At the outset, Gus had picked up the tracks of three people, one female and two males where the sapodilla tree stood, only meters away from where Natasha had seen Ari and the woman vanish. He believed the men had been waiting just past the ceiba tree for the woman to lure Ari. Gus had also discovered blood on one of the gambas—the prominent buttress roots of the sapodilla.
Tata had stepped forward and knelt. He dipped his fingers into the coagulated blood and lifted them to his lips. In Q’eqchi’, their Mayan tongue, he told Carlos the blood was from a head wound from a woman and it tasted of fear. Carlos translated his grandfather’s discovery to Luca, who went pale.
Luca rubbed at his scruffy face and then forced himself to say, “Ask him. Please. Is it a bad wound?”
Carlos turned to Tata and asked in his tongue of origin. His grandfather shook his head and spoke in Q’eqchi’.
Carlos translated. “No, but she will have a big head pain.”
Signs that three, sometimes four people were moving through the jungle became easier for Gus to find. Yesterday the men’s footprints had changed every thousand meters or so, indicating they had taken turns carrying something heavy, possibly a person. Possibly Ari. Gus had not seen any more blood—another good sign. The group was headed northeast. The route and their pace indicated that whoever had her knew this area well.
Like yesterday, Luca was thoroughly soaked within minutes of hiking. Gus assured him that they were on the right path and that they were closing in on the group they tracked. Late in the afternoon, Gus called, “Up ahead. Do you smell it?”
“Sí, sí,” the men answered excitedly.
Luca turned to Carlos. “What?”
“Inhale, amigo. It is light but hangs around, a stranger to this forest.”
He caught the scent. “Woodsmoke. A campfire.”
“Yes! This is good. It rained last night, and still we smell it. They are not so far.”
Gus led, motioning to the men to pick up their pace. Soon they were in a small clearing, with a creek to the east and the jungle canopy to the west. He walked to a pile of ashes and poked carefully with a stick. “Someone ate fruit with a peel.” He pointed his stick at the fragile form of ash.
“Ari has a habit of keeping food in her backpack, often an orange or avocado,” Luca said.
“This is good information.” Carlos pulled up a peel, some of which wasn’t charred, and held it to his nose. “Orange peel.”
“They slept here,” Gus said. He walked over to a small tree and knelt down. “A lean-to here. One person.” Then he walked to the other side of the clearing, kneeling and inspecting the ground lightly with his hands. “A tent here. Two people. Active.”
What the hell? Where did the other person sleep? Fear churned in Luca’s stomach as he absorbed the guide’s words.
Gus moved back to where the fire had burned, walking slowly around the ashes, then moving out farther and circling again. He scrunched down, palms brushing the earth. “A smaller person slept here, by the fire.”
Ari. Irritated by their slow pace, Luca gritted his teeth and kicked at the ground.
Noticing Luca heading out of the clearing, Gus asked, “Where are you going?”
“After her.”
Gus pulled himself up to his full brawny five feet and bellowed, “No.”
Luca halted, throwing up his arms. “What do you mean, no?” He was incredulous.
Carlos put his hand on Luca’s arm. “Amigo, my cousin is correct.” Luca pulled away, but Carlos grabbed him more firmly and said, “We need a plan. We know they have machetes and knives, but not whether they have other weapons. They are adept at moving through the jungle. It appears they planned to take her, but we do not know why. We have no idea who we are dealing with.”
“I am sorry,” Luca said, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You are, of course, correct.”
“You are a very smart man, but you must think with your head. Not your heart.”
“I am; however, I am worried. She is my colleague, my responsibility.”
Carlos nodded, looking deeply at Luca. “Tonight we will camp next to where they camped, and make plans. We will examine their campsite more thoroughly in the daylight. You asked me—us—to help you. Allow us to do so, amigo. I care about Dr. Ari. She is a nice lady. Why don’t you gather some wood? Gus will help you. I will make the lean-tos and organize cooking.”
