LC 02 - Questionable Remains (27 page)

"There's an opening ahead," said Piaquay.

He hurried through and dropped to the floor in a large cavern.
Just then the rocks began to shift and fall.

Roberto screamed. "I'm stuck!" he yelled.

Piaquay leaned the lit torch by the wall and climbed back into
the passage. He grabbed Roberto by the arms and pulled hard
while scrambling backward. Roberto yelled, partly from fear, partly from being pulled over the jagged rocks. He tumbled out onto
the floor of the cave.

"Thank you, my friend. That is the second time you saved me.
I will say a special prayer for you. "

Roberto hurt from head to foot. He saw that Piaquay, who was
mostly naked, was cut and bleeding. He wondered if any of the
cuts were on the elaborate tattoos, then wondered why that came
to his mind at a time like this.

"Are you injured?" asked Piaquay.

"Yes. No. I don't know. Let's keep going. I can walk, and I want
to get out of this place," he said.

The torch was burning low, and Piaquay lit another one. It was
the last. They continued onward.

Roberto saw the filtered light first and yelled, ran toward it,
and fell on his knees in the daylight outside the cave.

"You have done it, mi amigo," he said. "You found the way
out."

Piaquay looked at the crystal he held in his hand. "It was the
powerful scale of the Uktena," he said softly.

"What? What was?" Roberto looked at him, puzzled.

"This is the scale of the Uktena. Not as powerful as the crest,
but the crest could only be used by the owner. The scales, however . . ." He dropped the crystal into a pouch.

"You mean you were following that damn crystal to get us out
of the cave?" Roberto stood facing Piaquay, balling his hand into
a fist.

"Of course. How else could we know the way?"

"I thought you knew where you were going! I followed you
because I thought you knew what you were doing!"

"I have never been in the cave. How could I know the way
out?"

"I don't know. I thought it was a talent that Indians have, like
your ability to track."

"We learn how to track from our mothers' brothers. They don't
teach us how to travel through caves."

"But a crystal! We might not have gotten out! We could still be
wandering around in that cave!"

"But we are not. We are here. And now we must find Nayahti
and Kinua. We are finished with Calderon. I can go home."

Roberto raised his eyes to heaven as he and Piaquay went in
search of their comrades-Nayahti the trader, and Kinua the
apprentice warrior, and the braves Quanche and Minque. They
had to walk two hours to find them, taking a trail to the village
and backtracking to the cave.

"We are relieved," said Nayahti when he saw them. "Kinua and
I heard the thunder in the mountain. We went in the cave to look
for you and the way was blocked. Where is Tesca?" Piaquay gave
Nayahti and Kinua a long narration of the events in the cave.
Roberto shifted impatiently throughout the story, understanding
it mostly because he knew what had happened.

"So the devils are dead?" said Nayahti.

"They are dead, and the others are retreating back to their village on the coast, but I learn as I talk to Roberto that the devils
across the water have many clans that fight over what the others
have. I fear that more will come."

Piaquay turned to Roberto. "You are welcome to come and live
with us."

Roberto looked at him, wondering if the Indian had some sense
that allowed him to see his doubts about returning to his people in
Spain.

"I'll walk with you for a ways, if I may, and decide what to do
on the journey. Right now I'm very tired."

Lindsay jerked awake. She felt panic, but didn't know why
at first. Then she saw her flashlight. It was on. She had been
asleep. Oh, God, how long have I been asleep? Please don't let the
batteries be dying. She lit a candle from her bag and turned
off the flashlight. How could I do that when I've been through so
much? How could I leave the flashlight burning?

In the glow of the candlelight and with trembling hands
she made preparations to continue her journey. There was
no way she could carry water. The best she could do was
wet the handkerchief again and carefully wrap it in the aluminum foil, creasing the edges tight. She put it gently in one
of the side pockets of her backpack.

The way through the tunnel was tight. She had to crawl
on her hands and knees most of the way. Her legs cramped
as she tried to stoop and walk and keep her knees off the
rocky floor of the cave. The passage was narrowing the farther along she went. She tried not to worry about that. She
tried to keep focused on going forward. The passage made
a sharp incline upward. Although it was hard traveling, it
gave Lindsay a sense of optimism. Abruptly, with the next
step, her head peeked out into a chamber and, like a little
mouse, she scrambled out a small hole onto the floor of a
large room. The hole she emerged from was next to a wall
cluttered with breakdown.

Lindsay turned on her flashlight and extinguished her
candle. To her horror, the light flickered and went out.

"Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no," she whispered. "Please, God, no."

She sat on the floor and fumbled in the darkness with her
pack, found the matches, and relit the candle. What now?
Batteries, I have extra batteries, she remembered with relief.
She grabbed them out of the pack and opened the back of
the flashlight. They were the wrong size. Her heart sank.
She started to cry.

Maybe it's the bulb. She found the extra bulb and
unscrewed the front of the flashlight case and then the bulb.
The new bulb fit. She screwed the cap back on the flashlight
and pressed the button. The light came on brightly. She
sighed with relief and quickly gathered the things back into
her pack.

Lindsay shone the light around the chamber. It looked
like many she had been in and was about as large as her
house back in Georgia. She walked, shining the light, looking for a passage, and came to a large pile of breakdown.
The beam from her light rested on a hand.

It startled her at first, but she saw immediately that it was
mummified. She kneeled, examining it with her light. It
looked like a male hand. That was all she could tell. Caught
in a cave-in, she thought. She didn't tarry. She rose and
began looking for a passage. She saw an opening on the
other side of the chamber. She almost ran to it. She had to
hurry. She had no idea how long the batteries would last.

