“You think we can do it clean?” the voice said.
“Should be all right. He said he was headed to Atlanta and came here on a lark. You can check his phone and see if he might have called someone to tell them where he was going, but even if he did, he wouldn’t be the first to get lost in the woods.”
“That’s true. How about the other thing?”
Eddings bit his lip. The “other thing” was a mystery he hadn’t yet been let in on, and it stuck in his craw that he wasn’t in the know. “I can’t say for sure, but it’s doubtful. I tried to trip him up. He says he’s just up here for ancestry research.”
“He had an ancestor in the battle?”
“Yeah, but on our side.”
“We’ll interrogate him just to be sure. Anything else I should know?”
“He’s big fellow. Looks like he can handle himself.”
“That just makes it more fun.”
The call ended and Eddings sat, staring at his phone. He didn’t envy what was about to happen to that Indian.
Chapter 6
“So you think this is it?” Maddock took in the narrow valley. Mountain peaks cast long shadows, and the tall, dark pines that covered their slopes leaned in on all sides, as if daring anyone to try and climb out. A stream cascaded down moss-covered rocks into a tiny lake of deep green. In the distance, the open field that must have been the site of the battle gave way to a dense forest.
“It fits the description.” Bones gazed out across the water. “If the story is true, the hidden cave should be somewhere in the area of that waterfall.” He pointed to the falls.
“By the way, how did your great, great granduncle or whatever he was, come to be fighting for the Union in the first place? I would have thought the Indian Removal Act would have given your family ample reason to hate the federal government.”
“They did,” Bones said. “When Jackson sent the soldiers in, my family hid in the mountains. They hated living like refugees in land that was rightfully their own. But, like my grandfather said, my uncle was an odd sort of fellow, so fighting for the North was probably his way of messing with people.” He flashed a bright smile. “Or, maybe he just hated rednecks as much as I do.”
“Let’s go over things one more time,” Maddock said. “If I’ve got the story straight, by the time he came to this battle, he'd been carrying this family heirloom all throughout the war. And then, when he saw the battle was lost, he stashed it here, knowing he’d have a hard time making it back to Union lines.”
“Yep. He dove into the lake, thinking he could swim away and find a place to hide.” Bones moved closer to the water, his eyes locked on the far shore as if he could see right through the mountainside. “He had almost made it to the far shore when the Confederates spotted him and started shooting. He dove down as deep as he could and came across the entrance to the underwater cavern. I don't know what possessed him to swim into it, not knowing if there would be air pockets, but he did.”
“I’ve noticed a certain recklessness in the generations of Bonebrakes.”
“We call it ‘balls.’ You should consider growing some.”
Maddock chuckled. “So, we’re looking for an underwater cave, and then we have to make our way back into it until it’s too narrow to go any farther, and that’s where it will be hidden?”
Bones nodded. “That’s the plan. Of course, I have no idea how big a dude he was. No telling how far back he was able to make it before the cave got too tight for him.”
“We’ll just have to take our chances.” Maddock fished a quarter from his pocket. “Flip you to see who has to stay topside?”
“No need.” Bones waved the coin away. “I told the ranger I'd be coming up here alone. I don't know why, but I just had a bad feeling about him. It wouldn't surprise me if he showed up to check on us, and if he sees you here with our car, he's going to want to know where I am and why I lied to him.”
“We can't have that now, can we?” Maddock grinned. In general, he didn't care for fresh water dives, but if the choice was between a dive and standing around doing nothing for an hour, he'd take the fresh water.
“Besides,” Bones said, “a shrimp like you will be able to push farther into the cave than I could. I guess there are advantages to being a dwarf.”
Maddock could think of a dozen witty comebacks but he was eager to get out of the Georgia heat and into the cool water. In a matter of minutes, he was suited up and ready to dive.
“Don’t fart around down there,” Bones said. “I'll stick near the shore, look like a tourist, and keep an eye out for you. And try not to get tangled in anything. I really don't want to come in after you. Mountain lakes are cold.”
“I'm definitely not looking forward to the shrinkage factor.” Maddock grimaced.
“How can you tell the difference?” Bones took a quick step back. “Just kidding, bro. Have a good dive.” He fished a small camera from his pocket and strolled away. “Oh, by the way!” he called as Maddock stepped into the water. “Watch out for snapping turtles! One of those gets you in the wrong place and no nieces or nephews for me.”
Laughing, Maddock turned and gritted his teeth as he waded into the chilly lake. This was a far cry from the warm waters of Key West. His full suit would keep him fairly warm, but just knowing he was surrounded by all that cold water was enough to raise goosebumps all over his body. He was a Caribbean and Gulf of Mexico kind of guy, not a mountain man. He slipped beneath the dark water, wishing for sun, sea, and a Dos Equis with lime.
The sun's rays did not penetrate more than a few meters below the surface of the lake, but the beam of the dive light affixed to his forehead revealed boulders and sunken logs, all coated with slimy mud and decayed vegetation. He swam with care, not wanting to limit visibility by stirring up a cloud of debris. A few small fish darted past, but otherwise he saw few signs of life in this place.
Once he neared the waterfall there was no need to be concerned about stirring up silt. Water roiled and churned, bringing visibility down to a few feet. He had worried that the cave, if it truly existed, might have already been discovered. Now, seeing the murky cloud someone would have to penetrate in order to stumble across it, he felt hope rising. He dove down as far as he could, careful to watch for potential snares, and swam hard against the force of the surging water. He kicked harder, creeping inexorably toward his goal.
His hands met stone an instant before his face would have. He found an uneven rock edge and held on tight, his body buffeted by the force of the waterfall. Slowly and methodically, he searched the area below the waterfall. His gloved hands probed each crevice and recess, but to no avail.
Doubts arose anew. What if they were in the wrong place? What if Esau had gotten confused in the retelling, and conflated the memory of the battle with the memory of hiding his treasure in a cave somewhere else entirely? What if there was no treasure at all?
Too many questions. He was here to do a job, and he would do it thoroughly. No way would he go back and tell Bones he had failed unless he had first given it his full effort. Determined to do this right, he resumed the search.
After a few more passes turned up nothing, he was on the verge of declaring the cave a myth when his light fell on an odd rock formation just beyond the area he had been searching. Behind an upright stone formation lay a dark, vertical gash in the wall. His heart pounding, he slid behind the rock and into the crevasse. The way was narrow and his shoulders almost touched the sides, but after a few feet, the fissure opened up again and he came to a sheer wall. He changed direction, followed his bubbles upward, until at last he broke the surface inside a pitch-black cavern.