Mayan Tempest: The Crystals of Ahrum (The Maxwell Barnes Adventure Thriller Series Book 3) by Craig A. Hart & S.J. Varengo

Author:Craig A. Hart & S.J. Varengo [Hart, Craig A. & Varengo, S.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Northern Lake Publishing LLC
Published: 2023-03-30T16:00:00+00:00

Axel and Bembe sat in the largest hut of the village, which predictably belonged to Izamna. A young woman, who seemed to be Izamna’s wife despite being several decades younger, moved around the shelter, passing out what Axel assumed to be the tribe’s equivalent of an hors d’oeuvre. Having spent a lot of time in the jungle and other remote locations, Axel was not a complete stranger to exotic foods. But this particular delicacy appeared notably suspect. He was pretty sure they were grubs, having a pale yellow color with char marks along the sides where they had been roasted over an open flame.

Not wishing to insult the tribal leader, especially not on the cusp of having a real heart to heart discussion about their mission, Axel forced himself to take a sampling nibble. The exterior was mildly crisp, but once past that, it assumed a rubbery, spongy texture. It was not terrible, and tasted miles better than it looked, but the consistency was difficult to get past. As he chewed, spurts of hot juices filled his mouth, causing his submandibular glands to excrete. He looked over at Bembe and saw the little guy chomping happily and looking around hopefully for more. The woman saw the beseeching look and obliged, making another pass with the grub-laden platter. Still working on his first, Axel attempted to wave away seconds, but the woman persisted, and Axel caught a warning glance from Izamna.

“Why, of course,” Axel said, feigning gratitude. “I’d love another.”

“You will take two?” the woman said.

“No, I don’t—”

Izamna cleared his throat.

“Certainly!” Axel said, feeling the first roll of his stomach.

It’s either prolong the agony or just pop them in and swallow all at once, Axel thought.

Bembe was already scooting nearer the fire, a sure sign the conversation was about to commence, and so Axel decided on the latter plan. Taking both new hors d’oeuvres in one big paw, he stuffed them both into his mouth and gulped mightily.

The food refused to go down.

Axel closed his eyes, which were beginning to tear up, and wondered if there was some sort of Food God he could appeal to. He swallowed again, and a third time, but the food refused to be dispensed with unchewed. Girding metaphorical loins, Axel brought his mighty jaws together in three quick chomps. The explosion of unidentified fluids into his mouth caused stars of disgust to dance in his vision. He desperately wanted to gag, puke, get up and run from the hut, but he knew none of these were realistic options, given the delicacy of the current diplomatic situation. He chewed again—faster this time—and thought about Rosita. The image of his lover floated into his tortured mind, and oddly provided some manner of relief. True, he was exchanging one torture for another, but at least the thought of Rosita didn’t make him want to throw up all over Izamna’s lap.

It only made him want to cry.

“You okay there, man?” Bembe asked, grinning heartlessly.

“It’s just …” Axel choked out, “that I … don’t think I’ve ever eaten something so—”

“Delicious?” Bembe finished.

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