Burial Ground (32 page)

She reached the end of the wall, which
veered at a ninety degree angle back toward the sheer face of the
peak. Here she could see the fortification more clearly. It had to
be more than twenty-five feet tall, higher even than the majority
of the walls at Kuelap. A large section on this northern face had
fallen to ruin in a pile of broken bricks. It almost looked as
though a thin stone staircase had once passed through the wall
before one of the sides had collapsed down onto it. Whatever the
case, it granted them access to the ruins that lay on the other
side.

The rain pounded down on her, soaking her
even under her poncho, but she didn't care.

She scrabbled up the steep mound of
moss-blanketed stones until she reached the top of the wall, and
stared down at a sight the likes of which few modern men had ever
seen before. So far, all of the Chachapoyan ruins had been
discovered by locals, who had thoroughly ransacked the sites,
pillaging everything of value that might have helped scholars piece
together the last days of this once great society. This one was
different. It didn't appear as though anything had been disturbed
by more than the wind and the elements since the last occupants had
turned their backs on the fortress.

"What do you see?" Leo called up from below.
His voice quivered with emotion.

Sam couldn't find the words to describe it.
She could only shake her head. It was everything she had hoped to
find and more.

She looked back at the others, who had
congregated at the base of the wall. Past them she could see the
rugged cut of the stone cliff beside the waterfall. With the mist,
it was impossible to tell how wide or deep the chasm was. Even the
eternal expanse of the jungle on the eastern foothills and plains
was hidden from sight. They were alone at the top of the world,
isolated by the clouds and geography. It almost felt as though they
were on a different planet entirely.

The red light of Jay's camera stared up at
her, along with nine pairs of anxious eyes.

She could contain her smile no longer.

"Well?" she called. "What are you waiting
for?"

She turned back to the village inside the
great wall, and began to pick her way down the crumbled slope
toward the greatest discovery of her entire career.

2:48 p.m.

Dahlia reached the pinnacle of the mound of
rubble and stared down upon the ruins. They were more amazing than
she had even dared to hope. She spun to face Jay, who was hot on
her heels, camera in hand. The eagerness in his eyes surely matched
her own. This was what they'd been waiting for. This documentary
would put them on the map and they would have more work and success
than they'd be able to handle.

She turned back to the task at hand. The
others were already at the bottom of the pile, staring in awe at
the scene before them. She needed all of this on film. This was no
time to lag behind. This was when the magic happened.

"I want a panoramic view of this spread from
up here, then focus down on the others where they are now. As soon
as you have enough footage, haul ass down there and see if we can
get a shot of their faces before they begin to explore. And stick
with Sam. She's our expert. I want to see everything she sees. And
make sure you're close enough to record everything she says. That
information is crucial for the voiceover."

"I'm on it," he said, and took up post on
the highest vantage point.

Meanwhile, she needed to stall the others to
buy Jay some time to catch up. This was her moment. She'd followed
patiently and stayed out of the way like a good little girl, but
this was what they were paying her for. If they wanted this done
right, they were going to have to do it her way.

She scrambled down the loose bricks,
slipping on the mossy surfaces and catching herself on her abraded
palms. The rain made the descent even more challenging, but she'd
rather chance a sprained ankle than blow this opportunity.

And why did it have to be raining anyway?
Sure, it added a measure of reality and ambiance, but she would
have traded both for a clear blue sky.

The others appeared ready to disperse. She
had to be quick.

"Wait!" She leaped from the mound and landed
in the mud. Her legs buckled and she fell to her knees, tearing her
jeans and the skin beneath them. She didn't even feel it. Lunging
to her feet, she grabbed Leo by the arm. "This is why you brought
us. If you want this properly documented, then you have to wait for
Jay." She paused to catch her breath. "We enter as a group, Sam in
the lead. Jay will be right at her hip with me behind him. The rest
of you stay a couple steps back until I give the word."

