by John Bolin
Peter smiled at him. “Follow me,” he shouted over the sound of the rain. “We’ll stay in here tonight.”
With the exception of Diego, the others were anxious to get out of the rain. They pushed against each other to get into the cave, shoulders turning, ducking into the darkness. Diego reluctantly pulled the donkeys in last. Peter pulled the vines back over the entrance and moved in behind the others.
Several of them had turned their flashlights on. Their little beams were crisscrossing the dark cave, illuminating weary faces and wet clothes. The burros were making noise and fussing. Peter could hear Diego speaking to them in Quechua.
“Don’t waste your flashlight batteries,” Peter said. “Gator, where is the kerosene lamp?”
A few of the beams clicked off, a couple of them didn’t. Peter saw Gator rummaging through a saddlebag attached to one of the burros. As he did, the light from his flashlight crossed over Tima’s face. The girl looked frightened and frail. Her eyes were glassy, and she was moving her head around from side to side as if she were lost, like she was looking for something. Poor girl. Even now, she probably couldn’t hold on much longer.
Gator shook his head. “The lamp broke during our little adventure on the river. But here’s the kerosene.” He hefted a red can out of one of the bags and shuffled back.
Peter and Linc worked together to wrap a piece of cotton fabric around the end of a stick. No one else was speaking. They were all watching the men work as if standing and watching had been the specific task assigned to them. Gator held the flashlight as Linc and Peter worked. After the fabric was secure, Peter poured some of the kerosene over the fabric, careful not to waste any of it. He flicked a lighter, and the torch caught quickly, with a burst of light.
The torch was bright, illuminating the faces around the group. They were all standing there, with rat-wet hair and sodden clothes. The light flickered on their faces, all looking completely spent. Exhaustion was setting in. Behind the group, the sun had set behind the clouds and the jungle was now a collection of dark gray shadows. Just in time.
Peter held the torch high. “I know we’re all tired, but we need to make a fire and get dry. Gator and I will see if we can find some dry wood and get a fire going. Linc, get the camera out. Use the light and get some footage. The rest of you can get as comfortable as you can.”
Peter had already decided that the cave was a good thing, a blessing in disguise. They’d spend the night and get some rest. Leave at first light, depending on how Tima was feeling. The cave would give them shelter and protection from the elements. It could even be a base. He and Gator and Linc could split up in the morning and each scout out a different direction.
The options and angles played out in his head as he and Gator began to move around the cave. Peter held the torch ahead of him and made great, sweeping motions with it. The two of them began to get a sense of the size and shape of the cave.
It quickly became clear that the cave was actually a series of caverns and tunnels. It appeared that the one they were in was a central cave, with other tunnels spreading out in all directions. They walked along one of the walls, counting the paces, careful not to get too far from the group behind them.
Peter lifted the torch. He could see that the light from the flickering light illuminated the craggy ceiling twenty or so feet above his head. The air in the cave was musty, and in places the floor and walls were wet.
“Check it out,” Linc said.
Peter turned. Four stalagmites, as big as a man, pointed up from the floor of the cave like pointed pylons. Peter noticed more of the odd rock formations as they walked. Distracted, his foot caught on a rock, and he stumbled and almost fell. He cursed.
“You okay, boss?” Gator said, steadying Peter with his hand.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Peter swept the light behind him to see what he’d tripped on. He kicked his foot in front of him and felt something. A rock? He stopped and dipped the torch to the ground. He froze.
The light from the torch flickered on a round-shaped rock. Looking closer, Peter could see that it wasn’t a rock at all. It was a human skull.
He moved the torch and spotted another bone, maybe an arm, a femur. Nearby, they found a small pile of bones in the crook where the wall of the cave met the floor. Looking closer, Peter could see that the bones seemed to be set out in a very particular manner.
“Looks like they used this place to bury people,” Peter said, though he was actually thinking something different.
“Or sacrifice them,” Gator added with a dry voice.
That was what Peter had been thinking.
They continued along the wall and came across another skeleton, this one slightly smaller than the first. This continued another six or seven times along the entire perimeter of the cave. Peter was no expert, but it looked like these skeletons had been there a long time, maybe hundreds of years. Peter and Gator walked back toward the others.
They decided not to scare them by telling them about the skeletons.
Besides, what harm could a bunch of old bones do?
* * *
Alex awoke with a start.
This time she wasn’t struggling to breathe and didn’t feel the strange pressure on her chest. But she was terribly thirsty. Her throat felt dry and swollen like a cotton ball had been stuck back in it. She cleared her throat and swallowed the phlegm. Her lips were gummy, and she could taste her own breath, foul with sleep. She lay awake for a moment as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the cave.
Lying there, she could make out dark shapes above her as the firelight danced on the ceiling of the cave. She’d fallen asleep next to Tima, but when she rolled over, the girl wasn’t there. At first, she panicked. She sat up, pulled her arms around herself, and scanned the cave.
