“I used to work at that every day,” Bronko told him. “It’s easier to achieve now, and I’ve come to appreciate the small things, like sunrises and good cigars.” He snorted. “At least it was easier before I came to work at this dig site.”
Quint stared at the sicario for a couple of beats. Bronko must be feeling nervous. He was speaking in complete sentences, and multiple ones at that.
“What’s the plan?” Quint asked Angélica, who’d had her head together with KuTu’s for the last few minutes.
“He wants us to go inside,” she answered.
Of course he did. That place was one long death trap just waiting to cave in on some unlucky sucker.
“That’s going to be a tight fit. Maybe we should just lean in and call out Fernel’s name a few times,” Quint suggested.
“When I say ‘us,’ that doesn’t include Pedro and Bronko.” She turned to Pedro. “You two need to wait outside in caseCamazotzmobilizes his army of bats.”
Pedro scoffed. “And do what? Throw rotten papayas at them as they fly at us with their sharp fangs and talons?”
“I don’t know, Pedro,” she answered, sounding exasperated. “KuTu thinks you two have a good chance at keeping the army in check thanks to your regiment perched in the trees.”
“He thinks the birds are going to save us?” Pedro asked.
“I guess.”
“If we die, at least we won’t be left to rot,” Bronko said, back to counting vultures.
Quint grimaced. “Damn, you go dark fast.”
He shrugged. “It comes with the job.”
“Anyway,” Angélica said, latching onto Quint’s wrist. “We’ll follow KuTu inside and see if we can find Dr. Fernel. You two take a look around out here under the trees. Maybe he’s just sitting on a rock somewhere, moon bathing, admiring the stars.”
Quint smirked. “Now you decide to be a comedian?”
“Yeah, you know, try to be the ray of sunshine in the dark of night and all that positive shit, right?” She sniffed. “Oh, and here’s a quote you can include in your article, Mr. Big-time Photojournalist.”
“Who says I’m going to live long enough to write the piece?” Quint interrupted.
“I do.” Her grip tightened on his wrist.
She might not have a choice. “What’s your quote?”
“What did one hot banana say to the other?”
He winced in anticipation. “Don’t say it.”
“What?” Pedro took the bait.
“Let’s peel out, baby.” She grinned. “Quote-unquote.”
“Boo,” Pedro said. “Bronko, shoot her.”
Quint groaned. “That quote seems slippery.”
Bronko chuckled. “I like you, Dr. Angélica.” His gaze shifted to Quint. “Don’t let anything happen to her,SeñorDemon.”
“I’ll give it my best sacrifice,” Quint said. “You try not to shoot any of my vulture buddies.”
Angélica tugged on his wrist. “Enough chit-chatting now. KuTu is waiting for us at the steps.”
“Wait.” Quint pulled out his machete and held it toward Pedro, handle first. “Take this. If anything does come out, you might need two blades at once.”
