The Lost Treasure of the Aztec Kings

by Wyatt Liam Anderson

  ___________

  Hakeem kept twisting and turning, speaking into the radio. He was getting frustrated, and so were the others, but he could not give up yet.

  "Alpha One, calling for Wordsworth. Wordsworth, do you copy? Over."

  They all stood around him, tensed and anxious, hoping that they would get a response. But, instead, Jody was pissed off about the locals that had refused to help and were ranting about it to Daphne, who seemed out of touch with everything that was happening around her.

  "Alpha One, this is Wordsworth channel, copy. Is this the Miles team? Over." A scratchy response came through the radio, and Hakeem nearly jumped for joy. But, instead, the others let out a sigh of relief.

  "Wordsworth channel, affirmative, this is the Miles team. We need to get a message across, over."

  "Copy. What is the message? Over."

  "Please instruct the pilot responsible for our team to come to the mines immediately, over."

  "Copy. Any other instructions?"

  "No. Thank you."

  The transmission ended, and Hakeem sighed in relief. He knew that the others were starting to doubt if anything could come out of the makeshift radio. Still, he knew that there was a Wordsworth Distribution Channel about four hundred miles away from the mines, and they had been given instructions to listen for any signal constantly.

  "Well, what now?" Hugh asked, but nobody had an answer. So, finally, he groaned in frustration and rubbed his hand over his face.

  "Hey, where's Miles?" Hakeem asked as he took the headphones off his head and set them down. Then, he stood up and looked around, and the others looked around as well.

  "He said he was going to check out something, but he isn't back yet," Daphne answered.

  "Something? Did he say what?" Ian asked. He had been completely zoned out before, thinking about what would happen if they were not found and whether or not he was going to die underground.

  "Shit!" Hakeem suddenly cursed. They all looked at him in surprise because he never swore even when snakes attacked them.

  "What is it?" Jody demanded.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a large parchment paper with one side torn.

  "What is that?" Ian asked.

  "This is a map of the mines. Miles gave me this portion to keep and took the other with him."

  "So, he's going off on his own?" Jody exclaimed.

  "Oh God, oh God, oh God," Daphne chanted, holding her head and rocking herself back and forth. The others started speaking all at once, condemning Miles's actions. Jody grabbed a lamp from the ground and buckled on a utility belt. They all watched as she packed her hair back into a ponytail, removed the jacket she was wearing, leaving only the tank top on. There was a scar that ran up her arm; it looked like it would have been excruciating when it was still fresh.

  Zoe went to hold Daphne, who was still rocking back and forth, and tried to calm her. But, unfortunately, she seemed to be the most unstable member of their group.

  "Where are you going?" Hakeem asked when he saw her moving forward.

  "I'm going to look for him."

  "You can't do that."

  "Yeah? Try and stop me."

  "This is stupid, Jody. What if he comes back?"

  "Well, then you get to look for me, but I'm not about to leave the man who dragged us out here with a promise of a whole lot of money out on his own. What if he dies? Or what if he runs away and leaves us here to die? I'm not about to take a chance on his survival skills, and I want my money."

  She stood for a moment to see if anyone would try to stop her again. None of them tried to move, so she turned around and left.

  ___________

  "It's so annoying to think about how huge and intricate these tunnels are. Somewhere always leads to somewhere, and suddenly, you're lost," Eric said, and Miles fought the urge to groan. The man had been droning on for the entire time they were walking together, and he started to wonder if the Catholics planned to talk him to death.

  "Hmm," he responded to try and keep up the facade of believing that was his actual brother. He wasn't sure if the fake had fallen for it or if he was just playing along because after he had given him that little history lesson about who bought what land and sold it to whom, he had not repeated anything worthwhile. He just continued to speak about how awful the church is and how far they had walked.

  "Do you think Mom and Dad are proud of you?" Eric suddenly asked.

  Miles snapped his head back and frowned, wondering why he was asking him that all of a sudden.

  "I certainly hope that they are."

  "Really? What things have you done with your life that they would be proud of?"

  The question hit him harder than he expected, although he knew that was not his brother. He was unsure how to answer it because he had been hiding for most of his life, and his real name was associated with crime. The only thing in his life that he was genuinely proud of was his daughter, and that was why he was doing all that he was doing so that he would provide an excellent life for her.

  "Do you think they're proud of you?" Miles redirected the question.

  "Well, I doubt that, seeing as how I quit the church and started living with a bunch of animals."

  "I think all Mom and Dad ever wanted was for us to be happy."

  "Maybe."

  They fell into silence, the first real one since they had been walking. Miles walked into what looked like a cave entrance but was met with a wall. He turned around and frowned at his map, trying to retrace his steps.

  "Foolish boy," Eric said in a mocking tone. Miles looked up and saw the man standing right outside the entrance, about ten feet away from him. Realizing it was a trap, he ran forward and suddenly heard a significant grinding noise. Then large steel bars rose fast from the ground and connected with the top of the entrance. He was trapped.

  He gripped the bars and glared hard at the illusionist who had reverted into his real face and was smirking at him. He was a thin and tired-looking man with small squinty eyes and worm-like lips.

