The Mayan Resurrection (7 page)

Dominique winks. ‘I’m into handcuffs. Do you have any?’

‘Definitely.’ He removes the shackles from his belt, snapping them around her offered wrists. ‘Looks like you and me are gonna spend a few hours alone together.’

‘Sounds like fun. Think maybe we can get a room at the hotel? I’m hot, and I want to get out of these sweaty clothes. If you’re good, I’ll let you handcuff me to the bed.’

Magierski smiles. ‘Tell you what, how about if I—’

Whomp!
Dominique’s right foot snaps off the ground like a cobra, the tip of her shoe driving high into the man’s groin. As the soldier drops to his knees, the ball of her left foot smashes into Magierski’s face, snapping his head back.

The soldier collapses in a heap.

Elias searches Magierski’s belt for the handcuff keys. He tosses them at Dominique as three Mayan vendors drag the unconscious soldier’s body into the high grass.

A dozen more push the jeep off the side of the road and into a ditch.

Peter Mabus lies back in the dressing room chair, allowing his makeup man to finish dabbing at the dark circles beneath his eyes.

A knock and the dressing room door opens. Joseph Randolph enters, followed by a slight, gray-haired Caucasian in his late sixties. The nerdy-looking man wears wire-rimmed glasses and is dressed in a wool suit and black bow tie.

‘He’s had enough primping.’ Randolph ushers the makeup artist out and shuts the door. ‘Pete, this is Solomon Adashek, the man I was telling you about.’

Mabus sits up, his piggy eyes taking in the visitor. ‘No offense, Joe, but he looks more like my goddam CPA than a hired assassin.’

Solomon Adashek remains expressionless. ‘It only takes the strength of a child to pull a trigger, Mr. Mabus. The key
to eradicating one’s target is to get close without arousing suspicion. If you’d prefer to hire a goon, I’ll take my services elsewhere.’

‘No, you’ll do. The girl’s in the Yucatán, I’m sure Joe’s briefed you. I want her and the soldier who found her eliminated without a trace.’

Solomon nods, then leaves the dressing room, quietly closing the door behind him.

‘Creepy little shit, ain’t he?’

‘What’s important is that he’ll get the job done without complications,’ Randolph says. ‘Guy’s former CIA, as cold and unfeeling as a reptile. Spent a lot of time in the Soviet Union as a mole. Returned home after the Cold War ended and wigged out. Torched his mother’s home, killing her and her live-in nurse. Served six years and was released on parole. Bit of a pedophile, but he’s calmed down over the years.’

‘Maybe we ought to send him after Chaney?’

‘One step at a time, my friend. One step at a time.’

The nocturnal jungle is alive with humidity, and chirps, and the ghosts of the dead. Dense brush cuts Dominique’s ankles and lashes out at her neck. Mosquitoes buzz her ears. A flutter of wings takes the air overhead beneath the canopy of trees.

The heaviness of the woods presses in on her, whispering into her ear. She grips Elias Forma’s hand tighter, afraid she
will lose him in the darkness. And yet she feels safer here than she does in the real world, knowing that someone out there wants her dead.

Like it or not, you’re Alice in Wonderland, chasing a rabbit down its hole, and there’s no turning back now.

In time they come to a clearing. Dark-skinned Mayan elders squat around a campfire. Dominique recognizes the
H’Menes
, the same men who helped her and Mick climb down into the sacred well in Chichén Itzá six weeks earlier.

A lifetime ago …

The wise men are descendants of the
Sh’Tol brethren
, a sacred Mayan society that escaped the wrath of the Spaniards back in the fifteenth century.

Elias greets the frail, white-haired leader of the group with a hug. ‘Dominique, this is my grandfather, Ocela, the man you seek.’

Dominique extends her hand. ‘Hope you remember me, I’m a friend of Michael Gabriel. I need to speak to you about the Creation Myth.’

