“Okay, new theory.” I thought for a second. “Either it climbed the mesa or it fell from the sky.”
“You can’t have it both ways.”
I grinned. “I just did.”
Beverly rolled her eyes. “Age is definitely just a number. Because both of you are children.”
Chuckling, I pulled my machete from its sheath. “This is a long shot, but let’s do it right. Look for trash, old fire pits, evidence of a campsite, any sign of life really.”
We spread out and eased our way into the forest. The close-knit trees gave the summit a cramped feeling. But from my time in the helicopter, I knew it was deceptively large.
Using my machete, I hacked a path through the dense foliage. Occasionally, I heard rustling and skittering noises, along with that horrid shrieking.
The forest thinned a bit and I caught a glimpse of twin lines of weathered balls of dirt. Kneeling down, I shifted some leaves and saw more balls. They were overgrown with weeds and grass.
Picking up a stick, I scratched one of the balls. Discolored stone appeared before my eyes. Looking at the other balls, I realized they were also stones. Individually, they were nothing special. But together, they took on great importance.
“Well, how about that?” I muttered softly. “It’s a trail.”
Chapter 64
Heart racing, I grasped one of the stones. Its edges gleamed in the waning daylight that managed to fight its way through the canopy. The color was right and for a moment, I wondered if I’d stumbled upon a hunk of Fort Knox’s lost gold. But the weight was off and the stone emitted a peculiar garlic odor.
I returned it to the ground. Then I walked between the twin lines of stones, using my machete to cut through overgrown bushes along the way.
Darkness continued to fall as I pushed deeper into the forest. After a short walk, I pulled to a halt. Graham stood off to my left, Beverly to my right. Their eyes were fixed on the same thing that had caught my attention.
A stone platform stood fifty feet away, covered with leafy green plants and moss. It was about twenty feet long and stood just a foot or so beneath the canopy. On one side of the platform, I saw steps carved out of the rock.
“An ancient ruin,” Beverly said softly. “Centuries old from the looks of it.”
I eyed the platform. It looked like an altar, possibly one used for ceremonial sacrifices. If so, that could explain a few other things about the summit as well. The trees and plants might be descendants of an ancient garden. And the chipmunk we’d seen could be a descendent of a creature that had been brought to the summit many years earlier.
“I wonder who built it,” Beverly said. “And how they got up here in the first place.”
“Maybe they scaled the walls,” Graham suggested. “As part of a race. Plenty of ancient cultures pitted their warriors against each other in order to determine tribal leadership.”
I nodded. “Like the Birdman cult on Easter Island.”
“Exactly.”
Silently, we approached the platform. A closer look revealed it was made from the same garlic-scented material that had been used to construct the pathway.
Swiftly, I scaled the carved steps to the top of the vine-covered platform. The view of the surrounding mountains and forests and waterways, although partially obscured by foliage and darkness, was fantastic.
Glancing down, I noticed strange markings on the platform. Clearing away some vines with my machete, I caught a glimpse of rudimentary pictures. They were carved deep into the stone, yet still had a hurried look about them.
Graham and Beverly joined me on the platform. Graham took a small flashlight out of his pocket and aimed its beam at the images.
The first one showed tiny figures surrounding a giant object, which I took to be the mesa. Other figures seemed to be walking toward it from great distances. Meanwhile, a lone figure stood atop the mesa, looking down on everyone.
The second image caused my brow to knot up. The same figures still surrounded the mesa. But they clutched their throats and appeared to be in great pain.
“What’s that third one?” Graham bent down to get a closer look.
“It’s a bunch of dead bodies, piled up around the mesa.” Beverly glanced back at the first image. “This must’ve been a pilgrimage spot for ancient Native Americans.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “Until it killed them.”
Chapter 65
Dirt kicked up as the helicopter settled into the secondary clearing. Looking around, I saw construction workers, half-finished modular buildings, armored cars, dump trucks, and helicopters.
“I need to check in with my C.O.” Price shot me a look. “After that, you owe me a picture.”
“Well, we’re going to be busy for awhile and—”
Beverly clamped her hand over my mouth. “He can’t wait,” she replied with a smile.
Practically glowing, Price turned back to the controls.
I slid the door open and climbed out of the helicopter. Before my feet hit the ground, a voice rang out from behind me.
“They’re waiting for you in Owl-One.”
I helped Graham and Beverly out of the cabin. Then I whirled around and laid eyes on Corporal Wendell. “Nice to see you, too.”
Grinning widely, he led us on a winding path through modular buildings in various stages of construction, vehicles, soldiers, and all sorts of equipment.
“What’s with those trucks?” Graham asked as we strode past a pair of dump trucks.
“Those are modified dump trucks,” Corporal Wendell replied. “It’s my understanding they’ll be used to transport dirt and rubble from the area in the event we need to dig. But more importantly, they’ll be used to carry any gold we find back to Fort Knox.”
We kept walking until at last, we reached a long, skinny two-story modular building, well-guarded by soldiers.
We passed through several security checks and were stripped of our gear and weapons in the process. Then we marched up a short staircase. After another security check, two soldiers waved us through a metal door.
We entered a central hallway, guarded by yet more soldiers. Men and women, some in military gear and others in business casual clothing, filled the hall. Overhead fixtures cast harsh light on them as they crisscrossed the thin area, constantly flowing from door to door.
Corporal Wendell led us up a flight of stairs to the second floor. Then we walked down a hallway, far less crowded than its first floor counterpart. After another security check, we entered a small conference room.
President Walters, seated on the far end of a long table, glanced up. A frown creased his distinguished visage. “We’ve been waiting for you,” he said.
“We took a little detour. Of course, that was the easy part.” I slid a chair to the opposite end of the table and sat down. Beverly took the chair to my right. “The hard part was getting through your security.”
K.J., seated to the president’s left, narrowed his eyes. “I assure you it’s absolutely necessary.”
“Like this mini-city of yours?” Graham took the seat to my left. “Haven’t you guys ever heard of the word, discretion?”
“Unfortunately, we’re past the point of discretion. We need to find that gold and fast.” The president sat back and steepled his fingers in front of his face. “But first, we’ve got some news.”
Beverly cocked her head. “Good news?”
“We’re not sure yet.” K.J. looked at each of us in turn. “You know how ground-penetrating radar works, right?”
Graham chuckled.
“You could say that,” I replied.
Donovan, situated to the president’s right, coughed. “Actually, I don’t.”
K.J. glanced at him.
“Me neither if I’m completely honest.” Ben, sitting in the seat next to Donovan, crossed his arms. “We’re bureaucrats, not treasure hunters.”