“Afraid?” he asked.
“Of course not, you pig,” she retorted, stepping back, wiping the sweat and rain from her face with her forearm. “Your breath leaves something to be desired.”
He laughed and leaned forward. “Interesting since you used to practically drool when I kissed you, if I remember correctly. And pant, like a bitch in heat.”
“You’re foul. I never drooled, and I certainly never panted. Your kissing was elementary at best.”
Fear lurched into her throat as rage filled his expression. He spoke to the Maya in Spanish, telling them to wait below. They switched their headlamps back on before descending.
“You are to stay with one of the Maya or me. That way you have plenty of light and supervision.” Eric grabbed her by the forearm, squeezing hard to make his point, his tone venomous. “There won’t be a next time. You disrespect me in front of others, you suffer the consequences. Understood? You will watch your mouth and your tone. This is your last warning.”
“Ow! Eric, stop!” Tears sprang to her eyes. “You’re going to give me more bruises.” She pulled away. “Does hurting me make you feel like a big man? Because you aren’t. Catch my meaning?”
Eric’s hand shot up, ready to strike. A throat cleared behind Ari. Eric lowered his hand so fast it was as if she had imagined it.
A deeply accented voice said, “Doctor. We should go down.”
“Right.” Surprise registered on Eric’s face, and his eyes warned Ari once again. To the man behind her, he said, “You need your headlamp. Dr. Antony can walk between us. What is your name again? I forget.”
“Carlos, sir.”
“Oh, yes. I have trouble with names sometimes. We have so many Maya here assisting,” he said, turning on his headlamp.
Carlos’s voice sounded familiar. Was it possible? She didn’t dare turn around.
“Stay between us, Ariana. You don’t have a headlamp,” he said over his shoulder. “Carlos, watch that Dr. Antony doesn’t slip or fall. We need her expertise down here.” He led the way, disappearing down the steep steps into the black void.
“Sí,” Carlos said to the space vacated by Eric.
She turned to look at the man behind her. Her eyes grew huge, and a big smile wreathed her face. He smiled back but kept his mouth closed, his dark eyes pleading for her not to give him away. He nodded and extended his closed hand over hers, depositing something that felt cool and delicate. It couldn’t be. But it was. She held her necklace. Tears pricked her eyes and hope of being rescued soared. Her message had been found.
“Where the hell are you?” Eric yelled from below. “Hurry up.”
She yelled back, “I had something in my sandal, cutting into my toe. I’m putting it back on now. Be patient.” Heeding Eric’s earlier warning, she added in a softer tone, “Please.”
With shaking hands, she undid the clasp, bringing the necklace up to her neck and fastening it, pulling gently to make sure it was secure. Her hand closed around the hummingbird. She prayed for safe passage and slipped it underneath the generous shirt. Taking a steadying breath, she stepped off the uneven large step, fear bubbling in her belly about what might be in the dark farther on.
Carlos moved closer, his headlight illuminating a few steps ahead of them. “Slow and steady. This is dangerous.” He placed his hand on her shoulder and said, “We must be patient.”
“Thank you. My equilibrium is off.”
What little daylight came through the ceiling disappeared into blackness, lowering the temperature considerably. Ari rolled down the long sleeves of her shirt. The going was slow. The light from Carlos’s headlamp illuminated the walls, revealing various characters and mythical fearsome lords of the underworld. She paused when she realized that the stairs led to Xibalba, what the Maya called the underworld. Carlos was silent behind her. Typically, Xibalba was entered through a cave or quiet water. Obviously, this was neither, which meant Ari, Carlos, and Eric were inside a temple created to entomb a Mayan king. And there was the possibility of human remains. Now she was sure why she had been kidnapped. Eric needed knowledge of Xibalba and forensic expertise. This discovery was going to rock the annals of archaeology, anthropology, and Mayan culture.
