The following is an excerpt from the Mike Scott thriller Heart of the Maya.  

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Hector stopped his truck 100 yards away from the entrance, pulling it off the rocky, bumpy road into a space between some trees. They would walk the rest of the way in. The walk from the smaller cenote opening to the larger one was another two hundred yards above ground although the terrain was going to be rough. The local Mayan community kept the location of the smaller entrance secret and there was no path between the two. Still, it couldn’t be helped. They didn’t want to tip off Montero that Grandfather was there before they were ready. Hector and Grandfather knew the area, though, so Mike simply followed along. He didn’t know if Grandfather had some special otherworldly guidance or had visions like he had at the hotel when he agreed to bring Mike and Hector along. But he hoped the man was getting help from above right at the moment so none of them twisted an ankle or broke a leg and failed to even get close to Montero and his followers. They had to save Alivia.

Mike wasn’t sure what role the twins were supposed to play. He didn’t know if they were actually in danger, or whether they were just to there for the ceremony. Regardless, he didn’t want to two 12-year-olds to be involved in a murder just because they were born twins and could fulfill a legend in the twisted mind of a Mexican drug dealer.

The sky continued to lighten as the threesome crept through the woods. They began to hear noise ahead of them. Montero was making no secret about what was going on. He had invited all of his followers to witness the sacrifice. When Mike got close enough to see the edge of the cenote, his jaw dropped. He saw more than 100 Mayans gathered around the upper edge. When Mike and Hector entered the water the day before, they had done so through a series of steps built into the lower side of the opening where the limestone had collapsed over the years.

Montero had staked out the higher side of the cenote like a stage. He wanted to be the center of attention and make sure everyone could see him.

The drug dealer turned wanna-be Mayan leader and resurrectionist stood quietly at the top of the hill. He was wrapped in a robe covered in traditional designs and colors portraying ancient gods and symbols of leaders from long past. Grandfather snorted when he saw the younger man.

“A shawl we make for tourists,” was all he said.

Montero spoke to his followers to get their attention and Mike immediately knew he was going to have a problem. Montero was speaking in Mayan. His grasp on Spanish wasn’t very strong, but Mayan was completely alien to him. There was no way Hector would be able to translate for him to keep him up to speed with what was going on either. He wasn’t going to be much help here.

“My friends, the time has come. Everyone come together! The time has come to begin the Fourth Age of the Mayan people and to reclaim our lost glory,” Montero said, his face exultant at the situation as if he truly believed he was about to receive blessing from the gods.

Mike stared for a moment, trying to decide what to do. His eyes searched the crowd and the cenote for some way to help. Grandfather was right about the armed men. Throughout the crowd, Mike could see Montero’s soldiers armed with handguns and submachine guns, rifles and shotguns. They were spread out among the common people. Mike guessed they were there to encourage people to be supportive and cheer or pray at the appropriate times as well as to keep anyone from protesting what was going on. It was a good strategy, but it told Mike that not everyone there in the audience was a die-hard participant. That was a good thing.

Mike made eye contact with Hector and Grandfather and he realized they had come to the same conclusion. They hadn’t planned out how they were going to stop the sacrifice. At least Mike and Hector didn’t know what Grandfather planned or saw in his vision. He wasn’t sharing. The realization that some of the people in the audience might be swayed to see reason and not follow Montero was what the old mystic needed to see to make his decision. Mike saw that in Grandfather’s eyes.

“Tell me about the sacrifice,” Mike whispered. “Will they cut her before they throw her in the cenote? Or just throw her in to drown?”

Grandfather was quiet for a moment, considering his answer.

“The legend says that when Red Bird was sacrificed in the cenote, he was thrown into the water without being cut or having his blood let out. I believe Montero will attempt to duplicate that same ceremony here today. He wants to make a strong connection to the legend of Red Bird and the statue of Two Wolves before he shows them that he possesses the statue. I believe he will attempt to drown her in the holy waters by throwing her in from above.”

Mike considered the drop and the fall. And then he thought about the armed men and the crowd above and made his decision. He wasn’t going to be much use to Grandfather and Hector in dealing with Montero, but he had an idea how he could save Alivia. He hoped he wouldn’t be needed, but it was better than sitting here and doing nothing.

