Worrying again about losing her job?
Or is Juan right and she’s just pushing herself too hard?
Did she get bit by a bug?
What are the signs of Lyme disease?
Maybe I need to check her closer for ticks this evening when we return to …
“Hey, Parker, can you come over here?” Angélica called to him, waving him over to where she stood next to what Juan was now calling the “butterfly mound.”
Closing his field notebook, Quint stuffed it in his pack and stood up from the rock where he’d been enjoying a hot and sweaty break in the shade while Angélica, her father, and Fernel were inspecting the surrounding area. Pedro had tagged along with the other three to hear what the experts had to say and to see if his theory about the mound was spot-on—that it was a bunker with more spear tips, daggers, and other ancient weapons buried under the collapsed ceiling.
Quint joined Angélica at the entrance. “You want to take more pictures of something?”
She’d already borrowed his camera and crawled inside the mound, snapping shots to show her dad and to use for further analysis.
There wasn’t much to be seen beyond the altar, and Quint had taken pictures of that yesterday. The weight of the overlying earth and vegetation had caved in most of the interior. Only the stone-lined entrance remained structurally intact, which extended about five feet under the ground.
After checking out the pictures Angélica had taken from inside, it was clear to all of them that they’d need to spend a lot of time excavating in order to find out if it were a bunker like Pedro believed or the mouth of a cave or mine.
“No more pictures.” She pointed at the door slab. “I’d like your help lifting that. We need to close this up.”
“You’re not going to dig any deeper?”
“We don’t have the time or manpower for that on this trip.” She moved over next to the slab, squatting and grabbing the top right corner. “Ready on three?”
Together, they hefted the stone into place. Angélica packed the loose dirt from yesterday’s digging in front of the slab to help anchor it.
“There,” she said, brushing her hands off on her khaki pants. “You wrote down the interior dimensions I called out earlier, right?”
Quint nodded. She’d already checked on that, taking a look at his notes herself, so why was she asking again?
“Good. Then let’s move on.” She stepped to the side and called out, “Dad, are you guys ready to roll? We have a trail to clear.”
“Hold your horses,gatita. We have a couple more measurements I want to take.”
She scowled and pulled out her water. “Hurry it up. Daylight’s wasting.”
Quint crossed his arms and frowned down at her.
What in the hell was up with her? She’d been busting their balls to move faster all morning. Where was the fire?
“What?” she asked, her tone defensive. “It’s true. We’re limited on time and Dad is moving slower today thanks to that damned ankle.”
“That’s not why I’m giving you this frown right now.” Hepointed at his mouth.
She capped her water. “If it’s because of the machete work ahead of you, don’t worry, I figure you, me, and Pedro can work in shifts to give each other breaks.”
“I’m not worried about that.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for snakes.”
“It’s not about the potential for snake wrangling.”
She huffed. “Listen, Quint. If you want to head back to where the others are excavating the area around Structure II, you can switch places with Fernando and send him—”
“Stop.” He set down his pack. Grabbing her wrist, he tugged her away from the mound, back toward the cleared path, out of earshot of the others. “Tell me what’s going on, Angélica.”
