Ninth Lord of the Night

by Diana L. Driver

  She came closer and started to put her hands on his chest. Zack backed up a couple of steps. “Come on, Sam. Quit it. I know about the little game you and Bruce were playing. Besides, someone could walk in.”

  “Like me?” Clifton asked.

  “Exactly like you,” Zack groaned. There was no getting away from this guy.

  “Go on Samantha, beat it,” Clifton told her. “Zack and I need to talk.” Sam turned the edges of her lips into a pout and left. Zack took another swallow of beer.

  “Didn’t know you were old enough to drink,” Clifton said.

  “I’m old enough for a lot of things.”

  “I know you think so,” Clifton sighed. “What you did last night was unacceptable. It was bad enough that you took the jeep, but getting Samantha involved in your escapade and forcing yourself on her was inexcusable.” He looked at Zack’s face. “Did Kyle do this?”

  “Yeah, yesterday afternoon,” Zack said rubbing his jaw. “If you think this is bad, you should see where he kicked me.”

  “You need to remember that who you see and what you do doesn’t affect just you, it affects a lot of people. I’m one of them. I don’t want any more trouble out of you. And, keep clear of Samantha.”

  “Look,” Zack said heatedly. “You don’t have the right to tell me who I can or cannot see. I can take care of myself.”

  “Like you were doing last night?” Clifton pointed to the bottle in Zack’s hand. “Like you’re doing now? You’re underage. If your mother knew she’d have a fit.”

  “Maybe, and maybe she wouldn’t care.”

  “How about stealing the jeep? That certainly wasn’t one of your brighter ideas.”

  “You make it sound like I run a chop-shop or something,” Zack retorted.

  “Joyriding is a serious offense. From your past history you should have known that.”

  Zack chewed his lip in anger. Indignation and outrage washed over him. “So Mom did tell you. It figures. She whines to you every chance she gets, doesn’t she?”

  “Your mom wasn’t whining. She was scared. She didn’t know where you were or when to expect you back, and she couldn’t get in touch with your dad. The hours passed and she didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t report you as a runaway until you were gone for forty-eight hours. When she called me she was frantic and I told her that the quickest way to find you was to report the Mercedes stolen.”

  “You? You told her that?” Zack was stunned. “Thanks for ruining my life.”

  “You don’t seem to have changed much since then.”

  Zack clinched his fists. “There’s a lot you don’t know!”

  “Then why don’t you tell me? And, while we’re getting this all out in the open, you should also know that it was my idea for you spend a little time in jail until your father could come and get you. Thought it might teach you a lesson. But you don’t learn, do you Zack?”

  This was too much. Zack drew his arm back and took a swing at his uncle. Clifton avoided him easily and pinned his arms to his sides. “Calm down boy. I don’t want to fight you.”

  As soon as Clifton loosened his grip, Zack pushed past him and ran back to his room. Everyone had been against him from the very beginning, his mom, his dad, Kyle, and his uncle. He’d been lectured at, spied up, and set up from the very beginning. He was gullible, predictable, and just plain stupid.

  The last person Zack wanted to see opened the door and peeked in.

  “Hi guy, how you doing?” Samantha asked, smiling mischievously.

  “Not too good,” Zack muttered.

  She walked up to him and stroked his face. “You look terrible. Your beard’s all rough and scraggly. Don’t you ever shave?” Zack didn’t say anything and she said, “Aw, come on. Don’t be that way.” She stepped past him and flopped down on the bed, lounging on her side and resting her head on her hand. “Things can’t be that bad.”

  He turned to face her. “Want to bet? You got me in a big mess last night, Sam.” He sat down beside her. “My uncle is about as mad at me as he can get. He thinks taking the jeep and driving out to the ruins was all my idea. And, then he had to catch us making out. Boy, did he get the wrong idea about that. And, now here you are.”

  “Yep, here I am. Now what?”

  “You made me look like a complete jerk. But you’re not in any trouble are you?”

  Sam examined her long, coral fingernails. “Of course not, silly. Besides, there isn’t anyone around here who really cares.”

