Corrie looked at her blankly for a moment. Then, understanding blossomed in her face. She, too, glanced at their guard, but he remained mesmerized by the frenzied activity of loading the treasure. He wasn’t considering the possibility of another

exit behind him.

Nobody had considered it.

Nora nudged Skip, then started slowly edging backward, into the shadows. The other two followed suit.

“Go!” whispered Nora.

They turned and slipped into the darkness, moving as silently as possible, and then running. Once it became too dark to see, Skip pulled out his lighter and briefly flicked it on. In the wavering light, Nora could now make out the rear of the chamber: a blank wall of stone. She felt a sudden despair. But no; about eight feet up was a single small opening. They rushed toward it and, noiselessly, Nora helped Corrie up first, then Skip. They grasped her hands and pulled her up behind them. Skip flicked the lighter on again, and they ran at a crouch down a low stone passageway. There were no branching tunnels. In a few minutes they saw, looming up before them, a sloping heap of rocks—the tunnel ahead was blocked.

And now shouts echoed down the passageway, the voices distorted. These were followed by shots. Their escape had been discovered.

“Move these rocks!” Nora cried.

They scrambled to the top of the pile and began shifting rocks, pulling them from the top and sending them rolling down. Behind them, there was more shouting, growing closer now.

Suddenly, Nora felt a rush of cool air, and a patch of stars appeared above the rock pile. Pulling out several more rocks created an opening large enough for them to wriggle through. Nora went first, then helped pull Corrie and Skip out onto a steep hillside.

Gunfire erupted again, and Nora could hear rounds smacking and ricocheting off the rocks.

“We have to block it!” she said.

As she picked up a nearby rock, intent on jamming it into the hole, Nora noticed a much larger boulder, perched on the hillside half a dozen feet above the hole. Corrie saw it at the same time. “Let’s use that!” she cried, climbing up and positioning herself, feet first, to push. Nora and Skip grappled with it, trying desperately to keep it from moving in the wrong direction, and at last the boulder shifted, then rolled, thudding to rest in the hole and filling it like a countersunk screw.

They could hear more gunfire and shouting filtering up through the stone.

“Let’s go!” Nora cried, and the others followed her down the hill. There was no moon, but the starlight was so bright in the high desert air they could see just enough to navigate. At the bottom of the hill they paused.

“Where now?” Corrie asked.

“Into the mountains,” said Skip. “They’ve got soldiers. They’re going to be sending up drones. Out in the desert, exposed, we’ll be dead meat.”

He led the way from the base of the hill, across a hollow, to the opening of a ravine that headed into the mountains, now and then using his lighter to help illuminate their way. As they moved into the ravine, Nora glanced back and could see several lights dancing along the base of the treasure hill.

“They’re coming after us,” Nora said.

“Of course,” said Skip. “All that gold is useless to them if we survive to talk about it.”

“We’d better lose the tail, do something unforeseen,” Corrie said, looking around. “Like … climb up this cliff.”

“Are you kidding?” Skip said. “I can’t even see the top.”

Nora looked up. The cliff was black as night, no detail at all. They’d have to feel their way up it. It seemed crazy—but they were short of options.

“I’ll go first,” Nora said, and before she could think better of it she laid a hand on the rough rock, found a handhold, then a second, secured a foothold, and pulled herself up. “Skip, you follow me. Do what I do.”

“I’m not going up that,” said Skip. “No way. Not doing it.”

She pulled herself up another step, and another. “Corrie will help you.”

“Get going,” said Corrie in an unfriendly tone.

“Jesus, just give me a moment.”

Nora glanced over her shoulder. Corrie was bending down, murmuring and helping Skip place his hands on handholds, then one foot, then another. He hoisted himself up with a grunt.

“Go slow,” warned Nora.

She turned and continued climbing, waiting between each move for Skip to catch up. It was a horrible sensation: clinging to a sheer wall of darkness, feeling around for each handhold, unable to see how high the cliff was—or where this nightmare would end.

58

WATTS TOOK A deep breath, as if consciously enjoying the sensation of inhaling sweet, fresh air. Morwood realized that was exactly what he was doing—in case it was destined to be his last. Then he vaulted out from their place of cover and sprinted to the next building, scooping up one of the dead men’s firearms as he went. Morwood followed a moment later, grabbing a weapon as well. No shots were fired, and they peered out. The old main street was deserted, with no sign of Bellingame. The two pickup trucks were still in position, headlights pointing at right angles.

“We’ve got to cover those trucks,” said Morwood. “And I’m sure he’s doing the same.”

Watts checked the gun, a Beretta 9mm. He ejected the magazine, then swore. “One round in the mag, one in the chamber.” He reinserted it.