A Treasure Deep (37 page)

They decided that wood planks should be
bolted together, sandwiching the ladders together. This would
provide a rigid deck as well as keep the ladders securely apart but
still part of the structural whole. When done, they would have a
narrow, wood-and-aluminum bridge similar to a ship’s boarding ramp.
It would be fourteen feet long. The ladders set on edge would
provide the strength to hold a man’s weight; the planking would
provide a deck upon which to stand.

While the others worked, Perry took Anne
aside. “I want to thank you for helping Gleason save my bacon,” he
said. “You shouldn’t be here, but I’m glad you are.”

“Turnabout is fair play,” she said. “In some
ways, your words saved my life.”

“Why are you here?” Perry asked. “It’s a
little early for most people.”

She told him about her conversation in the
restaurant with one of his workers. “I became concerned,” she said.
“I don’t know why, but I just felt that something wasn’t
right.”

“Several things aren’t right,” Perry
said.

“You seem rushed,” Anne said. “I didn’t get
that impression last time I was here. You were working swiftly but
carefully. Now your crew is told not to show up, and you almost
lose your life. What’s happened?”

Perry started to dismiss her question. The
fewer people who knew of the problem the better, but somehow that
decision seemed wrong. She was in the right place at the right time
to help save his life and that was because of . . . of what?
Instinct? Was her arrival coincidence? Perry doubted that.
Coincidence was seldom what it seemed. Anne had shown up because
she’d followed a leading in her heart. She’d become God’s
instrument to save Perry’s life.

Some would scoff at that idea. The
rationalist might appeal to luck or twist of fate, but Perry found
nothing rational in that philosophy. He was a man who tried to
remain open to the leading of God. What better time than this to
trust that leading?

“Anne, I’m going to tell you a story. You may
or may not believe it, but I assure you it’s true. And I may need
your help to save two lives. But you must keep everything in the
strictest confidence. Do you understand?”

“I do” was all she said. Perry found her
decisiveness endearing.

Perry took her back to the early morning
hours when he intervened in the attack on Dr. Henri. Over the next
hour, while Jack and the others built the jury-rigged bridge, Perry
laid out the unbelievable account up to the point where he crashed
through the floor. She occasionally asked questions but spent most
of the time listening to each word.

“Pretty wild story, isn’t it?” Perry finally
said.

“Wild is right. Sounds like something from a
movie script.”

“Well, I have the bruises to prove it
isn’t.”

“And this mysterious visitor is supposed to
be back tonight?”

Perry nodded. “Two lives rest on my ability
to retrieve what’s in that chamber.”

“Can you really release the treasure?” Anne
asked. “I believe life is sacred, but . . .”

“I’m not sacrificing Claire and Joseph,”
Perry declared. “I’ll just have to find a way to make things work.”
Moments of silence flowed, and the two walked through the field.
The sun was higher, and its warmth was being pushed through the
trees and tall grass by a new breeze. “The God who made those trees
is still in control,” Perry said. “I must trust in Him.”

“You’re going to need His help,” Anne said.
“You can also count on me. I’ll help in any way I can.”

“Thank you,” Perry said. “I may need your
help with Sergeant Montulli. If he gets wind of this, he’ll want to
intervene. I understand that; I even admire it, but we’re dealing
with the worst kind of man. He seems to have power, intelligence,
and no conscience. For now, I have to play his game. If Montulli
interferes, my friends will be killed.”

“I understand,” Anne said. “But at some point
the police are going to have to get involved.”

“At the right time, Anne, at the right
time.”

Jack shouted across the field. “We’re set,
Perry. Let’s rock and roll on this.”

“Rock and roll?” Anne said with a raised
eyebrow.

“Don’t let him fool you. He only listens to
polka music.”

Perry led Anne back to the work area and
prayed that he had done the right thing in telling her all that he
had.

IT TOOK ALL four men to carry the awkward contraption
down to the chamber; each one fell at least once on the way. The
sun continued its climb in the sky, shortening shadows and bathing
the work area in more light. Very little of that light would make
it into the chamber, so two additional flashlights were brought
along. Anne had volunteered to carry them. More light would be made
available by portable work lights run from the generator. Perry had
run the electric line himself while his friends finished cobbling
together the ladder-bridge.