  “I think maybe Kyle cares. My uncle, too. What if Uncle Clifton were to send you home? Tell your folks?”

  “My parents are divorced, plus they’re never home. All your uncle would be able to do is leave them a voice mail.” Sam giggled and Zack felt himself softening towards her.

  “This isn’t a joke. I’m in a lot of trouble. Everybody hates me.”

  “Poor baby,” she laughed. She sat up and ruffled his hair. “I don’t hate you.”

  Before he knew what was happening she was kissing him. He should have pushed her away. He knew it was crazy. She was crazy. If anyone were to walk by and see them, he’d really get nailed. He should have stopped her, but he didn’t. Instead he kissed her back.

  “Well you certainly haven’t lost your ardor,” she said. “We could start this game back up from the same spot where we were so rudely interrupted last night. You have to admit that going out to the ruins in the middle of the night was exciting.”

  Game. That’s all this was to her, a momentary diversion to keep her from being bored. He didn’t excite her. Setting him up and sneaking out with a partner in crime excited her.

  “Get out of here Samantha,” Zack said. “I’ve had enough games this past week to last me my whole life.”

  “We could find a nice secluded place out at the ruins.”

  “I’ll pass. I don’t want to get killed.” Zack removed her arms from around his neck. “You better leave.”

  She giggled, blew him a kiss, and took off.

  ###

  The water pipes gurgled as the cold water trickled out in a thin, but steady drip. Zack turned both faucets as far as they would go, but it didn’t make any difference. There was no hot water and the water pressure didn’t increase. He stepped into the shower anyway. He managed to get the soap and shampoo to lather, but rinsing it off his body and out of his hair was a major accomplishment.

  He examined his discolored body and moaned in dismay. The six-pack he’d been so proud of was covered with a large purplish bruise. A thin red line, compliments of the smuggler’s knife, traversed another bruise below his ribcage.

  His left jaw was greenish-blue underneath a thick growth of stubble. He didn’t care. It hurt like hell and he wasn’t going to inflict any pain on himself by shaving.

  He dressed and went to the kitchen, hoping that by now his uncle would be gone. He still hadn’t had anything to eat and that beer wasn’t sitting too well on his empty stomach.

  Dusty was sitting at the table finishing a cup of coffee, his huge cowboy hat balanced on his knee and his right hand bandaged. Linda and Josh were sipping sodas. Mrs. Sanchez swirled a damp rag around on the stove.

  “Hey boy,” Dusty greeted Zack. “Heard you had a rough time last night.”

  “You know?” Zack asked dismally, already knowing the answer.

  “Sí,” Mrs. Sanchez said. “You bad, bad boy. Your mama be very upset. You stay away from that Sam. She’s big trouble.”

  “You know too? How did you find out?”

  “Boy, you can’t do something like that around here and keep it a secret. We are all light sleepers. Especially with Bruce and your brother going around raising a ruckus.”

  “So, what’s the big deal? I took the jeep out for a midnight spin with Samantha. How come everybody’s going overboard?”

  Mrs. Sanchez turned back to the stove.

  “Don’t you ever think about anyone except yourself?” Linda said. “My dad has a enough to worry about without you causing t
rouble.”

  “Son,” Dusty said. “The big deal is that you don’t go wandering around the jungle in the dark. It’s too easy to get lost . . . or have an accident.”

  “No one seems concerned about my having an accident,” Zack said bitterly.

  Dusty stood up, cradling his hurt hand. “Don’t do it again,” he warned. “You could find yourself somewhere you don’t want to be.”

  Zack nodded and Dusty left. Followed by Mrs. Sanchez.

  “I’m sorry,” Zack said to Linda.

  “You’re only sorry because you got caught,” Josh said. “Bruce told us everything, including how you were caught pawing Samantha. You’ve only been here a couple of days and yet almost every time I’ve seen you you’ve been fighting with someone. I’m tired of stepping between you and your brother or you and Bruce. From now on you better keep a low profile.” He grabbed Linda’s hand and led her out of the room.

