by Peter Vegas
Shaken and sore, Sam made it to the ground.
“Hurry,” Elio called as he disappeared into the darkness toward the river.
Sam sprinted after him. The timer in his mind told him time was up. As their feet beat a frantic rhythm across the staff parking lot, Sam wondered if the bombs had been fake.
Then the night became day.
The bright flash behind them lit up the way ahead. Sam could see the end of the parking lot and the river beyond. Then the concussion from the blast hit them. Sam saw Elio lifted off the ground and pushed through the air, just as the same thing happened to him. He came down in a heap and lay stunned on the concrete.
Darkness returned, but Sam was seeing stars as he lifted his head. “Elio.”
The boy wasn’t moving.
Sam got to his feet feeling groggy but thankful nothing was broken. He stumbled over to Elio as the boy sat up. He wobbled unsteadily and put hand to the nasty cut on his forehead.
“Now you see why we had to hurry,” he said. He started to laugh at his own joke but stopped and clutched his chest.
Sam’s mind felt clouded. He didn’t know if it was the tumble he’d just taken or the fact he had just avoided certain death, but he knew if he stopped to dwell on it now he’d never get going. And he had a long way to go.
“Elio, listen. I have to get to Lamanai and rescue Mary. I have a Jet Ski back at the shed.”
Elio shook his head, angering Sam, who thought the boy wanted to talk him out of it. “No, Sam. There are Jet Skis here.”
Sam knew that. In the glare of the explosion, he had caught a glimpse of them lined up neatly at the river’s edge. He shook his head. “I don’t have a key. I left it in the Jet Ski at the shed.”
“I can hot-wire them,” Elio said as he motioned for Sam to help him up. He breathed in sharply and rubbed his chest, then waved Sam to follow him. “At night sometimes I sneak out on one and go down to the road bridge to meet my friends. We dare one another to jump off. We call it the big leap.”
“I’ve been over that bridge,” Sam said. “It’s high.”
“And even scarier at night,” Elio said proudly.
It was a funny conversation, Sam thought. For a moment they were two guys talking about normal stuff. There was something comforting about pretending, just for a second, that they were normal. Sam wondered if Elio felt the same way.
The feeling faded as they got to the Jet Skis. There was another timer ticking in Sam’s head. Every second that passed, his chance of rescuing Mary got smaller. Felix wouldn’t hang around at Lamanai for long, and Sam had no idea how he would track him down after that.
They stopped at the first Jet Ski. Sam was heartened to see Elio was already moving more freely, but the boy’s face screwed up as he pulled the seat off the first Jet Ski.
“I need to tell you about your parents.”
Sam stared down at him, but the boy didn’t look up as he removed a panel exposing a collection of wires. In the chaos, Sam had totally forgotten about the fact that Elio knew his parents. All he had been thinking about was getting to Mary. Now, the questions he had formed in his mind came flooding back, along with a pang of guilt because he knew he couldn’t head to Lamanai until he’d learned about the link between this boy and his parents.
23
FINAL COUNT
“I DON’T HAVE LONG,” SAM said. “But you have to tell me how you know my parents.”
He was thankful the boy didn’t stop his work. As Elio removed wires from the circuit board, he spoke slowly and steadily.
“I was the one who first found the submarine in 2010. I was out fishing, and it was in a side stream covered in mud. Inside, I found an old notebook and a gold coin. A Templar coin. Foolishly, I went to the police.”
“Felix Ramos,” Sam said.
“Yes. He took the credit and kept the gold. He didn’t know about the notebook. I kept that. When your parents came to Orange Walk looking for the submarine, they tracked me down. They saw through Mr. Ramos’s lies. Your parents hired me to be their assistant. I helped them learn more about the submarine by giving them the notebook I found inside.”
Now Elio lifted his head and looked up at Sam. “Your parents were very kind to me. I liked them. One night, I was with your father in Lamanai. He found the entrance to the chamber and sent me to get your mother. She insisted we go to their old hotel. They had left there after they suspected they were being watched. I let them stay at my family’s shed.”
