Revelation at Tikal | Literary Adventure Fiction Podcast

Cutty pays the bill for every bad choice he's made on the road to Palenque. As the last of the speed burns out of his system, Randy's grudge and Hernandez's talk of pilgrimage start to sink in—and Paula quietly decides how close she's willing to ride beside him. A thin wall, two separate motel rooms, and one simple question ("Promise me you're not going to kill us chasing your sister") push their fragile partnership to the edge. By morning, an empty bed convinces Cutty he's been left behind, and he kicks the BMW toward Tikal in a panic, chasing a jeep that may not even have Paula in it.

Cutty and Paula limp into the sweltering jungle town of Palenque looking for a barefoot "nun" who paints motel signs and answers to Floey. Instead, they walk straight into a wall of heat, mushroom‑eating pilgrims, and Randy—an old L.A. friend whose grudge may be more dangerous than any bad road. Over one long day, Cutty learns how far ahead his sister has already gone, who flew her into the jungle, and why the Maya sacbe she's walking isn't just a shortcut through the ruins but a kind of pilgrimage. By the time a local patriarch explains that some journeys matter more than whether you survive them, Cutty is realizing what the cost of this chase is. Please stand by for part two of this chapter next week

In Chapter 11 of Revelation at Tikal, Cutty decides that time is the enemy. Floey circled Palenque in her books. She might already be there. She might have found whatever she was looking for and moved on. So Cutty does what Cutty does best and worst: he tells himself a story that makes the reckless thing sound necessary. He takes a black beauty without telling Paula. What follows is an all-night speed run south through Mexico, fueled by amphetamines, gas-station food, Coca-Cola, and the desperate hope that he can close the distance between himself and his missing sister. The drug hits hard: the road slows down, the curves become almost beautiful, and Cutty's body stops complaining long enough for him to ride far past the point of common sense. Paula, riding behind him, slowly realizes something is wrong. They reach Mexico City after dark, cold, wet, and half-lost in a freeway system that seems to end without warning. A patient guard gives them directions south toward Córdoba, and Paula solves the mystery of semáforos before Cutty does. But the road ahead is worse than either of them knows. By dawn, they are in Córdoba. Cutty takes another pill in a filthy gas-station bathroom and keeps going. Paula asks the question he has been avoiding: what is he taking? His answer is half joke, half confession, and not nearly enough. The ride continues through bad roads, truck stops, strange diners, and the tropical wreckage of fatigue. In Minatitlán, Paula nearly falls asleep at the counter while Cutty orders food he cannot read from a Spanish menu. For a few quiet minutes, over steak, onions, peppers, and coffee made from hot milk and instant crystals, they almost feel like a couple with a future instead of two people outrunning consequences. Late that night, they finally reach Palenque. Outside town, they find two gringo motels facing each other across the road: Alicia's Looping and Motel Bonampak. Cutty chooses Bonampak because of a new hand-painted sign hanging out front. The letters look like Mayan glyphs. The background is a tangle of colored whorls. The paint is fresh. It looks like Floey. Cutty gets two rooms, as Paula requests, then rides the motorcycle up a plank and into his bungalow, because by this point nothing about the trip is normal. He tries to ask the night boy who painted the sign, but his Spanish fails him. Tomorrow, he tells himself, he will find someone bilingual and shake the place for answers. But sleep does not come easily. In the small motel room, with the BMW parked at the foot of the bed and Paula breathing somewhere through the wall, Cutty finally has to stop moving. His pulse is too fast. His body is too wired. His sister may be close, or already gone. And Paula, who has become more important to him than he knows how to admit, suddenly feels just as easy to lose. By the end of the chapter, Palenque is no longer just a place circled in Floey's books. It is the next threshold. In this episode Cutty secretly takes a black beauty before the ride south Paula begins to sense that something is wrong A wired, dangerous motorcycle run across Mexico Rain, cold, bad roads, and a confusing Mexico City freeway The mystery of semáforos A dawn gas stop in Córdoba and Cutty's second pill Paula confronting Cutty about what he is taking A strange highway diner in Minatitlán Truck-stop food, improvised coffee, and exhausted tenderness Arrival in Palenque after a brutal ride A fresh Bonampak motel sign that may have been painted by Floey Cutty parking the BMW inside his motel room A sleepless night between Paula, Floey, and fear Why this chapter matters This chapter pushes Cutty's search for Floey into more dangerous territory. He is not just riding hard now. He is chemically forcing himself forward and lying to Paula by omission. The chapter also deepens the emotional triangle that will shape the story from here: Floey ahead of him, Paula beside him, and Cutty caught between his need to save his sister and his fear of losing the woman who has chosen to ride with him. Palenque becomes the first place where Floey's presence feels physically close. The motel sign may be her work, and that possibility changes everything. Cutty is no longer following only rumor. He may finally be standing where his sister has just been. If you're enjoying the story Follow Revelation at Tikal so you don't miss the next chapter. Leave a rating or short review. It helps other listeners find the story. Visit cuttybraughn.com for more material from the road to Tikal and beyond.