  Anger shot through Zack. Bruce had concocted the setup, Sam had helped him, but in everyone’s opinion, he was the troublemaker.

  Zack threw together a couple of thick ham sandwiches, grabbed a bag of chips, a can of soda and sat down at the table to eat his lunch. Every now and then Mrs. Sanchez’ daughter came in to see if Zack had finished so she could clean up. He ate in a hurry, rinsed off his dirty plate, and sneaked back to his room, like a thief.

  The thought of spending the next three weeks hiding in his room seemed ridiculous and cowardly – plus, Bruce and Kyle would probably laugh their heads off at the idea of him under house arrest. He’d been set-up. All he’d done wrong was to fall for the Sam and Bruce’s dirty little trick.

  His other option was to go back out and explore the ruins. He didn’t need to continue his search for the codex. The murderer had the map and by now he probably had the codex, too. Zack could stay with the other tourists and just enjoy the scenery.

  He left his room, taking the longer, but easier trail that wound around to the Plaza of the Seven Temples. From that plaza he continued west until he reached the ruins of Bat Palace. All the buildings were beginning to look alike to him.

  Maya graffiti filled most of the long, low buildings. He couldn’t make out what the pictures were supposed to be, they all looked like curls and swirls. He wandered around a little while before taking the path that led to the Plaza of the Lost World.

  The Plaza of the Lost World was larger than Bat Place. A one hundred foot pyramid dominated the three plazas that made up the complex, and there on the summit of the Temple of the Skulls sat Maria reading a book. Her long black hair pulled into a ponytail.

  “Hey,” Zack called.

  She glanced down at him, and then continued reading. He climbed the temple steps and sat down beside her.

  “Go away,” she said.

  “Why?” he asked. “What did I do?”

  “Go away!” She looked at him with loathing. “You have a lot of gall. You know that?”

  “Who me?”

  She sighed in irritation. “You know, I believed you last night. I believed what you said about stealing the car. Then you steal Dr. Collin’s jeep and go off in the middle of the night with Sam!” She hit her wrist against her forehead. “Am I stupid or what? You, Zack, are a grade-A jerk.”

  He swallowed, gazed at the plaza below and then up at the blue and white sky. He could try to explain, in which case he’d end up looking like a fool, or he could not say anything and remain a jerk. He decided not to waste his breath because there didn’t seem much difference between the two.

  A pair of green and yellow parrots flew out of the trees and he watched them intently. They flew over his head and a disgusting blob splattered on his shoulder.

  “Crap!” he exclaimed, staring at the greenish white excrement on his shoulder. “Can you believe this? Those birds just bombed me!”

  Maria looked at the pile on his shoulder and a smile appeared at the corners of her lips. She bit her bottom lip as she tried to fight it, but it spread across her face until she was laughing out of control. She stomped her feet on the step below her.

  “Oh my God!” she laughed. “Oh my God! I’m gonna pee! I’m gonna wet my pants!”

  “It isn’t funny,” Zack grumbled, pulling his shirt away from his skin. The thought of it seeping through the material was disgustingly gross.

  “Yes it is!” Maria wrapped her arms around her stomach. “Oh, yes it is!” She forced herself to calm down. “No one,” she stated, “deserves it more than you do!”

  He fished around in his backpack for something to wipe off the bird dropping and came up empty. Maria handed him a wad of tissues. She was still grinning broadly, but at least her laughter had subsided.

  “Thanks,” he said. He rubbed his shirt, managed to get most of it off, but it still left a large greenish smear on his white shirt. Reassured by her smile and laughter, he asked, “Truce?”

  Her smile faded. “Not in this lifetime. You know Zack, when you were having those visions?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I felt sorry for you because you seemed confused and frightened. I wanted to be able to help you.”

  “That’s what you thought? That I was scared?”

  “Yeah, but do you know what I think now?” Her voice was hard, her eyes cold.

  “I’m afraid to ask,” he said.

  “I wonder if those hallucinations weren’t caused by drugs. I wonder if you’re using.”

