Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
At the picnic table, over fruit salad and cups of coconut milk (undeniable proof that I was a changed woman), Hunter and I discussed where we should start our search.
“I assume I’d be okay if a snake bit me again, but I think I’d rather avoid it if I can,” I said.
“I’ll search the black rocks alone, and you can explore the surrounding area.”
“Or we, and by that, I mean you, could try to remove all the twisting beasts out of the way first, and we can look together. Didn’t you say you have some special stick to catch them?”
“It’s broken.”
“Well, what about this?” I pointed at his three-pronged fishing spear. “You can hit the snakes with that.”
Hunter arched an eyebrow. “We are not killing snakes.” He stepped around the fire pit and dropped his used mug into the tub with water. “Let’s look in the shed and see what we can find.”
On the way there, we foraged in the jungle until we picked two long, sturdy branches. Inside the shed, we collected two ten-gallon buckets with lids, a gardening hand trowel, an extra hammer, and a large shovel.
At the rocks, Hunter began searching for nasty creatures.
I stayed in the knee-high water, in a ready-to-missile-out-of-there position, in the event a rogue snake escaped and swam to me.
I assumed the snakes knew how to swim, at least for a short distance, otherwise Darwin’s law would have taken care of them in the last two hundred years.
And it was great that it didn’t because we wouldn’t have figured out the riddle.
The bucket sat on a lower rock, and, using the sticks, Hunter tried to pick up a snake and drop it into the container.
Each time he pulled one up, it fell. At first, Hunter cursed under his breath, but by the end he shouted all kinds of profanity, jumping backward like a mongoose in a dance with a cobra.
Twenty minutes later, we had only one snake secured under the lid.
Hunter tossed the stick, shifted between rocks, and bent.
He cursed, then rose back up, gripping two snakes by their necks, their bodies twisting over his arm.
He opened the lid and shook them off into the bucket, then shut the lid back down. Blood dripped off his arm.
The crushing panic knocked the breath out of me. I rushed to him, but I stopped by the bucket as he opened it and dropped another snake.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Never been better. Grab another one of these buckets from the shed. Take this one to the beach.”
I grimaced when he handed me the bucket. The top was secured—I hoped—but my breakfast threatened to make a second appearance.
“Please don’t catch any more until I’m back,” I said. “Rest a bit.”
I returned as fast as possible with another ten-gallon drum, and Hunter repeated his bare-hands-catching technique.
Nine snakes later, Hunter checked the area for more but couldn’t find any.
He extended his bloody hand to me and helped me climb the rocks.
Both of his arms and ankles bled, and the spot between his thumb and index finger had bloody holes.
“Hunter, you got…” I counted all the bites, “six doses of—”
“I’ll be okay.” Hunter pressed his back against a wall. “I just need a minute.” He closed his eyes and exhaled heavily.
“You aren’t okay.”
“Nah, just give me a few to rest.” He slid down and dropped his head to his knees.
I took the third bucket to the beach and then climbed over the rocks where Hunter was. “You should’ve listened to me and brought your fishing pole. Snakes are nasty animals.”
Hunter didn’t answer, just groaned from pain or maybe from my nagging.
I sat next to him and stroked his back. Lazy waves lapped over the rocks with a steady pulse, and the warm breeze carried the scent of the salt.
We remained there for some time, Hunter resting while I stared into the sea, the blue, cloudless skies above promising of a nice day.
When the blood stopped running down Hunter’s legs and hands, we started by throwing the smaller stones into the sea.
Some of Hunter’s wounds started bleeding again.
With all the manageable rocks out of the way, we studied the area.
Nothing looked out of place, and we tried to think of where Captain William Thompson may have hidden the fortune.
“You think it could be under this enormous stone?” Hunter pointed at two giant stone slabs. I shrugged and handed him the hammer and the large screwdriver.
No matter how many times Hunter smashed it, the block stayed in one piece.
He dropped the tools, positioned his back against a rock wall, planted his feet on the stone, and pushed.
The slab gave in and moved a fraction of an inch.
I joined him, and together, we forced it off its spot, but not far enough to easily see what was under it.
The water spilled from under the slab each time a new wave hit.
“There must be an open space,” he said. “I’ll try to pull this end up, and you look underneath.”
He wiped the sweat off his forehead, leaving a red mark from his bloodied arm, and stood above the stone with his legs wide apart.
Groaning, Hunter lifted the hunk of rock, and I hunched down, prepared to peer inside.
Water splashed into my eyes, and I recoiled, rubbing them.
Blinking rapidly, I tried again to look into the void below.
Another wave hit, covering what possibly looked like two wooden trunks. My heart skipped a bit with excitement.
“I see it,” I shrieked.
“Watch out!” Hunter yelled.