Working like a well-drilled team, the men
angled, twisted, and turned the long, ridged bridge through the
opening Perry and Jack had made in the stone wall. It was stressful
work and sweat poured freely, especially from Dr. Curtis. No one
complained; each focused on what needed to be done.

Once in place, the makeshift bridge worked
better than hoped. More than half of it was in the floorless
chamber. To keep it from tipping and falling down the shaft, the
crew had to weigh down the exposed end with their bodies. Perry
called out directions and, after fifteen minutes of effort, managed
to rest the far end on the small ledge at the base of the opposite
and inner stone wall. Slowly the men released their end. The bridge
stayed in place.

“It’s almost level,” Jack said. “The guy who
dug the trench deserves a medal. Oh, that would be me.”

“I’ll see that you get everything you have
coming to you,” Perry quipped. “The question is: Will the other
side hold once weight is put on?”

“We can’t chance it,” Jack said. “We have to
weigh this end down with at least twice what’s going to be on the
other side.”

“Agreed,” Perry answered. “Let’s start with
the stones we removed from the wall. We can pile them on. There’s
at least five hundred pounds of rock there, maybe more. That should
provide enough counterbalance for one person. We can retrieve a
couple of shovels and cover the stones in a mound of dirt. That
should add weight too.”

“Good idea,” Jack said.

Dr. Curtis groaned.

“I’m sorry, Doc,” Perry said. “But we don’t
have the privilege of doing things slowly. Your stones have
survived centuries under the dirt. They’ll survive a few more
hours.”

“I know, I know,” Curtis said with a resigned
wave of a hand. “Do what you must.”

The work began. Brent went to retrieve the
shovels while Perry, Jack, and Gleason loaded on the stones from
the wall. It took another thirty minutes to return a portion of the
dirt dug by the excavator to the trench and bury the stones on the
near end of the bridge.

When done, Perry stepped over one of the
ladders and examined the work. “I think that’s it. If the ledge on
the other side gives way, our bridge will be fully cantilevered. It
should hold.”

Perry turned. “Now for the real test. Hand me
a flashlight, Anne.” She passed over the light, exchanging a
meaningful glance with Perry as she did.

“Hang on a second,” Jack said.

Perry stopped and turned to see Jack step on
the ladder-bridge, back up to the dirt mound, and sit on it. “Just
contributing another 280 pounds to the safety process. If this
thing tips and your end goes down, I’ll come sliding after you, so
be careful. Mama Dyson would miss her little boy.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Perry
said. “Gleason, since Jack has decided to sit down on the job,
you’ll have to set up the work light after I get in there.”

“Will do,” Gleason said.

Perry turned to Dr. Curtis. “Doc, I’m going
to be removing some of the stones . . .”

“And you can’t keep walking them back here,
nor can you set them on the bridge without turning this into a
seesaw,” Curtis sighed. “Just drop them down the shaft.”

The words went against every fiber of
Curtis’s archaeology sensibility, and Perry knew it. He also knew
that Curtis understood that life was more important than
artifacts.

“‘For You light my lamp; the Lord my God
illumines my darkness,’” Perry quoted. “I could use some
illumination, Lord.”

Perry walked through the opening, leaving
behind the bright light of morning for tomb-like darkness.

The hurriedly constructed bridge felt solid
under Perry’s feet. The slim ledge seemed to hold. He’d hoped that
by counter balancing the device with the rocks and dirt—and Jack’s
added bulk—the downward force on the shelf would be minimal. His
theory held, so far.

The chamber was cool, damp, and dark. The
flashlight in his hand helped push away some of the black, but it
couldn’t exhaust it. Perry wanted to look down toward the sound of
water that ran through the aquifer but chose not to. Curiosity was
a powerful force in his life, but today he had a more pressing job
before him.

“I’m at the wall,” he said loudly, his voice
echoing off the stones.

