Canyon of the Sphinx (37 page)

“What’s the matter?” he teased
gently. “Aren’t they doing it right?”

She was staring at the Bobcat and
the workers milling around it. “I’m feeling things,” she murmured.

“What kind of things?”

“Dead things.”

Tony had known Kathlyn for four
years. He’d been around her enough to know what happened to her when he senses
took over. But he wasn’t prepared to handle her like the rest of the team was.

“Otis,” he hissed. “Get over
here.”

Otis glanced up from his computer
screen, watching Tony gesture at Kathlyn. Tony made weird gesticulations with
his hands around his head. It was primitive communication, and comical, but it
worked. Otis understood what he was trying to tell him and went over to where
she stood.

He eyed her closely, his gaze
moving back and forth between Tony’s tense expression and Kathlyn’s frozen-like
stare.

 “What’s going on, Kathlyn?” Otis
asked steadily. “What are you feeling?”

Her mouth moved as if she was
attempting to speak. But her entire body suddenly shuddered violently and she
pitched forward. Tony caught her from behind and Otis caught her from the front
before she could hurt herself. Together, the carefully lowered her to a seated
position. She was shaking so violently that Tony threw his arms around her and
held on tight in an attempt to stop the quaking. Larry and Andy, watching in
horror as she seized, took off for Marcus.

Kathlyn quivered for a few
moments before her head abruptly snapped back, hitting Tony on the nose and
causing him to see stars. Blood trickled from his nostril. Otis had seen her
enter the State many times; though most were benign, some could be ferocious,
like this one promised to be. He’d been with her from the beginning of her
career and had never gotten used to these spells.

“Kathlyn,” he said evenly. “Can
you hear me?”

Her pretty mouth hung open as if
she was gasping for air. Otis felt the pulse on her neck; it was steady and
strong. Her breathing was normal if not deep. Tony, his head wedged between her
shoulder and skull so he wouldn’t get hit again, looked to Otis as if the man
had all the answers.

“What’s happening to her?” the
Marine asked.

Otis shook his head in wonder. He
lifted an eyelid; predictably, her pupils were so large that the green iris was
completely gone. By this time, Marcus and Christopher and the others had
reached them. Marcus was at a dead run, coming to a halt so abruptly that he
kicked up clods of earth. Otis was roughly shoved aside as he planted himself
in front of his wife, though it was nothing personal against Otis.

“Kathlyn,” his voice was strong
and calm. “Sweetheart, can you hear me? What’s happening?”

Her head was braced against
Tony’s. Her mouth moved again, slowly. Up bubbled forth that strange voice that
none of them recognized as hers.

“Dj-ni-xian,” she gurgled.

Christopher was next to Marcus.
“It’s that name again,” he whispered loudly. “I’d like to know who that is.”

Marcus didn’t care about Dj-ni-xian
so much as he cared about Kathlyn’s well-being. Though the violent quivering
had eased, she looked like she was in serious distress. He didn’t like it at
all. He touched her face, gently rubbing her cheeks.

“Kathlyn,” he said softly. “Come
back to us, sweetheart. Whatever is going on, let it go. I need you back with
us.”

She sighed, deep and heavy. “Here
you awaken us.”

Marcus wanted her out of whatever
trance gripped her. But Christopher wanted answers.

“Who is awakened?” he asked.

“Nguiiu.”

Christopher’s brow lifted in
surprise. “There’s that word again. Recognize it, Dr. Burton?”

“According to you, that’s the
Zapotec word for Man.”

“You got it.”

They both looked at Kathlyn,
Marcus torn between curiosity and her health, and Christopher out of pure
fascination. “Man is awakened?” Marcus repeated softly, watching his wife’s
slow, labored breathing. “What in the hell does that mean?”

“Maybe she means the site
itself,” Christopher said softly, quickly. “Maybe she means that by the mere
fact of excavating, we’re awakening whatever is here.”

“Could be.”

