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Maddock rose early the following morning and went out for a jog in the cool dawn air. He and Bones had compared notes and felt they were no closer to whatever treasure, if any, Striker had been searching for. Both felt that the Arch Gold Mine just didn’t fit, although neither was willing to dismiss the possibility out of hand. They also agreed that the parallels between Shipman and Striker merited further investigation.
He followed the racecourse, bypassing the obstacles and following the winding trail through the hills. It didn’t take long for him to regret that decision. Later today, he and Bones would be guiding Gambles to the iron door and possibly explore the caverns. No sense in wearing himself out.
He came to a halt at the top of a steep defile that sliced down the cliff like an aqueduct. In a rainstorm, it would be the last place he’d want to be. Right now, it looked like the quickest way down.
Bracing his hands against the sides, he worked his way down, stepping, slipping, and skidding in fits and starts. As the sun began to rise and the morning mist cleared, he realized the way down was a lot further and the way more precarious than he’d initially believed. His footing became less sure and he struggled to control his descent.
A loud crack like a cue ball striking a billiard rang out in the quiet morning somewhere above him. Maddock stole a glance over his shoulder, nearly tumbling face first in the process.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
A beach ball-sized boulder was tumbling down the crevasse right on his tail. It thundered down the hill, eating up the space between them at a rapid clip.
He assessed the situation in an instant. There was no way he could arrest his slide enough to climb out of the way. And there was no chance of the boulder missing him in this narrow space. He would have to make a run for it.
Letting out a “Hooyah!” he launched himself down the hill, the crevice boxing him in like a bobsled in its track. He felt weightless as he half ran, half plummeted down the hill. Each step felt like flying.
As steep as this incline is, even if I can remain on my feet until I hit the bottom, I’ll probably land flat on my face, he thought.
Behind him the sound of the pursuing boulder grew louder. It was gaining on him. Up ahead, the steep incline gradually sloped outward and the walls of the crevice grew shorter. If he could only make it a little farther.
Thud! Crack!
He wasn’t going to outrun it. It was time to try something stupid. He focused on the sound as it grew louder.
Three... two... one...
He sprang into the air, arms and legs wind-milling as he flew. The boulder passed beneath him, but not before it clipped his heel. He came down awkwardly, his ankle twisted beneath him, and he stumbled forward. He managed to tuck his shoulder and roll.
Again and again the hard stone battered his body, scoured his flesh, as he rolled forward. He tumbled to a halt and opened one eye.
Another boulder was bearing down on him.
Every muscle screaming in protest, he lurched to his feet and, calling upon resources he didn’t know he still had at his disposal, he leapt out of the crevice. He came down on his injured ankle, which gave way, sending him sliding down the hill. The dry, crumbling earth made for a soft descent, but the California barrel cactus that arrested his fall more than made up for it.
Maddock gritted his teeth and let out a grunt of pain as what felt like a thousand pinpricks burned into his thighs and backside. But there was no time to worry about that right now.
He flipped over onto his stomach, scooted back behind the cactus, and scanned the slopes above him. One boulder he could accept as an accident, even if it looked like it had been hand-selected for a game of human tenpins. But a second boulder? He shook his head. Someone had tried to kill him.
He watched the slope for a full five minutes before he was satisfied that his would-be assailant had fled. Once he was back on his feet, he took a moment to assess the damage.
Twisted ankle, chipped tooth, busted nose and lip, more abrasions than he could count, a possible broken rib, and one ruined Captain America t-shirt.
“Dammit. When Bones finds out I fell down the hill and got an ass full of cactus.” Visions of Bones gleefully firing off texts to the rest of the crew. “What the hell? I’d do the same to him.”
With a sinking feeling of resignation, he limped back to the ranch. He’d hoped to make a quiet entrance, but it was not to be. Gambles was sitting on the front porch with Riv and Dakota. The three of them were alarmed by his appearance but he assured them it wasn’t as bad as it looked. They reluctantly took his word for it, as well as his assurance that he’d merely taken a spill while climbing.
That hurdle cleared, he slipped inside, only to find Grizzly and Bones sipping coffee at the bar that ran between the living room and kitchen.
“What the hell happened to you?” Bones asked.
Maddock motioned for his friend to keep his voice down, stole a glance out at the porch.
“I don’t want to cause an alarm, but somebody just tried to kill me.” He recounted the tale as quickly and superficially as he could. Fortunately, Bones didn’t press for details beyond what Maddock told him.
“You’re right. There’s no way that second boulder could have been dislodged accidentally.”
“You think it was Shipman?” Grizzly asked.
“As usual, I have no evidence against him but he’s our only suspect.”
“Maybe it was one of those dudes who took a shot at us the other day,” Bones said. “Maybe they were poking around here and recognized you.”
Maddock made a non-committal bob of his head. “I really think it was Shipman. He saw me poking around near the iron door and decided to play a little human ten pins.”
“Do we call the police?” Grizzly asked with a touch of reluctance.
“Let’s do some scouting around first and see what we can find out. If there’s no proof Shipman, or anyone else, did it, what’s the point? But I do think we should make sure the ranch is safe before we take Gambles or anyone else out into the hills.”
Maddock wanted to be part of the group that went out scouting for the assailant but was forced to admit he was in no condition to hike or climb. In the end, it was agreed that Bones and Riv would take on the task.
A few minutes later, Lilith and Rockwell arrived. They had heard about the dungeon room and wanted permission to pay it a visit. When they heard about the attack on Maddock, Rockwell offered to help with the scouting and Riv gladly accepted.
While the trio prepared to leave, Maddock made the long, slow trek up to the second floor where the guest bedrooms were located. He showered and dressed, then texted Bones to come up for a quick word.
“I’ve got kind of an embarrassing problem,” he said when the door opened and his friend’s puzzled face peeked inside.
“I know,” Bones said. “You wear those tight shorts and you don’t have much business going up front. In fairness, my sister says you have a nice butt.”
“Says or said?” Maddock had been engaged to Angel Bonebrake, but she had broken it off.
“Both, but that’s not important. What’s your problem?”
“I’m in what you might call a sticky situation. I slid into a cactus and I can’t reach a few of the spines.”
Bones stared blankly at him. “You realize this is going to involve tweezers and up close and personal inspection?”
“I’m already having second thoughts. Forget it.”
“No, it’s all right. I’ve got you covered, man.” Bones turned and shouted down to the people gathered in the living room. “Yo, Spenser! Maddock needs your help with something!”
Maddock blinked. “What the hell did you just do?”
Bones grinned. “I’ve always got your back, but never your backside.”