The Graves of Plague Canyon (The Downwinders Book 3) (3 page)

“Can I talk to your daughter?” Deem asked.

“I wish you could,” Ester replied. “She goes in and out of
consciousness. Right now she’s out; she’s been out since last night. That’s why
I called Carma — I’m so worried! I don’t know if that letter you’re holding
will matter one way or the other, but I need to know before I drive her back to
the hospital! Come on, I’ll show you.”

Ester rose from her seat and walked down a short hallway,
turning into the first bedroom on the right. Deem followed. Inside was a twin
bed with a woman about Deem’s age lying under a blanket. She looked peaceful
and calm, as though she was sleeping.

“You have no idea what’s wrong with her?” Deem asked.

“No,” Ester replied. “Neither did the doctors. But look…”

Ester walked to her daughter. She pulled down the covers and
lifted her hand, showing Deem. Then she pinched her daughter.

“See? Nothing!” Ester said. “No response.”

She replaced the hand and covered her daughter back up.

“Alright,” Deem said, opening the letter. “Let’s see what
this says.” She pulled a single sheet of paper from the envelope and opened it.

There were about ten hand-written lines. She struggled to
read the elaborate cursive, but after a while realized it wasn’t just the fancy
lettering that was giving her trouble — there were some words she just couldn’t
make out at all, even when she tried to sound out the letters.

“I’m sorry,” Deem said, looking up at Ester. “I can only read
part of this.”

“You have the gift, but you can’t read it either?” Ester asked.

“This must be something I’m unfamiliar with,” Deem said. “Until
I understand the context of something in the River, I can’t read about it. This
was written by someone who understands something I don’t.”

“The River?” Ester asked.

“It’s what we call the place we go to, to see things that
other people can’t see,” Deem replied. “Your daughter never talked about the
River?”

“No, Lizzy never mentioned it,” Ester said. “Then again, I
don’t exactly encourage those things.”

“Ah,” Deem replied, thinking of her own mother and how she
disliked anything related to her gift, considering it evil. Deem flipped the
letter over, checking the back side, and dropped into the River briefly to inspect
it, but nothing special appeared. Then she took another look at the envelope.

“There’s a return address in New Harmony,” Deem said. “Do you
know who sent this?”

“No idea,” Ester said. “Lizzy said she’d reached out to
someone who could diagnose her, and that’s all she communicated before she
passed out yesterday. I have no idea who she talked to.”

“Well, I can take this letter back to Carma if you want,”
Deem said. “If she thinks it’s a good idea, I can drive up to New Harmony and
try to talk to whoever sent it.”

“Oh, would you?” Ester asked. “I’m worried sick about her,
and I just don’t know what to do to help. I’m not a big believer in these
things, but I know Lizzy is, so if you would do that for me, I’d be extremely
grateful.”

“Sure,” Deem said. “No problem.” She stared down at the girl
in the bed, and couldn’t help thinking that she seemed a lot like herself —
same age, same size, same looks. Even the same hairstyle, though Lizzy’s hair was
dark black.

“I guess I better head back,” Deem said. “Can you give me
your phone number? I’ll call you as soon as I find out anything.”

“Sure,” Ester said, leading them out of the bedroom and back
into the living room. She went to the kitchen and jotted her number down on a
small pad, then ripped off the top paper and handed it to Deem. “Here it is.
Thank you for coming all the way out here. I’m really quite desperate, and
Carma was the only one I could think of to turn to. With her unresponsive like
this, I want to take her back to the hospital, but Lizzy was so insistent that
it wouldn’t help. I really need Carma’s opinion on what I should do.” Ester
opened the door for Deem.

“I’ll discuss it with her,” Deem said, walking through and
down the front steps. She turned back to Ester. “Don’t worry. I’ll call you!”
she said, and watched as the worried look on Ester’s face melted a little into
thankfulness.

“I just think it’s disgusting that you’d pick up the phone
while you’re having sex,” Deem said as Carma scooped a large spoonful of
casserole from a baking dish in the center of the table and dropped the
steaming hot food onto Deem’s plate.

“Oh, Winn, you didn’t?” Carma said, tilting her head toward
Winn and giving him a disapproving look that held a small smile.

“Have sex?” Winn asked, sipping from a beer. “Of course I had
sex.”

