Without taking his concentration from the dashboard and the view out the front window, Rod rattled off the engine restart protocol as he carried out the actions one more time.
Again, nothing.
“Grant, get your seatbelt on. Everyone, look out the windows. Tell me if you see anything like a golf course, large parking lot, or a field with a hard surface. We’re landing.”
“You’re going to ride the wind in?” Grant asked.
“Yes,” Rod answered. “Calculating glide speed now.”
“Maria?”
“Yes?”
“I need you to get on the radio and tell ground control exactly what I’m going to tell you.”
“Absolutely.”
Maria repeated everything word for word as Rod rattled off the specifics of the plane’s engine failure and their position. At the same time, he gently pulled back on the control wheel, keeping the airplane’s nose up.
Typically Maria reacted well to the rush of adrenaline, but this was not the kind of emergency she did well in. She had absolutely no control over the situation.
Helplessness was not a good feeling.
She glanced over at Rod and felt a surge of relief. They were in good hands. He had no sign of panic on his face. Just fierce determination.
Below them, the landscape had transformed from random brown, gray, and green shapes to a system of roads and fields and farmland.
Grant was practically breathing down Rod’s neck from the seat behind him. “All these fields look too soft. They’ve been too recently plowed.”
Rod nodded.
Grant continued, “It looks like a two-lane highway at nine o’clock. What do you think?”
“Already heading for it. The wind is blowing that direction and I’m going to use it to slow the landing down. And Grant?”
“Yeah?”
“Get your seatbelt on, now!” Rod barked the order.
Click.
Maria interlaced her fingers and set her hands in her lap. Her palms were sweaty and moist. Rod hadn’t had to tell her to put her belt on. She tried to slow her breathing and send out positive vibes his way. This was it. She had never been in an emergency landing before.
With no engine function, Rod rode the current best he could. “Just a few minutes, guys. Hold on.” Rod flipped a switch, causing a noise beneath them—the landing gear.
Natalie whimpered.
In Maria’s mind she repeated the words to the Cherokee prayer Jim had taught her. Grant hummed an old Def Leppard tune. Rod inhaled and exhaled slowly.
The asphalt road raced toward them. It grew larger and larger. Maria focused on the white line that separated the two lanes of traffic. Please, nobody drive into us. Stay as far away as possible.
The control wheel slightly vibrated beneath Rod’s grip. He eased it gently one way, then the other, keeping the plane on a direct course with the highway beneath them.
“Five. Four. Three. Two. One.” Rod’s voice rang through the cabin.
Maria held her breath, ready for impact.
The wheels connected with the ground, choppy at first and then turning into a smooth glide. Rod seemed completely under control. All seemed well until….
A telephone pole appeared on the horizon. “Uh, Rod?” Maria pointed ahead.
“I see it.” He cheated as much as he could to the left and still stay on the road. “Hold on. This is going to bite!”
Maria watched out her window as the right wing of the plane sliced the pole in half. But the pole got its revenge by taking the tip of the wing completely off.
The plane wobbled, and for a moment Maria thought they might veer off the road, but Rod didn’t let it happen. Somehow he kept it steady and applied the brakes.
Pad screeched against wheels like an animal facing its death. Maria counted backward from a hundred, waiting for the plane to stop. She was rewarded at number thirty-two. The plane was absolutely still. Everything around them had quit moving.
“Everybody out,” barked Rod, “and get as far from the plane as possible. Now!”
Even Grant followed orders exactly. Maria undid her seatbelt, opened the door, caught a whiff of air that smelled like burned rubber, and jumped out of her seat onto the asphalt. The moment her feet hit the ground she took off running into the green field that was to the side of the highway. She beat everyone else there. Grant and Natalie arrived next, holding hands and Grant talking non-stop about his brother’s “boss job” of landing the plane.
But where was Rod? A twang of concern shot through Maria’s insides.
At last Rod appeared from around the other side of the plane. He was on his phone, reporting the location of where they’d landed. He didn’t mention the telephone pole, but requested fire engines ASAP in case there had been any kind of a fuel leak.
When he got to the group, Grant high fived him and slugged his arm a few times. “Dude, I can’t believe how you rocked that. You looked like you were surfboarding the whole time. Totally chill.”
Rod smiled at Grant, but his eyes were elsewhere. He stepped closer to Maria. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I think so. I’ve never done that before.” She gave a weak laugh.
“Me neither.” Then, without another word, Rod’s strong arms pulled her into his chest and closed around her tightly. He buried his face in her hair.
Maria’s stomach did a flip-flop. She sensed his slow exhale. The man was stressed. His actions didn’t precisely represent his true feelings. Unfortunately, they reflected Maria’s. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was in love with every last bit of him.
Maria savored his touch, sliding her own arms around his torso and holding him as if her life depended on it.
Even if it was only for a minute.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Around 2010, an aging Fenn decided it was time to cement his legacy. He left his home, drove somewhere in the Rocky Mountains, and hid the chest. In a subsequent memoir, The Thrill of the Chase, he revealed the treasure to the public and offered a 24-line poem containing ambiguous clues leading to its precise location.
