Tomahawk Life Force 4w3h

Tomahawk Life Force

Jeff Barnhart

Copyright © 2012 by Jeff Barnhart.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012921636 ISBN: Hardcover Softcover Ebook

978-1-4797-5076-4 978-1-4797-5075-7 978-1-4797-5077-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

Chapter 1 Bonestown History

Chapter 2 Bonestown History, Jasmine and Aero

Chapter 3 Bonestown History, Jared and Kamile

Chapter 4 Bonestown History, Evil Intensified

Chapter 5 Bonestown History, Jared’s family evolves

Chapter 6 Bonestown History, Jared and Jennifer’s home

Chapter 7 Bonestown History, The House and a union of souls

Chapter 8 The Ayers family

Chapter 9 Mind’s Eye

Chapter 10 Ghosts of the mind

Chapter 11 Bonestown-A new facade

Chapter 12 Bonestown, the rebuild and the hunt

Chapter 13 Bonestown History, The lives of Jared and Jennifer

Chapter 14 “Bonestown History—Women

Chapter 15 “Bonestown History—Chief Steel Cirones and his tribe”

Chapter 16 “Bonestown History—Running Bear’s Revenge”

Chapter 17 “Bonestown History—Running Bear’s spirit takes over”

Chapter 18 “Bonestown History—Little Eagle”

Chapter 19 “Bonestown Land and Indians”

Chapter 20 “The Easy Street Bar and Grill”

Chapter 21 “A life half spent”

Chapter 22 “My tormentor”

Chapter 23 “Crazy Ray”

Chapter 24 “The Chase and Araian Ayers”

Chapter 25 “Examination of the Soul”

Chapter 26 “Confrontation and Death”

Chapter 27 “The Two Sides of Death” Side One: Transition

Chapter 28 “Discoveries”

Chapter 29 “Life Force of the Tomahawk”

Chapter 30 “Flying Eagle Mountain and the Quest Fulfilled”

Chapter 31 “Sometimes you get want you want”

Epilogue

This book is dedicated to my father and mother for their during the rough times in my life.

Special thanks to Debra Adler for her advice in completing this book

Chapter 1

Bonestown History

We all die at our own preordained time, for some though, death isn’t permanent. In the spring of eighteen-hundred-and-sixty a town by the name of Bonestown began in the northern section of Arizona. Human bones were found in a valley about one hundred miles to the north of Phoenix. That would be the meager beginning of this town. Charles Street, his wife Jasmine, their two boys as well as Charles brother came upon this site as they traveled from the old states to the west. After reaching this site Charles and Jasmine climbed down from their wagon while their two children jumped off and scampered over to a pile of bones. When they came up close to the skeletal remains Jasmine exclaimed, “Oh how awful! There must have been a massacre here years ago. Either that or this is some sort of bone cemetery without headstones or the caring act of burying the dead. “Look over there! It looks as though there are torn clothes between those bones,” said Jasmine. “Yes dear,” replied Charles, “it appears it turned out to be a bad experience for the people around here, and maybe they didn’t have anyone left to do the burying. The people that lived here must have fought like crazy to save themselves. But there are bones here that may be Indians. They must have been attacking the settlers. See, over by that stump, looks like an Indian chief’s headset. I can’t say for sure but those dime novels I’ve been reading have the same kind of headset drawn on the pages.” “What happened here pa?” asked Jared, their oldest son, while picking up a small bone. “Son, I don’t really know other than there must have been a fight here and when they were done they’d wiped each other out.” “Daddy I’m sacred,” said Kamile, their second child.

“Don’t worry sweetie. These are just bones, they can’t hurt you. Charles I don’t like it here,” said Jasmine as she walked around the bone valley. “Let’s just get back on the wagon and get out of here!” “Yeah Charlie, I think Jasmine is right,” said Aero, Charles brother. Charles had been scouring the land around the bones He’d discovered an amazing valley. A stream echoed it’s touching of submerged rocks as it meandered through the valley just to the right side of where Charles had seen what he thought was an Indian chiefs headset. “It’s damn gorgeous around here don’t you think Jasmine?” “C’mon Charles let’s get out of here; it’s spooky. I don’t like it!” said Jasmine as she kicked a bone away from her path to Charles. “Stop it Jasmine! Were staying right here. Were going to build a family here! Who knows, in time, other people may decide to settle here. Over yonder is a stream and beyond that a forest. I reckon that food would be plentiful all we have to do is build a home.” “Charles, what about the children? They need schooling and there isn’t anything here except those… those damn bones. And, what do we do with them if we do stay? “I don’t want to fight with you Jasmine!” I say what we do, and we’re staying right here! “Charlie, don’t I have any say in this?” said Aero as he walked over to Charles. “I’m gonna have to live here too if we stay and how are we gonna survive? Jasmine is right! There isn’t anything here for us. “All of you stop complaining! Aero don’t get so upset! I’ve taken care of us from the old states to here and we’ve done fine haven’t we?” “Yeah… I guess so,” said Jasmine. Aero reluctantly agreed with both of them. “Then fine! We’re staying here! I want no more talk of this you here?” “Yeah… we hear,” said Aero as he walked away ashamed that he didn’t have the guts to stand up to his older brother.

“Hey pa, what’s this?” yelled Jared from a corner of the bone-covered valley. Charles walked over to Jared as he picked a small wooden handle device with a stone-carved sharp edge attached to one side of it. Charles knew the edge had been sharpened because in examining it he ran his finger over the edge, thereby creating a tiny gash in his flesh. “Damn Charles, what did you find?” About this time Aero arrived taking the device from Charles. “Well I’ll be damned… huh I’d never thought I’d see something like this,” exclaimed Aero. “What… what is it? You know what it is Aero?” asked Charles while trying to stop the blood running from the smooth cut the sharpened stone had made in his finger. “It’s a Tomahawk! I read about it in one of those dime novels you carry with you Charlie. It said that Indians use these to get scalps from white men. Guess that’s what it’s used for here… huh? Sure looks interesting. I wonder how they got this edge so sharp? “Give me that!” yelled Charles. “Yeah it does look well made. I doubt any Indians are gonna use this now, so I’ll keep it. I can use it to help cut and trim some of these bones.” “What?” said Jasmine as she ed Charles. “Oh… this… tomahawk, I’m gonna keep it to use to cut and trim those bones for our new house.” “Are you kidding Charles?” exclaimed Jasmine while she contemplated whether Charles was really serious about such a ridiculous idea. “No I’m not,” replied Charles. “I thought that these bones would be stronger than wood. And although there may not be enough of them to build a house, we could use what we could besides the rest of the house would be made of wood. That way we don’t have to cut a lot of trees. And you know I’m not good at cutting down trees.”

“Damn it! . . . Damn it… Charles Street! What kind of man are you? Using dead peoples bones to build our house… that’s… just crazy, and you know it!” “What else would you have me do Jasmine? We don’t have a lot of tools that can be used for cutting. We have one axe that isn’t in great shape. We need something sharp enough to cut down trees. This tomahawk looks pretty strong, at least strong enough to cut these bones. Then we can maybe use the tomahawk to sharpen the axe. That’s a lot easier than chopping a tree with a dull axe don’t you think?” “You’re not making any sense Charles! I don’t like it here! There’s something… something strange about this land, this valley. It gives me chills. “Don’t pay any mind to those chills. You’ve gotten them before and you’ll probably get them again. We are staying here and that’s it! No more discussion on that!” Jasmine stormed away from Charles, Jared and Aero running back to the wagon. Jared gave Charles a look reminiscent of disgust and frustration. Charles told Jared to go help his mother get things out of the wagon and arrange an area where they could camp for the night. Charles stood gazing at the tomahawk almost as if it held him in some kind of trance. This didn’t last long. His attention quickly turned toward a rustling in the woods nearby. Thoughts curved to that of food for dinner. Realizing that the tomahawk could also be used as a hunting implement, he set out to find sustenance for his family. Moments later he found himself surrounded by evergreen trees as well as the smell of a forest freshly cleaned from a recent rain. It smelt good plus for a short time he forgot about the rest of his family, their concern about him and their survival in this unforgiving land. Now, at this time, his thoughts were only of the beauty of the forest in addition to what it could provide in of food along with shelter. Soon afterward his walk had taken him to a brighter portion of the forest. Nothing he’d seen in his life compared to what he saw in this field. It spread out for about a mile and filled the air with abundant images of flowers and trees so large that the tops of them couldn’t been seen with the naked eye. Charles knew that this would be the place to build a home. But, he had a problem; he had walked so far into the woods that the sight of his family and the bones failed him. Nothing could be heard but the wind tumbling through the branches. Also nothing could be seen but this field, the trees, and flowers that had made their home here. Fear set in and he began to tremble. Something wet penetrated the

lining of his well-used boots. “The rain made the ground wet which meant it would hold fresh tracks, my tracks. All I have to do is follow my footprints back to Jasmine and the family. Why the hell didn’t I think of that before now— stupid!” Charles started his trek back through the woods into the valley where the bones of the dead would greet him. As he walked, stepping in the depressions that he’d made earlier, he felt bitter shivers through his body. Almost like someone threw needles or pins at him managing to penetrate his skin and bone, then exit out the back of his body. This made his walk less efficient as he stopped repeatedly to see if he could warm himself up by rubbing his hands up and down his arms and legs. That didn’t help. Next he thought that maybe running while trying not to lose track of his footprints might help. It wasn’t one of his better idea’s, it just made the shivers more prominent and icy. Charles stopped after walking including running about one hundred feet then sat on a large rock. He gazed around the forest and saw what appeared to be a white ranch house off to the right of his current position. From what he could see, which wasn’t a lot, the house seemed to be empty. It looked as though it were in fairly good shape. But, it wasn’t constructed of wood. “Huh… that’s interesting. Maybe we won’t have to build a house after all.” Charles stood up turned to face the house as he walked by tree after tree until he reached the structure. It was indeed a ranch house, although it had been abandoned for quite a while. But the site of the house close up seemed to elicit more fear in the easterner than seeing the valley of bones. Gingerly he walked up to within a foot or two of the north wall of the house and almost lost what little was left in his stomach. An odd white house stood in front of him. A white house made from bones, human bones. Shaking feverishly he stepped carefully to the front. The front door hung on by one hinge plus almost all of the windows were broken. And from the looks of it broken from the inside out. “That’s… that’s… odd,” said Charles while stumbling over rocks with loose wood from a nearby woodpile, as he walked around the house to see if anything else had been damaged. He turned the corner and discovered graves. He thought about digging up the graves to study the bones but wondered if whoever buried those people were here watching him. His curiosity got the better of him and he dug the dirt from the graves. He expected to find bones rotten with age instead he found skeletons that looked like they were recently buried. Brushing away some mud that stuck on the skeletons, he exposed just how bright they were. It was almost like someone had cleaned the bones before burying them.

That frightened him more than anything else. It meant that the people that died must have been killed or died somewhere else then the bones were brought here. He looked up around as best he could in the dim light and didn’t see or feel anyone nearby, so he kept examining his discovery. Charles could tell that two sets of bones were about the same in height, while two others were a good deal smaller. They hadn’t been developed as much as the others. One odd thing though, he discovered that the skulls of what he thought were the older skeletons weren’t attached to the rest of their skeletal remains. “Damn! What happened around here? First that valley of bones and now I find these bones of a family. Damn Sam what’s going on here?” Shivers came forth, cold and wet. While Charles walked back to the front of the house he stopped about ten feet from the front door in order to take a closer look at the north wall. His training at the Clarkston School of Anatomy in New York had paid off. He stared at the construction realizing that the second set of bones happened to be humeri or upper leg bones. The subordinate set of bones, consisted of the tibia and fibula, the lower leg bones. This ranch house, if constructed all the way to the roof with bones, would mean that maybe whoever killed those people wanted a house of souvenirs. Charles gazed down to the end of the wall amazed that someone could have done this in addition to making it work. He theorized that some gruesome minded people must have lived here. Charles marveled at how expertly the bones had been attached to each other with some kind of sticky substance and began to wonder how this feat could have been accomplished. He’d never heard or seen anything like this. His body, still quivering from the cold, resembled someone trying desperately to stay warm on a cold night. Even though is subconscious told him not to go in, he ventured inside the house to see if he could find out what happened to the family. Upon entering the house he smelt something putrid which turned his stomach into a quivering mass. He didn’t know what could be causing that stench but he wanted to find out. In looking around what appeared to be the living room Charles saw dolls on the floor including to a smattering of one doll’s head all over the multicolored throw rug opposite a warn dirty couch. There were glasses filled halfway on a table nearby. Charles went over, picked one up, sniffed it and dropped it on the scuffed wooden floor as he grabbed at his neck. He stumbled over to the couch and fell onto its soft dusty cushions. “Damn it! What the hell is that stuff?” he mumbled as he turned over facing toward the ceiling. Coughing with hacking seemed to be the norm for about a minute or so

then faded slowly away. Air, he needed air badly so he crawled to one of the broken windows, took a deep breath and fell to the floor trying to regain his composure. Charles stumbled and walked toward what he assumed was the bedroom. He’d seen what he thought would be a light from that room and wanted to see if anyone was there. Grabbing the doorknob he began to turn it—it wouldn’t budge. Knocking on the door didn’t help. No one answered. A sigh of relief came over Charles as he turned away from the door and walked to the other side (south side) of the house, as he did he noticed that the glasses were gone as shivers of fear took hold. Another closed door faced him only this time the putrid smell he’d encountered when he walked in grew stronger. He knew it came from beyond this door. As he reached down to turn the knob again he felt his mind returning to normal plus a small amount of strength. This time the door opened. Charles had discovered a corpse. It had been a woman around sixty years old Charles calculated that age based on her wrinkles and frail body. Charles began examining the body of the woman, even though her smell filled the room. He looked for gunshot or knife wounds or something that would for her being dead. After the examination he concluded that she must have died from fright. Her eyes were wide open with her hands outstretched above her, as if trying to stop whoever had attacked her. A loud crackling noise came from the roof. Charles was knocked back on his rump as the crackling became louder and the walls of the house started to shake. Pitter-patter on the roof echoed through the house. Now he knew that the noise was thunder with rain and started out of the bedroom toward the unused fireplace. He crawled into the fire bay of the fireplace and waited for the storm to . It appeared to be a big storm. The remainder of the windows began to shake and crack, leaving remnants on the wooden floor. Soon afterward the brunt of the storm hit. Charles was sure that at any time the walls and roof would come crashing down. Charles never liked thunderstorms or rain. His folks were killed in a tornado that touched down in Oklahoma when he was a young boy. Ever since then he’s been deathly afraid of thunder and rain. Shivering, cold with a large crack in the ceiling right above him, Charles started to feel the rain buffet him. It’s a good thing that no one was here; otherwise he would have to explain why he hid in a fireplace instead of running back to camp to be with his family. Eventually the storm disintegrated into a light rain barely visible by the human eye. Charles tenderly stepped out into a partially water-filled living room and looked up at the crack in the ceiling. “That’ll be my first job in this place, after we take care of that old lady and get her smell out of here,” he said as he stood up. Part of the ceiling besides the roof that fell down during the storm now

floated on the water as if being pushed or guided by an unseen hand. Charles kicked the materials out of his way as he walked back to the bedroom where the woman he’d discovered would surely be waiting for someone to take care of her. When the tormented man stepped into the bedroom again surprise took control of his face. The whole bedroom had been torn apart. The woman that he’d found earlier no longer inhabited the room—no trace of her. He frantically sorted through the wreckage trying to find anything or any part of the woman. His efforts were uneventful. “That’s downright impossible!” he shouted as he threw torn pieces of wood around the room. “She’s got to be here, she has to be!” After numerous trips including falls in the water that covered floor he finally gave up his search. With his pants torn and his ego diminished, Charles walked back toward the front door, which kept slamming against the side of the doorframe. He pushed the door aside allowing him to walk out onto the wooden porch. The porch had been pummeled by the storm. Very few boards were left. Just enough so that he could jump from board to board to get to the side of the house. After that he’d have to take a small jump onto the ground below. Before he made his first jump to another board a strange sense came over him, something like when you know someone’s behind you before they say or do anything. He quickly turned around and found nothing. “Hell! What in tarnation is going on here?” No matter how much he fought the feeling it still persisted. It drove him back to the bedroom where what he couldn’t find before floated aimlessly in front of him. Things were markedly different. The dead woman came back, well at least part of her. Charles saw a partially skin covered vertebral column plus skin enveloped the lower portion of a skull, her skull, that lay floating in the water nearby. There were sharp cuts in the skull. The kind of cuts one would see if an Indian had scalped the woman as she resisted that act of terror. As he examined the rest of the woman’s body parts he heard what sounded like a shelf collapsing onto the floor. He turned to the sound noticing another skull, but not a human skull. Charles quirkily walked over to the skull. After examining it thoroughly he surmised that it must be a dog’s skull. However, if that were the case, this dog had been dead for quite a while—no skin was on the skull plus it had been cleaned. Now Charles wanted to examine the rest of the dog’s skeletal remains for any evidence that it might have died before its time but couldn’t find any other bones. A severe chill traveled through his body as he realized that the sun had crept lower in the sky soon darkness would cover everything. He knew that

Jasmine and the rest of the family, if they hadn’t already, would be looking for him and he didn’t want them to find him in what’s left of this room studying bones of a dead woman along with a dead dog. Jasmine thought Charles wasted his time studying the human body with the classes he’d taken in medical science at the school. She never really thought that he had the intelligence or aptitude to become a doctor. They had many a fight over just what Charles should do with his life. This trip to the west originally had been Jasmine’s idea. The only way she got Charles to make the trip is to get Aero to come along with them. Charles always got along fairly well with Aero, but the two brothers did have their disagreements and lately Charles had been thinking that Aero was a little more interested in Jasmine than just as a friend. But now he’ll probably have both of them looking for him. He didn’t want that, he wanted to control the situation. Charles got up, hid all the bones, as best he could, in a chest-of-drawers that sat in the living room and headed out of the house again—this time no feeling of another presence invited itself into his conscious. While jumping from board to board to get off the porch he wondered why he hid the bones. No one would think that he did something to them-in fact no one would know he had been here. What would happen if he’d just left them where he found them? He thought for a minute or two as he jumped onto the cold ground near the edge of the house then realized that if Jasmine had seen those bones the first thing she would have thought would be that he had spent all this time looking at them instead of helping his family get settled-she would not be happy. About this time a subdued rustling cracking noise came from behind the house. Not knowing this area and after having gone through seeing the dead woman’s bones plus the skull of the dog Charles debated going behind the house to investigate. The bones behind the house somehow beckoned to Charles. There is an old saying, “Curiosity killed the cat.” Charles wondered if that fate would lie in wait for him. Cracking and rustling continued but seemed to get louder even though Charles hadn’t moved from his spot. The woods that surrounded the house seemed more ominous soon all that would be visible would be the trees closest to the house then Charles would have to spend the night here. A thought he didn’t want to consider. Trying to find his way back in a pitch black forest is not something that evoked joyful emotions. Chills and apprehension filled his soul as his conscious mind debated which path to take: investigating the noises or heading back to his family. Now his family had become more important to him than his present task. The woods were quiet, aside from the noises that shook him. There were no birds, no sounds of wind roaming through the branches of the trees moreover no sounds of water. “Oh

Shit! Now what have I gotten myself into?” he said as he walked, quietly as he could, toward the rear of the house. His rotund body might make more noise as he walked, and his weight, being that of someone not used to work and of a person who heartedly enjoyed food, may hamper his fighting abilities, but curiosity pushed him forward. His hands were shaking beyond control as he looked for any kind of weapon he could use to thwart whatever made those noises. Moonlight allowed some things to be visible, but not much, the moon hadn’t fully awakened and only part of her became visible, but only if one looked very long and hard at the sky. Crackle, crackle echoed through his ears as he approached the location. Sounds had been emanating from the harrowed sky but luckily Charles happened to see a pile of chopped wood. He waddled over and fell to his knees. Bending over isn’t as easy as it should have been so he depended on his knees as a strut to him while grabbing a piece of wood he could carry easily, hoping all the while that if there were somebody behind the house that he didn’t startle them. But most of all that they or if it were just one person he or she didn’t have a gun and decide to use it on him. Slowly he crept up alongside the boney house hoping that he’d be able to see whoever was back there before they saw him. His wishes didn’t come to fruition. Just as he was about to peek around the corner of the house he stepped on a twig thereby announcing his presence loud and clear. “Shit! Damn it!” he said softly under his breath. Now he had to act fast, just in case… well just in case. Turning the corner nothing notable appeared other than the skeleton’s he’d found earlier. This time though he knew where the noises were coming from. It was hard to see, but on a hill just opposite the house sat a shed. A few branches from a nearby tree were brushing up against the door. Again Charles’ conscious began talking to him as his curiosity escalated. “Do I go up there and see what’s in that shed, or do I leave well enough alone and head back to Jasmine and the others?” Curiosity won. He headed up the hill as the night turned to a shade of darkness almost completely void of anything resembling color. Treading clumsily up the hill, he reached the front door of the shed. Charles sat down near some pieces of wood stacked next to the front door to essentially catch the small gasps of air that shot in and out of his throat. Even though the hill wasn’t steep, it was just a little too steep for him. He quickly bent the branches downward that had been making the noises and pulled at the door. It creaked and moaned as a woman of the night might when she’d experienced a pleasurable encounter with one of her gents. Finally after what seemed like the struggle to end all struggles, the door opened as Charles caught a glimpse of something shiny and large to the right

side of the shed. He looked around and happened to find a lamp plus matches nearby that had been saved from the wet weather by the wood housing of the shed. He fumbled at lighting the lamp eventually succeeding. The rotund figure turned back around and saw the thing that had shone so brightly a few seconds earlier. Charles almost fell backwards at the sight of it. He walked gingerly toward it. A marvelous vehicle stood in front of him, shiny black with windows all around. There were two lamps, one on each side of where the driver sat. He moved the lamp he’d found downward. The light from the lamp revealed four wheels, two smaller ones in front, and two that were double the size of the front wheels in the back. Charles swung the lamp he held toward the glass panes that surrounded the back half of what appeared to be a horse drawn carriage. “Amazing! Absolutely amazing!” he said, as he walked around the carriage as best he could without knocking over bunches of hay on the ground. “I never thought I’d actually see one out here. We’ve got a lot of these in New York, but they are much fancier only the rich can afford to have their last trip in one. No ordinary person could afford such luxury, but here one sits. Obviously used by the common folk around here to carry their loved one’s to their final resting place. Wait, what’s this?” Charles rubbed off some dust off the bottom of the carriage and read what had been painted on the frame, “Johnson and son Undertakers.” “This is so fantastic! No one would believe that I actually saw a hearse common folk of this area use—and it looks like it’s in apple pie order!” As Charles examined his newly found treasure he heard more noises coming from just outside the shed. This time he knew it had to be the sound of footprints and someone either listening to him or watching him. A small breeze from Charles’ mouth blew out the lamp. He hid at the horse end of the hearse and waited for whomever it was to come inside. Patience wasn’t a virtue that Charles had developed yet and didn’t have to wait long to see who made the noise. The front door creaked and rattled as it opened. Charles couldn’t see anything more than an outline of a figure, but it clearly identified what type of person this was. “An Indian—damn it!” said Charles, under his breath. The silhouette of a headdress and what looked like a tomahawk in his hand also by the smell, led Charles to believe an Indian walked in. It smelled as though this Indian hadn’t had a good bath in weeks. But Charles shouldn’t judge him he himself didn’t smell all that great either. The shadowy figure walked over to the left side of the shed up the left wall to opposite Charles. A sound of someone sniffing perked his ears. “Could that Indian smell me? That’s impossible,” he thought, until he pulled part of his shirt up to his nose. “Whew! I think I need a bath more than that Indian!” said Charles as he moved toward the rear of the coach.

Charles didn’t want to fight an Indian, especially since he was out-of-shape knowing full well that an Indian could take him easily then all that’d be left of him was his scalped, dead body He wasn’t ready to die, not now or anytime in the near future. The front door hung close by but the sound of that door opening would be deadly if he tried to open it. Time went quickly. Getting away from that Indian had to be a priority right now. The shadowy figure walked along the back wall, sometimes disappearing in the darkness as what little moonlight shown down from above came seeping through the gaps between the wooden sides of the shed. The Indian now stood in front of the hearse, Charles heard him run into it as he tried to maneuver through the half-moonlit shed. If Charles could understand the Indian language he was sure he would have heard him say something like, “Oh… Shit!” But deciphering the figure’s language would have to be something left to someone else. Right now, escape took over Charles thoughts as well as actions. There was only one way to get out of the shed, through the front door, but the Indian came closer, much closer. Charles could smell him as he approached, and knew that if he could smell him, the Indian could smell Charles. Moonlight seemed to follow the Indian as if it were his shadow. Now the Indian stood about ten feet away. Something had to be done and quick, or the next thing he’d feel would be his head being pulled back then his hair being chopped off along with part of his skin. Shivers of fear slipped down through Charles body as he gained the strength to move. How fast he could move plus how quickly he could make himself invisible to the figure stalking him depended on how much noise he made, especially when he tried to open the door. It had to be done or he’d be dead in a matter of minutes, maybe seconds as the smell of the Indian became stronger the closer he got to Charles. Then, just as Charles was about to make his move the Indian stopped as if frozen by fear. It appeared to Charles that he was somehow turned off, if indeed that were possible. “Now’s my chance,” thought Charles as he sloppily got to his feet running as fast as he could toward the front door. He tried unlatching it; apparently the Indian had latched it behind him when he came in. Charles easily slides the wooden bar to one side and looked back at the black figure—it hadn’t moved. He started to push the door, but it wouldn’t open. Charles tried it again more violently this time, still nothing happened. Then it donned on him, something must be blocking the door on the outside. Before Charles had time to guess as to what besides how that could have happened he felt his hair being cut as a breeze ruffled past his head. Charles turned around feeling something warm easing down from the top of his head: first small droplets would shuffle down his forehead, over his nose and mouth and hang onto his chin as a mountain

climber might do if he found himself hanging on the edge of a rock faced precipice. Seconds later came a gushing of fluid from his head, over his forehead, eyes, nose and mouth, just as Charles felt a stinging sensation in his chest plus that same warm fluid run out of the wound. He looked down gazing at a tomahawk blade partially impaled in his chest, with the handle still wiggling as Charles dropped to the hay-covered floor. Footsteps came from behind him. The Indian came around to the front of Charles, bent down and said, “You will be cursed through eternity for disturbing those bones. This is Indian land and you desecrated it.” The Indian got up and dissolved into the air, as Charles began to close his eyes for the last time. Night continued to grow while Charles body began to drop in temperature as the coldness of the mountain air traveled through him. An hour later the front door to the shed opened. Four Indians came in and walked over to Charles. One of them went to the hearse and opened the back door, then went back to help the other three load Charles into the wooden body carriage. After they completed their task they started a fire about four feet away from the coach formed a circle around it as they chanted. This went on for forty-five minutes until the walls of the shed began to shake. Immediately after that an image began to appear on the seat of the coach. The horses appeared if by magic. They were alive and well, but were also transparent. In addition to the horses, the driver of the coach seemed to be very much alive and transparent. He looked at the Indians as if to say, “Where to” as the Indians chanted in unison. Soon afterward the driver gave the horses the command to move. Slowly the hearse began moving disappearing through the back wall of the shed as smooth as a knife through butter. The Indian’s stopped chanting, put out the fire and walked out of the shed, just as the hearse reappeared exactly as Charles had found it, ready and waiting for it’s next enger to arrive.

Chapter 2

Bonestown History, Jasmine and Aero

“Charles!” shouted Jasmine, as she and Aero started walking through the forest at the point where she thought she saw Charles enter. A few minutes later they found themselves near a stream. The sound of water running over rocks was unmistakable. “Charlie where the hell are you?” shouted Aero, while he helped Jasmine to the stream. Aero had brought a lantern, lit before they entered the forest, so knowing where to guide Jasmine was as easy as could be expected under the circumstances. “Damn it! Aero, where is Charles? This isn’t like him! He doesn’t just run off and not tell me where he’s going! Ah… and these damn shoes aren’t made for walking over rocks in a river bed.” “Watch those rocks.” said Aero, as if asking for the check at the local dry goods store. “Huh… no problem Aero, the last thing I need is to fall in this creek and mess up these pants. There the only ones I have left. If these get torn I’ll have to start wearing one of the dresses I packed away that won’t do… not at all!” “Don’t worry Jasmine, you’ll do fine. Were almost across. It won’t be long before we find Charlie and all will be good with the world again… you’ll see… it’ll be bright as a trivet… just you wait.” “I hope so Aero. I don’t like it here. I’m sure any minute we’ll be attacked by Indians and you’ll be scalped, and me… heavens knows what they’ll do to me. You know a white woman in Indian country. My lord the possibilities are frightening!” “Nothing to worry about Jasmine I have Jenibell here with me, she’ll take care of any trouble we may have.” As he said these words he pulled out a pearl-

handled gun from his holster and brought it into Jasmine’s field of view. “That’s fine for you Aero, but what happens if you get killed before you have time to use Jenibell, what happens to me?” “Don’t worry Jasmine, look were past the river and coming upon a clearing. I’m sure Charlie is somewhere around here.” “And what about our children?” asked Jasmine, in a voice reminiscent of a child asking why she couldn’t cross the street. “I didn’t want to leave them back there in the wagon. I certainly didn’t want them to come with us. My Lord what if something happens to them while we’re gone. I’d never forgive myself. Maybe we should head back. I don’t like being this far away from them.” “Like I said Jasmine, don’t worry. Look the sun is about to rise. Before you know it we’ll be able to find Charlie, and the three of us will be back at the wagon in no time. Like I said, you’ll see… you’ll see… just trust me… I’ll get all of us out of here safe and sound… no problem at all.” “I hope your right. I just want our family together. And believe you me when I find Charles I’m going to tell him off so much that he won’t be able to talk to me for months!” “That’s it Jasmine. Think of Charlie and being together again. It will happen.” The morning sun had risen just above the horizon line and Jasmine and Aero could feel its warmth as though they were sitting in front of a fireplace on a cold winter night. They walked into the clearing that Charles had seen before. Both had a strange feeling, but couldn’t figure out which direction to take. “Do you feel that?” asked Jasmine. “Yes… it feels like Charlie is here somewhere, but that’s not right. How could that be, when we can’t see him?” said Aero “I don’t know, but its almost as though he’s touching me somehow, like he were standing right here beside me… I feel his presence… it’s very strong. Am I imagining this? “Strange things can happen in the woods. I think we should head back, maybe

Charlie is back at the wagon by now.” “We can’t just leave… we haven’t found him and I know he’s here… I know it!” “He may be Jasmine, but with the new day starting along with your kids back in the wagon, you never know what might happen. we saw what looked like something the Indians left behind in the bone yard. Those Indians are still around here somewhere Maybe… God forbid… they’ll come back here. I wouldn’t want to be away from shelter stuck out here if they should come back.” “I know you’re right Aero, but we need to find out what happened to Charles! I can’t go back and face the children without being able to tell them that we found their father. After all, I did tell them that we were going to get him and that we’d be back soon. And I thought you wanted to find Charles just as much as I do.” Aero thought about what Jasmine said as he looked at the clearing and then turned around toward the woods that they’d come from. “But Jasmine,’ he asked, “I know I told you that we should leave, but can you leave without knowing what happened to Charlie? He could be hurt and need help. I don’t really want to stay around this place any longer than I have to, but all-in-all he still is my brother and I’m willing to take a chance and spend some time looking for him… not much time… but we should at least try some more… don’t you think?” Before Jasmine could answer she heard something coming from the woods across the clearing. It sounded familiar. “Did you hear that?” she asked. “Hear what?” “Horses… I think it’s horses… a lot of horses coming from over there.” She pointed across the field at a lightly wooded area where both Aero and Jasmine could see movement. It wasn’t clear what was moving, only that something big had stirred the quietness of the morning and that the trees had objected to its movement by swaying their branches in an effort to announce to the world that someone or something had entered their realm.

“Damn it! Jasmine… I knew it!” shouted Aero, as he turned and pulled Jasmine with him back toward the woods. “What are you doing Aero? What’s wrong with you?” “I told you I thought the Indians were still here-there’s you’re proof.” He pointed back to the clearing while they both stopped just short of the wooded area gazing upon approximately fifteen to twenty Indians coming out of the opposite side of the forest galloping at a steady, fast pace toward them, screaming and yelling so loud that both Jasmine and Aero shivered with fear. They turned to each other with a look of eminent death on their faces. Aero dropped the lantern into a mudfilled puddle. They ran as fast as they could into the forest. “You think we can outrun them?” asked Jasmine, between gasping for a new breath of cold, damp air. “Hell, I don’t know, but they have horses. I’m sure they know these woods very well. We’d better find a place to hide.” They ran quickly although the morning sun rose higher in the sky, the wind picked up speed, and they came upon a bright light to their right. Aero pulled Jasmine to a stop, looked behind him for the Indians, then looked toward the glow. It was the house that Charles had seen the night before, only in daylight the white bones that made the walls of the house shown like a beacon in a lighthouse beckoning wayward mariners home. “What is that?” asked Jasmine. “I don’t know exactly, but it looks like a house. I’m sure it’s a better place to hide than between these trees. C’mon, let’s get over there before those Indians realize where we’ve gone.” Aero grabbed Jasmine’s arm so hard she screamed. Aero deftly covered her mouth and softly apologized. The two ran faster toward the house, jumping over puddles and rocks trying hard not to leave footprints that were recognizable. Just as the two made it into the house and peered out a jagged window, the Indians came through the tree line stopping just about twenty feet away from the house. Their horses began to jump and stagger back toward the trees as the Indians tried to control them. Soon, all the horses were gone and the Indians lay on the wet ground trying to compose themselves. When they regained their composure something odd happened. The Indians started to shake uncontrollably. They stumbled back to the tree line where their bodies returned to normal. One Indian,

apparently the leader ventured out again from the tree line and as before, started shaking violently. He fell to the ground scrambling back to the other Indians. They all stood and gazed at the house, then without saying a word disappeared into the woods. “What do you make of that Aero?” asked Jasmine, in addition to adjusting her position to see well. “I don’t know… something must have scared them.” Aero turned around noticing that one side of one bedroom had been disturbed by the storm. “Look Jasmine… there… that whole side of the house is torn apart. Maybe that storm did that. I think I should investigate.” “Oh… no you don’t! You’re not leaving me here. If you’re going to investigate I’m going with you.” They walked gingerly over boards that were floating in the one foot layer of water that covered the living room trying not to step on any loose or ripped boards that may lie beneath the top edge of the water. Jasmine stumbled a few times as did Aero but both made it to the opening where once hung a door to the bedroom. From the time that Charles had left that room and the time that Aero and Jasmine discovered it, the room had been ransacked. What remained consisted of a myriad of wood, torn clothes, bones plus a lot of bones floating aimlessly on the water. “This is remarkable!” exclaimed Jasmine. “Was this all done by a storm?” “Can’t tell… if it was, where did all these bones come from?” “Aero, let’s get out of here… something isn’t right with this place. I’m worried about Charles and the children… we need to find him and get back to the wagon. The kids are probably scared to death. I never should have left them there!” “The kids are fine Jasmine!” “How do you know that? What are you some kind of fortune teller?” “Of course not… I can’t explain it, I just know they are fine… I know it as sure as the sun will shine tomorrow… I know it!” Aero could see the fear in Jasmine’s eyes, besides her shivering could mean that she is cold or sacred or both. It was cold in the house, but he thought that the shivering could have been because she was afraid for herself, Charles and the children. “Alright… let’s see if Charlie has been here. Who knows, maybe… maybe he left something behind that might give us a hint as to where he’s gone

off to… that okay with you? “Yes… but let’s do it fast, I want to get back to the children. I’ve had enough excitement to last for a month.” Aero grabbed Jasmine softly by the arm. The two slowly walked out of the house. They turned the corner and marveled at the bones that made up the wall of the house. “What… what the hell are those things? You don’t suppose their… their… “Human bones?” asked Jasmine. She began to shake even more as thoughts that someone could have made a house out of human bones slipped into her mind. “Ah… yes, I guess so, but why? Why would someone do that?” “Hey Aero, this place is strange! We found that valley of bones and now this house made of bones… huh… what next, a wagon made of bones?” Aero and Jasmine looked at each other and began to laugh. “A wagon made of bones?” C’mon Jasmine a house made of bones is one thing, but a wagon… that’s ridiculous!” Jasmine couldn’t stop laughing. It wasn’t that the prospect of such a wagon was that funny, but that she was extremely dragged out. The thought of a wagon like that just tickled her so much that she had to laugh. Both of them fell down beside the bone-studded wall landing quite hard on the ground. “Oh… shit! Yelled Jasmine. “Now my jeans are ruined and my blouse is torn! I’m gonna have to break out the dresses! Damn it! I didn’t want to do that! “Don’t worry about that Jasmine, we’ve got more important things to think about, like finding Charlie moreover getting back to your children.” “Yeah, I you’re right. Let’s get a wiggle on and see what we can find.” Jasmine started to head away from the house when she heard a sound coming from behind the house. “What?, she asked hesitantly, “What is that? Did you hear that Aero?” “I heard something, I don’t know what, but I did hear something.” Jasmine bolted toward the back yelling, “Its Charles! It has to be, its Charles!” “Wait,” yelled Aero, but she’d already sprinted off toward the end of the wall

and would be rounding the corner any minute. “Damn woman!” said Aero, under his breath as he got up to run after her. Aero saw Jasmine disappear behind the wall just as he approached the corner. He couldn’t stop quickly enough running into Jasmine as she stood there gazing at the partially covered graves that Charles had unearthed earlier. The two of them fell onto the ground as Jasmine looked toward Aero. Aero could tell that fear had taken her soul. “Aero, you… you… think one of those graves could be Charles’s?” Aero gently helped up Jasmine. Both of them walked to the half-empty, bone occupied holes. Aero bent down scrutinizing the first set of bones then the next set. “Jasmine you don’t have to worry, these graves and the bones aren’t Charlie’s. When we were young we played with some guns. I accidentally shot Charlie in the leg. The bullet went through his leg into the field behind us. The doc said that the bullet grazed the bone, so I’m sure I’d have seen a knick in his leg bone, if one of these bones was his. And the other two graves are smaller that Charlie, possibly graves of children, so those wouldn’t be Charlie’s.” “You sure Aero, you absolutely sure about that?” “No question Jasmine, these are not Charlie’s bones. That means we still have to find him.” The sun had moved and now hung overhead, as its rays had started to heat up the area. Nothing really strong, but hot enough to let Jasmine and Aero know that the day moved forward quickly and presently night would again take the reigns making the trip back to camp more dangerous, especially since neither Aero or Jasmine had seen the Indians that had plagued them earlier. That didn’t sit well with Aero. He knew they had to be around here but didn’t want to upset Jasmine any more than he had to. “C’mon Jasmine let’s leave these bones and keep looking for Charlie. He’s got to be here. He couldn’t just disappear into thin air… that’s impossible.” “Yeah, that’s fine with me. The less I see of these bones the better.” Aero walked ahead feeling cold shivers through him. “Ah… what the?” “What is it?” asked Jasmine running to him. “It’s strange… I felt as though I’d just fallen into a cold river, then walked out with a feeling like someone was jabbing me with needles and second later it stopped.” “You must be getting too cold. That’s what I feel like when I get too cold. We need to get back to the children before anything else happens. I’m getting more worried by the minute.” But Jasmine its not that cold out here so why should I be cold?’ “Never mind Aero, it’s probably just you getting tired. Let’s find Charles and get the hell out of here!” Aero reluctantly agreed then started back to the front of the house when a bright glint of something caught his eye. “What’s that?” he asked as he

raised his hand above his eyes. Jasmine peered into the forest acknowledging the shed. From her point of view it looked more like a few shiny pieces of metal, but she could make out the shape of a small building. “I’ve got it!” she yelled as she struggled climbing up the small incline to the shed. “That’s were Charles is! I know it! I know we’ll find him there!” She began calling for Charles while Aero tried to keep up with her. He’d never seen her climb this fast over rough terrain. It took all his energy to keep her in sight. The last thing he wanted was to loose her as well as Charles. He thought about yelling at her to slow down, but by now she’d reached the door to the shed trying valiantly to open it. Finally Aero caught up to her. “This Damn door is stuck! See if you can get it open.” Aero looked at her with frustration grudgingly agreeing. He pulled, once, twice, on the third pull he fell backward, but the door wouldn’t budge. Jasmine motioned for him to help her with the door after several unsuccessful attempts the door swung open though hay flew out at them as if trying to attach its strands to their faces. “Ick… plewey! yelled Jasmine, “This stuff stinks!” Aero replied, “Yeah… by the smell of it it’s probably been in this shed for years.” They shoved away the hay that had accumulated on their bodies and at their feet proceeding to walk inside the shed. By now the afternoon sun had slipped through the slats between the wood walls as it bathed the shed in an eerie shadow. “My word Aero, look at that hearse! It must be at least ten years old. Look at all that dust!” “I see it, but look at the hay in front of it. It looks like its been driven recently. There are wheel tracks going over to that wall. But how could dust be on a hearse when it’s been driven recently? That’s impossible!” “Aero, I’m beginning to feel that in this place anything is possible!” Aero started toward the hearse when he tripped falling on the foul-smelling old hay that covered the floor of the shed. “Damn it! What now?” He looked down at his foot and discovered that it had been cut and by the slight ray of sun that landed on the sharp edge of the instrument that Aero fell on he could see that it was an old tomahawk. “Wow a Tomahawk? I wonder how many Indians have had it before me. Shit! Now I have to bandage my foot! Damn Tomahawk! Jasmine had walked toward Aero when she heard him fall but stopped short of him to bend down and look at a gold ring that laid on a bale of hay. Aero, tore

off a piece of his shirt to wrap his wound, then crawled over to her asking, “What is it? What do you have there?” Jasmine turned to Aero with tears crawling out of her eyes and skiing down her face and then jumping onto the hay floor. “This… this is Charles wedding ring, but… it’s… its… got blood on it.” “What?” asked Aero, while he stumbled to stand, “Let me see.” Jasmine stood up and gave the ring to Aero. He took his finger, felt the dried liquid, then licked his finger and swiped it across the substance on the ring, then put his finger in his mouth. “You’re right, that’s blood alright. “Oh… Aero… Charles can’t be dead… he just can’t!” Her face now covered with tears. This time Aero knew it wasn’t because she was cold. He put his arms around her and held her close. She wept constantly. Finally Aero said, “We don’t know that Charlie is dead. He just could have been hurt. Maybe he’s off somewhere trying to find a safe place to mend his wound. That’s it! It has to be! Who knows he might have run into those same Indians we did and fought with them eventually escaping… you never know what could have happened.” “Do you really believe that?” asked Jasmine wiping some tears away and looking up and into Aero’s eyes. “Jasmine, I don’t know anything for sure, but we can’t assume he’s dead. If we do that and go back to camp, he might be out in these woods fighting for his life. If we don’t search everywhere then we’ll always wonder if indeed he was alive and we didn’t search enough and lone enough to find him.” “You’re a good brother Aero.” Jasmine needed someone and Aero was it. She began to hold Aero closer. She felt stronger than she had ever felt before, and knew deep down inside, despite what Aero had said that Charles would not be found alive. She didn’t like these thoughts. She loved Charles, but knew that she could not survive out here without a man’s love and security. Charles is dead, she thought. Now her thoughts turned toward Aero. She didn’t want to believe that this had happened but deep down inside her soul she needed to be with someone that would take care of her and her children. She couldn’t do it alone, especially in the wilderness with Indians in this area. She gave Aero a tight squeeze then stepped back, but couldn’t stop thinking about Charles. She had to try again to find him. “Aero, we need to get going. Maybe Charles is alive, and I hope beyond hope

that he is, but we aren’t doing him any good just standing here.” Aero agreed with her securing Jasmine’s hand while the two of them walked out of the shed back down the hill. “Where do you suggest we look?” asked Jasmine, while looking over at the graves. “I think maybe we should head back toward camp. If Charlie is alive, and I believe he is, he’d try to get back to camp. Don’t you think that would be the right direction to go?” “What about those Indians?” “We haven’t seen them in quite a while, they’re probably back at their camp. Besides, look at the sky, it’ll be dark soon. It looks like we may be in for another storm. I wouldn’t want to have to tread through a rain soaked forest while looking for Charlie. That would be very hard, and you’ve gone through a lot and so have I, not to mention this cut I have on my leg.” “When did that happen?” “Oh… I tripped over… over a tomahawk in the shed. It happened when you were looking at the ring. I guess you didn’t see it.” “Are you sure you’re okay? You found a Tomahawk? Where is it? Can I see it? I’ve never seen a Tomahawk before, is it old and crusty or is it new and shiny?” “I’m fine. I’ve had worse than this. I threw the Tomahawk somewhere over there, but we don’t have time to stop and look for it, we’ve got to find Charlie— right?” C’mon let’s get away from this house. I think your fears about this place are contagious. Now I want to be as far away from this house and those bones as possible.” The two souls start their journey back to camp all the while looking for any signs of Charles or any tracks that may lead them to him. They’d traveled about a mile or so when they heard the blaring crackle of thunder in the distance. It shook both of them to the core. The rain poured down upon them as visibility became

worse. “We’d better be close to camp, or we’ll have to find shelter for the night,” said Aero, as he stepped into a large puddle of stagnant water almost falling head first into a small collection of rocks that lay just ahead. Rain kept beating on them faster and faster, now they were lucky if they could see two feet ahead. “Damn! Were never going to get out of this!” said Jasmine as she struggled to see. “I know, we’d better find camp soon or we’ll have to dig in for the night here, and we don’t want that.” “Wait… stop.” Yelled Jasmine, “I can’t go any farther or I’ll drop.” “Ah… okay, I’ll see if there is somewhere we can take shelter around here.” Aero tried to look through the muck that faced him but couldn’t see much of anything. By chance he happened to see the outline of an entrance to a mine. “Jasmine over here… come here!” To be sure she saw him he yelled and waved his hands. Jasmine looked through the slowly twirling misty rain and saw Aero. She ran toward him as the rain lessened in strength. “I found a place we could stay and be safe from the rain.” “See over there it looks like a mine, we could stay there for the night or until this storm lets up.” “Good, lets get out of this rain!” They walked slowly making sure each step wasn’t going to lead them into more trouble. Eventually they found their way inside the entrance to the mine. “Whew! What a storm,” said Jasmine as she tried to shake the rain out of her hair. “I’m soaked! I need to get these clothes dry.” “Don’t worry Jasmine. I’ll see if there’s some wood in here that we could start a fire with, that would help dry your clothes. Aero headed off into the mineshaft. He’d long since left the lantern in the forest and would have to try and see in the dark, not an easy task. Quickly his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the shaft and was able to see outlines of images. He had just enough vision to make his way down the shaft until he saw a wall of rocks. Apparently, there had been a cave in. The rest of the shaft had been blocked. He looked down not being able to see much, so he felt along the muddy ground eventually finding what seemed to be a

couple of short timbers. By feeling the timbers he realized that they were for the most part dry. Turning around he walked back toward the opening of the shaft. As he approached the opening he saw something that shocked him forcing him to drop the timbers. Jasmine had taken some old clothes lying on the floor and covered her head, then bent down to ring out some more water from her hair. The effect, from a distance, looked like she’d been beheaded. Aero ran over to her and as he got closer realized what she’d done. “You scared me to death Jasmine, I thought your head had been chopped off.?” “Ick Aero! I think you’ve been out in the rain too much. “Huh, maybe so Jasmine, maybe so.” Aero did get the fire going by rubbing sticks together and he and Jasmine began to fill the warmth of the fire fill their soul. Soon they were both asleep as thunder pounded the sky overhead. The forest after a rain has an amazing scent. It’s as though the Lord cleaned the forest and the air is his breath and remains to let everyone now how beautiful this forest is while it beckons people to enjoy what he has created. Bright and strong as a renewed fighter after a good rest, the sun rose lighting up everything its rays touched. Aero woke up first while Jasmine lay next to him. He gently brushed her hair away from her face and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. She gradually awoke looking into Aero’s eyes. “That was great that you were able to find those timbers and get that fire going.” “Yes,” Jasmine… it was… but we took a chance last night, being so close to the front of his shaft. Those Indians could have spotted us.” Jasmine sat up, while brushing off some mud that had accumulated on her body. “C’mon Aero, let’s get out of here and back to camp. I’m still worried about Jared and Kamile, they’ve got to be going crazy with fear by now.” They headed out of the mineshaft. After getting their bearings headed back to camp. The two were walking for about an hour when they saw the tree line and glimpses of the clearing that held all the bones.

“Aero look! Were almost home! We made it! Jasmine heard something pierce the still of the morning behind her, she turned and saw Aero fall to his knees with a look of surprise and horror on his face as he clutched his chest. A second later he looked at Jasmine trying to say something then fell face down in the muddy earth. Jasmine saw the reason for his pain and anguish, a long wooded handle with a metal head, covered partially in blood, revealed the image of a tomahawk that had stuck Aero’s back. Jasmine started to walk to Aero then heard the Indians screaming and footsteps getting louder. She turned around running as fast as her feet would take her out of the woods toward the wagon. Jasmine bolted around the back of the wagon and found her children sound asleep. Relief and fear took over. Turning toward the forest as she ran to the front of the wagon images of Indians came closer. Her boots kept slipping on the wet step of the wagon, Ultimately she managed to climb aboard taking the rains of the horses yelling, “Giddy up.” Maneuvering the wagon around she headed back into the forest—exactly in line with the images she’d seen a few seconds earlier. They were becoming more visible her fear had escalated beyond belief. She had to get her children to safety-that was her goal. Jasmine found the strength she needed and kept saying to herself, “You’re not getting my kids or me—you’re not! Not ever!” The Indians didn’t expect to see a wagon going full force toward them so they scattered. Fortunately for Jasmine, the leader wasn’t as wise and stood in front of the wagon with his bow and arrow pointed directly at Jasmine. Now she had to decide on whether to run that Indian over or turn the wagon just before she thought he would fire. Jasmine didn’t have a lot of time to think. Thoughts of her children being hurt or captured twirled in her mind. If she swung the wagon around her children might fall out and the wagon may tip over, then her entire family would be targets. Jasmine looked around for a weapon to use, anything that might work. She found a small knife used for skinning animals bouncing around on the seat. She watched the Indian while reaching for the knife. Grabbed it and threw it with all her might at the Indian. Jasmine wasn’t good at archery so the chances of her hitting the Indian were one in a million, but luck traveled with her that day. The knife struck the Indian just as he released the arrow from his grasp. The Indian went down with a thud. The arrow just grazed Jasmine’s head as it traveled into the cloth of the wagon’s cover. Jasmine kept the wagon going as long as she could, which wasn’t easy. The path that she was traveling wasn’t made for wagons or horses. Soon the path would end and she’d have to stop, a thought that didn’t set well with her.

Jasmine kept looking around for the Indians, but didn’t see any of them. She heard them all around her but couldn’t see anything but trees and the wild greenery and bushes that grew at the bottom of those trees. Wind had started to whip through the forest and loose twigs fluttered in the sky flying past her head as though a God himself were throwing them at her and the wagon trying to stop them from further travel. Shortly thereafter Jasmine found herself heading for the bone house that she and Aero found earlier. Her eyes became wet ing the last vision of Aero. “Whoa Kentucky and Brownback,” she said, pulling hard on the reins to stop the horses in front of the house. She listened for a short moment to see if she could hear the Indians. She did, but only a muffled sound. It kept getting less and less discernable as time ed. Tying the reins to the seat rail, she jumped down from the seat and ran back to check on Jared and Kamile. Jared was fine, but Kamile had a small cut on her head no doubt from the bumpy ride her mother had given her. What amazed Jasmine was that the cloth-covered top of the wagon was covered with arrows. Some arrows had landed inside the wagon inches from her children sticking into bags of flour and sugar as if they were meant to be there. “C’mon children get out of this wagon into that house,” she said while helping Kamile and Jared down. “Jared, you grab some of those bags and take them inside, I’ll tend to your sister, and be careful, those Indians might still be around here. You see or find anything strange, you come and get me okay?” “Yeah mom… but what happened? Where’s dad? How come Aero didn’t come with you? And why did we leave so fast? I liked it back there.” Before Jasmine could answer Jared got a good look at the bone walls of the house. His eyes became big he dropped the bags scurried to the walls then touched them as gently as a mother would touch a newborn baby. “Wow… are… are these real bones… I mean human bones mom?” “Never you mind about that. Just get back here and take these bags inside, keep your hand over the holes those arrows made. We need to keep as much of the flour and sugar in the bags as we can. I don’t know when we’ll get any more.” Jared slowly started back toward his mom constantly looking back at the house as he walked. “Mother, it hurts… can you make it better,” asked Kamile, while tugging at her mothers pant leg. “Yes… honey, I’ll make it better.” Jasmine reached into the wagon and pulled out some cloths then began wiping the blood of off her daughters face. Jasmine had made a solution of flowers and medicine that Charles had told her about months ago and placed it in a trunk before they left on their journey across country. Grabbing the bottle from the trunk that laid just inside the back of the wagon Jasmine said, “Here this will make you feel better.” Wiping the sticky substance upon Kamile’s forehead resulted in screams

from her. “Now, now Kamile it’s not that bad, you’ll be fine.” “But mother it hurts worse than the anything… please make it go away, please.” “Relax Kamile it’ll be fine, just give it some time, you’ll see. Now C’mon lets go inside and find out what happened to your brother. It’s awfully quiet in there. That makes me nervous. Kamile took her mothers hand and they walked into the house. “Jared honey, where are you?” Jared came running out of the torn down bedroom with a bone in his hand excitedly stating, “Look ma, look what I found! There are more of them in there what do you think it is? It’s a human bone isn’t it? Just like the ones in the wall—it’s human isn’t it? I found a real live human bone just like the one’s in the bone yard-wow!” Jasmine had forgotten about the bedroom with the bones and now faced the prospect of telling her children, or rather trying to explain to a seventeen-year old and ten-year old why human bones were in the bedroom and why this house was made from human bones. She decided to change the subject and try to get the children interested in something else, all the while hoping that Jared wouldn’t go out back and find the graves, that would be very hard to explain, not to mention the fact that the graves were partially uncovered. “Jared honey, why don’t you try to gather some wood for the fireplace? I’m sure we’ll need it tonight… but don’t go out back, those Indians may try to sneak up on us and that would be the perfect hiding place for them… so don’t go there, you here me Jared?” “Yeah mom I hear you, but I want to get the other bones in that room and study them just like pa does.” “That’s sweet of you Jared but for now, just gather firewood… and make sure that it isn’t wet. I know that’s hard with all the rain we’ve had but do your best.” “Okay mom, I’ll be back soon.” “Don’t go too far away from the house, the Indians are out there somewhere.” “Damn it!” said Jasmine under her breath, “I hope I’m doing the right thing in sending my only son out there… oh Lord I hope I’m doing right.” Jasmine guided Kamile to the couch motioning for her to sit on the aged structure of wood and cloth. Kamile jumped on the couch and Jasmine examined

her wound. The sticky substance she’d used earlier was doing its job. Kamile’s wound showed signs of self-repair. “Okay Kammy, let’s see if we can fix something to eat.” “But mommy I don’t see no stove or nothing like that here.” “Don’t say no, say I don’t see anything. No is a bad word for little girls you’re age, especially when you’re talking to your mother… Okay?” “Okay mommy, but what are you going to make… is it something sweet like cranberry pie. I love cranberry pie… is that what you’re going to make, is it huh? Is it?” “We’ll see honey. We’ll see. Right now I have to find something to cook with. If I don’t find anything we may have to start a fire and cook something that way.” Jasmine searched the living room for a stove or something that she could use to cook on while Kamile played with a doll she’d found on the couch. Jasmine had been searching for about ten minutes when Jared bolted through the door, out of breath clothes torn, with an image of horror on his face. Jasmine turned around and knew instinctively what the problem was but had to ask, “Jared honey what is it? What happened?” Jared, still gasping for breath blurted out, “The Indians, there here just beyond where the trees start! They tried to grab me while I was getting the wood, but I slipped away. They were shooting arrows at me all the while I ran. I don’t know why they didn’t hit me.” “They didn’t hit you sweetheart because the Lord was on your side, or you’d surely be dead by now. I told you not to go too far away from here, why didn’t you listen to me?” “I wasn’t far from here just beyond the trees. But mom, why… why haven’t they attacked us… why haven’t they come at us from the torn down room. That’s a perfect place for them to attack.” “I don’t know son. I think it’s odd that they haven’t come out of the trees. It’s almost as if they’re afraid to come out and be seen.” “Mommy I’m sacred!” yelled Kamile as she ran to her mother.

“I know honey so am I, but we’re safe here for the time being. We’ve got to find a way to defend ourselves. I have a feeling those Indians are waiting till dark to attack.” “Mom… I’m… I’m sacred too. I know men aren’t supposed to be sacred, but I am. What are we going to do?” “Alright look you two this is no time to be sacred! If we’re going to survive the night we have to be strong! You’re father would want us to be strong, and you Jared, I know you’re father would want you to be the man of the family. Until your father gets back you’re the leader of our little group. I’ll help you all I can, but you’re the man and you have to guide us. Do you understand Jared? I know this is a lot for you to handle at this age but we need you.” “But mom when will dad be back?” asked Jared as his composure started to reappear. “I don’t know, but I do know that he’d want us to fight like our lives depended on it… because… well they do.” Kamile started to cry as Jared slowly walked toward the front door. “Jared, where are you going, you need to be here with us!” “You don’t know this mom, but dad left three guns in the wagon and a box of shells just in case he was gone and we needed protection. I’m going out there to get them.” “Thank you Charles!” exclaimed Jasmine, subtly under her breath. “Be careful, those Indians can shoot arrows from the trees and you don’t want to be stuck with one of those, believe me you don’t!” Jared opened the door slowly peering around the edge of it, before venturing out in the open. When all was clear he went outside and closed the door gently. “What the hell am I doing out here?” he said to himself. “Those Indians will probably grab me

and scalp me, then what would mom do?” He snuck to the side of the wagon then quickly ran around to the back and jumped in. A few seconds later his hands clutched the back gate of the wagon and his head slowly appeared above it. He scanned the area for Indians but didn’t see any. His hands began shaking as he scrounged through the mess of blankets, barrels, and a few small trunks. Nothing! He couldn’t find the guns or the box of shells. “Oh… damn it! What happened to them? They’ve got to be here somewhere. I know there here! I just know it!” A few more minutes of searching produced his quarry. Charles had taught him how to load and use a gun before they left for the west. This was not something that Jasmine wanted or would be thrilled about if she knew it happened. Jared secured the guns found a box to put them in and started out of the wagon when he stopped. “You idiot!” he said, “Load the guns first, then take them inside.” He put the box down on a gray-blue blanket, opened the box of shells and began loading the guns. Between loading he would gaze out into the forest for any signs of movement or the Indians. So far nothing unusual, just the normal sounds of the forest. He quickly finished loading, jumped out of the wagon and headed back to house. With the guns stuck in his belt, the few shells that were left tucked neatly away in his shirt pocket he secured the door handle just as he heard a sound that he’d heard in the forest. He didn’t want to hear or experience it again. Turning around, arrow after arrow came twirling toward him. He ducked as they stuck into the door just above his head. On his knees he opened the door crawled through the muddy water into the house pushing the door shut behind him. As he tumbled away the remaining shells twirled out of his shirt pocket and into the puddles that hadn’t dried yet. “Get down!” he yelled, “The Indians are back. They just shot at me, get down!” Jasmine pulled Kamile off the couch and fell into a large puddle of water nearby. “Damn rain!” yelled Jasmine, as she tried to keep Kamile as dry as possible. “Mommy I’m sacred!” cried Kamile. “Don’t worry honey, your brother will take care of us… don’t worry.” She looked over at Jared and they both silently exchanged the same thoughts. Jared crawled under one of the windowsills and peaked above the ridge. Movement shown subtly in the woods but Jared couldn’t tell if it were animals or the Indians. Retrieving one gun from his belt he threw the other one at his mother. Jasmine caught it just before it would have landed in the puddle that she and Kamile were now sharing. “If I could just get one of those Indians with one shot and maybe scare off the rest of them with shot after shot, that may keep them away for awhile.”

Jared took the gun raised it above the sill, resting his shooting hand on the sill. He saw bushes sway back and forth. Now he was sure had to be an Indian and fired. The sound of someone yelling in pain and falling to the ground made Jared smile with delight. Quickly he started rapid firing into the woods. Jared saw what looked like the Indians after he finished his rounds. It looked like they were retreating farther back into the woods. Gazing toward his mother he said, “I got one and I think the others ran off.” Jared started to rise then Jasmine yelled, “Get down! They could still be out there and if you stand up they’ll get you!” Jared immediately fell to his knees crawling toward his mother. “I think it’s okay mom, I’m almost sure their gone.” “Yeah… you’re almost sure. I’d rather have you be certain than almost sure.” “, you’ve got to protect me and your sister. That’s a big job.” “But, how will I know if they’re gone? We still have to get the rest of the supplies out of the wagon.” Jasmine knew he was right. If they waited it would be dark soon and the Indians would have the advantage. “Mom… what about the supplies? We’ll need the blankets for tonight, I’m sure it’s going get cold out here, especially with that room open like that.” Jasmine thought about the prospects of getting supplies versus the Indians and decided that, if Jared were careful—and so far that had been the case, he’d be able to get the supplies plus anything else they needed without being attacked. However, she also thought about the fact that if he were attacked and God forbid, didn’t survive it would just be her and Kamile. A woman having to take care of a child while at the same time fighting off Indians is not a good prospect. But, something had to be done. Those Indians weren’t going away and the air in the house had started to cool as the sun began to sink in the sky. “Okay… Jared you go out there get as much as you can out of the wagon. I’ll watch out for the Indians from the window and please Jared… be careful!” “Okay mom… you too. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Jasmine took Kamile over to the window slowly raising her gun just over the sill as she watched the forest for any sign of the Indians. Jared crawled over to the door, reached up and slowly opened it. He looked into the forest and around the wagon. Nothing was out of the ordinary that made him more nervous. These Indians were smart they knew when to attack, when to hide and had done a very good job of both. Jared ran around the wagon and jumped in the back. He

grabbed as many bags of supplies as he could and threw them out onto the wet, cold ground. After he’d emptied most of the wagon he thought about how he would get those bags along with the trunk into the house. It’s too heavy for Jared to lift. Right now that would be the biggest problem. He’d have to get his mom to help. That would mean Kamile would also come out with her. The three of them would be wide open for an attack. The trunk held clothing and that could wait till morning if needed. Jared jumped down and grabbed two bags then flung each one over each shoulder, as he headed for the front door. The bags were much heavier than he thought they’d be, almost as heavy as the trunk carrying them proved to be quite a chore. He almost fell twice from the wagon to the door but he made it throwing the bags on the porch as he moved to open the door. As he put his hand on the door he felt the sting of an arrow piercing his shoulder. He fell onto the porch screaming. Jasmine heard his scream ran over and opened the door. “Jared… oh my Lord! She stepped out onto the porch and fired a few rounds into the woods… just in case prying eyes were watching. She grabbed Jared dragging him inside shutting the door behind her. “Jared honey… I’m so sorry, I should have never told you it was okay to go out there, now look, you’ve been attacked by one of those Indians. I’m so sorry Jared.” “It’s okay mom. It doesn’t hurt, really it doesn’t.” Jasmine knew that wasn’t the truth just Jared trying to be strong for her. She told Kamile to look for the potion that she’d used for Kamile’s head earlier, while she torn off a piece of her blouse to use as a bandage for Jared’s wound. She tried to decipher whether she should pull the arrow through his shoulder or, pull it out from the back. The arrow had gone cleanly through his shoulder stopping an equal distance in front and in back of his shoulder, so either way would result in the same pain. She decided that pulling it out by the arrowhead would be better, The feathers on the other end were facing toward his back so the wound wouldn’t get any bigger by doing it this way. Jasmine sat in behind Jared, grabbed the arrowhead and said, “I’m sorry honey, but this is going to hurt. Here put this cloth between your teeth it may help.” About this time Kamile returned with the potion, “You gonna fix Jared mommy?” “Sure sweetie, I sure am.” “Good. What’s that sticking out of him, it looks funny.” “Sweetie, could you go play for a minute or two. I’ll be done here soon, okay?”

“Okay mommy.” Jasmine looked at the blood soaked arrow while grabbing it with both hands. Jared told her to go ahead she yanked the arrow through Jared’s body. Muffled screams echoed throughout the house while blood shot out of his wound all over Jasmine’s face and blouse. She took off her blouse pressing it strongly against Jared’s wound. Wrapping it around his shoulder so that both the entrance of the arrow and the exit were covered completely. “Kamile sweetie, could you get that small medicine box out of that gray bag over there?” “Okay mommy, is Jared better now?” “Not just yet sweetie, now go get that box.” Kamile found the box quickly running back to her mother. “Okay sweetie open the box get that big tin of bandages and the needle and thread.” She did as asked. “Thank you sweetie, now go back and play some more.” “Okay mommy.” “Jared I’m going to have to put this medicine on that wound then re-bandage it. The medicine will probably sting, but the worse part of all this is going to be me sewing up those wounds. You’re gonna have to be strong. I know it’s going to hurt, but it has to be done. You ready?” Jared took a deep breath, “Yeah mom go ahead.” She took her blouse off of his wounds stuck it as far into the back wound as possible while she wiped the entrance hole with the medicine. Jared tried to be strong but couldn’t help but scream in pain. Next she did the same thing to the exit wound then began to sew up the wounds. Jared didn’t feel the pain of the needle as much as he did the medicine. What really hurt was when she pulled the wounds closed to do the stitching. A few minutes later Jared’s arm had been bandaged making for a full recovery. Jasmine put her bloodied blouse back on. She had no other choice, her clothes were still in the wagon and wasn’t about to go out there or send Jared back out there until she could find a way of getting the rest of the supplies and the trunk without the Indians attacking again. Meanwhile Jared had crawled over to the window. Jasmine crawled over to Jared looking for the Indians that had taunted her family. The brightness and warmth of the sun faded fast. Before long night would take over and they’d be in more danger than they had been before taking shelter in this house. Jasmine turned around looking toward the demolished bedroom then back at Jared. “Honey we have to find some way of blocking out the bedroom. That would be the first place the Indians would attack when it gets dark. How does your shoulder feel?” “It’s a lot better than a few minutes ago, I’m fine. What did you want to do?

“We have to board up that door way, then put something up against it to stop anyone from getting through. Do you think you’re strong enough to help me with that? I know that wound has to be bothering you, but I can’t do it alone, if it hurts you too much…” “It’s alright mom. I can handle it. I can help you.” “Good, now all I have to do is figure out how to take care of Kamile while were working on that doorway.” “Mom what about the other bedroom? We could put Kamile in there until were done. She loves playing with that doll. She’d be safe in there.” “You know that for sure Jared?” “No, but she’d have better protection in there than out here in the open with us.” “Yeah I guess you’re right Jared honey. You sure have your fathers’ intelligence. Okay, I’ll take Kamile in that room and get her settled while you start finding something to use on that doorway.” Jared moved slowly toward the doorway trying not to show his mother how much pain he felt besides the doubt he had that anything could stop those Indians. The water that had covered the living room subsided quite a bit. Now all that was left were a few puddles and a muddy wet floor. Not a good substance for walking on or trying to tear apart for use as a partition between rooms. Jared arrived at the doorway just in time to see an Indian coming out of the forest heading toward him. He searched the immediate area found a piece of wood with nails sticking out on one end. As soon as Jared saw the Indian step into the living room he swung the board up into the Indian’s chest. The Indian looked at his wound back at Jared with a look of astonishment that a child had taken his life and fell to the floor. Jasmine came running out of the bedroom realizing what had happened. “Oh Jared honey, you alright?” “Yeah I’m fine. A lot better than that Indian.” “You did a very good job of stopping him.” She bent down gradually pushing the Indian over. The Indian still clutched a tomahawk in his hand plus the board that Jared had used still stuck in his chest but now it worked as a slide for all of the Indians blood. It poured out of him faster than a cattle stampede. “Mom look… look at that tomahawk… it’s got something carved on it. Jasmine tried to pull the tomahawk from the dead Indian. Struggling three times to pull it out of his hand. Finally on the fourth try she succeeded and fell

flat on her ass. “Damn this must be some special tomahawk for him to be holding it that tight,” she said as she rose from the cold floor. Oh… oh my God! Jared… look at this carving tell me what you think see.” Jared took the tomahawk gazing at the figure that had been carved in the wooden blade. It was a familiar face, a face that Jared had known for seventeen years. A face that he’d seen happy, sad and very mad at times. It was his fathers face. “Oh… my God! Its Dad… but… how is that possible? Mom where is dad? You and Aero went searching for him and… wait… where is Aero? What happened to him? You took us so fast out of the bone valley and with the Indians and all I’d forgotten about Aero, what happened to him and dad?” “I wanted to keep all this away from you as long as possible, but now it’s probably best you know. Son Aero… well… the Indians got him he died on the way back to the valley. As for your dad… I… I don’t know what happened to him. By the looks of this tomahawk the Indians may have gotten him also… I don’t know son… I just don’t know.” Jasmine dropped to the floor and began crying. Jared now had the weight of all that had happened and the prospect of never seeing his dad again to deal with. He dropped to the floor began crying then put his arms around his mother. The two of them cried for what they imagined to be forever, when in reality it only a few minutes ed when they heard pounding coming from the other bedroom. “Oh… my word, I left Kamile in there. Jared honey, I know you’ve just been told a lot of bad news and you’re hurting but we have to stick together for Kamile’s sake if nothing else. Please… please forgive for not telling you sooner… help me get rid of this Indian… please honey I need your help, I can’t move him on my own.” Jared looked at his mother the face of a tormented soul reached his eyes the lines on her face were deeper and more pronounced than ever before. She was worn out in bad need of a good nights sleep. Jared summoned all his strength while helping his mother move the Indian into the conglomeration of wood, sheets, and bones that occupied the demolished bedroom. “Thank you Jared, thank you very much! I have to get Kamile or soon she’ll be crying, could you finish what we started?” “Sure mom, I’ll get it done as fast as I can.” Jared searched the area found some large pieces of wood that when put together looked large enough to cover the doorway. He struggled placing the wood. Strength was that of a seventeen year old, not a man his

shoulder started to ache more than it ever had. Eventually, he placed the wood against the opening trying to where the nails and hammers were. He knew those boards wouldn’t last long just being placed at an angle over the door. Jasmine reappeared with Kamile by her side. “Good Jared, it looks like you’ve got a good start on that doorway.” “Yeah mom, but I need nails and a hammer, do you know where they are?” “They should be in the wa…” “The wagon right?” asked Jared. His emotions raged at the thought of having to go back outside into the wagon again. Jasmine could see the apprehension in his eyes. “Okay, I’ll go outside and get the nails and hammer,” said Jasmine. “Mom you can’t, those Indians are still out there and it’s getting darker outside. Soon they’ll be able to sneak up here without being seen! Who knows, they could be out there on the other side of the wagon just waiting for one of us to come out so they can… can attack us! Mom I’ll go, I’m okay. I’ll be very careful out there.” “No son, you’ve done enough. It’s time I did something more than stand around here and let you get hurt. I’m going! You to take care of Kamile just in case… well just in case! No more discussion on this you hear Jared? You take care of Kamile, I’ll be right back. Jasmine took one of the guns while motioning for Jared to take his position at the window with his gun. Jared ran over retrieving his gun from the floor beneath the window and got into position. “Kamile sweetie go over behind your brother and be quiet okay?” “Where you going mommy?” “I just have to get some things from the wagon.” “Ou… can I come mommy, can I?”