“Who would take a phone call in the middle of sex?” Deem
asked, digging into her casserole. “Not only is it weird, what must the other
person think? Weird and rude!”

“What if they were on the phone to someone else, too?” Winn
asked, cracking a smile at Deem.

“I don’t understand sex these days,” Carma said, pouring wine
for Deem and herself. “Back in my day it was so simple and clothed. Now
everyone gets naked for sex. Doesn’t seem very erotic.”

“I’ll have to try that,” Winn said. “Sex while fully clothed.
I don’t think I’ve ever done it.”

“Oh, my,” Carma said. “This talk is making me blush. Can we
please change the subject?’

“Want to go with me up to New Harmony after dinner?” Deem
asked Winn.

“What’s up in New Harmony?” Winn replied.

“Deem did the most wonderful favor for me today,” Carma said.
“She drove all the way out to Fredonia to check on my niece. Her daughter is
ill, and received a diagnosis that was far too cryptic to read.”

“By the way, Ester says she’s your great-great-great-niece or
thereabouts,” Deem said.

“Details,” Carma replied, waving her hand dismissively.

“The diagnosis was mailed by someone in New Harmony,” Deem
said, “but I couldn’t make sense of it. I brought it back, and Carma can make
out most of the rest, but there’s still a few words we don’t understand.”

“I’m telling you,” Carma said, “it’s Batchelder. She’s losing
it in her old age. Writing a diagnosis that the reader likely couldn’t make out.
She knows better.”

“You know this woman in New Harmony?” Winn asked, shoveling a
forkful of casserole into his mouth.

“From way back,” Carma replied. “She’s so old, I’m surprised
she can still write. She does remote visits for a fee, so I expect my niece
paid her.”

“Remote visits?” Deem asked.

“She can travel extensively from her body while in the
River,” Carma said, “and she made a name for herself visiting the sick in very
remote places. Normally she’d heal them while she’s there; sending a diagnosis
like this after the visit is a bit unusual.”

“Here,” Deem said, handing Winn the envelope. He opened it
and inspected the letter inside.

“I can’t read most of this,” Winn said. “The words just
confuse me.”

“Well, not that I’d want to give away my age,” Carma said,
“but I can read a lot of it. The problem is the four or five words I can’t
read. They could be important. Batchelder should never have made it so complex.
I doubt my niece would ever have been able to do anything with it.”

“What about the part you
can
read?” Winn asked.

“It doesn’t look good,” Deem said.

“Yes, she’s in a bad state,” Carma said. “I feel anxious for
her. If you go to New Harmony and talk to Batchelder, she should be able to
explain what the unintelligible words are. If she’s willing to talk to you,
that is. She can be so infuriatingly anal. She’s very opinionated and wordy,
too. If I didn’t despise the c-word so much, I’d call her that.”

Winn snickered.

Deem rolled her eyes at the snickering.
Sometimes he’s so
immature,
she thought.

“No, I’m not kidding!” Carma said to Winn. “You go with Deem
and meet her. Come back and tell me if she isn’t a… a c-word.”

Winn began to laugh.

Carma turned to Deem. “What’s so funny?”

“Ignore him,” Deem said, returning to her plate of food.

“It’s the way you say ‘c-word’,” Winn said, laughing more.
“Your face scrunches up like you’ve bitten into a lemon.”

Carma looked at Deem again. “I like lemons!” she said.

Winn laughed more. “Yes, I’ll go with you, Deem,” Winn said,
trying to catch his breath. “Now I have to meet this woman. See if she’s a
c-word.” He broke into laughter again.

“You may laugh at my expense all you want,” Carma said,
picking up her wine glass and taking a sip. “But when she’s being a c-word with
you, you’ll see what I mean.”

Winn began to laugh so hard he put his fork down and turned
away from the others, holding his hand over his mouth as though he might spit
out his food.

Carma turned back to Deem, who shrugged her shoulders.

“Men,” Carma said. “So easily amused.”

“You don’t want to come with us to New Harmony, I take it?”
Deem asked, Winn still trying to control his laughter on the other side of the
table.

“I would, but I’m so busy with Lyman right now,” Carma said.
“His plans are on a tight timetable, and I have assignments.”

“Can you tell us what it is you’re working on with him?” Deem
asked.

