Pyramid of the Gods Read online

  “And you’re sure this isn’t it, Nick?” asked Marie, wiping sweat from her brow that fed several tiny streams on either side of her face. “Uncle Leo carried a keen sense for buried treasure.”

  “Maybe he did...but he was wrong this time,” I assured her, moving back to the truck and climbing into the driver’s seat. The sun’s anger greeted my perturbed expression when I glanced in the rearview mirror. I hadn’t shaved in nearly a week, and the chipped emeralds gazing back from my reflection warned that my fuse was wearing thin. “Mario and I weren’t entirely sure we found the right place, either. We figured we had another mile or so to go in order to find the tip of the capstone. But when we saw something jutting out of the sand here, we thought it likely was the right spot, and the map was incorrect.”

  I almost couldn’t remove my eyes from it...the limestone post marking the tunnel first dug by Mario and me. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the post looked as it did twelve years ago. In the least, I figured it would be weather-worn by now, and maybe it was a little. But a merciless feeling of nostalgia ripped through me. I knew I couldn’t stick around for long. When Leo and his men let me go, I remained far too upset for years to consider that perhaps we hadn’t found the right place. Not until Mr. Da Vinci set out to murder his niece and me in Honduras.

  The amount of gold to be had in this desert, to whomever finds Sekhmet’s temple, would be far greater a coup than even The Temple of the Jaguar’s treasure, which had been massive. If the unscrupulous Leonardo Da Vinci Leo had found it, he would have retired in style—and never bothered transporting his ass down to the Honduran jungles. Especially not in search of treasure worth one-tenth the prize lying beneath these shifting Egyptian sands.

  “Well, where should we search next?” asked Ishi, walking up to mine and Marie’s Jeep and wiping the sweat dripping from his face into his shirt. Despite being as worn by the weather as Marie, his tone and smile remained upbeat, and his deep brown eyes twinkled with mirth. “Sadly, I don’t believe a dowsing rod will help.”

  “Hmmm, that’s true, but it gives me an idea,” I said. “Something about the large dune to the west of us keeps pulling my attention. It’s about half a mile from here, and seems to fit what the map shows.”

  I pulled said map out from my pocket and unrolled it. The lower right quadrant, where an ‘X’ marked a spot, seemed to correspond to the dune. I was certain of it and felt excitement as I calculated the likely distance between the abandoned dig site and the mark on the map. Maybe not a perfect match, but the large sand dune in the distance, with the top folded over like a hooked finger, appeared close enough.

  Close enough to take a look.

  “And, if this doesn’t pan out, what then?” asked Marie. She sounded worried, which wasn’t like her.

  “Well, darlin’, it will be your turn to pick the section of this god-forsaken desert to try next.”

  “That’s your plan?”

  “That’s my Plan B.”

  “Then let’s hope Plan A pans out,” muttered Ishi, before he and Akiiki headed for their truck, both chuckling.

  “I heard that!”

  “Ah, children, keep to the task at hand.” I shot Marie a playful look while watching her stomp to the passenger side and climb in. She must’ve been more irritated than I sensed, as she tossed my laptop into the back seat.

  “Well, you had better be right about this, Nick Caine.”

  “And if I’m not?”

  “Let’s not even go there,” she said, as I pulled in the lead, careful to avoid the drifts as I bee-lined for the hooked sand dune beginning to look more like a giant birdy directed at us. “I guess we’ll have to backtrack if we find out this next place is a waste of time.”

  I couldn’t agree less. There were too many negative factors regarding the original site to lend it validity at this point. Not to mention, reliving my last moments with Mario wasn’t exactly the healthiest way to spend the afternoon.

  “First things first,” I said, determined to sound calm and collected. “If we find it, great. And, if not, I’ll step aside and you can run this expedition from here on out. Deal?”

  This wasn’t a ploy to get her to back down. Marie Da Vinci might be a princess in many ways, but a pushover she is not. Being in control is something the lady covets, whether we’re talking Scrabble, sex, or running the show when searching for buried treasure.