On approach, she had only glimpsed a decimated ruin tucked into the large hill through the roaring rain; the temple had been swallowed up by centuries of earth and creeping jungle. During dinner last night and prior to their blowup, Eric boasted that the temple and extended site had been discovered through camera-equipped drones, to create a 3-D map of this area. Furthermore, data from satellites and the lidar technique were used to detect and measure changes in the terrain. She had remained quiet and pushed the food around her plate, floored by what he’d shared with her.
He had completed the survey of this site in mere hours, whereas several members of the teams working Kaq and Rax were assigned to continue surveying the areas throughout the excavation. Ari had shaken her head, dumbfounded. Who is underwriting this? A purist, she preferred to learn and discover by immersing herself in the environment, just like she preferred real sugar to substitutes. Nothing compared. But she also knew that lidar’s data points were far more accurate and cost-effective when compared to hours collecting measurements and profiles.
Eric and the two Maya waited on a landing. “Keep up with me and pay attention. The steps are uneven and much larger than you are used to. Some have chipped and crumbled. One slip could take you to the bottom.” He stepped down.
He sounds like he cares, when he really only cares about what I can tell him. “Eric, please. Wait. Can we, um, Carlos and I, hang here for a while? I would appreciate taking some time to study what covers these walls.”
Eric didn’t look as though he was convinced.
“This is why you sent your thugs to get me—because of my expertise in the Popol Vuh and Mayan mythology, correct? The paintings tell that this is the temple of the king. This architecture represents the nine levels of Xibalba.” Pointing to the wall, she added, “Look. See what the art portrays?”
Dismissive in tone, he came back to face her. “Not much of anything. Looks like disintegrated fragmented paintings.”
“Well, I see souls from the underworld. See? Here and”—her hands moved expressively—“here. See? The flesh is depicted as separating from the body.” He looked where her hands guided him. “And look at the eyes. They hang from their sockets.” She turned to the wall on her right, pointing again. “This person—the king, I believe—is falling backward. And these? These are the gaping centipede jaws of Xibalba. The king is falling into the underworld. This here”—she pointed to another part of the painting—“this is one of the massive underworld rivers. It is blood, filled with scorpions.” She snapped her fingers by her temple, trying to recall more about Xibalba. “The names escape me right now.”
She looked upward thoughtfully, carefully so that she didn’t fall. “I believe we are in the second tier. Have you seen a door or an opening where a door might have been?”
He paused, then said, “Don’t leave her side, Carlos. If she disappears, you will be held accountable.” His expression of annoyance changed to interest. “You’re Maya. Do you think what Dr. Antony says is true? Might this be a portal to the underworld?”
Ari noticed Carlos was frowning but not because of Eric’s threats. He appeared worried. His breath was shaky as he answered quietly, “Sí. This is a king’s tomb.” He pointed to where the stairs disappeared behind Eric. “And the stairs lead to Xibalba.” He shuddered. “We should not be here long. I will stay up here with the doctor.”
“Did you see a door or a door opening?” Eric looked around. “I don’t see one.”
“We’ll look.” She reached out her hand to Eric, feeling he was capitulating. “Can I use your notebook to make notes and drawings?”
“It’s your lucky day. I’m feeling generous, Ariana. I happen to have an extra.” He knelt down and pulled his pack from his shoulder. Withdrawing the notebook, he said, �
�And here is a pen. You have fifteen minutes.” He made a show of setting the timer on his watch.
“I need more time.”
“No. If I remember, you’re pretty good at the glyphs. I also want you to determine which king. I need you farther down. There are remains.”
She didn’t want to be down there with him. Something felt off, and it wasn’t Eric. Carlos was nervous. “I’m not that good. Not my specialty. I have a better chance if you give me more time. The paintings are in pretty bad shape—”
“Twenty minutes. That’s it. It’s unfortunate we couldn’t snag the epigrapher traveling with you. He’s got to be the best. We’ll find a way to bring him in later.” Eric reset his watch, his eyes ghostly as he ordered, “Don’t try my patience.”
She blanched. Eric had considered taking Matt. She set her watch. He turned and descended, disappearing quickly, his headlight beam ricocheting off the walls below and then vanishing completely as his steps became silent. Carlos squeezed her shoulder—reminding Ari that he had her back. She took another deep breath and opened the notebook, hope sparking.
