merely sleeping after all. Thinking to rattle the iron with a sound loud enough to rouse them, he put his hand to the grate and gave it a shake.
The door swung open at his touch.
The Burley Man pushed it open and stepped inside. He could dimly make out the great bulk of the stone sarcophagus in the centre of the room, but the rest of the chamber remained steeped in darkness. He could not see into the corners, but a heavy stillness lay all about and the air reeked with the sickly pungent sweet stench of death.
Pressing the back of his hand to his nose, Dex turned and fled the room. What are we doing in this awful place anyway , he wondered. What’s the point?
Back outside, he sucked in clean air, then went to the equipment room to crank the generator to life and switch on the lights. He paused at the mess tent to dip the hem of his kaftan in some vinegar, then returned to the tomb. This time, with the lights on and the vinegar-soaked material over his mouth and nose, he confirmed what he feared: the captives were gone.
Spinning on his heel, he ran back up the stairs and out into the wadi, shouting, “The prisoners have escaped!”
Con and Mal were still in the bunk tent and seemed unimpressed with this news. “Pipe down, will you?” muttered Mal, a hand to his head. “It’s too early to be yelling like that.”
“What’re you on about?” asked Con.
“The prisoners aren’t in the cell. They’re gone. They must have escaped somehow.”
“You sure?” Mal regarded him with suspicion.
“Of course, I’m sure. Idiot!”
“Okay, okay, keep your shirt on.”
“What about the other two?” asked Con. “They still there?”
“Which other two?”
“The dead ones. Who do you think?”
“Yeah, they’re still there.”
“They still dead?” wondered Mal.
“Shut up,” snarled Dex. “I’m warning you.”
“They can’t have got far,” Con said. “We’ll find ’em.”
“You better hope so—and before Tav gets back. He won’t like this.”
The three trooped out into the canyon.
“I’ll get Baby,” said Con. “Maybe she can track them down.”
“I doubt it,” said Dex. “Leave her. Go get the guns instead. Those two yobs don’t know their way around the wadi, so we should still be able to catch them before they work out how to get out of here.”
Armed and keen to recover their charges, the three Burley Men set off to work their way along the two main branches of the dry ravine. “Mal, you check out the back way,” ordered Dex. “And, Con—you come with me. We’ll take the big wadi.” The other stood looking at him. “Well? Let’s get cracking.”
Mal turned and soon disappeared along the winding path that was the canyon bottom. Dex and Con made their way towards its mouth, moving quickly, senses alert to any stray sight or sound. They passed the burial niches of a former age and civilisation, quickly searching those large enough to hide a fugitive or two.
After walking at least halfway to the end, they stopped to reassess the chase. “Maybe they went up over the top,” suggested Con. “If they’d have come this way, we would have picked up some trace of them by now.”
“Could be you’re right,” agreed Dex. “And we would have heard Mal’s signal if he’d found anything. Let’s go back. There’s a cutting back there at the bend. We can climb up that way and have a good look ’round.”
The two retraced their steps, following the undulating gorge back towards the camp. At the bend—a great curving bank of mottled sandstone—the wadi made a lazy quarter-circle from southwest to a more northerly direction. A deep natural crevice in the rock face had been widened by the tomb builders at some time in the past, and shallow steps were cut in the stone to form a crude staircase leading up out of the wadi to the plateau above. The two scrambled up the crease, eventually gaining the top. Whatever they hoped to glimpse from that high vantage, they did not see.
A
The door swung open at his touch.
The Burley Man pushed it open and stepped inside. He could dimly make out the great bulk of the stone sarcophagus in the centre of the room, but the rest of the chamber remained steeped in darkness. He could not see into the corners, but a heavy stillness lay all about and the air reeked with the sickly pungent sweet stench of death.
Pressing the back of his hand to his nose, Dex turned and fled the room. What are we doing in this awful place anyway , he wondered. What’s the point?
Back outside, he sucked in clean air, then went to the equipment room to crank the generator to life and switch on the lights. He paused at the mess tent to dip the hem of his kaftan in some vinegar, then returned to the tomb. This time, with the lights on and the vinegar-soaked material over his mouth and nose, he confirmed what he feared: the captives were gone.
Spinning on his heel, he ran back up the stairs and out into the wadi, shouting, “The prisoners have escaped!”
Con and Mal were still in the bunk tent and seemed unimpressed with this news. “Pipe down, will you?” muttered Mal, a hand to his head. “It’s too early to be yelling like that.”
“What’re you on about?” asked Con.
“The prisoners aren’t in the cell. They’re gone. They must have escaped somehow.”
“You sure?” Mal regarded him with suspicion.
“Of course, I’m sure. Idiot!”
“Okay, okay, keep your shirt on.”
“What about the other two?” asked Con. “They still there?”
“Which other two?”
“The dead ones. Who do you think?”
“Yeah, they’re still there.”
“They still dead?” wondered Mal.
“Shut up,” snarled Dex. “I’m warning you.”
“They can’t have got far,” Con said. “We’ll find ’em.”
“You better hope so—and before Tav gets back. He won’t like this.”
The three trooped out into the canyon.
“I’ll get Baby,” said Con. “Maybe she can track them down.”
“I doubt it,” said Dex. “Leave her. Go get the guns instead. Those two yobs don’t know their way around the wadi, so we should still be able to catch them before they work out how to get out of here.”
Armed and keen to recover their charges, the three Burley Men set off to work their way along the two main branches of the dry ravine. “Mal, you check out the back way,” ordered Dex. “And, Con—you come with me. We’ll take the big wadi.” The other stood looking at him. “Well? Let’s get cracking.”
Mal turned and soon disappeared along the winding path that was the canyon bottom. Dex and Con made their way towards its mouth, moving quickly, senses alert to any stray sight or sound. They passed the burial niches of a former age and civilisation, quickly searching those large enough to hide a fugitive or two.
After walking at least halfway to the end, they stopped to reassess the chase. “Maybe they went up over the top,” suggested Con. “If they’d have come this way, we would have picked up some trace of them by now.”
“Could be you’re right,” agreed Dex. “And we would have heard Mal’s signal if he’d found anything. Let’s go back. There’s a cutting back there at the bend. We can climb up that way and have a good look ’round.”
The two retraced their steps, following the undulating gorge back towards the camp. At the bend—a great curving bank of mottled sandstone—the wadi made a lazy quarter-circle from southwest to a more northerly direction. A deep natural crevice in the rock face had been widened by the tomb builders at some time in the past, and shallow steps were cut in the stone to form a crude staircase leading up out of the wadi to the plateau above. The two scrambled up the crease, eventually gaining the top. Whatever they hoped to glimpse from that high vantage, they did not see.
A
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