“Hello?” He called out, listening for a response. He heard nothing more than the constant dirge of the jungle at night. There was a chorus of bugs and birds, singing their night-songs to the wind. He paused a moment longer. Hearing nothing, he paced slowly through the circle, studying the altar, and then the standing stones.
In the distance, the beating of drums began to echo in his chest. When he became aware of the feeling as a sound, he stood and turned around, trying to figure out where it was coming from, but then, they just stopped.
He turned, straining his eyes to see across the jungle in the dark. The main plaza of Chichén Itzá was nearly a mile and a half away. Surely someone’s radio wasn’t playing that loudly this time of night. Were they? A bright red glow across from the altar warmed his shoulders. It illuminated the stone in front of him. A scream erupted from the void around him and he turned abruptly to see what it was. A dark form blocked the red glow. It came crashing towards him and tumbled out onto the ground in front of him, rolling, like a bowling ball. There was no time to react. It took him down like a lone five-pin.
Chapter 11
Rowan realized he was lying twisted with his throbbing head against the standing stone. There was a weight on top of him. “Base camp to Rowan,” the radio lying on the ground just out of reach squawked as he came to his senses. The pounding in his head was horribly persistent.
His hand reached out in the darkness for the radio, but came to rest on something soft, warm... human.
“Base camp to Rowan! What’s going on up there? Was that you screaming?”
He managed to sit up and roll the body off of him. He lay the person aside, finding his flashlight. “Rowan? Come in Rowan?” The desperate call went unanswered as he sat on his knees, inspecting the form. He fought to remain upright against the spinning world around him.
She was unconscious. There was no evidence of physical injury from his cursory inspection... no blood anyway. She was tall but well-formed; more robustly made than his wife. She was dressed in what appeared to be a historically accurate representation of an ancient Maya woman’s outfit. The cloth band around her breasts was red, and the skirt around her hips was a slightly darker color, though it was hard to tell for sure what color it was in the dark. Crimson, or possibly a muted black. She had metal cuffs around her wrists, and a beaded thong tied around one bicep. She had a gold hoop in one ear, and her hair was tied back and adorned with feathers and shells. A half-disk of what appeared to be gold, or possibly brass, was tied at her neck with a leather cord. She had been painted in bright colors all over her exposed body.
“Rowan!” This time the voice wasn’t from the radio, it came from the path below. “Rowan! Are you hurt?”
He still didn’t answer. He was breathless and confused. The woman stirred, wincing as she rolled her head. Rowan’s neck and shoulders were already starting to grow stiff from the impact, but he was more concerned for her. He took her hand as she groaned. He looked around to see where she had come from. He was quite sure he’d hit his head when she crashed into him. Had he been hallucinating? Had she really come from a burning orb of fire in the jungle, or did he have a concussion?
“Rowan,” Jean-René was at his elbow. Dr. Rick and the team arrived just behind him. Alejandro had the camera running. “Are you okay?”
“Who is that?” Alejandro asked. Jean-René took Rowan’s arm. He lifted his friend to his feet, but Rowan’s knees buckled. He sank back to the ground, as the world tilted, and consciousness escaped him.
* * *
Rowan was lying flat on his back on a stretcher under the lights that had been set up for the scientific teams that had come to Chichén Itzá to see the end of the world. He could hear voices around him, long before he could get his eyes open. When he did, he realized the whole team was standing around, looking down at him.
“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty.” Jean-René squatted down beside the stretcher. “We thought you were dead.”
“I almost wish I was.” Rowan winced. Every muscle in his neck and back were screaming. “What the hell happened?”
“Where’d you find the girl?” Enrique appeared over him.
“She found me.” He grunted, rolling his eyes. “Came running at me out of nowhere.”
“Who is she?”
“Looks like one of the historical reenactors,” Enrique said. “But the group I met earlier... they don’t recognize her. She’s not with them.”
Rowan rolled over onto his side, wincing as he pushed himself up with his elbow. He was stiff and unable to turn his head. “Where is she?”
