The Deadly Curse of Toco-Rey

by Frank Peretti

  “Could be they had quite a scam going here.” Dr. Cooper shined his flashlight up and down the long passage. “But if that’s true, then there has to be another way in and out.”

  Jay could hear Lila stumbling in the tunnel behind him and looked back. “Lila?” Her flashlight beam was drooping. She seemed to be staggering. “Hey, Lila, you okay?”

  “Okay your minute when it’s wider, I’m a gimme . . .” she answered.

  Jay reached out and grabbed his father’s arm. “Dad . . .”

  Dr. Cooper had also heard Lila’s response. “Lila? How’s it going back there?”

  They could only see the beam of her flashlight coming up the tunnel. She didn’t answer.

  Dr. Cooper shined his light in her face.

  She cowered, covering her face with her arms. “NOO! Light now, I’m over inside!”

  “She’s talking crazy!” Jay exclaimed.

  “Something’s wrong,” said Dr. Cooper. They hurried back into the tunnel. “Lila, hold still, sweetheart, we’re coming.”

  Jacob Cooper had almost reached her, was just about to touch her, when she dropped her arms and he saw her face.

  Her skin had turned a pale green. Her eyes were wild, like a savage animal’s. She screamed a scream that chilled his blood.

  He tried to grab hold of her. “Lila—”

  SWAT! She struck him across the face before he even saw it coming, her fingernails gouging him, the power of the blow enough to knock him off balance. He fell backward to the tunnel floor, a sharp stalagmite just missed his rib cage.

  “Lila,” Jay cried, “what are you doing?”

  Her flashlight lay amid the stalagmites, still shining. Far beyond its small circle of light, Jay and Dr. Cooper could hear Lila racing back up the tunnel with incredible speed.

  “Did you see her?” Dr. Cooper exclaimed, carefully getting to his feet. “Did you see her face?”

  “What happened?”

  His voice was desperate. “The very thing José de Carlon wrote about and warned about. Whatever it is, she has it—the curse of Toco-Rey!”

  FIVE

  Armond Basehart and his three men were suddenly startled by faraway, echoing screams coming out of the pit like anguished screams from hell. Tomás, Juan, and Carlos crouched, gripping their rifles, their eyes white and wide with terror in the dark of the jungle.

  Even scientific-minded Dr. Basehart was unnerved by the sound. “It’s—I think it’s the girl.”

  Tomás nodded, his face etched with fear. “This is not good, señor. It’s—”

  The sound was getting closer, louder, wilder. They could hear running footsteps, the other Coopers shouting, the girl screaming. All the voices echoed from far below like ghosts in a deep, forbidden crypt.

  Dr. Basehart leaned over the wall and shined his light into the pit. “One of you had better get down there and see what happened.” He looked at his men. “It could be—AAUUGH!”

  Something grabbed his arm, then the edge of his coat, then clawed and climbed over him like a wild cat, knocking him to the ground. Juan and Carlos cursed in Spanish, unable to believe their eyes.

  “Grab her!” Tomás yelled. “Señorita, stop!”

  Juan dropped his rifle to free his hands. She was coming right at him, her eyes wild, her teeth bared, her breath huffing.

  He tried to stop her, plead with her. He grabbed hold of her. “Señorita, please—”

  She threw him off as if he weighed nothing, and he tumbled head over heels into the brush. Without looking back, she ran headlong into the jungle. They could hear her crashing through the thick growth into the dark night, getting farther and farther away. She screamed again.

  And then they heard another scream—the other scream, from somewhere in the ruins. It seemed to be answering her.

  “Basehart!” came Dr. Cooper’s voice from below.

  Dr. Basehart and his men dove at the rope and pulled Dr. Cooper from the pit.

  “Where’s my daughter?” Jacob Cooper demanded, scrambling over the wall.

  “She . . .” Dr. Basehart fumbled to answer, still in shock.

  “Where is she?” he yelled.

  Dr. Basehart’s voice trembled. “She ran into the jungle. We couldn’t stop her. She was mad, out of her mind!”

  “Get my son out of there!”

  They quickly pulled Jay out of the pit.

  Dr. Cooper was seething. “So the green slugs are harmless, eh?” He grabbed Tomás by the collar.

