Unstoppable

by Laura Griffin

“Not originally, why?”

  “You said you were close to Joe, so I just assumed.”

  “We moved down from Seattle when I was nine. After my dad died.” She eyed him over the rim of her beer and seemed to read his mind. “Car accident,” she added.

  Shit. “That must have been . . .” He shook his head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  “No, it’s okay.” She turned her bottle on the table. She didn’t look upset to be talking about it, just . . . resigned, as if the pain had been processed a long time ago. “It was my birthday. He’d driven to Bellingham to pick up my present.” She glanced at him and rolled her eyes. “It was a puppy. I’d been begging my parents for months. My dad found a litter of Weimaraner puppies for sale, so he was on his way to get one when a logging truck hit him.”

  Gage didn’t say anything. But as he looked at her he knew he’d been wrong. The pain was still very real, she’d just learned to mask it.

  “That must have been rough,” he said, knowing exactly how inadequate that sounded.

  “We got through it. But I’ve always felt guilty, you know? Like I caused it.” She looked up at him and her expression was thoughtful. “Do you ever wonder how your life might be different if you could go back and change just one thing?”

  Gage stared at her. It was like she’d reached out and slapped him. Had Joe told her about Adam Mays? Or was his paranoid imagination screwing with him again?

  “Sorry. Too much information, right?” She gave him a phony smile. “When you asked about San Diego, you probably wanted to talk about the Padres, huh?”

  The sat phone rang and she jumped up to answer it, saving him from a response. It was the DNA woman, Mia, and Gage distracted himself by listening in on their conversation.

  “That’s right, two,” Kelsey said. “We discovered the second grave late this afternoon, but I didn’t want to start in case we got rain tonight . . . Yes . . . Uh-huh. It’s been disturbed by animals.” She moved to the window. “Say that again? It’s raining here and my reception’s bad.”

  Gage watched her talk to her friend. She rested her hand on her hip and tipped her head to the side, as if considering something. She wore shorts again tonight, and he couldn’t stop looking at her legs. That first day, he’d thought they were skinny, but now he knew there was nothing skinny about her. She had the perfect body—all long, slender limbs and squeezable curves.

  She caught him staring and he looked away.

  “Gage found it, using a metal detector. It was near some spent shell casings. When we excavate tomorrow, I won’t be surprised if we find a slug mixed in with the bones.” She turned her back on him and parted the blinds to peer out the window. “Oh. Yeah, he’s . . . he’s new on the dig.”

  Gage let his gaze roam around her camper as she exchanged shoptalk with Mia. Her computer was stowed in the corner, atop a pile of files. Towers of books lined the walls. The sleeping bag he’d used last night had been rolled up neatly and tossed beside a stack of archaeology journals. Gage sighed. This had never happened before. Most of the women he dated tended toward the vapid, cheerleader type, groupies who hung around Coronado for the express purpose of picking up SEALs.

  Kelsey was about the least vapid woman he’d ever met, and she in no way resembled a cheerleader. Gage would be willing to bet she’d spent all of high school with her nose in a book.

  He looked at her legs again. For the first time in his life he’d fallen in lust with a nerd.

  “I’m getting that advice from all sides now,” Kelsey told her friend. “I’m moving tonight. I’m sure I’ll be safe and sound at the lodge, so you can quit worrying.”

  She turned to face him when she got off the phone. “That was Mia. She wants that second set of bones as soon as I get them excavated. The FBI’s been calling her.”

  “The FBI?”

  “Something about a missing-person’s case. Mia thinks the missing person could be one of their agents. They’re really pressuring her for an ID.”

  The sat phone rang again and she picked it up.

  “Hello?” She listened neutrally for a moment, and then her face clouded with worry. “Are you sure? Rohit said—” She paused, then crossed the trailer and jerked the door open. Rain pelted it as she peered outside. “Well, he’s not here. Have you tried the lodge?” She closed the door and shot Gage an anxious look. “Okay, call me if you find him.”

  “Dylan’s still AWOL?” he said after she hung up.

