by David Wood
“One thing’s for sure,” Maddock said. “It would be very easy to hide something in here and it would never be discovered. Unless a person knows exactly where they’re going, they could wander around in here forever.”
An uncomfortable silence ensued. They’d been exploring the network of passageways for quite some time and hadn’t seen any hint of a way out. None of them voiced their concerns, though. There was nothing to do except keep searching, so why bother talking about it? They continued on in silence.
“Do you think it was Shipman who made the tunnel from the dungeon room to these passageways?” Bones asked, probably to distract an increasingly nervous- looking Spenser.
“Maybe. The digging didn’t exactly look fresh, but it could have been cut in the years since he moved here.”
“Do you think he believes the Arch Gold Mine is in here somewhere?” Spenser asked.
Maddock shrugged. “If that’s the case, then he’s working from information that’s completely different from the legend. But it certainly could be. Often, the most commonly accepted version of a legend is the one that proves inaccurate.”
“Really? Like what?”
“Yeah, like what, Maddock?” Bones deadpanned.
The two of them could have provided countless examples from their own experiences, but many were classified and others so unbelievable as to make the two men seem unhinged, should they ever recount them.
Spenser’s eyes brightened. “Do you mean like how everyone thinks Moses crossed the Red Sea, but now scholars think it was the Sea of Reeds.”
Maddock was impressed. Even Bones nodded in approval.
They came to a fork in the passageway. Maddock shone his light down each in turn. Something about the way to the left caught his eye. The tiniest glint of yellow.
A closer investigation revealed a gold necklace wedged into a tiny crack in the rock.
“How did you even see that?” Bones asked.
“In that tiny crack in this dark tunnel?” Maddock shrugged. “I just happened to be standing in the perfect spot with my flashlight held at just the right angle.
Dumb luck.” He took out his Recon knife, carefully fished the necklace from the crack, and held it up on the tip of his knife. A golden unicorn pendant dangled from the fine gold chain.
“That’s gorgeous,” Spenser said. “Might even be hand-crafted. I’ll bet whoever lost it would love to have it back.”
“We’ll turn it in at lost-and-found on our way out,” Maddock said. He pocketed the necklace. “I think we should try this passage. The necklace at least proves someone came this way.”
Bones nodded. “Which hopefully means there’s a way out somewhere up ahead.”
“What are we waiting for? I want to be home in time for dinner.” Buoyed by this sliver of hope, Spenser bounded down the passageway.
And then Maddock saw it.
“Spenser! Stop!” He sprang forward and gave her a shove just as light flashed and a deafening boom filled the air. They hit the ground hard and she let out a grunt of pain. “Are you all right?”
“No.”
Maddock’s heart lurched. He pushed himself up to his knees and shone his light down. He saw blood.
Bones appeared at his side. “Is she shot?”
“No, but he busted my damn lip. Why did you tackle me?”
“The passage was booby trapped. It’s just a cheap trip wire and a pistol, but it would have done a number on you.”
Spenser’s eyes were like saucers. “You can’t be serious.”
“Look for yourself.” Bones shone his light on a hastily rigged trip wire running up a series of pulleys to trigger a .22 revolver.
“How did I not see that? I deserve a bloody lip.”
Relieved, Maddock helped her to her feet and wiped the blood away. “It’s not too bad. Don’t women pay a lot of money to get puffy lips?”
She grinned, touched her split lip. “Yes, but the puffiness is typically a little more evenly distributed.”
Bones hastily disarmed the trap and pocketed the revolver before they continued. They proceeded with caution, watching and listening.
Maddock thought the booby trap was odd. It hadn’t been very well hidden, which said it was either the work of an amateur, or it was intended to nab only the unwariest of passersby. But why was it here? What lay down this passageway that needed guarding with a deadly weapon? And had the sound of the trap discharging warned someone up ahead?
Finally, Bones broke the silence. “Can you smell it?” he whispered.
Maddock inhaled slowly, shook his head.
“I smell sage. I think we’re close to a way out.”
“Watch out for more booby traps,” Spenser cautioned.
They came to another fork. The way to the right seemed to be a continuation of the main passage, while the tunnel that angled off to the left quickly shrank to a hands and knees affair. But it was this tunnel Bones insisted they follow.
“This is where the smell is coming from. And the air is drier this way.”
“As much as I hate to admit it, he’s almost always right about these things,”
Maddock said to a doubtful-looking Spenser.
Fifteen minutes later and Maddock was having his share of doubts. The passageway twisted and turned, and they found themselves inching forward on their bellies.
“Almost there,” Bones said.
“We’re not going to get stuck, are we?” Spenser asked.
“Anywhere Bones can fit, you and I can fit too,” he assured her. Privately, he hoped Bones was right, because he didn’t relish the idea of scooting backward for however long it would take to get to a place where the tunnel was wide enough for them to turn around. The mere thought of it made him want to lie down and take a nap.
“And score!” Bones proclaimed.
There was low grunt, the clack and clatter of moving rock, and then...
“Sunlight!” Spenser breathed.
“The nose always knows,” Bones said.
Minutes later, they were standing in daylight, breathing the warm afternoon air.
