The Deadly Curse of Toco-Rey Read online

  The microscope had its own lamp to illuminate the slide. She found the little switch and clicked it on. Then she peered through the eyepiece and slowly turned the focus wheel.

  What in the world? This was no bug. Maybe it was dust, like Dr. Basehart had said. But it was the weirdest looking dust she’d ever seen: thousands of little fuzzy balls—they looked like cockle burrs, or chestnut husks, or sea urchins—with sharp quills sticking out all over them. They looked absolutely wicked.

  These were in her nose? She shuddered at the thought and clicked off the microscope. She had to know more.

  With the flashlight beam low, she moved silently to the partition that divided the trailer in half.

  Maybe there was nothing important back there after all, but just the fact that Dr. Basehart kept it closed all the time was reason enough for her to want to open it.

  She placed her hand on the small plastic handle and slowly drew the partition to the side.

  Something glimmered in the beam of her flashlight.

  She gasped, her hand over her mouth, frozen in terror and disbelief as a horrible revelation streamed into her mind.

  What to do? Where to go?

  She had to get out of there. She had to find her father and brother.

  She clicked off the flashlight, slipped it back into its little holder, and stole out the trailer door. Dad, Jay, where are you?

  Dr. Basehart’s trailer was still dark. There was no visible activity. She hurried toward her trailer, constantly looking over her shoulder. If she could just get back there and try to act normal—

  BUMP! She leaped with a start. The gasp she drew in could have inflated a blimp. She tried not to scream but a small squeak escaped her throat. She’d bumped into someone or some . . . thing. It hollered, just as startled as she was, and started stumbling in the dark, trying to recover.

  “Shhh!!!” she shushed it.

  The wide and startled eyes of her brother gawked back at her. “Lila! What are you doing here?”

  She waved her hands to shush him and hissed, “Will you be quiet? You’ll wake everybody up!”

  “You’re all right?” he whispered back, touching her to be sure she was real. “You’re still green.”

  “I’m okay,” she answered. Then she started tugging him toward Dr. Basehart’s lab. “Come on! I’ve got to show you something!”

  “But Dad’s in trouble! The Kachakas have him!”

  “We’re all in trouble!”

  They stole quickly into the lab trailer. Lila got the flashlight and then drew back the partition.

  Jay took one look into the room beyond and then moaned. “You’re right. We’re all in trouble.”

  On two wide shelves against the rear wall were the golden vase, cups, jewelry, figurines—everything— from the Corys’ video.

  “What are we going to do?” Lila wondered.

  CLICK! The sound of the light switch and the sudden flood of light made them gasp and jump and spin around.

  There in the doorway, with one hand on the light switch and a gun in the other, was Dr. Armond Basehart. “I thought I heard some noise over here. Looks like I’ve found two little mice sticking their noses where they don’t belong.” He got a cunning gleam in his eye. “You’ve asked a very astute question, Miss Cooper. Now that you know our little secret, just what are we going to do?”

  EIGHT

  Dr. Basehart stepped into the trailer and then beckoned to someone outside. Immediately, Tomás climbed through the door, eyeing the kids grimly, ready to do his boss’s bidding.

  “So I guess you’ve figured it out by now,” Dr. Basehart said resignedly. “There never was a raid on the Corys’ camp. I may as well tell you, the Kachakas can give quite a show of strength and they are excellent hunters, but when it comes to violent raids and murder . . .” He just shook his head.

  “So what really happened to the Corys?” Lila asked.

  “The same thing that happened to you. The ‘Curse of Toco-Rey.’ They went crazy, tore up their own camp, and then ran into the jungle like animals. As your brother can tell you, one of them is dead, his bones picked clean by the carvies.”

  “But what about those graves?” Jay asked.

  “Fake, just like the poison darts you found.” Dr. Basehart chuckled. “Well, one grave is genuine, as was the blood you found in the tent. Another worker of mine, Chico Valles, was killed by a crazed Cory. We buried him, then created two mock graves so we could tell our little story about a Kachaka attack.”

  “But why?” Lila wondered.

