Well, today they would see what would happen to them of they didn’t settle down and toe the line. The lesson would be clear. If El Huracán could do this to mere children, what might he do to them?
Somewhere up there stood the man himself. He would be all smiles and politeness, behaving as if he was at a society horse race rather than a human sacrifice.
James tried not to think about the spectators. He had to focus on the challenges ahead one at a time and put all other thoughts out of his mind. He had to remember his training – all those long evenings on the beach with Precious – and keep a clear, level head.
There were animal droppings soiling the stone floor that began to slope downward into a pool of murky green water. They both knew that they would have to duck under a submerged arch and enter the chamber beyond.
And they both knew what had left the droppings.
The chamber contained a tank full of vicious, baby crocodiles.
The water stank, but James and Precious stank too. One of James’s recent jobs had been to help place animal repellent around the edges of some of the buildings. It was a noxious paste made of mint oil, garlic oil, putrescent eggs, thyme oil, salt and water.
It was designed to keep snakes and lizards away and some of the men rubbed it on to their legs when they were working in the jungle. The paste was kept in soft leather bags in the store shed.
James had had no trouble taking two of the bags and he and Precious had hidden them under their clothing the night before, strapped to their bodies. Before entering the rat run they had managed to smear their bodies all over with the foul- smelling stuff. They had no way of knowing if it would work on crocodiles, but it made them feel better thinking they had done something to prepare.
They waded down the slope into the water, which was blood temperature. James hoped that the repellent wouldn’t all be washed off. At least the water would help to spread the evil smell and warn the nasty little snappers that perhaps this wasn’t lunch swimming into their tank.
The water was up to their knees, their hips, their waists, their chests…
Their necks.
‘Now,’ said James. ‘Let’s go. Be quick.’
They held their breaths and ducked under the stone arch into the chamber. Once they were on the other side, they stood up and surged across the tank like dervishes, thrashing at the water with their palms and yelling in order to frighten off the baby crocodiles.
At one point James thought he felt something nip at his heel, but he could have been imagining it. When they reached the other side, they dived under the second arch and splashed up the slope to dry land.
There was a cheer from the watching men and a couple of encouraging shouts. James looked down at his body. There were no bite marks. A quick check of Precious showed that she, too, had come through unscathed.
James grinned. They had survived the first trial without a scratch. They did stand a chance. But they couldn’t hang about patting each other on the back. The pattern of tiny holes in the floor reminded them that, at any moment, sharp metal spikes would start stabbing up at them from below.
They faced one another, backed up until their heels were touching the outer walls, then leant forward, and locked themselves together, holding on to each other’s arms, as if they were opposing props in a rugby scrum. James’s head was tucked under Precious’s right shoulder, and her head was tucked under his.. They had formed a human arch across the alleyway, braced by the walls, their faces about 4 feet off the ground.
This was the trickiest manoeuvre they had rehearsed, and James saw that the alley was very slightly wider than the one they built by the beach to practise on. No matter, they would just have to try their best.
Holding firmly to Precious, he put one foot up so that it was flat against the wall. Precious did the same. They both now had to step up the wall in unison.
‘On three,’ said James. ‘One, two, three…’
They both lifted their other feet off the ground and placed them higher up the wall so that they were now completely suspended over the floor, each held in place by the pressure from the other.
‘Again,’ James grunted, and on the count of three they both took another step higher, and, as they did so, they saw the first of the spikes shoot out and stab vainly at the air.
They started to move down the alleyway, now, towards the next obstacle, sliding their feet sideways and keeping all their muscles tensed to stop their arch from collapsing. The effort required was immense and already James could feel a fiery pain down his legs, but slowly, ever so slowly, they shuffled along, their bodies trembling and shaking.
Crushed against Precious like this, the smell of the repellent was strong, but James barely noticed it. All his concentration was spent on crabbing along the wall and keeping hold of Precious. Below them they could see the cruel spikes popping out of their lairs. James prayed that they wouldn’t slip, because if either one of them lost their grip, the arch would collapse and they would both fall face downward on to the spikes.
At last, though, they reached the wall at the end of the alley. The next trial was scorpions. To get into their lair you were supposed to worm your way through a narrow gap at the base of the wall.
But James and Precious had no intention of crawling into the scorpions’ lair. Instead, they were going to go over the top of it.
First, though, they would have to climb up to the top of the den.
‘Are you OK?’ said James.
‘I think so,’ said Precious. ‘But I can’t hold on much longer, my neck is killing me.’
‘Come on, then, let’s go… one… two… three…’
On three they once more walked up the stonework together. Lifting their human arch another few inches. They carried on like this until they were high enough to shift sideways and perch on the top of the wall that bridged the alley.
Now, all they had to do was drop down the other side on to the iron bars that spanned the scorpion pit and simply walk across them to the other side.
The spectators were clapping and laughing and whooping.
James heard El Huracán’s voice call out to them.
‘That is cheating.’
