Grimacing, Angélica turned aside. When it came to her crew, there were some details she didn’t need to know.
“But I do like to wear pants,” Bronko added.
“We should thank the Maya gods for that,” Pedro said.
Angélica shushed them all. “This isn’t a Three Stooges movie, you guys. It’s a manhunt.”
She aimed her beam up the trail in front of her. Where had KuTu gone, dammit? The guard moved through the jungle like a jaguar—sure-footed with stealth and grace.
“It’s not really a hunt, is it?” Quint whispered. “More like a man-search.”
Bronko scoffed. “If we were hunting a man, I’d have brought my other gun.” He sounded dead serious about that, same as his choice to go commando under his pants.
That was another detail Angélica would like to throw out.
“I thought we were hunting a man-bat,” Pedro said.
Quint tapped her on the shoulder. “If we make it out of this with all our pieces and parts still intact, remind me not to get on Bronko’s bad side.”
“There is no ‘if’ about it, Parker.” She looked back at him. “We’re going to find Dr. Fernel, drag him back over that wall if we have to, and ship him out on the helicopter tomorrow. This dig site game is over.” She just hoped it wasn’t one damned day too late.
She held up her hand to silence any more chatter, listening for a sound—any sound—from the surrounding forest. But all was silent under the canopy, same as it had been since they’d climbed over the wall.
It was as if the jungle was holding its musty breath, watching them creep along, waiting to see what happened next.
Or maybe her paranoia had taken the helm.
Either way, she hoped to hell Dr. Fernel hadn’t done anything really stupid, like try to charm a pit viper with that bone whistle of his.
Or woo a death-bat from the Maya Underworld.
Fuck. Between Quint’s spooky voice and KuTu’s tale of old, she was having trouble keeping her head on her shoulders tonight.
Camazotz might rip your head off if you’re not careful.
Okay, that was enough ghost story bullshit from her mental demons hanging around the fire at Camp Freakout. The mission was simple—find the archaeologist, chew him out for putting others in danger for no logical reason, and kick him off her dig site for good.
“Come on.” Angélica started up the trail again, leading with her beam of light. “KuTu is in a hurry.”
You meanKingKuTu.
As she watched for snakes on the path, bits of KuTu’s story replayed in her thoughts. The rational left side of her brain insisted there was no way he could be a reincarnated king of old. That the guy must have spent too much time in the heat.
Yet he’d been so earnest. As he’d woven his story, the pain etched on his face had been so vivid, the sorrow in his voice heart wrenching.
If this were all true … this eternity of repeated loneliness and suffering at the expense of his son’s life … and his whole family … over and over and over. She sighed. Such a harsh punishment to pay for a moment of greed.
But her left brain still leaned into him being delusional.
It was possible that he’d been at this site before. He might have been a looter years ago, searching the area for ancient artifacts to sell on the black market. While here, he tripped, hit his head, developed long-term amnesia, and came up with this wild tale that he believed with all his heart.
Of the two scenarios, she was really pulling for the latter. Otherwise, this search and recovery operation could take a deadly turn when they reached the bat-house, not to mention what it might do to her currently slipping grip on her own sanity.
They caught up with KuTu at the butterfly mound, but only because he had paused to wait, standing with his back to them.
As Angélica neared, he turned. She stopped short, gasping at the sight of his face covered with wide smears of light green paint. When had he done that? Upon a longer look, she realized it was closer to the color of … jade.
Oh, hell. He’d painted on a death mask, like those found on the remains of royalty in Maya tombs that were often made of actual jade. The masks were supposed to protect the dead on their journey throughXibalbato the afterlife.
