Black Mountain (24 page)

Matt shrugged. ‘I’m okay. I just expected more support from Chief Logan. Means we’re on our own . . . for now.’

Charles waved a hand in the air. ‘Don’t worry about it – we’ve got everything we need. The cops’d just get in the way.’

Matt gave him a half-smile. Charles
would
say that. Matt reckoned he wanted any discovery to be made by him first – his great-uncle’s blood obviously still flowed strongly through his veins. He leaned back and looked around the wooden ranch-style interior of the restaurant, stopping with a jolt at a nearby table.

‘Hey, you’re not going to believe this,’ he hissed, hunching forward. ‘Eleven o’clock – check it out.’

Charles turned slowly and then snapped back. ‘You
are
shitting me. That’s the guy again.’

‘What is it? What guy?’ Sarah swivelled in her seat.

‘Don’t look,’ Matt said, hunching down further and lifting his menu to obscure his face.

Sarah swung back. ‘What, you mean old Thomas?’

The old man got to his feet and walked towards them. When he reached the table, he didn’t say a word; he just stood there looking down at Matt. Matt kept his eyes on the menu, frowning at it with the concentration of someone studying the Magna Carta in its original Latin. He kept it up for as long as he could, but eventually the force of the man’s gaze dragged Matt’s head up to meet a pair of eyes so intense they would have been more at home on a bald eagle. Matt swallowed audibly.

‘Hi, Thomas, how’re you doin’ today?’ Sarah said and smiled up at him.

The old man nodded in acknowledgment, ‘Miss Sarah,’ but kept his eyes on Matt.

‘Hello there, sir.’ Matt knew his voice sounded feeble.

Up close, the man looked even more antique than he had from a distance, with leathery skin that had been creased a thousand times by sun, sand and dry winds.

Sarah frowned at the strange interaction. ‘Thomas, this is Matt Kearns and Charles Schroder, friends of mine from the city. And this here is Mr Thomas Red Cloud – closest thing we’ve got to a tribal elder in these parts.’ She continued frowning as she looked from Thomas to Matt. ‘Ahh, have you two met before?’

No one spoke.

Thomas reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a small crumpled piece of soft paper. He unfolded it and laid it on the table in front of Matt, then tapped it with one brown, liver-spotted finger. ‘Chiye-tanka.’

Matt looked down. It was the napkin he had drawn on in the diner with Charles, when his friend had first arrived. He nodded and met the old man’s eyes. ‘The Great Ones.’

The old man sat down next to Matt, pushing him along the bench seat, then tapped the napkin again. ‘What do you know about them, Mr Matt Kearns?’

‘What do I know?’ Matt shrugged. ‘I can tell you what
I think
– that there’s something big moving around on the Black Mountain, and we suspect it might be responsible for the recent disappearances. It’s certainly coming closer to town. We also think a lot of people are in danger unless we can convince the authorities to take us, to take
it
, seriously.’

The old man sat like a stone for a few seconds, looking into Matt’s eyes. Eventually, he nodded, and spoke slowly. ‘Yes, it is true; I believe the Great Ones have returned. My people have been the guardians of their prison for an eternity – a duty that was passed to us by our ancestors, the First People. They enjoyed a land of abundance, with animals of great size and number. But they were not alone; the Great Ones lived high in the mountains. At first, mankind and the giants shared the land, but as the First People’s numbers grew, the Great Ones became angry. Without the people even knowing it, a war was declared. Warriors, women and children started to disappear, and the people became angry and fearful. But when the Chief’s daughter was stolen, then the war was joined.’

Thomas lifted Matt’s glass of water to his lips and drank half of it down before continuing with his story. ‘The Chief chose his greatest warrior, Tooantuh, to gather a hundred-strong war party. He also summoned his most powerful sorcerers to force the Great Ones back into the caves and then to seal them away from the light with a wall of stones, each carved with a sacred story and symbols to hold them forever. Many warriors were lost in the battle, and Tooantuh himself never returned. It was a great cost to the tribe, but mankind was saved that day.’

He paused, shut his eyes briefly, then chuckled. ‘It’d make a great comic book, huh?’ He finished Matt’s water.

Matt noticed Thomas wore a small leather bag tied around his neck; it looked soft and slightly oiled, as though it had been rubbed between finger and thumb a thousand times.

