Cult of the Black Jaguar Read Online Free PDF Page A

“I tried…but I’m not as young as I used to be.”
    â€œDon’t worry. We’ll get her back. In the meantime, you rest. You’ll need your strength later. Can you tell me where you’re hurt?”
    Ashen lips turned up at the corners, a ghost of the historian’s normally ebullient smile. “Not my bones, Ethan. It’s my heart. They took my pack with my medicine. All this excitement…” He paused again. Ethan interrupted him before he could continue.
    â€œI understand. Sit still. I’ll get you something to drink. It will make you feel better.”
    Ethan patted the man on the arm. Holding back a groan, he stood up and motioned for Harrison to give the professor a cup of juice. Grim thoughts circled like buzzards in his head as he watched the professor sip carefully at the sweet liquid.
    My only friend in the world is dying. And I’m helpless to stop it.
    He’d served as mission planner, senior guide and security guard for more of Heathcliff Pascal’s excursions than he could count. Ever since the professor had found him in Italy, locked in an underground tomb and facing an eternity-long slide into insanity. From that moment on, they’d been inseparable.
    South America, Mexico, Egypt. Even Mongolia, where they’d run across one of Roy Chapman Andrews’ fossil-hunting expeditions. They’d spent a wild three days excavating the bones of prehistoric animals, all the while keeping a wary eye out for the bands of marauders rumored to be roaming the area.
    Now, after more than thirty years together, the great explorer was in danger of losing his life because the crazy last members of an ancient cult had stolen his medicine. Ethan silently cursed the Gods who thought it entertaining to bring people together only to tear them apart again.
    â€œWe have to get his pack,” he told Amos. “He won’t last long without his pills.”
    â€œForget about me. Save Jenny.” The professor’s voice was little more than a choking whisper.
    Jenny. If you don’t get out of this, you’ll lose them both.
    â€œWe will. Nobody’s dying, not today.”
    Ethan stared out one of the tiny windows. The Temple de Sangre rose above the other buildings, a monument to blood and death.
    Ethan refused to picture Jenny laid out on the altar at the top, her life draining out onto the stones.
    â€œI’ll save you. I promise,” he whispered.
    Ethan did his best to use the time until sunset to their advantage. He moved from window to window, memorizing as much of the city’s layout as he could. He went over different escape options with Rory Amos and Elton Harrison. And he made periodic checks on Heathcliff Pascal’s condition.
    The native remedy seemed to have revived the old man somewhat. His breathing was no longer as labored, and he’d even managed to sit up on his own. But his face still remained drained of color, and his skin had gone cold and clammy. By unspoken agreement, all three men were letting Pascal have their shares of water and juice.
    The minutes dragged on in the oven-like temperature of their prison. Eventually, however, the light reaching them through the windows began to change. First darker yellow, then orange, then blood-red. Tropical sunsets passed quickly, and as soon as he noticed the lengthening shadows, Ethan roused the others.
    When the three natives came for them, Ethan had everyone on their feet and waiting. His plan was to rush their enemy at the door. His wound wasn’t healed yet, but it had stopped bleeding, which was the best he could hope for under the circumstances.
    The long, cold barrel of a shotgun stopped Ethan before he could take a single step. Veracruz sneered at them.
    â€œYou think I am stupid, Señor Foster?” He motioned with the gun. “Please come outside. One of you at a time. No tricks. You can meet the Priestess on your own two feet,” he smiled, “or