The expression on Leo's face was one of
indignation. He was obviously not a man accustomed to being told
what to do. He opened his mouth to protest, but Dahlia silenced his
objection in a whisper.

"You said you wanted this film to be your
son's legacy. That legacy is now in my hands. If you want something
half-assed with people tromping all over the ruins, then by all
means, go ahead. But if you want this film to be truly special,
something that will simultaneously honor your son's memory and make
the viewers feel as though they're part of the expedition, then
you're going to have to do this the right way. My way."

After a long pause, he acquiesced with a
nod. Dahlia felt a swell of power.

She turned to Sam. "Are you ready to do
this?" The way the anthropologist appeared ready to burst, Dahlia
didn't need to wait for an answer. "Then on my mark, you take the
lead. This is the first pass. I want you to point out and describe
everything of topical importance. Save the fine details for later
when we'll have plenty of time to properly document each. For now,
I just want a leisurely stroll through the ruins, a cursory
exploration, if you will."

"Can we do this now, or would you like to
touch up my makeup first?"

Dahlia matched Sam's smirk, and with a
flourish, gestured for her to lead the way.

"Stay right on top of her," Dahlia whispered
to Jay, who had taken a moment to ready himself, and now advanced
on Sam's left. "And don't you dare miss a thing."

"Relax, girl. This is what I was born to
do."

Dahlia fell into stride behind him, so close
she nearly clipped his heels with each step, and, with her heart
beating as fast as a hummingbird's, prepared to make cinematic
history.

2:57 p.m.

It was all Leo could do to keep from
shouting for the others to clear out of his way and running blindly
through the wreckage of the village. Somewhere inside these
crumbling fortifications were the answers he required to piece
together the final days of his son's life. He had to know why
Hunter died, and he had to find someone to hold responsible for it.
Someone needed to pay.

He followed behind Dahlia as they entered
the ruins, staying close enough to Sam that he could hear her every
word. His gaze darted over every minute detail. Nothing escaped his
attention. He couldn't afford to miss anything.

It was apparent that they weren't entering
the village from the main entrance, but rather from what appeared
to be the rear. The layout reminded him of the village they had
passed through in the valley, had it been struck by a hurricane and
allowed to decompose over the span of centuries. Weeds and trees
had grown up through the cracked cobblestone walkways, and the
monstrous ceiba trees around which the buildings had been
constructed had laid claim to their remains. Vines dangled from the
branches, connecting the trees as completely as if woven into a web
by some massive spider. Epiphytes bloomed from every surface in
shades of pink and blue, and mosquitoes swarmed around the stagnant
water trapped in the cups formed by the aloe-like leaves of
bromeliads. Circular dwellings dominated this region, but their
tall, thatch roofs had long since fallen. The rotted and broken
beams that had once supported them stood from the huts at odd
angles, barely visible beneath the creeping foliage that entwined
the wood. Stacked stones had tumbled from the walls and were now
heaped under soil and aggressive bushes. He peered through the
crumbled sections and saw broken pottery and practical relics of
all kinds.

"At a guess," Sam said, "I'd wager there are
close to twenty of these round dwellings. If this village mirrors
the modern one, as I suspect, there should be a matching number on
the other side, which should place the population somewhere in the
neighborhood of two hundred. That's a rough, preliminary estimate,
of course."

Leo scoured the area for any sign of
Hunter's passage. There had to be something here.

They wound around tree trunks, ducked under
vines and branches, and climbed over termite-infested trunks. Ants
so large their pincers appeared capable of stealing chunks of flesh
crawled across everything. Flies buzzed from out of sight. After
several excruciatingly slow minutes, during which they paused a
half-dozen times for Sam to point out interesting architectural
nuances, decorative friezes covered in moss, and sculpted faces on
the stone half-walls that lined the path, they reached the central
courtyard. Here the forest had run rampant, tearing up the paving
stones and filling nearly every available inch of growing space.
Flowering shrubs had shot up in the gaps between them, leaving only
thin passages reminiscent of animal trails.