As quickly as he could he explained his plans to Hector and Grandfather.

“It is as I have seen, Michael,” Grandfather said. “Everything is becoming clear.”

“I don’t know about that, but it’s time for me to go,” Mike said.

As quietly as he could, Mike turned and began moving back toward Hector’s truck leaving the two men to face Montero alone. As soon as he felt safe, Mike stood up and began running toward the truck. He knew he didn’t have much time to save Alivia.

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Get your copy of Heart of the Maya today, in softcover or Kindle. It is also part of the Mike Scott Boxed Set that includes the first five novels and two short stories.

The following is an excerpt from the Mike Scott thriller Heart of the Maya.  

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This sacrifice would be different. The king said Red Bird was to drown in the Holy Cenote. Red Bird himself had offered his share of offerings into the Holy Cenote. He knew the process.

Once all was prepared, the priests would come and tie him to a board. They would drape him with flowers and lead a procession toward the Holy Cenote. Feathered Warrior would even be there as well to participate in the ceremony, making it that much more special. He would tell the elite who attended that the gods themselves had ordered this sacrifice.

Red Bird wondered why the gods hadn’t told him that directly as he was lifted into the air for the march through the streets. He could smell the tallow burning all around him and he could hear the sounds of the incantations, but the potion clouded his mind, blending them together.

Was this really ordained, or was Feathered Warrior just jealous and eliminating competition?

At the water’s edge, Red Bird’s eyes began to focus. As he expected, Feathered Warrior was there and he was speaking, commanding his people to obey and commanding nature to accept the offering. It was obvious to Red Bird, if no one else present, that the king was as afraid of the people as he was afraid of the elements and the gods. The clarity that came from the potion showed Red Bird that his former king, and friend, hoped this sacrifice would discourage the leading warriors and priests from rising up against him.

With a suddenness that caught Red Bird off guard, he was lifted into the air and then he felt his body falling. His arms were bound behind him, but his feet were free. His eyes were open as he fell.

Hitting the water was startling for Red Bird. He had never been in water over his head before. He didn’t know how to swim and had no idea how long it would take for him to die. Red Bird noticed the water was warm and it felt good surrounding him. He felt at peace and at ease.

As he sank, his mouth closed and he held his breath, something it hadn’t occurred to him to do before. Red Bird opened his eyes and looked upward. He could see the light from above and could just make out the bodies of the priests, warriors and the king standing around the edge of the cenote, watching him disappear.

Red Bird didn’t know what happened when a living man was thrown in the Holy Cenote and he guessed no one else did either. He knew in his mind that the gods were there waiting on the sacrifice and would take the body away. He simply hoped it would be one of the kind and benevolent gods, not the violent and terrible ones. He hoped the gods would come quickly, ending his suffering.

The opening to the cenote seemed to move further and further away. Red Bird wondered if he was already dead and moving toward the nether world with the gods.

Red Bird’s body began to scream at him through the potion-induced haze. He needed air and he needed to breathe. He realized he wasn’t in the realm of the gods yet. He felt a fire in his chest and his vision turned red. He pulled on the ropes binding his hands and realized they were loosening. He knew, without thinking about what it might mean, that he didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to be a sacrifice to the gods. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if all of the men he had put to death felt the same way.

It didn’t matter what he wanted, though. The gods would surely come for him to receive their sacrifice. Another pull and twist and suddenly Red Bird’s hands were free. His mind was starting to rage and his lungs felt like they were going to explode. Red Bird expected to burst into flames at any second.

The opening to the sky and the light where the king stood and ordered Red Bird cast into the water grew smaller and smaller as the water pulled him down. And then Red Bird noticed another light ahead of him. It began to grow larger.

The gods must be there. That is the opening to the underworld and the gods will receive me there as the sacrifice. Wanting the pain in his chest to end, Red Bird began to pull toward the light. He didn’t know how to swim, but he reached out with both hands and pulled at the water. His head began to grow light. He was sure it was the gods pulling him in. He relaxed knowing the pain would be no more in just a moment. He found his arms couldn’t move anymore; they were heavy. The light grew larger and Red Bird closed his eyes as he drifted toward the light.

The sacrifice was complete.

