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Authors: John H. Cunningham

Maroon Rising (27 page)

BOOK: Maroon Rising
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There was a skull. Human.

Another skull.

Some kind of burial chamber?

Bats exploded around me, flopping around, then down through the hole—that explained the smell. And the scream from Ray that followed.

I searched around a moment longer and found some scratches in the stone but couldn’t decipher their meaning. I wasn’t sure whether the people—men, I assumed by the size of their skulls—had become trapped in here or were buried here.

I kicked the bones around—there wasn’t anything else there.

I had no idea whether these were Taino or Maroon remains, or how they came to be here. With one of the skulls tucked between my arm and chest like a football, I began to descend back toward the main tunnel.

The return down the chute was faster—a controlled slide more than a graceful exit. I dropped toward the opening—

“Watch out!”

I fell onto the floor of the cave, my light crashing and breaking against the stone floor, my legs buckling as I hit feet first.

“You okay?” Ray was on me with the light.

My arms and knees were bloodied, I‘d been half drowned, but I held fast to the dried-out skull. Ray spotted it and jumped back.

“What the heck?”

“Made a friend up there,” I said.

“That’s gruesome.” He shivered. “And we already found the treasure, why the hell did you do that—and bring that skull out with you?”

“Obfuscation, Ray. Obfuscation.”

“Meaning what?”

“You’re about to find out.”

T
he sound of voices could be heard long before we exited the cave—many voices, but one rose above the rest.

“Buck Reilly, where the fuck are you?”

“Someone’s anxious to see you,” Ray said.

“Do you recognize the voice?”

“Should I?”

“It’s Gunner.” Ray deflated instantly.

“It’ll be okay, Ray, just follow my lead. We never went into the water. Got it?”

He didn’t respond, staring out toward the cave opening.

“Ray? Do you understand?”

“I understand,” he said. “But what if he finds the mask?

“Forget the mask. You waited in the cave while I went up into the chute in the ceiling—you boosted me up there, right? We didn’t find anything of value, just a couple dead Indians.

“Now let’s go, it’s almost dark and we have a long hike back to Stanley.”

When we stepped back into the fading light of day, I was surprised—there was nobody waiting. Then I glanced to my right and saw several men gathered down by the first cave. To their surprise, we walked toward them.

I spotted uniforms—constables?

There were two other men, Cuffee included, also waiting for us.

Cuffee yelled into the first cave, and a moment later the bulk of Richard “Gunner” Rostenkowski ran from the opening like a crazed guerilla.

“Reilly! Get your ass down here!”

A slight wail came from Ray, who clutched my arm for a moment.

“Sorry, but that guy’s scary as they come,” he said.

“Follow my lead, Ray—see, there’s police here too, so don’t worry.”

After walking around a sinkhole and climbing over some rocks, we arrived at the first cave. Keith, Pierce, and the guide were standing there, all of them apparently unharmed. And Gunner was unarmed—a real surprise.

“These assholes said you were in this cave, Reilly, what the hell?” Gunner said.

“Aren’t you supposed to be out at Port Royal restoring some underwater structures?”

“Very funny—and was that you, fat boy, out there pretending to be your boss? Nice fake out.”

“How did you even know where we were, Gunner?”

“Mr. Reilly,” the older of the two constables said. “We have a cease and desist order—”

“Relax, fellas. I have desisted.” I tossed the skull up in the air toward Gunner. He bobbled and caught it, then his scowl became even more intense.

“What the hell’s this?”

“Old Taino burial tomb.” I paused and dropped my shoulders. “End of the line for me, Gunner. Those ovals on the petroglyph we found by Blue Mountain—the sketch you stole from me?” I glanced at the constables. “All it led to was some old bones.”

“Anything to do with the Morgan treasure is ours!” Gunner slammed the skull against the rocks and shattered it.

“Not that I care at this point, but wasn’t your permit exclusively for the designated area at Port Royal—”

“Sorry, asshole. We filed an injunction that covers the Morgan treasure, no matter where it’s found.”

“No court would provide a blanket permit to cover an entire—”

Gunner took two steps forward, ripped the manila envelope out of the younger constable’s hand, and shoved it under my nose.

“Take a look at this!”

I pulled the paperwork from the envelope and scanned it. Yes, it was signed by a court official, but it said that “any treasure pertaining to Henry Morgan’s return from Panama would be embargoed subject to a proceeding.”

“It just embargoes whatever’s found until proper ownership can be established—”

“That’s in the works, Reilly. After that bullshit fake letter and the millions we pissed away in that mudhole, the Jamaican government owes us!”

“I really don’t care, I’m done with this whole search.” I smirked. “
So
sorry I lost my bid to dive there.”

Gunner lunged at me—to the shock and surprise of the constables—but I was coiled and ready. I shoved the butt of my right palm straight into his nose and my left fist into his ribs—blood erupted through my fingers, and the big man’s knees buckled. I stepped back, satisfied.

The constables grabbed him—flailing about, screaming, and cursing me. Cuffee and the other man with him stepped closer, their eyes twitching with rage, Cuffee slapping a thick walking stick against his palm. I took a quick glance at the other man but didn’t recognize him as one of the three who’d attacked me and taken Nanny.

“You men stand down,” the older constable said, hand on his holster.

Gunner settled down and gave everyone an eerie smile.

“I won’t forget this, Reilly. Now, what the hell did you and your fat friend
really
find in the caves here?”

