Hunt at The Well Of Eternity

Chapter 24

Esparza didn’t have much of a lead, and Gabriel could hear him crashing through the vegetation ahead. Normally, Gabriel was confident he could have overtaken Esparza fairly quickly, but desperation gave the man strength and speed he might not have had otherwise and Gabriel’s wound slowed him down.

Where were the damn snakes and jaguars when you needed them, Gabriel thought. If Esparza ran into one of those predators, it would slow him down, maybe even finish him off.

It seemed that the only predator abroad in the jungle tonight, though, was man.

Cuchatlán fell far behind them. Gabriel’s heart slugged in his chest, and his lungs struggled to draw in enough of the tropical air. Sweat drenched him. But he kept moving, kept following Esparza’s ragged trail.

If Esparza reached the Blade of the Gods and made it across, he might be able to get back to the trucks. He had probably left some men there, and he might try to return with them to Cuchatlán and finish off the survivors. Even if he didn’t do that tonight, he could flee back to Mexico City, put together another expedition, and start this unholy affair all over again. This had to end now.

Gabriel suddenly broke out of the clinging vegetation and found himself on the grassy verge at the edge of the gorge. Esparza was about a fourth of the way across the sagging rope bridge. Gabriel could see him plainly in the moonlight.

He dragged a deep breath into his body and then called, “Esparza!”

Out on the bridge, Esparza stopped and turned. He flung up his pistol and fired as Gabriel ducked aside. The bullet whipped past Gabriel’s head and whined off into the jungle.

“You’ll never make it, Esparza,” Gabriel called.

“Why not?” the man demanded as he pointed the gun at Gabriel again. “Tell me why I will not return in triumph to Cuchatlán some other day?”

“Because earlier,” Gabriel said, “I cut through all but one strand of one of these anchor ropes, remember?”

And with that, Gabriel swept General Fargo’s saber up brought it slashing down, parting the last of the ropes.

Esparza cried out in terror and rage. He fired his gun but the shot went blindly overhead. The anchor rope, meanwhile, slapped through the air with a loud twang and the planks of the bridge clattered violently as they struck against one another. Esparza dropped the gun and grabbed for the guide rope with both hands, but his fingers slipped off it. He grabbed at the planks as they went out from under him. He screamed as splinters dug into his scrabbling hands, but he couldn’t hold on.

Still screaming, Esparza plunged out of sight into the thick darkness that cloaked the gorge. Gabriel listened hard and heard the screams all the way down…and the ripe thud that ended them.

He stood there for a long moment, breathing heavily and resting his free hand on one of the bridge posts.

Then, still carrying General Fargo’s saber, he turned and started back to Cuchatlán.