“Best not, dear,” Carma said. “That way, if you’re ever
called into court, you won’t have to perjure yourself.”

Not the answer I was expecting,
Deem thought.

“Have you heard from Awan recently?” Winn asked, still
laughing a little.

“He called and left me a message yesterday,” Carma replied. “He
said he’s enjoying his trip. Mentioned something about the conference, but I
didn’t pay attention to most of the details. This work with Lyman has me so
distracted.”

Deem finished her dinner and joined Winn in clearing the
table for Carma, who protested that they didn’t need to help.

“Really, really, I’ve got this,” Carma said, slapping at
Winn’s hand as he attempted to pick up her plate. “You two get off to New
Harmony before it gets too late. Batchelder probably retires before the sun
sets.”

“You’re sure?” Winn asked.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Carma replied. “Go.”

Deem and Winn walked out to the front, past the hallway of
pictures that showed scenes from the house’s history.

“Who’s driving?” Deem asked as they opened the door and
stepped down to the gravel driveway.

“I’ll drive,” Winn said. “You’ve already hauled out to
Fredonia and back today.”

“You’ve still got that letter?” Deem asked.

Winn slapped his ass, holding his hand over his back pocket.
“Right here!” He gave Deem a wide smile.

Deem rolled her eyes and got into his Jeep.

“You’re an immoral degenerate, aren’t you son?” the old woman
asked Winn as she sat across from him in her living room. Deem watched Winn’s
face as he reacted with surprise.

“Now, you,” the woman said, turning to Deem, “you’re one of
the Lord’s pure vessels, aren’t you my dear? But you’re lost, pathetically drifting.
Hold to the iron rod, child. ’Tis strong and bright and true.”

Deem was at a loss for words, so she just stared back at the
woman.

“We’ve come to see if you…” Winn started, but the woman held
up an old, gnarled hand for Winn to stop.

“My house is not to be further soiled with the words of a
debauched sodomite!” she said, silencing him.

Winn turned to Deem, looking pissed.
I guess we’re
beginning to understand what Carma meant by c-word,
Deem thought.

“Why don’t you tell me why you’re here, my dear?” the woman
asked Deem. “My soul would do well to hear the musical strains of a virginal
voice.”

Deem began to turn red, a mixture of embarrassment and anger.
She held up the envelope. “You sent this to a woman in Fredonia. She’s
unconscious and can’t read it. Neither can her mother, so she asked us for
help. We can’t read it either, not all of it. We were hoping you’d tell us what
it says.”

“Fredonia?” the woman replied. “Oh, yes, her. Poor soul. Very
sick.”

“Is this a diagnosis?” Deem asked. “What did you recommend to
her? Tell us, and we’ll relay the information.”

“Hand it to me, would you dear?” the woman asked.

Deem rose from her seat and passed the envelope to the woman,
who had introduced herself to them as Sister Batchelder.

As she read the letter, the old woman mumbled. “Oh, yes… yes…
I should have written that differently, I suppose.”

“You say Lizzy is bad off?” Deem asked.

“Very bad. Her soul is diseased. There’s nothing I can do on
my own to cure her,” Batchelder replied.

“Surely you wrote more than that,” Deem said. “Even I could
make out some of the words. You were suggesting something.”

“I wrote of two options,” the woman replied. “One, she could
kill herself before the disease cripples her soul any further. That would
arrest it.”

“Doesn’t seem like a good option,” Winn said.

“Be silent, fiend of perversion!” Batchelder spat at Winn,
who shrunk back in his chair from the angry woman.

“What was the second option?” Deem asked Batchelder, wanting
to speed things up.

“The disease she has is very rare,” the woman replied. “I’ve
seen it only once before. It was cured by callum. So that’s why I offered the
first option, killing herself. A lot easier.”

“Callum?” Deem asked. “What is that?”

“A substance so rare, it’s only been found in one place
around here, as far as I know,” Batchelder replied. “And getting to it is
nearly impossible.”

“Where?” Deem asked.

“Plague Canyon,” the woman answered. “Ever heard of it?”

Deem wracked her memory. She came up blank.

“No, I expect you wouldn’t,” Batchelder said. “No one’s been
in that canyon in a hundred years, and no one will be going in anytime soon. So
best you go back to Fredonia and tell her about killing herself.”

“I can’t do that,” Deem said. “I can’t tell someone to commit
suicide.”

