Mateo swung his pick, and they knocked the hole open wider. Gage ducked through into the passage, and Abby joined him. Dim light seeped through the rotting floors overhead, but it wasn’t enough to see without their lamps. Ten yards down the corridor, the floor had caved in, as it had in most of the rooms along the passage.
The rain was falling steadily now, dripping through the floor over their heads. The wind made an eerie sound as it raced over the land and whistled through the trees.
Gage heard a rumble of thunder, and heavy drops began to fall, rattling like pebbles on the old wooden floor overhead, running through cracks and rotten places in the wood. More rain poured into the opening above the original chamber, splattering on the broken tile floors.
“I don’t like this,” Gage said. “We’re basically working in a basement that could fill up with water.”
Through a gap in the timbers overhead, Abby looked up at a slice of the turbulent sky. Gage tracked her gaze, but it was impossible to see anything but a tiny patch of dark gray. Even that glimpse was blurred by the downpour of water.
“Doesn’t look good,” Gage said.
“Keep working!” Santos commanded, nudging him with the barrel of his rifle and ending the discussion.
They went back to work with their picks and shovels, tearing open the walls of the next chamber, but finding no sign of the gold. Mateo climbed out of the pit, and he and Paulo rigged a pulley system to haul buckets of mud and debris out of the hole, giving them more room to work.
Gage glanced over at Abby. They had removed their rain gear, which was too bulky for the strenuous work. The rain had plastered Abby’s blouse and jeans to her body, outlining her full breasts and curvy behind. She was the only woman for miles around, and he had seen the men watching her.
Especially Santos, who viewed her every move with undisguised lust.
Gage’s jaw went tight. Santos and the others would stay away from her as long as she kept digging. They wanted the gold even more than they wanted her.
They worked into the afternoon without pause, digging and clearing, Gage occasionally returning to King’s charts, checking them against what they had found so far. The rain steadily increased, and the wind went from a fierce keening to an eerie howling.
Then the clouds opened up in a violent deluge, and sheets of rain poured out of the sky. In minutes, the water was knee deep, mud and leaves from above sliding into the hole on top of them. Santos climbed the rope ladder and took a safe position where he could watch them working below.
Abby swung her pick, loosening a portion of the wall at the back of one of the chambers, the water in the pit well up to her thighs.
Gage gripped her arm. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
Abby nodded, her relief clear. They sloshed through the brackish water back to the rope. “Get a good grip and coil the rope around your leg to brace yourself as you climb up.”
Abby started up the rope.
“Keep working!” Santos called down, his rifle aimed at Abby.
“We’ll drown down here, and you’ll never get your gold!” Gage shouted into the wind. “You want to explain that to Velásquez?”
Paulo appeared at the edge of the pit. “Let them come up,” he said, shoving Santos aside. “They won’t do us any good if they are dead.”
Santos backed away, and Abby continued to the top of the rope and out of the pit. The rain was relentless, flooding into the chamber in a river of water, mud, and rotting wood, leaves, and debris.
Gage grabbed the rope and started up, hand over hand. Halfway to the top, he heard a grinding sound and looked up to see a wall of mud sliding toward him, pushing rocks and heavy beams in front of it.
He tightened his hold on the rope, but one of the timbers hit him square in the chest, knocking him back into the pit. Gage heard Abby scream, and everything went black.
* * *
“Gage!” The force of the wind tore the words from her lips as Abby ran toward the open pit in the ground. Gage’s head disappeared beneath the muddy water, the heavy beam forcing him under.
“Abby, no!” Mateo raced toward her as Abby dropped feet first into the thick, swirling black water below.
The muddy torrent closed over her head, and there was no way to see. Using her hands and scissoring her legs, she reached out in search of Gage’s big body, but she couldn’t find him.
Her heart thundered, and fear gripped her as she came up for air, then went down again. Chunks of wood, sharp-edged fragments of tile, then her hand closed over what felt like a piece of cloth. Abby’s fingers wrapped around Gage’s arm, and she started pulling, but he was unconscious, unable to help, the heavy timber weighing him down. As hard as she tugged, she wasn’t strong enough to haul him to the surface.
Abby shot up for air, grabbed another breath, and saw Mateo working frantically to set up a line to pull them both out. She drew in a deep breath and ducked down again, adrenaline pumping through her, giving her extra strength.
No way was she letting Gage drown! She pulled and shoved, trying to get him free of the heavy beam, but it wouldn’t budge. A silent scream filled her throat. Tears burned behind her eyes, and her heart squeezed hard.
Dear God, please don’t let him die!
More rain washed in, a dense stream that pooled and flooded into the hole, and suddenly the timber shifted. Abby shoved with all her strength, kicked and pushed until her lungs burned from lack of air. She couldn’t hold out much longer. With the last of her strength, she pushed, and suddenly the beam slid away.
Grabbing Gage under the arms, she hauled him slowly to the surface. Her head shot out of the water, and she gasped in a huge breath of air.
The rope hit the water in front of her, and she managed to slip it over Gage’s head, around his shoulders, and under his arms. Working together, Mateo, Paulo, and Tomás pulled Gage out of the hole. Paulo tossed the rope back down to her while Mateo worked over Gage.
By the time she was out of the water and scrambling frantically to where Gage lay on the ground, he was spitting up muddy water and gasping for air.
Fresh tears burned her eyes. “Gage . . .” He rolled onto his back, and she threw her arms around him. “Gage . . .”
Gage drew her closer. “I’m . . . okay,” he said, coughing. “I’m all right.”
Abby started crying. She was losing King. She had almost lost Gage. She tried to stop the tears, but they just kept rolling down her cheeks.
“It’s all right, baby.” Gage stroked a hand over the wet hair plastered to her head. “Everything’s okay.” His forehead was bleeding, his shirt torn open and hanging off his muscled shoulders. A tropical storm raged around them, the rain so thick it was impossible to see. Men with guns and rifles surrounded them.
But Gage was alive, and so was she.
Abby wiped away her tears and kissed him full on the mouth. “You’re right, honey. Everything is just fine.”
* * *
Edge shook off Trace’s restraining arms, turned and stalked deeper into the forest. He was breathing hard, his hands balled into shaking fists.
His brother had almost died. If it hadn’t been for Abby, he’d have drowned in that muddy hole. What good would security be if his brother was dead?
But Trace was right. They needed to wait until the last possible moment, let the situation come to the razor’s edge between life and death, before he gave up their position and rushed in to help.