Chapter 12 #2
Thank Christ. The incline was shallow, but it was there.
Behind me, Charlie went quiet. Not the practical, thinking kind of quiet. The scared kind. The same silence my sister Cassidy slipped into when Dad was in one of his moods.
Doug was the opposite, panting like a cornered animal with ragged, wet breaths.
The tunnel narrowed further, barely wide enough for my shoulders. Water swirled around our legs, but lower, as we trudged up the incline.
"I can't see a damn thing," Doug muttered.
"It's so dark," Charlie added.
I fished the lighter from my jeans pocket.
I hoped the cheap lighter still worked after the dunking it had taken.
I thumbed the flint, and the flame flared to life, trembling at the tip.
Golden light danced over jagged stone walls and dark crevices.
The walls wobbled as if they were breathing, but the glow was enough to see a few feet ahead.
"Oh, thank God, you have that," Charlie said behind me.
I kept the flame high, pushing back the dark, because no amount of training had ever killed that cold finger of panic that traced down my spine when the shadows got too close.
Behind us, the hiss of surging water echoed up the passage as if the damn thing was a snake chasing us.
Doug stumbled, crashing through the water like a wounded cow. "We're trapped, aren't we?" he muttered.
"Shut up and keep moving," I snapped, not looking back.
The incline increased, and we were no longer sloshing through ankle-deep water. The stone beneath my boots turned dry, then dusty.
"This is better," Charlie said, her tone lifting.
"Agreed. Hope it stays this way."
The tunnel stretched on, narrow and twisting, and it felt as if we were crawling through the throat of some goddamned monster. Doug's ragged breathing got worse, echoing off the stone, and I couldn't decide if he was still scared or just damn unfit.
I ducked beneath an overhang low enough to scrape across my hair and stepped into open space.
Another cave. Bigger than the first. My lighter flame steadied in the still air, and the weak orange glow spread out across uneven ground.
The ceiling arched so high that it was lost in shadow.
The floor was littered with rubble and smaller rocks, and the air smelled stale as though no breeze had ever touched it.
To my left, something sat slumped against the wall.
At first, I thought it was a rock formation or an old log. But a colorful pattern on half of it said otherwise.
Crunching over grit, I stepped closer.
The shape took form in the firelight, and my breath caught.
The body of a man sat against the cave wall, legs stretched out in front like he’d just stopped to rest and never got up again. "What the hell." I moved in, holding the lighter higher. It wasn't a body; this was a skeleton.
His denim jeans were faded. The work boots were dusty and cracked.
Skeletal hands rested in his lap, fingers curled slightly as if they'd been holding something when he’d taken his final breath.
The ribcage jutted through a torn flannel shirt, and the skull tilted to one side, jaw hanging slack. Empty eye sockets stared at nothing.
Charlie stopped beside me, sucking in a sharp breath. "Oh, my God."
Doug edged around us, eyes bulging. "Jesus!"
I crouched for a better look. "Hold this." I passed Charlie the lighter. She took it and angled the flame toward the body.
The bones were stained brown with age, some still held together by dried tendons and scraps of leathery skin.
Dust had settled into every crevice, coating the fabric, the boots, the hollow spaces between ribs.
The skull sat at an unnatural angle, and a jagged crack split the temple from hairline to eye socket.
That was probably what had killed him.
There was no way to know how long he'd been sitting here. Years, at least. Judging by the dried flesh and the way the bones had darkened, he might have been there for decades.
Charlie squatted beside me, bringing the light closer. She studied the skeleton with an unexpected calmness, her gaze moving methodically over the remains as if she was taking inventory. If the corpse bothered her at all, she didn't show it.
"Who is he?" Doug asked, dropping into a crouch too damn close to me.
"How the hell should I know?" I snarled.
"It's your land," he said. "You keep reminding us."
"Piss off." I reached toward the corpse's front pocket.
"What are you doing?" Doug's voice went sharp.
"Checking for ID."
I shoved my fingers through the stiff fabric. Nothing in the front. Nothing in the back. I shook my head. "No wallet."
As I shifted the body, something clinked between the skeleton's legs. I tugged at the sides of his jeans, and a small velvet pouch tumbled free from where it had been tucked against his legs.
A drawstring was still wrapped around his little finger bone.
"Huh. I bet he was holding this when he died." I worked the cord loose from the knuckle. The pouch sat heavy in my palm, and when I tilted it, the contents shifted like it was a bag of marbles or coins.
"What is it?" Doug crowded closer.
"How the hell should I know?" I loosened the drawstring and tipped colorful stones and jewelry into my palm. Dozens of gems. Emeralds, rubies, sapphires. And rings, earrings, bracelets, a golden chain with a heavy shield pendant, and diamonds the size of blueberries.
The hair on my neck stand up. "What the hell..."
"Oh my God," Charlie breathed.