“No sweetie, stay here with your brother. Its too dangerous out there.” “Oh… okay… but I’ll be good, can’t I come with you, please? I don’t like it in here and I’m cold.” “No sweetie. Stay with your brother he’ll take care of you.” “Okay… okay… but hurry back.” “I will sweetie I will.” Jasmine waited until Kamile sat safe behind Jared and went outside with her gun drawn. She hadn’t had much experience with a gun but figured if she could just point it and fire she may get lucky by hitting an Indian or two. She crouched down slowly walking around the wagon to the back and jumped in. Jared form his viewpoint couldn’t see the back of the wagon or the other side but kept an eye on the wagon. Once and a while he would gaze into the woods for any sign of life. It wasn’t long before Jared saw the wagon moving violently and his mother screaming for him. He wanted to run out to her but within seconds multiple arrows hit the bone wall bouncing off landing on the porch. A few of them made it into the house, just past Jared’s head. As he fired repeatedly his desire to save his mother gained in strength. He was about to do something stupid when the arrows stopped hitting the house within seconds everything had stillness to it. “Kamile I’m going to go outside to check on mom I want you to go over there hide behind that couch and don’t let anyone in except me or mom okay?” “But, what happened to mom? What are all these arrows doing on the floor?” Kammy just do what I say, mommy put me in charge so please do what I say.” “Oh… alright, but you come back here fast. I don’t like it here!” Jared made sure Kamile was safe and ran out to the wagon. He rounded the corner of the wagon and saw his mother. The sight of her being scalped and stabbed made him throw up. There were bruises on her face a deep gash in her arm along with gashes in her head. So much blood oozed out of her that Jared wondered how she could still be alive. He sat down besides her moving in close to her. “Jar… Jared… take care of Kamile. You… yo… you’re the man of the house. Ma… make sure Kamile is taken care of. I love you honey.” Jasmine’s eyes closed. Jared felt the limpness of death cover her body.

Chapter 3

Bonestown History, Jared and Kamile

Loneliness is horrible for anyone to endure, but the loneliness after losing a loved one in a violent manner is more than lonely, it’s devastating. This is what Jared faced as he lay by the wagon crying holding his mother. Now the only family he had left was Kamile in a land unfamiliar to both of them with the threat of Indians still lurking in the nearby woods. Jared wanted his mother and father back desperately. Thoughts of how he and Kamile were to survive tumbled relentlessly through his mind. He looked down at the tired face of his mother now silent at peace and wondered why God had taken her from him at a time when he needed her so much. Jared knew he couldn’t stay here much longer, the Indians would come back, Kamile had to be safe. No one else could do the job of protector except Jared. He had to do something no matter how badly his emotions were affecting him. For the sake of Kamile Jared had to be strong. He slipped out from behind his mother gently laying her on the ground. Jared prayed over her not paying any attention to the woods or what might be waiting for him in the dark crevasses between the conglomeration of trees and bushes. “Kammy where are you… I need to talk to you now!” he said as he pushed back the front door A small voice echoed from the first bedroom softly, “I’m over here. Did you help mommy get that stuff?” Jared didn’t respond but walked to the bedroom found Kamile tried as best as a seventeen-year old could to explain what happened to their mother. “Kammy c’mere. Put down that doll. I… I… have something to tell you.” “Is it about mommy and daddy?” “Ah… yes it is honey.” “Oh… I know already what you want to tell me. You want to tell me that

mommy and daddy are in a better place that someday we’ll see them again. That’s it isn’t it?” “Ah… ye… yes, but how did you know? I didn’t tell you anything yet.” “Mommy and me had a talk while you were trying to fix that door. She said that daddy had gone to a better place that she may be going there soon and not to worry that everybody goes to that better place when they are older. She said some other stuff, but I couldn’t understand it.” “And you understood what she was saying?” “I guess… I can’t wait to see mommy and daddy again, you think we can see them soon?” “Ah… not that soon Kammy, maybe quite a few years before we see them again.” “Aw… I was hoping it’d be soon, I miss mommy already… you miss her too don’t you Jare?” “Yes, honey,” said Jared. His eyes filled with tears as he grabbed Kamile hugging her. “Kammy… I… I have to go to make sure that mommy is going to make it to the better place on time, so I’ll be gone for a while. I want you to stay in this room. Don’t open that door for anyone but me… can you do that Kammy?” “Yeah I can. When will you be back? I don’t like it here.” “I’ll be back soon, and I’ll look in on you from that window over there from time to time so you make sure you behave okay?” “Sure… but hurry back, I’m hungry.” “I’ll be back very soon then I’ll see about getting both of us something to eat.” Jared shut the door walked out of the bone house over to his mother. Her face had turned pale blue that brought on more tears and more emotions. He bent down picked his mother up under her arms and dragged her as fast as he could to

the back of the house where he slipped falling on one of the partially dug up graves. He stood up not realizing what he’d fallen on brushed off some dirt and mud, then turned around and saw the four graves. The fear he’d experienced thus far had been nothing compared to what he experienced as a result of viewing the graves. Jared turned away throwing up in the process. He hadn’t eaten since early that morning it was a painful dry heave. “Oh Lord what is happening here? Please help me survive and get through this… please. In his desire to properly take care of his mother’s body he’d forgotten to find a shovel to dig her final resting place. When he finally regained his composure he searched the grounds behind the house for a shovel or something sharp enough to dig a hole quickly. His boots kept getting stuck in mud that made the effort more difficult. Jared thought about taking a chance and going back to the wagon to secure the small shovel-like tool his mother used to use to dig up area’s to plant flowers and use that, despite the fact that it would take forever to dig a hole large enough. As he debated with his conscious about that prospect a different thought came forward, not a wise one, but for a child of seventeen it seemed like a good solution. “Hey… why not put mom in one of these graves. After all, whoever is buried here is gone it’s just their bones that are left. Besides the ground is much softer here than trying to dig a new grave.” The more he thought about it the more it made sense. He started moving the muddy ground that had once served as a covering for the previous owner of this hole discovering that it would be a fairly easy dig especially when all he would use were his hands. In fact he wondered if the graves had been dug up earlier then filled back over by someone. It was way too easy. It took about an hour with time spent resting watching for Indians looking at Kamile through the bedroom window for Jared to finish unearthing the skeleton in the first grave. His hands started shaking that surprised as well as scaring him. The strength of his entire body seemed drained to the end of whatever gives people strength he collapsed beside the hole with one of his hands dangling into the open earth. Jared fell sound asleep and wouldn’t have awakened for hours except for the sound of horses, voices, and screams that echoed through the forest. He awoke jumping up almost falling backward into the grave. The sounds became louder. Looking down at the hole with his mother’s body he said defiantly “No! Those Damn Indians are not going to get her! Not now! Not ever! He bent down secured his mother rolled her over into the hole. Having rested only for about a half hour he still wasn’t at full strength, but had a renewed vigor for accomplishing the task at hand. Jared covered the hole faster than he thought

he could ever move patted the ground over the grave with his feet. Now his mother could rest in peace, no matter what happened next. The thought of a prayer came forward with great desire. But Jared wondered if he had the time for such an act. His mother deserved to have a prayer, and he knew from what his mother told him early in life, that a soul would not go to heaven unless a prayer for their safety plus the goodness they had done in life was said. He kept hearing the commotion in the woods getting louder. Men’s voices echoed through the trees “There are people other than Indian’s out there?” he thought as he ran over looking through the dirty glass to check on Kamile… she was sound asleep. “That’s good,” he said under his breath while he ran toward the wagon. A glance into the woods where he heard the loudest noises revealed the outline of two men on horseback chasing three Indians through the woods. Those men might be able help him and Kamile but he didn’t want to yell at them for fear the Indians would take advantage of their attackers lack of concentration thereby assaulting them. However, he knew the Indians weren’t paying attention to him this may be the chance to help those men get rid of the Indians. Jared retrieved a gun from his belt waited for the right moment then fired three shots not exactly sure if he would strike anything the visibility was poor at best but he had to try. Two of bullets hit one Indian as he fell facedown in a puddle of mud the other one struck the Indian closest to him in the back of the head he fell into the same puddle. The other Indian now alone had too many attackers facing him. Quickly he succumbed to the men’s shots and twirled around as multiple bullets found their mark then fell backwards onto the cold earth. Both men gazed toward Jared turned partially around on their saddle motioning for someone or other people to follow them. The men kicked the sides of their horses galloping toward Jared and the house. When they arrived in front of Jared they seemed like saviors sent on the wings of angels. The men dismounted and walked toward Jared. He noticed even though the light of day wouldn’t be around much longer that one man the man leading the group had lived a hard life-his face shown how hard he worked to survive. The flowing coat that reached down to his knees had stitching on the shoulders plus what appeared to be bullet holes on both sides. His hat revealed the years that he had worn it in addition to how the elements had affected its structure. The man walked as if one foot had been created shorter than the other thereby allowing pain to rear its ugly head each time his feet touched the ground. Jared did notice that he had new guns. They were shiny and bright even in this dayturned-to-night light. The boots the man had were studded with what looked like

gems of some kind. They would twinkle each time a ray of light from anything would strike them. They bordered the bottom of the boot up on both sides and around the top. He carried a rifle that still smoked from its recent use. The second man looked more ominous. All his clothes were black. He wore a patch over one eye although looking considerably younger then the first man, but his gate appeared to be swift and sure, unlike his predecessor’s. He also had a coat that ventured to his knees. The only thing that stood out on him were his gloves they didn’t match anything else he wore. Gloves that hadn’t seen much use covered his hands tightly. This man carried a rifle that had no wood. It consisted of gold or something that mimicked gold—a rifle made of solid gold is something Jared had never seen-a thought entered his mind. His dad had said that he had heard of a man that wore all black carrying a solid gold rifle. This man had wanted posters on him in five states for robbery and murder. Jared also ed that his dad said that the all black man rode with an older man, presumed to be his father and were headed west. The first man came up to Jared, reached out his hand and said, “Hi there young fella that’s some pretty good shootin you did, especially when there ain’t much light here. Did your dad teach you how to shoot? Wow, this is some house you got here boy. Looks like bones. Huh, a house made of human bones… we’ll I’ll be. You’re folks around boy? Jared reluctantly shook his hand debating on whether to tell him about his situation but knew it would just be a matter of time before they found out anyway. “My… my folks… are dead… killed by Indians. Who are you guys? His voice trembled and cracked. “Ah… that’s terrible isn’t it Clyde? We have something in common with you son, my folks were killed by Injuns too. Them bastards! I’d kill ever one of them if I could find all of them. Looks like you have the same thinking… huh boy? Oh… I’m sorry I forgot to introduce us. I’m Jake Louter, and that’s my son Clyde. Say hi to the boy Clyde.” “Howdy boy, what’s you’re name?” “It’s Jared… Jared Street.” “Jared Street huh… what’s your dad’s name Jared Sidewalk?” His laughter could be heard for miles; strong and loud.

“Clyde… be nice! From the looks of it this boy needs our help. Go back and see what happened to the rest of our clan, they should have been here by now.” About this time Jared heard Kamile knocking on the bedroom door and yelling. “What’s that boy, your brother or sister?” “That… that’s my sister she’s only ten years old. It’s my job to protect her.” “We’ll then you’d better go get her, shouldn’t you boy?” Jake could see that the boy was frightened and decided to ease his fears, if he could. “It’s okay son, we ain’t gonna hurt you or you’re sister. You saved both Clyde and I. I’m beholding to ya for that. We want to help you. Looks like you two are all alone here. Believe me with the Injuns we’ve seen and fought coming here you need our help. So… go get you’re little sister, I promise we won’t hurt you or you’re sister alright boy?” Jared slowly backed up turned around quickly darting back to check up Kamile. When he got to her he told her that he’d met some men they said they would help us. Kamile looked surprised at the prospect of men showing up here. “Where did they come from?” “I don’t know Kammy, but they look like they could take care of us. I can’t fight the Indians alone. Jake, that’s the father, said they have a family so we’d be safe with them.” “That means they have kids like us?” “Yeah… probably.” “Oh… great, let’s go! I don’t like this place and I’m hungry” Jared watched Kamile for a few seconds as her eagerness to leave motivated her to swiftly move toward the door of the bedroom while shaking his head and generating a subdued smile. “Wait Kamile, let me take you out there!” Kamile turned just before reaching for the doorknob and waited for Jared. He took hold of her arm opened the door hearing what sounded like wagon approaching the house from the woods. Jared could see just enough of the wagon through the front window of the house to know that it is much bigger than theirs with a woman at the reins. Jake looked turned toward the sound of the wagon wheels meshing the dirt, rocks and mud, then back around to Jared and Kamile. “That’s just my wife with

the rest of our group. Come out and meet them. My wife Matilda is one tough woman but you’ll be fine with her. “What… what do you mean I’ll be fine with her,” asked Jared hoping that he wasn’t going to say what he thought he would. “Well son were gonna take you and you’re pretty sister with us as we head out to the west to settle.” “But… what if we don’t want to go with you? What if we want to stay here? Jake looked at Jared and Kamile then turned to Matilda as she walked inside the house. Matilda shook her head as if the two of them communicated to each other without talking. Jake turned to Jared, “You know son, you’re right. This house is kind of a strange thing. But I did see a river on the way here. You know it might be good to settle here. Okay son we’ll stay here, at least for a while see how it goes you know.” Jared smiled while Kamile peaked her head out from behind his shirt to see what was happening stating in a soft voice just barely audible, “They gonna stay with us Jare?” “Yes Kammy there gonna stay here with us.” “But, I don’t like it here, can’t we go someplace else?” Jared turned to Kamile. “We need to stay here for a while… it’s safe here. I know you want to leave, but we have shelter here, and now we have people that can protect us. You want to be safe don’t you, so the Indians don’t get you don’t you?” “Indians? Are they here now?” “No Kammy but they still may be out there and I’m in charge now so we need to be protected and safe you understand?” Jake’s two girls jumped out of the back of the wagon. “Hey Kammy look,” said Jared, “they have a girl about your age. Maybe the two of you could become best friends.” Kamile saw the two girls running toward her. She scooted toward them embracing them as if they were her long lost sisters. The three of them ran handin-hand into the house giggling and laughing. “Well son appears like your sister and my daughters are gonna get along real well. “Say boy…” “My name is Jared sir.”

“Oh… yeah. Sorry about that son… Jared, I just call anyone younger than me boy, just a habit I guess. I’ll try to your name from now on. Let’s get a look at the house of bones. That okay with you boy… I mean Jared?” “Yes sir.” “You don’t have to call me sir Jared, just Jake will be fine.” Jake, Clyde, and Matilda wiped their boots and shoes on the porch outside before entering. “My word,” said Matilda, “what happened in here? Looks like a strong wind whipped through this place.” “We had problems with Indians. I had to kill one of them to save us,” said Jared as he walked over to where the Indian had died. “Well Jared, you shoot damn good and you killed an Injun. Damn boy, you should have been out there fighting them Injuns with us!” said Matilda. “I didn’t like killing that Indian and I shot those other Indians because you needed help. Killing ain’t something I like… not at all.” “Hey pa,” said Jasmine, the oldest daughter, “look at this bedroom it’s torn to shreds and look bones. What the hell are bones doing in a house?” “We don’t know why they are there,” said Jared walking over toward the bedroom. They were here when we got here. You want to see something really strange? There are graves out back. One… one of them is moms. An Indian attacked her.” Jared’s eyes became wet and he knew that showing emotions isn’t something a boy did in front of men, so he forced back the tears and explained what had happened to his folks. “Damn Jared, you’ve had a rough time of it for a boy… you’re what fifteen or sixteen?” “I’m seventeen Jake.” “Seventeen years old and taking care of your family like that. Jared we are glad we found you. You’re gonna make a good man when you grow up. Good man!”

“Thank yo…” Jared collapsed on the wet floor. “Clyde, get the medicine and a blanket from the wagon. Matilda you try to wake him up. I’ll get the…” “He’s drained Jake honey. He needs food and rest.” “I’ll get some of the food we have left you keep him comfortable… I have big plans for that boy… big plans!” “Jake you promised you wouldn’t do that again, you pro…” “Never mind what I promised you take care of him.” Jake left as Clyde came back in with the items that Jake had requested. “Clyde put those things over there,” said Matilda, “He just needs food and rest right now. Your father is going to get some food from the wagon. Here help me get him on that couch. Where are the girls? Do you see them anywhere?” “I think there in that room over there.” Clyde pointed toward the bedroom that hadn’t been touched by destruction. “Want me to get’em?” “Na, just check on them. See if their doing alright, your father should be back any time now.” Clyde walked over to the bedroom and a few seconds later Jake showed up with some food for Jared. It wasn’t much, just some hard tack plus a few pieces of bread, but it was enough to give Jared strength. He woke to see Matilda leaning over him and jumped up knocking Matilda back on the floor. “I reckon you’re feeling better,” said Matilda while she sat up giving Jared the food. He gobbled up the hard tack and bread as if it were is last meal. While Jared ate Matilda told Jake to give the rest of the food to Kamile and the other girls. It took about a half hour for Jared to regain his full strength. When he felt strong enough he stood up looked over at the room where he had killed the Indian and observed Jake and Clyde picking up the Indian by the shoulders and throwing him farther into the room. Jared could hear the loud splash the body made as it hit the remaining water. “Hey what are you guys doing? He should be buried! “Sorry… Jared, but this thing doesn’t deserve burying. He’s fine right where he is.

Soon he’ll float away or stay where he landed. Anyway, the buzzards will get to him eventually.” “Jake,” yelled Matilda, “Were gonna stay here! I don’t want the smell of stagnant water and a body filling this house! Now take that Indian outside and either bury him or leave him for the buzzards but he’s not staying in that room— you here me Jake?” Jake never liked it when Matilda yelled at him or flexed her power over him in front of Clyde or the girls or both. But after a few moments of reflection plus the fact that he could see that she wasn’t going to back down he motioned for Clyde to follow him and they took the Indian again and left the house. “There that’s done,” said Matilda, as she patted Jared on the back. “How long have you and your sis been here Jared?” “Not long ma’am, a few days I guess… why?” “Oh… nothing, just wondering how you survived without your folks around.” “How did you know about that?” “I overhead my man talking to you outside after we pulled up. Losing your folks must have really hurt you and your sis, especially the way you say they died. Is there anything I can do for you son?” Jared’s eyes began to tear up. “No… no ma’am I’m fine now.” “Alright Jared, but you let me know if I can help you.” “Yes ma’am I will. Thank you for the food. Did Kamile get any food yet?” “Yes, I told Clyde to giver her the rest of the food, I’m sure she’s fine.” “Thank you ma’am.” About this time the front door opened. Jake and Clyde came in with some bones from the graves out back. “Mother come look at this… these bones… they’re bright white. How you reckon they got that way?” Matilda rushed over to Jake securing one of the bones from Jake’s hand.

“How dare you dig up the grave of the dead! You’ll go straight to hell for this! You know that don’t you! You don’t disturb the dead! You know better than that Jake… how could you do this?” “Mother I didn’t dig up the grave, The graves weren’t covered they were just laying in a hole. It looks like someone had started to dig them up then stopped. C’mon I’ll show you.” “I wouldn’t go out there,” yelled Jared. “Why son?” asked Matilda, “There something out back we shouldn’t see?” “I… I… guess not, but its very strange there. I buried mom out there besides finding the graves the way you see them, it’s just a very odd place. I didn’t feel right when I was back there. There’s something strange about those graves.” “Jared boy, you were in the process of burying your mother, I can see why that would scare you. Seeing all those bones and graves. Hell… it sacred me when I first saw them, but they are just graves of the dead and bones of dead people, they can’t hurt you. Tell you what, I saw the grave of your mother, how about Clyde and I re-bury the other bones and put crosses at each grave? That way whoever is buried there will have a proper grave. How does that sound? Would that make you feel better Jared?” “Yeah… yeah Jake I guess so sir, but be careful I still think there is something not right back there.” “Don’t worry Jared, we’ll be fine,” said Matilda, as she walked out with Jake and Clyde. Jared went into the bedroom where the girls were sat down on the floor leaned up against the bed and waited. He knew it wouldn’t be long before they’d be back and wasn’t sure what would happen next. Outside Jake and the rest of his family had reached the graves. “My word that boy was right… and so were you Jake,” said Matilda, “Someone did start to dig up these graves and it is a bit spooky here.” “Na, there’s nothing to what that boy said,” said Jake, “Just a boy sacred of being alone.

You know having to go through what he has these past few days that had to take something out of him that’s all.” “Maybe so,” said Clyde, “But this grave has been dug up some more… its deeper than the other one’s. It wasn’t like that the last time we were out here.” “So,” said Jake, “We either have Injuns trying to mess with us or that boy is playing tricks on us. No problem there. If it’s Injuns we’ll kill-em all. If it’s the boy… huh… we’ll take care of him too later but we need him now so we’ll take care of him later on, when his services aren’t needed anymore.” Jake and Clyde started to laugh as Matilda stormed away walking back toward the house. The two men found the shovel that Jared had used and begin to rebury the bones. It wasn’t any easy task, especially with very little light and as darkness started to grow deeper in shade the men began to feel that something wasn’t quite right with the color that surrounded them. They were good at burying people had a knack for it they’d done quite a lot of this type of thing in past years and could easily complete their task with subdued lighting or no light at all. In the house Matilda had gone to the bedroom telling the children to come out into the living room while she went out to their wagon to get more supplies. Jared still didn’t feel right about the two men re-burying those bones The more time the men spent outside the more anxious Jared became. What surprised Jared the most was that he was concerned at all about the new family that had taken over their lives. He’d never met these people before. Maybe what his dad had told him back east was true—then again maybe not. Jared hadn’t seen any evidence of evil by the two men. But as cold air seeped through the dismantled bedroom he’d started to shiver. “Be strong Jared,” he said under his breath, “You can’t let them know you’re cold or afraid. They might use that against you. You Need to protect Kamile.” Matilda returned with a few bags of flour, beans, coffee, and the fixings to make a good dinner for everyone. She found the stove and put the wood next to it into the stove thereby starting a good, strong fire. Jared looked at the fire waffling in the stove feeling the warmth travel through his body. The girls were cuddled up on the couch that sat to the right of the stove and were playing with dolls in addition to a game that the new girls had made with a checkered board and some poker chips. Kamile was having a ball playing with the girls and that made Jared feel uneasy, “She shouldn’t accept strangers so easily.” He thought as he asked Matilda, “Where were you and your family headed? Out farther west or to another town close by?” Jared figured that maybe if he got to know the family his fears would subside. He didn’t trust Jake very

much. Matilda had started to prepare the ingredients for dinner and told Jared, “We came from a town called Historville about ten miles back east way. I doubt you’ve heard of it. It is a small town with very few people. We had to leave… I… I should say we left because the town was dying and aside from our family there were three other families that were left. We all decided that we’d have a better chance at a good life out west. “What happened to the other three families?” asked Jared. “Its like this Jared,” she said as she put the mixture of ingredients in a large bowl on the stove top, wiped her hands on her pants, turned to face Jared and the girls who by now were all looking at Matilda. Matilda’s girls had experienced what had happened to the other families and wanted to hear how their mother explained the situation to Jared and Kamile. “We were about half way to the forest when we were attacked by about ten to fifteen Indians.” Jared’s eyes perked as he asked, “How did you get away from them?” “It wasn’t easy they attacked the other wagons first while they kept us busy firing at them. It was horrible. They scalped some of the men while others were stabbed. They even scalped some of the women grabbed the rest of the women and the children riding off toward their camp. I didn’t see much but I heard the screams of the families. Jake and Clyde bless their souls were firing around after around eventually killing all the Indians except for three of them. Jake… Jake… he got this look in his eye. A look of desire strong desire including hate… whew… the hate I saw in their eyes tore at me. Whatever they were going to do I couldn’t talk them out of it. I only saw that look one other time. Well… I won’t go into that now. I’ll tell you this if you ever see that look in either Jake or Clyde, run away from them then come get me right away—you hear me children?” They all said “yes” in unison. “So those three Indians that were left were they the three that Jake and Clyde were fighting in the forest when I shot at the Indians,?” said Jared. “Yep Jared… you got that right.”

Bubbling water with steam twirled upward from the stove as the smell of baked beans permeated the room. Matilda turned around quickly seized the bowl with some potholders she had placed on a table nearby. She moved the bowl over to what used to be the kitchen table telling one of her girls, the oldest one: “Jenny get your father and brother and tell them dinner is on. No wait, I’ll get them you girls and your new friend put out the plates and… Jared… do you know if there is a stream nearby?” “Yeah… there is one about a mile to the west of us, why?” “We need to get some water to drink.” “Oh… I can go out and get the water for you, if you’d like.” “That’s a long way to walk for a young man of your age, you sure you can handle the trip out and back?” “Yes… yes ma’am, I’m sure. Do you have a bucket I can use for the water?” “Yes, it’s in the wagon, up against the back gate, you’ll see it, it’s big and black with silver bands around it. One thing Jared… its’ heavy even for me you sure you can handle it.” “Yes ma’am, I’ve carried buckets of water before, I can handle it alright.” Matilda walked over to the window gazing out into the forest. “I don’t know if I should let you go it’s darker than a devils camp out there.” “I can do it,” said Jared, as he ran out the front door. Matilda yelled at him from the window, “Be careful out there. Watch where you’re going and get back here as soon as you can.” Matilda heard a muffled, “I will,” as Jared rounded the corner of their wagon snatched the bucket off the gate. She began to wonder walking back over to the bowl nabbing the potholders and putting the bowl back on the stovetop whether she had done the right thing. A horrifying thought bolted into her head, “Jake… he’ll be madder than a sheriff who just lost track of an Indian he’d be trailing for days. “Damn it! The astonished look on the faces of her remaining daughter and Kamile made her realize that she shouldn’t have done that in front of the girls. “It’s okay girls, continue playing your game.” She paced back and forth in front of the stove moving her hands together looking up often while whispering to herself. A few moments later Jenny came back in followed by Jake and Clyde. “Sure glad foods on I could eat a horse,” said Jake as he saw the

plates on the table positioning himself at the head of the table. A puzzled questioning look took over his face. “Mother, where are the vittles? Jenny said dinner was ready. I don’t see any vittles and nothing to drink, so are we eating or not?” Matilda hesitantly walked over to the table. “Jake honey dinner is ready… but… but we don’t have any clean water… so I asked Jared if he knew of a stream nearby he said he did and asked… asked if he… he could go out to get the water. Before I knew what was happening he’d left. I’m sorry… honey… I’m sorry. Jake jumped up from the chair knocking it over in the process took hold of Matilda’s hair yanking it till she screamed. The girls looked up while the younger daughter of Matilda, Kathleen, turned looked at Kamile with a look of fear so horrible that Kamile almost cried. ‘C’mon Kamile we’ve got to get out of here or we’ll be next.” Kathleen took Kamile by the hand swiftly managing to catch up to Jenny as she ran out of the house. Jake heard the commotion and saw the girls leave. “Good the girls are gone now I can show you just how upset I am with you!” He dragged her by the hair over to the stove knocked the bowl of beans off the stove shoving her to a standing position. “Dad don’t!” yelled Clyde running over to help his mother. “Get away from me boy, this ain’t none of your business. Your mother did something she shouldn’t have done! Now… she’s gonna pay for letting the boy go! You get on your horse go after Jared and bring him back here right now! I don’t care if you bring him back dead or alive—now get going or you’ll face the same thing your mother is about to. Now get! It’s about time that Jared and that little sis of his found out what we need and how he is gonna help us get it!” “Matilda, Matilda… you know the rules! When you say dinner is on, it’s on it’s not late, and it’s not waiting on someone else. And most of all you know not to let anyone we capture loose… you failed at both of those things so now you’ll pay. But I’m not going to give you anything that will show. I wouldn’t want people to think I beat my wife. You wouldn’t want that either would you? “No… no please honey don’t I’ll be good I promise… please don’t hurt me please!” “So you the last time we had this discussion right?” Jake took his free hand ripped her blouse off revealing a bare breasted chest with

multiple cuts and bruises. “Hum… looks like I did pretty good work on you last time. Too bad I don’t have that knife anymore. Oh well… I guess I’ll just have to use this poker.” Jake stuck the poker into the fire, which had subsided to glowing embers. “This shouldn’t take too long. Meanwhile I think you need some attention.” He took one of his guns out of his holster and began pistol-whipping her legs. It got so bad that blood seeped through her pants onto the handle of the gun every time he hit her. This lasted only a few seconds. He replaced his gun back into his holster reaching for the poker with his other hand not realizing that the poker would be hot even on the end that wasn’t in the embers. “Damn it! Damn it woman you’re responsible for that!” Reaching for one of the potholders he wrapped it around his hand clutching the poker again. This time he held on. Steam rose slowly from the poker. Just as he started to stab his wife he felt a stinging sensation in his back in multiple areas. Matilda fell out of his grasp. Jake turned realizing that the pain came from Clyde’s freshly fired gun. “Pa, you’re not ever gonna hurt ma again—ever.” Clyde fired around after around into his father’s chest as he walked up to him. When the gun was empty he reached for the left side of his gun belt where his other gun rested in its holster and started to fire more rounds. Matilda ran over, “Stop, honey, stop… he’s dead! You can’t kill a man anymore after he’s dead… please stop.”

Chapter 4

Bonestown History, Evil Intensified

“Clyde honey,” said Matilda trying to cover her chest with the remnants of her torn blouse, “let’s go back and clean up that mess… find a place to bury your father.” “Not now mom dad was a bastard but he was right about one thing… you shouldn’t have let that boy go we need him!” “Oh no! Not you too!” she said then covering her mouth with her hands. Clyde what we… we all did back there was your fathers idea not yours, why… why do you want to carry on those awful deed’s?” “I don’t know mom but they worked. We wouldn’t have all the things we do if not for what dad had planned and acted upon. You stay here. Take care of the kids. I’ll get Jared and bring him back… with the water I’ll make sure he doesn’t run away ever again!” Clyde left the house seized the rains of his horse within in a matter of seconds had galloped away on a quest to fulfill his father’s plan. Darkness came at its full strength. Trying to track a boy in wet ground would be hard for the most seasoned tracker. However, Clyde had been tracking people including Indians all his life what his twenty-three years on earth had taught him was that anything leaves an impression on the soil or ground. If you’re very careful think like your intended victim you usually can track them in any kind of weather for him it seemed to work very well. Jared leisurely walked toward the valley of bones dragging while at times carrying the bucket on one of his shoulders. With night closing in it became harder to see the path along with the trees ahead of him. This wasn’t good especially when Indians could be hiding around any bend in the path or any number of trees waiting patiently to attack a small boy alone in the woods. Sounds of the forest at night can be soothing sometimes frightening. For Jared so far in his quest nothing of any substance had prevented him from reaching his

goal. But fate plus the elements can change almost anything tonight Jared would find out just how horrible a dark forest can be. Jared surmised that the valley of bones would be about a mile ahead even though he couldn’t see that well usually having to maneuver by what light the moon would provide. He walked farther into the foggy atmosphere that suddenly surrounded him when he saw something protruding into the path ahead of him. From his vantage point it looked like a huge rock with maybe fallen leaves somehow stuck on top. His curiosity rose higher as he got closer. He lowered the bucket to the ground while quietly sneaking up on the image. Conscious maybe his subconscious told him that something wasn’t quite right with what he presumed to be a large rock. Taking his gun from his belt he positioned it in front of him steadily walking up to the rock. The image of a rock had been wrong. In fact it wasn’t organic at all it turned out to be a human body, The body from what he could see looked a lot like Aero’s. It had been partially picked apart by what Jared assumed were the animals of the forest. Upon gazing at this crumbled up sight of what used to be a live breathing individual Jared lost what little stomach contents he had onto the cold wet ground. He turned back around sitting on the muddied dirt trying to figure out why Aero died besides when it happened. After a few moments he gained enough courage to walk over turn the dead body on it’s back. It took some time but eventually it faced toward the sky. Jared had guessed right—Aero’s body lay in front of him. Aero’s face and the rest of his body that had touched the ground were fairly well preserved. Moving his hands over Aero’s chest he discovered the reason for his death part of an arrow protruded from his chest. It had been bent almost to point of breaking but still in tact. Aero’s body had begun although ever so slowly the process of decaying. The sight of flesh being dissolved was almost too much for Jared to take. He tumbled back onto the path trying to upchuck. Jared knew that he had to get away from this scene fast or he’d soon be too afraid to move that isn’t good at night in a forest with so much death and destruction emanating from almost every tree or turn in the road. The chill of the night wind had started through the forest hitting Jared like a brick wall. He shivered looking at the water barrel as an idea struck his fertile mind. He seized the barrel turned it over and climbed into the empty hole the upside down container had created. It proved to be somewhat warmer than the freezing cold just beyond the banded wood. The only problem appeared to be that of not being able to see anything. The barrel was built well-no gaps

between the boards were visible. This made for a particularly dark environment. Only one thing wrong with this small new home Jared had made the ground began to become colder. He couldn’t jump up and freeze movement in mid-air to prevent his boots and feet from feeling the wrath of cold ground beneath him so Jared decided that crawling up into a ball might make him feel warmer. Maybe he’d be safe from the so-called new family he’d inherited, at least for a little while. He didn’t know how long he would stay hidden in this barrel, but was sure that sooner or later either Matilda or Jake would come looking for him—he didn’t want that-especially if Jake found him. Something about the thought of Jake finding him created goose bumps all over his arms. “Aw… Shit!” he shouted. “I’d better get going. The sooner I get the water the sooner I can go back into the house and get warm.” Jared pushed his fingers underneath the edge of the barrel lifted as hard as he could—nothing happened. He tried again and again nothing! “Damn it!” what’s wrong with me? I know it can’t be that heavy, I was carrying it just a few minutes ago.” He tried again—nothing! “Damn! Damn! Damn it! What the hell is happening here?” Then he realized that he wasn’t pulling on the barrel but a piece of wagon wheel that had been partially buried. “Aw… Shit! Jared you stupid idiot!” Now he felt around the ground to make sure that he had hold of the barrel’s top banded rim and slowly lifted the barrel back then moved out into the path while letting the barrel drop at the same time. It seemed like the chill of the night had gotten worse although he didn’t see how that was possible—it was freezing now so how could it get colder? He thought about the temperature change then dismissed the thought as unnecessary while nabbing the barrel to set it upright seized it around the middle band and lifted it to comfortable carrying height. “Well here I go again.” He thought as he headed out on the path toward his goal. The night chill with the swiftly twirling breeze helped eliminate the fog that had plagued him earlier. Now his vision had improved somewhat considering the time of night. He set the barrel down pulling his jacket that he’d retrieved from the house tight to his chest. Jared continued traveling down the path until he reached the valley of bones. Seeing the bones in the moonlight presented an eerie feeling to Jared’s soul. It’s as if the bones had come to life dancing in the moonlight. Jared knew that wasn’t the case eventually discovering that when he moved one way or the other the moonlight made the bones appear to dance. He set the barrel down on the ground not realizing that the ground had a slight slope and as soon as the barrel hit the ground it tipped rolling straight down into the

bones knocking some of the bright white sections of the dead around like a cannonball hitting a house. Emotions had been drained along with his strength. He took one step down toward retrieving the barrel slipped tumbling over rocks and brush following the path of the barrel ending up hitting the side of the barrel with his back while a multitude of loose bones fell down upon his body. Minutes ed as Jared lay there unconscious. Darkness began to lighten to a muddy gray. Birds began to sing their morning song as the leaves from numerous trees started to wave while the breeze of a new day touched each one as it ed on its way toward the west coast. The soft gentle wind seemed to be insistent on cleaning up the valley leaving no broken twigs old paper or any kind of unpleasant item littering the basin floor. It looked like God’s hand directed the pattern of the air so that a new beginning to a new day was fresh and clean. About a half hour after the breeze finished it’s task some light flakes of brown earth flew up like a small tornado jumping out of the tree line. Behind this minitornado Clyde could be seen on his horse slapping the reins from one side to the other. He’d ridden the horse hard. From the looks of his clothes he’d been up all night or had a rough ride through the woods. Clyde appeared on the small top of the slanted ground jerking his horse to a quick stop thereby releasing more earth flakes into the air so much soared up twirling around that it obscured him and his horse for a small time. Clyde dismounted waved the dirty air away then scanned the area. Nothing! He gazed at the ground in front of him not being able to see the path that Jared and the barrel had taken. The brown earth had covered the path so as to keep Clyde looking while Jared escaped. Clyde was stunned to see so many bones in one spot that created a burning desire to investigate but knew his task at hand would prevent that. Finding Jared and getting the water had to be his first goal. But he didn’t know where to look. He could hear the stream nearby and knew that Jared had to be close. But the sound of water running over rocks by way of upturned ground seemed to come from every direction. “Maybe it’s the valley that’s causing this echo,” he thought but that went against everything he’d been taught in his short life. He thought for a minute then decided that he’d head out north to see what he could find knowing that Jared had to be tired by now. Soon he’d find him either resting by the stream or asleep nearby. Jumping back on his horse kicking the sides of his mount he galloped off again on his hunt. A rustling of the bones could be heard nearby. Seconds later Jared appeared from under a pile of bones.

“Oh Shit!” he said as he become aware of the new morning suns rays softly pelting his body. “They’ll be sending someone out after me soon if they haven’t already! Shit! I’d better get going. I don’t need Jake hunting me down for not coming back to the house with water. He stood although not easily. It appears being unconscious in a valley with bones over your body doesn’t bode well for a young man’s back and legs. He shook off the bones and the pain he felt then seized the barrel once more put it on his shoulder walking up the small incline toward the stream. He hadn’t eaten in quite a while. Hunger started to be his major concern. Jared knew finding the stream wouldn’t be a problem he could hear it rambling over hills and brush so it was close. Now he needed food to quell his hunger. Familiarity with this valley and the type of fruits that may be growing close by was something he had yet to gain. The desire for food surged harder stronger within him. It had to be satisfied first if at all possible. The rays of heat penetrating the woods from above made his journey to find the stream much easier. He noticed that there were bushes with bright yellow flowers and a fruit of some kind at the base of almost every tree he ed. He stopped by one tree placed the barrel on the ground while he studied the bush especially the fruit. Starvation began dictating is actions. Jared swiped one of the round maroon colored pieces of fruit and took a small bite out of it. It was good but very sweet which made his desire for water greater than his current desire for food. However, the taste of the fruit made him want more of the delicacy. He sat down with his back to a tree getting piece after piece of the fruit until his belly was full. Now his need for water had intensified but he didn’t move toward the stream he just sat there. Waiting for his stomach to devour the morsels so that he could move more freely proved painful with a bloated belly. Something odd began to happen. Jared began to see the sky changing. It started with a bright orange tint slowly turning to gray, blue, black, and back to orange. “Wow… this is wild!” he said to himself while enjoying the multitude of colors that came before him. Somehow he wasn’t afraid but surprised at how the sky had changed so much in just a few minutes. Jared thought that maybe in this time of year in this place the sky changes colors as a normal activity and that it wasn’t dangerous to anyone. He glanced down at the earth near his body and jumped up. The earth was moving. It sat solid one minute and moved as though someone where shaking it the next minute. It’s color changed just like the sky had changed. The flowers plus the bush he’d seen and had eaten from grew larger until it was twice the size of his body. Then it happened. An amazing event so strange and unusual that Jared shook in fear. The bush started talking to

Jared. What it said wasn’t clear but it’s voice stood out as a sound that Jared had never heard and never wanted to hear again. It sounded like the growl of a mad dog combined with the roar of another creature along with the subdued sound of a bird in flight. Jared covered his ears and began walking backward falling over the barrel in the process. He quickly stood upright noticing that the bush had moved. Now it sat on the other side of the barrel. It had grown to encircle any way out that Jared might have taken. The bush encircled him as it grew more in both size and shape. It had stopped talking also the flowers that had been so colorful earlier were now changing into eyes, cold, black eyes, with a maroon liquid slowly oozing from each side of both eyes. Jared’s fear seized hold of him so strongly that he couldn’t move his legs. He looked for a way out an opening that he could crawl through to safety—but none could be found. The bush started to grow again closing in on Jared. He screamed while his eyes closed. When he opened them again the bush had returned to its original shape but Jared still couldn’t move his legs. He bent down to try to force movement from the limbs that stood straight and strong. It felt as if his legs had turned to stone. No matter how hard he tried nothing happened. Jared felt a presence behind him. He understood almost in the same moment that he had to move. He had to get away from whatever was behind him so he forced all his strength into moving his legs. Jared looked around again and saw that—it was a tree. An immense tree taller than any tree he’d ever seen. Although this tree was extremely tall it had legs, two human legs, walking toward Jared. He noticed that the tree was actually part man and part tree, The lower half of it was the body of a man—in fact it looked remarkably like Jake’s body complete with holster two guns and those unusual boots. Screams of horror erupted through the forest as Jared raised all the power he could and broke free of whatever had his legs. He ran still looking backward as he ran while the tree followed him. It gained ground quickly. Jared couldn’t run fast enough to escape it. Soon the tree was within a foot of Jared. Seconds later Jared felt a sharp stinging sensation throughout his body as darkness closed in on him. Shortly thereafter he couldn’t feel anything not even a breath of life. “Aw… help… help get me out of here!” he said over and over until he noticed that he’d regained his senses and perceived that he had been placed back on the ground in a sitting position, leaning against the tree, while his pursuer had vanished. The sky had returned to normal as the bush had been brought back to normal again. He did see that someone had thrown up all over his pants along with the ground around him. Upon further investigation Jared discovered that the elements that

made up the partially dissolved contents of a stomach were maroon in color plus a few of the maroon pieces hadn’t dissolved and were complete in substance and shape. “Ick… that’s mine! I threw up. What… what happened? It must have been a bad dream. It must have been those berries I ate. They probably didn’t agree with me and maybe made me have a bad dream. It has to be that nothing else makes sense.” Jared took some twigs lying nearby brushed off as much of the expelled stomach contents as possible then threw them away took the barrel and walked to the river which was about a half-mile down from his current position. He sensed that someone not the half-man half-tree thing followed him but not close by. Jared kept looking over his left shoulder as he walked. The sun had risen slightly over the horizon line while it lit up the forest. This made it easier for Jared to see motion within the tree line and also made it easier for him to run should such a sight reveal evil instead of good. By now the barrel had its effect on Jared. Sweat poured down his face. Only seventeen years had ed he didn’t have the body of a man his stamina had been depleted enough to garner his attention thus making him strive for more strength. The sounds of the forest came to life; birds singing in the trees also the closer he got to the river the louder the sound of water echoed through the forest. His feet especially his toes were feeling the effect of walking long distances by starting to rub against his boots as a red twinge grew on his ankles and toes. Soon these skin attributes would change into blisters that would scrape and burst almost every time he placed one foot in front of the other. The river rock’s glistening peaks caught his attention although the heat from the sun could have been playing tricks on him as he walked. Charles had told him of situations where someone that had been out of water and food for quite a while could see things that weren’t there. Jared thought about what his father had said subsequently dismissing it thinking that he hadn’t been out of food and water for long and that the glistening water ahead could indeed be the river he’d been searching for. Despite his weathered face the heat grew in intensity as he walked. “This isn’t right.” he thought, “This is a relatively cold climate this time of year, at least that’s what I’ve read. It’s not a desert climate right now the sun shouldn’t be that strong or bright. “Hell! It’s probably just me! Maybe the berries I ate made me feel hotter than normal.” He stopped, put the barrel on the ground and wiped his wet forehead with his right hand. It didn’t seem much hotter than

normal, but then again he didn’t know how hot his forehead should be under these conditions, so that didn’t help much. Leaves rustling in the woods got his attention. “It must be Jake. There’s no wind so it must be Jake.” Jared seized the barrel crawling up to the tree line, found some bushes that would cover him, slipped under them as he dragged the barrel behind him. Minutes later he had hidden himself and the barrel. More leaves rustled nearby. He sat as still as possible peering through a gap between branches while he watched a figure on a horse slowly gallop toward his hiding place. He couldn’t tell if it were Jake or Clyde the figure was too far away all he could see was a shadow that, from time to time, would reveal parts of the man and horse as sunlight eased through the branches of the trees. “Jake… it’s got to be Jake,” he said quietly, “If he finds me he’ll whip me till the cows come home… that’s what dad would do and Jake is a lot tougher than dad.” The wind that had been dormant a few minutes earlier reared its head making the branches weave back and forth, it also made the bush that Jared hid under swerve back and forth, revealing Jared plus the barrel in short shots of light. “Shit! . . . he’ll find me for sure if this keeps up! Damn it! Stop blowing wind—stop it!” His communication with the wind didn’t work as it grew in power. What Jared didn’t notice is that the wind blew away from him into the path the man on horseback making visibility for the rider much harder. Because of the direction of the wind the shadow figure moved away from his path in a different direction. Jared tried to watch his predator but couldn’t see much of anything past about five feet. The wind had generated such a twirling vibrant mass that nothing of much consequence could be visible in any direction. Jared hunched down hoping that the wind would stop and the stalker would ride off and not come close to his hiding place. It took about three minutes for the gusts of air to subside. When they did the forest implied a sense of renewed life. The tempest had done a wonderful job of eliminating the threat to Jared. All his thoughts of harm were reduced to a dull nudge. Jared brushed off some debris on his clothes seized the barrel venturing toward the river. Within a few minutes he knew, based on what had happened, that his trip would take longer than he’d planned. He noticed that part of one of the bands on the barrel had come loose. He would have to repair it soon or the barrel would be useless. Jared didn’t know the first thing about how to repair a barrel but knew he had to try. The prospect of not getting any water in addition to the threat of his stalker returning dwelled on his mind so much that he couldn’t escape the thought that his adventure to the river would not turn out well and he’d have to suffer the wrath of Jake.

He put the barrel down while beginning the process of looking for something that would be strong enough to reattach the band to the wood of the barrel. Going into the forest would not be easy but Jared thought that the forest would hold what he needed to fix the barrel. Jared wasn’t sure what he’d find in his search hoping desperately it wasn’t Jake. In searching the forest he sensed that he would be safe at least for a few moments. He brushed each bush with his hands as he walked hoping to find something strong enough for the task at hand. After walking for about a half mile he came across a valley with trees that were not the same evergreen trees he’d been hiding in earlier. These trees were thicker in diameter with something on their trunks. Jared walked over to one of them and noticed that the substance on the trees was sap, very sticky and tough. “This would be perfect!” he thought. Trying to find something to gather the sap with wasn’t the easiest thing to do. “Nothing! There’s nothing here!” Then it hit him like someone slapping him on the side of his head—“Get the barrel and bring it here!” Jared turned swiftly running back toward the barrel. After his jaunt through the forest again reaching the object of his sprint, he realized that he’d forgotten about the stalker-that wasn’t good. He took the barrel, placed it on his shoulder slowly walking back to the tree. He watched ever movement the branches made, listened to every sound the forest made, all the while thinking about ways to escape should he confront Jake. In this forest the trees are bunched together so that very little room is between them, a situation that didn’t allow for a speedy retreat. However, Jared wasn’t very big and a bush had hidden him and the barrel before, who knows maybe another bush, or even the short distance between trees could afford him sanctuary. The trip back took much longer than the trip to the tree putting a strain on Jared’s shoulder. He had to stop a few times to rest and gather strength. This bothered him greatly. He had to fill the barrel with water then carry it, which undoubtedly would be twice or maybe three times as heavy back to the house. Plus, he hadn’t seen the rider in quite a while which made him more uneasy. The forest could easily hide someone on horseback especially the further one went inside. Any moment now Jared expected to see Jake come galloping out from behind one of the trees, pull him up to his saddle with one hand spanking the living daylights out of him with the other. A prospect Jared surmised would be very real and inevitable unless something drastic happened. By now Jared had rested enough and had walked close to the sap-giving tree. No sign of anyone else around the valley it was wide open, except for a few of those trees that dotted the landscape. Jared could see most of the valley. It would be

easy to see if anyone came for him. He stopped by one tree scratched at some of the sap with a knife he’d hidden in his back pocket. The sap had the density of thick syrup. It took a lot of muscle to get any part of it loose. When he did finally get part of it free from it’s home, he found it sticking to his knife as well as his right hand. “Well this will surely hold the band to the barrel if I can get the damn stuff off my hand!” He found a rather substantial stick near the base of the tree, took it with his left hand trying to scrape the gooey stuff off of his hand. Jared worked with the sap, stick and the barrel. Finally able to get a strong, snug fit he rubbed his hands in some dirt to try to clean the remaining sap from his hands. Time loomed overhead as though it were waiting for Jared to finish his task before going on with the rest of the day. Jared lifted, although not easily, the barrel putting it on his shoulder. The repair job that he had completed worked well except for the sap that seeped out from under the band and stuck to the wood, the band was holding the barrel in tact and Jared knew it would hold the water. Now the only threat was that of Jake or whoever stalked him. Still he felt as though he were being watched or studied by another presence nearby but he couldn’t worry about that right now the priority had to be getting the water then traveling back to the house. Jared gazed up toward the sun, while covering his eyes with the one free hand and theorized that about half the day had ed. He’d spent way too long getting the water trouble would be here soon. Thoughts of why there weren’t any Indian’s around tumbled endlessly in his mind. There were a lot of them back at the house but none—absolutely none-here or any place other than the house and the forest that surrounded the house. Jared had walked at least a mile to get the water then the trip to get the sap. Now he had finished the repairs but still no Indian’s anywhere, just the stalker or maybe that wasn’t real, maybe he’d dreamt that too. “Hell, maybe I’m dreaming this whole thing and I’m dead. Maybe when I rolled down the hill and hit the bones one of them or all of them struck my head and I’m dead! Na, that’s not possible. How could I see all this and be dead. Oh… shit! Maybe that guy on horseback isn’t Jake, maybe it’s the devil come to take me down… down there. But, why would he be riding a horse? That doesn’t make sense. No… I’m not dead! Just tired and maybe my mind is playing tricks on me. Nope… can’t be! No devil rides a horse, and if it were the devil why didn’t he just grab me and take me down there. Na, I’m alive, just tired that’s all.”

Jared had made it to the river while talking and thinking and now bent down pulled the barrel off starting to fill it with water. “Now this will be the test. The test will be if I can handle the barrel full of water. It shouldn’t be that bad. After all I carried it about a mile so filling it with water shouldn’t make it that much heavier than it is now. And hey, I’m still young—I can do it! No problem at all. Unless… unless I run into Indian’s or the stalker then I’ll have problems.” The barrel filled up quite nicely. A smile grew on Jared’s face noticing that no leaks were present. His makeshift repair held, but he didn’t know for how long, so speed would be of the essence if he were to get the water back without losing any of it. “Shit! They’ve probably found enough water or something else to drink by now. Hell… I’m probably wasting my time with all this. But then again, maybe not.” He lifted the barrel. The weight of the water made it slip from his hands. The wood and silver bands shook as it hit the ground with a loud thud as part of the water went up and over the lip of the barrel onto the ground. “Damn! . . . this is gonna be harder than I thought!” Jared sat down on the ground near the barrel to catch his breath gathering a few handfuls of water from the stream to quench is thirst. “Huh… guess I’m not as strong as I thought.” A few minutes . “I’m wasting time. I’ve got to get this water back and fast.” From behind him came a voice, a voice he hadn’t heard very often. but one that scared him more than the fact that someone was behind him. He jumped up while turning around. Jared found himself face-to-face with Clyde. “Oh… oh shit! You sacred the crap out of me! Where did you come from?” “I’ve been following you to see what happened to you. Ma was getting worried about you and sent me to look for you.” “Where you in the woods earlier?” “Huh, I’ve been in them woods pert near all morning trying to find you. I hope you know you’re way back to your house. I’m not sure I’d know how to get back on my own.”

“I… I think so, but how come Jake didn’t come after me? I thought he’d be after me for taking so long.” “Ah… pa… he’s… he went hunting for more food and asked me to come get you.” “But… didn’t you just say that your ma was worried about me and sent you after me?” “I did? Oh… yeah I did. This forest got the better of me and I must have just said ma because she’s usually the one that tells me what needs to be done, pa doesn’t say much to me.” Jared sensed that he was lying but didn’t want to cause more problems than necessary, for the time being anyway. “Oh… okay,” replied Jared, just waiting for Clyde to do something stupid. “C’mon kid, grab that barrel and let’s get going.” Jared swiftly secured the barrel and started walking. “Aren’t you gonna let me ride with you?” “Not now kid, Just start walking!” “But it’ll be faster if you let me ride with you.” “Shut up kid and just start walking… No wait, start running… yeah start running, that will make up some time boy. Just start running!” “But if I run the water will spill out then I’ll have to stop and fill it up again. That would make the trip back longer. You don’t want your Ma getting mad at you do you? The frustration on Clyde’s face was obvious and he knew the boy was right, but didn’t want to it that a small boy was smarter than he was, so he said, “Just… just do what I say boy! Mind your manners boy!” Jared started running and just as he said, the water spilled out from the lip of the barrel afterward the barrel tipped and fell.

“What’s that matter with you boy? Can’t you carry a simple water barrel?” Clyde stopped his horse, dismounted and seized Jared by the collar, lifted him up and said. “You fill that barrel up again and be quick about it! You’ve wasted enough time here! And this time, you make it right! Find something to put over the top of that thing so no water comes out when you start walking again… you here me boy?” “Yes… yes sir Jake.” Jared dropped to the ground as Clyde released his grip. “Be fast about it boy! Or you’re gonna get the whipping of your life! You understand me boy! Jared shakily replied, “Yes… yes sir.” He’d had enough of this jerk telling him what to do, and started to hatch a plan to get away from him, get his sister and run away from this family and their bullying attitude. He knew that he’d have to do something so outrageous that Clyde would never expect it from a seventeenyear old boy. He crawled over to the barrel, secured some dirt and threw it up in the face of Clyde. Jared had been used to riding a horse and tried to jump up on Clyde’s horse. His first attempt failed he tumbled down on top of Clyde. As Clyde started to get up Jared took the barrel while using all his might lifted it up, turned it over then dropped it on top of Clyde. Clyde Looked liked his head was made out of a barrel and fortunately for Jared the barrel was small it stuck on Clyde’s head like a cat getting their head stuck in a bottle. Jared had to laugh at Clyde’s situation as he tried again this time succeeded in mounting Clyde’s horse. “That’ll teach you, you asshole!” Jared said,” as he galloped away from, as he would later refer to it later, “The Incident at Bone Valley River.” Jared was now more scared than ever before, he’d managed to stop Clyde from beating him along with escaping from his grasp but somehow, along with the fear, he became elated that he had outsmarted a grown man literally three times his size. That didn’t last. Other obstacles were left to overcome, outrunning Clyde and trying to get his sister away from what remained of Clyde’s family, plus surviving without his mother and father would prove to be extremely hard on Jared. Jared rode the horse hard but it didn’t seem to be going as fast as he would like! He had to get back to the house to save his sister from the family he’d happen to come in with just one day earlier. Jared had to make a life for himself and his sister and make it a good one, or they’d perish before they had a chance to experience what life was all about. The concept of having a family, or starting

a family was new and an awkward concept for Jared to grasp. Although he hadn’t had much of a childhood and had to grow up very fast, longing for just being able to be a kid and not be concerned with the daily activities of an adult kept clawing its way to his consciousness. Why should a boy of seventeen be subjected to all this strife and horror? None of the children he had grown up with had this much trouble growing up. Why had Jared Street been subjected to all of the torment and tribulations that were rearing their ugly head? “Why did Dad bring us out here?” Why couldn’t we have stayed back home? I was happy there. I had friends besides life was much more relaxed. Damn it! Why did dad have to bring us out here?” Jared stopped the gallop dismounted then pulled the reins of the horse behind him while he walked over to a tree. He tied the reins of the horse to a bush and sat down. “Why me? Why on earth did I get chosen for all this shit!” I don’t deserve this!” tears erupted filling his shirt then tumbling down onto his pants. He gazed into the sky while wiping the tears from his face asking, “Dear God, why have you forgotten me? What have I done to warrant this? I’m just a boy. I can’t handle all of this. I need strength and I don’t have it!” Why me Lord? Why me?” Jared soon slipped off to sleep. A subdued sun bathed him it it’s afternoon rays of burnt umber and golden brown. That effect created a blonde image of a boy sitting against a tree, almost like a statue. Jared laid there not moving a muscle for at least three hours. By now Matilda besides the girls had decided that they would go out in search of the rest of their families. They had dressed in their traveling clothes, mounted the wagon and headed out, leaving the house empty again. Jared awoke, realized that a lot of time had ed, mounted the horse and tried kicking the sides of it to make it gallop away at a blinding speed. His legs weren’t long enough to make a definite impact on the horse’s movement. The speed with which the horse traveled wasn’t fast enough no matter how much Jared tried to motivate the horse. Fearing of the prospect of Clyde being able to find him, or that if somehow Clyde were to get close enough he may have a command that he would use to turn the horse around and head back to him, thereby bringing Jared right back into the hands of the person that caused of all his current problems. Jared thought for a minute, then pulled the horse to a stop, dismounted—although rather haphazardly—and smacked the rear of horse. “I’ll do better on my own,” he theorized, “At least I can use my size to my advantage. Being small I could hide behind bushes and maybe get the drop on him again. The only problem is getting back to the house taking Kamile out of there without getting into more trouble with Matilda, and to do it before Clyde gets back.

Jared started running. After sprinting almost to exhaustion a view of the house between waving branches became clear. Gathering what little strength he could Jared made it to his destination. As the boy approached the small clearing in front of the house he noticed that only his wagon was staged out front. Matilda and the girls had left. “Oh Shit! Kamile!” Jared tripped over almost every rock or depression on the path to the bone house. Securing the door he bolted in and made a frantic search for Kamile. “Kammy… sweetie, where are you?” Nothing returned to his ears. Again, “Kammy, where are you? It’s Jared. I’ve come to get you out of here. Where are you sweetie?” A muffled noise echoed from the demolished bedroom. Jared rushed over and started throwing all the bones and whatever he could lift out of the room into the living room. Seconds past as nothing, no evidence of Kamile could be found. “Kammy honey, you’re scaring me, where are you?” Another sound similar to the voice he just heard batted Jared’s ears. “I know you’re close honey just keep talking louder so I can find you.” Now the sound came more prominent to his ears. Jared now knew where it came from. Somehow Kammy had managed to squeeze herself under the bed. The opening wasn’t very big, but her body was just small enough to fit within the space. “Kammy! Thank God, you’re alright!” he tried to seize her hand and drag her out, but she started screaming. “What? What is it Kammy? “My legs caught. I think the bed moved and it fell down on me. Get me out of here Jare I’m scared. I don’t like it here! Get me out!” “I’m trying sweetie, I’m trying!” He struggled to free her leg but it wouldn’t budge. “Damn Kammy, it’s really wedged in there!” “You can get me out, can’t you Jare? I’m scared!” “I’ll get you out, don’t worry. How’d you get yourself in this mess anyway?” “I don’t know. I was playing hide and seek with the girls and it was my turn to hide. The next thing I know I don’t hear anything. I think the girls left. “Where did they… Ow, that hurt Jare.”

“Sorry sweetie, I’m just trying to free your leg.” “Where did they go Jare. I was having so much fun and all of a sudden I’m here and can’t get out.” “Ah… I don’t know honey. Look I’m going to get something to pry the bed off of you. Now you be good, don’t go anywhere.” “Go anywhere? I can’t I’m stuck! You sure you’re okay Jare?” “Huh, oh yeah, I’m fine, just trying to think things through, you know.” “Okay, but you come right back Jare!” “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’m just going out and look around the house for something. I’ll still be here, just outside. So be calm and I’ll be right back, alright? “Okay Jare, hurry back.” Jared stumbled through the mass of destroyed property and bones understanding as he walked out of the bedroom that the bones of the old woman were gone. He turned around, moved to one side of the opening, so Kamile wouldn’t see him and gazed at the room. “Damn! How could they have disappeared?” he whispered, “Huh, maybe the rain we had earlier washed them away. I can’t worry about them now!” Jared quickly ran outside to trying desperately to find something that would pry the bed from Kamile. He searched in front of the house—nothing—on the side—nothing then he went back to the graves behind the house and stared at the crosses. “Maybe, just maybe,” he thought, “I could use one of those crosses. Take one of the pieces of the cross using that as leverage. I don’t think the dead would mind, after all I’m going to bring it back and replace the cross just as I left it—that should work.” The shade from the trees beyond the graves covered them like a warm blanket in the winter. The boy was about to yank one of the crosses out when he felt warmth on the back of his neck. It was obvious that the warmth he sensed wasn’t from the sun it was too early in the morning for heat from the sun. He turned and was hit in the face by a blinding light. Stumbling over the graves Jared managed to get out of the light following its track backward with his eyes and up to the shed on the hill. Light poured out of the shed as if one hundred candles were lit inside. A mind is a

unique thing, sometimes it works well, and sometimes… well it just works. This time Jared’s mind thought that this had to be a trick of some kind. “Clyde could be hiding in the shed, just waiting for the door to open and grab me as I walked in. But then there could be something in the shed better than a cross I could use to free Kammy, and the light may just be the way the sun hit the window, I can’t tell from here.” Against his better judgment Jared started up toward the shed hoping that it wasn’t a trick and that he’d find what he was looking for. Upon reaching the old, wood-warn, ramshackle, remnant of what used to be a nice container for tools and hay, Jared searched around the shed for any sign of Clyde or anyone that might be hiding inside. Footsteps were slow deliberate as he walked forward looking inside each window he came upon. Nothing! Clyde wasn’t inside and the interior sat empty aside from the hearse, the hay littered floor, and some tools lying up against one of the walls. Jared went back to the front door and opened it gently, slowly. Creaking wood could be heard so loud that Jared thought the dead themselves would awake and come after him for disturbing their sleep. Surveying the area below the shed Jared didn’t see any movement at all. In fact nothing moved or made a sound. It could have been a painting. The boy entered the shed quietly walking to the wall where he’d seen the tools. The tools were well used, almost to the point of being useless to anyone, but they were tools and Jared needed something to free his little sister. After looking at the tools intensely a turf cutter caught his attention, just the kind of tool that would work to free Kamile. He took the tool and headed toward the door when the wooden handle became so hot he had to drop it or it would burn his hand. As it fell into the strands of hay that covered the floor, Jared noticed that the color of the blade turned from red-hot back to gray, then a strange thing happened. The head of the shovel began to bow and bend in different shapes, almost as if an unseen hand were bending it over a fire. Minutes later the movement stopped. Jared saw that something had been carved into the head. He bent down looking at the figure as it finished creating itself. When Jared saw the image in the head of the shovel he jumped back falling over another tool that had been knocked off the wall when all this began. Jared stood up slowly then walked back to the head of the shovel. He gazed at the image. Tears cupped on his face then burst into a running race to the bottom of his chin tenderly dropping onto the hay floor. “Mm… Ma… Mom?” He’d seen his mother’s face being carved into the shovelhead by someone or something invisible to him. Jared dropped to his knees crying constantly. As the

tears flowed his thoughts turned to what he’d seen and how it could have happened. Touching the blade of the shovel revealed that it still contained heat. This wasn’t a dream but reality a reality Jared did not want to face. Tears kept coming as the despair and wanting for his mother increased. But he had a job to complete—he had to rescue his sister and keep her safe-his mother wanted him to protect his little sister. Jared stood erect, wiped the tears from his face and secured the shovel. As he walked out of the shed he heard the sound of horses hooves eagerly racing toward the house. Now there was no time to loose, he had to get back to free Kamile before Clyde reached the house. Jared ran like he never ran before nothing would stand in his way. The purpose of his flight became stronger he just had to beat the eminent prospect of terror that he knew would soon arrive at the house. Hoof sounds were still penetrating his ears as he ran into the house over to Kamile. “Bout time you got back Jare, I was getting scared!” “I told you I’d be back, now I’ve got to get you out of here and fast!” “Fast? Why fast Jare? Is someone coming? “Yes… I think so and I’m not sure who it is, so I’ve got to get both of us out of here before they get here.” Jared took the shovel inserted it between the bed and a wooden cabinet that had been knocked over and lay underneath the bed near Kamile. The power it took to make the bed rise proved to be quite a feat for Jared, but he did succeed and Kamile crawled out clumsily running into the living room. Jared let the shovel go and it fell helplessly into a small puddle of water on the floor. The boy then took off into the living room, seized Kamile and headed back out through the destroyed bedroom into the woods nearby. They turned hunched down behind a bush and waited for the rider of the horse to enter. The door swung open. Jared was surprised to see that it was an Indian and not Clyde that entered the house. This Indian looked like he’d been riding for hours and wasn’t happy. His clothes were tattered and torn, much like someone who’s been in a bad fight barely escaping with his life. But this Indian wasn’t hunting for white men, it appeared as if his only desire was that of food. He saw some leftovers from the meal that Matilda had prepared and downed them so fast that Jared thought he’d upchuck at any minute.

Kamile was about to yell at the Indian, when Jared covered her mouth with his hand. “Sh… we don’t want him to find us. He’ll kill us for sure if he knows were here. Be quiet Kammy, alright?” Kamile shook her head as Jared removed his hand but almost immediately started to ask Jared a question. The Indian heard her talking and looked in the direction of the two children. Jared covered Kamile with his body and whispered, “Sh… don’t move, maybe he won’t see us… sh.” The Indian stared out at the area for a few seconds then turned around and went back to eating. It occurred to Jared, when he turned back around, that the Indians’ attention is garnered toward filling his stomach more than anything else. Although the Indian sat down and continued eating the leftovers, Jared didn’t feel it was safe to move, so the two of them just sat there watching the Indian eat. Watching someone eat isn’t the most thrilling thing to do, especially for a ten-year old girl, she was getting anxious for more action. Her leg had a slight cut as a result of crawling out from under the bed now it kept her busy as she tried to help the healing process by licking her finger and rubbing it over the wound. Jared watched as the Indian finished the food and began to look for more. He seemed agitated when he didn’t find any more food throwing pots and pans all over the living room. Feeling that the Indian might start to hunt for food outside the house, Jared took Kamile by the hand and moved to a bush that grew up from the edge of the tree line. Jared figured that if the Indian saw them, they’d have a better chance of escaping if they didn’t have to deal with navigating trees and shrubs in the woods. When Jared and Kamile became settled he grabbed his gun and opened the chamber—one bullet left. That discovery made Jared smile. He thought that he used all of the bullets. Now at least, he’d have some protection if they did have to run for their lives. Kamile and Jared watched the Indian tear up the house looking for food but when he walked into the destroyed bedroom something odd began to happen. The Indian began shaking and sweating profusely. It’s almost as if he’d been scared by something so evil it took away his ability to resist. Soon Jared and Kamile could hear the screams of a man in tremendous pain. What seemed odd to Jared is that the Indian’s hands began to dissolve as his blood ran out of each section that dissolved. Within minutes his whole body dissolved into air, nothing remained of what once was undoubtedly a proud Indian. Jared, looking at the horror take place, covered Kamile’s eyes and made sure she didn’t see what was happening. After it completed it’s course, whatever took the Indian’s life so violently, started to dissolve everything in the bedroom. Now Kamile watched along with Jared.

“What? What is that Jare? What’s happening down there?” Jared couldn’t take his eyes off the invisible creature that had a thirst for everything within its grasp and said silently, “I don’t know sweetie, but whatever it is, I wouldn’t want to be down there.” Soon the bedroom disappeared from view. The only things that were left were the walls to the rest of the house. What used to be the bedroom with the skeletons and damaged furniture was now just dirt for a floor with bone walls. Kamile had been holding on to Jared’s arm so tight that when he noticed her hand he quickly removed it from his arm leaving small red finger and handprints. “Jare… I really don’t like it here. Can we please leave now! Please!” “I’ll do my best sweetie to get us out of here and fast. I don’t like what’s happening here either. This place isn’t right! There’s something very wrong here. I don’t want either of us to be here any longer. Jared picked Kamile up and put her on his shoulders. “Let’s get whatever was left or our stuff, in the wagon and get out of here!” Kamile tapped Jared’s head and said, “Okey doky Jared, I’m with you—out of here we go—and fast.” The two children made it to the house were in the process of gathering some of their things when Jared happened to look out the front window and saw movement in the forest. He secured Kamile and took her into the only bedroom left. He shut the door behind them then got down on his knees and slowly opened the door just wide enough to see if anyone came into the house. There was a loud, “bang,” then the door flew open followed by another Indian carrying two scalps. From Jared’s point of view it looked like the clothes Matilda had been wearing. The Indian also wore a hat that looked remarkably like Clyde’s hat. Jared realized what had happened to Clyde and Matilda. As Jared watched the Indian the two girls of Jake and Matilda were pushed inside. They had been beaten and tied together by their hands. Another Indian followed them inside. The two Indians greeted each other and danced around in a circle while the girls just stood there frozen in fear. One of the girls happened to see Jared peering out from the bedroom. Jared also saw her. She nudged the other girls and motioned for them to look over at the bedroom. Jared brought his finger to his lips. The girls understood feeling a slithering of relief. The Indians finished their dance while one of them walked over to the girls, grabbed some hair of one of them and wanted to get another scalp when the other Indian motioned for him to follow him into what used to be a bedroom. Jared hoped the same thing that happened to the other Indian would happen to these two. One Indian entered the room soon afterward he began to shake violently. The other Indian jumped back and drew his tomahawk from his belt.