‘Show me in the rules where it says we can’t do this,’ James shouted back.
‘Yeah,’ rang out another man’s voice. ‘Hats off to ’em, I say. I like their style.’
‘Very well,’ said El Huracán. ‘Continue.’
James and Precious took a moment to catch their breath. They were perfectly safe up here. They could see the scorpions through the bars, scurrying about harmlessly beneath their feet like an exhibit at the zoo.
At the far end they hopped up on to the low wall and looked down into the anaconda pit. There was the great thing, curled up, bigger than any snake James had ever seen before.
‘So far so good,’ said James.
‘Yes,’ said Precious. ‘That’s three down, seven to go.’
‘Ready for the next bit?’ James asked.
‘As I’ll ever be.’
‘Let’s hope our luck holds out,’ said James. ‘I’ll go first.’
He closed his eyes for a moment, rolled his shoulders and flexed his knees.
They were meant to have entered the snake pit from the scorpions’ den, when they would have had no choice but to drop down on to the anaconda, but from up here it was possible to jump clean across the pit.
The gap was about 12 feet, and it was a standing jump, but they had the bonus of height.
It was one thing, though, to practise jumping on the beach, when to fall short meant nothing worse than a face full of sand. Making a mistake here would mean landing on top of an angry serpent.
James, though, was used to this sort of thing. He had learnt the skill of taking dangerous jumps on the rooftops of Eton with his friends in the Danger Society.
He squatted down, steeled himself, then threw himself forward. He landed cleanly on the other side and rolled over to break his fall.
; ‘Come on,’ he shouted, getting to his feet. ‘You can do it. It’s just like we’ve practised.’
Precious took a deep breath, and, with a loud cry, sprang off the wall.
She made it easily and rolled forward just as James had done.
They had made it past Gucumatz, the serpent god, without even waking him.
James pulled Precious to her feet. They had to keep moving. They were in the part of the run watched over by Kinich Kakmo, the sun god.
They were on the hot plates.
They could already feel the heat rising from the fires beneath the run, and they could see the air shimmering above the metal plates that made up the floor.
They moved quickly, but didn’t run, knowing that if they slipped they would be badly scalded.
As part of their preparations they had laboriously cut out foot-shaped inserts for their shoes from the thin steel sheets used for repairing the water tower. The inserts would insulate their shoes, but once the red-hot floor burnt though the soles, they would start to conduct heat, so they couldn’t dawdle.
Their wet shoes hissed with each step and there was a strong burning smell. It was soon clear, however, that they had once again outfoxed El Huracán. In a minute they were plunging into the water-filled trench that divided this part of the run from the next.
They knew there were leeches in here so they didn’t wait around cooling their feet. Keeping their hands and arms above the surface of the water, they surged across the trench as quickly as they could.
After this it was going to get a lot more difficult. Chunks and Dum-Dum had painted a fairly vivid picture of the next trial, but after that they were entering largely unknown territory. The stolen drawing had helped. It had given them measurements and distances, but it didn’t explain everything.
James tried to clear his mind. One thing at a time. He would need all his concentration to get past Balam-Agab, the night jaguar.
They walked slowly and carefully along the alley, watching out for the razor wires that were strung across it somewhere. A grating sound told them that the animal’s door was opening behind them.
They had no tricks. There was no way of fighting the jaguar. They had thought of no ingenious way of surviving this trial. They just had to hope they could get to the razor wire before the big cat got to them.
James glanced back to see it trot out into the run, sniffing the air. It saw the children and curled its lip, then dropped into a crouch. It gave a long low, rattling growl and took up the sinister pose James had seen so many times before when a domestic cat senses a mouse.
It was stalking them.
29
Sweet Terror
Possessed by the ancient instinct to hunt and kill, the jaguar crawled towards them, keeping low, its wide, staring, yellow eyes fixed on its prey. It was lean and sleek. El Huracán would have made sure that it was kept hungry.
James felt his heart thumping against his chest. His breathing was coming fast and shallow. For a moment he forgot about the danger ahead. He wasn’t brave enough to take his eyes off the jaguar, and he turned away from the razor wire. He crept backwards, tensing himself, repeating a string of words in his head, over and over again.
Please don’t jump, please don’t jump, please don’t jump…
‘James!’
James froze – just as Precious shouted – and he felt a pricking at his neck, then a tickle, as warm liquid flowed down his back.
He had reached the first wire. He stepped away from it, towards the cat, and quickly glanced around. Precious was by his side, a terrified look on her face.
He put a hand to his neck. It came away wet with blood. It was his first injury in the rat run. If the jaguar pounced it would not be his last.
Still it crept forward.
James had no choice now but to turn his back on the cat and face the wire. It took every ounce of bravery left in him to tear his eyes away from the stalking beast.
At first he was blind in his panic, but then he realised he was looking directly at a thin strand of razor wire, strung with tiny, ruby jewels of blood.
