Chapter Thirty Three

“We’ve found something!”

Mike fought the urge to correct Louise’s self-inclusion. She was now very much part of the “we”, a part of her that would remain with the Hmong long after she left Laos. He wondered if she could now ever return to Portishead, at least to be happy there.

Before Louise’s proclamation Mike was aware something was up. Part of it was the change in mood, a shift in urgency as the human boulder-clearing chain came to an expectant halt. Excited exchanges were taking place close to the cave entrance, the dark mouth opening wide enough to invite those nearest to take a step closer and drop down into the welcoming abyss.

As focus shifted to the excited buzz around the cave, Mike took time to step back, searching for his tobacco as he did so. He knew any find would rapidly spread its way down to where he stood. Though most of the language appeared alien he could begin to understand its rhythms, including some of the emphasis on syllables. He would know soon enough what lay uncovered behind the boulders; any sign of the Pha Bang or its resting place would quickly be conveyed to all within earshot. He still felt that any communist revolutionaries hiding a national treasure all those years ago would surely have taken some time to inter it with a degree of cunning and imagination, if not at least lock it behind thick steel. His current concerns lay not back in seventies folklore, but in the here and now. Whilst all others pushed forward with bubbling anticipation for what might come out from the cave, Mike found a patch of grass and sat down to contemplate over a hastily rolled cigarette. The act forced him to take time out and think.

Though not a natural worrier, Mike held growing concerns over where Rusty and the other traveller, John, might be. With all the action grabbing the headlines further up the gully, few appeared to notice that they were still one truck down. It could easily be a case that the old motor had given out on the rutted track, backfiring in its final death throes. This could easily explain the shot he had heard earlier. There again, other reasons could be the cause for their delay, none of them quite so easy on his mind. If bad luck were forecast for you this year, he imagined the plains were the place to invite it. The place possessed a soul, an evil one. He took some comfort in the fact the remainder of the party looked to be untroubled, or perhaps unaware. He took a purposeful drag, thinking how long he should give it before raising any alarms. The nicotine fused with his anxiety, pumping his brain into an unwelcome cyclone, rationalising all the worst outcomes. He bit his lip as he worried about what to do next. His quest to find Louise now over, he could do without any added excitement such as presiding over any further missing person investigation. Once they pulled away from this hair-raising debacle they would have the small matter of finding what happened to Jean since the hellish bus-hijacking episode. Mike reasoned she was safely tucked up in a Vientiane bar singing bad karaoke to passing gap-year students. She was probably getting bored, wondering where everyone else had got to. He allowed a brief feeling of hope to keep that image alive.

A chorus of excited voices brought his attention back to the cave. Something was definitely being uncovered, enough to get everybody shouting. More out of necessity for something to do rather than feeling part of it, Mike moved forward to see what it was. There seemed to be a lot of chaos around the excitable crowd furthest up the gulley. Feedback was coming from those nearer the cave mouth, a human chain of excited whispering, but only enough to create more confusion.

Louise was again by his side, though pushing towards the front for different reasons than Mike had for moving forward. Much like a cheer-girl, her enthusiasm was proving infectious to those around her, motivating them to crowd around and soak up any news coming from the cave. Mike thought of asking her where the others might have got to, thinking twice when he saw her attention elsewhere. Instead he looked around for Dan. His search was cut short when he noticed Pin emerge at the top of the gully, close to where the cave mouth was being expanded by a gang of volunteer navvies.

Mike half-expected the Hmong leader to throw his arms in the air in a ministerial proclamation. Instead he scrambled down the screed in an awkward crablike style, anxious not to lose his footing and flounder this close to his life’s achievement; leading his troop of Hmong out of isolation. Mike had to remember that this wasn’t a treasure hunt, or exclusively a spiritual quest for the Hmong. They wanted this to buy their way out of the Laotian jungle, to buy tickets to Thailand or to further-flung Hmong communities in the USA.

As word spread, Louise found Mike’s ear. In the excitement her West Country rolling ‘r’s began to purr like a secretive cat hidden from view.

“There was nothing in the immediate cavern, though there is a promising sign. A smoother chiselled block of granite looks to be sealing a cavity, perhaps even a further tunnel. There is wax sealing around the border, marking it more as a tomb, with luck the last resting place for the Pha Bang. Pin almost missed it - the communist plunderers had obviously been careful to disguise their handy work. It’s starting to look promising.”

Mike was beginning to agree. Perhaps Dan was right, the Pha Bang could be found. Any signs of human engineering, a cold chisel against a granite rock, linked the cavern in with a secret history. Someone put a lot of work in for a reason. The fact that wax was still sealing the chiselled rock suggested they were the first amateur archaeologists to search the cave since it was ceremoniously sealed up.

Louise was again reaching for his ear. She was whispering excitably, unaware that any notion of secrecy was lost in their current isolation.

“He’s going to try another route in,” she said. “I think a group of them are hoping to search for a back entrance up behind the gully. It might make things easier for us. There is always the fear that using force to move the concealing rock could damage any priceless objet d’art resting the other side. Even our extensively jewelled Pha Bang would not take too kindly to a sealed granite door falling in on its unprotected head!”

Mike absently glanced up, watching Pin take a couple of Hmong back up the screed slide with him. He looked so much more elegant as he bypassed the cave and continued a hike over the ridge, a determined climb without the indignity of losing a foothold as on his more precarious descent. Halfway up he turned to beckon Dan to follow. The Canadian quickly caught up, sporting a khaki shirt that made him look more like an archaeologist than a rogue pilot. Mike watched them as they disappeared over the ridge, wondering what they might find the other side of the toothed summit.

Looking back, he saw Louise moving towards the cave and realised that his opportunity to raise his concerns over Jean and Rusty was now gone. Anxious to relieve his unease, he made his way back to where the old track ran out into the first loose rocks. From here he hoped to catch a glimpse of any movement further down the road. He reasoned that if he were first to spot his friends it might soothe his fraught nerves and rekindle his interest in dusting off the Pha Bang if they got to de-crate it. Given his surroundings, it looked the best location to sit and wind down. He figured he could give it a few more minutes before running into the cave to grab attention.

On reflection later, he was unsure when the shooting started. He saw movement, perhaps a man, up above on the slopes. Loud gunfire accompanied his vision. The silence of the gully exploded, allowing Mike no time to shut out the noise and cower for cover.