by Peter Vegas
He was sore and tired. He hadn’t told Mary about the keypad and as their late-night river journey dragged on, the task ahead became more daunting. Familiar fears and doubts seeped into his mind. Things were even more out of control. Sam had no idea what the code was, and with Azeem still after them, how could they even get back there safely?
“Are you okay, Sam?”
“What?” Sam turned to look back at his friend.
“You haven’t said anything for ages. I was just asking if everything’s okay.”
“I’m fine,” Sam lied.
Mary laid a hand on his shoulder. “When we get back to the shed, we should get some sleep, then we can plan our trip back to the chamber.”
“Cool,” Sam said. He was buoyed by his friend’s attitude, but he still couldn’t fight the feeling that things had gone too far. They did both need some rest. Then, with a clearer mind, Sam would be able to convince Mary they should give up and leave.
It was another hour before Mary told Sam they were getting near the sheds. She held the phone up for him to see. One more bend in the river. They were lucky Elio’s place was on the outskirts of town—less chance of them being spotted.
They rounded the bend and saw the lights of Orange Walk in the distance; somewhere in the darkness between them and the town was the row of boat sheds. Sam slowed the Jet Ski to a crawl and steered in toward the riverbank. He could feel a current carrying them, so he cut the engine, and they drifted in silence. Instead of the jungle sounds they had gotten so used to around Lamanai, there was nothing except the occasional honk of a car horn.
A few minutes later, the sheds appeared, their outlines lit by the lights of Orange Walk.
Sam reached out and grabbed a mooring post next to the first shed. They sat there, rocking in the water, listening for sounds that would tell them there were people around. They heard nothing and eventually Sam let go, and they drifted down to Elio’s shed. Sam held the Jet Ski in place while Mary unlatched the door, and they pulled the craft inside.
Mary used the light on her phone to guide Sam up the ladder to the light switch. Neither of them spoke. Sam had closed the curtains over the one small window before they left, but he checked it to make sure no light was escaping. No point in alerting a passerby to their presence. Not that there was much chance of that. That thought made him relax. They’d made it back, and they were safe, for now at least.
“Your turn on the bed,” Sam said.
Mary opened her mouth to say something, but Sam cut her off. “I wanna write in my notebook, and you haven’t had any sleep since you got here.”
Mary conceded his point with a nod and headed to the bed.
Sam sat down at the table and began reviewing the clues he’d collected. He couldn’t tell Mary he wanted to give up if he hadn’t even tried to figure out the code to the chamber. He stared at the notes from his parents, the research from his uncle. Almost immediately, the futility of it overwhelmed him, and the words and numbers swam on the pages.
Sam looked over at Mary; she was already asleep. He put his head on the table and closed his eyes. Images of crocodiles, gold, Templar codes, and Mayan pyramids floated in and out of the darkness; his mind spun, the images blurred, and darkness enveloped him.
THE BUZZING SOUND IN SAM’S skull woke him. Through half-opened eyes, he saw his glowing phone vibrating on the table just a few inches away. He reached for it and pushed himself off the table.
Glancing across the room, he noticed the empty bed. This snapped him from his sleepy state. He looked down at the screen.
There were two texts, sent ten minutes apart.
Sam read them, then grabbed the backpack and ran for the door.
went 2 get scooter. u were sleeping. thought it would b ok.
BUT SOMEONE WATCHING.
HIDING UNDER A CAR. CAN’T MOVE. DON’T WORRY.
Sam’s anger propelled him through the streets. What had Mary been thinking? Going to get the scooter at night and by herself!
Orange Walk was quiet, and only a few people saw the running boy. Sam didn’t slow until he rounded the corner of the street the boat tour building was on. It was another dead end that finished at the water’s edge. The building overlooked a modern concrete pier. Lined up on each side were half a dozen boats like the one Sam and Mary had taken to Lamanai. Next to the building was a parking lot. It had been almost full that afternoon when Sam and Mary had arrived, but only a few vehicles remained.
