Cheyenne (15 page)

There were a couple of large chairs with an ottoman, and an oversized loveseat at the far end of the porch just outside the kitchen area. I chose the loveseat. I set down my juice and what was left of my granola bar on the side table, and placed the book in the open seat next to me. I still didn’t see or hear any of the boys, but I wasn’t too worried yet. I knew I couldn’t go anywhere; I didn’t need to or have the desire now that I had gotten what I came for in the first place. I had the book now, and this is what my parents wanted me to find. Besides, I had no place else to be…

I finished eating and drank the remaining juice while I looked out into the forest. My gaze travelled down the road and followed as far as it could before the road curved. I glanced at the outbuilding. Both the Jeep and truck were parked there, so they couldn’t have gone too far.

I settled into my seat and pulled the book into my lap, untying the leather strap holding the ring and letting it fall to the side. The ring rolled into my palm. It was just as remarkable as I remembered last night. I put it on the ring finger of my right hand and arranged the stone so it was facing my palm. This way I could look at it without flipping my hand over as I turned the pages.

I drew my attention back to the book and removed the cloth wrapped over it. It wasn’t a regular book; it was a worn leather journal with unique symbols engraved on its cover. It was cracked on the spine from being held open so many times, and the edges were worn.

I opened the first page. It had darkened with age, and in the center of the page were more strange symbols. Different from the ones on the front of the cover, these were entwined together in a single strip that ran across the page. It was strangely familiar. I looked over at my right hand to the ring my parents had given me as a small child, the ring I had always worn. My eyes widened; the symbols were identical. I’d thought it was just an intricate design, the curves looping and weaving in and out of each other.

I flipped through a couple of pages, examining the symbols. They were always in the center and always in a straight row across. At first glance they appeared similar, but then they would be in a different order, or new glyphs would crop up. Some resembled clovers and squiggly lines connected together.

There were five pages in total with the symbols. I continued to flip through the journal; the following pages held more writing. It looked like a foreign language I had never seen before, but I wasn’t quite sure. It was some sort of ancient script.

I frowned. This made no sense. Why would my parents give me a book written in a language I didn’t understand? I didn’t remember them ever talking about it, or seeing anything with this type of writing on it. But I was sure this is what they wanted me to find. Somehow, they must have believed I would understand.

I pursed my lips. I needed to do some research.

I set the journal down and ran back into the cabin. I didn’t recall seeing my laptop in the bedroom, but maybe Colt had brought it in for me. Why hadn’t I wanted it earlier? I looked in the closet. It wasn’t there. I quickly strode into the great room and glanced around. Empty. I thought back. The last time I used it was at the coffee shop in town. I had done some research on the cathedral and, when I finished, I had tossed it in the case and put it in the back of the Jeep. Of course! It must still be sitting there.

I marched out to the Jeep and tried the handle. Unsurprisingly, it was locked. Peering through the tinted glass in the back, I saw the computer, still in its case on the floor. Great, now what was I going to do? I was sure they hadn’t left the key lying around for me to casually pick up, and I was one hundred percent positive Callon had it in his front pocket. Thinking about how I’d acquired it last time brought a blush to my cheeks. No, I wasn’t going to try that stunt again, at least not this soon. I also wasn’t in the mood to wait for them to return and then kindly ask for it, especially Callon. More than likely he’d refuse just to rile me. I’d have to break in.

I ran inside and grabbed a wire hanger from the closet. How hard could it be? I just had to slide it between the glass and the door. I bent the hanger and worked it down in the crack. It was harder than it seemed. Nothing was catching or moving. Did this only work on older cars? I jigged the hanger back and forth and suddenly, it broke through. My hand slid down, and scratched against the wire.

“
Ouch!” I cried. I lifted it to find that I was bleeding from a thin scratch across my palm.

This definitely wasn’t going to work.

I searched the area for a stone. I found a decent sized rock, one I could easily handle, and wound up like a pitcher getting a better aim. I felt fairly confident; I didn’t have too bad of an arm for a girl. Launching the rock with everything I had, it hit the back window. Success!

However, my triumph was short-lived, as a split second later the rock bounced off the window and ricocheted into my lower lip. Pain tore through my face, and I moaned. I had forgotten the back windows were made from polycarbonate, not glass. I fell to my knees and grabbed the right side of my face.
What the heck was the matter with me? Was I trying to kill myself?

I forced myself up off the gravel driveway, feeling both stunned and embarrassed. The safest thing for me to do right now was not to throw any more missiles. So what could I use instead?

I scanned the wooded area for a fallen branch I could use to smash the front window. A hefty one was sitting by the road, so I grabbed it and dragged it over to the car. It was heavier than I thought. I wrapped both hands around it, twisting my body so I could get some good momentum into the swing, then let it fly.

It was more difficult to control than I imagined. Instead of breaking the glass, it bounced off the bumper, returning to hit me in my right eye. I fell to the ground.
Crap!

Clutching my eye in my hands, I tried to work through the pain. So what if the branch was a little unwieldy? I was on a mission. I needed my computer.

I got back up, and pulled my hand away from my face. There was blood on it. Ouch. I came to the conclusion it would be safer if I took my rings off and placed them in my shorts pocket.

Perhaps another approach would be more prudent.

As I looked around the driveway again, my eyes came to rest on the outbuilding. Racing toward it, I flung the doors open. It was more of a horse tack barn, but in the far corner sat a workbench with some tools hanging above it. I glanced through the selection until I came across what I was looking for—a sledgehammer! If this didn’t work, nothing would.

Running back to the Jeep, my eyes narrowed in determination. I was going to have the last laugh with this pile of scrap metal and wheels. I planted my feet firmly and placed both of my hands on the long narrow handle of the sledgehammer. I pulled my arms back, then swung with all my might. The window shattered as the hammer fell to the ground.