Ocela takes her hand in both of his, then speaks to Elias in a language she cannot comprehend.

‘My grandfather says he will do all he can to assist First-Mother.’

‘Now see, that’s why I’m here. Who’s First-Mother, and why is he calling me that?’

Ocela smiles a toothless grin, then touches her stomach.
Yaya ba’l.

Oh, God, he knows I’m pregnant, too? Did somebody send out notices?
Dominique feels light-headed. The sounds of the night
dissipate into the snapping and popping of the campfire as she swoons in the humidity.

Elias and the old man lead her to a log poised at the edge of the clearing. She sits, the other men gathering around. One offers her a flask of water, another a wooden bowl filled with fruits and berries. She drinks and eats, feeling a little better.

Still holding her hand, Ocela looks into her eyes and speaks, Elias translating.

‘The Creation Story is the most important lesson recorded in the
Popol Vuh
. The hero of the story is One Hunahpu, a brave warrior later revered as First-Father. One Hunahpu’s great passion in life was to play the ancient ball game known as Tlachtli. One day, the Lords of the Underworld,
Xibalba
, challenged One Hunahpu to a game, at stake—the future of his people. One Hunahpu accepted and entered
Xibalba Be
, the dark road that leads to
Xibalba
, said to have been the mouth of a great serpent.’

Dominique shudders, recalling the image of Mick entering the orifice of the alien being.

‘But the Lords of
Xibalba
had no intention of actually playing the game. Using trickery and deceit, they defeated One Hunahpu and decapitated him, hanging his head in the crook of a calabash tree as a warning to others who might challenge them.

‘After a great many years, a brave woman named Blood Moon ventured down the Dark Road. Approaching the tree to pick fruit, she was startled to find One Hunahpu’s head. The warrior’s eyes opened and he spit into her palm, magically impregnating her. The woman fled, the Death God and his minions unable to destroy her before she could escape.

‘Blood Moon, who is later revered as First-Mother, gave birth to twin sons. As the years passed, her boys grew into strong, capable warriors. Upon reaching adulthood, their genetic calling demanded they follow in their father’s footsteps and make the journey to
Xibalba
to challenge the Death God and avenge One Hunahpu’s death.

‘Once more, the Lords of the Underworld used cunning and deceit. But the Hero Twins, having prepared for this treachery, triumphed, banishing evil while resurrecting their long-lost father.’

Ocela smiles at her, again palming her stomach.

‘No, stop it, none of this makes any sense. The
Popol Vuh
is just mythology, it tells of things in the past. How can I possibly be First-Mother?’

Elias translates for his grandfather.

The old man rattles off a response.

‘The knowledge found in the
Popol Vuh
comes to us from our great teacher, Kukulcán. The
Popol Vuh
was recorded five hundred years after his passing. Time distorts the Creation Story, but not its ultimate meaning. What came to pass shall come again as the cycle of humanity repeats itself. One Hunahpu has come. He has delivered us from evil, sacrificing himself in the process. Now he awaits his sons in
Xibalba
.’

Dominique’s hand trembles within Ocela’s. He pats it with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he speaks again.

‘My grandfather says to have faith. You were chosen by One Hunahpu for your strength.’

‘If Mick really is this One Hunahpu character, then where is he now? How can I find
Xibalba
?’

‘The dark road to
Xibalba
shall appear before the Hero Twins in their twentieth year. Until then, it is your destiny as First-Mother to prepare them. Great challenges lie ahead. Allies of the Dark Lord will do everything in their power to stop you.’

Ocela stands, leading her to the edge of the clearing and a massive cypress tree. Bound and gagged to the trunk is Luke Magierski. The soldier is wearing only his boxer shorts and a tee shirt.

Dominique removes his gag.

‘Uh, thank God. Would you tell these Zulus that I’m American!’

‘Why were you after me?’

‘You’re Dominique Vazquez, Michael Gabriel’s woman. Everyone wants to speak with you.’