  Dr. Basehart’s eyes narrowed. “To settle the whole matter before anyone like you came along and started to ask questions. You and your family were brought here to find the treasure room of Kachi-Tochetin. What happened to the Corys was to be none of your concern.”

  “But . . .” Lila couldn’t fathom Dr. Basehart’s callousness. “But these are people, human beings, in trouble! We can’t just let them die!”

  Dr. Basehart brushed her off. “A few human lives are a small price to pay for what we’ve discovered.”

  She became indignant. “No! Listen. If you’ve found a cure for the curse, then you’ve got to use it to save them!”

  “They are beyond saving, my dear.”

  “I got better!” Then she added, “And I think you know how!”

  He weighed that for a moment. “I might. One more experiment would resolve a few problems, though.” He shot a glance at Tomás. “Bring the explosives. We’ll do this quickly.”

  Dr. Cooper knew he could not hurry through the swamp if he wanted to get through it at all. So despite the agony of not knowing the fate of his children for a few additional moments, he carefully retraced the Corys’ trail markers and picked his way through. Once on solid ground again, he barreled down the trail through the entangling jungle, his arms protecting his face. His legs grabbed distance in long, powerful strides.

  When he reached the Corys’ devastated campsite he raced right past it, barely giving it a glance. He had to get to the compound. He had to find his kids.

  Hidden behind the Corys’ sagging tent, Armond Basehart held Jay while Tomás held Lila, their hands over the kids’ mouths so they could not cry out. Once he was sure Dr. Cooper was far past, Dr. Basehart prodded the kids with his gun—“Okay, let’s go”—and they headed up the same trail their father had come down.

  Dr. Cooper pulled his gun as he reached the compound, his eyes alert for trouble. Dawn was approaching. The compound was quiet. There was a light on in Basehart’s lab trailer.

  Taking cautious, silent steps and pointing his gun skyward, he approached the door of the trailer. Through a window he could see a man bent over the work counter, tinkering with samples and looking through the microscope. Dr. Cooper put his hand on the door handle, then jerked the door open suddenly, aiming his gun inside. “Don’t move!”

  The man complied and became very still.

  “Put your hands on the counter where I can see them.”

  The man placed both of his hands on the counter, then said pleasantly, “Dr. Cooper. I’ve been expecting you.”

  Dr. Cooper stepped through the door, still aiming the gun. “I’ve been expecting you too, Mr. Stern.”

  “May I turn around and face you?”

  “Hands in the air, please.”

  The man raised his hands and turned around. It was Mr. Stern from the museum, all right, dressed in jungle fatigues instead of a fancy suit but still the dapper, gray-haired gentleman. “So it seems you’ve figured out our little ruse.”

  “I’ve learned that the Kachakas know nothing of any raid on the Cory camp. They think the Corys are ghosts from the tomb. They’ve never even seen the treasure and the poison darts they use are quite different from the fake ones your people planted at the Corys’ camp—better, actually.”

  Mr. Stern was impressed. “Very observant. But here’s something else for you to note.” He nodded toward the clothing Lila had left on the couch. “As you can see, we ha
ve your children, so I have plenty of advantage. That gun won’t do you much good. You’re a reasonable man. Perhaps you’d like to have a discussion instead of a shoot-out?”

  Dr. Cooper kept the gun in his hand. “Fine. Let’s discuss my children.”

  Mr. Stern liked that response. “Certainly. Armond Basehart has them. You’ll be glad to know that they are both alive and well, and Lila is recovering from her illness. Tomás and Juan found her in the ruins and brought her here where Basehart had a chance to run some tests. Thanks to your daughter, we’ve made some exciting discoveries.”

  Dr. Cooper tightened his grip on the gun he was aiming at Mr. Stern. “Where are they?”

  Mr. Stern smiled, amused. “Now doctor, you know I can’t give up my advantage. We haven’t had our discussion yet.” He looked at his raised hands. “And may I put down my hands?”

  Jacob Cooper considered, then replied, “Cross your arms in front of you—and start explaining what you’re really up to.”

