The Bonita Protocol

by P J Skinner

  Galo turned pale.

  ‘Oh no,’ he said. ‘I knew something was wrong, but not that.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘There was an explosion in the mine last week. They sealed the entrance with dynamite.’

  ‘Where was Sam when this happened?’

  ‘She had planned to be in the mine with Napoleon, but Rhett told me that she had gone home because her father had taken ill.’

  ‘So, she’s trapped in there?’

  ‘I don’t know. I believed Rhett. Why would I doubt him?’

  Alfredo almost fainted as the reality of the situation dawned on him.

  ‘Oh my God. Sam’s been in there nearly a week, if she didn’t die in the explosion.’

  He held his head in his hands, trying not to weep. Galo gave a pleading look to his wife who left the room.

  ‘Did you love her?’ he said.

  ‘Love her? Of course, I do. She saved my life.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. There is no way out of there that I know of. I have mapped every inch of the interior.’

  ‘Are you sure? Sam showed me some Inca tools she found in a cave near the mine. There must be a chance that their workings link with the tunnels in the mine.’

  Galo Martin rubbed his chin in his fingers.

  ‘There is a chance but I don’t know where they are.’

  ‘I can’t leave her in there. Is there anyone who could help?’

  Galo sighed.

  ‘There is a man…’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘It’s problematic. He’s known around here as Señor Muerte. When we were boys, he used to roam the caves by himself escaping from his violent father.’

  ‘Señor Muerte? Sam met him on the way to camp. Maybe he would help us.’

  ‘I doubt it. He’s not the helpful sort. He kills for fun.’

  ‘Do you know where he lives?’

  ‘He’s moved into his mother’s house.’

  ‘What are we waiting for?’

  ‘I should warn you. Damien doesn’t take to strangers.’

  Twenty minutes later they were standing in front of a large wooden gate. Galo Martin knocked on it with a stone he found in the road. The indents in the wood suggested that it wasn’t the first time someone had done it.

  ‘They can’t hear you knocking unless you use a stone,’ said Galo, by way of explanation. ‘When we were small, no one ever went in. We were all terrified of Damien’s father. He had a bullwhip on the porch.’

  The door opened a crack. Damien Galarza stood in the gloom of the overgrown garden. A smell of dog faeces wafted through the gap.

  ‘Damien, it’s Galo, Galo Martin.’

  Señor Muerte drew his eyebrows together and peered at them through screwed up eyes.

  ‘Galo? What the fuck?’

  He threw the gate open. It creaked on its hinges and almost wrenched itself free of the post.

  ‘And who’s this clown?’ he said, pointing at Alfredo.

  ‘My name is Alfredo Vargas. I’m a friend of Sam’s.’

  ‘And how does that make you less of a clown?’ said Damien, but he turned to walk towards the house. ‘Shut the gate,’ he shouted.

  Once inside the musty sitting room, Alfredo noticed a collection of Inca artefacts of extraordinary beauty dotted around on the otherwise empty surfaces of the shelves and cupboards lining the walls. No sign of any ‘good’ china or ornaments. Perhaps Señor Muerte’s violent father had smashed them all.

  ‘What do you want?’ said Damien. ‘I don’t like visitors. Especially over-educated nancy boys from Calderon.’

  Galo coughed and shook his head at Alfredo.

  ‘Quite right,’ said Alfredo. ‘I can’t abide them myself but this is a matter of life or death. We think that Sam has been sealed into the mine at Cerro Calvo.’

  A shadow passed over Damien’s face but his reaction did not betray any concern.

  ‘So, the stupid gringa bitch has got herself trapped? What’s that got to do with me?’

  ‘Please Damien, Sam may be dead or dying. We need your help to get into the Inca workings from above the mine.’

  ‘I’ve never been there. I can’t help you.’ He stood up. ‘I’ll thank you to leave now.’

  ‘But--’

  ‘Get out. Now!’

  Galo and Alfredo shuffled towards the door. Alfredo looked around for something that might help them and his eyes alighted on the Inca hammerstone which occupied pride of place over the fireplace.

  ‘You’ve got one too,’ he said.

