Code(58)

“The sun symbol matches.” I waved the black-and-white cloth. “The cache must be hidden in that tomb, and we’ve got less than eight hours on the clock. Or did you want to come back after dark?”


“No, sir!” Shelton shivered. Literally. “I’m not down for midnight tomb raiding.”

“Tory’s right.” Hi was peering back toward the bridge. “We’re alone, and already flaring. A quick in and out, and nobody knows the difference.”

“Nobody but God!” Shelton squeaked. “That’s holy ground!”

“Enough.” Ben gripped the wall and vaulted over with ease. “Come on if you’re coming.”

“A little help,” I requested.

Hi intertwined his fingers. I stepped up, swung a leg over the wall, and dropped inside. Hi scrambled over next, losing his balance and tumbling in a heap. Ben grabbed Shelton’s outstretched arms and pulled him across.

I tossed a guilty glance over one shoulder, eyes and ears on full alert.

No one in sight. No sound of alarm.

We mean no disrespect.

The mausoleum’s marble walls formed a square structure no larger than a minivan. Three steps led up to a door flanked by stone columns and sealed by an iron grate. Faded Latin phrases decorated the sides.

Shelton sighed. “We’re really going in?”

I pointed to the rising sun adorning the roof. “Seems pretty clear.”

“Stop wasting time.” Ben motioned Shelton forward. “Open sesame.”

“Since you asked so nicely.” Shelton stepped to the grate, lock pick set in hand, head shaking in disapproval. “You’re lucky. I almost didn’t bring these with me.”

“The coast is still clear.” Hi was keeping watch on the trail. “But I feel like a grave robber.”

“We won’t disturb anything.” I meant it. “The dead will understand.”

“Hope so.” Hi wiped sweaty palms on his blue checkerboard shorts. “I can’t be haunted this semester. I’ve got a full schedule.”

A rusty screech signaled that Shelton had beaten the first barrier. I cringed, but no one appeared. Shelton moved to the stone door.

“We’ve got to be careful inside.” Ben’s voice was tight. “The last cache was dangerous. This one might be, too.”

“Got it!” Shelton straightened. “Somebody tell the brothers these locks are a joke.”

“Let’s move.” Ben swung the door inward, revealing a steep staircase descending into darkness.

“Oh come on!” Shelton’s hands flew to his head. “Underground? You can’t be serious!”

“It’s a short flight,” I said, trying to soothe Shelton’s nerves as I peered down into the gloom. “I have flashlights in my pack.”

“Shh!” Shelton froze. “I heard something.”

Hi inhaled sharply. “Someone’s crossing the bridge!”

“Inside!” I hissed. “Ben, close us in!”

“Hide in the dead man’s house!?” Shelton looked frantic. “That’s your plan?”

“Move!” I pushed Hi and Shelton toward the steps. “We can check for the cache while the person passes.”

We scurried inside. The hinges squeaked again as Ben pulled the door shut.

“What about the outer grate?” I asked. “Did you close it, too?”

Ben shook his head. “Too much noise. The door alone might’ve given us away.”

“Lights, please?” Shelton’s voice cracked.

Fumbling in the darkness, I handed one flashlight to Ben and powered the other. Slowly, we crept down the stone stairs.

Ten steps, then we entered a dusty chamber three times the size of the monument above. A sarcophagus sat at center stage. I swung my beam, scrutinizing the room with my flare vision. Crumbling stone markers adorned the walls, each engraved with a name and date.

“The boss man must be in here.” Hi rapped the sarcophagus with a fist. “Whoever that is. And his family is probably stashed in the walls.”

“Look!” Ben’s light was trained on the sarcophagus lid. A rising sun was chiseled into the rock.

Then Ben’s beam caught a splash of color. Scarlet.

I added my light to his. An object was resting beside the symbol.

A single rose, tied with a purple ribbon. Flaring, I could make out every delicate petal, could tease the components of its fragrance from the stale air.

The ribbon was stamped with a row of leering clown faces.

There could be no mistake.

“Wait.” Hi cleared his throat. “Does that mean . . . Are we supposed to . . . ?”

“Open the coffin?” Shelton backpedaled fast. “No chance!”

“But the Game,” I countered weakly. “The bomb. It’ll explode if we don’t . . .”

My voice trailed off. Necessary or not, like Shelton I had serious issues with disturbing someone’s final resting place.

“We have no choice!” Ben’s lips tightened as his neck flushed red. “If we don’t find the cache, everyone loses.”

“He’s right.” Steeling myself. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Be careful,” Ben warned again. “Keep an eye out for traps. Or hidden cameras.”