Sinkhole

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Sinkhole Page 13

by Deborah Jackson


  He stabbed another handhold and pulled to the next ledge. It seemed Mark had halted, as expected, halfway up the escarpment. Clinging to the cliff face with purple cheeks and bloodless lips. Sucking in air.

  “Are you all right, doctor?” He couldn’t keep the smirk from his face.

  “Just . . . need . . . a quick . . . break.”

  Mark rested his head on the stone in front of him, and Jorge knew he’d be hauling the man up soon.

  “Your wife is waiting,” he taunted. Couldn’t help himself, really. “No time to rest.”

  Mark flashed narrowed eyes above. Through taut lips, he said, “I’m coming, dammit. I haven’t climbed in a few years. Not since Kat—” He left off the sentence, obviously not willing to impart any more personal tidbits to Jorge. Not that Jorge cared what sort of relationship the doctor had with his wife. He only cared that the man was determined.

  “I’m coming,” Mark said again.

  “Good,” said Jorge.

  Mark opened the ascender and rolled it higher. He mirrored Jorge’s movements, gradually slinking upward. Jorge turned back and climbed the last ten meters effortlessly. He didn’t know if he’d have the patience, grim satisfaction or not, to baby this man to the nether passages of the cave. That’s why he was so surprised when he looked down the steep wall and found Mark only a meter below. A minute later, Jorge watched him reach up to grip a stalagmite on the edge and, miracle of miracles, pull himself over the top.

  Rolling over on his side, Mark rested for a second, catching his breath. However, it wasn’t much longer before he sat up and smiled smugly.

  “Thought I didn’t have it in me, didn’t you? You were tempted to cut me loose about halfway up. I could see it in your eyes. But I’m going to be like a leech, Jorge. I’m not letting go.”

  “Very good,” said Jorge, shocked by the doctor’s passion. Just when he thought he had the man pegged, Mark came up with renewed strength, or did something totally unexpected, like shooting the paramilitary general. “But the journey has just begun. We’ll see how strong you are.”

  Mark pushed to his feet and detached the harness. He shoved it into his own pack and shook out his probably very tender muscles. “Lead on.”

  Jorge pulled the rebreather tanks up with the additional rope, hoisted one onto his back, and handed the other to Mark. He pointed to a passageway to his left and marched toward it. “We’re up higher now, so you’ll see a few roots and narrow shafts to the surface. Nothing we could climb out of or get into the cave with—it would have been an easier route if we could have come that way—but enough to let vegetation float down into the cave and feed—”

  “Oh my God!” screamed Mark.

  Jorge pivoted and saw the man brushing frantically at his hair. A few large bats, the vampire variety, fluttered overhead, and a fuzzy tarantula dangled from the ceiling. Two more scuttled over his boots. Mark cringed and sank to the ground, pawing at his head and gasping for air.

  “Get them away. Get them away, dammit!”

  “What is wrong with you?” said Jorge. “You can face a man intent on murder, but you can’t handle a few bats and insects? Get hold of yourself!”

  But Mark’s hysteria wasn’t so easily quelled. He shook one limb, then the other, as if the creatures were crawling all over him. When he finally stopped, he didn’t acknowledge Jorge at all.

  Perhaps with simple instructions . . . “Up,” said Jorge. “Now.”

  Mark blinked and stared at him with unfocused eyes. He seemed locked in another world.

  Jorge grabbed him by the shoulders and roughly jacked him up. “Your wife—” he yelled, “—may be dying!”

  Still nothing registered on the blank face. What could he do? What the hell could he do? He couldn’t just stay here—time was running out—but he couldn’t go on without this man. He still might need him. Jorge bit down on his lip, fighting the overwhelming urge to scream some sacrificial Mayan oath and jam his knife between the good doctor’s ribs.

  “Snap out of it,” he cried, “you worthless stinking gringo!”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Kat gaped at the stone deity, whose jade eyes in a golden mask stared at her from the bottom of the mountain of breakdown. One carved statue would not have left her speechless, but it seemed that Mayan artwork filled the entire cavern. Figurines, miniature bells, cups and bowls of elaborately fashioned pottery, and golden feathered serpents fanned across the rock floor.