In this chapter of Revelation at Tikal, the road finally eases up—at least for a while. Cutty and Paula roll into a funky beach shack outside Mazatlán, where "Mi Restaurante" serves fish baked in a stone stove, Mexican Coke in sweating glass bottles, and attitude from a green parrot that refuses crackers. A simple meal turns into a kind of truce: between sore bodies, bad Spanish, and a mission that keeps pushing them south, they let themselves enjoy being exactly where they are. At Campo del Sol, a half‑forgotten trailer park on the sand, they pitch a tent among aging RVs and stray dogs. A swim in the Pacific turns into something more—Paula finally lets her hair down, literally and emotionally, and an impulsive decision in a shared sleeping bag changes what this trip means for both of them. Meanwhile, Cutty can't stop thinking about the miles ahead. With Palenque and Tikal still far down the map, he teams up with a local surfer kid, Guillermo, to find something stronger than coffee to keep him awake on the night rides. A Christmas‑eve visit to a Mazatlán farmacia ends with legal "go‑juice" in his pocket and a new layer of risk under the romance. By the time the sun sets on Mazatlán, Cutty and Paula are tangled up in each other, in the town, and in the quiet dread of what comes next. The road is calling, and so are the ruins—and nothing in this chapter stays simple for long. In this episode: Beach‑shack fish, Mexican Coke, and a parrot with opinions Why Paula is too sore to sit—and why she doesn't want to leave Body‑surfing lessons, near‑drownings, and surfer‑kid Guillermo A Christmas‑eve glimpse of Mexican family life and piñata rituals Legal speed from a corner farmacia and what it says about Cutty The first night in the tent when things finally cross the line If you're enjoying the story: Follow the Revelation at Tikal podcast so you don't miss the next chapter. Leave a rating or short review—tell other listeners where you'd camp out if you were on this road. Visit cuttybraughn.com to learn more about the trilogy.

After the play and a long drinking session with the actors, Cutty and Paula wake up in Rocinante at Dr. Summers' place feeling the price of the night before. Cutty's head is trying to leave through the ceiling, his stomach has become a tilting disk at the bottom of a lake, and the only sensible rule is simple: move slowly, and do not anger the physics. But even hungover, he reaches for his journal. The dream he writes down is too vivid to ignore: a flying sailing ship, a huge crew, an endless supply of Cutty Sark whiskey running dry, and a mysterious destination somewhere south. Paula, barely awake, sees the meaning before he does. Cutty is the Cutty Sark. His own nickname, his own history, and his own uneasiness about drinking are all tangled up in the dream. For Cutty, it is one more example of something obvious sitting right in front of him that he somehow failed to see. Then the chapter shifts from hangover logic to road logic. Cutty starts breaking down the life he has been living out of Rocinante and repacking it for the motorcycle: foam pad, sleeping bag, Svea stove, cookset, tent, traveler's checks, vaccination papers, passport, spare clothes, notebooks, tools, and all the small items that separate an adventure from a disaster. Every object has to justify its place. The BMW has limited room, and Mexico is waiting. Paula comes out of the shower, still game for the trip, and begins helping him carry food and gear to the bike. Cutty gives her one more chance to back out. She refuses. She is going south with him. By the end of the chapter, Rocinante's keys have been handed over, Paula has squeezed herself into Cutty's spare yellow Bell Star helmet, and the two of them are finally on the BMW together. Her hands settle lightly at his waist, tentative and uncertain, as Cutty starts the engine and points them south. The road has become real now. The trip is no longer an idea, a plan, or a drunken promise. It is two people, one overloaded motorcycle, and a direction. South. In this episode A brutal hangover after drinking with the actors Cutty's strange flying-ship dream and the Cutty Sark revelation Paula's discomfort with the idea of Cutty as a drinker Packing Rocinante's contents onto the BMW Foam pads, Svea stoves, notebooks, socks, passports, and road-trip triage Paula deciding, again, that she is not backing out One last goodbye to Dr. Summers The yellow Bell Star helmet and the reality of riding passenger Cutty and Paula finally pointing the bike south toward Mexico Why this chapter matters This chapter is a hinge. Before this, Cutty and Paula still have a temporary base, a borrowed refuge, and the option of delay. By the end, that is gone. Rocinante stays behind, the motorcycle becomes home, and the road south becomes the only plan. The dream also matters. Cutty thinks it is about a ship, whiskey, and some mysterious destination, but Paula sees the personal meaning immediately. The dream is about him. About running dry. About being carried south by a machine he supposedly commands but does not fully understand. That tension follows him onto the bike. If you're enjoying the story Follow Revelation at Tikal so you don't miss the next chapter. Leave a rating or short review. It helps other listeners find the story. Visit cuttybraughn.com for more material from the road to Tikal and beyond as there are two more novels in this trilogy..