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“Wow! You guys did it,” said Barb. “Where did you find those bags?”
“They were back there. I think that’s all there is, but it’s burning good,” smiled Adelaide.
“It is,” laughed her aunt. “Look, I caught two big trout. Let’s have dinner.”
With their bellies full, the girls curled into a ball and fell asleep next to their aunt. The fire was still glowing, filling the small cave with warmth and a soft pink hue. Barb stared at the fire, then reached for a piece of paper. It was the corner of a twenty-dollar bill.
“What on earth?” She stared at it but was too tired to question their good fortune. “Someone must have left their clothing and had some cash in there. Well, whoever you are, thank you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
It was nearly noon before it was safe enough to attempt to climb the ledges again. The climbing gear, ropes, and other equipment had been dropped just as Code and Sly promised. They’d even included instant coffee packets, jerky, energy bars, and a few other little treasures.
“Sweet,” smirked Miller, opening a canister.
“You are not going to make anything explode in a national park,” frowned his older brother.
“They sent it to me. Obviously, they think I’ll need it.”
“No,” said Gaspar. Ivan took the canister from his hands and grinned.
“I’ll just hold this for safekeeping.”
“We have a problem,” said Zeke, entering the cave.
“What the fuck now?” asked Nine.
“A woman and her twin nieces are missing. They were camping and hiking and apparently got lost. They were supposed to be back at the ranger station two days ago.”
“Shit. Do we know if they’re in the general area?” asked Ghost.
“Unfortunately, yes. The kids have trackers on them that go back to their parents’ phones, but they’re in Europe. The signals are going in and out, but they were last pinged at Devil’s Ravine.”
“Which is that way,” said Ian, pointing to the ravine below.
“Shit!”
“Let’s go,” said Trak. “We need to find those men before they find the woman and kids.”
The trails were still dangerous, but each of the men knew what they were doing and used their equipment to their advantage. Below them, in the ravine, the river was raging as if taking its name to heart. It looked like the devil was pissed, and the water was showing it.
Around mid-morning, in the eleventh cave they’d entered, they discovered remnants of a fire and a few fish bones. The ashes were still warm, and it appeared that only adult footprints were inside the cave.
“Looks like they spent the night here,” said Zeke. “No kids, so it has to be our convicts unless there are two more people lost out here.”
“Why the fuck are there so many caves?” frowned Ian.
“They were homes when the land belonged to the indigenous people,” said Zeke. “Cliff dwellers are known in many cultures. We’ve seen a handful in countries around the world. Think about it. They’re safe, they’re high, they have great views, and other than the entrance, you’re enclosed away from the elements.
“At one time, there were thousands throughout the West and Southwest. Many were on sheer cliff faces that were only accessible through rope ladders that were lowered when someone needed to go up or down. It kept enemies out, family in. Pretty ingenious.”
“They used what was around them, that’s for damn sure,” said Gaspar. “So, one of these men probably knew about these caves. I mean, would you just stumble on them?”
“It’s a bit more complicated than that now,” said Zeke. “The park services know about the caves and tell tourists about them. They no longer do tours of caves like these because of their proximity to the river and cliff faces, but there are some, like in Bandolier Park in New Mexico, that tourists can still climb into and see what it was like.”
“Zeke, I love how you and Trak have held onto the memories of your culture,” said Mac. “Not many people do that anymore, forgetting where they came from and who their people were.”
“If you forget that,” said Zeke, “you forget yourself. I wouldn’t know who or what else to be if not Zeke Wolfkill, Mohave Apache. Trak, no matter what his childhood looked like, is still Navajo. Don’t fight who you are, Mac.”
