“The Natia,” Phoebe whispered. “We’re close.”
Lucy gazed nervously at the surrounding rain forest. “You don’t think they’re still here, do you?” she asked.
Mano frowned. “If they are, they’ve avoided notice for hundreds of years,” he said. “It’s difficult to believe no one has discovered this place, but if there are supernatural forces at work, maybe the Natia people are being protected by magic.” He knocked a rhythm on the trunk of the nearest tree. “They might not even know about the outside world. If they are here…”
“Let’s hope they’re friendly,” Shinji said.
“And that they don’t mind us hacking through their forest,” Roux added. “If spears start flying, I’m outta here.”
They ventured farther into the rain forest, following the path as it twisted and snaked through the undergrowth. It was eerily silent. Unlike the jungles of Mexico, where Shinji had found the Coatl, there were no monkeys howling in the trees, no distant cries of birds or other animals, no creatures slithering or scuttling through the brush. Everything was very green and lush, with occasional splashes of color from
flowers growing along the path. He did spot a few flashes of movement as small birds darted through the branches of the trees, but the island had the air of having been undisturbed since the beginning of time.
Even Phoebe seemed affected by the stillness. “This place is very peaceful,” she whispered, stepping lightly along the path. “Very quiet. But not a tense quiet. You know, when you say, ‘It’s quiet…tooquiet.’ Not that kind of quiet.” She paused a moment. “Quietis a funny word, by the way. If you say it enough times, it stops sounding real. Quiet. Quiet.”
“Quiet,” Oliver said.
“There, you see? It stops sounding like a real word.”
“No.” The ex-pirate stopped and glared back at her. “I meanbe quiet. There’s something up ahead.”
Everyone fell silent, and Mano turned, signaling Dr. Grant and her team to stop. They did, though Dr. Grant gave the captain a puzzled look as he stepped back to meet her.
“Ocean has found something,” Mano said. “Wait here; we’ll check it out.”
Cautiously, Shinji and the others crept forward, peering through the vines and undergrowth, until they came to the edge of a clearing. At the front, Oliver suddenly put out an arm, stopping them from going any farther. Beyond the trees, Shinji could see the thatched, domed roofs of several huts scattered around the sandy soil.
Lucy gasped. “A village,” she whispered. “Therearepeople here.”
“The lost culture,” Phoebe breathed. “We found it!” She let out a squeal of excitement that startled everyone, and bounced in place. “Oh, do you know how exciting this is? The Natia civilization! A hidden people, living on this island for who knows how long. What a discovery! We should go back and let everyone know—”
“Hold on,” Mano cautioned. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I think we should check this place out, make sure it’s safe, before we turn a bunch of scientists loose on it. We don’t know if the Natia are still living here.”
Oliver scanned the scattering of houses with narrowed eyes. “Looks pretty abandoned to me,” he said. “Still, everyone be careful. If therearepeople here, they might not take kindly to strangers tramping across their island.”
Carefully, they edged into the village. Oliver was right, Shinji thought, gazing around. The place did look pretty abandoned. Weeds and vines had taken over most of the houses, crawling up walls and poking through windows. Many of the thatched roofs had large chunks missing from them, or had simply blown off. When Shinji peeked inside one house, it was a mess of clutter, broken furniture, thatch that had fallen in from the roof, and weeds growing everywhere. Whoever had lived here was long gone.
“Nothing,” Lucy announced, ducking out of the hut beside him. “Just bird nests and a bunch of mouse poop.”
On her shoulder, Tinker gave a squeak, and she nodded. “Yes, Tinker, I agree. Robot mice are so much better than real mice. Does anyone have any hand sanitizer?”
“All the houses are empty,” Phoebe said, coming out from a hut across the path from Shinji. “I think Oliver is right; this village has been deserted. And yes, Lucy, I have hand sanitizer. Always be prepared; that’s my motto.”
“Let’s keep searching,” Oliver said. “Even if no one is here, I’d like to know what happened to this place, and where the villagersdidgo.”
They continued farther into the village, passing huts of all sizes in various stages of decay. Shinji saw more signs of life and people that used to exist here: fishing poles leaning against the corner of a house, tattered nets hanging out to dry, a canoe perched upside down on a pair of logs. A few chickens scurried through the village, but they were lean and wild-looking, very different from the plump white birds he was used to. Aside from the chickens, nothing moved or made a sound. A somber silence hung over everything, and the signs that this had been a thriving village once made it even more eerie.
A chill ran up Shinji’s back. He rubbed his arms to keep goose bumps from forming, looking around nervously. The village felt haunted now, like he was standing in a deserted hamlet full of ghosts and vengeful spirits. He had never really believed in ghosts, but he had never really believed in Coatls, krakens, dragons, and Storm Boars before, either.
Warily, he glanced at each of the houses, half expecting to see a figure in white staring at him from the doors or windows. There were no ghosts, of course, but his imagination continued to torment him.
A glint in the weeds suddenly caught Shinji’s attention. Frowning, he paused and crouched down to examine the strange glimmer, pulling aside clumps of long grass to see what lay beneath. A strange gray-green dome came into view as he pulled back the vegetation. It was a little smaller than a basketball and definitely didn’t belong in a place like this. Digging his fingers beneath the dome, Shinji found the edges and pulled the strange object free.
It was…a helmet, he realized. Not a baseball or football helmet, but definitely a helmet of some kind. It was old, and most of it was covered in rust, but it still had a rotting chin strap, and a greenish tint to the metal.
“Oliver,” he called, trotting to catch up with the ex-pirate. Oliver turned, raising his brows, as Shinji walked up to him with the rusty helmet. “I found something. Look at this.”
Oliver peered down at the object in his hands and frowned. “That’s a soldier’s helmet,” he stated. “World War Two if I had to guess. Where did you find it?”