Sam approached cautiously, keeping away from the streetlights and clinging to the shadows. He found a spot in a darkened doorway of a building that gave him a good view of the parking lot. There was no sign of life, but he knew Mary had probably thought the same thing when she arrived.
The temperature had dropped, and the breeze coming off the river chilled the sweat on Sam’s body. He shivered and stretched his legs to fight off cramps. Pain and growing concern for his friend forced Sam from his hiding spot. He ran across the road, down an alley, and behind a building, where he came to the fence that ringed the parking lot.
The longer he waited, the surer he was that the place was deserted, and the more worried he became for Mary. From his new spot, he could see the scooter, still parked where they had left it, next to the walkway down the pier. Sam had just made the decision to enter when his phone started vibrating.
“Mary, where are you?” Sam whispered anxiously.
There was a long pause, then the deep drawl of Felix Ramos oozed into Sam’s ear. “Hello, Sam. Your friend is enjoying my hospitality.”
“Where is she?”
“Quiet!” Felix snapped. “Listen to me. She will be quite safe as long as you do exactly what I say. Come to Xibalba immediately. And bring the map to the other two treasure locations.”
“But—”
Felix cut Sam off. “Hurry, Sam. My hospitality will run out very soon. You know where I am, and you know there is no point in calling the police.”
The call ended. Sam leapt to his feet and ran along the fence line. The call confirmed the area was safe—that was the conclusion his muddled mind came to. The scooter was untouched, and the key was still in its hiding place under the rear tire. The engine hummed to life and Sam spun the bike around and raced up the street.
Leaving the key had been Mary’s idea—In case we get separated, she had said. Sam hadn’t paid any attention to her statement, but now it came back to haunt him.
22
TOO EASY
SAM WAS WALKING INTO A trap—he knew that. Felix and Azeem were expecting him, and he had nothing to trade. He thought back to what he’d said to Azeem at Lamanai, his lie about the other two treasure sites. He’d said it to buy himself time, but now he was paying the price. No, he corrected himself, Mary was paying the price. But as Sam rode through the streets, he realized that instead of walking into the trap, he could swim in.
The wet suit was the key. Sam found the spot he’d hidden it using the GPS on his phone; then he ran to the river.
The other critical part of the plan relied on Elio’s information about the crocodile tunnel closing at midnight. Using the fence line of Xibalba as reference, he entered the water. It was so murky he had to use the light on his phone, but there was no time to worry about being spotted.
Sam found the tunnel with less than five minutes to spare.
A large circular door was pinned back against the riverbank. Sam kicked furiously toward it, terrified it would swing shut and lock him out.
Elio had told him the crocodiles were fed before they were released, but as Sam entered the tunnel, he couldn’t stop the terrifying images of beasts racing in to attack him from behind. He channeled the fear into his legs, pumping them up and down.
The light from his phone only lit the space a few feet ahead. Beyond was a black void that seemed to go on forever. As he swam on, the blackness closed in around him; he could feel it squeezing the air from his lungs. He fought to control his breathing and stretched one arm out to run his hand al
ong the side of the tunnel. He kicked on through the darkness. His lungs burned, and he had to work harder and harder to breathe properly. He felt himself getting light-headed, his kicking slowed, but just as he was about to pass out, his arm slipped into open water.
He had reached the pool.
With the last of his strength, Sam kicked to the surface and gulped fresh air as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He swam to the side of the pool and eased himself up onto the concrete, listening for signs of life, but the room was deserted.
Sam aimed the light on his phone at the cage room. The familiar stench of wet beasts and rotting meat filled his nostrils as he opened the door.
“Elio, Mary,” he hissed.
There was a rattle from the far end. Sam shone his phone light down the room. The cages were empty, including Elio’s, but on the table he saw his backpack and his father’s trench coat, exactly where he’d left them. There was another rattle and Sam moved cautiously toward it.