  We soon reached the unusual sand structure. As we exited the Jeeps, it seemed likely Marie was right. The top of the overhang wasn’t a sand dune after all; instead, it was a natural rock outcropping. It would make a great photograph, the four of us hamming it up below with the caption: “Greetings from Bumfuck, Egypt!” But, it seemed too obvious to mark the long lost pyramid temple of Sekhmet. The next twenty minutes surveying the area proved futile, and I was ready to pack it in. We all were.

  But that would’ve been a big mistake.

  As the late afternoon shadows crept along the edge of the sandstone formation’s top, Ishi spotted something protruding from the ground, roughly fifty feet away. We headed over to it, and my heart began to race when we were within ten feet of the damned thing. Scarcely believing we’d find the capstone depicted in the map, it didn’t stop me from praying we did.

  “Holy shit,” whispered Marie, reverently. “I think this is it...I think we found it!”

  Akiiki and Ishi used their dusters to clear away enough sand to reveal the top portion of several glyphs. Some of the symbols were gone, after centuries of abusive winds. However, our guide could still confirm the basic message of the glyphs arrangement. Old enough to accurately represent the time period we sought, official confirmation would only come after digging deep enough in the sand to find a tunnel. But all signs pointed to this being as good a spot as any. Hopefully, what lay below us was the Hittites’ legendary gold.

  Chapter Three

  We set up camp beneath the sandstone overhang to keep the temperature cooler inside the tents. When dusk arrived, we ate from our rations and sat around a modest fire while Akiiki shared his favorite myths and theories surrounding the legendary temple we sought.

  “My people believe Sekhmet is not only real, but she still lives,” said Akiiki, continuing to talk about her, despite the polite nods from the three of us steadily dwindling to a standstill. “You don’t want to believe it? That’s okay...But if we have found her temple, and we are sitting above her throne chamber as we eat, drink, and share friendly conversation, don’t be surprised if your disrespect awakens her, and inspires her anger.”

  He smiled as he said this, but the elfin glint in his eyes dimmed. Sure as shit, the guy believed every word spewing from his mouth.

  “Come on, man...You seem level-headed and smart, even though you almost got us lost by missing the turnoff at El Kharaga,” I teased. “What gives with the horseshit? You no more believe a five-thousand-year-old goddess is lying in wait beneath the sand than I believe we won’t be getting a visit from the ministry before we leave here.”

  “Yassir Ali and his men won’t come,” he said confidently, maintaining his smile as if my jest had been harmless, and deflecting my verbal barbs a simple matter. “When they talked among themselves before we left, more than one agreed you and Ms. Marie are...how do you Americans say it? Missing a few screws upstairs? They say something like that, correct?”

  Marie and I exchanged glances. I smiled at the humorous dig, while she scowled.

  Marie, who’d been in a foul mood all day, snapped: “Do you think we’re crazy for coming out here, too?”

  “No, ma-am, I don’t think either of you are crazy,” he said, chuckling indifferently to her angry response. Then again, I doubted Akiiki would ever call anyone who paid him as much as we paid him crazy to their faces. He went on: “But Ali’s men certainly think you’re not right in the head, and you all carry a death wish by exploring this forgotten wasteland in summer heat. That’s why they won’t be dropping by for a visit.”

  More nods, and my urge for a s
moke became a bigger distraction by the moment. In truth, I would’ve lit up sooner, if not for a promise to Marie to try and ration my vices until we finished our desert business. Her worry that I might become a jittery pain in the ass, if the booze and cigarettes were gone before we claimed our prize, wasn’t completely unfounded.

  “And where did you first hear Sekhmet’s pyramid was more like the ones in South America?” asked Ishi, directing his question to Akiiki when the silence became uncomfortable.

  I wondered when Akiiki mentioned local pyramid design to my buddy. Likely, as they traded bedtime stories in the dark while Marie and I...well, while Marie and I shared a more naughty kind of pillow talk.

