The Mayan Priest (18 page)

‘If only you had given me the opportunity years ago, you may never have needed to wait,’ chastised Peter.

‘You know me, Uncle.’

‘Yes … only too well. You’ve always been afraid of the unknown, of discovering something that may make you face your emotions and upset the little bubble of security you’ve created for yourself.’

Dale frowned and lowered his head. Peter was right, but he was not in the mood for this discussion today. He eyed his uncle thoughtfully and beseechingly.

‘Okay, I’ll do the hypnosis for you,’ Peter conceded as his heavy eyelids blinked disapprovingly, ‘but if I see any stress from Reynata, I’ll have to stop.’

Dale noted the anxiety on Peter’s face.

‘Don’t worry, old man. I trust you,’ his comments sounding a little more sarcastic than he had meant. He was thankful Peter continued on as if he had not heard and responded without malice.

‘The body might not be the best, but the brain is as active as ever,’ commented Peter.

Dale pushed the swinging doors and re-entered the kitchen. Reynata was seated at the bench consuming a mouthful of bread, but the nervous twitch in her eye and shaking of her hands exposed her true feelings. Peter would have to tread carefully.

Peter led the way through the door to the left of the kitchen and into a comfortable sitting room. The small room was furnished sparsely with a large fireplace, two recliners, a couple of stools and one small sofa. The walls were wallpapered in an old floral design and an aged musty smell filtered throughout the room. To either side of the fireplace was a large book shelf that contained Peter’s prized collection of rare religious manuscripts.

Reynata chose a comfortable position on one of the recliners and Peter placed himself on a stool opposite her. Dale sat on the other recliner and watched intently as Peter instructed Reynata to concentrate. He sincerely hoped this would be successful.

Peter produced his small pocket watch which hung eloquently on a long gold chain. It had been handed down to him by his father, Dale’s grandfather, and was one of the few items of value he owned. He treasured it and carried it with him always.

Peter asked Reynata to relax and concentrate on his swinging pendulum. She complied without fear and it was only a matter of moments before her eyes glazed over and there was a lack of pupillary reflex.

‘She’s ready,’ whispered Peter as he began asking her a series of basic questions such as where she lived, what food she liked and how old she was. Peter then gradually progressed back through the years until he reached the time she had come out of a coma. Up until then, her answers had been forthright and honest. There was no note of tension in her voice and her expression was happy and relaxed.

‘Reynata, you have just come out of a coma, but I want you to go back further. I need you to tell me what you were doing just before you fell asleep.’

Reynata did not respond for a moment, but her relaxed demeanour gradually began altering as her mind searched for the long lost memory. Gentleness transformed to fear and her body grew rigid in the chair. A deep blush ran from ear to ear and her hands shook uncontrollably. Dale wanted to go to her, but Peter ordered him back.

‘I’ll bring her back if it becomes too difficult,’ said Peter.

‘What do you remember, Reynata? You can tell me. I’m your friend and I will not let anything happen to you. The room you are in is warm and comforting and your friend Dale is here with me.’ Peter’s monotone voice was calm, quiet and soothing. He took one of her hands in his and stroked it gently.

She pulled away. Her entire body started to shake as if she was in a room of ice, but both Dale and Peter recognised it as a memory of the drugs she had been on. She began garbling unintelligible words and her arms began to splay widely, almost knocking the nearby lamp off the table.

‘Reynata … don’t dwell on that time. I want you to go back a couple of days. What do you see?’

Reynata let out an ear-piercing scream so shrill that it drew shivers of fear from Peter and Dale. The scream was not the type let out by young girls having fun but of a woman pushed to the end of her endurance and in extreme pain. She did not move but continued to scream as her mind fought the demons of the past.

‘Bring her back, Uncle,’ Dale ordered, but as soon as Peter went to snap his fingers, Reynata unexpectedly stopped. She looked at Dale with sightless eyes but seemed to recognise him nonetheless.

‘I know you. You were nice to me before I went to sleep, but I also knew you long ago. I tried to remember where I had seen your face, but my mind was not clear. I could not shake the fog that has invaded my brain.’ Reynata drew her legs up onto the chair and began rocking.

She was quiet for a moment longer but suddenly started sobbing. ‘I have lost her. I did my best to look after her, but I have lost her. She was all I had.’ Reynata wailed continually until Peter took her hands.

‘My daughter. She is too young to look after herself. I don’t know where she is. She does not answer me when I call her name.’ Reynata’s voice raised a few decibels with angst.

‘Your daughter is safe, Reynata. She is with me. Now I want you to go back a couple more weeks,’ soothed Peter firmly, his frown confirming his fear that he was pushing her too far.

‘My children. They have come into the room together and they are happy. They are laughing and smiling and I think they’ve been playing together.’

She did not reply, her face transforming into a contortion of agony. ‘They are coming for me again. I can hear their voices in the corridor. Ahaw wants me and I know what he wants to do. He wants to force his fingers and wrinkly penis between my legs, but I won’t let him. Not again. This time I will fight. I love my children but I can’t do it again. The humiliation is too much for me to bear,’ Reynata sobbed softly.

