Chapter 53

Annie’s heart was pounding so hard that she could hear it in her ears and she wondered if the lumbering DeeAnn could. Evidently not. She pushed on through the brush and the weeds, with a fit Sheila right behind her. The moon was shining brightly, and they could see their way through the shadows of the trees and rocks, saving their flashlight batteries in case.

The rock path snaked ahead of them at a steeper grade. An owl screeched into the night, and Annie jumped at the sound of thrashing leaves. She grabbed on to Sheila, who was right in front of her on the narrow path.

DeeAnn turned and looked at her. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “Just an owl.”

Annie swallowed hard. Just an owl. Okay.

“The caves are not much farther,” DeeAnn whispered. “Just up around that hillside. Can you see it? I tell you, the cops don’t know their way around up here.”

“Yes,” Annie said, looking up and suddenly feeling off balance, though she kept going. Her feet tangled beneath her, and she fell on her knees, narrowly missing Sheila as she plummeted to the rocky ground. “Damn,” she whispered. “Ow!” She sat on her behind.

“Annie, are you okay?” Sheila said.

“I took a bit of a fall,” she said. Her jeans were torn, and her knees were stinging and bleeding.

“Can you get up?” DeeAnn asked and leaned over to help her stand.

“Oh yes, I’ll be fine,” Annie said, but she struggled to stand and, man, it hurt to walk. She’d just have to take it a little slower.

“Shh!” DeeAnn suddenly said, crouching down. “I hear voices.”

She pulled Annie and Sheila behind a large boulder.

The only thing Annie could hear was animal sounds—the owl again, night birds—and she thought she smelled something like smoke. Was it smoke?

DeeAnn still held her finger up to her mouth. Sheila looked at Annie, wide-eyed, wild haired.

First, Annie heard the soft thump of a foot on the ground, then the definite rattling of rocks sliding around underfoot, then the voices. Definitely male. Definitely coming closer. From the same direction in which they were heading. The hair on the back of Annie’s neck stood at attention. Maybe Annie’s clumsiness and aching knees had saved the day. Maybe. But these men, now just visible, coming down the hillside, dark figures outlined in the simple lines of Mennonite hats and coats, were heading straight for the van if they kept on the same path. Shit. Now what?

The men stopped a few feet from the boulder.

“I can’t believe how well the calcite boulders are working,” one man said. “I mean, you hear about these theories, but to see it working like that? Unbelievable.”

“I just wish we could’ve gotten this side of the caves done before all the sacrifices were made and the law came up here. I hated that we had to do that.”

Sacrifices? Did Annie hear that right?

She looked at DeeAnn’s wide eyes, noting that the rest of her face was wrapped in a green wool scarf, her eyebrows lifted, holding back panic. The men were heading down the path. They didn’t speak as they went by the women crouched behind the boulder. Annie didn’t breathe. DeeAnn didn’t move. Sheila was biting her lip. It was as if time stood still. Each of them was thinking the worst and afraid to make a move.

DeeAnn whispered, “They are definitely not cops.”

“No,” Sheila said.

Annie had tried to get a good look at the men’s faces, but it was too dark—even with the moonlight so bright. The trees all cast long, menacing shadows, and the men were dressed in black, with hats on their heads. Too shadowy. It seemed like they were not far from where the police actually were. How could these men be so close and not be found by them? What were the calcite boulders they were talking about?

Annie turned and leaned back quietly on the boulder. Her knees were killing her.

“What are we going to do?” DeeAnn said.

Annie thought a moment. “We are going to have to follow them back down the hill. They are heading for the van. Who knows what they will do if they see Vera and Paige?”

“If they can actually see,” Sheila said, pointing to the clouds moving across the moon. A gentle breeze was circling and shaking the leaves on the trees. Leaves scattered around them.

DeeAnn stood up and offered Annie her hand. “Let’s go,” she said, pulling Annie to her feet.

Annie marveled at DeeAnn’s strength. Bakers and their arm strength, Annie mused.

Sheila was already up, with her hands on her hips.

They walked as slowly and as carefully as they could, mindful of the noise level. The wind blowing around leaves helped. Annie tightened her scarf around her neck and buttoned her hood for more warmth. Was it getting colder, or hadn’t she noticed the mountain chill before?

Annie had learned a few tricks over the years to keep her mind calm and cool and thus prevent herself from panicking. She took some deep breaths and looked around. So many of the trees had already shed their leaves that twisted branches were all that she could see as she headed down the path. Such interesting shapes, too. A nearly perfect five-pointed star. A pointy witch’s hat. The outline of a bird.

All of a sudden, DeeAnn’s arm snapped in front of Annie as she heard a loud sound, like a rocket or a single firework, and something stung her and rippled through her back. Sheila flew off to the side of the path and into a bush as Annie’s body lurched forward onto DeeAnn, who cast her off like she was nothing more than a kitten. Annie, lying facedown in the dirt, waves of searing pain moving through her back, tried to lift her head but could twist it only far enough to see, through blurring, heavy eyes, DeeAnn knocking someone to the ground. What was going on?

Don’t pass out, Annie told herself. Don’t pass out. You need to write about this.