Red Mountain (27 page)

Robert and Will didn’t answer.

“What about the others?” Marsh asked.

“We lost three back at the railroad tracks.”

“And how did you luck out and the others didn’t?”

“I got jumped. Then they took me home and stuck me inside a freezer so they could get me to talk.”

“So that’s how they found out where I was?”

Frosty lowered his head like a dog about to be punished.

“I didn’t tell them anything. Not right away. Then I got so damn cold I couldn’t feel anything anymore. I thought I was going to die. I’m sorry Mr. Marsh. I didn’t want to.”

“Not to worry Gomez. This is all going to work out just fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. In fact, I’m going to give you a chance for a little payback. So go help yourself to one of those guns up on the porch.”

Frosty nodded happily and ran off.

“I think that about does it,” Marsh said. He tossed Robert a set of keys. “Now be a good boy and fetch me my truck. You’ll find it parked behind the house.”

Robert nodded and walked away while Marsh laughed to himself. “I’m sure glad he’s come to his senses. I’ve got a lot I want to do when this is all over.”

“Then you better hope we never meet again,” Will glared.

Splashes echoed up from the bottom the well after Mr. Frosty dumped their remaining weapons. He turned around and walked toward them with Robert’s .38 pointed at their heads.

Marsh bent next to Mr. Frosty and whispered into his ear. “As soon as we’re gone I want you to mop this place up for me.”

“What?”

“Kill the sonofabitch and everyone inside the house. Then burn it all to the ground...”

A wicked grin cracked across Frosty’s face. “I’ll do it, Mr. Marsh... And after that?”

“Meet me up on the mountain. I’m going to need your help hauling that gold out of there.”

CHAPTER 53

With the sun beating overhead, Carol and Marco were lowered down into the pale blue chasm of the glacier. The ice near the top was thick like milky quartz, but as they made their way inside it became luminous and otherworldly.

“This is fantastic,” Carol shouted as she repelled deeper. She soon reached the shelf of ice where Marco was waiting for her.

“It’s only the beginning,” Marco said, unclipping her from her line. Being the first ones down, they took a moment to kiss before Marco took her by the hand and led her through a twisting corridor of ice.

When they reached the cave, Carol felt as if she was entering the crystalline heart of a giant thunder egg. She couldn’t believe the colors she was seeing now, how the surface—at least two stories above them—absorbed the sunlight above and transformed it into fractal-shaped jewels.

In all the years she’d spent studying glaciers, she’d seen nothing like this. She wished she’d remembered to pack her camera.

They followed the cave to the end where the light in the ice grew weaker, until they came to a dome shaped room with a pit scooped out of the ice, the inside of which was blackened with the remnants of charred wood. Along the base of the wall they saw evidence of candle wax drippings preserved under a layer of ice.

“What is this?” Carol asked, shivering with excitement.

“Don’t you think it looks like a kind of shrine?”

“Well if that’s the case, then I don’t understand its purpose.”

“Hold on and I’ll show you…”

Marco walked around to the other side of the fire pit and set down his pack. After a few minutes he lit a propane torch and began to wave it across the mostly clouded wall in front of him like a wand.

The ice melted and cooled, but the surface this time was as clear as glass. Marco leaned closer and stared into the wall.

“Come over here Carol,” Marco grinned. “I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”

Marco stepped aside for Carol to see. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the sheer thickness of ice. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the shafts of yellow light far away, reminding her of watching sunlight piercing silver rain clouds on the horizon. At first the only material she saw suspended in the ice were rocks and ghostly clouds of frozen silt, until suddenly the foreground jumped into her vision and her brain registered the dark figure of a man floating before her.

“Jesus, Marco,” she said, catching his shoulder with her hand to stop from falling onto her back. She saw tiny black dots before her eyes until she regained her breath. She couldn’t get over the fact that the frozen man had been so close all along. It reminded her of the time when she was a child and she’d lost her parents inside the dimly lit horror section of a wax museum, with Jack the Ripper and Dracula seemingly reaching out to grab her by her blonde ponytail.

Marco laughed softly and held her steady, his eyes intently focused on the space of ice below the phantom man’s boots. Carol finally turned back and looked too, noticing the large leather saddlebags bursting with gold coins. Coins flying off in every direction, surrounding the figure like parade confetti. There was so much gold. And they had the means to take it if they wanted to...

“What do you think we should do?” Carol finally asked, her limbs trembling from both the excitement and frigid air of the cave. “You can’t just take old treasure without attracting attention.”

Marco put his arms around her and tried rubbing some warmth into her bones.

“Relax. I made a few calls. It’s not as difficult as you think. I know someone who can help us. I talked it over with the rest of the team already and they’re up for it. We’ll split it all up evenly and never say another word about it.”

“So what do we do about him?” Carol said, pointing at Maynard. “Aren’t we going to have to call the authorities? That is a dead body after all. We could be committing all sorts of crimes if we don’t do anything.”

Marco drew Carol’s face up to his and kissed her on the cheek. When he moved back she could still feel the warm imprint his lips had made on her skin. She stared into his dark eyes and realized she was going to do whatever he said.

“We’ll try and leave him where he is. If we need to extract him for a short period we can always put him back and fill the place in when we’re done. It’s the least of our troubles, Carol.”

“So what’s going to be our biggest obstacle?”

Marco smiled. “To figure out how we’re going to spend our fortunes. They may not be huge but they will be enough to change the course of our lives if we want.”

