Jack felt his heart pounding against his sternum — and in an odd way, it felt good. Once an adrenalin junkie, always an adrenalin junkie, he thought in twisted amusement. He dashed across the rock bridge, holding his breath as he jumped the larger cracks in the rock.
If he tripped here, the rangers wouldn’t find much when his body, falling at near terminal velocity, slammed into the jagged rocks at the bottom of the canyon.
He slid down the sandy trail leading into the wash and found himself scarcely winded. One benefit of spending several months living at extreme altitude was a substantially higher red-blood-cell count compared to that of a person living and working at lower elevations. So Jack picked up speed but his heart rate didn’t. In fact, the New Mexico high mesa air tasted thick enough to cut with a knife.
The sounds of ATV motors shifting into higher gears suddenly echoed through the wash. Those crazy idiots must have ridden the all-terrain vehicles right over the bridge, and they’re in the wash, Jack thought. There was no way they could keep ahead of the rangers on those four-wheeled machines.
The formation of cliffs featured a number of overhanging ledges anchored precariously by a sandstone base, weathered thin over hundreds of years. It wouldn’t take much to block the wash, he thought. If I could break one of those ledges free.
Jack stopped and studied the near-vertical sandstone wall. He leapt upward, grabbing at the first ledge with his fingertips. Once he had a firm grip, he pulled himself up to the lower ledge.
Just above, a large and severely eroded overhang appeared nearly ready to collapse on its own. It was only a matter of time before the ledge broke free and slammed to the bottom of the wash.
Jack dropped his gear pack and dug into it for a cam. When he found the right one, he lodged the wedge-like device into a crack at eye level above the fragile ledge. He pulled out a length of climbing line and slid it through the cam. Jack looped the line around his body and tied it off in a temporary harness. He free-climbed up from the ledge, stopping every three of four feet to feed a little more line through his homemade belay. When he’d climbed eight feet above the ledge, Jack closed his eyes and jumped.
He felt the sensation of weightlessness for a moment as his feet left the safety of the rock. His eyes didn’t focus on the ledge, but at the bottom of the wash. From this height, a fall would be fatal.
His feet hit the ledge and his legs instantly buckled. Jack hoped to absorb most of the impact, but the forces created when his feet hit the rock caused his knees to bend, leaving his chin headed for a violent collision with his right kneecap. At the instant the cleft of his chin touched his fragile patella, the sandstone ledge fractured and sheared cleanly away from the cliff.
Jack began to pass out as blood spurted out of the inside of his lip. He struggled to maintain consciousness and hold on to the climbing line. If he released it, the rope would slide through the cam, and he would fall to the bottom of the wash along with several tons of sandstone.
The air rushed from his lungs as the makeshift harness tightened around his body. Jack swung over the wash in the harness several times, holding tightly to the end of the rope. When his head cleared, he allowed the line to slide though his hands, and he touched down on the sand. The former overhang now lay in the wash, forming a five-foot-high collection of boulders and rubble that would stop even the most nimble all-terrain-vehicle driver.
Now we’re all on equal ground, he thought with grim satisfaction.
CHAPTER 13
“We got rangers on our ass!” Marko yelled.
“Where?” Garrett asked.
The young climber bent over, breathing hard. “I passed Leah about half a mile back.” He drew in two more deep breaths. “She told me to run ahead, to warn you.”
Juan shouted through the driver’s side window. “Get in the truck!”
Garrett and Marko dived in just as Juan dumped the clutch, and a mixture of blue smoke and sand exploded out from behind the Blazer. The truck unexpectedly lurched sideways.
“Watch out,” Garrett said. He grabbed for the dash as Juan wrestled the wheel to keep the vehicle from crashing into a three-meter-deep ravine next to the wash Garrett pointed toward a figure running through the arroyo. “There’s Leah.”
Her eyes registered both fear and relief as Juan brought the Blazer to a sudden stop. Garrett jumped out and grabbed her arm. “Where’s Jack?”
“I don’t know,” she said between breaths.
“Turn the truck around,” Garrett ordered. “I’m going to look for Jack.”
Jack’s knee throbbed but he couldn’t afford to slow down. He gritted his teeth and pushed through the pain. He ran through two more twists and turns on the wash and nearly ran smack into Garrett.
“How far behind are the rangers?” Garrett asked.
“I slowed them, but not by much,” Jack gasped. He wrapped his arm around Garrett’s shoulder, and they ran with his injured leg held off the ground. “How far away is the truck?”
“Just around the bend,” Garrett said.
Jack looked up and saw Juan backing the Blazer up the wash, his head and shaggy ponytail visible through the driver’s side window. He let go of Garrett and sprinted toward the open passenger door, ignoring the pain. He dived into the back seat, and Garrett jumped into the front seat and slammed the door shut just as Juan punched the accelerator to the floor.
The two rangers rounded the corner; one raised a black object to shoulder level.
“He’s going to shoot,” Leah shouted. She ducked while Jack glanced out through the Blazer’s rear window in time to see the ranger take aim.
Jack put his hands up in an instinctive attempt to deflect the bullets.
Juan spun the steering wheel, and the truck careened around a corner and out of view of the rangers.
“Were they shooting at us?” Juan asked incredulously.
“Kind of,” Jack said. He winced as his knee hit the driver’s seat. “With a camera and telephoto.” He wiped stinging sweat from his eyes. “All they have to do is run the plate number.”
“Unless his camera takes X-ray pictures, it won’t do them much good,” Juan answered. He held up a bent and rusted New Mexico State license plate. “I usually remove it when we get off road — just as a precaution.”
Jack remained solemn.
“What’s wrong?” Juan asked. “There’s no way the feds are going to ID this old wreck. The desert is filled with four-wheel trucks on their last mile.”
“I’m not worried about the Blazer,” Jack said. “He had a clear shot at my face.”
Juan glanced into the rearview mirror. “The Blazer burns so much oil, I doubt he got any more than a huge puff of blue smoke along with a large helping of desert dust.”
“Well,” Garrett asked. “Did you learn anything worth risking our lives for?”
“Yes, I did,” Jack replied, “and it ought to scare the shit out of you.”
CHAPTER 14
Juan drove toward the dirt-strip airport where Garrett’s Cessna remained tied down. He pulled up next to the single-engine plane, shut off the Blazer’s wheezing V8 engine, and they all piled out.
“I think that’s just about enough adventure for one day,” Juan said, glancing around the airport for signs they were followed out of the park. “I think we’re in the clear, but Marko and I ought to get out of this area quick.”
“You think the rangers will be hunting for us?” asked Marko.
“No doubt,” Garrett replied. “That’s the last time we’ll see the inside of the dwelling.” He put a hand lightly on Leah’s shoulder. “I’m really sorry. I know how much that find meant to you.”