Darkwind: Ancient Enemy 2 (31 page)

“What the hell is this?” Cole muttered. He slammed the pickup truck’s gearshift into reverse and stomped on the gas pedal as he turned around to look behind him.

Two more pickup trucks pulled out from the brush and rocks behind them, parking nose-to-nose in the middle of the road like the trucks in front of them had done.

They were blocked in.

Cole stomped on the brakes and the truck came to a jarring halt.

Stella looked into the back seat at David. He was scared, holding on to the back of the seat, his fingers dug into the fabric.

“It’s okay,” Stella whispered.

It’s not okay, Cole thought as he sat there with the pickup truck rumbling, his options running through his mind.

Could these men be flesh puppets controlled by the Ancient Enemy?

It was possible.

Or had they been double-crossed by Stella’s friend?

That seemed to be a more likely scenario to him.

Cole glanced back in front of them at the men hunkered down in the back of the two trucks aiming their rifles at them.

“You guys need to hold on,” Cole said. “Make sure David has his seatbelt on.”

“What are you going to do?” Stella asked him.

“I’m going to ram them,” he said and looked back at David. “You stay down low, you hear me?”

David nodded, staring at Cole with wide eyes.

“Wait a minute, Cole,” Stella said. “We don’t even know what they want.”

“I think it’s kind of obvious,” Cole said. “Your friend set this up somehow. They want to apprehend us for the cops. Or even worse, to enact their own justice for David’s parents.”

Cole gripped the steering wheel. The truck was still in reverse with his foot on the brake. He thought the best idea would be to reverse into the trucks behind them, perhaps saving any damage to the front of the truck so it could still run.

“Wait a minute,” Stella said and pointed at the windshield. “Someone’s getting out of the truck.”

Cole looked out the windshield at the tall thin man walking towards them from his pickup truck. The Native American man showed no fear. Cole recognized the man now. He should’ve recognized the beat-up GMC pickup the man had gotten out of. It was the same man who had met with Stella and David at the gas station diner.

“It’s Billy,” Stella said.

Cole pulled his nine millimeter out of his coat pocket and held it down low in his lap, ready to use it.

“Don’t shoot,” Stella said and opened the passenger door.

Navajo Reservation—Route 13

“W
hat the hell are you doing?!” Cole yelled at Stella as she got out of the truck and stood there next to it.

“It’s Billy,” Stella said again. “It’s the guy who was with Alice at the diner. He wants to tell us something.”

Cole looked back out the windshield at the tall Navajo man who stood like a statue in the middle of the road. He had his hands raised slightly in the air in a half-hearted surrendering gesture, and there was something white clutched in one of his hands.

“He has the envelope I gave him,” Stella said, not even looking back inside the truck at Cole. “The one with the money in it.”

Stella started walking towards Billy.

Cole put the truck in park but he left it running. He looked back at David who peered out the windshield, his hands cupped over the back of the seats. “Wait here,” Cole told him.

Cole got out of the truck with his gun in his hand.

“You can put your gun away,” Billy said to Cole, his deep voice carrying easily down the road.

Stella, who was now halfway between the front of their pickup truck and Billy, looked back at Cole. “Please put it away,” she said.

Cole glanced back at the two pickup trucks behind him. All of the men were armed, just like the men in the two pickup trucks in front of them. All of them had their rifles aimed at him and Stella. There was no way Cole could fight all of them.

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Billy told Cole as Stella walked a few steps closer towards him. He still had his hands raised in the air.

“What do you want?” Cole asked as he looked back at Billy.

“I want to show you the way to Joe Blackhorn’s property.”

“That’s where we’re going,” Cole yelled back.

Billy gave them a small smile and shook his head no. “I gave you a different set of directions than I gave to Alice.”

Stella stopped in the middle of the road.

“Alice called the police,” Billy said. “She had it planned that way all along. We set it up so you were going to a friend’s property.”

“But it’s not really Joe Blackhorn’s place,” Stella said.

