Their pursuers were less than one hundred meters away. The car’s high beams raked across the cliffs. A rifle bullet shattered rocks a few inches above Marcus’s head. He lowered to the ground, pulling Alicia with him to hide behind a ledge of rock. Marcus watched the two men get out of their car. “One’s carrying a rifle,” he whispered, looking around them. “Over there. There’s some old steps carved into this hill. Let’s go for it!” They bolted toward the pathway. A bullet shattered rock above their heads.
Marcus used the ridge to steady his aim. He fired. The shot hit one man in the chest. “Run, Alicia!”
She followed him. The path twisted, leading in and out of fissures. The old stone was cool to the touch in the chilly desert air. “Over there! Paul, it’s a cave.”
“It’s our best hope.”
“We don’t even know who’s chasing us.”
“They’re chasing us because they’re tracking us.”
“Tracking! How? Maybe it’s the car — something hidden in Jacob’s car.”
“I don’t think so because that was his wife’s car. He rarely drove it.” They ran for the cave. Another high-powered rifle bullet slammed into the cliffs. The round ricocheted. A bullet fragment hit Alicia in her right arm.
“Marcus! I’ve been shot! My arm…”
“Hold on!” He led her into the cave. It was absolute darkness. Alicia tripped on a rock and fell. Marcus helped her up and fished for the Zippo lighter in his pants pocket. He lit the wick, the flame casting a yellow glow a few feet into the cave, shadows dancing on the wall. A bat flew from the ceiling, its wings brushing against Alicia’s hair as the animal darted out the mouth of the cave.
“Let me see your arm.” Marcus ripped Alicia’s sleeve away from her bloody right arm. Blood flowed, dripping onto the floor of the cave. “I don’t see where the bullet made an exit wound. I have to stop the bleeding.” He tore the tail off his shirt, folded it in quarters, and used a shoelace to hold the cloth against the wound. He looped his belt over her shoulders to make a sling.
There was a noise outside. The crunch of shoe leather against pebbles. Stopping and starting. Someone in no hurry. Someone tracking, hunting.
“Paul, he’s coming. We have to hide.”
“This way.” They ran farther inside the cave. The air grew colder and carried an odor of charcoal and bat feces. They proceeded deep inside, following the light from the single flame. Blood oozed from the dressing on Alicia’s arm. “Up there.” Marcus pointed to an outcropping of rock. “You can hide up there. I’ll draw this guy out and hope I’m better with a pistol than he is with a rifle.”
“We should stay together—”
“Alicia, you’re hurt, losing blood. I’m going to boost you up there. Once you’re in the crevice, don’t make a sound. Let’s go.” Marcus set the lighter on a rock. He laced his fingers together and knelt down. “Put your right foot in my hands. Hold onto my head or shoulders. Ready?”
“Yes.”
She stepped in his hands and he hoisted her to the ledge. He picked up the lighter and walked deeper into the cave. A gust of air blew the flame, almost blowing it out. Marcus stepped back. He’d come within a few inches of walking into some kind of hole. He held the lighter closer to the gap. It was larger than a manhole, edges chiseled, as if it had been hand-carved by someone centuries earlier. Marcus picked up a small rock and dropped it. He counted the seconds to himself waiting for the rock to hit bottom. There was no sound. Then he had an idea.
Alicia lay on her left side. She could hear the man enter the cave. He was less than one hundred feet away from her. She took deep, quiet breaths and slowly released the air. Just breathe. Heart’s pumping too hard. Cold. So damn cold.
There was a strong light somewhere near the entrance. She knew the man was carrying a flashlight powerful enough to light most of the cave. She slid backwards, as far as possible. Her head bumped into something hard. She touched it with one hand. It felt like she was touching an urn, or vase — old clay hard as the rock.
The light died. Total blackness. She could hear the intruder’s footsteps. Soft. Moving — the hunter stopping to listen. Where’s Paul? Will he be okay? This is not a place for dying. Her mind racing, breathing shallow, the coppery smell of blood in her nose. Within a few seconds, she knew the man had come close, maybe less than ten feet from her. She could hear him inhale. She held her breath and prayed.
Marcus lit the lighter, reached high as he could and set it on a rock outcropping thirty feet into the grotto, beyond the bottomless pit. He assumed the man was just around the bend, probably very near where Alicia was hiding. Marcus knew the Beretta had one bullet left. One shot.
Or one well-placed push.
The flashlight was on again. Three seconds and it was off. Marcus tossed a rock to the far left of where he thought the man may be.
Bam — bam — bam—
Three shots rang out. The bullets ricocheted around the stone walls. Sparks flying and rocks shattering. The noise of firepower echoed deep into the subterranean bowels of the cave. The odor of burned cordite drifted through black air.
“Drop the rifle!” Marcus ordered. “I have a gun pointed at your heart.”
“You must have x-ray vision, asshole,” came the gruff response.
“What do you want?” Marcus slid off his shoes and walked quietly closer to the shelf of rock between him and the man.
“You know what we want.”
“Who are we?”
“People you don’t want to mess with. Where’s the spear?”
“If you’d checked my car, you’d know.”
“I’ll check your dead body first.”
“You were tracking us…how?”
“Let’s just put it this way, there’s no place on earth you and the woman can hide.”
The flashlight burst on, blinding Marcus as he tried to take aim.
Bam—
A bullet came within inches of Marcus’s left eye. He returned fire, aiming directly at the light. The flashlight exploded. At once the cave was black. The only illumination came from the lighter perched at the far end of the cave.
Marcus could hear the man coming closer. Taking soft steps. Marcus bent down, picked up a pebble and tossed it to the far left. There was an immediate rifle shot. The man now was in the opening to the section of cave where Marcus waited behind the protrusion of rock. The man fired another shot and entered, rifle pointed at moving shadows. He looked up at the tiny flame burning on the other side of the rocky wall.
Marcus slammed his fist into the man’s lower jaw. He went down, the rifle sliding across the stone floor. Then he came up with a knife in his right hand. Marcus dove for the rifle just as the blade entered his shoulder.
The man was thick with muscle across the chest, powerful arms. He roared and charged like a grizzly bear. Marcus grabbed the man’s right hand and slammed it hard against a boulder, the knife falling from his grip. The attacker swung at Marcus’s head, knuckles hitting just above the left eyebrow. Marcus saw a flash of white. He stepped backwards, head woozy, a draft of cold air rising up from the dark pit.
“Where’s the spear!” bellowed the man.
Marcus crept to the side, using one foot to feel for the opening to the hole, blood dripping down his arm. “You should have checked the car.”
“You’re lying!” The man attacked, seizing Marcus by the neck, big hands squeezing. “The spear! Where is it? And where’s the flash drive?”
Marcus felt the bile and heat rise in his chest. He fought for a taste of air, the cave spinning.