He reached the northern end of the outcropping and wound his way through the brush clustered around its base. When he was within arms reach of the base itself, he looked south along the cliff wall.
“I’ll be damned...”
Carrie hurried to his side. “What? Did you find it? Is it there?”
He guided her in front of him and pointed ahead. Starting a dozen feet behind them and running up the face of the cliff at a thirty-degree angle was a narrow, broken, jagged ledge. It averaged only two feet or so in width.
Carrie whirled and hugged him. “That’s it! You found it! See? All you need is a little faith!” She grabbed his hand and began dragging him from the brush. “Let’s go!”
He followed her at a walk as she ran back to where the ledge slanted into the floor of the canyon floor. By the time he reached it she was already on her way, scrabbling upward along the narrow shelf like a lithe, graceful cat.
“Slow down, Carrie.”
“Speed up, slowpoke!” she laughed.
She’s going to kill herself, he thought as he began his own upward course along the ledge. He glanced down at the jagged rubble on the hard floor of the wadi below and quickly pulled his gaze away. Maybe we’re both going to get killed.
He wasn’t good with heights—not phobic about them, but not the least bit fond of them. He concentrated on staying on the ledge. Shale, sand, and gravel littered the narrow, uneven surface before him, tilting toward the cliff wall for half a dozen feet or so, then a crack or a narrow gap, or a step up or down, then it continued upward, now sloping away from the wall. These away sections were the worse. Dan’s sneakers tended to slip on the sand and he had visions of himself sliding off into—
“Dan!”
A high-pitched squeal of terror from up ahead. He looked up and saw Carrie down on one knee, her right leg dangling over the edge, her fingers clawing at the cliff wall for purchase. She’d climbed back into the sunlight and it looked as if her sharp-edged shadow was trying to push her off.
Dear God!
“Carrie! Hang on!”
He hurried toward her as quickly as he dared but she was back on the ledge and on her feet again by the time he reached her.
“What happened?”
Pale, panting, she leaned against the cliff wall, hugging it. “I slipped, but I’m okay.”
Suddenly he was angry. His heart was pounding, his hands were trembling...
“You almost killed yourself, dammit!”
“Sorry,” she said softly. “That wasn’t my intention, I assure you.”
“Just slow down, will you? I don’t want to lose you.”
That smile. “That’s nice to hear.”
“Here. Let me slide past you and I’ll lead the way.”
“Not a chance. I’ll take my time from here on up.” She held up two fingers. “Promise.”
Carrie kept her word, taking it slow, watching her footing, with Dan close behind. They reached the sunlit summit without another mishap. He glanced around—no one else here, and no place to hide.
“Oh, Lord,” Carrie said, wandering across the top of the tav toward the far edge. “Look at this!”
Dan caught up to her and put an arm around her shoulders, as much from a need to touch her as to stop her from getting too close to the edge. The sun cooked their backs while the desert wind dried the sweat from the climb, and before them stretched the eastern expanse of the Midbar Yehuda, all hills and mounds and shadowed crags, looking like a rumpled yellow-brown blanket after a night of passion, sloping down to where a sliver of the Dead Sea was visible, sparkling in the late afternoon sun.
Breathtaking, Dan thought. This almost makes the whole wild goose chase worthwhile.
Together they turned from the vista and scanned the mini-plateau atop the tav. It ran two hundred feet from the front lip to the rear wall, and was perhaps a hundred and fifty feet wide. And against that rear wall, to the left of center, lay a pile of rocks.
Carrie grabbed his upper arm. He felt her fingers sink into his biceps as she pointed to the rocks.
“Oh, God, Dan! There it is!”
“Just some rocks, Carrie. Doesn’t mean—”
“She’s there, Dan. We’ve found her! We’ve found her!”
She broke from him and dashed across the plateau. Dan hurried after her.
Here it comes, he thought. Here’s where the roof falls in on Carrie’s quest.
By the time he reached the pile, Carrie was on it, scrambling to the top. The jumble stood about eight feet high and she was already at work pulling at the uppermost rocks to dislodge them.
“Easy, Carrie.” Dan climbed to her side and joined her atop the pile. “The last thing we need is for you to slip and sprain an ankle. I have no idea how I’d get you back down.”
“Help me,” Carrie said, breathless with excitement. “She’s just a few feet away. We’re almost there! I can feel it!”
Dan joined her in dislodging the uppermost rocks and letting them roll to the base. The first were on the small side, cantaloupe sized and easy to move. But they quickly graduated to watermelons.
Carrie groaned as she strained against one of the larger stones. “I can’t budge this. Give me a hand, will you?”
Dan got a grip on the edge of the rock and put his back into it and together they got it overbalanced to the point where it tumbled down the pile.
Dan saw even bigger stones below.
“We’re going to need help,” he said, panting and straightening up. The sun was still actively baking the top of the tav rock and he was drenched. “A lever of some sort. We’ll never move those lower rocks by ourselves. Maybe I can find a tree limb or something we can use to—”
“We’ve got to get in!” Tears of frustration welled in her eyes as she looked up at him. “We can’t stop now. Not when we’re this close. We can’t let a bunch of lousy rocks keep us out when we’re so close!”
With the last word she kicked at one of the larger stones directly below her—and cried out in alarm as it gave way beneath her. Dan grabbed her outflung hand and almost lost his own footing as the entire pile shuddered and settled under them with a rumble and a gush of dust.
“You all right?” Dan said, pulling her closer.
She coughed. “I think so. What happened?”
“I’m not sure.” The dust was settling, layering their skin, mixing with their sweat. Even with mud on her face Carrie was beautiful. Over her shoulder, down by Carrie’s feet, Dan saw a dark crescent in the mountain wall. “Oh, Jesus.”
Carrie turned and gasped. “The cave!”
Maybe, Dan thought. Maybe not. The only sure thing about it is it’s a hole in the wall.
But he knew it was the upper rim of a cave mouth. Had to be. Everything else in this elaborate scam had followed true to the forged scroll. Why not the cave too?
But what sort of ugly surprise waited within?
Before he could stop her, Carrie had dropped prone and pushed her face into the opening.
“We left the flashlights in the car,” she was saying. “And I can’t see a thing.”
Quickly he pulled her back. “Are you nuts?”
“What’s the matter?”
“You don’t know what’s in there.”
“What could be in there?”
“How about snakes or scorpions? Or how about bats? It’s a cave, you know.”
“I know that, but—”
“But nothing.” He pulled her to her feet. “You keep your nose out of there while I go get the flashlights.”
“All right,” she said reluctantly as she allowed him to guide her down to the bottom of the pile. “Can’t see anything anyway.”
“Precisely. So you just wait here while I go back to the Explorer.”
“Okay, but hurry.” She squeezed his hand. “Don’t hurry so much you fall, but hurry.”
Dan made the round trip as quickly as he could, hugging the cliff wall all the way, concentrating on the path and not looking down. He did spot another cave in the far wall of the canyon—probably where the fictional author of the scrolls supposedly had lived. He reminded himself to check it out before they left.