Exotic #02 - The Hieroglyphic Staircase (25 page)

He heard her thoughts.

“Move over.” He barked the command. “Don’t try anything funny when I pass. You know what will happen.”

Elena smiled a sweet, lopsided smile as half her face was puffy. “I promise I won’t try anything but remember you still don’t know which step.”

He stopped before her and pointed the gun at her head. “There aren’t that many left. I could just tear out the whole top of the pyramid.”

“That would take a long time.” She maintained her false smile. “It’s a little further up. Why don’t you go on? When you get to the step I’ll tell you.”

Jorge studied her, trying to guess what her game was.

She waited, not sure what he would do.

Without comment, he turned and went around her, giving her wide berth. The steps were more fragile and uneven toward the center of the stairs, and large gaps existed between some glyphs. She prayed he’d lose his footing.

He didn’t. And he was far enough away she couldn’t reach him. Elena calculated how long she could delay in telling him where the correct step was.

Miguel watched from his perch on a step higher up. Jorge was now midway between the two of them. He had miscalculated. It would be impossible for him to keep the gun trained on both of them at the same time. That thought must have occurred to him in the same instant because he stopped climbing and looked down at her.

Miguel saw his opportunity and bolted. Running up the rest of the stairs like a nimble mountain goat, he disappeared over the top of the pyramid.

When Jorge jerked around to see what Miguel was up to, Elena flew into action, lunging up the stairs, grabbing the man’s left ankle, and yanking with all her might. His fast swivel to see Miguel had changed his center of balance. His weight was on the right leg, and when Elena yanked his left, his footing faltered. In one instant he was on one leg in a poor imitation of a ballet pirouette. In the next instant he was airborne, flapping his arms in a wild try to right his balance, to keep from keeling over backward.

The surprise on his face changed to anger when he realized what was happening. He pointed the gun in Elena’s direction and fired.

In the same instant Elena plastered herself against the steps. She could hear the whistle of the bullet, as it zinged past her ear. Then she scrambled, not waiting for the next shot, catching an image of Jorge twisting and crashing backwards down the steps. She reached the top steps of the pyramid, jumped over the rubble, and looked back to see what had happened to Jorge.

He had landed in a sprawl at the bottom, arms askew. She couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead. She hoped that Miguel was on his way back to town for help because she was giving out fast.

* * * * *

Dominic and Paco had almost reached the end of the trail to the ruins when Miguel came barreling from the direction of the Archaeological Park.

“Miguel,” cried Dominic, when he realized what was flying at them. “Wait up. It’s me, Dominic.”

The child stopped before him, panting hard, looking like a pack of jaguars was chasing him.

“Help, please help,” Miguel said between breaths. “Elena is at the Staircase with that man, and he has a gun. I heard a shot. He is going to kill her. I ran for help.” He pulled Dominic’s hand in the direction from which he had come.

Dominic broke into a run to keep up with Miguel, throwing all his effort into running as fast as he could. He could hear Paco’s footsteps pounding behind him.

They reached the clearing, and Miguel stopped.

“They aren’t there,” he said and pointed in the direction of the top of the Staircase. “Look. Someone is at the bottom. It looks like that man.”

Paco and Dominic exchanged glances.

Paco pulled out his gun. “Wait here,” he said. “Let me go first.” He held the gun up in the air and advanced cautiously toward the prone body.

“Elena is gone,” Miguel said in a small voice.

Dominic dropped to a crouch in front of Miguel and clasped his arms. “Where was she the last time you saw her?”

Miguel pointed to the top of the pyramid. “On the stairs. She said she knew the hiding place and was taking the man to it.”

“Hiding place?” Dominic said. “What hiding place?”

Miguel shrugged his shoulders covered by a soggy T-shirt. “I don’t know. She said somewhere on the Staircase. That man thinks there’s a hiding place. He made us come here in the storm to find it.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dominic caught movement of a figure on the trail behind them. He turned, hoping it was Elena. But it was José. Strangely enough, he was pointing a gun at them.

José said, “Now you are going to tell me where the hiding place is.”

