Chapter Eleven:
Mound
It was still dark when they arrived at the ranch some two hours later.
When Chris suggested it as a hiding place for Orin Travis, his daughter Mary and Alexandra Styles, he had no idea how difficult it would be coming back to the twenty-acre ranch he bought almost five years ago. Although he told himself on numerous occasions, he should sell the place, something always held him back. Perhaps it was knowing if he got rid of it, he'd be ridding himself of the last vestiges of his life as a husband and father. It was ridiculous of course, it was just a place and neither Sarah nor Adam had ever set foot on it.
Chris bought the twenty-acre property, with the five-bedroom Pueblo adobe home, days before the house fire that would take their lives. The death of his father a few years earlier left Chris with enough money to buy the place, since he and Sarah had talked about having another child and she hated army housing. It was a surprise he never had a chance to unveil because she died before he could show it to her and since then, Chris had been unable to come anywhere near it.
Yet for all his protestations, he still maintained the property, ensuring the grounds were tended to and the house was kept ready for his return as if prescience told him, staying away indefinitely was a finite state of affairs. One day, he would marshal up the courage to come back here and take up residence, when he was finally tired of the apartment he occupied in town.
"Nettie still coming in twice a week?" Buck asked as he and Chris helped the still unconscious Josiah to one of the empty bedrooms to let their resident mechanic and former seminary student, sleep off the effects of the drug he, Nathan and JD were poisoned with.
"Yeah, she and Casey," Chris nodded, using one hand to open the door to the room, while the other kept hold of Josiah's arm around his shoulder. Nettie Wells was an army nurse they met following the Oise-Aisne Offensive when they nearly lost Ezra and first met Nathan. She was the only one who treated the medic with any kind of respect, even though he performed the battlefield treatment that allowed Ezra to survive long enough to get to a hospital.
When Buck was forced to head out to California for work, having remained at Chris's side for as long as he could after the fire, it was Nettie who retired in the area, kept him from relapsing into despair again. Nettie helped him recover from his six-month drinking binge and kept a vigil on him when Buck could not. In gratitude, Chris gave Nettie an acre of land on the property, so she could raise her recently orphaned grand niece Casey. Of course, Nettie, being Nettie, insisted on paying her way by volunteering to maintain the house when she learned he was looking to hire someone for the job.
True enough, when the door swung open, Chris and Buck were able to put Josiah down on a bed that was made up with fresh linen in a room that smelled recently aired. There was even cut wildflowers in a vase by the window. The little touches of femininity made Chris smile until a pang of sorrow hit him once again, wondering what Sarah would have done to this house if she had been alive to live in it. Forcing away the pain because it would do him no good, Chris focussed his thoughts on helping Josiah onto the mattress. No doubt, Vin and Orin were doing the same to Nathan in one of the other five bedrooms.
"She's kept it up real nice," Buck complimented as he pulled off Josiah's shoes and lay them on the floor next to the bed. "How are you doing?"
Chris met Buck's gaze. "Fine I guess," he looked around the empty room and let out a sigh. "Never thought I'd be coming back like this."
"Sometimes the circumstances don't give you much of a choice," Buck stated as they straightened up, preparing to leave the room, perfectly aware how difficult this was for Chris. As it was, the pilot was rather amazed Chris had volunteered the use of the place at all. Buck had been with Chris when he first looked the property over with the intention of buying it for Sarah.
"Buck," Chris said quietly, with such profound sadness in his voice it made the pilot pay attention immediately. "I can't remember what it was like to hear Adam call me Pa anymore. I can't remember how Sarah's hair felt against my fingers. I used to know every line and curve on her face and now I need to look at a picture just to remember what she looked like."
Buck's heart tightened in his chest hearing that admission, seeing the anguished look in Chris's eyes revealing how much this bothered him. "Maybe it's time, Chris."
Chris grew cold at the thought. "I can't. If I do that, it's like they never existed."
"You know better than that Chris," he countered gently. "Life goes on, as hard and painful as it is, it just does. You've been the rock that's held us together these four years. You made us a family when we had none. Just like it was in France, you've done that for us now, but you've got to move on. It's time to let them go."
"No," he shook his head unable to stomach the thought. "I can't. I wouldn't know how."
Buck didn't press because Chris could be stubborn about such things. Even as children in Arizona, fighting bullies in the playground together, Chris had a stubborn streak running through him that bordered on obstinate. He would fight the tide of change washing over him until the absolute last moment.