“I don’t know much about the glyphs. Do you?”
“No, Doctor. Tata does and Dr. Matt, but…” He opened his hands and shrugged. “I do know these things. This temple connects to Xibalba. The Americano should not be here. He does not respect it. Bad things happen to those who don’t respect the past.”
His warning filled her with foreboding. “I wish Matt were here, of his own free will. Between us, we might be able to figure out what we are looking at, what this represents.” She knelt, placing the notebook on her thighs as a writing surface. “This temple is astounding, and it has been untouched for centuries. I feel it here.” She placed her palm over her heart. “Do you feel it, Carlos? We are moving toward the sacred.”
“Sí, Doctor. There is ancient energy here. Because you feel it and believe it, you will be protected. The same is true for me. Xibalba is alive.”
She set to work, doing the best she could to copy glyphs and paintings into the notebook. Every time Ari filled a page, she tore it out, folding it and putting it in the inside hidden pocket of her pants, thankful she drew fast. She drew something basic to give to Eric later. Ari glanced at her watch; she had only minutes left. “Can you follow me down one more tier? Your light is glancing off another painting. I think I have just enough time to capture—”
Screaming erupted below them. It sounded far away. A man keened, his cries carrying up the stairs and echoing off the walls. “Help me! Help me!”
Eric. Omigod. Ari shot to standing so abruptly she tottered. Carlos grabbed her forearm, keeping her from plunging down the steps.
The keening and calls for help continued.
“What do we do? Someone is hurt.” She began to shake.
Someone was running. One of the Maya who had accompanied Eric was suddenly in front of them, breathing heavily. He spoke to Carlos in Q’eqchi’, and Carlos translated to her. The Americano had slipped on crumbling rock, falling into a ravine-like place below the last level. From what the Maya could tell, both arms and legs were broken. He lay partially submerged in water. He appeared to be in a lot of pain.
Several more Maya joined them on the landing.
“He will quickly go into shock, Carlos. We need to keep him warm. He needs blankets, quickly. Shit. How do we bring him up?”
He directed the men to get blankets, potable water, and ropes, and to rally more help. They turned, taking the steps at a pace bordering on a run.
“They will be back as soon as possible,” he said. “It will be a long, tricky rescue. We may hurt him more as we bring him out, or it could finish him.”
“What do you mean finish him?”
He was silent, but the expression on his face relayed his thoughts.
Ari felt sick to her stomach. Despite how Eric had treated her, despite the asshole he was and the fact that he looted antiquity, she could not leave him below. “How far are the other men?”
“They are close. Let me help you out to safety, then I will go get them.”
“No, I want to stay. I know some basic first aid. I can help somehow. I’ll go down and talk to him, keep him awake, while you—”
“Not right now. You need to go out of the temple. You need to focus on your footing so that you don’t end up like him. Dr. Ari, Luca is with them. He needs you to be okay.” He shook his head, looked around at the crumbling walls, then up to the partially caved-in ceiling. “Perhaps…”
Luca was close. She smiled, blinking through her tears. Goose bumps covered her arms as cool air raced up from below. The back of her neck prickled as she asked, “Perhaps what?”
“Maybe the gods had enough of his pillaging and his black soul.”
Ari sat wringing her hands under the awning of her tent. She looked at her watch. An hour had passed since Carlos had escorted her out of the temple. He had described what he had seen—Eric lying in the shallow, murky water, his arm and legs bent at inconceivable angles, labored breathing, his skin gray under his deep tan. He alternately moaned, pleading for one of them to end the pain, or closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, his face drenched in perspiration. Carlos had covered him with a blanket and said a silent prayer, then radioed for help from the command center.
Tired of sitting, she stepped out into the stifling afternoon and paced back and forth until the first fat raindrops caused her to retreat back under the awning. Loud rumbling signaled that the rain was about to grow worse. She moved closer to the tent flap in an effort to stay dry. A torrential downpour and spectacular light show erupted and then disappeared just as fast as it had started. The sun came out, but the air was like breathing water.