Maddock stretched and took a few deep breaths.
“I can’t believe we squeezed our way out of that tiny crack,” Spenser said, looking down at the opening from which they’d climbed.
“Whoever set that booby trap, I don’t think this is the way they’ve been coming in and out. I think we just got very lucky that Bones found it.” Maddock turned and looked down the narrow slot canyon in which they’d emerged. The way was choked with fallen rocks and razor-sharp yucca. “I wouldn’t be surprised if this way into the caverns has gone undiscovered until today.”
Bones took a bow. “It’s what I do. Now, how do we find our way back to the ranch?”
“Or at least to a spot with coverage,” Spenser said, gazing sadly at her cellphone.
They took a minute to pile a few rocks in front of the small entrance before making their way. They clambered over tall boulders and loose piles of rock, enduring a few cuts and scrapes, but after their crawl through the darkness, Mad- dock was happy to put up with it. They followed its path until it emptied into a tiny canyon dense with juniper and manzanita.
“East is that way.” Bones pointed to the left.
“But how do we know that’s the direction we want to go?” Spenser asked. “We wound around in those passageways forever.”
“The entrance to the dungeon is east of the ranch house, so I’m going with our only piece of data. Worst case scenario, we miss the ranch but eventually we get to the sea.”
“We can climb out over there.” Maddock pointed to a series of chimneys, ledges, and cracks that ran up the canyon’s eastern rim. He turned to Spenser.
“Don’t worry. If it’s too much, one of us will stay behind with you.”
“I wasn’t worried. At least let me try before you start planning around my imminent failure.”
“That’s Maddock for you. Always the worst-case scenario,” Bones said as the
y headed east.
“We need to prepare for every possible disaster,” Maddock said. “You just never know.”
Spencer let out a giggle.
“What’s funny?” Bones asked. “That’s actually how he thinks. I don’t know why he isn’t selling insurance or bomb shelters.”
“Someone needs to be in charge of risk management,” she said.
“Whatever. Who wants to climb this thing first?” They had arrived at the canyon wall. The first climb was an ascent up a narrow chimney. Spenser went first. Bones boosted her up as high as he was able, and then, bracing her hands and feet against either side, she worked her way up inch by inch. Finally, she reached the first ledge and vanished from sight.
“You want a boost, too?” Bones asked.
Maddock didn’t get the chance to retort. At that moment, a voice rang out from behind them.
“Hands in the air, or you die!”
Chapter 9
––––––––
“Turn around slowly.” It was a man’s voice, youthful, anxious. Maddock didn’t like that. Nervous people were prone to accidents or rash decisions.
“Take it easy,” he said. “We’re just lost and trying to find our way back out.”
He and Bones turned around slowly, hands in the air. He couldn’t help but frown when he saw the man who held them at gunpoint.
He was a young man, late twenties perhaps, of mixed Anglo and Latin American descent. Clean shaven, hair neatly trimmed, eyes hidden behind mirrored sunglasses, he was clad in a black tie, crisp, white shirt, a cheap black suit sprinkled with trail dust and cactus spines, and black hiking boots.
“You almost got the costume right,” Bones said, eyes flitting to the man’s feet.
“What are you doing here?” the man asked.
“Like I said, we got lost.”
“Where did you come in from?” The man looked around, his pistol moving to and fro as his head turned. Maddock inched closer. “There’s only one way in and I know you didn’t come that way.”
“We came down a narrow slot canyon to the west,” Maddock said truthfully.
“We came down a hill and that’s where we ended up.”
“You ain’t supposed to be here. This is,” the man swallowed hard, “a classified project.”
He wasn’t a very good liar. The guy might be trying to dress the part of a government agent, but nothing about him or his bearing suggested he was anything of the sort. Still, whatever he really was up to, it must be serious business.
“We didn’t mean to intrude,” Maddock said. “We’re just lost hikers trying to get the hell out of here, which we’ll do right now.” He made to turn, but the man waved his pistol. “No, man. You can’t just go like that. We’ve got to...” He paused, glanced up and to his right, eyes narrowed. “We’ve got to debrief you. You’re coming with me.”
So that was it. The man wouldn’t be content to simply let them walk away.
Maddock knew what to do. Hands still raised, he nodded.
“No problem. We’ll answer any questions you have.”
Maddock began to walk slowly forward in the direction their captor indicated. “We’ll just need to see your credentials.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “Credentials?”
“Your badge and ID. I’m sure it’s there in the breast pocket of your jacket.”
Reflexively, the man looked down at his jacket for a split second.
It was the opening Maddock needed. He sprang forward, seized the man’s gun hand in both of his and forced him backward. They tumbled to the ground, the pistol firing wildly. Its sharp report set his ears ringing. He heard the ping of the bullet whizzing from stone to stone, caught the acrid smell of gunpowder, felt the impact of their bodies hitting the ground.
With his free hand, the man punched Maddock in the jaw, but at close quarters the blow did no damage. Maddock lifted his head and brought it smashing down on the fallen man’s nose. He felt the satisfying crack of his forehead finding its tar- get, heard a pained grunt, felt the pistol slip from the man’s grasp. “Got it.” Bones wrenched the pistol free. He held the .22 he’d freed from the booby trap in his other hand, and he now trained both on the fallen man.
