“So, the ancient ones built the tunnel directly from the Pyramid of the Moon to the under-world, son.”
“Don’t wanna go there, Daddy.” The five-year-old pulled back on his hand, but the man strode on.
The minimal light faded, then they left the passageway. Roland shielded his eyes as a blinding flash illuminated the night.
Indiana Jones pulled the boy away from the road. “Mind the cars, son. Look there’s McDonalds. Do you wanna Big Mac and fries?