The Mayan Prophecy

by Alex Scarrow

  At some point tectonic pressure must have caused this plateau of rock to fracture and rise up out of the jungle.

  ‘The ridge runs along for quite some distance either side of where we are, but there’s a narrow pathway somewhere nearby that zigzags up the front of it. It’s partly natural and partly cut out of the sandstone.’

  ‘You know where this path starts?’ asked Maddy.

  Adam looked either way along the base of the cliff. Where the rock descended into the jungle floor it sank into a thick tangle of undergrowth. The lowest fifty or sixty feet of the rock-face were coated by a thick tapestry of moss, in places hidden behind dangling curtains of vines and clinging ivy. Adam looked up the cliff-face. Not strictly vertical – as it rose the wall angled back on itself. If not strictly vertical, it was still extremely steep.

  He studied the rust-coloured rock as it rose away from the jungle floor. Fifty feet up, the clumps of moss and the drooping curtains of vine and ivy began to give way to bare patches, which, in turn, expanded and joined each other further up, until near the top the greenery was nothing but a dot here and there amid an expanse of rusty-red sandstone.

  Right at the very top of the cliff, two hundred feet above them, the jungle resumed, foliage spilled over the top like a fringe of hair.

  ‘OK, so I can’t remember precisely where the path is,’ Adam replied, ‘but it’s not far from where we are now. I’m sure. We took pretty much the same route up from the camp that I took two years ago, and I just sort of stumbled on that pathway without looking for it. So it should still be quite obvious when we come across it.’

  Liam was looking up at the distant overhanging jungle. ‘So it’s not a pointy ridge at the very top? It’s flat?’

  ‘It’s a plateau.’ Adam craned his neck. ‘I have no idea how big the plateau is, though. I’d love to have flown over the top and got some shots from above.’

  ‘So, Adam,’ said Maddy impatiently, ‘we should start looking for your path.’

  ‘Yes, yes – of course. Maybe we need to split into two groups? One goes left, one goes right. The pathway won’t be far from here, I promise you.’

  They did as he suggested and five minutes later it was Sal who spotted the narrow thread of the trail up the cliff-face. She traced its route down towards the jungle floor and a short while later they were gathered at its start, Billy and Adam hacking away at the vegetation, clearing a couple of years’ worth of growth out of the way. Presently they found themselves staring at a roughly hewn set of steps that appeared to have been carved out of the stone many centuries ago.

  Maddy inspected the weather-worn edges of the steep steps. ‘Your Indians actually cut this pathway?’

  ‘Yes. I suspect the cave at the top was probably used as some sort of burial chamber, kept a respectful distance from their settlement down by the river. They would have brought their dead up here, ascended this wall and placed their loved ones up in the cave so they could look out on them, watch over them.’

  ‘Like Chachapoya, in Peru,’ said Billy.

  Adam nodded. ‘Yes, that’s right; they do exactly the same thing with their dead.’

  Liam stepped forward and climbed the first few rounded steps. ‘So are we all going up then, or are we just going to admire the craftsmanship?’

  ‘That’s the plan,’ replied Maddy.

  Rashim squinted up at the sheer slanting cliff-face. ‘Is it safe? I mean, we have no safety equipment, no harnesses or safety lines, no helmets.’

  Maddy sighed. ‘Think of it as walking up a very steep hill, you know? As opposed to climbing a mountain. Look at it! We don’t need all that climbing stuff. Just be a bit careful, that’s all.’

  ‘But a fall would be fatal.’

  She shrugged at that. ‘So, don’t fall.’

  Liam began to ascend the steps, finding handholds on his right: the thick cords of vines, ancient cracks and rain-worn dimples in the rock in which fingers could be curled to get a hold. ‘It’s not so hard. Just keep looking for something to hold on to.’

  Rashim nodded queasily.

  Liam looked back down at them. ‘Are we going up then?’

  One by one the others followed in his wake. Billy, Adam, Maddy, then Bob with all their backpacks slung in a tangled jumble over one large shoulder.

  Sal was behind him, the last but one. She took the first half a dozen steps up the rock-face then turned to look back down at Rashim. ‘Are you coming or not, Rashim?’

