Page 26 of Gone
“What’s wrong?” asked Miller. Trak pointed below them to a body lying on the rocks.
“Shit,” muttered Nine. “Is that Rusty James?”
“I think so,” nodded Trak. “His face is unrecognizable. He probably hit a rock headfirst.”
“I’ll let Sly and Code know the coordinates so that he can send them to the rangers or the bureau. They should be able to get a chopper and come and get him,” said Kane. He walked toward a quiet location, speaking in low, hushed tones to the two men back at base camp.
“Should I go down and bring him up?” asked Zeke.
“It seems the right thing to do,” said Gaspar. “Those kids owe him their lives. He damn sure doesn’t deserve to be lying down there.”
Forming a human chain along the ridge, the men were able to lower Zeke to the rocks below and pull him and the dead body up.
James’ body was a mass of broken bones, no doubt from being slammed into every boulder along the raging river.
Mac kneeled beside the man, pushing the hair from his forehead in order to snap a photo so the agents could be sure it was him. As he did, he stilled.
“Oh shit,” he muttered. “I don’t think our boy died from the rocks, although I’m sure that didn’t help.”
The men looked over the dead body, seeing what Mac was looking at. A bullet hole in the center of his forehead. It looked as though Frank and Tommy found their friend and gave him a true prison welcome. Or farewell.
“Now we can add another murder to their crimes,” said Miller. They could hear the helicopter in the distance, coming their way.
“You guys go,” said Juan. “I’ll stay and help to get the body loaded on the chopper.”
“I’ll stay as well,” said Pork. “We’ll explain to them what happened and ride with the body. We’ll catch you guys back at camp.”
“Thanks for doing that,” said Zeke. “The guy didn’t deserve to die that way.”
As the men continued on, Juan and Pork moved toward a large boulder just a short distance from the body. Sitting so that they were easily seen, their hands empty, they waited while the chopper found a landing place.
Frank and Tommy might not know it, but they were about to meet their worst nightmare.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“I thought you said it was this cave,” growled Tommy.
“I thought it was, dickhead,” said Frank. “It’s been eight years since we dumped this shit. Someone could have found it.”
“No one found it. It would have been all over the news if they had,” said Tommy. “Besides, no one would have been able to reach this.”
“First off, anyone who found the money wouldn’t have been stupid enough to tell everyone about it. If they were, they deserve what’s coming to them. Second, if we’re able to reach these fucking caves, someone else could too. Hell, there are still Indians wandering around the cliffs.”
“It’s not an old western, Frank. They don’t live up here any longer. The only things in these caves are bears and wolves.”
“Fucking bears and wolves didn’t eat the damn money,” snapped Frank. “It’s not this cave. We have to keep moving.”
“Fine. Fine, but let’s make one thing perfectly clear. You might have been able to ditch the other three, but you and I are in this together. You try to shoot me like you did Rusty, I’ll fucking kill you,” said Tommy.
Frank just stared at the other man, then nodded.
“I hear you, Tommy. Right back atcha.”
They carefully walked the ledge of the ravine, not trusting one another enough to assist. At one point, Tommy was on his hands and knees, skirting the narrow rock path.
Each time they entered a cave, they were disappointed, finding nothing. They all looked exactly the same to them. Just big, empty caves with rock walls, dirt floors, spiders, and other shit.
They could hear the thunder outside and stared at one another.
