Chapter Seventeen

Dunlap sat alone, already missing Bigsby’s company. The storage tent was overstuffed with statues and figurines. Their dead eyes seemed to stare right at Dunlap. He tried to ignore them. Instead he flipped through an issue of Stolen Sweets. The magazine had a nude blonde on the cover, sitting on a rock, shielding her privates. One nipple was partially exposed. The sight of her made him long to be with a girl. His thoughts were interrupted suddenly by a noise at the far end of the tent.

A tearing sound.

Dunlap jerked in his seat. He dropped the nudie mag, drew his pistol, and stood. “Who’s there? Hello? Bigsby?”

When no one answered, he weaved through the crowd of statues, shining his torch into the gloom. “Quig, you better not be pulling a prank.”

The tent flapped wildly. A gust of sand hit his face. At the very back of the tent, the fabric had been split with a rent as tall as he was. “Bugger.”

Teddy Quig liked to spook him, but Dunlap didn’t think he’d go so far as to damage a tent. Must’ve been the wind. Gosswick and Trummel were going to be pissed.

Something rattled behind him.

Dunlap panned his lights over the statues. One rocked sideways and righted itself. He shone the light around it. Nothing moved.

Just past the relics, one of the expedition’s vehicles, a British Army flatbed lorry, was parked inside the tent. Something was making a racket on the other side of it.

“Quig, if that’s you, this ain’t funny. I’ve got my pistol drawn.”

Dunlap slowly started around the truck toward the rattling sound. Something crashed to the floor.

Christ! He walked along the driver’s side, his gun aimed nervously at the dark. He played the torchlight over the ground. The trunk where Trummel kept his most important relics was lying on its back, the wood badly scraped. Two of the drawers had been torn open, their contents strewn across the sandy floor.

Dunlap rushed to inspect it. Something sharp sliced the backs of his calves. He cried out in pain, discharging his pistol as he fell to the ground.

Under the truck something moved. A large body shrouded in darkness. Dunlap’s light passed over a face that made him scream. He tried to crawl away. Claws dug into his wounded legs and dragged him beneath the truck.