The fire still flickered but was mostly just coals and popping embers. Peter was awake, sitting near the fire, poking it with a small branch. He’d already seen her, she was pretty sure of that. He seemed to notice everything. Alex spotted Tima sitting away from the other sleeping figures, closer to the darkness of the deeper cave. Alex relaxed. Somewhere in the cave, one of the burros stomped and huffed.
Alex sat there, waiting for the motivation to get up. She had fallen asleep in her wet clothes and realized that she was shivering. Every so often, she could feel a breeze coming from somewhere deeper in the cave, probably a shaft that sucked oxygen from the surface and pulled it through the underground chambers. She swallowed and remembered how thirsty she was.
She stood and stretched. Her whole body ached, even more today than yesterday. She walked over to Peter, stepping over a few sleeping bodies.
Peter acknowledged her with a nod of his head. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just need water. And I thought I’d check on Tima.”
Peter handed Alex a bottle of water. “Have all you want. We’ve got plenty.” He gestured to Tima. “She’s been up for the past hour, crouched over there, muttering something.”
Alex started toward Tima. “Thanks.”
Sound in the cave had a muffled quality to it. Though she could still hear the loud nocturnal insects in the jungle, they were muted and hollow in the stillness of the enclosed space. The crackling of the fire had been the only other sound that Alex had heard. Until now. As she walked closer to Tima, she could hear the girl mumbling.
As she drew closer, she could see that Tima was rocking back and forth and chanting something, a low rhythmic singsong, like a monk. She didn’t recognize the words, but the dialect sounded familiar. Tima had her back to Alex. Her arms were spread out and down, and her palms were extended, like she was praying.
Alex stood directly behind the girl, hoping that her presence there would draw her attention. The girl didn’t turn. “Tima,” she whispered.
Nothing.
Then again, louder this time: “Tima!”
Still, Tima seemed not to hear her. She continued to chant and rock, maybe even a bit faster now.
A
lex felt a chill, the wet clothes and the damp air from the caves. She wrapped her arms around herself again. “Tima! It’s Alex.”
The girl stopped rocking, as if she were suddenly frozen in place. Then, slowly, Tima turned to Alex, not with her whole body but just her head. It pivoted on her shoulders like an owl’s head, oddly inhuman and creepy. Tima’s eyes were closed and her mouth shut tight, as if she was holding her breath.
Alex knelt down by her. “Tima, are you okay?”
Tima’s eyes opened slowly, revealing narrow, snake-like pupils. Her mouth looked like it was going to burst, her face red and veiny, feral-looking, and her eyes ready to pop from her face. When she finally opened her mouth, a long burst of air and noise filled the cave.
Alex stumbled backward and fell. Tima pounced on her like a beast, clawing at her legs with unclipped nails that dug into Alex’s skin.
Alex screamed and kicked at Tima, pushing against her with her arms.
“Get back!” a voice shouted. It was Peter. He held a pistol pointed at Tima.
“No!” Alex shouted, “God, no! Put that down. She’s just scared.”
Peter slightly lowered his gun.
Gator snatched Tima off Alex and held her, thrashing and kicking, in his massive arms.
The others moved in behind Peter, watching, blinking with bleary faces. The burros stomped nervously behind them.
Alex touched her legs and found them bleeding from long, deep scratches. She looked toward the fire, where she knew the first aid kit was, and caught sight of Diego. He was shaking his head and walking in circles, mumbling to himself. He wasn’t happy. He stopped and tugged at Skins’ shirt, saying something.
Skins stepped toward Peter. “He says that the girl has a devil, that we must leave.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Peter said.
Diego pulled his hat on and off and kept walking to the entrance of the cave as if he wanted to run out into the dark jungle. As if anywhere would be safer than the cave. Linc and Gator had both found their weapons and stood at the back of the group, ready. Linc held the video camera in his other hand.
Alex turned back to Tima. Gator had put her on the ground and was pressing her down with a knee to her rib cage. She clawed at the ground and now began chanting again, staring at the darkness of the deep cave.
Alex inched closer until she was a foot from the girl. “Tima, it’s all right.”
The girl pivoted her head to Alex. Her eyes were now mostly white, rolled back up into her sockets. She bared her teeth in a savage smile, breathing in and out in ragged gasps. Alex was struck by the stench of Tima’s breath. She fought the urge to turn away or cough and instead reached out her hand toward the girl.
In a blur of motion, Tima snatched Alex’s arm and bit it, breaking the skin.
Gator grabbed for Tima’s arms, but the girl threw him off as if he were made of paper. She stood up and yanked Alex toward her.