“But why is she going back
between English and Zapotec? She did that before. It’s like she’s translating.”

Marcus shook his head. “She
doesn’t know Zapotec, I guarantee you. Whatever has her, it’s using her to
translate, not the other way around.”

It was an amazing circumstance,
whatever the case. Kathlyn was still in Tony’s vise-like grip and Marcus gently
took her from him, pulling her into his massive arms. She was limp, like a wet
rag. She slumped against his chest, yet her neck remained oddly rigid.

“Kathlyn,” his lips were against
her forehead. “Snap out of it, sweetheart. Time to come back to us.”

He thought she was starting to
come around because she stirred slightly. Her breathing seemed to slow. But she
unexpectedly sat bolt upright, her eyes flying open and her face stricken with
terror. No one seemed to notice that the Bobcat had become mired in a rut, its
bucket grinding against the earth and accidentally gouging a big hole in the
rich earth.

“Bi’cu’ ro nguiiu,” she gasped.
“Kajaw tujz… el Demonio que come a hombre! El templo de Sangre!”

Frightened for her, Marcus gave
her a good shake. “Kathlyn, snap out of it. Do you hear me?”

Christopher put a hand on his arm
to stop him. “Listen to what she’s saying, Dr. Burton. Do you understand any of
it?”

“I don’t want to understand it,”
Marcus snapped. “I want her to snap out of whatever the hell is going on.”

“But
I
understand it,”
Christopher’s calmer tone prevailed over Marcus’ worried one. “She just spoke
two different languages; Zapotec and Spanish. Remember the legend we were
talking about last night about the man-eating demons? She just said it, in two
languages.”

Marcus was frustrated, alarmed.
“She’s just repeating what she heard last night.”

“In Zapotec? You said she didn’t
speak the language.”

Marcus’ cobalt-blue eyes blazed
at Christopher. “Damn it, Murphy, this isn’t some mystical game. I don’t care
if she’s channeling or not, of if you think you can get some answers for your
riddles out of her, but I’m not going to…”

All the rigidity went out of
Kathlyn’s body at that moment and she collapsed against her husband. Her left
hand clawed at his shoulder, slowly, as if she was grasping at him with her
last bit of strength.

“Marcus,” she muttered. “Tell
them to stop… digging.…”

He was startled by her coherent
request. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Stop digging where?”

Her head lolled back and her eyes
opened again, slowly. She was deathly pale even though her pupils had regained
their normal size.

“The Bobcat,” she whispered.
“Tell them to stop.”

“Why?”

“They’re afraid of it.”

“Who?”

“The ghosts.”

Christopher shot to his feet and
let out a piercing whistle. The engine on the Bobcat died immediately. He knelt
back down beside Kathlyn.

“It’s off, Dr. Trent,” his soft
voice was calm. “Why did we stop?”

She blinked, a little more lucid
now. The great green eyes filled with tears and she struggled to sit up. “My
God,” she gasped softly. “I… I saw them.”

“Saw what?” Marcus steadied her.
She was shaking and distressed. “Take your time, honey. Don’t over-do it.”

She turned in the direction of
the overgrown plaza. Her death-grip on Marcus had her digging nails into his
flesh. “The people… they’re all there, underneath that dirt. Hundreds of them
beneath that awful pyramid. It was those animals that killed them.”

“What animals?” Marcus asked.

Kathlyn was growing increasingly
upset. Tears spilled down her cheeks. “They looked like… like something feline,
but with an almost pug-like face. I would have thought they were big cats, like
jaguars, but somehow they were different. Like a hybrid or a throwback, I don’t
know. Maybe they were something that got twisted up during the course of
evolution that now no longer exists. They’re immortalized in the image of those
sphinxes you two are so interested in.”

Marcus didn’t know what to say.
She was clearly upset and he didn’t like seeing her so shaken up. He looked at
Murphy, who wasn’t faring much better. He was curious, confused, and depressed
at the same time.

