The Treasures of Death Valley Read online

  The Treasures of Death Valley

  The Secrets of Death Valley, Book 1

  Tom Hunter

  Copyright © 2019 by Tom Hunter

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  One

  Death Valley, 2030

  In the limestone tunnels of a cave near Mustard Canyon, five beams pierced the darkness. The dry coolness was a welcome relief from the oppressive heat above. Headlamps and hand held flashlights lit the way, revealing the cave’s secrets. Illuminated between dancing shadows, the walls boasted childlike drawings; coal dark smudges outlined images smeared in the reds, oranges, browns, and deep yellows of animal pigment. Natural colors bound to the natural world.

  Drenched with sweat from the merciless heat of the California desert sun, Thomas Knight’s clothes clung to him like a second skin. Moving his head in a slow panorama, his light revealed giant men staring down from the wall, immortalized in the crude paintings. Around them were beasts with large heads and elongated bodies, a single hump, and a slight extension suggesting a tail.

  A selection of tunnels led in every direction like spokes on a wheel. Through one of them, Thomas spotted mining rails leading them deeper into the cave’s interior. “As we navigated our way down the incline,” Thomas spoke into a small recording device, “further into the cave, following the mine rails, we came upon an old elevator. Its dust and disuse would pose a caveat to those who would try it.”

  He lowered the recorder, took a breath, and continued. “Hot, sweaty, and exhausted as we were, it seemed a nice way to ease further into the caverns. But, having no idea of how long ago the elevator had been abandoned, its rickety shape a warning, we decided to continue on foot. Though in hindsight, that wasn’t much better.”

  “The slope was wide enough, but with no walls or railings to cling to, or use for stability, we had essentially found an indoor bridge – there would be no safe passage here. We relied on our wits, our stamina, and sheer luck to get us where we are now; here at the bottom of the mine and the sight before us…” his voice dropped the thought, as he gazed at the wall before him. He paused, his finger lifted from the record button, as he thought of the grizzled old man who’d set them on this path.

  He pressed the record button and began again.

  “It’s a dangerous business to go hiking in Death Valley, but some fools do it. A few nights ago, we ran into an old hiker, his skin was like leather with deep wrinkles etched by the sun, cracked lips, and white hair. Who knows what the man had seen in all his years. He seemed part of the landscape or a mirage. But as he passed us, he said something that caught my attention. Just a single word, ‘Nahullo’. I’d seen that word before, in an old article. I hadn’t heard it before or since. We stopped him and asked him to join us for a drink. He smiled as he asked first for beer, then thinking better of it, water first. Then beer.

  “He’d been out hiking, he said, when he’d come across some old bones and tools,” Thomas paused, trying to remember what the old man had said. “’Folks come out here, from time to time, to dig. It’s not much now, but there was a time, this area thrived. Entire civilizations lived here, fought here, and died here. They became the dust and dirt as far as the eye can see,’ as he spread a hand out over the desert lands, extending it to the horizon.

  “His story got our attention,” explained Thomas, “and if there was only a glimmer of something to find, well, then, how could we say no? Using his directions…” Thomas stopped and smiled, recalling the long bony finger stretched to the horizon to show them the way. “No, not directions really. We simply followed which way his finger pointed. Deserts are the opposite of car side mirrors: things in the desert are farther than they at first appear. After a few miscalculations, we’re now at the bottom of the mine he uncovered.”

  “In this, our initial survey of the area,” Thomas concluded, “we have so far discovered shattered wood that may have been used in the construction of mining offices or shacks. In addition, archeological tools such as pickaxes and mining equipment, such as tin pans nearly covered in dirt, are half upended like so many unburied bones. Utensils, too. Relics of another team, in another time.” Pushing the stop button with a resounding click, he took in more of his surroundings.

  As was his habit, every few minutes or so, especially in the dust and grime of the desert, Thomas ran his fingers through his beard. Shaking his head at the small cloud of dust his fingers released, he absentmindedly reached for the small comb in his pocket. Smiling at the memories of his first dig, where he’d acquired this comb, he brushed his beard slowly as he took in each member of his team.

