Bones of the Sun God Page 8

  The man in the passenger seat turned to look at Sam, and he thought he’d been caught. At that moment, the car sped past a streetlight. The orange glow lit up the interior, but all Sam saw was the long, ugly scar running down the man’s face.

  11

  SUN GOD

  THE SCAR-FACED MAN DIDN’T SAY a word. No one in the car spoke during the ten-minute drive to Xibalba.

  The car stopped at the entrance to the tunnel. Sam felt the man beside him move, and as he turned, a bag was shoved over his head. Panicking, he began to struggle, but the door opened and someone pulled.

  Firm hands on each shoulder steered Sam into the tunnel, but they hadn’t gone very far when the group stopped. Sam heard the click of a door opening and sensed the walls closing in as they moved down a long corridor. The pace increased until they came to stairs. Sam stumbled twice, but each time he was hauled back to his feet.

  There was another corridor at the top of the stairs, then another door. This time one of the men knocked politely. The group waited in silence and then, from inside a booming voice called, “Enter.”

  The door opened, and the hands pushed Sam forward until he bumped into a chair. He slid into it, and the room descended into silence. Minutes passed, and Sam’s ears began to compensate for his lack of vision. He sensed the three men behind him, breathing and shuffling their feet. He heard the ticking of an old clock in the corner of the room. It reminded him of the secretary’s office at St. Albans. And then, below the ticking and shuffling, he heard another sound: the scratching of a pen on paper.

  Finally, the scratching sound stopped. A moment later someone pulled the bag off Sam’s head. The rough cloth scraped his nose, and Sam’s eyes watered. As he wiped the tears away, he saw the large, moon-shaped face of a very well-fed middle-aged man staring at him. Sam dropped his hand, embarrassed by his reaction.

  The man was totally bald, with only the faintest trace of eyebrows. The effect was a large brown blob sitting on top of a white collared shirt. He sat on the other side of a desk, covered in paper, staring at Sam with dark, unblinking eyes. Sam tried to hold his stare but couldn’t and looked away.

  The man took this as a sign of victory. He slammed his hands onto the desk and pushed his bulky frame up. As he rose, he looked past Sam and gave the briefest nod. There were hurried footsteps and the sound of the door opening and closing.

  They were alone.

  “Sam Force?” The man lowered his head, fixing his dark eyes on his guest. “That is your name, yes?”

  Sam nodded.

  “And do you know who I am?”

  “Felix Ramos.”

  “That is correct,” the man said, smiling as he placed his hands behind his back and moved out from behind the desk.

  Sam relaxed as Felix lifted his piercing gaze from him, and he took his first proper look around the room. The office was fancy. The huge wooden desk had thick legs with the images of plants and animals carved on them. It sat on thick red carpet. The walls were painted the same color but covered with large oil paintings of old people and landscapes. But it was the object behind the desk that caught Sam’s eye.

  Mounted on the wall was a thick gold frame. But instead of a painting, the space inside was black fabric. Mounted in the center was an antique silver dagger. A spotlight in the roof aimed at the weapon lit up every detail. It had a large, rounded hilt with a cross on it like the one carved into the necklace Felix had worn in the show at Xibalba. The wide grip was bound with silver wire, and the blade was engraved with the image of a crocodile.

  Sam recognized the design. He had seen it on the Xibalba brochure and in the sub. His interest must have shown because behind him the man spoke.

  “Have you seen that before?”

  Sam shook his head.

  “Those are the tools I used to create Xibalba.”

  Beneath the dagger, a faded scrap of paper was pinned to the black fabric. It didn’t look like much of a tool, and Sam couldn’t make out the handwriting on it, but at the bottom he saw a sketch of a pyramid.

  A dull hum filled the room as the entire frame sank back, and then a panel, the same color as the walls, slid down over it and clicked into place. It was as if the framed dagger had never been there. The man moved back behind his desk and put down a small remote control unit. Sam understood that the dagger and piece of parchment had been on display for his benefit. The man sat down again; his eyes bored into Sam.

