Crystal Skull Series:1 Devil Orchid

By Gary Farmer

The country is Belize, the year is 1981, and the British are pulling out giving the country Independence. There is a corporation set on destruction, a family trying to uncover a forgotten story hidden within a ruined temple, an ancient evil preparing to once again rise from the shadows, and a lost artifact with secret powers that will cast a young student into a storm of uncontrollable events.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gary Farmer
• Release date: Aug 4, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370814060

Book preview

Gary Farmer

Crystal Skull Series: 1

First published by Gary Farmer in 2017

Copyright © Gary Farmer, 2017

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

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Contents

Acknowledgements

Holzuz Village, Belize

Bravo Site 1981

Belize City

Hiking To Mask Temple

The Hunt

Bravo Site

Carnival

Sketching Mask Temple

The Wreckage

The Hunt

Native Attack

Tower Hill

Time To Chew Ass

The Cantina

Alpha Site

The Livingston's Estate

Ride Up River

Spilling The Beans

In The Jungle

Returning To The Village

Returning To The Massacre

Jungle Tomb

Finding The American

The Vault

Holzuz Needs Help

Cleaning Up

The Missing Story

The Poison

Times Ticking

Enter Crystal Skull

Helping Holzuz Village

Up The River

Leaving Belize

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

This book was solely helped by the persistent support of my loving wife Kaitlynn.

This a story of fiction. All characters, corporations, institutions, and organizations in this book are by result of the author’s imagination, and if real are being used fictitiously without the intent of describing their factual conduct. Any resemblance of actual events, locations, and persons living or dead are coincidental.

1

Holzuz Village, Belize

Why can’t I go on the hunt father? Aapo cried out in protest without thinking. I’m fourteen seasons old and.... He quit without trying to finish arguing his case, when Cadmael gave him that look that all children knew meant no more.

Son you know the hunt is dangerous and no one’s first boar hunt is before sixteen seasons. Cadmael said forcefully while giving him a stern look of disproval. Your showing your not ready by the way your acting. He had told Aapo before that it was disrespectful to question the Chief’s authority even if he is your father.

I’m sorry father. Aapo said hanging his head in defeat. I just get so excited father, when all the men start preparing their bows, clubs, and spears for the hunt. The men of Holzuz go once every season on the wild boar hunt in the Big Creek jungle like their ancestors before them had for centuries. Their hunt wasn’t as much for the meat, but so they wouldn’t loose their warrior heritage and instincts.

I understand son, but in a couple seasons you will be able to join me and your tribesmen on the hunt. Cadmael said while continuing to walk towards the Great hut in the center of the village. Now tell me, have you been taking June Livingston up to the ruins son? Aapo started to lag behind knowing he was busted and mumbled lowly, Yes father.

You know what I told you Aapo. Cadmael said with a deep sigh as he stopped and turned around. We’ve known her father for many seasons son and know he doesn’t like her up there without him.

But June said that Humphrey isn’t able father and she didn’t want to go by herself. Aapo answered quickly having already prepared a story earlier. The truth was he had been taking June to the ruins for a while now and she was going to pay him in a pair of shoes from the England. He had known June since he was young because Humphrey brought her along on his trips up to the ruins.

Ok Aapo but you keep her safe and stay on the trails you know. Cadmael said reluctantly after pausing to think about it for a second. Now I think you have things to be doing son.

Yes father. Aapo said as he turned back towards their family hut happily surprised his father hadn’t came down harder on him.

Cadmael knew his son wasn’t bad just at the age where he was starting to test the boundaries like all boys coming of age. The Great hut wasn’t far ahead of him and all the tribesmen were waiting there for him to start the hunt ritual. Their village Holzuz had been established in the 17th century in the Big Creek Valley of Belize after the Spanish forced their ancestor’s from the cities of Lamanai. Holzuz was just a small village spread over ten acres on the southern tip of the valley not far from the creek. It was thirty or so small round huts made of cedar timber on the sides and domed roofs covered with tightly interwoven palm fronds. From certain vantage points in the village you could see low lying clouds skimming across the mountain range’s treetops below. In the center of Holzuz was the Great hut it was five times larger than any other, had a large tribal carving of a masked deity above the entrance for protection, and one twelve foot tall square pillar made of stone covered from top to bottom in the history of their people. He could hear the voices of his tribesman rumbling from inside the hut and the fresh smoke of burning coals as he reached the steps.