"Holy shit!" Doug's voice cracked. "Are those real?" His hand shot toward my palm.
I snapped my fist closed and jerked away from him. "Back off."
Doug's face twisted. "They're not yours."
My jaw tightened. I stood, clutching the pouch. "This is Branson land. Anything found here belongs to me."
Doug rose too, his movements jerky and aggressive. His expression turned feral, lips pulled back from his teeth. "Oh yeah? That man didn't die naturally." He jabbed a finger toward the crack in the skull. "Maybe you put him here."
Heat flared in my chest. "Watch your mouth."
Doug took a step back, his hand flying to the rifle strap on his shoulder. He gripped it tightly, knuckles white. "How do we know you didn't kill him, huh? Convenient, isn't it? Body shows up on your land, holding a fortune."
"I’m warning you!"
Charlie darted between us, her hands raised.
"Cut it out, Doug!" Her voice cracked like a whip.
She gestured at the skeleton. "Look at those bones.
The discoloration, the deterioration. That body's been here at least thirty years, probably longer.
" Her eyes blazed. "So, unless Mitch was a child murderer, he couldn't have killed that poor man. "
"You defending him now?" Doug's jaw clenched, veins standing out in his neck.
"I'm stating facts," Charlie said coldly.
"You're a bloody idiot, mate," I said, forcing my voice to stay level, though my fist was clenched. Every muscle in my body screamed to punch the bastard in the throat.
Doug's hands trembled as he swung the rifle off his shoulder. The barrel came up, wavering between me and Charlie. His pupils were blown wide, his breathing ragged and shallow. "We all found that jewelry. We share them. Equal split."
My heart hammered, but I kept my voice flat. "We're not sharing a damn thing."
Doug's finger moved to the trigger. The gleam in his eyes turned desperate. "Then I'm taking them."
"Doug? What the hell!" Charlie's breath caught in her throat.
"Put the gun down," I said calmly, the way I'd talk to a spooked horse.
In the corner of my eye, Charlie stiffened. Her hands curled into fists at her sides.
"Don't do it, Doug." I adjusted my stance, ready to tackle the stupid bastard.
There was no reasoning with him anymore. Whatever grip he'd had on sanity, he'd lost it.
The rifle steadied in his hands.
"Doug, please." Charlie's voice shook, but she didn't move.
"Everyone, calm down." I raised one hand slowly, keeping the other closed around the jewel pouch. "Nobody needs to get hurt here."
"Give me the goddammed jewels," Doug said, voice cracking. "Now."
I met Charlie's eyes. She was terrified. Her chest rose and fell too fast; her hands shook despite her clenched fists. Yet she didn't back down.
"Doug," I said carefully. "Think about what you're doing."
"I have thought about it." His voice pitched higher. "I need those jewels."
"What? Why?" Charlie asked, her voice high-pitched.
Doug's gaze flickered between us. Sweat beaded on his forehead. "I owe people. Bad people. And if I don't pay them back—" His voice broke. "My daughter and I are dead."
The desperation in his voice was real, but so was the rifle pointed at my chest.
"We can figure this out," I said. "Just put the gun down."
Doug shook his head. "No. Give me the jewels, or I'll—"
"You'll what?" I took a step forward. "Shoot us both?"
"Mitch, don't," Charlie whispered.
"He's not going to shoot anyone," I said, not breaking eye contact with Doug. "Are you, mate?"
Doug's hands trembled harder. The rifle barrel dipped, then jerked back up.
"You're not a killer," I continued, voice low and steady. "You're scared. I get it. But this isn't the way."
Doubt flickered across Doug's face. Then his jaw set. "I don't have a choice."
"There's always a choice."
"Not for me." Doug's finger tightened on the trigger.
My muscles coiled, ready to shove Charlie out of the way, and charge at the stupid bastard.
"Stop!" Charlie's shout echoed off the cave walls. "Just... wait."
Doug's attention snapped to her.
"When we get out of this cave and get back to civilization, we can figure out what to do with the jewels then. Together."
"You think I'm stupid?" Doug released a bitter laugh. "You'll call the cops."
"No," Charlie said. "We won't. I promise."
"Your promises don't mean shit."
"You want the jewels?" I asked. "You can have them when you lower the damn gun."
"I'm not an idiot," he yelled so loudly the tendons in his neck bulged.
"Doug." Charlie raised her hands, trying to calm him. "The storm isn't over, and the cave could still flood, remember? You want to navigate these caves alone in the dark?"
Doug's gaze shot to the tunnel we'd come through. Water still echoed from somewhere beyond.
Charlie pressed on. "We need each other to get out of here. All three of us. So, let's just get through the night. Please."
The rifle wavered.
I stayed perfectly still, barely breathing.
Every instinct screamed at me to go for the gun now, before things got worse.
But Charlie's eyes pleaded with me to back down.