A sudden snort from Josiah broke the silence between them, prompting Chris to step away from the bed, the moment of vulnerability vanishing into the night. Leaving Josiah to sleep off the effects of the drug, they stepped into the hallway, with Chris closing the door quietly behind him. They had no sooner stepped onto the terracotta tiled hallway, when they heard the clacking of heels against the stone, preceding the appearance of Mary at the end of the corridor.
She was still wearing the pink gown from the evening at the museum with her hair hanging loose and Chris had to admit, even slightly dishevelled, she was a stunning beauty.
Until she spoke.
"Mr Larabee, please tell me you have a telephone somewhere in this place."
Chris stiffened, able to guess right away how this conversation was going to go. He was in no mood for complaints, especially when he had invited her and her father to take refuge in this house of all places. While it had been necessary at the time, the emotional toll it was taking on him was significant. Coming back here was making short work of his temper.
"Sorry," he said indifferently as he and Buck approached her. "I ain't been here long enough to need a line being run out to the property."
"Well I cannot be out of contact with my newspaper indefinitely," she huffed, seemingly oblivious to his brusque manner. "I will need to tell them where I am."
"Chris I can run the lady to a phone booth..." Buck offered, not about to waste the opportunity to spend some quality time with a gorgeous blond, not to mention head off any arguments before one got started.
"No," Chris said firmly. "The reason I'm letting you and your dad stay here is because none of those crazy sons of bitches know about this place and that's not going to change by you calling your newspaper and telling them where you are."
"My editor..." she started to protest but he cut her off abruptly.
"Can be tortured and made to talk like anyone else. You're staying put." He tried to make her cower with the infamous Larabee glare.
It did not work.
Buck saw the woman's blue grey eyes light up with the same white-hot fury in Chris's icy blue ones, taking great exception to being spoken to in such a manner. Eyes narrowing, her hands flew to her hips and she looked prepared for battle. "Mr Larabee, I am not one of your men, do not speak to me like I am a child."
"Then stop behaving like one," Chris retaliated, more than ready to cross swords with her if she intended on challenging him in his own house. "It isn't afe for you to go telling anyone where you are so why don't you run along," he gestured with his fingers in possibly the most condescending manner known to all womankind, "and find a comfortable spot for that pretty little butt of yours because you're not going anywhere, any time soon."
Buck almost slapped his face with his palm at that statement, but instead closed his eyes in a wince, bracing himself for the storm about to descend. He almost stepped back to get out of range until he noticed something about the exchange that made him reconsider his next move.
"First of all," Mary glared at Chris in barely concealed outrage, fighting to remind herself not to throw his hospitality back in his face. "My butt though extremely pretty, is none of your concern. Secondly..."
"Okay, okay," Buck intervened before this became any more heated or blood was spilled. "It's been a long night and we're all a might bit testy. Why don't we talk about this in the morning, after we get a good night's rest?"
In the last few minutes, watching the confrontation between the two, preparing to face each other, across the battle lines of their stubborn will, Buck realised the tension being generated by the duo was not entirely out of animosity. It dawned on Buck now that perhaps the reason why Chris was so damned intent on protecting the woman, had more to do with his own feelings about her rather than any obligation to the Professor.
"Fine," Mary pulled away first, deciding she was not about to get into a shouting match with this sexist pig, especially when he was offering her, Alex and her father refuge from the Erran. However, if he thought for one instant, she was going to submit like some helpless female, requiring his protection or for that matter permission before she acted, Mr Larabee was in for a big disappointment. "This discussion is not over."
With that, she spun on her heels and went back the way she came. Chris said nothing for a few seconds, staring after her, muttering under his breath before Buck broke the silence.
"Next time try flowers."
Chris almost punched him.
If Chris thought he had Mary Travis handled, he was wrong.
In fact, he was learning all that it took to ruin a perfectly good plan was to throw a dameinto it.
Men, you could rely on. You could give them orders and they would obey it, because men were rational, disciplined creatures while dames, they weren't. Dames were like monkey wrenches in the works. They acted on impulse, questioned your orders, gave you lip at every turn and still managed to be completely distracting with their great legs and long, gold hair.
The dumb ones weren't too bad, you could reason with them, a little sweet talk and dinner at a fancy joint, that's all she wrote. The smart ones? They were always pains in the asses. Those were the ones who didn't come from Adam's rib, but rather the burr the man sat on butt naked in the Garden of Eden. Occasionally you'd get lucky and find a woman who was smart and reasonable, like Sarah used to be and possibly Vin's Doctor Alex.
Mary Travis was in the pain in the ass category.
