by David Wood
The top of Angel’s Landing was void of human life. They stood in the eerie silence, catching their breath from the last stretch of trail, which had required hanging on to heavy chains bolted into the stone in order to make the climb. There was no sign of Maddock, Jade, or the other men with whom the ranger had reported seeing her.
“If Jade put these clues in the proper order, we’re looking for something that resembles steps,” Amanda said, consulting her notepad. “I don’t see anything that looks like steps around here.”
“They must have found them.” Bones took in every detail of the top of Angel’s landing. “I’ll find them.”
“And how do you plan to do that?”
“I’m an Indian. I’m going to track them.” He had been a skilled tracker in his youth, and the knowledge had served him well during his military service.
“Right.” Amanda sounded skeptical. “You’re going to track on rock.”
“It’s not all rock,” he said. “Look over there.” He pointed to a small patch of dirt that had gathered in a low spot on the rock. “See that curved imprint on the left side? That’s the edge of a shoe. Whoever left it went that way.” He led her across the rock, pointing out an occasional scuff, a bent patch of dried grass, and even an occasional footprint, finally coming to a halt on the southeast edge of the cliff.
“End of the line,” Amanda patted him on the shoulder. “Sorry. You did a good job on the tracking.”
“Oh, it’s not a dead end,” he said, grinning broadly. Had they more time, he would have let the suspense build before explaining, but that was a luxury they did not have. “See this smooth patch here? Someone hung a rope over the edge and climbed down. Their weight, plus the rubbing of the rope smoothed out this patch. I’ll bet if we get a good look down below…” He lay down on his belly and hung as far over the edge as he dared. He immediately spotted what he was looking for. “There they are!”
“Seriously?” Amanda hauled him to his feet and threw herself into his arms, crushing him in a hug and almost sending them both tumbling over the edge. “You are amazing,” she whispered in his ear before giving it a playful bite. “Okay, Mr. Indian, this time you get to be the cavalry.”
They used a nylon rope he carried in his pack to reach the steps. Once they were down in the rocky cleft that hid the rough staircase from sight, they immediately spotted the tenth step where someone, obviously Jade and her companions, had uncovered what looked like a large, square stepping stone. Bones pried it up, revealing a tunnel down below.
“It looks like one of those playground slides,” he said, peering into the round, curving tunnel. “Should be fun. Got your gun ready?”
“Got it,” Amanda said. Bones had lent her his snub-nosed .22.
“Good. We’ll go down as quietly as we can. Keep your flashlight turned off for the time being. Whoever is ahead of us will have lights of their own. We want to see them before they see us.” He turned on his own flashlight and cupped his hand over the end, spreading his fingers just enough to allow a sliver of light to illumine their path.
He had been correct when he compared the tunnel to a playground slide. It was smooth and round, corkscrewing in a sharp, downward spiral. Gravity pulled him inexorably downward, and he had to use his heels as brakes. I hope my pants still have a seat when I get to the bottom, he thought as he skidded downward. Their dizzying spin through the darkness seemed to go on forever, but finally, without warning, the tunnel dumped them out into an open space. He grunted as Amanda tumbled onto him.
“Where…” Amanda began, but Bones clapped his hand over her mouth and whispered for her to remain quiet.
They lay there in the deathly black silence, ears straining to hear any sound that might indicate danger. The roaring of his own blood filled his ears, and the rapid tattoo of his heartbeat seemed so loud that he was certain it would bring the mountain down on top of them. After a minute, he relaxed and let go of Amanda. He stood and helped her climb to her feet. Playing his light around the room, he found that they were in a cavern about fifty paces across. Vaulted passageways stood to their right and directly across from them. The wall to their left was unnaturally smooth and regular. Amanda turned on her light and went over for a closer look.
“It’s some sort of plaster,” she whispered. “This must be how they brought the treasure in. Nothing of any size could have come in the way we did.” She turned away from the wall and consulted her notebook. “Okay, the next clue reads, “under the black stone at the western entrance.”