As he got closer, he made out legs bound with rope. He ran the last few feet. Behind the end cage, a body was tied up. It rolled to face him, and Sam was staring at Elio. The boy had a piece of black tape stuck across his mouth.
Sam dropped to his knees and removed it.
“Thank you, Sam,” the boy spluttered. “I had given up hope. We must hurry.”
“Why are you tied up?”
“After your escape, Azeem did not trust the locks.” Elio smirked. “Please untie me.”
“Where’s Mary?” Sam asked as he used his pocketknife to cut the rope holding Elio’s wrists. As soon as his hands were free, Elio took the knife and went to work on the rope around his legs.
“Did you see Mary?” Sam asked again.
“Yes, Sam. She was here, but Mr. Ramos took her.” Elio tossed the rope aside and got up. “We must go. It is not safe here.” The boy ran for the door.
Sam called out as he followed, “What do you mean she was here? Where are we going?”
“They left, Sam. Because of the bomb.”
“Bomb! What bomb? Felix told me to come here.”
“Look!” Elio stopped by the door and pointed to the cage on the ground beside him. As Sam got on his knees, Elio hit a switch that lit up the room. In the far corner of the cage, Sam saw a brown package joined by wires to a small black box. A screen on the box had a row of glowing red numbers that were counting down. They had six minutes and twelve seconds.
“You see?” Elio said. “We have to leave.”
“We can swim out,” Sam said. “We can share the air in my suit.”
Elio shook his head. “It is after midnight. The door to the river has shut.”
“It didn’t look too strong. I’m sure we can force it open.”
Elio shook his head again. “Your suit has run out of oxygen.”
“How do you know?”
“The red light on the mouthpiece.”
Sam had noticed the tiny light on the tip of the breather when he had put on the suit. But the light had been orange then, and the air had been flowing. He thought back to his last moments in the tunnel: his burning lungs, and the struggle to breathe. He’d thought it was exhaustion, but he’d run out of oxygen. He shivered at the thought of how close he’d come to drowning. “So we’re trapped?”
“No,” said Elio. “If we can get to Mr. Ramos’s office, we can escape.”
“Hang on.” Sam struggled out of the wet suit. It was bulky and hard to move in, and there was no point in wearing it now. He grabbed his father’s trench coat and the backpack. “What about Mary?” Sam called as he ran to catch up with Elio.
“I heard Mr. Ramos tell Azeem they are going to the chamber and then they plan to leave Belize. Azeem wanted to leave your friend here, but Mr. Ramos wants to keep her as insurance.”
Elio had stopped at the door that led to Felix Ramos’s office.
The boy stared at it and rubbed his head with his hand.
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked.
“There should be a keypad. Right there,” he said, pointing to the wall beside the handleless door. “I saw it through the glass.”
Sam stepped up beside him and touched the stone wall. It was fake, but the same color as the riverbank at Lamanai. He recalled Felix telling him how he had designed every part of Xibalba.
Sam closed his eyes and ran his hand gently down the wall. His fingers felt the hidden button, and he pushed it. When he opened his eyes, a glowing number pad had appeared below.
“How did you know it was there?” Elio asked.
“Doesn’t matter,” Sam said. “Do you know the code?”
Elio nodded. “When they were leaving, Azeem forgot it. Mr. Ramos got mad and shouted it at him. He said, ‘The code is “baktun,” you fool!’ ”
Sam looked at the pad. “ ‘Baktun.’ Are you sure?”
“Yes, definitely.”
“Are you sure?” Sam said.
Elio nodded. “Why?”
Sam pointed at the keypad. “They’re numbers. Not letters.”
Elio’s face fell as he stared at the glowing digits. “No, no,” he said, shaking his head. “ ‘Baktun’ is the code. Mr. Ramos said it, and I heard Azeem push the buttons. There were beeps, and the door clicked open.”