  Thomas Knight’s gaze went first to Howard. He was a young man of average build, but for his youth, he looked exhausted. Could he be suffering from heat stroke? It would make the most sense. Though Howard was of average build he wasn’t overweight, and didn’t seem to be out of shape. As Thomas pondered why the youngest of their small crew should look the most worn out, his attention turned toward Ramon.

  Ramon hadn’t been with them long. In fact, he and Howard had joined the team around the same time. Tall and bulky, he wore the chip on his shoulder like a freshly pressed suit. He was the fly in the ointment, and he liked it that way. Ramon was heavier than Howard, but not overweight. He was solid muscle, thick-necked, his hair wound into tight cornrows. His stance suggested some kind of military training, but Thomas saw only strong, capable, and willing to handle the heaviest gear.

  Dressed much like Thomas, and the other team members, he was doubled up in gear for climbing and spelunking. Tattoos peeked above his collar, and from the edge of his sleeves leaking onto his hands. Some of it meant something, some of it didn’t. The scars at his lip, at his eye, and down one cheek belied the others that hid beneath his clothes, many of them covered or consumed by his tattoos. And on his back, his pack carried their provisions.

  As Thomas smiled at the thought of candles and matches, he took in Pediah Lapp. Pediah had been with him the longest. A skilled spelunker fresh from Amishville, er Ohio, practical and practiced, the only reminder to his past was the suspenders he wore. It seemed to Thomas that the moment the comb for his beard was in hand, Pediah’s thumbs were tucked into his suspenders. It was the last vestige of a world he’d given up for the chance to be an explorer.

  If only the entire team could be so close, Thomas thought. Though they were the same age, Pediah’s goofy smile, and scraggly bit of facial hair made him look much younger. Tall and lanky, he reminded Thomas of Shaggy from the Scooby Doo cartoons, but Pediah was not easily frightened. He was an adventurer at heart, misplaced slang and all.

  “It was just a mine or something, right?” Pediah asked, as they traversed the wide downslope bridge further into the cave.

  “I’m not sure,” Thomas responded, his eyes sparkling, “but with a bit of luck we’ll find proof of life in these caves. According to the old hiker’s story, we’ll find something worthy of funding an expedition. It was a type of mine at one point, sure, but for what? There’s no coal or diamonds, but somebody was looking for something.” Thomas thought for a minute. “Well…maybe,” he offered slowly, “maybe I’m wrong and there were veins of precious gems or metals here. Who knows? Hopefully, we’ll find something worthy of a full excavation. Like, say, a new civilization or something.” The beam from Pediah’s flashlight caught the sparkle in Thomas’s eyes. “Ready team? Let’s go!” waving them onward to follow him.

  “Yeah!”
exclaimed Howard.

  “Let’s rock and roll!” shouted Pediah, one hand raised in a gesture he’d seen on a music poster somewhere.

  “Ready!” Ramon’s deep and heavily accented voice echoed in the chamber.

  One foot raised to take a step, a great grinding sound greeted their ears. It was the sound of stone on stone. Something was closing or opening. The quaking beneath their feet didn’t bode well either. The earth shook beneath them as they struggled to maintain their balance.

  “Wha- what’s happening?” Howard’s wavering voice matched the unsteadiness of the earth below.

  Howard’s fear echoed Thomas’ own. Though his heart raced, as he strove to keep his balance, Thomas fought to keep back the terror. What the hell was happening here?

  “Not. Sure. Shifting…sands? Thomas? Any ideas?” Pediah, his arms outstretched for balance, his head down, half turned toward Howard, wavered between Thomas in front of him, and Howard behind him. In the seconds between the two exchanges, Ramon, bringing up the rear, lost his footing.

  “Don’t know. Ramon!” After years of archeological digs and groundbreaking excavations, Thomas had a sixth sense when it came to members of his team. He could have sworn he felt the air whoosh by, as the unstable footing below them gave way completely under Ramon’s weight.

