Free The Deadly Curse of Toco-Rey by Frank Peretti Page B

Then he spun and planted his foot in the groin of the other man to give him something to think about.
    â€œRun!” his father shouted, taking on three Kachakas while ten more closed in on him.
    With his father holding back the Kachakas, Jay turned and ran like the wind. Out of the village and into the cover of the jungle, he had little idea of which way to go except toward the ruins. Tomás and Juan had to be out there somewhere. They had rifles and could help, if only he could find them! He could hear the struggle going on back in the village: the shouts, the blows. Then his father yelled one more time, “Run, Jay, run!” Jay tried to hold back his tears. In the dark of the jungle, he was nearly blind as it was.

    By now, Dr. Cooper could see nothing but Kachaka faces, bodies, and arms. He was floating in a mob of angry, shouting natives. They held his arms, his legs, his hair. He couldn’t struggle or trip or punch or even move. It was over. From somewhere he could hear the chief yell an order. The mob started moving as one man toward the cage.
    Dear Lord, he prayed. Just let Jay make it out of here. And remember Lila, wherever she is.
    He could hear someone fumbling with the cage door. The carvies were going absolutely wild.
    And then the crowd fell quiet. He could hear the chief’s voice now, not yelling but talking to someone. The someone was a woman.
    The voice of a young girl joined them. He couldn’t understand the language, but she was speaking clearly. The chief’s daughter? It had to be!
    The Kachakas carrying Dr. Cooper eased their grip and set him on the ground. Many of them actually let go and backed off. When enough of their bodies were out of the way, he could finally see that the chief was talking to a lovely woman, most likely his wife, and . . . oh, praise God! The chief’s daughter! She was still wearing Lila’s droopy, billed cap, and she pointed at Dr. Cooper, rapidly explaining something to her father. He kept objecting and trying to argue, but apparently she would not change her opinion.
    Finally the chief straightened up, looked at Dr. Cooper with disappointment and embarrassment, and gave his men an order. They all let go of Dr. Cooper and gave him some space. One even returned his hat.
    â€œMy daughter says you did not attack her,” the chief admitted. “She says you . . .” He really hated to say it. “She says you saved her from a mukai-tochetin.”
    Dr. Cooper exhaled a sigh of relief. His shoulders relaxed as he returned the girl’s gaze. Her eyes were clear and beautiful. He could tell her mind and memory were intact.
    She must have learned her heavily accented English from her father. “Gracias, Señor American, for saving my life.”
    Dr. Cooper removed his newly returned hat to show his respect and gratitude. “You’re most welcome. And thank you for saving mine.” He stole a quick glance at the chief to make sure he was correct in saying that.
    The chief was reluctant, but finally nodded yes. “You are not mukai-tochetin. One mukai-tochetin would not fight another.” He put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “This is María. María, this is . . .”
    â€œDr. Jacob Cooper.” He took just a few steps toward the girl, reached into his shirt pocket, and brought out her small blowgun. “I believe this belongs to you.”
    She took one look at it and shook her head. “Oh no,” she said emphatically. “That is not mine.”
    Hmm. Interesting. Dr. Cooper played along. “Oh. Well, it must belong to one of the men here.” He tossed it to the nearest Kachaka warrior, who looked it over, shook his head, and then passed it to the next. It began circulating among the men in search of an owner. “But please, can you tell me if you’ve seen my daughter? She’s about your age and height, with fair skin and long, blond hair. She’s lost somewhere in