Chapter Twenty-Five
“I’m coming down there,” Angélica said, shining her light around the ragged edges of the hole in the floor. “Don’t do anything crazy until I get there.”
She looked down through the hole again, coughing on the dust still churning in the air. Quint wasn’t much more than ten feet down, fifteen at most. If he could clear a flat, rubble-free spot for her …
“No,” he said in a quiet voice. “Don’t come down here.”
“Quint, I’m not going to—”
“You need to figure out how to get me back topside, and you can’t do that from down here.”
She rubbed her neck, scanning the tunnel around her, her fingers brushing over Quint’s protection charm and her mom’s locket. She had to find some way to get him out of there, dammit.
There were no vines, no ropes, or any sort of tools she could use to reach him. Panic welling in her throat made it hard to swallow. Maybe she could tie her pants and shirt together to use as a … No, they were thin cotton and would barely hold her weight, let alone his.
What about Pedro and Bronko? They could cut some root vines from a strangler fig and come help pull him out.
She looked back at the partially open wall, shining her flashlight into the darkness beyond. Where the hell was KuTu? She stood and slid through the opening in the wall, taking several steps deeper into the shadows.
“KuTu,” she called out. “Come back!”
Crap! She forgot to switch to Mayan.
“KuTu, we need your help back at the wall!” she shouted in his native tongue.
Actually, was Mayan his native language? If his story about the past was true …
A screech came up and out from the hole in the floor.
Quint!
Angélica rushed back through the wall opening, stepping carefully as she neared the edge of the hole. She kneeled, shining her light down below. The dust had settled more, so it was easier to make out the broken pieces of bones.
“Quint?” she whispered. “Where are you?”
He stepped into her light, holding his finger to his lips and then pointing toward something she couldn’t see.
What was down there with him? Her heart bucked in her chest.
She shined her light back through the opened wall.
Goddammit, KuTu! Where are you?
She had to do something! She couldn’t lose Quint to whatever had left all those bones down there.
Angélica stood, panting as she shined her light toward the path back to the jungle.
The hole in the floor was about four feet across.
An easy jump if she got a running start, but she’d have to keep her head low to avoid the ceiling.
Or, she might be able to skirt it, but those edges near the wall didn’t look very stable.
Go!
Okay, okay.
She peered through the hole. Quint was now near the stone altar, bending over. “I’ll be back,” she whispered, not sure if he could hear her.
She opted to ease around the hole in the floor, her pulse pounding the whole time. As soon as she was in the clear, she started running. The walls blurred in the red-lined tunnel as she sped along, taking care not to stumble along the way.
Minutes later, she shot out through the entrance and down the steps, sliding to a stop under the silvery moonlight.
“Pedro! Bronko! We need your help!”
Quint pressed back against the wall as far away from the dark tunnel as he could get, squatting low to blend in with the rocks and rubble that had crashed down with him.
He’d set his flashlight on the floor near the altar stone in the center of the chamber, aiming the beam toward the tunnel so he might be able to see what was coming before it saw him.
He tried to take some deep, even breaths to slow his heart.
Angélica was going to get Pedro and Bronko.
They’d be back soon with something to pull him out, of that he had no doubt.
There were plenty of branches on the ground thanks to the king vultures roosting around the ruins.
They might be able to lower one of those down to him and then work together to pull him out.
He just needed to stay alive until they made it back.
Click click click click.
Yeah, those were definitely long claws. Maybe it was something normal, like an alligator, or a jaguar. Terrifying, yes, but a good ol’ plain-Jane predator would be nice.
Skriiiitch.
That sounded like something scraping over stones.
Rocks clattered across the floor.
Quint stared into the mouth of the dark tunnel, watching high and low for any sign of movement.
A femur bone rolled out of the darkness, coming to rest a few feet from the altar stone.
He gulped, his mouth dry and dusty.
A rustling noise came next, like pieces of dry and brittle paper scratching along a concrete block wall.
Click click click … SCREECH!
Covering one ear with his free hand, Quint ducked lower, pulling in tighter. Sweat slicked his grip on the broken macuahuitl.
At the mouth of the tunnel, something glinted in the flashlight’s beam.
He pressed further back into the wall, steeling himself for what was about to join him.
