Shay pushed, spelunking further into the hillside, rubbing her chilly shoulders through her jacket as she rounded a corner in the cave. The heat of the desert was a distant memory as the dipping sun combined with the cool air of the underground cave surrounded her.
Her travels brought her to a wider underground chamber. Several long, vertical, tight narrow cracks led farther into the cave, but no human, not even a child, could fit into them. She suspected the bats were making good use of them.
Shay moved the flashlight back and forth to illuminate different parts of the chamber. The strong beam of light revealed four rotting wooden chests. Her heart beat faster with excitement even as her training kicked in and she took in the data, assessing the situation.
She marched over to the nearest chest and set down her backpack, pulling out a pair of lined gloves. No electrical shocks this time. She tapped on the lid as the wood crumbled into small, jagged pieces. A stronger push moved the entire lid off the chest.
“That’s what I like to see.”
The bars of gold inside gleamed in the light of her flashlight.
Shay took a deep breath and slowly let it out.
Preparation and persistence meets opportunity.
Shay grinned as she moved the light around to get a better look. “Found you, you bastards.” Not so fast. “Now what sort of whacked-out magic is protecting you?”
She slowly reached down, gritting her teeth and waiting for the pain. No guarantee the gloves would protect her from anything.
Nothing zapped her. No earthquakes shook the area. No portals opened to another world. She picked up a single gold bar, enjoying the heft of the valuable metal.
Shay flipped it over, looking for the miner’s mark Abbot had sent in an email. A circle containing a stylized P set in a bull over the shining sun sat embedded in the back of the bar.
“Congratulations, Greg,” Shay whispered. “You’re about to get a lot fucking richer.”
Quick removal of the other chest lids revealed more gold, and near the fourth chest, Shay’s breath caught as she spotted words clumsily carved into the rock wall above and behind the chest.
The Spanish was a little old-fashioned, but she could still get the gist of the story. The survivors believed the massacre of the Peralta family was a sign from God. A curse on the gold and the Apache that hunted them down were his instrument. The survivors hid the gold to protect people from the curse and used a spell to hide the entrance.
“Somebody in that family was a Witch.” Shay rested back on her heels. A connection to Oriceran and magic.
“Greed blinds a man to the truth. Well played. Have to appreciate a good riddle.”
She burst out laughing, the sound echoing around the cave chamber. “I did it… I fucking did it.” Money and a reputation. Not a bad day’s work.
Shay knew from her old line of work. Sometimes a massacre was just a bad fucking day.
“Of course, if this gold is cursed, Greg Abbot will find out soon enough. But trust me, I’m not dying from any ancient fucking curse.”
Shay stood and stretched her arms out to the sides. The cargo drone would do most of the work on the longer trip from the cave to the car, but she still had to move all the gold past the dampening field and out in the open.
“Time for me to get in an extra workout and grab some gold. Ancient Witch, I thank you for the spell that kept this hidden till I could get here…”
Exhausted from her long day, Shay slept in the Land Rover overnight after loading the gold into the back, figuring the tarp would be enough protection from a prying drone or anyone using binoculars to survey the area. By the time she was on the last trip her arms were shaking from the effort, but nothing was going to stop her from getting every last bar. Financial bullshit, officially over.
Arrangements for a private plane were made before she left Los Angeles, setting up the last stage of the job to be easy compared to lifting hundreds of pounds of gold. Last stage of the journey was to get to the airport, load up the gold, and fly back to L.A. Straight forward as firing a gun, assuming she didn’t run into more random assholes in Escalades with their own firepower.
The rising sun woke her up early and she set out for town, chewing on a Lara bar as she drove, grateful for a trip free of any Escalades.
But, the minute she hit the edge of town, she spotted a shiny black Cadillac tagging along behind her.
Little late to the party.
Shay frowned into her rearview mirror, checking their distance and scanning the roadside for anyone looking in her direction. She needed to know if there was a general plan in motion or one random car following her.
A troublesome concern of magic filtered into Shay’s mind. There were rumors all over the dark web of the cartels hiring necromancers, especially the cartels with members who worshipped Santa Muerte.
Shay could kill a man or woman with ease. She didn’t know if she could take down a zombie.
“Motherfucking zombies.”
Back in the states, the bounty hunters kept the worst excesses of magic threats in check. Large cities in Mexico were also safe enough, but the rural cartel-controlled zones were their own empire where the rules were known to change and often involved dark magic.
Stay cool, Shay. No zombies driving the Cadillac. They tend to walk in groups at their prey.
A shudder passed through Shay despite the hot desert air.
She drove on for a few more blocks, making a sudden hard turn into a narrow street in the opposite direction of the airport. Leading mercenaries