The unmistakable chopping sound of a helicopter grew louder. The percussion from the blades and the rotor reverberated in her body. Ari walked toward it to observe. Branches and leaves whipped as it hovered briefly over the open area by the kitchen, in preparation to land. It was larger and sleeker than the others she’d seen since being brought to Ajal, resembling the medevac helicopters back in the US.
The door opened after the blades slowed to a stop. Natasha jumped out. She wore a dark Kevlar vest emblazoned with white letters on its back. Ari had no trouble reading INTERPOL from where she was. She unzipped the screen and stepped inside and watched in disbelief, her heart ricocheting against her rib cage and sweating bullets in the stifling tent. What the hell? What in fuck was going on? What was Natasha doing here?
Natasha’s back was to Ari as she yelled to the Maya who had been with Eric in the temple. “Where is he?” She switched to Spanish, asking again. Nodding, Natasha spoke into a handheld radio, then motioned to the medics who had climbed out behind her, yelling, “We need the basket, blankets, and bags. Bring all the ropes. We’ll try to fashion some type of winch. He’s at the bottom of a temple. Stat!”
Natasha and the medics moved out at a jog behind the Maya, with their equipment, quickly disappearing over the rise in front of the temple. Ari stepped out of the tent and switched on the portable fan. She sat in one of the camp chairs, feeling it was the safest place for her.
Percussive whirring indicated another chopper was coming in. It slowed and hovered, landing farther away. Guatemalan militia, and men wearing bulletproof vests with INTERPOL on them, exited and fanned out over the Ajal site, which was now surprisingly sparse of humans. They worked together, herding Eric’s remaining associates to the clearing. Mindful of the guns, his associates followed directions, kneeling and bringing their hands behind them to be cuffed.
Activity broke out on the other side of camp. What now? It seemed there were more visitors. She rose, her heart skittering. There was no mistaking it. Luca stood with a small group of Mayan men. He hadn’t spotted her.
Oh yes, he had. An enormous smile lit his handsome face. He said something to the men—some of whom Ari recognized from the Kanul project—and strode rapidly toward her. She ran as fast as her wobbly legs could carry her, launching into Luca, c
rying uncontrollably.
His strong arms circled her, pulling her closer and back into the shelter of the jungle shade, one hand stroking her back as he kissed the top of her head, murmuring, “Thank God you are okay.” He gently moved her away from him but continued to hold on to her. Pushing his sunglasses up to rest on top of his hat, his voice dropped as he asked, “You are okay?”
She nodded, noticing how tired he looked. Dark shadows were evident under his beautiful green eyes. “For the most part. I’m tired. Sometimes I’m light-headed or have a headache, but maybe I’m dehydrated.”
“And what about these?” His thumb gently brushed the thick scabs on her forearms. “And this?” His eyes took on an angry glint as his fingertips grazed the fading purple of her cheek. “I heard about this.”
Her eyes opened wide with disbelief. “How?”
“We have been taking turns watching, planning on when to strike. I understand you also hit your head. Show me where.”
Ari’s hand drifted to the area above her temple. She grimaced as Luca gently pulled the dressing off and examined her wound, palpating it gently. It still hurt.
“This dressing is fresh, as is the glue. Was it infected?” He pressed the dressing back onto her skin.
“Yes. The medic debrided and cleaned it of infection and gave me an antibiotic. He also gave me something for my headaches. How—” She shook her head, tears spilling down her face. “How did you know about my head?”
Luca turned to the older Maya standing behind the others, a man Ari did not know. Gesturing and smiling warmly, he explained, “Tata, this is Dr. Ariana Antony, Ari, the woman we have been tracking. Ari, Tata is Carlos’s grandfather and a shaman. He has been instrumental in our effort to find you. He determined you sustained a head wound very close to the area where you were kidnapped. That is how I knew.”
Ari stepped forward and extended her arms. “May I?” she pleaded.
Afraid to Fall (Ancient Passages Book 1) Page 25