“What if we threw in some Cheetos?” Bones said.
Maddock grinned. “Hard work is its own reward, Jimmy. You live for big challenges.”
Jimmy grunted. “Well, you’re not completely wrong. But as challenges go, this one barely rates.”
Maddock knew Jimmy wasn’t bragging, at least, not much. It had taken him less than an hour to come back with an answer — barely enough time for them to get settled into their hotel room in Belize City where Kasey had established cover for all of them as Red Cross relief workers.
“Allow me to direct your attention to exhibit one,” Jimmy went on.
A browser window opened on the computer, revealing a satellite photo-map of Central America. The picture zoomed in close on the mostly green mass of land that was the Guatemalan rain forest. The image froze and then changed to what looked almost like a photographic negative of the same image, except that now a series of lines and shapes — all too regular and uniform to be naturally occurring — were visible. “That is the City of Shadow,” Jimmy said.
Bell was suitably impressed. “This is remarkable. How did you obtain this imagery?”
“He hacked it,” Bones said with a shrug. “It’s what he does.”
Maddock shot his friend an annoyed glance. While no one in the room was under any illusions about the illicit nature of Jimmy’s activity, some discretion seemed advisable, particularly since both Kasey and Miranda were officers of the federal government.
Jimmy, however, didn’t seem particularly concerned with being outed. “The CIA commissioned a LIDAR survey of the area a couple years back. They were looking for—”
“That’s not important right now,” Maddock said quickly, cutting him off. “Let’s focus on finding the black road.”
An arrow-shaped cursor floated over the map, settling on the largest square. “This is the pyramid you explored.” A white outline appeared to highlight the temple. “And here is where you came out.”
Maddock saw not one, but four distinct lines radiating out from the side of the pyramid, similarly accentuated.
“The crossroads,” Bell said, as if reading his mind. “Only one of them is correct.”
“True, but they all appear to go somewhere.” The image zoomed out again, revealing how the roads curled around the outskirts of the city before diverging in different directions only to terminate abruptly at seemingly random intervals. Jimmy zoomed in on each of them in turn, revealing more structures — square buildings and round cisterns — all invisible to the unaided eye.
“The southern route,” Bell said. “That will be the one.”
The screen resolution bobbed and jumped and then settled on the terminus of a trail that followed a more or less true line to the south of the City of Shadow, but unlike the others, there appeared to be no hidden ruins at the site. It was also the only black road route that came anywhere near an inhabited area, just twenty miles or so from what appeared to be a fairly large city. The surrounding region had been mostly deforested and divided up into agricultural plots.
“I’m afraid that’s the one site that’s already been discovered,” Jimmy said. “The Naj Tunich cave.”
Bell seemed unfazed by the caveat. “Naj Tunich. Of course. That has to be it.” He turned to Maddock, his enthusiasm back in full force. “Naj Tunich was only discovered about forty years ago. It’s an enormous cave system, adorned with hundreds of paintings and hieroglyphic texts. It was a major pilgrimage site for the Maya, associated with the Underworld and Xibalba. In fact, one of the inner caves is called Mictlan Ch'en—Cave of the Underworld. There are still several unexplored passages, including a five hundred foot deep vertical shaft at the end of one passage. It’s one of the deepest caves in Central America. That has got to be entrance to Xibalba.”
Maddock thought it sounded like a long shot, but Bones just shrugged. “It’s close to beer for a change.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t be the first time we found something hidden in plain sight,” Maddock said with a sigh. “All right, Jimmy. Send me the GPS coordinates for the other three points, just in case.”
“Will do.” An electronic tone signaled the end of the Skype call, but the LIDAR image remained on the screen.
Maddock turned to Bell. “So what can we expect in Xibalba? More tests?”
Bell nodded. “Xibalba literally means ‘the place of fear.’ The Hero Twins had to make their way through six ‘houses,’ each of which seems to correspond to a primal fear. Dark House. Blade House. Shivering House, sometimes called Cold House, which is said to be full of bone-chilling cold and rattling hail. There’s also Jaguar House, Bat House, and Hot House. And that’s just to reach the part of Xibalba where the Lords of Death reside.”
“Right. So lots of chances to get killed. And that’s aside from insects and snakes and tropical parasites. And a five hundred foot long vertical descent in an unexplored cave.” He cast a meaningful glance at Angel. “I don’t suppose I can convince anyone to stay here where it’s safe.”
Bones, his expression completely deadpan, started to raise his hand, but Angel slapped it down. “Not a chance, Maddock,” she said, firmly. “Besides, if experience has taught me anything, it’s that I’m safer with you.”
Maddock prayed she was right about that.
CHAPTER 23
Hector Canul did not slow as he passed the junction where the mountain road met the highway. The road was blocked by a Honduran police vehicle, and he had no desire to attract the attention of the officer sitting inside. Instead, he drove on for another mile before pulling off the road. The ground was still soft from the recent torrential rains and even with four-wheel drive there was a risk of getting stuck, but that was the least of his worries.
Rodrigo had disappeared. Hector had been counting on the old grave robber's greed as a more powerful incentive than his fear, but evidently he had misread the man. Now, he was going to have to do this the hard way.
He got out, taking along a small backpack with food and water, and a machete knife, and headed into the surrounding forest. There was a faint smell of smoke in the air, a reminder of the fire that had destroyed the mountain village of Opalaca — Rodrigo’s home. The government was calling it an unfortunate accident, a wildfire caused by an ember from an untended cooking fire. How the flames had ignited the thoroughly drenched vegetation was not something the authorities were willing to address, but the area was nonetheless off limits pending further investigation.
The foliage was thick but pliant, allowing him to simply push through without hacking it down. Blazing a trail might have been faster, but it would also be noisy, and if the police decided to investigate the seemingly abandoned vehicle on the roadside, he didn’t want them to know where he had gone. After about fifteen minutes however, he encountered what looked like a game trail winding through the jungle. He studied the faint trail carefully until discovering the distinctive hoof-shape of a boot heel. A smile of satisfaction touched his lips.
There was no guarantee that the boot print belonged to Rodrigo, or his rival, Diego, but he felt certain that both men had probably utilized the trail at some point in their search for treasure and Maya relics to sell on the black market.
He pushed cautiously down the trail, heading deeper and deeper into the forest, exploring other trails and sidings. Here and there, he found evidence of exploratory excavations, and even weathered stones that might once have formed the walls of ancient Maya homes, yet despite these seeming successes, Hector’s sense of the futility of his search grew with each new discovery.