  Unlike the others, Ramon had walked closer along the edge of the downward slope, and the shifting limestone and silt beneath his feet buckled. One minute, he was regaining his balance. In the next, he hung from the ledge clinging to it, his knuckles white with the strain of holding on, weighed down by his backpack and gear. All those pushups and chin ups helped, but gravity was winning.

  “Aaahhh!!! Socorro! Help!” Ramon bellowed, his feet treading air.

  Two

  “Hang on, Ramon!” Thomas turned to help him, when the ground rumbled and shook again. “Whoa,” he coaxed, half to the earth and half to his thumping heartbeat. “I’m comin’ for ya. Who knew being this far below the ground, would be like bein’ on a boat in choppy waters, huh?” Though he tried to make light of the situation, he knew if he didn’t move lightning quick, Ramon might fall into the blackness below.

  Thomas sprang into action. Half sliding, half walking, he fell to his knees, scraping the palm of his hands on the rock and grabbed hold of Ramon’s wrist. “I’ve got ya…Pediah! Howard! Help me pull him up!” Ramon’s bulk, along with the weight of his pack and gear, was wearing against Thomas’s strength. He needed help, and was glad to hear Pediah and Howard rushing to his other side to help him.

  Thank god! Straining to pull Ramon up, he felt Ramon slipping from his grasp. “Hold on! No one’s ever gonna die on my watch.” Just as the other two reached him, Pediah went for Ramon’s other wrist, and Howard went to relieve Thomas.

  The rumbling subsided, and together they pulled Ramon back from the brink. Tumbling backwards slightly, with Ramon back on solid ground, they rolled onto their sides to rest and catch their breath.

  Taking a few deep breaths to slow his heart rate, Howard looked to the others as their chests heaved. “H-hey.” Howard sucked in air, then blew it out with a whoosh, “Hey, guys. Everyone. Everyone alright?”

  “What the hell was that!” Ramon shot off first, still shaken by his near-death experience.

  “No idea. Are we near a fault line or something? This is Cali-forn-I.A.” Pediah ventured, a weak curve of his lips trying to become his usual goofy smile.

  The others just looked at him and rolled their eyes. Pediah was light years away from his old life, but he hadn’t quite gotten the hang of this one. Thomas smiled at Pediah, shaking his head slowly. Poor kid, he thought, he’s just trying to find the good in what might have been a very bad situation.

  “Could be…” began Thomas, “but honestly, I haven’t the foggiest. Actually, I’m more interested, er curious, about the grinding noise we heard before the ‘quake’” – making a quotation mark in the air. “Did anyone else hear a grinding noise?”

  A chorus of “yeahs” greeted him.

  Thomas stroked his beard in contemplation. “Any ideas what it might have been?” he asked.

  He looked at his team, then offered his own suggestion first. “Sounded like stone on stone to me. Something closing? Opening?” Then, “I’m open guys, let’s hear it. I’m all ears.”

  “Well, this was an old mine of some kind, right?” Pediah asked.

  “Yeah…” Howard and Ramon whispered, catching on quickly to Pediah’s train of thought.

  “Well, does any of the stuff still work? I mean, we chose not to use the old elevator. But, that doesn’t mean someone else didn’t…” his voice trailed off at the suggestion, as Howard looked to Thomas his eyes asking the question his mouth couldn’t.

  “That’s a good point, Pediah.” Thomas’s eyes locked onto Howard’s. “So, what you’re suggesting is…” a long pause, as he moved his gaze from Howard to Ramon, and finally to Pediah. “What you’re suggesting is that someone else may be in here?”

  “I don’t know. But, it’s the only thing I can think of, short of that boulder-over-the-entrance scene, from just about any movie with a treasure cave in it.” Ramon smiled. “Well, we won’t find out anything just sitting here.” And with that, Thomas stood up. Dusting off his pants, he took the comb out of his pocket, and combed his beard. “I’m not sure I can guarantee everyone’s safety without checking out the geological makeup of this area… But… c’mon! We couldn’t pass this up! Relics of another dig? Something big is down there; I can feel it. I really want to go on…” Thomas sighed. “But, we really ought to turn back, so I can check for fault lines around here.”

