Skull of the Zipa PREVIEW CHAPTERS, Chuck Chitwood [ebook reader library .txt] 📗

vision. I narrow my eyes and stare down at him as he’s a bit shorter than I am. “Leave me alone or I’ll scream.”

 

“Ha. You scream, chica, and you be back in that tree and I still gonna get you. Go on, scream.”

 

“You touch me and you’ll have to deal with Santiago. And I know you’re scared of him.”

 

“Santiago? Santiago wants to be paid for the job. His boss say to take your papá and then when your papá tells where the gold skull is, everybody is happy and we let him go. But your papa did not tell where the gold skull is, so we not get paid. Then Santiago says we take you and make your papá tell or you get hurt. Simple. But I do no think the skull is real. Is legend. So, I be happy with just you.” He smiles broadly at me.

 

Pablo’s missing four teeth. Yuck. “So, if you don’t have my father, what did you do with him? Where is he?”

 

Pablo shrugged and rubbed his scratchy beard against my right cheek. “He is no here. I do not know where Santiago takes him. Santiago, he make the deals. No me. I just get paid. Now you shut up.”

 

Think.

 

He moves his face closer to mine scratching my cheek until his dried cracked lips are touching mine. I start to gag, but force myself to let this squatty little perv kiss me. He tilts his head to the left and closes his eyes like he’s in some old black and white movie.

 

Moron.

 

Now’s my chance. My only chance. I raise the SAT phone quickly and bring the metal case down with lightning speed on his left temple.

 

Pablo crumbles to the ground with a grunt. Before he can get up I kick him between his legs. The steel-tipped boots I’m wearing make a powerful impact. He doubles over and tries to scream, but he’s not fast enough. I bring the SAT phone down again on the back of his head and he falls to the ground with a dull thud. I check to see if he’s breathing, but I could really care less. Hearing low gurgling breaths, I spit on him and wipe my mouth. I’m free.

 

I take off running down the dirt road. There’s only one way to go on this lonely path snaking through the trees. I know I need to hurry but I need to pace myself and pay attention to the terrain. It’s not quite dawn yet and I’m basically running blind. One misstep and could easily twist an ankle on a tree root or one of the many ruts in the road. I could get caught up in the vines hanging down all over the place. The small flashlight barely shows the road ten feet ahead of me.

 

After about a mile, my knees start to feel weak. I’m tired. I’m hungry. I’m anxious. And I exerted so much energy getting away from Pablo, I feel woozy.

 

I want to stop and catch my breath or maybe throw up. I know that distance is the most important thing. But they have a truck. They could be here in two minutes. No matter how far I run they can catch me.

 

My stride shortens. My body feels like it’s shutting down. Hot tears roll down my cheeks. No sobs, no crying, just tears.

 

Then from somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear my mother speaking to me. No shortcuts. Within a stride, I’m walking. No shortcuts. Her voice is louder. I stop and reach over, grabbing my knees to catch my breath. No shortcuts, Hadassah.

 

I think about what my mom would say about Pablo. She wouldn’t congratulate me on kicking a kidnapper’s butt or getting myself out of hanging upside down in a tree. She would hand me a cup of coffee and say with barely a smile, “So, was he a good kisser?” Then she would burst out loud laughing.

 

Laughing bubbles up from somewhere deep inside me. I whisper, “No shortcuts.” As rays of sun start break through the jungle’s canopy. “No shortcuts.” I take off down the road faster this time. I am filled with confidence. “No shortcuts.”

 

Chapter 10 - NO CHANCE

 

I’ve wondered over the last three days while I was on the plane, or hanging upside down, or now while running at a feverish pace through the Colombian jungle what Chance must think. No phone call informed him why his date stood him up for prom, just a cryptic note on the door. ‘Family emergency, I’ve got to go out of town. Call you from the plane to explain. I’m so sorry! Haddie.’

 

He probably ended up in Courtney’s arms after they were announced prom king and queen. If I hadn’t dropped my phone in the kitchen, at least I could have called him. Stupid Dr. Waters refused to let me use his on the plane. He gave me some lame excuse about the school phone could only be used for official school business. Dad was right about him. He’s lucky he’s even alive. If I’d been just a tad bit quicker he wouldn’t be. And I would’ve been justified in taking him out. After all, I was alone, he broke into my house. He came towards me first.

