Who in the hell is Key-me?
Chapter Nine
A cache (pronounced “cash”) is a collection of goods found at a dig site. Caches often include ritually significant items that help to further understand the ancient Maya culture. The contents of a cache are considered different than “burial goods,” which are purposely left with the dead to help them succeed in the afterlife.
In the case of Site 5, any “caches” listed in the findings will be defined as having one or more objects that appear to have been left behind. It will be determined after further investigation on a per cache basis if the contents are an offering for the Maya gods, items set aside for storage purposes, or some other case; and whether the objects were left intentionally.
Cache A-1, Site 5, Calakmul Biosphere Reserve
—The items found are as follows (quantities will be noted later):
—Axe heads made of stone and obsidian
—Arrowheads made of obsidian
—Small knives and daggers made with bone and obsidian blades
—Spearpoints made of obsidian and chert
—3” obsidian blades most likely left over from several macwa…
It took a few beats of silence coming from Quint’s direction for Angélica to realize that he’d stopped reading aloud from his field notes.
She glanced his way to see if he had indeed keeled over from the heat, as he’d joked about earlier after helping Fernando clear the area around a cache of weapons Daisy had located.
Quint sat frowning at his field notes in the shade of a gumbo-limbo tree on a big chunk of limestone. From the shape of his impromptu seat, it appeared to have been part of the larger crumbling structure that they’d climbed down earlier upon entering Site 5. What that structure had been was yet to be determined, but it looked similar in height, overall size, and shape to the collapsing structure on the outside of the wall. Had the two been built to mirror each other first and then the wall was added and divided them? Or had they been built purposely on each side of the wall, and if so, to what end?
Angélica needed to keep looking around forstelae, or even just stones with glyph carvings that might help explain what used to be where they now stood. Or maybe she should just assign Daisy, their resident Maya artifact bloodhound, to the task.
She looked back down at the sketch she’d asked Daisy to draw, which showed the current layout of the contents in the cache. The woman’s talents were many, including drawing in addition to sniffing out hidden treasures.
According to Quint, Daisy had pretty much walked around the side of the structure and then called for him to come help her clear some of the vegetation with his machete, claiming she had a feeling there was something behind all the greenery.
Sure as shit, there’d been something back there. Tucked away behind the vines and palm fronds and thorny scrub brush, plus a tree or two, they’d found a small structure. A bit more work with Quint’s machete had revealed what seemed to be some kind of low-ceilinged storage room, about ten feet wide by twelve feet long.
The jungle had been doing its best to hide the small building, slowly chewing it up in order to swallow it down into the earth—much like what was happening at the rest of Site 5. All around her were a bunch of lumps hidden away beneath the vegetation. Angélica hadn’t seen a site so raw and untouched before. Her father hadclaimed the same while looking at the LIDAR map on Dr. Fernel’s tablet, groaning at just the idea of how much work needed to be done here before they could even start to piece together the history of the site.
She looked up from Daisy’s sketch at the small dilapidated structure. How much longer the rock walls could hold the weight of the large strangler fig resting partially on top of the ancient building was anyone’s guess. Her father had made everyone stand back while he inspected the structural integrity, finally giving the all-clear only after Fernando and Bronko had braced what was left of the ceiling with several chicle tree trunks.
Angélica still couldn’t believe Daisy’s luck at finding a cache full of weapons right out of the gate. Well, make that what was left of the weapons, thanks to time and Mother Nature tag-teaming on the artifacts. Unfortunately, the side of the stone-walled room that had been overtaken by the strangler fig tree had a caved-in ceiling. Water had found its way inside through every available crack, as water tended to do, and done a fine job of rotting and disintegrating whatever it could. As most Maya weapons were made of wood or natural fibers—spear shafts, axe handles, the bindings on knives and daggers, bows and arrow shafts, and the handle ofmacuahuitl—all that was left in the cache were the hard, stone parts.
Quint was still silent.
Angélica looked his way again, wondering what was up. When he continued to sit unmoving, frowning down at the notes he was taking on her behalf, she started in his direction, stepping carefully through the exposed tree roots and rubble. She didn’t need a sprained ankle this early in the game. Especially not at a site this untamed.
“You okay, Parker?”
Even his smile looked hot and tired, melting at the edges. He wiped his face with his shirt sleeve. “Well, I could use a cold beer.”
So could she. Today was a cooker.
Angélica dropped onto the rock next to him, fanning herself with her sunhat. “Put it on my tab.”
“That’s supposed to be my line, bartender.”
“No, your line is: ‘I’m searching for treasure, can I check out your chest?’ At least, that was your pickup line when you joined meon the beach last time.”
He chuckled, his gaze dipping south. “You can’t blame a guy for trying to plunder some hot booty.”