  “He’s not at the bar, the diner, or the lodge.”

  “Car trouble, maybe?”

  “No one spotted him on the way into town.”

  Gage’s gaze settled on the camera that was sitting on a chair beside Kelsey’s baseball cap, and something he’d wondered about this afternoon was back in his head.

  “Maybe he never went to town,” he said.

  “Where else would he go? There aren’t a lot of options around here.”

  “I’m not sure.” He stood up and grabbed his keys off the table. “But I’ve got an idea.”

  In the fading light the petroglyphs looked oddly modern, like some strange graffiti made by pre-Columbian teenagers. Kelsey stepped back from the rocks, trying to imagine where Dylan would have stood to capture the most impressive angle.

  “Are we sure he was up here earlier?” she asked Gage.

  “You said that, not me. I haven’t seen the guy today.”

  She surveyed the area for clues. “He said he was coming up here. His research includes these engravings.”

  “Well, his footprints are here.”

  She turned to Gage.

  “Two sets of tracks, one coming in, one going out. Keen hiking boots, size ten.”

  She gaped at him. “You know his shoe size?”

  He shrugged. “It’s an estimate. But the boots, I know. I noticed them the other day because I used to have a pair.” Gage pointed to a footprint in the dust. The limestone overhang had kept the rain from obliterating it. “See that? The logo’s part of the tread.”

  She looked at him with a renewed sense of appreciation. Her “hired hunk of muscle” comment had been way off base, and she felt a twinge of remorse. How would she have felt if he referred to her as a piece of meat? But he’d treated her with nothing but respect since his arrival. He was firm, yes, but always respectful.

  Gage was looking out over the valley now. He glanced back at her. “Come here for a sec.”

  “What?”

  He took her arm and tugged her over, then turned her until she was facing due south. He left his hands on her shoulders and she pretended to be relaxed.

  “What am I looking at?”

  “Same thing Dylan was probably looking at when he was up here with his zoom lens.”

  “Okay.” She took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the landscape. It was twilight and everything was washed with periwinkle. No shadows. Just endless desert dotted with scrub brush and the distant vegetation line that marked the Rio Grande.

  “I still don’t know what I’m looking at.”

  Gage sighed, clearly disappointed with her powers of observation.

  “Hey, I was never an Eagle Scout,” she said. “You’re going to have to spell it out for me.”

  His hands dropped away. “This is the same view we had from on top of that mercury mine the other night. Remember with the night-vision goggles?” He pointed at something straight in front of them. “I was looking right at that mesa. At that same stand of mesquite trees, in fact.”

  She turned around. “I was stuck in the cave with all the bats. You were the one traipsing around with the high-tech toys.”

  “Okay, point is, what if Dylan was out here taking pictures and he saw the same thing I saw? Maybe he got curious later and decided to drive out there and take a look.”

  “You’re talking about the vanishing SUV?”

  “Or whatever it was.” Gage’s attention was fixed on the horizon now. He shrugged out of the backpack he always carried and
unzipped it, then pulled out a pair of binoculars. “You see his black Explorer down there?”

  “I can hardly see anything. It’s getting dark.”

  “I’m thinking maybe he left the dig site to go get a beer, like he told Rohit, then decided to take a little detour first to do some exploring.”

  The idea made Kelsey’s stomach knot. She envisioned one of her students down in that valley, near where that girl had been dragged from her car and shot. She scanned the horizon, desperate now for any sign of the SUV. Would Dylan really have driven down there?

  Gage passed her the binoculars. “I don’t see jack.”

  “What about the night goggles?”

  “Not dark enough yet.”

  Kelsey peered through the binoculars. The light was terrible. If his car was out there, would she even be able to spot it? She saw a clump of mesquite trees. A twisted oak. A dip in the landscape. More mesquite.

  And then she spied something. Black. Rectangular. Poking out from behind a clump of scrub brush.

  “Oh, God.”

  “What is it?” Gage asked.