‘He’s lying,’ says Elias. ‘Who hired you to find Dominique?’

Magierski stares into the jungle. ‘Name, rank, and serial number, that’s all you’ll get from me. The United States doesn’t like it when you kidnap their soldiers. There’s fifteen thousand heavily armed men and women less than a dozen klicks from here who’ll napalm this entire jungle into a prairie dust if any harm comes to me.’

Ocela signals to his elders. Two of the men force Magierski’s jaw open, while a third jams a small piece of bamboo between the soldier’s upper and lower molars, preventing him from closing his mouth.

The fourth man appears with a wooden container. From within, he retracts an eighteen-inch centipede, its thick jet-black body sporting a yellow head and legs.

Dominique steps back. ‘Gross. What is that thing?’

Elias takes the animal from the elder. ‘It’s long name is Scolopendromorpha, a tropical species that flourishes in our jungles. Some of the larger ones feed on mice and lizards.’

‘They get bigger than that?’

‘Hmm. See these front legs? They’re called prehensors. They’re used to inject venom into their victims. Let’s see if our little friend here can persuade our brave American soldier to tell us what we want to know.’

Elias holds the wiggling centipede in front of Luke Magierski’s face. ‘This afternoon at the marketplace, you were acting on someone’s orders. Whose?’

The soldier looks away.

Two of the elders hold Magierski’s face steady while Elias positions the centipede’s yellow head in the soldier’s open mouth.

Magierski thrashes in his bonds, moaning and hissing and gagging as the repulsive creature wiggles its way into his mouth, blocking his airway as it moves down his esophagus.

Dominique turns away in disgust.

Elias leans in closer. ‘Six more inches and its tail disappears. When that happens, I can’t save you. It will crawl into your small intestines and lay its eggs. Three more inches … two more. If you have anything to say, say it now.’

Magierski nods vigorously, his eyes as wide as saucers, his face turning purple.

Elias carefully extracts the centipede, then removes the chunk of bamboo.

Magierski leans over and pukes.

‘Give us a name, or it goes back in, and this time, we’ll let it keep going until it crawls out your ass.’

‘Mabus. Peter Mabus. He placed a 2-million-dollar bounty on the girl’s head.’

Dominique turns to face him. ‘Why? What does that screwball want with me?’

‘I don’t know. He … he blames a lot of the doomsday stuff on Gabriel; guess you’re sort of lumped into his political campaign. He’s sending one of his men down from the States to collect you.’

‘More likely to kill you,’ Elias states. ‘Where were you and this man supposed to meet?’

‘I don’t know.’

Elias nods to the Mayan elders, who grab Magierski’s head.

‘No … wait, he’s meeting me tomorrow morning, at the commuter airport outside of Pisté.’

A Mayan elder returns the centipede to its wooden container. Elias shoves the gags back inside Magierski’s mouth as Ocela leads Dominique back to the campfire.

She watches as the elder carrying the wooden container skewers the centipede with a pointed stick, then roasts it over the open fire.

Elias winks at her. ‘Old Mayan delicacy. I prefer mine with butter.’

Dominique feels queasy.

‘Grandfather’s right. Enemies are everywhere.’

‘Maybe I should just stay here?’

‘Unfortunately, it’s not safe here either. Among the Mayans are cult members of Tezcatilpoca, practitioners of the Dark
Way. It was Tezcatilpoca who vanquished our great teacher, Kukulcán, more than a thousand years ago. Once these followers learn you are here, they won’t stop until they kill you and sacrifice you … in that order.’

‘Fine. I’ll return to the States tomorrow, but there’s one more thing I need to know before I leave. What is the Abomination?’

Elias struggles to translate.

Ocela listens, then becomes animated.

‘My grandfather says the Abomination is the Dark Lord in its human form. Legend says the Abomination is the origin of all human evil, reborn on the day of the Hero Twins’ birth.’