He crouched down. The shining strands of death stretched ahead of him for about 15 feet, crisscrossing the alley like a giant spider’s web.
There had to be a way, through. This was not the last obstacle. Yes, the next wire was just below knee height and there was room above it to fit through. He straddled the wire, desperately trying to keep his balance. Then, still keeping low, he shifted his weight and eased his body over. He couldn’t straighten up, though, because he had spotted a third wire directly above him.
Precious was rooted to the spot. The jaguar had edged still closer and was only a few feet away from her.
‘Move,’ said James harshly. ‘Do it.’
Precious came to life and nodded.
‘Keep down,’ said James, and he guided her past the first set of wires.
Now the jaguar stopped, waiting. Did it know about the wires? Did it usually wait for its prey to get tangled and then make its move?
It gave a frustrated yowl.
James and Precious had trained hard for this part. They had fixed string across their own alleyway and by steadying each other they had practised stepping over and ducking under it.
It was very different with the real thing. The wires were hard to see, and they were placed ingeniously so as to be as difficult as possible to get past. With fear pumping around their bodies and the jaguar watching them hungrily, James and Precious felt clumsy and awkward. But they carried on, staring at the deadly wires, knowing that if they made any wrong moves they would slip and the wires would cut through them like butter.
They crawled on their bellies, they high-stepped, they bent double, they contorted themselves in every way imaginable, but, by helping each other, they made steady progress.
Soon the jaguar was forgotten. He dared not come after them into the deadly forest of wires. A furious snarl was the last they heard of him.
They crossed the final wire and for the first time realised that they had not come through unscathed. As well as the cut in his neck, James saw that his shirt was slashed at the front and a thin red line showed across his chest. Precious had cuts to her arms and legs that were bleeding freely.
It could have been worse, though. Much worse.
They now became aware of a noise. The deep rumbling and grinding sound of huge stones moving against each other. They had studied the plans, and James had seen the workings below in the tunnel.
They knew a little of what to expect.
They climbed a flight of worn steps and looked out across the next trial.
Millstones, 20 feet wide. Laid flat and rotating fast. Three great circles set in a line. And, rolling in place on top of them, on the left-hand side, like huge steamrollers, were three immense grindstones, each one of which must have weighed at least a ton.
James and Precious would have to get across each spinning millstone in turn. The first and last ones were turning in a clockwise direction, but the one in the middle was spinning in the opposite direction, anticlockwise.
It would be very hard to stay upright. And if they fell the consequences would be awful. If they spilt off the sides they would be mangled in the workings below and if they stayed on, they would be crushed to a pulp between the millstone and the grindstone.
The noise of the machinery and the crunching, booming sound of the grindstones were deafening. It sounded like huge rocks, rolling and crashing down a mountainside.
Once again there was no clever way to beat the trap, and they had had no way of practising for it. They would simply have to rely on skill and balance and timing. They would have to jump on to the first stone, which was turning towards them, outrun it, then jump over to the second stone and let it carry them round to the next jump, where they would have to repeat the process.
‘Take off your shoes,’ said James. ‘You’ll have better grip.’
James pulled off his ruined shoes, and one of them fell on t
o the millstone. It spun round and went under the grindstone. A second later they saw it come out the other side, squashed flat like a bug on a windscreen.
‘I can’t do it,’ said Precious.
‘Yes, you can,’ said James.
‘It’s impossible,’ said Precious. ‘We’ll be crushed.’
‘We can make it,’ said James. ‘We’ve got this far, haven’t we? We’re nearly at the end. There are only three obstacles left after this.’
‘You go first,’ she said. ‘Show me how to do it.’
‘All right.’
There was just room at the top of the steps to backtrack and take a short run up. James got ready, calculating that the safest bet would be to match the first wheel’s speed until he got the feel of it and then accelerate for the second jump.
Well, there was no point in standing here worrying about it. He had to keep moving.
Don’t think. Act.
He ran. He jumped. He carried on running.
He had calculated right. After a tiny stumble, he found himself running on the spot.
‘See,’ he shouted, but, as he did so, his pace dropped and he began to rotate round towards the grindstone.
He sped up, and started to run faster than the wheel was turning, so that he moved round it towards the second wheel, which was separated by a 2-foot wide drop. Now it got more difficult. The second wheel was rotating in the opposite direction. If he got it wrong his feet would be taken out from under him. He jumped across. His landing was awkward, but he stayed upright and found himself being spun around at great speed.
There was no time to think. He had to make the next jump straight away or risk being carried on round and into the jaws of the grindstone. He used the momentum of the wheel to hurl him over on to the third millstone and was running in the air before he hit it.
As he landed he teetered and fell, rolling forward in a half-somersault. Somehow he scrambled to his feet and started running again, but he had slipped a long way back and was dangerously close to the grindstone. He could hear it behind him, roaring and tumbling, and he could feel it sucking in the air. He glanced back. He was right on top of it. If he clipped it with his heel it would pull him down and under.
Hurricane Gold Page 26