Sam nodded but didn’t mention he had found his mother’s notes. He desperately wanted to hear everything Elio had to say, but he couldn’t get the image of Mary out of his mind.
“Keep going,” he said.
“Your mother went to get something from the hotel, but she was caught. There was nothing I could do.”
Elio looked up again and Sam could see tears forming in his eyes. Sam put a hand on Elio’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Please, Elio, I don’t have much time.”
The boy sniffed and wiped his face then lowered his head. “I was scared. Mr. Ramos arrested me. He said your parents had been caught stealing and taken by the authorities.”
“Which authorities? Who?”
Elio shook his head. “I don’t know, Sam. Mr. Ramos told me if I ever mentioned anything, I would be put in jail. I have to support my mother; she has no one else. Mr. Ramos gave me a job.”
Elio had stopped working. His hands were holding the wires. Sam could see him sobbing. “It’s okay, Elio, honestly. What else?”
“That is all. I have worked for Mr. Ramos since then. But my mother is very sick. She is in the hospital. I can’t afford her treatment. A week ago, I went back to Lamanai to try and find the chamber your father discovered. I hoped to find a coin. Just one would pay for my mother’s treatment.”
The throaty roar of the engine made both boys flinch. Elio looked up at Sam, but he wasn’t smiling at his success. His face was etched with pain and guilt.
“Thank you for telling me, Elio. None of this was your fault.”
“I will start another Jet Ski and come with you,” he announced.
Sam watched him remove the seat and fidgeted as he felt the seconds ticking by. Suddenly, Elio stopped and lifted his head sharply. A second later, Sam heard it too—sirens.
They had run out of time.
Instead of returning to his work, Elio leapt up. Sam pushed his Jet Ski out into the river.
“It’s too late,” the boy called.
“What do you mean?” Sam said angrily. “We can get away.”
“No.” Elio pointed back to the burning ruins of Xibalba. The noise of the fire had masked the approach of the emergency vehicles. A police car was already screeching around the side of the building.
“If you leave now, they will know,” Elio called as he walked up the slope to the parking lot. “Wait till I distract them and then go.”
“But what about you?” Sam called.
“Go and save your friend,” Elio said without looking back. And then he was running toward the approaching police car.
Sam crouched down behind the Jet Ski. The engine was ticking over contentedly, and the casing was already warming up. There was a screeching of tires and then men shouting commands. Car doors slammed, and Sam imagined the police chasing the fleeing figure. He waited for a few more seconds before sliding onto the seat of the Jet Ski.
The gears clanked as he put it into reverse, and then with his body low on the seat he reversed the craft out into the river. Once safely swallowed by the darkness, Sam sat up and surveyed the parking lot. The police car sat in the middle of it, doors open and lights flashing. There was no sign of the officers or Elio. Conscious of the sound carrying over the water, Sam turned the Jet Ski and motored slowly up the river toward Lamanai. After a few minutes, he opened up the throttle and pushed the craft as fast as it would go.
Time was ticking.
24
LOOSE ENDS
THE WIND DIED AWAY, AND the clou
ds deserted the night sky. The light from the dying moon reflected off the river, and the shiny surface stood out in contrast to the dull black borders of the jungle on each side. Sam skipped across the surface, not slowing for the twists and turns of the river weaving its way to Lamanai.
He checked his phone and was surprised how far he had traveled, but he still had a way to go. His mind was plagued with thoughts of arriving to find the chamber deserted and the trail cold.
When the riverbanks suddenly veered away from sight, he knew had reached the final stretch of his run. He swung to the right, searching for the edge of the river. Soon he saw the wall of thick vines growing over the bank and dropping down into the water like the gnarly fingers of some hideous giant.
He slowed to crawling speed, then cut the engine and drifted to the point where the vines ended. In the distance, he saw a small black speedboat beached on the thin strip of sand. Sam slipped off the Jet Ski and pushed it into the vines to stop it from floating away, then he walked slowly along the riverbank, retracing the path he had taken a few hours before.