I jerked back as he dropped the stone.
“What was there?” Hunter panted.
I smiled wider. “I think there are chests.”
Hunter twisted on the spot, his eyes searching for something. “We need to add round rocks under the slab and roll it off. I will lift it, and you put them under.” It was a good idea, but Hunter’s hands were visibly shaking.
“Your arms are tired,” I said. “We know where it is. We can come back later.”
Hunter shook his head, breathing hard but grinning. “We’re so close. I have to see it.”
He’d been searching for years, so I couldn’t blame him for not wanting to wait any longer. And I couldn’t rob him of this moment. I hoped the trunks held a genuine fortune this time, not the gunk of centuries-old papers.
Hunter stepped down and reached into the ocean.
He splashed water on his face and washed his arms. Meanwhile, I climbed higher and found two soccer-ball-sized rocks to use as wheels.
I brought one down. Then I returned to get the next one, and out of nowhere, a black snake struck my wrist. An awful scream escaped me.
I staggered back, clamping my hand around my right forearm, tears stinging my eyes.
Hunter sprinted to me and pulled me into a hug. He kissed the top of my head. I sobbed into his chest, not so much from pain as from the shock of attack. My ears rang as a slight tingling sensation prickled in my fingers and toes. A heavy fog rolled into my head.
Hunter let me out of his embrace, but his hands kept a grip on my arms. “How are you feeling?”
“A little dizzy.” I checked the two punctures on my arm, the skin swelling around it.
“It should pass soon,” Hunter said. He helped me lower myself to the rock in the shade. Dizziness washed over my body and the teeth marks burned like hell. Hunter rested against the wall, stretching out his legs.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t catch them all,” he said in a low voice.
“It’s okay.” I lay down, using his muscular thigh as my pillow, closing my eyes. Hunter’s fingers gently stroked my head and ran down my back.
After some rest, I sat up, swayed, and blinked a few times to regain my focus.
“Any nausea or pain?” Hunter took my injured arm and examined the bite with dry blood around it.
“I feel fine.” The battered skin looked irritated and swollen, but the earlier brain fogginess wasn’t there anymore, and I was determined to finish what we had started. Shaking off the discomfort in my arm, I said, “We have unfinished business.”
Hunter gave me an “are you sure” look but rose at the same time as I did.
He fetched the other rounded stone and then took up his position, placing his long, strong legs near the slab, his large hands gripping the edge.
He raised the immense slab. I tried to stuff a rock under it, but it wouldn’t go.
“Higher,” I yelled.
Hunter grunted, lifting the slab higher. I plunged deeper and placed the first stone beneath it. If he dropped the rock, it would’ve been the end of me. I was shoulders-deep beneath the six-hundred-pound slab, pushing the second stone under.
“Sydney!” Hunter roared in warning.
I drew out just as Hunter’s hands let go. He staggered back, breathing hard. “What now?” I asked.
“We need to push it off and repeat until we have enough space to go down there.”
* * *
Exhausted, covered in blood and sweat, enjoying the strange, brutal ecstasy of finding a part of the treasure, Hunter and I sat cross-legged on the beach sheltered from the scorching sun by the palm tree, a handful of gold coins and a colorful rain of cut gems of different sizes and shades between us.
I was mesmerized by the glimmer and unable to believe what I was witnessing.
Underneath the slab in a large cavity, we discovered three chests filled with doubloons and leather pouches full of precious stones.
Hunter picked up a smaller bag and tipped it over.
Clear, polished stones fell out, their sparkles blinding me.
He swirled his finger in the gems, turning them over.
When they caught the sunlight, they shined an even more beautiful, radiant glow.
“This is amazing,” I said. I couldn’t wait to find the last hidden part of the treasure, the seven-foot solid gold statue of the Virgin Mary with Baby Jesus.
But not today. Hunter and I deserved rest. I gestured to his and my bloody arm.
“Let’s take a break for a day or two to heal and then continue our search. ”
“Okay.” Hunter rubbed his swollen hand over the bloody dots. “You take some of these to the hut, and I’ll free the snakes.”
“Are you sure? Can we just let them eat each other?”
Hunter shook his head, unimpressed with my suggestion. “No. It’s their home.”
Fine. Hunter was right, but after today, I would never want to come even close to that place.
“Should we get the chests from the hole first?” I asked, touching an aching spot on my arm.
Hunter glanced at the black rocks, pulling his lips to the side, thinking.
“It’s safer to keep them hidden there for now.
We have enough to take back with us as proof we found the Treasure of Lima, or part of it at least. We will use the contacts that Edward gave and bring the right people on board to excavate it. ”
I sighed, handing back a doubloon to him. “I’ll help you push the slab back into its place.”