Dr. Cooper spotted a narrow, new trail leading into the jungle. “Is that the trail to the Corys’ camp?”
“It is. I can have Tomás take you there now if you like.” With that, Dr. Basehart introduced Dr. Cooper, Jay, and Lila, to his assistant. Tomás Lopez shook their hands, grinning a toothy grin, happy to be of service. “He’ll take you to see the Corys’ camp and answer any questions you have.”
Tomás’s smile vanished, and he looked wide-eyed at his boss. “Señor Basehart . . . is that such a good idea?”
Basehart became quite impatient. “Tomás, I will not have this discussion again with you! There is nothing to be afraid of!”
Tomás was clearly upset, but he led the Coopers down the trail into the jungle.
The Coopers were cautious but not afraid. With firm resolve, they stepped into the clearing, moving carefully, observing every detail. Tomás followed behind, sticking close, eyes wary, his rifle and machete ready.
The camp was a disaster area with camp chairs knocked over, the tent half collapsed, the camp stove overturned on the ground, food and supplies torn, scattered, and spilled everywhere.
Jay found a small, thin reed stuck in a tree trunk near the tent. “Dad.”
Jacob Cooper went over and examined it without touching it. “Poison dart.”
Tomás nodded warily. “The Kachakas. They use poison darts and blowguns. The poison kills in seconds.”
Lila noticed the overturned vase and scattered orchids. “I bet these orchids were beautiful before they wilted.”
Tomás smiled crookedly. “Americans. They would pay lots of money for such flowers in their own country. Here, we see them everywhere.”
“All the tools are still in place,” Dr. Cooper observed, checking the collection of shovels, picks, brush hooks, and metal detectors near a tree. He found a large wooden chest, eased the lid open, and whistled his amazement at the contents.
Jay came to look. “What is it?”
“Explosives,” said his father. “That always was Ben Cory’s style: Just blast away and get the treasure out, never mind the historical value of the site.” He closed the lid gently, with great respect for what the chest held. “Let’s have a look in that tent.”
The tent had half-fallen. Dr. Cooper found a long stick near the firepit and stuck it into the tent to prop up the roof.
“We’ll have to gather up all these notes,” he said, indicating the papers scattered on the floor. “We need to know everything the Corys knew.”
“Careful!” Jay cautioned, pointing to another poison dart that poked through the tent.
Lila picked up one of the sheets of note paper. It was heavy, sticky, and stained red. “Euuughh.”
“I told you there would be blood,” said Tomás from outside where he nervously stood guard. “The Corys were slaughtered in this tent.”
There was blood, all right, spattered on the floor of the tent, on the clothes, work boots, and gear. The Corys had died violently.
Jacob Cooper kept his tone calm and even. “Lila, I think we need one more set of eyes and ears outside. We don’t need any surprises.”
Lila welcomed the idea. Her face pale, she quickly ducked outside.
Dr. Cooper drew a deep breath and spoke to Jay. “Let’s do it.”
He and Jay began gathering up the notes, drawings, charts, and maps from the tent floor, separating them from the shirts, socks, bottles, and boxes lying everywhere.
Jay spotted a small notebook partially hidden under some wadded up rags. He reached for it then jerked his hand away, his heart racing. “Dad!”
Dr. Cooper’s hand went to his gun. “What is it?”
Lila poked her head in. “What is it?”
Jay backed away from the pile. “There’s something under those rags.”
The rags were wiggling and heaving.
Lila stifled a cry of fear, pressing her hand over her mouth as Tomás stuck his head into the tent. “Qué pasa?”
“I think we’ve got a snake in here,” said Dr. Cooper. “Stand back.” He found a piece of broken tent rod and extended it toward the rags, prodding them slightly. The motion stopped. He slowly lifted the rags.
They saw a fluttering, a flash of dull yellow and heard a tiny, shrill scream!
Lila screamed as well, and Jay and Dr. Cooper ducked. A strange, fluttering, flapping shape shot from the rags and began banging and slapping against the walls of the tent like a trapped bird.
Tomás hollered, “Get back! Get back!” and plunged into the tent, swinging his machete. The thing continued to fly, land, leap, bump against the tent, and flutter over their heads. Lila jumped away from the tent; Jay and his father dropped to the floor. Tomás kept swinging.
The Legend of Annie Murphy Page 12