“FENN’S TREASURE: OUR 5-DAY QUEST FOR $2 MILLION HIDDEN IN THE ROCKIES” BY ZACHARY CROCKETT, UPDATED ON JUNE 30, 2017, HTTPS://WWW.VOX.COM/A/FENN-TREASURE-HUNT-MAP
Leaving the Phoenix courtroom late in the evening, Maria took one look at Rod and knew they weren’t heading home. Bags hung low under his bloodshot eyes. Maria didn’t know whether it was the stress of the emergency plane landing, seeing his ex-wife again, or both. Regardless, Rod needed some sleep and Maria was pretty hammered herself.
“Listen,” said Maria, “we don’t have to get home tonight. There’s no reason to kill ourselves. Let’s get some sleep and head to Kanab in the morning. Grant and Natalie are taking care of the plane, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then I say we get some rest and leave first thing in the morning.”
Wearily, Rod looked at her. “Do you think it’s okay? You know, with Justin and all?”
“Absolutely.”
Rod opened the passenger door to the rental car that Grant had gotten for them and held it open until Maria climbed inside. As he walked around the car to get into the driver seat, Maria was on her phone texting. By the time he sat in the driver’s seat, she had a plan.
“Amy says she can put us up for the night. She’s only about twenty minutes from here.”
“Amy who?” Rod asked.
“Amy, you know, Brian’s wife, well ex-wife, actually?”
Surprised, Rod looked at Maria. “I didn’t know you and Amy were still friends.”
“Yeah, we text every so often. You weren’t Brian’s only victim. He took Amy for everything she had.”
“Poor lady.” Rod scratched his head and slapped his cheek in an effort to stay awake. “Okay, I think it sounds good. I’m not sure I can keep my eyes open much longer.”
The “For Sale” sign on Brian’s turreted mansion reflected the yellow light from the city street lam
p. Maria wondered how much the home would sell for. She was sure Amy couldn’t wait to get rid of the albatross.
After a quick “hello” and an invitation into the house, Amy had nothing but hugs and kind words for both Maria and Rod.
“I’m so glad you thought to text me, Maria. It’s great to see you.”
In the living room the furniture had been pushed to one side. Chairs were stacked up, and lamps, ceramic figures, and crystal vases littered the top of one table. The art had been removed from the walls and leaned against the couches.
“Excuse the mess. I’m moving out at the end of the month. It’s going to feel so good to get out of this place. Nothing but bad memories here.” Amy scooted some papers off a sofa and gestured for them to sit down.
“Oh, we’re so tired,” said Maria. “Is it okay if we just head to bed?”
“Of course. I know you’ve had a crazy day. Head on upstairs. I made the beds in the rooms you stayed in last time. I’ll be up early, so don’t worry about waking me. Leave whenever you need to. And please tell your friend I’m praying for her little boy.”
“I will,” said Maria. “I know everybody’s support means a lot to her.”
Rod and Maria dragged themselves up the stairs and down the hallway. Since the relationship was over there was no longer an awkward question of where they would be sleeping. In her room, Maria didn’t bother taking her clothes off. She flopped down, curled up into the fetal position on top of the cover, tucked the memory foam pillow underneath her head, and closed her eyes.
“No.” The voice came from the haze. “I have no more information.”
Maria would recognize that deep-throated raspy sound anywhere. It was Ryan.
Gradually Maria’s eyes focused and she saw Ryan in the middle of several terrorist interrogators. One hit him and he didn’t even flinch. After what he had been through, a punch was hardly something that could cause a reaction.
For several minutes the men grilled him, occasionally roughing him up. Ryan stayed cool and collected. Even making a joke once. Maria watched like a fly on the wall.
All at once the scene misted over and she felt a tugging in her gut. She was creeping through the hallways of the terrorist prison. She had slipped out of an interrogation room that had been left open. It was her chance to escape.
Maria continued silently down the corridor to the courtyard. Barely opening the door, she slipped outside. The air, though polluted, was intoxicating. She felt the wind tickle her face and she briefly closed her eyes to the almost painful sensation.
Forward. She had to keep moving forward.
Maria eyed the electric fence that surrounded the facility. Seeing no break in it, she hugged close to the wall of the building and began making her way to the other side.
Turning the corner, she saw a man with a bag over his head. His hands were tied behind his back. A shorter man gripped under the prisoner’s arm and walked at his side. Another guard followed, poking his bayonet into the back of the hooded figure.
The clothing was familiar. American. It was what Ryan wore the day her black ops team was captured.
A hangman’s noose hung from a makeshift gallows in the center of the yard.
Maria barely stopped herself from screaming and revealing her location to the guards. A heaviness in her stomach grew until it was a dense clot of dread.
What should she do?
The terrorists were going to hang Ryan. Should she scream? Attack? Run?
Maybe Maria could take his place. What a blessing that would be. The torture would be over.
Maria’s feet felt like lead weights. She couldn’t seem to move them.
Ryan was forced onto the platform.
Maria’s hands twisted around each other.