Alex screamed. She was surprised by the girl’s strength and was totally unable to fight back. Though she was scrambling and clawing, Tima’s hold was firm, like an animal’s. Tima tossed Alex in the air, hissing and growling as she did. Alex fell with a thud, sprawled out on the dust.
She turned around to see Tima surrounded. Peter, Gator, and Linc had circled her, guns drawn. In the middle of the circle, Tima stood taller than she had before. Her hands were extended by her sides, fingers dripping with blood, teeth bared, razorlike in the firelight. As the men circled her, she moved and twitched, her head jerking from one man to the next. Then she stopped and seemed to look past them into the darkness of the cave.
She called out, not with her regular voice, but with a screeching, catlike call.
Peter and his men slowly moved closer. Then Peter lifted his hand, as if he was listening for something.
Alex heard it, too.
Coming from behind her, in the shadows of the cave, Alex could hear the sound of chanting, the same singsong chanting she’d heard from Tima. Only now, it seemed to be coming from the cave, too. Her throat squeezed shut in fear. There wasn’t just one voice, but now she was sure she could hear two people chanting in the darkness, barely out of view.
And then another.
* * *
There was a logical explanation for this.
Peter knew it. There had to be. Tima’s sudden behavior change and superhuman strength—it was probably a result of her unknown illness. Strange, of course, but perfectly predictable when understood by science.
Still, he was unnerved at the sounds coming from the darkness of the cave.
“What the heck is that?” Linc asked. “Sounds like five people out there.”
“No way,” Peter said. “It’s just her voice bouncing off the walls. We’ve got to restrain her, keep her from hurting anyone else. Come on. This should be cake. She’s just a girl.”
But he didn’t believe it. He’d seen the way Tima had tossed Gator and then Alex. There was something about it; it was all too strange.
Diego began to shout. He stood just outside the entrance of the cave, sounding miserable. Gator and Skins carried Alex back beside the fire. Gator ripped off his own shirt and made a makeshift bandage for Alex’ arm. Then, Gator and Skins turned back toward Tima.
“Ease in,” Peter said.
The chanting grew louder. Now Peter was sure he could hear several distinct voices. Some of them were low-pitched, like men’s, and others were higher, female sounds. A cluster of breathy, immature voices, like a Russian children’s choir, filled the air along with the others.
That was it. He’d had enough.
He turned and clicked on his flashlight, punching the darkness with the light. “Who’s out there?” he called.
The voices went silent.
“Crap,” Peter said. “Watch the girl.”
Peter walked toward the back wall of the cave, where he’d seen the skeletons. His footsteps echoed against the stone floor as he walked. He could still hear Tima breathing and hissing behind him. He moved, stabbing the darkness with his light. Nothing.
He turned back around. As he did, he was sure he saw something flash in the light, something white. A skeleton?
He swept backward with his flashlight.
A cold breeze picked up from somewhere deep in the cave, chilling the sweat on his face. He stood still for a moment. And heard it again. Not chanting, but laughter, like he’d heard in the forest when he was chasing the jaguar. It lasted only a moment, but he’d heard it, he was certain. He flicked off his light and stared into the cave.
What are you?
“No, no, no, no!” It was Diego’s voice.
Peter spun around. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
One of the burros that had been tied behind Diego was crawling along the floor of the cave on its knees. The movement looked unnatural, and the animal was bellowing in pain. Looking closer, Peter could see that the creature wasn’t crawling, it was being dragged by some unseen force, toward Tima.
“What’s happening?” Alex shouted.
Diego stood, staring at the animal, his face white with fear.
Peter couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. His brain was fighting to comprehend what he was seeing.
The burro was now on its side, kicking and grunting. Bloody foam frothed around its mouth. It stopped five feet from Tima, its body heaving.
Tima, her eyes now white like a pair of cue balls, stretched her bloody hands out toward the animal.
Peter looked at Linc, who was standing near the burro, his hands shaking, his face white. The video camera lay discarded at his feet. They were all paralyzed.
Tima shook her hands and shouted something. The other voices in the cave began the singsong chant again. Tima turned slightly, and the animal was dragged along the plane of her hand, as if an invisible wire connected the two.
Then, with a dramatic motion, Tima lifted her hands in the air—and the animal lifted off the ground into the air. Its legs thrashed beneath it. It bellowed
in pain.
Peter watched helplessly as Tima toyed with the animal, swinging it faster and faster in a broad arc. The voices behind Peter were growing, becoming more intense. The whole scene was like a nightmare. An impossible nightmare.
Tima dropped her hands, and the burro fell. It landed directly atop one of the stalagmites, impaling the animal and killing it instantly.
The smell of burst bowels filled the cave. And another smell Peter recognized. Like rotten eggs.
Tima stood, her chest heaving, her hands at her side. No one moved. Either by choice or by force, Peter didn’t know. Tima slowly tilted her head and turned, her white eyes moving from one person to the next. Her gaze landed on Diego.