“I’d say his English was pretty good,” Charlene said.
“He had a guide book. In Spanish, but there were pictures.”
“A tourist trap?” Finn said.
“Not hardly. It was being excavated, but they ran out of money a long time ago. In the guidebook it’s marked as the highest level of difficulty for hiking. There’s no water, and it’s not policed.”
“That has Overtakers written all over it,” Finn said.
When Willa failed to comment, Finn gave her a moment and then turned toward her. He’d given his helmet to her, so with the wind in his face he couldn’t hear well.
“What?” he shouted. “Why do you look like that?”
“It wasn’t just the money that stopped them from digging it up.” Willa shouted to be heard over the complaining motor. “The site was apparently used for sacrifices. Human sacrifices. People thought it was haunted.”
“Human sacrifice.” Finn made it a statement. He leaned forward to Charlene. “Please tell me you can make this thing go faster.”
* * *
Maybeck and Philby stayed well back of the white van, part by design, part by default.
Losing the van on the flats multiple times, they were able to regain it on the jungle hills where the van struggled under a heavy load. Nonetheless, it was somewhat by chance that Philby spotted the vehicle off-road, penetrating deeper into the jungle.
He tapped Maybeck on the shoulder and pointed. Maybeck slowed the scooter and pulled to the side of the empty dirt road.
“What now?” Maybeck asked.
Philby looked back: Charlene was nowhere in sight.
“We can’t wait for them,” Maybeck said.
“No. And you and I have to stay together. So pull up to where the van turned in and let me hop off a second.”
Maybeck did as requested. Philby clipped the chin strap of his helmet to a vine, leaving it hanging low where it might be spotted.
“Brilliant!”
Philby smiled. “That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”
It had become a common joke among the Keepers—their parents and guardians were receiving direct-deposit monthly performance fees in educational accounts to help fund a Keeper’s college enrollment; the kids themselves never saw a dime.
A wooden sign sagged away from the road, its message faded and covered in vines.
“Not so sure about the bike,” Maybeck said. “It’s too loud.”
“They could be miles down this road.”
“Agreed. But they could hear us coming.”
“That would make for an unpleasant welcoming party.”
“As long as the…path”—Philby could hardly call it a road—“goes straight, and we can see the van’s tracks out ahead, we can stay on the bike. We’ll go real slow, so it barely makes noise. If we lose the tire tracks, we’ll shut it down and walk until we know what’s going on.”
“Got it.”
They rode ahead, eyes trained on the tracks left by the heavy van.
“Whoa!” said Philby after five minutes. The dirt trail narrowed, the jungle encroaching. “Nasty.”
They climbed off and walked the scooter. The trail narrowed even further, barely wide enough for the two boys walking side by side. They formed a single file, Maybeck in the lead, pushing the bike. The crushed plants and vines indicated the passage of the van; tire tracks were no longer easy to see. It was darker here, the jungle blotting out the sun.
“I’m stashing this thing,” Maybeck said. “It’s a pain in the butt to push.”
The boys leaned it behind a dead stump of a tree, fifteen feet tall, easy to spot among the rest of the overgrowth and well off the trail.
“This place is bizarre.”
“It is,” Philby agreed. “I think it’s safe to assume they’re heading to an ancient temple or archaeological site.”
“If you say so.”
“There were whole cities in these places a thousand years ago.”
“Spare me the history lesson.”
“I’m just saying.”
“Well, don’t. We shouldn’t talk. I’ll take the lead,” Maybeck said. “Hand signals only until we know what’s going on.”
“You going to take your helmet off?”
“Oh, shut up!” He unstrapped the helmet and left it with the bike. As he did, he whispered, “What if the others see your signal but don’t shut off their bike? What if they mess this up?”
“I trust them,” Philby declared.
“Yeah? Well good for you. Me? I’ll wait to make that call.”
“You can’t wait on trust. You either have it or you don’t.”
“Lose the professor thing, would you? We’ve got a monster to track down. And don’t forget Dillard.”