“You’re supposed to take me, asshole,” Quint told it.
“No!” Angélica said, stepping closer to the hole. “KuTu wanted this. Take him. He needs to be freed from the cycle.” She looked at the guard, saying something in Mayan.
The creature turned its head toward her, sniffing the air. Then it looked back at Quint and growled again.
“Yes,” Fernel cried. “Take either of them. I changed my mind.I don’t want to die!”
“You not wanting to ever die is what got us into this mess in the first place, you idiot,” Angélica told him. “Humans shouldn’t live forever.”
Fernel whimpered.
The creature shifted its focus back on the man clutched in its claws. It hunched over him, its wings spreading enough to wrap around Fernel from the neck down, cocooning him. From where he stood, Quint saw a long, black tongue slide out and wrap around Fernel’s throat.
The man began to gasp for air, his eyes wide and bulging, his face turning pale and then gray.
The creature leaned even closer to Fernel’s face and breathed in, its whole body shuddering for a couple of seconds. Then its tongue retracted and it stepped back, letting Fernel drop to the floor, his body limp, lifeless.
Christ. It had all happened so quickly.
Quint shook off his shock and rushed the creature, the dagger raised and ready to slice its wing.
KuTu shouted, “No!’
The creature whirled toward Quint. It reached toward him with lightning speed, catching Quint’s wrist mid-swing. Its grip was strong, tight, bruising.
It looked down at Quint’s arm where KuTu had sliced him open, snarling out what sounded like, “Xtaaaa-bay.”
Quint looked down, too. The cut was mostly healed, nothing more than a white scar now amidst the drying blood. He’d always mended relatively quick throughout his life, but he only healed this unnaturally fast when injured by a non-human. Did that mean KuTu wasn’t …
Blood!
If this creature were from the same place as the one at the last dig site, then maybe …
Quint tightened his left hand into a fist, feeling the slick mix of sweat and his own blood on his palm. Then he reached out and rubbed his bloody palm down the side of the death-bat’s face.
The creature reared back, letting out a deafening screech.
Shoving Quint aside, it rushed toward the hole in the floor,dropping through and out of sight. Rocks clattered below. The screeching continued, but grew fainter. Soon, all was quiet, except for the throb of Quint’s own heartbeat in his ears.
“Holy fuck,” he said, looking at Angélica.
She was squatting next to the hole, shining her light into the darkness below. “I don’t see it.”
“It must have run back into the tunnel down there.”
KuTu grunted, rubbing his hand down his face. He said something in Mayan to Angélica, pointing toward where Fernel lay, motionless, his back to them.
She frowned at Quint. “He said that death is necessary before there can be a rebirth, and that sacrifice is essential for all life.”
Quint stared at the dead man. “So, it sounds like Fernel is definitely dead then.” He sighed. “We’re going to have to lift his body over that hole and out of here.”
“I know.”
“And come up with a logical explanation for the rest of the world about how he died.”
“Yeah.” She shook her head, sitting back on her heels. “What the hell was that? It can’t really have been the greatCamazotz, can it? He was a myth. I mean, how long has it—”
A gasp for breath came from Fernel’s direction, followed by another gasp and several coughs. His shoulders moved, and then he rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He blinked a few times before sitting upright.