Bones consulted his Pathfinder watch, which included an altimeter, barometer, thermometer, and a digital compass. “We’re almost a thousand feet down. Still four-hundred feet above the canyon floor.” He switched the watch from altimeter to compass. “And the western passageway is over there.” He pointed to his right.
Directly in front of the passageway lay three paving stones similar in shape and size to the one through which they had accessed the tunnel: one gray, one reddish, and the third black. They raised the black stone to reveal a vertical shaft with handholds carved into the wall.
They descended another twenty-five feet and found themselves in a narrow tunnel with a squared-off roof. The ceiling was scarcely high enough to permit Bones to stand upright, and he had to resist the urge to duck as he walked. The pathway sloped down in a gentle incline. He kept moving his light back and forth, up and down, looking for any potential hazard.
“What are you doing?” Amanda asked in a soft voice. “That’s driving me crazy.”
“Looking for booby traps or falling rocks or whatever. I don’t know. I guess I read too many pulp novels as a kid.”
“What do you think would have happened if we had not known about the black stone and just gone down the tunnel?” she whispered.
“Hard to say. Might loop back around on itself, or maybe come to a dead end, or even something worse. The last time I was in a place like this…” He paused, forcing down the memories of what had happened then. “Never mind. Looks like we’re coming up on another chamber.”
This chamber was smaller than the previous one. Two massive caves, each flanked by ornate pillars hewn directly into the rock, gaped dark and forbidding directly in front of them.
“Okay,” Bones said. “These are the clues Jade doesn’t have. What’s the first one?”
“Above the pillar of the northern opening of the cave that has two entrances. Okaaay.”
“Both caves are set in the west wall of the chamber, so the northern opening would be the one to the left.” They shone their lights on the cave wall above the pillars that stood on either side of the northernmost cavern. “I see something,” Bones said. He had picked out a spot of deep blackness above the pillar to the left of the cave. Had he not been looking for it, his eyes would have passed right over it, dismissing it as nothing more than an irregularity in the rough stone. As he moved closer, he could make out a small shaft a few feet above the pillar. He began to search the wall for the best way to climb up when Amanda gasped and clutched his arm.
“Bones, look!” She pointed to the mouth of the cave. Thirty feet back, the passage was blocked by a pile of rubble. At the bottom of the pile of stone, her light shone on a human leg sticking out from beneath the mass of stone. “You don’t think…”
They moved cautiously forward, their lights sweeping across the ceiling, but it appeared solid. Reaching the scene of the cave-in, Bones knelt and touched what was obviously a man’s leg. It was cold. He hastily stripped off the man’s hiking boot and wool socks, and placed his fingers on the dorsalis pedis artery atop the foot for a pulse, but there was none.
“He’s dead,” he said, rising to his feet and inspecting the pile of rock. “It’s not Maddock. This dude’s foot is way too big.”
“Do you think they’re all buried under there?” Amanda whispered.
“No way of telling,” he said. “I don’t think it would be a good idea to try to move this rock. That is unless…” He left the rest uns
poken. Unless we find the treasure, but don’t find Maddock and the others. “Let’s just assume that one of the Dominion guys bit the big one. Score one for our side.”
Something stirred in the darkness. The creature did not see it. Generations of its kind living in complete darkness had rendered it and those like it blind. It did not smell it… yet. It did not hear it though its sense of hearing was easily its most acute. Rather, it felt something moving. The creature and its pack were one with these caverns, perfectly attuned to their environment. Not a stirring of dank air escaped their notice. And nothing moved in these halls of stones without alerting the pack with both the sounds and the vibrations that rang through the walls of stone. Yes, something was stirring.
The creature rose and moved down the tunnel toward the source of the vibration. Its stunted, muscular legs and low-slung, broad body slunk easily through crevasses that would deny passage to larger creatures. Its heavily padded feet made no sound on the cold stone, and it kept its razor claws retracted until it needed to climb… or to kill.