  "Fell right into that one, didn't you?"

  Miles growled and reached his hand forward through the bars to try and grab him, but he swerved out of reach.

  "Whoa!" he laughed and stood a bit farther back. "You thought getting me to talk would distract me? I knew what you were doing, but you had no idea what I was doing."

  Miles pressed his face against the bars and kept clenching his jaw, feeling incredibly angry at himself for letting what happened to happen. He knew that it wasn’t Eric, but he still got tricked into going in directions that he did not intend to.

  "Now that we've cut off the head of the snake, guess what will happen to the body?"

  "Why don't you come in here and tell me?"

  "Oh no, no. I do not wish to get pummeled. So, I'll stay on this side, but I'd still like to tell you that every single one of your friends will die here."

  "Shut up!" Miles screamed and reached for him again, but the man only laughed.

  "And the best part? Guess who's going to take care of little Robyn?"

  That made Miles snap. He took the pocketknife he kept in his utility belt and swung it at the illusionist. He gasped and swerved sharply, but the knife sliced his cheekbone and his ear, barely missing his eyes. He moaned in pain and grabbed his ear, glaring at Miles, who was glaring back.

  "You touch my daughter, and I'll kill you. I will take your life." The tone of his threat frightened the man, but he just scoffed.

  "Why don't you worry about yourself first." The illusionist reached his hands over his face and brought them down. Miles stared in shock as he seemed to be looking in a mirror. He had morphed his face to be like him, but the wound from his knife was still on his face.

  "See you soon, Pierce."

  18

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ave Fountain

  North Johannesburg, South Africa

  Two men shoveled a heap of bright-colored stones into a huge cart. One of them pres
sed a button, and the cart moved down the track and disappeared through a tunnel on the other side of the wall.

  Another small cart loaded with rocks came up the track and stopped a little distance from where the men stood. The sides of the cart opened automatically, and the contents spilled out onto the ground. Miles couldn't see much from his tiny prison, but he got more than an eyeful when one of the men packed a shovelful of lead into a furnace.

  There was a blast, and the flash almost blinded Miles. More shiny objects were shoveled out of the furnace.

  It wasn't until Miles saw one of the men examining a piece of the shiny stuff that something Harry had said to Miles came to the fore.

  Right here before his very eyes was a heavily guarded secret. Cheap fake gold was produced in commercial quantities, and Harry's natural gems, like every other business, suffered the back-breaking competition from counterfeits.

  Miles watched in amazement as the devious charlatans transmuted lead and mercury into solid gold. From all indications, he could have been fooled if he were to see the result elsewhere. Yet, it looked so shiny and natural.

  A group of men pulled in several small trunks that looked heavy. The crates had had Woodsworth written all over them, Miles observed as they pried the bins open and packed out heaps of gold into a different box. He wondered what they were up to this time.

  The transmuted pieces were loaded into the Woodsworth trunk and carried off to a truck waiting outside. For a minute, Miles doubted the authenticity of Harry's business. Was it possible that Harry sold cheap fake gold to rake in more profit? If that was the case, he was going to make Harry pay his pound of flesh for sending him off to a meaningless adventure and for the lives that had been lost along the way.

  Two men in Woodsworth uniform strolled into the dungeon. Miles thought he could recognize one of them, but he couldn't place where he had seen him before. The men shook hands with the supervisor, and they talked for a long time. Miles curled up on the floor and pretended to be asleep so he could listen in on the conversation.

  He heard the men talking about how quickly the transmuted gold faded and if there was another way of making a better counterfeit that could be sold at a higher price. Miles slowly moved to get a good peek of what went on between the men and the Woodsworth staff. He gasped when he saw the supervisor give the two men a considerable stash of cash.

  Harry Woodsworth was in more deep shit than he had ever imagined.

  ___________

  Houston, Texas

  Liam had partly expected a welcome party at the airport. He wouldn't be surprised if the whole clan turned up at the arrival lounge colorfully dressed with baskets of tacos and cold beer. They never missed a chance to throw a party. Liam could do without the noise and endless questions, but surprisingly, he felt a little disappointed that no one bothered to send a chauffeur to pick him up.

  Perhaps they had decided to respect his need for some quiet.

  Liam got into a taxi and headed home.

  He had not expected the scrutiny he got from the security at the gate when he arrived home. When he mentioned he was Itchaca Tezcacoatl's son, they didn't believe him. Instead, they had insisted on thoroughly searching his luggage, thereby taking out every single item in his suitcase and stripping him down to his underwear. Liam's ego suffered a considerable dip from this, but he sucked it up, believing it was for security reasons.

  No one offered to help him with his luggage even after identifying himself, and he wondered why. Then, as he walked from the gate to the house, he heard a car drive up. He willed himself not to look behind out of curiosity and continued dragging his suitcase behind him.

  Without warning, the car came up the sidewalk and bumped Liam into the rose bush that grew along the sidewalk. Liam felt the rose thorns prick his arms and legs as he tried to free himself from the bush. Then, finally, someone walked up to him, and he thought it was to help him.

