Excavation

Biting his lower lip, he joined the others. Beyond them lay a well of darkness. Though Sam was relieved at the escape from the crumbling pyramid, Friar de Almagro’s warning still echoed in his head: The Serpent of Eden… may it never be disturbed.

Sam motioned them toward the black caverns. “Let’s go.”

The path through the rock was tight, so they proceeded single file. Ralph took the lead, and Sam brought up the rear. In the cramped space, Sam felt as if the rock were squeezing closed around him. At one point, they had to slide sideways, crushed between two walls of granite. Once through the jam, they could hear the echoing sound of rushing waters growing. The sound whetted Sam’s thirst. His tongue felt like dry burlap in his mouth.

Ralph called back from the lead. “I think it opens up just ahead. C’mon.”

Sam hurried forward, stepping almost on Maggie’s heels. They had been climbing and scraping their way through the passage for close to an hour by then. At last, Sam felt a stirring of the air. He sensed a large space ahead. It coaxed them all to a faster clip.

The passage widened at last. The team could now proceed as a group. Ralph, a step ahead of the rest, held one of the flashlights. “There’s something ahead,” he mumbled.

Their pace slowed as the passage came to an end. Ralph raised his flashlight. “I don’t believe it!” he gasped.

Sam agreed. The others stood silent beside him. Ahead lay an open chamber, a cavern with a river channel worn through the center of the floor. But that was not what triggered the stunned reactions from the others. Pillars linked roof to floor, their lengths carved with intricate images and fantastic creatures. In the stone, embedded silver reflected the flashlight, eyes from thousands of carved figures, sentinels from an ancient world.

Ralph lowered the light. “Look!” Across the floor of the dark cavern, a path of beaten gold wound from the passage’s opening over to the rumbling river and followed the course deeper into the warren of caves. The bright path disappeared around a curve in the cavern wall.

“Amazing,” Sam said.

Ralph spoke at his shoulder. “The other chamber must have been a decoy, a trap protecting what lies ahead.”

Sam stepped forward, tentatively placing a boot on the gold path. “But what have we discovered?”

Maggie moved to his side as Norman snapped a few pictures. “We’ve found a place to rest. And that’s enough for now.”

The others mumbled their agreement, thirst and exhaustion overwhelming wonder and mystery.

Even Sam agreed. The mysteries could wait ’til morning. Still, as the others moved forward down the curving gold path toward the river, Sam could not help but notice how the shining track bore a distinct resemblance to a winding snake.

A golden serpent.

Henry sat by his computer and watched the on-screen phone connections whir through their internet nodes, the modem buzzing and chiming in sync. “C’mon, Sam, pick up the damn phone,” he muttered to himself. It was at least the tenth time he had tried to reach the camp in Peru.

Various scenarios played in his head – from the mundane, such as a glitch in the site’s satellite feed, to the more frightening scene of an armed attack on the camp by looters. “I should never have left.”

Henry glanced to the clock in the upper right-hand corner of his laptop’s screen. It was after eleven. He took a deep breath, calming his war of nerves. There might even be a simpler reason for the lack of response. Because of the burglary and the ensuing paperwork with hotel security, Henry had been over twenty minutes late in making his call. The students probably gave up on him and were already sound asleep in their bunks.

Still, Henry waited one last time for the line to feed through to Peru. He watched the screen icon appear, indicating the satellite had been reached. The signal leaped for the metal transmitting dish at the Andean site. Henry held his breath. But again the signal died, no connection.

“Damn!” Henry slammed his fist on the desk as the modem switched off. Though there were a thousand other excuses for the lack of connection, Henry knew in his heart something was wrong. A creeping dread. Once before, he had experienced a similar fear, the day his brother Frank – Sam’s dad – had died in the car crash. He recalled that phone call at four in the morning, the cold sensation of terror as he had reached for the receiver. He now felt a similar dread.

Something had happened down in Peru. He just knew it.

Henry reached for the computer once again, but before his hand touched a key, the phone beside the laptop rang loudly, startling him. His heart in his throat, he stared at the receiver, flashing back to that horrible morning years ago. He clenched his fist. “Get ahold of yourself, Henry,” he said, forcing his fingers to relax. Closing his eyes and girding himself, he picked up the phone and raised it to his ear. “Hello?”

A woman’s voice answered. “Henry? It’s Joan.”