  “Why are you stopping, Kat?” asked Ray. “What the—” He scrambled up beside her and lost all faculty of speech.

  Kat smiled at him. “We definitely weren’t the first ones here. Want to look?” She didn’t wait for an answer, but carefully made her way down the jumbled rocks and loose scree to the decorated cavern below. She felt like Howard Carter entering the tomb of King Tutankhamen. Murals adorned the white columns, faded with time and the constant trickle of water through the pigment, but the images were still distinguishable as mythical gods and a king. The glitter of gold and precious stones winked from every corner.

  “Megan’s going to be in seventh heaven.”

  “So this was the cause of your light.” Ray had finally found his voice. “A reflection from the gold and gems.”

  “Hardly,” said Kat. “The spark came when the flashlight was off. These would only shine in the presence of light. It doesn’t explain anything. It only adds more questions. But it is a relief, in a way.”

  “Relief?” Ray turned toward her, his forehead creased.

  “The skeleton we found couldn’t have been the only Maya down here. Look at this. It must be some sort of tomb—maybe the Serpent King’s—and it would have taken dozens of men to transport all these funerary gifts, or whatever they are, from the surface. There’s no way they could have come our way, nor through the crawlway I attempted. There has to be another access into this cavern.” Unless they sealed it afterward, she thought. But she couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud.

  Ray nodded, his eyes blazing. “We’re going to get out of here. And I’m going to find you some help.”

  Kat shook her head, but didn’t respond. The poor man just didn’t get it. She panned her flashlight along the multitude of objects, unable to fathom how or why the Maya had buried all this loot so deeply. Glyphs jumped out at her, the snake-head prominent. Megan’s Site Q held far more mysteries than just a lost city. Maybe the Maya had sketched the story here, in hieroglyphs on the walls. Maybe they had even pinpointed the location of their entrance.

  “I think we need Megan.”

  “She might be able to shed some light on this,” said Ray, with a chuckle. “I’ll just look around some, and then we’ll return to camp and tell her what we’ve found.”

  “No,” said Kat. “I don’t think you should explore this without her. You might disturb something you shouldn’t. Megan would never forgive you. I think you should go back now and get her. I’ll stay here.”

  Ray frowned. “In the dark?”

  “Of course in the dark. You’ll need the flashlight to find your way.”

  “I don’t like leaving you alone in the dark. Why don’t you come back with me?”

  Kat sighed, long and deep, and sank to the ground. “I can’t do any more climbing right now. That breakdown hill . . . I’ve been running on empty for too long. I need a rest and a snack. I’ll be fine. The dark isn’t dangerous if you’re not moving.”

  Ray still looked reluctant to leave her. He chewed on his lower lip and cast a glance behind him at the rock pile that he would have to climb to reach the others. Behind that and the columns, she would be out of his line of sight, isolated in what appeared to be an ancient tomb, with a strange light source.

  “What if that light you saw . . .”

  “Ray, we need Megan. This is beyond my expertise, and we should let the others know where we are, anyway. Nothing is going to grab me in the dark. I’m not afraid. I’m not—” She was going to say Mark. “Just go back and don’t worry. Th
is hoard of treasure will keep me company.”

  Ray met her eyes. She noted the flicker of greed behind the dark irises. Not surprising. She felt it herself, imagining greater wealth and its trappings, something she probably wouldn’t have time to enjoy. No doubt Megan would look at this differently—a treasure trove of knowledge from the past. She would imagine the story behind each artifact, the divine or human significance. And Pete, the slimy character, would probably go mad over this. Maybe try to make them disappear and keep this sunken hoard to himself. Perhaps paranoia was taking hold, but still . . .

  “I don’t want—” He tried to protest one more time, but she waved him away.

  “Get going. The sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll be back.”