  "What are you doing here?" an unfamiliar voice asked.

  This wasn't precisely the tacos and cold beer Liam had expected, and getting knocked over into the bush wasn't an accident either. Liam tried to roll over to free himself but ended up getting more thorns in his side, causing him more pain. He winced as he tried to get to his feet. He noticed his suitcase had burst open and everything was all over the place.

  Without saying a word to the stranger who had asked him a stupid question, Liam set about picking up the things that fell out of his suitcase. Then he tried to pull out as many thorns as possible from his hands, back, legs, and sides. He ignored the curious stares he received from the people that passed by.

  Liam's father was home when he got to the house. He was in a deep discussion with a business associate when Liam walked into the living room. The two had given him a look that made him question his sanity as well as his coordination. They had made him feel like he had walked into the wrong place. Their reaction must have been due to his disheveled appearance.

  Feeling awkward and uncertain about what to do next, Liam had shoved his suitcase under a table at the patio and sat down there to listen to some calming music. He was here for a purpose, and vendetta would come later.

  A shadow fell across the table, and Liam looked up to see a Mexican butler staring back at him with a tight-lipped smile.

  "Come with me. I'll show you your room," the butler said in a heavy Mexican accent. The butler picked up Liam's suitcase and made his way across the terrace.

  Liam was glad for some warmth, even if it was from just the butler. He followed him to a small pool house that was built well away from the main house. Liam wasn't sure what he had expected, but he had hoped he would be given one of the rooms in the large mansion. He couldn't complain. He was grateful to have a place where he could shower and change. He knew he must look a real mess.

  "The bathroom is over there. If you need the Jacuzzi, go through the adjoining door. There's beer and other drinks in the refrigerator. There's a kitchen through the other door. You can help yourself to whatever you like in there, but lunch will be in an hour, and it wouldn't be a good idea to ruin your appetite. If you need anything, call me." The butler walked over to a cradled receiver beside an armchair and lifted it for Liam to see.

  When Liam arrived for lunch almost an hour later, everyone else was already seated at the table, and there were so many of them. He felt the surprised and curious eyes of his cousins and aunties bore into him as he made his way to the table. Finally, he found an empty chair and took his seat. There was chattering and laughter before he came in, but now the silence was deafening and awkward.

  "My, if it isn't Liam," a middle-aged woman exclaimed. Liam didn't miss the heavy sarcasm behind her remark.

  "Talk about the prodigal," someone chuckled.

  "It's good to see you again," another auntie said.

  Liam forced a smile. He noticed he was the only one at the table with blond hair and paler skin. The food arrived just in time, and the tension eased as everyone started chattering again.

  Mexican food was never Liam's thing, and he had a hard time understanding why every dish must have jalapenos in them. As a result, Liam struggled with his meal while everyone else took a second and even third helping.

  After lunch, Liam met with his father for a chat. But, unfortunately, he didn't have the best of relationships with his father, and the older man was reluctant to grant him an audience until Liam hinted he had the power to restore the family fortunes.

  ___________

  "I wonder how much longer we have to wait, "Daphne complained. "It's a real bore sitting around here doing nothing. Worse still, we don't know what's going to happen next."

  "Hang on, Daphne. In no time, we will be out of here," Gary tried to comfort her.

  "I wonder what is going on. Miles is taking too long," Jacques said. "I hope he hasn't come to any danger in this dangerous place. It was not a good idea for him to venture off alone."

  "Maybe we should go and look for him," Jody suggested.

 
"But we don't even have a map or enough supplies with us," Robert said.

  "You are right, Robert. But he might need us now. Are we going to sit back and fold our arms? I am going to find him. Who is coming with me?"

  No one wanted to risk their lives anymore. They tried to make Jody see the reasons why it wasn't safe to venture off into the labyrinth all by herself, but she wouldn't listen. She was convinced Miles could be in danger, and he needed them to rescue him.

  Jody wandered off with nothing but her flashlight, backpack, and intuition to guide her to Miles. She stumbled through the mine, half afraid but determined that she was doing the right thing. There were times when she almost turned back because she realized there was indeed strength in numbers. She had felt safe with the group, and various tasks had seemed so easy because there were more hands to do them.

  Jody noticed a ray of light on the wall behind her, and she heard someone call her name twice. Cold shivers ran down her spine when she heard her name again then followed by running footsteps. Without waiting to find out who or what it was, Jody broke into a run.

  "Jody, stop! It's me!"

  Run! another voice screamed in her head. Goosebumps rose on her skin, and she didn't dare to look back. She was afraid she might get into more trouble if she did.

  Finally, Jody came to a dead end; the only way forward was to go up some rickety old scaffold that had a good number of steps on it broken. It was either that or risk being caught. Quickly, Jody scrambled up the platform, carefully avoiding as many broken parts as she could.

  She had almost made it to the top when she stepped on a weak frame without looking. The scaffold lurched forward, and Jody fell to the ground. She saw a ray of light hover above her before she blacked out.

  Heavy footsteps approached the door, and everyone scurried to their feet.