Torrent (16 page)

I walked around the northwestern edge. Through the mist, I saw a lone figure approaching me. My eyes widened. "What are you doing out of bed?" My voice sounded fuzzy through my respirator.

Pacho walked forward. He looked far better than I remembered. "I'm feeling better now. Those leaves really did the trick."

"They did?"

He nodded. "I gave some to Rigoberta on the sly. She's feeling better too. I think she'll be up and about by morning."

I hesitated. "Does she know about Yohl Ik’nal?"

"Yeah, she knows." he sighed. "She's been crying for the last hour. I tried to get Alonzo to comfort her, but all he wants to do is stare at the jungle."

"After what he went through, I don't blame him."

"Me neither." He paused. "Anyway the doc told me to rest so I can't stay long. But I wanted to thank you. I don't actually remember it, but he said you helped him take care of me."

"You don't remember it?" I frowned. "But you were talking the whole time."

"Truthfully, I don't remember a single thing from the last couple of days." He nodded at the respirator. "By the way, why are you wearing that thing out here?"

"Dr. Wu gave it to me. He says it'll filter close to one hundred percent of all non-oil based airborne particles."

"You're worried about dust?"

"Not exactly." I glanced at the west wall. "Do you know how you got sick?"

He shook his head.

"I was thinking this pyramid might be responsible."

"Oh?"

"You've probably heard of King Tut's curse, right? Well, it's just a myth. There was no curse inscribed inside the tomb. And most of the people who worked on it lived long lives. Still, the financial backer, Lord Carnarvon, died less than five months after Howard Carter opened the tomb."

He stood silently, waiting for me to continue.

"Old tombs are a breeding ground for dangerous bacteria. And mummies and leftover food attract funguses. Those things wouldn't be enough to kill a normal person. But they could cause a little sickness and maybe even kill off a person with a weak immune system. Some people think that explains Lord Carnarvon's death."

He opened his mouth to reply. But at that exact moment, the skies opened up, unleashing torrential rain.

I tilted my head upward. The rain continued to pour. It neither abated nor strengthened. It just fell.

My forehead scrunched up. There was something else about the rain, something I'd missed. I formed my hands into a cup and held them out in front of me. Water splashed into them.

Surprise came over me as I studied the rain. It wasn't normal rain. It was thicker, gooier. And its color …

It was red.

Blood red.

Chapter 49

The gooey red rain splashed against my face as I ran through the marsh. It oozed down my cheeks, slipped down my neck, and vanished into my shirt. I didn't understand it. Hell, I didn't want to understand it. I just wanted out of it.

Pacho started to lag behind. I slowed my pace and offered him my shoulder. Then we continued running.

We climbed out of the marsh and veered under the dome tent. I released Pacho and fell to a knee, breathing rapidly.

Others joined us. Nervous whispers and anxious questions rang out.

A strong wind swept across the canyon, turning the red rain sideways. It made for an incredible sight.

"I can't believe it," Beverly said softly.

"Ever seen anything like it before?" I asked.

She shook her head.

There was something about the rain that captivated me. It was an ancient, almost mystical rain. It fell with a certain grace that gave it substance and a life of its own.

I watched it for a long time, entranced by its force and beauty. Part of me was eager for it to end. I was sick of rain, sick of being wet. But the other part of me wanted it to go on forever.

"Have you ever heard of Kerala?" Beverly asked.

"Sure," I replied. "It's in India."

"Red rain fell there in the early 2000s."

"It did?"

"There were a whole bunch of theories at the time. For example, an exploding meteor. Supposedly, the material mixed with the clouds and fell to the ground as rain over a period of months. Other scientists suggested heavy winds had kicked up dust from Arabian deserts. As I recall, the official report blamed it on lichen spores in the atmosphere."

"That makes sense."

"A couple of scientists analyzed the rain. It consisted mostly of carbon and oxygen with trace amounts of other things. It also contained biological matter that gave the rain a certain thickness. Some people considered that evidence of the panspermia hypothesis. That's the theory that—"

"That life exists in outer space." I glanced at her. "What are you getting at?"