“Thanks, Carlos,” Luca said.
“Be sure to take a light. And your knife and machete. The light fades. It will become dark quickly.”
Luca and Gus went in search of firewood. Luca put his headlamp on over his hat and turned it on. It was as dark as night where the fading sunlight could not penetrate. He turned back toward the clearing, his arms full of kindling. His headlight caught a flash of a small object in the distance. That was odd. He moved his head slowly in an attempt to locate it again. There it was, where the ceiba grew at the north edge of the clearing. He moved toward the immense tree.
“Where do you go?” Gus asked.
“Here,” Luca said, dumping the kindling into Gus’s already-full arms. “I will be right back.”
Luca jogged in the direction of the tree. What was it? Nothing natural. About three meters away, he lost sight of the object again. He stopped, his breathing heavy in the oppressive humidity. The wind cooled his damp skin, causing him to shiver. He moved his head slowly, bathing the dark green leaves in the headlight beam, scanning each leaf carefully. A small object reflected back at him. He walked forward steadily, keeping his eyes glued to the object, then reached and closed his hand over it, gently lifting it from the bark where it had been tucked into a fissure. The hair on his neck rose, and his heart stuttered in his chest as he opened his hand. Ari’s delicate hummingbird necklace reflected back at him.
The first calendar was used to make predictions and calculate festival days. It was called tzolkin. The second calendar was agricultural, dictated by how long it took Earth to travel around the sun. Both calendars were only known and understood by the priests, who were great students of Heaven and its bodies.
They charted and recorded the courses of stars, planets, predicted eclipses, and observed the solstices and equinoxes.
The calendars were combined into what is known as the calendar wheel. It repeats every fifty-two years. To adjust for differences in time and space, our ancestral priests grouped years in multiples of twenty, allowing them to perform very large calculations accurately thousands of years into the past and the future.
The codices chronicle the Mayan accuracy of time and astronomy. The basic units of Mayan measurement are: kin (day), uinal (20-day month), tun (a year of 18 uinales, 360 days), katun (20 tunes, 7,200 days), and baktun (20 katunes, 144,000 days).
—Tata
Mayan Shaman
Petén, Guatemala
She had sat in silence, watching as Inés, Beto, and Harry worked efficiently to break down the camp after eating.
Inés snapped her fingers. “Up you go, Doctor. We have a half-day’s hike. You can carry your backpack again.”
She waved Ari’s knife and compass in front of her face. “I’ll hold on to these.”
“Those are mine,” Ari spat out.
“On second thought, I’ll keep them as your personal thank-you for escorting you safely through to your destination.” Inés looked at Beto and Harry. “Move it.”
Ari and her captors had been walking for over four hours, pausing twice to rest and relieve themselves. Her breathing was heavy, and she plopped onto the ground once, when she glanced up at movement in the treetops; her equilibrium was off. She righted herself under Inés’s pinched expression.
The jungle-camouflaged river burbled and splashed to their right as the group pushed north. Colorful birds chased each other and flew around the small group, as if to accompany them to their destination. Once, Ari thought she heard the telltale thrumming of a hummingbird, but she hadn’t spotted one. With that thought, her tied hands m
igrated to her throat. Empty. None of them had noticed that she tucked her necklace into the bark of the ceiba tree after they’d set forth from the makeshift camp days back. She prayed it remained caught in the bark. It was a long shot, but with any luck, Luca might see it. If he was looking for her. Please, Luca, find me.
It was difficult to see under the dense canopy, and the ground was sometimes treacherous and slick in places where the sun was unable to shine. After falling, she kept her eyes on the uneven ground, looking for roots and vines.
“Pay more attention. We don’t need you hurting further.” Inés turned and resumed walking behind Beto. Ari followed, and Harry brought up the rear. Suddenly they were walking a well-trodden and swiftly widening path.