Precisely on the top of my right foot.

Swearing, I fell to the ground for the third time, grasping my leg. My right foot was throbbing; actually my entire right side was reeling in pain. Rage burned through my veins. I was not going down without a fight! I pushed through the hurt and picked the sledgehammer up. With a yell I swung it repeatedly, beating the window into a glassy pulp.

The car alarm went off, screeching in my ears. That was the last straw. I wasn’t as careful as I could have been as I leaned into the broken window to unlock the door. I scratched my forearms. I unlocked the doors and reached across the seat to get the laptop case only to drop it. A piece of glass ripped through my shorts. Pain blazed up my leg, and I looked down to see a deep gash across my upper thigh that was oozing blood.
Could this get any worse?

Crawling out, I ran around the front of the Jeep to release the hood latches to stop the auto alarm screaming. Stepping up on the front bumper, I found the electrical box and pulled the lid off. It took a few minutes, but I found the fuse for the alarm and pulled it out. The squealing ceased, replaced by blissful silence.

But the Jeep hadn’t finished its fun with me yet. As I was about to climb back down, I banged my head against the hood. On instinct I flinched, only to lose my balance and fall to the gravel on my hands.

For a long while I sat on the ground, my head between my knees.
For all that is holy!
How did car thieves make it look so easy?

I wrenched myself up, walked to the driver’s door and unlocked it. I headed to the back hatch, pulled it open, grabbed my laptop in its case and put it under my arm. I turned, bloody and battered, then staggered up the stairs to the porch.

I let myself fall into the seat. Everything hurt, and I was probably still bleeding, but all my struggles had only made my desire for answers stronger. I put my laptop case on the small table in front of me, my arm caked with dried blood. I’d clean it off later.

I unzipped the bag, pulled out the laptop, and turned it on. Nothing happened. I wanted to scream to the sky. The battery was dead! I dug into the bottom of my case and found the power cord. I took the laptop and the power cord with me as I entered the cabin, and proceeded to the kitchen table where I could let it charge while I was using it. I then realized that I had left the journal out on the porch.

I stumbled back out the door to grab it. As I entered the doorway, I heard Daniel’s voice.

“
What the heck happened to the Jeep?”

He was coming up the drive, inspecting the damage as he approached.

Callon and Colt were right behind him, staring at the log, stone, and sledgehammer. Blood coated all three items from where they’d hit me or where I’d grabbed them. The side window was smeared with it, as well as the backseat, driver’s door, and grille.

In an instant both of them were sprinting towards the cabin. They stopped dead in their tracks when they saw me. I must’ve been quite a sight. I was covered in blood from head to toe, my right eye was swollen shut, and my lower lip was turning into a balloon. My arms were scratched, my right thigh was bleeding, and my shorts were torn. To top it all off, my head began throbbing.

Looking at all three of them for a brief moment, I hobbled to the loveseat on the porch to grab the journal. Their eyes were glued to me as I picked up the journal and slowly retreated into the cabin.

Colt burst out laughing, Daniel following with a mixture of snorting and hooting. Even Callon was laughing. Ha, maybe
he who must be obeyed
does have a sense of humor, after all.

I sat down at the kitchen table and turned my laptop on. It was pointless to wash up now; they’d already seen me and most of the scratches and bumps looked worse than they were. It probably would have done little good to prevent the harassing I was about to endure. Did they have wireless internet this far out of town?

The laughing trio walked into the cabin and came towards me. I couldn’t look at them; I was far too embarrassed. Colt stepped forward and gently turned my chin toward them. I winced; my jaw and lower lip were throbbing with pain. I peered into his smiling eyes and knew exactly what was coming.

“
I guess we know the answer to who won the fight with the Jeep.”

They all burst into laughter with Daniel doubled up holding his side. I got up and started to limp out of the room. Both Callon and Colt came to my side and redirected me to the couch in the great room, the laugher momentarily dying down.

They sat me down to assess the damage, but they just couldn’t remove the grins from their faces. Colt spoke again, but this time with more sincerity, “So what was in the Jeep you couldn’t wait for?”

I tried to answer, but my mouth didn’t move quite right since it was so swollen. “Waptop.”

The snorting started again from behind the couch; Daniel was having a hard time controlling himself.

“
Oh I see,” Colt said. “Do you think you could tell us exactly what happened? Since we already know the extent of your injuries.”

Colt was trying to keep a straight face, though his mouth continued to twitch into a mocking smile. Callon, however, seemed more concerned. My face flushed. What did it matter? They were never going to let me live this down. If they got it out of their system now, maybe it would be better later.
Dream on, Cheyenne, like that’s going to happen…

I looked at them with my one good eye, and started to explain. The only problem was that while I was trying to talk most of my words came out slurred. This made it even more amusing to them. Eventually, though, they got the majority of their laugher out of their system, and started to tend my wounds. They lay me down on the couch as they cleaned the blood from my face. Luckily the cuts above my eyes were just minor scratches.

Callon brought in a couple of bags of ice for the right side of my face. They moved down to my arms, hands, and thigh, cleaning and bandaging as they went. Callon checked my foot to make sure I hadn’t broken it. I was fortunate the sledgehammer hadn’t hit in the right spot and that I had a decent pair of hiking shoes on.

So much for researching the journal today. I didn’t think I could do it even if I tried. Callon was back in doctor-mode, wanting to know when was the last time I ate. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought it was about five hours ago. He made me a small protein shake and handed it to me with a straw. Colt helped me sit up, and I tried to drink as much as I could. Callon wanted me to take some painkillers, and I didn’t fight him on this one. Without my irritation over the Jeep’s cunning plan to foil me at every turn, I was really starting to feel the hurt.