We returned to the kitchen for a quick bite of boiled eggs and avocado. While we ate, Hunter described more of his grandfather’s fruitless treasure quests. After a short break we ventured further into the jungle, where lush greenery blocked out the sun, crafting cooler air around me, as our path ascended. We were at the foot of the hill with the highest peaks when the sound of rushing water mixed with my heavy breathing. Hunter showed me a carving on a bare wall, which he discovered soon after Edward’s passing. It was a pirate ship drawing that could have been left by John Keating or Captain William Thompson. The mark theoretically matched the one found on Cocos Island, per a Wikipedia printout he had in his journal.
“It must mean this area is important.” I ran my fingers over the grooves engraved into the stone. It was mind-blowing that two hundred years ago someone stood where my feet were and etched this image with their dagger. Maybe it was the pirate’s way to say, “I was here.”
“In a second you can decide for yourself,” Hunter said and slid between two stones blanketed with soft green moss. I followed him around the bend and found myself in a place that looked like it had been ripped out of a storybook.
Enclosed by a mountain, a cascading low waterfall flowed through a tremendous arched opening, spilling into a small pond. A hundred feet above us, tropical flora surrounded the aperture to the blue sky. Past the arched gate, a giant, gnarled tree grew in the center, its snake-like roots twisted and spread out, reaching into the water. The tree’s meaty branches grew outward toward the sky, creating a vast canopy that cast us into a shadow, where some of its thinner branches dripped down, brushing the ground.
“This is amazing,” I breathed, gazing at the green Gulliver.
“It is something, isn’t it?” Hunter walked past me. “There is nothing like this anywhere else on this island.”
“How big is it?”
“At least six feet in diameter.”
I made a low whistle. “It’s the perfect place for it. There’s enough daylight and water, and the tree has protection from strong winds. It must be so old. I bet it was already here when what’s-his-name’s skeleton wandered around searching for treasure.”
“Probably.”
Hunter first climbed the slippery rocks up the stream, then held out his hand to help me. Pushing hanging vines out of our way, we curved around the trunk, my fingers brushing reverently along the mammoth’s bark. On this side of the tree the space darkened, as if rain clouds had gathered above, but when I craned my neck to look up, the sky was still blue. Before us, a ravine ripped the mountain apart, and to our left, the wall held two large circular cavities, ten or so feet high, with a dark aperture at the bottom.
“If I were a pirate, this would be where I’d hide my stuff. It’s far from the shore and not easy to reach through the jungle,” I said, standing in the middle of the spacious, ghoulish area.
Hunter walked past the murky entrance, and I followed him but stopped by the cave.
“Did you check inside?”
He nodded. “Yes. It’s empty.”
I stepped one foot deep and sang, in my very best Adele voice, “Hellooooo…”
My word echoed into the cave’s depths, and an odd noise drifted back, accompanied by a squealing sound. My eyes fixed on the darkness, my body tense. A bat swooped past my head, followed by another grazing my hair, and suddenly dozens of black flying creatures rushed out.
“Shit!” I shrieked and flapped my arms in the air, hitting some of them by accident. Gross.
Hunter grabbed my forearm, and we ducked to the opposite side. We were jammed into a small corner, crouching, Hunter’s broad frame folded over me, shielding me from the outside elements, his chest to my back, his arms around my shoulders.
“You said it was empty,” I hissed.
“I meant there is no booty,” he said, his hot breath on my neck.
Talking aboutbooty. Mine was firmly pressed into Hunter’s manhood terrain. And now I was hyperaware of Hunter’s breathing, his face in my hair—I hoped it smelled borderline clean. My temperature rose a few degrees, and I shivered.
“Are you scared?” Hunter whispered, tightening his strong arms around me.
“No, but I’ll have nightmares now about them eating me alive,” I said in a low voice as if we were playing hide and seek with the flying creatures.
“I don’t think bats can eat you.” His voice caressed my ear, and I shivered again.
The squeaking noise died out, but we stayed sandwiched, neither of us moving. As much as I hated to admit it, I enjoyed Hunter’s closeness. Something about him using his body to protect me felt gratifying.
“I think they’re gone.” Hunter released his embrace and leaned away, robbing me of his heat. “It’s safe to continue.” Hebacked away and carefully directed me from under a low-hanging boulder I hadn’t noticed earlier.
“Where did they go?” I asked, whipping my head to the left, to the right, then up.
“Not sure. Maybe back into the cave.”
“If we find out that the treasure is in there”—I pointed at the dark entrance—“you’re going inside alone.”