  “Did your parents send you?”

  “What? No! I came here to find them.”

  Felix laughed, deep and throaty; his huge frame shook like a mountain of jelly covered in material.

  “It’s true,” Sam pleaded, angry with how lame his statement sounded. “What do you know about my parents?”

  Felix kept laughing. He got back to his feet and walked to a small door. He stabbed at the keypad next to it with a pudgy finger until there was a clicking sound; then he motioned for Sam to follow him as he pushed the door open. Sam stood nervously, glancing back at the main doors he had been brought in through.

  “There is no escape,” Felix said, reading Sam’s mind. “My men are waiting outside. But if you do as I say, you will be okay.”

  Sam followed him through the door into a narrow hall lit by small lights set into the roof. At the end of it, stairs descended to another corridor that led to another door. Felix grinned as he pushed it open and waved his arm like a doorman in a fancy hotel. Only his dark eyes betrayed the friendly act.

  Most of the room was taken up by a large indoor pool. It was circular, like the one in the amphitheater, only slightly smaller. The room had no windows—the only light was coming from the water, and it filled the space with an eerie blue glow. It would have been quite beautiful if it hadn’t been for the circumstances.

  As Sam’s eyes adjusted to the low, blue light, he saw the far wall was glass. Behind it, steel cages were stacked from floor to ceiling. As he stared at them, they faded from view, the glass transformed from see-through to the same off-white color as the other walls.

  Felix grinned at Sam’s confusion and produced another remote control from his pocket. “I designed every part of Xibalba myself,” he said, waving in the direction of the glass wall. “And no one will take it from me. Not you, not your parents.”

  “I don’t care about Xibalba,” Sam said. “I told you. I came here to find my parents. That’s all!”

  Felix considered Sam’s statement for a moment, then pointed to the pool. “Leave your bag there,” he said, pointing to Sam’s feet. “I want to show you something.”

  He walked to the edge of the pool and stared into the water.

  “You see it?” he said, pointing to the center of the pool.

  Sam stood next to the giant man and looked, but all he could see was the white-tiled bottom of the pool. “See wha—”

  Sam wasn’t expecting the shove. Felix hit him hard in the center of his back. His arms flapped pathetically and got caught in his trench coat as he tumbled into the water. He’d had no time to take a breath, and as his head broke the surface, he gasped for air. He looked up at Felix, angry and confused, but the man smiled and pointed to the far side of the pool.

  Directly opposite, Sam spotted a hole in the wall. As he stared at it, a long black object slid out and settled on the bottom of the pool. Sam felt sick. A shiver ran through his body as he turned and looked up at Felix, unable to hide the horror on his face.

  “Don’t move,” the man said. “Answer my questions, and you have nothing to fear.”

  Sam was beyond fear. He couldn’t stop his body shaking. He inched his body back around to see the dark outline of the crocodile lying motionless on the white tiles.

  “Why are you here, Sam Force?” Felix said behind him.

  “My parents. I told you,” Sam pleaded. “I came to find them!”

  “Liar,” shouted Felix. “They have sent you for the treasure. You know where the other two locations are.”

  Sam was out of his mi
nd with panic. He had no idea what the man was talking about.

  “The other two locations. Where are they?” Felix demanded.

  “I don’t know!” Sam screamed. “I don’t—”

  “On!” Felix shouted.

  On command, the beast slid forward. Sam couldn’t help it, he screamed, a loud, shrill cry of terror.

  “Tell me,” said Felix.

  The crocodile surfaced. Water glistened on the green scales; its dead eyes, large and unblinking, were fixed on Sam.

  “The other two locations,” Felix said again.

  “I don’t know,” Sam sobbed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The crocodile opened its mouth.

  “Enough!” Felix yelled. The crocodile froze in the water, but its jaws continued to open. Sam stood rigid in the water, staring at the beast.

  And then he heard the laugh. Not from behind him. It was coming from the crocodile.

