Bones of the Sun God Read online

  “You okay?” Mary asked.

  Sam lay sprawled on his back in a ditch that ran along the base of the fence, but the rubber suit had cushioned the impact.

  “That’s the ditch I warned you about.”

  Sam didn’t care. He was listening for the sounds of running feet.

  Mary, sensing his thoughts again, said, “No one heard you.”

  “Now what?” Sam whispered.

  “Now it gets a little difficult.”

  Sam didn’t know if he felt like laughing or crying.

  “Move along the ditch,” Mary said. “The car that came past you stopped at the gate. The man in it was sent to back up the guard on the gate. You’re going to have to get past two sets of eyes.”

  Sam was already in a crouch, moving toward the gate. He listened to Mary and tried to imagine what Azeem was doing. He’d know Sam had escaped by now, but he wouldn’t know where to. Sending a man to the front gate had to be a precaution; otherwise he would have been there himself.

  “The man in the car. Can you see if he has a scar on his face?” Sam asked.

  “He doesn’t,” Mary answered.

  Her tone was definite, and Sam realized the surveillance technology she had tapped into was state-of-the-art.

  The ditch was empty, and Sam made good time along it. On the other side of the car park, he could see the firemen packing their gear away. They would be gone soon. Sam had to beat them out.

  The front gate was just ahead. The light in the guard booth cast a glow over the two men standing by the barrier arm. One of them was in blue overalls; the other looked like he’d just gotten out of bed, which he probably had.

  Sam crept forward until he was near the ring of light coming from the guard booth. He stopped and waited. He knew Mary was watching, so he didn’t bother speaking, but he was dying to ask about her plan for getting the men away from the exit.

  The sounds of the firemen drifted across the car park. The two guards were talking quietly. There was a crackling sound, and the man in blue overalls pulled a walkie-talkie off his belt and said something in Spanish. It had to be Azeem asking if they had seen anything. Sam looked up into the night sky, hoping Mary could still see him.

  “I’m going to distract them, Sam. You need to be ready to go through the gate.”

  Sam got to his feet and edged forward. A fire truck started up, but Sam kept his eyes on the two men and waited for Mary’s distraction. When it finally happened, it wasn’t as dramatic as he’d expected. Both men turned and stared down the fence line on the other side of the gate. They spoke in hushed tones then ran off.

  Sam didn’t wait for Mary’s signal. He sprinted along the ditch to the guard booth, jumped up onto the concrete, and ducked under the barrier.

  He’d done it.

  Just as that thought entered his mind, disaster struck. As he got back to his feet on the other side of the barrier, his phone slipped from his hand and skidded across the concrete and into the ditch on the other side of the road. Sam stopped and spun around, following the noise of the phone.

  He looked down the fence line for the two guards. In the darkness, all he could see was a thin beam of red light bouncing around. Then a truck roared to life, and the first fire engine swung slowly toward the exit. Its headlights caught the two guards at the fence line, standing by an empty car. They turned to head back to their post just as the fire engine’s lights lit up the guard booth and a boy in black rubber.

  Sam ignored the shouts of the men as he went for his phone. The fire engine’s headlights had shown him where it was. He slid down into the ditch and grabbed it, then scrambled back up and under the barrier. As he got to his feet, Mary yelled into the earpiece.

  “Run straight across the field.”

  “Why?”

  “Just do it,” Mary said.

  With the phone still stuck to his ear, Sam ran across the road. If there had been a fence or ditch, it would have been all over, but the ground was flat, the dirt was smooth and firm. As he sprinted on through the darkness, Sam could hear a man shouting behind him.

  “Now what?” he puffed into the phone.

  “Keep going. On the other side of the field is a hill. There are trees on it. Look for a red light. Run straight for it and you will avoid hitting anything.”

  There was no time to ask what was going on, so Sam just ran. He glanced back once to see the lights of the fire truck heading down the road. As it faded away, he made out the sound of a man thumping across the field behind him.

  He was getting closer.

  “You’re nearly at the hill,” Mary said.