Carol pulled away and pressed her chin against the ice for another look at the gold. Marco might be right about this, she thought. If it could at least get her out of debt she might be able to start over. Leave the university and Harold’s bitching and maybe go live somewhere with the man of her dreams.

“I still can’t believe you found this... With all the ice climbers up here you’d think someone would have discovered it a long time go. It just seems so unreal.”

“You’re telling me. After I slipped this morning I must have been knocked out for awhile, because when I came too I was convinced I was either dreaming or dead.”

“So how long do you think it will take to extract all those coins?”

“Not long. We’ve got all the tools we need.”

“Then let’s get started immediately.”

“You’re the boss.”

Carol smirked. “I’m not so sure anymore.”

Marco smiled and patted the photocopy of the map he’d kept in his jacket since the beginning of the research trip. When he’d been sure no one was around to see, he’d smoothed it out on the ground and studied it.

He’d worried all along that he wouldn’t have the opportunity to find the cave, but thanks to Carol’s headaches and an inexperienced team he’d managed to pull it off. Now that they’d seen the gold, there would be little he’d have to do to keep them motivated.

Everyone has had a dream of finding treasure, he thought. But only a few have the guts to do what it takes to claim it…

CHAPTER 54

As soon as Robert and Marsh were out of sight, Mr. Frosty ordered Will to put his hands on his head and make for the barn. Too bad it wasn’t Robert, he thought. He’s the one I’d really like to make suffer. But beggars couldn’t be choosers, and Marsh called the shots.

Mr. Frosty could feel eyes watching him from inside the house. He didn’t want to panic anyone. If they saw him shoot Will they might run and scatter across the farm, making things a hell of a lot more complicated than taking care of them in the house all at once.

Will did as he was asked. His stride was much longer and in no time he was ahead of Mr. Frosty who puffed hard from exertion in the boiling desert heat.

“Slow down, goddamn you!”

Will stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn around. His body slumped forward like a man being marched to the gallows.

Short on air, Mr. Frosty smiled painfully as he slowed his pace. His mind was now a whirl of delicious thoughts. Things were beginning to look up, ever since he’d escaped from the psycho’s garage half frozen but still alive. It didn’t take long to find the SUV. The woman talking on her cell phone hadn’t even seen him coming. Boy was she surprised to see a fist heading for her stupid face…

“So what do you think of yourself now, hot shot?”

Mr. Frosty ignored how his voice sounded shrill and wobbly, prepubescent. He didn’t even care what the bastard thought. Mr. Frosty was determined to love every minute of this. Killing this prick was going to be the most satisfying thing he’d done in years.

Will’s pace got him ahead of the little man again. He turned his head to see if Mr. Frosty was catching up. His eyes seemed to catch something behind his executioner, but he quickly looked back to the dark doorway of the barn.

Does he really think I’m going to fall for it? Talk about desperate. I’m not turning around. Not so he can jump me.

Mr. Frosty poked Will in the back with the muzzle of his gun and caused him to grunt.

“You like that?” Mr. Frosty asked. “Just wait until that fucking head of yours is swimming with lead.”

This time it came out deeper, like the voice of a man who’d already done this many times. Mr. Frosty had found his groove.

While he’d been locked in Will’s freezer in complete darkness, Mr. Frosty had sworn he’d do anything necessary to have his revenge. He knew he couldn’t ask god for help, so he’d spoken to the dark thing he’d met back when he was spending time in solitary. Four long years inside a concrete box losing his mind. All for assaulting a prison guard with the severed head of rat whose teeth dripped with rabies.

He hadn’t made a deal for a long time with the dark thing but it had appeared to him inside the freezer without much coaxing. Then it became anxious, like most dealers are when they want to get down to doing business.

Mr. Frosty was going to have his revenge. He’d stare into the Will’s eyes while he cut him down. The dark thing would be there too. It told him it looked forward to the show.

He stopped near the entrance to the barn as Will began to walk inside.

“That’s far enough dead man… Now turn around.”

Will obeyed, but his face was much too calm for Mr. Frosty’s liking.

Where was the fear?

This wasn’t going quite the way he’d imagined. He’d wanted to see the man begin pleading for his life. He’d assumed Will understood his time on earth was nearing the end. But more than killing him, he needed to see him suffer.

Shoot him in the kneecap, boss. That’ll get him blubbering for you.

Good idea…

When Mr. Frosty took careful aim and was about to squeeze the trigger, a blast of hot white light shot out from behind his eyes. He saw some black raggedy object shoot past his head and plop on the ground several feet in front of him.

Stupid fucking crow…

He’d always hated birds. They woke him up before sunrise and shit on his car. The crows always sounded as if they were mocking him.

He staggered toward it, wondering how in hell a bird could have been so dumb as to slam against the back of his head and kill itself.

Except as he got closer he realized it wasn’t a bird at all.

It was his bloody scalp…

Mr. Frosty touched the top of his head and felt warm slick sponge beneath his fingertips. He fell to the ground and rolled over to his side. His face was turned toward Will in surprise. An opened eye gazed sightlessly into the sun.

After several twitches he didn’t move again. And yet the dark thing he’d made a bargain with raged inside him, frantically searched for a means of escaping from its outsmarted host.

Peggy stepped forward cautiously, keeping Wilbur’s revolver aimed at the dead man’s chest. She reached down and pried the gun from Mr. Frosty’s hand. To the thing inside him, she was like a ray of sun breaking momentarily through a bank of winter fog, and it savored her warmth during the brief contact. Later it would find itself being tormented by flies coming to lay eggs in the dead man’s body.