  “Yeah,” Pediah began. “What if it happens again?”

  “Oh, hell no! I didn’t come all the way down here to find nothing, and retreat back to the surface,” Ramon argued. He was hot, grumpy, and much preferred the one and done way. Ramon shook his head and opened his mouth to let out a string of expletives in Portuguese, when Thomas beat him to the punch. “Hey. We just pulled you off a ledge, man. No. No one’s dying or getting injured on my watch. We go in together. We come out together. That’s that.”

  “He’s kind of got a point. We’re pretty far in already…” Howard trailed off, as Pediah and Thomas stared at him in surprise.

  Ramon’s eyebrows shot up. I’ll be damned. The kid agrees with me?

  “Besides,” Howard went on, surprised at his own brashness, “it was him – Ramon there, who nearly died, and he wants to go on? I don’t see the harm in moving forward. We survived, and the quaking’s stopped.” He looked to Pediah for support.

  “True…the rumblings have subsided.” Pediah said, with a sideways glance at Thomas. “However, the fact remains, we are not for sure it’s safe. Who’s to say the whole thing won’t start over again. Or worse.” He turned to Ramon, “You might not be so lucky next time, or well, any of us, really. It could be any of us.”

  Pediah’s eyes caught Howard’s. “He’s right,” said Thomas, with a nod to Pediah. “We don’t know the safety of the route further in, either. I can’t guarantee…anything….”

  Thomas’s voice trailed off, as he heard Ramon guffaw. “Look, I signed on to explore this cave, and I mean to do it. With or without you.”

  Toe to toe with Ramon, Thomas eyeballed Ramon’s chest, and looked up. “Silence!” he growled. Catching the giant Brazilian’s eye, he spoke clearly and slowly, “This is my team. I am responsible for every member of it. Though to the victor may go the spoils, I am not willing to jeopardize any member of my team.” Each word was a verbal finger to the chest.

  In response, Ramon recalled an English phrase he’d learned long ago, “Risk is its own reward.” Then, in what the team assumed to be an attempt at a smile, he went in for the kill. “Treasure? That is a golden parachute bonus. Do what you want, I’m going further in. Who’s coming with me?”

  Howard took a tentative step forward. “C’mon kid. Got some balls after all, don’t ya?”

  “Look,
I said it as you hung by a thread,” Thomas growled. “It must not have gotten through your thick head the first time. No one is dying on my watch. That still includes you, and him – he nodded to Howard, and him,” a quick nod toward Pediah. The rest of the team nodded in affirmation. Ramon just stared, furious.

  Thomas stared back, with the same fire of determination. “I get it. Everyone wants to be the first to discover something. But I’m not putting lives in danger just so you, I, or we, can claim the glory of a find. What good is the find if we’re all dead? Didn’t think of that, did ya?” Thomas finished in a rush, hoping his point had hit home – with everyone, not just Ramon. He didn’t relish having this conversation again. With anyone, including himself.

  Ramon’s deep voice reverberated in the caverns. “I took this job knowing the risks! That is part of the game. It is life. Walk out your front door, you take the risk to make it down the street or hit by a car. Life is risk. I don’t need or want the glory. I want the money! What’s the expression? ‘Money talks. Bullshit walks.’ Treasure in hand, I can make a fortune. If you want the glory or the money, come with me.”

  Everyone tensed, not only at the standoff, but, at the innate concern that all that shouting might bring another round of broken earth rumbling under their feet again. Unspoken decisions and concerns danced liked shadows across their faces. The team, as a single unit, was unraveling. They’d never been that close knit, but deep in a cave with a tendency to shake humans off like a dog shakes off fleas, it was imperative they cooperated, and stayed together. But, divided we fall seemed closer to reality.

  Batting a back hand toward Thomas, Ramon thought, he is stubborn. I’ll give him that. But, I’m going further in. The idea of treasure, its uses, the money, all the temptations it entailed, further enticed him. “I have no intention of going back. How many times I must say it? What I find, I bring to the surface. That’s final.”