  Damien glared at him. ‘I’ve got one what?’ he said.

  ‘An Inca hammerstone.’ He paused. ‘Did she give it to you?’

  Damien did not answer. He pointed at the door indicating that they should leave.

  ‘She gave me one too,’ said Alfredo, ignoring the gesture. ‘She must have really admired you to give it to you. Sam’s pretty hard to win over at the best of times.’

  Galo grunted in agreement. Damien turned his back on them for a minute as if gathering his thoughts. When he turned around, his eyes were glistening.

  ‘They say there are Inca caves above the mine but I’ve never found them.’

  Galo shook with agitation.

  ‘Sam did. That’s where she found the tools. She went up to the mountain with the Torres boys to look at the geology. Maybe they know where the workings are.’

  ‘What are we waiting for?’ said Damien. ‘I’ve always wanted to see those caves.’

  Alfredo almost cried with relief.

  ‘Let’s meet in twenty minutes at the restaurant. I’ve got to go and put on my boots and get some supplies for the trip,’ said Galo.

  ‘Ten minutes,’ said Damien.

  Despite their best efforts it was half an hour before they set out for Cerro Calvo. Galo Martin’s wife packed enough food for an army, including the batch of almond biscuits in a tin. Galo dug out two sleeping bags, some spray paint and some plastic sheeting from his storeroom. Alfredo bought a tank of water and hired a mule from Pepe to carry it up the hill. They loaded the water, sleeping bags, plastic and the box of supplies onto the mule and set out for the half way house.

  Alfredo found the walk to be an ordeal. He had not done any real exercise for weeks and his whole body complained as he forced his way up hill. Both Galo and Damien forged ahead, skipping over the rocks like goats and leaving him far behind. By the time he arrived, they had already downed their drinks and were heading out again.

  They arrived at Cerro Calvo at dusk. Selma came running out to meet them. She had the remains of a black eye and a huge bruise on her cheek. She stopped short as she recognised the man she knew as Señor Muerte. Her hand flew to her mouth. Galo stepped forward.

  ‘Señora Selma, can you put us up for the night? We’re here to find Sam.’

  Selma looked as if she would faint. Tears sprang from her eyes and poured down her cheeks as she nodded, speechless. She showed Alfredo to Sam’s room ‘as she left it’ and Galo to Rhett’s quarters. Damien took a bunk in the worker’s block.

  ‘I’m happy to sleep anywhere,’ he said.

  Selma gave him a wide berth the whole evening, making Marlon take them their food. Javier had disappeared but no one found that surprising. The geologists sat with Damien, Galo and Alfredo. They were more than a little starstruck by the legend that was Señor Muerte. He ignored them and kept his head low over his food, eating without looking up.

  ‘Where did Sam get that Inca tool from?’ said Alfredo.

  ‘In a cave,’ said Marlon.

  ‘She fell in taking a pee,’ said Kennedy, and they both sniggered.

  ‘She might be dead,’ said Galo. ‘Have some respect.’

  ‘Do you think she was inside when the mine was sealed?’ said Marlon.

  ‘Selma heard Rhett discussing it with Javier.’

  Kennedy looked like he might cry.

  ‘Sam was kind to us,’ said Marlon.

  ‘Can you take us to the caves?’<
br />
  ‘Yes, we know where they are,’ said Kennedy. ‘Why do you want to go there?’

  ‘There may be a way down to the other levels from there,’ said Alfredo.

  ‘So, we might find her alive?’ said Marlon.

  ‘It’s our only chance,’ said Galo.

  ‘We leave at dawn,’ said Damien.

  The next day, they set out in the cold mist of the early morning. The sun had not yet risen and only their hot cup of sweet coffee gave them some heat. Selma had risen at four in the morning to make breakfast. She filled a flask with tea using a teabag from Sam’s room and gave it to Alfredo.

  ‘Thanks. She’ll be desperate for a cup of tea,’ he said.

  ‘I’ll be praying for you to find her,’ said Selma.

  They all knew that the chances of finding Sam alive were miniscule but no one was brave enough to voice their doubts. Damien in particular showed no outward signs that he was unsure.

  ‘Let’s go and get our girl,’ he said.

