He jogged about two hundred yards up the road, then stopped to survey the scene. Sometime in the two decades since the Wyoming Highway Department had ceased to exist, the floodwaters of the Salt River had risen high enough to chew away at the base of what had once been U.S. Highway 89. Most of the outside lane had collapsed into the hungry waters. Given enough time, Eric could have planted his explosives in such a way as to drop the rest of the pavement into the river and block any hope of passage. But he didn’t have that time. Even allowing for the fact that the intruders had to move the tree before they could continue, he couldn’t have gained much time on them.

It could have been better, but the river’s work would suffice for his purposes. The vehicles could still squeeze through, but they would have to slow down to a crawl. Eric strode over to a heavy clump of brush clinging to the steep hillside at the edge of where the gaping slash in the pavement began. The crunch of tires and treads suddenly amplified, and he dove behind the bush, pushing into the heavy tangle of branches. Peering out, he saw the first vehicle round the bend and come into sight. The last rays of the sun caught the bright orange metal and turned it into flaming gold. He huddled deeper into the protecting foliage, grateful that his dark brown shirt and pants blended into the deep shadows of the oak brush.

As he stared at the approaching line of vehicles, Eric felt grimly satisfied. There was only one car now instead of two.

Not unexpectedly, the lead vehicle stopped at the edge of the pavement that had been ripped away by the flood waters. Eric heard the door open, then the crunch of footsteps coming toward him. He tensed, raising the muzzle of his rifle slightly.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know.” The steps moved closer. “It looks solid enough.” Again Eric felt a brief flash of satisfaction. Neither voice belonged to the tall, hollow-cheeked man who had shaken hands with Cliff. Cliff was dead, but he hadn’t gone totally unavenged.

“The bank isn’t undercut at all. I think we’ll be okay. Just tell the others to stay as far to the right as they can.”

“Right.” The footsteps moved back quickly. The low hum of the motor increased in intensity, and even before the doors were shut, the car began to creep forward.