  “You call that harmless? My daughter is a raving animal!”

  Dr. Basehart intervened, pulling Jacob Cooper away from Tomás. “Dr. Cooper, we are just as surprised as you! We had no idea—”

  They heard another scream. It was Lila.

  “Come on,” said Dr. Cooper, leading the way into the jungle, “we’ll talk later.”

  Tomás cautioned, “It is dangerous! There are snakes, carvies, maybe Kachakas!”

  “Come on!”

  They pushed into the jungle, trying their best to follow Lila’s trail. Dr. Cooper kept probing the thick growth with his flashlight, finding broken branches, trampled leaves and vines, footprints in the soft earth. Her speed and agility through this tangled mess was uncanny. Not only was she out of her mind, but a massive adrenaline rush also gave her super strength. Sometimes it seemed she had bounded over the top of everything.

  “The curse of Toco-Rey,” Dr. Cooper muttered bitterly, groping about, slashing with his machete. “Toxic slime! That’s all José de Carlon encountered. That’s all it ever was. I shouldn’t have believed Tomás. I should have gotten Lila out of here right away and put her in a hospital!”

  Dr. Basehart tried to defend himself. “Dr. Cooper, we can’t be sure what caused—”

  “Then find out!” Dr. Cooper snapped back. “You’re the scientist, the biologist with the lab. Find out what the stuff is and how we can undo whatever it’s doing!”

  “My primary purpose here is not biological research, Doctor!” Basehart objected loudly. “I’m here to find the treasure of Kachi-Tochetin—and so are you, I might add!”

  Dr. Cooper spun around, eyes blazing, clenching a fist, ready to strike. He quickly controlled himself but struck hard with his words. “Put your greed on hold, Dr. Basehart, until we find my daughter!” He turned and continued pushing through the brush.

  Armond Basehart followed, clearly offended. “I beg your pardon!”

  “You heard me! You and your boss can just—”

  They burst into the clear.

  Juan screamed. The others froze, guns in hand.

  They were standing before the crumbling stone wall of what had been an Oltecan dwelling. On the ground at the base of the wall, a human-shaped mass of squirming, slimy blobs boiled, crawled, hissed, and squeaked.

  For a moment, no one moved. No one could think of what to do.

  Tomás came up behind Dr. Cooper and whispered in his ear. “They are turning from yellow to green,” Tomás noted. “They may be more timid now.”

  Dr. Cooper approached cautiously, machete and spray bottle ready to take on any carvy that came near him. Some of the slimy creatures began to notice him and half-fly, half-hop away.

  So suddenly that he startled the others, Jacob Cooper yelled and flashed his machete back and forth, causing a commotion that sent the carvies fluttering into the trees and ruins like a flock of frightened birds.

  “Oh no . . .” said Dr. Basehart as he looked, horrified, at what remained on the ground.

  Tomás took one look and then crossed himself.

  Jacob Cooper approached cautiously, shining his flashlight on the remains of a person, now nothing more than a skeleton covered with green slime, propped against the wall. “It’s Brad Frederick, one of the Cory party.”

  The others moved closer in shock and amazement, flashlights illuminating the dead, grinning skeleton before them.

  “How can you tell?” Dr. Basehart asked.

  “Remember the video?” Dr. Cooper res
ponded, shining his light in the skeleton’s face. “That big, white grin is unmistakable.”

  “No one touch it,” Dr. Basehart cautioned as he knelt beside the skeleton to scrape off a sample of the green slime with a stick. “I’ll take this sample back to the lab and see if I can match it with the slime we took from Lila earlier today.” He carefully folded the stick in his handkerchief and placed it in a vest pocket. “But now it all makes perfect sense, doesn’t it?”

  “Does it?” Dr. Cooper asked.

  Dr. Basehart looked up at the group. “The slug toxin. The Kachakas use it to tip their darts. We found darts at the Corys’ camp, so we know the Kachakas must have attacked them. This man, Brad Frederick, must have been hit with a poison dart, and he contracted the same symptoms as your daughter: madness and extreme paranoia, followed eventually by paralysis and death. He fled the scene of the attack, wandered among these ruins, and finally succumbed here. The carvies are the jungle’s housekeepers. They have, uh, cleaned up the remains in their own way.” Now he directed his words to Tomás, Juan, and Carlos. “So this ‘curse’ you’ve been so afraid of is nothing more than the toxin the carvies produce in their slime. Nature itself has found a way to guard the treasure of Kachi-Tochetin: poisonous slugs.”