  ‘It does not look very safe.’

  She shook her head and pulled a face. ‘You spent twenty years in the seventeenth century fighting pirate battles with cannons and swords and muskets, and you’re telling me a steep slope looks too dangerous for you?’

  ‘Heights. I am not very good with heights, Sal.’

  ‘Oh, jahulla.’ She shook her head and resumed climbing.

  Rashim watched her ascending the rock-face, catching up with Bob’s bulky frame. Further up, and looking very small and far away already, the others.

  Long shadows were stretching across the craggy rock as the sun politely began to make its excuses to the day and head for the horizon. It would be setting in a couple of hours.

  Rashim looked around at the undergrowth crowding in on him. In just two hours, it would be dark.

  ‘All right,’ he muttered to himself. He stepped forward, placed a foot on the first carved step and pulled himself up. ‘This is not very safe, though.’

  It took Liam no more than an hour to reach the halfway point of the ‘climb’; it was more a stiff uphill walk than proper rock climbing. In places the pathway became quite wide, particularly where it doubled back on itself and zagged up the cliff in the other direction.

  Now he was at one of those points where the pathway zigged and also zagged. He stopped to sip some water and catch his breath. His thigh muscles were burning from the steady ascent. But apart from needing the rest and the water, it was a perfect place to stop, if for no other reason than to take a couple of minutes and savour the spectacular view.

  He was no more than a hundred feet up from the jungle floor, above the green canopy of the rainforest, and yet it felt like he was halfway towards the sky.

  Below the canopy, it had felt like swimming along the bottom of an overgrown aquarium. But where he stood now the rainforest looked like an emerald sea of gently stirring broccoli heads: a receding vista of peaks and troughs that undulated like folds of a green blanket, like the gentle swells of deep ocean, frozen forever in a snapshot image. He studied these diminishing peaks and troughs as they stepped sedately down towards the distant glinting thread of the Green River.

  With the afternoon fast approaching evening, the sun burned less intensely now. It rested warmly on his sweat-damp face, casting low-angled beams of light across the jungle, and alternate rays of shadow fanned out from the tops of some of the gentle peaks. In the shadowed troughs, thin wisps of mist were beginning to form, hiding from the sunlight like errant pale children.

  He wondered if this was the most beautiful sight he’d ever witnessed.

  Billy caught him up and together they silently sipped water and looked out at the view. The only sounds up here were the gentle rustle of wind, their own laboured breathing, the soft swill of water sloshing in the flask.

  Liam smiled. If I die tomorrow … I reckon I’ve seen more than anyone can fairly ask to see in a lifetime.

  The others finally caught up with them, Maddy cursing like a trooper under her breath. Billy and Liam looked at each other and grinned. That couple of minutes of silence and sensation was a shared moment that words would only cheapen. Billy handed back the flask and Liam resumed ascending the narrow path.

  Three-quarters of the way up the cliff-face, the path began to narrow to the point where Liam felt the need to stick much closer to the jagged rock. His left shoulder in places was rubbed sore as he leaned, pressed anxiously into the wall. It was two and a half feet wide here, and beyond the crumbly edge, yes, maybe it wasn’t a ver
tical drop, but near as dammit.

  The pathway finally came to an abrupt end as it reached the small mouth to the cave that Liam had managed to catch glimpses of from further down. Above the cave’s entrance the sandstone face rose another twenty to thirty feet, topped with the jungle foliage spilling over the edge and dangling down.

  The entrance to the cave was small and roughly arched, eight feet at its widest and low enough at the apex that he had to duck his head down as he stepped inside.

  He squatted in the mouth of the cave, peering into the dimly lit interior. ‘Hellooo?’

  His voice reverberated around inside. ‘Any hungry wild animals in there?’

  Not that he was expecting an answer. A growl perhaps.

  A moment later Billy finally joined him, squatting beside him in the cave mouth. He grinned at Liam. ‘Is bit scary, eh? To go in?’

  ‘Just rather wary of being eaten by something.’