Dirt trickled down from the ceiling like soot
from a forest fire. A new concern entered his mind. He had no idea
how secure the ceiling was now. It had spent hundreds of years
under the compression of nearly fifty feet of soil. The compression
was now gone. How would the timbers and the stones above them
react? Moisture that had been kept from the supporting timbers by
the treacherous stone floor now had free access. Would that weaken
an already precarious structure? If the ceiling collapsed, it would
mean the end of Perry and the bridge.

Suddenly the chamber was awash in brightness.
Gleason had activated the work light. Its powerful beam was
blinding at first, and it cast a shadow of Perry’s body against the
wall. The light was set low, so Perry’s shadow reached from ceiling
to bridge. After his eyes adjusted, the work light was a big help,
but Perry still had use for the flashlight in his hand. Running its
beam along the surface of the wall, he studied each stone within
reach, hoping to find an indication of a previous opening.

He was not disappointed.

Just as with the first wall, this one had a
pair of large stones that seemed to be placed as lintels. Once
Perry felt he had discovered all there was to be discovered about
the stone partition, he clipped the flashlight to his belt, raised
his gloved hand, and set it on the first stone to be removed. It
was positioned right below the large stone header. Unlike the other
opening, Perry had planned to make this one as small as possible
but still allow the free passage of a man.

“We’re dying of suspense out here,” Gleason
called in. “How about some play-by-play before we have
coronaries?”

Perry chuckled, as much from nerves as from
Gleason’s request. “The wall is identical in construction to the
first, including a couple of cantilevered lintels. The stones are
fitted tightly together. It looks like mud or something was used to
fill the joints. It’s a masterpiece. I’m getting ready to pull the
first stone. Stand by.”

“We’re not going anywhere without you,”
Gleason said.

“Good,” Perry retorted. “You know how I hate
to be alone.”

He took a deep breath and wondered if the
builders were devious enough to create a wall that would cave in on
itself if tampered with. Tightening his grip on the first stone, he
pulled. Nothing. He pulled again, attempting to wiggle the stone
from side to side; bits of compacted dirt fell from the joints.
Hermetically sealed, Perry thought. A good sign. He pulled gently
but firmly. Still nothing. He was considering trying another rock
when it finally budged. Gently he pulled, and the stone came
free.

Perry waited for something to happen: for the
ceiling to crash down or the wall before him to fall forward in a
single mass, squashing him like a bug under a boot. Neither
happened. The only result he could detect was a dank, sour smell
rushing out of the small opening. The chamber was breathing for the
first time in two millennia.

“First stone is out,” Perry announced. He
held it up and examined it for a moment. It looked like all the
others. He dropped it over the side. It took a full second before
he heard it crash into the water below. There was no doubt now; the
pit was deep.

“Tell me that was the stone,” Gleason said
with apprehension.

“It was the stone. I’m removing the next
one.” The next stone came free easily, as did the next. One by one,
Perry gently removed stone after stone, dropping each into the pit
and forcing himself to ignore the cracking, splashing sound. In
what seemed like hours, Perry had successfully removed enough
stones to leave an opening of three feet wide by four feet high. It
was enough for now.

“I have a decent-sized opening now,” Perry
announced. “It’s time to take a peek.”

He pulled the flashlight from his belt, took
a deep breath, and tried to calm his anxious nerves. It was a
monumental task. Leaning forward, he clicked on the light and shone
it in the room.

The beam pushed through the ebony darkness
and reflected off dust that floated in the air. The dust, Perry
assumed, had been set to flight by his removal of the stones. The
light shone on the distant wall. “I see another stone wall about
ten feet back. I assume that it’s the back wall of the chamber.” He
aimed the light up. “The ceiling is identical to the one in this
room.” Perry let the light track down the wall.

His heart thundered in anticipation. His
mouth was dry; his stomach became a tight knot. Slowly, he let the
light fall until it fell on something different than a stone wall.
There was a protrusion, a bench made of stones identical to the
chamber. Perry let the light trace the bench. It rose from the
floor by three feet, and he estimated it to be seven feet in
length. From his location he couldn’t judge its depth.