Cadmael stepped through the hut’s door and all the tribesmen silenced once noticing him standing there. In the center of the hut was a round cauldron made of stone sitting on top of smoldering hot coals. There was a fluted style opening in the center of the domed roof to release smoke during any tribal gatherings in the hut. On one side of the hut was Cadmael’s massive and ornately designed chair where he could sit allowing the tribe to surround him and listen. Cadmael walked across the hut to his seat where he took his hunting armor from the mount behind it. As the men watched, he slowly tied the animal bone shoulder pad’s straps behind his head, slid each of his monkey skull elbow pads on, and bent down picking his war club up. He turned to his tribesmen raised the club in the air and yelled WE HUNT TONIGHT. The hut erupted in a roar of cheer’s and hoots that lasted until he lowered his club back to his side. His eyes settled on the cauldron as he walked to the center of the hut preparing to start the ritual.

He had been chief now for twenty two seasons and was responsible for every season’s ritual Ayahuasca brew. In Holzuz the Chief wasn’t the product of succession, but instead the most dominant male figure during the time of transfer. He rose to the top of the tribesmen through many feats of courage and bravery. Before a Chief died it was his duty to pass the knowledge of the ritual brew on to the next man taking his place. Cadmael was taught which ingredients were needed, where to harvest them, and how to prepare them. The first was the Caapi vine or Ayahuasca in Maya which translates to Vine of the soul. Their ancestors would consume the brew some for the heightened senses needed on a dangerous hunt and some for the spiritual healing given by a spirit the natives call Plant Teacher. It required a second ingredient the Viridis shrub to help balance the effects of the Caapi vine or it would be too strong. The final ingredient was the Orquidea Ah-Puch or in English Devil Orchid. It was the most important because of it’s ability to bind the first two and without it the brew would be useless. Cadmael harvested the orchid no sooner than the day before the ritual or it would wither away to nothing. The cauldron was already at a low simmer from the heat below it causing a continuous ripple on it’s surface as Cadmael pulled the ingredients from his pouch.

The special mix of ingredients floated in the cauldron as he scattered them through out the rippling water. He bent down picking up the wooden paddle next to the fire pit and began stirring the brew. Most of the leaves and bark scrapings had started to sink into the cauldron changing the water into a toast colored stew. On top of the stew still sat the orchid with it’s maroon outlined petals creating a barrier around the flower’s devilish center. Cadmael whisked the stew until the orchid was submerged and the brew was ready. He pulled the paddle from the cauldron while looking up at his tribesman and said Tonight is the hunt of the season and we prepare ourselves today in the ways of our ancestors. The hut was silent as all the men sat quiet in reverence of the tribe’s tradition. You join me your Chief today as warriors and brothers the same he said as he lifted a ladle from beneath the cauldron. His eyes focused on the brew pouring out of the ladle as he gave it a few test dips. It was a deep caramel and the sweetness of the Viridis shrub gave it a honey like aroma.

Come around brother’s and drink to the hunt. Cadmael said with a commanding tone as he motioned the men to start a line. The men stood like being called to attention and uniformly created a line around the hut. There were thirty men with their personal drinking bowls in hand taking turns stepping up to the cauldron. Cadmael greeted every tribesman as they received the ceremonial brew with the words Good hunting brother and a single nod of approval. When all the tribesmen had filled their bowls they returned to their places in the hut facing the cauldron. Cadmael took the final ladle of brew and poured it in his own bowl. He then grabbed the bowl with both hands and raised it in the air, tipped his head back, and gulped the hot brew down until the bowl was empty. His vision settled on his tribesman as they followed his lead draining their bowls vigorously to the bottom. They sat patiently as the liquid warmed their bellies and the substances in the brew worked into the bloodstream of their bodies. As Cadmael felt his focus tightening and the beats of his heart increase pace he stepped to the hut’s entrance already leading the hunt.

