“What happened to you?” I asked.
Brandon’s hand went to his face. “Igor’s farewell gift.”
“Huh?”
“He quit working for these assholes, and they didn’t like it.” William leaned against the wall, balancing on his good foot.
“We all go. Andrew, lead the way, or I’ll shoot her.” Richard withdrew a gun and pointed it at me. For fuck’s sake, were they all armed? The muscles in my throat tightened, and I stepped back.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Andrew said.
“Now!” Richard yelled, his arm went up, and the gun fired with a deafening bang. I clenched my head and ducked, expecting the bullet to ricochet.
One of the ugly twins snorted and said something in Russian. The pungent smell of burnt sulfur tainted my scent. My heart pounded in my ribcage as I straightened and surveyed William, then Andrew. They didn’t seem to be hurt.
“You bloody imbecile!” Andrew shouted, his nostrils flaring.
“You need to take me seriously.” Dickhead motioned with the gun. “Which way?”
Muscles in Andrew’s jaw ticked, and he squared his shoulders. “I don’t know. Adriana is the only one who knows it.”
My mouth dropped open. “No. I don’t.”
“Yes, love, you do.” He inclined his head. “The path. You remember it, don’t you?”
Different thoughts sped like race cars: the Pérez family letters, Andrew’s journals, carvings in the Iglesia San Antonio undercroft, outside the vault, Augustine’s sketches. And then, at last, the file I made in Photoshop in which I’d combined the two strange drawings.
Sweat developed under my breasts. I could see it almost clearly, but it would be nice to look at it again. The phone was in my back pocket and my fingers itched to check it, but I resisted. These jackasses shouldn’t be made aware that we had a map. Well, sort of. We didn’t know the meaning of all the squiggly lines and markings. Those indications could mean anything. Right way. Wrong way. Dead end. Danger.
“Richard, I don’t trust whatever they’re doing.” Brie scowled at me.
My eyes cut to her. “Unlike you, not everything I do has an agenda.”
I went up to the passages. A cool breeze tugged on my loose strands of hair as I examined each gold statuette. The left one was a round-faced boy, sitting on his knees and cradling two birds in his hands. The other one looked like a kiwi bird picking grass at its feet. The Pérez family for sure was cuckoo for feathered creatures. Was this bird statue a symbol for anything? Upon closer examination, I noticed the bird’s beak pierced a snake.
If I had to make a wild guess, I’d say the kid was a safer choice. But what if their meanings were purposely counterintuitive? Seconds stretched as my eyes darted between the figurines. I took a shaky breath through my mouth.
“We go this way,” I said, gingerly stepping into the left tunnel, the flashlight beam quickly disappearing into the eerie darkness.
Everyone shadowed me: Andrew, Richard, and Brie, William wobbling after them, and Brandon following him. Tweedledee and Tweedledum trooped last. Gratitude that Brandon had decided to work against Dr. Dickhead, mixed with guilt at my failure to believe William about Brandon, twisted my stomach like it housed snakes. Or maybe it was anxiety about what would happen when we found the treasure. Would they let us go? Hurt us? Kill us? Cold sweat covered my forehead at that thought.
The path veered to the right and then went straight and appeared not to hold any danger, just an occasional cobweb. Nevertheless, I had seen enough movies to know negligence could kill me, so I watched where I stepped and paid attention to my surroundings for suspicious cracks or outlines with hidden traps.
A minute later, we piled into an ample circular space, its walls and ceiling lined with square stone blocks, a granite pedestal in the center, and four passages. On top of the stand was a golden statue of an anaconda twisted around a bearded man. His massive hands gripped its head as if he was choking it. Two red gemstones were in place of the snake’s eyes. By the expression on the man’s face, one could guess he was losing the battle. Was this a warning? A sign of a giant snake slithering in these caves? A shiver ran over me. I liked the bird statues much better.
I spun around the room, unable to remember a ring with four paths on the image. Needing to refresh my memory, I slowly skirted the pedestal and fished out my phone.
“What are you doing?” Brie asked, pushing her way to me.
I tilted the iPhone to my chest. “I want to take a photo of this. Isn’t it breathtaking?”
She narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t take photos of the first statues.”
“They weren’t that interesting.” I shrugged while my fingers glided over my screen, searching for the correct image. I found it and soaked up the details. There weren’t any circles. But there was a narrow passage—presumably the one we took—followed by a gap with a strikeout square in the center—the pedestal. Several millimeters above it were four routes.
Brie’s thin fingers latched onto my phone, and she yanked on it. My grip strengthened, lurching my hand out of her hold. She might have had bigger boobs and a toned body, but I was much stronger than she was, and our height difference benefitted me.
“Give it to me,” she commanded.