“That’s correct,” Billy said. “The police, and I’m sure the feds, are on their way there right now.”

“Why are you helping us?” Stella asked.

“Before our meeting, I drew up two different maps and sets of directions. I took them both with me. I wanted to hear your story first. We’ve heard stories of what happened to those people at the dig site, including Jim Whitefeather. He was a friend of mine. And now we’ve all heard what happened to that boy’s parents. Some Navajo don’t believe in the legends anymore, and the whites don’t believe in them at all. But there is too much evidence to deny that something is going on right now. I wanted to hear your story first and then I would decide which directions I gave to you. I gave you directions that led to this spot.”

“So you believe me?” Stella asked.

Cole now realized that the men in the back of the pickup trucks were pointing their weapons away from them and towards the rocks and brush like they were afraid something might come out of the wilderness.

Like animals, Cole thought.

And now Cole heard sounds way out there in the growing darkness; there were animals moving around out there.

“We don’t have much time,” Billy said and lowered his hands. He held out the white envelope to Stella.

“You can have that for helping us,” Stella told him.

“I don’t want this money,” he told her. “It’s blood money, isn’t it?”

Stella couldn’t deny it.

“Take your money back. Inside the envelope is another set of directions. When you get to the end of this road, head north instead of south. Then follow the directions I’ve written down from there. Joe Blackhorn lives very far out in the desert, past Kayenta. But I was not lying when I said that I sent someone to contact him. He knows you are coming. I was also not lying when I said that I cannot be sure if he will agree to help you.”

“I understand,” Stella said as she stood right in front of Billy. She accepted the crumpled up envelope from him. “Thank you for helping us.”

“I’m helping David Bear,” Billy practically spat out. “I’m helping our people.”

Stella nodded like she understood.

Without another word Billy turned around and headed back to his pickup truck.

Stella hurried back to the truck and got in. Cole got in the driver’s side and they slammed the doors shut at the same time. Cole pushed the button down to lock the doors.

They watched out the windows as the trucks all turned around in the road and drove away in two different directions, their taillights growing smaller out the windshield and in the rearview mirror.

Stella opened up the envelope. All the money was still there, but another folded piece of paper was right on top of the hundred dollar bills. She pulled the paper out and unfolded it. It was much like the other paper: handwritten directions in neat handwriting and a hand drawn map.

She looked at Cole and then gave him the paper so he could look at it. She opened the glove box and pulled out a map of the Navajo Reservation they had bought at the gas station earlier. She selected a marker from the center console and marked the route to Joe Blackhorn’s property.

Cole watched Stella trace the route as he put the truck in drive, his foot still on the brake pedal. He glanced out the driver’s side window at the rocks and brush all around them. The land was getting very dark behind them, and the sun was dying behind the jagged mountains in front of them in purple and deep blue hues.

A howl from a coyote sounded from somewhere to their left, somewhere deep in the brush. Then another howl answered. And another one answered that one. It was like they were talking to each other.

“Let’s get going,” Cole said and he stomped down on the gas pedal.

Navajo Reservation

S
pecial Agent Palmer raced down the road in the night.

He was angry. He had talked to Agent Klein who was also angry that Captain Begay and his men hadn’t waited for them. And now Begay and his men were at the property that was supposed to be a ruse.

Palmer called Begay’s cell phone again. The last five phone calls had all gone to voicemail and Palmer hadn’t bothered leaving a message. But this time Begay picked up.

“Captain Begay speaking.” He answered the phone officially even though Palmer was sure the captain knew who was calling him.

“Begay,” Palmer snapped. “You were supposed to wait for us.”

“They’re not here,” Begay said, ignoring Palmer’s words.

Palmer sped down the road, the headlights from his black rental car piercing the darkness. According to his GPS he was almost there. He was driving along a road that wound through canyons and led down into a valley below. “What do you mean, they’re not there?”

“They’re not here,” Begay said a little slower like he was talking to someone who couldn’t understand him. “I don’t think they were ever here.”