  “I’m not sure. Probably nothing.” But the knot in her stomach tightened because she knew she was wrong. It was something. Something that didn’t belong down there.

  Nature doesn’t like straight lines.

  “Oh God, Gage.” She looked up at him. “I think I might have found his Explorer.”

  “Maybe it’s just a stalled car.”

  Gage turned to look at her as the pickup bumped over ruts in the primitive highway. He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to encourage her to get her hopes up.

  “Or maybe he had a flat.” Kelsey stared straight ahead through the windshield as the headlights lit up the muddy road. “He’d stay with his vehicle, right? I mean, if he couldn’t get a cell signal. That’s what they say. If you’re stranded in the desert, don’t leave your car.”

  Her voice was firm, confident. As if saying it with enough conviction would make it reality.

  Gage was pretty sure he knew the kind of reality they were going to find when they drove up on Dylan’s Explorer. It wasn’t going to be pretty. And no matter how many skeletons Kelsey had pulled from the ground, it was going to hurt her. It was different when it was someone you knew.

  “Try my cell again.” Gage fished his phone from the cup holder and handed it to her, mainly as a distraction. “Maybe we’ll luck out, get a signal. Sattler can’t be doing anything tonight, right?”

  Like a robot, Kelsey dialed the numbers. Again, no dice. She let the phone drop into her lap and just stared out the window.

  She felt responsible, and Gage ached for her. He knew that feeling well, and it sucked. And to make things worse, he knew this was a bad idea. What they should have done was double back for the sat phone and call the sheriff out here. But Gage had seen the look on Kelsey’s face after she’d spotted the SUV. No amount of persuasion would have kept her away. If Dylan was out here alive, he probably needed help, and Sattler wasn’t known for his quick response time.

  Gage tore his gaze away from Kelsey and focused on driving. This was a crappy road under normal conditions, but with the rain earlier it had become a mud pit. The highway jogged east and Gage slowed as he pulled off. The headlight beams bounced along the pitted terrain, lighting up cacti and rocks and scraggly bushes. He tried to drive by feel, letting his tires find the natural path that had been carved out by repeated use. This was the most basic kind of road—no pavement, not even gravel, just a strip of land made bald as people sought out the shortest distance between point A and point B.

  The headlights flashed over a clump of mesquite trees. He spotted an odd-shaped boulder that looked familiar. This was the spot.

  But no black Ford Explorer.

  Gage rolled to a stop beneath a gnarled oak tree and parked. He reached into the back of the cab and retrieved his rucksack, which contained a collection of weaponry, including his backup gun. He tucked the pistol into the waistband of his jeans as Kelsey watched him, wide-eyed.

  “When I get out, scoot into the driver’s seat,” he said. She had her radio clipped to her belt alongside her gun, and he reached over her to switch it on. “Keep the engine running. If anyone approaches you, take off.”

  “But what about you?”

  “Get your Ruger ready. And don’t be afraid to use it if you feel threatened. You got that?”

  “No. I’m coming with you.”

  “I need you to stay in the truck,” he said. “It’s not safe for you to—” She pushed open the door and got out. “Goddamn it, Kelsey!”

  She stalked right over to the stand of mesquite. She did a complete turn and gestured at the trees. “It was just here a minute ago. I saw it. How could it disappear like that?”

  Gage scanned the area for threats as he joined her beside the trees. He’d never met a woman who was so bullheaded.

  “I need you back in the truck while I look around.”

  She turned to face him. “It was here. Right near this weird boulder. I saw a black SUV sticking out from these trees. You saw it, too.” Her eyes looked slightly wild now as she glanced around in the dimness. “Am I going crazy here? Is this the Bermuda Triangle?”

  “No.” Gage wasn’t sure what it was. But he had a hunch the explanation was frighteningly simple.

  Giving up on getting her back in the pickup, he pulled her closer to the big rock. “Stay here. And be quiet a second.”

  She fell silent, and Gage took a full minute to absorb his surroundings. To their west was a low mesa. Less than a mile south, the river. The valley rose gently to their north until it butted up against the limestone cliffs that marked the southwest boundary of the dig site.

