The Second Renaissance Series Boxset

by Paul Heron

  Michael woke up unaware of how long he’d been unconscious. He had a throbbing headache and could feel his wrists bound to the arms of the wooden chair he was sitting on.

  As he opened his eyes, everything was a blur. The smell of damp wood assaulted his senses. A hissing sound coming from behind him told him he wasn’t alone in the room.

  The hissing came again. So, this is what the room looks like in daylight, he thought, realising he was in the room where they found L’amico and the book. He tried to rock back and forth but he couldn’t move.

  ‘It’s probably better to keep quiet,’ came the voice of a young man in broken English. ‘Michael, yes?’

  ‘How’d you know my name? Who are you?’ Michael wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating or not. He was sure the dream was only that.

  ‘I heard one of them talking when you arrived. They referred to you as their lucky Irish charm.’

  ‘And where are they now?’

  He tried to wriggle. To loosen the rope that bound him to the chair. He could feel that it wasn’t very sturdy from the movement of the chair’s frame.

  ‘I do not know where we are. I woke up here also. I am Abbe.’

  ‘At least we’re still alive,’ Michael said, still battling with the rope. ‘We’re in a detention camp in Chiapas, with a group of men whom we’d rather not be involved with.’ He threw himself backwards, sending the chair crashing into the hard, wooden floor. ‘Well done, Michael. Let the whole building know you’re awake. Dumbass!’

  ‘Do you know why you’re here?’

  ‘I’m here because these guys kidnapped a Mexican friend of mine.’

  ‘Eduardo?’ Abbe’s tone lifted, as if he had a glimmer of hope.

  ‘Yes, you know him?’

  After snapping the arms of the weakened chair, Michael looped his hands through his legs, bringing them in front of him.

  ‘Yes, Eduardo is a funny guy,’ Abbe said, laughing. ‘He always spoke of his new Irish friend who he had hoped would come. He talked about some strange lady with a black horse. Did you bring his England scarf?’

  Michael couldn’t help but laugh out loud. ‘No, we didn’t bring his scarf. You weren’t here when we came for him.’

  ‘I was in another room. I heard you all talking.’ He paused for a second then laughed. ‘I heard a man called Mohammad asking to take the rattlesnakes with him. Eduardo also told me of Mohammad “the funny guy” and how he also hoped Mohammad and the rest would come for him.’

  Michael laughed. ‘I’m sorry, Abbe. If Eduardo had told us you were here, we would have taken you with us.’

  ‘No, Eduardo thought they let me go already. They told him that they were letting me go free to make him jealous, so he would tell them about some device.’

  Michael looked around the room.

  Abbe was a boy who looked about fifteen.

  He wore a white tunic and brown leather sandals; he looked like his stay at the base didn’t include showers. His greasy black hair glued to his face.

  ‘You’re a member of one of the local Mayan tribes, aren’t you?’ Michael began to speak in Abbe’s language.

  ‘How did you know, Michael?’ Abbe replied, stunned at hearing Michael - an outsider - speaking his native tongue.

  ‘Your people are looking for you. They helped us get here.’

  ‘Yes, I’m part of the Zoque tribe of North Chiapas.’

  ‘That’s the part that wants to maintain its traditions? You’re not part of any tourist scheme in the jungle?’

  ‘No. People wanted to use our village to make money, but our people did not want it.’

  Michael approached the walls. ‘This is built from bamboo?’ He lightly caressed the wood with his fingertips.

  ‘Yes, and it’s very strong. We won’t get out.’

  ‘I agree, it is a strong wood, but I think we can get out,’ Michael said.

  He spotted a bloodstained knife on the floor in the corner, beside Bella’s tank. He grabbed it and went for Abbe.

  ‘I’m sorry, whh... whhaaaa... are you doing?’ Abbe’s voice trembled.

  Michael cut Abbe’s hands free, and handed him the knife. ‘I need you to cut this rope off my hands.’

  They got the angle just right, and after a few saws, Michael’s hands were free. ‘Great, now we’re getting somewhere!’

  ‘Quiet!’ Abbe hissed, his eyes fixed on the door. A terrified expression, flashed across his face. ‘I hear footsteps.’