As far as he was concerned, everything had been decided the night before. Chris, Vin and JD would head back to Seton Village with Alexandra Styles, so she could show them the Aztec mound that so interested her father. Chris suspected Styles hid his cryptex within its confines and only a physical inspection of the site would allow them to determine exactly where. He had enough experience around Mesoamerican sites to have a rough idea of what he was looking at, even without the benefit of JD's perusal of the doctor's notes.
Of course, when it was time to head back to Seton Village, Mary insisted on joining them and no amount of arguing (and there had been quite a bit) would dissuade her. The Professor merely shrugged his shoulders in indifference. Chris thought Orin had the look of a punch-drunk fighter who had gone too many rounds with this opponent and simply didn't care anymore.
In any case, when they left his ranch, Mary was with them.
With the Rocky Mountains running a jagged line over the horizon, they found the site easily once Alex pointed them in the right direction.
Located several miles away from the small community, the ancient Aztec mound stood in the shadow of the large hills running along the spine of the Cibola Forest. On first sighting, there was nothing to distinguish it from the others slopes and hills covering the sparsely vegetated plain. The mound was overgrown with grass and wild flowers, specifically lemon scent, fringe sage and salt bush. Judging by the lack of trails through the grass once you left the dirt road, Chris guessed no one had come calling for quite a while.
As Chris approached it with Vin, leading Mary and Alex, who had the good sense to be wearing pants and boots, he had to confess it was probably one of the largest mounds he'd seen outside of South America. The lay of the terrain also told him that while it might be of significant size above ground, the underground catacombs beneath it might be even larger. Chris had to admit the doctor had selected a good hiding place for his cryptex. Only Alex knew about their visit here and if he took care to hide the artefact in the structure, the Erran might never find it.
"When was the last time you were here?" Vin asked Alex as they started up the grass hill leading to the edge of the mound. They had left JD at the Styles's home with all the research William Styles had conducted on the Tablet of Destiny, mostly because the young man was still a little shaky from the ordeal the night before. The lack of complaint from JD on this point seemed to prove it.
"Not for a long time," Alex admitted, scanning the terrain and feeling a pang of sadness remembering the first time she and daddy had discovered this place. "I've only been here once or twice since we found it, during a trip to visit Orin and Mary. Dad was the one with the real fascination for the place."
"Well I can understand why," Chris spoke from the head of the group. "Judging by the way its constructed, it's not a dwelling. It's way too big for that. If I had to take a guess, I'm gonna say we're only seeing a small part of the structure. I'll bet money when we get inside, we're going to find it's a lot bigger than we thought. It could be a community hall, a temple or possibly even a burial site."
Both Mary and Alex shuddered at the thought.
"Have you any archaeological expertise Mr Larabee?" Mary asked, begrudgingly forced to admit that while the man was an insufferable chauvinistic pig, she was fascinated by his expertise. As far as she knew, Chris Larabee had no academic background but having followed the activities of him and his group, he seemed quite knowledgeable about the ancient world and its artefacts.
"No," Chris remarked, not offended by the question at all. It wasn't the first time someone had made the inquiry. Besides her voice lacked the derision or sarcasm of their earlier conversations and he suspected the question came from a genuine place of interest. "But I've always had an interest in it. Picked up a few things during the war and I've learned enough the last four years to get by."
"Yeah right," Vin snorted at Chris's downplay of his skills. Every member of the team was aware Chris did a hell of a lot of research for their jobs. Anyone who'd visited Chris's digs in the city, would see it didn't look too different from Orin Travis's office and library, with all its books, drawings and old maps. Until JD had come along, it was Chris who did the reading about the artefacts they were hunting and the cultures they were most likely to encounter doing it.
"I'm impressed," Mary remarked, guessing the same from Vin's comment.
Chris's response was a grunt, since he wasn't certain how to take compliments from the woman. Not based on their relationship so far.
Deciding she had no wish to listen to these two bicker again, especially after the car ride from the ranch, Alex chose to run interference. "Well if it helps, from what I remember there was one main chamber, with adjoining smaller ones. We found a few artefacts, you know old arrowheads, pots, a few pieces of jewellery, that sort of thing. I think the place has been looted over the centuries,"
"So, it's a maze," Mary frowned. "We could be searching for a needle in a haystack."
"You could have stayed in the car," Chris quipped, throwing her a smirk when they came to a set of rough stone steps that circled the mound and led to the top.
Mary's eyes narrowed as he started up the steps. "You are not going to change my mind Mr Larabee. Continuing to sulk about it, isn't going to help."
"I'm not sulki..." Chris started to snap and took a deep breath, deciding he was not going to get into another argument. "Fine, whatever."
It didn't take long for them to get to the top of the mound and upon reaching it, found someone had installed a door over the existing entrance, sealing it with a formidable looking padlock and chain.
