Aztec Gold Read Online Free PDF Page B

of something heavy dropping into place above the locker.
    She had curled up into a fetal position in a far corner, praying that nothing bad would happen. But then the screams had started. The deep voices of men shouting in a foreign tongue nearly drowned out the wails and cries of her parents pleading for mercy.
    As the voices of her mother and father faded, the violence continued as the men had tossed their camp in a frenzy. Above her she heard the crash, thump and drag of items being trashed, and if possible she had made herself into an even tinier ball and continued to pray.
    Eventually the still of the night replaced the gruesome sounds of the attack.
    She had held on to her doll for the two days she had remained secreted beneath the ground until the local game wardens, having heard a report of trouble, had come to the camp to investigate.
    She still had the doll tucked away in a drawer at home. It was her last connection to her parents.
    Fighting back tears, Cynthia drove away those recollections and forced herself back to the now. In some ways Rafe had been right that she spent too much time letting the past dictate her life.
    She hadn’t just been afraid to live her own life. She had been afraid to let Rafe live his for fear he would suffer an end much like her parents.
    It didn’t help that her fears had not been misplaced.
    With her arms pillowed behind her head, she listened to the quiet of the predawn morning. A peaceful morning filled with promise, she reminded herself as she battled those old demons.
    Although it was dark, she would have to rise soon if they were to get underway with the sunrise and be able to take a break during the hottest part of the day.
    Dani stirred beside her, stretching and then shifting to her side in the sleeping bag. She brushed back some errant locks of her straight blond hair, and with eyes still half-closed with sleep, she said, “Ready for the big day?”
    Big day? Most would have said that finally leaving the quiet safety of the museum had been her big day, but maybe Dani was right. Maybe this was her big day. Today they would enter la selva del diablo , and somewhere in all that jungle, there might be an ancient temple and some hint of what had happened to her lover.
    “As ready as anyone can be,” she replied, sat up and tossed aside the one flap of her sleeping bag. They changed quickly, replacing their shorts and T-shirts with the more protective but lightweight khakis they would wear for the remainder of their trek into the jungle. She strapped the heavy leather belt with the holstered pistol onto her waist and secured it well. For good measure, she made sure an eight-inch hunting knife was within easy reach on her left side and jostled the canteen toward the back of her belt to confirm it was still full. She had replenished her drinking supply with the sweet refreshing spring water from the fountain in the town’s zocalo .
    On the way to the zocalo the night before, she had passed the adobe homes of the villagers. The large single-room structures had only one story, with high-ceilinged flat roofs to help deal with the heat and humidity. Only the calpulli’s home boasted a second story, a testament to his position as leader.
    An occasional peek inside revealed that several relatives lived under one roof. Near the entrance to one home she had caught sight of a young woman twisting cotton and other fibers onto a stick while nearby an older woman, probably her mother, used a clay spindle whorl of brightly colored thread to make fabric on a small loom.
    At the zocalo , a few villagers had also been gathering water in large earthenware jugs, while another group of men sat playing a board game.
    They had shot her uneasy glances as she filled her canteen and Dani’s, but she had given them a smile and wished them good-night in Nahuatl, which somehow seemed to break past their reticence.
    Cynthia wondered if the villagers would still be as cautious today as she exited the tent