  Alfredo almost wept with emotion but he managed to put one foot in front of the other despite his cold and tired legs. Don’t die yet, Sam, we’re coming to get you.

  Chapter XXIII

  The Inca working had narrowed so much that Sam had to squirm through it, squeezing her body through the opening. Her belt caught on a protruding piece of rock and she struggled to fight the attack of panic surging through her body. The wind-up torch flickered and died, and she floated in a dark sea of claustrophobia, her heart beat the only sound in the darkness. She lay panting in the wormhole trying to wind some power back into the light with awkward arms.

  After about ten minutes she managed a half charge and keeping the switch on one bulb, she recommenced her slow progress along the tunnel. She negotiated a tight bend almost crying with fear and suddenly the rucksack disappeared and her hands fell free outside the constricted space. The light hanging from her wrist shone on the floor of a much bigger working. She cried out in relief and slid out of the working down onto her hands. She landed in a crumpled heap at the bottom on top of her rucksack.

  Panting with exertion, she righted herself and ratcheted the handle of the wind-up torch again to charge it. She switched the light up to full beam so she could examine her surroundings. The cross-section of the atrium was lozenge shaped, rising to a point high above the floor. The walls were pockmarked with workings leading off into the darkness.

  She took out her compass to orientate herself with regards to the hillside as she had lost her bearings in the tunnels. To her dismay, the front glass had smashed and the handles were missing, possibly as a result of the drop from the last working. She took a deep breath to calm herself. It is not the end of the world. She would try the exits one by one, marking them with spray paint so she did not get lost or search them more than once.

  She ate a row of squares from her half bar of chocolate, letting them melt on her tongue and luxuriating in their sweet creamy taste. Then she collected a bottle of water from a trickle that fell out of an open crack in the roof. The air did not smell stale which encouraged her. There must be an opening to the outside somewhere if she could find it.

  Using the spray paint, she marked the hole from which she had emerged with an x and then entered the first working on the left. It narrowed down almost immediately into a dead end. She shone the torch at the roof of the tunnel to check for exits but there were none.

  Backing out of the working, she carefully sprayed an x on the wall and headed for the next one. She did the whole left side of the vaulted chamber, entering the workings and exploring them to their end, spraying arrows on the wall to mark the trail back to the vault so that she wouldn’t get lost as she explored their complicated bifurcations.

  Then she started on the right side, pushing herself to keep going despite her flagging energy. She ate the last of her chocolate but with only two tunnels left she hadn’t found a way out. Exhausted by her exertions, she found a dry spot and lay down with her head on her rucksack. A quick nap.

  ***

  As the mists cleared, the group trekked up towards Cerro Calvo along the Inca trail following the ridge between the camp and Monterico. Alfredo stopped to gaze down at the chaotic scene, fuzzy under a layer of smog from the swarm of generators that ran the stamp mills and the hammer drills.

  ‘Sodom and Gomorrah,’ said Galo.

  Damien cackled.

  The geologists led the group up the slope to the clearing where they had found the cave.

  ‘We’re here,’ said Marlon, who had been leading the mule up the hill and now proceeded to unload the supplies.

  ‘I don’t see any cave,’ said Galo.

  ‘Go and take a pee behind that bush,’ said Kennedy.

  ‘I will,’ said Alfredo. ‘I’m bursting.’

  He disappeared into the shrub and could be heard thrashing around. Then a shout and a muffled thud.

  ‘Alfredo, did you find it?’ said Galo.

  Alfredo emerged rubbing his hip. He smiled ruefully.

  ‘Yes, I found it. We can leave the sleeping bags, water and plastic sheeting in the mouth of the cave and take the rest of the stuff with us. I brought spray paint so we can make markings on the walls to indicate where we have already been and to point the way back to the entrance. That way we can split up without anyone getting lost.’

  Alfredo took lumps of ham and cheese and two apples from the food sent up by Galo’s wife.

  ‘Steady on there, leave some for us,’ said Damien.

  ‘I’m packing some in my bag for Sam. She hasn’t eaten for a week.’

  ‘If she’s still alive,’ muttered Marlon.

