Death is Forever

the black growth of his beard stubble. “Come on, honey. Let’s go find the keyhole.”
    The first flush of excitement had plenty of time to wear off while they searched the base of Bridget’s Hill for an opening that might lead to a cave. There were cracks in the stone where water went and didn’t return. There were crevices where more water went in than came out.
    But there was no opening big enough for a hand, much less a man, to penetrate.
    It started raining again, a slow, steady, warm rain that was rather like being trapped in somebody’s throttled-down shower.
    After two hours Erin took off her floppy cabbage-leaf hat, mopped her face with it, and sat on the steeply sloping, stony earth beneath the thin shade of bloodwood trees. The temperature was well over one hundred degrees. Between rainstorms, the humidity was total.
    “At least you have enough surplus water to sweat,” Cole said.
    “I wasn’t complaining.”
    He smiled and touched her cheek. “I know. You haven’t complained about anything.”
    “Except the goanna.”
    “You said it was better than seal.”
    “So is starvation,” she retorted. “Well, almost.” She sighed again, stretched her arms over her head, and made a startled sound. “A miracle.”
    “What?”
    “The cool breeze.”
    “You’ve finally gone troppo,” he said, wiping sweat from his face. “There isn’t a cool breeze between here and the Snowy River.”
    “Sure there is.” She took his hand and held it over her head. “Right here.”
    The instant Cole felt the cool current of air, a wave of adrenaline slammed through him. He scrambled past Erin, forced his way through a tangle of hard spinifex and scrubby trees, and stopped short. There, all but hidden by vegetation and rubble, was a dark, narrow opening in the limestone.
    “Cole? Is that what I think it is?” Erin stared past him. “It’s so small. How big was Abe?”
    “Smaller than me.”
    “Who isn’t?” she retorted.
    With a supple movement, Cole unslung the shotgun and set it aside. The rucksack thumped to the ground.
    “I’m going inside,” he said. “Stay here.”
    “Not a chance.”
    “Caves are dangerous,” he said flatly.
    “The most interesting things in life usually are.”
    He slanted her a look, then smiled crookedly. “At least let me make sure there aren’t any traps around the entrance, natural or otherwise.”
    “Good old Abe, King of Lies,” she muttered.
    “Something like that. Although there’s no guarantee this is Abe’s cave. Like I said, the entire hill could be riddled with holes.”
    “But this particular opening,” she said, deadpan, “rather resembles a woman’s ‘map of Tasmania.’”
    After a startled instant, Cole gave a crack of laughter, grabbed Erin, and kissed her hard.
    “For luck,” he said, releasing her as suddenly as he’d taken her.
    He soon found that the opening wasn’t as narrow as it seemed, because it was offset slightly from right to left. Between one breath and the next he pushed from tropical sun into seamless darkness.
    A swift movement of his hand ignited one of the matches he’d brought with him. He shielded the fragile flame within the circle of his hand. The first thing the flickering light picked out was a mound of thick, creamy candles. The second was a row of miners’ carbide helmet lamps and fuel.
    The third was a rusted candy tin.

43
Bridget’s Hill
    With hands that trembled, Cole picked up the old tin. Something rattled inside. He stared at the tin while the match burned down to flesh. Swearing at the bite of flame, he reached for another match.
    “Cole?” Erin called from outside. “Are you all right?”
    He let out a long, ragged sigh and remembered to breathe. “I’m fine. Can you drag the rucksack and shotgun as far as the entrance?”
    When she retrieved the shotgun and rucksack, the weight surprised her. Not the shotgun—it always felt heavy to her. It was the rucksack that felt like it was full of lead. The thought of him carrying it through the killing heat while she walked unburdened made her mouth flatten.
    Carrying the shotgun and dragging the rucksack, she scrambled over rock and through brush until she could look inside the slit in the limestone hill. Cole was lighting one candle from the flame of another. He held out a candle to her with hands that had a fine tremor of excitement rippling just beneath his control.
    Erin didn’t notice anything but the passageway itself, a cool darkness that