A racket of flapping and hissing and screeching filled the stone-lined chamber, along with clicking and clacking and clattering.
He cringed. What the hell was coming?
Then there was a sudden quiet, broken only with short, raspy breaths.
Wait, those were his.
He gulped again, his gaze locked onto the macabre stage set before him, waiting for the villain to step out into his spotlight.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Click.
A creature eased out into the light. Several feet tall, its head was canine-like, with a long snout and pointy ears, black lips pulled back to show fangs glistening with long strings of foamy drool.
From the neck down, it was mostly bat—a huge one.
Partially folded wings with curved talons at the tips, muscular haunches, and extra-long claws on its front and hind feet.
It lowered down onto all fours and stalked slowly toward the altar, walking like a bear. Click click click.
Quint held tight to the handle of the macuahuitl. Maybe he could take the creature with the broken weapon. There were still a few blades on the part he had. If he could come up behind it and slice across its neck somehow. Or at least cut through one of the wings.
Movement behind the bat-beast drew Quint’s gaze.
A second big bat came out of the darkness, pausing just inside the spotlight.
Two of them!
Oh, he was fucked for sure now. Unless Angélica came back with his machete. Damn it, he should have had her toss down her blade before going for help.
The second bat lifted its snout, nostrils flexing as it sniffed the air. It pulled back its black lips and chittered, its fangs vibrating as it turned one way and then the other.
Shit. It was using echolocation to find any sign of movement. If he remembered right, many kinds of bats could see decently in the light, but they still used echolocation to zoom in on barriers and prey.
If he kept very still, maybe they wouldn’t notice him.
The first bat flap-hopped up onto the red stone altar.
Christ, those claws could tear clear through him.
Something hissed at the tunnel entrance.
His gaze shifted to it as a third bat stepped out, this one larger than the first two.
A fresh layer of sweat slicked him from head to toe.
It screeched at the others.
Quint winced. He didn’t dare move to cover his ears.
Several chirps came from the tunnel, along with more clicking. The first three bats turned to watch as a fourth crawled out.
Chills raced up and down his spine, flying clear to his fingertips and toes. Yep, he was so done. Game over. He should have told Angélica he loved her before she ran off to get help.
To get help … Oh, God! She was coming back with help! No! They needed to stay away.
His focus centered on the tunnel. Somehow he needed to get these four bastards to go back to where they came from. If he could just make it past them without tripping or getting snagged by one of their wing talons, he could rush headlong into the tunnel and they’d follow him.
But how far could he go before they caught him? And what if the tunnel was full of more huge bats? An army full?
Damn it, he had to do something before Angélica came back with Pedro and Bronko.
The whistling he’d heard earlier returned, coming down through the hole overhead. This time several notes played out, making rippling, melodic music.
The bats all looked up toward the sound. The one on the altar stone chittered.
The biggest of the four let out several high-pitched chirps, and then its wings extended. A great, fluttering and flapping commotion filled the chamber. As Quint huddled low, the four bats flew by him, screeching and chirping as they arrowed up and out of the chamber.
Quint stared after them, listening as their calls grew quieter.
They were leaving, heading outside.
Angélica!
“I think we have enough,” Angélica said, dragging one more long vine over to the pile that Bronko and Pedro had collected. “If we use a few of these at once, maybe make a loose braid, it should be strong enough to pull Quint out.”
Pedro slid his machete back into its sheath. “What are the chances of the floor caving in like that?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe when the wall shifted open, it caused something to fracture underneath.” She turned to Bronko, who was coiling the vines for ease in carrying. “Pedro said he gave you Quint’s machete.”
Bronko nodded. “It’s over next to the steps. I wanted it easy to grab if we had to rush in to help.”
“Okay. I’ll take it with us when we—”
A series of screeches and squeaks rang out from the bat-house.
She turned, shining her flashlight beam at the opening. “Did you guys hear …”
A creature that looked like a mix between a German shepherd and a bat flap-hopped out of the ruin, pausing at the top of the steps to look around.
Quint stacked the stones from the upper tunnel’s floor that had given way under him. How he’d managed not to get hurt in the fall was a wonder, but if he could pile the stones high enough, maybe he could climb up onto them and …
What?