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Get your copy of Heart of the Maya today, in softcover or Kindle. It is also part of the Mike Scott Boxed Set that includes the first five novels and two short stories.

The following is an excerpt from the Mike Scott thriller Heart of the Maya.  

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“How do you want to handle this?” Rich asked.

“Let’s take it easy. I only have a couple of goals for this dive. I want to take a look at that tablet Erick found. We’ll clean it off and photograph it. And then I want to see if we can figure out where those old drag marks came from and see if we can tell what came out of there. Lastly, I want to make it back to the surface alive,” Mike said, without humor.

“Roger that. I’ll be your wingman on this one. You just direct me where you want to go,” Rich agreed.

“I really don’t expect to be underwater too long, probably 15 or 20 minutes at the most. And we have a maximum of 100 feet, right?”

“That’s right. We’ve each got a little more than 100 feet of air hose. I could get more if you want, though,” Rich said.

“No, let’s keep it simple. If the cave system goes on further than that, we’ll leave that up to the professional cave explorers. We’d need a lot more equipment and support if we were going to do that,” Mike said.

After a quick safety check of their equipment, Mike and Rich zipped up their DUI drysuits to protect them from the cool, spring-fed cave water and donned their facemasks. They confirmed they could hear each other and that Sophia could hear them as well. The moved to the far side of the pool of water and did their best to enter the water as gently as they could. They didn’t want to stir up the sediment. There was no water flow and they had no way of knowing how long it would take the water to clear again if they stirred up a silt cloud. As soon as both men were floating on the surface of the water they agreed to submerge. Mike was carrying Rich’s camera in the underwater housing and both men were carrying dive lights and backups as well.

The communications gear they were using made both divers sound as if they were talking inside of a tin can and they had to listen to each other inhale and exhale, but at least they could hear each other.

“This water looks great, Rich. It’s like the freshwater springs in Florida,” Mike said. “A bit colder, though.”

“You’re right about that. It’s like swimming in air. One difference. Remember, there’s no current. Keep your fins up off the bottom,” Rich said.

“No doubt about that. Okay, come around me and let’s look at the tablet first. I want to get a couple photographs of you cleaning it off and then I’ll take some close ups of it.”

Rich was much more comfortable diving in close, confined spaces like this and accomplishing a task. He did it every day. He easily moved around behind Mike and approached the outline of the submerged tablet where it rested just a few feet below the water. Mike marveled at the man’s ability to glide through the water, barely appearing to move a muscle. Using a gloved hand, Rich pushed the accumulated silt off of the flat rock, being as careful as he could. He traced the outline of the mostly-square rock and then spent a little more time cleaning sediment out of the grooves carved into the stone.

“Mike I see a problem already. I can tell that this has been carved, but it looks like someone hit it with a hammer a few times. Some of the symbols are messed up.”

“Can you tell if the damage is ancient, or it’s been done more recently?”

“Just a guess, but I would say more recently. The grooves from the original carvings are pretty smooth, like they’ve been underwater for a long, long time. But when I run my fingers across where it looks like it was hit, the edges are a lot sharper.”

“Someone tried to destroy it, or at least hide what it said. That tells me something is going on here.”

“I wish I could see what you guys are seeing,” Sophia said, startling both divers.

“Hey there kid. How’re you doing up there? I almost forgot about you,” Mike said.

“I’m fine. It’s a little creepy up here all by myself, but I’m okay.”

“Hang tight. We won’t be too much longer,” Mike said. “Rich, if you have it cleaned off, let me move in there and get some close ups. We might be able to tell something from the symbols that are left undamaged.”

Rich backed away from the stone tablet and Mike moved in, photographing as he went. When he got close enough, he filled the camera frame with the tablet and took a few more images. Then he moved in even closer, thankful that the camera had a built-in close up feature, and took photographs of individual carvings as well.

“Now what?” Rich asked when Mike appeared to be finished.

“Let’s follow the path of the drag marks.”

“Roger that.”

Just a few feet away, both men could easily see where two parallel mounds led down deeper into the submerged cave with an unnaturally flat spot between them.

“Put your hand in the middle of the mounds. I want to get some scale,” Mike directed his old friend.