  As he stared into the jaws of the crocodile, human eyes appeared at the back of its mouth. Sam’s brain couldn’t understand what his eyes were showing him. He was looking at the face of a man wearing a dive mask. The man’s cheeks moved up and down around the edge of the mask as he laughed.

  Legs appeared under the crocodile. Sam watched as a man dropped out from underneath the animal and swam to the edge of the pool. He was wearing a skintight black wet suit and propelled himself out of the water in one smooth move. As he pulled off his mask, the Scar-Faced Man was still laughing.

  “Get him out,” Felix ordered.

  The Scar-Faced Man walked back to the edge of the pool, leaned down, and stuck out his arm. Sam took hold of it and let the man pull him out. He collapsed in a wet heap. Water drained out of his trench coat, spreading in a pool on the stone around him. He lay there, not trusting himself to stand up and unable to take his eyes off the lifeless beast in the pool.

  “That thing . . . Is that the secret to your show? How the sacrifices survive?” Sam asked.

  Felix laughed as he stared at Sam, then pointed a meaty fist at the pool. “That is just a toy. I assure you, the power given to me by Kinich Ahau is very real. As you will find out if you do not tell me the truth!”

  “I told you,” Sam said. “I just came here to find my parents.”

  “Liar. Your parents sent you here for gold. My gold!”

  “No they didn’t!” Sam protested. Despite what he’d just been through, Felix’s comment had angered him. “My parents came here because of the sub. They were interested in a link between the pyramids of Lamanai and Egypt.”

  “Ah yes,” Felix scoffed. “The pyramids, and the end of the world in 2012. That was a lie. A cover story. I found the sub and I claimed the real secret of Lamanai.” He began hitting his chest as he spoke. The meaty thumps punctuated the words. “I . . . found . . . it. Not them! And now that they know the truth, they have sent their boy to do their dirty work.”

  In the blue light coming from the pool, Felix’s angry red face looked even more grotesque. He glared down at Sam, who suddenly forgot about his run-in with whatever it was in the pool. Now Felix was the threat. He stood over Sam, breathing heavily as beads of sweat broke out across his face and head, and his chest heaved as if he’d just run a race.

  Sam looked up, too tired and too scared to move. Felix’s dark, unblinking eyes bore into him, and then, as quickly as it had come, the storm passed. His breathing calmed, and he lowered his arms and unclenched his fists. A weak smile formed as he turned and headed back to the door.

  “Azeem, find our guest somewhere to sleep for the night,” he called out as he left.

  The Scar-Faced Man had slunk out of the way while his boss had worked himself up to a frenzy. Now the man darted in, pulled Sam to his feet, and pushed him toward the glass wall. As they passed Sam’s backpack, Azeem grabbed it with his spare hand. They went to the right-hand end of the wall. Azeem leaned on the glass, a door-sized panel swung open, and he pushed Sam into the room full of steel cages.

  Stacked two high along both walls, each cage was twice the size of a dog kennel. The room smelled of rotting meat and damp living things. In the dim light coming from the pool room, Sam saw dark eyes watching him from the cages. Some of the crocodiles were so big their tails had been bent around to fit into the cages. Halfway along the room, an old wooden table had been slotted in between the cages.

  “Take your coat off and put it here,” Azeem said, pointing to the table where he had tossed Sam’s backpack.

  “What’s happening?” Sam asked as he put the coat down.

  Azeem shoved Sam on past another stack of cages before stopping.

  “Top or bottom?” he said, grinning.

  Sam looked at the two empty cages, one on top of the other. “You can’t be serious?”

  “Where did you think you were going to sleep?” the man hissed. “Choose now or I will.”

  Sam looked at the small, dirty cages and decided the one on the bottom would be more comfortable.

  He crawled in, and as he struggled to turn in the cramped confines of the cage, he heard, and felt, the door slam behind him. Sam looked back just in time to see Azeem placing a padlock on the latch.

  “Have a good night’s sleep.” Azeem tapped the cage cheerfully and laughed to himself as he headed back to the door.