  Tomás tried to argue. “But Señor Basehart, Juan and Carlos and I have all touched the green slime before. We have handled the green slugs. We have never gone crazy. The slime does not hurt us.”

  Basehart thought that over. “Your ancestors have probably developed an immunity over the generations. The slime, regardless of its color, could produce a very different reaction in foreigners.” He looked at the Coopers. “Which could be why Kachi-Tochetin found it so appropriate.”

  Jay had been pondering something for several moments, and now he finally got the chance to ask, “But Dr. Basehart, if this is Brad Frederick, then who’s buried in the grave back at the Corys’ camp?”

  For just an instant, Dr. Basehart seemed stumped by the question. “I forgot. There were four in the Cory party. We buried the three we found in the camp. This one, Mr. Frederick, met his terrible fate here in the ruins.” Dr. Basehart rose to his feet ceremoniously. “But now he, too, will be buried in a proper grave. We will see to that.”

  Jacob Cooper was quite edgy. “But first we have to find Lila, before she ends up”—he shot a glance toward the skeleton at their feet—“like this.”

  Jay swallowed. The thought was too horrible to imagine. “Man, let’s go.”

  “Tomás and Juan will help you search,” said Dr. Basehart, not even looking at his men to see if they approved of their assignment. “Carlos will accompany me back to the lab. I’m going to analyze this sample to see if I can isolate the toxin. We’ll have to hope I can find an antidote in time.”

  “We’ll find Lila,” said Dr. Cooper with grave determination, “and we’ll bring her to you.”

  They were startled by another long, mournful wail deep within the ruins.

  “That’s Lila,” said Jay excitedly. “She’s not too far away.”

  “Good luck,” said Dr. Basehart, heading back toward the compound.

  Dr. Cooper instructed Tomás, “You and Juan circle that way; Jay and I will go this way. We’ll try to keep Lila between us until we can narrow down her location.”

  They split up and headed into the jungle, moving slowly, cautiously. They kept an eye open for snakes and yellow carvies while keeping an ear open for any other sounds from Lila.

  After they had gone some distance, Dr. Cooper stopped and motioned for Jay to hold up. They listened a moment. There was no sound.

  And then there was. Another long, mournful wail.

  “Dad,” Jay whispered in concern, “that wasn’t Lila.”

  Jacob Cooper nodded, then whispered, “Which means Armond Basehart has some explaining to do.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He worked with the Cory party until they were killed. He had the video, he knew them by name, and now he’s asking us to believe that he buried three of them and forgot about the other two.”

  “Two?”

  “Brad Frederick . . . and now this other scream we’ve been hearing.” Dr. Cooper listened a moment, but there was no other sound. “It’s a human being in anguish, just like Lila. If you ask me, I think it’s another one of the Cory party.”

  Jay wrinkled his nose. “So there were five people on the Cory team?”

  “We don’t know. But I’m bothered that Dr. Basehart doesn’t seem to remember.”

  Jay asked, “If two of them went crazy like Lila, why would he try to hide that from us?”

  Dr. Cooper sighed with disgust. “Greed. He’s so intent on finding the treasure that he doesn’t want us concerning ourselves with the Corys.”

  Jay thought it over, then nodded. “Yeah. If we thought the Corys were still alive, we’d be trying to help them instead of searching for the treasure.”

  “Exactly. I don’t think a man like Armond Basehart has time for such moral considerations. And I don’t think he was planning on us finding that skeleton—or hearing these screams.”

  “So what really happened? Were the Corys attacked by the Kachakas or did they go crazy from contact with slug slime, or was it both, or what?”

  “I think Armond Basehart knows but isn’t telling. And now I’m wondering if he really has claustrophobia. It could be he’s—”

  A scream, then snarling and more screaming and thrashing in the brush: It was close by.

  Dr. Cooper and Jay dove into the brush, shouldering their way through it, pushing, plowing, clawing ahead. It sounded like a chase out there: a victim fleeing, a predator hunting. They could envision the worst.

