had been smoothed over in the center of the floor showed where other stalagmites had been removed to make room, presumably, for people who had spent the night in the cave.
Boris looked around madly. “I don’t understand. I have been in this cave several times while looking for clues. I never found anything before.”
“Were you looking for a camel before?”
“No.” Boris sounded exasperated. “There is no camel in this room. Not a living one and not a dead one either. Don’t you think I would have noticed a camel?”
“Perhaps a pictograph.” Lourds moved off and began shining his light over the walls. The rough surfaces were clear except for phosphorescent chalk marks on the floor that declared the area as CAVE ROOM #16. The chemicals would easily wash off later, but for the moment, it helped with cataloging everything.
Lourds’s beam froze on two stalagmites against one wall. “Boris, when you think of a camel, what do you imagine?”
“An ugly, ungainly-looking beast with a savage temperament and a stench that absolutely reeks. What do you imagine?”
“Aside from those things, what do you think of when you visualize a camel?”
Something in Lourds’s voice drew his friend around. “Humps, I suppose. Why?”
Lourds waggled his flashlight beam over the two stalagmites he’d spotted. “One hump or two per camel?”
“The stalagmites?”
“Yes.”
“No way.”
“The writer did mention ‘between the camel,’ so maybe we’re not looking for a whole camel.”
Boris flicked his light around the room, but Lourds already knew there wouldn’t be another set of stalagmites that looked the same. These two were rounded on the top, as if the ends had been artificially knocked off and sanded.
As if hardly daring to believe what he might find, Boris closed in on the stalagmites. The light caressed the dark gray-brown color of the stone. Boris halted at the pair and stared at them. “These have to be the camel’s humps the message was referring to.”
“I think so as well.” Lourds stood beside Boris and looked around some more.
“What are we supposed to find?”
“Perhaps whatever was here has already been taken. It has been hundreds of years.”
“No.” Boris stubbornly shook his head. “Whatever the author of that carving had hidden, it wouldn’t be hidden in plain sight. There has to be a trick.” He knelt and began feeling around on the humps.
Lourds knelt beside his friend. “The message said between the humps.”
“Well, there’s the floor.” Boris slammed his fist into the floor a few times experimentally. “But that appears to be solid enough.” He switched his attention to the wall and banged the butt of his flashlight against the stone surface in a few areas.
Some of the flashlight’s thumps sounded hollow.
“Let me see your canteen, please.”
Unslinging the canteen from his shoulder, Lourds passed it over.
Taking his time, Boris poured water along the wall at shoulder height, then watched it run down the stone. As the water ran along the surface, it unveiled a horizontal groove that hadn’t been visible to the naked eye. Two other lines ran vertically on either side of the horizontal line.
“Look.” Boris could scarcely speak.
“I see it.” Lourds’s pulse beat at his temples, and he couldn’t help smiling. This was what he lived for.
Boris stuck out his hand. “Could I borrow your knife?”
Gently inserting the blade into the horizontal gap, Boris pried at the crack, slowly opening it. A whole section of the wall popped out, leaving an opening three feet across and three feet tall.
For a moment, Boris froze. “Me first?”
“It’s your discovery.” Lourds gestured the man forward. “I’ll gladly follow you into the promised land.”
Lourds gestured with the flashlight. “Are you going to go? Or do you want me to take the lead?”
“I’m going. I’m going.” Diligently, Boris surveyed the tunnel again. “Why couldn’t they have made this big enough for a grown man?”
“Because it’s supposed to be hidden.”
Footsteps scraped the stone floor behind Lourds. He turned swiftly and shined his flashlight toward the center of the cave.
Six men dressed in dark desert clothing that looked black in the shadows stood behind them. The men looked hard and worn. They carried packs over their shoulders and rifles in their hands. Three of them carried small oil lanterns, and Lourds realized that he hadn’t seen their light because he’d been blinded by his own.
“You see, Ghairat, I told you I heard someone inside the caves.”
One of the men dropped his pack, and all the other men did too. “Get your hands up.” He gestured with the AK-47 he held. “Get your hands up or