  Mr. Stern crossed his arms and relaxed against the counter. “All right. First of all, my name isn’t Stern, and second, I don’t work for the Langley Art Museum. I have a few friends there who helped me set up our meeting in the museum’s work room, but that was purely for the sake of appearances. My real name is—” He stopped himself and smiled. “Well, let me just tell you the name I use in my profession. In all your visits to the Middle East, you’ve no doubt heard the name Manasseh.”

  Dr. Cooper had heard the name. “The international weapons dealer?”

  The man known as Manasseh nodded. “A supplier of weapons of all kinds to terrorists, revolutionaries, or anyone who wants to start a war. If you have the right kind of money, I don’t care whose side you’re on.”

  Dr. Cooper knew he was facing a man with no trace of conscience. “So what do you want with me and my children?”

  “Oh, exactly what I hired you for: to pick up where the Corys left off and find the treasure room of Kachi-Tochetin.”

  Dr. Cooper was puzzled. “What would a weapons dealer want with ancient artifacts?”

  Manasseh laughed. “Not the artifacts, doctor! The curse guarding them!”

  “What?”

  Manasseh’s eyes sparkled with devious delight. “Imagine entire armies stricken with madness— turning into raving animals, turning and attacking each other instead of the enemy, generals going out of their minds! Whoever possessed such a wonderful biological weapon could win a war without firing a shot!”

  Dr. Cooper quickly scanned the work counter behind Manasseh. “So that’s what Armond Basehart was working on all this time?”

  “Exactly. He acquired the journals of José de Carlon and developed the theory that the curse of Toco-Rey might be due to a rare toxin the Oltecas planted in the tomb. He came to me with his idea. I bought into it, and, well, here we are.”

  “And you hired Ben Cory and his crew to find the tomb for you.”

  “And to unwittingly serve as guinea pigs. They entered the tomb, encountered the toxin, and later went berserk, proving our theory. You can imagine our elation! We had discovered a toxin that had remained dormant for a thousand years but still came to life upon contact with human beings. It is the ideal weapon! It can be stored for years—sealed in shell casings, kept in jars, whatever—and still work when we want it to. But our archaeological team was reduced to raging animals, and we still didn’t know exactly where the tomb was. Besides, neither Basehart nor I had any intention of going into the tomb ourselves. So . . .”

  “You hired me.”

  Manasseh nodded. “And staged the raid on the Cory camp so you wouldn’t know our real intentions.”

  Dr. Cooper was appalled. “You’re a mad man.”

  That only amused Manasseh further. “No, just a businessman. Thanks to the Corys, we were able to discover a perfect weapon that could devastate an army, a city, or a nation.” He pointed to a jar on the counter containing a preserved dead carvy. “And thanks to your daughter, who was affected by the toxin and then recovered, we were able to discover the cure. So we now have a product we can sell to the right people for millions. In a way, there’s treasure in the burial tomb of Kachi-Tochetin worth far more than the gold.”

  Dr. Cooper wasn’t entirely impressed. “So what do you intend to do, start a carvy farm?”

  Manasseh burst out laughing as if he’d heard a terrific joke. “That’s good, doctor! Very good! But let’s get to the real discussion here. You want your children, I want your cooperation. Let’s cut a deal.”

  Jacob Cooper said nothing. He just listened.

  Manasseh made his pitch. “We need your expertise in further explorations of the tomb and any other sites that might contain the toxin. We’ll harvest the toxin, and any treasure you find, you can keep for yourself. You’ll be a millionaire, doctor, overnight— if you join us, and if you keep our little secret.”

  “Assist you in profiting from the deaths of millions of people? You’re talking to the wrong man.”

  Manasseh only smiled wickedly. “I’ve heard about your deep moral convictions, Doctor. But I’m willing to wager that your Christian morality can only govern you up to a point. Beyond that, well, as they say, every man has his price.”

  “I got my Christian morality from God, and He’s a far greater treasure than you could ever offer me. I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.” Dr. Cooper raised the gun threateningly. “Now where are my kids?”

  Manasseh eyed him a moment, then tested him. “We can throw in an immediate bonus, a little incentive: How about two million dollars—today?”

  Dr. Cooper pulled the hammer back. “Where are they?”

  “Two more million once you’ve found the tomb and make it accessible.”