He watched as his brother dissolve in front of his eyes. The only thing left of the Indian was his tomahawk that lay on the ground. The remaining Indian looked back at the girls, then back at the tomahawk that lay just beyond his reach. He bent down crawling toward the entrance to the room. Gingerly he moved his hand inside the room swiftly securing the tomahawk. As the Indian turned back around Jared could see the anger in his eyes surmising that he believed that the girls had something to do with his brother Indians demise. As the Indian started to go after the girls Jared opened the door and yelled, “Stop, don’t you hurt those girls!” The Indian turned staring at Jared as if he’d never seen as small boy. A wry smile appeared on his face as he raised his hand about to throw the tomahawk when there was a popping sound. The Indian looked at his chest then at Jared and dropped the tomahawk falling to his knees and eventually hitting the floor. Jared had used his last bullet, Kamile and the two girls would now be part of his family-he couldn’t just abandon them now-that would be cruel, plus he’d been through enough hatred and anger and didn’t want them to go through the same thing. He walked over to the girls and untied them. Both of them hugged Jared and kissed him on the check while saying, “Thank you… thank you so much. We would have died if it wasn’t for you… thank you. What… what’s you’re name?” “Jared, it’s Jared Street.” “Jared, that’s right, I couldn’t . Ma told us you’re name when we were here last, weren’t you supposed to be getting water for us?” “Well… yeah I was, but it didn’t work out. Look we’ve got to get out of here and away from this house. This is a very strange house and I don’t want to be here much longer.” “I second that,” said the girls in unison. “My name’s Jennifer and this is my sister Casmin.” “Nice to meet you, but we have to leave this house. C’mon I think our wagon is still out front. We can use that to get away.” “What happened to that Indian in the room?” asked Jennifer as the four of them

gathered up some of the things left in the house they would need. “That’s why I want to get out of here—I don’t know and I don’t care, I just want to be away from this place!” Jared led the girls out to the wagon where they threw the belongings they’d gathered into the wagon. Jared climbed into the riders seat as Jennifer followed him. “What are you doing up here? You should be with the rest of the girls in back.” “Jared honey, I’m not letting you out of my sight. Any boy that can kill and Indian with one shot is someone I’m going to stay close to. Now don’t you think you’d better get a move on?” Jared felt a tinge of emotion as he looked into her pearl blue eyes. He’d never felt this way before shrugging it off as being nervous about meeting girls. He snapped the reins and the horses started a slow gallop. “Shouldn’t those horses be fed and watered,” ask Jennifer. “Don’t worry, about a mile from here is a valley and a river, plenty of water and I would imagine since there is water that there would be animals around too that we could use as food until we find some more fixing’s of our own.” “You’ve planned out everything, haven’t you Jared honey.” Jennifer gently grabbed his hand as she snuggled in close. Jared looked at her and was about to say something when she fell fast asleep. “Huh… this is strange,” he said softly, “I guess she’s just happy to be rescued from those Indian’s, I know I would if I were in her shoes.” Jared looked back into the wagon and saw that the other girl and Kamile were asleep. The boy turned back around smiling as he snapped the reins again while the foursome traveled toward the valley of bones.

Chapter 5

Bonestown History, Jared’s family evolves

Night had begun quickly along with a very cold chill in the air. Having shelter and food would have to be the most important activity for their continued survival. When he pulled the wagon to a stop they were near the bones in the valley. Jennifer woke up first, shook her hair back from her face and gazed out at the flowing river. “My word Jared honey, that is beautiful. How did you find this river?” “We… ma and pa and us found it when we were headed this way to the west. Jennifer, I wanted to ask you something and I really don’t know how, so I guess I’ll just come out and say it… do you know what happened to your family?” Jennifer began to slowly let her emotions rise as tears curved down her face onto her mouth. “Yes… the Indians got ma and Clyde but before that Clyde killed pa. So… so now it’s just the four of us. We have to stay together… I mean I couldn’t make it out here alone and Casmin isn’t very strong she wouldn’t make it here alone, so we have to stay together. I know you probably would like for it to be just you and Kamile, but we need you! I need you! Pa wasn’t very loving and Clyde… well he was just to mean to us. I don’t know how ma put up with all the killing and robbing they did.” “Wait a minute, you said they robbed and killed people? Why? “I don’t know that’s the way we were brought up. I’ve never seen pa work at a job in my life. It was always killing and robbing. They used Casmin and I a lot when they would rob people and… you’re lucky their dead… they had planned on using you to help them rob and kill people. Pa said that you impressed him

with the way you shot those Indian’s so I’m sure he planned on using you. You see when pa wanted to rob someone, without killing them, which wasn’t very often, he’d have us go and pretend we were hurt and ask for help. As soon as the mark, that’s what pa called the people he’d rob and kill, wasn’t paying attention to anything but us girls, he’d come up behind them and hit them, watch them fall and laugh. Or, when he felt like it killing or stabbing people he’d do that then take whatever gold, money or valuables they’d have on them.” Jared had been through so much recently and with his adventure with Clyde the prospect of the two men doing what they did and what they had planned for Jared didn’t affect him very much. At first he was shocked but as Jennifer explained things he knew he’d done the right thing in fighting them. “That’s okay Jennifer I understand.” He jumped down from the wagon and helped Jennifer down. She was shivering so hard that Jared went to the back of the wagon and gave her one of his coats. “Here put this on, you’ll feel better when you’re warmer.” Jennifer looked at him and smiled as she clutched the coat wrapping it around her shoulders. By this time the other girls had awakened and were jumping off the wagon. “Where are we?” asked Casmin, while shivering in the cold night air. “Yeah… Jare where are we? I’m cold.” “We’re at the river. Kamile get your coat from the wagon and put it on. See if there is another coat or blanket that Casmin can wear.” “Okey Doky Jare.” Jared turned back to Jennifer as she took his arm and moved in close. “We’d better get some water,” said Jared rather sheepishly. “If things went the way I think they did, there should be a barrel around here somewhere that we can get the water with.” Jared walked, with Jennifer almost glued to his body up close to the river. He looked up and down the riverbank and thought he saw the barrel he’d used before about fifty feet away. “There! I think I see the barrel.” Jared ran as Jennifer lost hold of his arm almost falling onto the riverbank. When Jared realized what he’d done, he turned around and ran back to her.

“I’m sorry Jenny, I just got too excited there for a minute.” “Jenny?” said Jennifer. “Hum… I like it. You can call me Jenny any time Jared. It has a nice ring to it… Jenny… I like it.” The two walked up to the barrel observing that it could be used. Jenny helped Jared fill it with water and Jared with Jenny-who again kept clinging to Jaredcarried it back to the wagon. Casmin along with Kamile had been surveying the bones in the valley when Jared and Jenny returned. Casmin asked Jared, “What is this? Are these real bones?” “Yep… as far as I can tell Casmin they’re real,” replied Jared as he and Jenny plopped the barrel in front of the bones. “Can we get rid of them?” Asked Casmin, “They scare me.” “Well dad had planned to use them to build a house. That was before we found out about the other house. “I don’t want to go back to that house!” said Jennifer, “I’ve had enough of that place!” “Were staying right here! No one is going back there for any reason!” said Jared. “Thank you Jared,” said Jennifer wiping sweat from her brow. “I knew we could count on you. What are we going to do now?” “Well, since there doesn’t seem to be any threat of Indians, or anyone else, we should all take it easy maybe get some rest in the wagon. We’ve got blankets, they should keep us warm.” Jared and the three girls climbed into the back of the wagon. They all found blankets big enough to cover them, huddled together, and most of them were asleep quick as a wink. Jared couldn’t sleep so he quietly sneaked out of the wagon propping himself up against the back wheel of the wagon as he gently slid down into a sitting position. The sounds of birds chirping filled Jared with hope that from now on what residual had been left of his family plus the two girls could start a new life thereby making something of themselves by the of a family. He found it odd that he now faced taking care of three girls of different ages. Jennifer had released emotions in him he’d never felt before and wondered if this was what his parents called love. Jared was too young to be involved with a girl. But he did hearing about boys and girls that were

forced to handle the responsibilities of adults; getting married so a family could be created thereby allowing the boys and girls to help each other survive. However, those boys and girls weren’t thought of as the “typical” children of the time. In fact most of the children were shunned by a great number of people back east. Being in a new part of the country without the trappings of New York made Jared think that having a family at a young age may work out. After all there is no one else here, furthermore, if we are to survive a family wound be the best thing to have. Jared thought about the rights and wrongs of married life especially being so young moreover the fact that he wasn’t experienced in the aspect of making love, then he thought about Jennifer and if she was ready for this type of commitment, or whether or not she was in love with him or could fall in love with him as time grew on both of them. Jared thought about his situation for quite a while finally deciding to let things play out as they would without being concerned with marriage until the time was right to where both he and Jennifer felt the same way. Soon Jared slipped into a dreamland of sorts. The shade of the night crept slowly into the depths of darkness reserved only for the brave souls strong enough to handle the experience. Morning came without a single chirp of a bird or the sound of leaves blowing in the wind. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of water swirling, tumbling forward on its journey to wherever water runs in this land. During the night Jared had slumped over. When he awoke his back had reminded him of what he’d done these past few days. It made him feel like he aged fifty years, although he’d never been fifty so it was kind of like projecting what he felt being that age would be like. He stood up gingerly as he smelled coffee and breakfast. The smell drew him to Jennifer where he saw that she had started a campfire and began cooking. “Hi sleepy head, how you feeling?” asked Jenny, “I saw you there so peaceful snoring away I didn’t want to wake you and thought that the smell of a breakfast might get you up.” “Wow… I didn’t know you could cook.” “Huh… it’s something all us girls have to learn. Sometimes… pa… well… sometimes we’d have to cook instead of ma, she’d… she’d be sick or hurting so we’d have to do the cooking.” “Speaking of your ma and pa, I know you know what happened to them and

you’ve shown me how much you loved them, but how come Casmin hasn’t said anything about your folks or shown any emotion?” “Casmin isn’t like us. She’s… I guess you could say she doesn’t quite understand what a family is and has a very hard time talking and thinking. I’m sure whatever is causing this happened when she was kicked in the head by a horse a few years ago. She’s never been the same since. I’ve taken care of her most of the time. It hasn’t been easy.” Jennifer handed Jared a plate of bacon, eggs along with a cup of coffee. Teardrops slid out of her eyes into the fire with a sizzle as she wiped away her tears. Jared put his breakfast down while he put his arms around her. “It’s alright Jenny, we are a family and we take care of each other. I’ll always take care of you and Casmin as if you were my sisters. None of us are going to want for anything from now on. We’ll handle anything that life throws at us.” Jared held Jennifer tight as her tears flowed endlessly. Hearing Jennifer crying Casmin and Kamile came running up to her. “What’s wrong?” asked Kamile. “Did you hurt yourself?” Jennifer replied, “No honey, just ing some sad things.” “Okey Dokey,” said Kamile as she took hold of Casmin’s hand then went off to play. Jared looked at Jennifer saying, “We’d best get going.” “Going where?” asked Jennifer. “Oh… I just meant we’d better get started building a home for all of us.” “Building a home? Do you know how to do that? Won’t that take a lot of time? And, what are you going to use to build this home? There isn’t any wood around here, unless you chop down a tree and cut it into boards, and… huh… that will take forever.” “We don’t need wood,” said Jared as he walked over and pointed to the bones in the valley. “You… you’re going to build a house out of bones? You mean like the one we just came from?” Her faced turned white as she hugged herself rubbing her hands up and down her arms. “Don’t worry Jenny, it’ll be safe. It’s the quickest way to build a house. There are some trees in a valley just beyond these trees that have sap that is very strong. I used some of it to repair the barrel yesterday and it’s still holding. The

sap would be good to use like a glue to hold the bones together. That way they’d be strong enough for walls. But, I can’t do it alone. I need your help.” Jennifer looked at the bones then back at Jared thought for a minute knowing full well she couldn’t resist his wishes. Besides, what else is she going to do? The two started by securing the bones that looked to be the strongest and put them in a pile near a spot they had picked for their house, and began thinking about how it would look. Jared went to the wagon bringing back a pencil with some paper then started drawing plans for the house. When he finished he showed it to Jennifer. She loved the appearance of the house and both of them decided that it should have four bedrooms. That would be enough to handle their makeshift family plus any other people that may come this way heading west. Jared now had the problem of bringing the sap from the tress into this valley without having it stick to the container moreover harden before he could use it. He tried a number of containers found in the wagon but by the time he brought them back with sap inside it had hardened to a consistency that was very hard to remove. Jennifer and Jared studied the problem thinking that maybe the house would be easier to build if it were in the valley where the sap giving trees were. That valley has a beautiful clearing surrounded by the forest, which meant that it was hidden from the view of any Indian’s that reached the valley of bones. Jared calculated that he could build a path from the valley of bones to the house. They began putting as many bones as they could carry into the back of the wagon. That meant they had to remove most of their belongings in order to carry the load, but they’d be back on another trip to gather their supplies and clothing. Since the threat of Indian’s had been diminished Jared didn’t think twice about leaving their personal things in the valley while they made trips to and from their new house location. It took all day to bring enough bones into the new location. Jared had worn himself out, did Jennifer. The entire family was too tired to go back and get their belongings, so they built a campfire, had a meager dinner, from what they could carry of food and huddled together. As the night deepened they fell into the dimension of dreams and nightmares. The next day came all too fast. Ri from the previous days tasks proved to be hard for the two new parents even harder still for the two young girls. Their food had been devoured so they had to go back to the valley to get their belongings. Everyone wearily climbed on board. Jared guided the horses back toward the valley. Upon reaching the valley there were about twenty bones left of what Jared surmised to be about one hundred bones. But something was

missing. All of the items they left behind were gone. Jared and Jennifer jumped down. Jared found tracks from the bags and chest that they had laid there yesterday. The tracks meandered into the woods they had just traveled from. Jared followed the tracks while Jennifer stayed with the girls watching for any sign of Indian’s or someone else that could have stolen their things. He walked up to the tree line. Somehow the tracks were gone. He stepped beyond the tree line into the forest, walked a few feet, but still no evidence of dragged bags or of a chest. Jared was about to venture further into the woods when he found a tomahawk. This one wasn’t like the others he’d seen, this one had beautiful carved images on the hatchet-like end and the handle was carved with scenes of Indian’s killing buffalo and other animals. Jared picked up the tomahawk. Suddenly, it started to change, the images on the business end of the tomahawk were changing into images of Jared, Jennifer, and the other girls standing in front of a burned down house. Jared dropped the tomahawk. The image-changing tomahawk shook his soul beyond what he could ever have imagined. He’d seen a tomahawk like this at the bone house, but thought that it had something to do with the graves in the back of the house, and that getting away from that environment would solve the problem. Now he guessed that the tomahawk he’d just found and the one he’d seen earlier were meant to tell him something or prevent something from happening. Jared didn’t understand how this could be happening, and wanted a resolution to these events as soon as humanly possible. He turned around walked a few feet as Jennifer came running up to him. “What happened? Why did you go into the forest?” Jared walked with Jennifer back to the bone valley telling her that he was following the tracks of the items that had vanished. Jennifer looked at him, puzzled about his reason for entering the forest stating, “Jared honey the bags and chest haven’t moved, their still where we left them.” Then she pointed to the left, and Jared saw that she was right, nothing had been taken all their belongings were safe. “Jared, maybe you’ve been working to hard. You probably need some rest.” Jared was sure about what he saw. However, he knew that if he persisted Jennifer might think of him as crazy. “Huh… I guess maybe you’re right Jenny… huh, that was something. But, I’m fine now. We need to get the rest of these bones then take them to our new valley.” “Don’t we have enough bones already?”

asked Jennifer. “Maybe, but it’s always better to have more than we need,” said Jared. Jennifer looked at Jared as if she wasn’t sure that his brain was working properly but went along with his wishes anyway. Jared began gathering the bones while Jennifer put some of the smaller bags in the wagon waiting until Jared had loaded all the bones for him to help her lift the chest into the wagon. “There, that should do it!” said Jared, as he pushed the chest farther into the wagon. “Now we’re all set to start building the house.” They gathered up the girls and climbed aboard the wagon for one last trip. Everything went smoothly. The family started to build their dream house. Even though the work proved hard and seemed to go on forever after about a week of building the house began to show the shape of a large, grand structure. Toward the middle of the second week Jared and Jennifer decided that a break was in order and unleashed the horses. Jared climbed aboard the black horse whereas Jennifer climbed aboard the Palomino. The two told the girls to stay in the wagon not to go into the house because it didn’t have a roof yet and the sap in some areas hadn’t hardened fully. It might not hold if anything pressed against it. The girls agreed and the parents started a slow gallop into the forest. Jared and Jennifer were having a great time racing with each other just enjoying a break from the hard work of building a house. The two became very close during this time. Their relationship began to show how they felt. Jared suggested having one last race with the loser having to cook dinner tonight. Jared wasn’t a good cook, in fact the last time he cooked anything he burnt it to a crisp. Believe me burning beans is very hard to do so he was intent on winning this race no matter what. They mounted their horses, counted to three and took off. Jennifer knew how to ride very well taking the lead early. Jared hustled to keep up with her. About half way through their race they were neck and neck. Jared had to win. After all anyone eating his cooking would surely get very sick or die. He didn’t want to think about cooking for anyone, especially for Jennifer. He wanted her around for a long time and throwing up what she’d just ate. The race became more aggressive. Jennifer had bolted ahead of Jared several times. Now Jared was getting very frustrated so he decided he’d give it one last try for success. He kicked the sides of his horse and yelled. That did it he took off smoothly ing Jennifer in one swift move. As he looked back he saw that Jennifer had stopped and pointed ahead of Jared. He turned around saw what lay ahead of him and stopped quickly. The image on the tomahawk had come true except for one small detail the girls weren’t with them. Jared and Jennifer without realizing it had had their race run right up to the front

of the old house of bones, the place they never wanted to see again, but this time, just as the tomahawk had shown, the house was burnt down to the ground. What remnants of the bones were scattered all over the land. The only thing different was that Jared and his new family were not standing in front of the house as the tomahawk had shown. Jared dismounted as Jennifer ran up to him. “My God Jared how did this happen? Did you see any smoke or smell anything?” “No, and that ain’t right. If a house burns there should be smoke and fire and we should have seen something or at least had the smell of smoke in the air. I’m gonna check out something.” Jared ran to the back of what used to be the house and found that the graves had been completely dug up, including his mother’s. He fell to his knees and started to cry. Jennifer came over and held him. “It’ll be okay honey, you’ll be fine. You’ve got me and the girls and we’ll be fine.” Jared looked up into her eyes and knew she was right. He stood up and gazed toward the shed. “Huh, whatever or whoever burned this house didn’t see the shed or didn’t bother burning it, or maybe couldn’t burn the shed. Jared had a look of excitement in his eyes and started up the hill with Jennifer right behind him. When they reached the shed Jennifer began to shiver feeling weak. “Jared honey I don’t feel well, lets go back to our house.” “Just a few minutes more Jenny, I have to see if I’m right.” Jared, with the help of Jennifer, managed to open the door to the shed. They walked inside quickly something caught their attention that made Jennifer sick to her stomach. He was right in his thoughts. Someone had taken the bones in the graves and put them in the shed. They were spaced out with the family in the back of the shed and Jared’s mom in the front of them, kind-of-like a guardian against anyone getting to the family of bones. “I knew it!” yelled Jared, “The bones were moved!” Jennifer had managed to regain some manner of normalcy and asked, “Why would anyone dig up graves and move the bones?” “It’s not, why would anyone,” replied Jared, “It’s why would the spirits move the bones here?” “Huh, you’re not making sense honey. Spirits can’t move bones.” “Jenny, I have a feeling these spirits can do anything they want, whenever they want, and to whoever they want.”

“Then we’d better get out of here right now! Or we’ll be next.” “I think you’re right. Let’s get out of here and back to our house. But, what if other people find this shed and those ruins? They’d be attacked or haunted by those spirits. We have to do something to let people know not to come here.” “Okay Jared honey you’re beginning to scare me. If spirits want to attack people you’re not going to be able to stop them by putting up a sign saying stay away. You know people like my pa and brother aren’t going to pay attention to signs. Signs might even make them more anxious to see what all the fuss is about. Besides, how do you know who really moved the bones? It could have been the Indian’s as far as we know and you know what they’d do if they found out that we were trying to warn people-right? “Why would they burn down this house and move bones into the shed? Replied Jared, “no normal person would do that—even if they are Indian’s-it has to be spirits.” In his mind Jared knew that signs wouldn’t do any good. A lot of people might not be able to read or read very well so signs probably wouldn’t be a good idea. But there had to be a way to warn people of the dangers here. As he and Jennifer walked down the hill Jared spotted some dead trees, his mind raced with ideas. He told Jennifer to help him pull one of the dead tree trunks up toward the shed. She did so reluctantly. At the shed Jared and Jennifer placed the trunk in front of the door and piled dirt up around it. “You think people won’t go in here because this tree trunk is here?” she asked. “Well, I can’t think of anything else that would work. Signs wouldn’t be good we don’t know how many people can read and with this trunk here hopefully that will make them think twice about entering.” Jennifer didn’t say much after that but Jared thought she didn’t think it would work and just wanted out of there. “Good that’s done! Now let’s get back to our house.” “Finally! Jared honey please, please don’t come back here anymore… its… its too strange around here.” “Don’t worry Jenny I never plan on coming back here again!” As they mounted their horses they looked back at the house that had had so much torment and fear now sitting there like a dead, burnt body smoldering in the afternoon light. “Too bad,” said Jared, “that the house was destroyed it had so many awful things happen to it but we could have rebuilt that room and had a nice place to live.” “No! Never!” said Jennifer as she looked back at Jared.

“There is no way in the world that I’d live in that house, even if we did rebuild that bedroom, no way in the world!” The two maneuvered there horses around slowly galloping back to their new house. The forest seemed to glow with excitement as the suns ray’s whipped through the trees and branches. Jennifer seemed to have a great desire to get away from the bone house as fast as she could leaving Jared far behind. That worked well for him; he enjoyed the afternoon light of the sun and marveled at how the forest came alive whenever the light hit it. He could still see Jennifer between dust balls that would jump up and swirl around him so his concern for her safety never entered his mind. Soon both of them were bringing their horses to a stop in front of their new house. Casmin and Kamile were right where Jennifer had left them playing with checkers and their dolls. Jennifer jumped off her horse bolting into the shell of the house she grabbed Casmin and ran back out to her horse. She was about to lift Casmin onto her horse when Jared came to her. “What are you doing?” he asked. “I’m taking Casmin and I’m getting out of here. What we went through back there I never want to do again. You didn’t show any comion for me, or my feelings, all you wanted to do is… is your… thing, whatever that is. I thank you for rescuing us from those Indian’s but we can’t stay with you… we just can’t!” “Wait!” yelled Jared. “You can’t leave! There are Indian’s out there somewhere. You’d be easy pickings by yourselves.” Jennifer looked around and Jared could see that she may be listening more closely to what he said than she let on. “Look Jenny… I… I… love you!” Jared’s face turned a bright red recognizing what he’d said. “You… you what? What did you say?” said Jennifer as her eyes became bright. “I… I guess I said I love you!” Jennifer took Casmin sat her down then turned and gave Jared a big kiss. He hadn’t been kissed by a girl before it surprised him but he found out that he liked it. “Do I kiss her back or do I say thank you? What am I supposed to do?” he asked himself. He didn’t have long to wait Jennifer kissed him again only this time for a much longer time. This time Jared picked up on what he should be

doing. “But,” said Jared after a long wet kiss. “You’re what fourteen and I’m seventeen, how is that going to work out? “You don’t have to worry about that. We’ll solve that problem when we need to. Right now sugar I think we need to either find a place for shelter tonight or put some kind of roof on this house. After all, you wouldn’t want your girlfriend to get wet or cold tonight would you?” Jared stumbled over his words eventually stating, “No I wouldn’t.” He’d never met a girl so aggressive and wondered what would happen next. He really wasn’t sure if he loved her or what love really was but he knew he didn’t want to live without her by his side. His conscious made him think about what love really is as he said to himself, “If that is what love is about then I’m glad I fell for her.” Jenny took Jared’s hand leading him to the house. They both looked at where the roof would be and knew they couldn’t do anything in one night. Jared ed a tarp they had in the wagon so he decided to retrieve it. When he returned he made a makeshift tent secured one end into the sap that was holding up the bone walls the other ends he secured into the ground with pieces of wood that were tall enough to make what looked like a tent. The boy didn’t realize it at the time but that tent wouldn’t budge by morning eventually becoming part of the wall as long as it held. Now the foursome had a place to stay the night that would protect them against the elements. Since the house only had four walls, Jared new the rain, if it rained again would fall directly on the tarp, but that couldn’t be helped, at least they had some protection. They all huddled under the tent as night came forward making things invisible except for what they could see a few feet in front of them. The clan had become a real family. Now that Jared had expressed his love for Jennifer she accepted it. The thought of having a family grew stronger within Jared and he fell asleep watching Jennifer with the other girls nod off. Morning came with a loud crash! Everyone jumped up bouncing their head on the top of the soaking wet tarp. “What… what was that?” asked Jennifer. “I don’t know,” said Jared. “It sounded like something happened to the wagon.” Jared got up racing for the wagon only to slide in the mud just outside of the house. “Damn it! Did it rain last night?” he asked as he gathered himself together. Trying to balance in the thick mud didn’t work well but he did what he could to

stand upright. Jared scanned the area in front of him. The wagon no longer looked like a wagon but a pile of wood with wooden wheels leaning inward. Also, one of the horses was gone while the other one had been hit by something lying dead in front of the wagon. Jennifer came out from the house also slipping in the mud. “What?” she said. “What in tarnation happened out here? It must have rained last night?” “I didn’t hear or feel anything.” Jared said with frustration, “It must have been a pretty bad storm, it destroyed the wagon. Those trees over there were knocked over.” As Jared and Jennifer walked up closer to the wagon Jennifer asked, “Can it be fixed?” Jared surveyed the wagon stating, “Probably, if I had the right tools, but the wheels have been almost destroyed-I can’t fix them. We’d need someone who knows how to build wagon wheels in order to fix it. But really Jenny I think it’s a lost cause.” Kamile and Casmin followed Jennifer out. When they reached the demolished wagon Kamile asked, “Who did that Jare? Whoever it was I’m gonna beat them to a pulp!” “Yes me… me too! I’d like to beat them to a pulp so they couldn’t harm us ever again!” said Casmin. The fact that Casmin spoke rather well startled everyone except Kamile, even though Casmin had been talking fairly well all along, it’s just that no one ever noticed. “Casmin, you… you’ve become better at talking,” said Jared. “I… talk good… maybe sometime… when I want to.” Jennifer started crying bending down and holding Casmin close to her. “Honey I didn’t know you could talk that well. I’ve only heard you say a few words at a time. What changed honey?” Casmin pointed to Kamile. “I helped her talk better,” said Kamile, “Did I do good Jare?” “You did great honey, just great!” “Thank you Kamile,” said Jennifer. “No one has been able to get her to talk this much in years, thank you sweetie.” “Okey Dokey, but I’m still gonna squash whoever broke our wagon just you watch me.” Kamile grabbed Casmin’s hand while both of them they ran back, as much as someone could run through mud, into the house. Jennifer looked at Jared then hugged and kissed him again. I’m never gonna let you go Jared. You’re mine

forever!” Jared released a subtle smile, hugged her while returning a kiss to her. “Well, let’s clean up this mess,” said Jared. “Maybe we can use some of this wood for the roof.” Jared took the pieces of the wagon that didn’t have many nails in them throwing them close to the house while Jennifer tried to remove some nails from the other pieces of wood without making the holes larger. After all the wood had been made ready for the roof, Jared decided that the time had come to start chopping up some of the trees that had been blown down in the storm. He went into the area of the forest where he saw the tomahawk, found it, hesitantly took it, looking for any changes then brought it back to the fallen trees. He figured that it was a normal tomahawk also that he had imagined the carved figures, then lifted the axe over his head and came down on the wood with a thud. The tree was as hard as a rock and he felt the effects of trying to cut up a rock-like trunk. His hands and arms shook hard. He had to drop the tomahawk immediately. “Alright, you’re gonna be that way huh,” he said, as he picked up the tomahawk again trying a different tree this time. Now he succeeded. Even though it was hard work he managed to chop up part of that tree trunk. The pieces that were left weren’t long enough to span the length of the house shell so he knew that they’d have to be attached to each other. “Sap!” he exclaimed, “that should make the connection between these pieces really strong.” Jared had figured out that he would use the wood as an overlay however the main structure of the roof would be the bones that were left. Thereby creating a double thickness of a roof that would be strong moreover preventing weather from entering the house. It was very hard work to get the sap, place it on the wood and the bones to make a strong, relatively long portion of the roof. “This is going to be great!” he thought, then it hit him. “How am I going to get this up to the top of the walls and span the length of the house?” He thought for a few minutes and then happened to gaze upon a tree trunk. “I guess I’ll just have to build a ladder. That would take care of getting this up to the walls but how am I going to connect these to each other. I’d have to have a huge ladder to do that. But I don’t have enough wood for that. Wait a minute.” Jared searched the area for any kind of paper, found some and used the pencil he’d used to sketch out the original design for the house then began to sketch out a scaffold like system that could be moved as the stages of the roof were built. Now he only had one problem, finding enough wood to make this structure. He had some of the wagon wood left, but it wouldn’t be enough, so after much deliberation the only solution would be to chop up the rest of the tree trunk and hope that it would give him enough wood for the job.

There were three trees that had fallen one he already tried and couldn’t use so the remaining trees were a viable option. They were huge trees about six feet in circumference. This made for a lot of wood. However, Jared hadn’t developed the strength needed to complete such a task efficiently. “Jenny… Jenny can you come over here?” Jennifer walked over to Jared and asked, “What’s up honey,” as she took hold of his arm. “I’ve developed a system to make the roof but I need your help, otherwise I’ll be here for weeks chopping wood and assembling the system. Could you help me with this?” “Sure, just let me make sure the kids are okay I’ll be right back.” He looked at the tree that he’d use for the roof plus the one he’d use for the scaffold system and began to calculate how to put scaffold system together. The nails that were taken from the wagon were going to be saved for part of the roof assembly so he had to figure out how to attach the sections. The sap wouldn’t work because although it was strong, he didn’t think it was strong enough to hold a roof together in a storm like the one that just went through this valley. He came up with the idea of using a peg system. Jared would cut pieces of the tree into small pegs, then make holes the size of the pegs in bone sections of the roof assembly. Jared would use the sap to hold the pegs into each section. By doing this on the sections of the roof that would make the ceiling, he surmised that they wouldn’t be affected by the weather as much as the chopped wood layer that were placed on top of the bones. Jennifer had made her way back to Jared and listened as he explained what he planned to do. He wanted Jennifer to carve out the pegs that would be used in the roof while he chopped the trees into planks as long as he could make with the tomahawk. Both Jared and Jennifer worked tirelessly to accomplish their task. Hours later all the materials needed to assemble the roof were cut and shaped into lengths that Jared thought would be the best length for strength. They didn’t however make the scaffolding. That task would have to wait until morning. The afternoon sun limped down over the horizon as night started to slide into place.

Chapter 6

Bonestown History, Jared and Jennifer’s home

While the sun meandered down over the horizon line Jennifer saw a beautiful sunset and patted Jared on the back. Jared hugged her as they both watched in awe while the sunset disappeared from site. “Wow!” said Jennifer. “That was a beautiful site.” “Yep, Jenny, I think we’ll be seeing a lot of those sunsets from the deck of our new house.” “Deck? There weren’t any plans for a deck on the house?” “Yeah I know, I just thought of it. Wouldn’t that be great?” “Yes honey that would, but we’ve got a lot of work to finish before that happens.” “Oh I know, I was just thinking.” “That’s nice sweetie, but c’mon we’ve got to get the kids and make dinner. By the way Jared how are we going to survive without food? You know that storm we slept through, I still can’t believe we did that, destroyed our wagon and all the supplies we had in there must have been blown away. So what are we going to do for food after tonight?” “Jenny my love, I’ve already figured that out. When we, by we I mean our family, first got here I saw animals running through the forest almost daily, I know I could kill some of them for food, after that… well… we’ll just have to find another source of food. Just keep in mind Jenny that God has taken care of us so far, and he’ll continue to take of us.” The two young people were now becoming adults, even though their ages didn’t

show that of adults, they were starting to think like adults, had managed to survive Indian attacks, attacks from family , and whatever haunted the original bone house. The two semi-adults walked into their partial house went over to the girls and told them that dinner would be ready soon. “Good!” said Kamile. “I’m starved, I can’t wait to eat!” “Me… too… me too,” said Casmin waving her hand at Jennifer. Jennifer had gathered some rocks that were nearby which allowed her to make a circle for the boundary of the campfire. Jared had scrounged up some broken pieces of wood to use for the fire. Rubbing sticks together for a few seconds resulted in a fire being born as flames grew with gentle ease. Jennifer retrieved the food bag from and brought out the last of the beans with some bread. She put the beans in a pot they’d used before. She then made a rack to place the pot on right over the fire. While the beans cooked Jared had taken the barrel in hand as he walked down to the river to get more water. He wasn’t afraid of walking through the forest. The trouble they’d had with Indians was over now it became his task to build a safe house in addition to growing a family. The forest appeared more beautiful now that Jared wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone attacking him. With renewed vigor and desire for life he presented a strong confident walk. The walk didn’t take long and Jared found himself at the river’s edge. A reflection of something a short walk away from him garnered his attention. He put down the barrel, withdrew his gun, gently walking up to it. It looked like something kind-of round half buried in the mud, with what looked like hair all over it. A hat that looked very familiar sat opposite the thing was also partially covered with mud. He kicked the thing over. When he saw what it was he jumped back a few feet while his trigger finger kept pulling the trigger over and over until he realized that the gun was empty. He threw the gun to the side and said, in a small almost unrecognizable voice, “That’s… that’s Clyde’s head! Jared looked over at the hat, “And that has got to be his hat.” “Where is the rest of him? Where did the Indian’s take his body?” he searched the immediate area-nothing. Fearing that the girls might find this site Jared walked back to the head bent down picked it up with trepidation, then threw it as hard as he could down river. Jared seized the hat doing the same thing with it.

“No! Clyde’s ghost isn’t going to haunt us. Not while I’m around!” Jared walked back to the barrel then began filling it up from the same river that now carried Clyde’s head along with his hat. He wasn’t concerned with the fact that Clyde’s remains were floating in the river or that he and his family would be getting water from the same river. What did concern him was the ability to see ghosts or spirits or another tomahawk with images that come to life. After Jared filled the barrel he lifted it on his shoulder taking it back to his house. His mind reeled with various ways to put the scaffolding together plus if it would hold long enough to secure the roof in place before the next big storm hit, but those thoughts didn’t last long. As he walked his mind wandered to the spirits that were in the old bone house. “Who, if it weren’t spirits, would have burned it to the ground?” He stopped, put the barrel down staring in the direction of the first bone house. Nothing. “Maybe I’m just expecting too much. That place is burnt to the ground no reason to return to it besides I’ve got work to do.” Jared took one last, long look toward the ghost house then picked up the barrel walking back toward Jennifer and the girls. A few minutes . His walk has lead him to the tree line of the forest exiting the wooded area then stopping to gaze at the walls that he and Jennifer had put up. Amazed that he with a girl could have accomplished such a feat, especially with very little tools and education in how to build a house, he stood there looking at their handy work for a few seconds. Kamile saw Jared first then bolted away from her new mom over to him, gave him a big hug and said, “Bout time you came back, I was worried that you might have had trouble with those awful Indian’s.” “No, no trouble with Indian’s. They are all gone. We don’t have to worry about them.” His mouth created a gentle smile that if seen by anyone other than a child would know that the smile along with the words that he’d just spoken weren’t the truth, but only a sly way of not letting a little girl know how bad things may get if the Indians come again. Jennifer walked up giving Jared a big hug and kiss. By now he’d put the barrel down and reciprocated the action of Jennifer. “Glad your back honey.” She pulled a small part of her blouse up to her nose. “I need to get clean honey. Is that river deep enough for me to take a swim?” “Yes, but it’s not safe there.” “Not safe?”

“No, it’s wide open and anyone hiding in those woods could take a shot at you and you’d never see it coming.” “You just got back from there didn’t you?” “Yeah… “Well if you can go there there’s no reason why I can’t.” Jennifer scurried into the woods as she looked back at Jared’s dumfounded face. Jared ran, with the girls following close behind him, after her. He caught up to her as she started to take taking her blouse off. Jared had never seen a barechested girl before-it aroused his emotions. She saw that Jared had come after her with the girls and said, laughingly, “C’mon Jared honey, take off your clothes and me, and have the girls come to. By this time Jennifer was completely nude, not a stitch of clothes covered her. “What’s the matter Jared? You look like you’ve never seen a girl before.” He moved his eyes upward, “Ah… no I guess not.” “It’s no big deal honey, were a family,” she said then jumped into the cold water with a loud splash. Seconds later her wet hair flowing down over her face popped up from the water line. “C’mon you scaredy cat jump in, the water feels great and it’s so fresh. Jared started to undress as he told the girls to do the same and go see Jennifer. The girls were done faster than Jared. A smile eased on his face watching them jump in the water swimming toward Jennifer. Jared didn’t know Kamile could swim and was happily surprised. He finished getting undressed repeating what his family had just done. Jared was stunned by the fact that the water was cold which made little goose bumps appear on his arms. Jennifer came over hugged him tightly saying, “Well I guess you like me a lot huh Jared.” The color red covered his face while he put his hands down over the area in question. “Don’t worry honey,” she said. “I’ll show you what to do with that later on.” She gave Jared a sweet, quick kiss then turned around frolicking in the water again. Jared felt his emotions slowly subside so his body began to adjust to the coldness of the water. Soon all four were jumping, swimming and playing games in the river. Before they realized it the coldness of a river without sun had become evident. Their vision in the night air had decreased. Jared looked back toward the river’s edge, “We’d better head back it’s getting really dark out here. We’re liable to trip over some rocks or something we can’t see.” Jennifer played

with the kids giving Jared a look of, “C’mon just a few more minutes.” Jared gazed back at the river borderline then the sky. “Alright, just a few more minutes, they we’ll have to go.” Jared dove into the water surfacing near Jennifer. The four continued playing enjoying themselves more than they had since they met, when Jennifer yelled out, “Ow… something bit me!” Jared swam closer to her. “Where? Where did it bite you?” “My leg, down by my foot.” Jared dove down toward the bottom of the river trying to find the culprit, but the water wasn’t clear enough to see anything easily. He surfaced, “I didn’t see anything, try lifting your leg up to see if maybe you snagged it on a loose branch or something like that.” Jennifer put an arm on Jared’s shoulder and lifted her leg upward, almost to the point of falling over. Jared examined her leg closely. Most of the time just feeling around her ankle for anything that could have felt like a bite—nothing. “It was probably a piece of wood with a spur on it. That could have made it feel like something bit you. I think now would be a good time for us to leave, what do you think Jenny.” “Definitely!” she said, the children also agreed. The kids made it to shore but Jared had problems balancing Jenny while walking on the floor of the river. Before long they both fell into the water. Jared surfaced and called for Jennifer. “Jenny! Jenny where are you?” The unnerving sound of splashing and yelling reached his ears as he thought he heard the word “help.” “Keep talking and I’ll find you!” Jared told the kids to find their clothes, get dressed and stay right here. He then dove back into the water surfacing almost immediately afterward listening for Jennifer. The sound of a girl yelling help in a darkened river after Jared with his new family had experienced so much pain and torment is frightening beyond comprehension. Jared swam closer toward Jennifer’s voice and the unnerving sound of someone trying to stay afloat loomed in the distance. Within seconds he realized that the screams were coming from all angles of the river. He couldn’t tell which way to swim. The color of night crept in more intensely as it grew less acceptable to light. Again and again he called for her treading water trying to locate the source of his love’s screaming, He’d never felt so scared and alone at the same time. Almost as if the Lord made a way for light to come from above the moon lit up the river thereby letting Jared see something splashing close by. He swam over and found Jennifer. She was almost unconscious from trying to fight the current and whatever tried to pull her down into the depths of the river. Jared grabbed her pulling hard and fast. Whatever had her leg held it tightly and wouldn’t let go. Jared gently let Jennifer go diving down toward her leg. What he could see

from the moonlight waving within the movement of the water was something about the size of an arm but he couldn’t tell exactly what had her leg. It had attached itself to branches or some sort of underwater leave-like thing. Jared started to run out of air so he had to do something very soon. Jared grabbed at the thing yanking as hard as he could. Jennifer’s leg dislodged itself as he and Jennifer surfaced. Now he had to get Jennifer to safety. He took hold of Jennifer under her arms dragging her safely to the shore. When he gently laid her onto the shore she wasn’t breathing. He didn’t know what to do. Tears melded with the water dripping from his hair so the girls didn’t see him crying. He looked at them and said, “I don’t know what to do.” Kamile said, “Kiss her daddy. Blow your life into hers.” Jared was amazed at what his little sister said and kissed Jennifer while blowing into her chest. It took only a few seconds and Jennifer coughed up water while Jared lifted her to a sitting position. She screamed. “Wha… what… where am I?” she asked as she swept the hair from her face. “Your safe honey, your safe.” then she realized that she had been relieved of the terror that had held her from reaching the shore. She looked at Jared and said, “That’s the second time you’ve saved my life. Thank you, thank you!” she kissed him starting to get up when both Jared and Jennifer discovered that more of the thing that had grabbed her leg hadn’t been removed completely. It still clung to her like a wet dress on a body after a powerful rain. Neither one could tell exactly what it was but Jared didn’t spend time tying to figure it out he lunged toward her leg, wrestled with getting it free, finally succeeding and threw it toward the forest. “What was it honey?” asked Jennifer as she hugged Jared. “I… I don’t know. It looked like some kind of big fish. I couldn’t really tell in this light. We’d better get dressed and back to our house, maybe we could re-start the campfire and see if that thing left any teeth marks.” “Teeth marks?” said Jennifer. “Fish don’t have teeth, at least none that I’ve seen.” “I know, but something grabbed on to you, so maybe it did have teeth, I don’t know. But we’d better get back. Can you walk?” “I think so, but I’ll need help getting dressed.”

The four got dressed while Jared helped Jennifer on with her clothes. The four started back toward the house as Jared ed Jennifer. Within seconds Jennifer slipped falling flat on her face. “I guess I’d better carry you,” said Jared, as he reached down lifting her into his arms. “C’mon girls let’s get back to the new house,” he said as he adjusted Jennifer in his arms. Jennifer gave him a wry smile. Upon reaching the new house Jared swiftly but gently laid Jennifer next to the campfire that had almost dwindled out of the yellow-gold flames it had earlier. Jared stirred up the fire with a stick placing the stick near a small flame. It didn’t take long before the fire had erupted staying steadily strong. Jared looked at the wounds that Jennifer had suffered realizing that he could say they were just scratches. He tore off part of his shirt and wiped some of the blood from her leg then bandaged her wound. “That should do it,” he said, “It should be fine in a few days.” Jennifer thanked him for fixing her leg asking him again what had attacked her. He told her it looked like a branch with some thorns on it. She thought for a second then decided that he’d told her the truth then went to check on the girls. Jennifer with the girls sat beside one wall while Jared sat on the other side of the fire watching them as they snuggled close to get warm. He thought to himself, “Thank God she didn’t see what really had hold of her leg she’d have screamed until the cows came home. I’m thankful I didn’t see the whole thing or I might have done the same thing. It must have been in that lake for at least a day or so. From the looks of it decay had set in besides looking like the sun may have burnt it before it was cut off, or maybe the Indian’s cut it off, which is probably more like what really happened. I never thought that I’d ever see anything like that.” Chills covered his body as he adjusted his position closer to the flames. “It can’t really be what I saw could it? The Indian or Indian’s would have to be very strong to in order to cut through flesh and bone like that. Huh, poor Clyde. Too bad he isn’t in one piece anymore.” A laugh of devilish revenge swept across his mouth. Jared crawled over to the family, snuggled up to Jennifer and drifted off. The next morning proved to be cloudy. The temperature had dropped plus the cold of the night still remained while the sun rose over the pristine water that Jared and his family had played so well in yesterday. Jared moved left and right stretching his arms above his head then slowly lowered them down. Jennifer woke up nudging the girls to get up. Jennifer shook her head moving her hair back into place. “Well, it looks like were going to have a nice day today girls, what do you

think?” “Sure, why not?” answered Kamile. “Su… Sure… not,” replied Casmin. “Jared honey what’s on tap for today?” “First, I’m starving! Could you fix some breakfast while I start building the scaffold for the roof?” “You bet you honey! C’mon girls help me get the last of the food together.” Jared gave Jennifer a sweet kiss on the mouth subsequently walked over to the pile of wood set aside for the scaffold. He counted the pieces of wood as well as finding out that he’d need more wood for the scaffold. In searching the land around the pile he located the wood he would need, plus he retrieved the tomahawk he’d brought from the woods. “This should do nicely,” he said as he flipped and twirled the tomahawk in the air a few times, just barely missing cutting his fingers. “Okay Jared, let’s not try that again,” he said to himself as he stopped the twirling and ambled a few steps to what the remained of the tree he’d cut before. He raised his arms over his head as he readied himself for a strong downward thrust when the handle of the tomahawk became red hot. Jared dropped it onto the pile of wood. As soon as it hit the wood the image of a mist from a hot iron being put into cold water emerged from the wood. Seconds later it was cool again. “Damn it! What is with this tomahawk? As he began to seize it again it changed for the second time. Out of the connection of the wood handle to the blade a small bundle of four feathers grew on the tomahawk. “Well, this is interesting. Too bad I couldn’t do that with a cornfield or a tomato patch. Growing something from wood would be odd. Maybe I could make some good money selling the fruits of what the wood produced. Jared hit the side of his head a few times with his hand, “Snap out of it! Start thinking like a man! A man wouldn’t be that stupid!” He reached down took the tomahawk very slowly in his hands. Nothing happened. “See you idiot it was all in your head! This thing probably already had those feathers. I just imagined that they grew right in front of me.” Then he heard it again only this time it was subtle but the effect was the same. “Go home, you don’t belong here!” He ignored the voice of doom continuing to chop pieces of the tree without another incident. About a half hour later Jennifer yelled out that breakfast was ready. Jared had done quite a lot of work in that hour and had chopped the tree into enough pieces that he could begin building the scaffold. He stuck the tomahawk into the remaining section of the tree, rubbed his hands on his pants and strolled back toward the house. Jared looked up at the incoming clouds debating on how much time he’d have to work on the scaffolding before another

storm rolled in. As Jennifer poured coffee into the wooden coffee cups Jared sat down by the fire. The girls were playing with sticks as if they were swashbucklers fighting each other. Jennifer and Jared looked at them and chuckled. “If life were only that simple,” said Jared, as he retrieved a steaming hot cup of coffee. “Yes, honey, wouldn’t that be nice not to have any problems, no worry about Indian’s, no worry about where our next meal would come from and no worry about shelter from the storms. That would be the life!” Jennifer sat down next to Jared balancing plates of beans and bread for herself and the children. “How can you balance all those plates without dropping them or burning your arm?” asked Jared as he took his plate to begin eating as if he hadn’t had a meal in weeks. “It’s nothing honey. When you’re the oldest of the kids you have to learn how to manage things and how to make them work.” “C’mon kids,” yelled Jennifer. “Breakfast is ready.” The girls threw their makeshift swords into the air dashing toward the campfire. Jared stirred the fire with a small stick to make sure that everyone would be whilst the food remained hot. He finished his breakfast and looked at the walls estimating the distance from each wall to the other in his head. “Jared, what’s wrong?” asked Jennifer. “You look puzzled.” “Oh It’s nothing. I’m just thinking about how to make the roof and debating on whether I have enough wood for the job, and if using the bones as part of the roof is the best thing to do, or if I should chop more wood and just use that.” A strange whizzing noise soared past his head. It was the same noise he heard a few days earlier. It came from the woods. Jennifer had ducked down while grabbing the children. “What’s going on?” she yelled. Jared crawled over to them peering up every so often to see if he could tell where the shots were coming from. There seemed to be flashes of light coming from the forest in the direction of the lake. In fact it appeared as though the shots came from the path they had taken to the lake. But he also noticed something else, aside from the few shots that soared past them the rest of the gunshots were contained in the forest. It seemed like someone had been shooting at something in the forest. “I’ve got to go help them,” he said softly to Jennifer. “Huh, what? Help who? Someone just tried to kill us!” “It wasn’t them, they are firing at someone or something in the forest. The shots that we felt were stray shots. Someone needs help. Can’t you hear that?”

“Hear what?” “Indian’s are out there. They may have trapped some settlers. I’ve got to help them.” “Well, you aren’t going to leave us here!” “The kids can’t come with us!” said Jared as he watched the flashes of light appear then in the same instant disappear. “Kids see that pile of bones over there,” said Jennifer. “We are going to play a game. I want you two to crawl under those bones and hide. Jared and I will turn our backs so we can’t see where you’re hiding then we’ll wait a few minutes and see if we can find you. You understand? “You bet you, Okey, Dokey,” said Kamile while taking Casmin’s hand strolling toward the bone pile. “I hope you’re right about this Jared, I don’t want to die for nothing.” “You aren’t going to die Jenny, I wouldn’t put you in a situation like that.” “Oh, so us running into these woods with no protection and you with a gun that has no bullets is not putting me into danger huh!” Since the sound of gunshots became louder Jared and Jennifer had to make it to the tree line fast, Jared turned to Jennifer and said, “Look I don’t know why, but I know that we won’t be harmed. I know that there are people there that need our help. You trust me don’t you?” “Yes… I do.” “Good then trust me to know that I won’t put you or the children in danger.” Jennifer thought for a second and said, “C’mon, let’s see what we can do for those folks.” They soared into the woods. As they ran screams of ultimate terror echoed through their ears. Then there were the sounds of Indian’s yelling. Jared and Jennifer came up close to the sight of the massacre. They hid behind a tree and bushes watching as two Indian’s scalped two dead men, and a woman they had just killed. Jennifer started to scream but Jared covered her mouth with his hand. “Sh,” he said in a whisper. “We don’t want to let them know we’re here, until we can find something to fight them with. He moved his hand away from her face while they continued to watch the Indian’s dance celebrating their victory over the white man. Anger rose fast in both Jared and Jennifer. Something had to be done. Letting the Indians get away with this is wrong! Jared looked around the bushy area for something he could use as a weapon. All he found were rocks and

fallen leaves. He kept searching ultimately finding a substantial rock. If he could just throw it and hit one of the Indian’s in the head, he was sure that it would kill him, or at the very least knock him out. The problem was that Jared never had a good arm for accuracy in throwing anything. He waited for the right moment and threw the rock with all his might. It landed about two feet in front of them. “Jared!” she whispered. “What was that? Can’t you do better than that?” She found another rock, waited again for the right moment next gave it a whopping toss. It flew through the air like an arrow hitting one of the Indian’s on his right temple. He spun around tumbling down with a loud thud. The other Indian came running over to him, rolled him over and saw blood drooling down his forehead from a large gash in his skull. That Indian wouldn’t live to fight another day. The remaining Indian stood up, backed away from his friend and scanned the area for whom might have thrown the instrument of death. He didn’t see anything. The Indian walked slowly over to his horse, still watching for anyone nearby, grabbed the reins of his horse and his partners horse, jumped up on his horse and rode off with a swift definite gallop. Jared and Jennifer stood up smiling, then ran over to what was left of the small family that had received the brunt of the Indian’s attack. The dead Indian was kicked and stomped on by both Jennifer and Jared. Jared dragged the Indian to a remote area of the woods hiding his body. He didn’t want any other Indian’s to find him and start looking for his murderers. Jared came back to Jennifer who by now was trying to clean up the area. “Jared honey, we need to bury these people, and give them a send off they deserve.” “Yes Jenny, you’re right, but where do we bury them? The ground here isn’t soft, and it would take us forever to dig deep enough for graves.” Before Jennifer could answer Jared yelled out, “The lake! We’ll put them in the lake.” “The lake? That’s not a proper burial place.” “Hey Jenny, sailors bury their fellow sailors at sea, so we could consider the lake as our sea. It would be a lot easier than trying to dig graves for them. Besides, we’ve got to get back to the kids, no telling what their into by now.” They set out to drag the dead to the lake. It wasn’t a great distance to the lake, so

it didn’t take long for them to drag the bodies to the shore. “Jared we made it to the lake, now how do we bury them in the water, they’ll float and someone will find them eventually.” “We’ll have to weigh them down with something.” After a few minutes the two had found a lot of heavy rocks. They took the rope belt that one of the dead men wore and tied it to some rocks as well as securing it to the man. They rolled him over into the water. It took a few minutes but the man did sink into the lake. The other man and woman didn’t have rope belts, so Jared and Jennifer tore off some of their clothes to make a makeshift rope and did the same with them. Minutes later all three people had sunk into the lake. The new parents prayed over their souls. When they were done the couple walked back toward their house. On the way they stopped at the sight of the massacre and took some supplies from the small wagon the settlers were traveling in. Jared didn’t like the idea of taking someone else’s food and belongings, but those settlers were brutally murdered besides he didn’t think their souls would mind if he took a few things. As they traveled through the woods Jennifer asked, “Are we always going to be attacked or have to deal with Indian’s?” “Well this is the west, and I image that they’ll always be Indian’s or something we’ll have to fight. that were out here by ourselves, in the middle of nowhere. There’s no town here, no law, no other people, except for us along with the dead we just buried, so I guess we will have to suffer everything bad this land has to offer until more people settle here.” “Jared honey isn’t there something we could do so that we’re protected from Indian’s and thieves. I don’t want Casmin or Kamile to grow up afraid of everyone and everything. It’s too hard to live life as it is now, I don’t want them to have to go through what we have so far.” “Right now the best thing I think we could do is finish building the house. That way we’ll have protection from anyone who’d want to do us harm. We’d also be protected from the weather. The one thing we do have do is find bullets or another gun or two. The settlers may have that in their wagon. I’ll go back and check on that after we get the roof on the house. At least then we’ll have a place to fight from should more Indian’s attack.”

Jared looked at Jennifer sensing that she was thinking hard about something and asked, “What, what is it, what are you thinking about?” “Oh… I was just thinking about the Indian’s.” “What about the Indian’s?” “If the Indian’s weren’t here or they were killed somehow then that would be one less thing to worry about right?” “Ah… yeah, but what are you trying to say?” Jared hadn’t known Jennifer for long but thought that he probably knew what she’d say next waiting for her to come forth with her idea. “I was thinking that the Indian’s have to have a camp around here somewhere. I mean they wouldn’t travel five, or ten miles just to attack people, and they’ve been showing up almost on a daily basis.” “Yes they have, so what do you have in mind?” “Well, this may sound a little far-fetched, but why couldn’t we find their campsite and, and well attack them and finally eliminate them. That way we won’t have to deal with them anymore besides we’d be safe… from Indian’s anyway.” “Huh interesting thought Jenny. Are you crazy! There could be dozens of them. They have arrows and damn well know how to use them. They also, may have guns. We have nothing to fight with and there are only two of us! How would we find and kill Indian’s without being killed ourselves?” “I’ve been thinking about that. I think I know of a way we could do it and survive.” “Okay, this I’ve got to hear. Go ahead tell me how just the two of us are going to attack and kill possibly five, ten, or maybe more well equipped Indian’s.” “One by one.” By this time the two of them had reached their house dropped off what they had taken and found the girls playing in the house. “What took you guys so long?” asked Kamile. “We couldn’t stay under those bones anymore it was too creepy.” “We… we got lost in the woods,” replied Jennifer as she looked

at Jared with a look as if to say, “It’s the only thing I could think of.” Jared smiled saying, “Kamile honey keep playing with Casmin. Jenny and I have to talk about something, we’ll be right over there.” “But we’re hungry. I’m tired of playing with dolls I want to do something else. Can we go into the forest and look for pinecones? Can we huh, can we?” The parents looked at each other then the girls and said in unison. “No!” Jennifer then said, “Look you girls play with your dolls. Jared will tell you a scary story later on tonight okay?” “Okey Dokey Pokey,” said Kamile as the two girls continued to play with their dolls Jared walked with Jennifer to a corner of the house. “Alright Jenny now explain to me how we are going to kill Indian’s one by one.” “It’s simple we just draw them away from their camp one by one and kill them.” “How are you going to only draw one Indian at a time away from the rest of them?” “Well I’m still working on the best way to do it. But I know I can figure it out.” “Alright you figure out how to get rid of the Indian’s while I start building the scaffolding. I’ll bet you the scaffolding gets done before you can figure out a plan of attack.” Jared gave her a wry smile as he sauntered toward the plies of chopped wood and bones. Jennifer also gave him a look of, “I’ll show you… you… you man!” then turned around sat down to play with the kids while her mind reeled a mile a minute trying to discover a method for the Indian’s destruction.

Chapter 7

Bonestown History, The House and a union of souls

Jared laid out the bones on the ground to see how the scaffold would fit together before he actually built it. Since surveying the bone structure he realized that he could build to scaffold without much of a problem. He had a long span to cover but after studying the way everything might fit together, he decided rather than trying to span the length of the house with one scaffold that he’d make two scaffolds placing them side-by-side thereby avoiding having to try and upright one huge, heavy structure for each section of the roof. While he thought of how he’d do the task at hand as well as how long it would take, intermittent thoughts turned back toward his mother and father. He hadn’t thought of them in days. He’d been much too busy trying to survive and trying to keep Kamile in addition to the rest of his new family together and safe. But now that everyone was relatively safe these thoughts kept coming to him. The boy wondered if his mom and dad were really dead or just taken by the Indian’s and kept at their camp for some unknown reason. Tears formed around his eyes as the thought of his parents being alive stirred more emotion than he’d realized. While looking at the pieces of bones that lay in front of him he wondered how his father would have handled the problems he’d had to face these past few days. Jared couldn’t dwell on the past if he and his family were to survive. Under his breath after making sure that no one was watching he said, “Dear Lord please help me get through the trials and problems that may come my way. And please Lord help me keep myself, Kamile, Jenny, and Casmin safe and secure in this land. Father I need your help. I know I haven’t done right by you, but I’m doing the best I can to survive. Please father, help us to survive. Amen. Amen.” Minutes later a peace came over Jared as if the Lord had reached down touching hi soul. Jared knew then that everything would work out. A renewed sense of desire came over him to finish the house then make a strong family. An odd thought slid into his mind, “Maybe we could start a town here. We could call it

Bones… bone… Bonestown! Yeah! That’s it! We will start a town and create something special. Now he had a plan nothing could stop him. Jared went back to the house and told his family what he’d thought of while he waited for their response. Kamile, of course would do anything her brother wanted and eagerly agreed. Casmin seconded that statement even though she didn’t realize exactly what she was agreeing with, while Jennifer looked at Jared with a small smile lingering on her face. “Honey, that is a great idea! But to start a town we’d need other settlers to build more houses, dry goods stores, blacksmiths, sheriff office and all the other stuff that comes with a town and we don’t have that.” “That’s okay Jenny people will come west. It’s only a matter of time. They’ll be here soon. This town won’t be created overnight but it will be done and we will have a nice house to live in. Jenny just think of it we could build our own town with our own rules wouldn’t that be great! It would also be a safe town for our children to grow up without fearing anything.” “Children?” asked Jennifer as the look of excitement grew on her face. “Ye… yes, children. Ah… honey you and I have gone through a lot these past few days and I really don’t know what being a father is all about, but I have this feeling that you and I could have a wonderful life as husband and wife.” “You’re asking me to marry you? Jared sweetie I love you and would love to marry you but I’m only fifteen and you’re seventeen, aren’t we too young to be husband and wife?” “Jenny honey look what we’ve gone through since we met. I saved your life twice. We’ve fought off Indian’s. We are building a house together, and you are great with Kamile. I think that the two of us should be married… well… because I love you too and morally we can’t have children without being married, besides I’d love to have children of our own, wouldn’t you?” Jennifer took Jared strongly planting a big wet kiss on his face. “Yes, I’ll marry you! But there isn’t a minister here. Won’t we need one to make it official we have something better, “Jenny sweetie,” said Jared, “We have God to bless our union that’s all anyone needs.” “Jared what about those Indian’s?” said Jennifer softly so the girls wouldn’t hear. “You know the plan I was supposed to come up with.”

“Let’s just not think about that right now. If they attack again we’ll deal with them, but I think we should concentrate on finishing the house then make our union to each other. How does that sound to you?” “I’d rather get rid of those Indian’s once and for all right now while we have the chance to surprise them.” “We’ll have other chances I’m sure of that.” “Well I’m not!” said Jennifer. “I don’t want the girls in danger, and you want to have kids. I won’t be in any shape to fight off Indian’s when I’m pregnant. And what do you think will happen if they happen to attack at the exact moment I give birth? What will happen then?” “If you were to get pregnant tomorrow you wouldn’t give birth for another nine months anyway, and I’d have plenty of chances to get rid of the Indian’s before the baby comes.” Jared looked deep into Jennifer’s eyes become conscious of the fact that he wouldn’t win this battle so he submitted to come up with a plan to get rid of the Indian’s that had caused so much of a problem for the two of them. While the two began brainstorming for ideas the afternoon sun crept in soon it would be transformed into its larger brother, the ominous black of night. It took about a half hour but Jared and Jennifer came up with a plan. This time though they would take the children with them. They didn’t want any Indian that happened to escape to go back and grab their children. The four set out into the woods. Kamile and Casmin were amazed by the sight of such large foreboding trees as Kamile asked, “Hey Jare how did these trees get so big?” “Ah… the trees… I guess they’ve been here for quite a while. They probably get bigger the longer they live. “Okey Dokey.” The cumbersome gang of four reached the site where the Indian’s had attacked a small wagon train before. Jared with Jennifer by his side began looking into the two wagons for anything that could be used as a weapon. Kamile asked, “Do you guys know what happened to the people that were in these wagon’s? Seems like they wouldn’t just leave them here. Did something happen to them? I know, I bet the Indian’s got them didn’t they?”

Jennifer was the first to answer stating, “I… I think that you’re right sweetie that’s why we have to make sure that they don’t come back to bother us.” “Okey… but how are you going to stop them from coming back here?” “Um… well sweetie… we are going to try to scare them away.” Jennifer turned to Jared asking in a whisper, “Do you know anything better to tell her?” “No… honey you’re doing just fine.” Kamile looked at Jennifer then Jared, thought for a minute, shrugged her shoulders grabbed Casmin’s hand then continued looking around the site. “Looks like it worked,” said Jared whispering to Jennifer. Jennifer shook her head slightly and motioned for the girls to keep up with them. Before long they had gathered all the weapons and ammunition they could find, put them in a bag they found in one of the wagons and Jared flung it over his shoulder as they tried to find the Indian tracks. “There’s got to be a trail or tracks here somewhere!” exclaimed Jennifer as she kicked up some dust. “Ah… wait a minute… you smell that?” Jennifer turned to face Jared faced and said, “Yes! I do! You think it’s the Indian’s cooking dinner?” asked Jennifer. “I don’t know, but in any case it’s either Indian’s or other settlers. If it’s other settlers we’d have more people to fight the Indian’s.” The four walked slowly in the direction the scent of bacon traveled. Within minutes they had arrived at the other end of the forest, just south of where they buried the wagon people in the lake. They heard what sounded like Indian’s talking and dropped down in back of some bushes near the tree line. Jennifer was right with her first inclination about the scent coming from an Indian campfire. About fifty feet in front of them sat a small clearing where two teepees were set up next to each other. The parents watched the four Indian’s walk around their campsite sit and talk about things only they knew. “What are they saying Jared?” asked Jennifer so softly that Jared almost couldn’t hear her. “Huh… you’re asking me? I don’t speak Indian, do you?” Jared had to try hard to hold his voice down so that they wouldn’t be discovered. “Jared! Get some of those guns out of the bag and load them. Then we can get this done and all of us can go back to living a normal life.”

“Sh… Jenny, I’m trying to get them without making any noise.” Eventually Jared did what Jennifer asked giving one of the guns to her. “So Jenny, there are four Indian’s. There are only two of us with just two guns, so how do you think we’re going to get rid of all four without being killed ourselves?” “I’ve been thinking about that and I think I know how we can do it. First we get the other two guns from the bag, load them, take off the rope that ties this bag, and attach these guns to that bush over there and attach the rope to the triggers of the guns. Then we slowly crawl back here with the other end of the rope. If we pull the rope just right the other guns will go off and we’ll fire at the Indian’s as fast as we can and hope we get’em all.” “That’s you’re plan huh? What if only two of them are drawn away by the gunshots? Then we’ll be stuck, unless we’re really fast at firing and get them all in a matter of seconds.” “You got it Jared honey, that’s the plan. What do you think?” “I think you’re crazy… and… it just might work.” Jared took out the two remaining guns, loaded them, while Jennifer undid the rope from the bag. He ed off the guns to Jennifer. “What? You want me to sneak over there and position these guns?” “You’re smaller than I am and you’d be quieter than I could be.” “Uh huh, you’re just scared of getting caught… right?” “No! And besides, you know I’m better at shooting than you are, I’ve proved that.” “Okay… ok, but if I get killed I’m going to come back and haunt you for the rest of your life!” “No Indian is going to come close to you. I’ll keep you covered from here.”

“Okay Jared, but keep the girls out of the range of fire when all this starts.” “Won’t have to, you’ll be back here by then and you can keep them safe.” Jennifer took the guns crawling over to the bush. She peered through the leaves, watching the movements of the Indian’s as she placed each gun on a branch of the bush. The guns were too heavy for the branches to hold, so she had to prop them up with some nearby pieces of wood. She then tied the end of the rope on the farthest gun away from her, went to the gun closet to her and tied the rope around its trigger. There was just enough rope left for her to bring it back with her to Jared. After she’d completed her task she quickly crawled back to Jared. “Alright Jenny when I tell you to pull the end of this rope. Hopefully the Indian’s will be distracted enough that I can get all of them before they realize what happened.” Jared waited for the right time and whispered to Jenny, “Pull the rope now!” She pulled, but nothing happened. She pulled again harder and one of the guns fired. It happened so quickly but not at the time that Jennifer thought it would so she jumped back pulling the rope, dropping it then pulling it again. The trigger on the second gun fired twice as it spun off of the wood struts onto the ground. Two Indian’s had been hit by the gunfire. One shot in the shoulder the other shot twice: once in the chest once in the foot. The other Indian’s did what Jared hoped they would, they jumped up from the sitting position around the campfire running over to the other Indian’s. Jared took aim as fast as he could and fired twice. One shot dropped one Indian instantly the other hit the remaining Indian in the neck bleeding out as he hit the ground. The two Indian’s that received the first shots from the rigged guns were trying to get up. Jared broke through the brush firing two shots into each Indian before they had a chance to react. All the Indian’s were dead. They had succeeded in their goal. Jared stood over the dead Indian’s looking into the deadpan image emanating from their eyes. A slight glint of a reflection caught Jared’s eye just to the right of the Indian’s. It was another tomahawk. This time Jared could pick it up without anything happening, at least until he gazed into the blade that undoubtedly had been used to scalp hundreds of settlers. Again the blade shown an image, this time of the Indian’s that Jared had killed with their souls riward. But before the image of their souls rising disappeared they turned abruptly lunging straight toward Jared yelling. “Get out white man, get out!” Just as they were about to burst forth from the blade they

vanished. Jared screamed dropping the tomahawk. Jennifer with the children, were now next to Jared. As he screamed Jennifer jumped back then moved in close to Jared and said, “What was it? What did you see?” Jared looked at her fumbling for words. “I… I saw images on the blade of… of that tomahawk and they were moving… moving fast toward me. It was as if the souls of the Indian’s knew that I killed them and were out to get me.” Jennifer hugged Jared. “Look sweetie we’ve gone through a lot these past few days. It’s probably just now getting to you. I think you’ll be fine after a good sleep, especially since we’ve rid ourselves of those damn Indian’s!” “We don’t know if there are anymore nearby Jenny. I’m worried that somehow they’ll know that I killed a lot of their kind and come after me when I least expect it.” “Oh hogwash Jared! If there are any Indian’s out there I’m sure they aren’t the same tribe as these. As long as we bury them no evil spirit is going to come after you… you understand honey?” Jared gave a small smile while putting forth his arm around Jennifer. The children were looking at the dead Indian’s as Casmin said, “Dead… Injun’s… dead… why?” Kamile also looked at Jared stating, “Why did you kill these Injun’s? They didn’t do anything to us.” Kamile’s face turned dark with anger as she kicked Jared along with Jennifer then took hold of Casmin jaunting back into the woods. Jennifer was about to storm out after them when Jared seized her arm. “Let them go, they can’t get into any trouble and they might as well get used to killing and death. It seems to be a part of this land.” “But, but what if they get lost. They are both angry, shouldn’t we talk to them and explain?” “Give them some time on their own. I’ll bet you within five minutes they’ll be playing and running around like nothing happened. Right now we need to bury these Indian’s, as you said then go back and explain what we did to children.”