She wasn’t far. Paramedics were loading her into the back of an ambulance. Rowan managed to get up, with a hand from Jean-René. He staggered over to the ambulance. “Where are you taking her?” He asked, noting they had her in restraints. An IV had been started and Rowan suspected they’d given her something to keep her calm. As a former paramedic, he knew the protocols if she’d been combative when she came to. Alejandro came over and asked the same question in Spanish.
“They are taking her to the hospital in Mérida,” he said to Rowan. “He says if you want to see her, you can go there.”
“Shouldn’t they be taking Rowan to the hospital too? He’s been unconscious for like twenty minutes. Look at him, he can’t turn his head. He’s got a goose-egg on his scalp the size of a softball.” Jean-René protested.
“I’m fine,” Rowan said, at the same moment the paramedic said something seemingly to the same effect in Spanish. He turned away as the door closed, and the ambulance pulled away. Rowan nearly fell over as he stumbled to a large flat rock and sat down on it.
“Rowan, you’re not fine,” Alejandro said. He and Jean-René were each at his side as Enrique came to look him over. “You’re as white as a sheet.” Rowan pushed him away.
“That was the craziest thing I ever saw.” Rowan sat with his head in his hands, shaking. “I don’t know what happened.”
“Tell me what you think happened,” Jean-René said, his hand on his friend’s back.
“I had the weirdest feeling, like I wasn’t alone. I set up the digital recorder to try to do an EVP session,” he said. “Then the EMF detector started going crazy. I thought maybe I’d walked over some sort of ley line or hot spot. Then I heard ...” he hesitated. His voice was unsteady as he closed his eyes, trying to collect himself.
“What did you hear?” Jean-René asked.
“I heard... Lauren,” he said. “She called my name.” He glanced up at Jean-René. “Then I heard the drums, and I turned around. It was like a ball of fire, right in front of me. A shadow came flying out of it. It hit me with so much force... and then I was on the ground, with her on top of me.”
“Lauren?”
“No, that woman...” he said. “She came out of the fire... and the drums stopped.”
“Are you sure she didn’t just shine a flashlight in your face and try to tackle you?” Enrique asked, also at his knee.
Rowan shook his head. “I could smell something burning.”
“You smelled the fire?”
“It was like... it smelled like...” he struggled to find the words, hanging his head. “You know how it smells when you go to a barbecue? Like wood and smoke... and...”
“And flesh?” Jean-René said the words he could not.
* * *
Rowan and his team were among the thousands that gathered to observe the phenomenon as the sun rose on the eastern horizon. The glow of it cast a shadow on the stairs of the temple, creating the illusion of a snake descending on the stair-stepped sides of the El Castillo. “For this reason, this structure was also known as the Temple of Kukulkan, the feathered serpent,” he said, looking into the camera. “Kukulkan was just one of the 250-some gods worshipped by the ancient Maya, and as the sun rises on the day that was supposed to be the end of the world, I can’t help but hear the words of the song by REM... it’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine. How about you, Jean-René?”<
br />
“I feel like a margarita.” He chuckled.
“That sounds good.” Rowan gave him a thumbs up as the red light on the camera went off. “Let’s get out of here.”
* * *
It was late afternoon before they got past the congested roads and back to the resort. Because it was still early, they had the bar to themselves. A margarita wasn’t nearly enough to soothe the tight muscles in Rowan’s neck and back. A second margarita in the hot tub finally provided minimal relief.
“I’ll go to the hospital tomorrow and see if I can talk to the woman,” Enrique said, setting a third margarita on the concrete deck next to Rowan’s half empty glass. He climbed in and sat beside Rowan.
“I want to go with you,” Rowan said, unable to turn his head, he had to look at Enrique sideways. “Maybe they’ll give me some muscle relaxers.”
“If I had some, I’d give them to you,” he said. “Tequila is the best I have to offer.”
“And I’ll take it.” Rowan reached for his half-empty glass and drained it. He then reached for the glass Enrique had brought him and drained it too.