“Hang on,” Sam said, pulling his notebook out of his pants. He flicked through the pages until he found his mother’s notes on the Mayan long count. “Here is it,” he said, stabbing the page with a finger. “I knew I’d heard of a baktun. The fifth sun was made of thirteen baktun cycles. That has to be it.”
Sam pressed one and three and was rewarded with two beeps.
Elio grabbed his arm. “No, Sam, I heard more beeps than that.”
Sam entered them again. Nothing. He looked at his mother’s notes. How much time did they have left? How many minutes since they had left the cage room? He shut the thoughts from his mind and concentrated.
He hit the C button, and the four sets of 13 disappeared.
“It must be the date of the end of the fifth sun.” He entered 122112.
“That’s it, Sam,” Elio said excitedly. “That’s the number of beeps I heard.”
They waited. There was no sound. Elio gave the door a desperate shove. It didn’t budge.
Sam went back to the notes, scanning them for another combination of six digits. There was one last chance. He entered the six numbers that made up the number of days in a baktun. After the six beeps, there was silence. The two boys looked at each other, neither able to hide the desperation on their faces. Finally, from behind the door came a muffled metallic click, and it swung inward a couple of inches.
“You did it,” Elio said as he pushed the door open. The boy took off and Sam followed him down the corridor and up the stairs.
“Hurry, we don’t have much time,” Elio yelled as he ran to the door to Felix’s office.
There was a bright burst of light as Elio opened it. Sam called out a warning, but it was too late. The boy had already entered.
Sam ran into the room and almost collided with Elio. The boy had stopped dead.
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, but as he said the words, he saw what had distracted Elio. Slumped over the desk was the body of a large bald man in a white suit.
“Who is it?” Sam asked.
“I have never seen him before,” Elio murmured. “But he is wearing one of Mr. Ramos’s expensive suits.”
The man had no obvious injuries, and would have looked like he was sleeping if it hadn’t been for the sickly gray color of his skin. He had been dead for some time.
As Sam approached the desk, Elio had snapped out of his shock and ran for the main door. “Sam, what are you doing? There is a fire escape this way. We can get out, but we don’t have much time.”
“Two minutes,” Sam said, pointing behind the desk to the black timer and brown package identical to the ones in the cage room. “Go and open the fire escape. I’ll be there in a minute.”
As he got closer to the body, Sam coul
d smell the stink of decay. Why had the corpse been placed there?
Holding his nose, Sam leaned over for a closer look at the papers scattered around the body. They were all from banks and had large bold letters at the top that read FORECLOSURE and FINAL NOTICE. Xibalba was in deep financial trouble, and here was the proof, under a dead man. Sam didn’t understand what was going on, and he couldn’t hang around to work it out. The timer told him he had less than two minutes.
An agitated Elio returned to the room. “Hurry, Sam, please!”
Sam ignored him and turned to the reason he was still there. The large panel of black fabric that had held the dagger . . . It was empty. Sam had noticed the second he entered the room, but the piece of parchment was still there. Felix had referred to it as one of the tools he used to build Xibalba. Sam didn’t know what that meant either, but it was linked to Lamanai, and that was where Mary had been taken.
With just a minute and a half on the timer, Sam ripped the ancient piece of paper off the wall and slipped it into his journal.
“We should go,” he said as he ran toward Elio. The boy totally missed the sarcasm in Sam’s voice.
“That’s what I have been trying to tell you! This way!”
They went through the outer office and into the hallway. For a few sickening seconds, Sam thought the boy was going to lead them back down to the main tunnel. There was no way they’d make it in time. But he veered into a room lined with beds. At the far end was an open window. Elio leapt through it without stopping, and as Sam followed him, all he could think was that dying after jumping out a second-story window was almost worse than being blown up.
The fall didn’t kill him because it was only a few feet. They were on a narrow fire escape and Elio was already sliding down the ladder fireman-style, with a foot on each side of it. Spurred on by the fact there could be only a few seconds left, Sam did the same—almost. Halfway down, one leg slipped off the side of the ladder and he only avoided falling off completely by grabbing a rung.