“Got it. Looks like it was about a foot wide,” Rich said. “And pretty heavy, too.”

“I agree. Whoever did it probably wrapped a rope around it and just pulled it up to the surface,” Mike said.

Rich was slightly ahead of Mike as they followed their lights deeper into the cave when he suddenly stopped.

“What is it?”

“I found the end of the road,” Rich said. “The trail stops here.”

“Okay. Let me come around you,” Mike said.

“That’s good because you’re almost out of hose up here,” Sophia said.

“Roger that. We’re only about 25 feet underwater, but we’ve moved horizontally back inside the cave,” Rich said.

The two men hovered just above the bottom, barely breathing as they stared at the end of the line. They could clearly see where something used to sit, but it was long gone now.

“There is sediment built up on three sides. Whatever it was sat here for a long time,” Mike said. “Maybe a statue or a carving of some sort.”

“Someone discovered it and decided they wanted it for themselves,” Rich agreed.

“I’m betting that tablet at the surface was some clue it was back here. Whoever took it didn’t want anyone else to know what was down here. They couldn’t pull it out so they tried to destroy it,” Mike said.

“You think Erick was on to it? And someone decided they wanted it more than they wanted him to find it?” Rich asked.

“Sounds like a pretty reasonable explanation to me.”

“But who?”

“If we knew the answer to that, we’d probably know who killed Erick in the first place,” Mike said.

“No doubt in my mind that Erick was killed now,” Rich said.

“Mine either,” Mike said. “Let me get a few more photographs and then let’s get out of here.”

Mike covered the entire scene, thinking like a crime scene photographer instead of a photojournalist at the moment. He did his best to capture minute details and anything out of the ordinary, rather than worrying about telling a complete story with the photographs.

“All right. That’ll do it. Sophia, we’re coming up. Pull on the air hoses so they don’t get tangled.”

Both men were quiet for a moment, expecting the young girl to answer them, but they were met with silence.

“Sophia, are you there?”

Still nothing.

“Do you think she got scared and went outside?” Rich asked.

“I doubt it, Rich. She would want to be there when we got out. Let’s get to the surface.”

“I’ve got some more bad news for you,” Rich said. “We’re running out of air.”

“How could that be? We haven’t been down here that long,” Mike said.

“It’s getting harder to inhale. We’ve still got some air left in the hose, but there isn’t as much pressure behind it. Let’s get out of here,” Rich said, his voice eerily calm in the face of an emergency.

###

 

Get your copy of Heart of the Maya today, in softcover or Kindle. It is also part of the Mike Scott Boxed Set that includes the first five novels and two short stories.

The following is an excerpt from the Mike Scott thriller Wreck of the Huron. 

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In their tight confines, Mike held Sarah around the waist to keep her steady while she prepared to push her scuba gear over her head into the opening. She wrapped her leg around his while she got everything into position. For a moment, Mike’s mind wandered again, but this time he was thinking about something more immediate — the feel of her skin on his. Sarah must have sensed his thoughts because this time she looked him in the eyes again. She was still smiling, but this time there was a different expression on her face. She squeezed his arm tightly and nodded.

After a moment, she released her grip and began looking upward again. She pushed her gear ahead of her with one hand and her dive light in the other. Mike watched as Sarah’s scuba cylinder and buoyancy jacket slipped through the hole, followed by her head and then her shoulders. In a moment, she was completely out of sight.

It must go up further than it looked, Mike thought to himself. He sat still, waiting and watching for what felt like 10 minutes, but was probably no more than a few seconds. Then, Sarah’s head reappeared back down through the hole. She motioned for him to come up.

Mike repeated the steps Sarah had just gone through. He unbuckled the buoyancy jacket that kept the scuba gear and air cylinder in place and then bundled it all together in tight package. He kept the regulator in his mouth and turned the scuba unit upside down. To give him the most room to move around the top of the unit had to stay close to his face. He pushed the bottom end of the cylinder through the hole first and then began swimming up after it.

The hole had been a tight fit for Sarah. Mike knew it was going to be tougher for him to fit his broad shoulders through the space into the cave above. Mike just hoped it opened up quickly once he was through the hole. Keeping his arms above his head helped him narrow his profile slightly. He felt the rocks scrape against his arms and shoulders. Mike was afraid he was going to get stuck for a moment until he felt Sarah grab his arm and pull him through the sticking point. With that, he was in the cave. It was only in his imagination, but he almost thought he heard a pop when he cleared the narrow opening.

