“How much?”
“If I can sit down undisturbed… perhaps five or six hours.”
“Unfortunately we don’t even have an hour.” Zane took a swig from his canteen and held it up. “The water isn’t holding out as well as I thought. Nash was carrying about a third of our water supply when he went down. I made a brief survey of the group, and I think we have about a three-day supply left.”
Brett patted one of his pockets. “Remember we still have the water purification pills.”
“I was hoping we wouldn’t have to go there. All of the water down here looks like primordial ooze.”
Brett took a long draw from his bottle. “We’ll be fine. If we have a three-day supply, then that means we should be on our way back when we run low. We can always boil some river water and treat it with pills.”
“All the same, I’d prefer we get that phone up and running. I need to give the Oracle a report on Wilson. He’ll want to send in a search team, and we can get resupplied when that happens.”
“As I said, it’s going to take time. It’s not something I can fiddle around with while we’re walking.”
“I might be able to give you some time once we reach the mountain.” Zane squinted at the trail ahead. It seemed to rise a bit. He felt a surge of optimism. Perhaps it was an indication they weren’t far away. “But I can’t even consider stopping until we get there.”
“And what if we don’t find the mountain?”
“It’s there,” Zane said, his eyes still fixed on the trail ahead. “So far this place has lived up to its billing.”
Brett suddenly slowed his pace and crept toward something on the right side of the trail. As Zane followed with his eyes, he saw a large scaly tail sticking out of the foliage. It was a dull olive, sprinkled with black spots. “Green anaconda.”
Brett crouched. “Just from the size of the tail, I’d say it has to be over twenty feet.
“Easy, cowboy,” Zane said, pulling his Glock from its holster.
Brett whacked down with his stick. As soon as the stick made contact, the tail whipped sharply before disappearing into the bushes. Zane saw saplings bend back and forth as the massive reptile slowly made its retreat.
“You trying to get us killed?” Zane asked, putting the pistol away.
“Freaking garter snake, and you’re pulling a weapon.” Brett said as they began walking again.
“Garter, huh? I noticed you didn’t grab the tail.” Zane’s expression changed to a frown. “From what I’ve read, they’re almost always near water.”
Brett shrugged. “I don’t see anything. Perhaps all the rain enticed him away from home.”
“Maybe.”
About a minute later, Zane came to a halt. A shadowy figure was moving toward them with speed.
Zane instinctively unslung his rifle, but Brett grabbed his arm.
Seconds later, the figure came into view. Osak.
“I wonder where he’s been,” Zane said.
“It looks like he’s upset about something,” Brett said.
The boy stopped a few feet away. He spoke in an excited tone, pointing back in the direction he had come from.
“You want us to follow you?” Brett asked.
Osak pointed again.
“He must’ve found something,” Zane said as he turned around. He and Brett had set a fast pace, so the others were a good hundred yards back. He could see Tocchet walking alongside Katiya and Amanda.
Zane pulled out his radio. “Tocchet, do you read?”
He watched the soldier pull out his radio. “Yes, sir.”
“Osak is here. Apparently he’s found something ahead. We’re going to go check it out. Get everyone moving.”
“Roger that.”
Zane put his radio away. “Let’s go.”
As they followed Osak, Zane marveled at how effortlessly the boy ran, his feet always finding every solid patch of ground. And he never seemed to tire. It was as though they were trying to keep up with a deer.
A few minutes later, they entered a clearing, and Osak finally slowed to a walk. He turned toward them then pointed at something in the distance. At first all Zane could see was a broad stream snaking along the edge of the woods, but then he noticed that the ground sloped up sharply just beyond the stream. The mountain couldn’t be far away.
Osak led them in the direction of the stream. As they walked, he continued to speak. Something was clearly bothering him.
“Sorry, I don’t understand a word you’re saying, bud,” Zane said.
Brett pointed. “I think that’s what he’s talking about.”
Zane looked ahead, and his eyes widened. Just ahead, spanning the stream, was a large stone bridge.
“Talk about being out of place.” Zane crossed the remaining distance and stepped onto the bridge. He squatted and examined the individual stones, most of which were covered with pale-green lichen. “I’m no archaeologist, but these are some really old stones.”
Brett stood next to him. “Do you think it’s Mayan?”
“No, it’s not Mayan,” someone said from behind them.
Zane turned his head. Amanda was striding toward them, a look of shock written on her face. She approached one of the columns at the head of the bridge. “I can’t believe it. This shouldn’t be here.”
“You sure it’s not Mayan?” Brett asked.
“Positive.” She ran her hand across the surface of the lichen-covered stone. “I would know this architecture anywhere. Besides, they never lived here.”
There were little gasps of surprise as the others arrived and spread out across the bridge.
Brett looked over at Amanda. “I know the Mayans were in modern-day Mexico, but I thought they were also in South America.”
“No, never.” Amanda shook her head.
“She’s right,” Katiya said as she bent over to examine the stone. “Besides, this doesn’t look anything like Mayan construction.”
Zane frowned. “Then who built it?”
Amanda walked farther down and pointed at one of the pylons that wasn’t covered by quite as much lichen. “Look at the seam. Notice anything?”
Zane shook his head.
“There’s no mortar, as far as I can tell. The Mayans almost always used a special mortar they made from limestone.”
“So if this wasn’t built with mortar, how has it held up for so long?” Brett asked. “It looks like it’s been here for hundreds of years.”
Amanda ran her finger along one of the joints. “See how tightly the stones are fit together? They were cut and stacked so precisely that no mortar was necessary.”
Zane could see what she meant about the fit. It was so tight he doubted you could even slide a razor blade in there.
“Well, if not the Mayans, then who?” Brett asked.
“It’s possible this was built by the same people who built the ancient megaliths in Peru,” she said. “The construction looks eerily similar.”
“Where those the Incas?” Zane asked.
“That’s what most would say.”
“You don’t sound too convinced.”
“It’s possible the Incas built this bridge,” Amanda said. “But there is another possibility.” She patted one of the crowns at the top of one of the pylons. “This construction seems a lot like the citadel at Saksaywaman, as well as a number of other megaliths there.”
“What’s similar about it?” Brett asked.
“The large stones, the precise cuts, and the lack of mortar.”
Katiya raised a finger in the air. “That reminds me of something I read a while back. As you explore archaeological sites in Peru, you often find that the more technologically advanced construction is farther down in the strata. Normally, it’s the other way around. Normally, the farther down you dig, the more primitive the buildings.”
“She’s right,” Amanda said with a nod. “In fact, there’s a city in central Peru where you can see this for yourself. A number of buildings there were added to over time. One was built right on top of another. The older, lower parts have stones that are cut and fit so precisely that it would be difficult to reproduce, even with modern-day equipment. Then, above that, you see the newer construction that is actually more primitive. It’s almost like the stones were just mortared together haphazardly. There’s little or no evidence of precision.