The source of the disturbance was closer now. The creature could discern sounds alien to its experience. Harsher than the tumbling of water through the underground river that snaked through its domain. Steadier than the staccato clacking of a rock fall. This sound was new and enticing. It followed the sound with a single-minded purpose until a cloying scent assaulted its nostrils. Yes!
The creature knew this smell. It had ventured outside the caverns only one time in its life. It had run down and devoured a small, soft thing that had squealed as the creature’s powerful jaws snapped its back. The warm blood, so unlike the cold, slick things of the river that were the staple of the pack’s diet. Yes, this was a warm blood smell.
The creature sent out a call to the pack. There were no words, nor were there sounds. There was simply a shared understanding among the creatures of the pack. The message was simple.
We hunt.
Chapter 25
A lukewarm dampness pressed down on Maddock’s face. He grabbed at it as he sat up, and his hand came away clutching a sodden, green dish towel. Where was he? He quickly took in his surroundings. Faded curtains permitted a hazy glow to fill the small room, revealing twisted covers and a moldy pillow on the small bed upon which he sat. Above him, a water-stained ceiling drooped like a low-hanging storm cloud, and below him threadbare carpet of burnt orange failed to entirely cover the cheap subfloor. The walls were covered in murky gray-brown paneling and were plastered with sketches. He was no art expert, but dating Kaylin Maxwell, a professional painter, he had enough familiarity that he could tell that this artist, whoever he or she was, was a talented amateur. Maddock recognized the peak of Angel’s Landing from a picture Jade had printed out. There were other landscapes done in pencil or crayon, and all were pleasing to the eye. Others, however, were more sinister. Dark caverns filled with grotesque figures were rendered in broad, heavy lines of crayon. Something was chained over a river. And most disturbing of all were the shadowy renderings of a fanged creature with dead, black eyes, and glistening claws. The beast was always drawn in a night scene, and never in complete detail, which made it seem all the more malevolent.
A sliver of light appeared in the wall as a door opened. He tensed as a figure appeared in the doorway, the brighter light outside the door bathing its features in shadow.
“Wake?” A slurred voice asked. “Wake?” There was no malice in the odd voice. The figure stepped into the room, and the dim light from the window fell upon the most hideously deformed person Maddock had ever met. He was a young man, perhaps about twenty years old though it was difficult to tell. His right leg was six inches shorter than the left, emaciated, and was twisted so that his left foot was pointed to the side. His right arm was also noticeably shorter than his left though both were heavily muscled. It was his face that was the most disfigured. His right eye was tiny and beady, and the left bulged so far out of its socket that it looked like it would pop out if someone were to clap the young man on the back. His nose was not fully grown, giving it a pig-like appearance. His lips curled back in a permanent smile, revealing a few twisted teeth. His patchy, brown hair was long and fine, and seemed to float behind him whenever he moved his head. Despite his horrific appearance, though, there was somehow an air of gentle kindness about him.
“Yes, I’m awake,” Maddock said.
“Dink!” The young man thrust a glass of water into Maddock’s hands, sloshing half of it onto his lap. “Dink mo.”
Maddock was parched, and he gulped it down. It was lukewarm and had a coppery taste, but he did not care. He finished it and was brought another, which he forced himself to drink more slowly.
“I guess you saved me out in the desert,” he finally said to his Good Samaritan, who had sat down on the floor and was staring happily at him.
“Eah!” He nodded vigorously. “Eah!”
Maddock was torn between the urge to get back to looking for Jade, and the sympathy and gratitude he felt for the youth. In any event, he needed to figure out exactly where he was, and how to get to Angel’s Landing from here. That was it!
“Did you draw these pictures?” he asked.
“Eah! Daw.” The young man climbed unsteadily to his feet and pointing to various pictures and talking rapidly. Maddock could understand very little of what he was saying. When he indicated the pictures of the creature, he said something like “Choo. Choo.” It didn’t look like any choo-choo Maddock had ever seen.