“What are you doing?” Dominic stood up, holding fast to Miguel’s hand.

“Don’t come any closer,” said José.

“What do you mean? I thought you were a policeman,” said Dominic. A new surge of adrenalin fired through his veins.

“I am. Just not an honest one.” He gestured to Miguel. “We’re going to that hiding place.”

“I don’t know where it is,” said Miguel. “Elena wouldn’t tell the man where it was. She said she had to show him.”

“Then we’d better find Elena,” said José. He stepped to one side, peering through the trees. “Where is Paco?”

“He went to the Staircase,” Dominic said. “There’s someone lying at the bottom.”

“It’s that stupid Jorge,” said José. “He bungles every job. I don’t know how he ended up in this operation. I hope he’s dead. That will put an end to his bungling.”

“Is Paco in this with you?” asked Dominic.

José shook his head. “No, Paco is an honest man. I hope nothing bad happens to him. So keep that in mind. All I want to know is where the hiding place is.”

“Is that what this has been about? A hiding place?” asked Dominic.

José nodded his close shaved head. “Yes. The hiding place. The guy that got killed knew where it was, but Jorge killed him before he showed anybody. Dumb bastard’s always going off like that.”

He pointed the gun at Miguel. “Where’s Elena?”

“I don’t know. She ran away, I think.”

José said, “Then we’d better find her.”

* * * * *

Elena came to, lying sprawled in the rubble at the back of the Staircase pyramid. Rain pattered on her face and cooled the heat and swelling of her cheek. She opened one eye and looked into the trees overhead. They moved fitfully in the wind, but it was far from the ferocious fury of the night before. She was very, very tired. She wanted to close her eyes and sleep right there on the hard rubble. Something nagged at her consciousness as she drifted. Weird figures and shapes swirled around in her mind. She wanted to sleep. But there was something she had to do. There was something she had to do, if she could just remember.

She struggled to sit up. Sharp rocks bit into her back and legs. She winced and eased into a sitting position. Then she remembered. Miguel had escaped, and Jorge had crashed to the bottom of the stairs. She half crawled the few feet to the top of the pyramid and peered over the rocks.

Jorge lay at the bottom, not moving. To her surprise, a man was standing over him. Elena ducked down so she couldn’t be seen. Who was he? She had no idea whose side he was on.

One thing was certain -- she wasn’t going to try to figure it out. Chances were it was one of Jorge’s friends come to help him. She would head back to town on the main road. Maybe someone would be out now that the hurricane was weakening, and they would help her.

She didn’t want to be seen while she was in the Park, so she eased out of the rubble, taking care not to make a sound. The best way to stay hidden was to go around the outside perimeter of the great plaza. Trees hung over the stone step structures that formed the outer walls. Staying hidden would be easier. She didn’t want to chance walking out into the open courtyard dotted with stelae and debris. Her path would be in the opposite direction from the jungle path.

Then she heard something that didn’t fit. Were there voices?

Crouching behind the half-ruined wall adjoining the rubble, she listened but couldn’t tell from what direction the sound was coming. She peeked over the top of the wall, trying to see. The only sound was the wind in the trees, and water dripping everywhere.

She was sure she heard voices. She listened. Maybe it was only her imagination.

From her high perch she gazed over the valley beyond the ruins. An angry brown slash scoured its way through the greenness of the jungle. The river had spread far out of its banks and was more like a huge lake than a river. Elena cursed her luck. It flowed under the road back to town. She might not be able to get across. She might not be able to find help, if she went this way.

She leaned her head against the hard stone of the wall. Exhaustion dogged her every thought. Every cell in her body ached. Even thinking was painful.

A sound like a gunshot cracked through the stillness. Then a scream.

She had to get out of there.

* * * * *

Keeping an eye on Paco, José forced Dominic and Miguel to walk within the shelter of the trees bordering the clearing. Jorge was either dead or beyond repair because Paco got up and walked toward the jungle path where he expected to find Dominic and Miguel waiting. José motioned them up the path to the top of the Temple of Inscriptions, up the path where the murder had taken place. Tall, skinny trees and brush provided cover. They made it to the top where they could look out over the great plaza, the very spot Elena was headed the day she discovered the body.