Ryan was told to bend over. His head was shoved into the opening of the noose. He cried out just once. He said a name. Maria didn’t recognize it. Perhaps it was the name of his mother. Or a grandmother. Or of lover no one knew about but Ryan. It certainly wasn’t her name. She was the one who had let them all down. Hers wasn’t a name the damned would call for saving.
Maria tried again to move. This time she was able to overcome the fear and dislodge her feet. Her body moved quickly, footsteps thudding on the hardened dirt.
A guard turned her direction and hollered.
Several yards still separated Maria from where Ryan stood on the gallows.
She had no plan. She only knew she couldn’t watch them kill Ryan.
“Ryan, it’s Maria. I’m so sorry.”
The smaller of the two guards grabbed at Maria’s tattered clothing but she yanked herself out of his grip.
Another foot or two and she would be close enough to touch her former team member.
“Maria?”Ryan’s voice was confused.
“It’s me.” She thrust her hand upward and touched the feeble leg of her friend who was positioned on the edge of the wooden plank.
Someone pushed Maria from behind, and she fell to the ground. Three new guards surrounded her. She aimlessly kicked at their bodies, doing little damage the few times her foot connected.
“Get her back to her cell.”
They dragged her from the courtyard, kicking and screaming. “No! Ryan! No!”
Why couldn’t it have been her?
Sweating and out of breath, Maria sat up on the bed, wide awake after her dream about Ryan. Even though the room was dark, Maria made out the shape of a shadowy man in the corner. Not a real man. It was the same strange apparition she’d seen in the detaining cell of the Kanab police station.
Ghosts didn’t scare her anymore. Her dreams were much worse.
Maria stood up, ready to see what the shadow needed to move on. It wasn’t that she was scared. More like she was bothered. This was the last thing she wanted to deal with right now.
Once Maria was on her feet, she noted that the shadow was about the same height as Ryan. And even the same build, she thought. It was hard to remember what exactly Ryan had looked like. She’d tried so hard to suppress those memories. Could it be her former team member come back to haunt her?
Just like in the Kanab detaining cell, the figure faded in and out of reality.
“Who are you?” Maria asked. The figure turned his head. If Maria could have seen his eyes she was sure he would have been looking at her. As it was, however, the silhouetted man raised his hand at the exact moment the door to Maria’s bedroom burst open.
“Are you okay?” asked Rod.
Maria stepped back in shock. “Uh, what?”
“I heard you scream.” Rod flipped on the hall light behind him. “I wanted to make sure everything was all right.” He took a few steps into the room and stopped. He gasped and began to rub his arms back and forth. “Why is it so freaking cold in here?”
Rod was dressed in a thin white t-shirt. Still, there was no reason for him to be acting like he was in the middle of the Antarctic.
“Cold?” asked Maria.
“It’s seriously frigid. How can you stand it? There must be something wrong with the air conditioner.”
Maria looked at her hands. They were slightly blue. “Weird.”
Had the shadow figure brought the cold with it? And if it was Ryan, was that supposed to tell her something?
“I’ll see what’s up with the thermostat.” Maria rubbed the last bit of sleep from her eyes. “Thanks for checking on me, Rod. Go back to bed and get some more sleep.”
“You sure?” Rod looked at her questioningly.
“Positive. See you in the morning.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Fenn won’t say how much the treasure is worth because the price of gold fluctuates. Some insiders have said it’s worth much more than one million dollars.
“WELL OVER $1 MILLION IN BURIED TREASURE: FIND IT!” BY MARGIE GOLDSMITH, HUFFPOST, FEB 18, 2011.
Despite her nightmare, Maria awoke at sunrise refreshed and ready to get back to Kanab to find Justin. A quick shower didn’t take long. By 6 a.m
. she was headed down the stairs. To her surprise, Amy and Rod were both already up chatting in the kitchen.
“I know.” Amy cracked an egg into a frying pan. “It’s like waking up one day and finding out you’ve been living a real life Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”
“It sure takes you for a spin.” Rod took a long drink from a tall glass of orange juice.
Maria set down her bag in the hallway and walked into the kitchen. “Sounds like you two are getting along.”
“Just exchanging horror stories of spouses gone bad.” Rod gave a little grunt.
“Well,” said Maria, “You two can certainly relate.”
In the early morning light, the kitchen looked more in disarray than it had when they arrived late last night. There were only two kitchen chairs left. No décor on the walls. And the table was heaped with an odd assortment of exotic looking food.
“You have been working hard to get this place cleaned out, haven’t you?” Maria walked over to Amy to see if she could help with breakfast.
“I cannot believe how much stuff we had.” Amy put the lid on the frying pan to steam the eggs. “Of course, not much of it was actually mine. When I moved into this house, Brian already had it full of useless, expensive crap.”
“Seriously, “said Maria, “I’ve never seen food like this before. Wasp crackers? Canned monkey brains? Maca chips? I mean, come on. Did he really eat it?”
“Brian prided himself on owning one of everything. He did, however, like the weird food. For example, he said the Maca chips from Peru increased his stamina. I don’t know, though. He basically liked anything expensive.”
“Since he was probably using other people’s money to buy it.” Rod growled under his breath, and Maria decided it was time to move on. “How are those eggs?”
“Done,” said Amy. “Grab a plate.”
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