“I’ll get the shovel from the bag while you grab that tomahawk we may need it later on. Don’t worry about seeing images again. I think it was probably just the effect of killing the Indian’s that got to you. Jared honey you are here to protect us. We did the right thing-I’m sure of it” Jennifer walked over toward the bag that was behind the bush while Jared picked up the tomahawk trying not to look at the blade, but his curiosity got the better of him so he had to look. Much to his surprise the blade didn’t show any images, just a normal blade but he kept hearing, “Get out! Get out!” in his head. Jennifer returned with the shovel. Jared secured the tomahawk in his belt. It wasn’t long after that that the words in his head subsided. He then began the strenuous task of digging four graves. After the first grave had been created Jennifer offered to dig the second to give Jared a chance to relax and rest. They went back and forth digging graves until all the graves were done. Jennifer helped Jared roll each Indian into a grave then returned the disturbed ground to its original condition. Although they didn’t have to pray over their souls they did so anyway gazing at the graves for a moment or two before heading back to their house. The night sky looked oddly light in color, Jared clutched the bag then walked with Jennifer out through the forest. When they reached their house the light color of night had changed to darkness so dark that it made seeing anything virtually impossible. Their house seemed to glow as the moonlight hit the bones. On the way back Jennifer hadn’t see the children in the forest as apprehension set in. Jared told her that they probably made it back to the house probably playing inside. He was partially right, they did make it back to the house but Casmin had gotten sick throwing up everywhere. Jennifer searched the bags of belongings fortunately finding some medicine, gave that to her hoping for the best. Within about an hour Casmin stopped her actions. She’d calmed down quit a bit almost back to normal. Jared asked Kamile, rather sternly, what happened wanting to know if Casmin had eaten any fruit or anything like that in the forest. Kamile said that she’d stopped to pick some berries but that she’d eaten them too and didn’t feel sick. Jennifer thought that maybe Casmin was already sick when she ate them. Maybe eating the berries is what triggered her throwing up. Both semi-adults took care of the girls the rest of the night just to make sure that neither one of them felt anymore effects from eating the berries. By morning the girls were fine so Jared

helped Jennifer fix breakfast. After some thought while cooking they decided that after breakfast they’d go back to where the settlers were attacked hoping to bring the wagons back home. Unfortunately, only one horse would have to pull each wagon back. The Indian’s had taken the other horses. Using one horse appeared to be their only option. When the two reached the wagons they noticed that one wagon seemed to be in pretty good shape while the other one had a broken wheel. The damaged wagon couldn’t be used so they tried to put whatever was left in that wagon into the good wagon only leaving one wagon to take back. They hitched their horse to the wagon, got on board then started toward home. The horse struggled to pull the weight. Jared stopped, jumped down and went to the back of the wagon. He had told Jennifer to get going at the same time as he pushed the wagon. That seemed to work well at least for the horse and Jennifer. By the time they were back at their house A nice comfy spot in the house seem to call to Jared. Curling up with eyes longing for sleep he subsequently drifted off. Even though night hadn’t fully arrived all of the girls with the one woman saw Jared sound asleep deciding that it would be good to get some rest as well. It was odd that the girls didn’t complain about going to be early, but Jennifer figured out that they were growing up and realized that sleep is best right now. Unlike what usually happens when the four are tying to get to sleep, their sleep went on for hours well into morning. Awakening to the sounds of birds singing while animals played in the nearby forest is something very comforting for these four settlers. All four walked outside took in the fresh scent of pine plus a cool wind coming from the forest. The young parents walked a few feet turned around held each other close gazing upon the house they’d built. “Pretty nice place huh Jenny?” “Yes indeed honey, a very nice place.” “You know what I think the first thing is that we should do today?” asked Jared with his eyes shinning brightly as though he were a younger boy that had just discovered a fascinating new toy. “No what sweetie?” “I think we should have our union ceremony today. What do you think about that?” “Ah… that would be great, but who is going to play the part of the minister?”

“We don’t need one. I told you that all we need is God’s blessing and we’ll be married. After all when people get married in front of a minister or justice of the peace they get a piece of paper telling them that they are married in the eyes of the town and state. But since we are out here alone and God is much bigger than any town or state, I don’t think he’ll mind if we have a union ceremony by ourselves.” “Fine with me, but how do we do it?” “Jenny all we have to do is write something to say to each other, then we ask for God to bless our union, then pray. How does that sound?” “Huh… I never thought of it being so easy… I say YES DEFINIATELY!” Jennifer along with Jared got the girls up then made breakfast. Shortly thereafter discussed where they would have the ceremony. Within minutes they all knew that the beach would be the perfect spot. Next the two “about to be married” parents went off in different directions to write their feelings for each other. The girls started to write some things they wanted to say at the union. Moments later they all met up walking like a loving family toward the beach. Upon reaching the beach Jared walked with Jennifer beside him to the water’s edge then said their vows to each other. The girls said what they had written. The newlyweds prayed then kissed. They hugged each other even as the girls came to them. On the way back to their house Jennifer thought of something that they’d have to do: change their last name. “Why do we need to change our last name,” asked Jared. “Well… my family, as you know weren’t the most law-abiding family. You’re parents on the other hand are gone. So basically since were starting a new family shouldn’t our name be new also? I wouldn’t want any friends of my folks to find out that I married you and come after me. And , you killed Clyde. Some of his friends may come looking for you too. Believe me you don’t want them to find you. If you think my folks are bad, that’s nothing compared to some of pa’s friends.” “But Jenny, how could they find us?”

“Pa told a good friend of his that we were coming out west. If I know Horace the way I think I do he’ll be coming out here very soon to find out why we haven’t returned.” “Well, I don’t think it’s necessary,” said Jared, “but if you want to we’ll change our name. But what do we change it to?” “I’ve got an idea. Let’s look at some of the stuff we took from the settler’s wagons, maybe they’ll have something with their name on it. We could use that as our last name.” On their way back they came upon the site of the Indian attack on the wagons. Everyone searched the remaining wagon for anything that had a name on it. They’d taken almost everything out of the remaining wagon. Finding something with a name on it wouldn’t be easy. Before long Jennifer found a canteen that had unusual name engraved on one of it’s sides: “Hey honey, how about this name?” She threw the canteen to Jared and he looked at the name. “Huh… Ayers. Not bad! At least it isn’t close to either of our names. That sounds good. Good, from now on we are the Ayers family. Huh, it even sounds like it fits us. Great Idea Jenny!”

Chapter 8

The Ayers family

The new Ayers family had a rough start in life. Now they were going on the right track for a happy prosperous existence. Jared with Jennifer always by his side began carving out the existence of Bonestown. It would take a lot of work plus help from settlers who had heard of a house of bones, which motivated them to come out west to see this marvel of engineering. Through the years dozens of settlers came to Bonestown making their new life in a new town. The town offered plenty of food and water. This small town grew until it became one of the biggest towns in the west. A distinction largely due to the promotion of the town by it’s founders, the Ayers family. As with anything new problems developed. The first was that of having a sheriff for the town. Gunfighters would come into town from time to time taking over the bar and the town: hurting, robbing, and killing whomever they wanted. By this time Jared had grown into a large man of six-foot-four-inches tall. During this time of growth and learning for Jared he had developed a rapid fire shooting technique that almost everyone envied. With that type of a reputation a lot of strangers would come into town challenging him to a fight: the winner walking away with his life. Jared always won, but knew that someday someone would be faster or smarter or both. Although he didn’t have a badge and there wasn’t really a jail most people thought of Jared as the sheriff. He didn’t want that honor. News of a man from Virginia who was very fast on the draw along with being a sheriff of a town about the size of Bonestown came to Jared so he had to send for him. About a month later the man arrived in Bonestown. His name was Jesse Hames. He had what appeared to be a solid gold plated gun belt with what looked like a solid gold gun resting comfortably in it’s sleeve. His black leather jacket and pants stood out against the gold of his belt and gun. The boots he wore were tipped with gold also, holding the dirt of a long trip easily upon their frame. He dismounted, brushed off some dirt gently taking off his hat. This too had a gold

band around the main portion of the hat. He stood about seven-feet-two-inches tall had a tight belly along with strong arms and legs that easily could have walked hundreds of miles without any problem whatsoever. Jesse surveyed the town from his vantage point as he picked up his saddlebags walking toward Jared. “Mighty nice town you got here sheriff.” “Oh I’m not the sheriff,” replied Jared, “I just took over the duties of a sheriff because we didn’t have anyone at the time and my town needed order.” “You’re town?” asked Jesse, stunned by the statement Jared had so easily made. “Ah… yes… my town. Oh wait… I guess I better explain. My name is Jared Ayers. I started this town a few years ago. I… I guess I call it my town because I helped build most of the buildings here and helped turn this place into a town where people can live and grow. Didn’t I mention that in the telegraph message I sent to you?” “Don’t rightly think so Ayers. Why don’t you want to be sheriff no more? Is there something you ain’t telling me boy?” Jared looked up and into his eyes as a child would that just had been chewed out for something they did wrong and said, “Why no, of course not! I’m just tired of being sheriff. It takes too much time away from my family. I want to expand my ranch and spend more time raising my family. I can’t do that and be sheriff too. You understand don’t you Jesse?” Jesse looked down at Jared, “Yeah I reckon so. I just don’t want no other fella’s problems you understand that Jared?” “Yep sure do. Tell you what, why don’t you go over to Bella’s hotel and check in, then get cleaned up and have some dinner at Sharon’s Hometown Diner. We can talk about the position later on or tomorrow.” “Well I could use some grub and a bath might be nice,” said Jesse, as he tipped his hat to Jared tied his horse up to the post sauntering over to the hotel. Jared smiled as he watched Jesse walk away. “You’ll do just fine Jesse, just fine,” he said as he walked into the makeshift sheriff’s office. Jared had made, with the help of Jennifer, a pretty good sheriff’s office, but it wasn’t the best sheriff’s office. It had two cells. But unfortunately the bars on the cells had been blown out by an attempted escape a year ago. Getting new bars from back east proved to be harder than Jared ever imagined. He’d just hoped

that there wouldn’t be any trouble where he had to lock up somebody. The only place he could use for that would have to be the livery stable. It only had one way in and out. Frank who ran the stable was almost as big as Jesse but quite a bit more around than Jesse, and wouldn’t take anything from anyone-no matter how tough they claimed to be. Jared put his badge on the desk, took off his holster, hung it on a peg behind the desk. He looked around the office saying to himself, “I’m not going to miss this place. Maybe now I can have a real life, raise a family. make this town into something special. And maybe, just maybe I’ll make a name for myself in the history books-that’d be something. He then walked out of the sheriff’s office, locked the door behind him and went over to the diner-hoping-that Jesse would either be there or would show up while he waited. Jared had just ordered coffee when he saw Jesse walk in wearing a tan leather jacket, the same color pants and what looked like rattlesnake skin covered boots. Jared wondered if he made the right decision in picking Jesse. He hadn’t seen anyone that changed clothes so often or anyone that always wore leather. It was too late to think twice about his selection. Jesse was here and despite how he dressed he was the best man for the job within two hundred miles of Bonestown. Jared and Jesse talked for a while as Jesse devoured his dinner then the two of them went over to the bar spending hours drinking and talking about Bonestown and what Jared wanted from Jesse as a sheriff. Jared hadn’t realized that time had ed quickly until Jennifer showed up at the bar. When she saw Jared she walked over to him with a stern look on her face. Jared looked at her realizing what he’d done. It was almost as if he could see fire coming out of her head and the look of anger on her face shook Jared to the bone. Of course Jesse saw this also and smiled as he said, “I reckon I ought to leave you two alone. Ma’am.” With that said Jesse left and Jennifer took his vacated seat. Jared just sat there trying not to look that guilty as Jennifer ripped into him about not coming home for dinner and spending time drinking at the bar. Jared tried to explain that Jesse is the new sheriff that Jared was just trying to make him feel welcome-that didn’t work well at all. By the time Jennifer had finished chewing Jared out he felt like he was three feet tall and that everyone in town knew that his wife made all the decisions in the family. Of course Jared knew that he and Jennifer shared the marital duties plus deep down inside he knew the town knew what he was really like. It was just a very uneasy feeling having your wife give you hell when you’re in a bar drunk as a skunk. Jared stumbled to his feet, lifted his half empty glass and sputtered, “Well, what

a beer you lacking at huh?” He didn’t talk well when he had twelve too many beers. He dropped his glass. “Oops my beer dropped my glass,” he said as he tried to walk upright toward the entrance to the bar. Jennifer waited for him outside but couldn’t help but laugh at the way he tried to talk. She put his arm around her shoulder helping him into the wagon she drove into town on. Before she told Jared how she felt she’d gone to the dry goods store and filled up the back of the wagon with supplies for their trip to Waterford tomorrow. Over the years the Ayers family had made many friends in the Waterford area. Jared would travel to Waterford once a month to pick up supplies he couldn’t get in Bonestown. It just so happened that Jennifer would be going with him this time. The kids were older now and could take care of the ranch while they were gone plus Jared wanted to talk to one of his best friends about helping him expand the footprint of Bonestown, thereby creating the biggest city in this part of the world. Jennifer had to keep grabbing Jared’s shirt as she drove the wagon back to their ranch. He was so out of it every time she’d hit a bump Jared would bounce almost falling off of the seat. By the time she pulled up in front of their house Jared had fallen asleep on her shoulder. She managed to get him out of the wagon into the house. The next day Jared woke with a huge headache not ing anything about the night before except that he’d told Jesse that he and his family would be gone for about two weeks and to keep the town safe while he was gone. The sun had just started coming up over the horizon. Jared said goodbye to their children while Jennifer hugged each one and said a sweet goodbye to each. Within minutes after that they were on their way to Waterford. The ride toward Waterford seemed to always have problems for the two along with being a hard ride. There is no easy way to get there. No roads of any consequence lead to Waterford so traveling to that city had to be from memory most of the time. Fortunately for Jared, he’d driven this route so many times he could do it with his eyes closed. That happened to be a good thing for them because about half way there they ran into a huge dust storm followed by a bigger rainstorm. At one point they had to take shelter in an abandoned cave to wait out the storm. Storm’s aren’t normal for this time of year so it kind-of took them by surprise. The view from the cave gave them a revealing glimpse to a lightning show they wouldn’t forget. Their horses started to stir, but this cave was big enough for the wagon with the horses so they were safely away from any harm. Lighting with storms can be relaxing if you’re very tired. For Jared and Jennifer it happened to be so relaxing they fell asleep quickly.

The next day came upon them softly. So softly they almost slept away the morning. If it hadn’t been for the brightness of the sun with the sounds of the desert waking up they probably would have slept until early afternoon. That wouldn’t be good if they were going to keep to their schedule. Jared had allowed for weather conditions changing and for a few other unforeseen things that might happen so waiting out a storm didn’t concern them. What did concern them was the fact that the desert floor had been pounded by the storm and sat sopping wet. Not good conditions for horses or a wagon being pulled by them. Nevertheless, the two of them plunged forward making it to Waterford right on time, although a little worse for wear. Willie and Annie had been friends along with partners in business deals with Jared and Jennifer for about ten years. The four of them had many an adventure plus a few wild surprises along the way. Consequently, the four were inseparable. Nothing could keep them apart, aside from miles away from each other and death-both of which would be put to the test very soon.

Chapter 9

Mind’s Eye

The controlling partners of the Ayers family stayed in Waterford a little longer than they’d planned on, but knew their house and the town was in good hands. Their friends had discovered a series of caverns not far from where they lived and were eager to show their friends from Bonestown the unusual caverns. Jennifer was apprehensive, considering what she’d gone through just a few years ago, before she had grown up too fast venturing into a new life as mother and wife of someone she knew little about. But today she thought that maybe it would be time to get over her fears living her life the way she wanted, not the way her emotions dictated based on what she thought had been right to this point. On the third day for their stay, the four took a ride south of Waterford to the caverns that Willie and Annie told them about. Apparently, the miles upon miles of underground rock formations were so odd and different that Willie and Annie couldn’t stop talking about what the two of them experienced when they found the first of many tunnel-like creations just inside the opening of the cave. To have caves the likes of which have never been seen before in this area were a real find, especially when Willie hinted to Jared that there might be more to the caverns than just unusual formations. Veins of shimmering amber spotted the caverns. It was something that wasn’t prevalent in this area yet plus the first people to find the veins could be rich beyond their dreams or wants. Of course Jared wasn’t a fool. Trying to get large amounts of money for what those veins consisted of didn’t really excite Jared. The caves were underground not that easy to find. While approaching the location where Willie had said the cave entrance was located, Jared gazed a full three hundred and sixty degrees not seeing anything unusual. “Where is it?” Jared asked. Willie turned to him and said, “See those bushes against that mound of rocks,” “Ah… yeah… is that it?” “Yep Jared, all we have to do is move those bushes away a bit and we’ll be face to face with the entrance to something you’ll never believe. The four moved over to the bushes dismounted from their horses then tied them to bushes that were heavily

grounded in the earth. While the Waterford’s pulled away the bushes Jared and Jennifer looked at each other as if to say, “What are we doing here?” Before they could think of an answer Willie yelled out, “Okay guys we can go in now.” The four crawled through a tight opening into a huge chamber. They all stood up. Jared gazed at one side of the chamber while Jennifer looked at another side. Lanterns they’d brought with them were lit and lifted out in front of themselves as they were amazed, even with what little light the lanterns held, that the large open area had so many unusual items hanging down from what people would call the ceiling in addition to ones jutting up from the ground. “My word Jared look at all this… it’s… it’s amazing!” said Jennifer walking toward one of the walls to examine it more closely. “Yep it sure is,” answered Willie. “That’s why we wanted to show it to you. We knew you’d be amazed as we were when we found it.” Jared looked at Jennifer with a look of extreme excitement saying, “Wow this is something alright. Willie, what do you call these things hanging down from the ceiling also the things that look like ice coming up from the ground?” “Don’t know Jared. We haven’t named them yet. What would you call them?” “Huh I have no idea Willie, but since you found this cave you should name them, don’t you think?” Willie thought for a minute and said, “I’ve got it! How about we call the ice hanging from the ceiling Willienoms and the one’s coming up from the floor Anniemons? How does that sound? Jared looked at Jenny while fighting to keep from laughing at the names and eventually said, “They sound good to us. So Willie you’ve named these ice things what about naming the cave? You did find something really great and exciting so the cave should be named by you-what do you think these caves should be called?” Willie looked at Annie then walked around studying the interior of the main cave finally stating, “Waterford Caverns… that’s it… that’s what it should be called. After all that’s my last name. Don’t people usually name things after their last name?” Jennifer answered, “I think in this case you can do anything you like.” “Then Waterford Caverns it is.” The four adventurers continued to look at all the beauty the cave offered. There was a small pond in front of them where water ran to it from an elevated layer of rocks. The afternoon sun shone through a small opening in the top of the cave as a rainbow could be seen from every angle. Jared spotted a formation of rocks that looked very odd and walked over to them. He was amazed that they were attached to the wall but looked as though they had just been placed there as a marker. Jared bent down thought about touching one of

the rocks when he felt a stinging sensation in his left hand. Seconds later he saw a tomahawk laying silently in his hand. His eyes grew big. Just as he was about to toss it to the ground he looked into the metal of the tomahawk offering what appeared to be an Indian’s face coming toward Jared just as the face was about to explode from the tomahawk it vanished and quickly replaced by a partially familiar site. Jared’s town that he’d put so much hard work and love into-it had been burnt to the ground. Only part of buildings could be seen, walls, fronts of stores, in some cases just one wall was left of what used to be a two story building. A lot of townsfolk lay dead on the main street into Bonestown. Jared screamed! Jennifer, with the Waterford’s behind her, ran over to him. Jennifer pulled him to her and said, “What… what is it sweetie?” “The tomahawk… it came alive in my hand. I saw an Indian coming toward me and our town… it had been burned to the ground. All the people that were there were burnt and lay dead or dying on the main street. Oh lord it was horrible!” “Sweetie… you don’t have a tomahawk and their isn’t any one around here.” Jared looked at Jennifer as tears collected in his eyes quickly gazing down toward his hand, which now had nothing residing on it. He looked around the area and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. “What’s happening to me?” “I don’t know Jared,” replied Jennifer, “but you haven’t had visions like this in years. I wonder why it’s happening now.” Willie asked, “You’ve had things like this happen before?” Before Jared could answer Jennifer said, “Well he had these kind of things when we first met and for a few years after that, but I thought it was because of the way we met and what we had to survive at that time. You me telling you about that when we first met-right?” Willie and Allie nodded saying, “yes” almost at the same time. “C’mon Jared,” said Jennifer, “Maybe we just need to get out of this cave into some fresh air.”

I’m sure that will help. You feel okay now Jared?” “Yes… maybe… huh I don’t know. It’s funny those visions all came on so fast I didn’t have time to react. One minute I’m fine, the next I’m screaming like a baby.” “I know honey,” replied Jennifer, “but let’s get out of here back to Annie and Willie’s place. Maybe we should stay overnight there. It would mean another day here but I think you could use the rest. Is that okay with you Annie?” “Why certainly Jenny. We don’t get many friends here from Bonestown so we’d be glad to have you stay another night.” “Thank you,” said Jared as the four ventured out of the cave toward their horses. Jared got on his horse, brought his hand up in view, trying to keep the others from noticing. Something odd had begun. Now with this current vision it wasn’t just a reaction to the turmoil and trouble they’d experienced as they started their lives together, it was and is something permanent, plus being thought of as “crazy” scared Jared more than anything he’d seen or done so far in his life. While the four of them rode back to the Waterford’s place Jared couldn’t help thinking about what all this meant. “Am I going crazy? If I am what am I going to do about it? There aren’t any doctor’s here in Waterford or even in Bonestown that would know what to do to help me. Hell, they’d probably lock me up and throw away the key. People who aren’t like others are tended to be shied away from and though of as freaks or, as Jared thought, crazy.” They made it back to Willie and Annie’s place rather quickly. Brightness from the sun began to dim the closer it got to the horizon line. They took the saddles off of their horses and escorted them into the barn then into individual stalls. Tired with their clothes covered with mud, all of them walked back toward the Waterford’s house. Jennifer secured Jared’s hand and cuddling at times as they walked while Willie led the way with Annie close behind. After entering the Waterford’s house Jared asked if they had anything to eat. Willie answered with, “Well those visions or whatever they were didn’t affect your appetite did they Jared?” Jared smiled saying, “Nothing affects my appetite, especially when I’m tired and starving.” Annie smiled at Jennifer while responding to Jared, “Sure Jared I can whip up some good food that’ll fill that stomach of yours real good and make you sleep really well tonight. You just relax over there on that couch

and I’ll get busy.” Jared thanked her speedily taking his place on the old wooden couch. It had seen better days, probably better years, but to Jared it was heaven. It didn’t take long before everyone could hear Jared sawing logs breathing in and out so loud Jennifer was surprised that he didn’t stir the horses in the barn. Of course Jennifer knew all about Jared’s snoring prowess, She’d lived with him for so many years that she was used to hearing the constant struggle to inhale and exhale through his system. Soon after Jared slipped off. Shortly after that supper was ready and Annie told Jennifer that it would be a good idea to wake Jared or he’d miss out on a very good dinner. Jennifer smiled, then got up from the rocking chair next to the couch leaned in to give Jared a kiss. What she got instead of a loving response was that of a tormented soul. Jared jumped up grabbed Jennifer by the neck beginning to squeeze as if his life depended on eliminating Jennifer’s. She gasped for air while hitting Jared repeatedly. Annie was the first to notice this, then Willie saw what was happening as the two rushed over to help. It took both of them to pull Jared from Jennifer. Jennifer now sat on the wooden floor still trying to get her breath. Willie started to wail in on Jared as though Jared had just killed his son. Jennifer managed to speak as best she could, in a muffled voice, “Stop! Stop it Willie! Jared doesn’t know what he’s doing! Look at his eyes-he’s not normal. There is something wrong with him. Just tie him to a chair. Give him time to calm down. He should be okay in a few minutes.” “Have you seen this happen before?” asked Willie. “No,” replied Jennifer, “but I know what he’s gone though over the years. I think that I’m beginning to know him well. This isn’t like him at all. He’s not thinking straight. Maybe another nightmare, just give him some time to calm down.” “I don’t know,” said Annie, “He’s acting mighty strange. Your life could be in danger you know. If we hadn’t been here he might have killed you!” “That wouldn’t happen,” replied Jennifer as she struggled to get the words out of her throat that had been shortened before regaining its normal size to within an inch of collapsing as tears eased forward through her tight eyes. “Trust me I know Jared. There is something else going on here. I don’t know what it is or why it’s happening but it seems to have started back when we met each other. All that death around us affected both of us. He was a strong man then, stronger than he is now but that comes with the years that have ed by. We all are less

able to handle life the older we get. But with Jared it’s different.” “Ah Jenny we’ve known Jared for a number of years,” replied Willie, “I know this isn’t like him-he’s not this kind of person.” “Then what do we do?” asked Annie, “We can’t just let this go as if nothing happened.” “That might be the best way,” said Willie, “Look at him he’s out cold. I bet when he wakes up he won’t a thing. If we tell him what happened, he’ll think we’re all crazy.” “You want to bet Jenny’s life on that?” asked Annie with a tone as if to say, “Yeah right and pigs can fly too!” “Look I think it’s best to do what Willie said for now,” said Jennifer sitting down to gain full composure of herself. “If he starts up again then we’ve got a real problem. I’ll do whatever you want, short of shooting him, to keep us safe. How does that sound?”

Chapter 10

Ghosts of the mind

Jared began to stir while Willie and Annie surrounded him just waiting for him to try to escape or worse, go for Jennifer again. That didn’t happen. Jared shook his head looked up then tired to move realizing that he’d been tied to a chair. “What’s going on here? Why am I tied up like this? What happened?” Jennifer moved in close. “Honey you… well… you went crazy there for a few minutes and grabbed me by the neck and kept squeezing. Willie and Annie had to pull you off.” “What? That’s crazy! I’d never do anything like that… I… I love you Jenny why would I hurt you?” He began to lean forward but was held back by the rope wrapped tightly several times around him. “Damn it! Get this off of me! I’m fine! Untie me!’ “Well sweetie we need to make sure so we’ll keep you tied up for now. In a few hours we’ll untie you if things are normal we can get on our way back home.” Jared kept yelling and trying to get loose. Jennifer went into the bedroom laid on the bed crying endlessly. Willie looked at Annie and they knew what had to be done. Annie walked to the bedroom door knocking gently. Jennifer said, “Come in,” as Annie opened the door quietly walking in. Annie was good at comforting people. She’d had a lot of experience in previous years, all of which would come in handy now. After about an hour Annie had succeeded in helping Jennifer get back to normal. Meanwhile Willie was doing the same with Jared he too had had good luck in bringing Jared back to what would be considered a normal frame of mind for Jared. Willie started untying Jared when Allie and Jennifer came out of the bedroom. Jared saw Jennifer and vice/versus. Jared couldn’t get out of the rope fast enough as he tired to help Willie free him from his temporary jail. When free Jared bolted to Jennifer, they embraced as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. As time ed Willie and Allie noticed that their two friends were becoming more amorous. Annie walked over, opened the bedroom door, moved her arm out to suggest that they go in shutting the door behind them.

It appeared as though the Ayers were in there for hours. Eventually, Willie and Annie fell asleep in each other’s arms on the couch. All four of them slept through the night. Jared with Jennifer in his arms had the best sleep while Willie kept waking up with backaches with a strong desire for bacon and eggs. Annie tried to sleep but found it hard with Willie waking up so often. Ultimately, they both got up at the same time. “Oh Damn it Willie I forgot about how uncomfortable that couch is. We should have never slept there last night. After all we do have two bedrooms.” “Yeah you’re right,” replied Willie as he haphazardly got up from the couch. “I wonder if Jared and Jenny are up yet?” “Not likely I imagine,” answered Annie. “They were very lovey-dovey last night. Hell I’d be surprised if they wake up before noon today. But, the smell of eggs and bacon may just stir them to wake up.” “Ou… Annie the smell of bacon and eggs sounds really good right now. You putting cinnamon in the eggs like you usually do?” “You bet you I am. That’s what I’m known for around these parts.” “Well that should wake them up. I know I couldn’t resist the smell of them eggs and bacon even if I were in a deep sleep. Well while you’re doing that I’ll go feed the horses. You let me know when breakfast is ready.” “It won’t be much longer Willie. Why don’t you just wait until breakfast is ready then feed the horses?” “Na… if I don’t feed them now I’ll forget about it. You do the last time that happened. Those damn horses seem to have a mind of their own and wouldn’t budge until they were fed-?” “Yeah, yeah… okay. Just come when I call you I don’t want to come hunting for you, you here me William?” “No problem, just yell and I’ll come a running.” Willie got dressed for the cold outdoor weather leaving the house dressed as if he were going to Alaska. The Waterford’s were right about the smell of good home cooking arousing people’s senses. Jared walked out of the bedroom rubbing his eyes with Jennifer holding

onto his pants rubbing her eyes as well. “Boy does that smell good-eggs and bacon?” said Jared “Yep sure does Jared. You guys ready to eat?” “Hell yes,” replied Jared, “I could eat a horse.” “Huh,” answered Annie, “We have enough problems without you eating our stock. All of them got a chuckle out of Annie’s humor. It was just what they needed. “I’ll go call Willie, he’s out feeding the horses. You guys sit down. Help yourself to the food, just leave some for usokay Jared?” Jared turned toward Annie and said, “Yep sure thing Annie.” Annie left the house, went out toward the barn and began calling for Willie. The sun came over the horizon but at times blinded Annie with it’s brightness. She kept calling for Willie but not getting a response. “Damn it William Markerson Waterford you answer me right now you hear me!” Still nothing but the birds and the rustle of the horses licking up hay could be heard as Annie opened the barn door. “Willie you still in here?” A muffled noise came from the other end of the barn. She ran as fast as she could in her bare feet toward the sound. When she reached the other side of the barn she found Willie sitting on the ground and wiping blood from his face. “Willie what happened? Are you alright?” “Yeah I’m fine, I just tripped over that rake and hit my head against the wall. Boy does that hurt.” “You idiot! I told you not to do this before breakfast. Now look at yourself. You’ve hit your head and who knows if you’ve hurt yourself more than you realize. Hell Willie you could have some sort of head injury. That cut looks pretty deep.” “Don’t worry about it I’ve had worse things happen to me. It’s just a cut that’s all. I’ll be fine. Is breakfast ready yet?” Annie gave him a look of distain and said, “Yes it’s ready. But you need to have a doctor look at that cut before it gets too bad.” “Okay, okay I’ll have doctor Rivers in Bonestown look at it. He’s much better than our doctor. Don’t worry we’ll wrap my head with some bandages that will keep it from getting worse. You happy now?” “No! But I know when you’re like this it’s easier just to go along with what you want to do. I swear Willie you were born with two left feet. Do you realize that this is, I think, the tenth time this year that you’ve hurt yourself. I’m beginning to think that you should have somebody be with you all the time just in case you mess up again-what do you think about that?” “I don’t know. I think, right now, we need to get going to Bonestown and help

Jared make Bonestown a much larger town than anything on this side of the state.” “Okay fine Willie let’s get going. Jared and Jennifer are up. I hope they left us some food. When we get into the house I’ll get some bandages, cover that wound, then you and I can eat while the two of them pack up their saddlebags for their trip back to Bonestown. Annie brought Willie in the house, gently holding him up with her arm and sat him down at the breakfast table. She went into their bedroom as Jennifer came out of the other bedroom with her saddlebags in tow. “Wow Willie what happened to you?” asked Jennifer, as she walked over to him. “Aw it’s nothing. I just tripped on a rake in the barn. I hit my head against the wall. I’ll be okay. Annie went to get some bandages. She said that you two should get all your stuff together and saddle up your horses so that we can leave as soon as she bandages my head and we get something to eat.” “You sure you’re okay?” asked Jennifer as she pulled back some of his hair to look at the wound. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine, I just need Annie to bandage my head and It’ll be fine. About this time Jared came out of the bedroom with his saddlebag. “What the hell happened to you Willie? You trip on something? “Well you know me Jared I tend to have accidents every so often. But you guys get your stuff ready so we can leave as soon as possible. Don’t worry about me. You know I’m the clumsy one around here. Get going before Annie comes back or she’ll throw a fit. You know how she can get sometimes. “Where’s Annie,” asked Jared ‘She’s getting bandages, she’ll be right back Jared honey.” The Ayers went outside into the barn where they saddled up their horses then walked them out of the barn, over to the front of the house. “What do you think about Willie?” asked Jared, “shouldn’t he see a doctor? That wound looks mighty deep.” “Jared honey you know Annie, she’ll make sure he’s taken care of. I don’t know how she’s put up with his clumsiness all these years.” “Jenny sweetie, it’s called love.”. Annie had bandaged Willie’s head up pretty well and both of them were eating the rest of the eggs and bacon. Annie motioned for them to sit down. Annie started to talk to Jennifer with her back turned away from Willie when Jared noticed that Willie’s wound had started to bleed through the bandages. He pointed to Willie and said, “I think you’re going to need more bandages.” Annie looked at Willie and yelled, “Damn it Willie I told you that wound was worse than you thought. We’re going into town. You have to see doc Banker. I don’t care if he isn’t as good as Rivers, he can at least give you something for the pain maybe even do a better job of closing the wound. “Hey Jared would you mind staying here taking care of the place while we’re gone. I don’t like to leave the horses and all our animals alone

unless I have to?” “Ah… sure don’t worry, everything will be fine. Just take care of Willie and make sure Banker isn’t drunk like he usually is. You don’t need a drunk trying to fix Willie.” “Huh… you got that right Jared. Don’t you worry about that I’ll make sure that Willie is taken care of-the right way. Jared decided that maybe Willie didn’t have time to finish feeding the horses. It might be a good idea to check on them. “Jenny, I think I’d better check on Willie’s horses. He might not have been able to feed all of them before he hurt himself. “That sounds like a good idea. There sure are a lot of things around here that need to be cleaned up. I’ll do that while your busy with the horses. If I get done before you I’ll come out to help you. How does that sound?” “That sounds great. I’ll see you soon.” Jared left the house heading toward the barn. When he reached the barn he saw the rake that Willie tripped over and the dent he’d made in the wall, along with some of Willie’s blood. “Boy that guy can get into more trouble than anyone I’ve ever seen. “Good thing Annie is around to help him. Hell, he might be dead by now if it weren’t for her.” Jared found a rag and used it to wipe the blood off the rake off, put it up against the wall. Afterward he went over to the horses. Jared was right only one horse had been fed so Jared grabbed the rake again shoveling hay into the all the horses stalls. Willie had eight horses in the barn. Two he’d just bought from a farmer about a month ago. Then Jared saw something he’d only heard about. Never did he think he’d ever see one. It had been called a Palomino and was gold in color, with a white main along with a white tail. Jared walked petted the horse as it returned a small gaze to him. “This is something! Where did Willie get this horse?” He never said anything about a Palomino. Maybe he didn’t want prying eyes to come out to his ranch thereby garnering a look, or worse yet, try to steal it. The horse felt smooth to the touch, not like most other horses that were relatively smooth but had some areas that were worn, mainly because of a lot of saddle usage, but this horse… now this horse was special. Someone had taken great care to see that she wasn’t ridden long. But if she was taken for a ride she had been cared for with loving hands afterward. Jared now had only thoughts about this horse or how he could get one like it. He just walked around the horse petting it while rubbing his hand along the main and tail. Jared looked at the side of the stall and saw a saddle. A quick thought about putting the saddle on the horse and ridding it jumped to the forefront of his mind. The more he looked at the horse with the saddle nearby the more eager he was to saddle her up for a ride. Just about the time that he’d decided to take her for a ride a feeling came over him-not a good feeling-but one he’d experienced before. Without warning

he felt dizzy. His head started to tilt toward the roof of the barn as he fell backward landing on the hay strewn ground with a loud thud. Jared stayed awake for about three seconds before he ed out. He’d never felt anything like this. Usually if something like this happens he es out right away not realizing what had just happened. This wasn’t a normal situation. Jared knew when he was awake for those few seconds that something unusual would happen. It didn’t take long for his unconscious mind to bring forth some very disturbing images. Jared saw himself running away from Indian’s as they shot arrow after arrow at him. Some missed by inches, some hit him hard in the back and legs. He also felt the majority of gunshot wounds hit his legs and back. Soon he couldn’t run anymore, falling facedown onto the dirt. He wasn’t dead yet but very close. Someone turned him over. Through what vision he had left he saw what he thought was an Indian chief. The chief bent down whispering in his ear. “You are number two. Soon more will die.” Then the chief dropped Jared’s head. Jared woke up screaming at the top of his lungs as he never knew he could.” In looking around a realization took place that it was just a bad dream. He thought, “Why would I have a dream during the day? It makes no sense. Ever since we got here things have been really strange. Is it this area or am I going crazy. I’d better feed these horses quickly then get back to the house. The last thing I need is to have Jenny know that I had more visions. “I can’t say for sure,” he said in his mind. “but if what I just experienced is a dream maybe it’s a foretelling of how I’m going to die. Oh lord I hope not. That’s a terrible way to go.” Jared shook off the dream feeding the rest of the horses hoping that would take his mind off of what happened, but still having a great desire to ride the Palomino but knew that wouldn’t be possible. Just as he finished feeding the last horse he heard a familiar voice from behind him. “What’s taking you so long Jared? I’ve finished the house. I thought you would have been back by now. Are you getting slower in your old age?” She smiled as she said that. Jared gave her a look as if to say, “Yeah right. I’m not that old yet.” “No I’m not,” he replied just making sure they are all fed, that’s all.” “Well c’mon let’s get back to the house. Willie and Annie should be back soon then we can get going back to Bonestown. Besides, the sun is coming over the horizon. I love watching that with you by my side. We can easily see it from the porch.” Jared wanted to tell her about the Palomino but didn’t know how she’d react thinking the best thing to do would be to leave well enough alone. He’d tell her eventually, it might be back in Bonestown, but he’d tell her someday. Right now as they walked back to

the house Jared thought about Bonestown, what he’d seen in his vision, wondering if any of it may have a strand of truth to it. Then again, he can’t see the future, nobody can. Still, he doubted that it was more than just a bad dream or something strange happening to his thinking processes. Either way now is a time to get on with his life not dwell on things he can’t explain. Jared’s had too many bad things happen to him anything more would almost be impossible to handle. The sun had rose a small amount above the horizon line when Jared and Jennifer saw the Waterford’s come riding back into their view. Willie had his head bandaged so much that it looked like the top of his head was one big bandage. This time however, there was no blood seeping through it or skating down Willie’s face. They rode up to the porch dismounted. While Annie tied their horses on the railing Willie went over to Jared asking him how the two of them were doing. It was obvious that Willie was in a very good mood. The doctor must have given him some “happy juice” as Willie likes to call it. Annie laughed at how happy Willie appeared. “Well it looks like the doc fixed him up really well,” said Jared lurching forward stopping Willie from tripping over the steps up to the porch. “How are you doing Jazee and you Pannie? I’m doing grrr… well you know how I’m doing. Yee-haa that doc has got to give me some more of that stuff. What… wha… what was that… tha… you know whatever it was he gave me Ann… ?” “I don’t know Willie, but he might have given you too much. What do you think Jared?” “I think he gave him just the right amount. All we have to do is get him to bed. I think he’ll sleep for days.” “But Jared that’ll mean we won’t be able to go back to Bonestown for a few days more.” “Annie… you’re right, but our children are taking care of the ranch they’ll be okay. Huh, they’ll probably be glad we aren’t around for a few days more. I need Willie to help me start building the new part of Bonestown, so we’ll have to wait for that stuff to wear off.” “That’s right Panny… we’ll have to wait to go to… Boneytunes. So… our… what’s that… feels like my stomach is going to explode.” “Quick Annie help me get him into bed before he throws up all over your porch.” Annie took hold of one side of Willie while secured the other side. They helped Willie into the bedroom then into the bed. It was a good thing they did that when they did Willie started throwing up not stopping for an hour or more. “Wait a minute,” said Jennifer, “Couldn’t you and I start the next phase of Bonestown? When Willie is better he can us? That way we’ll have started some of it anyway. We wouldn’t have to wait a few days more if we did that.

Wouldn’t that work?” Jared thought about what Jennifer proposed for a few seconds stating, “You know Jenny you’re right. We built Bonestown from the ground up there is no reason why we can’t start the second part of it by ourselves. That settles it! Annie you take good care of Willie. When he’s better you two can come to Bonestown to help us with the rest of the town. How does that sound to you?” “That’s fine with me. I know that if Willie knew you were still here he’d want to go back with you as soon as possible. This way I can help him get better before we leave for Bonestown.” With the end of that conversation the Ayers walked out to their horses, untied them from the post mounting them with ease. “You guys take it easy going back,” said Annie as a shiver of cold ran through her body. “Looks like there may be a storm on your way back to Bonestown.” Jared looked toward the north while ominous clouds gathered in the distance. “We ran into a storm coming down here,” said Jared, “so I doubt if we’ll have any problems, but we’ll be careful don’t worry about that Annie.”

Chapter 11

Bonestown-A new facade

Home would be a long journey back, especially if the storm hit. Jared kept thinking about the Palomino he’d seen in the barn. He wanted that horse desperately. The farther away from the Waterford’s place the stronger the urge grew to go back to see if he could buy the horse. He knew that Jennifer would throw a fit if he went back but after debating the situation he concluded that he’d wait until Willie and Annie came to Bonestown, then he’d take Willie aside to ask him about the horse. Doing that would allow him to still think about the horse without having to tell Jennifer what was happening in his mind at any given time. The trip back to their home seemed to go better than the trip down to see the Waterford’s. This time they didn’t run into any storms, even though the sky ahead of them always appeared as though it would burst forth with rain without even a drizzle to warn anyone. They stopped at the cave that they had taken shelter at on the way down to Waterford for a small period of rest. Nothing of any consequence bothered them while they traveled back to their home. That as it turned out would be good, they would have enough problems when they reached Bonestown. Any other trying situations might make going through what waited for them at home too much to handle. By the time they reached the boundaries of the land they bought for Bonestown including it’s expansion they saw something that concerned them. Both of the young Ayers family looked at each other as if to silently say, “What is going on down there?” Smoke rose from Bonestown. From the position they were in they couldn’t see past the trees that lined the entrance to their town. “Ah Jenny it’s probably just Charlie McCready starting a fire in front of his partially built house. You know they don’t have a roof on it yet so he’s probably having problems starting the fire considering all the rain it looks like they’ve had here recently. I mean look at the ground it’s soaked so that storm must have ed through here.” “I don’t know Jared I have a funny feeling about this. It isn’t good. Let’s get down there. If it’s Charlie we’ll know the closer we get toward town, you know his fires always

smell bad or maybe it’s something else. Who knows but we need to find out what’s going soon” “Good idea Jenny, let’s see what is really going on in my town.” They rode toward the town so fast that Jared’s hat blew off-something that very rarely happens. As they came upon the town shock covered their faces. It wasn’t Charlie trying to start a fire, it was part of a building still smoldering as a result of being burned. The whole town had been burned. Nothing left but shells of what stores and other businesses had been. People who were in the streets were burned. Some had managed to escape the fire but were shot several times. At first Jared thought it might have been an Indian raid, But Indians usually take scalps not many of them use guns. Jared dismounted walking over to one side of the street. Jennifer did the same on the other side of the street. Jared couldn’t believe what had happened. A lot of his friends either burned or were shot, or both. It made him sick throwing up several times the farther down the street he walked. Then he heard it-a scream-a definite and pronounced scream-he knew where it came from. Jared looked over to the other side of the street and saw Jennifer sitting on the porch outside of what used to be the bar. She held a girl in her hands. When Jared saw the girl he knew it was his daughter, even though she was badly bruised and burnt. While he soared over to Jennifer he looked around the area where she was sitting, He knew that his daughter and son were inseparable and that his son would undoubtedly be nearby. It didn’t take him long to find his son, well what had been left of him. He’d been shot plus run over by what looked like horses pulling a wagon. The wheel prints were still visible on his son’s head and chest. The deep indentation made by the wagon wheels on his son drew Jared to think that the wagon had been fully loaded when they ran him down. A small drop of blood eased its way down from his son’s chest to his stomach where it stopped seeping into a bullet hole. By now Jared was furious fighting to hold tears back from view. Instantly he shoved his hand through the remains of a burnt wall. Kicked in the side of another wall then drew his gun firing aimlessly into the air above his head. A few seconds later Jennifer put her arm around him as they fell to the ground weeping. Ultimately, they talked for a few minutes then agreed on a plane of action. Jared found a shovel at the hardware store across the street. He dug two graves behind the bar and buried his children. Jennifer couldn’t stop her emotions. Jared wanted their graves to be near where they were killed. His

thinking made him believe that their souls would linger nearby even if only for a few days. If their attackers ever came back somehow their spirits would let Jared know and he could avenge their death.

Chapter 12

Bonestown, the rebuild and the hunt

The Ayers family had been through so much that it is a wonder they both didn’t try to kill themselves. No one they ever met or anyone they ever heard of had gone through what they had in their life. Both of them were at their wits end. Jared wasn’t a quitter, neither was Jennifer. That had to be the glue that held them together. They would rebuild their town better than it had been. A larger, more beautiful town than anyone had ever seen. These two had lost their family and Jennifer, when she was just in her teens, lost her biological family the same as Jared did at that time. Jared re-thought his idea of a new sheriff taking over for him. Jared would be the sheriff for good this time. A thought kept nagging at him, “who destroyed my town and who killed my children.” He knew that Jennifer felt the same way but she kept those feelings bottled up, which isn’t like her, so Jared had begun to worry about her mental state. One thing he didn’t need right now would be Jennifer having emotional problems. He had enough to be concerned about much less the added pressure of keeping his wife sane would drive him into the same emotional state. The town didn’t show any evidence as to whom had done this so Jared speculated on what would be the reason for someone being so destructive and violent, plus killing people without regard for the consequences. Neither Jared nor Jennifer had any enemies that they knew of so their thoughts turned to just some wild bunch of drunken cowboys out for a night of attacking women, drinking, and killing. If that were the case eventually they’d become sober. Jared began to formulate a plan in his mind as Jennifer looked upon him. “You’re… you’re planning something aren’t you honey? You have that look in your eyes. If you are I want in on it. I want to find whoever did this to our town, killed our children and make them pay dearly for what they’ve done!” “I agree with you sweetheart but where do we start?” replied Jared, “I have no clue as to what happened here. Other than someone burnt down these buildings

killing everyone in sight. I doubt the Indians did this they’d want scalps. None of these people are scalped-thank God. I’m positive it had to be drunken cowboys, or some outlaws bent on destroying everything they came into with, I don’t know who would do such a thing, but I sure as hell am going to find out if it kills me. Wait… wait a minute, if they were drunk they might be close by trying to sleep it off. We might just be able to find them and-as you say-make them pay for what they’ve done. Are you up for a little hunting Jenny? “I think you know the answer to that sweetie. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life! Well, except being with you. What about this town all the bodies and damage to the buildings? Shouldn’t we do something, after all this is our town, we created all these buildings with our bare hands with some help from other settlers.” Jared looked at his wife with love welling up inside and hatred for the people who would do this and said, “The town is gone. The people are dead including our children. I think the best honor we can give all these people is to find then kill the men who did this. I’m sure the souls of their victims will rest after that. Then we can start rebuilding our town. Jared looked up toward the sky while storm clouds began tumbling into town. “Those clouds look like they might hamper our search. We might want to wait till morning to hunt for them. By that time Willie and Annie should be here. I’m sure they’d want to help us.” “But sweetheart, I don’t know if I can wait that long. Our children are… are dead and all our friends are gone. Do you really want a little rain to stop us from seeking revenge for all this?” “No Jenny I don’t. But if that storm gets to be as big as I think it will there also might be a lot of swirling dust around. Then we wouldn’t be able to see straight. Besides if that storm is as bad as it looks they won’t be going anywhere either. I do know that a good nights rest will be good for both of us. That way when we do start out tomorrow we’ll both be ready physically and mentally able to handle anything, providing neither of us has nightmares about what happened here?” “Ah… Alright Jared, despite my misgivings about it we’ll stay here overnight and set out tomorrow with Willie and Annie. Shouldn’t we have some sort of funeral for our children? Don’t they deserve that?” Jared looked at her and without so much as a second thought told her that their

children had died and gone to heaven long before we came back here. They know how we feel about them. Tears now began soaring down Jennifer’s face. Jared knew that he said the wrong thing at the wrong time. Seconds slowly when you feel guilt for what you’ve said. “Okay sweetheart we’ll have a service for them. I don’t know why I didn’t agree with you right from the start. Guess I wasn’t thinking right. We’ll need a bible. That means we’ll have to go to the ranch. Hum… I wonder if the those guys that came through here found our ranch.” “Oh no Jared, you don’t think if they did, that they’d destroy that too do you?” “I think we need to find out if we still have a ranch to come home to and quick Jenny.” The Ayers elders mounted their horses and rode off down the main street of what used to be Bonestown, out past what is called the hanging tree, past a river that the town gets their water from, and right by old man Johnson’s vacant ranch, up a nearby hill over to the outskirts of their ranch. From what they could see with the naked eye, the ranch seemed different somehow. Jared jumped off his horse, went back to the saddlebags retrieving a pair of binoculars. He positioned them over his eyes adjusting them so that he could see clearly. Turned out he was right. Five cowboys stumbling for the ability to stand up straight were at the ranch starting fires, and chasing the horses out of the barn away from the ranch. If Jared could have killed with his eyes those idiot’s would be dead by now. “Son-of-a-bitch!” he exclaimed. Jennifer quickly asked for the binoculars. When she saw the outlaws she yelled, “Damn it! They’re destroying everything we built!” “Not for long sweetheart,” exclaimed Jared, “They’ll be dead before they know what’s happening!” Jared jumped on his horse and gazed down at Jennifer as she exclaimed, “You’re not leaving without me are you?” “Nope just waiting until you mount up.” They both took off toward their house going by way of the back roads so that the outlaws wouldn’t see them. Soon they were almost to their house. When they got closer they stopped, put the horses behind one of their barns, and quietly tried to sneak up on the outlaws. As they crept up along the east side of the house they heard what sounded like screams coming from the entrance to their home. They bolted out eagerly, as they drew their guns speedily, and found that all the men were on the ground with their guts slowly easing out of their bellies. “My word,” said Jennifer, “what in the world happened to them?” Jared bent down by one of them pushing some of the stomach contents away from the body. He’d been wearing gloves and put a finger into the blood bringing it up to his nose, then bent down and smelled the clothes of the outlaw.

He jumped back. “Damn it Jennifer, it smells like he’s been drinking for a week or more. Not a nice smell. Why didn’t I smell that before?” Jennifer being the tough, hard nose woman she is had to find out for herself. She replaced her gun into its holster, brushed off some dirt from her pants and vest then bent down. Smelling the man as Jared did resulted in the same reaction. “Damn! Damn it! Those guys must have drunk themselves to death. You got me I don’t know why we couldn’t smell then without having to get down close to them.” “What… you… you really think that someone can drink themselves to death Jenny?” “I don’t know of any other reason for them being dead do you? I mean I don’t see any bullet or knife wounds do you?” Jared looked at Jenny then at the guy he just examined. “No I don’t see any wounds at all. But his guts are spilling out all over the place. Could beer have done that?” “Don’t know don’t care!” replied Jennifer, “All I know is that they’re dead and they’ve saved us a fight. What are we going to do with them now Jared honey?” Jared thought for a minute then walked behind the house as Jennifer followed. “I have just the place for them Jenny.” He pointed toward a hill and the entrance to what appeared to be cave. “You want to throw them in that cave? Someone will eventually find them won’t they?” “Nope, no way they’ll find them under tons of rock and dirt.” Jenny smiled and said, “You’re going to throw them in there and blow the entrance-right?” “I knew I married you for some good reason.” said Jared with a smile on his face. “They’ll never hurt anyone again and they’ll live in hell for what’s left of their spiritual life.” “Yes! Damn it we’re smart!” exclaimed Jennifer as she motioned for them to get the bodies. Jared responded, “What do you mean we? It was my idea.” Jennifer

looked up at his smiling face saying, “How can you be so calm and happy? We’ve just lost everything, including our children. Doesn’t that matter to you?” Jared looked at her with a start of sadness in his eyes. “Yes it means something to me Jenny, but we’ve found the men that did all the damage and I’m sure their the one’s that killed our children. I’ll make sure they’ll be blown to kingdom come-just what they deserve. And yes our children are gone but we’ve avenged their death’s there is nothing more we can do. Jenny honey we can always have more children but the one’s we’ve lost today will be in our hearts and souls until we meet them again in heaven. I think I’m happy because this is what I think God would have wanted us to do. The fact that I’m happy for doing it makes me feel even stronger that we are doing the right thing-does that make sense to you honey?” Jenny prepared her thoughts in her mind carefully. At least that’s what Jared thought she was doing because she didn’t answer right away. She said softly, “Well maybe you’re right. But I still feel a great loss. All our work in building this town is gone. Our children are gone. It just seems like nothing works right for us, We’ve had problems like this all our lives… except for our children being killed… we don’t ever seem to get ahead. Why is this happening to us not some other couple?” “Don’t know Jenny. I guess this is the hand we are dealt and we have to make the best of it.”

Chapter 13

Bonestown History, The lives of Jared and Jennifer

The Ayers went on with their lives and the rebuilding of Bonestown as Willie and Annie helped. It took them quite a while to rebuild the town but eventually Bonestown had been resurrected now was the jewel of the west. The family that had so much trouble in their lives now were going to a bright future. Jared still had the visions but never told Jennifer about them trying to act as normal as he could. They lived into their mid-fifties when they both contracted tuberculosis and died. Living till you were fifty years old or more wasn’t normal in the old west. Most people didn’t live past their thirties or forties, if they were lucky. They had three other children, Jacob, Aaron, and Kathleen. Their children went on to accomplish great things except for Jacob who was killed in a gunfight at the Bonestown Saloon. Aaron had a wife but no children, ran for mayor and succeeded in gaining the position, which he held until he died. Kathleen discovered gold invested it in the railroad becoming one of the richest women in Bonestown. She got along great with Aaron in addition to being his partner in some investments, that made Aaron quite wealthy as well. Kamile went on to become the owner of Kamile’s house of wants and desires. Not exactly a great place for women, unless you liked men a lot and wanted to get paid for their pleasure. Casmin was able to regain full speech capabilities. She used her experiences growing up to write books on her life. She also changed her name to Shotgun Lucy, who became known throughout the west as the fastest draw this side of the Colorado river serving a brief stint as sheriff of Bonestown, That alone drew a lot of people to Bonestown. Hordes of people from the east would come to the town to watch her perform. Shotgun Lucy eventually married. blessing her husband with four children: Jason, Billy, Margaret, and William. Shotgun Lucy would leave the children home when she would travel from city to city performing. Her husband turned out to be the first “house husband” as he took care of their children while Shotgun traveled throughout the west. This made for some interesting interaction between Hank-

her husband-and the townsfolk. They couldn’t understand why the man of the house wouldn’t be out providing for the family. The woman should be home taking care of the children is what most of the townsfolk thought. The townsfolk kidded Hank as much as they could, until he got upset-then they’d run away from him like a one-armed man in a fight with a dozen Indians. Hank stood sixfoot-three-inches tall weighing in at about three hundred pounds, it turned out to be three hundred pounds of muscle that he used effectively if someone upset him. The townsfolk that were there when Jared and Jennifer died decided to have a monument built honoring the town’s founding couple. The monument still stands today as a tribute to their forward thinking during that time in the history of the town. Bonestown grew quite rapidly. At the end of their lives, Jared and Jennifer were able to see that the town they’d created had grown from a handful of settlers to a booming community with hundreds of settlers. Gold and silver were the main draws to Bonestown. When the town was rebuilt the main draw, of course, was the bone house that Jared, with Jennifer’s help, built but as time ed the uniqueness of the house waned. More people came here for the minerals they could find and sell at an enormous profit. Jared would have been proud to see that the Sheriff’s department had developed into a major department of justice, including it’s own Judge. This was unheard of at this time in the west, most of the judges would travel from one town to the next, but Jared had put in his will that he wanted a judge to have permanent residence in Bonestown, thereby breaking a tradition that had lasted for years. Jared did find out from Willie about the Palomino horse when they started to rebuild Bonestown. Willie had told him that when he was young he saw a Palomino horse tied up to a hitching post when his father took him along for a ride into town so that he could get some supplies. Willie went over to the horse started petting it, running his hand along the length of the horse. Willie thought the horse felt smooth not rough like the one’s he’s used to dealing with. As Willie rounded the back of the horse he ran into it’s owner-a rather tall man with bullet belts wrapped around his chest-one going from left to right with the other stretching from right to left. His clothes stunk of sweat plus his face reeled with sun marks-dirty and dry. He smoked a large cigar and bent down blowing the smoke from the cigar into Willie’s face. “What you doing boy? Trying to steal my horse?” Willie froze. “It’s okay son I was just kidding you. She’s a pretty horse isn’t she? Willie nodded slowly while trying not to have a burst of fluid appear on his pants. She’s a mighty fine horse. You don’t see this kind of horse

in these parts very often. You’d like to have her wouldn’t you boy?” Willie still sacred couldn’t talk. “Son I’m going to tell you something. This horse is very special. It has magical powers. It can do things no other horse can. What you think about that? Willie finally said, “That’s good sir.” “Good hell! That’s magnificent! The old man with the bullet belts along with his dirty rough clothes jumped on his horse telling Willie, “Son you’ll never have a horse like this. Only special people can ride these kinds of horses. See ya son.” With that said Willie watched him ride to the end of town then suddenly disappear as if he were never there. Willie’s dad came out looking at Willie gazing toward the end of town. “What’s up Willie?” Willie turned around shaken, not expecting to hear anyone behind him. “What’s the matter son you looked like you’ve seen a ghost? Did someone scare you?” “Yeah… I think so pa, but he’s gone now.” Willie told Jared that he was too afraid to tell his dad what really happened, but about a month ago when his father died he started seeing that Palomino againthis time without the stranger. It would show up at town or on the outskirts of his dad’s ranch, never getting close to Willie. Then when the town sold his father’s ranch to pay the city for back taxes the horse started showing up in the barn. Willie sold the horse once but a week later it was back. He tried to give it away and a week later it was back again. Willie said that he figured his dad’s soul must have figured out what happened to him that day when the Palomino was in town, in fact Willie’s dad could have watched the whole experience with the dirty man unfold and just never told Willie, and planned to surprise him with the horse later on. Or he met the man that had the horse and bought it from him. But Willie could never figure out why the horse kept coming back. So, said Willie, “I think I’d better keep her. I don’t know what else would happen if I tried to sell her again. Waterford and Bonestown proved to be a source of wonder and ghost stories for years. Things would happen in each town that no one could explain. Bonestown however, had the most unusual incidents-some of which still haunt the town. Jared and Jennifer felt that most of the problems are from the reservations that are near both Waterford and Bonestown. The Indian’s feel like the white man is taking their land, land they worked and lived off of for years. Jared felt that God created the land for anyone to use. For someone to claim it as his or her property isn’t proper. Who knows what’s right or wrong? The only thing Jared knew for sure is that both towns are haunted by something and they stayed pretty much stay away from those areas.

Chapter 14

“Bonestown History—Women

Bonestown had its share of women that have made it a town with a checkered past. One such woman was Gwendelyn Lout. She ran a farm just outside of Silver Creek but also owned the town bar. Her presence was well known throughout Arizona, especially her propensity for doing what she wanted, when she wanted. This attitude usually got her into quite a few situations that the founding fathers weren’t happy to discuss. One such situation happened when she fell in love with John Graham, a local gunsmith who also raised cattle on his small ranch just outside of town. Her desires along with her wants did not impress John. He had two thriving businesses to deal with no time for the likes of Gwendelyn Lout. In time he would realize that it would be is first mistake in dealing with Gwendelyn. No one says “no” to Gwendelyn. If they do… well… let’s just say they aren’t around Bonestown much longer. However, this time, with this man, she couldn’t get him to budge. She’d tried everything she could think of: offering to make him part owner of her farm plus her bar, offering to buy his business along with catering solely to her needs for the rest of his life, finally offering to pay the expenses of bringing his family to Bonestown from their home in East New York City. Nothing worked! Then she got the bright idea of kidnapping him in an effort to make him do what she wanted. This wasn’t one of her brighter moments. Kidnapping someone hadn’t been conceived of or done before. Gwendelyn would be the first to try it. With Gwendelyn nothing she does is simple. John’s businesses kept him occupied most of the time. The chances of her being able to get him alone were slim. But “Gweny” as her friends called her never ignored a challenge. Gwendolyn knew that John would take a break for lunch usually around high noon. His favorite place to visit for lunch was the orange trees along the road that beckoned any stranger into Bonestown. This would be a good spot to try to kidnap John. She had to be careful though, John could hear a pin drop a block away, consequently he’d hear her coming if she tried to sneak up behind him, so another plan had to be put into place.

Gweny had a knack for coming up with unusual plans to get what she wanted. This attribute had been developed by having to scrounge for food while growing up in Bonestown. Her father had been ambushed followed by being killed by confederate soldiers during the war as well as the Indians had taken her mother when she was a child. Being alone on the streets of Bonestown as a child would turn anyone cold, bitter, and tough but Gweny learned to cope with her circumstances very well. One day, when she was young, Gweny ran into Jesop Markerson. At the time both of them were trying to slink into the dry goods store to steal some food and clothes. Jesop stood taller than her but their ages were similar. As you can imagine the meeting turned out to be quite odd. Especially since Jesop thought that Gweny would be short for Gwenandaine, which was a popular name for young boys of the time. Lack of food created a gaping hole in their energy plus filling their stomachs is something both of them wanted badly. They showed their desire by constantly fighting in the store. Jesop’s advantage seemed obvious. He soon learned that size doesn’t always matter when you’re dealing with Gweny. “Give me that!” shouted Gweny. “I saw it first… you don’t have no right to it!” yelled Jesop. Before long the two were covered in flour with a torn bag of it lying at their feet. “Now look what you did!” “You did it, you… you girl!” Slap, crack, crying ensued as Jesop punched Gweny then slipped landed partially on a nearby wooden desk. “Aw… hell! Damn girl! You gonna get us in trouble!” Just as Jesop reached down to pick Gweny up, she gave him a swift kick in the groin, not realizing what that would do. Jesop bent over in pain, then toppled to the floor. “Oh… Dang it! What’s wrong with you? I didn’t hit you that hard?” “Just get away from me… you… you… girl.” Gweny stepped backward starting to laugh at why Jesop would be in so much pain. She thought he was a whimp.

“Huh… I beat up a boy. How bout that! Guess that shows you that I’m the boss around here—don’t it boy?” About this time the front door lock began to click seconds later the latch squeaked with age. Frank Ayers pushed the door open just as Gweny scooted out of the back door, leaving Jesop to take the blame for the mess and the break-in. She didn’t go far though, just far enough to where she could watch Jesop and Frank without being seen. Her height made it possible for a clear view from the back window. “What the hell you doing in here boy? I thought I heard someone in here, then to find my son on the floor with a flour bag torn apart and you grabbing at your… well… your pants that way, why boy if you weren’t my son, I’d have the sheriff arrest you for stealing. What the hell are you doing in here?” “It was that… that girl. She did this not me!” “What girl boy? I only see you here and there ain’t no girl around, what the hell you talking bout?” “Look pa, at the floor!” “Yep… so what, there’s flour all over the place, so what?’ “There, over there… footprints!” “Huh… well all be… ifin you ain’t right son. But, those is boot marks. No telling who made-em, and right now son, you’re in a heap of trouble. So there’s no blaming some imaginary girl.” “But look pa, the marks there small. My boots, they’re bigger than those.” “Son, I don’t pay no never mind to those boot marks. Now you’re gonna pay for what you did.” Frank took his belt off then pulled Jesop’s pants down quickly giving him a spanking so hard his rump would be sore for at least a month. Frank pulled Jesop by his shirt as he dragged him out of his store. “Tomorrow son, your gonna get up early and clean this mess, then your gonna work in my store everyday for the next month cleaning and washing up the place. You’re gonna this night for a long time to come.” Jesop shyly followed Frank out the front door, Frank made sure the door locked behind him. “Now son, I’ve got to catch the

four o’clock stage to Phoenix. I want you to do what I told ya. You know your ma isn’t well so I have to get doc Watkins and bring him back here to look at her. You make sure you clean up that mess and take your punishment like a man— you hear me boy? “Yeah pa I hear you.” “Good! I’ll be back tomorrow. And when I come back with your mom you make sure you don’t upset her. She can’t handle any of your shenanigans right now.”

Frank gave the keys to the store to Jesop. Shortly afterward he strolled down the planked walkway toward the stage office. Jesop put the keys in his pocket, turned around toward Billy James’ place just outside of town. He didn’t get very far. Gweny jumped out from the shadows between his pa’s place and the saloon. She yelled, “Gotcha!” Jessup jumped back falling over a spittoon, knocking the liquid out onto his clothes. “Damn you girl! Look what you did!” “Hey my name isn’t “girl! It’s Gwendolyn, Miss Gwen to you.” “Okay… Miss Gwen, why’d you do that? You scared me to death.” “Hey Jeso… Jessu! Aw hell, Hey Jessu you deserved it. Trying to get me in trouble like that—you deserved it! “I didn’t… wait… wait… how did you know what happened?” “I watched from the back window.” “And I didn’t deserve it!” exclaimed Jessup, “You got me in trouble! You got away scott free so you deserve to get a licking for that, but I got it instead! You just watch yourself… you… you… Miss Gwen. You just wait till I get back with Billy then you’ll get what’s coming to ya!” “Yeah… Yeah you got to catch me first Jessu.” With that said Gwen ran off into the darkness that had hid her so well minutes

earlier. “Catch me ifin you can Jessu.” As she ran she looked back keeping an eye on Jessup’s progress. Jessup slowly walked away. A slight chill covered her as grief plus loneliness bubbled up within her. Rapidly she found herself behind the store knowing the sun would soon be replaced by night. Food became more of a necessity. Her thoughts turned toward going back into the store, but something inside her deep inside her, told her that enough was enough that she’d find what she needed elsewhere. Night comes quickly in Bonestown. Tonight would be business as usual. Before she knew it darkness surrounded her. Her path had taken her away from the store to the top of a small hill that stood behind the dry goods store. From her vantage point she could see most of the town climbing this hill had taken a toll on her. She looked around for her home quickly finding it: a cave that undoubtedly had once been the entrance to a mine, but now the cave entrance, a few feet in, had been blocked by what must have been an explosion generated years ago. Now Gwendolyn had made it her home. She had had a big day; trying to hide from the sheriff while she stole food from the garbage can of the “Good times and eats” restaurant in the morning. In the afternoon she tried to sneak into “Mary Jane’s Good Time Hotel” to see why so many cowpokes would visit that hotel only staying one or two nights. However, her efforts were stopped by Mary Jane herself in an effort to keep what Mary Jane called, “The local trash,” from entering her place-even though everyone knew whom the local trash was in Bonestown. Gwendolyn had to fight to keep from being beaten by her every time they met. Then her late afternoon experience with Jessup turned out to be the final event that drained her energy. Now she needed rest. Her makeshift home would be her place for the night. She walked as slow as water running uphill toward the cave. An old blanket she’d found on one of her earlier trips to town lay a few feet inside of the cave entrance. It looked inviting to her tired soul. As she reached the blanket a storm moved swiftly overhead. Crystal clear droplets poured from the sky. Gwendolyn enjoyed watching the rain. It gave her comfort as she settled in for the night. Bonestown has a reputation of having strong or extremely violent storms. The locals have all managed to devise methods to protect themselves as well as their property from damage. This isn’t the case with Gwendolyn. She’d found a cave that had been abandoned for probably ten years or more in desperate need of

shoring up. The storm shook the remnants of rafters; constructed in the cave when it was new as dust swirled downward toward her makeshift bed. Being exhausted meant that she didn’t care about anything but sleep so the dust accumulating on her didn’t stir anything inside mind. Even the crackling of lighting nearby wouldn’t phase her sleep. Darkness enveloped the entrance to the cave as a wind from the south circled around into the opening easily blowing off the blanket Gwendolyn had used to cover herself. This got her attention. Being pulled up into a low hanging ceiling without all of your senses functioning resulted her head coming in with on one of the bowed rafters with a loud thud. “Ow… Damn it! she yelled, half hoping someone would hear as she rubbed her head. The wind had now become a torrent of blowing dust and leaves from the trees it had destroyed on its path to the cave. Sight from the cave to the outlying desert was slim at best. Gwendolyn knew it would be only a matter of time before the rafters gave way. She’d either be pinned under them or the weight of them would crush her. She couldn’t go any farther into the cave. What seemed like tons of rock blocked her from moving any further in that direction. Her only choice was to ride out the storm hoping that the rafters held. Watching rain is one thing, but having to sit by hoping you survive is another thing altogether, something Gwendolyn hadn’t experienced before this night. Her thoughts turned to wondering why she’d picked this cave as a home instead of finding an abandoned house or ranch or maybe even a barn that she could use. The wind began to increase in volatility. Now her vision had diminished to almost zero. She couldn’t see anything beyond her hands. Smelling something rotting filled her senses. Gwendolyn tried aimlessly to walk out of the cave. Buffeted by constant twirling dust and dirt managed to knock her off her feet onto what was left of her blanket. Blood dripped from a gash in her head into her eyes as she realized that she had hit her head on a rock. Suddenly, she felt a calm come over her. A sense of no fear, a sense of being saved permeated her thoughts. “I can beat this! I know I can!” With what strength she had left she shakily stood up. Fighting her way against an effect of Mother Nature couldn’t have been more difficult for her. This time though, she had a determination that couldn’t be quelled. Ultimately she exited the cave, turned around to watch the swirling dust and wind cover the entrance of the cave again just as a loud, crackling, thundering noise erupted from the cave. Rocks and boulders covered the opening. The ten-foot expanse of space, just inside the cavity to the cave that used to be shelter from the elements for Gwendolyn had been eliminated. Now her choice had to be to find another, more stable home. Lights from the town beckoned her, but her strength had been drawn out of her like the storm that took

her home. The night air had started a chilling trend. Gwendolyn had to find shelter. Then it came to her. An old abandoned ranch sat on the other side of this hill near the original beginnings of Bonestown. Her muscles ached as she walked slowly toward the ranch. Thunder, lightning, and what now looked like God crying endless tears were all around her as her destination gradually came closer in view. Although no one had occupied it for at least ten years, it the still stood strong. Gwendolyn knew it would be a good source of refuge against all the elements of weather that might attack her existence. But something bothered her as she opened the door, “I don’t know why, but I know this place,” she said as the door creaked then snapped off its hinges onto the tired wooden floor. “I feel like I’ve been here before but that can’t be, I’ve never seen this ranch before. And how did I know it was here?” She decided to try finding anything that might let her know she wasn’t crazy and did actually recognize this ranch. Thunder and lighting started to subside as Gwendolyn located the library of the ranch. While she rumbled through the papers that were left strewn all over the library, she came across some documents that looked like birth certificates; one for a boy and one for a girl. Based on her calculations she figured the girl would be about her age. Since no one had lived here for what appeared to be years, Gwendolyn thought that taking the girl’s birth certificate and name might be better for her. After all Gwendolyn Lout didn’t have much of a life so far and this ranch was much nicer than anything she’d had in the past, so taking the name of Street as a last name didn’t seem wrong.