  Liam pulled out a torch from his backpack, switched it on and stepped further into the cave, Billy a step behind him, his assault rifle unslung from his shoulder and ready in his hands.

  The cave widened beyond the entrance. The two of them were able to stand up straight, side by side, as above them the roof of the cave arced upwards to a craggy slit from which roots and creepers – the furthest probing fingers of the jungle above – dangled like ossified tendons among the firm, inverted mounds of stalactites.

  The cave floor was covered with a bed of dirt, dry as dust, the crumbling remains of dried vegetation, brittle twigs and branches and a few hardy tufts of yellowing grass. The walls either side of them were the same rust-red rock, worn smooth near the entrance by the elements, but more defined, sharper-edged further in.

  Liam panned his torch along the cave walls either side. No cave paintings yet, no weird markings to be seen, but then the surface was far too uneven and craggy here for any cavemen to try using as a canvas.

  Perhaps further in? He aimed his torch at the back and saw that the cave widened further and went a lot deeper than he’d first thought from Adam’s description.

  ‘You know what?’ He glanced at Billy. ‘I think we might just wait around for the others before we go any further.’

  The guide seemed relieved at that suggestion. ‘Very good.’

  Chapter 35

  1994, a cave, Nicaragua

  Rashim was the last one to arrive. He ducked down as he stepped inside the cave, then slumped down, mentally and physically exhausted, against a stalagmite hump. His back was very deliberately turned towards the sweeping jungle vista far below, the shimmering evening sun settling on the distant horizon like a ball of molten wax. His silhouette cast a shadow across the uneven floor and deep into the cave.

  ‘At last,’ said Maddy with a sigh. ‘What the hell took you?’

  ‘That … last … bit …’ He was hyperventilating. ‘God help me, call that a path?’

  She shook her head dismissively and huffed. ‘What a baby.’

  ‘Here it is!’ Adam’s voice echoed from further inside. ‘Here’s the writing on the wall!’

  ‘Why don’t you stay here and catch your breath for a bit,’ she said, patting the top of Rashim’s head.

  ‘You are patronizing me.’

  ‘Yup.’ She tipped her chin towards the darkness. ‘I better go and see –’

  ‘You go.’ Rashim waved her away breathlessly. ‘Go! … I will be fine here.’

  She turned and made her way further into the gloom of the cave. The light from the setting sun, pink now, like candy floss, was fading and becoming redundant. As she carefully picked her way deeper into the cave, it quickly became dark, almost completely pitch black a dozen yards in. The only worthwhile light was the spill coming from the flickering torches up ahead.

  She bumped into Bob, her head clunking hard against his bony elbow.

  ‘Jesus!’ she grunted, rubbing her temple. ‘Why can’t you be soft and cuddly?’

  ‘Sorry, Maddy,’ he rumbled, and stepped to one side to let her pass.

  ‘You got my backpack with you still?’

  ‘Affirmative.’ She heard the rasp and rustle of Bob moving, then felt the rough canvas of her backpack bumping gently against her shoulder. ‘This is your bag, Maddy.’

  She grabbed it, fumbled blindly inside it until her fingers found her torch. She pulled it out and snapped it on.

  ‘Ahh, that’s better.’ She slapped a hand on one of his bulbous pectorals. Hard as granite. Her sore head notwithstanding there was something reassuring about knowing that mountain of flesh was always somewhere nearby. ‘Thanks, Bob.’

  ‘Maddy, you back there?’ Liam’s voice echoed. ‘That wall painting’s right here! Adam’s found it! Get over here!’

  ‘I’m coming! I’m coming!’

  She followed the flickering light of their torches and finally joined Adam, Liam and Sal as they lit up a yard-wide section of the cave wall.

  ‘This was the piece of writing I discovered and photographed,’ said Adam proudly. ‘Incredible sight, isn’t it?’

  Maddy panned her torch along the wall, up and down, left and right. A modest patch of faded marks, curious glyphs side by side in several neat rows, daubed on the wall with a paint that might once have been a red or an orange hue but was now a faint sepia, almost lost against the rust colour of the sandstone wall.

  ‘And is that all the writing there is?’

