Chapter 4
Four
He needed the gold bars secured and the frenzy choking the North Rim ended before another fool got injured—or worse.
No more rescues pulling Meg into danger. No more watching her hands shake as the environment asked her to do the impossible, asked her to save lives with equipment meant for scrapes and twisted ankles.
Noah yanked the zipper on his pack closed, the teeth catching for a second before sliding home.
The sound was sharp in the quiet of the ranger station.
Meg’s rough map was folded neatly in his shirt pocket, the paper warm against his chest. Her careful sketch was incomplete, with question marks and dotted lines marking out as best she could remember. But hopefully it was enough.
Teague clapped him on the shoulder, the impact solid and grounding. His grin was wide under the brim of his cap, infectious as always. His auburn hair stuck out from the edges in unruly tufts that no amount of hat-wearing could tame. “Ready to play treasure hunter, boss?”
Liam tested his headlamp, clicking it through the settings from low to high, then added it to the side pocket of his pack. His face was set in those focused lines Noah recognized from too many tight spots. “If we grab this, then we’ll be one step closer to being left in peace.”
The guy had been more serious since a couple weeks ago when all this treasure-hunting nonsense started, the lightness gone from his usual banter. Maybe it was that he had a reason to stay safe now with Nimue in the picture. Or maybe it was also…
Noah met Liam’s gaze and caught the shadow there. “You know none of this is your fault, right?”
“In theory.” Liam shrugged, the movement stiff and uncomfortable. His blue eyes were distant. “But if I had been more careful, then Brian would never have seen the gold and—”
“Enough of that.” Noah clipped his radio to his belt. “Your focus was on keeping Nimue safe, saving her. That’s exactly where it should’ve been.”
And now he needed to keep Meg safe.
Not that it was the same. He and Meg weren’t together, weren’t anything official. But with the memory of her curled in his arms last week—her weight against him, her tears soaking through his shirt, the way she’d trembled—he knew he’d do whatever it took to keep her safe as well.
Noah handed a radio to Liam, then Teague. “We don’t have a lot of time. Straight shot to the cave. Get the gold. Get out. No risks.”
They both nodded, both their faces serious now.
He led them out to the Jeep, the engine rumbling to life. They drove to the lesser-known trailhead—a tough, steep path but the quickest to the entrance. Then, without more conversation, they hiked through the sunbaked trails and pushed themselves to the limit.
Forty minutes later at the cave mouth, with their lungs burning and shirts dark with sweat, the jagged opening loomed—narrower than before, as if the mountain was closing its mouth. Fresh rubble piled at the base from the last collapse.
Noah pulled out the map and unfolded it under the harsh midday light. “Meg marked the chamber here. Hopefully we’re done with the aftershocks and everything’s settled. But keep your eyes and ears open.”
Liam shone his flashlight into the dark, the LED beam cutting through floating dust motes. Then he eyed the rock faces around the entrance. “Looks like the place had another party without us. A few new long cracks since we were here last.”
Hairline fractures spiderwebbed across the sandstone face.
Not good.
One at a time, they ducked in and left the blazing sunlight behind.
Noah hunched his broad frame through the entrance, his shoulders scraping sandstone.
The air turned cooler against his skin. The passage tightened and forced them to sidestep some newly fallen boulders.
Noah’s boots crunched over loose gravel, with each step echoing in the confined space.
About fifteen feet in, the passage opened into the main chamber.
Noah’s light hit the stained ground where Lydia had been—dark patches that made his stomach turn—then the spot Meg had described, behind a boulder and tucked in shadows.
He moved forward with his heart rate picking up. “This is it.”
Liam crouched beside him and cleared the loose debris. “Nothing. Just rock.”
Teague swept his beam wider. “She said what she saw was angular, solid. Boxlike. Maybe it shifted in the last fall.”
Liam pointed his light at the rock formation in front of him. “This looks pretty boxy. I can see it looking like a chest from twenty feet away in dim light.”
Noah walked over and inspected the rock, then ran his hand across the surface. Cold. Rough. Definitely stone.
Liam was right. It could easily be confused with a box from a distance, especially with adrenaline pumping and limited visibility.
A low rumble vibrated through the stone beneath their feet. Dust sifted from above and coated their hair.
Noah froze, his hand shooting up. “Hold.”
Liam braced against the wall with his palms flat against cold stone and his eyes wide. “Not again. I thought we were done with the aftershocks.”