Chapter 15

“Bonestown History—Chief Steel Cirones and his tribe”

In Bonestown one thing is always constant—Indians. They have been here since the early eighteen hundred’s. I imagine they will be here for generations to come. Although the Indian population has dwindled over time we still have a good size group of Native Americans within Bonestown and the surrounding areas. This makes for an interesting mix of cultures and ideas—some good-some not so good. It was one of these, not-so-good ideas, that started a big problem back around eighteen-hundred-and-sixty-eight. Chief Steel Cirones was a great and powerful chief, but his tribe, the Aranpo Tribe were dwindling because of repeated loses to the white man. Although his tribe was known as brave and strong, they always had trouble defeating the white man. This led chief Cirones to ask for help from the spirit Gods. He traveled to the highest mountain in the northern region of Arizona, climbed it then began praying for help to win their fights against the white man. On the third day into his prayers chief Cirones got his answer. The answer came one night when he fell asleep after praying all day. What he received in a dream appeared to be a notice that he would be sent an evil so deadly, powerful, and devastating that as soon as he received it he would have to find a way to contain it. Chief Cirones woke up screaming with sweat pouring down his face. He began to shake uncontrollably for a few minutes. His mind raced to find a container to put this force in, one that could hold its power. Realizing that such a force could not be contained by conventional means, he began to think of what he could create or use to hold the force until it’s time is needed. His dream also told him that if the force weren’t controlled the evil would devour every living thing in the world. The prospect of such a power chilled his soul. Being a chief he is supposed to know these things but right now the chief didn’t know when he would receive the evil or what form it would come in, so trying to devise a containment system seemed impossible. But then he realized that whatever would be sent to him had to be in a form that wouldn’t harm him plus make it easy for him to control. His first thought was of a man,

but a man just isn’t created one day, a man is born lives a life before he becomes a true man. Or, it might just be that the evil would come in the form of a child. The chief looked long and hard for a baby that might be close by but found nothing. His thoughts turned to what else might be coming that would hold an evil so that he could access without harm. Chief Cirones searched for days but no child or man could be found that he would know as evil sent to him. Being so involved in a search every day made him tired beyond belief so sleep came easily. Once again in a dream he heard that the evil would be there soon. He woke up in the middle of the night gazing into the vast desert below his vantage point on the cliff of the mountain. The night crippled his vision. He’d never seen such a dark night in his life. It seemed to follow him as he walked. With such little vision a child would have to be heard rather than seen. Something that seemed shiny caught his eye right below the cliff in an area he knew held a large variety of vegetation, just the thing to hide a baby. It was too dark to try and climb down so the chief went back to his blanket trying to sleep until morning. It wasn’t easy. He couldn’t help wondering if the baby was safe, if indeed it were a baby. Then he thought, “It’s a baby full of evil no one can touch it but me!” That little piece of information subdued some of the chief’s emotions but not enough for him to sleep. He stood up walked back to the edge of the cliff to make sure he wasn’t too close to the edge. A noise coming from below startled him-he knew it had to be the baby crying. The sun had just begun to peek over the horizon making visibility more accessible. Now he could see that something was down there looking as though it was wrapped in a red cloth. He figured it would take him about an hour to get down if he took the backside of the mountain rather than the front side that he climbed earlier. Securing his belongings in his pack, he then flopped it on his back for the trip down to the baby. Chief Cirones was right. He made it down the mountain in record time. The chief tried to find the red cloth but couldn’t find anything. Searching for the red cloth he’d seen from the cliff seemed to take longer but also more difficult than he’d planned on until he turned a corner of a rock formation thereby allowing him to find the cloth with a baby inside. The chief jumped around, held the baby above him then thanked the spirits for their generosity. But then it hit him, “How do I get the evil from the baby? It’s obvious that there are no visible signs of evil on or in the look of the baby’s face, so how do I get evil from something I can’t get into? He walked around the baby numerous times trying desperately to figure out a way to retrieve the evil.

Concentration was interrupted by the sight and sound of a white man about a mile away shooting at what looked like a rabbit. He succeeded in killing the rabbit, then walked over, cut it open and removed the insides. This gave the chief the method for getting the evil out of the baby. Chief Steel Cirones had an idea of taking over Bownestown by force making it an Indian town. It would be the first town of its kind anywhere in the country. Not all Indians liked the idea of having a town just for Indian’s, they felt that the reservation is where they should be, not some “white man’s town” as they used to refer to Bonestown. It seems that the Chief however would be destined to use the evil he’d discovered to its final, horrific purpose. Chief Cirones usually got his way. Most townsfolk were afraid of all the Indians, not just the chief, but the chief was different. He had a sense about him, almost like he could talk to the gods and do their bidding. Whether he actually had such a power had never been revealed. But for the people of Bonestown at that time—they believed he did. This ability of the chief, real or imagined, was all he needed to convince his tribe that an attack should be done and soon. Even the Indians that didn’t agree with what the chief had planned wouldn’t say anything to him or show any confrontational attitude—it just wasn’t done. Planning is something that wasn’t a strong attribute of the chief. He could attack wagon trains until the cows came home, but plan an attack on a town plus handle the aftermath isn’t an easy task. One aspect of the chief that afforded him some strength came from his stature. He stood about seven-foot-three-inches by measurement methods of that time. It turned out to be a good attribute as a way to influence people without having to say a word. Some people said that the devil himself possessed him others said he was just crazy from living in the Arizona sun for so many years. If any of the talk generated accurate thinking, no one revealed it. But, this attacking a town talk started a lot of people, Indians included, thinking about some way to stop this giant of an Indian from destroying a town maybe themselves in the process. It appeared that no one could come up with anything that could solve this problem when a stranger rode into town. This person wasn’t a normal cowhand; his face was torn with years of fighting and losing badly. Dust kicked up as the stranger brought his weather-beaten horse to a stop in front of Jesse John’s saloon. Dirt including the grime of the road shuttered off his coat and chaps as he dismounted. His gate mimicked that of a wounded calf struggling to walk but knowing that a gunshot to the leg would be its death sentence. He was not normal. Something odd about him permeated the town—

everyone took shelter, everyone that is except for Sterling Augany. Sterling owned a lot of the land near Bonestown in addition, had fought both Indians and white men for what he wanted. He wasn’t about to be intimidated by a stranger. That turned out to be a bad mistake. The stranger ed by Sterling, not giving him the traditional nod of greeting, as he walked into the saloon. Sterling wasn’t used to people not recognizing him especially someone ignoring him. He turned just as the stranger turned back around and said, “You want something from me mister?” His eyes gleaned evil but Sterling wasn’t impressed. “You’re Damn right I want something from you! You need to have manners boy. You don’t come into town all filthy expecting to have people wait on you—do you boy?” This wasn’t the brightest move on Sterling’s part, but what happened next did prove that Sterling could handle himself with anyone, even a strange man. The man sized up Sterling and said, “You want what I have. You aint getting it without a fight.” Sterling walked into the street motioning for the stranger to follow. The two of them stood opposite each other waiting. Neither one moved or said anything. They just stared at each other, their hands just above their gun’s, waiting, waiting for that moment when time stands still as motion slows to just faster than a normal heart beat. Sterling knew this could be his last shootout if he missed. Sweat began to trickle down his face. The stranger appeared to have been able to sense Sterling’s uneasiness stating, “Hey, you gonna draw or what? I aint got all day, and by the looks of you, you aint got much time left anyways.” What happened next will live in the history of Bonestown for eternity. Sterling drew first just as the stranger ran toward him, firing around after around at Sterling. Within seconds dust along with a fair share of dirt flew up swirling in a circle. Neither Sterling nor the stranger was visible. Soon after the dust cleared a single body laid on the dirt. Sterling, almost at deaths door, face up, gazing into the mid-morning sun as a smile crept upon his face he started laughing. Sterling stood, waffling, immediately grabbing at his chest then fell to his knees. The remaining townsfolk streamed from the confines of their shelters. All that remained was the stranger’s horse, Sterling with an unusually well carved tomahawk that had been positioned beside him. As he kneeled on the dirt he noticed that an impression of Sterling and the stranger as they faced off had been carved on the tomahawk. He asked one of the townsfolk, Jason Grey-the town undertaker, “Who left this tomahawk here?” Jason responded, “No one! You and

that other cowpoke were the only ones out here.” Sterling’s heart skipped a few beats then stopped, never to beat again. Jason bent down and picked up the tomahawk. When he looked at the carved handle his body shuttered. He grabbed his chest saying, “Their gone! Their gone!” A puff of dust partially obscured Mr. Grey as he tumbled onto the dirt— dead. A woman standing near by screamed and moved closer to the two men. She picked up the tomahawk and saw nothing but a plain, wooden handle.

§ § § §

Days ed almost as quickly as Sterling had died. But the town had returned to its normal, quiet solitude. But as is the case in Bonestown, nothing stays the same for long. Sara Johns, the woman that retrieved the tomahawk from the dirt that fateful day had been fixing dinner and decided that her ranch house was too cold. While her pot of baked beans/ham hocks simmered on the wood stove she ventured out toward the woodshed. People often wonder why things happened the way they did that day, but have never been able to figure out what happened to Sara. Hours after she left the house a fire ravaged her home-minutes later all that was left was the tomahawk, without a singe or scratch on it. Some of the townsfolk said that she had gone, “around the bend.” Which meant she went crazy and just walked away. But as for the Indians-they knew better. They knew what really happened and weren’t about to reveal anything to anyone; be it white man or other Indians. They knew what would happen if the truth be known. Their secret stayed with them. William Jardin who had just come into town about two weeks earlier, had been assigned the task of finding out what happened to Sara by the local sheriff. During his investigation of Sara’s disappearance nothing worth pursuing was located until one day when he too found out about the secret of the tomahawk. William studied investigation techniques at the Davidson detective agency in San Francisco for four years before coming out to Bonestown. His talent for unearthing the obvious in investigations would fail him in this endeavor. When he found it in the ruble of Sara’s house nothing unusual happened or occurred to him. It was just a tomahawk. Something he’d seen dozens of times. This time would be different. He’d placed the tomahawk in his belt as he gathered up items he thought would

help him in his search for the truth. Walking back to his horse he felt a vibration in addition to heat coming from the tomahawk. Reaching down to grasp it he realized that it had started to change. He threw it on the ground then watched in horror as the images of Stering plus the stranger were changing, as if by some unseen hand re-carving the tomahawk. His eyes bulged partially out of their sockets. Sweat eased down his face. “What the hell?” He said softly as if not to awaken sleeping spirits. Smoke twisted around the tomahawk up through Williams nose. Coughing surged through his chest as he gasped for air. A minute later he lay on the ground eyes staring upward as if to say, “Why me?” The next few minutes were ghastly at best. William watched as the sky became an ominous black with all manner of deadly beings; some alive and some… well… dead. But all were coming after him. He couldn’t do anything to stop the surge of death toward him. The attack targeted his face. Blood from scratches and cuts, some severe enough to expose bone, engulfed his features. It had become a fight for survival. However, the enemy had all the advantages. Beings from the inner most fearful of venues kept appearing striking him repeatedly. Struggling for his gun resulted in more attacks. He kicked at the forces that longed for his soul. Thoughts of a simpler time tried to overcome the fight, all to no avail. “Damn it! Damn it! Leave me alone! Stop it! Stop it now!” A troublesome wind whipped up around William. Use of one’s eyes depended on the wind. It circled William as the assault continued. By now his face as well as most of his body had been ravaged by beings unseen in his world to date. Despite his actions to the contrary the forces kept plummeting his defensive tactics. Willpower is a trait that William had plenty of, but this time, it had almost been drained of its usefulness. The ring that had been given to William by his loving wife had been covered in blood dangling precariously on the stub of what used to by his finger. More attacks came forward, more frequently. “God help me!” he shouted as he raised, as best he could, his head to the heavens. Nothing happened. Most of his flesh had been removed as he struggled to regain his strength. Just as the ugly darkness of the grim reaper started to come for him the attacks

subsided. The beings vanished. A second later William found himself on his back looking at a cloud filled blue sky. He quickly staggered to stand, then finally stood up. At Sara’s house the burning embers of her home were still fighting for there last simmer and crackle before dying into oblivion. William couldn’t control the shaking that had taken over his frame. His holster and gun were still securely attached to him. The only thing that had changed was William. Everything else stood as before, except for the tomahawk—it had vanished. William turned walked into the forest. A week later the townsfolk found his hat and jacket covered in blood but no sign of William. Legend has it that he committed suicide brought on by the wrath of the tomahawk. But no one could explain why just his hat and coat were found. If he’d committed suicide, he’d be found in tact with maybe a bullet wound in his head. The townsfolk buried the hat and coat said a prayer over the grave, then went on about their business. Chief Cirones had heard of the death of the detective. He smiled laughing heartedly knowing that the tomahawk had done its deed so well. Even though the chief stood tall his fear of the white man proved non-existent, the one thing he did have fear of was the spirits of the dead and the abused, no matter white man or Indian, he knew how powerful they could be. He used to tell his tribe, “Never doubt how powerful the sprit’s are-no matter white man or Indian. In his case it Chief Cirones knew how important it would be to find the tomahawk and bring it back to his tribe, despite the fact that the tomahawk wasn’t made by any of his people. He sent a band of Indian’s to the remains of Sara’s house to search for the tomahawk. The chief would not touch that tomahawk for fear of releasing the spirits into this world. His belief plus that of his tribe was that a chief had power to release spirits from anything, especially from a tomahawk. The Indian’s that he’d sent to retrieve the tomahawk never returned with the desired object. That fact made the chief more fearful that some of the spirits may have been released from the tomahawk and were waiting for him to release the rest of them. The chief wasn’t about to do anything like that. Instead he went along with his plan to attack the town. his second in command had created a plan of attack based on what the chief wanted to accomplish. Scouts were sent out to see if the expanse between their camp and Bonestown would be clear of any white men. They had just returned with the results. The chief walked over to the leader of the group and asked, “Tell me White Feather what have you seen?” “Chief there are soldiers coming up from the south. I think maybe thirty or more. They’re headed straight for the town. They should be here by morning.”

“You sure White Feather? How did you make it back here before them? If you saw them and you say they will be here tomorrow morning how did you make it back here today?” “Chief they were camped out in a gully. It looked like they’d be down for the night. I rode back here as fast as I could. There were at least thirty by my count.” “Hum… we must move ahead with the plan before the soldiers get to town,” said the chief. “But chief,” said his second, Running Bear, “We haven’t got a good plan yet. We’ll be wiped out if we attack now!” “Running Bear you have made a plan. I’ve looked at it and it looks good. We attack at dawn. Nothing more is to be said on this!” Running Bear looked at White Feather as if to say, “Here we go again, more of our people will be killed because of him.” “We must stop him Running Bear! We must!” whispered White Feather. “Yes White Feather, but he is strong and has many powers we don’t understand. How do we do it?” “He is still just an Indian like us. We have to survive! His attacks on the white man and towns have left our tribe with few Indian’s. All our women have died or been killed so how do we exist if we have no women to supply new braves? We have to stop him!” Running Bear excelled at making attack plans, but now he also needed to devise a plan of attack on their chief, something that would make Running Bear the new chief along with not making the other Indian’s want Running Bear dead. Chief Cirones had a few ers within the tribe but the ones that wanted change outnumbered them. The tribe had fifteen Indian’s plus the chief. It was hardly a match for a town of people that numbered at least thirty-to-fifty, depending on when the cowpokes visited the town. Running Bear had to make it look like the chief was killed either by the townsfolk or the soldiers if he wanted to be the new chief. But as he thought of a plan he ed the chief’s concern over releasing spirits from their containment. If he could find a way to scare him to death then they wouldn’t have to attack. The tribe would welcome

Running Bear as their new chief. Only problem existed with that thinking-the chief isn’t scared of anything except freeing spirits so Running Bear would have to have a tomahawk that carried spirits and somehow make the chief look at it. That wouldn’t be easy. Running Bear would run the risk of having the spirits, once their released come after him. Running Bear had a major problem to figure out with very little time to do it. The night grew darker, soon the light of day would appear and he’d be out of time. Whatever he had to do be it killing the chief and blaming it on the white man or the soldiers, or having to scare him to death, it had to be done soon, it had to be done well if the tribe were to believe it. Running Bear debated on scaring the chief eventually coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t a good idea. If it didn’t work, chances are the chief would find out who planned it then soon afterward Running Bear would be dead. The best way to get rid of the chief is to kill him and blame it on someone else. Running Bear wasn’t a large Indian. His prowess with arrows wasn’t the best of the tribe so he knew that if he killed the chief while another Indian happened to witness it he wouldn’t be able to stop him from telling the rest of the tribe. After some debate in his mind he decided that White Feather would have to be the one to kill the chief. He was much stronger than Running Bear and was a close friend of the chief even though he didn’t agree with what the chief was trying to do. Now the only thing Running Bear had to do would be to convince White Feather of his plan hoping that he’d go along with it. The rest of the tribe including the chief sat around the campfire trying to stay warm in the cold night. White Feather sat next to the chief so being able to talk to him wouldn’t be possible without the chief leaving or somehow getting White Feather to come to Running Bear. By now Running Bear had ed the rest of the group positioning himself next to Iron Hawk. Iron Hawk is the medicine man of the tribe very wise in the ways of the Indian-sometimes a little too wise. He always knew what would be best for the tribe but had been swayed by the chief for a number of years so his relationship with the chief grew from friend to advisor very fast. Iron Hawk knew the chief extremely well thus he knew how to get what he wanted from him. Running Bear had to tone down his thoughts about killing the chief so that Iron Hawk wouldn’t suspect anything. The last time someone tried to kill the chief Iron Hawk found out about it. That resulted in the traitor being buried in the ground with just his head showing above ground. The chief would then place large red ants around his head. Within two hours that Indian had his flesh eaten thereby dying a very painful, terrifying death. Running Bear didn’t want that to happen to him. He had a feeling that Iron Hawk had it in for him

based on the fact that one time a few years ago Running Bear went against Iron Hawk and told the chief not to attack a wagon train. The chief went back and forth on his options eventually deciding to go with Running Bear’s advice. The tribe took a vantage point on a hill as they watched the wagon train come into view and slowly out of view. Everyone could feel the fury in the chief’s eyes. “Wait a few more minutes chief and you’ll see what I saw when I scouted the wagon train,” said Running Bear Minutes later the chief did indeed see what Running Bear was talking about, a large number of soldiers were following the wagon train. If the chief had attacked the whole tribe would have been wiped out. Since that time Iron Hawk and Running Bear have had an unspoken rift in their friendship. This rift had grown over the years. Now Running Bear didn’t want Iron Hawk being suspicious of anything he did, especially when his plans were to kill the chief. “Nice to see you Running Bear.” said Iron Hawk as Running Bear sat down next to him. “How come you didn’t sit with the rest of us when the chief called all of us to the campfire?” “Iron Hawk, I had thinking to do. Thinking about ways we could save most of our tribe in the attack tomorrow.” “Chief said you had planned already for the attack, why do you need to think more about it?” Running Bear knew if Iron Hawk kept pressing for reasons he’d eventually talk resulting in his death within minutes. Iron Hawk had ways of making people say things they didn’t want to or mean to. It was odd how effective he could be in making people talk. Running Bear had to play a game of wits with Iron Hawk. This game he had never won by him, but this time he had to win. The survival of the tribe depended on it. He had visions of the tribe being wiped out in one swift action by the townsfolk along with the Calvary that had stopped in the town for a rest. If Iron Hawk saw those visions through Running Bear’s mind his plan would end along with his life. “I want to make sure that we have the best chance to survive that’s all,” said Running Bear.

“You don’t think the chief has already thought of that? Why are you so concerned about our survival? You’ve never thought that way before. You hiding something Running Bear?” “No! I’m not hiding anything. We’ve had three attacks on wagon trains, soldiers and towns this month. We have no women to fill our needs. I think we’ll have a hard time fighting if we don’t have a good, no a great plan. I want to make sure all of us live to fight again. What is wrong with that Iron Hawk? Are you trying to prevent the attack from happening? Why else would an Indian of your stature make such wild statements?” Iron Hawk was taken by surprise and found it hard to come back with valid reasons for his questions without revealing what his true thoughts were. The chief was just a campfire away from him so he had to be careful that he didn’t upset him. The chief could do more harm to him than a friendly game of mind pong. “Enough!” yelled the chief. “You two have been fighting for months. I’ll have no more of that! I don’t care what either of you think! Now is the time for us to go over Running Bears plan and pray that our attack will be successful. This is not a time for fighting! Save all that anger for the fight. You two understand what I’m saying?” The two Indian’s that had just been reamed vigorously shook their heads in agreement. The chief began going over the plan of attack in more detail starting by asking questions of Running Bear. He was now riding on a high, being able to stump Iron Hawk with words was something that he’d wanted to do for years. Running Bear’s success filled him with excitement. He knew from that point on that he could handle himself with Iron Hawk although he’d never want to go through that mind game with him again. As the chief with his advisors nearby went over the plan night crept slowly into day. Soon they’d be riding into town bent on killing everyone in sight. Running Bear realized that something had to be done to stop the attack but with his new prestige within his mind he wasn’t sure what to do. Having talked with Iron Hawk also having left him stumped for words Running Bear had a very strong suspicion that Iron Hawk would be watching his every move. Quickly Running Bear would have to come up with another plan to get rid of the chief. Thoughts raced endlessly through his mind as morning gained in closeness. Time for

action would be limited. He walked over to his horse, pretending to check the horse’s hoofs for rocks, etc. when he saw the bag of belongings they had stolen from a wagon train. He ed that he’d seen a gun in that bag and then it hit him. “Shoot the chief in the midst of the attack then the tribe will think he was shot by the townsfolk or the soldiers.” That would leave him out of it and he could take the chiefs place without fear of having some of the tribe against him. It would also make the chief a great man having died in battle. “Good idea,” he thought. “This will work! I know it will!” Running Bear always rides beside the chief on his right when attacking. All he had to do now was to figure out when would be the best time to shoot the chief. It would have to be a precise shot preferably in the heart or between the eyes. He heard the chief yelling at everyone to get ready to attack. Running Bear reached down and grabbed the gun, turned away from the tribe to make sure it had plenty of ammunition, hid it in his belt, turned back then mounted his horse. His fingers were tingling with uneasiness as he gently kicked his horse. The gentle kick of the horse brought Running Bear up beside the chief. “Why are you late?” said the chief. “You usually are at my side by now. Is something wrong? Something you need to tell me about before we attack?” Running Bear looked into the chief’s eyes as shivers of cold pierced his soul. He thought that the chief may have heard of what he planned and that he wanted him to confess before the attack. “No chief, there isn’t anything wrong. My horse had a rock in its hoof. I had a hard time getting it out.” The chief looked down at his horse’s hoof then back to Running Bear. “Better make sure next time that you fix it before we are ready for the fight.” The chief gave the signal for the tribe to follow him. They started out at a slow trot. Running Bear began thinking of when and how to perform his duty. Completing the task without arising suspicion from the tribe would be hard-but it could be done. He had traveled this trail before guessing that it would be about an hour before they’d be within sight of the town. The chief always liked to spread out the tribe around any wagon train that they planned to attack-he wanted to do the same when attacking this town. Normally, this meant that the chief with Running Bear by his side would be one group that would led the attack while the rest of the tribe would follow in pairs of two. However, this time

with such a large town the plan would be different. The chief and Running Bear would lead the charge while all of the tribe followed. Doing this allowed the Indian’s the advantage of a swift, dangerous attack, hopefully done so fast that the townsfolk wouldn’t have enough time to react thereby giving the victory to the chief. The difference in this attack and those of the past months is that Running Bear had to fight the townsfolk plus any soldiers, then find a way to kill the chief in the process. Running Bear had told White Feather of his new plan. White Feather agreed to come up behind the chief knock him of his horse after Running Bear fired shot after shot into him preferably a head shot first then the rest into his chest finishing in his heart. For this to work Running Bear had to depend on White Feather, which normally wasn’t a problem, but as the fight began White Feather was shot and killed by one of the townsfolk before he could get close to the chief. Now, Running Bear had to adjust his plan of death and hope that no one saw him. The fight raged on more and more of the tribe were killed. The soldiers had come into town as the raid had begun thereby having an advantage of not being seen by the Indian’s until it was too late. Swords and bullets permeated the air. Dust and blood combined to reveal a horrible atmosphere. Women of the town tried to escape only to be killed by arrows or dragged through the street by some of the Indian’s. It turned into a bloody mess. A surprise to Running Bear came in the sight that the there were still enough Indian’s left to put up a decent fight. But, one by one the Indian’s fell to the soldiers. Now the only one’s left was the chief and Running Bear, plus a handful of soldiers. This made a perfect time for Running Bear to embrace and commit to his plan. The chief had his hands full fighting off soldiers when Running Bear started to draw the gun. Before he could fire a loud, defining rat-ta-tat echoed in his ears. He turned around as his eyes fell upon a gattling gun firing at everything in sight. He jumped of his horse running toward the chief. When he reached the chief he found that the soldiers had already carried out his task, the chief had died just moments earlier by two gunshot wounds to the head. Running Bear sensed that the rest of the Indian’s wouldn’t last so he raised his hands walked to the nearest soldier yelling, “Stop! Stop shooting we give up!” The rest of the Indian’s saw that the chief had died and because of tradition had known that the next in line had to be Running Bear and raised their hands in unison. Moments later the Indian’s including Running Bear were in cuffs walking

toward the town jail. Almost the entire tribe had been eliminated in one attack. Besides Running Bear there were three other Indian’s left. All of them shared a cell until the soldiers could clean up the town and bury their dead. Running Bear wanted to be happy that the chief had died the way he planned although not by his hands the only problem was that the three Indian’s in the cell with him were some of the chiefs ers. They weren’t happy that Running Bear had replaced the chief. “I know you three don’t like me as chief, but we are only four now, not a full tribe and we can’t attack anything or anybody without more of us. I know of another tribe that’s about fifty miles from here that needs a leader and is like us, just a few. We should go there and them to start a new tribe.” “Why would we you? You are not one of us,” said Lucky Wolf. “There are only four of us, we can’t survive unless we . You know the soldiers will kill us if we don’t escape. And we can’t escape unless we fight together. “We could survive on our own,” said Running Lizard, “We’ve done it before and we’ll do it again!” “That was years ago. And now there are more soldiers patrolling this area. If you want to survive we must be together.” said Running Bear. Running Lizard and Lucky Wolf looked at each other then back at Running Bear. “You make sense Running Bear,” said Running Lizard, “But how do we get out of here?” “That is a problem. But there are many ways to trick the soldiers. All we have to do is come up with one that works. I guess that most of the soldiers are out cleaning up the town taking our dead brothers who knows where. There are two soldiers in here. Lucky Wolf you still have that rope that you used the last time the white man caught you?” Lucky Wolf smiled as he retrieved the rope from his clothes. “What is your plan Running Bear the same thing I did the last time I was

caught?” “Yes, only this time it won’t be just you, you’ll have me and Running Lizard.” Lucky Wolf tied the rope around his waist hiding it under his clothes then tied a loose noose around his neck with the rest of the rope. This made for a very convincing act of hanging oneself. Now they had to find out where to tie the other end of the rope to in order to make it look like he’d hung himself. The three decided to wait until dark. That would allow them the use the one of the rafters. Night in Bonestown gets very dark and scary, especially inside the cells. There are no candles lit late at night. Most of the soldiers leave the jail to their counterparts at camp. The sheriff always goes home at night. Running Bear knows this because he spent days tracking the movements of the sheriff and had dealt with the soldiers earlier in his life thus gaining great insight as to what they do at night with prisoners, be it in a cell or tied to a horse. All the Indian’s had to do was wait until the sheriff’s office had only one soldier or the sheriff left then they could make their move. The white men wouldn’t expect an Indian to hang himself that would lower their guard permitting the other two Indian’s time to complete their plan. The Indian’s were well behaved. They took the food the white men gave them and didn’t cause any problem. In fact they acted like model prisoners; even acting scared of the soldiers and sheriff when they’d come near the cell. If they wanted to escape they’d have to do it tonight because they all had seen what would happen to Indian’s if held for more than one day. They had all seen brothers executed within in days of capture or beaten severely to the point where they would die in minutes. Those Indian’s lucky enough to escape would never be treated the same when they returned to the tribe. Indian tradition told that to die in the glorious fight is the preferred way to end one’s life-not in a prison cell, If all the other Indian’s were dead and you returned to the remaining tribe, you were shunned by the rest of the clan, this meant you had to complete dangerous, horrific tasks to regain their iration as well as respect. None of these three Indian’s wanted to experience that humiliation. Despite the fact that their tribe had been destroyed plus having them up with other tribes would be dangerous at best. That is why Running Bear had convinced them to others like themselves. But now, the main task at hand had to be getting out of their jail cell. What Running Bear had thought would happen did and relatively fast. All the soldiers left leaving the only one to guard the Indians was the sheriff. By the

looks of the sheriff he couldn’t stop a boy trying to steal candy from a dry goods store. His protruding belly was an obvious result of home cooking, good home cooking. The lines below his eyes shown he had spent most of his life in this town had experienced the hot summers more than once along with the hot temper of settlers trying to get him to do more to protect the town. He did however have a very nice gun tucked neatly in his holster. The barrel of the gun extended longer than most guns of the time. The Sheriff had adjusted the holster to allow for the barrel to protrude past what normally would have been the end of the gun sheath thus generating a snug fit. The bright yellowish color of the pistol at times could blind person if they were to gaze at it as the sun reflected it’s brightness off of the barrel. The boots this man had tightly positioned on his feet were worn beyond repair. As he sat leaning back in his chair his legs crossed on the desk the Indian’s could see that the souls of his boots were almost gone. Large holes had eaten up what was left of the foot protection. The Indian’s wondered how he could walk in those boots, why he just didn’t by new one’s or walk barefooted. The cookie duster that hung over his lips was true to its name, if he ate a cookie or anything that generated crumbs, surely the remnants of his desire would show well on his dark brown mustache. The right hand of this man had been scared badly. It appeared that he’d been in quite a few fights during his rein as sheriff probably losing most of them. His left hand lay flat on his belly only three fingers remained on that hand. Obviously he’d had the other two fingers blown off in a gunfight or he might have had them eaten away by some disease. In either case it didn’t matter how they were taken off. The only thing that mattered to the three Indian’s in the cell was that he’d seen better days. They were sure that anything that frightened him would stop his heart. The sight of an Indian hanging from the rafters in a cell might just do the trick. But Running Bear wanted to make sure that he didn’t just see the Indian laugh then walk back to his desk. He had to be sure that the sight would cause major harm to him giving the Indian’s their chance to escape. Running Bear wanted to tell his new partners to put the plan into effect, but when he turned around from watching the sheriff noticing the rod iron door to the cell suddenly move a few inches outward his plan changed. “They didn’t lock the door,” he whispered to his partners. “All we have to do is sneak out of here not wake that white man and we’ll be free.” Lucky Wolf said, in a low almost unrecognizable tone. “I say he’s better off dead! No living white man is a good white man!” “Sh… said Running Lizard. “Now is the time to get out of here, why wake a sleeping dog? No telling what he’ll do if he wakes up as were escaping.”

All three looked at each other and for a few seconds quiet reigned supreme in the sheriff’s office except of course for the occasional snoring of a tired, old man who’d seen too many bad days. Running Bear opened the cell door slowly. The others followed behind him. Just outside the cell Running Bear quietly shut the cell door as he caught a glimpse of the back door to the office. He walked to it but this time opening a door in this sheriff’s office wouldn’t be as easy as getting out of the cell. It had been locked. It felt like it was bolted from the outside. “Now what?” asked Running Lizard quietly, “We go out the front door into the hands of the soldiers? They’ll kill us as soon as we step outside.” Running Bear walked quietly to the front windows peering out onto the street. From his position he could see soldiers on the boardwalk in front of the sheriff’s office walking back and forth. Running Bear almost revealed himself but quickly stood behind the small curtain to the left side of the window while the other Indian’s hid behind the desk as the soldiers walked by. The captain of the regiment undoubtedly placed the two soldiers there he must have known what the sheriff would be like if something happened and figured two lawmen would help secure the Indian’s in their place. The other Indian’s snuck up behind Running Bear. “Now what do we do oh wise one?” asked Lucky Wolf in a not so pleasing manner. “We wait Lucky Wolf,” said Running Bear. “We wait in the cell until half the night has ed then we can escape right under their noses. Look the soldiers out front are already staggering their almost dead on their feet. We just have to wait until dark and they’ll be asleep then we escape.” “You don’t think more soldiers will take their place,” asked Running Lizard. “Even if they do get other soldiers who you are. We are Indian’s! And we know how to walk past any white man in the dark without them ever knowing we were there - that!” Running Lizard looked at Lucky Wolf as if to say, “This Indian is crazy! We’ll never make it past those soldiers alive!” Running Bear could sense their resistance and said, “You don’t think it will work —do you?” “Running Bear,” said Lucky Wolf. “We don’t know you that well and you haven’t done anything to prove that you know what you’re talking about. Why

should we listen to you?” “Do you have any other choice,” asked Running Bear. “Running Lizard and Lucky Wolf I’ll prove to you that I can do it. When the time comes I’ll go out that front door come around back and take off the blockade from the back door to let you out. What you’ll have to do is find a way to unlock the door. The sheriff has a set of keys on his desk. If you can get those keys you can unlock that door, but be very quiet, that sheriff might not be fully asleep. The white man can be very tricky at times-we just have to outsmart them. The Sheriff may pretend he’s sleeping so that he’ll catch us trying to escape and shoot us. So be as quiet as a snake in a cornfield! Now, do you believe me?” “You haven’t done anything yet,” said Running Lizard. “When the time comes you’ll believe me and what I can do just make sure you unlock that door or you’ll be in there till morning and you know what will happen tomorrow morning.” Night crept forward. It wasn’t fast enough for the Indian’s. Arguments ensued almost every hour but Running Bear stuck to his plan eventually convincing the others that he could do what he said and would be back for them. As the clock in the sheriff’s office struck midnight the sheriff stirred a little but went back to sleep easily. The two soldiers out front had dropped to only one soldier however his eyes were closing fast. “Now is the time,” said Running Bear as he gently opened the cell door. The door, thickened with age, creaked in objection to movement. Running Bear stopped waiting for any movement from the one guardian. Nothing. The soldier slipped into a deep sleep from what Running Bear could see. The three Indian’s slowly, carefully walked outside the cell. “Now I will show you just how good I am,” said Running Bear. “This could be a trap,” said Lucky Wolf. “How many times has the white man left a cell door open with Indian’s inside?” Running Bear looked at the lock of the cell door and said, “This lock is so old its almost falling off the door. That’s why it opened, not because it’s a trap. But, I always expect something from the white man, even sleeping white men. Be quiet getting the keys and make as little noise as possible.” “We are Indian’s,” said Running Lizard, “We know how to be quiet.” Running Bear slipped by the sheriff up to the front door. He gazed out through

the window at the soldier on the chair next to the door. The confident Indian moved to the right and looked out the opposite window. A chair sat next to the wall just waiting for anyone to sit in its lap of wooden boards. Now that Running Bear knew he could get out he opened the door gently. As he turned around to close the door behind him the soldier woke up. Running Bear had to act fast. The prospect of him yelling or shooting would bring other soldiers and definitely wake the sheriff. When the soldier stood up before he could grab his gun Running Bear covered his mouth with one hand while he put his other arm around the soldier’s neck. A few seconds later the soldier’s limp body fell into Running Bear’s hands. A body falling on wood was not something he wanted to see or hear. He scanned the town from his vantage point as relief set in that no one had heard anything. Running Bear slowly lowered the soldier back into his chair. He quickly ran to the back of the jail removed the large wood barrier from the back door. He tried to open it but couldn’t. He said, as softly as he could, “Lucky Wolf… Running Lizard open this door now! Not a sound returned to him. Frustration set in as he heard shots from inside the sheriff’s office. Running Bear ran back to the front of the office bolted in and saw the sheriff lying on the floor as blood oozed from a tomahawk stuck in his back. Running Lizard sat against the wall where the key ring had been hung while blood crept down his head from a gunshot wound between his eyes. “What happened Lucky Wolf!” “Running Lizard had just took the key ring off the wall then dropped it. It fell on the floor and made such a loud noise that we thought the sheriff would hear it and wake up. But, the sheriff was too awake to have been asleep and as he stood up turned around and told us to stop he said, “I’ve been awake all night and heard everything you Injuns had planned. I was just waiting for the right time to kill all of you. Your buddy will be back soon so let’s make this quick.” He fired one round into Running Lizard trying to shoot me but his gun jammed. He turned toward the desk and that’s when it happened.” “What happened?” “The… the tomahawk, it… it came out of nowhere as if some invisible hand threw it… it hit the sheriff in the back. He fell onto the desk.” “A tomahawk can’t be thrown without someone throwing it Lucky Wolf. You

sure you saw what you thought you saw. It’s dark in here. Maybe you didn’t see the Indian who threw it.” “But Running Bear were the only Indian’s here.” Running Bear’s face became almost as white as the clouds in the sky. He walked over to the sheriff as Lucky Wolf followed. When he saw the sheriff again something had changed. The tomahawk had disappeared. A gaping hole in the big man’s back was the only evidence it had been there. Running Bear searched the area for the instrument of the sheriff’s demise when he found it underneath the desk. Reaching under the desk he retrieved it easily. Both Running Bear with Lucky Wolf beside him looked at the tomahawk. Almost immediately they realized it wasn’t from their tribe or any other tribe. Lucky Wolf snatched the tomahawk from Running Bear’s hands and stuck it in his belt. “It’s mine now! It saved my life so it’s mine! Running Bear could understand what Lucky Wolf thoughts were right now knowing full well he wasn’t about to give it up even if his life depended on it so he said. “Time to leave Lucky Wolf, before someone sees us in here-not in our cell.” Lucky Wolf led the way out of the sheriff’s office. This surprised Running Wolf because Lucky Wolf hadn’t been this confident before this made him a little nervous. Lucky Wolf opened the front door, saw the dead soldier stating, “Nice work Running Bear do you know a way out of here that won’t wake up the whole town.” “There are horses at the stable toward the end of town. We can take two of them-no one will notice.” Lucky Wolf agreed as they proceeded toward the stable. The still night gave them cover. A few minutes later the stable came into view. “I’ve got an idea,” said Lucky Wolf. Running Bear looked at him while he began to debate in his mind what Lucky Wolf would be thinking right now. “Why don’t we let out all the horses, except the one’s we need?” said Lucky Wolf as the eagerness of a child filled his face. “You crazy Indian! We can’t let all the horses loose they’ll wake up everyone!” “But if they don’t have horses they can’t follow us.” “That’s right Lucky Wolf, but they can follow our tracks!”

“Not if we let the horses loose after we’ve left town.” “Lucky Wolf you’re not making any sense! How do you plan to do that?” “Simple we tie a long rope onto the door and we hold on to the other end, then as we ride away the rope unwinds. As we get farther and farther away from the town it gets tighter, then the door will open and horses will be free.” “Huh… that’s not a bad plan Lucky Wolf but what is going to make the horses leave? Some might get out but the rest of them will still be there.” “I’ve figured that out too. See that snake over there, we just grab it wrap it around the door handle on the inside of the door, then when the rope pulls the door open the snake will fall that will make the horses will go crazy trying to get out.” “Well, that might work expect for one thing. There is no back door how are we going to get out once the snake is in place and still keep the door shut?” “There is a back door to the stable I saw it when we rode in this morning.” “You surprise me Lucky Wolf, I didn’t think you were this smart.” “That’s why I’m called Lucky Wolf. I always seem to escape from jails without being killed.” By this time the two had reached the front door of the stable. They looked around for any sign of life in the town or near the stable. They were safe. Running Bear happened to spot a snake that had moved closer to them as they approached the stable then he looked back at Lucky Wolf as if to say with his mind. ‘You get that snake.” “Don’t look at me Running Bear. I thought of this now you get that snake.” Running Bear gave Lucky Wolf a resistant smirk gently walking closer to the snake. “You know Lucky Wolf you should do this with your name and all you wouldn’t get bit.” Lucky Wolf smiled as he took the tomahawk from his belt hit the door lock a few times until it opened. Running Bear said softly, “Sh.” Lucky Wolf smiled again while waving him off. It took Running Bear a few long minutes to catch the snake. The snake somehow sensed that he wanted to catch it trying quite a few times to strike at Running Bear, But

Running Bear moved very fast and the snake couldn’t reach him. After about ten minutes of dancing with the snake it tired. It just sat motionless waiting for Running Bear to reach for it. Running Bear should have known that snakes are tricky especially one that looks as evil as this one. “Ah… now I’ll get you! You can’t run from Running Bear, not today.” He reached down to secure the snake by the back of its head when it struck hitting Running Bear Square in the hand. He yelled while the snake quickly scurried away. Lucky Wolf came running out of the stable with the tomahawk high in hand looking for any soldiers running as fast as he could to Running Bear. “What, what happened Running Bear?” “That… that snake bit me!” Lucky Wolf started to laugh. “Maybe I should have taken that snake instead of you.” By this time Running Bear had sucked out some of the poison. But enough had been left to make his hand hurt more than any arrow could. Lucky Wolf examined his hand, “Looks like you’ll need to get the rest of that poison out of your system or you’ll be dead soon.” Lucky Wolf saw the terror in Running Bear’s face instinctively thinking there could only be one thing to do. He didn’t want to do it. It meant that both of them would have to spend more time in this town plus take a huge chance of being caught, but deep down inside Lucky Wolf could not let another Indian die because of a snakebite. “I’m going to take you to the doctor here in town.” “Wait, you’re taking me to a white man’s doctor? You can’t do that! It’s against everything we’ve been taught! Take me to the tribe I talked about in the cell. I can make that ride.” “Running Bear I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t have to.” “It’s that bad?” “I’ve seen a lot of snake bites in my time but nothing as bad as yours. You need help fast!” “Okay but no talk of this after the doctor fixes me up—you understand Lucky Wolf?” “Yes, I do. No talk of this anymore to anyone.” Lucky Wolf helped Running Bear to the boardwalk.

“Where is this doctor’s office you were talking about?” “I don’t know Running Bear but every town has one.” They ambled back toward the sheriff’s office while Lucky Wolf looked at both sides of the uttering, “It’s so dark out here I can’t see much of anything. You see anything Bear?” “I can’t see. It’s all blurry. I feel weak.” Lucky Wolf turned toward Running Bear knowing that he’d started to succumb to the poison in his system-he had to get him to a doctor in a hurry. “I’ve got it!” yelled Lucky Wolf. We’ll go back to the sheriff’s office. He’s probably got a map of the town, It might show where the doctor’s office is.” “But… but it’s past midnight, how do we know if the… the doc is there? He might not live in the same place that he works in then I’ll die for sure. Besides didn’t you say I needed help right away? This will waste more time.” “We have no choice Running Bear you need help. You need medicine! We don’t have our medicine man here so we have to find that doctor even if we have to wake him up!” When they reached the sheriff’s office Running Bear could hardly walk-his face turned almost white with a few twinges of blue on the edges. Lucky Wolf helped him into the sheriff’s office propping him in the sheriff’s desk chair. The smell of flesh slowly rotting away had started to fill the office although both of them had seen death before neither one had had the experience of being in a room with a dead man. Lucky Wolf found a scarf used it to wrap Running Bear’s mouth and nose. Lucky Wolf searched the room for a map all the while coughing with repeated gagging at the smell of the sheriff’s body deteriorating. Minutes past slowly. Lucky Wolf thought more than once about leaving Running Bear here as he headed out on his own. But his name was Lucky Wolf not Stupid Wolf. Knowing that the rest of the soldiers were sleeping and before long would be up coming over to this office made the prospect of escaping not very plausible. He searched continually for what seemed like a half-hour or more without finding anything when he happened to gaze upon the sheriff’s desk. He had a very good idea. Running over to the sheriff’s desk he pulled out one drawer while fumbling through it. Nothing! He pulled the second drawer out. Nothing! He went over to the other side of the desk as the chair with Running Bear shifted

to the left. Lucky Wolf opened the first drawer. It sat in front of him like a gold bar gleaming in the sunlight. It was a map a map of Bonestown, besides that it had the location of the doctor’s office. After studying the map for a few seconds he said, “Running Bear we’re set let’s get you over to the doc.” He heard a loud thump. Running Bear had fallen on the floor. Lucky Wolf bent down gently turning over Running Bear. Death was at Running Bear’s door and knocking hard. He put his head down onto Running Bear’s chest hearing a faint heartbeat. Backing up as he stood he wasn’t sure if Running Bear would make it to the doctor’s office. Lucky Wolf could carry him but that would put him in danger of being shot without a chance to fight back. A few seconds . Lucky Wolf conscious got a hold of him telling him what he should do. Lucky Wolf bent down picking up Running Bear’s body. Then Lucky Wolf put Running Bear on his neck and shoulders. Time was not Lucky Wolf’s friend right now. He had to get to the doctor’s office wake the doctor up and have him patch up Running Bear. All this had to be done without arising or waking up anyone. He looked out through the window before trying to leave the sheriff’s office. The sun was about rise. Lucky Wolf had seen on the map that the doctor’s office sat about two blocks away on the same side of the street. That would be a long walk carrying a good sized Indian on your shoulders. The thought again rose up in his mind. “Leave him here. You can do better without him. He’ll slow you down and by the time the doctor treats him it’ll be mid-morning your chance of escaping will be cut in half.” Lucky Wolf dismissed that thought, committing himself to saving Running Bear’s life. He couldn’t worry about his conscious. When he traveled one block he turned around just in time to see a few soldiers heading toward the sheriff’s office. The good thing about that was that Lucky Wolf and Running Bear were opposite the soldiers heading away from them so the chances of them noticing the two Indian’s would be slim at best. Lucky Wolf didn’t want to take the chance that the soldiers might see him so he ran, not easily, to the doctor’s office. About the time he headed up the stairs to the doctor he heard one of the soldiers yelling commands at the rest of them. Now, the soldiers knew what had happened. They’d be searching the town for the Indian’s. The soldiers were very smart. They figured that the Indian’s would wait until morning for their escape, try to create a distraction and escape in the midst of it. Lucky Wolf made it to the landing put Running Bear down and kicked the door several times before it gave way. He carried Running Bear inside. By now the doctor had been awakened immediately running out of his bedroom saw the two

Indian’s then moved over to the rifle on the wall. “Wait! Were not here to hurt you. My friend here needs help. He’s been attacked by a rattlesnake and is in bad shape.” The doctor held his rifle out in front of him as he walked over to Running Bear. “You know,” said the doctor. “I could kill both of you right now and be a hero… but… your friend does need help. I don’t know why but I feel obligated to help. The Doctor laid his rifle on a table nearby. “But,” he said sternly, “You give me any problems and I’ll blow both of you away. I’m a crack shot. I can get both of you before you have a chance to try anything. Keep that in mind!” Doctor Clyde Chase told Lucky Wolf to put Running Bear on the table. The doctor examined Running Bear then strolled a few feet to a medicine cabinet grabbed a syringe with a small bottle of antidote. He returned to Running Bear, filled the syringe with the brownish-red fluid inserting the needle into Running Bear’s arm. “There that should do it! You’re friend is in bad shape. It may be too late for the antidote to work. Ah… Shit! Damn it! That means that I’ll have to keep him here for a few hours to see if we’ve caught it in time.” Dr. Chase looked up at Lucky Wolf, “You two were the one’s in the jail, right?” Before Lucky Wolf could answer the doctor said, “Yeah, yes you are! I when the soldiers brought you in. That means that you escaped! What happened to the sheriff? Did you Injuns kill him?? Lucky Wolf didn’t know how to answer that without the doctor getting upset maybe reaching for his rifle in the process, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Senses told him that the doctor wouldn’t believe that a tomahawk appeared from nowhere at stuck the sheriff. So he reluctantly said, “There was a fight and he got killed. I’m not sure who exactly killed him.” Lucky Wolf readied himself, as much as a man can, to run out the door or fight depending on what Dr. Chase did next. Lucky Wolf watched as the doctor’s eyes tightened while his forehead became tense. A few seconds later Dr. Chase began to laugh he laughed so hard that Lucky Wolf thought he’d die of laughing. “Why do you laugh at the death of the sheriff?” asked Lucky Wolf. “Oh… oh… you wouldn’t understand. But I hated that sheriff ever since he killed the previous sheriff. Indian, you did this town a big favor by killing him,

He was as bad and mean as any man I’ve ever seen. He’d around up townsfolk every once an a while and put them in jail for days at a time.” “What did they do to make him arrest them? “They didn’t do anything. That’s the point he did it for fun I guess. I asked him once why he did it. You know what that asshole told me? He said he was bored and wanted to do something that would cause a stir in the town.” “Why didn’t someone get rid of him?” “Apparently, and I don’t know if this is true, but he has connections with a higher up in the Calvary who convinced him to change their route back to their fort so they’d stop here in Bonestown, That way the sheriff, along with his buddy, could go out and have a good time in town. Usually meaning drinking, shooting up the bar, and… well… visiting the ladies of the evening, if you know what I mean Indian, I want to thank you, you put my mind to rest. I know this town will be better for him being dead. Now Bonestown can now get a sheriff that can actually be a sheriff.” Lucky Wolf watched Dr. Chase as he shook his hand just waiting for the good doctor to pull a gun from his belt. Dr. Chase walked over to the medicine cabinet, pulled open the doors revealing to Lucky Wolf shelf after shelf of varying size bottles all of them full of one or another type of liquor. “Injun, oh by the way, what do they call you?” “I’m Lucky Wolf.” “Lucky Wolf huh… well if you ask me that name fits you. You want some fire water Lucky Wolf?” “I know what liquor is. Why do you offer it to me? I’m an Indian shouldn’t you be wanting to have me arrested or killed?” Lucky Wolf, after what you two did, huh, you’ll probably get a medal. Son, I’d be grateful if you’d share a drink with an old doctor.” Lucky Wolf a bit apprehensive about drinking with a white man, surmised that Dr. Chase had the advantage that if he refused he might just end up in the ground somewhere or hung from some wooden structure for all the town to see. He secured the glass from Dr. Chase downed it in one quick gulp, shook his head, asking for more by motioning to Dr. Chase to fill the glass again. “My word son that’s some strong stuff you sure you want more?” “Yes, more Dr. Chase.” The two new friends drank until they seemed like they were best buddies. Time flew by so fast that before they realized it morning had turned past the midway point which meant that twelve noon would be here

before they realized it. Lucky Wolf had started to wonder why the soldiers haven’t come to the doctor yet. Although the liquor was good he had a sneaking suspicion that the doctor may actually be trying to keep him here so that he could be arrested and hung for killing the sheriff. About that time there a loud knock came from the front door. Lucky Wolf looked toward the door then back at Dr. Chase. “You tricked me. You… you wanted to… Lucky Wolf fell face down onto a large rug that covered an area in front of a sofa. Dr. Chase put his glass down sauntered over to Running Bear to check on his status then opened the door. “Bout time you guys got here that Indian can hold his liquor. He itted killing the sheriff and his buddy over there is almost dead so you might as well leave him. I’ll take care of his body. One of the two soldiers that entered the doctor’s office said, “Good job Doc, I’ll make sure the captain knows of your work.” “Good thing we rigged that flag to open when I opened the liquor cabinet the second time. But, I never thought it would work much less that you’d be able to see the flag on the roof pole from the street.” “It worked fine Dr. Chase we just couldn’t get here any earlier there were a small band of about five Indian’s that came galloping into town about the time your flag went up so we had to deal with them. Captain Reynolds had taken most of the men with him when he went out to the cemetery to bury corporal Willimas, the soldier these Indian’s killed.” “Well get to it gents! I want that Injun out of here and now! “What about the one on the table?” “Him… I told you he’s almost dead… huh he’ll be lucky if he lives another hour. I’ll take care of him. You just get that Injun out of here. Hell, he drank almost all of my best scotch. Damn Indian!” “Alright Jim and Sam,” said Harry, the soldier that seemed to be in charge of the small band of men “Help me lift this Indian out of the good doc’s place.” The three soldiers lifted Lucky Wolf, although not without problems dragging him out of the doctor’s office. Dr. Chase heard a loud thud, thud, splat opened the door to find the soldiers looking over the railing. “What happened?” “Oh… that Indian woke up trying to fight us so we pushed back and he fell over the

railing. “Is he dead?” “Doc he’s still moving a little bit. He probably just broke a few bones. Doesn’t matter though. Within about an hour he’ll be hanging by a rope for the entire town to see. Go back inside doc we’ll take care of him, good care of him, if you know what I mean.” Dr. Chase smiled quietly shuffling back into his office over to Running Bear. “Well my fine feathered friend when are you going to wake up? You know you’re buddy is about to be hanged. I imagine when you’re better you’ll be hanged as well. Funny, you have get better to die.” The doctor went back into his bedroom to catch up on some sleep shutting the door behind him, crawled back into bed immediately falling into a cavernous sleep. What seemed like hours to Dr, Chase, when in reality had been only one and half-hour later, the soldiers burst into his bedroom yelling, “Where is he doc? What did you do with him?” Dr. Chase fumbled for his glasses that had fallen on the floor when he crawled into bed. Finding them quickly he asked, “What, what guy are you talking about?” “The Indian Dr. Chase, he’s gone! Where is he doc? Tell us now or you’ll be the next to hang!” Dr. Chase got out of bed pushed the soldiers out of the way speeding over to the examining table. “This… this is impossible! He couldn’t have moved an inch, much less get up and walk out of here. I gave him a strong sedative with the antidote; he should have been out for hours!” “Then you really don’t know where he is doc?” said Harry. “No! No I told you I didn’t.” “Alright men we have to find that Indian! If we don’t we might as we’ll just go off in the desert and die. It’ll be either that or will be court-martialed. Now get going!” The three soldiers left the office as Dr. Chase continued to stare at the empty examining table almost as if he expected to see the Indian on the table if he concentrated hard enough. The doc staggered to his medicine chest, opened the door and said softly, “I’m sure I gave him a sedative with the antidote, I’m sure of it! Dr. Chase continued debating if he’d done what he thought he did as the men assigned the task of capturing the two Indian’s were scouring the town for Running Bear. Harry had to start thinking like an Indian in an effort to track down their quarry. The only problem he had, and it was a big one, is that he

wasn’t an Indian never did well at tracking Indian’s. Soon the captain plus the rest of the troop would be back. The captain wouldn’t be happy if they lost a drugged-up Indian. Hell he’d be furious which could result in the chopping of heads, their heads, with two swift movements of his sword. Harry told the other two soldiers to spread out at the beginning of the town while he would check out the other end of town. When the other two were done they were to come back in order to help Harry finish his search. Running Bear did escape the doctor’s office but he hadn’t gone far. He’d hid under the stairs to the doctor’s office covered by some barrels. He’d begun to shake off the concoction the doctor had given him while his sight returned to normal. The Indian hadn’t found out what happened to Lucky Wolf but soon would. Running Bear stayed there for about a half-hour. But what was odd is the fact that he had almost fully recovered from the snakebite. Dr. Chase didn’t count on the stamina of the Indian’s in this area. Running Bear used that to his advantage in escaping. Running Bear moved slowly out from behind the barrels. Glancing out from the edge of the wall of the first floor of the building that housed the doctor up and down the street he didn’t see much movement except for the swinging body hung from a rope at the end of town. Running Bear didn’t have to guess who swung in the wind he knew it was Lucky Wolf. “Lucky Wolf, my friend, looks like your luck finally ran out. Don’t worry brother they’ll pay for your death. I’ll see to that!”

Chapter 16

“Bonestown History—Running Bear’s Revenge”

Running Bear had the unlucky fortune to be the last Indian left in town. That would be an awkward possibly dangerous position for any Indian, not to mention one that had escaped from a white man’s jail. The only people of his kind were about twenty miles away. Somehow he had to find a way to get to them or he’d die in Bonestown. But before he could his brothers he had to make sure that Lucky Wolf did not die in vain. He had to exact a swift immediate consequence on the soldiers in addition to people of this town. The first place to start, he theorized, had to be at the sheriff’s office. There were guns there he could defend himself nicely with white man’s guns. Only one problem faced him at this moment. Soldiers armed to the teeth with guns would guard the sheriff’s office. Running Bear had had experiences similar to this one in the past. His task was to distract them from their job at hand or to kill them without making any noise to alert other soldiers. He ran back to the edge of the building that held the sheriff’s office. From behind the building Running Bear could sneak to the back of the sheriff’s office, if they hadn’t discovered that the plank of wood had been taken off, maybe Running Bear could open the back door walking right in as if he owned the place. As he hunched down going from building to building he noticed something behind the sheriff’s office. When he got closer realization appeared to strike him hard. What he’d seen were two soldiers guarding the back door. From his vantage point he could see part of the plank of wood re-secured to the door. “Fool soldiers! Now I’ve got to think of something else!” He wedged himself between bags of flour next to boxes of what looked like bacon and eggs. Then it hit him, “Dry goods store!” He turned around, saw a door and scrambled to it. Opening the door he found himself in the large back storeroom of the store. Before him lay shelves of food with supplies along one wall. While he walked he glanced upon some metal boxes in one corner of the room. He strolled over to them saw that all of them were unlocked after that he opened one of them. His eyes gleamed like a small boy that had received want

he desired for his birthday. Opening the rest of the boxes he smiled widely. They were all filled with guns, rifles, and ammo. Running Bear knew that these belonged to the soldiers. Soon they would belong to him. He calculated that they must have thought that putting them here would be a safe place. “They didn’t count on Running Bear—there mistake-my good fortune!” Running Bear began to pick which guns along with rifles he’d need, load them with ammo and start to arrange them in his belt. Soon he realized that that wasn’t going to work. Searching through the boxes he eventually found holsters with various leathermade gun-toting devices. He even found something to carry the rifles in. By the time Running Bear had finished he had so many guns along with a few rifles attached to him that from a distance you wouldn’t be able to tell that it was an Indian behind that mass of metal and leather. “This is perfect. Now I can fight soldiers and win. Watch me now soldiers, you’re about to die at the hands of the great Indian Running Bear! I will kill all of you with your own weapons. Afterward I will burn this town to the ground! That I promise you!” Although no one heard him extort his greatness it felt good to finally get a release from his frustrations. Running Bear wanted desperately to attack but as in the past he had to come up with a way of killing all the soldiers without being wounded or killed himself. The smell of the room with all the food tucked away in their neat temporary homes made Running Bear very hungry. He unloaded all of his fighting gear thereby granting him the freedom of movement he needed to find something to eat. It didn’t take long before he found a box of pears. The box proved easy to open as he ate pear after pear until he was fully satisfied. Now his main concern shifted to water or something like that to drink. Again he scoured the room for water or, if he were lucky, liquid happy juice. In the process of looking he tripped over a bag that jolted him forward onto a flour bag that had been torn earlier, maybe by Running Bear himself when he came in or maybe the soldiers opened it earlier. It didn’t matter to Running Bear the only thing he wanted to do was get it off of his face. He wiped off the flour as well as looking at his hands. Seconds later his face had a look of creation on it as if a light bulb went off in his head. “Cover you face and arms with flour before the fight. It might just make the soldiers think there is a ghost in town. Besides if that didn’t work it would take them by surprise then you’d have a chance to kill them before they realized what had happened.” “Good idea,” said Running Bear as if he were announcing his idea to a room full

of Indian’s. Taking the bag of flour he’d fallen onto he raised it over his head in addition to shaking it. The flour poured like a river going over a mountain cliff. Running Bear stood there laughing as he looked at his arms. However, the thirst he had experienced earlier became a torrent of desire for water or something stronger. Searching the aisles he found the aisles of food plus locating a box of liquor. Running Bear didn’t want to drink white man’s liquor plus he didn’t want to be drunk right before his attack but he needed liquid to restore his soul for fighting. The boxes weren’t marked with anything stating what kind of liquor they contained. Not that it would matter, considering Running Bear couldn’t read the white man’s words. Choosing a large bottle of that looked like it would be expensive to replace he cracked the neck of the bottle on the wooden shelf beside him. A spray of a very sticky substance hit Running Bear in the chest and the bottom of his face. It wasn’t liquor. Running Bear decided that a small taste would be okay. Upon putting a finger full of the liquid in his mouth he immediately spit it out. “Pew… sap? No… syrup!” Running Bear gazed at his outfit realizing that the syrup had made him look odd, along with the reflection of light coming through a high window glistened off of his clothes. “Might be strong enough to blind the soldiers.” he thought just as the door to the storeroom opened. Running Bear moved so fast it surprised him finding a hiding place beyond the shelf nearest the wall. The dry goods store owner walked in, retrieved some bags of flour from the front of one of the shelves, not realizing that an open bag lay just a few feet away from him and walked back into the retail section of the store. Running Bear ran out from behind the shelf searched through the box of what he thought was liquor finally found a bottle of the happy juice, drank it as fast as he could, then slipped out of the store into the alley behind. The two soldiers were still guarding the back door to the sheriff’s office. Running Bear had started to put his plan into action when he become conscious that he left the rifles in the store. “Fool Indian!” he said softly creeping toward the soldiers. Their voices could be heard easily so his immediate solution to killing them was to separate them that would enable him to attack each one. Doing it this way would mean he wouldn’t have two soldiers to fight with at the same time. Running Bear found a rock tossing it into a nearby cornfield waiting for one of them to move away. That didn’t happen. They both drew their guns looked around but neither of them moved more than a foot away from the door. “Fool Indian!” The subconscious can be an unfriendly thing if it keeps reminding you of what you did wrong. There was only one thing left to do, Running Bear had to attack both of them

hoping for the best. His desire to just run off into the field hopeful the soldiers couldn’t catch him grew strong. Now, he didn’t care about fighting other soldiers plus burning the town down, that would have to wait for some time in the future, now he wanted desperately to be back with people of his own kind. Pulling the guns from his belt, one in each hand, he stood up ran toward the soldiers. Within seconds the soldiers lay dead at his feet-their guns still in their holsters. “Wow that was easy. Fool soldiers! I guess the syrup with me screaming sacred them enough to the point where they couldn’t react in time. Huh, stupid soldiers. Running Bear is a great warrior! You two just found out how great I am!” The proud Indian that stood over the two dead soldiers now started a dance of victory around the men. Soon the dance finished quietly. Running Bear removed the wooden plank from the door. He turned the doorknob but nothing happened. Turning it again, still nothing. Then it came to him, “The door is locked. Running Lizard and Lucky Wolf didn’t have time to unlock it. Now Running Bear was at his wits end. He’d done everything to get to this point but a stupid locked door prevented him from reaching his goal. Reaching into his belt he secured another gun pointed it at the lock pulled the trigger blowing out the lock. He hoped that the sound of gunfire wouldn’t bring other soldiers but since he shot the two soldiers without anything happening the fear of more men to deal with was nothing more than a bubble in his subconscious. Running Bear began to think about how he became the only one left to carry on the beliefs of his tribe. Thoughts of burning the town to the ground again tumbled through his weary mind. For Running Bear the dilemma of whether to attempt to destroy the town by himself or just leave battled his conscious as if a great war had begun in his mind but only a rational thought would win the fight. In the end Running Bear decided the best thing to do was to get away from this town, find more Indian’s and attack later when he had help to finish the task he’d promised Lucky Wolf. As the day wandered forth Running Bear developed a method to get out of the town without anyone seeing him. This had to happen at night when he could be hidden by the darkness that enveloped this town. The plan was good, but for now, he had to stay hidden from any predators that may find him an interesting subject for hanging. The dry goods store seemed to be a good place that he could hide eat while being protected against the elements. Thoughts did in front of his mind that he could just run off through the cornfield right now without being seen by anyone. But then, the possibility that

someone, be it soldier or townsfolk may see him cropped up in his mind. That situation grew heavy on his mind. The more time he had to think about it the more he thought that he could hide his movements so as not to garnish the attention of any living soul. He’d planned attacks for his tribe for quite a few years and had, for the most part, succeeded in his plans, but this was different. His plan would be just for himself without the need of other Indian’s to help, just his own wit with cunning would deliver success to him. Finally, after much debate between his conscious versus unconscious, Running Bear settled on getting away from this town right now. Gazing into the field Running Bear didn’t see any kind of ranch or farmhouse. This might be good or bad. Either the farmhouse sat out of his view or hidden by the numerous trees that dotted the horizon or there could be a road on the other side of the trees or there could be houses. Running Bear didn’t know and didn’t care. If there were houses he could easily attack the owners making the house his own for a time. If there weren’t houses then that would mean that he’d have to find other Indian’s soon or his desire for sustenance would return. When to start his escape came easily. Running Bear waited until he knew that no soldiers would come back to check on the two he’d killed earlier which bothered him—why wouldn’t anyone come to check on them. Running Bear couldn’t dwell on why no soldiers came he had to leave. He took off as fast as he could into the cornfield. The corn grew tall and straight, tall enough to hide him perfectly so his thoughts of someone seeing him vanished. However, since they were so tall and the cornfield was packed with corn, it made it hard to decipher exactly where he was or how far he’d gone. Soon it became a game of finding his way out of the maze of corn rather than looking out for a house or other soldiers. Hours ed by so quickly Running Bear thought that he’d died and gone to hell. There was no way out! He tried everyway he could think of but all of them ended in frustration. The afternoon sun began setting as slow as a man just shot down trying to get up. Suddenly Running Bear heard what sounded like feet stepping through the maze behind him. It could only be the soldiers they are the only one’s that would come from that direction. If indeed the direction he heard the steps was the direction of the town. Small droplets of sweat trickled down his face as the fear of the unknown erupted within Running Bear. Seconds later a figure appeared. This figure sent chills through Running Bear thus making his hands shake. He fell to his knees and began praying. “Rise up.” the figure said. “You’re right in your thinking. I

am Lucky Wolf. I’m hear to help you in you’re journey.” Running Bear stood up shakily saying, “But… you… you were hung. I saw you hanging from the rope.” “You saw my body not my spirit. What you see now is the body the one I had. It is better that you see me in Lucky Wolf’s body. It is easier on your soul. Come Running Bear follow me. I will guide you through the maze. By the way loose your guns you won’t need them-they’ll just slow you down.” “But how am I going to defend myself against the soldiers?” The ghost of Lucky Wolf reached into his belt bringing a tomahawk into Running Bear’s view. “Look into the tomahawk Running Bear. See your future.” Running Bear looked into the blade of the tomahawk seeing himself and Lucky Wolf walking past soldier after soldier as the tomahawk cut off their heads as their head’s became part of the engravings on the blade. During this time however, Running Bear felt the sting of bullet after bullet hit his chest forehead and arms. Running Bear dropped the tomahawk yelling, “You want to kill me! All I saw was my death at the hands of the white man. What kind of future is that? I want to kill the white man and eventually destroy this town. That’s not what I saw!” “Running Bear your greatness goes beyond this life into the spirit world. You have been given the gift of a master planner so use that gift to change the future you just saw. Otherwise you will end up dead of no use to your tribe or the spirits. Do you understand Running Bear?” “I don’t know… maybe… but before I implement a plan, I have to get out of this fool cornfield.” “I will help you find your way. It may not be the way you are searching for but it will give you the opportunity to use your skills to gain what your heart desires.” With that said Lucky Wolf’s spirit led Running Bear out of the cornfield back to the town, where many soldiers were waiting, guns drawn, just itching for a reason to shoot. When Running Bear saw what the spirit had done he turned around then started running and shooting at the spirit as it dissolved into the cornfield. The soldiers were also shooting at Running Bear. Their bullets found

Running Bear’s back and arms thus making him twirl around as each bullet struck him. Running Bear fell onto the edge of the cornfield grasping for breath while he tried to escape. The captain walked up to Running Bear told his soldiers to take him back to doc’s place. One of the soldiers objected and said, “Why don’t we just leave him here. He’s almost dead anyway, why have the doc fix him up just so he can be hanged?” The captain turned to the innocent soldier slapped him across his face with his gloves. “Boy you listen to me! What I say goes! If I say take him back to the doc’s place that is what you’ll do! Do you understand me boy?” “Yes… yes sir captain!” “Good, now help your fellow soldiers lift him up to carry him back to doc’s place and be quick about it!”

