Chapter Ten #2
Meanwhile, on the inside of the wall, Fernando and KuTu were still clearing the area near Structure II and the stairway leading down into the ground.
Juan had reported around mid-morning that they’d made it to the bottom of the stairwell only to find it completely obstructed with chunks of limestone large and small that appeared to have been roughly piled up—a blockade, with only narrow cracks to peer through.
Unfortunately, their flashlights hadn’t been able to pierce the darkness beyond, which meant at some point, and probably soon, Angélica would want to dismantle that obstruction and find out what awaited them on the other side.
Quint took another sip of water, turning to look at the wall.
A short distance away, the pile of skulls remained in front of it, untouched by all per Angélica’s orders, with empty eye sockets staring back at him.
The ancestors were not easily parting with their secrets about this site—at least not yet, anyway.
But Quint doubted Angélica would give up the hunt for answers without a thorough dig, which meant that he needed to get used to sweating his ass off for a good long time, dammit.
If only they’d left on vacation one day sooner.
Who was he trying to kid? No matter where they’d been in the world, one call from her boss at INAH about this site and Angélica would have wanted to hop on a plane and get back here. Although it turned out that beating Fernel to the punch hadn’t really mattered.
It could have been fun, just the two of them. No snakes to watch for with every step. No father sharing a room with them each night. No ticks to pick off nightly or creepy worms falling out of trees. No lies between them.
But here he stood in this goddamned jungle staring at a pile of skulls. Sighing, he wiped away the bead of sweat trailing down his forehead before it could run into his eye.
Oh well, lies had been told and decisions made. For now, he needed to focus on helping Angélica while trying to be a good little worker demon.
Quint glanced up at the trio of keel-billed toucans croaking in a nearby ceiba tree.
This place was a gold mine for a photojournalist, that was for sure.
He could think of at least five different publications that would be interested in fresh news from the jungle frontlines, in addition to the extensive piece INAH had hired him to write.
From magazines that focused on outdoor adventures to photo-heavy journals showing colorful wildlife and butterflies, there were plenty of opportunities to make some extra cash when it was all said and done.
Instead of spending money on the lavish vacation he’d planned, he would be making more cash to stow away for the future, so not all was a waste.
He turned back to the cache findings. So many weapons.
What the hell had been going on at this place?
Was it some sort of long-term ammunitions storage area, like Hawthorne Army Depot in the Nevada boonies?
Oh, there was another possible article—a piece on weapons, Maya warriors, and how guerrilla warfare has changed.
Maybe he could find someone who knew how to make a macuahuitl and write about the process.
Or he could test a macuahuitl lined with obsidian blades versus modern-day steel to see which did more damage.
The sound of footfalls approaching from behind made Quint turn … and then laugh.
Angélica looked like she’d stepped into the ring with a dust devil and taken a knock-out punch. A layer of dirt powdered her braided hair, face, camp shirt, and cargo pants.
“What happened to you?” he asked, searching for a clean spot.
After they’d returned from taking a lunch break back at the camp, she’d headed over the wall to check on Fernel and Esteban, the newest crew member to join them. Although Esteban wasn’t really new. He’d been part of Angélica’s regular crew for years.
Pedro had flown Esteban in yesterday afternoon on his return from Cancun with more “supplies”—apparently his supply list had included the human kind.
Quint was glad for the extra help, especially since Esteban was not only energetic, but also experienced on dig sites.
Not to mention trustworthy as hell, although a little klutzy.
The young Maya had been extremely loyal to Angélica and Juan ever since they’d added him to their crew to help him support his family after his father no longer could.
Angélica rubbed the back of her neck, grimacing at the dirt on her fingers when she finished. “We had a little incident on the other side of the wall.”
Quint offered her his water. “Anybody get hurt?”
“Just a few scratches, but my backside probably has some bruising.” She took his canteen and gulped some water.
“I could rub those bruises better tonight after lights-out.”
“Don’t forget about Dad.”
“I don’t think he’d enjoy the backside rub near as much as you. Now, explain how you got this wild and dusty look you’re sporting this afternoon. Maybe I should take a picture of you for the INAH writeup. What do you think?”
