beyond her line of sight. The noise ended and the beam other flashlight caught a pack rat frozen in the light. She sighed with relief and switched her attention to the shaft. It was filled in with rubble. Kerney scouted the outside area on foot as the rain came down harder and harder. He smiled when Sara emerged. There was dirt on her chin and the tip of her nose. She shook her head back and forth.
'Nothing?' he asked.
'Just a pack rat.'
'Let's move on.'
The wind roared up to gale force, pelting them with cold rain as they mounted their horses. Sara shouted over the gale, 'We've got to get out of here.' Lightning cracked above her. The gelding reared, ears back, rotated in a quick counterclockwise spin, and slammed into the packhorse. The roan back stepped and went down. Sara was out of her saddle, fighting to stay seated. The gelding spun in a tighter circle, whirling into a juniper tree at the fringe of the trail.
The branches whipped Sara's face, and she tumbled off the gelding, trying to take the fall on her shoulders and get away from the horse. She landed hard, the breath jarred out of her. The gelding, snorting with fright, reared above her. She could barely see through the sheet of rain as she rolled to avoid the hoofs. The impact never came. Kerney had the bay between her and the gelding, switching it with his reins. He got it settled down and hitched securely to a tree, tied off the bay and the roan, and ran to her. Sara struggled to sit up.
'Are you all right?' he demanded.
'I caught my foot in the stirrup and twisted my ankle.' She held out her hand so he could help her to her feet. 'That's all.'
'Let me look at it,' Kerney ordered, holding her firmly in place. There was a red welt on her forehead.
'It isn't broken.'
'Which ankle?'
'The right one.' She shook off Kerney's grip, tried to stand on her own, grimaced in pain, and sank back to the ground.
'Stay put. I'll tape it.' He got the first-aid kit, took off her boot, and inspected the ankle. It was sprained but unbroken. He wrapped it tightly and got the boot back on before it would no longer fit over the swelling. He supported her as she stood up and took a few tentative, painful steps. Then he laughed.
'What's so damn funny?' Sara demanded.
'You and me,' he said, still chuckling, as he walked her to the gelding.
'Now we're a matched pair.'
They hurried across Sweetwater Canyon. There was no time to stop. The storm covered the range from north to south. Any runoff would catch them before they could reach the desert. Kerney led the small caravan to the side of a high mesa, into the stinging rain of a low cloud.
There was nothing above them but the blackness of the storm. Big Mesa curved between two canyons, encased in the cloud that spilled over into the basin and blocked the basin floor from view. Fog came at them from every direction and wrapped them up. It was gray and wind-lashed, with fleeting breaks in the cover that brought a glimmer of creamy light into the haze. The horses, jaded from the ridge-running, needed rest. Kerney had pushed hard to leave the low ground. It was none too soon. They could hear the growing roar of the torrent below them, crashing through the rocks, sweeping toward the wide mouth of the canyon. He dismounted and dropped the reins over the head of the bay.
The horse stood still, legs quivering. Hunched over, eyes cast downward, he went looking for the footpath that would get them off the mesa. The trail started at a rock face along a narrow ledge, then made a series of sharp switchbacks. The old ranch road intercepted the trail on the first step up the mesa. They would have to walk the next two miles, leading the horses. Kerney found the trailhead and returned to give Sara the news. She groaned silently at the prospect and dismounted without comment. As she hobbled behind the packhorse she wondered if she would ever get dry and warm again. She assumed Kerney was taking them to shelter, but she had no idea where they were going or how long it would take to get there. She damn sure wasn't going to ask. There was no way Kerney would hear a whine or a whimper from her. The two of them trudged along on gimpy legs, waterlogged, leading miserable, tired animals. There was enough humor in it to make Sara smile every now and then, in spite of the pain shooting up her leg. The switchback trail was barely passable and in places only faintly discernible. Scattered rocks and saturated earth along the way made for tough going. The mud turned to thick slop as the intensity of the rain increased.
The cloud sank lower and the rain turned to hail. Sara's only reference points were the trail at her feet and the backside of the packhorse in front of her. She sighed with relief when Kerney signaled her to stop. He stood between two superficial ruts filled with water, intersecting the path.
It had to be the jeep trail. When he failed to move on she joined him and asked what was wrong. The hood of his rain slick dripped water down the brim of his hat as he bent to study the tire tracks in the mud.
'These are recent,' he said.
'It looks like somebody's cut a new route.'
'Going where?'
'As far as I know, nowhere. It dead-ends up at the rock face.' He pointed up the trail. She might have missed it in the rain. 'Drops straight off or goes straight up. There's no way out.'
They were quiet for a moment, neither one of them enthusiastic about the obvious need to follow the tracks.
'The storm should break soon,' Kerney suggested, wiping his nose with a damp hand.
'Let's go have a look,' Sara said, with as much energy as she could muster. The tire tracks gave out in a circle of flattened grass where the vehicle had turned and backed up near two twisted, intertwined cedar trees close to a seamless cliff that cut off forward movement. At the base was a steep plummet to a smaller mesa below. On the canyon floor a bighorn browsed serenely within yards of a cascading flood of water rushing toward the mouth of Sweetwater. Kerney looked at the cliff. It matched perfectly with the bighorn watercolor. They tied the horses to the trees and took a closer look. The lower branches had been cut away to allow passage to the rock face.
A tent-shaped crevice in the granite had been care fully filled in with stones and small boulders. It took only a few minutes to remove the rocks. The air that wafted out of the darkness brought the smell of decaying flesh with it. Standing at the entrance, Sara used her flashlight to illuminate the cave. It was high enough for Kerney to stand upright and deep enough to hold two dozen or more people. The ground was smooth stone, except for a pile of loose shale at the back of the cave. They walked to the mound, and Sara held the flashlight while Kerney removed the shale. Under layers of rock the outline of a body emerged, wrapped in a tarp. Gagging on the stench, Kerney peeled back the sheath. Escaped gases from the decomposed body had blistered Sammy's face so that it looked burned. He was barely recognizable.
'Shit, shit, shit, shit,' Kerney said, spitting the words out. He turned away, gasped for fresh air, and looked at Sammy's face again.
'Let me help,' Sara said. Kerney brushed her hand away.
'I'll do it,' he said hoarsely. He felt around Sammy's neck until his fingers touched the dog tags, undid the clasp, and carefully pulled loose the chain. The canvas beneath Sammy's head, crusted with dried blood, claimed tufts of hair as Kerney turned the rigid body on its side. The back of Sammy's head was crushed. Kerney's breath whistled out of him through his clenched teeth.
Underneath Sammy's torso was a sketch pad. He handed Sara the pad and the dog tags, fished Sammy's wallet out of his back pocket, and gave it to her.
With her mouth covered to fight off the stench, only Sara's angry eyes showed.
'This sucks,' she said. Kerney said nothing. Slowly, he wrapped Sammy in the tarp, his hands tucking the material as though he were putting the boy to bed. Standing, he swallowed hard against the bile in his mouth and the piercing anger in his chest.
'Let's get out of here,' he growled, pushing past her and into the moist, fresh air that smelled like earth, pine needles, and cedar.
Sara's flashlight beam caught a dull glitter in the fine dust near the feet of the corpse. She picked it up and held the light close to inspect it. It was an old military insignia, two crossed cavalry sabers with a company letter beneath the sheathed blades. She put it in her pocket and joined Kerney outside. Savagely, Kerney restacked the rocks to seal the entrance. The violence in his movements as he worked warned Sara that no help was wanted.