  Ray sighed, took the flashlight from her outstretched hand, and turned away. The light cast a moonlight glow on the tower of breakdown and left the Mayan cache in shadow. The grim masks and sculptures now seemed to take on demon-like qualities. Snakes’ fangs and jaguars’ toothy snarls yawned out of the darkness as if she’d never left the jungle above-ground. Ray climbed higher, the flashlight beam fading to a small circle. He crossed the peak of shattered karst and the light disappeared altogether.

  Suddenly Kat felt the weight of rock above her like never before, and the shards of stalactites dangling tenuously from the ceiling. The air seemed thicker too, a dense cloud of humidity that stroked her skin. And all around her, the cloying smell of decay. That smell had never left this place, from the ancient city above to the vast anthill network below. Now it seemed pervasive, clogging her nostrils and making her want to gag. Or was that the gnawing pain at her breast? She felt so nauseous that she almost called out to Ray to come back. But she shoved her rising gorge back down. For goodness’ sake, she could handle a little darkness, even among the snarling images—since that was all they were: idols, statuary, inanimate objects. The darkness was full now, complete.

  Yet again, it wasn’t. The wink of light appeared, for a fraction of a second, farther down the cavern. It seemed nearby, not amidst the funerary treasure, but not too far beyond it. She could easily walk there.

  Of course she’d have to walk through a forest of trinkets and figurines. Megan would kill her if she crushed any one of them under her feet. But if she felt very carefully in front of her, inched worm-like along the ground—something she’d done countless times through the winding tunnels in the earth’s crust—she wouldn’t damage any priceless artifacts. Kat lowered herself to the smooth stone floor and began to cleave through the offerings toward the blinking light.

  Her hands played over sleek pottery and jagged stone heads, bristly stone feathers carved to needle-sharp ridges and satin-smooth jade rings and earrings. She could feel the filigree etched on golden masks and the appliquéd stipple of clay pottery. It was tedious, yet wondrous, to explore Mayan masterpieces by fingertip, tracing the detailed renderings and visualizing them in her head. She nudged forward through the maze, keeping her eyes peeled for the flashing light. Now she could tell it had a neon green tint.

  She felt carefully in front of her, crawling on hands and knees, thankful to have strapped on her kneepads before venturing out. Another clay pot, another sharp dagger of obsidian, a bust with a feathered headdress. A smooth column of limestone rose up in front of her. She zigzagged around it and found the light considerably closer. Now she saw several flashes, brighter and over a wider area, almost like a thin patina hovering in the air. She touched another smooth bust with empty eye sockets and one to her left that was the same. As she groped below it, she felt her fingers slip into the empty spaces between sharp-edged parallel ridges. Beyond that, she came upon a long, rounded shaft with a bulbous head. Fear clenched Kat’s heart. This was no longer a treasure trove. For the second time in this nightmare journey she’d come upon a mass grave.

  Even though nothing stirred around her, she could picture the bodies, feel pain and death. Her heart galloped in panic, a hand seized her chest, and electric bolts of agony shot through her body. Then the perfect darkness of the cave entered her mind.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Megan blinked bleary eyes as Ray shook her awake with his rock-roughened hands.

  “Megan, you have to see this,” he said, his voice as squeaky as a child’s on his first trip to Disneyland. “Kat and I have found something.”

  With a protracted rub of her eyes, Megan gradually sat up, her muscles still groaning from the taxing journey and the battering in the sump two days before. She shook off the sleep and stiffness and peered a little closer at Ray. His face held a strange sheen; his eyes were sparkling.

  “You’ve found an exit?” she asked.

  “No.” Ray shook his head vigorously. “Not quite that good yet. But we found something that you might think is better.”

  Now he had her attention. Megan cast aside her thermal blanket and leaped to her feet, despite the popping of joints and screaming protest of her muscles. “What could be better than an exit? Tell me!”

  Ray grinned, but he didn’t answer immediately. He winked and captured her hand, sending a shockwave through her body. She promptly tried to break free, but he would have none of that as he began pulling her into the creepy karst forest. “I won’t tell you when it will be so much better to show you.”