As she approached the entrance, the beam rested on a
head. She flinched, then walked over to it. The dryness of
the cave had mummified the body. It was that of another
male who had been caught in the cave-in. Its lower half was
covered in rubble. She knew from the earspools and tattoos
that this was an Indian. The skin under the tattoos was better preserved. Lindsay put the age to be the Mississippian
period. Odd, she thought, I didn't think that the Mississippians
used caves. Then she realized this was the first fleshed-out
Mississippian Indian she had ever seen. She wished she had
a camera. The Indian once had a head of long hair. There
were still many locks left. His chest was damaged. She
examined it with the beam. Rodents? No, the gnawing would
have been more extensive. He was shot, she thought. Lindsay
looked back over toward the other body. She couldn't afford
to tarry, as interesting as the puzzle was. She hurried
through the passage. Slow down, she said to herself. I can't
slow down. I don't know how long the batteries will last.

She did slow to a comfortable walk. Suddenly she was
brought up short when her beam rested on a large engraving
of a winged serpent. It was very similar to the many she had
seen carved on shell and copper gorgets. This one, however,
was about three feet long and about two feet tall and was
carved into a large stone. Beside the stone was another opening. She gave the carving a brief look as she passed and
ducked into the cave. She found more mummies. Two lay
close together and had pieces of wood protruding from
them-arrows. They were dressed in smooth dome-shaped
crested helmets and fabric clothing. She recognized the helmets as sixteenth-century Spanish conquistadores! Neither
wore armor, she noted. One was shot through the neck, the
other in the side and in the leg. Two oval shields stood
against the wall. The remains of burned torches lay near
their hands. Their swords were still sheathed. She was in the
midst of the archaeological find of the New World! And lost.

Farther ahead in the small room was another body,
dressed like a conquistador, with his back against the wall.
His arms clutched something to his breast. Lindsay gently
moved the mummified fingers and revealed a large quartz
crystal. The unfortunate man had been killed by an arrow to
the chest.

The man was surrounded by pots filled with quartz crystals. She picked up one and stuffed it into her pocket. I'm a pot
hunter, she thought. A large broken clay vessel lay amid what
looked like the remains of a hide of some sort. It reminded
her of something, maybe some story. She couldn't remember.

It looked like the conquistadores had been caught stealing. Lindsay wished she had the leisure to investigate further, but she had to get out. She looked for an opening, but
there was none. She had to backtrack out to the cavern.
What if the room was sealed? What if she had come to a
dead end? What if her end was here with this dead
Mississippian Indian and the Spanish conquistadores?
Ironic end for a southeastern archaeologist.

No, she wouldn't think like that. She went out to the main
cavern and searched for an opening, shining her light over
the walls. She found one, not large, but it was an opening.
She walked through it, ducking her head, then backed out,
shining the light around the entrance. There was a round
dark smudge about the height of her head. She touched it
with her fingers, then rubbed it. A faint gray soot came off
on the tips of her fingers.

"Smoke," she said aloud, but didn't linger. She went back
through the passage. It was small, with the now familiar
scallops and tight curves indicating the fast passage of
water. It was not a long passage and ended at a pit.

"Oh, no," she said aloud. "Not another canyon. I can't do
it. I can't."

She almost collapsed, defeated. She was so tired. She very
carefully took out the foil she had wrapped her wet handkerchief in, opened an end, and carefully squeezed a few
drops of water into her mouth. It was so good. She wanted
to drink more. Instead she resealed the foil and put it back
into the pocket of the backpack. She picked up the flashlight
and looked at the canyon.

It was a pit. It didn't rise as high as the gigantic shaft she
had already climbed, and it wasn't as deep. Moreover, there
was a ledge wide enough to cross and a tunnel almost on
the other side of the pit. Lindsay took a deep breath and
stepped out onto the ledge. It wasn't nearly as scary as the
last one. She walked slowly and carefully to the other side.
Near the entrance to the passage was the same round patch
she had seen before, smoked onto the rock. The passage is
marked. Lindsay clapped her hand to her mouth. The way out
is marked.

Don't get too excited, she told herself. It could be only these
two or it could mean something else entirely. But she couldn't
suppress the optimism, and she enjoyed the feeling.
Lindsay entered the passage recharged. It was similar to the
last and sloped gently upward. Before long she came to a choice. She could continue to go forward, off to the left, or
to the right. She shone her light around the entrance to each
opening. There it was. The sign on the passage to the left.
She walked onward, almost racing, ignoring aching muscles
and hurting joints, stinging cuts and scrapes. Lindsay stumbled a few times, but caught herself before she fell. Slow
down. Don't make a mistake this late. You've come too far.

She was in a maze again, she realized, but each passage
was marked. She hardly considered any other passages.
Briefly, she had a panicked thought that perhaps the marks
were leading to something deeper into the cave, but she had
to believe that it was a way out, or she would simply lie
down and die right here.

Lindsay was skeptical of the last choice. The passage
looked smaller, but it was marked and she took it. Rocks frequently rolled out from under her, and she almost fell several times, catching herself with her hands. Her hands had
never been so sore.

She came to a place where she could go no farther. The
way was too small. Lindsay screamed in frustration,
clutched a rock, and threw it through the opening. "This
isn't fair," she cried. "This isn't fair."

She took her flashlight and examined the opening. It was
small. Very small. If she took off her pack, she might be able
to fit. How would she get it through? She couldn't leave her
pack, and if she put it through first, she might not be able to
get it back. She took out the fishing line again and tied it to
the backpack. She also took off the belt with the flashlight
and belted it to the pack. She wrapped the fishing line
around her hand and pushed the pack ahead of her. She
crawled after it.