  “Around here, it is common knowledge. After all, were you aware that the oldest pyramids in Egypt share more in common with those in the Americas than they do with those gracing the postcards sold at the Museum of Cairo?” asked Akiiki, rising to his feet. He stretched his back after dusting off sand from his trousers. “Yes, I know everyone is aware most pyramid temples have a step design to them, since it was the easiest way to construct them. However, it might surprise some that these older pyramids’ rough exteriors were not entirely due to erosion, as is commonly believed. Nations long forgotten were in existence before the Nile’s delta attracted the peoples destined to raise the grand Egyptian culture of ancient times. These other nations sprang up from the same source, and were located throughout the world. You’ve seen evidence of their glorious monuments from Bosnia to Korea, and throughout both American continents. The greatest of these still standing are the temples later occupied by, and attributed to, the Mayans and Incas.”

  I tried not to laugh. Really I did. But I couldn’t contain a snicker.

  Akiiki looked at me calmly. “So, Mr. Nick, you don’t believe in anything new? Still clinging to what you’ve already seen and formed opinions about? There’s no room for debate or new ideas?”

  “Yep, pretty much,” I said. “All the reliable evidence available in the scientific community tells us the pyramids in this country are the oldest in the world. At least the structures that are truly pyramids, and not something else, like the crumbling temples in places like Turkey or Iraq.”

  “So, you discount your own experiences then...including those experiences defying prior scientific knowledge?”

  “Meaning what?” I was beginning to hate Akiiki’s glib responses.

  “Ishi told me about the half-man, half-serpent creature you encountered in Honduras,” he said. “Such anomalies were once common throughout the world, especially when this region was a fertile basin where lush vegetation covered the landscape...I can tell from the look in your eye you think I’m full of bullshit, Mr. Nick. Same for Ms. Marie...and to a degree, you as well, Ishi. But, if it turns out the capstone belongs to the Temple of Sekhmet, it would be wise not to forget your prior experiences.”

  Despite the urge to continue being a smartass, I held off. Instead, I turned my gaze to Ishi, who shrugged. Surely he hadn’t expected his tentmate to reveal details of their late night conversations...at least not like this.

  “Since we should begin digging at daybreak, I will leave you to consider our discussion tonight. ‘Night, Mr. Nick and Ms. Marie. Ishi...I will leave the flashlight with you.”

  “Tawankans have eyes and a danger sense like marsupials,” I said. “He’ll have a much easier time avoiding scorpions and vipers than the rest of us...including you, Akiiki.”

  Our guide looked impressed, nodding thoughtfully as he turned to leave. We didn’t pick up the conversation until after Akiiki retired inside his and Ishi’s tent, and had turned on a lamp.

  “What in the hell was that all about?” I whispered to Ishi.

  “I don’t know,” my friend said. “I guess I told him too much, no?”

  “Maybe. But you need to tell me what else was discussed, so we can avoid unwanted surprises.”

  Ishi took his leave of us, and, after answering nature’s call, he rejoined Akiiki, who I assumed was still awake since a soft glow emanated from the tent.

  “I could really use a drink and a smoke,” I told Marie, when it was just the two of us. “But you know what? I’ll hold off for tonight.”

  That seemed to make her happy. We stood, and I pulled her closer. Leading the way to our tent, an irony occurred to me. On the eve of finally getting a little restitution for Mario, I was also ready to share my heart with a woman who had feelings for me.

  I prayed neither move was a mistake.

  Chapter Four

  I’m not sure what awoke me around midnight, but something did.

  At first, I thought it might be footsteps. I reached under my pillow for the Beretta, which happened to be my second most trusted weapon...a souvenir taken from the dying clutches of one Leonardo Da Vinci as a pile of gold coins crushed him inside the Temple of the Jaguar. Yes, it had been a sight to behold, and I relived it each day. It had also cost me my beloved Bowie knife, which I watched disappear into a lava stream as the chamber and all of its contents were lost forever.

  I hate when that happens.

  And, no, not all the gold was lost. I looked forward to reclaiming it, provided we made it through our present circumstances first.

  Now I stirred quietly in the darkened tent, gently lifting Marie’s arm from my chest, where she’d been snuggling comfortably. I was just wondering if maybe I was being a little too paranoid, when I heard the metallic ring of a shovel digging in the sand nearby. What the hell?

  Yeah, that got me moving.