  Adam shrugged. ‘When I came here I was alone, you see. To be honest, I didn’t really do an exhaustive search.’ He winced like a naughty boy recalling a misjudged prank. ‘I was kind of worried the rest of my group would be going ape about me being missing for several hours. I didn’t hang around for too long. No more than about ten minutes, then I had to head back.’

  ‘So there could be more of this stuff?’ said Maddy. ‘Much more.’

  ‘Maybe. Possibly. I had a look around quickly … didn’t see anything else, though.’

  ‘Then that’s what we should do first, I guess. Search this place thoroughly.’

  ‘We’ll need to get some more light in here.’ He looked back towards the cave entrance, now nothing more than a sleepy-eye shape of salmon-pink sky. ‘Even in the middle of the day it was pretty dim back here. We could do with some proper floodlights and stuff.’

  ‘Well, first things first.’ Maddy reached down into the hip pocket of her jeans and pulled out the tachyon transponder. She flicked the protective cover open and flipped the tiny on/off toggle switch inside.

  Bertie held his breath as he peeked through the gap in the curtains. He watched the young woman. She hadn’t moved for what he supposed must have been about half an hour. She was standing stock still in the middle of the room, a perfect statue, her head slightly cocked as if listening to some unheard whispering voice. She was so still and quiet he was worried she would hear his laboured breathing.

  Shuffling in aimless circles around her was the odd yellow box creature, shaped like a tobacco chest, with those curious, comical, childlike facial features. It reminded him of a dog rejoicing at the return of its master.

  The bizarre scene remained like that, the woman a curious statue and the dancing yellow box, both of them preventing him from leaving this place undetected.

  Then she finally stirred.

  ‘Yes, I am detecting it too,’ she said out of the blue. She shifted her position and looked down at the circling yellow box. ‘Please move to one side now. A portal will be opening shortly.’

  ‘Righto, missy!’ chirruped the box and waddled into a dark corner of the room.

  Bertie heard a click echo in the dark, then that metallic humming sound again. Quickly growing in intensity.

  ‘Affirmative, computer-Bob,’ called out the woman. ‘Ten seconds.’

  He could only guess he was about to witness the same spectacle again, that mysterious floating sphere. In anticipation of its arrival and the gust of air, he backed away from the fabric and ducked behind the hammock. Just as he did, the curtain billowed
inwards, flapping for a moment like laundry on a blustery day.

  Then it settled down again.

  ‘Hey! Becks! We’ve found it! That cave writing!’

  Another female voice. He recognized it as belonging to the assistant with the glasses and the American accent. What was her name? Maggy?

  ‘That is very good news, Maddy,’ said the other young woman.

  Maddy.

  Bertie, curious and confident the curtain wasn’t about to flutter inwards again, made his way forward and peeked through the gap once more. The floating sphere was still hovering there. Another figure emerged from it, to stand beside the girl with the glasses. The huge man-mountain. He knew his name.

  ‘Right, Bob, Becks … we need to grab some equipment!’ The girl named Maddy pointed towards the shelves on the back wall. ‘The halogen lamps, the 500-watt mini-generator, cables. Come on! Quick as you can!’

  Bertie watched the three of them picking through the boxes stacked on the shelves.

  ‘We are returning to the year 1994?’ said Becks.

  ‘Yup. And quickly.’

  ‘Would it not make sense to identify when the writing appeared on the cave wall and return to that period, Maddy?’

  ‘One thing at a time, Becks. I’m not sure yet how far back in time we can go with the current power configuration, anyway. Five hundred years? A thousand? Two thousand? First thing we can do is check that whole cave out. Who knows what else is in there?’ She looked at the others. They were already holding loops of cable and equipment, the function of which Bertie couldn’t even begin to fathom.

  ‘Oh, cool … you’ve got the stuff already? Right, go, go, go! Window’s open, no time to waste.’

  The giant and the young woman disappeared into the sphere.

  Maddy hurried across the floor towards the row of glowing windows. ‘Computer-Bob, keep watching out for our transponder. I’m going to turn it off for now. When I turn it back on, it means we want to come back home, OK?’