Five minutes later, Leah held her hand out for Garrett as he scrambled over the lip of the sub-cavern. “So,” she said, “we climbing those ropes or what?”
“We found an entry at the rear of the cavern,” Garrett said. “Sealed but not impassable… much to Juan’s relief, I might add.”
“I’m not too big a man to admit it,” Juan said with a smile.
“Pull up and stow the climbing lines, Marko,” Leah said. “The sooner they’re out of view the better.”
Garrett shone his light on a large opening at the rear of the cavern, still sealed tight with adobe clay. “Guess they didn’t have any plans to return.”
“That’s odd,” Leah said. “Someone took the time to seal the cavern.”
“The last one out locks the door and turns out the light?” Juan said.
“You wouldn’t leave all those tools and pottery unless you thought you’d be coming back,” Garrett said.
“I don’t think they were coming back,” Leah said.
Juan glanced over. “Why?”
“This place is a mess; did you notice? Pottery scattered, much of it shattered. If they were coming back, they’d have taken it with them or it would have been stacked neatly inside the dwelling. These finished pots were priceless in their day. It’d be like leaving home with nothing but the clothes on your back. No, I think they left in a hurry, and not because they wanted to.”
“If they weren’t coming back, why seal the entrance?” Marko asked.
Leah turned back toward the dwelling. “Those pictographs were painted for a reason, it’s possible they wanted to seal the dwelling to preserve or record their experiences here.”
Thunder boomed so loud that adobe dust fell like a fine mist from the dwelling.
“We’ve got all night to talk this out over beers,” Juan said. “Right now, we’ve got to get out asses out of here in one piece.”
Garrett and Juan carved away at the adobe wall with two collapsible shovels, chopping through the clay until they had an opening nearly a meter in diameter. Bolts of lightning lit a twisting passageway that led to the top of the mesa.
“When you get to the surface, find cover right away,” Garrett said. “Wicked storm clouds inbound.”
Leah gave Garrett a sideways and hoisted her gear bag. “See you on top.”
Garrett reached out and lightly grabbed her arm. The grin had disappeared. “I mean it, Leah. Get under a rock, a ledge — any shelter you can find.”
“I understand. You just make sure Juan doesn’t get stuck.”
“Up you go.” He watched her climb through the rock for a moment. “You ready, Juan.”
“You’re sure I’m gonna fit?”
“Shitty time to find out.”
Juan stuck his head through, and Garrett helped him work his wide shoulders past the newly cut exit. “I’m clear,” he said with more than a little relief.
“You heard what I told Leah,” Garrett cautioned. “Get to cover when you reach the surface.” Garrett turned and looked at Marko. “I’m sending you with most of the equipment.”
“What about the rope anchor — on the tree?”
“I’ll get it.” Garrett grabbed his equipment bag and crawled through the narrow opening. The sounds of thunder and the smell of the ozone-rich air intensified as he climbed over the boulders toward the mesa. He looked up after a few minutes to find the surface only a few meters above. Water from the cloudburst poured into the passageway before diverting into an eroded natural culvert leading down to the cliff wall.
Leah, Juan, and Marko huddled under a wide overhanging rocky ledge near the cavern’s exit point. Garrett bolted out through the opening and ran toward the cliff. He worked Marko’s knots free and stuffed the straps and the rings in his gear pack.
Suddenly air sizzled, followed by a blinding flash that obscured Leah’s view of Garrett for a split second. Garrett sprinted for the rock ledge where the others had taken cover.
“Think you were toast when that bolt came down?” Juan asked.
“Let’s just say I felt the hands of my ancestors for a second.” He tried pulling his backpack off. “Oops, I’m hung up.”
Juan chuckled. “If that’s your ancestors, you pissed them off plenty.” He yanked the pack off Garrett’s shoulder and turned it around. The nylon still smoldered from the near lightning strike. Even the zippers had been bent and twisted into painfully unnatural shapes.
Leah glanced at the sky and then shouldered her pack while climbing out from under the rock. “Let’s get out of here before we get caught in a flash flood.”
CHAPTER 4
The sign hung askew over the top of the Silver City, New Mexico, storefront. The white paint, peeling off the wood, had yellowed with age and disrepair.
Jim Dixon’s Precious Stones and Lucky Strike Tavern.
Leah glanced up at the sign. “Do a little rock shopping and then celebrate your purchase over a cocktail….”
Juan peeked into the bar and grinned. “I like it.”
The only patron was also the bartender. He sat on the customer side of the bar, sipping on a mug of draft beer. “Come on in. Beer’s cold and we’re not known to bite.”
Leah glanced into the rock shop through a connecting door. The store appeared empty, except for the rocks and fossils displayed in glass cases or hanging from the walls. “Are you Jim?”
The bartender smiled and shook his head. “I just fill in for Jimmy when we get a load of tourists in looking at rock.” He pointed down toward the end of the street. “He’ll be back in a minute; walked down to the bank.” He slid off the stool and walked around behind the bar.
“We’ll take a look at the rock store, if that’s okay,” Leah told him.
“Are you folks here to buy or sell?”
Leah stiffened. “We’re looking for information, that’s all.”
The bartender winked. “You found yourself a little stash of fossil and want to get a price?” He lowered his voice. “It’s all right. Jimmy pays top dollar and he don’t talk much neither.”
Garrett lightly touched Leah’s elbow, guiding her out of the bar and into the shop.
The bartender called after them, “Come on back and have a beer before you leave.”
Leah studied the rare fossils displayed under glass. “You think he really buys fossils from the parks?”
“Possibly….” Garrett looked over a few of the pieces on display. “Doubt he’d admit it to us, though. We might be working undercover for the Park Service.”
“Can I help you folks with something?” A tall, thin man with short-cut brown hair and a face worn by hours working in the desert sun removed his sunglasses and Australian-style bush hat.
Leah raised one eyebrow. “You Jimmy?”
He laid a leather-sided briefcase down beside the glass counter and nodded. “Are you interested in fossils? Minerals? I even have a few pieces of Trinitite in the back room.”
“Trinitite?” Leah asked.
Dixon nodded. “When they lit off that first atomic bomb back in ’45’ it was so hot the blast melted the sand into a blue-green glass. One old rock hound living nearby collected a whole bunch of it before they bulldozed ten feet of sand over the blast zone.”
The look of disgust on Leah’s face left no doubt that she was not interested in that glowing piece of history.
“Cool,” Marko said. “Radioactive?”
Dixon dismissed the question with a wave of his hand.
Leah stepped forward. “What we need is help identifying a chunk of granite.” She pulled one of the crystals from her pocket.
Dixon examined the stone. “Granite for sure, but I don’t ever recall seeing it with this much feldspar.”