Chapter 17

“Bonestown History—Running Bear’s spirit takes over”

Running Bear lay unconscious as the men placed him on a horse taking him back to Dr. Chase’s office. When the soldiers brought him in placing him on the examining table the doctor came out from a small office area next the examining table and said, “I knew it! I knew I gave him the right medication; he just escaped when we were in the bedroom. What’s that stuff he’s covered in? The doctor bent down took a small sample of it on his finger, smelt it and said, “Syrup and flour? Wonder what he was trying to do with that stuff. Huh, that’s one tough Indian. Or maybe I should say that was one tough Indian. You guys sure made a mess of him. Why didn’t you just leave him for the buzzards?” The captain gave the doctor a look of immediate frustration saying, “Just fix him up well enough to be hanged. That’s all we need, Okay doc?” “I’ll… I’ll do my best, but I can’t guarantee that he’ll survive more than a few minutes.” “Just do what you can doc, we’ll take care of him after you’re done.” The soldiers left. Dr. Chase faced the prospect of fixing Running Bear again and began to scratch his head in amazement. “Okay you Injun what can I do to keep you alive until tomorrow when you’re hung by the neck until dead. This is going to take some doing.” Dr. Chase worked for hours finally stabilizing Running Bear’s condition. He wasn’t sure how much longer he had but he did all he could do. Now Running Bear’s stamina and will to live would have to pull him through. Dr. Chase moved Running Bear out of view of anyone coming in to see him. After that the doctor brought out an old examining table and set it up. Dr, Chase moved the table with Running Bear on it into his bedroom shutting the door behind him. Hoping that the smell of blood plus medication wouldn’t travel beyond the bedroom. Although after succeeding in his task he thought, “That’s stupid! Everyone knows I’m a doctor so the smell of blood and chemicals would be normal. The thing they wouldn’t understand is me trying to heal an Indian. Better I keep him hidden though. Out of sight out of trouble.” A few minutes as Running Bear condition didn’t change, in fact, he’d gotten

worse. The doctor tried everything he could think of but nothing worked. “Well, it looks like your Injun days are coming to a close Injun. Guess maybe you killed too many white folk now the tables have turned against ya. That’s what you get for trying to steal, kill and ravage a town. Stupid Injun’s!” Dr. Chase heard a knock on the front door. After asking, “Who’s there?” he realized it was Carol Guttimine so he left Running Bear on the examining table with a sheet over his body. He didn’t think twice about putting a sheet over an Indian soon he’d be dead and wouldn’t harm any other white man or woman. The doctor answered the door and began work on Carol Guttimine. Something wrong with her leg or so she said when he heard a noise coming from the examining table Running Bear had been laid on. He turned and didn’t see anything out of place. “Maybe it was just my imagination playing tricks on me,” hr thought. Consequently the doctor went on about his business. After he’d mended Carol’s leg he sent her on her way then back over to Running Bear. He lifted the sheet as his eyes became bright with happiness-Running Bear had died. Running Bear’s face and arms had begun to turn blue a sure sign of the grim reaper’s appearance. “Shit! He yelled. “Those soldiers will be back here expecting to see an Indian alive partially anyway. Now how am I gonna explain this? Huh, nothing really to explain, they knew he’d die soon, so why am I worried about what they will think. Damn it! I’m the doctor here not them and I say when a man or Indian is dead and I’m saying it right now! This Indian is dead and their isn’t anything they can do about it!” Doctor Chase pushed Running Bear off the table then reached down dragging him toward the back room of his office. In that room the doc stored at least three coffins at a time just in case his extensive experience didn’t work. Besides that Dr. Chase was also the town mortician so it figured he’d be ready for the dead when they slipped beyond this earth. He struggled to put Running Bear in a plain wooden box while he cursed every minute he had to spend realigning Running Bear’s body so it would fit in the coffin. Dr. Chase was not a young man. A feat such as this is not something he should or would do in any normal case, but this was different, this was an Indian. Sweat poured from his face as it turned white with frustration at his inability to lift the large Indian into his final resting place. Time after time he tried but couldn’t manage to put Running Bear in the coffin. Sweat discharged down his

face when he finally decided to take a break. The doctor walked over to his liquor cabinet, retrieved a large bottle of scotch swallowed a heaping mouthful of the liquid without thinking twice. “Ah… that’s better. Now I feel much better. But what do I do with that Indian? How do I get rid of him? I could just wait for the soldiers to get back and have them take him away. But then they’d take out their frustration on me for not saving his miserable red skin for hanging.” A new powerful noise came from where Running Bear laid but this time the doctor had a full view of him-still he didn’t see anything. “What the hell is going on in here?” he yelled as he dropped his bottle swaying back and forth, as a result of emptying the bottle into his rather large stomach over to Running Bear. He searched the area around the coffin including the Indian-nothing out of order or unusual. Scratching his head he stood in front of Running Bear trying to figure out what happened when he saw it hovering at the other end of the room. It was Running Bear’s spirit floating in mid air looking right at the good doctor. “I… I didn’t do anything to you. You… you were dying. I… I tried to save you,” said Dr. Chase wiping some leftover scotch from his lips with a shivering hand. The spirit began to move closer to the good doctor as he stumbled backward toward the front door of his office. Running Bear’s spirit spoke in tones reminiscent of a deep, rusty voice. “You killed me! You tricked Lucky Wolf. You killed me!” “No… No I didn’t! I swear to you I didn’t kill you! I tried to save you, not kill you! Why would I kill you? I have nothing to gain by that!” “No matter white man you are working with the soldiers and they wanted me dead. Therefore, you want me dead. You are about to learn white man what its like to experience the revenge of an evil spirit!” The ghostly image of Running Bear pinned the doctor to the front door. Dr. Chase didn’t know how a spirit could do that but figured now wasn’t the time to figure out why things were happening, but to figure out a way to escape with his life intact. The spirit spoke again to the doctor. “You have one hour to make

you’re bad deeds right.” The spirit slowly moved backward back into Running Bear’s body. Dr. Chase couldn’t stop shivering. It felt as if the cold of the mountain air had been trapped in his body trying desperately to get out. He stumbled over to liquor cabinet and began drinking every bottle of scotch he could find, as he intermittently looked toward Running Bear, hoping that the spirit wouldn’t rise again. “This isn’t real,” he said. “Ghosts can’t appear and talk to the living… its… its not possible. “He looked at the bottle in his hand and the one’s that lay by his feet surmising that the booze made him see the ghost and that nothing really happened. The doctor started to go about his duties though rather haphazardly but couldn’t get the thought of the ghost out of his mind. “What if it was real? What if I don’t undue what I’ve done, does that mean I’ll go to hell? But… what have I done? I’ve tried to save that Injun, except for when… Then it donned on him what the ghost had been talking about. It had to be the time that he trapped Lucky Wolf plus the fact that when Running Bear recovered he would turn him over to the soldiers as well. “This is crazy! If I don’t give Running Bear to the soldiers they’ll come after me maybe hang me for letting him go. Then if I were to somehow heal that Injun then the ghost won’t come after me the soldiers will take him to be hanged the next day and probably kill me anyway.” Dr. Chase had a problem on his hands with no good solution. A loud knock came from the front door while a muffled voice yelled, “Doc, open up, hurry, he’s gonna die if you don’t help. Please open up!” The doctor forgot about his horrible visitor while he rushed to open the door. On the other side of the door were two soldiers carrying a wounded soldier. They dragged him in laid him on the ground. “Wait, wait a minute,” said the doc. “Isn’t he one of the two men that were behind the sheriff’s office, and weren’t they killed?” “That’s what we thought,” said one of the men, “But when we were bringing him here for you to put in one of your coffin’s he started to move and groan. So we got him here as fast as we could.” Dr. Chase helped the men put the wounded soldier on the doc’s old examining table. When they finished one of the soldiers walked around, close to the doctor’s office, noticing the open door to the doctor’s coffin room along with Running Bear in a coffin. “Is that the Indian that had been shot trying to escape from the cornfield?” Dr. Chase ran over to the door closing the coffin room door quickly. “Ah… yes, that’s the Indian. I’m… I’m trying to keep him alive until

morning.” “Huh… if I were you doc I’d have killed him by now. You know give him something to speed up the dying process. At least you’ve made sure he’ll fit in a coffin good work doc.” “Well, you’re right about that but you’re not me soldier you guys have done your duty now leave me alone so I can help your friend here.” The two soldiers looked at each other strolling out as one of them said, “We’ll be back a few hours to see how he’s doing. Fix him up good doc, he’s one of our best soldiers.” They slammed the door. Their footsteps were loud then faded away hurriedly. Dr. Chase shuffled over to his desk opened one of the larger drawers secured a sign, went to the front door, opened it placing the sign with the backside out around the doorknob. “There that should do it. Maybe those soldiers will be able to read, “Closed,” and not bother me anymore. And maybe, just maybe I’ll be done with all this by the time those two come back. Wait a minute… they won’t read the sign they’ll just try the door if that doesn’t work they’ll pound on it till I answer. “Hell! I don’t give a damn right now!” If I plan this right I may have some time to get some rest before all hell breaks loose.” The doctor thought about the sign he’d put on the door, went back quickly taking it off. “It’s no use putting that sign out there,” he thought, “what if some townsfolk need help that just wouldn’t do, no sir, just wouldn’t do.” He then went to work on the soldier feverishly trying to save him. The soldier looked to be in almost as bad a shape as Running Bear the doc didn’t give much hope of saving him. Dr. Chase started thinking about what he’d been doing. “All I’d be doing is sewing up wounds besides pronouncing him dead.” As he opened up the wounds he surmised nothing more could be done. The soldier had been thrashed to within an inch of his life. Trying to repair the wounds would be like trying to fly from here to San Francisco. His heart had been cut deeply. The doctor couldn’t believe that it still kept beating by all the current standards he should have been dead with the first slice of what looked like a large knife or hatchet. Dr. Chase examined the soldier more closely finding the same gashes all over the soldier’s chest. “No hope for this one,” he said, “Too much blood loss. He’ll never survive an hour why did they bring him here. He doesn’t stand a chance of living he’s lost way to much blood. Just as Dr. Chase started to close up the soldier he saw something in one of the wounds. He pulled it out cleaning it completely. It looked like a piece of metal. At least that’s what the doctor thought it might be. Dr. Chase had never seen anything like this. When he held it up to the light he could see something moving, instantly dropping the piece onto the floor. Running back over to the medicine cabinet he almost fell on some spilt scotch

but made it to his cabinet. Taking a swig of the remaining scotch eased the pain and emotions somewhat. I’ve got to stop drinking now I’m seeing things. About this time the ghost of Running Bear re-appeared. When the doctor turned around he jumped back so fast he hit the cabinet tumbling to the floor laughing. I really must be drunk. I’m seeing things again. “You ARE drunk,” said the ghost of Running Bear, “But, I’m a caring spirit, IF you do the right thing. If not… well you’ll die a horrible death, one death that even the greatest spirit’s never experience. I have taken over Running Bear’s spirit. I AM one of the greatest Indian spirits if not the greatest! I’ve saved this death for you. “However, I’ve decided to give you another chance to redeem yourself white man. But you will do what is right to save yourself or you will experience the wrath of one of the greatest evil spirits!” With that said the ghost of Running Bear vanished leaving Dr. Chase to figure out what should be the correct thing to do. Even with his limited sense of thought the doctor did concoct a way to do what he thought the spirit wanted. He took the shard of metal over to Running Bear placing the shard into one of Running Bear’s wounds stood back and waited. Dr. Chase concluded that his salvation had something to do with that shard so he wasn’t about to give up his soul without trying everything he could think of. He waited for long time until the liquor he’d drank took hold of his body making every particle of his being so relaxed that he collapsed into a drunken stupor. The next day the soldiers came back found the doctor sound asleep on the floor. “Wake up! The captain yelled, “Wake up you Indian lover! Wake the hell up!” The captain kicked the doctor’s side as the doctor rose wobbling and stumbling around the office. “What happened to that Indian Dr. Chase?” The doctor scratched his head looked around the office and bedroom. “I… I… don’t know, he must have been taken out by your soldiers in the middle of the night, all I see is the soldier. Wait… wait a minute. The doctor rubbed his eyes looking at the table again. “What happened to the soldier I had on the examining table?” “He’s dead doc. My men came back here while you were drunk out of your mind found him dead on your table, and the Indian gone. That’s when they came and

got me. You know what this means doc don’t you?” Dr. Chase looked dischelved whilst trying to rearrange his clothes. “Ah… no, what does that mean?” “You mean you don’t know what happens to Indian lovers in this town? You’ve been here, what is it five years now, you should know that by now!” “But, wait, wait, I didn’t let him go! You can see I’m in no condition to let anyone go. Besides he wasn’t in good enough shape to leave on his own. Someone had to take him out of here! You’ve got to believe me! Look at me! I’ve been drinking all night how could I have carried him anywhere?” The captain hated to it it but the doctor was right. Dr. Chase smelt of booze plus an awful sweat aroma. No one in his shape could have carried that Indian out of here safely. “Damn it all to hell! . . . Which one of you guys got rid of that Indian? C’mon, tell me now or I’ll make sure that when I catch you you’ll be hung from the highest tree I can find without a fair trial. However, if you tell me now as well as why you did it… and of course where his body is, I’ll make sure you get a fair trial, and if you have a good enough reason, I may… emphasis… may… put in a good word with the judge when he gets here next week. Okay, who did it?” The room fell silent much like the graves of the town cemetery right after a burial. “Alright no one wants to talk fine! I’ll find out who did it so help me!” The soldiers with the captain leading the way left slamming the door shut. Doctor Chase turned around to go back to the soldier on the table when he felt a chill go through him. He didn’t know why but felt compelled to look into the coffin room almost falling over backwards when he saw him. Running Bear stood beside the coffin. He wondered why just a moment earlier he couldn’t see Running Bear and neither could the soldiers. Time to ponder the situation wouldn’t be given to him this time. His conscious told him to get out of there fast. Dr. Chase started back toward the front door when he heard that rusty, deep voice. Turning around swiftly he didn’t see anything but could still hear that

voice. “You’ve done well for a white man,” it said, as the voice seemed to encircle the room. “You did what I wanted-that is good. Now I can revive Running Bear nothing will be able to stop him, nothing!” Dr. Chase stood silent trying in his mind to decipher where the voice came from. “Yes Dr. Chase you’ve done well, but now it’s my turn.” “Wha… what do you mean it’s your turn. You said if I did what you want you wouldn’t hurt me. You did say that didn’t you?” “Dr. Chase you do not understand the ways of Indian spirits regarding white men. Yes you did do what I planned for you to do but now it is time for your final act. This act will bring you into the world of the spirits for eternity. Would you like to find out what I have planned for you Dr. Chase?” “No! No! You said if I did what you wanted you wouldn’t kill me… now you’ve gone back on that promise.” “Promise? What promise? Evil Spirits can’t make promises! All we can do is state a fact. The fact that you’ll die a horrible death if you didn’t do what I asked is true. However, I didn’t say you wouldn’t die. You will die, and die soon.” The spirit reappeared in front of the doctor reached into the doctor’s chest slowly pulling out his heart. It was still attached to its inner piping-beating rather fast. One odd thing though, if tearing a heart out of a human being isn’t odd enough, its that Dr. Chase wasn’t dead, but still alive as he watched the spirit gently squeeze Dr. Chase’s heart. Screams of agony echoed throughout the doctor’s office as smatterings of blood hit everything within three feet of Dr. Chase. “You see Dr. Chase the heart is a marvelous thing. If I were to squeeze it more tightly you’d be dead in seconds, but at this stage your heart is still beating, faster than normal right now, but still beating. A second later the spirit raised his hand while a tomahawk grew from the fingers of his other hand. Dr. Chase you are about to become a spirit with a task to perform, a task that will take hundreds of years and when complete, you’ll be alive again only in a different time and place. The spirit looked at his hand that transformed into a tomahawk watched as the tomahawk became separate from his hand, now he held it like an Indian would do when he was about to kill someone. “Dr. Chase this won’t hurt. I’ll make sure it’s swift and complete. Oh and by the

way that death I told you about, this is it, except that it WILL be horrible for you. Watch and learn Dr. Chase, watch and learn.” The tomahawk shook as well as the spirit’s hand as he brought the tomahawk down on Dr. Chase’s heart swiftly. When the act was done Dr. Chase fell against a wall slumped to the floor in a sitting position. His heart had been cut into two pieces that the spirit now held. Amazingly, Dr. Chase still held on to life. The spirit bent down lifted Dr. Chase’s head up so that he could look into his eyes. “Dr. Chase I’m keeping you alive so that you can hear your task then I’ll take all the life out of you. Your task, once your spirit is in this tomahawk, is to make sure that all of your descendants aren’t given any freedom from evil or rest from evil spirits throughout time. You’ll do this because of what you’ve done here also because of an Indian that has died by the hands of another. Your task is to complete this no matter how long it takes, all of it must be done!” The spirit let Dr. Chase’s head drop quickly dissolving into air never to return. Hours later the soldiers returned found the doctor on the floor with pools of blood surrounding him. The younger, less experienced soldiers threw up what contents they had in their stomachs while the more experienced were shocked at the doctor’s appearance. Besides not having a head, the doctor’s skin had withered away so all that could be seen is a frail, bluish-gray body with a large hole where his heart should have been. For days afterwards the townsfolk talked of what happened to Dr, Chase. No one, not even the men who saw his body could figure out why he died so horribly who would have the guts to kill a man in such a fashion. Throughout the years that followed Dr. Chase’s memory became a small prick in the history of Bonestown. It mattered little the real reason for his death, but it always plagued the soldiers found his headless body. The sight of Dr. Chase’s dead body affected most of the soldiers so much that they had killed themselves only days after it happened. The captain went on to bigger and better things becoming a general just three years after this incident. But when he found himself alone at night he brought out something he always carried with him, the doctor’s watch, as a reminder that evil exists and he will never let a man be killed like that again, even if it means his life.

Chapter 18

“Bonestown History—Little Eagle”

A young Indian woman by the name of Little Eagle was a member of a tribe called the Aranpo’s. Her face stood out as fair as a golden weave of hay but her thoughts were all her own. No white man could change her opinions about anything. This is what she believed until one day when her tribe attacked a wagon train killing all but a few of the men. The leaders of the attacking force decided to take the men back to camp in an effort to use them as slaves. An act like this brought on resentment from most of the tribe but the leaders explained that making the white man work for them would give them great power over all white men, that it could only bring favor among the gods, as the tribe would be doing something new when the men were done with the tasks assigned them by the tribes leaders, the Indian’s would kill them so they could weave their scalps into small bags to hold food and grain. A procedure like this would have to be blessed by the medicine man before any such activity would take place. Little Eagle was the daughter of the medicine man, Flying Eagle, because of this she warranted more respect than the other women of the tribe. Little Eagle gained a good measure of insight into her father’s craft thereby stirring up her dream of becoming the first medicine woman in any tribe. Such a desire didn’t set well with her father or the rest of the tribe. Women were supposed to make their men happy, have babies along with feeding their men plus any children they would have. Women never were allowed to speak to the gods or fight alongside their men counterparts. Although she had been prohibited from using her fathers’ medicines along with spells, she would practice the spells in hiding while using the medicine on animals she’d find in the woods. Little Eagle proved to be very good at hiding her hobby from her father and the tribe. As far as the rest of the tribe knew she was just a young girl who hadn’t turned into a woman yet, despite her age of seventeen. Little Eagle stood five-foot-seven-inches tall, had long black hair that gently swayed skimming along her lower backside when she walked. She was

Flying Eagle’s daughter so she could do almost anything she wanted, except her father’s career. Little Eagle longed for more than the life of a typical Indian woman. She wanted the normal things like a man with a family, but she also wanted power, power over men besides the ability to have her say in decisions of the tribe. At age seventeen she felt as though her dreams would never see the light of day, until one day when the leaders of the tribe came back with four men. All but one man lost her interest. The man that excited her making her long for a family would soon be called “Slow white man,” because he happened to be the last to load and fire his gun at the attacking Indian’s. That name would stick with him like jelly on bread. He would learn to hate it with all it stood for until Little Eagle reached down in her soul garnering enough nerve to walk over and try to communicate. Slow white man worked at cleaning up after the horses as well as being forced to hunt and kill food for the Indian’s, of course with an Indian alongside to make sure he did what he should and not try to escape. It took months before time allowed the two to be alone with each other. Little Eagle with Slow white man talked incessantly when together. Their understanding of each other’s language slowly grew. By the third month they could talk while understanding each other fairly well. Times to be alone with Slow white man without her father checking up on her became harder for Little Eagle to hide. She was afraid that soon she’d be caught and killed by her own father. That was tradition. If an Indian woman were to become close with a white man she would be killed. Little Eagle planned to live a long life. No tribe of Indian’s would stop her from reaching her goal. She called him Slow white man as did the rest of the tribe but one day Slow white man decided to tell Little Eagle his real name. Little Eagle didn’t want to learn his name for fear of accidentally saying it in front of her father. Slow white man said that wouldn’t happen because he knew her too well. He knew that she would do everything she could to avoid giving away her secret meetings with him consequently convincing her to let him tell her his given name. “My name is George Street. I… I… love you and want to marry you.” It took George saying that several times for her to understand what he said, but when it sunk into Little Eagle’s mind a great smile grew on her face. She jumped toward George both of them fell down on some twigs and brush that hid their meeting place. Eventually they came up with a plan to escape and live a life of their own. George still cleaned up after horses in addition to hunting for food for the

Indian’s so they had to be as secretive as possible. Little Eagle asked George if their were any plans of attack or escape he’d used against the Indians before he was captured that might work in allowing them to escape without being killed. George thought for a moment, “There are a few escape plans I know of, plus a few attack plans that we could use if faced with fighting for our lives. Little Eagle became more interested as George explained the details. By the time George had finished Little Eagle had a pretty good idea of what the men in a wagon train would do if attacked by Indians. She told George to make sure that their hiding place wouldn’t be discovered. The hiding place had to be secure so she could make plans of her own to escape from her father, who always kept a close eye on her. Little Eagle gave George a kiss before scampering back into camp. George waited while Little Eagle developed her plan. As he waited he fell fast asleep, the work of the day had worn him to a frazzle. He awoke a few minutes later to find himself being tied up with Little Eagle standing across from him with her father. The rest of the tribe stood nearby watching closely. “What, what’s going on Little Eagle, why did you…” “Enough white man,” said Little Eagle. “You really think I loved you… you are one stupid white man. No Indian woman can fall in love with a white man. I used you to find out the plan of escape and attack that white men use when attacked by Indian’s and you provided it willingly.” “But, you, you speak almost perfect English, how could you… “I learned your language from other white men that tried to do what you have tried-I did the same to them. You will now die a death suitable for a white man, the death of ants. I should be saying Slow and stupid white man, have you heard of this death?” “No, I haven’t, but Little Eagle I love you. Why are you doing this to me? I love you!” “Love is not for a white man and an Indian woman. It isn’t done. It will never be done. You were tricked by a little Indian woman who knows very little of the white man ways, how will you explain that to your god? Take him away… prepare him for his death at noon tomorrow.”

Slow white man was taken away put into a teepee at the edge of camp. A fire had been built around the teepee, except for the entrance, to prevent him from trying to escape while three Indian’s stood just outside the entrance. Slow white man wasn’t given any food, just a potion prepared by the medicine man that is supposed to make the recipient very clam as well as putting their mind into an almost trance like state. Slow white man would stay in this state all night by morning he’d be so clam he wouldn’t know what happened that way the Indian’s could tie him to wooden poles before letting the ants have at him. This was the normal procedure for any white man that was to be killed, but tonight, Little Eagle had made plans of her own. Little Eagle approached the front of the teepee with bottles of liquid on a tray. “Why do you come here Little Eagle,” asked one of the guards. “You forget so easily Grand Teton?” said Little Eagle. “I’m here to give that white man his potion so he’ll be ready for tomorrow.” “Isn’t that your fathers duty Little Eagle?” “My father is busy communicating with the spirits and does not wish to be disturbed. If you block me any longer the potion will lose its strength. How will you explain to my father why the white man isn’t ready for his death by ants tomorrow Grand Teton?” “Little Eagle you’d better not be trying something. Lucky Feather and I will be right here and if we hear anything unusual will be in there and take both you and the white man to your father for punishment. Do you hear me Little Eagle?” “I hear you Grand Teton, now you hear me. Let me in or I will give you this potion, dress you as the white man then you’ll be given the death of ants instead of the white man!” “You make me laugh Little Eagle. The white man is smaller than me. I’m much stronger than he is. No one will believe that I am the white man. Have you lost your senses Little Eagle?” “Just let me in there or I’ll see to it you are never allowed to guard anyone anymore and that you’ll be doing what the white man has done for the rest of your life! Now! Let me in!” Grand Teton looked at the other Indian-his equal-and he shook his head in

agreement. Now Grand Teton had to believe Little Eagle or take his chances with what she had threatened. A few seconds . Grand Teton pulled back the material blocking the door. “Thank you Grand Teton, I’ll make sure my father learns of your generosity.” Little Eagle walked into the teepee over to Slow white man. “Sh… don’t say anything George honey, I do love you, but I had to say those things because my father caught me coming out of the forest so I had to think fast that’s how I came up with that story. George started to talk but Little Eagle blocked his words by her fingers over his mouth. “Sh… don’t say anything. I have a plan. The warriors out front are very good at their job nothing gets past them so I have to make them walk away from this teepee so that you can escape then meet me by the falling water of the big cliff. Tonight it is very hot so I plan to use Grand Teton’s misplaced desire for me, along with his desire to get out of the heat, to our advantage. She could see what the look on Slow white man meant and responded; “No I’m not going to make love to him. I just want him to think that then I could lure him away from the teepee. All you’ll have to do is take care of Lucky Feather. He’s not that brave. It’ll be easy for you to over power him. George whispered almost as softly as Little Eagle had been talking, “How are you going to make Grand Teton walk away from guarding me. If he’s as good as you say, he’s not going to be lured away from here easily. “That is true my love, but as I said, he likes me a lot. I have a feeling he’d do anything for me if I wanted him to.” “But I heard him trying to stop you from coming in here. Are you sure he feels about you the way you think he does? It didn’t sound like he cared much for you from what I heard. “Grand Teton is big and strong. But he’s also a pushover when it comes to women. He talks tough but I can make him do what I want him to. Just watch me.” Little Eagle put the bottles on the ground as she picked up the tray in her left hand. “You finished in there Little Eagle?” asked Grand Teton. “Yes I am,” she replied as she ambled outside. “Boy it’s hot out here, almost as hot as day. I need to get cooler. Little Eagle untied her scarf holding it in front of Grand Teton then dropped it on the ground. She began to unbutton her shirt as Grand Teton said, “What are you doing Little Eagle? If anyone were to see you, you’d be banned from the tribe for good.”

“Don’t worry Grand Teton, I’m doing this for you. I’ve seen how you look at me.” By this time she’d unbuttoned all of the buttons that held her shirt together. “I know you like me,” she said as she meandered a few feet in front of him while she removed her shirt, then turned around to face Grand Teton. Grand Teton looked at the other Indian next to him, then back at Little Eagle. She hinted for him to come with her into the woods. Little Feather touched Grand Teton on the shoulder, smiled, and gestured toward Little Eagle. Grand Teton told Little Feather to watch out for slow white man, as he dropped his bow and arrow jaunting after Little Eagle. Little Feather made the mistake of standing with his back to the opening of the teepee. This gave slow white man the opportunity he wanted. He quietly walked up behind Little Feather knocking him out. George “slow white man” Street looked ahead seeing a partially covered image Little Eagle through the brush and trees. She looked back toward him while hitting Grand Teton on his head with her hands. He rubbed his head looking at her with surprised eyes. She hit him again on the head, only harder, more forceful, he fell heavily onto the ground. Little Eagle buttoned her shirt as she bolted out of the woods into George’s arms. “What are we going to do now?” asked George. Little Eagle grabbed his hand. They took off away from camp hugging and kissing each other along the way. Night had become ominous as the hours ed. Soon it would be too dark for them to continue. She found a place that would be sufficient for hiding as the two of them huddled behind a large rock. “Little Eagle your family will be hunting for you soon, are you sure this is what you want?” “I only know one thing George, I love you. I want to be a powerful woman and… well… I want to feel pretty. I have no chance of that living with my father, but with you, you know how to make me feel pretty and I can be my own with you. You understand?” “Sure I do, but we need to get farther away from your camp before dawn or we’ll both be found and killed. Little Eagle motioned for George to be quiet. “Horses, they come from camp. They discovered my escape faster than I thought. We need to move George.” “Where? Where do we go Little Eagle?”

“Follow me. I know the woods better than any other Indian.” The two hunched down running farther into the woods. Little Eagle ran by memory now more than anything else-sight was virtually impossible. George could do nothing more than hang on to her hand as she pulled him deeper inward away from any type of civilization. “Do you know where were going Little Eagle?” She dropped his hand turned around and gave George a look that even the dark of night couldn’t prevent George from seeing. “I… I guess you do.” “I said I knew these woods, I do!” She grabbed his arm pulling him through the woods again until she came upon an old run down house. “We’ll be safe in there,” she said as she pulled George hard. When inside George rubbed his wrist saying, “Why would we be safe here?” ““George this place is spirit filled,” replied Little Eagle. “No Indian will come here.” “You… you mean this place is haunted?” “Spirit filled! Maybe you call it haunted, we call it spirit filled.” “That’s good Little Eagle, if spirits attack, you can talk to them.” “Why you not call me by another name than Little Eagle? Don’t white women have other names besides their natural name?” “Huh… Oh you mean nicknames, right?” “What are nick… nicknames?” “They are names that aren’t a person’s real name but a shortened version of a name that one person in love with another may call them as a way to say I love you. Let me think… ah, how about I call you Princess? How does that sound?” “Princess? Sounds funny. It may take some getting used to, but I’m willing to try. How about I call you… um… darling man, how does that sound?” “That’s perfect Litt… I mean Princess.” “We need to board up windows. We don’t want the tribe to see us in here George.” “If this place is as you say, spirit filled won’t your tribe be afraid to come here?” “They are afraid to come inside that doesn’t stop them from shooting arrows at us.”

The two began searching for boards to put over the windows when they found that right below each window laid a board big enough to cover each window. “Looks like whoever lived here had the same idea about the windows that you did Princess.” “No one has lived here for many moons. Some say no one ever lived here, that just the dead live here. Some say they come out at night to scare away others.” “And you think this is a good place to stay Little Eagle?” “Very good place to stay, for the night anyway. Tomorrow we’ll get out of here before daybreak. We can escape my father’s wrath if were out of here before they get near the house.” “Aren’t you scared of the spirits that supposedly come out at night?” “The spirits that come out are Indian spirits. They don’t bother Indian’s only white man. You need not to worry. They don’t hurt white men if they are with Indian’s. I don’t why. Might be that they know that Indian’s will take care of white man eventually. We need to get rest, tomorrow will come quickly. Darling George, you and I need to be prepared for anything. They settled in for the night with no other problems. All the while George is hoping that his new love is right about white men with Indian’s in this place. He knew that if other Indians caught the two of them he’d be the first killed, a prospect that didn’t sit well with him. As they established a safe place in the house, they became amorous as the night progressed. Soon they were as one with each other sharing each other’s unique tendencies and the joy of being as close as two people could be without melding into one person. As night seemed to glide into day Little Eagle’s thoughts about how soon the morning would enter their lives proved to be accurate. While the sun rose over the horizon George awoke slowly his vision fell upon Little Eagle asleep in his arms. Her burnt umber skin tone seemed to radiate in the morning sun. Her skin felt softer than he ed the night before. Her face looked so happy and peaceful that George wondered just how he and Little Eagle were going to make a life together. There is no way that he would be accepted in the army after he had deserted. No way that a normal life, as say a farmer, would be possible with an

Indian woman as his bride. George began to think of where the two of them could go that would allow their existence peacefully among the other settlers in the town. Then it came to him as if a load of bricks fell onto his head—Bonestown! He’d heard of a town in the northern part of Arizona that contained unusual people: very accepting of new people, especially people that weren’t welcome in other towns. The only problem with Bonestown is that it is at least a hundred miles away from where George and Little Eagle are right now. It would take days to get there by wagon even longer by horse, neither of which they had. But George had a strong feeling that Bonestown would be the best place for them. A few minutes later Little Eagle woke up, turned over, saw George then put her arms around him while her lips touched his in a very sweet, loving kiss. “Last night was very good George. I’ve chosen a very good man to live my life with. But now we must leave before the tribe shows up.” “Little Eagle I know of a place where we could go that the two of us would be accepted and we could live our lives happily.” “Where is this place you speak of darling George?” “It’s a small town to the north called Bonestown and I… “What’s the matter Princess?” “Bonestown is an Indian place. One of death and spirits that roam the town looking for white men to kill. You want to go there?” “Spirit’s in Bonestown? I’ve never heard of that, I’ve only heard of the young family that started the town and that all people are welcome to help them build the town. Where did you hear about ghost… spirits?” “Indian’s know of Indian spirits. That is an Indian place, are you sure you want to go there? It may be hard for you there. Are you sure darling George?” “Little Eagle whatever is there I can handle it as long as you are with me.” Little Eagle felt tears slowly coming out of her eyes as she quickly wiped them away. “Okay darling George we go to Bonestown. But we’ll need horses and a wagon. They will be hard to find and still escape my father’s will and the tribe.”

“Little Eagle we’ve escaped your tribe and your father so far, with your knowledge of the land around here, I doubt that they’ll catch up to us anytime soon.” “Darling George who do you think taught me the ways of the forest?” “Your… your father of course.” “Yes, and he’ll be on us before you know it so we’ve got to get moving.” Little Eagle with George hand in hand head out of the house in the direction they believed would be north. Little Eagle is very cautious when it comes to clearings and open spaces. She knows how tricky her father can be especially with him being a medicine man he can also create unusual, scary things just to torment the white man. Little Eagle is positive that her relationship with her father is gone shedding a small tear as she continues with darling George. Eventually they reach an opening in the woods that contains a trail leading into the nearby town of Grayer. She is sure that her father will probably be waiting for her at the entrance to the town; hidden behind some trees or brush in the area. They stop and Little Eagle saunters back and forth along the tree line as if trying to see down the trail into the town. “What is it? What’s the matter Princess?” “Nothing right now, but father is going to be waiting for us down this trail. I know my father. He has beaten me at games of deception too many times for me to fall into another trap.” “So what are you going to do?” “Right now thinking and planning. We haven’t seen my tribe or father in the past few hours which means they are probably near the town or have gone back to camp hoping I’ll return. This time father I’m in charge!” “Okay, you’re the one that knows this area and your people,” replied George, “But we have to do something. We can’t just sit here. What do you suggest we do?” “There is a river that runs from the woods here behind the town into a bigger river about a mile past the edge of town. I think we’d be safe going down that

river until we are near the town then get out behind one of the buildings in Grayer. My father would have never thought I’d take that route. My father thinks I’m deathly afraid of water. Ever since my mother died trying to save my brother from drowning while doing so she drowned, I’ve been afraid to go near the water ever since then. I thought the spirits of the water would take me too. But even though I’m still afraid I’m strong enough to handle anything that might come up. Father never realized that I’ve grown strong enough to handle that fear. That would be the best way for us to get by them, if they are waiting for us.” “Great! Let’s do it Princess!” “We’d better wait a little while longer, till the sun goes down a little more, then we’ll use the cover of trees to hide our way to the river.” Little Eagle secured a hiding place just far enough into the woods to be able to watch the trail without being seen from anyone on or near the trail. A few minutes later George saw two Indian’s riding toward town. The Indian’s stopped suddenly. Then slowly dismounted on the trail. George motioned to Little Eagle. She looked at them whispering to George, “They are Jumping Squirrel and Withering Bird, the two that are the worst warriors of the tribe. Father probably sent them on ahead to scout out the trail and the town. That’s about all their good for. They haven’t developed into warriors like the rest of the tribe that’s why their names are so weak.” George and Little Eagle watched laughing heartedly to themselves at the two Indian’s that are studying the trail. It seemed as though Jumping Squirrel was getting mad at Withering Bird, in the process tried to release his anger by stomping the ground with his feet creating a large dust cloud thereby adding validity to his name. Withering Bird started to shake as though his nerves couldn’t take being yelled at, got back on his horse heading for Grayer. Jumping Squirrel shook his head in disbelief at Withering Bird. Jumping on his horse he followed behind Withering Bird at a steady pace. George stood up as Little Eagle did the same while looking at the sky. “It looks like we can start to move toward the river. The sight of those two means that my father isn’t far behind, so we’d better get going before he spots us.” “Princess I was wondering, why do you think your father will come to Grayer? Aren’t there other towns that are closer that he’d think you’d hide in?”

“The only other town is Bonestown and you and I both know how far away that is. If my father is thinking the way I think he is, he’ll be here soon. He doesn’t send those two out far from himself or the tribe. They… they tend to get lost quite a bit.” The two runaways from the tribe hunch down quickly as they sneak toward the river. Trees are prominent in this area. All of them make a good barrier to being seen but Little Eagle began to worry about her father’s ability to spirits. She thought that maybe a spirit or two would reveal what they were doing. Her father had done that before when trying to devise a plan of attack on a wagon train. He asked the spirits to direct the chief of the tribe to a path of success in their attack consequently the attack confirmed the success of his abilities. But this time it would be to find his daughter. Spirits will help a tribe survive as long as possible but are hesitant to help families within a tribe solve their problems. Little Eagle knew her father wouldn’t last more than a year or two, if he took care of himself. However, she had the feeling that his powers were growing just as legend said. Soon he’d know where she hid by seeing her in his mind. Legend has it that medicine men can see things more clearly the closer they get to death. Her father was almost knocking on deaths door. No matter how she tried she couldn’t get the feeling that his mind’s eye watched her every move. By this time they’d reached the river. It flowed smooth at a rather fast clip. “This will work well,” said Little Eagle as she took off her moccasins. George replied, “This is beautiful! How long has this river been here?” “Don’t know ever since I was a little girl. My mother died just up the river by that broken tree trunk. I used to cry every time I saw that tree trunk but that was when I was little now… it’s just an old tree trunk… that’s all. We better get in before they catch up to us.” Little Eagle walked to the edge of the river dove at a semi-vertical line into the water. She reappeared seconds later brushing her long black hair back from her wet face. “Get in darling George we have to hurry!” George took off his shoes dove into the river and came up shivering. “You didn’t tell me it’d be this cold!” Little Eagle laughed as she started swimming up the river with George not far behind. About fifteen minutes into swimming Little Eagle saw a few floating branches in addition to the two Indian’s she’d seen earlier up the river near the edge of the bank. She swam over to one branch diving underneath it coming up on the opposite side, thereby hiding her existence to anyone on the bank. George followed her. “Sh,” she said, “And keep your head down. We don’t want those

guys to see us. Just hang onto the branch let it take us past them.” With two sets of eyes peering just above the top edge of the branches they swiftly floated past the two Indian’s without so much as a splash of water. They continued to hold on till Little Eagle recognized the back of one of the town’s buildings as the back of Dirty Sam and Dusty Jones’s saloon. “There see that building, that’s where we’ll get out and spend the night.” “See what Princess, I can barely see the branch I’m holding on to and could barely see those two Indian’s back there. It’s getting pretty dark out here.” “Don’t worry darling George I know this town so well I could walk it blindfolded and not hit anything.” They climb out of the river using their hands and knees over to the back of the saloon. “You know Princess, if anyone sees you here they’ll arrest you and throw you in jail.” “No one will see me. But you have to get me some white women clothes. That way they’ll be less chance of anyone knowing I’m an Indian. Little Eagle began taking of her clothes. “Here darling George use my clothes to get white woman clothes. If you run into anyone tell them that you found these out on the trail and that your wife is about the size of these clothes and you want to get your wife some new clothes. That should make it easy for them to get clothes that will fit me.” “But Princess I don’t have enough money to pay for clothes what am I supposed to do.” “Think!” replied Little Eagle as if hinting that she couldn’t think of everything. “Ah , . . okay but what if they ask me what happened to my wife?” “Think darling George-think!” George made a path toward lights that he thought were attached to the dry goods store hoping that they were still open. When he arrived at the store his wish didn’t materialize. The store had been closed. “They even put closed signs on the back door of buildings-what a strange town.” He thought as he gazed around. The place didn’t have anyone except for the people at the saloon, which stood about twenty feet from the edge of the store. George knew he couldn’t be seen, especially carrying clothes that belong to an Indian woman. He quietly ran to the

back of the store trying the back door. It was locked. The door had a window right above the doorknob with equal distance on both sides of it to the frame of the door. He wrapped Little Eagles clothes around his arm breaking the glass with a crackle sound that he knew would bring unwanted guests. Despite that he threw the clothes inside reached over the broken glass and unlocked the door. When he successfully made it inside he looked out of the window to see if anyone had heard his break-in-nothing. He turned back around as blackness filled his sight, a few seconds later his eyes adjusted to the dark. Now he could move within the store seeing vague images of shelves, boxes, and clothes. Not having a light to see would make it hard for him to find the right size clothes for Little Eagle. He did notice that another door, partially open, that led out of this stock into the retail part of the store stood about five feet in front of him. George walked over to the door quietly closing it. Now all he had to do was find a lantern to light then he’d be able to get some clothes that were close to Little Eagle’s size. His vision became more limited because of closing the door so he walked gingerly hoping to find a lantern before he tripped over something. The task at hand proved to be too much for George he wasn’t finding the right clothes plus he had a feeling he’d be discovered very soon. Then he got an idea, not a particularly bright idea, but one that might work. George had guessed that most of the clothes were laid on one shelf. If he could grab all the clothes carry them back to Little Eagle, then she could pick which ones would fit her. Only one thing stood in his way. There were a lot of clothes. In the dark he couldn’t tell if he were grabbing men’s or women’s clothes. Nothing better came to George’s mind as he stood contemplating what to do, so he started grabbing as many clothes as he could. Then another idea struck his conscious so hard he dropped all the clothes, “Wear em,” he thought. Wear as many of the clothes as he could put on then carry the rest. Although this may take some time George figured it would be worth it. By the time he finished he would have all the clothes. When he put the last of the clothes on he waddled like a drunken duck as he tried to make it to the back door. George couldn’t see very well so unfortunately he’d knocked things off other shelves as he tried to walk. The noise boomed loud enough to catch anyone’s attention that happened to be walking by or in the front of the store. George almost made it to the back door when it opened and Little Eagle ran in. Standing almost face-to-face with George she didn’t realize what exactly stood in front of her. She hunched down waiting for an attack. When her vision became clear she looked closer at the image in front of her thinking it had to be George. Laughter echoed throughout

the room. Reflexes kicked in as she covered her mouth. “What are you doing darling George?” she whispered. “I said just get clothes that match my clothes not all the clothes.” Her laughing continued, but in a subtle manner, as she started to take off some of the clothes that George had managed to assemble on his medium frame. “Did you really think you could walk out of here with all these clothes on you. What did you think would happen when you got to the backdoor? You’d have to take all of them off to get through the door.” “Oh… I hadn’t thought about that.” Little Eagle just smiled as she helped him take off the clothes. In the process she found an outfit that would fit her frame quickly putting it on. Now she looked more like a woman of the west, a settler, than a woman of Indian prominence. She liked the clothes she put on-they made her feel pretty. They felt good on her skin. The silk of the shirt plus the softness of the pants almost brought tears to her eyes. An Indian woman would never have such nice clothes as these. She wanted more of the good life that these clothes represented. “C’mon Princess, we’d better get out of here before someone sees us.” Little Eagle looked up into George’s eyes. He could tell what she had on her mind. “I know princess, I know. But we have to leave and soon.” Little Eagle slowly came out of her trance. They left the other clothes strewn on the floor as they gingerly left the storeroom part of the dry goods store going toward the stable where Little Eagle knew there’d be horses and maybe, if they were lucky, a wagon they could use. Slinking along the backside of buildings in the middle of the night wasn’t something that George had been used to. He stumbled over rocks and planks of wood that had been laid out back for use later on. The stable sat at the edge of the town approximately thirty feet away from the sheriff’s office. When George saw that the building next to the stable had bars on the back windows he knew instinctively that it had to be a jail or a sheriff’s office and jail. He stopped squinting above one window while looking through the bars to see if the sheriff was there or if anyone occupied the cells. From the looks of it there hadn’t been anyone in there in months maybe even a year or more. Dust covered all three cells so thick that you couldn’t see the keyhole to unlock the cell door. Little Eagle pulled at George’s coat and whispered. “What are you doing? We

must find horses and maybe a wagon. Most of all we have to get out of this town before father gets here and kills us both!” “I know princess, I just wanted to see if the sheriff was around and if there were any prisoners in the cells.” “And what did you find darling George?” “Nothing! Not a damn thing but dust and more dust.” Little Eagle secured George’s hand pulling him toward the stable. She walked over to the back yanked on the knob to pull it open all the way. The creaking from the door aroused some horses, which made them, move and bray. George ran over to the horses and managed to calm them down. “You have a way with horses darling George.” “They like me. It’s always been that way.” George walked to other horses while Little Eagle managed to find a lantern. “Darling George do you know how to light this?” George turned around, “Yes, if there is a match around here somewhere. Otherwise we rub two sticks together, that’s the hard way.” Little Eagle didn’t know much about the workings of lanterns but did know what a match looked like and how to use one, evidence of being around soldiers that were prisoners of her tribe. George searched for saddles then explored the area for a wagon About this time Little Eagle yelled to George, “I found match. Come look darling George.” George ran, as best he could in the dark to Little Eagle. She gave the match to George and he examined it. “Huh one match that’s all… um… I hope this works. Where’s the lantern princess?” She lifted it up in front of George’s face. He grabbed it from her then lifted the glass bulb. George scratched the match on his pants, viola, it lit fast. Now the stable erupted with subtle light. George and Little Eagle could easily find what they needed thanks to the lantern. The stable had seven pens where seven horses were kept. In one corner of the stable they saw their escape vehicle: a worn out black hearse. George shivered when the lantern light lit up the glass covered coffin area of the hearse. “What kind of wagon is that darling George?” “It’s… it’s not a wagon. It’s a hearse.” “Hear… hearse, what is hearse?”

“It’s a fancy wagon that dead people are put in and carried to their resting place. It would be a perfect thing to use for us to escape in.” “You… you think we should ride in a thing that carries dead bodies? Spirits of the bodies would get inside us and eat us from the inside out!” “Where did you hear that princess? That would never happen! Besides even if that were true, there aren’t any bodies in the hearse anyway. Look see!” George shinned the light of the lantern in front of the glass sided body of the hearse as he walked around it. “It’s safe no one would stop a hearse leaving a stable in the middle of the night would they?” “I don’t want to fight out darling George. We should just get some horses and get out of here. That… that black hearse thing… its… its scaring me! I know spirits, bad spirits, are in there, I know they wouldn’t want an Indian woman riding on it—I know it darling George. I know it!” “Okay Little Eagle I’ll handle the hearse, you get some horses to hitch up to it and I’ll get them hitched up. You can find another horse for yourself. How does that sound Princess?” “Much better than a Indian riding on a spirit cage.” George brushed off some hay with dust that had accumulated on the hearse then tried to open the back door in order to see if they could use it for supplies. There were curtains tied up at the edge of each window. George climbed into the hearse and undid each fastened curtain. “Now no one will question us,” he said as he climbed out of the hearse. Little Eagle had brought over two horses that looked to be the strongest for the hearse plus one palomino horse for herself in addition she secured a silky black horse for George. “Darling George you take black horse for you. I take palomino for me. The other two are for hearse. You should tie the black horse to the back of the hearse.” George agreed with Little Eagle’s suggestions. Between the two of them they were ready to go in minutes. Little Eagle unlatched the front door taking a quick look around. “No one on street tonight.” She yelled back to George. “Bring hearse out front. Be careful not to make too much noise. May wake up someone.” Little Eagle mounted her horse. George had already found his spot on the hearse. He began maneuvering it forward out of the stable. When everything sat outside the stable they aligned up together speedily getting out of town. Some people

that had just come out of the saloon saw what looked like dust coming from the edge of town. But with it being dark as midnight around Grayer they couldn’t really tell what they saw. It could have been a dust devil twirling through the brush or cacti that bordered Grayer being struck by all the dust. The residents of Grayer that had walked from the saloon onto the main street of Grayer studied what they saw for a few seconds then went on with their plans for the night. George and Little Eagle had made good their escape as the couple headed off toward Bonestown to live out the rest of their lives. In Arizona especially around Grayer people don’t read much. A town newspaper started about two years after George and Little Eagle left town. The editor/owner of the paper (Charles Flip) had heard about a man that had an Indian woman with him that stole horses with a hearse that left town without being seen. The brazen act of having an Indian woman as your companion was bad enough, but to also steal horses and above all the town hearse was too much for the townsfolk to bear. The editor decided that he wanted to tell the story of the two but had a hard time finding anyone who saw them or knew exactly what happened that night. The editor tried for weeks to get the story of the two robbers of Grayer but didn’t succeed. He’d about given up hope when a stranger rode into town. Charles saw the man come into the bar as he drank his fifth shot of whisky, although his ears weren’t necessarily big, he did overheard him talking to the bartender about a white man with an Indian woman that had settled in Bonestown. Charles stood up, well he tried to stand erect but didn’t quite have the steadiness he needed, and walked over to the stranger. “Say… partner, you said you’d seen a man and an Indian in Bonestown?” The stranger gave Charles a look of distain, “Yeah so what business is it of yours?” The bartender interrupted stating that Charles ran the town newspaper and had been trying to do a story on the white man with the Indian without much luck. The stranger saw that Charles had started to fall and grabbed him, dragged him over to a table and propped him up on a chair. The stranger motioned for the bartender to bring drinks over. A few seconds later the bartender showed up at the table with the drinks, as he bent down to put the drinks on the table, he happened to catch a glimpse of a badge on shirt of the stranger and saw that he had a shiny gold-plated gun in his holster. “You… you… some kind of lawman mister?” The stranger turned to look at the

bartender and said, “You could say that I guess. The name’s Doc, that’s all you need to know right now.” “So, are you a doctor or lawman?” “A little of both I guess. You best get back to the bar you’ve got some customers.” The bartender looked at the bar and scurried away “Tell me mister what’s your name?” said Doc as he gazed at Charles. “I… I’m Chest… no wait Charles Herr… Hearst, that’s it Charles Flip. You got some information for me on… on… that Indian and man… huh?” “Right now Chuck. You don’t mind if I call you chuck do you?” “Na… na…” “Okay Chuck I think you need to sleep it off before I can tell you anything you could print in your newspaper.” Doc looked out of the swinging front doors of the saloon. “I reckon it’s about noon. You better stay here and sleep off your drinking before you fall on your face. I’ll be here a few days. I can meet up with you tomorrow morning. Huh… I doubt if you’ll anything that happened this morning. But I’ll remind you tomorrow. With that said Charles’ head dropped onto the table and he began snoring. Doc. got up, went to the bar, paid for the drinks and told the bartender to tell Charles when he wakes up that he wanted to talk to him tomorrow if he’s able to understand what you tell him. The bartender smiled asking where Doc would be staying. Doc looked at him questioningly. “Why the Grayer hotel that is the only place to stay here right?” The bartender said, “Ah… yes, I… I just didn’t know if you were camping out near town or staying here that’s all.” Doc gave him a look like, “You’re up to something aren’t you,” and sauntered out of the bar. The next day Doc walked into the bar and met Charles again. This time however, Charles wasn’t the drunken bum he met the night before but stone cold sober and eager to find the story he’d been looking to publish for so long.

“Hi there Chuck how you feeling partner?” “Not to well, my head is killing me. The bartender said you wanted to talk to me.” “You don’t anything that happened yesterday do you Chuck?” “Hell, right now I’m lucky if I can my name. What did you want to talk about?” “Huh, since you can’t yesterday I’ll tell you my name first. Ah… for the time being just call me doc, Okay? The bartender said you were trying to find out about a man and an Indian that robbed the stable of horses and a hearse is that right?” “Oh you bet it is. You know about them?” “Well let’s just say I’ve run into them a few times. They are legally married now. They have a ranch just outside of Bonestown near the Ayers family. You probably don’t know them. They… ah… shouldn’t you be writing this down?” “Huh, oh yeah.” Charles pulled out a new note pad and pencil from his shirt pocket. Doc went on to say that the families name was Eagle. George and Mary Eagle. “The woman was definitely Indian and the man said he’d been in the army for a short time. I wondered why he’d married an Indian woman when there are so many white women that would love to be married.” Doc motioned for another shot of whisky and when it came downed it without blinking an eye, then continued telling his story. I know all this because I was the sheriff there for a while well until I saw that burned down house and then… well… I hate to it this but there are ghosts in and around Bonestown, They ain’t afraid of anything! I know this because I saw one of em one night when I went looking for a young boy that disappeared a day earlier. That… that… damn ghost came right out of the ground and through my body. The chill that he left in me I still feel on a warm summer night. To get back to the Eagle family they are a strange bunch. The children named Robert and Feather were always into something. It’s strange George and Mary, I doubt that Mary his her given name, look to be in there forties, but their children are almost as old as they are—strange. Anyway last year Mary was elected Mayor of Bonestown. That’s when I left and started

traveling around the country. I’ve heard that at times George and Mary start to age very fast, almost like there gonna die any minute, then they go up to that old burned out house come back a few days later looking just as young as they did when they first moved there. Some people say they are older than they look. That they are kept alive by spirits that haunt that old ruin. So, Charles that’s what I know what do you think?” “Wow that certainly is interesting, but what about the hearse what happened to it?” “Oh yeah the hearse. Well they use that for their business, their undertaking business. They’ve been carrying the dead for a long time. Who knows what they’ve discovered. Only thing I know is that no one-I mean no one-should go to Bonestown! Not now! Not Ever! Too many strange things happen there.” Charles wrote the story doc had given him and published it in the Grayer Press fifteenth week edition then distributed it to all the townsfolk. That started the official beginning of Flip Publishing. It lasted about fifty years. Its last paper was a recount of what had happened to the Eagle family since the first story was written. The Eagle family story hadn’t been news worthy enough for front-page material, as the first story was, so it was on the twentieth page next to ads about how to make your crops produce more food. The last story of the Eagle family was short and the gist of it could be summed up in a short paragraph.

The Eagle family of Bonestown, Arizona by Charles Flip

When first we visited this family they had two children Robert and Feather.

Robert has since gone on to be governor of the great state of Arizona, and Feather went on to marry a land baron by the name of Whitlock Ayers and started a family in the Bonestown. Unfortunately George Eagle died in an Indian raid on Bonestown in eighteen-seventy-five. Mary Eagle remarried shortly thereafter to a man that had just started his own business: Clifton Street’s Dry Goods Store. This is what has happened to the Eagle family to this date. What happens to the surviving of the Eagle clan remains to be seen. However, one mystery has never been solved: why did George and Mary keep looking so young and keep going back to the burned out house. This editor has no clue why they went back and forth to the house although one might guess it had something to do with why they kept looking so young. What you decide is up to you. Rest well George and Mary Eagle, Rest well.

Chapter 19

“Bonestown Land and Indians”

As of two-thousand-and-ten, the only land that’s left to buy is the Indian Reservation land that borders Bonestown. My name is Mark Street I’m the Sheriff in these parts. I want to own this town and all the land that surrounds it for the non-Indian-run-Casino I plan to build in five years. The only logical thing to do is buy the Indian Reservation land. Trying to buy this land is like trying to find a needle in a haystack. I know most of the business people in Bonestown plus most of the city officials, but it’s different when you’re dealing with the reservation. They desperately want at least one casino on their land, run buy Indians, by the end of the next decade. However, Bonestown, Arizona is not a sprawling metropolis. There are barely enough natives here to handle the businesses we have now, much less a huge casino. This is the reason I’m trying so hard to create a non-Indian-run-Casino. If I succeed any additional personnel I’ll need to run the place I can get from the nearby town of Saguaro Hills. Their casino has been abandoned for years. Most of the townsfolk have left for greener pastures. But, there are enough families left that know the operations of a casino that I could use for my new casino. My plan had been to become better friends with the of the tribal council to see if I can find a way to influence their will thereby succeeding in obtaining this land. That’s when all the trouble started. When you’re living in a town with a small population everyone knows everyone else. Word gets around if you try to be sneaky about business dealings—nothing illegal mind you-just using the loopholes of the law effectively. In fact there is a law in this town that if a man rides a horse down main street after five P.M. he can be fined $100.00 and thrown in the county jail for five days. That law is over a hundred years old-still on the books. Of course I never enforce it? When the founding couple of Bonestown wrote the town charter they included something very odd in the documents. To this day I have no idea why it was and still is on the books. In the eighteen hundreds there was a man by the name of Horace

Hammmersmith Jones who loved the ladies; I mean really loved the ladies. According to the elder men of Bonestown at that time, along with some very worn, strange newspapers of the time, Horace Jones had an ongoing serious relationship despite his other female companions, with Matilda Witherspoon of the Witherspoon Dry Goods store. Their relationship had its ups and downsmostly downs, but during one rather violent fight, Horace stormed out of Matilda’s room and left town. Five years later Horace returned. Since Horace left her she steadily went down hill. Now she had become the town drunk, prostitute gaining the name “good time” girl. Sheriff John Rathsbone III the sheriff of Bonestown at the time didn’t get along with Horace. After all, the Sheriff is supposed to prevent people like Horace from harassing the ladies of the town. But somehow, when it came to Horace, Sheriff John just couldn’t seem to thwart his activities. The large town clock had just struck midnight on a cold strangely bright night. Matilda had just left the town saloon to visit her constant midnight companionSheriff John Rathsbone III. Since Horace left Matilda, Sheriff John and Matilda had become very close. Her usual activity around midnight each night consisted of strolling across the street from the saloon to the hotel wearing her usual torn red dress with a foul smelling blouse-loosely draped across her half naked chest. She would stop in the middle of the street looking toward the edge of town. Nothing unusual about that, she had been doing that every night since Horace left. This time however, things were quite different. The street lay deserted. When Matilda heard the organ in the saloon stop while the noise from the patrons in the bar suddenly cease, she began to get chills. She turned toward the saloon strolling back inside. The saloon stood empty. She walked or rather stumbled over chairs and tables until she reached the bar. On top of the bar stood a half empty bottle of whiskey. She grabbed it downing it in one swift action. As she held the empty bottle, she turned back toward the swinging doors she’d just come through and dropped the bottle, then fell with a loud thump on the saloon floor-dead. Twenty minutes later the Sheriff came into the saloon looking for Matilda. When he ed through the swinging doors he saw her. But she wasn’t on the floor. Horace was carrying her over his shoulder. Acting as he’d been trained to do the Sheriff told Horace to stop-nothing happened. He then drew his gun firing at Horace hitting him several times in the chest as well as several times in the heart. Bullets had no effect. In fact they seem to annoy Horace. The Sheriff drew his

other gun from the left side of his holster and fired into Horace’s head. That worked. Horace fell down, as did Matilda. Horace ended up on top of Matilda as blood cascaded from all his wounds. Sheriff John knew he couldn’t lift Horace off of Matilda by himself so he ran back to his office to wake his deputy—Sam Rideen. Sam and Sheriff John hurried back to the saloon. As they walked into the saloon they saw something that instantly stopped the Sheriff’s heart from pumping. Horace had risen holding Matilda in his arms. One thing stood out about Horace. Since the Sheriff had pummeled Horace’s head with lead, when Horace stood up, his face slowly fell off-piece by piece. Then Horace’s skull, still dripping with blood turned toward Sam. Sam bolted as fast as he could out of the saloon and out of town, never to return. That is why “now” there is a town ordinance that no woman is allowed out at night, especially at midnight, without the Sheriff or the deputy to escort her on her way. No one ever found out what happened to Horace in those five years he was away from Bonestown, but Indian legend has it that he died in a war and it was Horace’s ghost that came that night for Matilda. And his reason for returning was to kill Matilda so that he and his girl would be together forever. You know it’s funny, that saloon stood in the exact spot just outside of town until fire destroyed it in nineteen-hundred-and-eighty-nine. Now there are a small bunch of evergreen trees bordering the spot where the saloon once stood. The “normal forest” is about one hundred feet behind to both sides of this odd bunch of trees. The Indian’s say that because of what happened at the saloon back in eighteen-hundred-and-ninety-five, the spirits have somehow managed to prevent anything from growing in that spot except for that strange grouping of trees. I call them strange because they look-from a distance-like normal evergreen trees. But, as you get closer to them you discover that looks can be deceiving. From time-to-time, in certain years, if anyone would walk through this small patch of trees, they would see what appears to be sap oozing from the trunk of each tree. Upon closer investigation the sap would look, feel, and smell like blood. Some people say that those conditions occur because of certain weather along with climate abnormalities that only occur in Silver Creek. The Indian’s however have a different perspective. They say that the “so-called” sap/blood is real blood, the blood of Horace and Matilda that keeps re-appearing to remind the people of Bonestown that, “Only true spirits can create true horror.”

Our town has had its share of unthinkable deeds. Any town that’s been in existence for more than one hundred years will always be some things that aren’t… well aren’t quite right. One of those things was the current Ayers family. An odd bunch of counterparts made up this dysfunctional unit. Randolph Ayers, the father, wasn’t one to be dealt with in an uneasy or threatening tone. Prematurely gray strands streaked his otherwise dark black hair. Waddling like a drunken duck revealed his gate also if anyone dared laugh or snicker, they’d find themselves snuggled into to a coffin by morning. Years of heat and rough days shown incessantly on his weathered face as age kept seeping through his wrinkles. The only attribute to his soul has, and always would be his wife; Spasm Quints. Spasm received her name through the continual acts of sudden fainting and jerking spells that permeated her early life. Her devotion to Randolph had been tireless. Even with the height of a ten hands high horse as her measurement of growth, she still could out shoot or out run any unspeakable man desiring her fruits. Between the two of then they produced five children; Andrew, Sophie, James, Davey, Arian and Samuel. Most of the family oddly enough, turned out to be quite normal; normal for the time and place of their respective births that is. The whole Ayers clan had one desire—land—lots of it. Randolph had made is fortune by taking land and homes from homesteaders that weren’t making ends meet. His favorite saying was, “Do what you have to, and I’ll do what I have to, to you.” During his early years of accumulating his fortune Randolph decided that no one would stop him in his quest to become the richest man in Silver Creek by the time he reached forty years of life. He succeeded at his goal. The price was high. Hundreds of lives had succumbed to his wishes; destruction of private property had been his reputation. It is written in the town logs of the day that on one particularly hot August day Randolph had just downed more than his share of whisky then went looking for a fight. He soon found his target. A newcomer to town, Jed Street, had ridden in from his ranch, a ranch that Randolph had tried to take earlier that week and didn’t succeed. Randolph caught a glimpse of the newcomer walking past the saloon. Randolph turned stumbled outside hunting for Jed. “Hey… you… ya… son of a donkeys ass… get your ass over here, so I can kill ya dead… ya hear boy.” Jed knew who’s fumbled words they were before he turned around. He knew that he couldn’t outdraw Ayers, even in his dreams. In this town there are plenty of old run down buildings abandoned by previous victims of Randolph’s wants. Jed

had just come up to one of those buildings; “Prickly Pearson’s Dry Goods Store.” On the boardwalk in front of him lay an aged, ripped piece of burnt timber, just small enough to grab. Jed had a reputation in other towns for his skill throwing knives and axes, thoughts of using that torn piece of lumber seeped their way into his conscious mind. “This would have to be fast and good,” he thought. “I can’t miss or that asshole will kill me for sure.” “Hey… you… donkeys ass… didn’t ya hear me? I want to kill ya dead… you gonna oblige me or not boy.” Jed, going against his better judgment bent down grabbed the wooden plank just as he heard and felt the breeze of bullet after bullet whistle by his head. He twirled around, still in a bent position, throwing the board effortlessly at Randolph. Randolph—stunned by his foe’s actions—began to step back as the jagged edges on the wood cut past his shirt, jabbing his skin in multiple areas before coming to rest half in and half out of his shoulder, just above his heart. “Damn boy… you got guts all say that for ya. But your guts ain’t gonna stop me from killing your sorry ass!” Randolph began pulling on the board that had hampered him. Moments later the board lay in his hand as he threw it to the ground taking a handkerchief from his pocket to stop the bleeding. Blood kept pouring out of his wound. Dizziness kicked in. Soon afterward Randolph lay face down on the boardwalk while blood gushed out of his wound. Jed took off down the street as a crowd gathered around Randolph. He tried to stand but his conscious wouldn’t allow that seconds later he had moved to his knees then fell backward. The sheriff had heard the commotion and came running. “Well all be a son of a monkey,” said Sheriff Dan Walber, as he knelt down to get a better look at Randolph. “Who did this?” he asked. The crowd stood silent. Tommy Caitlan spoke first, “It… it was that new guy. Jed… Jed… something.” “You mean Jed Street?” asked the sheriff. “Yeah… that’s the guy. It was something sheriff I saw the whole thing. Ayers was trying to kill him. He kept firing around after around at Jed. He must have been so drunk he couldn’t shoot straight. Every shot came close to Jed but missed. Then Jed threw that piece of wood there and nailed Ayers in the chest. It was the damnest thing I’d ever seen! You gonna arrest Jed sheriff?

“Hell… arrest him? I ought to give him a metal. You know how long we’ve been waiting for something like this to happen? Huh… ol’ Ayers don’t look so good. Too bad Ayers, too bad docs out of town. Too bad for you!” The sheriff looked around asking Jake, John and Bill, three of the remaining townsfolk that witnessed Randolph’s death to help him carry Randolph’s body the undertaker’s shop. They grabbed Ayers and dragged him across the boardwalk in front of the saloon past the Glendale’s Boarding House through the alley up to Sam “Deadend” Jones’ shop. “Okay fellas I can handle him from here.” said Dan. “Get back and clean up that mess in front of the saloon. “Sure thing sheriff,” said Jake Meyers. “You sure you can handle him by yourself?” “Huh… what do you guys think he’s gonna do, jump up and cut my throat?” “Hey,” said John. “There’s something strange about that guy. I wouldn’t doubt that he could do just that. You sure you don’t need help sheriff?” “Guys, I’m fine! Go back and do what I told ya to, or I’ll arrest you for preventing me from doing my job!” The sheriff gave a whimsical smile motioning for them to go back to the saloon. The group of three reluctantly turned then ambled away. Sheriff Walber pushed Ayers up against the side of the shop; blood still curved down Ayers chest onto the pure brown earth. Dan knocked on the warm, stiff door numerous times but no one answered his call. “Aw… hell,” Dan said, as he kicked Ayers in the side. He started to go back to his office when he heard the crick, creek, of the door opening slowly. “That you sheriff,” came a voice that could only be deadend’s. Dan swirled back around. “Where the hell you been deadend? I’ve been pounding on that door forever.” “Sorry about that sheriff. I was just taken care of another stiff in the back and well… you know I love my work, and didn’t hear ya till I came back in the parlor to get some more embalming fluid. Come on in Dan. Oh… bring your friend with ya. Wait… wait a minute. That’s not who I think it is, is it?” “Yep… it’s old Ayers all right. Appears he’s been stabbed by a piece of wood don’t it?”

“Yeah… I’d say that. Who’s the cowpoke that did this? You ought to give’em a medal, or at least make em a deputy.” “I think, from what I’ve heard that Jed Street did the deed that ended Ayers life.” “Really sheriff… Jed did this?” I can hardly believe that. Jed… Jed Street did this? Why he don’t have the guts for something like this. You sure it was him? “Far as I can tell. C’mon deadend help me get em in your shop, I don’t like looking at dead people, especially one like Ayers—gives me the chills… ya know.” Deadend shook his head while the two of them started to pull Ayers into the shop. They didn’t get very far when Dan felt something soar past his head chipping part of his right ear in the process. “Damn it!” yelled Dan as he dropped Ayers then grabbed his ear. “What the… ,” said Deadend, as he too dropped Ayers and felt the sting of something sharp penetrating his left ear coming to rest in the wall just behind him. Deadend and the sheriff looked at the glistening metal and wood carved object that now stuck halfway in and out of the wooden wall. They both recognized what it had hit the wall and jumped to the floor. Dan pulled his gun from his holster so fast that it made a slight whistle as it came to a stop just in front of Dan’s head. “You alright deadend?” “Yeah… I’m fine. You reckon it’s those Indians?” “I don’t know, but I ain’t taking any chances. You got a back way outta here don’t ya?” “Ah… yeah, but you won’t like it.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “It’s on the other side of the embalming room. You know the door leading to the alley.” “Shit! I’d forgotten about that. Can’t worry about that now. Whoever threw that tomahawk is sure to be waiting for us out front.”

“Wait sheriff… won’t they’ll be waiting out back too. Ya know those Indians aren’t stupid.” “Damn it! You’re right. How the hell are we supposed to get outta here?” “Follow me Dan. I’ve got just the thing for an escape. The two crawled on the floor still looking through the windows periodically for any Indians that may be waiting outside for some new scalps. Deadend had been working on his shop managing somehow to create a small hole beneath the floor. It wasn’t very big just enough for two—fortunately. Deadend grabbed a rope tied to a floor door and opened it. “There sheriff. There’s our way out. Dan looked down at the hole deadend had dug. “What in the Sam hill is that?” “It’s my… I guess you could call it a waiting area for the dead I haven’t gotten to yet. I thought I’d dig this hole in case I got too busy. You know the way things have been going around here I needed extra room, so this hole came to mind. I could just throw the dead I’m not working on right down this hole. Then when I got free I could bring them out to work on em.” “You sure you’re not bent in the head deadend? This is strange, even for you.” Just then another swift breeze sailed past their heads as another tomahawk deposited itself in the wall behind them. Dan jumped into the hole with deadend following close behind. The two snuggled into the hole. Deadend grabbed a rope tied to the bottom of the door closing it on top of them. “You sure they won’t spot us here deadend?” “Nope.” “What the hell? What do you mean nope?” “I can’t say what they’ll do, but at least for the time being, I don’t think they can’t find us.” Creaking boards plus footsteps stopped all talk by the two undead lying in a hole just out of sight of the three Indians that were now in deadend’s shop. The sheriff

with deadend behind him could only listen as they heard scuffling then words being exchanged between the three Indians. They heard what sounded like the three were dragging something out of the shop. Dan didn’t dare open the door. There is too much death in this shop and two more bodies is not something that is welcome. They waited for at least an hour, or as close as they could imagine an hour would be, then Dan slowly, gingerly pushed up the door. Both of them climbed out as a surprise greeted their eyes. They were shocked by what they saw… or what they didn’t see. Randolph Ayers body had been taken by the Indian’s. There appeared to be a blood trail on the wood that led out the front door. Dan knew that any trace of the Indians would have been blown away by the winds that come this time of day in Bonestown. “Why in the name of everything holy would they take Ayers—dead Ayers?” asked Dan examining the bloodstains in addition to some of the footprints left just inside deadend’s shop. “Maybe they wanted another scalp?” asked Deadend. “Scalp? Those Indians don’t come into town looking for dead people to take their scalp. They want fresh scalps. And if they did want Ayers scalp why didn’t they just scalp him here instead of lugging around a dead body? It makes no sense deadend… none whatever.” “You may be right sheriff, but what are you gonna do now? Chase after em? You know they’ll be expecting something like that. You’d be riding right into their hands. You ready for that sheriff? “Hell deadend, right now I can handle anything. Right now I want that body back. I want to see Ayers dead body buried by me-not by Indians!” The Sheriff ran out of deadend’s shop back to his office. He slammed the door as he entered his office waking his deputy Sam Kindose, who had fallen asleep again at the sheriffs desk as usual for this time of day. “Get your horse saddled up Sam we’ve got Indians to catch!” “Indian’s sheriff? What happened? I didn’t see any Indians in town. “Yeah… you never would. If these Indians are who I think they are they’re very clever. Always hide in the shadows. But, no time for guesswork! They stole Randolph Ayers body right from deadend’s shop. I want it back!” “Ayers body sheriff? Why would they…”

“Don’t ask, just get off your duff and help me round up those Indians.” The sheriff and Sam mounted up then rode out of town just as deadend rounded the Sheriff’s office trying desperately to get the Sheriff’s attention, “Wait… wait sheriff I’ve got something you should see!” Deadend’s words fell just out of hearing range for Sam and the sheriff. “Gaul Darn it! Now they’ll never see this thing. Hell it might just save their lives.” In the right hand of deadend lay a tomahawk, a newly carved tomahawk with images of Sheriff Dan, Sam and the Indians. The sculpture wasn’t designed to elicit visions of happiness or prosperity for the future, as the normal tomahawks of the day had. This one had evil, hand carved evil created in its handle and head. The likeness pressed within the boundaries of the tomahawk showed the Indians scalping, then killing sheriff Dan and Sam. Probably the most frightening part of the tomahawk was not the images of scalping, but the fact that on the other side was a rendering of Deadend preparing the sheriff and Sam’s body for their funerals as blood from a scalping dripped down from Deadend’s head. Deadend brought the tomahawk up to view it again. He knew that this had to be someone’s idea of a joke. No one could have known what would happen that day with Ayers, Jed, Sheriff Dan and Deadend. So how could they have carved this tomahawk, he thought, unless this had been some elaborate joke. Could the Indians not be Indians but cowpokes dressed up as Indians. Could the taking of Ayers body man that they wanted to get rid of Ayers in a more undignified way then to have a funeral. This was the essence of what Deadend was thinking. “It had to be a joke. This was too strange to be real—right?” said Deadend, under his breath as he slowly shuffled back to his shop. The Sheriff with Sam beside him rode for about two hours then realized that they were in front of an Indian burial ground. Most people including Indians stay away from this area—there are too many unusual, scary things that happen around here. Indians know the spirits of their fallen protect this ground against all intrusions therefore they leave it alone. During one time of the year the Indians will gather outside the burial ground performing a ceremony loosely referred to by the townsfolk as, “Waking the dead for abundance.” The natural born citizens of this country would gather as many rocks as well as enough foliage as possible in order to position these items around the entire area of the burial ground. This activity can take anywhere from one to three days, depending on how many Indians are involved. It is a secret ceremony. Any white man caught watching this ritual will be killed, painfully killed. The Indians call

it, “The death ride.” A white man would be tied to a litter, which would be attached to a horse. The presiding chief of the ceremony would set the white man on fire, ride the horse through a cactus patch repeatedly until the chief knew the man had died. Then the chief with his followers would take the scarred, blackened body over to the entrance of the burial ground. Here they would lift the man upon a burning wooden cross. At this point all the Indians would gather around the cross as they pray to their gods that his soul be stripped and sent into the great sky to wander endlessly throughout time. Both the Sheriff along with Sam knew of this Indian ritual. The severity of their actions might guarantee their time on the cross should they try to go through the burial grounds. Something unnerving awakened their ears. Most folks not familiar with Indians and their way of communicating with each other would think they just heard a few birds singing nearby. That is not the case with any area around Bonestown. If you are a white man or woman, are outside of the town and hear what sounds like birds singing… well… let’s just say the chances of you making it back to town alive are slim, very slim. This is what the lawmen of the town were facing. Both headed for cover behind some large rocks bordering the Indian cemetery, pulled guns from their holsters as they waited. They scanned the area for any sign of impending danger. Nothing! “Damn it Sam!” said Sheriff Dan, “I don’t like this!” “You and me both Sheriff. What are we gonna do? We can’t outrun them Indians, how we gonna get away?” “There’s only one way Sam.” He pointed to the burial ground with his gun. “Oh C’mon Sheriff I know we want those Indians, but we now have other Indians to deal with. You think there gonna let us just ride in there, smooth as you please, without coming after us?” “Nope… definitely not. But you got any better ideas? Besides what better place to hide than a cemetery?” “You mean burial ground don’t you sheriff?” “Cemetery… burial ground, what’s the difference? It’s all just a place where the dead are buried. So what? The dead can’t hurt us.