‘But my children. I have to protect them,’ she continued. Her expression softened momentarily at the memory of her children but hardened quickly. ‘If he passes me to the other fat man, this time I will kill him.’

‘Who is the other man, Reynata? What is his name?’ asked Peter gently.

‘Ferrero. He calls him “Ferrero, the Lizard Man” because he has two lizard tattoos on his arm.’

‘I think that’s enough,’ whispered Peter as Reynata began to shake uncontrollably. She began screaming again. ‘God, no! God, no!’ she cried at the top of her voice. ‘They want to show the rest of the group what happens when someone defies them. I told him I’m going to tell the world about him, what a monster Arun Keane actually is, and now they want to torture and murder me.’ Reynata cried as she was near hysterical.

Dale nodded, his mouth open with shock. He had discovered more than he had thought possible, including the name ‘Ferrero the Lizard Man’. Ferrero referred to Senator Ferrero Santiano, one of the 128 members of the Senate. He was well-known for his flamboyant lifestyle and refusal to cover up the tattoos of his beloved pet lizards. He was not favoured amongst the Senate, but his loud mouth earned him a small loyal following of people willing to do what was necessary to ensure Ferrero was listened to. He was like an Achilles heel to the government that they could not shake.

Dale had to leave. It was important for him to find Ferrero, but he was worried about leaving Reynata. She had opened herself up to them, revealing the trauma she had suffered at the hands of Arun Keane and Ferrero Santiano and he did not want to desert her now.

Weighing on his mind was also the confirmation that she was the girl he had met in the darkness of a sleazy hotel on a warm summer’s night twenty-five years ago. His drunken stupor did not allow him to remember what she looked like or where she came from except that she has escaped from some camp or group for the night. He was far too interested in having sex to care.

Four years later, a brutally tortured young woman was found wandering the streets with a child in tow. She was on the verge of death and was unable to recollect her name, where she came from or even if the child was hers. Dale took custody of the child and it was not until Peter expressed his surprise at her uncanny likeness to his sister, Dale’s mother, including the unusual shade of red hair and pale skin, that they had her DNA tested. Although common sense said that Reynata was the mother, her memory loss, Dale’s drunken stupor and lack of recognition of the woman he had slept with did not provide him with the one hundred per cent confirmation he was seeking. The last straw was the lack of opportunity to test Reynata’s DNA for a match, or so he told himself. Whilst he visited her regularly he had always forced this issue to the back of his mind, like a dirty little secret that could not be revisited. Reopening that door would create immensurable consequences, so he simply chose to ignore it.

This forced his hand and any doubts of her paternity had been put to rest. Reynata was Gillian’s mother and in one sense he was relieved, but it also gave him a massive headache. In order to protect Gillian from any traumatic memories she may have experienced, he had led her to believe her mother had died. In addition to that, it seemed that she may have a half brother that she would need to know about. It was one conversation he wasn’t looking forward to. She would be furious.

Dale looked at Peter and noted the expression of serenity and composure. His uncle possessed an uncanny ability to take everything in his stride and it often left Dale feeling somewhat jealous. He often wished he could let go as easily.

‘It’s fine, Dale. Reynata is safe with me. You need to go and find that man, Ferrero Santiano.’

Dale smiled gratefully and left the room. He had a lot to do. Without the assistance of Georgio, he would need to go on his own although he did need to ring him. If anyone knew the location of Ferrero Santiano, it would be Georgio.

Dale reached for his mobile phone and dialled.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

It did not take Richard long to gain his bearings and he quickly located the hollow rock that held the rope against the roof. If it lay against the north wall, as Julia thought, then the handholds should be built into the west wall, but a quick scan proved fruitless. He needed to look a little more carefully and logic told him that the niches he was searching for would be hidden or covered over with infill. The architect was too thorough to leave anything unfinished.

So as not to overbalance, Richard lay on his stomach and stretched out across the roof of the lift. He shone his torch horizontally at the far west wall, straining and aching with exertion as he moved the torch back and forth in an attempt to pinpoint the elusive join. Just as he began to doubt Julia’s wisdom, Richard located a narrow, hairline crack that created a small rectangle approximately six by two inches. He felt like screaming with joy, particularly since he now knew what he was looking for and readily identified another ten. They were spaced four feet apart and extended as far down as his torch would allow and up to ten foot from the roof. It was here that Richard knew he would find the tool room and he experienced the first flutter of excitement since he had become trapped.

Climbing back into their enclosure, Richard eagerly shared his discoveries with his friends and discussed the best strategy to reach the tool room.

They quickly determined that there was no way they could stop the lift falling when the rope broke. Richard momentarily considered connecting his Capewell retractable grappling hook to the eyelet near the ceiling but, even with a weight-bearing capacity of 1600 pounds, it was unlikely to hold.

‘We have already determined that we can’t use the grappling hook to support the lift, but perhaps we can use them to individually swing ourselves over to the tool room,’ concluded Fred.