A/N: Finally, the sixth part is ready! Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter . . . I'm so grateful for your feedback!

Disclaimer: If only.

CHAPTER SIX

Abigail

I felt like I was in the way, with the flurry of activity that had sprung up at the entrance to the cave.

At least five cops and a handful of park rangers and construction workers had responded to the police radio call. Cliff—the white-haired officer who had driven me up—came over to where I was standing, moving out of the path of a mini excavator as it was driven up to the pile of rubble blocking the cave.

"Try not to worry too much, hon," he said kindly, putting a hand on my shoulder. "These guys know what they're doing."

I nodded stiffly, not looking away from the cave entrance.

"That was probably a waste of breath, huh?" he asked ruefully. "Of course you're going to worry. You look like you've been in this position before."

I sighed, my shoulders slumping. "Too many times."

Cliff raised a white eyebrow. "Is your Mr. Gates a spelunker or something?"

I almost smiled. "Spelunker, diver, historian, anthropologist, chemist, trouble magnet, you name it," I replied.

When Cliff only looked even more confused, I clarified, "He's a treasure hunter." My voice caught a little, as my mind automatically provided Ben's response to that. Treasure protector, Abigail.

"What about your friend?"

I took a shaky breath. "Riley's a techie. He knows everything you'd want to know—or wouldn't want to know—about computers." And Star Wars, but I didn't say that. It was probably implied.

"What were you three doing up here? Not much treasure in these mountains, unless you're digging for copper."

I nodded. "We were looking for pictograms left by pre-Columbian peoples. This seemed like a remote enough area."

Cliff laughed. "Hon, you could put that on Ajo's travel brochure. Nothing but desert and rock out here. Kinda beautiful, though, if you know what to look for."

I nodded. It was beautiful, in a way. I could see for miles, and the sky was impossibly vast with no trees to obscure it. The rock was a swirl of rust red and dusty brown.

"Thanks for trying to distract me," I finally said.

Cliff looked slightly disappointed. "I should have known you'd catch on quick."

"Hey, Cliff!" someone called.

"'Scuse me for a sec, Mrs. Gates," he said, walking briskly over to one of the police officers. They had a short, tense conversation, and when Cliff returned, his face was grim.

My chest tightened, and for a moment I forgot to breathe. "What is it?" I asked, my voice thin and breathy.

Cliff sighed. "There's been a bit of a setback. Looks like there's been some flooding."

My panic escalated. "Flooding? You mean, inside the cave?"

"Yeah, hon."

"No," I whispered.

Cliff sounded extremely concerned at my response, grabbing my arm as if to steady me. "Hey, don't give up yet, all right?"

He had no way of knowing that I was thinking of another cave, another torrent of water, another moment of blind panic. Ben, drowning, dying to save my life . . . Riley, fighting me, trying to swim back to save him . . . water closing over our heads . . .

I swallowed hard. "You have to get them out. Now!"

NTNTNTNTNTNTNTNTNTNTNTNT

Ben

"Riley?" I asked quietly.

"Hmm?"

"Just making sure you're still awake."

There was a long pause, and then: "Ben?"

"Hmm?"

"Just m-making sure you're still aware of how annoying th-that is."

I smiled a little. "You know what this situation reminds me of?"

Riley groaned. "Not another history lesson," he said, his voice grating.

"Actually, it was a Lord of the Rings reference," I told him, knowing what kind of reaction that would garner.

Sure enough . . .

"Seriously?" Riley said, sounding shocked. "That's not even a n-nerd thing, Ben! That's a geek thing!" I heard him shift a little, and the gasp of pain that accompanied the movement. "Ow," he said breathlessly, but before I could ask him if he was all right, he said, "What reference?"

"That cave . . . the one in the mine."

"Moria," Riley supplied helpfully. "Did you read the books, or see the movies? Wait, why did I even ask that? Of course you r-read the books."

I grinned. "Yeah. Did you know that Tolkien wrote them as a response to World War II? The series wasn't meant to be an allegory, but there is a lot of symbolism in the text—the 'shadow in the East' being the most prominent, as a reference to Nazi Germany—"

"Ben," Riley interrupted. "You are not going to ruin LOTR for me, got it? I don't want to kn-know about the history behind the story. I just want to play the RPGs and imitate Gollum in front of Abby, okay?"

"Okay," I said, pleased to have distracted Riley for a while. The tremor had even left his voice, for the most part.

"I should've known you'd turn anything even remotely awesome into a lecture. Remember those Bugs Bunny cartoons?"

I laughed. "You mean the ones plastered with American propaganda?"

"Yeah. Remind me when w-we get back that I'm never watching TV with you again."

I laughed, and a more comfortable silence stretched between us. Then Riley moved again, and there was another stifled cry of pain. My anxiety spiked.

"Stop trying to move," I warned him. "I'm worried about that concussion."

There was a moment of quiet, where all I could hear was Riley's ragged breathing, and then he panted, "Something's . . . digging into my back, Ben. It hurts."

I was in motion instantly, touching his shoulder. "If you sit up, I might be able to move it."

Riley made a negative sound. "Think it's . . . part of the w-wall."

"Then we'll move you."

Another negative sound. "Hurt."

"I know it'll hurt, but you can't keep moving around like you've been doing. The paramedics will have my head." I gently grabbed both of Riley's shoulders. "Sit up a little," I told him.

Riley complied, and I helped him drag himself sideways, settling him against the wall a little further down. For a moment, we both sat silently, panting, and then Riley whispered, "Thanks. What . . . w-was that thing, anyway?"

I felt along the wall until my hands found something smooth protruding from the irregular stone wall. Intrigued, I felt its contours, and then moved back, surprised. "Riley . . . I think it's a carving."

"Of what?"

"I don't know. It feels almost like . . . a face."

Riley grabbed my arm. "Ben, I just thought . . . of something. My iPod."

I suspected he'd never stopped thinking of his iPod, so this must be important. "What do you mean?"

"The backlight. F-find my iPod. It might still . . . work."

"Good idea." I moved around him and dug through his pack, extricating his Nano from a soggy blanket. I fumbled around with it until I found the hold button, and then was nearly blinded by the square of white light as Riley's iPod turned on. "Nice, kid," I said, grinning, and then I saw what was embedded in the wall and covering it, besides. I felt my eyes widen, and my breath caught.

"What?" Riley asked, seeing my expression.

"I think my mom's going to be making you about a thousand chocolate chip cookies, Riley," I said.

Riley moved himself painfully away from the wall, and his mouth fell open. After a moment, he said, "I th-think I'll just take my ten percent."

A/N: Well, that hopefully got the story moving along a little better. So . . . good? Bad? Please tell me what you think!