Torrent by David Meyer Read Free Book Online
Authors: David Meyer
budge. So, there he stood, surrounded by a fortune in gold he couldn't take with him. He constructed the water trap to protect it, sealed the tomb, and fought his way back to civilization."
As I listened to the story, I felt creeping disappointment. Miranda had told me the sarcophagus would shed definitive light on the Classic Maya Collapse. Somehow a bunch of gold plates just didn't measure up.
"The trap was never released," I said. "So, I'm guessing he never returned here."
"He certainly tried," Miranda said. "He led an expedition to this region in the mid-1930s. But his memory failed him."
"How'd you get involved?"
"I managed to procure a copy of Hope's diary back in 2012. The ink was heavily faded. But Dora and Renau were able to translate some of the hieroglyphics he'd copied from the tomb."
"2012?" Beverly frowned. "That was a long time ago."
"It takes time to plan an expedition. Anyway we started analyzing satellite images of this region. We identified over a dozen locations where Hope might've crashed. We did some more work and eventually narrowed it down to this part of the jungle. We located the plane a few days ago. We were able to link five separate artifacts to Hope. So, as you can see—"
"Wait." Beverly held up a finger, demanding silence. Then she tilted her chin to the sky.
A distant, chopping noise caught my ears.
I looked at Beverly. "You know what that is, right?"
"Yeah." Her jaw tightened. "And it's heading toward us."
Chapter 15
"Wait," Miranda shouted. "Don't …"
Her voice faded away as I ran through the muck. My arms pumped. My legs churned. I was running fast. And yet, it didn't seem fast enough.
I raced through a patch of bushes. Thorns tore at my pants and ripped into my flesh. Gritting my teeth, I powered through the pain.
I ran into the clearing as the last vestiges of daylight started to slip from view. Graham, surrounded by tools, knelt in front of Eve. A forlorn expression adorned his face. Off to the side, Miranda's team crouched in front of the sarcophagus. Their flashlight beams illuminated its ornate lid.
"Hey Cy," Graham lifted his head. "Can you—?"
"Turn off your light," I hissed loudly. "And get your gun ready."
The sky cracked. Wind whipped across the clearing. A large helicopter appeared directly overhead, its blades chopping at the air.
As it drifted downward, it pulled a cloak of darkness along with it. Glancing to the horizon, I caught one last look at the sun before it dipped out of sight. It was red as blood.
Beverly darted out of the jungle, just moments behind me. Her gaze flew upward. "I only know one person who likes to make secretive helicopter trips to remote archaeological digs."
"Me too." I steeled my jaw. "Votan."
Chapter 16
The helicopter settled into the clearing. It was large, exactly the same size as that flown by Votan. And yet, it was painted differently. His helicopter had been painted black. The one before me was white with blue trim. Of course, that didn't mean anything. Votan might've repainted it to throw off the authorities.
Debris spat into the air. The two dogs, barking loudly, ran to the edge of the clearing. Shielding my eyes, I retrieved my pistol and took cover behind my truck.
The helicopter's engine ceased. Its exterior lights blinked off. Its blades slowed to a halt.
Miranda jogged out of the forest. Bending over, she heaved for air. I tried to get her attention, but she didn't see me.
The cabin door slid open. A single individual, dressed in outdoor clothing, hopped to the ground. His face was stern and rugged. His skin was drawn taut, with deep lines etched across it. "Where's Reed?"
I tightened my grip on the gun. "Who the hell are you?"
"Adam Crowley. I handle personal security."
"For Votan?"
"No. Place your gun on the ground."
"Not a chance."
"I'm not going to ask twice."
"Then don't."
He walked around the truck. I hesitated, unsure of whether he was friend or foe.
His right arm twitched. The air
As I listened to the story, I felt creeping disappointment. Miranda had told me the sarcophagus would shed definitive light on the Classic Maya Collapse. Somehow a bunch of gold plates just didn't measure up.
"The trap was never released," I said. "So, I'm guessing he never returned here."
"He certainly tried," Miranda said. "He led an expedition to this region in the mid-1930s. But his memory failed him."
"How'd you get involved?"
"I managed to procure a copy of Hope's diary back in 2012. The ink was heavily faded. But Dora and Renau were able to translate some of the hieroglyphics he'd copied from the tomb."
"2012?" Beverly frowned. "That was a long time ago."
"It takes time to plan an expedition. Anyway we started analyzing satellite images of this region. We identified over a dozen locations where Hope might've crashed. We did some more work and eventually narrowed it down to this part of the jungle. We located the plane a few days ago. We were able to link five separate artifacts to Hope. So, as you can see—"
"Wait." Beverly held up a finger, demanding silence. Then she tilted her chin to the sky.
A distant, chopping noise caught my ears.
I looked at Beverly. "You know what that is, right?"
"Yeah." Her jaw tightened. "And it's heading toward us."
Chapter 15
"Wait," Miranda shouted. "Don't …"
Her voice faded away as I ran through the muck. My arms pumped. My legs churned. I was running fast. And yet, it didn't seem fast enough.
I raced through a patch of bushes. Thorns tore at my pants and ripped into my flesh. Gritting my teeth, I powered through the pain.
I ran into the clearing as the last vestiges of daylight started to slip from view. Graham, surrounded by tools, knelt in front of Eve. A forlorn expression adorned his face. Off to the side, Miranda's team crouched in front of the sarcophagus. Their flashlight beams illuminated its ornate lid.
"Hey Cy," Graham lifted his head. "Can you—?"
"Turn off your light," I hissed loudly. "And get your gun ready."
The sky cracked. Wind whipped across the clearing. A large helicopter appeared directly overhead, its blades chopping at the air.
As it drifted downward, it pulled a cloak of darkness along with it. Glancing to the horizon, I caught one last look at the sun before it dipped out of sight. It was red as blood.
Beverly darted out of the jungle, just moments behind me. Her gaze flew upward. "I only know one person who likes to make secretive helicopter trips to remote archaeological digs."
"Me too." I steeled my jaw. "Votan."
Chapter 16
The helicopter settled into the clearing. It was large, exactly the same size as that flown by Votan. And yet, it was painted differently. His helicopter had been painted black. The one before me was white with blue trim. Of course, that didn't mean anything. Votan might've repainted it to throw off the authorities.
Debris spat into the air. The two dogs, barking loudly, ran to the edge of the clearing. Shielding my eyes, I retrieved my pistol and took cover behind my truck.
The helicopter's engine ceased. Its exterior lights blinked off. Its blades slowed to a halt.
Miranda jogged out of the forest. Bending over, she heaved for air. I tried to get her attention, but she didn't see me.
The cabin door slid open. A single individual, dressed in outdoor clothing, hopped to the ground. His face was stern and rugged. His skin was drawn taut, with deep lines etched across it. "Where's Reed?"
I tightened my grip on the gun. "Who the hell are you?"
"Adam Crowley. I handle personal security."
"For Votan?"
"No. Place your gun on the ground."
"Not a chance."
"I'm not going to ask twice."
"Then don't."
He walked around the truck. I hesitated, unsure of whether he was friend or foe.
His right arm twitched. The air
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