"Someone was determined to keep trespassers out," Chris remarked, staring at it.
"Someone,'" Vin came up alongside of him. "You mean Alex's pa."
"Yeah," he nodded, glancing at the young woman. "I doubt a lock would have stopped the Erran, but your father might have put this here to keep trespassers from stumbling into what he might have hidden in here." Turning to Vin, he asked, "can you shoot it off?"
Vin's expression said no. "I wouldn't try. It might ricochet. Better bet is the chain."
"Alright," Chris nodded and took a step back. "Ladies, stand back, I don't want either of you getting hit if Vin's aim is off."
"Screw you Larabee," Vin said sweetly, offended by the notion. "Sorry Alex, Mary."
"It's alright," Mary said before Alex could. "I share the sentiment."
After Vin's mare's leg obliterated one of the links on the thick chain keeping the entrance of the mound sealed, they descended a short flight of steps to the main chamber inside it. While some daylight penetrated its inner recesses, the rest of the windowless dome was almost pitch black, prompting the quartet into switching on their flashlights, to navigate the darkness.
It was as Alex described. The main chamber was a circular shaped room with doorways running along the walls to other parts of the mound. Scattered across the floor, were the detritus of a people long gone into the mists, with only the tools of their living scattered across the floor, to give any indication of their civilisation. No doubt the ancient dwellers of this mound had been absorbed into the Pueblos tribes who dominated this part of the country at one time, or wiped out altogether.
In the centre of the room was a flat slab of stone which Chris had no doubt was the altar. He only hoped the Aztecs who occupied this place did not use it for sacrifices which was more than possible. With the beams from their torches bouncing off the walls, Chris suddenly spotted something that certainly did not belong to ancient Aztec culture. It was a half bag of cement resting against the wall and a wheelbarrow full of very modern tools.
Just as he made that discovery, he heard Vin call to him. "Hey pard, I think you need to look at this."
Chris turned around immediately and saw Vin's torch, now joined by Mary and Alex's, aimed at what was a doorway, except this one had been bricked up using very modern construction materials.
"Your pa's been busy." Vin said to Alex when Chris reached them.
"I had no idea," Alex said shaking her head, once again bothered by the fact William Styles had hidden so much from her. "I wish he had told me..."
"He was just trying to protect you," Mary said squeezing her shoulder gently.
Chris reached the wall and ran his finger along the newly sealed doorway. No doubt the cement and tools he just discovered had been used for this purpose. The job was quite rough, obviously undertaken by someone with little or no experience with menial labour, as Ezra would have put it. Bits of cement were smeared across the brick, flaking off easily when Chris brushed his palm against it. One of the stones appeared loose. Pushing against it, he could feel the grind of stone and knew it would not take much to break it down.
"Vin, there's a wheelbarrow back there, see if there's anything we can use to break through." Chris asked still studying the sturdiness of the wall. "I've got dynamite in the car, but I don't want to use it unless we have to. "
"You have dynamite in your car?" Mary exclaimed horrified. "The same car we came in?"
"I like to be prepared," he remarked, not really listening to her, more interested in the wall and what may be behind it. He had a pretty good suspicion if William Styles's paranoia was any indication.
"You think the cryptex is in there?" Alex asked, wondering what else her father had done to keep the secret and the riddle of the Tablet hidden from the Erran.
"I can't see any reason why he'd go to all the trouble otherwise," Chris looked over his shoulder at her, just in time to see Vin returning.
"Try this," Vin announced himself, carrying a sledge hammer. Despite their good fortune at finding such a useful tool for what they planned, Chris had to wonder why on Earth Styles would need such a tool. It certainly wasn't necessary for brick laying.
He had a feeling they would find out soon enough.
With their torches aimed at the wall and Vin ensuring the women were a safe distance away, Chris swung the hammer over his shoulder and struck the wall hard. Vin had offered to do the work and Chris might just take him up on it if he needed relief, if the wall proved harder than it looked to demolish. Fortunately, Styles's lack of skill as a bricklayer meant it only took a few good swings before the bricks broke free of the cement holding them in place and falling backwards into the dark.
Chris kept up the pace for a few more minutes, sweating in the humid heat inside the mound, with no one trying to speak over the sound of breaking rock. Finally, enough of the brick wall had been dislodged and the whole thing crumbled in a large heap, sending cement dust into the air and bricks spilling through the opening, inside and out.
However, instead of another room, Chris found a set of steps descending into the darkness beneath the mound.
"Looking at Vin," he said with a sigh. "I guess we're going down this rabbit hole."
