CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

September 29, 2:00 P.M.

Navajo Nation, Arizona

BY THE TIME Cash and Ian reached Olivia and Benny, the argument going on between Pete and Diane faded to a faint din, though Cash had no doubt the battled still raged on in full force. Even when she used to make snide remarks about Olivia’s life choices, Cash could hear the love in her voice, so her instant defense of her sister didn’t surprise him in the least.

Benny looked up as the two men approached, worry etched across his weathered face. “I think we found the opening. The ancient legend speaks of some trick to entering the cavern. I seem to recall the tunnel doesn’t venture back too far, but the small space is reportedly wrought with perils. Since I never dreamed of going in, I admit I didn’t pay a lot of attention to what those might be.”

“Are you positive this is it? This hole looks more like a snake pit than a repository for treasure,” Cash stated as he eyed the overgrown opening no bigger than the circumference of a fifty-five gallon drum.

“I’m as sure as I can be until someone goes inside and investigates.”

Cash pulled out his knife and began clearing the scrubby brush away from the entrance. He crouched in front of the opening, shining his light into the narrow passageway, cutting through the blackness.

“About twenty-five feet in, the tunnel makes an abrupt turn to the right and that’s all the further I can see from here.”

Benny nudged Cash aside and knelt in front of the dark hole holding his straw cowboy hat filled with baseball-sized rocks. He tossed a stone a couple of feet from the openingnothing happened. He repeated the process, tossing each rock a little further than the one before. Halfway to the bend in the tunnel, one broke through the surface. They listened closely, but never heard the stone hit bottom.

“That’s the first trap you have to avoid. Once you pass the corner, you’re on your own. I doubt this is the last hazard,” Benny stated, looking up at Cash.

“You all just assume I’m going in?”

“I’d go if we were in the U.K., but this is your turf, so I don’t want to step on any toes,” Ian replied with a wide grin and a slap on Cash’s back.

“Mighty considerate of you. I hope I have the chance to return the favor someday.” Cash removed his hat and handed it to Olivia.

He hated seeing the worry in her eyes. This was his job, and he felt certain he had tackled much worse in his career and would again, but he doubted that fact would ease her concern. Worst case scenario, the cavern held a few snakes and booby traps. In his experience, nature and the non-human world offered up little beyond his ability to control. People, on the other hand, who preferred a life of evil, were another story.

Cash crawled toward the entrance, hesitated for a moment, and then backed out into the sunlight. He hadn’t seen anything specific to set his hackles up, but something, maybe Olivia’s warm smile and worried expression, made him want to exercise more than his usual amount of caution.

“Call to Pete and Diane and have one of them bring the rope.”

Before long, the sounds of his two colleagues scrambling up the hill, making no attempt at stealth, reached his ears. Cash hoped Marabout and his bald buddy turned around or lagged far behind, since anyone within several miles would hear the rocks tumbling and bickering going on as they made their way toward the group.

Cash tied the thin, long rope around his waist and handed the other end to Ian.

“Secure this in case I fall into a pit. Hopefully, we’ve got plenty of rope to get me far enough into the cavern to check it out, but not enough where I hit the bottom before the slack runs out. Try to keep everyone quiet and alert in case our friends are still tailing us. I hope they gave up after losing their transportation, but you never know with Zara’s bunch. Those loyal to her often prefer death to failure, and by the looks of the big guy, he could probably move about as fast as our mules and equal their endurance.”

Cash secured his headlamp, grasped a stick, and shimmied into the narrow tunnel. When he reached the spot where Benny’s stone had fallen through the floor, he poked around until he determined the dimensions of the pit. The hole was too wide to clear without standing up and taking a running jump. The opening extended to about eight inches from each cavern wall. Cash rolled over onto his side, his back against the hard-packed dirt, stretched out his full body length and inched past the trap. A cool draft wafted out from the black hole, reminding him that only an ultra-thin rope and a narrow ledge separated him from life and a cold, dark death.

Once past the pit, he rolled back over onto his stomach, ear to the ground, and lay still for several moments until his pulse returned to normal. He progressed slowly until he reached the turn. Around the bend, he stood up, hunched over, and continued on. The cavern remained barely wide enough for his shoulders to scrape through and was blacker than a witch’s cat, except for the narrow path illuminated by his headlamp. He doubted a snake would venture further than the corner and into total darkness, which was some relief, but the fact that he had no idea what lay ahead wasn’t too comforting

The first part of the cavern looked natural, but the walls past the sharp turn held tell-tale markings of human implements scouring the earth. He hoped the effort to dig out the tunnel with the basic tools of earlier times would ensure the route wouldn’t go back too far. Each time he moved his feet, he tested the ground before putting his full weight down and scanned the area in front, around, and overhead with his light, making his progress exceptionally slow.