Thomas became serious again. ‘Whether the story is believed or not, every four generations the wall must be maintained. I am the last of those who know the symbols, but I was not able to repair the wall when I was supposed to and the Great Ones broke free. And now . . .’ He trailed off.

Matt leaned forward. ‘I knew it – something happened, didn’t it? Something that broke down the wall? Have you seen this Great One? I mean, do you know where it is?’

Thomas waved a hand at Matt as though batting away his questions. ‘The coyote and beaver told me; the eagle spirit screamed it down from heaven; the great-grandfather buzzard came to me in a dream. They said that the earth moved and the wall came down.’

Matt’s mouth fell open. ‘Wow – no way. Is that true?’

Thomas shook his head. ‘Shit no. I read about the earth tremor in the papers like everyone else. But, Mr Kearns, despite the fact that I might not be a full believer in Native American lore, I have still been lighting sacred fires around the town lately. Anything’s worth a try, right?’ He shrugged. ‘Problem is, I don’t really believe in what I’m doing, and perhaps that’s why it’s not working. Hell, I’m not even sure I’m doing it right. There’s not a lot of people left for me to ask.’ He reached out and placed his hands over the top of Matt’s. ‘But I do believe in the Great Ones. At least, now I do.’

Matt nodded. ‘I believe in them too, Thomas. Tell me more about the magic symbols – and how we can help.’

Charles pulled a disbelieving face. ‘Hang on, Matt – spells? He doesn’t even believe in them himself. We aren’t going to convince Chief Logan of anything if we start down the mystical path. We need scientific proof now, not magic fires, symbols and dreams. A freakin’ elephant gun would be of more use to us than all that.’

Thomas looked at Charles and shook his head slowly. ‘You think you see, but you are blind. You think you know all, but you are like a child. Mr Schroder, how do you stop a force of nature? Can you trap the wind; stop the winter blizzard or the summer heat? You are nothing but dust before such things.’ He pinned Charles with his unblinking stare. ‘I said that I had trouble believing, not that it was all make-believe. Sometimes it takes something from ancient times to restore our faith – and not always in a good way.’

Thomas turned to Matt. ‘The answers are written on the
ah-u-tsi
stones.’ He looked back at Charles. ‘That means “prison stones”, asshole.’

Charles stared at Thomas Red Cloud, his eyes wide. ‘Oookay.’ He looked at Sarah and shrugged. ‘Well, I’m more than satisfied.’

Matt reached across the table and grabbed his friend’s wrist. ‘Charles, just hang on a minute and listen. These guys managed to trap it once before, using little more than arrows, spears . . . and spells. I think we should at least hear how they did it.’

‘C’mon, Matt, you said yourself that was probably over 10,000 years ago. Just give me a hundred milligrams of azaperone, or, better yet, detomidine in a hypodermic dart, and I’ll put the big guy to sleep for hours.’

Thomas grunted. ‘Science does not have all the answers, Mr Schroder, and this is no game park rhino you seek. The legend tells that the Great Ones were not merely beasts, they were smart. It would be best if we used our intelligence too and employed everything we have at our disposal.’

Charles groaned, held his head in both hands and shook it slowly.

Thomas looked back at Matt. ‘The legend says that Tooantuh’s spirit watches over us still and guards us from the Great Ones; and, more importantly, that he will return if he is needed. We must be ready to help him if he comes once again to battle the Great One.’ He gripped Matt’s hand harder. ‘I need to get up there to the wall, to see if I can still repair it.’

‘Sarah?’ Charles asked with grimace. Matt knew he was hoping she’d come down on his side and stop Matt being sidetracked by the old Indian.

Sarah tightened her lips and tilted her head slightly. ‘It all fits – the stone barrier, the Paleo-Indians sealing the creatures away, their reappearance after an earth tremor. Remember the results of the DNA analysis? The red hair, fair skin, near non-existent levels of eumelanin – they all indicate a creature that would be intolerant of sunlight.’ She knitted her brows, then pointed at Matt’s chest. ‘When did the attacks occur – what time of day?’

Matt thought hard for a moment. ‘The Jordan woman’s believed to have been attacked in the late afternoon, on an overcast day; the Wilson girl disappeared at dusk; Kathleen Hunter was taken at night . . . That’s it! It’s a night hunter, which makes sense if its normal habitat is a cave or underground.’

Charles exhaled loudly, but this time he was nodding. ‘You know, my great-uncle Charles disappeared while investigating deep limestone caves in southern China. I don’t know . . . maybe . . .’