“I know this señorita in Mérida who gives the most amazing massage,” Enrique said, sitting back and closing his eyes. “So freaking hot...”
“I’m a married man,” Rowan said. “I’ve been away from my wife too long. Please don’t do that to me.”
Enrique grinned, wickedly. “Sorry dude,” he said.
“So I take it you’re not married or otherwise attached?” Rowan asked. In the few days they’d known each other, they’d talked of little else but work.
“No.” Enrique shook his head. “I haven’t found a woman who will wander the jungle with me. Most girls aren’t into books, or jungles or underground archaeological dig-sites.”
“Not true. They are out there,” Rowan said. “If Lauren could be here, she would.”
“When is the baby due?”
“Not until February,” Rowan said.
“Is this your first?”
“Yes.” Rowan’s expression grew wistful. “We were at a meeting trying to get a permit to film an episode at the Arab Split near the Sea of Azov. That’s in Crimea... well technically, Ukraine. Anyway, Lauren suggested we set up for us to film at a nearby dig sight at sunrise. I had no idea the whole thing was a set up.” Rowan closed his eyes. Just thinking about Lauren and that joyous moment made his muscles ease. “Jean-René had the cameras rolling when the team invited me to come help them dig out an artifact. They handed me a brush and a pallet knife. I set to work while they moved on to other objects they’d identified. After a moment, I freed the object buried in the sand and brushed it off as I picked it up. It was a pregnancy test... a positive pregnancy test.”
Enrique nearly snorted in his drink. “That’s how you found out?”
Rowan nodded. “It took me a moment to figure out what was going on, but when I looked at Lauren, I knew. I lost it. Right there on camera, I started bawling like a big baby. I’ve never been so happy. I crawled out of the excavation and hugged her so hard I thought I might break her.”
“Boy or girl?”
“We won’t know until it gets here,” he said. “She didn’t want to find out.”
“Old fashioned woman, huh?”
Rowan’s face lit up brightly at the thought of her. “You’d have to know my wife.”
“Bring her next time you come back,” he said. “The stones will still be here.”
“She’s going to be pissed when she learns we went diving in a cenote,” Rowan said.
“Maybe it’s for the best she didn’t come along then,” Enrique said.
They sat in amiable silence for a while. “I heard Alejandro say something about flights back to the States. Will you be leaving soon?”
“Yeah,” Rowan said. “The world didn’t end and there are bills to pay. What about you? Are you expected back at the University?”
“My role as a research professor gives me a lot of flexibility,” he said. “I’ll probably be back to my office by Tuesday or Wednesday.”
“So what else are you working on?”
“I’m preparing a few papers for peer review. Thinking of writing a book.”
“A book huh?” Rowan tried to stretch out his sore neck. “I’ve been thinking about writing a book too.”
“Do it, my friend. There will come a time, when it becomes more painful not to write. That is when you will become a writer.”
“I write all the time, but mostly articles and scripts. Maybe someday, I’ll have time for a book.” Rowan drained the margarita. “We’ll start analyzing our evidence from last night and reviewing all the research when we get back. I want to make sure I have your number before we leave. If I find anything interesting, I’ll call you.”
“I would welcome that, my friend. And I will send you a copy of my book, when I get it published, of course.”
“Autographed, right?” Rowan quipped.
“Of course,” Enrique said.
“I need sleep.” Rowan moved slowly, struggling to get out of the hot tub. His stiff muscles were no help. “Good night.”
“Of course.” Enrique nodded. “Buenos Noches.”
* * *
Enrique found Rowan outside the ER, where he’d left him. “Feeling any better?”
“Not really,” he groaned. “Still waiting for the meds to kick in.” He picked up the pill bottle and rattled it, showing Enrique the label, before tucking it in the breast-pocket of his jacket.
“Well, we better tend to business. In thirty minutes, you will be flat on your back,” Enrique caught him under his armpit and helped him stand. He was in worse shape than he had been the night before. “She’s in room 201.”