“It’ll be so much better for her if she does,” Batchelder
replied. “If the disease continues, she’ll have no hope in the afterlife.”

Deem looked up at Winn to see what he thought.

“Don’t turn to the sodomite for answers,” Batchelder said
quietly to Deem. “His mind is twisted and infected by perversion.”

I’ve got to get out of here,
Deem thought.
Carma was right,
this woman is a c-word.

“Where is Plague Canyon?” Deem asked.

“Over the Arizona border,” Batchelder said. “East of Joe
Blake Hill. You know that area?”

“A little,” Deem said. “I live in Mesquite.”

“Ah, then maybe you know my hero, Cliven.”

“Cliven?” Deem asked. “Cliven Bundy? The rancher?”

“Plague Canyon and most of its surroundings are on land owned
by Willie Hinton,” Batchelder said. “It’s been in his family for over a hundred
years, since way back when Hurricane was settled. He’s been ranching on nearby
federal land nearly as long, and he’s got himself a little standoff with the
federal government right now, same as Cliven. His property is patrolled by
freedom fighters on horseback, all armed and ready to defend the ranch from
trespassers and federal interlopers. So getting to the canyon is extremely
difficult; if the rough terrain doesn’t stop you, the guns will. I haven’t
heard of anyone trying in years.”

Same last name as me,
Deem thought.
I wonder if I’m related to him.

“Do you know where in the canyon we could find the callum?”
Deem asked.

“The old story is that there’s ancient Indian ruins in that
canyon. Anasazi. Willie doesn’t ever let anyone in, so it’s never been formally
discovered by white folk. Do you remember up in Range Creek a while back?
Wilcox sold his family land to the state, and they discovered all those ruins
on it, preserved from looters because Wilcox never let anyone in?”

“I recall hearing about that,” Deem said. “The state bought
it so they could protect it.”

“This land with Willie Hinton is the same thing,” Batchelder
said. “No one has the faintest clue that there are ruins in that canyon,
because Hinton doesn’t let anyone near the place. It’s been untouched since
1905.”

“Surely someone has seen them,” Deem said. “That’s wide open
land. People hike it.”

“Not Hinton’s land,” Batchelder replied. “He shoots
trespassers. Seems like someone gets shot there every few years, and it’s
enough to scare others away. The canyon itself is hard to get to. There’s only
one way in, and it faces the federal land that they’re patrolling. I’ve only
heard of one other person making it in there to come back out alive. He said
the place was so haunted, he’d never return.”

“He went in to get callum?” Deem asked.

“Yes, he brought some out to save his father from a slender
infection,” Batchelder said. “It worked.”

“What is callum, exactly?” Deem asked.

“I have no idea,” the woman replied. “Never seen the stuff
myself. I only know it comes from there, and nowhere else.”

“If we were to get some callum,” Deem said, “it would cure
Lizzy? In Fredonia?”

“Oh, I would expect so,” Batchelder replied. “She’d only need
to inhale a little of it. It’s miraculous, really. But so hard to get.”

Deem stood, anxious to leave. “Thank you for your time,” Deem
said. She walked toward the door.

“It was nice to meet you, my dear,” Batchelder said. “Return
anytime, but please don’t darken my door with degenerate companions. I try to
keep a pure house, worthy of a visit from the Lord.”

“He’s my friend,” Deem said as she stepped out the door, Winn
following her. “I don’t think the Lord would turn him away. You’ve been pretty
rude to him.”

“Think how unthoughtful you’ve been, bringing such filth into
my home,” Batchelder said. “I overlooked it only to help your ill friend, and
because of your virginal sweetness, my dear. Perhaps your dalliance in apostasy
has eroded your sense of proper judgment. Why don’t you go talk to your bishop?
Repent, and get yourself back on the proper path.”

Deem turned from the woman. They walked back to Winn’s Jeep,
parked in a dirt driveway thirty feet from the house.

“Carma was right,” Winn said, unlocking the car.

“No, she wasn’t,” Deem said, opening the car door and hopping
inside. “She’s no c-word. She’s a total cunt.” She slammed the door.

▪ ▪ ▪

“How deliciously mysterious!” Carma said. “The Hintons
settled Hurricane. You’re a Hinton, aren’t you Deem?”