Matt clicked his fingers. ‘That’s how it came to turn up all of a sudden. The stone wall must have been repaired and kept secure by Thomas’s ancestors, stretching back to when the first humans came to this area in about 8000 BCE. The recent earth tremor destroyed some of the wall, which opened up the cave and let the Gigantopithecus back into our environment,’ Matt said. ‘This is astonishing.’

Thomas’s face was a mask. ‘I can show you where the cave opening is. We should leave first thing in the morning.’

‘Done,’ Matt said.

‘Hey, wait a minute.’ Charles looked from Matt to Sarah, clearly sceptical about the idea of inviting someone who looked to be at least a hundred years old on an arduous mountain trek.

‘I vote we bring Thomas with us,’ Matt said. ‘Anyone prepared to second me?’

Sarah raised her hand. ‘Aye.’

Charles sat back, a look of resignation on his face. ‘Okay, but on one condition . . .’

Matt raised his eyebrows.

‘For scientific purposes, we don’t immediately seal the cave opening until we have a significant sample that proves the creature’s existence. You know very well, Matt, that this could be the most important scientific find of the century.’ Charles folded his arms in a this-is-not-negotiable gesture.

Matt looked at Sarah, who nodded. He turned back to Thomas, whose face was unreadable. ‘I’m afraid I agree with him, Thomas. We will help you, in return for you being our guide. But we must obtain proof of the creature’s existence first. Deal?’

Thomas stared at Matt for nearly a minute before his leathery face broke into a wide but humourless grin, showing teeth that were far too strong and white to be his own. ‘I agree to allow
you
to come with
me
, and I’m sure you will all find what you seek there. I will be ready in the morning.’ He patted Matt’s forearm as though he were an elderly relative catching up with a favourite nephew.

Matt cleared his throat. ‘Ahh, Thomas, one more thing . . . how will you know when the Tooantuh arrives, or
if
he arrives?’

Thomas, still holding Matt’s arm, stared deep into his eyes. ‘Can’t you feel it, Mr Kearns? He is already on his way.’

TWENTY-TWO

Hammerson watched the SUV burn up Highway 20 towards Atlanta, doing 120 miles per hour. The screen faded to a snowy white as the satellite went over the horizon, and he sat back, running one hand across his cropped hair.

‘So somehow he’s heard about whatever’s happened to Kathleen Hunter,’ Sam Reid said. ‘Or perhaps he sensed it – Arcadian was able to do some pretty weird things.’

‘When he had his demons under control,’ Hammerson added.

Sam nodded. ‘He’s heading for Asheville.’ He wheeled himself around the desk. ‘Head, heart and hands – I’ve still got ’em all, boss. Let me go – he’ll trust me. I just need to get close to him.’

Hammerson shook his head. ‘Sorry, Sam, not this time. I’m going to need you looking over my shoulder.’

He headed for the door but Sam cut in front of him. ‘Boss, I can do this.’

Jack Hammerson leaned forward to grip the armrests of Sam’s chair and look into his broad and battle-scarred face. ‘I know you can, soldier – but not this time. If things go bad for me, I’ve already recommended you take over the HAWC command. Your field skills, strategic thinking and HAWC experience are assets we need – and they’re exactly what
I’ll
need in my ear when I’m standing in front of the Arcadian trying to bring him in.’

Sam exhaled and started to look away, then quickly turned back to his colonel. ‘What about Senesh? If she sees you first, you’ll end up in a shit storm.’

Hammerson paused and thought for a second. He nodded. ‘You’re right. Get me Casey Franks. Tell her she’s got thirty minutes to meet me on the chopper pad. Fight fire with fire – one bad-ass woman against another.’ He smiled grimly as he went out the door. ‘Who said this job can’t be fun?’

*

On his way to the chopper pad, Hammerson took a call from the field. Only two bodies had been pulled from the Rio Grande and there was a problem – they weren’t Laredo PD. In fact, they showed no DNA, facial, dental or fingerprint matches to anyone in North America. A sense of foreboding grew inside Hammerson as he listened.

‘What else?’ he asked.

‘Analysis of the corpses showed numerous old scars from gunshot and stabbing trauma. In addition, both guys were built like tanks. My bet – Special Forces, just not ours.’

Hammerson groaned. ‘Global search?’

‘Yes, got something, but not a formal ID. A hit from a Tel Aviv dental laboratory for a crown in a second rear molar.’

‘Shit!’