The jungle was silent; still Sam had the feeling that hundreds of sets of eyes were locked on him. But as he crept toward the speedboat, he knew his main concern should be human eyes.
He crouched down and watched the boat. When he was sure the area was deserted, he approached the boulder. There was no need for the light from his phone. The secret panel had been left open. The keypad glowed like a set of nicely arranged rubies. Unlike the keypad at Xibalba, this one didn’t beep, and there was no readout screen. Sam entered the six digits and waited.
Nothing happened. His heart began to beat faster, and he checked left and right for signs of danger.
No one appeared from the shadows. The jungle stayed silent.
Sam hit the C button and entered the code again, leaning in, ears straining for the sound of the click. He heard nothing but pushed anyway.
The boulder moved. He put his shoulder to it and heard the faintest scrape of rock on rock as it swung inward.
The boulder was massive. Only a tiny part of it had been exposed in the rock face. As he slipped through the opening Sam saw the glint of shining metal where someone had added the lock. A modern addition to an ancient piece of engineering.
The tunnel Sam stepped into was man-made. He could feel the smooth stone beneath his feet, and the walls and roof were made of large, evenly cut stone blocks. The light began to fade, and the gentle grating sound signaled that the door was closing. Sam turned to watch the huge boulder swing gently back into place. As the strip of soft white moonlight shrank, Sam had to resist the urge to leap back through the gap.
The dull thud of the door slipping into place echoed around Sam as he reached for his phone, but he didn’t turn on the light, he listened. Felix Ramos was somewhere ahead, and the only advantage Sam had was the man didn’t know he had made it to the chamber. He had no idea what he was going to do next; he only knew that his friend was in trouble and that she would have done the same for him.
Sam stuck his hand out and felt the smooth stone of the tunnel wall. He shuffled his feet forward and began moving slowly away from the door. His fingers traced over the grooves that ran between the blocks, thin, straight lines, a reminder of the skills of the people who had constructed the tunnel.
With one hand on the wall and one hand in front of him, he shuffled forward like a blind man.
The pace was agonizingly slow. When Sam finally took out his phone, after two a.m., he also noticed there was no signal—he wouldn’t be calling for help. Not that he had anyone to call. A quick flash of the light showed him the tunnel ran straight on a slight downward slope. He turned his phone off and began moving again, faster and more confidently. The next time he stopped was when he heard noises.
It sounded like tapping, slow and rhythmic. Sam listened to the repetitive noise for a while and then increased his pace. The noise got louder, and then the blackness ahead began to lighten. It happened slowly, like a sunrise; soon Sam could make out the end of the passageway, its edges lit, but the glow was coming from the space beyond.
He kept moving forward, staying to one side of the tunnel. A few feet from the opening, Sam stopped again. The noise had continued uninterrupted, but now, without the echo caused by the tunnel’s walls, Sam could identify it. Someone was digging.
Sam crept to the opening and suddenly forgot about the noise. He had been expecting a large open area, but nothing like the space he saw in front of him. A huge circular pool, twice the size of the one at Xibalba, was in the center. The same Mayan symbols were carved around the edge. The paving stones ran about fifteen feet back to walls made of huge blocks of stone. The four long poles, spaced around the pool, were also giant versions of the ones at Xibalba. They disappeared up into a cavernous space that Sam realized had to be the inside of the Temple of the Mask. This was the secret the temple had been built to hide.
The poles were painted white and glowed in the light coming from the electric lamps that had been set up around the edge of the pool. The glowing poles created the outline of a giant black pyramid. It was far more spectacular than the one Sam had seen in the show, and then he noticed another major difference. Suspended from a rope in the middle of the pyramid was a large wooden chest. It was the design on the Templar’s orders Sam had taken from Felix Ramos’s office.
He turned his attention back to the noise, the steady digging sound. A small set of stairs ran from the tunnel down to the walkway around the pool. The sound was echoing off the circular wall, but Sam knew it was coming from his right. He peered around the edge of the opening and saw a pile of dirt. On the other side, he saw the big, bald head of Felix Ramos glistening in the light.
