He straightened up quickly and turned around.
“Who’s there?” Marco asked forcefully. He was getting scared. Ever since he first set eyes on the frozen man he’d been having strange sensations of someone following him.
As he swung the light around, he drew his knife and held it out before him.
“Come out you son of a bitch. Let Marco teach you a lesson.”
It might have worked in the toughest barrios back home, but out here he didn’t know with whom he was dealing. There were large black outcroppings of rock the beam couldn’t reach, and for a moment Marco thought he saw a shadow crouching on top of one. He grabbed the sled handle and pulled it closer to him.
“If you don’t want any trouble, go back to where you came from. I’m sure your mama still has some warm milk waiting for you in her big ugly tits.”
Marco stood still, waiting to catch the slightest movement. He was quickly growing tired of this game. He soon convinced himself that the stalker was a figment of his imagination, a product of his growing paranoia.
You’re going to fuck this up if you don’t stay focused...
Marco shrugged the phantoms off with a tight smile. He turned away from the rock outcropping to gaze at the sled packed with gold.
He was going to be rich. Not filthy rich but damn close. A year from now he’d be sitting on a perfect white sand beach with a bucket of Coronas just like they did in the television commercials. He’d be living under a different name and would have almost as many women at hand as he did chilled beers.
Shots rang out, echoing against the rock and ice.
Marco fell forward onto the sled, struck in the back, while blood-tipped feathers from his down jacked took flight into the night air. He rolled over, groaning. He tried to sit up but the pain was too intense. A few minutes later he saw the figures of two men walking up the slope toward him, their faces obscured by puffs of steam.
Who were they?
Marco knew he was dying. Death had been following him, annoying him all day with its dark hands reaching from the edges. He’d dismissed the inky clots in his peripheral vision as something to do with sun glare and tired retinas. Instead of focusing solely and recklessly on the gold he should have paid more attention to his senses. If he had known in time, then maybe he could have protected himself in the way his great aunt had once taught him.
Now it was too late. Maybe back in the barrios of home he would have had a chance to go down with machismo, taken out a couple of murdering thugs with him and left a lasting impression on the neighborhood. But here, high up on a mountain, he wasn’t even going to get the satisfaction. Because in a country he’d so easily charmed his way around, some fucking cabron had decided to shoot him with a rifle.
Legs trembling badly, he dug his heels into the ice and kicked away, forcing his body and the sled over the edge of the crevasse. For even in death Marco did not plan to share…
CHAPTER 58
They could have waited and picked off the thieves as they emerged from the crevasse, but Marsh no longer had the patience. And besides, there weren’t a lot of hours left until sunrise. Using the ropes already set in place by Marco, the four men climbed down to the lighted ice shelf below.
Halfway down into the glacier they found a loaded sled jammed into a tight crevasse. It would take some time pulling out. Chester set about lowering himself down to it so he could attach a line. The other three followed the trail of glow sticks leading to the shrine. Marsh forced Robert to walk in front of them so he could test the safety of the ice.
****
Carol and her crew had heard a crash but assumed it was the glacial ice adjusting itself. The eyes of the man who’d come out of the ice had stared up at her, giving her the creeps before Marco tossed a canvas sheet over him. Carol thought there was something obscene about hacking the corpse out of the ice like they did, despite Marco’s assurances he’d be put back as soon as they were finished.
The whole idea wasn’t setting right with her. Even though she had no idea who the man once was, Carol felt guilty about leaving him behind, as if they were somehow violating his right to be known to the world again. But as Marco had pointed out, the frozen man was dead and they were not. He would never be able to buy a new life with his treasure, but they could.
It made perfect sense. But still…
As much as she liked Marco, Carol had been recently unsure of how much longer she wanted their affair to last. She knew the only way he’d be able to stay in the country would be if she married him, and she wasn’t prepared for that. There were lingering feelings for her ex-husband needing to be sorted out and she didn’t like the fact that Marco still wasn’t as open about his life as she had been with him. He could sometimes be very touchy about his past if she pressed him about it. At first she’d thought it was kind of thrilling to wonder what he was hiding from her. Now it had simply become an annoyance.
“This is the last of it. Let’s get out of here,” one of her students said as he hoisted on his backpack and lumbered out with the final load of gold. But a few moments later he was backing into the shrine with his arms raised in front of him, pleading with Marsh and Billy not to shoot.
“Just stay calm college boy. We aren’t going to hurt you,” Billy said.
“What’s going on?” Carol shouted. She stepped forward and put herself between her student and the two rifle barrels.
Where the hell was Marco?
“We’re here to take what belongs to us,” Marsh said.
“The gold doesn’t belong to you,” Carol said. “We were here first. Now go away and leave us alone.”
Robert edged between the two men so she could see his face. He saw her eyes sweep over his bruises and scrapes, watched as she realized he couldn’t be there voluntarily. Would she trust him?
“Let them have what they’ve come for,” Robert told her.
“What?” Carol stared at him, confused. Then Marsh whipped around and struck Robert in the face with his rifle stock, causing him to crumple to the ground. Marsh glared down at him and spat on the ice.
“Don’t you ever interfere with my business again, Crain.”
Carol screamed, and the others began to shout at Marsh to stop.
His face a bloody mess, Robert pried his head up from the ice to warn them before he saw the legs of Marsh and Billy move past him and suddenly his ears were deafened by the thunder of rifles exploding, white flashes and the screams of people hopelessly trying to seek cover. Robert covered his face and choked. A cordite cloud hung in the air like fog, burning his eyes and throat.
Robert wasn’t sure how long he’d passed out. It was eerily quiet as the cloud oozed out of the room, revealing the carnage left behind. He felt Marsh and Billy grab him from under his arms and drag him across the shrine through an obstacle course of dead bodies before they dropped him hard onto the bloody mirror of ice.
“Holy shit,” he heard Marsh say after he’d removed the canvass from Maynard’s frozen remains. Robert tried opening his eyes but everything was way too blurry when he attempted to focus. He lowered his head upon the cooling sheet of blood and felt himself begin to drift off once again.
“Sure is an ugly son of a bitch,” Billy said as he moved to get a better look at Maynard. “I wonder how long ago he died down here?”
Marsh stared into the face he sometimes saw when Jared Horn’s ghost was really messing with his head. A grin spread slowly across his blistered mouth while his eyes danced like moths trapped inside a hot lantern.
At last…
“What is it Walker?”
Marsh didn’t hear Billy at all, and glanced around at the ceiling of the shrine, laughing with nervous relief. It was fucking over. After all this bullshit the time had finally come to collect his paycheck and head for Reno, maybe find a plastic surgeon to patch him up before he went on a binge of drinking and whoring. Even god won’t be able to save the world from me now!