Mike quickly realized he was seated on a rock in three feet of water. His head had broken the water’s surface. Sarah was standing up. She had taken her regulator out of her mouth and was taking off her fins.

“Are you nuts?” Mike shouted. “The air might not be safe to breathe!”

“You’re breathing it now, too,” Sarah replied, her eyes dancing.

“Only after I saw you doing it,” Mike grumbled.

“I knew you were right behind me. If I passed out, you could get me out of here,” Sarah reasoned. “One of us had to test it.”

“Fine. But next time at least let me get through the hole first,” Mike said.

“Sure. Next time you and I wiggle into an air-filled sea cave, I’ll let you be the one to test the air,” Sarah laughed.

“You better,” Mike said smiling.

“If you’re finished being grumpy, take a look around.”

“Pffft.” Mike snorted, but he did shine his light toward the ceiling of the cave. It was much higher than he expected, rising at least 15 feet over the water level. It was larger than he expected, too. Toward the back of the cave, he could see what looked like an opening into another room. The floor was mostly flat, almost worn smooth.

He turned to face the front of the cave, where it should have been open to the outside. What he saw confirmed that the once-open cave had definitely been closed off. He had no way of knowing if it was closed intentionally, or if it was a natural rock slide, but the opening was filled with rocks and other rubble.

Sarah pulled herself out of the water and laid her gear beside the opening to the pool. Mike pushed his dive gear toward her and she lifted it out too. Mike climbed out beside it. The air inside the cave was cool, but neither of them was uncomfortable even though they were dripping wet.

“Let’s take a quick look around, but we can’t stay in here too long. The guys outside will freak out,” Mike said.

“Agreed,” Sarah said, already in motion with her light pointed at the ceiling. “Look at this. Are these cave paintings?”

“I’ve read about pre-Columbian paintings in some caves in this area,” Mike said. “They looked similar to these. The ones I read about were only discovered after the beginning of the 20^th century, though.”

“That could mean this cave was closed off before then. When did you say the Huron wrecked again?” Sarah asked.

“It went down in 1877. I know what you’re thinking and it makes sense. If the cave was where the Huron was headed but never made it, maybe they closed it off,” Mike agreed. “I wish I had brought my camera along.”

“We didn’t quite know we were going to go cave exploring today, after a quick dive and cave penetration,” Sarah said with a smirk.

“It never occurred to me to grab my underwater housing for my camera gear,” Mike agreed. “We’ll have to come back later.”

They looked around the small cave room but saw nothing else of significance. The walls looked like they had been eroded over time, making them nearly smooth. The roof of the cave was egg-shaped with the fat, rounder part of the egg ending in the water.

“Do you want to check out the next room?” Sarah asked, gesturing toward the small opening near the floor.

Mike shined his light at the opening for the first time. It was nearly three feet high and rounded. But Mike immediately realized there was a problem. The hole was blocked.

“We’re not going through that way,” he said.

“Why not? Oh. I couldn’t see that before,” Sarah said as she moved closer.

Two feet inside the opening there was a flat wall. Sarah kneeled down and touched it. It was cool to the touch. Iron. It was a man-made plate of some kind.

“Does it move?” Mike asked as he kneeled down beside Sarah.

She pushed with one hand, and then with two, but the iron plate didn’t move at all.

“Let me try,” Mike said. He dropped onto his stomach so he could get a better angle to push with both hands. Nothing. He turned around and pushed with his feet. Still nothing. Mike kicked it, but all they heard was a hollow ringing sound.

“Just like a man, always going for brute force,” Sarah said with a chuckle.

“Checking to see if it’s rusted shut. Who knows, maybe I can break it free,” Mike said, but after Sarah’s teasing, he didn’t kick the plate again.

“Come here and look at this,” Sarah said, shining her light at the cold metal. “It almost looks like a key slot on this side.”

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Get your copy of Wreck of the Huron today, in softcover or Kindle. It is also part of the Mike Scott Boxed Set that includes the first five novels and two short stories.