“So these people built images to
indigenous, apparently now extinct, creatures that eventually ended up killing
them?” He shook his head, baffled. “This mystery just gets deeper and deeper.”

“It wasn’t just those cat-things,”
she wiped her eyes. “They were controlled by men, like attack animals. Hell, I
don’t even know if ‘men’ is the right term. They were so hairy and ugly, but
definitely humanoid. I could see bits and pieces, like flashes in my brain, of
these men coming out of the jungle and attacking the people in the courtyard.
The people begged for their lives and tried to talk to the cat-things as if
they could understand them. But the animals didn’t know any better. They just
massacred them.”

It was a horrific thought, full
of blood and violence and gore. It was Christopher’s ghost story, only
ten-fold. Christopher gazed at her, perhaps longer than he should have, his
mind churning.

“I’m sorry I have to ask this,
but I do,” he said in his soft, gentle voice. “Last night I told you the tale
of los diablos que comen a hombre. Is it possible that my tale planted the
thought in your mind and that you just dreamed all of this up?”

She was used to skepticism.
Christopher had been more than accepting of her non-conventional talents and
this was the first time she had ever heard him utter anything to the contrary.
“It’s possible, but I doubt it. I don’t work that way. I told you this place
had ghosts long before you ever told me your story. If anything, my senses just
confirmed the tale. Los diablos que comen a hombre really happened here, all
those centuries ago, and that’s where the stories came from.”

With everything he had seen from
her since the moment she’d first set foot on this site, he believed her without
question. It made perfect sense. Christopher stood slowly, his pale blue eyes
scanning the courtyard and the growth-covered pyramid beyond.

“Then it would explain how this
place was destroyed in a single night,” he said. He repeated her phrase. “It’s
an amazing thing when legend becomes truth.”

 “You don’t have your truth yet,
but I think you will.” Kathlyn turned her attention to the courtyard as well.
“Those people are there, without a doubt. We need to stop using the Bobcat and
start using trowels and hand tools to uncover the area. It’s a mass grave and
should be treated as such.”

“Whatever you say,” Christopher
said. He glanced down at her, pale and upset. He couldn’t even begin to express
his gratitude. The last time he had tried, he had nearly destroyed them all. It
had taken hard work and time for them to come to this fragile peace. “You’ve
been monumental to this project. I’m just sorry it’s taken so much out of you.”

She didn’t care about the praise.
She acted as if she hadn’t heard him. “There’s something else.”

“What?”

“That pyramid. You need to begin
excavations on it right away.”

“Why?”

“Because I have a feeling that
the answer to this mystery lies in that temple.”

***

Debra Jo took Kathlyn back to
camp. She wasn’t feeling particularly well and Marcus wanted her to rest. Tony
went with the women, sticking close in the threatening jungle. A couple of
hours after her wild visions, Kathlyn was lying down on the mattress on the
floor that served as a bed for her and Marcus.

  She lay curled up, eyes closed,
as Debra Jo read aloud from an old World Geographic magazine with an article on
toads of the rainforest. Tony sat just outside the door on an old wooden chair,
dozing in the hot, still air. The man was exhausted. For the most part, the
camp was deserted and silent, perfect for siesta time, and a perfect time for
Kathlyn to recover her strength.

Debra Jo’s droning voice lulled
her into a fitfully light sleep. A dream filled her mind, one of creatures with
lionine bodies and fat, pug-like faces. Startled, and unwilling to have another
episode like she had earlier, Kathlyn woke herself up. Debra Jo was still
reading.

“Hey,” she said sleepily.

Debra Jo looked up from the
magazine. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. What’s going on
with you and Chris?”

Debra Jo calmly set the magazine
in her lap. “What makes you ask that?”

Kathlyn rolled onto her back,
gazing over at the woman she had met when they had both been freshmen in high
school. They had a long history together and she knew Debra Jo as well as she
knew herself. This ambiguous routine just wasn’t holding any water.