  I debated waking Marie, but couldn’t risk tipping our visitor about someone being awake inside our tent. Regardless of whether it was a local bandit or criminals associated with Egypt’s Foreign Ministry, the result would likely be the same. A spray of bullets from a single assault rifle would be more than sufficient to take care of the four of us.

  I dressed quickly and crept to the tent’s entrance, pulling the canvas aside for a peek.

  “Holy shit!” I whispered.

  A circle of lamps surrounded the marker where we intended to begin our excavation in the morning. A deep incision had been cut into the sand, exposing the tip of a square-topped pyramid covered in gold embossed hieroglyphics, although different from the standard glyphs I was familiar with. The hole spanned forty feet across, with an undetermined depth. Whoever did this apparently accomplished the sand removal without the use of heavy machinery. A lone shovel lay near scaffolding that protruded from the hole in the sand. The scene before me seemed impossible.

  The scaffold’s metal platform shook for a moment, followed by echoed footsteps resounding from below.

  Somebody’s down there...did they find the pyramid’s entrance?

  My first instinct was to wake Ishi and Akiiki, along with an unfamiliar urge to protect Marie, who slept quietly in our sleeping bag. While debating on who to awaken first, a voice addressed me from inside the hole.

  “Are you going to stand around playing with your wee-wee, or do you think you can help me down here?”

  It couldn’t be true, and yet, the voice was certainly one I was familiar with—along with the genital jokes my old man was fond of. Yes, the guy had sounded just like my dad.

  My dad!

  A flood of childhood memories rushed into my mind. Innocence cut short at a young age, when my parents were butchered by Sudanese bandits angered by my father’s resistance to their demands. They wanted a portion of the spoils recovered from an archaeological dig my parents were hired to complete. Dad had shooed them away twice before, telling them never to come back the last time.

  But the bandits returned, armed with Uzis, from what I was later told. I’d heard the guns’ rapid fire, and when I ran out of the straw hut they had constructed as our home away from home, my mom and dad were lying in twin bloody heaps, nearly cut in half by the bullets. The men laughed as they drove away in their trucks.

  Bandits who cared about nothing or no one, murdered the two most important people in my life. The only impor
tant people in my...

  “Well? Are you on your way yet, Nicky?”

  A lump formed in my throat, and my legs felt like jelly as I left the tent and staggered through the sand to the hole. I didn’t know what to do, and even less what to say. Surely I was dreaming. Yes, of course, I was dreaming.

  “I’m coming,” I said hoarsely, and without force. But the unseen visitor must have heard me well enough.

  “Good! See you down here in a few.”

  Again, I wondered if I should awaken the others. I worried the guy—whoever he was—might disappear deep inside the pyramid before I could catch him. Or that I might wake up! Either way, my selfish curiosity got the better of me, and I hurried to the scaffold. I was surprised at how it seemed put together like Dad’s, since he would forgo standard precautions when in a hurry to explore a site. Mom used to get on to him about that shit. Certainly, this rickety structure would qualify for a tongue lashing. He used to laugh at her admonishments, and eventually she’d laugh, too.

  It brought a warm smile to my face that turned pained when I considered the memory was from a world dead to me for nearly two decades. Only the sight of gas lanterns lining the exposed wall kept me from completely giving in to the melancholy hovering close to my heart.

  The old man still can’t set things up right...but damned if this isn’t like him, too.

  My close-up view of the pyramid wall slowed me down, until the voice called again.

  “Do you think I’ve got all damned day to wait on your ass, boy?”

  That got me moving, too.

  I’m dreaming...dreaming. Yes, that was it.

  “Coming!” I said.

  I jumped down when safe enough, trying to reconcile the strange symbols that seemed to be closer to Mayan than Egyptian glyphs. Kind of a weird combination between the two cultures. Chalk one up for Akiiki. An open entrance into the pyramid sat before me, which I expected to be a forged hole into the structure. However, it bore the appearance of design, and beyond the threshold lay a row of steps leading down to what looked like an inclined tunnel leading to deeper chambers. Many more lamps illuminated both the stairway and tunnel.