“Nope the dead can’t sheriff, but Indians can, and there are a lot of them around here. I know, Once they trapped me in that grove of trees over there. You me telling you about that don’t ya?” “Of course Sam, but that was a year ago. I reckon most of those Indians are gone by now. You know they don’t stay very long in one place.” “Yeah… most of em don’t stay, but we haven’t been out here in over a year, you never know what could have happened. Hell, there could be hundreds of Indians around here—we don’t know what were going to run into if we go through their burial grounds. I got a very funny feeling about this Dan.” “Well Sam can you think of anther way? We gotta find out what those Indians were doing with Ayers. We both know the only way we know of to get to them is through that burial ground! Now, you with me or not?” “Oh… hell, I guess so. You better be right!” The burial ground lay about fifty feet away from their current location. Many bones of dead Indians bordered the entrance to the burial ground. It formed an arch about seven feet high on each side. The arch itself had been adorned with other skulls plus inscriptions on them that no white man understood. The two lawmen didn’t know and didn’t care about skulls or anything else on the entrance. Right now the only goal would be to find the Indians that stole Ayers body or Ayers body itself. Indian talk still whispered through the air as they began to develop a plan to get through the cemetery without stirring the wrath of the Indians they knew were nearby. Indians in the area are very sneaky. They have the ability to walk up behind you without making a sound. Before you realize it you’re dead or mortally wounded by a violent bloody scalping. It took about a half hour for the plan to come to fruition. When it did they were ready to implement their idea. Night would be the best time to slink through the burial ground. Any lawman would know this instinctively. However, so did the Indians besides they were hidden, waiting for just such an adventure by the two white men. Night has a way of creeping up on you in this spot. In the desert, when night covers day, a multitude of animals with other creatures forage for food. Some get lucky some get eaten, while others just survive for another day. The sounds these creatures make enable the desert to come alive with a vibrant dangerous

atmosphere. There are the usual insects besides the ugly, dangerous ones. Ones that no cowpoke wants to find in his makeshift bed when he wakes in the morning, if he hasn’t succumbed to the desires of the deadly ones during the night. Two of these creatures plagued the start of the two lawmen’s journey through what the dead call home. Finding a spot on the ground where the moon had managed to light it up like a town full of life proved easy. What didn’t come easy was a good plan. It took a while but finally they began sketching out their plan in the dirt. Neither of them bothered to examine the area they would use as a staging ground for their attack. Somehow venomous scorpions had made there way up both Dan and Sam’s boots as they bent down working out ideas to use to get past the burial ground. Concentration can lead to dangerous encounters of all types. Scorpions need shelter along with warmth at night as well as humans, only this time they’d find more than shelter. “Ow… what the hell?” yelled Dan, as he reached inside one of his boot’s. Not feeling anything with his hand, quickly he took his boot off and saw the scorpion scrambling out. “Damn it!” yelled Dan again while stomping the life out of the scorpion. “Shit!” yelled Sam feeling the sharp barb of the other scorpion in his ankle. He twirled around yanked his boot off while the insect fell aimlessly onto ground scurrying away under a rock. “Damn! Damn!” yelled Dan, “What else is going to happen out here? Did you see that Sam? That damn thing stung my leg—Damn it! “Yeah one of them got me too. Now what are we gonna do? Those things can kill a man and both of us were bitten. How we gonna survive out here while that poison is in us… huh? How sheriff? “Calm down Sam, take your bandana and wrap it around your leg just above the bite, that should stop the poison from getting any farther up your leg. Now were gonna have to move our plans up, we have to go now, or die here. What do you want to do Sam? “Hell… I sure don’t want to die from some bite. If I have to die, I’d rather it be in a fight. At least I’d have a chance in a fight.” “That’s what I hoped you’d say Sam. Let’s get outta here and after those Indians. The two wounded lawmen hobbled to their horses clumsily getting on then galloped toward the cemetery, all the while knowing their lives would end this

night. The burial ground, aside from Indians who were chosen to guard the grounds against unwanted attention, have a natural guardian or some folks say more than one guardian that protects the grounds when the Indians aren’t there. It is legend that spirits of the dead haunt the grounds. Although the Indians themselves have only spoken of their horrific deeds they still have an affect on anyone who es by. Stories range from a family—not familiar with this area of the country—happened to stumble upon the burial grounds, and the next day their bodies were found stripped and nailed to posts in the ground. The ants devoured most of their skin what was left was just enough to be recognizable as human bodies. In one instance a young couple had decided to ride out to the burial grounds for a night of fun with misguided adventures. They didn’t make it back to town. Their folks knew they liked the area near the burial grounds due to the fact that it was so lush and full of heavily leaved trees. They warned them not to get too close to the cemetery. Of course being young with the mentality that nothing could harm them they ignored their parent’s wishes. At that time Sheriff Dan had just been elected sheriff—this would be his first case. Had he not been toughened by years of hard work as a cowhand or rancher, he might not have made it past viewing their bodies when he found them three days later, but he had to push past what he felt to do his job. The young couple had made it to their favorite spot but as Dan studied their horse’s tracks he realized that they had left toward Devils Canyon. The canyon is not a place to be at any time of the day or night. Strange things happen in that canyon, Although the canyon is near the burial grounds if one ventured onto a certain cliff like region of the canyon they could overlook the burial grounds along with the Indians camp just beyond a small mountain ridge. It still is considered dangerous for any white man or woman to do so. Sheriff Dan knew this from past, personal experience. He was seventeen at the time with the dubious distinction of being the first one able to climb the cliffs to gain that vantage point. In those days he thought he was really something to be able to do what no other white man had done to that date. His excitement didn’t last long. Indians had spotted him while scouting the area. When they saw Dan he only had enough time to run down the backside of the cliffs, the more subdued and easier to maneuver part of the cliffs, as he snuck back to his horse. Dan didn’t know that the Indians knew this trick, had managed to find out where his horse stood and were waiting for him as he approached. Stunned while sweat profusely exited from almost every particle of skin on his body he stopped suddenly as the

Indians spotted him. Dan knew that this would end badly. The leader of the scouting team approached Dan while the other Indians surrounded him. He had no avenue of escape. He had resigned himself to the fact that this would be his death. Although he promised himself he wasn’t about to die without a fight when the leader spoke to him. “You… white man… like our canyon?” “Ah… I guess so,” said Dan, as he began to tense up—preparing for a fight. “We like canyon too white man. Only Indians allowed in canyon! Now you get outta here before we have new scalp to show chief—right? And you never come back or we come and get your scalp, then stake you to ground for ants to eat. You understand white man?” “Yeah… yeah sure. I’ll leave right now!” The leader gave Dan the reins to his horse telling the other Indians to follow him back to camp. Minutes later they were out of sight only the dust from their horse’s hoofs were all that could be seen. Dan galloped out of there never to return—until now. By now Dan had reached the entrance to Devils Canyon. “I don’t like this… not at all! This isn’t good,” said Dan as he scanned the cliffs of the canyon. The tracks led into the canyon, but the part Dan didn’t like was that there were now two other horses tracks alongside the couples. “I haven’t been here in years and nothing has changed—I don’t like that. It’s not right. At least there aren’t any Indians around, well at least none I can see. Why did they go out to the burial ground? They’ve been told before not to go out there—Damn it! Why?” Rustling from the bushes to the left side of Dan caught his attention. He pulled his gun pointing it down upon the movement. Seconds later Dan saw something he’d never forget. Clyde Spilike one half of the couple he’d been searching for. As Clyde brought himself into view Dan saw that he had been beaten badly. His legs had been cut off at the knee while one of his hands had been severed from his arm. Cuts on his face revealed what looked like knife wounds. Dan quickly dismounted and grabbed Clyde. Clyde’s last words were, “Get Sierra… my God

Dan… get Sierra… it’ll kill her… it.” “I… I will Clyde… I will.” Dan’s words fell on dead ears—Clyde had ed. For him his torment had ended. Now Sierra had to be rescued. Dan took some time to bury the body and say a prayer for his soul. “Dear Lord, please bless Clyde’s soul. He didn’t live long, but he didn’t deserve a death like this. I’ve known him for a few years, and although he had some bad points, he was still a good man. Lord, please take revenge on those Indians that have done this to him, as I will do the same. Thank Lord for taking the time to listen to me. Amen.” He didn’t want to take the time when Sierra’s life was at stake, but he didn’t want Clyde’s body to be food for the buzzards. One thing jabbed at his conscious, “What did Clyde mean when he said, “it’ll kill her?” Dan finished burying Clyde and remounted his horse. His thoughts were now of what kind of danger would Sierra be in. Could he save her in time? He gently kicked the sides of his horse riding off into Devils Canyon. The sight of this place is eerie at best. Very few people have had the guts to venture past the two-headed devil carved in the stones at the entrance. The few that did try never returned to Bonestown. Dan had dealt with Indians all his life which made him familiar with a lot of their quirks and more than a few of their constant desires; especially for white man’s scalps. But all of that took a second place to the mission at hand. Shadows emanating from low hanging rock protrusions on the cliffs inside Devils Canyon seemed to follow Dan as he hastily rode through the dusty unforgiving path that years of use had made hard. After riding for about a half hour he came upon a clearing where he saw five teepees with smoke twirling from the tip of their points. He knew by the symbols on the teepees that the Ahranpo tribe lived there. Also, that they could be watching him right now from some unseen gathering of rocks just high enough from the ground to prevent Dan from noticing as he rode by. Dan slowed down

maneuvered his horse behind some trees overlooking the camp. Riding into a camp alone with approximately fifteen Indians would be foolish. Dan wasn’t that foolish. The cliffs that overhang the trees made it hard for anyone to see the sheriff and his horse—a perfect hiding place. He knew that somehow he had to draw the Indians away from their camp. Sierra had to be in one of those teepees. Getting the Indians to leave seemed the best idea. Not all of the Indians would leave. Dan surmised that about three would be left to guard Sierra. Three isn’t bad. He’d dealt with as many as five at one time in the last few years, so three would be relatively easy to handle. Brushing off the dust that had accumulated on his chaps he managed to spot something sticking out from behind the trunk of a small tree. It looked familiar but not enough to be recognizable from his vantage point. As the wind picked up, as it does in this canyon, Dan sensed an aroma that had been all too present in the sheriff’s life to this point—the smell of rotting flesh. “Oh no! God I hope it’s not what I think. Oh Lord please not Sierra.” He walked toward the tree trunk looking around to get a better glimpse at what had caught his attention. Dan wasn’t squeamish by any means but what lay in the brambles just behind the tree made him throw up. It was Sierra’s leg. It had been cut off at the waist. By the jagged wound Dan knew she’d been in tremendous pain, as they must have cut her leg with a dull knife. It would have taken a long time to sever her leg. Sierra had a deformed knee. It was obvious that the leg had been hers. “Aw… Hell! Not you too Sierra.” Men are taught from birth that crying is not proper, but this time, all Dan could do was cry. It took a long time for Dan to get over the sight of Sierra’s leg in addition to the thought of her being alive when they cut it off. That was the Ahranpo way. They had an evil hatred for the white man or white woman. They loved to show it by the way they killed them. Picking up her leg Dan dug a shallow hole burying it. In strolling back toward his horse he again sensed something wasn’t right. Turning back around he decided that maybe the leg wasn’t the only part of Sierra that would be around here. His thoughts proved to be correct. Minutes later, in a weeded patch next to another tree, Dan found a head—Sierra’s head. The fear that covered her face shone through the weeds, as would a bright light in an eerily dark night. Dan knew he had to finish what he’d started. Within an hour he’d found the rest of her. He put the rest of her in another hole he dug. Dan wanted to place a marker on her grave, but knew the Indians would find it and rip it out of the ground.

A prayer was in order. “Dear Lord, please cover Sierra’s soul with your blessings. She only had a short time here, but she made a difference in everyone’s life. Sierra’s life had it’s up’s and downs, but she didn’t deserve to die like this. No one deserves to die like this! I promise you Lord if I ever get the chance, I will seek revenge on her behalf on the Indians that have made her death so horrible. Thank you for listening Lord. Amen.” The thought of galloping into the Indians camp tearing each one of those bastards limb by limb to death arrived at his conscious quickly being tossed aside as the reality of one man against fifteen Indians set in. Dan mounted his horse for the long ride back to town, when suddenly from every area of the surrounding rock-studded walls flew tomahawk after tomahawk in Dan’s direction. The odd thing about the sudden flurry of tomahawks is that Dan couldn’t see any Indians throwing the tomahawk’s they would have to be close for the tomahawk’s to reach him. He dismounted trying to reach cover before his life ended at the hands of the Indian’s. Turning around toward the direction of the tomahawks he saw something that sent shivers of fear throughout his body. Nothing, not the sight of Clyde, or the sight of Sierra’s body could have prepared him for this vision. As the tomahawks tumbled toward him, just missing him by inches, there appeared various faces. Not human faces, but faces of the dead emanating from the business end of the tomahawks and yelling, “Get out white man!” Get out!” Dan managed to “get out” as the head images had told him never to return or speak of the incident again until today. Now, he had to find two Indians. This venture may take him back into what he’d stayed away from for years. Just the thought of Devils Canyon and what he’d experienced there twenty-eight years ago sent shivers through his body. Even the pain of the scorpion sting couldn’t stop his thoughts. His mission had to be completed quickly. The sun faded into obscurity as its counterpart slowly took over the sky. Even though the scorpions were no longer present, the incessant pain left by their stinger continued to plague both Dan and Sam. As they approached the entrance to the burial ground their horses suddenly reared up.

Both lawmen fell heartedly on the dusty ground below. All Dan could see was the dust their horses made as they galloped out of sight, never to be seen again. “Well Sam… I guess we are on our own now. There’s no way were gonna catch those horses and by the time we did it’d be as dark as old man Staples mine yet twice as scary. I don’t want to be in that cemetery when it gets dark.” “Yep… don’t want no part of that!” said Sam, while adjusting himself as the realization of what lie ahead began to sink in. “We aren’t gonna make it out of here are we sheriff? After a pause that seemed as long as a winter’s night in Alaska, Dan confirmed the answer to Sam’s question. “Nope… this is our last stand so we’d better make it good.” Sam stood up uneasily as did Dan. They both gazed upon the entrance. Carefully they walked past the stone guardians on this site. Legend has it that no white man has ever set foot in the Indian burial ground and lived to tell about it. That legend held a prominent place in these two men’s minds right now. The thought of facing whatever would come their way stirred there conscious into hallucinations. “Ah… Damn fool bite!” yelled Dan as he reached down to scratch the itch that had been born by the venomous creatures attack on his leg. While scratching the wound he noticed that the area around it had become reddish-blue, not a good sign, not good at all. He knew that Sam would undoubtedly have the same condition on his leg-maybe worse. Dan surmised that he and Sam had about an hour before they wouldn’t be able to see or stand, shortly thereafter they would cease to exist. Dan pulled his gun then held it in front of him as though he were preparing to draw down on a villain. Sam saw this copying the sheriff’s action. “Now Sam, now is the time we’ll fight for every last bit of life we have. Now is the time we’ll see whatever it is that haunts this place. Now is the time our lives will end—I can feel it, can you? “Yep… I guess you could call it that sheriff.” “Good, then let’s give those Indians something to fight for. Let’s make them work for the two new scalps they’ll have.” “But sheriff… I… I don’t see any Indians.”

“There here Sam. There here, you just can’t see-em, but there here. Trust me I can feel their presence. They are watching every move we make. You’ll see-em too very soon. I know you will. I just hope we see them before they get a drop on us. I’d hate to die without a fight. Dan shrugged his shoulders as if something had crawled up under his shirt twitched his lips like someone trying to yell then feel face first on a grave just a few feet in front of him. “Sheriff… sheriff… you alright?” yelled Sam as he reached down turning the sheriff over. “Aw… shit!” Sam turned away from a half eaten face that used to be sheriff Dan. Sam only had himself to rely on now. He’d been left to fend for himself in this odd spot. Sam saw nothing. Nothing had attacked Dan, so how could he have died like that he thought. “Maybe everyone had been right about this place. It really is… .” He fell backward onto the road that led into the cemetery. He looked down at his chest noticing the feather ends of three arrows sticking out while his life poured out of each wound. Sam instinctively looked up. What he saw stunned him. He’d come face to face with a ghost, an Indian ghost that proceeded to cut Sam’s head off at his neck. But before the act that would end Sam’s life happened the ghost said these words. “Only a true tomahawk can create true horror.” This is how the story is told of what happened to Sam and Dan. Whether it is true or not can only be confirmed by the ghosts that inhabit the burial grounds and Devils Canyon-they aren’t talking.

Chapter 20

“The Easy Street Bar and Grill”

When you talk about the beginnings of the Indian Reservation and Bonestown, especially in the spring of two-thousand-and-twelve when there is a full moon, strange things happen. Legend has it that if you’re in the saloon looking out one of the window’s at exactly midnight you’ll see a headless Indian running through town chasing a soldier while firing arrow after arrow at him just missing him by inches. It is told that the Indian was killed by the solider. Now he’s come back for revenge but can’t get revenge until all the descendants of the solider are dead. There are legends like that in all small towns; this is what makes them special. Also, in small towns are unique buildings that attract people. In Bonestown, Arizona one such building is “The Easy Street Bar and Grill.” That’s were I’m headed right now. Jesse tends bar there and we’re going to meet and have our weekly beer-drinking contest. I call it a contest, but mostly it’s Jesse drinking more than everyone in the place. We also have a “strip beer drinking” contest, for singles, but that’s next month. The “Easy Street Bar and Grill” is definitely a clever name for a bar. Most people would think it would be named after “Easy Street.” But in this town, “The Easy Street Bar and Grill” is named after Orville Easy and Franklin Street who started the bar back in the late nineteen-fifty’s. It has been in operation ever since. It’s a family operation, so naturally Jesse is part of the family, the Easy family. Boy did he get kidded about that name growing up. It didn’t last long; Jesse learned how to defend himself. One guy, by the name of Winston Winslow; wouldn’t stop pestering Jesse. One day he pushed Jesse to far, and… well… let’s just say that Jesse just got back last year from spending a nickel at Silver Creek Penitentiary. As for myself, I’m from the Street side of the bar family. My name is Mark Street. Obviously this isn’t a big town. Or when Jesse ties one on he calls me “M.W.S.” I’ve grown up in this town so I know most of the people here. I see the

lights of the bar coming into view. “One of these days we’re going to have to pave the entrance to this place. The dust and rocks are going to ruin the finish on my cruiser. The red and yellow sign that beckons all who want to have a good time had just been cleaned and shown brightly against the darkness of the mountain night. The bulbs had burnt out on the E,Y,S and R, so the sign read; “AS TEET,” instead of “EASY STREET.” “I’m gonna have to fix that one of these days.” I pulled up in one of the unmarked parking stalls in front of the building, there weren’t many left but I did find one. We call them dirt-parking stalls. I got out and went inside. Jesse ran around behind the bar like a chicken with its head cut off. I waved at him. He saw me and waved back. About this time three of my good friends pulled down their pants mooning me while saying. “Kissy, kissy kissy.” Their crazy! I think all of them are about 1 can short of a six-pack. Larry, I think is the worst. He’s actually a very smart guy, the only one from town to get a college education, but you get a few beers in him and he acts like he just graduated from grade school for the tenth time. Orville, on the other hand didn’t have the opportunities that Larry had, but is a good, common sense man, well… most of the time. He never went to school but puts in a good twelve to thirteen hour day on his farm most every day. Orville owns a good-sized farm outside of town. He inherited it when his father died about a year ago. It’s a big spread about forty acres out by old man Whitman’s orchard. Then there’s Wilson. This guy will do anything for money. If “Fear Factor” had been around when he was growing up he’d have been on that show as often as he could. As these three throwbacks to childhood compose themselves, I walk over to the bar, sit down and when Jesse comes over I ask for my usual; a tall glass of cold orange juice-yep, orange juice. I used to drink beer, but as the years ed, my liver seemed to rebel at the taste of beer I’d be in tremendous pain every time I drank the stuff. So, now it’s the soft stuff. Looking around the old bar I can’t help but think about the times I’d sneak in here when I was young and Buddy, he’s gone now-been dead about ten years, bear got him on a fishing trip-would give me a shot of beer. Well, I thought it was beer. Come to find out later it was root beer, but hey I was only seven at the time what did I know? There is a lot of history associated with this bar. Out in back of the bar you can see the “White Bull” mountains. Those mountains are sacred to the Indians. Someone once told me that there is an Indian burial ground somewhere on those mountains and that

years ago, a stranger went looking for the burial ground, even though he was told by the Indian’s not to go there, that the area had been blessed and sacred. The guy didn’t listen and went anyway. About three weeks later one of the locals was out fishing at “Wide Bank” river and saw an object floating in the water. He was able to snag it with his fishing line then pulled it to his boat. When he saw what he had caught it made him sick to his stomach. It was a head. From what the coroner said, it was the head of a man about fifty years old, and looked to have been in the water for about a week. After doing some research, I discovered it had to be the head of the man who went looking for the burial ground three weeks earlier. Some say the spirit Gods of the burial ground sent the head as a message to anyone else not to go there or they will suffer the same fate. The mountains are very steep in that area. There are a lot of jagged rocks, any of them could have easily decapitated the man’s head from his body. Strange thing though, his body was never found; just his head. It seems like there has always been something about this town to keep people coming here… at least until recently. If you take a look off in the distance from the other side of the building, the east side, you can see a sign to the entrance of the “Aranpho Canyon.” That canyon has seen its share of people during the past twenty years. I call it the “Second Wonder of Arizona.” It’s not as big as the “Grand Canyon,” but it has it’s own beauty besides it’s own deadly secrets. Ten years ago we used to have dozens of people come up here from June to August. Other than the fact that it’s cooler up here in those months, it’s also a great time for tourists. The canyon has a beautiful lake at the bottom. A lake the Indians warn outsiders to stay away from. The Indians say the Spirit Gods watch over the lake only allowing the Indians to drink from it. Everyone here knows that it’s just a story the Indians tell to generate visitors to the canyon and nothing ever happens to any tourist. However, there is one exception to that statement. One day someone drank from the water at the bottom of the canyon. No one thought anything of it until a few days later when that person started to look younger. And within a week that woman, who was fifty-five at the time, looked like a woman in her twenties. So you can imagine what happened next. Word got out and people from all over the world came out here to taste the water from the “Canyon of Eternal Youth,” as some of the tourists began to call it. Things were going along great! We had a booming business going here. I was selling land hand over fist, even had to turn people

away because I just didn’t have enough land to sell. Then it happened. The hole fell out of the golden pie we’d been eating from for at least three years. All the people that drank from the water began feeling ill. Soon afterward their skin would start to shrink slowly falling off. It was a horrible sight. You’d be walking down the street and you’d literally see people’s skin peel off then fall to the ground, their blood followed their skin. Soon afterward, their bones would just… just disintegrate. Oh… and the smell… ick! It was horrible stuff. Of course, the doctors said it was some flesh eating bacteria in the water, but I never believed that, especially since the Indians have lived here for centuries and drank that water in the past, and still do today-nothing has happened to them. Ever since then the tourist business has dropped significantly. Across the street from the bar on the south side you can see the Ayers Building. Yep, the good old Ayers family bought that building about four years ago. Folks in town said they were going to renovate it. Make it into a luxury hotel. Yeah right. Another one of the Ayers unfulfilled promises. Now the eight-story building just sits there with seven of the eight stories empty. The ground level is divided up between the “Ayer’s Ice Cream Parlor,” and the “Ayers Good Time Restaurant.” Those businesses seem to always do well. They always have people there day and night. There are limousines parked out front all the time. Although there never has been any trouble it is strange to see those limos always there. I’m not going to rock the boat. These folks haven’t broken any laws so as long as they abide by the law they’re okay in my book. But that doesn’t mean I want them as my neighbors. Today the town is lucky if ten people a day stop to buy something other than gas and food. That’s why I’m surprised to see so many people here at the bar today. “Hey Jesse,” I said, “What’s with all the people in here? Did someone hit the lottery?” “Hey isn’t this great man?” he said, “I don’t know what the deal is, it started around noon today it’s now six, so maybe these folks are going to a family reunion or something like that. Hell, I don’t care. They’re buying my food and drinking my beer. Most of all their paying for it with cash-yahoo!” The bar was packed with people. I kind of figured that we wouldn’t be having the beer drinking contest tonight, but I also figured that when Jesse is happy, that usually means no trouble at the “Easy Street Bar and Grill,” that makes me happy. My buddies were over playing pool at one of the four pool tables that occupied the back of the bar. I had to squeeze in and out from between people to get to

them. When I got there they were betting one of the newcomer’s that they could sink three balls in the corner pocket with one shot while blindfolded with their back facing the pool table. I knew what would happen. Whether I should let it happen, since I am the sheriff, or stop it didn’t really bother me although I did think about stopping it, knowing that I had told the boys not to do that con anymore then looked at the newcomer. He looked simple-minded enough that if he lost, which he would—in a way-he wouldn’t press the issue. So I let the boys have their fun. Larry is at the corner where the three balls are located. Wilson has the blindfold on as Orville is placing the pool cue in Wilson’s hand. When Larry counts down to three Wilson will shoot. “Ready Wilson?” Larry said. “Yep, sure am, go ahead count her down.” “Okay, here goes, 1, 2, 3, GO! Wilson pushes the pool cue. It hits the cue ball wildly rolling down to the hole opposite the hole where the three balls are. When the cue ball goes into the hole. Larry pushes all three balls on the table into the opposite hole and says, “Way to go Wilson-you won!” As you might expect the newcomer wasn’t happy. After all he forked up a hundred dollars. I had positioned myself behind the newcomer just in case. It is now July in Bonestown that meant I had a light coat on which happened to cover my sheriff’s badge. The newcomer reached in his coat pocket pulled out a gun just as I reached around and took it from him. No one else in the bar noticed anything. I motioned to the boys as they gave him his money back. “Hey man, we never planned on taking you’re money, we were just playing with ya that’s all,” Larry said, as the three of them walked away. “Sorry sir,” I said, “Sometimes these boys get a little carried away.” He was about to say something very impolite when I moved the side of my coat just far enough back to where he could see my badge. “I think it’d be best if you just went back to your friends,” I said, “I’ll hold on to your firearm till your ready to leave. “You have a nice night ya hear.” I walked over to my buddies and slapped each one of them on the side of their heads, just like Moe would do in the old “Three Stooges” movies. “Are you guys crazy?” I said,” That guy could have killed one of you! I told you not to do that con anymore!” “Yeah, but you were there,” Wilson said, “We knew nothing would happen.” “But what if I wasn’t there? What if the guy decided to shoot from the hip? You’d be dead Wilson—think about that!” “Yeah Mark you’re right, you’re always right.” Wilson said as he lugged up

another mug of beer to his mouth. “Okay, guys it’s obvious that our drinking contest isn’t going to happen tonight so I’m going to check the town. I’ll be back here in about an hour-you guys had better be gone.” “But Ma… Mark it’s only around 7:00.” Larry said, “The nights still young and so are we.” “Yeah Larry you are, but all you guys are as drunk as a skunk in a rug. I’ll call a cab. I want you guys gone when I get back ya hear!” I went over to the bar trying to wave down Jesse, but he was way too busy. I took my cell phone from it’s holder, dialed the pre-programmed number for the “Blue Cab Company” and had them send a car for my drunken buddies. I still had concerns about where all these people came from and wanted to find some answers. It just didn’t seem right. I knew Jesse was happy for the business so was I, but something… something about these people didn’t set well in my stomach. I am naturally suspicious of newcomers in town, especially large groups of people coming into town when there’s nothing happening here, or maybe the fact that the one guy had a gun bothered me. I wasn’t sure why they bothered me, but I didn’t like it. When I feel this way it usually means trouble. Walking out of the bar I jotted down the license plate numbers of some of the cars I saw in the parking lot then got in my car and drove on down the road. There is a piece of land that I wanted to look at before it got too dark. It was just down the road a few miles so I decided this might be a good time to look at it. The roads in these parts aren’t exactly what you’d call roads. After driving about a mile hitting bump after bump and running over rock after rock I wondered just how long my old cruiser would last. “Oh well to late now.” I thought as I hit another rock. The piece of land that I wanted to see came into view. I slowed down, turned and parked at the front gate that blocked the entrance to the land. The sign on the gate read,

“Private Property Indian Reservation Land Violator’s will be prosecuted!”

I didn’t pay any attention to that sign, picked the lock and opened the gate. I know the Indian that owns this land, Chief Running Wolf. We play cards together every Saturday night so I knew he wouldn’t mind me looking around. The Chief has a very nice spread here. There are lots of trees plus a very nice stream running through the middle of the land. He said that once his sons are grown he is going to settle on this land and spend the rest of his days here. Well… not if I can help it. I plan to buy this land or maybe swap him a really nice piece of land I have on the other side of town for this land. I doubt he’ll be spending the rest of his days here. Besides the land I have on the other side of town is twice as big as this land with the same features as this land. It’d be a steal for him to take that land. I’ve asked him to sell this piece of land to me in the past but he’s refused. We’ve had our disagreements. They’ve never ended in bad blood. We both have to live here so we both know we can’t be angry at each other for long. Although, my patience is running out, I have new investors that are interested in this land for their casino. I need to buy it by the end of this year, or construction of their casino will fall behind schedule. I finished looking around and hiked back out of the gate locked it and went back to the bar. At the bar I saw a mass exodus of cars. Dust flew everywhere. It was hard to tell the dust from the cars. I pulled up nearby and got the shotgun out of the rack on the middle of the dash. The minute I did I heard a roll of gunshots coming from the bar. “Oh Shit!” I ran with my head down gun positioned in front of me through the dust toward the front door of the bar. When the dust cleared I saw something awful. Jesse lay on the front steps of the bar. I dropped my shotgun running toward Jesse. Putting Jesse’s head on my knee felt awkward almost surreal. Jesse was still alive and wanted me to come closer. He whispered in my ear, “Araian Ayers did this.” He closed his eyes and fell limp. By this time, my deputy, Harlan Quick, had arrived along with the paramedics. I gently laid Jesse on the ground sliding his eyelids over his eyes. I saw Larry with the rest of the guys standing off to the side of the bar. I walked over and asked them, “What happened? Did you see what happened?” Larry spoke first. “Ayers came in drunk with about four other guys-big guys-looking for you. He saw Jesse, and Mark, it… it was like… he went crazy. He ran over to him… grabbed him by the shirt, dragged him out here… and… and.” “You don’t need to tell me the rest,” I said, “Which way did they go?” Larry pointed west. I started to walk over to my car when Harlan approached

me, “Mark you can’t. You’ll know what’ll happen if you do what you’re thinking! You can’t Mark! You can’t!” “Who the hell said I couldn’t!” I threw the shotgun in my car got in speeding off down the road. As the paramedics covered his body with a sheet then put Jesse in the ambulance, I looked in my rearview mirror and saw Larry walking away from the ambulance as it sped off toward town-code nine (no lights or siren, dead body). What Larry said was right. I couldn’t do what I’d planned. But I needed to do something right away. So I did some research. First I went back to the bar asking the remaining patrons if they knew anything about Araian Ayers that would help me find him. I also, visited some townsfolk asking them the same questions. After that I went back to my office ed the F.B.I. and other government agencies. By the time I finished I thought I knew Araian Ayers habits and M.O. better than he knew himself.

Chapter 21

“A life half spent”

It’s been twelve years since I started buying land in Bonestown, now most of the land in Bonestown, Arizona is mine. I often wonder if it’s worth my time. A lot can happen between nineteen-ninety-eight and two-thousand-and-twelve. My father wanted me to follow in his footsteps and become a neurologist. Rising costs of education in addition to his thinking that I should make my own money never helped with the tuition of college. The idea of learning to delve into how people’s mind’s work never really took hold in my mind. I quit The University of Bonestown after the first year, so here I am, the most successful land baron in these parts. Well, actually the only land baron in these parts. One thing my father did teach me was the “art of the deal” as some people refer to negotiating. It’s served me well. I’ve used it to buy some very nice pieces of land. Where my father learned to “deal” for land I don’t know, but he had a knack for it besides it made him very rich until he contracted Alzheimer’s losing all his money paying for specialized treatment. He died in nineteen-hundred-and-eighty not knowing who he was and that he had a family that loved him-his death was a blessing to him and an end to his suffering. It shocked our family. It happened too quickly, we thought he’d live at least for another year. Mom couldn’t take life without dad: she died a year later. Her doctor said she had a stroke, but I knew it was really “death by loneliness.” Two years after mom died I met Kathleen. She was and still is my soul mate. We dated for about five years. It took me about that long to get up enough nerve to ask her to marry me. During our marriage we had two children; David and Jennifer. David had always been the first to do anything. He was the first born so he tended to get more attention than Jennifer. He was an almost perfect child never giving us any problems always did what was asked of him. It’s funny, when he was young about five I guess, we were driving on the I-10 going to Waterford for a family get-together and every once and a while I’d catch him looking up at the photo camera’s as we’d each one trying to talk but

couldn’t get out the right words. Kathy would try to coax him to talk more clearly, but he wouldn’t. He just kept on saying, “squi-jumkers… squi-jumkers” Neither one of us understood what that meant until we happened to get stuck in traffic and something caught my eye. I saw a squirrel climb up on top of one of the photo cameras then literally jump off of it to a nearby bush. Then it hit me—squi-jumkers… squi—squirrel… jumpers-jumping—squi-jumkers meant-“squirrel jumping.” When I told Kathy what I thought Davy (as I liked to call him) was trying to say she smiled. “Leave it to our son to see something no one else sees.” We marveled at the awareness of such a little boy. Of course we knew that probably every family that has a moment like this feels the same way about their child, but to us, it seemed more than ordinary. We couldn’t have asked for a better child. Davy kept on amazing us through the years; noticing as well as wondering about things other people couldn’t, you know like why are the pipes under the sink are designed in an inverted “S” pattern instead of designed at gradual declining angle? And, why are painted arrows and signs on the paved area of a freeway showing that an exit is near when there is a sign right above them stating the same information? He’d also question why, in certain areas of Waterford, there are signs that warn of depressions in the road right after you’ve gone through them. But, his most odd question was the age-old question, “Why do good people die young bad people seem to live forever?” We tried to explain why life is the way it is, but he never listened to us or just couldn’t understand what we were trying to say. Aside from that one question that seemed to nag at Davy over the years, he was a very good child most of the time. He’d always do what was asked of him, although at times he did show signs of resistance—age tends to change how a person thinks. It did when I was growing up. Now I could see it in Davy as well. However, when Davy went off to college I sensed that something wasn’t right, he wasn’t the normal even-tempered, happy person we all knew and loved. He definitely had troubles that appeared too big for him to handle. Being parents, besides loving him very much, we tried to talk with him but nothing worked-that sacred the hell out of us. Davy had never been this isolated, this alone, it wasn’t part of his psyche. I hoped beyond all the demons that were bothering him that his going off to college would help him cope with whatever had taken his personality.

He returned home after the first year of college and both Kathy and I noticed he hadn’t changed, in fact things had escalated, we were more afraid for his sanity. While he stayed with us he’d mope around the house hardly saying anything. He’d spend hours just looking out the window. I felt that he’d lost his self-worth and somehow couldn’t cope with what life had given him. We had scheduled a party in celebration of his coming home. However, when we told him about it, he just said-in a monotone way, “That’s nice.” Kathy took him aside one day trying to talk to him but that just resulted in him storming out of the house. I knew that his old girlfriend-Rebecca-could cheer him up, so I invited her over for the party. Well… good intentions sometimes don’t work. They had a terrible fight she went home crying. At least he could talk with her. I couldn’t sleep any of the nights that he stayed with us. One night I happen to wake up, go downstairs into the living room just as I heard what sounded like a loud snap. The living room was dark. I didn’t see anything moving. By this time my eyes had adjusted to the darkness and my vision cleared enough to let me see most of the objects in the room-with a blurred outline. Why I didn’t turn on the lights I don’t know but I went back to bed. The next morning I awoke to an awful scream coming from downstairs. I looked over at the other side of the bed-Kathy wasn’t there. My first thoughts were that something happened to her. Then I heard her calling me. “Mark get down here!! . . . Oh my God!! . . . Mark come quick!!” I couldn’t get my robe and slippers on fast enough as I bolted from the bedroom down the stairs into the living room. What I saw sent shivers through my body. The shape, a familiar shape, swayed slowly from side to side in front of me, Now I knew what made the snapping sound last night. It was the sound of a chair falling over. That chair held Davy’s body as he hung from the chandelier. I went over to the chest of drawers, opened one of the drawers and pulled out a large letter opener. I didn’t know if it would work, but I had to cut him down. The sight of him hanging lifeless from something that gave light to the room was almost too much to bear. I told Kathy to grab his legs as I righted the chair, stood on it and after what felt like I was trying to cut through stone for hours, released his lifeless body from the instrument of his destruction. I reached for his chest. We laid him on the floor. Kathy was crying so hard that her face became soaked with tears. She shivered crying endlessly. All she could say was, “Why, why, why? I heard the door to Jennifer’s bedroom open. “Damn it! I thought, “I should have fixed that squeaky

hinge.” Jennifer had heard the screams. I knew that she wouldn’t be able to take the sight of her older brother dead. She’d had so much trouble in her life the last thing she needed was to see her brother lying dead in the living room. Two operations to remove a cancerous sist in her left lung were partially successful but the growth is still there increasing every second, and her best friend-Jukierecently had been killed while driving a camper. Apparently Jukie with some friends of hers were coming back from a camping trip-Jukie was driving. She was tired and shouldn’t have been driving down a mountain road at night while taking a corner too fast. They found her body about fifty feet down the side of a cliff. Her head had hit a rock when she hit the ground causing immediate death. The doctors said if she hadn’t hit her head she might have survived. Jenny had never recovered from that news because she’d suggested that Jukie go on that trip. Jukie didn’t want to go, but Jenny thought it would do her some good since Jukie always had her head in books never getting out to do anything exciting. Jenny also has a bad knee as a result of a dirt bike accident a few years ago. Add to that the fact that she’d always wanted to have children and was told by her doctor just last week that she would never be able to have children due to a malformed uterus and you have a very unstable emotional child. “Kathy honey,” I said. “I’ve got to get Jennifer, she wouldn’t be able to take seeing Davy like this. I turned away from Kathy as she seized my robe. “Please don’t leave me Honey, please.” “I’ll be right back sweetie, I just need to take care of Jenny.” I didn’t want to leave Kathy but I knew if Jenny saw Davy she’d collapse. For her that would be impossible to handle. Running up the stairs I saw Jenny as she reached the top of them ready to take her first step from the landing to the first stair. She caught a glimpse of Davy. “Oh… oh my God! What… what happened to David?” she said, as I twirled my robe around her, turning her away from viewing Davy’s body. “C’mon honey, lets… get you away from here.” “But… but I want to see David.” “Not now honey. It’s best to stay up here. Your mom and I will take care of Davy. You stay in your room until we come and get you. “But… daddy… David… is he… is he… dead?” I paused looked into those pearl blue, innocent eyes of hers and said, as my

voice trembled with the reality that Jenny’s brother is gone, “Yes… sweetie… he’s gone. I’m sorry honey. I know how close you two were. By this time we’d reached her room helping her over to her bed. Swiftly I kicked her professional bow and arrows that were lying on the floor by her bed to the nightstand. The force of the bow hitting the nightstand almost knocked over her trophy for archery. She sat on the bed as tears eased down her nightgown onto the clean sheets. As I looked at her I wondered how all of us were going to handle this horrible night. Against what I thought would be best I decided that Jenny needed to be alone and left her room. I knew that the paramedics with the police would have to be ed. Davy had committed suicide, but it just seemed right to have the paramedics here. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he still had a breath of life in him and they could draw it out. A small table sat about half way down the hall to the stairs that had a phone on it. It appeared to be logical to make the calls. Fortunately, I didn’t have to call the police. The whale of sirens coming up the street alerted my attention. Soon afterward there was a knock on the front door. One of our neighbors must have heard Kathy screaming and called them. I ran down the stairs noticing that Kathy had opened the front door and took the two officers over to Davy’s body. The officers were two of the best from the Bonestown Police Department; Frank Wells and Joe Blisser. Since I was the sheriff the police responded, so as not being seen as playing favorites to any judge or prosecutor besides they were more equipped to handle a case like this. Soon after they arrived the paramedics arrived. “Hi Frank… Joe,” I said as I approached the scene. Frank was the first to speak. “Hey Mark, Kathy just told us what happened… I’m sorry man… it’s rough to go through something like this. You know I have to ask you some questions-right?” “Yes… I expected it.” I walked over to Kathy, who had been sitting on the couch just starring at Davy. “I’ll get the rough question out of the way first. Please understand. I have to ask this question. “Where were you two when David died?” asked Frank I looked at him as if he’d just killed Davy himself. “What kind of question is that? You know we wouldn’t do anything to hurt Davy! What’s the matter with you?”

“Mark,” replied Frank, “you’re a sheriff you know I have to ask that question, don’t you?” I reluctantly thought about what he’d just said and said, “Yeah… yes I do. I just thought that I’d never be asked anything like that.” “I know,” said Frank. “It’s something no one expects to hear or wants to be asked. Look Mark I know you didn’t have anything to do with this. I mean there’d be no motive for you to do this… I just had to ask. Let me start with some questions that I also need to ask that I hope won’t be as stressful. Although in this situation anything I ask is going to hurt. But here goes, “Did you notice that David may have been acting strange before… well before this happened?” “Yes, we both noticed that he seemed to be very quiet. It was… well… like he wasn’t really here. You know like Davy had been replaced by someone else… does that make sense to you?” “Yes it does John,” said Frank, “Sometimes people get very moody before… well… before this kind of thing happens. Did he say or do anything else that might lead you to believe he would take his life. I know that seems like a rather dumb question given what you said and what Davy has just done, but you’d be surprised how questions like that garner much more information.” “I thought that Da… David might be depressed over something that happened at college,” said Kathy looking toward me then down at Davy while the paramedics loaded him on a stretcher covering his body with a sheet with a light blue sheet. “Did something happen at school?” asked Joe, “Do you know if anything really happened, or was he just depressed about college.” “Davy wasn’t like that,” I said. “He thrived on pressure and school… at least that’s what I thought until he came home.” By this time both Kathy and myself were getting tired of questions and just wanted the police to leave. The rays of the morning sun were beginning to seep through the shear white drapes that covered the large bay windows to the right side of the couch. “Look Frank do you think we can do this later? I asked, “both Kathy and I aren’t in the best of shape right now.”

“Hey,” said Joe, “I know this isn’t the best time for these questions, but everything is fresh in your mind right now, that’s why it’s vital we get as much information from you as possible now instead of two to three days from now.” “Joe,” Frank said, “I think we’ve got enough for now.” Frank gave me a small smile. The two officers started toward the door. Frank turned to me and said, “Mark, if we need anything else, which we probably will, we’ll you— maybe tomorrow or the next day.” “Thanks guys, we really appreciate this.” Suddenly Kathy spotted something on the rug next to where Davy had just laid. “Look Mark honey what’s that?” Frank, being the good cop he is with an uncanny ability hear a pin drop in the next room, heard Kathy then turned around. “What… what did you say ma’am? Kathy looked up at the two officers as they walked back to us. She pointed to what looked like a small stain on the rug. Even though the sun had begun to slide into the living room, the light wasn’t bright enough to fully illuminate the stain. I reached for a lamp on the table next to us bringing it down close to the stain. When we could see what it was, I looked at Kathy, and Frank looked at Joe, as if to say, “What the hell?” It was obvious that it was a bloodstain. “But, I thought, why would there be a bloodstain if Davy had hung himself?” Instantly I became very excited and began to laugh, which shocked everyone, including me. “Don’t you guys get it?” Well, hell guys I’d expect you two to know what I’m talking about. But then again maybe you do but don’t want to say anything yet. Guys, if it’s a blood stain then Davy didn’t commit suicide, he was murdered!” “What?” asked Kathy. “How could you say such a thing?” “Honey, it’s obvious… someone killed our son and Frank and Joe are going to find out who it is. If they don’t I will! And believe me, if I find the guy who did this to Davy… well… let’s just say you won’t be able to find enough of him to bury! “Now Mark don’t you get carried away with this,” Joe said as he took a small plastic bag from his pocket then reached for a pen bending down to get a specimen of the blood. “Joe!! What the hell are you doing?” shouted Frank, “leave that for the CSI people, or you’ll contaminate it. Besides that stain, if it is blood, could have

happened when David tried to hang himself. You know he could have slipped on that chair as he… well you know. He could have cut himself on it somehow. “Oh Shit!!” I said, as I realized that Jenny was still upstairs. “But, why didn’t she come down?” I thought. “I’m sure she must have heard the sirens and must have seen the police and the EMT unit outside from her bedroom window.” “Shit! . . . Shit! Jenny, we forgot about Jenny. How could we be so mean? Kathy jumped up, followed me upstairs as the police came behind us. A rush of warm air greeted me as I opened her bedroom door. Jenny was gone! I ran over to the window and looked out, around and down, but couldn’t see her anywhere. “Jenny… where’s my Jenny?” Kathy yelled as she fell on the throw rug in front of Jenny’s bed. Seconds later her cries beckoned me to her. I held her in my arms. “Has your daughter done this before?” asked Frank. “Yes… we’d ground her from time to time then she’d sneak out, climb down that tree and run off with her friends. “Could she have done that this time?” asked Joe. “I doubt it. She was too upset to do anything but cry. Davy and her were very close.” “Well it looks like that’s what happened,” said Frank as he looked out the window. It looks like the grass near the tree down there has been depressed. You know like the depression footprints might make as you jumped on the grass from the tree then run away.” As I went back over to the window and saw what Frank was talking about he asked, “Who are these friends that your daughter would sneak out to see?” “Oh… just some friends from the reservation. She had an ongoing relationship with one of them “Danny Greyhorse.” A relationship we didn’t care for, and I’ll bet you that’s where she is right now.” “Why, because he was an Indian?” asked Joe. Knowing that Joe is part Indian and because it isn’t true I said, “No… no… nothing like that. He was just getting in trouble all the time and we didn’t want Jenny to become what he’d become.”

“Wait a minute Joe,” Frank said. “ that kid we booked into county about a month a ago, wasn’t his name Greyhorse?” “Hey… yeah… you’re right. We caught him trying to steal a car from Jesse Capellina’s used car lot. Not that stealing a car from Jesse would be a crime all he sells is junk anyway. But he’s still locked up isn’t he?” “Yeah you’re right, so that couldn’t be where your daughter went or we’d have gotten a call from central. “So Mark who were the other friends she might have gone to see?” “I’m sure she has more friends than we know about Frank, but the only other two we know well are, James Coty and Koki Willimas. But wait, what about Justin Greyhorse, you know Danny’s brother. Those two used to hang out a lot, maybe he knows where Jenny is, or at least where she might have gone.” “We’ll check em out,” Frank said. “We’ve got a friend on the tribal council and he does a lot of work with the younger kids. Maybe he could be of some help in this.” “Okay Joe, you call the CSI team out here and get them to take a specimen of that… that blood or whatever is on that rug downstairs.” “C’mon Frank you and I both know its blood,” Joe said in a very sarcastic tone. “Joe, we won’t know anything until the CSI people do their stuff. Then we’ll know what it really is. We won’t have to guess or make unfounded judgments on what caused their sons death. “C’mon Joe,” Frank said, “let’s get out of here and get busy on this case.”

§ § § §

Kathy and I had been sitting on the couch in the living room for what seemed like hours after the officers left. Kathy sobbed from time to time and held me close. I tried to be strong and hold off my emotions, but once and a while they’d manage to break through and the two of us would have a crying fit. “I should be doing something,” I said, as I felt Kathy’s long blond hair. “What can you do?” Kathy asked, while wiping tears from her worn distraught face. “If you go out

there trying to find Jenny then I’ll be here all alone. I don’t want to be alone today—not today.” I looked at Kathy “You know this reminds me of a line in an old Beatles song.” “You know the one about a daughter leaving home. It goes like this… I think, “She’s leaving home after living alone for so many years.” Kathy looked up at me and asked, “Have we been that bad of parents that we’d drive her away?” Tears started to swell up in Kathy again. I knew that had to comfort her, “Of course not,” I said, half hoping that she didn’t see the doubt in my eyes. The mid morning sun crept through the blinds while we fell asleep. A loud pounding on the front door awakened us. Both of us tripped over ourselves trying to get our bearings. The whole day had been slept away and night had come fast to our house-too fast. Someone definitely wanted us to answer the door-the pounding became louder as we ran toward the door. We were hoping it was either Joe or Frank and that they had found Jenny. I reached the door first and opened it. Shock filled our faces at the sight of an Indian standing on our front porch. Then I felt it. I didn’t know what it was or why it was happening but my arms had begun to tingle. The sensation felt as though I’d been shocked but not severe enough to cause pain, just severe enough to let me know that something had happened. The feeling pulsed in my arms as I looked at the Indian. I knew almost all the Indians on the reservation, but this one I hadn’t seen before. I didn’t want to see him. Maybe he knows where Jenny is. Before I could finish asking him about Jenny he said, and in a tone that didn’t resemble any voice I’d ever heard, “Only a true spirit create true horror your time is coming.” With that said the Indian turned around to walk away, took two steps and disappeared along with the tingling sensation in my arms. “Oh Shit!” I said, “Now I’m seeing things and feeling things that aren’t real!” I turned around and discovered that Kathy was gone. Running into the living room I yelled her name. Nothing! Back into the foyer a faint sound came to me—like a baby or a small child crying upstairs. Kathy! I ran up the stairs, found Kathy in Jenny’s room on the floor, holding a bear that I’d given Jenny last year when we went to the fair. I knew Jenny was too old for that kind of thing when I gave it to her, but I felt like she should have it. I went over and held Kathy close as we both held the bear even closer.

§ § § §

It was odd. The police never did find Jenny and we finally came to the realization that she had either ran off to be with her friends permanently, or the worse case scenario, someone had abducted her, killed her or brainwashed her into thinking that she belonged with them. We never went back into Jenny’s room. I think we both felt a deep guilt for not giving her the things she really needed. We’d paid too much attention to our first born-Davy, not enough attention to her. That guilt will haunt us as long as we live. Maybe that Indian at our front door was right, our horror is to live life without our beautiful children by our side. Joe and Frank did discover that my assumption had been right, Davy indeed had been murdered as I thought, but that’s as far as it went. They never could find out the identity of the murderer, but they did find two letters carved in Davy’s lower back: “A.A.” They asked if us if we knew anyone with those initials, we didn’t, at least Kathy didn’t know. At that time those letters did stir something in my subconscious, but I couldn’t figure out what they meant. When we were at Davy’s funeral almost everyone in town somehow managed to be there. It stirred my feelings of regret that I couldn’t find out what had bothered Davy so much in those days before his death. Maybe if I had we could have talked it out and resolved it before he took his life. Davy’s funeral was at The North Bonestown Cemetery of the Gods. The cemetery received that name due to the huge evergreen trees that resemble large green gods protecting the dead. Smaller trees line the roadways leading to cemetery plots. It is known that when someone is laid to rest branches would bend and sway toward the plot of the person being buried while the service was in progress. There are no scientific reasons for this, although it has been studied to death. In one instance in nineteen-hundred-and-fifty-five a very prominent businessman, Larry Staple, who gave a lot to the people of Bonestown had his service at this cemetery. It had been recorded in the cemetery records that after the ceremony concluded his coffin was lowered into the ground while an earthquake shook the cemetery. The strength of the quake literally shot his coffin out of the grave landing twenty feet away on top of Raynold Jackson’s car. Jackson was not a leading citizen and not one who abides by the law as a common occurrence. It seemed odd that he was there but no one knew why. He

had been leaning on his car at the time the coffin came toward him. It just missed him by inches, but what put Raynold over the edge was that the lid of the coffin opened as Larry Staple’s dead body fell on top of Raynold just as Larry’s mouth opened and said, “You’re… next.” Within five days Raynold Jackson died, apparently from a heart attack. Most of the time the cemetery is uneventful but this time-just as what happened in nineteen-hundred-and-fifty-five something weird happened. One person at the funeral didn’t appear to be part of Bonestown. He stood about a foot taller than almost everyone else, had jet-black hair that flowed effortlessly down to the small of his back. This young man seemed very interested in Davy’s coffin or at least it appeared that way. The thing that I found interesting about him were his hands; they were old, not the hands of a young man, but his face looked like someone in their twenty’s. I had to learn more about this guy. He might have known Davy from college. Maybe he would have some answers as to why Davy acted like he did before he died, or better yet who would want to kill him. When the service ended I sauntered over toward the “tall man” as I call him. He looked at me as I approached and said, “I know what you want to ask me. You want to know who killed him right?” Now my curiosity had been elevated. As far as I knew no one knew how Davy actually died. It was reported in the papers that he died from a heart condition, but nothing was mentioned of a murder, so how did this stranger know how he actually died? “Yes,” I said, “But how did you know?” “I knew David very well. I made sure that he wasn’t the young man you thought he was before he left for college.” “What the hell!” I said as my anger with desire to destroy this stranger boiled. I was about to give him a swift punch in the face when I heard Kathy calling me. “Mark? Mark what are you doing?” I turned around just as Kathy came close. “I was just about to knock the hell out of this guy.” “What? What guy?” “This guy,” I said as I pointed and turned around discovering that the “tall man” had vanished. “Oh great!” I thought, here I go again seeing and hearing things that aren’t there. Kathy, wanting to believe me, started looking toward the trees

and bushes. I walked with her around the leaf fallen area where I thought I’d seen that man not finding any trace of him or anything else, except a lot of leaves. While she continued to look for him I looked back at the workers that were now covering the grave of Davy. “C’mon Honey let’s get out of here,” she said, “It’s been a long few days besides we’ve both gone through a lot.” Her worn tired bloodshot eyes just beyond a shear black veil started to tear. Our life would change from what it had been I just hoped it changed for the better.

§ § § §

Kathy and I went on with our lives as best we could. We were married for about five years after we lost our children when the accident happened. My career, if you could call it that, dealt with construction-mainly carpentry work in Bonestown. With that work plus my land purchases I made a pretty good living. Kathy had just finished her masters in education, so we decided to celebrate her success by exploring. We used to explore the caverns around Bonestown before I became the Sheriff, and loved to explore the Wacapica Caverns just south of town. Our decision to explore caves began as an outlet for the guilt we felt, but soon became an obsession. The Wacapica Caverns were huge going on for miles in different directions. There were dangerous spots and people were cautioned about hiking in the caves. In fact there is a sign near the entrance to the caves that reads, “Enter at your own risk. These caverns are full of tunnels that lead nowhere. People have died trying to find their way out. Our past experiences with these caves were always eventful but never dangerous for us. We knew most of the ages that led out of the caverns so we didn’t think anything of hiking through them, even with the warning posted outside. This time however, things were different, navigating the caves became much more difficult.

The caverns always had some sense of danger to them but we were trained very well. Now that I look back on it, I do having a small sense of something not being right as we entered the cavern, but Kathy was so happy she didn’t seem to be concerned about anything, so I dismissed my concerns as we went on exploring. It’s amazing that as many times as we’ve hiked these caverns

there is always something new to discover. This time we found a new tunnel. Hiking into a tunnel that is new plus one we weren’t sure was safe isn’t something anyone should do without a lifeline to the outside. Since both of us were inside, it didn’t make sense to explore it. But we did look into it from a safe vantage point. Flowers were growing from what appeared to be solid rock. Of course everyone knows that isn’t possible. We weren’t close enough to them to study so we let our imaginations ramble at the thought of flowers growing from rocks. We’d traveled about a mile into the cavern when Kathy decided to stop for a snack. She found a small area near a stream, plopped her backpack down on a flat rock nearby and rummaged through it for her bag of trail mix. I came up next to her, dropped my backpack, pulled out a bottle of water from one of the pouches then took a big gulp. If you’re careful Wacapica Caverns is a beautiful spot for a picnic or just a leisurely walk. We’d done both so far. Where we stopped wasn’t the steep part of the caverns however, we knew it would be a good time to gather our resources to gain some needed strength. Both of us had hiked about ten miles from town to the caverns, then another mile into the cavern, so we needed a third break. Walking is our form of exercise, there isn’t much else you can do for exercise in Bonestown, well except for what we call, “blanket and bed” exercise, which I’m sure most people understand. There is plenty of that in Silver Creek: from the bed and breakfast that caters to “swingers” to the house of Betty F Carbuttle that caters to… well… lets just say guys visit this place quite a bit, especially teenagers looking to become a man. However, as in a certain city in Nevada, this is all legal. Kathy had just finished her trail mix as she began to gaze upon the rainbow of colors that reflected off of some stalagmites as a tiny ray of sunlight pierced through a small opening in the roof of the cave. I could tell by the look on her face that she wished she had the ability of a great artist, painting what she saw right down to the most inconsequential detail with ease. “Damn that’s beautiful!” she said, as she stood up, tossed the empty trail mix bag into a small pouch on the side of her backpack. “Yeah, it sure is sweetie. Just another one of God’s creation’s.” “Yep, but we can’t stay here forever. We still have a lot of ground to cover so we’d better get going.”

Kathy grabbed her pack quickly jaunting off, as I turned around to get my pack and follow her. I’d been following her through paths with rock filled mounds for about an hour when she bolted. The picture of her going around a rock-studded corner reminded me of the first time she’d done that years ago on our first visit here. I knew she’d be waiting on the other side of the rock formation ready to jump in my face the minute I rounded the corner. So this time I decided to wait her out. It seemed like it had been an hour when I looked at my watch. It had only been ten minutes. Kathy would never wait this long, she’s too anxious besides it would annoy her that I hadn’t come after her. Thoughts of her safety started to rear their ugly heads. “Enough of this game,” I said under my breath. I yelled to her, “Kathy you there? I know you like to play this game but it’s been ten minutes already, you okay?” As I said these words I turned the corner discovering that I was alone. I turned completely around hoping that she’d be hiding and I’d spot her—no such luck. I called out again. “Kathy where are you?” no answer. “Oh shit!” “Kathleen answer me! This isn’t funny anymore! Where are you?” I searched the immediate area—nothing, not even a piece of her trail mix. We had walkie-talkies with us, so I used mine. All I got from her end was static. “Shit! Shit!” “Damn it Kathleen where are you!” This part of the cavern lay open in addition to quite a few tunnels that she could have gone through, but why would she, why wouldn’t she answer her walkietalkie? I decided to take a chance that she’d be in one of the other tunnels. I’d gone about twenty feet when I found something I didn’t want to find, at least not in this condition. It was Kathy’s walkie-talkie it had been smashed—as if someone had stomped on it. Then it donned on me. I tried to call her and got static so it must have been working before someone destroyed it. “Aw… Damn it! NO! NO! I realized what happened she’d been kidnapped. Why would someone take Kathy? I searched as long as I could, as long as my flashlight lasted but found nothing else. Fortunately, we’d both traversed these caverns before many times so I could find my way out of here blindfolded, which was good, because now the sun had just set. In these caverns darkness seemed darker

than usual without the aid of a flashlight. Eventually, I reached the outside world running back toward town. Trying to do any more searching tonight would be useless without help. Tears streamed down my face as I saw toward the lights of Bonestown. I was out of breath and had to walk into town-I didn’t want to I would have much rather ran into town-but I had no other choice. Sheriff Andrew Marsh would be asleep in one of the cells, just like the town drunk on “The Andy Griffith show.” I’d have to wake him from his sound sleep that meant he’d be groggy probably not wanting anything to do with me, even if Kathy were missing. He’s not much of a sheriff. I really don’t know why he’s still sheriff. Apparently, no one has the guts to run against him. This time though, HE WILL get up and HE WILL start a search for Kathy if I have to drag his three hundred pound body kicking and screaming into his cruiser. By the time I reached the jail the sheriff was up and standing outside his adobe styled office puffing away on one of his stogies. “Hey Mark Street, how the hell you doing tonight? What brings you out on a night like this?” “Sheriff, there’s no time for pleasantries, Kathy is missing. We were in the Wacapica Caverns and she went around a corner and just disappeared—c’mon we’ve got to find her,” I said, as I took his arm. “Whoa… hold on Mark my boy. Maybe she’s just playing with you. You know she does that from time to time. “Yes I do but this is different, now c’mon-she could be lying somewhere… dying! C’mon! “Alright… alright, let me call for Hank and Ralph, they know those caverns like the back of their hands, if she’s still there, the four of us will find her. While the sheriff went inside to call his deputies I waited outside pondering what had happened to Kathy, along with why someone would have taken her. I didn’t have long to ponder. Sheriff Marsh came back out, put his sheriff’s cowboy hat on then told me to get into his cruiser. “Did you get a hold of Hank and Ralph?” “Na… their wives said they went on a hunting trip, so it’s just you and me pal.

Let’s get a wiggle on.” I literally jumped in to his cruiser. We sped off toward the caverns, leaving dust and dirt flying in our wake. When we pulled up to the entrance both of us were shocked at what we saw. Someone had covered the entrance of the caverns with boulders. The sheriff checked out the ground for tracks and found some that looked like “Caterpillar” tracks. I recognized them from when I worked in construction. The sheriff grew up around here so he’s always been familiar with construction and construction equipment. These tracks ended about ten feet away from the entrance. “Well Mark my boy it looks like you fell into a real mystery here. I don’t know if your Kathleen is missing or playing some elaborate game, but whoever blocked this entrance had to know how to operate a Cat. I know Kathy doesn’t know how. Do you know how to operate a Cat Mark my boy? “Me… why would… I… why would you… I don’t know how to run one of those things, I’m a carpenter, not a heavy equipment operator.” “Just the same, Mark you’re not stupid, and you’ve been around construction sites for a long time. Who’s to say that you didn’t plan this, could be you did something to Kathleen.” I lunged at the sheriff while shouting, “Who’s to say you didn’t move those boulders. I’ve known about your interest in Kathy for a long time now.” Lunging and shouting at the sheriff besides fighting him is not a wise decision. He was ready for me and wrestled me to the ground, handcuffed me, then threw me into the cruiser. “Now Mark my boy, I’m going to first, find a way into those caverns, then search them for Kathleen, and you better hope that I don’t find her dead, because if that happens… well let’s just say you’re the only suspect I have, I think you get my gist. Andy, as most people call him, took a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to stop my yelling at him, then slammed the cruiser door. It took me about ten minutes but I managed to spit out the handkerchief. My hands were beginning to burn as I kept trying to slip them through the cuffs. This time of night always seemed scary to me, especially out here by these caverns. There isn’t anything out here but desert, cacti, and insects. At night its really creepy; no sounds of crickets, birds or anything, even though they are out there. Kathy and I had some romantic times out here years ago, but that all stopped when we started hearing things. You know “things that go bump in the night.” Except that we were outside, not in a house, things that you shouldn’t hear in a

desert at night—like footsteps that seemed to be around us all the time. That’s what we thought then, so we stopped our romantic adventures just leaving them to the light of day. Right now I’d give anything for any kind of footsteps, even Andy’s. Considering what happened next I guess being so quiet meant that I would be scared to death, because right about now I heard three distinct gunshots coming from what sounded like the other side of the blocked entrance. I jumped up hitting my head on the underside of the roof then plummeted back down on the seat. “Damn it! I shouted. Pain surged through my hands and head. Blood crawled from the edge of the cuffs that were now digging into my flesh. I fiddled with the cuffs again somehow I managed to free myself from their torture. Kicking the cruiser door open enabled me to run toward the covered opening of the cavern. I didn’t know what I could do to move those rocks or boulders, but I knew I had to do something. There were two rocks that didn’t look too imposing. With some work I’d be able to move them and maybe squeeze through into the caverns. My estimate on “some work” turned out to be just a bit short of reality. It took me about two hours to maneuver those pieces of stone from their temporary resting place. By now my energy had been drained I couldn’t stand much less crawl through that opening. The thought did done on me as to why Andy hadn’t come back. Did those gunshots mean that Andy had been shot lying dead a few feet inside the entrance? I didn’t know besides I didn’t want to find out. All I could think of were thoughts of Kathy, “Where is Kathy? Is she hurt and can’t get out? . . . Is she dead?” As those thoughts started bouncing around in my mind something hit me on the back of my head knocking me out. Six o’clock in the morning out here is cold, very cold especially when you’ve been knocked out and a park ranger wakes you from a nightmare. It wasn’t the real life nightmare I’d been experiencing before I lost consciousness, but just as scary. The ranger was a buddy of mine—Johnston Quine III, he was having a very hard time trying to figure out why sheriff Marsh’s cruiser lights were about dead but the sheriff wasn’t nearby. My head throbbed as the pain reminded me of when I hit my head in the cruiser, only worse, much worse. “What happened here Mark?” JQ… you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Just call the sheriff’s deputies, they

should be back from their fishing trip, or at least close to Bonestown by now. You can probably get their cell phone numbers from their wives. Have them meet me here. I’ll explain what’s going on… well what I know of what’s going on.” “Okay but… where is sheriff Marsh? This sure is strange. You know with the sheriff’s car here, it’s lights on and the sheriff nowhere around and then I find you lying by the entrance to those caverns, it sure seems strange. You sure you’re not holding anything back Mark?” “Just call’em and we’ll all figure this out together… Oh… by the way… no I’m not hiding anything.” It took the deputies about an hour to get to the caves. JQ saw Hank’s truck… Ralph had taken his normal place, riding shotgun in the bed of Hank’s truck with his gun pointed over the cab. JQ waved them over to the caves. He had been so concerned about making sure that he saw the deputies that he seemed to have forgotten about me. That was fine with me; I squeezed through the opening in the boulders leaving JQ to explain what he’d seen while I searched for Andy. Minutes later I found him, rather I tripped over him, then fell partially on his bloody body. I realized he’d been shot alright-once in the head along with twice in his chest. As I moved Andy’s body close to the ray of light that had been revealed as a result of my moving the boulders, I saw it. Whoever created it did a good job. I could have sworn whoever did it took his time to make sure the blood didn’t run into the initial’s thereby obscuring the letters. “A.A.” had been carved in the sheriff’s forehead. To me this meant that my son’s killer is alive. Light emanating from the opening in the boulders wouldn’t be enough to light much of the cavern. Hank and Ralph squeezed through the entrance. They came over to me as the beams of their flashlights searched the spot in front of us. Hank retrieved handcuffs from his belt, took my hands and put handcuffs on them. “Hey… what the… what the hell are you doing Hank?” I yelled, as I tried to get free once again from handcuffs. “Sorry Mark, but you’re the only here, and I see blood on you, so until we find out what’s going on, you’re in our custody. “But… he was shot three times and I don’t have a gun… why would you suspect me?”