  ‘They must have heard the chair hit the ground. We’re not staying here.’ Michael grabbed Abbe. ‘Get behind the door. Quickly. Move.’

  ‘But, what are you going to do?’

  ‘Quiet, move!’ Michael hissed as he heard a key being inserted into the door’s lock.

  Abbe’s face was pale. His expression gaunt. ‘What are we doing?’

  As the door was pushed open, Michael recognised a voice from earlier. ‘He’ll speak when he drinks this,’ the man mumbled to himself in Spanish, sniggering as he entered the room.

  Michael pushed the door closed, and dropped him with one punch to the neck. ‘Give me that rope.’ He pointed at the chair he’d been bound to.

  He checked his pockets and found his phone. To his surprise, he didn’t have a screen lock on his smartphone. He saw a text conversation with someone called “el capo”. The message read: ‘It’s the Irish boy and his friends.’ The response from “el capo” read: ‘The cave you fear to enter the most, contains the greatest treasure! Alejandro.’

  Michael was stunned. This was the message attached to the photograph he had seen at the airport, just before he had the dream about Elisabetta and his older self. The red light at the top of the phone indicated there wasn’t much battery left. He dropped the Samsung into his trouser pockets.

  ‘Abbe, when we get out, do you know a safe place we can hide? I’ve got GPS on the phone, but the battery’s almost dead.’

  Abbe’s face lit up. ‘I’ll be forever grateful if I can come with you,’ he said.

  Michael tied the agent to Abbe’s chair.

  ‘Well, I’m not leaving you here.’ He scanned the room, constantly thinking, processing everything.

  Abbe pointed to a plastic bottle on the ground beside the man’s hand. ‘Do you know what that is?’ Abbe asked.

  ‘I’m guessing it’s the drug from the Dark Tree.’

  ‘You know the Dark Tree?’

  ‘Yes, do you?’ Michael looked at Abbe, full of wonder at what else the boy knew.

  ‘Yes, that’s why they took me, because I discovered it,’ Abbe said. ‘They wanted to use me for tests.’

  Michael’s face lit up. ‘Can you take me to it?’

  Just as Michael said this, Abbe flipped. He ran to the agent, and repeatedly kicked him. This woke him up, but he was unable to scream because of the tie around his mouth.

  ‘This is for all that torture. You’re evil. You and every one of you!’ Abbe yelled in Spanish.

  Michael lifted Abbe away, his legs kicking in mid-air. ‘Stop, Abbe.’ He set him down. ‘We haven’t got time to waste.’ He ran to the door.

  Abbe calmed down, still panting after his outburst. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, overcome with emotion. ‘My family will be grateful for your help.’

  ‘Well, your grandfather was there, in the jungle,’ Michael said as he peeked out into the hallway.

  ‘My grandfather?’

  ‘Yes. Antonio.’

  ‘He never leaves the village except for something very important.’

  ‘Like a grandson?’ Michael pulled his head back into the room, turned and smiled.

  ‘These people are dangerous, so our people cannot do anything against them,’ Abbe said. ‘They’re a group of guerrillas.’

  ‘I agree, they’re very dangerous, and I wish they were just a group of guerrillas, but unfortunately, they’re slightly bigger. That’s why we’ve got to go now! Come on!’

  Poor lighting in the hallway made it difficult to see. ‘Wait a second,’
Michael said. ‘I know there are ways off the roof; I noticed them when we broke in. There must be a hatch in the ceiling that accesses the roof.’

  Just as Michael said that, a raven flew towards them, out of the darkness. It landed on Michael’s shoulder, and then flew off, back into the darkness.

  He looked at Abbe. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

  ‘I don’t know if this is such a good idea.’ Abbe was reluctant to move.

  ‘Quiet,’ Michael whispered. He stopped still. ‘I can feel wind.’

  As they tiptoed down the corridor, hoping not to step on a creaky floorboard, he spotted light. The bird sat on the edge of the hatch.

  ‘Abbe, I think everything’s going to be okay after all.’

  Chapter Ten

  THEY GOT TO THE END of the corridor, just below the hatch.

