Hunters of Chaos (13 page)

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Authors: Crystal Velasquez

BOOK: Hunters of Chaos
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“Wow,” Jason said when we had finished and were putting the equipment away. “You're really good. I mean,
really
good. Are you sure you've never played before?”

“Never, I swear.” The truth was, my prowess at lacrosse came as a shock. I had been okay in sports back home, but something felt like it had shifted in my body over the past week. I felt more coordinated, more agile.

“I guess you're just a natural,” Jason said, giving me a look of genuine admiration. “This is the best practice I've had in years! So thank you.”

“Anytime,” I replied, feeling proud of my newfound abilities.

We started walking back toward the dorm when he stopped suddenly and said, “Hey, I found something I wanted to show you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a copper coin that looked centuries old. “I found it at the Anasazi temple.”

“What?” I exclaimed. “Jason, you can't do that! This coin is part of an official archaeological dig. You shouldn't be taking things from there.”

“Would you just look at it?” he pleaded. “Once you do, you'll see why I took it.”

I hesitated, not wanting to touch the stolen goods, but my curiosity got the better of me. I held out my hand and he dropped the coin into my palm. It was a small copper coin, about an inch wide, the edges worn away like the heel of an old shoe.

“See here?” Jason said, pointing to some writing on the back. “I can't make out what it says, but I'm almost positive that's Latin. And see the face on the other side? The man has some kind of wreath on his head. I think this coin is from Ancient Rome!”

I took it between my thumb and index finger and held it up to the light. Jason was right. It did look like a Roman coin. “But that doesn't make any sense,” I told him. “The Anasazi didn't know the Romans existed, or vice versa. The only way this coin could have ended up at the Anasazi temple is if . . . Oh, wow. Maybe they
did
know about each other.”

Jason nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe. But there is another possibility.” After a pause he said, “What if the Anasazi temple isn't really Anasazi at all?”

The thought blew my mind. “But . . . but they were so sure.”

“People make mistakes,” Jason said.

I handed him back the coin. “We have to go talk to Dr. Logan about this. He'll know what it means.” When I noticed Jason bristle at the mention of the archaeologist's name, I paused. “What's the problem?”

Jason shuffled his feet. “I don't know,” he mumbled. “I get a weird vibe from the guy. I think we should ask someone else. . . .”

“Like whom?” I said, baffled by his response. “Dr. Logan's a world-renowned archaeologist who knows a lot about ancient civilizations, and you found the coin on the site his team is excavating. If he can't help us, who can?”

Jason slipped the coin back into his pocket. “Fine. But I want it on the record that I think the guy is a little weird.”

I sighed. “Noted. But, Jason, we don't have a lot of options here. I think Dr. Logan is a nice guy who can help us figure this out. Now let's go!”

It took us a while to track Dr. Logan down at his temporary office in the History Department. And once we got there, Jason seemed even more unnerved.

“Relax, Jason. I talked to him just a couple of days ago. He's really nice. You'll see.”

I knocked on the door.

“Enter!” Dr. Logan called from inside.

I twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open. Dr. Logan was sitting at a large oak desk with papers and markers strewn all over it. He had a pen nested behind his ear and was busily tagging points on a large map with thumbtacks.

“Hi, Dr. Logan. I hope we aren't bothering you,” I said.

He looked up and smiled pleasantly, flashing those extra-white teeth. “Miss Cetzal. What a nice surprise. And Mr. Ferris, always a pleasure.”

“Mm,” Jason grunted.

“Please, excuse the mess. I'm tracing the origins of various artifacts to study migration patterns of ancient peoples and how it has affected lifestyle and language development across different hemispheres. It's a fascinating study. I hope to incorporate my findings into the work being done on the Anasazi temple. But never mind all that. What brings you to my office today?”

When Jason remained silent, I took the lead. “Well, it's about the temple, actually. We—I mean, Jason found something, and we were hoping you could tell us what it is.”

“Of course,” Dr. Logan said. “What did you find?”

I nudged Jason's arm and wagged my head at Dr. Logan. “Go on. Show him the coin,” I said.

Jason sighed and pulled the coin out of his pocket once more. He handed it over to Dr. Logan, who seemed taken aback. “Remarkable!” he said, turning the coin over in his hand. “Where did you say you found this?”

“We didn't say,” Jason muttered.

“He found it near the Anasazi temple, which seemed weird since the coin looks like it's Roman, and—”

“Oh, thank goodness you found my coin!” Dr. Logan interrupted.

Jason knitted his brows. “
Your
coin?”

Dr. Logan rose from his desk and shoved the coin into his own pocket. He then walked over to us, put one hand on each of our shoulders and guided us toward the door. “Yes, my coin,” he repeated. “I must have dropped it while I was working at the site. I'm always carrying small items like that around with me in my pockets—coins, keys, et cetera—and sometimes one of them escapes.” He laughed, but it sounded wooden and forced.

“You carry ancient Roman coins around in your pockets?” I asked, finding that hard to believe.

A hint of annoyance flashed across his face, but it was gone in an instant. “It's actually not that rare,” he offered. “I carry it for luck—it's silly but we all have our little superstitions! Anyway, thank you so much for stopping by to return it. But I really should be getting back to work now. Good day.”

With that, he practically shoved us into the hallway. As soon as we left the building, Jason turned to me. “
Weird,
right? Now do you see why I didn't want to come to him? Did you notice how surprised he looked when we first showed him the coin?”

