“What makes you think the tunnel would come out inside of Structure I?” Quint asked Juan. “Have you seen a similar setup at a different site?”
Juan shook his head. “Not exactly, but we’ve found tunnels at sites that lead down into temples, and a few that connect to other structures. Some believe tunnels were used as a means of escape for the monarchy and nobles during times of war. Other historians are of the opinion that they are simply walkways between structures possibly used by temple workers or shaman. Maybe even for prisoner movement during sacrificial ceremonies or rituals.” He tapped his finger on the table. “With this site and that immense wall, which most likely was used for fortification purposes, common sense dictates that any access to the tunnel outside of the enclosed site would be safest if located inside of Structure I, where it could be easily guarded.”
“You’re assuming this site has a history of warfare?” Pedro asked, frowning at Juan, same as was Angélica.
Juan nodded. “What other purpose could the wall have?”
“That’s an unproven hypothesis, Dad. It’s also short sighted. We don’t know what happened at this site or its purpose when it was in use. This could have been a sacred site, as Mom theorized, and the wall was there to guard the high priests from being accessible to everyday people. A wall like that would evoke a feeling of awe and reverence, adding to the mystique of whomever resided on the inside.”
“You’re thinking it could be just for looks?” Quint clarified while wiping his hands on a napkin.
She shrugged. “All I’m saying is that until we find somestelaeor altar stones with glyph carvings that give us some clues what the Maya were up to here, it’s hasty to make assumptions.”
“I still think you’re wasting manpower on this tunnel,” Juan said, standing up from the table. “But you’re the boss,gatita, so we’ll do it your way.”
Fernel hadn’t weighed in with an opinion, because he’d taken his coffee and plate of food back to his tent, telling Angélica he’d join them at the site as soon as he was ready. According to Juan, Fernel was working on entering the additional data points he’d collected yesterday to his LIDAR software in order to deliver a thorough real-time map for more fruitful excavation work.
Now, six hours and a lunch break later, Quint stared at what remained of Structure I. Officially, all of the pieces were still there,but right now it just looked like a gluttonous giant hippo had plopped down on the building and partially flattened it.
He took a sip of warm water, swishing it around in his mouth. A cold beer would be nice, but he’d be happy to settle for a warm one later this evening, if Pedro was willing to part with some of his hidden stash. Quint wasn’t above bribery, or even blackmail, if that was what it took.
He’d spent part of the morning helping Pedro and Bronko beat back the jungle, per the boss lady’s wishes. The other part had been spent organizing some of the rubble remains while Juan played supervisor and teacher, explaining about the process used for carving the limestone blocks without state-of-the-art tools.
As Angélica had said the first day they’d come across Structure I, there was clear evidence that it had sat up on a high platform. Juan confirmed as much during his morning lesson. On the far side of the building were the broken remains of fifteen or so narrow steps leading up to what must have been a somewhat enclosed building at the top with walls that had lost the fight with Mother Nature long ago.
Under Juan’s direction, Bronko had carefully climbed the steps on all fours, trying not to knock down any more loose stones. From the top, he’d confirmed that the height of the building allowed him to see over some of the lower canopy and brush and to visually follow thesacbefor a distance. If the Maya had cleared the forest in the area during their time, there would have been no problem seeing any travelers coming up the road. Bronko had also told them he was almost level with the top of the wall on this side, which meant that if someone were to have stood on the roof of Structure I before it had collapsed in on itself, they could have seen over the wall into the interior of Site 5.
When Quint had asked Juan what that might mean in the grand scheme of the overall purpose of not only Structure I, but also this site in general, Juan hadn’t had an answer for him. Instead, he’d shaken his head and muttered something about his daughter not wanting him to make more false assumptions without further investigation and analysis. Then he’d left Quint to see how his daughter, Raul, and Daisy were managing with the cache excavation.
Meanwhile, on the inside of the wall, Fernando and KuTu werestill clearing the area near Structure II and the stairway leading down into the ground. Juan had reported around mid-morning that they’d made it to the bottom of the stairwell only to find it completely obstructed with chunks of limestone large and small that appeared to have been roughly piled up—a blockade, with only narrow cracks to peer through. Unfortunately, their flashlights hadn’t been able to pierce the darkness beyond, which meant at some point, and probably soon, Angélica would want to dismantle that obstruction and find out what awaited them on the other side.
Quint took another sip of water, turning to look at the wall. A short distance away, the pile of skulls remained in front of it, untouched by all per Angélica’s orders, with empty eye sockets staring back at him. The ancestors were not easily parting with their secrets about this site—at least not yet, anyway. But Quint doubted Angélica would give up the hunt for answers without a thorough dig, which meant that he needed to get used to sweating his ass off for a good long time, dammit.
If only they’d left on vacation one day sooner.
Who was he trying to kid? No matter where they’d been in the world, one call from her boss at INAH about this site and Angélica would have wanted to hop on a plane and get back here. Although it turned out that beating Fernel to the punch hadn’t really mattered.
It could have been fun, just the two of them. No snakes to watch for with every step. No father sharing a room with them each night. No ticks to pick off nightly or creepy worms falling out of trees. No lies between them.
But here he stood in this goddamned jungle staring at a pile of skulls. Sighing, he wiped away the bead of sweat trailing down his forehead before it could run into his eye.
Oh well, lies had been told and decisions made. For now, he needed to focus on helping Angélica while trying to be a good little worker demon.
Quint glanced up at the trio of keel-billed toucans croaking in a nearby ceiba tree. This place was a gold mine for a photojournalist, that was for sure. He could think of at least five different publications that would be interested in fresh news from the jungle frontlines, in addition to the extensive piece INAH had hired him to write. From magazines that focused on outdoor adventures tophoto-heavy journals showing colorful wildlife and butterflies, there were plenty of opportunities to make some extra cash when it was all said and done. Instead of spending money on the lavish vacation he’d planned, he would be making more cash to stow away for the future, so not all was a waste.
He turned back to the cache findings. So many weapons.
What the hell had been going on at this place? Was it some sort of long-term ammunitions storage area, like Hawthorne Army Depot in the Nevada boonies? Oh, there was another possible article—a piece on weapons, Maya warriors, and how guerrilla warfare has changed. Maybe he could find someone who knew how to make amacuahuitland write about the process. Or he could test amacuahuitllined with obsidian blades versus modern-day steel to see which did more damage.
The sound of footfalls approaching from behind made Quint turn … and then laugh.
Angélica looked like she’d stepped into the ring with a dust devil and taken a knock-out punch. A layer of dirt powdered her braided hair, face, camp shirt, and cargo pants.
“What happened to you?” he asked, searching for a clean spot.
After they’d returned from taking a lunch break back at the camp, she’d headed over the wall to check on Fernel and Esteban, the newest crew member to join them. Although Esteban wasn’t really new. He’d been part of Angélica’s regular crew for years.
Pedro had flown Esteban in yesterday afternoon on his return from Cancun with more “supplies”—apparently his supply list had included the human kind. Quint was glad for the extra help, especially since Esteban was not only energetic, but also experienced on dig sites. Not to mention trustworthy as hell, although a little klutzy. The young Maya had been extremely loyal to Angélica and Juan ever since they’d added him to their crew to help him support his family after his father no longer could.
