Curse of the Fountain -15- by Melanie Brown

“Don’t scream, bitch!” hissed a voice in my ear. I tried to wriggle away, but couldn’t.

“Clarry, hurry up,” said someone I couldn’t see.

“Don’t use my name, you idiot!” snarled whoever had their hand over my mouth.  He then yelped in pain as I bit his finger.

My head was bashed into the wall again. I felt another hand wrap around my neck. “Don’t scream if you know what’s good for you. Just tell me where it is!”  He released his hand from my mouth.

I was still pressed hard against the wall. I growled, “Tell you where what is?”

I was again pushed angrily against the wall. “You know damned well what, bitch!  The fountain!  The location of the fountain!” He tightened his grip around my throat.

Of course, I knew what he meant, but I gasped, “What are you talking about?  What fountain? You’re hurting me.”

He shoved his face next to mine.  He was wearing a mask so I couldn’t verify his identity aside from his voice. In my ear, he snarled, “The fountain! The fountain, dammit!” I recognized the voice as Clarence Foster.

I glared at Foster as much as I could. “You mean that nonsense my grandfather died in the jungle for?” Of course I was lying about being my own grandfather.

Holding me against the wall, he stepped back and studied me a moment. “I know it’s you, Forscher! You were down there! Look at you! You’re young. I know you found it!”

Mounting as much snark as I could muster with a hand around my throat, I managed a grin and said, “My grandfather wasn’t a girl.”

The other man said in a harsh whisper, “Boss, I told you that chick was a dead end. Let’s get…oof!” I heard a loud thump against the wall.  A moment later, a large white blur tackled Foster to the ground and a yelp. The white blur had been Jeff in his training uniform.

Released from Foster’s grip, I screamed, “Jeff!”

Jeff scrambled to his feet and looking as imposing as hell growled, “Keep your hands off my girl!”

“Security’s been called!” came a shout from the gym’s door.

“Boss! Let’s get the fuck out of here!” yelled the other man as he helped Foster to his feet.

“Okay, go! Go!” Foster and his henchman turned and stared to run.

Jeff started to bolt after them. I shouted, “Jeff! No. They might be armed.”

After running several feet in chase, Jeff stopped, then hurried over to me. He held my face in his hands. “Babe. Are you alright? Who were those guys?”

Resting my cheek against his and trying to catch my breath, I said, “Friends of my grandfather.”

Looking confused as he looked down the hall where Foster had taken off running, “Friends? What did that guy want?”

With a wry smile, I said, “The stuff dreams are made of.”  Okay, the fountain’s not a black statue of a bird, but when else am I going to get to say that line?

                    *

“You didn’t call the police?!” shouted Dad as I sat at the kitchen table between Mom and Bea.

Having cried after the shock of the attack had finally worn off, I wiped my nose and said, “Security did call the police. But I didn’t see their faces. I have no proof it was Foster who attacked me.”

“Calm down, honey,” suggested Mom to Dad.

Bea asked, “Who else would know about the fountain?”

I frowned at Bea. “Are you nuts? You think I’m going to mention that to the cops? And Jeff was there.”

Dad folded his arms and huffed, “You should have gone to the hospital.”

Taking a sip of water Mom had given me, I said, “The paramedics checked me out, Dad. And I feel fine. I just feel stupid.”

Mom rubbed my arm. “It’s not your fault, honey.”

Bea took a drink from her coffee cup. “We need to get down to Brazil, pronto.”

I looked sideways at my sister, I mean aunt, and shook my head. “The last thing I want to do is go back to that God-forsaken jungle.”

Bea pounded the kitchen table. “Neil, don’t be such a fucking idiot! It’s your find. The credit and reward should be yours!”

I frowned at Bea. “It’s Nell, and he hasn’t even left the country yet. He might guess wrong. I have looked at some ancient maps and primitive writings. Along with the research by Percy Fawcett, I had a damned good idea where the fountain was. Foster’s not that smart.”

Sounding frustrated, Bea said, “Nell, we don’t have to go down there. At least not right away. Show me where it is on a map, and I’ll have my land development team purchase the area.”

I chuckled. “You don’t think I didn’t consider that? Before Densie, what’s-his-name and I went down there, I had contacted the Brazilian government about buying that whole area. And I already told you. It’s sacred tribal land, and they won’t sell it.”

Dad cleared his throat and said, “The name you were trying to think of was me.”

I looked at Dad and said, “No. I was trying to think of the photographer.  Were you there?”

Mom said, “He fell off the cliff, remember honey?”

I looked up. “Oh yeah. That could have been a real disaster. You have any idea how expensive it is to get a medivac helo in that region?”

Dad grunted.

Bea scowled at me. “Everything’s for sale. You taught me that back in middle school.”

I laughed. “Honestly, I didn’t want to bribe too many officials until I knew it was really there. I didn’t expect this.” I pointed at myself.

Looking thoughtful, Bea asked, “Any idea about his finances?”

I frowned. “He has an uncle with more dough than either of us.”

Ginning, Bea asked, “Is he single?”

Frowning again, I asked, “Seriously?”

Bea shrugged. “Just askin’.”

                    *

“I don’t think you should go to school tomorrow.”

I looked up from the TV. “Dad. Foster is stupid, but not that stupid. I doubt he’ll try again.”

Tousling my hair, Dad stood next to me and said, “What if he is? Or what if there’s a third party on this treasure hunt? I don’t think we can take that chance.”

I shook my head. “What if? What if?  You can what if yourself to never getting out of bed. I really don’t think he’ll try again.”

Dad folded his arms.  “I’m not so sure, but I guess we’ll play it your way for now.”

I went back to watching TV. “I’m tellin’ ya. Foster is stupid.”

                    *

End of Part 15

The Curse of the Fountain

By

Melanie Brown

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