  ‘Hope you’re not afraid of heights!’ Michael said. He jumped up, grabbed the edge of the hatch and pulled himself up onto the roof.

  ‘Not a problem for me,’ Abbe said.

  ‘Great, take my hand.’

  Abbe jumped and caught Michael’s hand. Michael pulled him through the hatch, onto the roof. ‘Do you recognise any of this?’

  Abbe scanned the area. He blinked, forcing his eyes open as wide as they could go. He gulped, as if swallowing a tennis ball. He started trembling.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘For a long time, I’ve dreamed of seeing my home again. But now I’m scared. If we get caught...’

  Abbe’s words were like a kick in the stomach for Michael. Home. That word was a simple reminder of what he couldn’t just turn around and return to. He felt the exact same way. ‘Well, you’ll be home soon. But we need to get out of here first.’

  Abbe nodded, lifting his tunic to wipe his eyes and nose.

  ‘Let’s go.’

  They stood up from their crouched position on the roof. It was windy, but they were still able to stand.

  In the distance, a commercial jet soared through the sky, cutting through a thick black cloud that crawled across the horizon. Michael thought about being on the flight to England, or on Scarlett’s private jet; how the hum of the cabin lulled him to sleep, how it felt like nothing can catch you up there. He felt free and untouchable. ‘Can’t wait to be on one of them again.’

  ‘I know this place.’ Abbe’s eyes darted around the dense green tree tops in the distance.

  Michael knew Abbe had spent too long locked up. He could see it. Abbe was taking in every free breath with an abundance of gratitude. Like a man being released from prison. A Mancini prison.

  ‘I think if we go in that direction,’ Abbe pointed towards the compound’s entrance, ‘we will find the Dark Tree, and then my village, a little farther.’

  ‘We’re going west, then. Got it. But west, doesn’t that bring us towards Palenque City?’ Michael asked cautiously. Palenque was a city, and a city meant people. People meant government and government meant Mancini Corporation.

  ‘Yes, but it is too far from my village. It is in the same direction, but a long way away. Not within walking distance.’

  ‘Okay.’ Michael grabbed a four inch thick black electric cable that ran from the roof down to the generator. He hung from it. It easily took his weight.

  ‘Once we get to the ground, we run towards that fence there, got it?’ Michael said.

  ‘And how are we getting down there?’ Abbe looked around as if searching for a stairway or a set of ladders.

  Michael nodded at the power cable.

  ‘Ohhh...’ Abbe’s face went pale again. ‘I don’t know, Michael.’

  ‘We don’t have any other choice. It’s now or never.’ Michael took off his leather belt, wrapped one end around his fist, flung it over the line and grabbed the other side, wrapping it around his other hand. ‘Jump on my back!’ He gripped the belt, his knuckles turning white. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here.’

  With Abbe clinging to his back, Michael jumped off the roof, gliding along the power line, his body hanging below in mid-air. He shouted, ‘When I say drop, you drop. Okay...and... DROP!’

  Abbe let go of Michael about ten feet from the ground.

  Michael dropped right after and landed with a thud near the generator. With little more than shock from the impact running from his feet up through his legs, he sprang up from the ground. ‘Let’s go,’ he whispered, scanning the area. The compound looked different in daylight. Abbe was still on the ground.

  ‘What happened?’ Michael ran back and knelt down beside him.

  ‘It’s my ankle; I can’t move it.’ He tried his best to get up off the ground. He was desperate to get up and escape, but his ankle had a different idea.

  The black cloud drew closer. Rain arrived. The sound of raindrops beating off the tree leaves was welcome, if it meant it would drown out the sound of Abbe’s cries.

  ‘Go. Go and get help,’ Abbe said. ‘It’s stupid if we both get caught.’

  Michael stood up with his hands on his temples, feeling responsible. Who did he think he was? Flying through the air like that? He looked at Abbe and sighed. It seemed like there would always be someone left behind at that damn camp! Would he ever manage to get everybody out?

  A sinister thought flashed into his mind: Abbe wasn’t one of the seven, so technically if he stayed... No! I can’t leave anyone behind. He shook his head in disbelief. His morale was wearing down. He was tired, hungry, wet. Exhausted from so many adrenaline overdoses in one day.