I shook my head. “We searched every single one and found nothing but a burial chamber.”

“Yeah, right. I saw the sketch from those rock carvings at Blue Mountain too. These caves are the exact—”

“Like I said, it must have just been a map to a Taino burial ground, or cave, I don’t really know. I’m done.”

“We’ll search them ourselves, don’t worry. Just remember our injunction, Reilly.” His voice was high because he was pinching his nose, which continued to drip blood.

“Good luck, asshole. Nothing here but rocks, bones, and bat shit. You’ll be right at home.”

I waved to my little group as Cuffee and the other brute circled closer.

“We’re out of here,” I said.

“And get the hell out of Jamaica, dammit!”

I stopped and pivoted on my heel.

“Where’s Nanny?”

“Huh?” Gunner said. “Last I saw her was on the Jamaican five hundred dollar bill. Aside from that, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I jerked my head toward Cuffee.

“And you don’t know anything about you and him beating up an old man, I suppose.” I turned to the constables and again nodded toward Cuffee. “The day before Colonel Grandy of Moore Town was beaten half to death, that man stood outside his house shouting threats so loud you’d have no trouble finding witnesses.” One of the constables jotted something in a notebook.

Gunner and I held a lethal stare, one I chose to break.

“As far as I’m concerned, there
is
no treasure. I’m heading back to Key West. You win, asshole. Now fuck off.”

Gunner’s shrill laugh followed us as we started across the valley. Fortunately, a full moon helped light our way as darkness fell. I turned to Professor Keith.

“Those must have been Gunner’s shots we heard earlier. What happened to his gun?”

“The constables confiscated their weapons and left them on the first hill, thank God.”

“Nothing in there?” Pierce said.

“Just that skull and ancient human remains. But most of the main tunnel had collapsed, so who the hell knows.”

My peripheral vision caught Ray fighting back a smile.

Nothing to smile about, yet.

T
he hike back was slow and brutal in the dark. It took twice as long, and by the time we reached the vehicles the men were disappointed over what they believed Ray and I had failed to find in the caves, hungry, and angry at the turn of events with Gunner, Cuffee, and the constables. As for whether or not my gamble to take the high road worked, we wouldn’t know until we knew.

It was that simple.

We descended the final hill. The batteries on our lights were nearly spent. The moon was nearly gone, the sky had clouded over, and by the look of the deep black horizon, a storm was coming.

Good. Hopefully it would soak Gunner and his goons.

That thought led me to Gunner reacting with a wisecrack when I threw Nanny’s kidnapping at him—if he had her, he wouldn’t have wanted to hide it from me, he’d say something non-incriminating that would rub my nose in it. That little insight made me even more worried. Gunner and Jack I could outthink, but I now had no idea who I was dealing with.

Gunner hadn’t had any scuba gear I could see, and his finding that submerged cavern was a long shot anyway. He’d have to see the mask or the opening in the roof of the chamber. The circle of knowledge about the caves was getting wider, too: our guide, Keith, Pierce, the constables, Gunner, Cuffee, and their other goon. When competitors and unfriendlies were close to a target, it was like lighting a fuse on a bomb. If the goods couldn’t be secured within forty-eight hours, the odds drastically increased that something would go wrong.

Another forty-eight-hour countdown.

Except Nanny’s clock was set to expire at three o’clock tomorrow.

The Jeep was now ahead, as was the guide’s pickup truck. Beyond them I saw the constable’s car and a black Land Cruiser that must be Gunner’s. The call of the abeng earlier had me worried, so I pulled open the driver’s door on the Jeep. The dome light lit and Stanley Grandy, who had been sound asleep, jerked up and grabbed for a stick he must have scrounged from the forest.

“It’s us, Stanley. Sorry to surprise you.”

With a hand on his chest, he lay back down in the passenger seat, which was reclined all the way back.

“Damn, boy, thought I was going to have to crush your skull.” He rubbed his eyes. “Did Cuffee and his crazy white partner find you? Or the constables?”

“They all did, but we didn’t have anything for them other than some harsh words.” He held my gaze and I pumped my eyebrows once. “I’m going to check their car, then we’ll get out of here.”

Everyone else piled gear in the back of the guide’s truck, but I continued down the path to Gunner’s vehicle. The doors were locked, but using my flashlight I could see pretty clearly what was—and wasn’t—in the storage area of the Rover. There was no treasure-hunting gear: no shovels, no scuba or climbing gear. Just some cases. Gun cases.

That was the Gunner I knew. His plan was simple: take the fruits of someone else’s labor by force, getting as little dirt on his hands in the process. Blood, however, wasn’t a problem. But if he went hunting inside that cave, he’d better be prepared to work. For once.

I was tempted to slash his tires but wanted him away from the caves, not stuck here.

Back at the Jeep, everyone had gathered around Stanley. Keith was explaining how when they heard the shots, they relocated to the opposite end of the cave system to draw the men away from Ray and me. I commended their thinking but still had to disappoint them when Stanley asked if I had found
anything
.

“Nothing in those caves but some old bones.”

Everyone’s face sagged again except Ray’s, whose eyes flickered in the last of the moonlight. Stanley said he’d ride with the guide back to Keith’s car down in Accompong.

“But first I need to tell you something, Buck, so take a walk with me,” he said.

I glanced up the hill to make sure there were no flashlights coming our way, and we walked to the back of the Jeep.

BOOK: Maroon Rising
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ads

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