  Alfredo ignored him. He put Sam’s rations into a small Tupperware box and put it in his satchel. He was ravenous after the unaccustomed amount of walking he had been doing but there was no time to lose.

  ‘Okay, let’s do three groups. Marlon with Damien, Kennedy with Alfredo and I’ll go by myself. Let’s do four hours today. Come out at dusk. Don’t forget to take spare batteries for your torch,’ said Galo.

  Alfredo was struck by the thought that Sam’s batteries would have run out long ago. How could she be alive? Or was she sitting in the dark waiting to die? He didn’t say anything but the expressions on the faces of the others told him they were thinking the same thing.

  ‘Let’s go,’ he said.

  They entered the cave together, combined torches lighting the gallery, and made their way along the tunnel until they reached the pile of Inca tools. Alfredo and Damien gasped in unison as their torches illuminated the shaped pieces of granite.

  ‘Holy crap and all the saints,’ said Alfredo.

  ‘Treasure,’ said Damien, who bent down to pick one up, running his hand over it and weighing it in his palm.

  ‘We can take some samples anytime,’ said Galo. ‘Let’s get going. Alfredo and Kennedy, take the bifurcation on the right. We’ll take the one on the left.’

  The group split in two and disappeared into the darkness. Alfredo followed the full beam of Kennedy’s torch up a slope to where the tunnel again divided. They marked the wall with an arrow pointing back towards the door and continued up one branch of the tunnel which pinched in and out. They found only dead ends and cave-ins. It was the same story in the other branch.

  Alfredo tried not to lose hope but the finality of the blocked tunnels filled him with gloom. When they convened at the entrance at the end of the afternoon, the other group had a similar tale of woe.

  ‘There is a complex below the primary level that we didn’t search today,’ said Galo. ‘Tomorrow we should search there.’

  ‘We only need one lucky break,’ said Alfredo. ‘Sam’s not stupid. She will have made her way upwards somehow. We have to find a way to go down and meet her.’

  After agreeing to the plan for the next day, they ate the remains of the egg sandwiches and hunks of cheese and salami on bread. Alfredo took some of the almond biscuits and an apple and put them in the Tupperware box to replace the sandwiches. D
amien watched him as he pressed it shut.

  ‘She’s dead, you know. Probably died in the explosion,’ he said.

  Alfredo’s head jerked up.

  ‘No, she isn’t. You don’t know her. She’s forged of steel inside.’

  Damien smirked.

  ‘I thought you were supposed to be married. Does your wife know about Sam?’

  ‘That I love her. Yes, she does. We both love Sam. She saved our lives. That’s why I’m here. We owe her.’

  Damien looked thoughtful.

  ‘She’s quite a girl,’ he said.

  ***

  An ice-cold drop of water fell on her cheek like a stab wound. Sam jerked awake in fright. How long had she been asleep? She hauled herself into a sitting position. All of her limbs were stiff and she shivered with cold. She rooted around in her rucksack in the dark for something to eat and then remembered she had no food left. They’ll be here soon to rescue me. I have to keep going upwards.

  To her horror, the wind-up torch would not switch on after she had wound it. She sighed and wound the handle for another full minute before trying the switch again. Nothing happened. She pulled the switch back and forward with her thumb with increasing desperation. Then she wound it for another minute and tried again but it still wouldn’t come on.

  Faint with fear, she shook the torch but no sound broke the silence. Nothing had come loose. The manufacturer could never have imagined that someone would use it continuously for so long. The little motor had given out and the darkness had imprisoned her. The trap had finally been sprung for good and her luck had run out. She hyperventilated with panic and leaned forward as the nausea enveloped her. The profound darkness of the cavern resembled a velvet blanket which rose up to receive her as she slipped into unconsciousness.

  ***

  They awoke to the sound of thunder outside the cave. Torrents of rain fell from the granite sides of Cerro Calvo and washed away the soil from the platform. Dark bags around the eyes of everyone in the group spoke volumes about the lack of sleep afforded by the cold and the hard floor of the cave entrance. Gloom and pessimism had infiltrated the group during the night.

  ‘She must be dead by now. It’s freezing up here,’ said Kennedy, his face blue with cold.