Palmer wound around a bend in the twisting road and saw the police lights flashing below in the valley. Outside lights illuminated a scattering of structures that looked like trailers and maybe some kind of large barn.

Klein was already there, but Palmer hadn’t called him yet, wanting to talk to Begay first.

“I think either they smelled something rotten here,” Begay said, “or they were tipped off somehow.”

“Tipped off?”

“Maybe by the man who Alice met them with.”

“And who was that?”

“She won’t say,” Begay answered.

“Hold on. I’m here now.”

Palmer parked his car, a cloud of dust rising up all around it. The property was situated in a dale with jagged hills all around it, the largest hill of rock rising up only a few hundred yards behind the three mobile homes grouped together on the property.

Agent Klein marched right up to Palmer as soon as he got out of the car. “I’m reporting Captain Begay,” he said through clenched teeth. “I gave that sonofabitch explicit orders to wait for me.”

Palmer ignored Klein as they walked towards Begay who stood with two other officers. Other Tribal Police officers were milling around the scene, some of them standing next to their police vehicles.

“So what happened?” Palmer asked Begay, keeping his voice neutral.

“Like I told you, I think they were tipped off.”

“And you can’t get to this guy? You can’t make this Alice person tell you?”

“I can question her,” Begay said.

“Maybe you should tell her that she’s going to be charged with obstruction of justice.” Klein said.

Palmer pulled Begay away. “Can we talk a minute?”

Klein looked like he’d been slapped in the face and Palmer held up a finger to him, gesturing at him to wait behind.

“Sorry about that,” Palmer muttered as they walked away. “Is Klein always like this?”

Begay just stared at him, offering no information but his eyes answered the question for Palmer.

“Yeah,” Palmer breathed out. That’s why Klein was stationed out here, and that’s why he’d been here for so long now. “I know you don’t want to lean on this woman …”

“Her name is Alice Newcastle. She’s an archaeologist. She’s been working here for almost thirty years. Very respected in our community by many Navajo.”

Palmer nodded.

“And she’s very wealthy. Her family can afford the best lawyers in the country. And she’s very stubborn and principled.”

“Well, maybe if she realizes that her friend tricked her and Stella and the man she’s with are still on the loose …”

Begay nodded like he’d already thought of that. “I tried that line with her. She is concerned, but it’s still not a good enough reason for her to break her word. I don’t even know where they met Stella at; she won’t say anything. I’ll get my officers to start questioning people, but that could take days, maybe weeks.”

Palmer nodded and sighed heavily again. He had rushed down here and they were back to square one. “What about this guy they’re trying to find … Joe Blackhorn? Where does he live?”

“Not many know.”

Palmer winced. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“The few people who know where Joe Blackhorn lives keep it a secret. Joe Blackhorn doesn’t like to be bothered.”

“But there’s got to be some kind of property records or something.”

“He lives off the grid. People help him. He used to be a professor at Arizona State University years ago. He was kind of famous in those circles, I gather. And then he just stopped his research about fifteen years ago and came back here. No one knows why he changed so suddenly. I heard he cashed in all of the money he made and searched the Rez until he found a place to squat.”

“So he’s just living in a travel trailer or something out in the middle of the desert?”

Begay shook his head no. “More likely he’s living on someone else’s property, someone who’s helping to hide him from everyone else. Probably has his vehicles registered in someone else’s name.”

“God, this is going to be like a needle in a haystack,” Palmer said, wiping a hand through his close-cropped hair.

“Like I said, I’m going to have my people ask around. Maybe someone will talk eventually.” Begay glanced back through the cold darkness to make sure Klein wasn’t coming their way, and then he looked back at Palmer. “I’m more interested in why a woman and a fugitive would risk everything to come back down here to find a shaman.”

Palmer didn’t say anything.

“That doesn’t strike you as odd?”

Of course it did, but Palmer didn’t admit it.

“You still don’t think there are some … some unexplainable things going on here?” Begay asked.