  He aimed the flashlight to the right and tugged her around the nearest columns.

  “What about Pete?” she asked, glancing behind her. They couldn’t just leave him alone without telling him where they’d gone, despite his recent behavior. But Pete was no longer curled up in his blanket, sound asleep. He was standing beside them, silhouetted in the faint reflection of their flashlight.

  “Yeah, what about Pete?” he growled.

  Ray stiffened. He shed Megan’s hand, much to her relief, and turned toward the man. “O-of course you can come. I just thought you were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you.”

  Pete scowled. “Yet it was okay to wake Megan.”

  Ray looked down and shuffled his feet. “Well, what we discovered is in her area of expertise. It has nothing to do with microorganisms. We were going to fetch you after you’d slept.”

  “Right,” said Pete. “You would have left me in the dark, without a clue as to where you’d gone, while you gallivanted over to the other side of the cavern. Really thoughtful.”

  “Well, you did pull a knife on us,” said Megan, instantly regretting it after she’d opened her mouth. She shriveled as his irate gaze fell upon her.

  “I see,” he said. “I made a mistake when you startled me, so that gives you leave to leave me.”

  “No,” said Megan. “That’s not what I meant. It just gives us leave to be cautious about waking you up.”

  His face softened at her remark and he actually chuckled. “Okay. You have a point. So what is this fantastic discovery, Ray?”

  “You’ll have to see for yourself.” Ray’s shoulders relaxed, but his lips still seemed taut. He didn’t look ready to trust the man yet. “It’s about fifty meters into the center of the cavern.”

  He waved his arm to beckon them forward, then angled onto the narrow slippery path between the columns. Megan soon forgot the argument with Pete as they shuffled through crystal limestone dust and headed toward a mound of breakdown. What could Ray and Kat have found? Another body, perhaps? But that didn’t explain the passion in Ray’s eyes. Maybe a relic or two. Her body tingled at the prospect. Another jade ornament or a golden trinket would make this discovery absolutely sublime.

  Ray climbed the unsteady slope of rubble as sure-footed as an alpaca. Megan followed, but with much less finesse, her feet slipping on the slick rock again and again. At the midpoint of the pile, she gave up and crawled to the summit, heaving a sigh of relief that her weary body had managed yet another climb. Excitement and anticipation had borne her this far, but she didn’t know if it could carry her any farther. When she looked up, though, any sensation of pain or fatigue fled. There was no sensation at all except rapture.


  “My God!” she hollered. “It can’t be!”

  Ray turned toward her, beaming and chuckling. “It is.”

  Megan hardly noticed the treacherous climb down, as her feet danced over the jumbled rocks. “I’ve never felt so . . . I never imagined . . .”

  She approached the first statue and stroked it lovingly. She traced the intricate patterns of the mask that were etched in gold and knelt beside the gleaming obsidian dagger. Snake renderings were everywhere, and the feathered image of the king. “They didn’t use the pyramid.”

  “Do you mean as the king’s tomb?” asked Ray, as giddy as she was.

  “Yes,” said Megan. “They used the mountain as a natural pyramid, the way the Egyptians eventually used the Valley of the Kings for the same reason. They found a way in and transported all these offerings to the gods to be buried with the king. His sarcophagus must be nearby. This is just too incredible to be true.”

  “It looks pretty real to me,” said Pete. He’d skidded to a stop behind her and was now bending over the golden effigy of a bat, perhaps Zotz, the Underworld god. He touched it tentatively, a grin lighting his usually sober face. “We will be wealthy as kings with this discovery, won’t we?”

  Megan stiffened. “Yes,” she said abruptly. “Maybe. But the relics should be distributed to Mexican museums. It’s the archaeological significance that makes it so remarkable.” Of course fame, prestige, and some wealth would accompany their discovery, but she wasn’t about to ignite more greed in this man’s eyes. This was her moment of triumph and she had no intention of sharing it with a knife-toting lunatic.

 

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