  He got to his feet. “Thanks for the tissue,” he said. “I won’t bother you again.”

  “I hope not,” she quipped, and went back to reading her book.

  He bounded down the steps of the Temple of the Skulls. He’d reached the last one when she called out his name. He turned around and looked up. She was flying down the steep steps after him.

  “What do you want?” he asked. “To humiliate me some more?”

  “I’m sorry I said that about the drugs. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have. I don’t do drugs. I never have and I never will.”

  “Can we talk?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure my self-esteem can take it.”

  Maria was silent for a minute. Then she moved close to him, stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Zack?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you like me?” she asked softly.

  “No,” he answered. “You’re like everyone else, always jumping to the wrong conclusions. Plus, you confuse me. I can’t figure out where you’re coming from.”

  “Is that bad? I mean, don’t you like girls who are unpredictable?”

  “I like to know what to expect.”

  The next thing he knew she was kissing him. Clifton’s face appeared in his mind. He took her wrists in his hands and forced her arms from his neck. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.

  Maria looked surprised. “Isn’t it obvious!” She snatched up her backpack, ready to flee.

  Anger came from out of nowhere. Zack grabbed her wrist. “Oh no you don’t. You’re not going to start something and then run away when you don’t get what you think you want.”

  She jerked away, tears filling her eyes. “You’re right. People like you and Sam are the only ones who always manage to get what they want!” She took off again and this time he let her go.

  “Not always,” he whispered, watching her small form vanish around a corner. “In fact, I’d be willing to bet almost never.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Zack sat alone on the bottom step of the Temple of the Giant Jaguar, his depression blocking the sun and muting the noisy monkeys. Scarlet Macaws painted the skies above him, but he barely noticed them. Sights that had amazed him only a few days ago now seemed dull and insignificant.

  A group of Japanese tourists entered the plaza astonished at the sight surrounding them. He watched as they took pictures of everything in sight, every stella, every altar, almost every single step on every staircase. They slowly made their way over to him,
asking if he would be so kind as to take their group picture. He nodded and was handed a Nikon. He zipped off a couple of shots of them, first in front of the temple and then with the jungle in the background. They were so grateful that they insisted on taking his picture in return and writing down his name and address, promising to send him a copy of the picture when they returned home.

  The Great Plaza was no place to be. There were too many happy, curious people enjoying themselves and all Zack wanted to do was find a dark hole, crawl inside, and wallow in his misery.

  Along the south end of the Great Plaza, running from beyond the Temple of the Giant Jaguar, past the Temple of the Masks, the Maya ball court, and the east plaza, loomed the Central Acropolis. Covering four acres, the Central Acropolis consisted of limestone courtyards of varying sizes surrounded by stone palaces and although he’d spent plenty of time passing through the Great Plaza, he’d never paid much attention this imposing structure.

  Two wide staircases led up to the Central Acropolis, one off the Great Plaza and the other from the East Plaza. He climbed the staircase off the Great Plaza and found himself facing a long, narrow building with nine doorways. Nine doorways. He remembered Maria’s story about the Ninth Lord of the Night, and he wondered if there was any connection between these nine doorways and Maria’s nine lords. It wasn’t until after he’d walked the whole length of the building that he realized there was no way to enter the plazas and rooms behind it.

  He descended the staircase, left the Great Plaza, and climbed the East Plaza staircase. Once again an open, elongated room with nine doorways was at the top of the staircase. At the gallery’s rear was a doorway opening to a small chamber. From this chamber he was able to go directly out into the great confusion of buildings and courtyards that made up the Central Acropolis.

  These buildings, some of which were five stories tall, consisted of plastered cell-like galleries divided into rooms. Each floor had as many as nine rooms arranged in a maze and connected by exterior stairways.

  The palaces surrounding the grassy courtyards were elongated, either I shaped or U shaped. The weird thing about all this was the haphazard way the Maya had laid these structures out. They’d been erected at different angles, with no true forty-five degree corners. Plus, the courtyards were trapezoidal: one end being wider than the other. Each courtyard was a different size as well as a different elevation.