They were resting in the comfortable chairs of Carma’s
sitting room, with its large glass windows that looked out over the back yard
and the small hill that rose behind the house. The view always calmed Deem.

“That’s me,” she replied. “A Hinton since I was born.”

“Batchelder sure was a piece of work,” Winn said.

“Doubt me at your peril!” Carma replied. “You laughed at me,
but I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yes,” Winn answered. “I think Deem called her a ‘
total
c-word’.” Winn gave Deem a wink.

“She kept saying I was virginal,” Deem said. “How does she
know?”

“Batchelder thinks she knows everything,” Carma replied. “One
of her irritating qualities, among many.”

“Well, since she thought I was a virgin, she answered all my
questions,” Deem said.

“Yes, and what intriguing answers you got!” Carma said. “This
mysterious canyon sounds enthralling but a little terrifying. I assume the two
of you will sneak in?”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Winn replied.

“We don’t even know what callum is, or what it looks like,”
Deem said. “We could sneak in, but how would we know what to collect?”

“Two separate issues,” Winn replied. “We’ll have to figure
out how to get into the place regardless. I say we go there tomorrow morning
and determine the lay of the land. We can work on the callum later.”

“Alright but… how dare you speak!” Deem said laughing,
raising her hand to mock Batchelder. “Be silent, you filthy sodomite!” Winn
broke up with her.

“Oh, she didn’t!” Carma said, raising a hand to cover her
mouth , a horrified look on her face. “Tell me she didn’t!”

“She called him every name in the book,” Deem said, reaching
for a throw and wrapping it around herself. “Wouldn’t let him talk at all. Told
me not to bring him back.”

“Oh, I am so dreadfully embarrassed!” Carma said.

“It’s not your fault, Carma,” Winn said. “You warned us about
her.”

“I’ve never liked her, you know,” Carma replied. “No, not on my
best day! So self-righteous, like so many of them around here. If there’s one
thing I cannot abide, it’s self-righteousness!” She stood. “I have a delicious pineapple
upside-down cake, would either of you like a piece?”

“I would love some,” Deem said. “Can I help?”

“No, you stay right there, you look like a bug in a rug,”
Carma answered. “Winn?”

“I’ll pass, thank you,” Winn said. Carma stepped out of the
room.

“Sneak in?” Deem asked.

“Yeah, why not?” Winn replied.

“It just seems like we’re searching in the dark, not knowing
what we’re looking for.”

“We gotta go with what we know,” Winn replied. “And the worst
that can happen is we’ll see some ruins no one else has seen. That’ll be fun
regardless.”

“If we don’t get shot,” Deem said.

“I’ll bring my gun.”

“No, you won’t. I’m not going to get in the middle of a
shoot-’em-up between you and some crazy government fundamentalist.”

“I’m bringing it, Deem. For rattlesnakes, if nothing else.”

Deem sighed. There was no changing Winn’s mind about guns.
Even if she got him to cave in and promise not to bring it, she knew he’d just
hide it from her and bring it anyway.

“Tell me if you think this is moist enough,” Carma said as
she returned to the room and handed Deem a plate with a fork. “It’s a splendid
recipe from my cousin Jenny, who used to live in Illinois. The poor dear died
from being run through by a bull’s horn. I think it is the sweetest version of
pineapple upside-down cake I’ve ever tasted, but you be the judge.”

Deem tried a forkful and nodded. “It’s very sweet.”

“Do you like it?” Carma asked. “Tell me you like it or I
shall whisk it away.”

“Of course she likes it,” Winn replied. “She loves sweet
things.”

“Let her answer for herself, Winn,” Carma said.

“I like it,” Deem said. “It’s really good.”

“There, you see?” Carma said. “Another convert to Jenny’s
cake. I won’t tell you the secret ingredient because you’d spit it out.”

Deem stopped chewing. Winn snickered. Carma noticed.

“It’s nothing bad,” Carma said. “Don’t worry.”

“I need to be getting back to Moapa,” Winn said, “if we’re
going to find Plague Canyon tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, nonsense, you’ll stay here,” Carma said. “It’s daft to
drive all the way back to Nevada just to turn around and come back here.”

“Alright, if you insist,” Winn said.

“I do insist,” Carma replied. “You can always stay here,
young man. I love having manly energy in the house. Keeps the place on edge.”