  They broke out of the brush and into a clearing. They’d found more ruins—more gray, crumbling stone jutting up through the thick undergrowth. They shined their lights back and forth, the beams searching, searching. Someone was running, screaming, struggling on the other side of that crumbling wall. They caught sight of a droopy, billed cap.

  “It’s Lila!” Dr. Cooper exclaimed, running toward the ruin, his gun in his hand and Jay right alongside.

  They leaped to the top of the wall. It was an old dwelling, four walls with no roof. Over in the corner, amid vines and plants, their light beams caught a young girl cowering in terror, her body curled up, her arms over her head.

  “Lila!” her dad hollered, jumping down from the wall and running toward her.

  Still atop the wall, Jay saw the bushes moving. Something was heading in Dr. Cooper’s direction.

  “Dad!”

  Dr. Cooper heard the warning, felt a commotion to his left, and looked just in time to see—teeth! flashing eyes! a powerful fist!

  He deflected the blow, ducked another one, then crouched down and used a judo move the third time to throw the creature into the bushes. It thrashed about, righting itself, leaping to its feet. It came at him again.

  He had dropped his gun and the flashlight. No time to look for them.

  The thing took a powerful leap through the air, arms outstretched, fingers like claws, a scream in its throat. Dr. Cooper ducked, deflected the weight, threw it off. Once again, it tumbled into the bushes.

  No way to overpower it, Dr. Cooper thought. I can only deflect it, but for how long? He saw a metallic gleam amid the vines several feet away. He started to reach for it.

  OOF! The blow knocked him sideways into green vines and crackling branches. He rolled onto his back and saw a face coming out of the dark. It was green, raging, other-worldly, drooling, full of murder.

  The creature leaped. Jacob Cooper planted a foot in its belly and kicked it over his head and into the bushes again.

  Now for that gun! He groped for it, searched for it.

  BOOM!

  Jay had found it and fired a round into the air.

  The thing let out a cry of alarm and seemed to hesitate.

  “Go on!” Jay hollered, shooting into the air again. “Get out of here!”

&
nbsp; It turned and fled, thrashing through the brush.

  Dr. Cooper got to his feet.

  “Dad!” Jay screamed, “Look out!”

  Dr. Cooper spun around, saw it coming, ducked.

  A poison dart thunked into a branch right next to his head.

  Poof! A puff of air. A second dart zipped past Jay’s ear.

  The Coopers dropped to the ground, scurried, crawled, then peered through the leaves and branches. Dr. Cooper found his flashlight.

  The light beam fell on a small hand clutching a short length of bamboo cane, aiming it.

  Poof! Another dart zinged through the leaves and branches only inches from Dr. Cooper’s head.

  “Don’t shoot!” he called. “We’re friends!”

  They heard a frightened gasp. No more darts came their way.

  “Hello?” Jacob Cooper called again. “Can you see us? We’re friends. We won’t hurt you.”

  They poked their heads up and waved their hands so they could be clearly seen.

  A dark-skinned, native girl looked back at them, a blowgun in her hand. Her face was full of fear. But when she saw them, she seemed to relax.

  Then she let out a sigh and slumped to the ground in a faint.

  They rushed forward to help her, cradling her head, feeling for a pulse. Her heartbeat was strong and she was breathing okay.

  “Poor thing,” said Dr. Cooper. “She must have been terrified.” He picked up her blowgun and slipped it into his shirt pocket, then he used his flashlight to illumine the olive-skinned face and long, jet black hair. She was young, beautiful, close to Lila’s age and stature.

  “She’s a native,” Dr. Cooper observed. “Probably a Kachaka.”

  Jay was dismayed. “How’d she get Lila’s hat?”

  “She may have found it . . . or she could have encountered Lila.” He gently stroked her forehead and spoke to her. “Hello, little girl. Come on, wake up.”

  A glow fell upon the girl’s face and the stones of the old wall. There was a sound behind them.

  As they turned, they saw torches coming over the wall and the dimly lit outlines of several men— big men—in loose clothing, some bare-chested. Some wore straw hats. They were carrying knives, rifles, clubs. A voice jabbered at them in an unknown language. More torches appeared. The light washed over the area.