Clive Cussler: The Mayan Secrets

“Be careful,” said Sam. “Even hearing you say that makes my wife irritated.”

Remi was at the top of the steps on the bridge, aiming at the young man’s head.

The man leaning against the rail glanced at her unimpressed, and said, “Take his gun.”

The man lying on the deck got up and rushed toward Sam. Sam fired a round through the man’s foot and the man fell to the deck and rocked from side to side, wincing and moaning and holding his foot.

As the young man in the expensive jeans moved his gun away from Dr. Garza’s head to aim at Sam, Remi called from above him, “Last chance to drop it.”

Sam said, “She’s a pistol champion. Do you understand? She can put a bullet through the pupil of your eye if she wants to.”

The man looked up at Remi and saw her sighting down the barrel of the pistol she held with a steady two-handed grip. He considered for a moment, then set his pistol on the deck beside him, as Dr. Garza hurried up onto the deck.

“Now, up with your friends,” Remi said. The man climbed to the deck and joined his two colleagues.

“All right,” Sam called out. “Now, all of you, into the water.”

The man at the rail said, “But—”

“Alive or dead, you’re all going to get wet,” said Sam.

The man translated for his companions. The two uninjured men helped their colleague over the rail, then jumped in after him.

When Sam heard the final splash, he stepped to the stern of the yacht, picked up a can of gasoline, walked to the cleat where the small cruiser was tied, poured gasoline on its deck, then untied the boat and pushed it away from the anchored yacht. The five men swam toward it. When the boat had drifted thirty feet away from the yacht, Sam took out the Very pistol, fired a flare onto the cruiser’s deck, and watched the bright orange flames roar to life. There was a smattering of applause from those left on the yacht.

He walked to the foot of the steps to the bridge. “Juan!”

“Yes, Sam?”

“You and George feel healthy enough to work?”

“Yes.”

“Then start the engines, raise the anchor, and get us to that dock over there. Let’s pick up Miguel and Dr. Talamantes and get out of here.”

Dr. Talamantes and Miguel boarded at the dock a few minutes later. Both had run back to the beach when they’d heard the news that there was a yacht burning offshore and, when they’d spotted it heading for the municipal docks, they had gone to meet it. Within a few minutes, they were heading southeast along the coast again.

Three more times they stopped at darkened coastal towns to unload cases of clean water and canned food, flashlights, generators, and gasoline. Each time, the three doctors came in the first boatload, equipped with their standard medical kits.

At each stop, after a few hours the doctors would announce that the emergency cases had all been treated and that there were local people who would take care of the minor complaints now that the medical supplies had been delivered. Sam would call everybody back to the beach, and Miguel would take them back in the lifeboat. The last ones off the beach were always Sam and Remi. As soon as they were aboard the yacht again, the crew would raise the anchor, and the vessel would continue down the coast toward Tapachula.

At dawn on the fourth day, Sam and Remi were asleep in their cabin when Miguel knocked. Sam got up to open the door. “What’s up?”

“We can see Tapachula. Juan thinks you should come to the bridge.”

Sam and Remi dressed quickly and headed up on deck. When they climbed the steps to the bridge, they could see why Juan had wanted to wake them. Through the windshield they could see the distant shape of Tacaná, the second highest peak in Mexico. It was a dark blue pyramid miles back from the coast, standing alone against the sky. This morning, it was emitting a line of gray smoke that trailed off to the east.

Juan said, “It’s technically active, but it hasn’t had a big eruption since 1950.”

“Did they say on the radio that it was about to do anything?” asked Remi. “Have they told people to evacuate?”

“They don’t seem to know what’s happening yet. They say maybe the earthquake shook something loose or opened up cracks. The roads are out, so I don’t think the scientists have gotten there to measure anything yet.”

“How far is the volcano from the city?” asked Sam.

“Much farther than it looks,” Juan said. “The mountain is four thousand meters, so it looks close. But we’ll have plenty to do without the volcano. We’ll be off Tapachula in twenty minutes.”

Remi went down the steps and then belowdecks to the cabins and knocked on doors. “We’re almost to Tapachula,” she called.

A few minutes later, the crew, the doctors, and the Fargos were all up and having a simple breakfast of coffee, eggs, and fruit on deck. It was difficult for any of them to keep from staring into the distance at the smoke from the volcano smeared across the sky. As they approached the city, they began to see the devastation — buildings that had half disintegrated in the shaking, leaving great piles of bricks beside walls that were, for the moment, still standing; long rows of telephone poles that had fallen, leaving electrical wires draped over parked cars or lying in the street. Here and there, in the panoramic view from the deck of the yacht, they could see small, steady fires that had probably begun when natural gas pipes had broken. One by one, they left the table to prepare to go ashore.

They had visited enough affected towns on their way down the coast to have improved their methods greatly. The three doctors, who had already replenished their medical kits, each packed two large backpacks with supplies they’d needed in the last towns. There were fires, so they brought burn medications and painkillers. There was fallen masonry, so they brought splints, sutures, and — for the worst cases — amputation kits. Sam, Remi, and George lined up the cases of food and water, loaded the first of the generators and gasoline cans. They knew from experience that their trip to shore would attract those eager to help as well as the desperate, so they included cases of flashlights, first aid kits, and tools for digging people out of collapsed buildings and for making temporary shelters.

At seven, while they were packing, they could already see people gathering on the beach to meet them. They loaded the heaviest items into the lifeboat before they lowered it to the water, then formed a line so they could hand the other boxes and packs from one person to the next down the ladder to the boat. When they were finished, the boat was a bit overloaded, so they had to carefully arrange themselves to keep it evenly balanced.

The trip to shore included the three doctors and Sam, Remi, and Miguel, who would run the motor and bring the boat in safely. Miguel used the waves judiciously, positioning the boat at the proper angle so it would be propelled in rather than rolled over. Just as the boat was near the shore, he turned off the motor and tilted it up to protect the propeller. As the keel scraped at the bow, Sam and Remi jumped out and hauled the boat ashore.

The local people were overjoyed to see what they had brought. The three doctors were immediately surrounded by people eager to guide them to the local hospital and carry their medical supplies. Sam, Remi, and Miguel unloaded the rest of the supplies onto the sand and pushed the boat back out to sea so Miguel could go back for the next load of food, water, and a second generator.

Sam and Remi went with the doctors to get the first generator up and running at the hospital and then returned to the beach to get the second generator, when Miguel returned, and bring it to a medical clinic that was still standing across town.