The Solomon Curse

“We’ve got company.”

She sat up, eyes wide. “And?”

“And either they want to race or they want to pass.”

Remi glanced in the passenger-side mirror as they bounced along. “Well, slow down so they can get by. We’re in no hurry.”

Sam rolled his window down and motioned for the truck to pass as he slowed down. They both heard the roar of the vehicle’s big engine before they felt the jarring blow as the truck’s front bumper struck the rear quarter panel. Sam floored the gas and downshifted, fighting to stay on the narrow road, the tires slipping and sliding before regaining their grip.

“Hang on,” he yelled as he eyed the rearview mirror, cursing silently at the coating of mud that obscured all but a hazy outline of the truck. He returned his attention to the road in front of him and glanced at the speedometer, trying to gauge how much more speed he could squeeze out of the Xterra without flipping it on one of the hairpin curves.

The truck accelerated, keeping pace, and as it tried to pull alongside, Sam twisted the SUV’s steering wheel, blocking the move. They approached a winding stretch of road and he gu

Remi craned her neck to better see their pursuers, but her side mirror, like the rear window, was coated in mud from the earlier slog down the river road. Sam swerved again as they hit a straightaway, trying to keep the truck behind him as its larger engine kicked in and it pulled closer.

Sam tapped the brakes and downshifted as he neared a tight turn, and then things happened fast. The big pickup truck rammed the rear bumper of the Nissan hard enough to snap their necks back against the headrests, and the Xterra fishtailed out of control as Sam battled with the steering wheel. Remi wedged her feet up against the dashboard as the truck rammed them again, and then the Nissan was flipping, tumbling down the steep gorge toward the river far below.

CHAPTER 13

Steam hissed from beneath the ruined hood as Sam fought to free himself from the seat belt. The SUV had come to rest on its side. River water rushed around it and through the shattered windows. Remi sputtered as she groped for the seat belt’s release, but Sam got to it first and she fell against him as the water level rose, soaking them both.

“You okay?” he asked as he pushed deflated air bags aside.

She nodded. “A few bumps and bruises.”

Sam tested his limbs and then gazed around the submerged cabin. “How do you want to do this?”

“Out my window.”

“Okay.”

Remi hoisted herself toward her door and then up through the gap where her passenger window had been as the cabin filled. Sam followed her to where she was clinging to the side of the Nissan, and then a fountain of spray exploded from the river’s surface, followed almost instantly by the sharp crack of a gun from the road above. They released their hold on the SUV and slid into the river as another shot punched a hole in its roof, and then they were carried downstream in the brown current, the river only six feet deep but swollen from the rains.

Sam yelled at Remi, whose head bobbed above the surface. “First bend, climb out at the far shore and take cover.”

“Got it.”

He could barely hear her above the rush of the water.

Their speed increased as they approached a narrower section that churned with white froth. Rapids. Rocks beneath the surface, most likely sharp. He began pulling for the shore as the water deepened and found that he could beat the current. Remi followed his lead, and Sam helped Remi onto the bank near the rapids, gasping for breath.

Sam listened for more shots as he peered up at where the road followed the ridge, now several hundred yards away. If the shooter had a pistol, they were so far out of range they had no worries. If a rifle with a scope, they were still in trouble.

“I thought there were no guns on the island,” Remi whispered.

“Apparently, gun laws only work with law-abiding citizens. We can assume whoever was shooting at us doesn’t fit that description.”

They both saw motion at the bend in the river and ducked low. Two islanders were making their way along the bank, one clutching a revolver. They were still a good hundred yards away and apparently hadn’t spotted Sam and Remi.

Sam whispered to her, “Slide back into the brush. As long as they’re on that side, they’ll never spot us.”

Soon they were hidden by the dense vegetation. They watched as the men followed the river south. Both Sam and Remi held still as their pursuers eyed the foliage on both sides of the river and then faltered as they neared the rapids. The pair was close enough that their voices carried over the sound of the rushing water. The one with the pistol gestured with it downriver as though emphasizing his point, and then they turned and made their way back to the bend. Remi exhaled softly when they disappeared from view, but neither she nor Sam dared move in case the men had gone in search of reinforcements.

They waited ten minutes, ears straining for any sound of pursuit, but heard and saw nothing.

“Looks like they’re gone,” Remi whispered.

“Right. But the question is who ‘they’ are.”

“Maybe someone associated with the mine? Or a group of the militia Manchester was warning us about?”

“Could be. But the way he described their territory, they were in the central part of the island, by the caves.”

She stared up the river and shook her head. “I don’t get it. Why would anyone want to run us off the road and shoot at us? Even if they were militia?”

“That’s a good question.”

“All we’ve done is talk to a couple of old men about some legendary ruins.”

“Don’t forget the giants.” Sam took a final look at where the men had disappeared beyond the bend and then stood. “Looks like it’s just you and me, kid.” He inspected his wet clothes. “The only good part about this weather is that we won’t freeze. In fact, once we’re out in the sun, we’ll be dry in a few minutes.”

“That’s great. But the main road’s at least, what, six or seven miles away?”

“Probably. Assuming it’s safe to walk to it. Didn’t someone say there were crocodiles along most of the rivers?”

“Not exactly positive thinking, Fargo.”

“Okay. I’m positive there are crocodiles along most of the rivers.”

Remi smiled in spite of herself. “That’s better. See how easy that was?” She struggled to her feet and felt her neck. Sam eyed her with concern.

“Did you hurt yourself?”

“Probably a touch of whiplash. But God bless whoever invented the air bag and seat belt.”

Sam glanced back up to where the car was wrecked. “I’m glad I took the extra insurance. Think it covers ru

“Probably an exception in the fine print.” She felt the side of her face, which was swelling.

“There are two ways to go—the road or the river. Which would you rather face—a thug with a gun or twenty feet of hungry croc?” Sam asked.

“What’s the middle choice?”

Sam offered a pained smile in response.

Remi eyed the rushing water. “If I were our attackers, I’d have hightailed it out of here once we disappeared. That looks like what they did.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Remi followed Sam’s gaze up the river. “Me too.”

“It’ll probably be shallower after the rapids. We can try crossing there and find the road,” suggested Sam.

“Lead the way. Mind the crocodiles.”

“Thanks. I’d almost forgotten.”

Sam carefully moved along the bank as they worked their way downstream. The roar of the rapids increased, and, as he’d hoped, after a deep pool with eddies swirling along the surface, the river widened and he could see the bottom. Crossing was still tricky. They held hands as they waded up to their waists, Sam feeling along the bottom with his feet as they gingerly made their way to the far shore.