Cash had lost track of the distance he’d traveled when his foot detected hollow ground. Inching forward on hands and knees, he felt his way with his palms until he came to the edge of the obstacle. He brushed away a thin layer of dirt and removed the single covering of dry timber. Directing the light downward, he could see the bottom of the hole. It was only about ten feet deep, but pointed spikes carved of wood stood up from the floor.

The low tech trap drew a smile to his lips. Adventure movies made people think ancient ones booby-trapped their treasures with sliding fake floors and swinging pendulums of deadly sharp blades and powerful curses, while in Cash’s opinion, this level of technology was more common and in keeping with the resources and knowledge available at the time.

He backed up several steps, and with a running start, he easily cleared the pit. Just past the last hazard, the tunnel came to a dead end. He scoured the rough surface of the earthen walls with his fingers and scanned the tiny chamber with his light, looking for any clue as to the tunnels purpose or its hidden secrets.

“Either Benny is wrong and this isn’t the place, or a crystal is buried in here somewhere,” he mumbled as he continued to search the small area.

As he stood up to stretch the ache in his lower back, his head bumped the low ceiling and dirt showered down on him. He retreated several steps and flashed his light across the offending area. Pulling out his knife, he chipped away at the loose soil until he exposed half a dozen chunks of old, dry wood wedged into more solid earth and parallel to each other, creating a grate. Something rested on top of the platform, wrapped in a dusty, cracked, leather bundle.

“Benny, I think you did it.”

He grabbed one of the old timbers and shook it. More dirt rained down on his head as he wiggled the chunk of wood. He assumed little effort would be needed in order to work the timbers out to retrieve the bundle, but he feared removing the supports could undermine the integrity of the cavern’s ceiling. Cash yanked a little harder and more dirt and debris pelted him.

A smart and cautious man would backtrack out of the cavern and return with help and materials to shore up the ceiling before removing the parcel, but patience was not one of his virtues, and he had never been accused of being the careful sort. One hard yank and the bundle would fall, but the motion might bring the whole cavern down upon him. Whether it was just weak with age and rotted timbers, or intentionally unstable as a last hope of protecting the sacred relic, it didn’t really matter. Bottom line, Cash possessed no desire to be buried alive.

Visualizing the concern etched on Olivia’s face, he decided to play it safe for once in his life. He took one step away from the dead end, but halted as a barrage of noise penetrated the cave. Despite the distortion of the earthen walls, Cash recognized the sound of automatic gun fire, and his team hadn’t brought those types of weapons on this excursion.

Cash yanked the closest timber and caught the bundle as it fell. The ceiling groaned and rocks dislodged in a hail storm as he ran toward the first pit. He cleared the hole with room to spare, landed on his feet and kept running, hunched over. The sound of gunfire grew louder as he neared the sharp turn in the tunnel.

As soon as he rounded the corner, he was forced to lie down and shimmy forward. He pulled himself along the ground with one arm while holding his prize tight to his side with the other. He scooted past the second pit and slowed as he reached the exit. He set the bundle down, planning to retrieve it once he neutralized the threat. At the moment, he needed his hand on his gun more than the rotted leather wrap.

He was in a vulnerable position. If he just stuck his head out, it could very well get shot off, but he had to do something. Inching closer to the mouth of the cavern, the gunfire stopped, leaving an eerie quiet. He strained to hear sounds to clue him in on the situation, but silence ruled.

Suddenly the slack went out of the forgotten rope tied around his waist, tightening, forcing all the air out of his lungs, propelling him into motion. The momentum yanked him out into the daylight in a blur, dislodging his gun somewhere in the process. The speed in which he was being drug up the steep hill, across the rocks, brush, and cacti on his belly grew with each painful moment. Cash struggled to retrieve the knife from its sheath at his side, but found accomplishing the task impossible as his body bounced over the rough terrain with the rope cutting into his skin.

He abandoned all attempts to reach his blade and covered his head with his arms as he sped toward a sturdy shrub. Branches snapped and flew through the air as he scraped over the bush. Blood ran down his hands and forearms, but at least he successfully protected his skull. Fumbling, Cash finally managed to free his knife. He sawed frantically at the taut rope, realizing the mule pulling him was running full out for the lip of another steep gorge.

The ultra-strong high-tech filament line gave way, and his body skidded to an abrupt halt. He glanced up in time to see the mule disappear over the ledge, dust and rocks flying up behind frantic hooves as the terrified animal fled the danger.