"We could probably date the approximate time
that this fortress was abandoned by the strata in the soil," Sam
said. "Or if we can find a midden heap, we could use radiocarbon
dating on the top layer of refuse."

Leo recognized a similar pair of round
stages to the right, all but buried beneath dirt and vegetation,
which covered the gap between them where the stairs would have
been. The rectangular structure behind them was masked by a façade
of vines and lianas. Trees grew through the roof. Dark holes marred
its face where the cubes of stone had tumbled into piles that now
sprouted thorny shrubs with brilliant orange and yellow blossoms.
Several of the doorways had collapsed, but two still remained open
to varying degrees in the center, guarded by screens of vines.

Sam approached the main building, scurried
up onto the stage in front of it, and stood before the most
accessible doorway with the cameraman leaning over her shoulder.
Leo climbed up behind her. He noticed that much of the foliage
covering the entrance was recent growth. Thinner sprouts had
emerged from bluntly severed vines, their ends coiled with
still-furled leaves. Someone had recently hacked their way through.
His heart ached with the realization of who must have done it.

"We're going to need light," Sam said.

Colton held out his penlight, and Leo
quickly commandeered it while Jay switched on the camera's
spotlight.

Sam parted the curtain of vines, climbed
over the rubble, and stepped into the darkness with Jay directly
behind her, his light diffusing into a weak glow that swirled with
motes of dust. Leo shoved through and found himself in an
antechamber that appeared to be anything but structurally sound.
The stone pillars that had once supported the ceiling lay in rubble
throughout the room; in their place, broad trunks had grown from
cracks in the upturned floor and filled the gaps in the stone roof.
There were piles of broken rock everywhere, and the back wall,
which must have once featured several doorways that led deeper into
the building, had partially collapsed under the weight of the
buckled ceiling.

The camera's beam swept from the left side
of the room to the right in a slow, steady arc, highlighting spider
webs large enough to snare a grown man and pale, withered plants
that somehow managed to survive in the absence of light. Water
dripped from the cracks above into broad pools that had eroded into
the floor and stank of rotten eggs. Roots of all kinds dangled from
the ceiling like cobwebs. There was no movement of air, only the
trapped heat and humidity that caused the sweat to bloom from his
pores.

A mound of crumbled bricks dominated the
wall to the left. They appeared to have been forged from a
combination of clay and metal, which glinted as the light swept
across them.

"What's that over there?" Sam asked,
pointing off to the right where the wall was stained black with
soot.

Jay's beam flashed across it, then focused
down to a shrinking circle as he walked closer. A ring of rocks
surrounded a pit in the floor filled with charcoal-colored water,
fed by the rainwater dripping from a hole in the ceiling. A tangle
of thick roots snaked from the roof into the stagnant pool, which
hummed with mosquitoes and surely teemed with larvae. Several
dented and tarnished pots rested against the wall, one much thicker
and caked with black metallic residue, like a smelting pot. Beside
them was what at first looked like a jumble of sticks, but upon
closer inspection, there was no denying what they truly were.

Bones.

Stacks of bleached bones.

Sam crouched before the cluttered heaps and
carefully removed one of the long bones from the top. It was so
smooth that despite its obvious age, it appeared polished beneath
the coating of dust. The shape was unmistakably human. Rounded cup
for articulation into the shoulder, broad distal end that expanded
into protruding epicondyles and rounded condyles. A humerus.

"This can't be right," Sam whispered.

Leo had seen enough. They had screwed around
for far too long already. He whirled and shoved through the others
as they entered the chamber. There had to be some sign of his son
around here, and he was going to find it.

They had found Hunter's body, but what about
the rest of his party? There had been no sign of them on the trail
leading here. Surely that would have been the same path they used
to return to civilization, which meant that they still had to be up
here somewhere. Or at least what was left of them.