Restless Soul - Alex Archer [68]
“The authorities are on their way,” she told him.
Still no reaction on his face. Could he tell she was bluffing?
The authorities will be on their way if they aren’t already, she told herself. A quick glance at the truck showed that the front tire that had been shot had not gone flat, and with luck it wouldn’t.
“Sit.”
After a moment, he complied.
She pulled up the rope ladder and practically cocooned him in it, tying him up. She made sure the knots were tight; he wouldn’t be freeing himself. She used the cable from the winch to secure the men up top she’d subdued earlier. One of them was groggy, but a quick tap to the side of his head sent him unconscious again.
“Let’s get some mug shots,” she said, going to the side of the trail where she’d dropped the net bag containing her digital camera. She came back to the cocooned man and wiped the blood away from his nose. “Say cheese.”
Annja unwrapped it from the plastic. “Nuts.” She hadn’t noticed it earlier, but the camera had been ruined sometime during her mad dash yesterday. A bullet was lodged near the lens, spiderweb cracks radiating from it. She tried to thumb it on, just in case. “Nuts. Nuts. Nuts.”
She made a move to heave it down the mountainside, but stopped herself. The memory card might be all right, meaning all the pictures she took yesterday could be saved, or maybe someone could fix the camera. She wrapped the camera in the plastic and the net bag again. Then she leaned over the hole, taking another look at the crates and craning her neck so she could see her captive. Testing the cable and rope on the men up top, she pronounced them as secure as she could make them.
She climbed up to the truck, pleased to see her backpack sitting on the passenger seat. Opening the door took a bit of muscle, as it was dented and did not fit properly. It took two yanks before it whined and relented. So the man had driven the Jeep out of the truck’s way and had come back to take the truck, dropping her pack in it. But he hadn’t possessed the keys—or else she suspected he would have roared away and left her in the cavern. Annja jangled the keys she’d taken from the man in the cavern and on her first guess found the one that fit in the ignition. Despite the rust and the age of the vehicle, the engine purred.
“On second thought—” She left it running and slipped out, leaving the door open and marching straight to the man cocooned in the rope ladder. Her muscles grew sore as she tugged him to his feet and shuffled him to the back of the truck. Opening the tailgate and lifting him inside was almost impossible, but Annja was nothing if not determined and finally heaved him in. Then she latched the tailgate and climbed back into the cab.
Annja practiced with the clutch, gas and brake pedals, which were stiff. She had to move the seat forward and adjust the rearview and side mirrors, all of which were covered with a dirty film. The stink of cigarettes permeated the cab, but her own bad odor overpowered it. She fought the bile rising in her throat and stuck her head out the window to suck down some better air.
“Let’s get out of here. But first, let’s see where here is.” In her net bag was the map one of the villagers had drawn for her. Though pretty and well rendered, it wasn’t terribly useful. She leaned over and thumbed the glove box. “That’s better.” Several maps were stuffed inside, and she got lucky with the first one. It even had a faint blue circle drawn on it that she guessed approximated the location of the treasure cavern. “The lodge would be here.” She tapped her finger at a spot that didn’t look terribly far away. That’s where she intended to go first.
She would see if Luartaro had made it back and then head to the nearest city to contact the authorities…likely the city she and Luartaro had taken the bus from to reach the lodge. Annja nudged her pack to the side and spread the map on the passenger seat and studied it.
She reached for the backpack, unfastened it and dipped