"I'm going to clear an exit."
Tum continued to yank on the door handle with little success. I limped toward him. "Let me try."
He stepped to the side. I grabbed the handle. Wrenched it. My shoulder howled in pain. "No good. Give me a hand."
Together, we yanked the handle. It stuck fast.
My muscles strained. So did his.
The door refused to budge.
I leaned back and yanked with all my strength.
The door slid open. A wave of hot air sucked the oxygen right out of my lungs. A dense, wet fog limited my visibility. But I felt heat and heard soft crackling noises.
I rotated toward the cockpit. Blue and white flames flickered wildly, stabbing out repeatedly into the fog.
Beverly squeezed past me and jumped outside. She raced toward the cockpit with a fire extinguisher in her hands. Moments later, chemical foam shot all over the flames.
I staggered back into the cabin. Crowley, with Emily propped up on his shoulder, passed by me. Meanwhile, Miranda helped Dora and Renau to their feet. They grabbed fire extinguishers and hobbled toward the exit.
My eyes scanned the benches. My heart went cold.
Dutch Graham was beyond tough and had survived every challenge nature or man had ever thrown at him. But now he lay on the bench, gasping for air. His face was white. Thin trickles of blood poured from various wounds on his back and shoulders.
I unbuckled him. He tried to speak but only managed a few soft gurgles. I didn't bother checking for broken bones. Instead, I lugged him to the doorframe. My muscles protested as I hauled him to the ground. My boots quickly sank into deep marshland. Gritting my teeth, I carried Graham away from the helicopter.
He winced as I deposited him on a patch of thick vegetation. "Ohh …"
"How do you feel?"
"Like hell."
The flat marsh consisted of tall grass, reeds, and short bushes. A thin ribbon of dry land lay at the edge of the marsh. Then came the trees. They were gigantic, reaching into the fog before vanishing from sight.
A small campsite had been erected on the southern edge of the clearing, just past the marsh. The tractor, covered in a large tarp, sat nearby. But I didn't see Rigoberta, Pacho, or the dogs.
Twisting around, I looked at the helicopter. Foam blanketed it. Dents lined the metallic sides. Soot covered the landing skids. It was still in one piece, but it wouldn't be flying anytime soon.
Nearby, Beverly, Miranda, and the Maneros were gathered around Dr. Wu. His clothes hung in tatters. Chemical foam covered his body.
I helped Graham to his feet. He took a few practice steps. Then we trudged through the thick marsh to join the others. "What happened?"
"I don't know. Everything just failed on me. I've never seen anything like it." The doc glanced at the cockpit. "One of the backup FADEC systems must've kicked in at the last moment. It saved our lives."
Emily hobbled into our circle, followed closely by Crowley. "Has anyone seen Rigoberta or Pacho?"
No one replied.
"You'd think they would've checked on us by now."
"I don't know about you," Graham said. "But if I saw a helicopter falling out of the sky, I'd run like hell in the opposite direction."
We gravitated toward the helicopter. Wordlessly, we split into teams. Miranda, Tum, and the Maneros walked to the external cargo. They unhooked various crates from the cargo hook and slowly wheeled them through the marsh.
Beverly, Graham, Emily, Crowley, Dr. Wu, and I trudged toward the cabin. We formed an assembly line and began offloading supplies and baggage.
"I keep thinking about those orbs," Graham said as he took a bag from me. "What were they?"
Emily grabbed the bag from Graham and tossed it into a pile. "The lightning was pretty heavy. Maybe it played tricks on our eyes."
"On all of our eyes? At the exact same time?"
Beverly took a crate from Dr. Wu and handed it to me. "I think it was ball lightning."
Graham's ears perked. "What's that?"
"Exactly what it sounds like. From what I understand, it's extremely rare. I saw it once while I was stationed in Iraq. The balls moved in all directions and were attracted toward metal objects."
Emily arched an eyebrow. "Like the helicopter?"
Beverly nodded. "The ones I saw lasted over a minute. When they vanished, they left a scent of sulfur in their wake. They also made noises, like explosive pops."
"They weren't exactly pops, but I heard horn noises."
"Me too," Dr. Wu said.
The rest of us concurred.
"I guess that explains the crash," Graham said. "Helicopters are Faraday cages, so they're constructed to block external electric fields. But the antennas could've acted as holes in the cage."
"Yes," Beverly said. "And …"
Her voice died off. A heavy box slipped from her hands and crashed into the marsh.
I gave her a questioning look. Her eyes were aimed at a point somewhere behind me.
I turned around. My tongue grew huge in my mouth. I tried to speak but was only able to sputter nonsense.
A massive stone structure loomed before me, engulfed by mist and dark clouds. Strange vines, sparse grass and thousands of plants covered its smooth surface, forming a mat that pulsated with the breeze. Its sides angled slightly inward as they rose high into the air, forming an exceptionally steep pyramid. However, they didn't end in a point. Instead, they stopped short, forming a base. A separate, elaborate structure sat on top of the base.
I searched my brain for a Maya temple with which to compare it. But it was like nothing I'd ever seen before. It looked taller than Tikal's Temple IV. It seemed steeper than even the steepest side of Uxmal's Pyramid of the Magician.
Hard raindrops pelted me as I took a few steps forward. The mist, thick and moist, clung to my skin. The odors of chemical foam, mud, and trampled plants swirled inside my nostrils.
The pyramid was a remarkable piece of architecture. And yet, it gave me an eerie feeling. It seemed almost alive. But this wasn't a life I could celebrate. This life felt brutal, vicious.
Evil.
Chapter 36
"Put it down," Dr. Wu glared at Emily. "It's not going anywhere."
The crate suddenly felt heavy in my arms. I stifled a yawn as my initial adrenaline rush started to fade.
"What's the problem?" Emily asked.
"You're my problem. You and everyone else here. You shouldn't be working. You need bandages, medicine, and rest."
Beverly grunted as she flung a pair of duffel bags over her shoulder. "We can't leave these things here." She slogged through the marsh. "We might not find them again."
He opened his mouth to reply. But a scream, loud and high-pitched, cut him off.
Emily swiveled toward the camp. "What was that?"
Miranda swallowed. "It sounded like Rigoberta."
Bags fell to the marsh. Crates and boxes dropped, splashing lightly into the water. Then our entire group ran toward the camp.
Another pained scream sounded out. It pierced my chest and passed all the way to my heart.
I reached the edge of the marsh. Quickly, I clambered to hard ground, raced around the tractor, and entered the camp.
I saw twelve tents. I recognized one of them — a large dome-shaped tent — from the previous excavation. It possessed multiple openings and housed tables, equipment, tools, crates and other supplies. A second large tent, rectangular-shaped, was zippered shut.
Ten smaller tents of varying sizes were situated around the larger ones. I heard rustling sounds coming from two of them. I ran to the nearest one and quickly unzipped the flap.
"Help me," Rigoberta moaned. "My head … it's on fire."
Rain fell at a rapid clip. Thick mist was everywhere. But I still saw her. She looked awful. Her face was pale. Her nostrils looked swollen. Vomit dribbled from the corners of her mouth and dripped down her cheeks, staining her sleeping bag.