Ari slowed. “Do you hear that? Talking? Metal clanging? There are people up ahead.” Could they help her, or would they be dangerous? The ground ahead of her was deeply rutted, like from a heavy truck. Rainwater partially filled the deepest ruts. Why are there tire tracks in the middle of the jungle? Uncertainty rooted her to the spot, preventing her from taking another step.
“Doctor,” Inés said, facing her. “Remember when we first met? When I told you there had been a change in plans?”
Ari blinked rapidly, speechless, her eyes unable to look away from Inés.
“I take your response as a yes,” Inés said coldly. “We are arriving at”—she used air quotes—“the change in plans.”
Ari’s breath whooshed out. Her mouth opened and closed over and over.
“Don’t worry, Doctor. And stop looking like a fish gasping for air. No one is going to hurt you or off you. Not yet anyway, that I know of.” Inés’s eyes gleamed maliciously. “Let’s not keep him waiting. He expected us before now, but you slowed us down.”
Harry asked quietly, “You going to explain that to the American, Nes?”
“The American?” Ari asked. “Who…”
Beto shook his head. “I imagine he’s super pissed. Probably needed the doc before now.”
“She would have been useless, puking and fainting. I’ll explain to him, and he’ll just have to understand. Let’s go.”
“You do that. He scares the hell out of me.” Beto’s voice dropped lower. “Those eyes…”
Inés placed her hand between Ari’s shoulders and pushed her forward. “Move.”
They climbed another steep hill and walked out into a clearing bathed in sunlight. The heat soared, the air rivaling a sauna.
“We’re here,” Harry said.
Inés laughed derisively. “Astute as always.”
Harry dropped his backpack stuff with his blanket and netting on the ground and stretched and groaned. “Goddamn. That feels better. My back can breathe. Too damned hot.” He grabbed his bottle and drained it, and turning to Inés, he said, “Maybe you can give me a nice rubdown later?”
She hit him hard on the arm. “Seriously? That’s what is on your mind at this moment? Jesus.”
Ari began to sweat profusely from the sudden exposure and increase in temperature. She lowered her pack to the ground and was rewarded with immediate respite from a gentle breeze caressing her soaked back. Her eyes blinked rapidly to adjust to the change in light. Blindly, she bent over and reached for her bottle in the side pocket. Standing and drinking slowly, she lifted her sunglasses hanging from the cord around her neck and slipped them on. Omigod.
What Ari viewed staggered the imagination. The ground in front of her had been cleared of all organic matter, exposing part of a massive site—the biggest active site she’d ever seen. Numerous excavations were happening at once, versus the two at Kanul.
She appraised the closest excavation with an experienced eye. Cord lines were strung out to mark the site, forming five-by-five-metered squares. Excavation units. Multiple transits were spaced around the site, accurately measuring the horizontal and vertical angles and distances. Precisely aligned one-meter-wide balks bordered adjoining trenches to aid stratigraphic analysis. More cord lines climbed upward on the clearing’s perimeter, disappearing into the deep, densely forested shade. They were way ahead of the work at Kanul.
Excavation tools and supplies littered the balks and the edges of the site. Dozens of volunteers and students, joined by local Maya, worked arduously in the white sunlit day, many under shade provided by pole-mounted tarpaulins over the trenches. The sharp pinging of picks and thudding sounds of trowels digging in the earth was familiar, reminiscent of her time spent digging as a graduate student volunteer in Morocco and as a doctoral supervisor in Italy.
Analyzed dirt was removed by buckets and poured into the waiting wheelbarrows spaced at intervals throughout the site. The dirt, which no longer held any archaeological significance, would be used as back dirt to refill test pits and depleted excavated units.
Multiple immense canvas awnings provided shelter for the large paper-laden tables. From her past work as a field director, she knew the papers were survey maps and diagrams indicating the topography of the surveyed site and where to trench. Additional transits lay heaped under the tables.