She smiled. “Try it and I’ll toss your fancy camera in the aguada for the alligators to eat.” She handed the canteen back to him. “I look like this because Dr. Fernel is a bit clumsy.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed.”
“And so is Esteban.”
He grimaced. “But the boy means well.”
“Tell that to his feet.” Angélica frowned at the collection from the cache laid out before them. “I stand by my previous statement—this is a lot of weaponry. Did you finish with inventory?”
He nodded. “The counts are written in my notes. Turns out the cache Daisy found yesterday on the inside of the wall held more weapons, especially the short-range sort like daggers and leftover obsidian blades from macuahuitl.”
She squatted next to the collection of arrowheads, touching one of the pointed tips. “How much more?”
Quint took another sip of water before answering.
“Not quite twice as many, but they were definitely more fortified inside of the wall for up-close fighting than here on the outside. Arrows were more popular out here.” He capped his canteen.
“Do you think Structure I was an outpost of some sort, used to try to stop the enemy from climbing the wall?”
Although he still couldn’t make sense of why the wall would be shorter here on the outside than inside. It seemed like that should be reversed. Unless having the enemy fall to their death while trying to climb down on the inside was the goal.
“Maybe.” She picked up one of the dagger blades, hefting the weight in her hand, and then carefully set it back down.
“We’ll know more soon. At least that’s what Dr. Fernel told me a bit ago.
He’s over there checking on his GPS data points right now so that he can do some final calculations—or something—for his mapping software. ”
“Meaning we’ll be able to see more clearly what’s actually hidden under the jungle throughout the rest of Site 5?”
“That’s the idea.” She stood up, glancing at where Pedro and Bronko were now hacking their way through a dense cluster of scrub brush, cursing with every step forward. “Come here,” she said, taking him by the wrist. “We need some privacy for a moment.”
“I like the sound of that,” he joked, letting her lead him around the side of Structure I until they were shielded from the others by not only the building, but also some small trees that were growing out of a mound of ferns.
After another check on the others, Angélica moved in close enough that he could smell the layer of dirt on her. “I think I figured out what Daisy called you yesterday. What she meant.”
“You mean ‘key-me’?”
“Yeah. I should have realized right away, but I was a little distracted with Daisy finding that cache and then Fernando and Raul discovering the stairway beside Structure II.”
“Don’t forget about Fernel digging in before you’d given the green light and your dad finding the second cache on our way back to camp,” Quint told her.
“Right. It was a busy day, but I should have added one and one together after what KuTu had said about you that day with the vultures.” She glanced behind her before adding in an even lower voice, “It’s spelled k-i-m-i.”
“ ‘Kimi’?” he repeated, planting the proper spelling in his head. “So what does it mean?”
“It’s the name of your Maya spirit companion—your nahual.”
That sounded like “gnaw-wall” and didn’t ring any bells. “I’m still in the dark here. Explain, please.”
“Both ancient and contemporary Maya people believe that we all have spirit companions of some sort based on our date of birth.”
“Like astrological signs?”
“Somewhat. These spirit companions hint of your character traits. For example, my nahual is an awk.”
“Like a-w-k?”
“It’s actually spelled ‘o-k,’ but you have the sound right. An ok is a dog. Those of us with a dog spirit companion are supposedly courageous and fair and hon …” she trailed off, her mouth tightening.
“Honest?” he finished for her.
She nodded.
He raised one eyebrow, waiting to see if she was going to expound on that trait since they were standing in this very spot right now due in part to her not being honest with him.
“Anyway,” she continued, avoiding his gaze. “We are supposedly good leaders when it comes to exploring new places, and we’re adept at problem solving and researching.”
He focused on what she was saying instead of the lie she was still hiding behind. “That sounds about right for you, boss lady. You and your ok have done well so far in this life.”
She shrugged. “My dog pal and me do what we can.”
“My buddy is kimi?” When she nodded, he asked, “What does kimi mean?”
She looked up at him, cringing slightly. “Kimi is death.”
“You’re messing with me.”
Her green gaze held his. “I’m serious.”
“Shit.” He scoffed. “I tell you, a good demon can’t catch a break around this place.”
“Think of death in this case as in transformation, moving from one cycle to another.”