Ben Dover's Arc

Chapter 21 of 150

By late afternoon the detour had cost them hours. The ridge road curved wide around the gap Crystal had warned them off, adding miles for every step saved. Ben carried the taped crate against his ribs. The broken guard inside was quiet now, holding what shape it had left. Anita walked ahead. Justin walked behind. No one spoke about Amanda, alone at the abandoned stone ruin with the felt-lined chest, waiting past the day they had promised. "She'll hold," Justin said finally. "She was told to stay hidden." "She was told for one night," Ben said. "It's been two." Anita stopped at a rise and pointed. Below them the ridge dropped into the gap Crystal had named. It was narrower than Ben expected. Six feet, maybe seven. A running jump for a man with nothing in his arms. Ben had a taped crate and three carved boxes strapped to his back. "We go around," Anita said. "That's what she told us." "Around is another day," Ben said. "Amanda doesn't have another day." Something moved in the brush at the gap's edge. A brown shape landed on the far lip in one clean bound, then stopped and looked back at them. A lean animal, ears up, tail long. It crouched and sprang again, back across the gap, and landed at Ben's feet. It did not run off. "It jumped that," Justin said. "Twice." The animal nosed the taped crate. Then it nosed a small wooden pot at its own feet Ben had not seen before. The pot was round, plain, with the word JUMP burned into a plate on its side. Ben crouched. The pot was light. Empty. "Someone left it," Anita said. Ben thought of Crystal on the ridge. Tape on her leg. A pot at a gap. He did not think it was chance. He unstrapped the three carved boxes and set them in the pot. They fit. He closed the lid. He held the pot in one hand, the taped crate in the other. Lighter. Balanced. "You can't jump that carrying both," Anita said. "I can if you throw the pot after." Justin went first. He backed up, ran, and cleared the gap with a foot to spare. Anita followed. Ben handed the pot across, then the crate. Both made it. Then he ran and jumped. He landed hard on his knees but he landed. They were on the right side now. Lost Hollow lay two hours south, not a full day. They moved fast through the dusk and reached the stone ruin before full dark. Ben pushed through the low door. The alcove was empty. The felt-lined chest was gone. Amanda was gone. On the wall above the alcove someone had scratched a fresh mark in the stone: a single curved line, wet at the edges. Ben set the pot down. His hands would not stop shaking.