I nodded slowly, thinking this over. Jason's eyes widened. “Then as soon as I say where I found it, suddenly he claims it's his? If it was such a prized possession, how come he didn't recognize it? And could he have pushed us out of his office any faster? I knew there was something super weird about that guy; I just couldn't put my finger on it. But now I think I know what it is: He's a liar.”

“If he's lying about the coin being his, then he's a thief, too,” I added. I started up the path toward the dorms, and Jason fell into step beside me. “I'm sorry for insisting on going to him. You were right. Something's definitely fishy about him. Maybe we should tell your mom what happened.”

Jason gave his head a quick shake. “I don't think so. She's been spending all this time with him, and when he's not around, she talks about him nonstop.
Dr. Logan this, Dr. Logan that.
I think she's half in love with him.”

Ah,
I thought. No wonder Jason seemed to dislike Dr. Logan even before we found out he was a liar and a thief. “What about your dad?” I asked.

“What about him?” Jason shrugged. “My parents got divorced three years ago. He's already remarried and living in Colorado.”

“Wow. That must be hard on you.”

“It's not so bad. I visit, especially over the summer, and his new wife is okay. I mostly worry about my mom, you know? I don't want her to be lonely. That's why I chose to go to Temple instead of some other school. If my dad wasn't going to be around to look out for Mom, I figured I should. Are your mom and dad still together?” he asked.

I debated telling him. Once you tell people you're an orphan, that becomes your whole story. And I wanted Jason to know there was more to me than that. But he had told me some pretty personal stuff, and it seemed only fair that I share something with him too. “Technically, yes, they're together,” I said. “But only because they both passed away when I was little.”

Jason slowed his pace, looking down at his sneakers as he let his arm graze mine. Goose bumps raced along my skin. “I'm really sorry,” he said.

I nodded at my shoes, watching them as they padded alongside Jason's as if they, too, were having a private conversation. “Thanks,” I said finally. “But it's really okay. I live with my aunt and uncle now. They're still together and so in love it's almost gross.” I gave Jason a smile, letting him know it was all right for him to smile too. This orphan story had as happy an ending as anyone could hope for.

I saw his lips curl up the tiniest bit. “Sounds like you have a really good home to go back to.”

“I do. I just wish things were as good here.”

Jason cast a concerned glance my way. “What do you mean?”

In brief, I told him about everything that had happened with Nicole and all the tension that had built up between her and her group, and me and mine—though I wasn't sure which team Lin was on just yet. She hated me one day and was okay with me the next. “Everybody's so different from my friends back home, especially Nicole. I just don't know if I'll ever fit with them.”

Jason considered my words for a moment and then said, “Why would you want to? Truthfully, I've never liked Nicole; she just seems so fake and shallow. All she talks about is money and clothes and what mean gossip she can spread about someone else. She sets my teeth on edge. If you did fit in with her and her friends, I doubt
we
would be friends.”

A warm feeling spread through my chest when he said we were friends. “Are you a good judge of character?” I asked.

“I haven't been wrong yet.”

“So what do you think of Doli and Shani? Nicole told me to stay away from Doli, but she wouldn't explain why. What do you think?” We had just reached my dorm. I could see lights coming on in various windows as the sun began to fade into the horizon.

“Nicole's just jealous. Doli is nice, and so is Shani. A few months back I dropped my smartphone in the fountain and Shani fixed it for me in three minutes flat. She's cool.” I panicked a little when he said that. Did he
like
Shani, like Shani? But then he turned to me and smiled shyly. “You seem cool too.
Really
cool.” He reached down and squeezed my hand.

“Good night, Ana,” he said, and walked on toward his home. Only when he disappeared around a bend in the path did I remember how to breathe.

chapter 12

A
FEW DAYS LATER THE
school buzzed with activity. Principal Ferris had made it clear at morning assembly that she wanted everything to run like clockwork for the exhibition. So naturally everything was a mess. A storm had blown in that morning, making the school's lights flicker on and off, as if we were in a horror movie. Thanks to the rain, the temple itself was off limits, but plenty of people showed up anyway to see the artifacts that had been pulled from the site, along with the class projects about the Anasazi and the rest of the pieces in the Temple Museum, which was open to the public for the day. In fact, so many people had shown up that everyone in Ms. Benitez's history class had been called to the museum to serve as volunteers.

Nicole and her friends looked miserable, of course. They were manning the coat-check room, and griping about it every step of the way. All they had to do was take the guest's jacket and umbrella and hand the person a ticket, but Nicole moaned each time, like she'd been forced to do hard labor. I could hear her muttering from all the way across the room.

I, on the other hand, was in heaven. My job was to hand out brochures, while Shani and Doli acted as hostesses, welcoming guests and directing them through the exhibit. It felt so good to be around normal people again—my kind of normal, anyway. I was surrounded by average families dressed in basic cotton and denim, some of them pushing strollers or toting kids in Elmo T-shirts. Some had on costume jewelry and smelled of drugstore perfume. I couldn't have been happier. These were not the kind of folks who had private jets in their backyards or Roberto Cavalli on speed dial. In short, they were my people.

When I'd finished handing out all the brochures, I looked around to find Doli and saw that she, too, had found her people—literally. She was standing near the doorway talking to what looked like a group of Native Americans. Like Doli, they had dark wavy hair and catlike eyes. I hurried to her side.

“Is this your family?” I asked her.

Doli smiled. “No, my parents had to work tonight. But this family does live on the reservation.”

I was so excited to meet someone from Doli's world back home. I turned to the woman nearest me. “Hello, it's nice to meet you.”

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