 

The day of prom, I stood in my kitchen wondering where my father was and holding a butcher knife as a tall man walked towards me and I charged at him. Lucky for him, he quickly side stepped the blade headed straight to his chest. If I’d been wearing regular shoes, instead of flip-flops to protect my pedicure, I’d have tried again. But my foot caught the bottom of the doorframe leading to the dining room. I fell to the ground and the knife flew out of my hands clanging on the hardwood floors. What’s more, my phone slid under the china cabinet. I scrambled for the knife but stopped when I heard a familiar voice.

 

“Haddie? Are you alright?” I turned quickly towards the voice and saw that it belonged to my dad’s boss, Dr. Julian Waters, Dean of Something or Other.

 

“I’m fine.” I stood up. There was no doubt I was relieved but I was also frustrated. “What are you doing in my house?”

 

Dr. Waters, a thin man with dark bags under his eyes, paced back and forth. “I… I came here hoping I… I would find your father.”

 

“What? He’s in Colombia. I’m sure you must have known that.”

 

“Well, yes. Of course I did… do… look, Haddie.” Waters struggled to think of what to say. He looked genuinely concerned and I thought the guy my pass out or something because he had broken out into a sweat. “I don’t want to worry you… but…”

 

I’ve never liked it when people say they don’t want to worry me because whatever it is they tell me always worries me. “What is it?”

 

“Like I said, I came here hoping I’d find your father. But when I got here, the door was wide opened and I came in. That’s when I saw someone had ransacked your house and I knew it was true.”

 

“What was true?”

 

“Haddie, I got a call early today saying your father had been kidnapped and that if we wanted to see him alive, I had to find some map your father had. At first, I thought it was a joke so I tried calling your father’s cell. But he didn’t answer.”

 

“Kidnapped? What do you mean kidnapped?”

 

Dr. Waters straightened his red power tie. “Kidnapped. As in ‘taken by force and held captive until a ransom is paid.’

 

“Yes, Dr. Waters, I know what kidnapped means. I meant ‘could you please explain the situation further?’ So…” I’ve always loathed people who speak down to me but it wasn’t the time to get angry.

 

“As I was saying, the man on the phone said something about finding a map your father was working with or if I had knowledge of its whereabouts. Oh, I’m so sorry Haddie, maybe you ought to sit down?” He pulled out one of the dining room chairs for me.

 

“I’m fine, Dr. Waters. Just please tell me what you know.”

 

“These men found out about something he was working on; something incredibly valuable. They took him and told me they would trade him for it.”

 

“Have you called the cops?”

 

“No, no, no. I… we can’t. They told me if we involve the cops they would kill him. Apparently they grabbed him not long after he stepped off the plane in Colombia.”

I suppose I should’ve been beside myself with worry but I was surprisingly calm. “You’ve got to be kidding me. My dad was kidnapped in Colombia? And just to be clear, they told you that if we give them whatever it is they’re looking for, they’ll just let him go?”

 

“Yes. Exactly.” He smiled like I’d just hit the jackpot or something. “I’ve heard about groups in South America that kidnap Americans. Most of the time they want money but since they only want a map, it must be very valuable. When I called my office and had them check your father’s itinerary, I found out he was supposed to meet Dr. Javier Quesada at a restaurant in Bogotá, but I contacted Javier just an hour or so ago and he said your father never showed up. It’s like they had somebody there waiting for him who knew his itinerary.”

 

“Dr. Waters,” I was trying to process what he was telling me but it all sounded so off the wall I couldn’t quite grasp hold of it. Why would anyone want my father? Okay, so he is known for finding treasure. “Okay. So he was kidnapped for ransom so why can’t we call the police or the FBI or the CIA or whoever you call when things like this happen?”

 

“Haddie, we can’t call the police. They told me no police at all or they’ll” he gulped, “kill him. That’s how they do these things.” He rubbed his hands together. “I can only guess he didn’t have the map with him and they had someone here search for it. When they couldn’t find it, they called me. That’s why I came over. I’ve looked but I can’t find anything that looks like a map. Do you know what map they’re talking about?”

 

“No. I haven’t got a clue.”

 

Dr. Waters furrowed his brow. “This is terrible. I don’t know what to do. Even if I can figure out what the map is, the kidnappers might not even be able to read it because he uses that silly code of his. Wait.” Waters stopped speaking as if he was deep in thought. “Haddie, do you think it’s not really a map? Your father is always scribbling things down that look like nothing to me. What if the map is one of his scribbles; somewhere in this room? Maybe in a notebook or something?”

 

“I guess. It’s possible.”

 

He sat down and rubbed his forehead. “Haddie, I know this is going to sound crazy but if we can find this map or whatever it is, would you be willing to come with me to Colombia?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I’ve seen the little coded notes from you on his office wall at the university. You understand your father’s gibberish shorthand. If I can find whatever