She suddenly realized that things had changed since yesterday afternoon.  Until then, Dan had been in charge.  Sure, this trip had been her idea, but Dan had made all the flight arrangements, decided where to stay, what car to rent, while she’d done all the research.  But here, in this chamber, in the presence of the Virgin, she was in charge.

“All right,” she said.  “Lift.”

And as she lifted, a knifepoint of doubt pierced Carrie for an instant: So light!  Almost as if she were hollow.  And so stiff.

She brushed the misgivings away.  The Virgin was small, and God had preserved her flesh.  That was why she was so light and stiff.

Carefully they backed up, cradling the Virgin in their arms, then knelt and gently placed her on the blankets.

“Stiff as a board,” Dan said.  “You know, Carrie, I really think—”

Carrie knew what he was going to say and she didn’t want to hear it.

“Please, Dan.  Let’s just wrap her up and move her out as we agreed.”

He stared at her a moment, then shrugged.  “Okay.”

Dan seemed to have had a change of heart overnight.  Last night he’d been dead set against her plan to bring the Virgin back to New York, yet this morning he seemed all for it.  But not because he’d suddenly become a believer in the authenticity of their discovery.  He was still locked into his Doubting Thomas role.

The Virgin’s unnatural lightness and rigidity, plus Dan’s continuing doubts, only fanned her desire to move the Virgin to a safer hiding place.  Even if she fell into the hands of people with the best intentions, they’d want to examine her, test her to verify her authenticity.  They’d scan her, take samples of her hair, skin scrapings, biopsy her, maybe even—God forbid—autopsy her.

No way, Carrie thought as she folded the blankets over the Virgin, wrapping her rigid form in multiple flannel layers.  No way.

Dan helped her tie the blankets in place with the heavy twine they’d bought in En Gedi.  They tied her around the shoulders, waist, thighs, and knees.  With Carrie leading the way, slipping through the little tunnel first and guiding their precious bundle after her, they moved the Virgin into the front chamber, then through the opening at the top of the cave mouth onto the rock pile.

Squinting in the brightness of the mid-morning sun, they carried her to the far edge of the mini-plateau atop the tav.

“I didn’t realize she was this light,” Dan said, “and that gives me an idea on how we can increase our safety factor here.”

“Who’s safety?”

“Our prize’s.”

Carrie couldn’t get over the change in Dan’s attitude.

“I’m all ears.”

‡

Dan’s voice echoed down from atop the tav rock.

“Ready?”

Carrie shielded her eyes with her hand and looked up.  Dan was a silhouette against the bright blue of the sky, standing on the tav’s overhang directly above, waving to her.  She answered with a broad wave of her own.

“Go ahead!”

As Carrie saw the snugly tied-and-wrapped bundle slip over the edge of the lip and start its slow descent toward her, she became unaccountably afraid.  Everything was set—she’d moved the Explorer under the lip just as Dan had suggested, and here she was, ready to guide the Virgin into the vehicle when she was lowered to within reach—but she could not escape the felling that something was about to go wrong.

She should have stayed with Dan.  Two sets of hands up there were better than one.  He’d tied the heavier rope to the cords around the Virgin while she’d made her way to the bottom.  What if he hadn’t tied the knots securely enough?  What if the rope slipped out of his hands as he was lowering her?

What if he dropped her on purpose, hoping she’d smash into a thousand pieces to prove that he’d been right all along?

Carrie reigned in her stampeding thoughts.  How could she even think such a thing?  She was sure it hadn’t crossed Dan’s mind.

Then why had it crossed hers?

Maybe she was losing perspective.  It was the heat, the distance from home, the isolation of the desert...it was the epiphany of standing before the Mother of God and then cradling her remains in her arms.

So much had happened in the past 24 hours and the cumulative effect was...overwhelming.

She shook herself and concentrated on the blue of the descending bundle, twisting and swaying on its slowly lengthening tether.  Dan was out of sight beyond the lip.  She lifted her arms, waiting.  Soon it was just above her, and then she had a grip on two of the binding cords.  As it continued its descent she swung it around and guided it feet first toward the open rear door of the Explorer.

And then it was done.  The Virgin was off the tav and safely at rest in the back of their car.

Dan must have noticed the sudden slack.  His voice drifted down from overhead.

“Everything okay down there?”

She waved without looking up.  Her eyes were fixed on the blanket-wrapped bundle lying before her.  She still didn’t know what she’d do with the Virgin once she got her to New York; she simply knew she had to keep her near.

She spoke softly.  “Perfect.”

“Heads up!” Dan called from above.

She glanced up and saw the remaining length of the rope stretched out in the air, coiling like a collapsing spring as it fell to earth.

“I’m on my way,” he said.

Fifteen minutes later he arrived, lugging the lamp and the flashlights.  He quickly loaded them into the back of the Explorer.

Carrie said, “What about the rope?”

“We’ll leave it.  Can’t fly it back to the States anyway.”

“How about that other cave?  Didn’t you say you wanted to take a look in it before we leave?”

He stared across the canyon a moment, then shook his head.

“Maybe some other time.”

“Other time?  When will there be another time?’

“Probably never.  But I think I’ve had enough of this place for now.  I’d like to be out of here.”

Carrie nodded.  She had the same feeling.  She didn’t know why, but she had an urge to put this place behind them as quickly as possible.

‡

As Kesev cruised down Route 90 he saw a black, truck-like vehicle pull onto the highway about half a mile ahead and accelerate toward him in the northbound lane.  No roads around here, at least nothing paved.  Whoever was driving must have been roaming the hills and desert.  Nothing unusual about that.  Off-road exploring was popular with tourists these days, which was why the rental companies in the Central and South districts did such a brisk business in four-wheel drive vehicles.  But what bothered Kesev was where the truck had come onto the highway.

Right where Kesev always turned off.

He gave it a good going over as it passed: black Ford Explorer, dust caked, man driving, woman in the rear seat, Eldan Rent-A-Car sticker on the back bumper.  He made a mental note of the license plate.

When he made his usual turn off and saw the still settling dust trailing west toward the hills, he stopped his Jeep and jotted the license plate number in the notepad he always carried.

Just in case.

They he gunned the Jeep toward the uplands.

He had a bad feeling about this.

That bad feeling worsened as he spotted patches of rutted earth and tire tracks here and there along the path toward the Resting Place.  Never, in all the times he’d been back and forth, had he encountered a single tire track this far into the Wilderness.  Not even his own from previous trips.  Sharav, the incessant desert wind, saw to that, scouring the land clean of all traces of human passage, usually overnight.

Which meant these were fresh tracks.  But who’d made them?  The couple in that Explorer?  Or somebody else—somebody who even now might be desecrating the Resting Place.

Despite the Jeep’s efficient air-conditioning, Kesev began to sweat.  He upped his speed past the safety limit into the reckless zone.  He didn’t care.  Something was wrong here.