“Is that place close by?” Maddock pointed to the picture of Angel’s Landing.
“Eah.” A noncommittal shrug.
“Have you been there?”
“Eah!” This time the young man seemed very excited. “Eh dah, eh dah, eh dah.” He pointed to the cavern sketches. “You see.” He dropped to the floor, reached underneath the bed, and pulled out a shoebox, which he opened with great care. He took out a handful of smooth pebbles and handed them to Maddock. “Got dah.” He indicated a sketch of what looked like a twisting river running through a dark cavern.
“You found these in that cave?” His question was answered by a vigorous nod. He needed to connect with this young man if only to learn the way to Angel’s Landing. He made a show of admiring the smooth stones, turning them over in his hand and rubbing them between his fingertips. But he did not have to feign interest in the next object that came out of the box.
The young man dropped a golden ingot into Maddock’s palm. Maddock was no Egyptologist, but as a marine archaeologist, he had enough knowledge of Egyptian artifacts that he easily identified its origin and could tell that it was very, very old.
“Where did you get this?” he whispered.
“Dah.” Again, the same picture.
“Is this a cavern and an underground river?” He stood and walked over to the picture.
“Eah!”
“And you’ve been inside it, and it’s where you found this?” He held up the ingot.
“Eah. Eh dah, eh dah, eh dah.” The boy stood and this time poked each cave drawing with his index finger. He held the open box right in front of Maddock’s face. “Fi dese too!”
Maddock gasped. Among the collection of native rocks lay a golden ankh, several scarabs of various sizes, a few amulets, and some beads.
“Can you show me where you found these?” Maddock whispered.
“Eah!” He dropped the box, its contents scattering across the floor and bolted out the door. Concerned that he might be left behind, Maddock hurried out behind him.
The young man was standing in a small, dark living room babbling to an elderly woman who sat in a wheelchair with a blanket draped across her lap. She turned to Maddock and greeted him with a toothless smile. Beneath the blanket, her twisted legs came well short of the floor. Other than this deformity, she seemed to have escaped the young man’s misfortune.
“I see you’re awake,” she wheezed. “Justin brought you back from the desert. Put you in his bed and kept damp cloths on you. He’s a good boy
.”
“He is,” Maddock said. “I thank you both for your help. What can I do to repay you?”
“Nothing,” the woman said in her coarse, faint voice. “I taught him to do right by others, but we don’t see many others out here. We mostly like it that way. Our family’s lived here for generations, but there’s nobody left but me and my grandson. We sure don’t see many people out walking in the desert without any water. What were you thinking?”
“It’s a long story and it wouldn’t make much sense if I told you,” he said. “Ma’am, would you happen to have a phone I could use?”
“Afraid not,” she said. “And them fancy cell phones don’t do no good out here either.”
“Can you tell me if we’re anywhere near Angel’s Landing?”
“The Land of Zion?” she croaked. “You’re heaven-bound, are you? We’re not too awful far, but I think Justin wants to take you somewhere.”
“Eah!” Justin said, taking Maddock by the hand and leading him to the front door of the house.
“You boys be careful,” she said as they stepped out into the blistering sun.
Justin led him through a twisting dry wash, up a rocky hill, and through snarls of cactus and gnarled pine, and down into a tiny box canyon surrounded by steep walls of red rock. At the far end of the canyon abutting a sheer cliff a small pool lay hidden behind a screen of juniper and sagebrush
“Eah,” Justin said, pointing down into the water. “Go dah.” He made a diving motion with his right hand, dipping it down and bringing it back up. “Sim.”
Swim under there. Maddock was growing accustomed to Justin’s manner of speaking. He thought it over. Could this possibly be a way to the treasure? If they were close to Angel’s Landing, who was to say Justin had not happened upon the treasure, or at least a small portion of it that had been carried away by the underground stream. In any case, there was no harm in checking it out.