  Sam sat back against the side of the cage, listening to the echoing footsteps fade. The bars dug into him. He shifted, but it made no difference. He was cold and tired and beyond despair. It had taken all his strength not to break down in front of the two men out by the pool, but now he sobbed quietly. All around him he could hear signs of life, but they weren’t human. There were low growls, the scrape of claws and scales on concrete, and breathing. Sam felt more alone than he had ever been in his life.

  And then someone whispered his name.

  12

  SEWING CLASS

  SAM DIDN’T UNDERSTAND WHAT HAD happened. Had he just imagined a boy calling out to him?

  Then he heard it again.

  “Sam. Can you hear me?”

  “Who is that?” he asked, expecting to hear nothing and be forced to admit he was losing his mind. But the voice replied.

  “My name is Elio.”

  Sam felt relieved. Not because he had company, but because he wasn’t going crazy. “Where are you?”

  “I am in a cage next to the desk. I saw you come past me.”

  “Why?” Sam asked. “Why are you here?”

  “I used to work for Mr. Ramos, but I was caught . . .” The boy’s voice trailed off.

  “Caught? Doing what?”

  “Mr. Ramos thought I was stealing from him. But I wasn’t,” the boy insisted. “Not really.”

  Sam was confused, and he still couldn’t get over the fact there was someone else in the room, and in a cage.

  “I was on the riverbank at Lamanai,” Elio continued. “I was looking for the entrance to the chamber.”

  “What chamber?”

  “The chamber where Mr. Ramos found the power of Kinich Ahau, and a lot of gold. I don’t need much. My mother is sick. One coin would be enough.”

  Sam thought back to Ramos’s bizarre questions about treasure and the two other locations.

  “Do you know where this chamber is?”

  “No.”

  “But Felix caught you looking for it?”

  “Not Mr. Ramos. Azeem,” the boy said. Sam could hear the bitterness in his tone. “He was in his machine.”

  “What machine?”

  “The one you saw in the pool.”

  “That fake crocodile. What’s it for?”

  “Mr. Ramos had the machine designed to catch crocodiles for Xibalba. It is a miniature submarine. One man lies inside and controls it. Always Azeem. He used to go into the caves and catch the babies. It has a dart gun in the mouth.”

  Sam sat in his cage shaking his head. A miniature sub disguised to look like a crocodile. Ramos had to be rich if he could waste money on contraptions like that.
Sam wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t just seen it with is own eyes. “It looked so real,” he said, more to himself than to Elio, but the boy heard him.

  “Yes, Sam. I, too, have been where you were. On the river, when it came for me; I thought I was dead.”

  “So Azeem was hunting crocs and found you.”

  “No,” the boy said. “Xibalba has enough crocodiles. Mr. Ramos sends Azeem to watch over his secret in Lamanai. I didn’t think he would be out that night. I was desperate. My mother is sick. I only need one piece of gold. I thought if I could find the chamber . . .”

  The boy fell silent, and Sam thought about what he had just learned. It felt like a tiny piece of a huge jigsaw puzzle had slipped into place. He had no idea what the final picture looked like, but he was almost grateful that Azeem had stuffed him into the cage.

  The feeling of success was fleeting. It faded as the cold bars digging into his back reminded Sam of the danger he was in.

  “Elio, how long have you been here?”

  “I was caught a week ago.”

  “You’ve been in that cage for a week?!”

  “No,” the boy said. “At first I was locked in a storeroom upstairs, but a few days ago there was a fire. Not a bad one, but the fire department came. Azeem was worried they would find me when they evacuated the park, so he moved me here. We are underground. This room is not on the plans.”

  “How do you know?” Sam asked.

  “I have worked here since Mr. Ramos opened Xibalba. I knew of this place, but was never allowed here. This is where Mr. Ramos trained his followers.”

  Sam didn’t reply straightaway. His mind began to tick over. “Could you find us a way out of here?” he asked.

  Now it was the boy’s turn to go quiet.