  Sam made out the incline ahead. His feet started hitting small bushes and weeds.

  “Can you see the red light?” Mary asked.

  “Yes,” Sam said. The flashing pinprick looked as if it were in the sky. The hill got steeper, and Sam began to slow down. He could hear the heavy breathing of the man behind him.

  “Run faster, Sam!” Mary urged.

  Sam tried, but his strength was fading. The thick rubber suit wasn’t helping. The joints were stiff, and its weight made it feel like he was carrying someone on his back.

  “When I say stop, I want you to drop to the ground, okay?” Mary said.

  Sam couldn’t imagine what Mary had planned, but he couldn’t keep his pace up, and he was grateful for the excuse to stop. He ran on, waiting for Mary’s signal, first expectantly, then desperately.

  Finally, she gave the command.

  Sam dropped to the ground with his pursuer only a few steps behind. He could hear his feet crashing through the undergrowth. Sam lay there, defenseless. He rolled onto his back and saw the silhouette of the man looming over him. Suddenly, the red beam hit the man’s face. For a second, Sam made out his features—curly hair, thick, bushy eyebrows, and a wide, flat nose—then the man threw his hands to his eyes and howled in pain.

  “Sam!” Mary’s voice called from the phone. “Get up, keep going.”

  Sam rose unsteadily. Staring up the hill, he spotted the red pinprick of light again and stumbled on up the steep rise. Behind him, he could hear the man howling.

  Then the light went out.

  “Sam,” Mary said.

  “What?” Sam said into the phone.

  “Sam,” she said again. But her voice wasn’t coming from the phone. Somehow she was speaking to him from the ground in front of him. When the hand grabbed his arm, he yelped pathetically.

  “Sam,” Mary said again. “It’s me.”

  “What?” Sam couldn’t see a thing in the darkness, and he couldn’t believe his ears. “How . . . how can you be here?” he said, reaching out and grabbing his friend. Before he could say anything else, another cry of anguish drifted up the slope.

  “We should get going,” Mary said.

  “What did you do to him?” Sam asked, still gasping for breath.

  “A high-powered laser pointer,” Mary said, holding out a small metal cylinder. Sam’s eyes were adjusting to the dark, and he could just make it out.

  “I didn’t think anyone would follow you up the hill,” continued Mary. “I had to aim it at his eyes. You’re not supposed to do that. It says so in the instruction book.”

  “I’m kinda glad you did,” Sam said. “I wondered what had gotten the guards’ attention in the parking lot?”

  “Yeah. I aimed it at the wing mirror of the car so they couldn’t tell where it was coming from. Pretty neat, eh?”

  “Pretty neat. I still can’t believe you’re here. How did you do it?”

  “I’ll explain when we’re safe. The blindness won’t last long,” Mary said. “We need to get going.”

  Halfway down the hill, Sam could just make out the guard, who was now sitting on the ground, still clutching his eyes.

  He looked out toward Xibalba. The fire trucks had gone, but there were more men in the car park.

  “This way,” Mary called out.

  Sam turned to see his friend heading up the hill and, with a hundr
ed questions forming, he followed after her.

  15

  DEAD END

  THE ADRENALINE PRODUCED BY HIS escape drained away as Sam followed Mary over the hill and down the other side. It was the hardest walk of his life. In the darkness, he had trouble picking his way between the trees and rocks. Twice he tripped. Each time he treasured the few seconds on the ground before Mary pulled him back to his feet. After the second fall, she stayed behind him, guiding him to the bottom of the hill with short, stern commands until they came to a large tree. Behind it was a motorcycle.

  “We’re nearly home, Sam,” Mary said as she removed the branches covering the bike. “I know you’re exhausted. You just need to hold it together for a little longer. Take off that wet suit and we’ll get out of here.”

  Sam dumped the suit behind the tree and then Mary started the bike. The noise of the engine sounded like the world had exploded around Sam, but even that couldn’t break him out of the trancelike state he had slipped into. In the glow of the headlight, Mary mounted the bike and motioned to Sam to get on. She steered them carefully along a small track and up onto a road.