Whoever was responsible for overseeing this project was seasoned and meticulous. She counted a dozen tables dedicated to processing artifacts. Small groups of people quietly focused on their tasks of cleaning, sorting, and inventorying. After the artifacts were assigned an object type, year, and running number, she expected that they were placed in open bins with secure lids behind the tables. She watched a man fill out an inventory card about the artifact in front of him. From where Ari stood, it looked like a shard of some type. The man placed the card in a shoebox-shaped container behind him. It was stacked on top of other similar boxes. The methodology appeared efficient.
Two storage buildings, built from durable fiberglass-reinforced plastic, were stationed just past the tables. They resembled trailer-sized Porta Potties but with windows and reinforced screened doors. A larger building, likely a field laboratory, had been built from wood, the roof corrugated metal. Through the door and multiple windows, she glimpsed people inside working.
Loud, steady buzzing drew Ari’s attention overhead. Two drones. One hovered, panning the dig. The domed lens underneath protected the camera taking aerial photographs. The other drone flew north, soaring higher and higher, disappearing above the trees. Based on the size of the excavation, she suspected the second drone was being used to search for any other patterns and changes in the soil and vegetation that were impossible to see on foot. But for what exactly?
Inés broke into her reverie. “Let’s walk, Doc. You can check out your new digs.” She laughed derisively. “Digs. Get it?” She forcefully poked Ari in the back. “Move.”
The excavation was exceptionally well funded. More rainforest had been cleared to the west of the dig. A large RV camper skirted the perimeter of the beige tent village and was hooked up to a generator. Additional generators could be seen behind the RV. To have air-conditioning in this heat and humidity. How fortunate.
Three military-style Jeeps and a small, unmarked white van were parked down a sloped hill to the right. One hundred meters past the vehicles, four mammoth tents with front-zip screens had been combined to create an enormous kitchen. A water-filtration system was stationed just outside the kitchen flaps.
“Pretty nice, huh, Doc?” asked Inés. “Of course, you won’t be spending any time in here since you can’t cook.”
Folding tables had been placed end to end in a U shape, close to but not touching the walls. Most were neatly piled high with food and kitchen items. Jumbo coolers bookended the tables. Additional coolers and plastic bins were stored under the tables.
“It’s very nice, unexpected,” Ari said coolly.
An outdoor kitchen was set up another fifty meters away. Multiple grills were arranged in a crescent shape. Buckets for collecting grease and waste were placed between the grills. Another water-filtration system had been placed here as well. Dozens of picnic tables sat within several immense white tents with roll-down screen walls, providing archaeologi
sts and volunteers with shelter from sun, rain, and insects. This setup was far more extensive than any expedition she had participated in. What organization is underwriting this? Most archaeology exploration and excavation, like Kanul, operated on bare-bones budgets.
Where the hell were they? Mentally she flipped through a file folder of archaeological sites in this area. Images flew through her mind. This site was not one of them.
She played devil’s advocate. Maybe she wasn’t where she originally thought. There were roughly three thousand archaeological sites in Petén. Maybe her spot-on internal navigation system had failed because of her concussion as well as the stress she had been under the past days.
She closed her eyes and opened them again. Forgetting about her vertigo issues, Ari stumbled backward and caught herself just in time as she looked skyward. The sun was where it should be at this hour. The river’s tributary was to the east of where she stood. “Where are we exactly? I don’t recall this site, Inés, and I’ve studied all of them extensively. My postgraduate specialty is Mayan archaeology and culture. All periods and—”
A man appeared out of nowhere, the glaring sunlight keeping her from seeing him clearly. “It’s rather difficult to consider yourself a true Mayan expert if you have only studied. Places and people have more profound impacts when you experience them firsthand. They come alive. Don’t you agree?” He stepped closer.
What the hell? No, it couldn’t be. Ari lowered her head, shaking it to clear any remaining cobwebs that still might be affecting her from the concussion.
“I’m pleased you have arrived. Granted, it was later than I expected. Welcome to Ajal.”
Afraid to Fall (Ancient Passages Book 1) Page 21