'Oh,' the man said.
'So who are you?' Race asked.
'Oh, yes, I'm very sorry, I completely forgot to introduce myself,' the man said, straightening. 'My name is Doctor Miguel Moros Marquez. I am an anthropologist from the Uni versity of Peru and I've been living with this tribe for the last nine years.'
A minute later, Race was shoved down a thin sloping path that descended into the mud.
The path was bounded on either side by high earthen walls and it ended at a small wooden gate that opened onto the pit. As soon as Race arrived in front of the gate, it slid open—pulled upward by a pair of Indians standing on the ground above—and he stepped tentatively out into the pit that adjoined the caiman-infested moat.
The pit was roughly square in shape and it was big— about thirty feet by thirty feet.
It was lined on three sides by sheer muddy walls. The entire fourth wall, however, was comprised of an enormous gate constructed of a latticework of bamboo 'bars'. Through it, Race could see the dark waves of the moat outside.
To make matters worse, the floor of the pit was covered in a layer of black water—water that sloshed freely in through the criss-crossing bars of the bamboo gate from the moat outside. Its depth where Race was standing was about knee- deep. Its depth in other parts of the pit was indeterminate.
Well, this is new, Will. What the hell did you do to get yourself into this situation ?
Just then, a rectangular section of the enormous bamboo gate—a gate within the gate -was raised by some Indians standing at the rim of the pit and immediately a wide open ing was created in the middle of the larger gate between the pit and the caiman-infested moat.
Race watched in horror as the gate was lifted higher and higher, making the opening wider and wider. After a few moments it reached its zenith and stopped and there fol lowed a long silence.
The inhabitants of the village now lined the rims of the pit and peered down into it, waiting for the arrival of one of the caimans.
Race patted his pockets for any weapons he could use.
He was still wearing his jeans and T-shirt and the kevlar breastplate that Uli had given to him at the mine, and of course, his glasses and Yankees baseball cap.
No weapons except for the grappling hook that hung from his belt.
Race grabbed it. It had a length of rope attached to it, and at the moment its four silver claws were retracted, lying flush against the hook's handle like an umbrella in the closed position.
He looked at it for a moment, thinking. Maybe he could use it to climb out of here—-
It was then that something very large slid in through the open gate from the moat.
Race froze.
Even though fully three-quarters of its body must have been under the surface, it was still absolutely enormous.
Race saw the nostrils and the eyes and the rounded armoured back protruding above the surface—all moving at the same speed as the big animal cruised ominously through the water. He saw its long plated tail swishing lazily back and forth behind it, propelling it slowly forward.
It was a caiman and it was huge.
At least an eighteen-footer.
Once the massive reptile was fully inside the pit, the bamboo gate behind it was lowered back into its slot and locked into place.
Now it was just Race and the caiman.
Facing off.
Good God…
Race sidestepped away from the big beast, backing into a corner of the square-shaped pit, his feet sloshing through the knee-deep water.
The caiman didn't move a muscle.
In fact, the enormous crocodile-like creature didn't even seem to be aware of his presence at all.
Race could hear his heart pounding loudly inside his head.
Kathumpkathumpkathump.
The caiman still didn't move.
Race stood frozen in the corner of the pit.
And then suddenly, without warning, the caiman moved.
But it wasn't a quick movement of any kind. It didn't rush forward. Nor did it lunge or leap at Race. Rather, it just lowered itself, slowly and ominously, beneath the surface of the muddy water.
Race's eyes went instantly wide.
Holy shit.
The caiman had just submerged itself completely! He couldn't see it. In fact, in the soft blue moonlight and the flickering orange light of the Indians' torches, he couldn't see anything but the small waves on the surface of the