  The journey into Orange Walk was a blur for Sam. He held on to Mary as they sped toward town, the wind whipping his face. Mary left the bike in an alley, and then they walked. Or Mary walked and Sam stumbled, held up by her steadying hand. The last thing Sam remembered was Mary fumbling with a key and opening a door. A streetlight lit up the small room, and Sam saw a bed. He took five slow steps forward and crashed onto the musty bedspread. He was asleep before Mary had shut the door.

  THE CROCODILE SCREAMED LIKE A boy as it charged Sam. The jaws parted, the screams grew louder, and then a face appeared at the back of its mouth. Sam was staring at himself in the crocodile. Suddenly, the face blurred, and the creatures rearranged themselves. Now it was Mary’s face staring out at Sam. She wasn’t screaming; she was saying his name.

  “Sam, wake up.”

  He opened his eyes to find Mary hovering over him, lit from behind by a dazzling orange glow. As his eyes adjusted, Sam remembered where he was. It was daytime, and the sun was beating hard against the thick orange curtains. The glow around Mary stung Sam’s eyes, and he put an arm over his face.

  “Sorry for waking you. But you were having a nightmare.”

  Sam didn’t speak. He lay there replaying the crazy events of the last twenty-four hours. Then with a rush he came back to the present. “How did you . . .”

  Mary laid a hand on Sam. “I know you have a lot of questions, so just lie there and I’ll give you some answers. Then you can tell me how you ended up trapped in a crocodile park.”

  Sam smiled. “Deal,” he said.

  “I was always coming to Belize with you.” Mary leaned back and rolled her eyes theatrically. “As if I would let you have this adventure all to yourself.”

  “But what about your father and Bassem?”

  “Exactly,” Mary said. “It took some planning on my part. The ski trip to Switzerland was fake. I couldn’t tell you that because I wasn’t sure if I was being monitored or not.”

  “What do you mean, fake?”

  “Well, let’s see,” Mary said. “I created a series of daily e-mail updates that will come from an e-mail server in Switzerland. I have Photoshopped a heap of images of me skiing, which I will also drip feed to my father and Bassem. And I have arranged for charges to go on my credit card, from Switzerland, which my father will see.”

  “That’s impressive,” said Sam. “When you told me you were going to be able to watch me in the parking lot, I imagined you had gotten access to a spy satellite or something. I had no idea you’d be watching me from the hill.”

  “I know. It was good timing,” Mary said. “When I spoke to you yesterday, before you went to Xibalba, I was in Houston, on my last stopover. I was going to tell you then, but I decided to wait and surprise you. I got in late. There were no rooms at your hotel, so I came here. But then I couldn’t wait till the morning, so I called. Lucky I did, eh?”

  Sam nodded. “It’s good to have you here. I’m not sure how I would have escaped if it hadn’t been for you.” The image of Elio flashed into Sam’s mind. He sat up and threw the blanket off.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Elio, the boy who was locked up with me. I have to help him.”

  “That’s okay, you stay there.” Mary got up and retrieved the cordless phone and phone book from the table next to the bed. “I’ll look up the number for the police station while you tell me what happened to you.”

  Sam told Mary about the show at Xibalba, the trip to the scrap yard, being arrested, and being taken to Felix. She sat there shaking her head. “I’m so sorry, Sam,” she finally said. “I had no idea what I was sending you into. I feel terrible.”

  Sam shrugged. “It wouldn’t matter so much if I had learned something useful.”

  “But you have.”

  “What? We started with a World War Two sub. Now we have hidden gold, 2012 and the end of the world, the Maya, the Olmecs, and a madman who controls crocodiles and thinks I can lead him to more gold.” Sam felt his frustration growing. “I don’t understand how any of this fits together, and I’m no closer to finding my parents.”

  “That’s not true, Sam,” Mary said. “You found a man who met them. We know we are on their trail, and your mother’s notes on the Mayan calendar and the end of the world in 2012 is interesting. Perhaps your parents discovered the 2012 prediction was linked to the pyramid network?”