Two of the stone floor slabs had been removed and the man was standing in the bottom of a grave-sized hole that looked like it was about four feet deep. He was digging and flicking dirt over his shoulder to the pile. Then Sam spotted movement against the wall near the hole. It was Mary. Her hands were bound, and her mouth was covered with a piece of tape, but she had seen him.
He studied the chamber inch by inch, looking for any sign of danger. He had feared Azeem was with Felix, but there was no sign of him, and nowhere to hide in the huge circular room.
Sam crept down the stairs and moved slowly around the wall, using the shadows created by the electric lights. As he got closer, the pile of dirt gave him cover from the huge man. Felix continued to dig, and Sam knew he was safe as long as he could hear that sound.
The smell of the damp earth filled Sam’s nostrils as he crouched behind the fresh mound. His mind was a jumble of ideas and fears. Did he charge Felix, push him over, and grab Mary? Or get Mary to run to him? He didn’t have a weapon, hadn’t even thought to grab a stick or a rock before he entered the tunnel. He could hear Ramos digging, but Sam knew he would have to act soon.
He edged around the pile of dirt, Mary was only a few feet away. Her eyes were wide, and she was blinking furiously. Sam motioned for her to come to him. She shook her head, and as Sam watched her, he got the feeling she was telling him to go. That was crazy, Sam thought—not when he was so close. He crawled forward and reached out for her. Maybe she just needed help getting up.
As he pulled her to her feet, Felix stopped digging. Sam froze and looked at the man in the hole. He ran a hand across his glistening dome of skin and then, without turning, he spoke.
“I must say, your ingenuity impresses me, Sam. I did not think you would be able to find this place.” Now he twisted slowly and looked up at Sam with a warm smile, but he made no effort to leave the hole. He dropped the shovel and wiped his head again.
“You friend convinced me you were lying about your knowledge of the other two treasure locations,” he said, nodding toward Mary. “You could have left with your life, but you came for your friend. A shame it was all for nothing.” Felix laughed, and his ample stomach wobbled up and down.
Mary grunted and nodded her head frantically at Sam. He watched the man
in the hole. He had made no effort to get out. Sam grabbed Mary and pulled her to him. She flinched, and he looked at her in surprise, but then he heard a noise behind him.
He let go of Mary and spun around as the mound of dirt came to life.
With a roar, a dark figure erupted out of the soil. Its arms threw back the hood of its sweatshirt and Sam saw Azeem’s beaming face.
“Boo!” he shouted as he lunged forward and pushed Sam. He stumbled back against Mary and they tumbled into a heap on the ground.
Felix was still laughing as he heaved himself out of the hole. “We knew you were coming. When I added the keypad to the chamber entrance, I installed a sensor.” He pulled a small remote from his pocket. “But we weren’t sure if you were armed or not, so Azeem came up with the hiding place. Ingenious, yes?”
Azeem was a hideous brown mess. Only his bright toothy grin identified him as a man. The grin left his face when Felix tossed him the spade. “Keep digging.”
Felix took a handkerchief from his pocket, walked to the edge of the pool, and dipped it in the water. He wiped his face and then walked back to Sam and Mary. “You can remove the gag from your friend,” he said.
Sam eased the tape off Mary’s mouth. The moment it was free, a stream of words burst from her. “Sam, I’m sorry. I should never have gone to get the bike. . . . I—”
“It’s okay,” Sam assured her. “I would have done the same thing.”
More laughter from Felix got Sam and Mary’s attention. The man was staring at them with something resembling fondness in his eyes.
“Your loyalty to each other is touching,” he said, wiping the damp cloth across his head.
“Why did you bring her here?” Sam asked.
“Insurance, Sam, while I tie up some loose ends. I am preparing to leave the country.”
“That’s why you left that body at Xibalba when you blew it up?” Sam’s question was rewarded with a look of surprise on Felix’s face.