’re in big trouble!”
Sam slowed to a shuffle as the gap between them closed. His shoulders slumped in a show of total defeat. The boy began to laugh. “Yeah, that’s right. Big trouble. You need to arrest this guy,” he called out to the security guard. As they came together, the boy stuck out a pudgy hand to grab Sam, but Sam moved faster. He thrust his arms out and shoved the boy off the jetty.
A piercing scream erupted from the middle of the crowd on shore as the boy’s mum saw her darling hit the water. Mary gaped at Sam, but he grabbed her and pulled her back toward land.
“This way,” he shouted.
At the point where the jetty met the land they jumped off and ran down the narrow, sandy beach. Angry yells, hysterical sobbing, and splashing filled the night behind them.
“Hurry,” Sam urged as he turned to make sure Mary was following.
“Where are we going?”
“There!” Sam pointed at the small black blob sitting at the water’s edge ahead.
“How did you know about that?” Mary asked.
The answer was, he didn’t. When he hadn’t seen the Jet Ski at the jetty, Sam guessed that Azeem had parked it away from prying eyes. The run down the beach had been a gamble, and it had paid off.
Sam stopped in front of the Jet Ski and pushed it out into the river. His feet dug into the sand and panic welled up as he heard an angry mob coming down the beach. Fighting the urge to look, he focused on freeing the Jet Ski.
Finally, the hull slid into the water, and the craft became weightless. Sam spun it around and leapt on. Mary was right behind him. Everything would have ended in disaster if the key hadn’t been in, but it was. Sam switched the engine on. The machine roared to life, and they powered out into the river and the cover of darkness.
21
NO FRIENDS
THE SOUND OF THE ANGRY crowd on the beach drifted out to them. Sam steered the Jet Ski into the center of the river, then swung around to the left and began heading back to Orange Walk.
“Well, that was unexpected,” Mary said over his shoulder.
Sam could only nod. His heart was racing, and the exertion had left him panting as if he’d run a race. Only the sound of the engine drowned out his heavy breathing.
“How did you know you’d be able to start it?” Mary asked.
Sam pointed to the wristband on the end of the rubber cord hanging off the key in the ignition. “Azeem wasn’t wearing that,” he said. “So I was hoping that meant he’d left the key in the ignition.”
“So he got close to you?”
Sam nodded. “Real close.”
“So what now?”
“I found the entrance to the chamber,” Sam said.
“That’s great.”
“I was hoping we could hide out at Lamanai and check it out, but we’ve blown that.”
“We should go back to our hideout,” Mary said. “Wait for things to cool down.”
Sam peered ahead. The clouds had cleared and there was just enough moonlight to navigate. He kept the speed up until the river began to narrow. He could sense rather than see the jungle on each side, but as they slowed, the sounds of the wildlife drifted across the water to them. Sam drifted in toward the shore until he could make out individual trees.
“What are you doing?” Mary asked. “Our tour boat won’t be far behind.”
“I know,” Sam said as he studied the shoreline. “That’s what I’m worried about.”
Minutes ticked by. As he searched, Sam kept an ear tuned for the sound of an approaching boat. He had to find the right spot fast or cut his losses and keep going. He gave himself one more minute and just as time was up, he located the perfect spot. He’d been looking for a small inlet. On the tri
p to Lamanai, they had passed plenty, but there were none on this section of the river. What he did find was a huge tree trunk that had fallen along the edge of the riverbank.
Sam gunned the engine and aimed the Jet Ski at it. There was just enough room between the riverbank and the trunk to slide in. It was only after he’d cut the engine he realized his mistake. He should have backed in. If they were spotted, there’d be no escape.
There was no time for regrets; the roar of outboards drowned out the sounds of the jungle. Sam and Mary peered over the trunk. A soft yellow glow grew at the bend in the river and then a powerful beam of light swung toward them as the boat rounded the corner. They ducked, and the bank behind them lit up. Sam pressed his face against the Jet Ski’s vinyl seat and his mind threw up last-minute worries: Were they totally concealed? Would they be spotted as the boat passed? Should they have just kept going?
The noise of the outboard grew until it felt like the boat was on a collision course for the fallen tree. It passed so close to them, Sam could hear people talking. The wake hit the tree, and it rolled gently against the Jet Ski, then the roar of the outboard motors faded away, and the sounds of the jungle returned.
Somewhere nearby, there was a loud splash.
“Wonder what that was?” Mary said.
“Probably a crocodile?”
Mary’s legs were dangling in the water on each side of the Jet Ski. Sam felt her pull them up onto the running boards. “Do you think?” she asked.
“This river is full of them.”
Sam realized he hadn’t even told Mary about his encounter with the croc in the submarine. So much had happened since then, he had almost forgotten it himself. He shivered at the memory and pulled his feet in a little farther from the edge.
When the second boat passed, Sam was sure he heard the whiny voice of the red-haired kid. He smiled as he thought of the look on the boy’s face when he’d spotted his Slayers of Mayhem T-shirt.
They waited another ten minutes, then backed the Jet Ski out and resumed their trip down the river. They didn’t have a light and wouldn’t have risked using one anyway, so Sam kept the speed down and stuck to the middle of the river. Mary brought up the map on her phone and marked the location of the Elio’s shed, but seeing how far away it was made Sam feel even worse.