Death is Forever

your hip.”
    Dutifully Erin unscrewed the top of the canteen and drank. The water was stale and hotter than her mouth. She sighed and thought of glaciers calving into an iceblue sea.
    “Are you going to take more pictures?” he asked.
    “Am I breathing?”
    He glanced sideways at her and smiled slightly. “Dumb question, huh?”
    The contrast between his amused smile and his powerful, nearly naked body made her breath stop. A shaft of longing went through her, making her painfully aware of her own body. Memories poured through her, hotter and more vivid than the sun, images of a sensual time before she had seen the perfect Chen Lai in Cole’s embrace.
    “Just keep going upstream,” he said. “That way you won’t get lost. Okay?”
    Erin nodded. “Where are you going to be?”
    “Right behind you, dry-panning as I go.”
    The quality of his voice made her heartbeat pick up. “Did you really find something?”
    “There must be some old streambed or beach deposits up there,” he said, hooking his thumb toward the two low hills that flanked either side of the dry stream course. “I’m getting stuff that’s much more rounded and of a different type of rock than the rest of the recent streambed deposits. The old stuff could have been washed from layers of river or beach conglomerate.”
    “Diamonds?” she asked eagerly.
    “Nope. But that ridge is limestone, so watch for openings where the runoff streams cut into the underlying rock. There could be caves.”
    “Really?”
    “Wherever there’s limestone and water, there’s a chance of caves,” he said. “Not a certainty. Just a chance. Most caves are discovered when a stream cuts down through the rock like a knife through Swiss cheese, showing all the little interior holes.”
    Her eyes lit up. She started to speak but ended by waving flies away impatiently.
    “Time for more goo,” he said, reaching into his big rucksack. “Those flies sure love you, honey.”
    Grimacing, she squeezed out a puddle of white, medicinal-scented lotion and began applying it. She worked swiftly, from the forehead down, covering every bit of skin that was exposed and a lot that wasn’t.
    “Watch for snakes,” Cole said, picking up the gold pan again. “They’ll be in the shadows and crevices. If you see any birds or bats, let me know. Could mean water nearby.”
    “Do we need it?” she asked.
    “With what we’ve got in the Rover, we’re all right for a few days, but if we can find a source of water that isn’t on the maps, we can make Street’s job harder.”
    She capped the squeeze bottle and handed it back to Cole. “Maybe Street is just what he’s supposed to be, a man inspecting the Dog Mines for the Australian government.”
    “Maybe. Want to bet your life on it?”
    When she started to answer, an abrupt gesture of Cole’s hand silenced her. He stood motionless, head cocked to one side in the attitude of a man listening intently.
    “What—” she began.
    Another sharp gesture cut her off. Silently he pointed toward the east. She shifted her position and listened intently. After a moment she heard the far-off drone of a helicopter engine.
    Cole touched her arm and pointed again. She squinted into the shimmering sky. Finally she saw a dark dot skimming above the land. The helicopter was perhaps a thousand feet high and miles away. If he continued in the same direction he was going, he would miss them by a wide margin.
    “Somebody looking for Dog Four?” she asked.
    “If he is, he just flew over it.”
    Abruptly the helicopter’s direction changed.
    Cole cursed, grabbed Erin’s arm, and sprinted toward a clump of gums that were growing along the outer curve of the streambed.
    “Get down and stay there,” he said.
    She didn’t have any choice about obeying. He dragged her to the ground and pinned her with a forearm across her waist. Just as she opened her mouth to demand an explanation, she heard the sound of the helicopter. It was close enough to distinguish the rhythm of the rotors whipping through the air. After a minute the sound began to fade.
    “No,” he said when she would have gotten up. “Not until we haven’t heard him for five minutes.”
    She lay rigid, barely feeling the textures of grit and stone and tree root beneath her, aware only of the claustrophobic stillness of the day and the coiled tension of the man stretched out beside her. The sound of a shell being jacked into the shotgun’s firing chamber was like thunder to