  Gage looked west, where the sun had disappeared behind the mesa. Night was falling faster than usual because of the cloud cover, and in ten minutes it would be nearly impossible to see.

  “Stay here,” he repeated, squeezing Kelsey’s shoulder to reinforce the command. Then he moved off toward the boulder.

  The rain had stopped, but the air felt saturated, and he knew it was going to be one of those on-again off-again storm nights. Thunder rumbled low to the north, as if echoing his thoughts. Wind rustled through the scrub brush. An animal snarled in the distance, but he heard not a single sound that resembled a motor.

  His eyes had adjusted, and he could still see somewhat, despite the coming darkness. He walked all the way around the rock, looking for any sign of Dylan or his SUV, half expecting to stumble over the guy’s bullet-riddled body. He circled the clump of trees. He even pulled out a penlight and combed the ground around them.

  Fresh tire tracks, leading back toward the highway. But no Dylan.

  Gage stood there, running through scenarios. Dylan could have been out here changing a tire, then left, just as they’d been coming to his rescue. But, if so, why hadn’t they passed him on his way back to camp?

  The kid could have heard them coming and been afraid for some reason and driven away. Maybe he’d been injured by someone or something and had just now made it back to his vehicle.

  He could be dead, and someone could have taken his SUV.

  Gage made his way back to Kelsey, letting his flashlight beam trail over the ground.

  “Gage,” she hissed. “Come look at this.”

  And that’s when he spotted it.

  Camouflage netting tossed carelessly over some bushes. Only it wasn’t careless at all. And suddenly everything fit together—the traffic, the shootings, the disappearing vehicles. He crouched down and lifted a corner of the netting, revealing a small metal grate.

  “Gage, you have to— Oh!”

  He whirled around. “Kelsey?”

  She didn’t answer.

  Seven

  Kelsey blinked up at the blackness. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t breathe. She tried to sit up but it felt like sandbags were piled on top of her chest.

  “Kelsey, answer me, damn it! Where are you?”

 
; She opened her mouth to talk but all that came out was a strangled cough.

  “Kelsey?”

  His voice was moving farther away, and she summoned every ounce of strength to turn onto her side and push herself up on an elbow. “Here,” she wheezed.

  He was beside her in a heartbeat. His hands were all over her—her arms, her legs, her face.

  “Are you okay? Did you break anything?”

  “I hit my . . . solar plexus . . . knocked the wind out.” She was getting her breath back but she still couldn’t see, and she clung to Gage’s arms. A flashlight blinked on.

  “Is anything broken?” He shined the light in her face and she squinted. “You fell about ten feet.”

  “I’m fine.” She experimented, moving her legs, her arms. “My coccyx hurts a little, but—”

  “Your what?”

  “My tailbone. I’m fine otherwise.”

  The light blinked off, and his quiet laughter surrounded her. At some point he’d put his arms around her, and she leaned into him now, absorbing his heat as she tried to catch her breath.

  “Guess you’re all right if you still know your anatomy.” He eased her away. “Can you stand up, you think?”

  He helped her to her feet. She felt unsteady so she held onto his arm.

  She glanced around. The air felt cool and damp, but she still couldn’t see anything. “What is this hole?”

  “Not a hole. A tunnel.”

  She blinked into the darkness and turned around. There seemed to be more light behind her, a very faint glow.

  “A tunnel,” she repeated. “You mean like a mine shaft? I saw an opening. It’s probably a mercury mine.”

  “It’s not. Maybe it was at one time but that’s not what it is now. It’s a border tunnel.” The light flashed on again, and he directed it over the walls around them.

  “Oh, my gosh,” she murmured.

  The passageway was wide and tall. They both could have stretched their arms out and not touched the sides. And unlike the mine shaft near the dig site, these walls were made of cinder blocks.

  “They have these between San Diego and Tijuana,” Gage said. “But I’ve never heard of any in the middle of nowhere like this. And I’ve never heard of any this big.”