The Ruins

hard to think clearly. She wanted to get out of the truck, but when she tugged at the map again, the driver still wouldn't let her have it.

He shook his head. 'This place,' he said. 'No good.'

'No good?' she asked. She had no idea how he meant this.

He nodded. 'No good you go this place.'

Outside, the others had turned to stare at the truck. They were waiting for her. Beyond them, the path started. The trees grew over it, forming a shady tunnel, almost to the point of darkness. She couldn't see very far along it. 'I don't understand,' Amy said.

'Fifteen dollars, I take you back.'

'We're looking for his brother.'

The driver shook his head, vehement. 'I take you new place. Fifteen dollars. Everyone happy.' He smiled to demonstrate what he meant: wide, showing his teeth. They were large, very thick-looking, and black along the gums.

'This is the right place,' Amy said. 'It's on the map, isn't it?' She pulled at the map, and he let her have it. She pointed down at theX, then toward the path. 'This is it, right?'

The driver's smile faded; he shook his head, as if in disgust, and waved her toward the open door. 'Go, then,' he said. 'I tell you no good, but still you go.'

Amy held out the map, pointing at theX again. 'We're looking for-'

'Go,' the man said, cutting her off, his voice rising, as if he'd suddenly lost patience with this whole conversation, as if he were growing angry. He kept waving toward the door, his face turned away from her, from the proffered map. 'Go, go, go.'

So she did. She climbed out, pushed shut the door, and watched the truck pull slowly away, back onto the road.

The heat was like a hand that reached forward and wrapped itself around her. At first, it felt nice after the chill of the air conditioning, but then, very quickly, the hand began to squeeze. She was sweating, and there were mosquitoes-hovering, humming, biting. Jeff had taken a can of insect repellent from his pack and was spraying everyone with it. The dog kept lunging at them even as the pickup drove off, lurching and swaying along the deep ruts in the road. They could still hear its barking long after the truck was out of sight.

'What did he want?' Stacy asked. She'd already been sprayed. Her skin was shiny with it, and she smelled like air freshener. The mosquitoes were still biting her, though; she kept slapping at her arms.

'He said we shouldn't go.'

'Go where?'

Amy pointed down the path.

'Why not?' Stacy asked.

'He said it's no good.'

'What's no good?'

'Where we're going.'

'The ruins are no good?'

Amy shrugged; she didn't know. 'He wanted fifteen dollars to drive us somewhere else.'

Jeff came over with the can of repellent. He took the map from her and began to spray. Amy held out her arms, then lifted them above her head so he could get her torso. She turned in a slow circle, all the way around. When she was facing him again, he stopped spraying, crouched to put the repellent back in his pack. They all stood there, watching him.

A disquieting thought occurred to Amy. 'How're we getting back?' she asked.

Jeff squinted up at her. 'Back?'

She pointed down the road after the vanished pickup truck. 'To Coba.'

He turned to stare at the road, thinking on this. 'The guidebook said you can always flag down a passing bus.' He shrugged; he seemed to realize how foolish this was. 'So I assumed…'

'There aren't going to be any buses on that road,' Amy said.

Jeff nodded. This was obvious enough.

'A bus couldn't even fit on that road.'

'It also said you can hitch-'

'You see any cars pass, Jeff?'

Jeff sighed, cinching his pack shut. He stood up, slung it over his shoulder. 'Amy-' he began.

'The whole time we were driving, did you see any-'

'They must have a way to get supplies in.'

'Who?'

'The archaeologists. They must have a truck. Or access to a truck. When we find Mathias's brother, we can just ask them to, you know, take us all back to Coba.'

'Christ, Jeff. We're stranded out here, aren't we? That's, like, a twenty-mile walk we're gonna have to do. Through the fucking jungle.'

'Eleven.'

'What?'

'It's eleven miles.'

'There's no way that was eleven miles.' Amy turned to the others for support, but only Pablo met her eyes. He was smiling; he had no idea what they were talking about. Mathias was digging through his pack. Stacy and Eric were staring at the ground. She could tell they thought this was just her complaining again, and it made her angry. 'Nobody else is bothered by this?'

'Why is it my responsibility?' Jeff asked. 'Why am I the one who was supposed to figure this whole thing out?'

Amy threw up her hands, as if the answer were obvious. 'Because…,' she said, but then she fell silent. Why was it Jeff's responsibility? She felt certain it was, yet she couldn't think why.

Jeff turned to the others, gestured toward the path. 'Ready?' he asked. Everyone but Amy nodded. He started forward, followed by Mathias, then Pablo, then Eric.

Stacy gave Amy a sympathetic look. 'Just go with it, sweetie,' she said. 'Okay? You'll see. It'll all work out.'

She hooked arms with her, pulled her into motion. Amy didn't resist; they started toward the path together, arm in arm, Jeff and Mathias already vanishing into the shadows ahead of them, birds crying out overhead to mark their passage into the jungle's depths.

The map said they had to go two miles along the path. Then they'd see another trail, branching off to their left. This one would lead them gradually uphill. At the top of the hill, they'd find the ruins.

They'd been walking for almost twenty minutes when Pablo stopped to pee. Eric stopped, too. He dropped his pack to the trail, sat on it, resting. The trees alongside the path blocked the sun, but it was still too hot to be walking this far. His shirt was soaked through with sweat; his hair clung damply to his forehead. There were mosquitoes and some other type of very small fly, which didn't sting but seemed to be drawn to Eric's perspiration. They swirled around him in a cloud, giving off a high-pitched hum. Either he'd sweated all the bug spray off or it was worthless.

Stacy and Amy caught up with them while Pablo was still peeing. Eric heard them talking as they approached, but they fell silent when they got close. Stacy gave Eric a smile, patted him on the head as she went by. They didn't stop, didn't even slow, and after they got a little ways down the trail, he heard them begin to speak again. He felt a little flicker of disquiet, the sense that they might be gossiping about him. Or maybe not. Maybe it was Jeff. They were secret keepers, though, whisperers; it was something Eric still hadn't grown accustomed to, their closeness. Sometimes he caught himself scowling at Amy for no good reason, not liking her: he was jealous. He wanted to be the one Stacy whispered to, not the one she whispered about, and it bothered him that this wasn't the case.

The Greek had an immense bladder. He was still peeing, a puddle forming at his feet. The tiny black flies