"Nothing yet. But I think I'll gather a few samples. Who knows? I might find something interesting."

"Go for it." I paused. "By the way, did you get a chance to analyze the pyramid samples yet?"

She shook her head. "I spent most of the afternoon helping Dutch search the summit shrine tunnel. Hopefully, I'll get to them later tonight."

Our conversation died off. So did the other conversations. Silence overtook the dome tent as we stared at the red rain.

Deep down, I knew the red rain wasn't random. It hadn't come from a meteor, desert sand, or a bunch of spores. The red rain had come from somewhere else, somewhere very close.

My gaze drifted to the pyramid. I didn't understand it.

And yet, I knew it was true.

Chapter 50

Miranda held out her hand as she stole into the jungle. Drops of rain splashed against her fingers. They were clear. But it didn't make her feel any better. Unlike Tum, she didn't care much for nature.

That wasn't to say she didn't care about the environment. She drove a hybrid vehicle. State-of-the-art solar panels were installed on the roof of her mansion. And she kept a constant eye on her carbon footprint. She just preferred people to animals, fundraisers to camping trips, and dinner parties to grueling hikes.

She crossed behind a large tree. Then she leaned out and studied the camp. It was late. Almost everyone else had fallen asleep hours earlier.

Her heart thumped wildly as she glanced at the fire pit. Reed and Graham stood guard just beyond it. They kept a close eye on the southeastern jungle, searching for the mysterious cat that had killed Yohl Ik’nal.

Miranda pulled the satphone out of her pocket. So far, no one had noticed its absence. Even Pacho, who had returned to his tent, hadn't mentioned it.

A grimace crossed her face as she thought about Pacho. She'd talked to him shortly after he'd left the clinic. He claimed not to recall anything from the last couple of days. But it didn't matter. He still possessed knowledge that could destroy everything she'd built so carefully over the years.

She opened the satphone and quickly disabled the parental control measures. Then she dialed into her voicemail.

She cringed as Votan's disembodied voice screeched in her ear. Quickly, she turned down the volume.

"Your terms are satisfactory," Votan said. "Call me with the time and place. Just one question though. You've made no monetary demands. What exactly do you want in exchange for your cooperation?"

The line clicked.

Miranda stared at the satphone for a moment. She felt the familiar wrenching guilt. She could scarcely believe what she was about to do. And yet, she had no choice. Far too much depended on her actions.

She dialed Votan's number and waited for the familiar clicking noise. Then she cleared her throat. "We've tracked the Library of the Mayas to the Eastern Mountains. I'll call with the exact location when we've found a way to access it. Make sure you're in the immediate vicinity. And to answer your question, I don't need money. I just need you to help me seize the library." She paused. "And then I need you to help me destroy it."

Chapter 51

Sweat dripped into my eyes, but I didn't blink. Raindrops, no longer red, soaked my clothing. I ignored them. Wind howled at my ears and caused my clothes to flap. But I didn't move a bit.

The shadow emerged from the southeastern jungle. Cautiously, it crept toward our camp.

It measured about seven feet from its nose to its swishing tail. Its shoulders stood about three feet off the ground. Its head added another foot or so to its height. I couldn't see its coat or its facial features. So, I wasn't sure if it was a jaguar or a cougar. But it was definitely a cat.

I aimed my pistol at the creature. My finger touched the trigger.

Abruptly, loud barking rang out.

The cat, momentarily startled, froze in place.

I adjusted my aim and squeezed the trigger. The pistol recoiled in my hands as a bullet streaked out of the barrel. It soared across the muddy earth.

The cat roared as the bullet streaked through its right shoulder. It twisted toward me and I got a good look at its startling eyes. I knew the sapphire color meant it had an extra layer of tissue behind its retinas. This tissue, known as the
tapetum lucidum
, provided it with enhanced night vision.

The cat darted toward the jungle. I tried to keep an eye on it, but it was too fast and quickly vanished into the shadows.

As people poured out of their tents, Alonzo ran to the edge of camp. He howled at the sky.