Jorge’s body lay at the bottom of the Hieroglyphic Staircase. No one else was in sight. Dominic searched every available space for some sign of Elena. She might blend in easily with the waterlogged landscape. José stood slightly behind him. Miguel clutched Dominic’s hand.

José said, “Do you see her? I don’t. We’ll go to the back of the Staircase pyramid and search there.”

He motioned with the gun for Miguel to lead the way. Miguel stepped up three stairs that lead to the walkway between the two pyramids. The corridor stretched between the Temple of Inscriptions and the Staircase pyramid. To the left of the path vertical walls joined the two structures. Along the top where they walked was a stone path that served as a connecting link along the top of the walls.

Dominic followed Miguel, heavy footed and discouraged. He didn’t want to find Elena only to have her used by this crooked policeman. He hoped she had run far away. His bargain with God was not working out. There were too many obstacles. He was afraid he’d never see Elena alive again. There were too many guns involved, too many irrational people in possession of guns.

He looked up to see where they were heading and saw movement ahead on the path where a low wall jutted out. Just a flash of something. He wiped his forearm across his eyes to clear his vision. Things were blurred by rain and the unhappy wind that chased around the pyramids. He continued to watch the place where he thought he had seen something, trying to be discreet so José wouldn’t notice. If they found Elena and the hiding place, what would happen then?

He considered their alternatives. He had a gun in the backpack slung over his shoulder, but the gun was useless since he couldn’t access it. On the other hand, he was physically bigger than José. The smaller man stood between them and freedom. The image of Jorge’s body at the base of the Staircase flashed across his mind. Jorge had fallen. The same ugly fate might await José. If he could push José over the side, it was a long way down that stone wall. He’d have to overpower him and soon. Dominic stopped.

“What now? Do you see her?” asked José.

“I thought I saw something move over there,” said Dominic. He pointed in the direction of the movement he had seen. “Let’s walk over and see. Maybe it’s Elena. Maybe she’s hurt.”

José stretched his neck, stepping closer to Dominic, squinting into the distance. Where Dominic stopped, the path ran perilously close to the edge of the wall. José was on his left closest to the edge.

“Where? I don’t see anything,” said José. He glanced around maybe thinking Paco might be close by.

“There. I saw something behind that stone wall.”

Dominic raised his left arm to point, and in the same motion he shoved his elbow into the side of José’s head with all the force he could garner. Bone connected with bone. José tilted to the left, his right arm with the gun going up. A loud retort carried over the Park as the gun went off into the air. Dominic swiveled and, as the policeman fell backward toward the edge, brought his leg up into José’s chest.

José tried to catch Dominic’s foot but missed as his arms flailed wildly into nothing but air. The gun dropped in his struggle to gain his balance. He lost the struggle and pitched sideways down the steep wall, his scream piercing the air.

Dominic had fallen on his side at the edge of the wall, narrowly missing going over the edge himself. He pulled back from the precipice, crawling on hands and knees until he was back on the path. Miguel helped Dominic stand, brushing twigs and dirt from his clothes.

“
Fantastico
.” said Miguel. A huge grin spread across his face, and he gave two thumbs up.

Dominic hooked his fingers on his hips, trying to catch his breath, staring at the ground, oblivious to Miguel and his surroundings. He had never tried to harm someone before, and his capacity for violence shocked him. He had pushed a man to his death. Kill or be killed, the law of the jungle. He held onto Miguel’s shoulder and shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. They had to find Elena. Cupping his hands to his mouth, he shouted, “Elena, where are you? It’s Dominic. Where are you?”

He listened and Miguel did, too, both looking around the Park from their vantage point high above it. The sound of footsteps running caught Dominic’s ear, and he turned to see Paco come up the path from below.

“What happened?” Paco asked.

Dominic pointed to the body of José sprawled below. “He had a gun on us. I pushed him.”

Paco nodded. “I’ve had my doubts about him but couldn’t find any concrete evidence. He’ll wait. Let’s look for Elena.”

“She may have gone up over the pyramid like I did,” said Miguel.