“What’s your name?”
The young man scowled. “Reggie.”
“All right, Reggie. You’ve got one chance to tell us the quickest way to get back to civilization. If you don’t tell me, you get a bullet in the eye. If you tell me, and I find out you lied, I promise I’ll hunt you down, take you out, and then leave your body smeared in peanut butter for the coyotes to eat.” The man winced. In this part of the world, that was a common technique used by criminals to dispose of a body.
“You were headed in the right direction,” he said. “Climb out, head east. There’s a dude named Shipman who lives there.”
“You know him?” Maddock asked.
Reggie made a noncommittal wag of his head. “I’ve seen him.”
Maddock stood, helped Reggie to his feet, and searched him. The man carried no identification, only two spare magazines for his pistol, a pocketknife, and a bottle of water clipped to his belt. Maddock relieved him of all three.
“Hey, man. You can’t do that,” Reggie said.
“One more word and I take your boots, too,” Maddock warned.
“If we’re taking his boots, let’s tie him up with the laces so he can’t follow us,” Bones suggested.
“No, please. You can go. Just don’t come back.”
“That was several more words,” Maddock said. It was cruel to take Reggie’s boots, but Maddock, not willing to execute him, was already taking a risk by leaving him alive. If he was careful, the man should be able to make it back to wherever he came from without his feet suffering any permanent damage. “Now, get the hell out of here. If Bones sees any part of your body other than your back, he opens fire. You got it?”
The man nodded. Maddock seized him by the shoulders, spun him about, and gave him a shove. The man began to run as fast as his stocking feet would allow on the uneven ground.
“Faster!” Bones fired a shot from the .22 pistol. “That got him moving.”
“It also probably caught the attention of any of his friends who might be in earshot.”
“Uh oh,” Bones said. “Maybe we should get out of here.”
He handed the .22 to Maddock and pocketed Reggie’s .38 revolver.
Maddock clambered up the chimney and onto the first ledge. Spenser was nowhere to be seen. He hoped that meant she had heard the confrontation and had the good sense to keep moving. He scaled a sheer wall to another ledge, then clambered up a rockfall to another sheer face.
“Somebody’s coming,” Bones warned from just behind him.
Seconds later, Maddock heard voices in the distance, angry shouts. He was suddenly keenly aware of how exposed they were on this open slab of rock.
“Not much further,” Spenser’s voice called from somewhere up above.
“Get behind cover! Now!” Maddock shouted.
The pop of small arms fire rang out and slugs peppered the rock all around him. Maddock scrambled over the ledge, a bullet buzzing past his cheek. He reached down and helped Bones up and over. Bones came up with pistol in hand, but Maddock warned him away.
“They won’t climb up after us. They’d be sitting ducks.”
“Well, let’s make them think we plan on staying here and making this a shooting gallery.” He took aim and squeezed off a single shot. Down below, a man went down, cursing and pressing his hand to his thigh.
“I think you winged him,” Maddock said. “And I know there’s no point in asking if you meant to do that.”
“Of course I did,” Bones said with a grin.
“Sure, you did. Now, let’s get out of here. I think the local police will be interested in our story.”
Chapter 10
––––––––
The Salton Sea Police Department was headquartered in a small adobe-
style building a short drive from Grizzly’s ranch. It was clean and neat on the inside, if a bit confining. Maddock carried a drawstring bag containing the items they’d taken from Reggie. They’d left Spenser behind at the ranch. Considering the physical and mental strain of the day, she was bearing up well, but had opted to soak in a bath- tub rather than visiting the police station.
The front desk was being minded by an officer Franzen. She was of average height with long, dark hair which she wore in a bun. She greeted them with a weariness bordering on indifference, and her demeanor didn’t change when Maddock told her he’d like to report a crime.
“Grab a clipboard and pen and fill out the complaint form.” Her blue eyes never leaving her paperwork, she waved them in the direction of a table and chairs that stood in front of the picture window.
Bones took a step toward the desk, but Maddock shook his head. Depending on his mood, Bones would either flirt or argue with the officer, and Maddock could tell neither would go over well. No point in getting on the wrong side of local law enforcement if it could be avoided.
“There’s coffee in the break room,” Franzen said.
While Maddock began filling in the complaint form, Bones went for coffee. He returned a minute later with three cups.
“Looked like you needed a refill and I saw that you take it black,” he said.
“Thanks,” Franzen said, still not looking up.
Bones rolled his eyes, sat down at the table, and began to crack his knuckles— all of them at once, and then one at a time until Maddock told him to stop. Two seconds later, Franzen cracked her own knuckles. Bones and Maddock exchanged a puzzled glance. Franzen didn’t look up but Maddock thought he saw the hint of a smile.
When Maddock completed the form and handed it over, Franzen accepted it without looking at it, then set it to the side while she continued her paperwork. When she completed the form she was filling in, she signed with sharp jerks of her hand, the ball point pen digging into the paper.