I sprinted to where I'd seen the cat and pointed my flashlight at the ground. I saw bloody paw prints. Leaning closer, I noticed two scratch marks crisscrossing each other on the right set of heel pads. "It's the same one from the other night," I called out. "It—"

With a loud bark, Alonzo raced toward the jungle. My jaw tightened as I remembered Yohl Ik’nal's horrible fate.

I ran after Alonzo. The land sloped upward. The air grew thicker. It was the sort of air that sucked your breath out and left you gagging for oxygen. Before long, I felt like I was going to pass out.

I sprinted past the tree line. The ground continued to slope upward. Coupled with the loose mud, it made for difficult traveling.

The trees around me were massive and ancient. Their thick trunks drifted high into the air, vanishing into the mist. They'd clearly been around for a long time, at least a couple of centuries.

Dead leaves hung from the branches. They swayed from side to side, rustling quietly in the breeze. The jungle was pristine, but far from beautiful.

Just ahead, I saw Alonzo. His nose was pointed at the earth. He moved back and forth, sniffing the ground, bushes, fallen branches, and leaves.

"Stop," Crowley shouted. "I see it."

I pulled to a halt. "Where?"

"Above you."

I looked up. My heart skipped a beat.

A large cougar stood on the branches of a tall tree, just ten feet over my head. It roamed back and forth, shifting from branch to branch.

I backed up a step and pointed my gun at the cougar.

It stopped. Stared down at me. Bared its fangs.

"Wait," Graham shouted. "You're too close."

A loud gunshot rang out, inches away from my head. I cringed and instinctively clutched at my ears.

The giant cougar toppled out of the tree. It smacked a few branches on the way down before landing in a heap, less than five feet away from me.

I waited for it to jump up. But it lay in the muddy grass, unmoving.

Gradually, I became aware of my surroundings. Rustles sounded out along with deafening shrieks and low-throated growls. Some noises sounded far away. Others were uncomfortably close.

I glanced at Alonzo. He continued to roam the area, sniffing the ground. I was proud of him for overcoming his fears. At the same time, I was puzzled by his lack of interest in the cougar. Had he found another scent? A stronger one, perhaps?

"Looks like I got it," Crowley said.

"You should've warned me." I glared at him. "What if you'd missed?"

"I don't miss," Crowley said.

"Don't be too sure about that." Graham bent down and inspected the cougar. "These paws are clean, free of marks."

"Who cares?"

"We all should care. Because you killed the wrong animal."

Chapter 52

Rigoberta, looking far better than I remembered, cleared her throat. "So, this isn't the one that killed my baby?"

"It doesn't look that way." Graham pointed at Alonzo, who was still sniffing the ground. "Otherwise, he wouldn't be searching for a scent. Plus, the heel pads don't match up."

"We've been endangering animals by cutting them off from the marsh. But at least we weren't killing them." Tum glared at Crowley. "Until now."

His reaction took me by surprise. It was the first time I'd seen Tum lose his temper.

"Maybe it's not the animal that's been hanging around our camp," Crowley retorted. "But it's still a predator."

"So, we should just kill any animal that might do us harm?"

Crowley shrugged.

"Most likely, it would've ignored us. Cougars rarely attack people."

"That's because they've learned to avoid people," Graham said softly. "That's not the case here."

"Why stop now?" Tum's hands formed fists. "Why don't we just go kill the rest of the cougars while we're at it?"

"Actually, that's not a bad idea," Crowley said. "Maybe that'll teach the survivors to fear us."

"Or take revenge on us."

"Animals don't take revenge."

"Certain animals, including big cats, are capable of grudges," Tum replied sharply. "Revenge isn't a far step from that."

As he spoke, I realized Miranda, Tum, and the Maneros made for an interesting team. They'd grown up together in the Lacandon Jungle. Yet, they'd developed different views along the way.

Miranda cared about the Classic Maya civilization and global environmental issues like climate change. Yet, she showed little interest in her tribe. Plus, she seemed uncomfortable in nature.

Tum hadn't expressed an opinion about big-picture issues. Yet, he cared deeply for the life of a single cougar. As a shaman, he drew on the ways of his Classic Maya predecessors. At the same time, he continued to be an active part of his tribe.