Page 128 of False Flag

She walked along the edge, stumbling as the moss covering gave way to reveal pockets between loose cobbles and rotting branches.

Then she saw it. The opening. Low on the ground, just like the blind in Virginia.

She always kept a flashlight in her hiking pack. It was one of the ten essentials. She pulled it out and shone it in the gap. It was dark. Very dark considering light should penetrate the tangle of branches.

Definitely something artificial was at play. There was a short tunnel, then it looked like it opened up at the end. A room of some kind? She might even be able to stand.

This was the point in the horror movie when she’d be yelling at the young, scantily clad woman on the screen to go back, get reinforcements…or a weapon.

But Staci had a few years on horror movie victims, and she wasn’t scantily clad. Plus, this was the kind of thing archaeologists dreamed of. Finding a hidden chamber—be it cave or cabin—was the stuff of both childhood and professional fantasies.

She studied the trees carefully. There were no cameras that faced the opening. Might as well go for it.

She removed her backpack and pushed it in front of her as she slithered through the tunnel that was a little more than a meter long. The pack got caught on something—a branch?—just as her head cleared the opening. She pushed at it to move it out of her way, but it wouldn’t budge. She wriggled forward.

It was too dark for her to see the obstruction, and she reached for the flashlight.

Before she could free it, a gloved hand slammed down on her mouth.

Chapter Forty-Five

Sheer terror shot through her. She was trapped in the tunnel. Blocked in by her backpack. She’d dropped the flashlight, and only pinpricks of light penetrated the thick foliage above her.

A man spoke in a soft whisper. “Are you alone?”

Only a fool would say yes. She twisted, trying to bite the hand, but she couldn’t move in the tight space, and the glove protected whoever had her trapped.

The hand on her mouth tightened. “Are you alone?”

The voice was slightly louder, but she still didn’t recognize it. There were only a few options for who it could be. If it was Beau, she really was the too-stupid-to-live floozy in a horror movie.

She twisted again to look up just as a light went on and blinded her.

“Staci?” A soft curse, and the hand at her mouth fell away. She gathered her breath to scream, and it slammed over her jaw again. “Staci. It’s me. Jake. Are you alone?”

Jake?

Jake.

She nodded vigorously. His hand fell away again, and the blinding light snapped off.

“Sorry. I didn’t know it was you⁠—”

She launched herself into the enclosed space, the branches that formed the tunnel arch shaking as they scraped along her back.

“Or if others were with you. I⁠—”

She made it to her feet and shoved at his brawny form. He didn’t budge. Terror, anger, and relief all vied for supremacy. It was dark again. He was nothing more than a hulking shadow in front of her. She couldn’t form words, so she pummeled his chest.

Finally, words broke free as her tears spilled. “You left me. Without a fucking word. You. Left. Me. After I was there for you. After I started to think…” Her voice trailed off. She lost the ability to speak again. Didn’t want to admit her thoughts.

He flicked the light on again, no doubt so he could see her tears. Bastard.

“You didn’t…didn’t get the rose? I didn’t have time to leave a note—not one that was coded anyway. Couldn’t take a chance knowing someone else might find it.”

The rose.

She closed her eyes and saw Beau on the path, sniffing a red, red rose. The poem.