Rowan was impressed with how modern the hospital was. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but he was surprised at how nice it was. The doctor that had tended to him in the ER spoke English better than most people and had determined he had a concussion and a severe case of whiplash. It wasn’t serious, but it would take a few days on muscle relaxers before he’d be himself. Hopefully, he would be home soon. A few nights in his own bed, with Lauren tucked safely against him would do him good. That was the balm he needed right now. Unfortunately, there was still work to do. He needed to learn the identity of the woman who had t-boned him into a rock.
As he entered the room, with Enrique behind him, Rowan hesitated. She was laying with the head of the bed slightly elevated. Someone had taken care to clean her up and she wore a white hospital gown. Her red hair lay limp on her shoulder, and her eyes were closed. Rowan tapped on the door frame, and she startled, lifting her head off the pillow. He was immediately struck by how green her eyes were—like jade.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” Rowan said, but she looked at him blankly.
Enrique stepped through the doorway and introduced himself to her, speaking what sounded like Spanish. Her whole countenance changed. He continued speaking, clearly introducing his non-Spanish-speaking friend. Rowan presumed he was explaining how they’d come to find her.
“Are you Stephanie Wentworth?” Rowan finally asked when Enrique finished his prolonged introduction.
She turned and looked at him sharply.
It took a moment before she spoke. Rowan didn’t recognize the language. “Is she speaking... Maya?” Enrique had given him a primer in the language, but he couldn’t be sure. It sounded like Maya.
“Yes,” Enrique grinned. “You were paying attention.”
“What’d she say?”
“She says she was lost in the jungle, for a long time. She thanks you for finding her and she’s sorry for your aching back and head.” Enrique smiled. He said something to her in her own language and she looked at him warily. He glanced back at Rowan. “My Maya may be rusty, I’m not sure I said that right.”
“What’d you ask her?”
“I asked her if she was the daughter of an oil man, and was she kidnapped,” Enrique said.
The woman said
something back to him, speaking in a frantic long string of glottal syllables chained together. She looked agitated by the question, and her eyes were as wide as they could be.
“Are you Stephanie Wentworth?” Rowan repeated.
“Má in woojel.” She looked straight at him.
Rowan looked to Enrique. “No,” Enrique said. “She isn’t.”
“What’s her name?”
“Áantení,” she answered.
“She’s not the woman you’re looking for,” Enrique said, turning to Rowan. Rowan looked at her, seeing something in her eyes he couldn’t explain. “She’s not the oil baron’s daughter, Rowan.”
Rowan felt defeated. He’d wanted to believe the story so badly. He nodded and smiled, politely. “I’m sorry we bothered you.” He’d felt like they were on the verge of an amazing discovery, but the reality of the moment was too much to bear. Enrique made their farewells behind him, as he turned and walked out.
Chapter 12
“How’s that? Better?” Bahati helped Lauren get settled into her own bed. Her fever had broken two days before, and they’d finally discharged her from the hospital.
“Yes, thank you.”
“What sounds good for dinner?”
“After a week of hospital food? I could...” she started.
“Most of which you didn’t eat, by the way.” Bahati cut her off, sitting down beside her.
“Fair enough,” Lauren conceded. “I could really go for a pizza.”
Bahati hadn’t been expecting that and said as much. “Really?”
“Really.” She stretched out and ran a hand over her belly. “Baby wants pizza. The menu for Isa Bella’s is on the fridge.”
“The usual?”
“Please?”
“Okay,” Bahati said.
Lauren adjusted the pillows so she could sit up in bed. She reached for the remote but laid it back down. She wasn’t in any mood to watch television. The past couple of days had been trying, to say the least. She’d spent a couple of days in and out of fevered dreams, some of which hovered just outside of her ability to recollect. Others were as vivid as the painting on the wall over her dresser. What she could remember made her all the more fretful about what she couldn’t. Tsul’Kalu usually made her feel better when he came to her, but something about his recent visits had her feeling unsettled.
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