  Sam shrugged. “Felix Ramos says the link between the pyramids of Egypt and Lamanai is just a story. He thinks my parents were just after his gold.”

  “But we know that’s not true,” Mary said. “If we stay on their trail, we will find answers.”

  Sam wanted to feel encouraged, but it was easy for Mary; she’d just flown in. He had been behind the eight ball since the moment he’d arrived. She was right about one thing: he was tired. He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep, but it wasn’t enough. As he lay there on the bed, his eyelids felt heavy again.

  Mary spoke softly as she laid the blanket back over him. “Get some more rest, Sam. Don’t worry about your friend. I’ll make an anonymous call to the police station about him.”

  Mary’s words floated through Sam’s mind as he drifted into darkness again. Somewhere deep down inside him, something stirred, a distant voice, warning him, but he was too tired to figure it out. He fell asleep again.

  WHEN HIS EYES POPPED OPEN, Sam had no idea how much time had passed. An hour? Longer? He sat up and Mary, who was still sitting on the end of the bed, spun around.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “How long was I asleep?”

  Mary snorted. “Only about twenty minutes.” She turned to reveal the phone stuck to her ear. “I’m calling the police station about your friend.”

  “Hang up,” Sam said, reaching for the phone.

  Mary jumped off the bed, still holding the phone to her ear. “Sam, what’s wrong?”

  “The police. Some of them work for Ramos.”

  Mary laughed. “It’s okay. I won’t give my name or any details. The lady has just asked me to wait on the line while she gets someone more senior.”

  Sam thought back to the woman at reception when he had visited the station, and he went cold. “They’re tracing your call. Hang up!”

  The smile left Mary’s face. She stared at the phone as if it were about to attack her, then pushed the call end button and tossed it onto the bed. She looked at Sam, ashen-faced. “Are you sure?”

  Sam leapt out of bed. “Get your stuff. We need to go.”

  They were out of the room in two minutes. Sam was pleased to see that Mary traveled light, with just a small day pack. She led him down a driveway beside the motel that led to a parking lot and a shabby swimming pool. On the other side of the parking lot was the alley where Mary had left the bike. It was hidden under an old tarpaulin behind a large Dumpster.

  “What sha
ll we do?” Mary asked.

  Sam looked up and down the alleyway. They had a good view of the motel and were concealed by the Dumpster. And with the motorbike, they had a good escape route if they needed it.

  “Let’s wait here and see what happens,” Sam said.

  Mary pointed the bike down the alley for a fast getaway, and they stepped behind it to watch the motel. Neither of them spoke. The midmorning sun had warmed the metal lid of the Dumpster, and Sam felt the heat radiating off it onto his face. He leaned on the fence and shut his eyes. It was a mistake—a wave of tiredness swept over him. He popped his eyes open to see Mary watching him.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Just tired,” Sam replied. He stepped up beside her and focused on the driveway beside the motel again. He hoped he was wrong. A tired, overworked imagination. Phone tracing—they only did that in the movies, didn’t they? He wondered how long they should wait before going back to the room.

  “You know, Sam, even if this turns out to be a dead end, we still had to come and have a look for ourselves. It doesn’t mean the search for your parents is over.”

  Sam looked at Mary, but she kept staring straight ahead at the motel.

  “Why are you talking like that? Half an hour ago you were Miss Positivity. Now you think this is a dead end too? What happened?”

  Mary wrestled with the question for a few seconds before she answered. “Before I left home, I set a snooping program into my father’s computer to search for any old e-mails from your parents to him. The search is super slow; I had to make it like that to avoid detection. I checked it while you were asleep and found this.”

  Mary handed her phone to Sam.

  From: Phillip Force [email protected]

  Date: Saturday, May 8, 2010

  To: Francis Verulam [email protected]

  Dear Francis,

  I regret to report that Lamanai is not the location we hoped it would be. There are no answers here. The site is a dead end. We plan to conclude our work here and depart within the next twenty-four hours. We will submit a full report on our trip within the next two weeks.

  Yours sincerely,