"You've got no idea how much I want him, but I can't. Let one of these
women give him her milk, have a twin for her own child."
For that wrenching moment I'd held the very baby my heart longed for.
But he was the last one on earth I could have. Just go, take Sarah and
find Steve and go as far from _Baalum_ as you can, before you lose your
compass and do something terribly selfish.
"Marcelina," I said, reaching to hug her, "tell them these 'sacred'
children are all from his _medico_. Look up 'in vitro' in your
dictionary. That's all it is."
She hugged me back, though I wasn't sure whether she understood. Then I
asked her to take Sarah's hand for a moment while I went back up the
steps to the platform. I felt a primal anger as I took one last look at
the women Alex Goddard had wronged, now clustered around the body of
Tz'ac Tzotz's mother. Then I bade them a silent farewell, turned, and
walked, holding my tears, back through the stone room.
The rear of the pyramid was deserted, the steps slippery and dangerous,
but it was our way out. I began leading Sarah down, step by treacherous
step. Everything had happened so fast I'd barely had time to think
about Steve. Those flames, my God. It was finally sinking in, truly
hitting me. Had he gotten out in time?
Then the slimy Rio Tigre, now swelling from the rain, came into view. I
stared at it a second before I noticed the three young Army recruits
leaning against the trunk of a giant Cebia tree next to the trail,
their rifles covered in plastic against the rain. When they saw us,
they stiffened, shifted their weapons, and glanced up at the top of the
pyramid, as though seeking orders. Neither group had any idea why the
other was there. Sarah and I were an unforeseen contingency they hadn't
been briefed on.
What are they going to do? They have no idea what just happened.
"Morgy," Sarah said, gazing blankly at the sky, "the colors are so
beautiful. Can we--?"
"Shhh, we'll talk in a minute."
I smiled and nodded and began walking past the young privates, holding
my breath. Then a spectral form emerged out of the rain just behind
them.
It took me a moment to recognize who it was. I was hoping it might be
Steve, but instead it was a man dressed in white, now covered with mud,
and holding a knife, not obsidian this time but long and steel. His
eyes were glazed, and I wasn't sure if he even knew exactly where he
was. Why had he come down to the river? Had he known I'd come here, too?
For a moment we just stood staring at each other, while the Army
privates began edging up the hill, as though not wanting to witness
what surely was coming next.
"Why don't you put an end to all the evil?" I yelled at him finally,
trying to project through the rain. "Just stop it right now."
"_Baalum_ was my life's work," he said. Then he looked down at the
knife a moment, as though unsure what it was. Finally he turned and
flung it in the direction of the river.
"It could have been beautiful," I said back. Thank God the knife was
gone. But what would he do next? "But now--"
"No," he said staring directly at me, his eyes seeming to plead. "It
is. It will be again. To make a place like _Baalum _is to coin the
riches of God. I want you to stay. To be part of it. Together, we . .
." But whatever else he said was lost in the cloudburst that abruptly
swept over the embankment. In an instant it was a torrent, the last
outpouring of the storm, powerful and unrelenting. Nature had unleashed
its worst, as though Kukulkan was rendering his final judgment.
"Morgy, I'm falling," Sarah screamed. The ground she and I had been
standing on began turning to liquid as though it were a custard melting
in the tropical heat. As we began slipping down the embankment toward
him, I gripped her arm with my left hand and reached up to seize a
low-lying branch of the Cebia with my right.
Then, under the weight of the water, all the soil beneath us gave way,
tons of wet riverbank that abruptly buckled outward.
Alex Goddard made no sound as the mass of earth lifted him backward
toward the river. His sullied garb of white blended into the gray
sludge of mud and rain, then faded to darkness as the embankment
dissolved into the swirling Rio Tigre.
"Sar, hold on. Please hold on." I felt my grasp of the tree slipping,
but now the mud slide had begun to stabilize.
I managed to cling to the limb for a few seconds more, the bark cutting
into my fingers, and then my hold slipped away, sending us both
spiraling downward till we were temporarily snagged by the Cebia's
newly exposed undergrowth. I still had her hand though just barely, but
the torrent of rain and mud was subsiding, and finally we collapsed
together into the gnarled network of roots.
After a moment's rest, I managed to crawl out and pull her up.
"Come on, Sar. Try and walk."
Together we stumbled and slid down the last incline before the river's
edge, then turned upstream along the bank. After about fifty yards,
sure enough, the native _cayucos_, the hollowed-out mahogany canoes I'd
told Steve about, were still there just as I'd seen them that first
morning, bobbing and straining at their moorings. In the rain I
couldn't tell how usable they were, but I figured going downriver was
the only way we'd ever be able to get out. We'd have to flee the way
Sarah had that first time.
For a moment I thought they all were empty--dear God, no--but then I
realized there was a drenched figure in the last one in the row. When I
recognized who it was, I think I completely lost it; all the horror of
the last two days swallowed me up. I grabbed Sarah and hugged her for
dear life, feeling the tears coursing down my cheeks. I literally
couldn't help myself.
"They were tied up here just like you said." Steve wiped the rain from
his eyes, then reached to take my hand. His bandaged nose was bleeding
again, and he looked like he'd just been half killed. "I told those
little Army _chicos_ I was a big amigo of _el doctor _and they saluted
and showed me where these were tied up."
"Thank God you're okay. What happened? Did--?"
"Ramos, the son of a bitch. He came in and ... I guess it was time to
finish me off. But I wasn't as drugged out as he thought." He was
staring at Sarah, clearly relieved but asking no questions. "I brought
along his nine-millimeter"--he indicated the silver automatic in his
belt--"in case we run into problems."
I wanted to kiss him, but I was still too shaken up. Instead I focused
on helping Sarah in without capsizing everything.
After I'd settled her, I pulled myself over the side and reached for a
paddle.
"If we go with the current," I said, "we'll get to the Usumacinta.
Hopefully the flooding will help push us downstream."
"Honestly, I didn't think the fire would get away from me like it did."
He shoved off amidst the swirling debris. "Jesus. I heard them taking
you away, and I assumed you didn't get to mess up his lab. So I figured
there was one way . . . I just threw around some ether and pitched a
match. The place was empty, so . . ."
I looked around at the roiling waters, snakes and crocodiles lurking,
and felt a lifetime of determination. Was Alex Goddard still alive? I
no longer cared. . . .
Sunrise was breaking through the last of the rain, laying dancing
shadows on the water as we rowed for midstream. Someday, I knew, what
was real about _Baalum _and what I'd dreamed here might well merge
together, the way they had for Sarah. But for now, true daylight never
looked better.