Curse of the Ruins (6 page)

Vasquez stared. He blinked and then aimed his gun at the Indian. Katie elbowed him in the stomach as hard as she could. The gun fell from his hand.

The police sergeant rushed from behind a boulder and kicked the weapon away. He held his gun on the thief. “Don’t move.”

Sam scrambled out from behind a creosote bush. “Katie, are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” She watched the sergeant tie up the thief. “But how—”

“You have me to thank,
señorita
.” Pepe stepped around the tent. “I told my uncle Francisco that you were going to the ruins. It was he who suggested following you just in case you ran into trouble. And when I heard the sound of motorcycles, I was sure you would need my help also.”

“The police sergeant is your uncle?” Katie demanded. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“You did not ask,” Pepe said, shrugging.

The sergeant winked at her as he marched his second captive to a flat rock and ordered him to sit.

“Hey, everybody,” Shala yelled down from the opening. “Look who I found.”

Katie covered her eyes and squinted up. Her breath caught in her throat.

The bandaged face of her father peered down at her.

Katie brought her father a second cup of coffee from the machine in the police station’s lobby. He gave her a warm smile and then went on with his story.

“I was suspicious of Vasquez and Zamora right from the start. They didn’t seem to know much about archaeology, and yet they claimed to be the advance team sent down by the government to help me on the El Debajo dig. It was Isaac here who told me what they were up to.”

The tall Indian stood nearby with his arms
folded. He nodded at the professor and talked to him in sign language.

“You see, Isaac is a descendant of the original cliff dwellers. Unfortunately, he can’t speak, but that didn’t stop him from being very concerned about the way the digging at the ruins would be handled. When he overheard those two imposters talking about exploiting the burial caves and stealing the artifacts, Isaac gave me his great-grandfather’s map for safekeeping.”

“And then you carved a copy of it on my money pouch and sent it to me so the crooks wouldn’t get it.” Katie held the pouch out for the sergeant to see.

“Right. Only at the time, I had no idea how desperate those two really were. They believed the old stories about the rivers of gold.” The professor touched the bandages on his head. “One night they ambushed me, tied me up, and left me in a ditch. If it hadn’t been for Isaac, I might not have made it. He carried me to the hidden burial tunnels and took care of my wounds. I was delirious for several days.”

“What about the legend?” Sam asked. “Are
there really underground caverns of gold near the ruins?”

“It’s doubtful. But Isaac says there are miles of hand-dug tunnels. And the cliff dwellers were known to bury certain items they considered valuable with their dead. If we can find some of them it could help us understand their culture better. When I feel a little stronger, we’ll take Katie’s map and go exploring.”

“I am glad to see that you are recovering, Professor.” The sergeant put down his pen and notepad. “Your children and nephew were quite worried about you.”

“I know. I just wish I had found out about Vasquez and Zamora in time to warn them. If I had been paying better attention, maybe I could have prevented all this from happening.”

“Oh, they were never in any real danger,
señor
,” Pepe said pleasantly. “I was taking very good care of them.”

“He sure was,” Sam said sarcastically. “For a price.”

Pepe looked hurt. “Are you saying that you
are dissatisfied with my work? Did I not do everything you asked?”

“And then some.” Shala patted Pepe on the shoulder. “Bringing your uncle to the ruins was beyond the call of duty.”

“It sure was,” Katie assured him. “Without you, those two thieves might have gotten away with their rotten plan. Isn’t that right, Sam?”

“Okay. I guess we do owe him. How much is it going to cost me this time?” Sam reached into his back pocket. “My wallet. It’s gone!”

“Looking for this?” Pepe grinned and dangled the wallet in front of him. “My friend, you already paid for the donkeys and also gave your trustworthy guide a very unselfish tip.”

“How nice of me.” Sam grabbed the wallet. “Do I have anything left?”

“Enough. Of course I would be glad to help you spend the rest. It so happens, I have an aunt who makes the finest enchiladas and
menudo
in all New Mexico.” Pepe moved to the door. “I will take you there. It will cost you practically nothing.”

“Enchiladas sound great.” Katie winked at her dad and Shala. “I am so lucky to have such a wise and generous
older
brother.”

Professor Crockett scratched his head. “Am I missing something here?”

Sam looked into his wallet and sighed. “No, Dad—it looks like I’m the one who’s missing something.”

THE CLIFF DWELLERS

In the southwestern United States and northern Mexico, evidence still stands of ancient peoples who built their villages high in the faces of sheer canyon walls. These ancient Indians are now called the Anasazi, which means “the ancient ones.”

Almost every facet of the cliff dwellers’ lives was conducted high above the canyon floor. Families slept and stored their possessions in small, cell-like rooms, which opened onto a common courtyard. Here they held religious ceremonies, worked, cooked, ate, and played. The cliff dwellers grew crops, hunted, and searched for roots and berries. Water was a problem; they had to carry it from springs below their homes and store it in jars.

Hundreds of people could live in the cliff dwellings, which were easy to defend from outside attack. Shouts of warning that enemies were entering the canyon echoed loudly off the rock walls. And when the ladders and ropes to the cliff dwellings’ entrances
were lifted, the only way to reach them was by handholds and footholds carved into the sides of the sandstone walls.

The Anasazi felt safe in their cliff fortresses, but drought and new enemies eventually drove them from their caves, and they moved south and east. Their descendants can be found among the present-day Pueblo Indians.

Don’t miss all the exciting action!

Will Little Bear Tucker and his friend Sarah Thompson have heard the eerie Apache legend many times. Will’s grandfather especially loves to tell them about Red Horse—an Indian brave who betrayed his people, was beheaded, and now haunts the Sacramento Mountain range, searching for his head. To Will and Sarah it’s just a story—until they decide to explore a newfound mountain cave, a cave filled with dangerous treasures.

Deep underground, Will and Sarah uncover an old chest stuffed with a million dollars. But now armed bandits are after them. When they find a gold Apache statue hidden in a skull, it seems Red Horse is hunting them, too. Then they lose their way, and each step they take in the damp, dark cavern could be their last.

Friends Brett Wilder and Tom Houston are video game whizzes. So when a new virtual reality arcade called Rodomonte’s Revenge opens near their home, they make sure they’re its first customers. The game is awesome. There are flaming fire rivers to jump, beastly buzz-bugs to
fight, and ugly tunnel spiders to escape. If they’re good enough they’ll face Rodomonte, an evil giant waiting to do battle within his hidden castle.

But soon after they play the game, strange things start happening to Brett and Tom. The computer is taking over their minds. Now everything that happens in the game is happening in real life. A buzz-bug could gnaw off their ears. Rodomonte could smash them to bits. Brett and Tom have no choice but to play Rodomonte’s Revenge again. This time they’ll be playing for their lives.

“… please, anybody … fire … need help.”