“Dude, is that the ruins of some lost city?” He turned to Simáo. “How long have you known about this place?”
Their guide laughed. “Many people are fooled. It is natural formation in the rock. I can no say how it happen.”
As they passed alongside the rock formations, Dane could see how someone could mistake this place for the site of ancient construction. The natural rock lay in regular, even layers, giving the impression of stone work. Vertical shears created the illusion of corners and right angles. One shape even resembled an arched doorway.
“Man, this is unbelievable.” For the first time all day, Willis actually laid down the Mossberg 501A1 shotgun he carried, and looked on in fascination. “And you’re sure this ain’t the real thing?”
“Is real, yes. Made by man? No.”
Following Jimmy’s application of the Fawcett map to modern maps, they left the river just beyond the stone formation. Dane thought they might have to search for the hidden branch of the Xingu to which they had to portage, but Bones solved that problem immediately.
“Someone’s been through here. Several someones.” He squatted down to inspect the ground about ten paces from the river’s edge. “I see scuff marks and some bent grass.”
“How long ago were they here?” Kaylin knelt down next to Bones and squinted in the direction he was looking, as if she too could see the signs.
“I’m not that good, but I appreciate your confidence in me, chick. There are a few plants back home that, if they’re broken off, I can make a fair guess by the amount of wilting, but not here. I can tell you, though, that they went thataway.” He pointed off into the distance, like a general commanding his troops.
Leaving the others behind, Dane and Bones scouted ahead, making sure they had a clear path for the boats. The trail snaked through a dense patch of jungle growth, leading them back toward the rock formation, where they passed between two high walls of stone that Dane, despite knowing their natural origin, still could have sworn were wrought by human hands.
They emerged on a bluff overlooking a waterfall that poured out from an underground channel below their feet, feeding a narrow river that churned its way into the jungle and out of sight.
“Somewhere back there, the Xingu runs underground and comes out here,” Dane said, looking down. “And with this branch of the river being so narrow, it’s no wonder it escaped the notice of map-makers. It didn’t even show up on Jimmy’s satellite images, though, thanks to Fawcett, we knew it was here. I’ll wager not many people outside local natives even know about it.”
“Dark and dangerous. Sounds like my kind of place.” Bones cracked his knuckles. “So, are we ready to haul all those freakin’ supplies and the boats over here?”
Dane would have groaned in mock-complaint, but just then, something caught his eye. Twenty feet away, almost completely hidden by undergrowth, a body lay face down on the ground. Dane drew his Walther and dropped to one knee. Glock in hand, Bones was at his side in an instant, looking all around.
“What are we looking for?”
“Probably nothing,” Dane replied. “See that body over there?” Bones cursed at the sight. “Not a local, unless the tribes around here are African-American with a buzz cuts, t-shirts, and camo pants.”
He looked around. Obviously, if anyone had a gun and meant them harm, they’d already be dead, or at least have been shot at. Besides, from the looks of things, the dead man’s head had been bashed in, which meant he’d probably been attacked by a local. After they’d waited long enough to satisfy themselves that no one was about to attack them, they went for a closer look.
The back of the man’s skull was crushed. Dane didn’t have enough experience with such things to know how many times he’d been hit, or with what type of object, but he definitely had not been shot. He rolled the man’s body over onto his back and his eyes widened in surprise.
“That’s one of the dudes that came after us in London,” Bones said, kneeling to check the man’s pockets for identification. He came up empty. “I guess a local killed him and took whatever he was carrying.”
“If he’s from ScanoGen,” Dane said, looking around, “where is the rest of his group?”
“I guess they left him behind. Those are some cold characters, bro.”
“Another reason I’m going to keep my eyes open and my guard up,” Dane said. “Let’s get those boats down to the river and see if we can’t ruin their day.
Chapter 17
“There’s the second landmark.” Kennedy pointed straight ahead, where a large, gray object rose up out of the water. It was a dome-shaped rock at least ten feet high, and it looked to Tam like a giant tortoise cutting through the water as the river rushed past it on either side of it. Centuries, millennia of erosion had worn away a few inches of the base on either side, adding to the tortoise-shell illusion. Faint lines carved into its surface indicated that, at some point in the past, humans had also seen the resemblance and sought to augment it by carving a tortoise shell pattern into the stone. Had she been a tourist, she would have stopped to take pictures, but time was a luxury she did not have. In fact, it bothered her that these stray thoughts even entered her mind. What was wrong with her? She had a job to do.
“That’s a relief,” she said, though she hated speaking to Kennedy at all. “I was hoping the map-maker didn’t intend for us to take a right at the first turtle that came swimming up to the boat.”
The corner of Kennedy’s mouth turned up in a false half-smile, but that was the only response. He was angry about Jay’s death, but if he knew the truth, he’d kill Tam, or at least, try to. She had a feeling the two of them were headed for a reckoning sooner or later, but for now, she needed him.
“Go right at the fork,” she told the guide who piloted their boat. Now that two of the landmarks had proved to be real, her confidence was bolstered, and she was eager to press on toward their destination.
“When can we stop and eat?” Even riding in a different boat, Cy managed to get on her last nerve. Despite his recent spate of screw-ups, and the death of his partner, he seemed to believe he was only a notch below Kennedy in the pecking order, and in his mind, Kennedy was at the top of the food chain on this expedition. He bullied their guides and condescended to the three ScanoGen security agents, all of whom were ex-military men Tam had brought along for extra muscle and firepower. Add in the fact that he made no bones about his belief that Tam was in charge in name only, and she was seriously considering going ahead with Salvatore’s orders regarding Cy, no matter what her conscience might tell her.
“Later,” she snapped. “Keep a lookout on both sides of the river for something that looks like an open mouth. Once we find it, there’s a side channel somewhere around it that we’ll need to take.”
“Shut up and look,” Kennedy snapped, not looking back at Cy. Perhaps Tam should have appreciated the support, but she knew it was simply Kennedy trying to assert some authority over the only man on this trip who was clearly loyal to him.
“If you say so.” Cy made it clear that the “you” to whom he was referring was Kennedy, not Tam. He took off his cap and fanned at the cloud of mosquitoes that swirled around his head.
Biting and stinging insects were just a few of the minor perils of the Amazon. They all wore long pants and long-sleeved shirts, and frequently doused themselves with the finest insect repellent money could buy. Cy, however, still managed to draw a cloud of swarming pests. They hovered around him, seemingly waiting for his repellent to wear off so they could suck him dry. He complained about it incessantly, pointing out that no one else received similar treatment from the flying nuisances. She could not help but laugh at the man’s petty annoyance, which was far less than he deserved.