all right?’ Eddie asked, getting positive responses. He looked back at Osterhagen. ‘You were saying, Doc?’
Osterhagen recovered his composure. ‘I was about to say that once we get past the next village, which is the last settlement for over forty kilometres, we should not have any problems.’
‘Of course, Leonard,’ said Nina teasingly.
There was a walkie-talkie on the dashboard shelf, letting the three vehicles communicate; it squawked. ‘Hey, careful how you drive!’ Zender demanded. ‘That could have damaged my car.’
‘Damage his face,’ Eddie muttered, picking up the radio. ‘Here’s a tip – you might want to stay further back and not drive so fast.’
‘Juanita knows how to drive,’ came the peevish reply. ‘Now come on, get going!’
‘Think anyone’d mind if he went over the edge?’ Eddie asked as the bus finally squeezed past. Nobody raised any objections. The Jeep set off, the Englishman pulling out after it. With a lurch, Zender’s vehicle followed.
About five minutes later a village came into view, ramshackle buildings clumped haphazardly on each side of the road. The Jeep’s driver sounded his horn to encourage a skinny goat to clear out of their path, the blare attracting curious looks from the locals. Once the animal had ambled aside the Jeep moved off again, and Eddie had started to follow when Osterhagen suddenly jumped in his seat. ‘Eddie, stop the car!’ he cried, pointing. ‘Over there, look!’
An elongated, moss-covered rock poked out of the ground like a giant raised finger. ‘What is it?’ Nina asked.
The German was out of the Nissan before Eddie had brought it to a complete stop. ‘It’s a huaca! On the map, one of the last markings before the Incas reached El Dorado was of a particular type of huaca. And this,’ he pointed excitedly at the stone, ‘is almost identical to one on the Inca Trail – and the marking is the same!’
Nina joined him as the third 4×4 pulled up. ‘So you think we’re nearly there?’
‘Yes, absolutely!’ He gazed at the valley ahead. ‘Only a matter of kilometres. I am certain!’
Zender’s window whirred down. ‘Why have we stopped?’
‘Navigation check,’ said Nina. ‘Dr Osterhagen thinks we’re getting close.’
The official’s impatient expression was replaced by approval. ‘Ah! Good, good. Well, lead us there, doctor!’
It was now Eddie’s turn to show impatience. ‘Are we done?’
‘Yeah, we’re done,’ Nina said. She and Osterhagen re-entered the Patrol, and it continued on its way, Zender’s 4×4 behind it.
A scruffy man, the smouldering stub of a cigarette between his lips, emerged from a house to watch the convoy pass. He paid special attention to the Nissan – and the red-haired woman in the passenger seat. Once the convoy had left the little settlement, he stubbed out the cigarette, then took out a cellphone.
Beyond the village, the road steepened – and the ground it traversed narrowed enormously. The ravine carved by the river was now over a hundred feet deep, the drop growing steadily higher as they drove along. The route ahead was not so much running through the mountains as clinging to them by its fingernails.
The convoy slowed as it approached a bend. Poking up from the cliff’s edge were several crude wooden crosses. ‘Ah . . . what are those?’ Macy asked nervously.
‘Where people have gone over the edge,’ Eddie said, navigating the turn. ‘Narrow roads, bad drivers and old cars with knackered brakes aren’t a good mix.’
‘Yeah, I wish I hadn’t asked,’ she said, shuffling across the seat away from the edge. ‘Couldn’t we have gone by helicopter?’
‘I don’t think the Peruvians’ budget would have stretched to that,’ said Nina.
‘I would have paid! I’ve got money!’
The Patrol’s other occupants laughed as it rounded the bend, revealing more of the twisting route. As Eddie had promised, clouds were starting to obscure the valley below, in places the ever-deepening ravine vanishing into a blank grey haze. Somehow, that made the prospect of going over the edge even more frightening: no way of knowing how long it would take to reach the fall’s inevitable conclusion.
Other features were still clearly visible, though. ‘Is that the waterfall?’ Kit asked, pointing.
Ahead, a great scar ran down the hillside, vegetation and even soil scoured away to reveal the bare rock beneath. It started at the top of a rise a few hundred feet above the road, and descended into the clouds below. A thin waterfall flowed down the centre of the exposed swathe, splashing on to the road. Nina checked her map and satellite photos, puzzled. ‘No, this isn’t marked.’