2

Bravo Site 1981

The beams from the sun seem unusually penetrating today. David thought as he grabbed the handle on the fender of his bulldozer and pulled himself up to his feet. David pondered why they were even in Belize, especially this remote corner of jungle working at such a feverish pace. He had been with GlobeTech industries now for five years and was starting to be offered the better paying contracts like this one. David took the last drag off his cigarette, flicked the butt into a nearby puddle, and picked up his sandwich tearing off the remaining crust while quickly shoving what was left in his mouth. He heard static start to come from the CB radio mounted under the console of his dozer followed by the stern agitated voice of Benson the project manager BACK TO WORK, BACK TO WORK YOUR TIME IS MY MONEY! he blurted.

Lunch break was over so he started to climb his way up the steps leading into the open cab of his dozer while swatting at a cloud of mosquito hawks the size of playing cards. He was surprised the company had supplied all this new equipment for this project unlike others he had worked. He dismissed the thought, took his place in the shiny seat, and reached down grabbing the cb mic. 10-4 boss. he said

While placing his foot on the brake, he turned the key and fired the dozer up. Then headed towards the muddy embankment of the nearby creek to the area he had been working to clear before lunch. He looked around and the rest of the men were quickly boarding their equipment knowing Benson’s gaze was on them from his office in the command trailer. The command trailer sat at the highest point of the site near the edge of a rocky outcrop giving Benson an almost clear view of all the activities below. The rut worn soil shifted the weight of the dozer from side to side while approaching the dense jungle, he noticed a cluster of banana trees then lowered his scoop to keep pushing forward.

It still seemed like a blur since arriving in Corozal four days earlier, being rushed aboard a bus to Tower Hill, and then shuttled by boat over to the project site. The three day ride up river was none too accommodating as the boat seemed to leak almost as fast as the bilge pump could handle and doubled as a livestock transport that smelt like the animals personal sewer. Then being wedged in a narrow bus seat between a wooden cage full of chicken hens and an old chubby Belizian women humming hymns to her rosary beads for six hours up mountain had left him completely worn. After stepping off the boat into the humid jungle air down into a three inch slurry of fresh rain and mountain soil, he was greeted by a company man in a small Willys jeep.

Are you David Clarke in from New Orleans? the driver asked as he cleared the passenger seat of some supply boxes.

Yeah that’s me finest dozer operator GlobeTech has. David replied.

The driver chuckled and said, All right pal hop in were on a schedule if I’m not back with these supplies and you by 7:00 am Benson will have my ass.

Not hesitating he dredged his way across the muddy road to the passenger seat of the jeep and knotted off after taking a seat until being awakened by the motion of the jeeps sudden stop.

They had arrived at the project site and the driver said, Here we are end of the line for you, I gotta get these supplies down to the mess hall and med tent.

He knew that was his queue and stepped out of the jeep with just enough time to get, Thanks out his mouth before the jeep darted of with purpose. Turning to his right there was a set of stairs leading up to a dark green trailer with a single window in the front and the words OFFICE and BRAVO on the side in black letters. As he made his way towards the steps the office door began to open and out stepped a man wearing a leather hat with a up turned brim on one side, olive drab cargo pants, and a half buttoned shirt with rolled up sleeves. In a commanding and heavily British accented voice he said It’s about bloody time you got back with the supplies

This is Bravo site, I’m Benson the boss around here are you the dozer man?

Benson was a hard and stoic looking man well over six feet in height with muscles in abundance enough to intimidate most men. David swallowed and replied, Yes David Clarke sir.

All right man, I don’t have time to hear your bloody life story hand me your file and get your arse down to the equipment area I need that dozer going yesterday. Benson barked harshly.

David hurried up the steps placing his file in Benson’s outstretched hand and turned without eye contact towards the equipment area. He had noticed a tattoo on Benson’s forearm of a downward facing sword, protruding wings, and a banner below inscribed, Who Dares Wins. This was the well known emblem of the British S.A.S soldiers and they were the type of men not to be messed with.

Benson gazed over the work site in prudent calculation of budgets and deadlines. He watched David descending down the mountain’s cleared area to the dense jungles edge where all the equipment was staged. While turning towards the office door a smirk settled upon his face at the thought of these men’s low price and expendability. The last