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  She retired to her tent immediately after eating, as she had made it her custom to do. When she opened her pack, she found the map in the same pocket, but not in the same position. So they had looked at it, for all the good it had done them. She double-checked the next portion of the code to make certain she had deciphered it right the first time. Then, satisfied that everything was okay, she undressed and stretched out to sleep. She felt more exhausted than normal; dealing with Ben Lewis took a lot of a woman’s energy.

  The next set of directions took them deeper into the mountains, and the way became increasingly torturous. They had to scramble up and down ravines, and the footing was so slippery that Ben resorted to linking them together with rope like mountain climbers. The amount of ground they could cover in one day was cut at least in half. Most worrisome of all, they had to take so many detours that Jillian was constantly fearful that she would miss the next landmark. Still, she couldn’t see any other way they could have gone. It would have taken expert mountaineers with rappelling equipment to scale some of those cliffs. They were taking the path that was open to them; there was no other choice.

  On the fifth day of such climbing, they were caught on a narrow, winding trail on the side of a mountain when a storm blew up, hard and fast. There was no way they could get to shelter, and there wasn’t any room on the trail to even get under one of the tarps. The trail was little more than a natural ledge carved into the mountainside, with vertical walls above and below. They were totally exposed to the wind and pelting rain, with the lightning stabbing around them and thunder booming right over their heads.

  “Get as close against the wall as you can, and crouch down!” Ben bellowed, working his way down the line so all could hear him. Then he returned to where Jillian sat with her back against the cold stone, her head and shoulders hunched against the rain. He crouched beside her, wrapping his arms around her and shielding her as best he could from the stinging force of the rain. A tropical rainstorm wasn’t a gentle thing; it roared and battered, the immense force of it tearing leaves from trees and sending creatures scurrying for cover.

  She huddled in his embrace and stoically prepared to wait out the storm. It would have been suicidal to try to negotiate the ledge in such violent weather, not to mention useless, for the storm would certainly be over long before they could reach any sort of shelter.

  Minutes dragged by while the deluge beat down on them. Rivulets from above began to grow in width and strength, sluicing down on them, swirling muddy water about their feet. The storm seemed interminable as they crouched there for what seemed like hours, cowering from the lightning and on edge at every sound. But suddenly it was gone, moving on through the mountains with metallic echoes of thunder. The rain stopped, and the sun came out, almost blinding in its brightness.

  Cautiously they stood, stretching cramped legs and backs. Just as they did, Martim shook a cigarette out of his waterproof pack and reached for his lighter. The wet metal slipped from his fingers and fell across the path. In a reflex, without thinking, he stepped forward to get it.

  It all happened in an instant.

  “Not so close,” Ben called sharply.

  There was a whooshing, sodden sound, and Martim had time only for a strangled cry of terror as the ground collapsed beneath his feet and he disappeared from view. It seemed as if they could hear his scream for a long time before it abruptly ended.

  “Shit!” Ben exploded into action, unlooping a section of the rope he carried slung over his shoulder. “Get back!” he roared. “Everybody stay away from the edge. The rain softened it.” Obediently they moved to huddle once again against the mountain, their faces blank with shock.

  There was nothing on which to anchor the rope, so he tied it under his arms and tossed one end to Pepe. “Don’t let me go over,” he said, and stretched out full length to slither to the edge.

  Jillian started forward, her heart lodged in her throat, but forced herself to stop. Her added weight would only increase his danger. Instead she poised herself, ready to jump and add her strength to Pepe’s if the ground beneath Ben gave out too.

  Cautiously Ben peered over the edge. “Martim!”

  There was no answer, though he called twice more. He twisted his head around. “Binoculars.”

  Swiftly Jorge found them and slid them across the sodden ground to Ben’s outstretched hand, taking care not to go too close.

  Ben put the binoculars to his eyes and focused them. He was silent for a long minute, then tossed them back to Jorge and began slithering away from the edge.

  “Sherwood, take Martim’s place with the litter,” he said tersely, and Rick was shocked enough that he moved to obey without complaint.

  Jillian’s face was white and strained. By chance she had been looking right at Martim when he went over, and she had seen the expression of utter horror and helplessness in his eyes as the earth gave way beneath him. The knowledge of his own death had been there, and there hadn’t been anything he could do. Her father had also died from a fall in these mountains. Had it been on this very ledge? Had that same sick, helpless look of realization been in his eyes, too?

  “What are we going to do?” she asked in an almost toneless voice.

  Ben gave her a sharp look. “We move on. We have to get off this ledge.”

  “But... we have to go down. He might not be dead.” She felt they had to at least make the effort, even though, logically, she knew it would have taken a miracle for Martim to have survived. “And if... if he is dead, we have to bury him.”

  “We can’t get to him,” Ben replied, edging closer to her. He didn’t like the way she looked, as if she were going into shock.

  “But we have to. He might just be hurt—”

  “No. He’s dead.”

  “You wouldn’t be able to tell if he’s still breathing, not even with the binocu—”

  “Jillian.” He put his arms around her and pulled her close against his muddy body, stroking his hand over her wet hair. “He’s dead. I give you my word.” Martim’s skull had broken open like a ripe melon on the rocks below. There was nothing they could do for him, and he didn’t want Jillian to see the body.

  “Then we have to get his body.”

  “We can’t. The ledge wouldn’t hold up even if we had the equipment we’d need. It would take a team of experts to get him up.”

  She was silent for a minute, but he felt the fine trembling of her body and held her closer. “We’ll come back for his body?” she finally asked.

  In this case, he had to tell her the truth. “There won’t be anything left to come back for.” The jungle would have destroyed all traces of Martim’s body by the time they could get back.

  “I see.” She squared her shoulders and pushed away from him. She did see. If she hadn’t been so shocked and upset, she would never have asked such a foolish question. There was nothing they could do for Martim. All they could do for themselves was to continue on the expedition.

  12

  It was a subdued group that moved on. Ben kept even closer watch on Jillian than usual, worried by the tension on her face. It wasn’t just Martim’s death that had upset her, though that had been bad enough; there was something more, something that went deeper.

  He was also beginning to worry that they wouldn’t be able to work their way off this damn ledge before dark, forcing them to sleep there. There wouldn’t be any room for tents, so they would be exposed to the swarms of mosquitoes that had begun plaguing them as soon as they left the river, as well as any other menace.

  Ben called a break and sent Pepe on ahead to scout, wary of their situation. He crouched down and stared at the surrounding mountains looming over them. He felt as if he were in a hole, with only a circle of sky directly overhead. The situation wasn’t that bad, but it was the way he felt. They couldn’t get off the ledge soon enough to suit him.

  Jillian was also staring silently at the mountains. Ben went over to her, taking care not to come too close to the unstable e