  He looked down at Abbe, helplessly lying there in agony. Feeling his blood boil; he clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. He wanted to lash out at something. He crouched down, grabbed Abbe by the hand, and, filled with adrenaline pulled him up and shouted, ‘Climb on my back.’

  ‘It is three or four miles to my village.’

  ‘You can be my eyes from behind.’

  They escaped the compound the way Michael, Sofia, and Ajit had entered.

  ‘I know a place we can take shelter until the rain stops,’ Abbe whispered. ‘Follow this clearing and go that way.’ He pointed past Michael’s head towards a steep hill. ‘After a few minutes, we take a right through the trees and we’ll come to a lagoon and a cave where we can hide. This should be safe as only the Mayan people know about it.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan,’ Michael said, trudging through puddles.

  After about twenty minutes of trekking, Michael was desperate for water. The temples of his head were pounding, his tongue felt like sandpaper. In his state of desperation, he started looking around; the leaves of what looked like a fern were dripping rain water like a tap. He knew rainwater wasn’t the healthiest, but he was desperate. If he wasn’t a normal human, if he really did have diluted blood from Irish gods, then he was sure a little water wouldn’t kill him.

  He placed his head under some leaves that were a little higher than eye-level and looked upwards, letting the water drip onto his tongue. He held his head under that natural tap, and, with squinted eyes, he looked up at the sky through the jungle canopy. The mahogany trees were as tall as some of the old government buildings of Belfast. Impressive. Another world. A world untouched by man.

  There was a feeling of natural serenity to the jungle during the day. The sound of the leaves rustling in the wind, the birds and other animals all played a role in bringing the enchanted world to life.

  ‘Thank you, Michael,’ Abbe said. ‘I have missed this, my home.’

  ‘Don’t mention it.’ Michael wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, water was running down his chin. ‘Lets keep moving.’

  They continued through the trees, off the track. Abbe knew the area better than GPS. No amount of technology would compete with the knowledge of the jungle tribes, handed down through generations.

  ‘This is it!’ Abbe said as they reached an ancient stone wall with an image of Yum Kaax: Lord of the Woods, in Mayan mythology. ‘This is Yum Kaax,’ he said. ‘Hopefully, he is protecting us in our time of need.’

  Michael lunged
through the vegetation. As he pushed his head and body through a wall of monstrous leaves, he stepped into what seemed like paradise: a secluded lagoon fed by a waterfall.

  He flashed back to his trip to Tuscany, stepping into The Otherworld from the gallery. But this was part of their world, just hidden away.

  The turquoise water of the lagoon was so clear they could see the sand-covered bottom, even with the rainfall fracturing the surface. The cave behind the waterfall was created from the natural stone walls that surrounded and hid the natural swimming pool.

  As he stepped out of the vegetation, he felt his feet sink into the crystal white sand. Michael’s adventure had just provided him with the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

  ‘Wow!’ Was all he said.

  ‘This is where I spent a lot of my time growing up,’ Abbe said. ‘And I will never take this beautiful place for granted again.’

  The rain had stopped, and the two sat by the water.

  ‘I’d trade Belfast for this any day.’ Michael laughed. ‘But the Antrim coast, on a sunny day, is one of the most beautiful places on the planet. I just can’t believe that the sculpture has been there, in Bruce's Cave, this whole time.’ He looked down at his feet, shaking his head. ‘The Sirani Foundation has done well to keep it a secret.’

  ‘What sculpture,’ Abbe asked.

  ‘Long story.’

  Even in such tranquil surroundings, Michael made sure complacency didn’t set in. Abbe had an injured ankle, which would slow them down, so Michael had to be twice as vigilant. ‘As much as I want to stay, we’ve got to keep going. Take me to this Dark Tree, Abbe. I’ll take pleasure in destroying that thing.’ Michael felt a sense of excitement. ‘That’ll be the first nail in Mancini Corp’s coffin and one step closer to home again.’

  ‘If we keep going this way, in around half an hour we will reach the tree. Then, it is just another short walk to the village. I can’t wait to see everybody!’ Abbe said, his voice filled with excitement.