Rocks tumbled from a ledge and crashed down in a cascade at the far end of the cave. Dust choked the air. Noah coughed, doubled over, and covered his mouth with the crook of his elbow. Through watering eyes, he checked his team. “Everyone good?”
Teague wiped grit from his eyes with the back of his hand and nodded. “Close. Too close.”
Noah stood with his muscles tense. He brushed off his shirt. “Time to call it. But this place…It’s a trap waiting for the next rogue group.”
“Seal it. Permanently.” Teague pulled out his water bottle and downed a gulp. “Dynamite the entrance. Post warnings. End the temptation.”
“If it were only that simple.” Sealing would mean safety and would cut off the risk to idiots chasing stories. But this was a national park. Preservation was a high priority too. “They’ll probably need an environmental-impact study done. Nothing happens fast when the government’s in charge.”
As they made their way back out, Noah’s mind turned to Meg, safe at the clinic, probably elbow-deep in paperwork or treating some tourist’s sunburn.
If people kept wandering into places like this, she’d soon be patching up the next wave. Or worse, trying to save them when it was already too late.
He’d promised himself no more losses. Yet here he was, inches from disaster again.
At the entrance, sunlight pierced the dust as they emerged. Noah unclipped his radio and squinted against the glare. “Base, this is Wilde. Cave’s clear, but no chest. Instability’s worse—recommending permanent seal.”
The radio crackled. Eden’s voice came through. “Copy that. We’ve got dehydrated hikers on the trail. Pushed too far. No water. Need extraction. Sending location now.”
His sat phone pinged. He tapped it and estimated the time it would take. “On our way. Any details?”
“Three adults. One kid. Heat exhaustion setting in.”
Liam cracked a grin. He wiped his brow with his forearm. “From cave divers to desert taxis. Versatile, aren’t we?”
Noah folded the map roughly and stowed it. The cave mouth mocked them from behind. “Let’s move.”
An hour later, with their legs burning from the pace, they found the coordinates. “This was their last location. Eyes open. They could be anywhere off trail.”
Liam scanned the horizon with binoculars. “There—movement. Quarter mile out under a rock overhang.”
At least they’d thought to seek shade.
They pushed forward. The kid’s cries carried on the wind as they closed in. A family huddled in scant shade with flushed faces and cracked lips. The boy, maybe eight years old, slumped against his mother’s side.
Noah lifted his hand as he approached. “Park rangers. We heard you needed some help.”
Teague and Liam pulled water bottles from their packs and started passing them around.
The father took a bottle, his hands shaking badly. “Thought we had enough. Got turned around.”
Teague started checking pulses. “Dehydrated, but alert. We’ll get them back slow.”
Noah peeled off his hat and dropped it on the kid’s head. Liam radioed base to update them.
An hour later they were halfway back.
Noah’s radio buzzed again—Eden’s voice cutting through. “Wilde, report from a patrol: fresh tracks at Tapeats.”
Noah’s blood ran cold.
Those could very well be their tracks from this morning. Or…more treasure hunters who didn’t know what they were walking into. Either way, he needed to find Virgil and get him to rush the approval to seal the cave before someone else died in there.
Teague fell in beside Noah. “Seal it tomorrow?”
Noah nodded. But doubt gnawed at the back of his mind. No way they’d be allowed to just collapse the entrance without permits and studies. “At the very least, we need to put something there to be a strong deterrent. Even if it isn’t permanent at this point.”
Another rumble echoed—distant. Avalanche? Thunder?
The dark clouds on the horizon hinted at the latter. It was a little too reminiscent of the storm that ran through last month, the one that had the canyon running with flash floods.
He quickened the pace and encouraged the family with gentle words. The last thing they needed was to get stuck down here in a deluge.
When they got to the top, Noah’s phone vibrated with a text from Meg.
Meg
Heard about the hikers. Need me?
His thumb hovered over reply.
Did he need her?
Nothing simple about that question.
Noah
After a fair amount of water, they seem to be alright.
Meg
Let me know if that changes.
Any luck with the chest?
Noah
No. It was a box-shaped rock.
Three dots appeared on the screen. Then disappeared. Then again.
Meg
I don’t think we’re talking about the same thing.
Noah
I’m going back tomorrow to hopefully seal the entrance. I’ll look again.
Meg
I’ll go.
Noah
No.
If she was sure of what she saw, maybe he did need her to go, needed her eyes to find what they’d missed. But he refused to consider it.
No amount of gold was worth her risking her life again. Not for two million dollars, not for twenty.
Meg
I can handle it.
Noah
I know you can. But I can’t let you go in there.
Meg
NOAH!