  Dr. Cooper spoke slowly and clearly. “I strongly suggest you take me to my children.”

  Lila and Jay stared into the pit near the burial tomb of Kachi-Tochetin, closely guarded by Armond Basehart and Tomás. The morning sunlight was piercing through the trees and the carvies had returned from their night foraging. There were so many of them that their restful muttering and shuffling echoed out of the pit like the hum of a beehive.

  “You gotta be kidding!” said Jay.

  “Make no sudden moves or noises, and green carvies can be quite indifferent to your presence,” said Basehart. “Tomás, the ladder.”

  Tomás seemed very nervous but obeyed, opening a bundle and removing a long rope ladder.

  “Hook it over the wall and lower it down very slowly. Let’s not upset our little friends down there.”

  Tomás anchored the top end of the ladder to the wall, then let the ladder out one rung at a time, lowering it into the pit. The hum of the carvies stayed steady. So far, so good.

  “Why do we have to go down there?” Lila asked.

  “Oh, indulge me,” said Dr. Basehart. “One final little experiment. Tomás here insists that green carvies are harmless. We’re going to find out if he’s right.”

  Manasseh seemed to weaken. He’d tried several tempting offers to buy Jacob Cooper’s loyalty, but the Christian was unshakable.

  “You certainly are a man of conviction.”

  “Some things are more important than money,” Dr. Cooper said simply. “Now we can spend the rest of the day in a deadlock or we can bring everything to a conclusion. It’s up to you.”

  Manasseh thought it over, then nodded. “All right.”

  “Where is Dr. Basehart?”

  “Actually, he and Tomás went into the ruins at first light to gather some more samples. I have your children. They’re locked up in a shed in back.”

  Dr. Cooper gestured toward the door with his gun. “Let’s go.”

  Manasseh made his way out under Dr. Cooper’s watchful eye. Then he led him around to the back of the trailer where the shed stood, still locked up with a padlock and two slide bolts. “This was rather hurriedly built, I’m afraid. We weren’t expecting to house prisoners.”

  “Open it up.”

 
Manasseh took a key from his pocket and unlocked the padlock. The two bolts slid easily aside, but the door wouldn’t budge when he tugged on the handle. He turned to Dr. Cooper, looking apologetic. “As I said, we put this together rather in a hurry.”

  Dr. Cooper stepped closer and grabbed the door handle. With both of them tugging, the door finally jerked open. It was dark inside. He could tell immediately his kids were not—

  OOF! Something hit him from behind with tremendous force, hurling him through the door. The shed had no floor and he fell, tumbling head over heels through empty space until he landed with a soft thud. The dust rose up in a cloud around him, choking him, blinding him. He could feel it grating between his teeth, burning in his nose.

  Struggling to his feet in the dim light, he blinked his eyes clear and discovered he’d fallen into a pit about eight feet deep. He could hear the voices of Juan and Carlos above, laughing and chattering. “Very good job,” Manasseh told them. “Muy, muy bueno!”

  The door slammed shut and the pit went dark except for thin ribbons of light that came through cracks between the boards.

  Manasseh had a quick conversation with Juan and Carlos, and then Dr. Cooper could hear the two men walking away. “Sorry to slam the door on you, Dr. Cooper,” Manasseh called from outside. “But we can’t let any of that fine green dust escape. The stuff is lethal.”

  Jacob Cooper looked around as his eyes adapted to the dim light. The shed was sealed up with clear plastic and the air inside was murky with green dust. It covered the walls of the pit and lay several inches thick on the pit floor. He was covered with it. He could taste it.

  And he wasn’t alone. A dead man sat in a corner of the pit, his eyes gone, his jaw hanging open, barely recognizable under a thick layer of green mold that covered his entire body.

  “Dr. Cooper,” Manasseh called, “may I introduce you to John Cory, the only one of the Cory party we were able to recover and contain. We were lucky enough to find him in the jungle just after he died but before the carvies had a chance to pick his bones clean. And now that Juan and Carlos are gone and we can talk privately, may I also introduce you to the deadly curse of Toco-Rey, that lovely green dust.”