About this time Ralph yelled to Hank, “Hank come over here and look at this.” Ralph discovered Andy’s body and had been searching in the spot that Andy laid. He discovered something that made my situation much worse. From the glare of the flashlights, I could see that Hank reached into his pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, bent down retrieving something from the floor of the cave. Hank walked back over to me, bent down flashing a gun in my face. “What do you make of this Mark?” “I told you, I didn’t kill him! Why would I kill him? He was helping me find Kathy, I wouldn’t kill the only one who could help me—that’s insane!” “Insane or not,” Ralph said, “We have a gun that’s recently been fired and you at the scene, that doesn’t bode well for you, now does it?” “I didn’t kill anyone… I was hunting for Kathy… that’s all… why don’t you believe me?” While I tried to convince Ralph that someone else killed Andy, Hank had gone off to do some more probing for evidence. Within a few short minutes Hank came running back to us with a look of horror on his face. “Tie his legs up and throw that S.O.B. in the cruiser,” Hank yelled, while still trying to catch his breath. “What happened, what did you find? Ralph asked even as he secured some rope from his belt then tied my feet together. “Come with me Ralph. I’ll show you what that… that… sick-o has done.” Together they took off into the depths of the cavern as I tried to squeeze out of the handcuffs. This time they were way too tight for me to do anything. It had been a least a half hour, or so it seemed, before I saw them again. They were dragging something behind them. It looked like it was another body but I couldn’t tell for sure from where I was sitting. They brought the body up to me laying it at my feet. Their flashlights pointed toward what was left of Kathy. She’d been cut severely over her entire body. Her clothes were torn just hanging on by threads. Her face had been disfigured. Only one way I knew it was Kathytattoo’s of Davy and Jennifer when they were babies on her lower stomach. “Hank,” I said, trembling with fear as to what would happen next, “I didn’t do

this… I couldn’t… she’s my wife for God’s sake… my wife… how could I do this?” My tears and trembling must have made an impression on Hank. He looked at me then at Kathy slowly saying, “Yeah… I know Mark… I’ve known you for ten years, you’d have to be really sick to do this… and you aren’t like that. However, you did identify this body as your wife when we couldn’t tell whom it was, doesn’t that seem a little bit odd?” “I knew it was Kathy by the tattoos on her stomach. You’ve seen our kids when they were young don’t they look like our kids?” Hank looked at Kathy’s body and said, “Yeah they are your kids alright. Something is very odd about this whole situation.” he said At the same time as Hank talked to Mark, Ralph discovered something else. “Hey Hank come look at this.” Ralph pointed to Kathy’s leg so Hank could see what he found. I also looked at her leg. From my angle and distance away from Kathy I was almost sure I’d seen the initials A.A. “I’ve seen those initials before,” I yelled. “Look at Andy’s forehead he’s got them too. Davy had them carved in his lower back too.” “Alright Mark what’s going on here?” “You seem to know more about this than you should.” “Hank… I don’t know… all I know is that those DAMN initials keep showing up on dead people, and I’m always nearby when someone finds the body.” “Mark… you know what you’re saying doesn’t sound good for you, even though I doubt that you have the balls to do something like this.” “Yeah Ralph I know. I think someone wants me to either go to prison for these crimes, or is flaunting his… or her prowess at murder and wants me to be involved somehow.” “Okay let’s get out of here,” said Hank, “We can’t do anything else here. Ralph call the CSI team out here…” Before he could finish his thoughts, I interrupted and said, “But you guys moved the body. You probably disturbed evidence in the process.” Hank looked at me with a gaze as if to say, “You idiot” You had to remind of that didn’t you?” “C’mon Ralph help me move her back to where we found her. Yes I know it’s not right but do you want to spend time in jail for manipulating evidence at a crime scene?” They pulled her body as the smell of her finally got to me. I threw

up just missing Kathy’s body. The mid-morning sunshine came threw the opening in the boulders as these two deputies put me in the bed of their truck and traveled back to Bonestown. When we reached the Sheriff’s office Hank jumped out of the cab then helped me into the office. While Hank walked me into one of the musty, dirty jail cells, I began to wonder what would happen to me, now that Kathy in addition to my whole family were gone. The cell that became my temporary home sat barren except for a worn out mattress, a sink and toilet that smelled of urine. Hank took the handcuffs off, slammed the rod iron barred door shut as he left. For a minute I thought I’d been transported into a movie, the unjustly judged person about to be “hung by the neck until dead,” as the saying goes. There were no windows in this tiny cell. Hank had turned off the lights when he left so the only thing to do was to lie down on what resembled a bed and try to sleep. Nightmares seemed to be a part of sleep for me since Davy died but when I finally did fall asleep I had one of the worse nightmares I’d ever experienced. I had been out all night trying to drink away my worries but somehow managed to make it back home. As I stumbled through the house, knocking over things as I went, I made it to my bedroom, dropped down on the bed exhausted. Although I should have fallen fast asleep something kept me from doing that. An image of an Indian at the foot of my bed plagued me. This Indian wanted to tell me something. He motioned for me to come closer. Naturally in the state of mind I found myself in, I’d do almost anything. I crawled over the sheets and came within inches of the Indian. He seized my neck then squeezed tightly. Escape seemed fruitless but I tried by pounding on him, he laughed continuing to squeeze the life out of me. Just when I thought I’d never see the light of day, he leaned closer to my head stating, “Only true spirits can create true horror,” then laughed. He released his grasp on me slowly dissolving into what looked like dust on the floor. Gasping for air I climbed off the side of the bed. I shouldn’t have done that. The dust began to rise. It began to form the shape of the Indian once more. This time though he didn’t laugh. He took me by the neck, merged himself with me while I saw what he saw in his mind. It appeared to be a great execution of Indians by someone who looked remarkably like me. The Indian’s were herded into a large chamber while holes in the walls on both sides opened up. Cold, circular, blue steel poked through the walls pointing down toward the Indians. Within seconds all the Indian’s were dead as a parts of each of them cascaded down the wooden walls. Turning away wasn’t possible. A minute later I found

myself back in jail, on the floor of the jail with what smelled like urine over my clothes. Ralph had heard me fall off the bed and ran over to see what had happened. He opened the cell door walked in, knelt down trying to pick me up. What happened next made me wonder just what kind of man all this turmoil in my life had turned me into. Ralph’s gun sat within reach with the latch that covered it open. Before I could think twice I had his gun in my hand. “Get back Ralph… I swear I’ll shoot if I have to… just get back.” “Shit! Damn it! Mark, you don’t want to do this Mark, you’re in enough trouble. If you kill me you’ll be wanted for murder. You don’t want that do you?” I pushed Ralph into the cell as I took his keys as I locked the door. “I don’t kill people,” I said throwing the gun through the bars toward Ralph. I just need time to figure this out. I can’t do it in jail. Don’t pick up the gun until I’m gone… please Ralph give me this chance… please” I didn’t expect anything from him. I was positive he would grab the gun moreover I had to take that chance. There was no reasoning for this, just a hunch plus the fact that I’d known Ralph and Hank for years. “Mark… I… I… oh hell! Here take the gun find out what happened to your wife maybe Andy too. Hank will give me hell for letting you escape, but he’ll give you worse if you don’t solve this. That I won’t be able to help you with you understand Mark? I’ve got to be crazy for letting you do this Mark, what makes you think you can do better at finding these killers than we could do? “Not a damn thing Ralph, but I know Kathy and I’ve known Andy longer than you guys. Something isn’t right here and… well… I just have this feeling that I can find out what happened faster than you guys. “Huh… good luck Mark, you’ll need it. Now get out of here before Hank gets back.” I ran out of the back of the sheriff’s office into the alley. I had no idea who killed Andy and Kathy, but those A.A. initials would be a good start. Sneaking around Bonestown is not the easiest thing I’ve done, especially since I know most of the people in this town, but I managed to make it to the only tattoo place in town; “Easy Pete’s Tattoo and Piercing Studio.” I didn’t like what I found, a smoldering ruin of ashes. The fire department had just loaded up their equipment. They were headed back to the station when I got there. I knew that

Stensen Liche would be investigating the source of the fire. Sure enough as I rounded one corner of the studio I saw his car. Stensen along with his assistant Beverly Poe were sifting through ashes for some clue as to what might have caused the fire. My subconscious kept telling me that I knew who did it, well at least his or her initials “A.A.”

Chapter 22

“My tormentor”

Any evidence that Stensen found might lead me to whomever A.A. might be, but I couldn’t let him find what I needed to discover; who’d been tormenting me for all these years. Something drastic had to be done. Unfortunately, I’ve already got more than my share of trouble. What could I do to distract those two from their task at hand? They were getting closer. I couldn’t afford to be discovered. Only thing to do, I ran into the smoldering mess of what used to be a tattoo studio, hoping to hide between the mass of destruction. In an attempt to hide myself, I inadvertently revealed myself stumbling through areas of burnt wood, crumbled desks, and singed file cabinets. In my case however, Stensen and Beverly didn’t get a good look at me only a shadow of a man running across the ruins. Stensen told Beverly to call the sheriffs office. Though I stumbled often, I did manage to escape the ruins while I hiding in a nearby loading dock of an abandoned grocery store. In this situation anything could happen, I just hoped it would be good. As I glanced out from behind an abandoned trailer I saw Stensen about three feet from me. Quickly I turned around. Beverly stood behind me. This is it I thought. Now I’ll be charged for burning down that studio as well. “Mark… is that you?” Stensen said, “What the hell are you doing here?” Don’t you know this is a fire investigation that could turn into a murder investigation?” “Murder?” I said, “What? . . . I thought that just the studio burnt down?” “Yeah… apparently that’s what someone wanted us to believe, but there are three bodies in there—burnt to a crisp. Do you know why someone would want to kill Easy Pete and his family?” “Or did you do it?” “I mean we saw you running from the place. Now we find you hiding here.” By this time Beverly had put cuffs on me. All of us were walking back to the studio. “I didn’t kill anyone. I’ve got enough problems why would I kill Easy

Pete and his family? I barely knew them. Before Stensen or Beverly could answer a loud blast from downtown Bonestown got our attention. “Damn it!” I said, hoping whatever blew up wasn’t what I was thinking about right nowalthough that might help my current situation. Stensen looked at Beverly and vice versa, then back at a fire that had started as a result of the blast. “What do we do with him?” Beverly asked. “Hell I don’t know… were the only two fire investigators in this town. We can’t be in two places at once.” Stensen thought for a minute, looked back at Beverly as she shook her head, as if reading his mind. Stensen hesitated then told Beverly to release me. I hadn’t had much in the way of breaks recently. This one is the one I needed. “Thanks guys.” “Just… get out of here. Don’t tell anyone that you saw us here and that we left for the other fire.” Said Beverly. “But, won’t Andy… ah… the sheriff expect you to be here?” I asked hoping that I inadvertently didn’t reveal that I knew the sheriff was dead “You let us handle the sheriff,” Stensen said, “Now get your lucky ass out of here. I don’t want to ever see you at another fire, or I’ll make sure you’re locked up for a long time.” He didn’t have to say that twice. I ran as fast as I could into a field nearby, looking back over my shoulder from time to time, waiting for the right moment. Once I was sure that they were gone I ran back to the ruins. Seeing burnt bodies is not an easy sight, also to know that you once talked to them, made seeing them all the more disheartening. I began to think heavily about what A.A. meant. If it turned out to be a man or woman, what did he or she want? Why wouldn’t they show themselves, unless they wanted to screw with me? One thing for surethey wanted to make sure that anyone involved in the investigation would start looking into whom or what “A.A.” meant. The sun now took over from the stars. It began pelting the expanse of land with warm, bright, life-giving rays. Even though the studio still smoldered an easterly wind grew up from the ground as if it were time to cool down the ashes while leaving a huge black mess for humans to sort out. The smell of burnt wood

always delighted me—reminded me of when I was thirteen and my folks would burn wood in the fireplace. This time though no wood in the fireplace, no folks to enjoy the smell, no nostalgic atmosphere. Now it would be just be me plus three bodies in addition to those damned A.A. initials! My mind reeled with thoughts of my tormentor, particularly why he or she had chosen me, I came across what appeared to be a tape recorder hidden in one of the few drawers still in tact near what used to resemble a desk. I thought, “Yeah Mark, you’re going to press that play button and magically it’ll work you’ll have a message from A.A. Life always surprises me when I least expect it. I did press, “play.” Ironically there was a message from A.A. The message was both eerie and laughable in an odd-horrific way.

“To whom it may concern; My name is Araian Ayers, or is it Alfred Almonse, or is it Al Albatross, or Alfred from the Batman movies? In any case I’m going to cause havoc with this Shit hole of a town. Yes… I am the murderer you seek but you’ll never catch me. You’ll be confused and befuddled at all I can and will do. You see, I love killing! I mean I REALLY LOVE KILLING!! And I’ve been doing this for a number of years and—guess what—I’m still doing it, and you will NEVER CATCH ME!! NEVER EVER CATCH ME!! Oh, and before I go, I want to leave a message for Mark Street. “Only a true spirit can create true horror!” Sound familiar Mark? I have a lot of friends; both living and dead, and you of course will be one of the dead, very, very soon. Ain’t life grand??? A.A.

The name Araian Ayers now struck a chord with my memory. I began to think back to when and where I might have seen or even met this… this… person. It suddenly occurred to me that the name Ayers had been a very prominent in the history of Bonestown, but not in a good way. Andrew Ayers tried to buy Bonestown years back but didn’t succeed. He tried to bribe the city officials then tried blackmail to get his way. Nothing worked. Ayers even tried kidnapping one

prominent city official. That didn’t work. The police caught him in the act. He managed to have other people do his dastardly deeds and eventually his case was thrown out. I think he had three kids and one of them is still alive. If that’s true… maybe… just maybe that’s my tormentor. The other two kids were killed with Andrew when his car blew up as Andrew arrived at the courthouse for a hearing. There were rumors that the elder Ayers may have had connections with, as we used to call them, “The Bonestown Twelve.” That organization had dealings with a bigger and more powerful group that, well, weren’t quite on the up and up. With what had happened to me of late, I’d started to wonder if all this could be related somehow to “The Bonestown Twelve,” if they still existed in another form. I hadn’t heard recently of anything like what the, B.T.’s as we used to call them, used to do in my dealings with the Indians or the city of Bonestown, but then again I don’t know everything that had or is happening at Bonestown. But… you know maybe it’s time I did. If I can just figure out this mess, most of all figure out a way I can save my skin and my reputation. Right now I need to find out if Ayers is the A.A. that’s been causing all these problems. In my thirst for who is behind all this, I neglected to realize that I hadn’t eaten in days. My body started to show signs of deteriorating. The bright sun burn through the debris of the studio in such a way that it made the area much hotter than I wanted. Off in the distance I could see a conglomeration of evergreen trees. Those trees would give me solace even a place to relax, but I also needed food. Then I ed that Easy Pete had a refrigerator in the back of his studio, he always filled with food. Easy Pete was a big man but always had Twinkies or cookies, or anything like that stuffed in the refrigerator along with sandwiches, beer, and lots of cheese. I walked to the back of the studio found the refrigerator but didn’t expect to find it on the ground with the door-apparently-blown off along with what was left of the contents strewn all over. Sure enough, Twinkies were scattered in bits and pieces throughout the room. There happened to be a cake that laid on a perpetual tray half-off of one of the shelves. It smelled like lemon cake, but it shouldn’t be eaten by anyone. Quite a few pieces of burnt wood penetrated its core. Some Twinkies managed to survive. I guess what they say about Twinkies is truethey’ll last forever, even through a fire. I tore off the wrapper as I gobbled them up. Now somewhat satisfied with the meager meal, I pursued the task at hand. Where could I find A.A.? I’d been fairly good at investigating things when at a

younger age I could always find Christmas presents that had been hidden from me with no trouble at all. But that was a long time ago. I’m not a kid anymore plus this is a lot more serious than finding Christmas presents. Nevertheless, I had to start somewhere, so I went back to study the note that A.A. left. The paper appeared thicker than what you’d find in an office, it also had some sort of insignia at the top of the page, but most of it had burned off in the fire. Something unusual about the insignia caught my attention; its colors were maroon and yellow. In Bonestown there is only one insignia that contains those colors—the Ayers family crest. I knew who my tormenter was, now possibly who also killed the Sheriff abducted and brutally killed Kathy. I had what I needed the name of the evil that killed Kathy and Andy. Now I knew where to look. My emotions took over. I took the note ran out of the studio back to town as a large cloud of ashen smoke hovered over what I assumed was the sheriff’s office. Within about an hour I’d made it to the sheriff’s office. Hiding behind a dumpster across the street I watched Stensen talking to the paramedics. They were loading two dead bodies into their vehicle. “Aw… Shit!! I said, comprehending that the two dead bodies were Hank and Ralph. At first the thought of Hank and Ralph being dead hampered my thinking in addition the thought of two more officers dead proved very disheartening and frustrating. Fortunately, I became aware that the only people that thought I’d killed the Sheriff and Kathy were dead. “I was free!!” Nobody else knew what the officers discovered. Now inside of a paramedics unit on the way to the morgue no one would know anything. I’d been given a real chance of finding Araian Ayers. About this time I felt what I assumed was a gun touching the back of my skull with the words, “What the hell are you doing here?” quietly touching my ears-I knew her voice. Beverly Poe had the voice of a man when it came to confronting people. That deep voice of hers is one of the results of someone undergoing a transformation in appearance and physical attributes. “Hi Beverly,” I said as I raised my hands over my head, stood up turning around in the process of talking to her. “Didn’t we tell you to get away from here?” “Well… yeah but I… I had to see if the smoke and fire were actually from the sheriff’s office.”

“Well now you have so get your ass out of here—now!” “Ah… I think you might want to read this before, as you say it, “I get my ass out of here.” “What is this?” “Just take a look at it, I think it’s the guy that burned down Easy Pete’s and the sheriff’s office.” “And how did you come across this?” “It was in one of the drawers of a desk in Easy Pete’s.” She glanced up from reading the note giving me a stare as though she were saying to herself, “Don’t push me you moron!” “This is just a note from some weirdo-it means nothing!” “It will when I tell you what I’ve gone through these past few days.” “I think you and I should talk to Stensen about this.” “So you do believe me.” “Not so fast Mark, I don’t believe anything or anyone until I can prove what their telling me is legitimate. And so far this means nothing to me other than a note by some bum or weirdo. Now move your ass. We’ll go over and talk to Stensen about this little note of yours. For all I know, you could have written this to avoid prosecution for possibly damaging a crime scene.” As we walked across the street I saw something written on the front door of what remained of the sheriff’s office; it said, “Only a true spirit can create true horror.” I almost collapsed when I saw that but had the presence of mind to stay as calm as possible. I didn’t want Stenson or Beverly to know that I knew something about that statement-at least not yet. It wasn’t time for anyone to know how that phrase affects me-not until I get a hold of Araian Ayers and find out what is going on with him and his desire to taunt me. We walked up to Stensen from behind. Beverly tapped him on the shoulder. He

turned giving me one of those, “What the hell are you doing here?” looks. “You idiot! What the hell do you want? Oh… wait let me answer that for you, you want to be arrested for impeding a fire and a crime scene investigation— right?” “Stensen,” Beverly said, “What do you think of this?” She handed him the note. He read it with less enthusiasm as Beverly. “So what? Where did you find this?” “I didn’t,” Beverly said, “The moron did.” “You-you found this? Where?” “He says he found it in a desk drawer of Easy Pete’s place,” Beverly said, “And look at the top of the note.” Stensen looked at the insignia. I could tell that something triggered in his mind; it wasn’t pleasant. He looked at me as if he were a child that had just been disciplined afraid to look at his disciplinarian. “You… you’re interfering in something you know nothing about. You could end up being hurt. Why do you think we wanted you away from here?” I looked at him and said, “You know something don’t you?” “Do you know Araian Ayers?” “Ah… no one really knows Ayers. He’s just a guy…” Suddenly a bright flash with an explosion knocked all of us on our backs. The next thing I knew I was gazing up at multiple-holed ceiling tile. Hospitals and I never got along. I had no memory of what I was doing here plus no memory of a previous life. It seemed as if I’d just been born. A nurse sat in a chair beside my bed. She heard me wake up. Apparently, I jerked awake making enough noise to get her attention. “Hi, I’m Nurse Waxman, how are we doing today?” “You’ve been out for a good six hours. I just started my shift here now you’re awake and responding to me. I’d like to think I had something to do with that, but I think a higher source is at work here.” “Where am I?” I asked “Silly, you’re in St. Anne’s Hospital. Don’t worry I’m going to take very good

care of you.” “Now, we need to find out who you are. You’re clothes were burned quite badly. All of us here were quite concerned about how you’d respond to treatment, but you seem to be fine right now; so if I can get your name I’ll call Dr. Lorenze she can talk to you about how you came to be here.” “I… I don’t know… I… can’t anything.” “Well, I’m not surprised. You took quite a wallop on your head. I would imagine the burns on the rest of your body aren’t exactly… well… let’s just say you took quite a jolt from what appears to be an explosion, or at least that’s what Dr. Lorenze thinks happened to you. “You mean you don’t know if it was an explosion or not,” I said as I began to remove the sheets to see for myself how badly I’d been hurt. Ah… we can’t have anything like that,” Nurse Waxman said as she came over quickly stopping me from examining the burns. “Let me get a hold of Dr. Lorenze. “She can tell you everything she knows about your case. And don’t take off those blankets.” She left. I immediately threw off the covers shocked at what I found-nothing, nothing but a wrapped chest and legs. No evidence of burns; although my chest and legs hurt like hell. I never did speak to Dr. Lorenze, I guess I wasn’t a priority on her list. Not knowing who you are is odd at best, you’re in a hospital with people you don’t know trying to put you back together and you have no relocation of what happened to put you here.

Chapter 23

“Crazy Ray”

It had been about a year since I left in the hospital. The six months I spent there were horrible. My legs didn’t work so I had to learn to walk again. What an experience! I did regain my memory, well most of it. I still don’t know if I was married, although the wedding ring on my finger suggests otherwise. An election for Sheriff was in the planning stages so I decided that I might be good at that job especially since no one else wanted it. The election came and went. I’d been elected Sheriff of Silver Creek by a majority vote. I don’t know much about being a Sheriff, but there is one thing I know for sure Araian Ayers had a hand in me being in the hospital. I don’t know how I know this but it is so well ingrained in my consciousness Ayers himself couldn’t blast it out of there. My job now is to find that S.O.B. and throw him in jail. I’d just returned from surveying my land that had been burned in Cactus Line, Arizona. Cactus Line is about five miles from Bonestown. The two towns tend to overlap borders, so people sometimes get confused about where each town ends. Police in Cactus Line said it could have been kids playing with matches, but I had other ideas on who it might be that wanted to destroy my property-Araian Ayers. When I started buying land here years ago, naturally their was plenty of nonIndian land to buy and sell, so the thought of buying Indian land never entered my mind or anyone else’s for that matter. But, as I grew in age along with my portfolio of land assets I hungered for new opportunities in land development. I’d always been friends with the Indian’s that frequent Bonestown; after all when you grow up next to an Indian reservation you do tend to become friends with Indians. The Indians in this part of Arizona are very friendly to as they say, “the white man.” They don’t have to be, after all, we took their land it’s not like they owe us anything, but they are smart people, they know that to survive we must both work together. There are those white people in addition to those Indian’s

that take advantage of the situation. That’s what usually happens when I try to make deals on land that the Indians own. Most of the time I’m the one taking advantage of the situation. I guess when I see a piece of land I have to have ithave to have it at my price. That’s what usually gets me in trouble. Wheeling and dealing is what I’m good at when buying land. Most of the Indian’s I deal with don’t like that. They have a set price that’s what they want for the land. But their asking price is way too high, so naturally I have to haggle. But, when I met Crazy Ray Running Bear I should have known I’d be in for trouble, especially with a name like that. He wore either a Phoenix Suns T-shirt, or a T-shirt that had a symbol on the front—that he created-proclaiming the prowess of his manhood, and usually wore jeans that were razor sharp pressed. Crazy Ray as he likes to be called, liked to buy land around the reservation just so he could sell it to “white men” at inflated prices. Well, at least I thought they were inflated prices. He is a strange Indian, but a wise Indian in the ways of the desert. He also knows what you can and can’t do to survive the hot summer in Arizona. True to his Indian nature he lives in the desert, but not in an adobe dwelling as some people might expect. He lives in a trailer that looks as though it has been through three wars not surviving any of them very well. I asked him once why he lives there when he could easily afford a nice house. His reply was, “Hey man, why I should I live like everybody else. I’m unique. I like that. People nowadays take being the same for granted. There’s too much of the “same” around. You know what I mean man?” “Yeah I know.” There was one thing very odd about Crazy Ray; he always carried a beautifully carved tomahawk with him wherever he went. I asked him about where he got it he said, “He didn’t buy it, he made it to ward off evil spirits.” I’d never heard of a tomahawk warding off evil spirits but then again Crazy Ray wasn’t your normal Indian either. He said that once he had fallen asleep sitting in his wicker chair outside his trailer one night. Something strange happened that he would never forget. Now with Crazy Ray you never know if he’s telling you the truth or just making up something to show you how clever and intelligent he is. This story however, if indeed it is just a story, is a pretty damn good one. I

doubt that Crazy Ray even in his drunken days could make up something like this. According to Ray the night was very quiet, more so than usual for this time of year. He didn’t really pay any attention to it; weird things always happen in around the Indian reservation, after all there are burial grounds within miles in any direction. But this night would turn out to be quite different. The sounds of the desert were gone; no coyotes, no wind, not even the heat that usually comes in a hot summer night—none of that was present. What had taken its place wasn’t anything expected for this area of Arizona. It all started when Crazy Ray dozed off. Ray described that he’d been jolted awake by something trying to pull apart his chair, he jumped up then immediately was pushed back down into the splintered chair by some unseen force. As some of the splinters jabbed through his lower back and thigh, blood seeped from the wounds but Crazy Ray wasn’t concerned or so he said. He looked down not expecting to see that his chair was just hanging together by a few loosely woven strands of light fiber-like material. But what he saw below the chair shook him through every particle of his being. He surmised that he was at least fifty to sixty feet above his trailer with no visible means of except for the chair, which was slowly disintegrating the farther up toward the clouds it raced. Crazy Ray said he wanted to jump off but the escalating distance to the ground made him decide otherwise. He thought that it had to be a bad dream of some kind. He thought to himself, “Way too much booze and coke tonight Ray, you’ve really done it this time. No more drinking for you man—no way!” As the chair started to burst into flames Crazy Ray ed out. They found him three days later on the other side of the Indian reservation. His face looked like he’d fallen asleep with his head on a stove burner. Part of his back and legs had been fused together with what looked like part of the wicker chair. Aside from that, his right leg had been torn off at the knee. Later that day the doc, Jasmine Armwell, said it looked like his leg had been chewed off by an alligator or something with teeth the shape as well as the size of an alligator. When he told me that story I said, “Yeah Ray you’ve been smoking too much weed. I told you to cut back on that or you’re going to start seeing things that aren’t there now look what happened. “Man… I’m telling you that’s what happened… I think that’s what happened.”

“Okay Crazy Ray you say all that happened right? “Yeah… I’m positive it did.” “Well then Mr. Running Bear, I’m talking to you now you’re in shorts and your leg looks fine, it doesn’t look like it has ever had even a scratch, so what happened to your leg? What he said next almost knocked me square on my back. He said, “No man, nothing like that… it… it just grew back! Hey, don’t look at me like that I don’t know what the hell happened… it just grew back!!” “It grew back huh?” I said, with the distain of a man who’d just seen a very poor magic trick performed as though it were something miraculous. “Hey man, if you don’t believe that… then you’ll never believe this.” Crazy Ray told me about what happened during the three weeks he recuperated from his adventure. He doesn’t believe in going to hospitals something to do with to many white walls; too many people wanting to poke him all the time with needles. So, he went to his tribe’s doctor for advice and lotions to help ease the pain of his leg. I interrupted him and said—in a tone reminiscent of disbelief, “don’t you mean you went to your medicine man?” He said, “We’re the hell you been man, that name went out with fifty’s fins on cars and leisure suits. Just because we live on the reservation doesn’t mean I’m that far behind the times. Look man after I talked to the doc about my leg, she drove me back to my trailer. While we were coming back from doc’s place I was riding in the back of doc’s old truck. I could swear I saw spirits floating behind us trying to catch up to the truck.” One of them had a tomahawk-man I’ll never forget what I saw on that tomahawk. Man I still have nightmares about that look at my arms. Hey I’m an Indian and I’m getting goose bumps Damn it! Imagine that goose-bumps!” “What did you see?” “I… I saw myself carved in the tomahawk. I mean I saw my head carved on the tomahawk. It was spooky. The spirits got closer to the truck as the carving started to swell up bigger and bigger until it was the size of a human head.” “Oh man the next thing that happened literally made me shit my pants.”

“What? What happened?” I started to believe some of what he was talking about. I really don’t know why, maybe it’s his demeanor, or the fact that he is so enthusiastic, but something about his story began to sound like it may have happened. I was just hoping he wouldn’t yell, “gotcha!” and start laughing. “The face on the tomahawk started talking… talking to me! I didn’t understand what it said. I think I was too damn afraid to understand anything. But the weirdest thing happened to me the next day. I got out of bed then without recognizing it walked over to the coffee pot and started to make coffee. It wasn’t until I sat down on the couch that I realized that my leg had grown back.” “You think those spirits healed you’re leg?” I asked, somewhat hesitant about his response all the while wondering why I’d succumbed to his story. “Hey man I don’t know anything about spirits. I don’t want to know anything about spirits. I told doc about it. She said that sometimes spirits show themselves to people in trouble and help them. I didn’t want their help and I don’t want to see any more spirits until I’m dead. That’s why doc showed me how to make this tomahawk. She swears it’ll ward off any evil spirits, or any spirits of any kind for that matter.” “A tomahawk to ward off spirits?” I asked, now beginning to doubt my previous thoughts. “Hey… All I can tell you man is what happened. What do you know anyway— you’re just a white man. You don’t know the ways of the Indian. I don’t know why I even talk to you!” Crazy Ray tends to get rebellious when people, especially me, don’t believe what he’s talking about. By now I was so confused I wasn’t sure if he made all this up, or if it really happened. For the next few weeks Crazy Ray wouldn’t go anywhere without that tomahawk. As his name implies he may be crazy, but the way life is today, you never really know what spirits really are, what they can or can’t do, so I took what he told me as the truth-until I could prove that it wasn’t. The jovial side of Crazy Ray likes to play tricks on the tourists. He had this show were he would tell the tourists that he’d caught the spirit of the “Lost Whiteman Cavern.” That name should have been a dead give away but every year the tourists came just to see this cavern and the spirit he said he’d caught. It was really a good show. To this day he still hasn’t shown me how he makes the spirit

appear float through the tourists and back into the walls of the cavern. It’s got to be some sort of holographic image combined with virtual reality or something like that. In spite of that he still is one stubborn Indian when it comes to selling his land. It’s not like I’m going desecrate the land or anything like that. His unwillingness to sell that land confuses me. It doesn’t have any value to his people or to him for that matter; you can’t grow anything on it, the only thing it’s good for is commercial construction. I’ve known this Indian for quite a few years now you’d think he’d know what I want plus what I need when I want to buy a piece of land he’s got for sale. We always have to haggle on the price no matter how cheap or expensive the land is. I swear he has the devil himself in him every time we negotiate for land. Ah… but then there’s Natalie Flower Fox. She’s a young very attractive Indian that also owns land nearby. Now we seem to get along fairly well. Maybe it’s because I saved her father Chief Iron Fox from getting hit by a drunk driver one day or maybe it’s because we like each other-a lot, I mean A LOT!! The only problem with her is that after I buy land from her well… she… she… always thinks that I want more than just the land… she thinks along the lines of marriage. Well, I’m not interested in that with Natalie. Don’t get me wrong like I said I like her a lot maybe even love her but after my first marriage getting married again is not something I want or need right now. Especially with my somewhat tarnished reputation with the other Indian landowners around here. It’s funny even though I saved her fathers life that day he still doesn’t like me buying land from his daughter. I guess my reputation preceded me. He keeps telling me, “One day the spirit’s will teach you a lesson-beware of the spirit’s.” At first I believed what he said, you know respect for your elders and all, but after talking with Natalie she said that, “He says that to most white men that take an interest in me he just wants to try and scare the white man away from me. You know he doesn’t want a white mans blood mixing with and Indian’s, if you know what I mean.”

Chapter 24

“The Chase and Araian Ayers”

I knew what kind of car Ayers drove, an old beat-up pick-up. He’d never use his Caddy for this sort of thing. The next day I drove out of town hunting for Ayers trying to grasp why all the people were at the bar, then it came to me— confusion. Ayers wanted lot’s of people there so that when he showed up looking for me hoping a fight would break out there’d be so much confusion that nobody would really know what happened. That way he could escape. He’s that kind of guy. Ayers is odd, he never stays long in town. No one knows where he lives, but I have to catch him and bring him to justice. So I thought of a plan to draw him out as well as a way for him to play into my hands. Some of the town’s folk said he’s a very impatient man. He likes things to go his way right away, if they don’t he wants to find out why right away. I know this town like the back of my hand but I don’t know Ayers as well. But I know his type. He’s a son-of-a-bitch that always seems to cause trouble for no reason at all-he just likes it, na… enjoys it. He gets pleasure from it. I knew Ayers would be going back to town. I wasn’t there when he came for me at the bar so if he really wants me he’ll be back. However, I’m smarter than “The wonder ass hole Ayers,” my nickname for him. I’m about to prove it to him. There is a patch of trees alongside the freeway that leads into town Ayers never goes into that area. He’s afraid of that spot. Some say it’s something to do with the trees, something that happened to him when he was a kid, but no one will talk about it. I don’t know what happened back then and don’t really care, but I’ll be waiting for him there when he can’t stand the fact that I haven’t come after him and bolts back toward the bar. The whine of sirens came toward me. I knew that Harlan would be barreling down I-23 speeding toward Ayers place. I knew how crazy Ayers could be: judging by what he’d done to Jesse. So I turned on my sirens spun out of the small forest onto I23 after Harlan. All I could see of him were his flashing lights ahead. I stepped on the gas while my cruiser jumped forward. As I got closer to the lights of his cruiser a huge plume of dust came across the roadway obstructing my view. I

heard the sound of a car crashing into something. My first thoughts were, “Oh Shit! He’s run into Ayers!” I slowed down as I approached the plume. I had to come to a complete stop. My vision was limited. I couldn’t see three feet in front of me. There’s no sense having two lawmen down. I tried to call into base but got static. A few minutes later the dust cleared. There ahead of me was Harlan’s cruiser-lights flashing. It had been in an accident all right but there weren’t any other vehicles around. I got out of the car pulled my gun out of its holster slowly walking up to Harlan’s cruiser. I looked inside. The interior had been covered with blood but no body, no evidence of any kind, other than blood. I did a three-sixty looking for any sign of another vehicle or another person. Nothing! It’s as if that dust storm had wiped everything clean except for the car and the blood. “Okay, now this is weird,” I thought as I returned my gun to its holster then strolled back toward my car. I’d seen some weird things in Bonestown; like the time Carl James had his foot caught in a bear trap, we had to amputate it, only to find out three days later that his foot had grown back good as new. Or the time Sara Switcher was found in the woods with all her hair chopped off only to have it grow back on the back of her head two weeks later. She went crazy after that. They keep her up at Beckenshaw Home for the Mentally Challenged. “But this… this is something else.” Before I entered my cruiser I did another three-sixty finding nothing just an unusually strong wind coming from the north. Trees seemed to be announcing their resistance to the wind more vibrantly than usual. I got in the car drove around Harlan’s cruiser up the road searching for Ayers. I knew he had to be involved in that wreck somehow. I also knew when I found him I’d find out why Harlan wasn’t in the car or if Harlan would still be alive. I drove about a half mile when something in my rear view mirror caught my eye almost careening off the road as a result of taking my eyes off the blacktop ahead moreover what I’d seen. Bringing the car to a stop just before going off the road then I pulled a flashlight from the glove box, flipped the on switch and got out. Looking back at Harlan’s car a saw a man standing by the driver’s side of the car. Well, I thought it looked like a man. It was hard to tell when all you see is a body without a head. The light of the town beyond silhouetted the body. At first I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, after all I’d heard a car crash saw blood on the interior of Harlan’s cruiser, but no Harlan and no second car. Now just a headless body. If the Indians were here they’d say I’d been drinking some bad water but I knew

better. Then it donned on me; “This has got to be Ayers playing with me trying to make me think I’m going crazy. Well he’s not going to succeed at his little game.” I walked toward the headless man standing by the side of the car. As I got closer to him he became more clear, more frightening. If Ayers had set this up he knew what he was doing and had created a very realistic body, complete with blood spurting and oozing from the neck. I walked around the body looking at every detail trying to see if the body was real or just something Ayers made to try to scare me away. This was definitely a dead body not a special effect. But how it managed to stand was beyond me, since this road slopes any man would have to brace himself on the car if he wanted to stand upright, just as I was doing. I thought about touching the body; I guess curiosity got the better of me when it started to freeze. It took about three seconds then the body had frozen solid. That seemed odd to me because the temperature in this town tonight is around fifty degrees nowhere near freezing. Seconds later it burst into flames then vanished leaving only ashes in its place. “This isn’t real! It just doesn’t happen! It’s got to be that damn Ayers!” The sounds of something splintering stopped me in my tracks. I looked at Harlan’s cruiser. It had started to freeze just like the headless body. I jumped back almost fell flat on my ass, and watched as the car froze solid. However, freezing solid is all it did, no flame, nothing else. The beam from my flashlight blanketed the inside of the car as I moved. It searched, searched for something, some evidence… of… something violent. I don’t know what I expected to see but I didn’t expect what I saw. On the bench seat sat Harlan with knife wounds all over his body, blood rolling out of each wound. Without thinking I grabbed for the door of the cruiser. But before I could open it the car faded away while I fell face down on the cold pavement. “Shit!” I said, sitting up and wiping the blood and pebbles from my face. “What the hell is going on here? Ayers if you can hear me you’ve done one hell of a job trying to scare me but it’s not going to work, I’m gonna kill your sorry ass. You’re gonna pay for killing Harlan and Jesse. There isn’t gonna be a place you can hide that I won’t know about you sorry son-of-a-bitch!” I got up and walked back to my cruiser. The flashlight died as I opened the door and threw it on the seat. While getting in my cruiser I shoved my gun back into the holster then drove off toward the old Miller place about five miles away. I’d

heard that Ayers might have stayed there from time to time and figured he had to be close by in order to pull off that stunt. The Miller place had been deserted for about twenty years ever since Miller killed his young bride and himself in that house. It’s odd; he was one of the nicest guys in town. From what I’ve been told he gave to charities every year, helped start the hospital, built the school and the university, but then one day he just went crazy—just out of the blue. I guess having all that money got to him. The Miller place is a huge ranch house with a guesthouse off to one side. Ayers had been seen in the guesthouse so I’ll start there. As I pulled up to the Miller place I noticed that the doors to both the main house along with the guesthouse were wide open. They weren’t that way a week ago when I drove past here on my way into Rocking Way, Arizona, for a sheriff’s conference so I suspected that Ayers was living there or had been here. Maybe he’d be there, then maybe he’d try something stupid and I would have to shoot him—I can only hope. My gun came easy from its holster as I replaced the regular ammo with armor piercing ammo. Knowing how devious Ayers could be I wanted to be prepared for anything he might try. Easing out of the car I ran over to the right side of the guesthouse. “Ayers, you in there?” I didn’t hear anything except the whispering of the wind plus the knocking of the door against the wall. Ayers had to die, so I crouched down running through the door opening tumbling over on the plush green rug. I held the gun out in front of me with both hands looking around the house. It was empty. In fact the only thing that I could see in the house was a table with a piece of paper being held down on top of it by an old lantern. I grabbed the paper and read the note:

Well if it isn’t Sheriff Mark How you doing boy? Sorry I couldn’t be there to greet you But I had other pressing business. Oh by the way, in case you didn’t hear it,

When you picked up this lantern you started a timer

And if you look directly above your head you’ll see a bomb, yep a bomb Sheriff Mark. Oh… one more thing, don’t move, you’re standing on the trigger. If you move you’ll… well you’ll go bye, bye And if you don’t move in ten minutes you’ll die anyway, so you’re screwed. See ya in hell Mark You stupid asshole, you’ll never out smart me You’re too damn stupid! “Shit! Damn you Ayers!” Well he was right about one thing this time he did out smart me. But, I’m not dead yet. “Okay so if I move I’m dead and if I don’t move I’m dead.” I thought about what Ayers had written. He has to have someone to play sick games with. If I’m gone there is no one in town he can play games with, at least no one he thinks is smart enough to equal his intelligence. Therefore, one of the triggers has got to be a false trigger but the trick is to find which one. Shit! He’s not making this easy! “Think Mark! Think! If I were Ayers which trigger would be false? Okay he’d know that I couldn’t get to the bomb on the ceiling in time cause I can’t reach it without standing on something, and I didn’t hear any noise when I stood by this table. Of course the carpet could have muffled the noise. But then again there is nothing on the carpet that shows anything was changed; no cut marks, no change in color, no difference in pattern from the rest of the carpet.” I looked at my watch. I had five minutes left. “Shit! If Ayers was right about the timer I’ve got to do something fast! Ah… hell with it. I’ll go with the floor trigger.” I counted to ten then ran as fast as I could out of the guesthouse. Luckily my thinking proved to be correct about the trigger. Four minutes later a loud thunderous noise came from the house. The bomb in the ceiling blew as the roof of the guesthouse flew off shattering into small pieces that landed in a circular pattern around the grounds of the brick remains of the guesthouse. Part of the roof landed on my back and legs burned holes in my legs plus the lower part of

my back. I used the cell phone I had with me to call dispatch, the fire department also an ambulance. About ten minutes later one of the fire department trucks arrived followed by an ambulance. I had managed to tear off part of my uniform then tie it around the holes in my leg. Somehow I managed to brace my back against one of the beams that had been blown off of the roof to stop some of the pain. Before the emergency people arrived I picked up one of the boards noticing blood on it. It was dried blood. My thoughts went to the blood that I saw in Harlan’s cruiser. This blood might also be his or worse mine! Those thoughts were dispensed when Harlan came walking toward me without a scratch or cut on him. I knew then that this was all some kind of weird game Ayers played on me. “Harlan, it’s good to see you.” “Yeah Mark, it’s good to see you too. What happened here?” “Oh… it’s a long story I’ll tell you about it later.” As the paramedic’s tended to my injuries eventually putting me on a gurney, which they quickly inserted into the ambulance, I looked around for Harlan’s cruiser then asked, “Harlan where’s your cruiser?” He hemmed and hawed a little so I asked him again, “Harlan where’s your cruiser?” “Well Mark, I… it… it was stolen.” “Stolen?” I asked. “How did your cruiser get stolen?” “I was eating at Mary Zachary’s Diner like I usually do. I went to the bathroom when I finished I came out, paid the bill, went outside and it was gone. I lock it every time I leave. There were plenty of people there so somebody must have seen something, but I can’t find anyone who saw anything.” “Well Harlan I think I know what might have happened to your cruiser. Meet me at the hospital. When the doc’s are through with me I’ll tell you about what’s been happening to me tonight.” When Harlan showed up at the hospital the midnight chirping of birds caught my attention, I wanted to leave so bad I could taste it. I told him what had happened, of course, it took him by surprise. My thoughts were to continue the hunt for Ayers but Harlan suggested that I’d had enough for one day. Sleep would be better than anything right now. Every once and a while Harlan comes up with a very logical, profound statement. Harlan wheeled me out of the hospital into his car. I wanted to take mine as I began to pressure him into letting me drive home. But Harlan knew me well. That idea didn’t get the response I’d hoped for, so I

put aside my pride got in his car for the short ride to my place. While Harlan drove I thought about how close I’d come to death at my age more importantly if staying in this line of work was worth all the hassles I had to endure as the sheriff of Bonestown, Arizona. After all, I didn’t really have anyone here, I had no girlfriend, just had some good friends, but nobody that I could say meant a lot to me except for Harlan. Time goes by so fast nowadays that you tend to want that closeness in your life. Maybe it is just my age creeping up on me or almost getting blown to bits shook some sense into me, I don’t know, but I seemed to be looking at things differently. Life seemed more precious to me now. I wanted more financial freedom to do what I wanted when I wanted. More and more thoughts about what my future might hold as Harlan drove into the parking lot of my apartment complex and into my parking stall plagued me. I gingerly got out of the car as Harlan walked around helping me up the flight of stairs to my apartment. I thanked Harlan for his help unlocked the door and went inside. It had been long day. All I wanted to do was to relax. I got into my comfy easy chair while I picked up the remote for the T.V. What usually happens when I start watching T.V. happened again; I feel asleep before the end of the show. I heard my phone ringing turned over looking at the alarm clock on the nightstand, which read ten o’clock then grabbed the receiver. Harlan was on the other end. He seemed distant as though he wanted to tell me something but wasn’t sure if he should. Something told me it would be one of those things that needed to be discussed. It seemed as though he wanted to tell me desperately but afraid of how I might react if he did. Finally he said, “Well Mark, its, its Ayers… somebody spotted him in town, they said he was looking for you.” “Yeah, I’ll bet he was looking for me! Where are you now Harlan?” “I’m at dispatch.” “Okay come pick me up, then drop me off at my car on the way. Tell me what you know about where Ayers is when you pick me up I’ll take it from there. Oh and by the way, take me back to Miller’s place by way of Sheepherders Trail. That way Ayers won’t see us maybe I can take him by surprise. Harlan picked me up shortly thereafter delivering me to my car at the Miller’s place. Hobbling into my cruiser wasn’t easy but I did it, started it up then drove back toward town as fast as I could. At the edge of town I stopped. Parked at the top of the hill that led into town there I could see some kind of commotion outside “The Easy Street Bar and Grill.” Of course it could only be Ayers with his band of dumb witted cohorts. The lights from Harlan’s cruiser shown through the dusty haze

like a lighthouse light guiding a wayward ship home. An uneasy feeling came over me. The more I looked at what was happening, the more I wanted a different life. The prospect of becoming a full time real estate agent seemed better looking the more I dwelled on it. The first that had to be done was bringing Ayers to justice before he did anything else to anyone. That would be my last claim to fame-even if it killed me. Starting up the cruiser, I pressed the gas pedal to the floor, turned on the siren, lights, then shifted into gear while the cruiser flew into the air soaring down the hill like a cannonball being shot out of a cannon with immediate desire. My cruiser came crashing down on the pavement at the end of the hill. Something told me the steering system had been severely damaged; it seemed to want to do the opposite of what I wanted. Swerving back and forth across the street, just missing car after car, I finally ended up crashing into one of the trash bins outside of the “Easy Street Bar & Grill.” Naturally I drew a lot of attention, just what I wanted to do, and just enough attention to let Ayers know that I’d arrived in search of killing an evil, the evil named Ayers. I knew I couldn’t wobble out of the car so my talents had turned to do one hell of an acting job if I wanted to convince Ayers that all of sheriff Mark Street would be the last thing he saw in his miserable life. I took my shotgun pushed the door open and bolted from the cruiser. I stood straight up walked in a deliberate and forceful manner toward the front of the bar. I could see Ayers leaning against one column of the entryway with a toothpick dangling from his mouth. His wimpy body looked almost comical if it hadn’t been for the fortyfour-magnum he twirled in his right hand. Buddies of his were standing in the entryway behind him with their machine guns at their sides. Harlan stood on the other side of his open drivers side door with his gun raised pointed at Ayers. If I didn’t handle things right I’d be splattered all over the dirt parking lot before night turned to day. “Well if it isn’t the Sheriff Mark,” Ayers said. “I thought you blew yourself up back at Miller’s place.” “Well as usual Ayers your wrong! What are you and your boys doing here?” “Well hell sheriff you don’t know what were doing here? Damn! I thought you were smarter than that. Hey boys didn’t you think sheriff Mark here was smarter

than that?” They just nodded. They never talked. Rumor has it that they talked once and Ayers cut their tongues out. “Hell sheriff I’ll make it easy on you. We killed Jesse we tried to kill your buddy Harlan over there, but I guess he was just too fast for us. So, sheriff Mark we’re here to surrender.” Then Ayers did something I didn’t expect, he put down his weapon telling his buddies to put theirs down then all of them came over to me, turned around, fell to their knees, placed their hands on top of their heads, ready for me to hand cuff them. This had to be another trick, but I wasn’t about to let the chance me by. Harlan and I quickly handcuffed all of them and called dispatch to send another unit to transport them to jail. Ayers was up to something but I didn’t know what. Someone like him doesn’t give up; it’s not in his nature. When the other unit arrived I watched as the three monsters were put in the back seat. Then as the unit drove off toward town I watched and saw Ayers turn, look at me through the back window and lift his hands up, his un-cuffed hands.

Chapter 25

“Examination of the Soul”

While I watched Ayers flaunting his ability at lock picking I started to call to the unit carrying Ayers to tell them that Ayers had managed to free himself, when Ayers became blurry. I rubbed my eyes subsequently looking back at the unit-it had stopped. The doors were open and no one inside. Ayers and his gang had escaped apparently taking Jason Firm, another deputy of mine, with them. I stopped my cruiser before running back to Jason’s unit looking for any sign of where they might have gone or any evidence. By this time Harlan had run over and began searching the grounds around the car for evidence. After a few minutes neither one of us found anything. Judging by what had happened to me the night before, I began to think that maybe I should re-examine the spot where I saw the vanishing car and headless man. Maybe I missed something or I didn’t search far enough into the woods nearby. I let Harlan know of my plans then told him to stay here. Hopefully he could do better than I did at finding evidence. Ayers had planned something-I knew it to the very depths of my soul. I had to find out what he’d planned before anymore people were hurt. My search began in the expanse that started all of these weird visions. When I reached Harlan’s crash site the particles of ice that were there the night before had been blown away by the winds that often buffet through this town at night. Getting out of my cruiser I went to the trunk secured my sawedoff shotgun as I ventured off into the woods hoping I’d find anything that would point to Ayers. About twenty feet inside away from the outside tree line a clearing unlike anything made by nature became visible. It reminded me of those crop circles that people have seen over the years. A definite circular shape became evident the more I walked into the clearing. The foliage on the ground had been trampled but not broken. A light came down from the tops of the trees, but no visible opening in the trees to let sunlight in, which seemed very eerie. It looked like the trees branches had bent down to form a roof of sorts over this depression.

“Well this is strange,” I thought turning around to go another direction then it became obvious that I was imprisoned. There weren’t any visible openings. The trees seemed to have grown together to seal off this section. “Oh Shit! This is ridiculous! They’re only trees! Hell I can blow a hole in them a mile wide with this shotgun, that’ll make an exit!” The shotgun came easily to my hands as I leveled it at one of the tree trunks and was about to pull the trigger, when a bright flash of light flew from one of the trees knocking the shotgun into one of the other trees.” It scared the hell out of me! Then I heard it. A sound I heard only once before. It was the sound of a rabid wolf or dog coming from behind me. Fear took hold of my desires. But curiosity also took over while I slowly turned around. What I saw sent shivers-cold as ice-through my body. It was a wolf. The foam on his mouth looked dirty and infected. But his fur blurred with a white almost ghostly appearance. He just stood there, head down ready to pounce on me at any second if I moved. I’d never felt so helpless. My shotgun had been blasted out of my hand. Suddenly, the thought of my pistol came to me. “Now if I can just get it and fire before that wolf jumps I may just survive this,” Slowly I reached down toward my gun. The wolf started to growl. I froze. He looked like he would jump if I took another breath. My mind reeled with ideas of what to do next when something slowly materialize next to the wolf. It turned into an old Indian on a horse-he wasn’t happy. His lips moved but I couldn’t hear anything. I knew he was trying to tell me something, but I couldn’t hear anything. Finally, the words came as he spoke. I didn’t like what he had to say,

“White man, be careful what you do. Your time and life are in jeopardy. If you continue down this path, you will receive much pain and sorrow.”

With that said the Indian, the horse and the wolf vanished into air as the circular clearing returned to normal. Trees straightened to their normal height. An object fell on the ground next to me—my gun had been returned. The best thing to do is

to grab my shotgun and get the hell out of this place. Razor Rock Lake seemed like miles away when in reality it meandered only about a mile away. When I needed to get away from things and relax, I could always go to the lake, sit on the dock as the water flowed up on the shore then pull back as if some unseen hand had been controlling its movement. The water would calm my jittery nerves, it also is a good place to think, especially after what I’ve just experienced. The strap on my shotgun fit snug over my shoulder as I put it on quickly heading toward the lake. By the time I got there it was a little past one in the afternoon while my stomach groaned. A ranger station stood about a halfmile away from the dock. Sam Street would usually have something to eat or drink. Sam and I are brothers. Although I never approved of his alternate lifestyle I never interfered with it. Everyone has a right to live their life the way they want, just as long as they don’t break the law I’m fine with it. We went to college at the same time. Of course, at that time, being a young man my desires were for more consequently dropping out after the first year seemed to be good for me, but Sam went on to become a Forest Ranger. Years had ed since I’d seen him. Sam is a quiet guy, tends to keep to himself. He’s got a cabin up here, but he usually stays in the Ranger Station. Every once and a while he comes into town for food maybe to catch a movie or two or maybe even see me. Boy will he be surprised to lay eyes on me after so long. I hiked up to the Ranger Station and knocked on the door. The aroma of freshly baked cookies wafting through the open window near the front door caught my attention. Sam’s voice, soft and low echoed, “Who is it?” “It’s me sheriff Mark.” I heard a bowl drop on the tile floor. The patter of feet running across the wooden floor to the front door seemed rather faint. The sound of his fingers rapidly trying to get the door unlocked made me smile. He opened the door as a soft smile grew on his unwrinkled face. Dressed in a T-shirt with an old pair of cut-off jeans he didn’t remind me of the brother I used to know. “Hi Sam, how you doing?” I didn’t have to wait very long for an answer. He lunged toward me put his arms around me giving me a big hug. “Hi Mark. It’s been a long time, how are you doing? Why did you come up here anyway, I don’t usually see you around here.” “I’m looking for someone and I thought he may have gone to the lake. Then I got a whiff of your cookies and… well… you know I had to drop by.” Sure, it was a line, but I hoped it would be good enough to satisfy his curiosity.

“Yeah, you always liked my cooking.” “Yeah… you do know the way to a man’s heart.” I said with a chuckle “I have a new life now Mark. Did you know I’m married?” That news blew me away. “You’re married? “So who’s this new guy in your life? It is a guy-right?” “Well hell yes, I didn’t come out of the closet all those years ago for nothing. “But, I don’t… don’t know if I should tell you right now who it is.” “Why not?” “Huh… you definitely wouldn’t understand!” I sat down at the table next to the kitchen took a few cookies from the cookie sheet on the table while Sam got a beer from the refrigerator and gave it to me. “Why don’t you think I’ll understand? Is this guy some kind of weird freak or something like that?” “Let’s just say he’s not your normal run-of-the-mill guy. But… I guess that’s what I like about him.” “Is this guy due back anytime soon?” “Heavens no, I hope not! You two wouldn’t get along very well.” “Really? Why do you say that? I haven’t met him yet. You never know we may hit it off and be the best of friends.” “Mark you could never be friends with this guy. He always has his so-called friends with him. They always have those horrible machine guns hanging off their shoulders. They remind me of those old gangster movies.” That’s all he had to say. I knew whom he was talking about. I stood up and shoved the cookies away from me. “It’s Araian Ayers isn’t it? You’re married to Araian Ayers aren’t you?” “How… how did you know?” “That son-of-a-bitch killed Jesse. That’s who I’m after. You’re right Sam I wouldn’t understand. You’ve changed. I never would have expected that you’d have dated, much less married anyone like Ayers, what happened to you?” “You did Mark. You weren’t very nice to me after you found out I was gay.” “Hell Sammy no one in the family was nice to you. Hell dad wanted to kill you.

? I had to hold him back or you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation.” “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you Mark, you’ve been living in the dark ages these past few years. I think everybody in town knows . Of course you’ve always been the “Golden child” of Bonestown. Nobody ever wants to say anything against you or hurt your feelings. Well Mark, I guess now you’re in the real world.” I was about to say something I knew I’d regret later so I just left the station, slamming the door on the way out wondering how Sam could have been so easily duped by such a low life, stupid son-of-a-bitch as Ayers.

Chapter 26

“Confrontation and Death”

“Well, Sammy is married to Ayers huh, at least now I know where to find Ayers. I think I’ll just find a nice heavily foliaged spot nearby to hide and wait for Ayers to come home. My cruiser would be a red flag to Ayers so I had to go back hide it besides letting dispatch know what was going on. After I hid the car I carefully walked back to the sector I picked out near the ranger station that I’d use for my surveillance. It was about six p.m. the sun had turned in for the night but had awakened the moon. I took my coat out of the car because the cold the mountain air would infiltrate my little cubbyhole. Lights had been turned on in the ranger station at the same time as smoke began to float out of the smokestack into the night air. I wished I had a fire to warm myself but knew that a fire would let everyone know that someone was out here-I couldn’t afford to be noticed. As I settled in I hoped that Ayers would show up soon, I didn’t want to spend the night out here, especially after what I went through in the woods just a few hours earlier. My eyes were heavy with sleep when I heard a noise from behind me. I shuffled back in the foliage thereby covering myself up as best I could. Then I heard the voice I didn’t want to hear. “Sheriff, you here somewhere? It’s Harlan.” As he walked by I yanked him into my hiding place. “Harlan what the hell are you doing here?” “Hell Mark I couldn’t let you take on Ayers by yourself. Hell that’d be suicide!” “And Harlan you think you’d be able to stop Ayers if he put me down?” “Ah… well I don’t know but I’d sure give it one hell of a try!” I smiled and put my arm around his neck. “You’re crazy! One of these days Harlan you’re going to get yourself killed trying to protect me.” “But it’s my job Mark. After all if you’re gone then I’m next in line-I’m not ready for your job

yet.” I chuckled, “Yeah, you got that right.” I said, “Okay, you can stay but be quiet. I don’t know when Ayers will come home but I’m sure he’ll be here. Call it a hunch or sixth sense or whatever but I know he’ll be here. By the way how did you find me?” “You forget Mark-I can track anyone-even a stubborn sheriff. “Say how do you know he’ll come here?” “Just a calculated guess Harlan just a guess.” Harlan moved some of the brush around to get comfortable. I guess he figured it would be a long night. Fortunately for both of us it wasn’t long before Ayers showed up with his buddies. Ayers went inside leaving his buddies outside. Guess he expected company—mainly me. It wouldn’t be long before Sammy told him about my visit and he’d be out here looking for me so Harlan and I had to take care of Ayers buddies quickly. Harlan motioned for me to look at his belt. He had always carried sedation darts in case we ran into animals we couldn’t handle. I could tell by the way he motioned with his hands that he wanted to use those darts on Ayers buddies. I gave him the okay. He went into pigmy mode and used the big straw he had in his thirty-two ounce drink he’d been caressing as the blowgun. Harlan can be amazing when he needs to. He brought one of the darts out of its holder inserted it in one end of the straw took a deep breath before launching the dart. I don’t know how he had enough power in his lungs to propel that dart through the straw but he did. It tumbled through the straw bolted out the end like a rocket blasting out of a silo. Within seconds one of Ayers guards fell down beside the front porch. Before the other guard had time to react the other dart hit him, he tumbled down on the porch. Harlan had subdued two men twice his size without either one of them knowing what had happened. I pushed the foliage aside as we ran toward the front door of the ranger station. We never made it to the front door. Ayers came out of the cabin firing his fortyfour-magnum. One shot hit me in the shoulder another hit Harlan square between the eyes; he fell flat on his back. Now Ayers was guilty of two murders he wouldn’t live to make it three. He brought his gun up to my face I grabbed the gun and jerked it out of his hand throwing it off to the side of the station in the process. I’d thrown it so hard I nearly ripped off Ayers arm-too bad-I would have loved to see him squirm in pain. I picked Ayers up with one hand while I blew his stomach off with my shotgun. Then I let him drop to the ground. Believe it or not he still tried to grab at me so

I took my pistol filling his head full of all the ammo I had in my gun. By the time I’d finished with Ayers he looked like a pool of blood and flesh with clothes thrown on top of it. “There ya go, Ayers. I said I’d get ya, and there ya are dead as a doornail. A just reward for all the evil you’ve done in this town.” Sammy pushed the door open and saw Ayers lying in a pool of blood and me with my shotgun and pistol in hand. His eyes told how he felt-his tears enhanced his emotions. “You bastard, why? Why’d you kill him? He didn’t do anything to you… why?” “He did do something to me Sam, he killed two of my best friends in cold bold. Damn it! He would have killed me if I hadn’t been ready for him.” Obviously, he wasn’t ready for anything I had to say. He punched me in the groin turned away running into the station, slamming the door behind him. I bent over in awesome pain and slowly turned around to tend to Harlan, if he was still alive, which I sincerely doubted. I walked about two feet when I heard the door open again. I turned back around. Sam stood just outside the door with a shotgun in his hands. The look in his eyes could only mean one thing either he would kill me or turn the gun on him. Since he positioned the shotgun at me I don’t think he wanted to kill himself. “Now wait a minute Sam you don’t want to do that. If you kill me you’ll go down for killing a sheriff. You know what happens to people who kill lawmen in this town.” “I don’t care you killed Araian. Now you’re going to feel what he felt but you’re going to feel more of it because I’ll make sure you die very slowly, very… very slowly.” “Now Sam…” I felt the stinging of the bullets entering my leg with the cold that soon followed. I fell on my back and gingerly sat up. He’d shot off my right leg just below the knee. Blood rolled with ease out of the wound. The blood came out so fast that I’d bleed to death if I didn’t stop it somehow. Sam walked over to me and said, “There that should do it! See how long you survive with that wound.” He threw the shotgun into the woods and walked away. I took off my gloves put them on the stump of what was left of my leg hoping that I could survive until help arrived or until Sam came to his senses and called for help. Warmth of my blood draining through my gloves felt strange. I knew the gloves wouldn’t last, soon I’d out or die. Looking around I saw Harlan nearby. He was definitely dead. I reached for his gloves that were wrapped around his belt. They were just out of range. Movement of my body came slow but I knew I had to get those gloves and use them to slow the release of blood from my body. I moved awkwardly toward Harlan. I’d just moved over enough to where I could grab his gloves when my eyelids felt heavy and my body began to feel extremely cold. I looked over at Harlan trying to reach the gloves just as everything went

black.

Chapter 27

“The Two Sides of Death” Side One: Transition

They say that when you enter a dark room if you wait a few seconds your eyes will adjust to the light and you’ll be able to see the edges of desk’s, table’s, etc., also you’ll be able to move around the room fairly well without the use of light. Well in my case, even though I wasn’t in a room that didn’t happen. It was pitch black. I couldn’t see or feel anything. There wasn’t any sound anywhere. I couldn’t feel a breeze of any kind. In Bonestown, Arizona there is always a breeze even a slight one. The ground that I took for granted for so many years, that I’d walked over and dug up for years and drove over wasn’t there. It didn’t feel like I was floating, but It didn’t feel like I was on solid ground either. Trying to move my arm up to my face seemed easy although I couldn’t see anything. I tried to touch my skin—it wasn’t there. I felt alive as alive as I could be in this world of darkness. Nevertheless, I had a feeling of being weightless but yet also a feeling of being attached to something solid. The weird thing about all this was that I wasn’t afraid. What was in this… this… room didn’t have any kind of shape moreover it looked like cold, black, steel. Nothing could be felt except my leg, which had just been blown off. I didn’t know where I was or if I were alive or dead. If this is what death is like where is God? Where is heaven? Then it hit me! I’d done a lot of things I hadn’t been proud of in my life and killing Ayers without a trial was one thing I shouldn’t have done. Maybe I’m in Hell. Oh God I hope not. Is this what hell is like, nothing but darkness, no one around to talk to, just kind-of existing, in a sort-of non-existent place? About that time I saw what appeared to be a ghostly image coming toward me from the right. It looked to be about twenty feet away and getting closer very fast. I tried to move, but couldn’t budge a muscle. Then I wondered how I could see a ghostly image in this darkness. I guess there are a lot of things in this world that defy explanation.

When the image came within viewing distance a gruesome sight revealed itself to me. It was Ayers-well what was left of Ayers. I’d seen a lot of disgusting things in my line of work, however, seeing a gruesome image like Ayers who’s head is full of bullet holes still dripping blood and his stomach torn out of his body with the remaining hole of flesh and blood still purging it’s contents out of his body was almost too much for me to take. The smell of his rotting flesh turned my stomach. If I had had a hand I would have covered my nose-if I’d had a nose. “What do you want Ayers?” I don’t know how I could talk but I did. “Well, well… if it isn’t sheriff Mark. I didn’t think you’d be here Mark. I thought you’d be upstairs. You know with the big guy.” “What makes you so sure I’m not?” “What you Mark, with the big guy… oh… let me guess this is just a stop on your way up the light to him-right? Don’t make me laugh. You’re here because I have to teach you a lesson Mark, that’s why you’re here, that’s why I’m going to love this. It is going to be so nice. . . . I’m just going to love this. You know the hot guy and I… ah you do know who I’m talking about right?” “You mean Satan?” “Yeah, Satan, Lucifer, whatever you want to call him. I call him the “hot guy” well you know he is hot. You know with those red horns and all. Anyway, has he got a surprise for you, follow me Mark. Ayers shimmered then vanished. I don’t know what the hell he was talking about. I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. It must have been a hallucination. After all what else could it be-right? A few minutes later I began to feel queasy and very light-headed. It felt like I hadn’t eaten in days. But since I didn’t have a body or at least it didn’t feel like I had a body why would I feel this way. Then I recognized that those feelings come from the mind not the body. The mind is what controls what the body does. That made me wonder about the condition my body was in. Could it be that my brain had been separated from my body that I existed just as a brain without the body? Just thinking about that brought back memories of the old Sci-Fi shows about brains that were kept alive in jars. Is it possible that I was now one of those brains? Maybe someone had found me at the ranger station or

some weird scientist was able to extract my brain to keep it alive. Now c’mon Mark you’re going off the deep end here. Those things only happen in the movies-not in real life, especially in Bonestown, Arizona. Then how could I be alive in this dark place? How is that possible? How can I think and reason and talk to myself but not be able to see anything, feel anything, or touch anything? How is that possible? It was then that I heard the voice. This voice would come to haunt me. A voice that would eventually bring me to grips with my life and what I’d done and was about to do.

Side Two: Perception of death

It didn’t take long for the darkness to change in addition to the voice to becoming clear. Before I had a chance to think about my position plus why the voice began speaking to me it told where I was along with why I was there. The voice spoke: “White man I warned you not to travel down this path. You did not listen, and you suffered the consequences. You will now have to face the things you’ve done wrong and make them right before you can continue you’re journey. Are you ready to correct your wrongs Whiteman?” “I don’t know what I did wrong so how can I correct it?” “Every soul knows what they’ve done wrong and what they need to do to make things right. You have to dig deep within your soul and find the things that you’ve done. Make a strong desire to make them right or I cannot help you. You must decide what is best for you. If you do not decide correctly, you will stay here. No one will mourn you’re death. The decision is yours. I am here to force you to make a decision. The gods demand it. If it is not done promptly others will suffer and you will be punished for your lack of cooperation. Whiteman, the time has come, what is your decision?”

“I still don’t know what I’ve done, except that I’ll learn from my mistakes. I’ll make amends just please let me live.” Silence came swiftly but still the darkness remained. I didn’t know if I’d chosen correctly or not or if all this had been a weird dream. Minutes later I received my answer. The darkness became gray. My mind went blank. I felt myself being lifted up and floating through the air being slowly lowered down onto something uneven.

Chapter 28

“Discoveries”

Opening my eyes revealed a hazy black chamber. The walls were pebbled uneven. There appeared to be a light coming from one end of this cavern although looking through the dusty haze made it almost impossible to see clearly. I didn’t know what to think. That light had to mean hope where there’s hope there’s probably people. Looking down at my right leg it looked like I had a sheet covering it. Debating hadn’t been one of my best subjects at school. Today I debated whether I should lift up the sheet to see what kind of stump I had left. I’d seen people who had their legs amputated-not a pretty sight. I’d managed to look at my stump of a leg when Sam shot it off, but somehow, here in this sickeningly, smelly chamber, all those images seemed so far off in the distance so removed from today here and now. Seeing what’s left of my leg would be horrible-something that I imagined I couldn’t take. I thought for a minute. “Ah… so what… what else could happen? I’m going to have to see it eventually anyway it might as well be now.” I reached down yanking the sheet off of my leg. “Damn it! Bandages! I went through all that worrying for nothing! There are bandages all over my damn leg, or what’s left of it. Who bandaged my leg?” All I saw were those pebbled walls. “Where am I? Who helped me?” I sat up looking at the ground behind me. It gave the impression of a depression, almost as if I’d been lying there for hours, or maybe even days. I felt stiff although my body ached as I started to stand. That didn’t work. I fell down with a loud thud! Dust including dirt flew up in the air as though someone had just thrown a dead body on the ground complete with oozing blood. “This isn’t getting me anywhere.” I thought. Aside from the fact that I only had one leg to stand on, I wasn’t wearing my uniform, but wearing Indian clothing. As I looked at the clothing I heard movement from behind me. Turning quickly as a one legged man could I sat face-to-knee with an old friend. “Shit! I’ll be dammed! Chief Running Wolf. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Keeping you from killing yourself, that’s what I’m doing here! You white men never cease to amaze me. You never think things through. You lost you’re leg because you couldn’t wait to get Ayers could you. If you’d just waited another day he’d have done you’re work for you.” “What do you mean?” “Look Mark Ayers was dying anyway. His spirit was killing him. You saw it. He’d fade in and out of existence.” “How’d you know that nobody saw that but me.” “Mark you’d be surprised at the things I know in this town. Then you get your leg half blown off, Also, if it hadn’t been for me following you and bringing you up here, you’d be dead by now.” “Thanks Chief, but if you were so upset about what I did why’d you help me?” “Mark, the spirits want you alive, for now anyway, they want you to learn.” “Learn what? Don’t tell me, you’re going to be my teacher like the karate kid you know, “wax on, wax off.” C’mon I’m a little too old for that.” “Hardly Mark. You’re lesson is much more serious. I’m not able to understand exactly what the spirits have in mind for you. But trust me it will be an eye opener. They want me to give you this.” The Chief reached into a bag he carried retrieving a beautifully carved Tomahawk. I’d never seen anything like it. It had intricate carvings of a wolf, an owl, and an Eagle. The blade had an etching of Chief Running Wolf on one side moreover a bear on the other. There were feathers hanging from the wooden edge of the blade. The chief gave me the Tomahawk simply stating, “This is all you’ll need to guide you through what is about to happen, use it well, it is the only protection you will have.” He reached over took my hands, placed the tomahawk gently in them. It seemed to fascinate me for what seemed like hours, when in reality only a minute or two ed. Seconds later I looked up noticing the chief had gone. I put the

Tomahawk in one of the pouches in the garment I wore. Light that had beckoned me earlier came calling to me again in silent whispers. While searching for something that I could use as a crutch an old piece of wood that I hadn’t noticed before came into view. Maybe the Tomahawk had begun its power. Crawling wasn’t easy but I made it to the wood and brushed off the dirt. Then I became aware of a gruesome fact. It wasn’t a piece of wood; it was a leg bone of a skeleton—a human skeleton. I jumped back as far back as my body would allow. It was then I discovered that I had been crawling on bones. There must have been hundreds of bones all over this cave. “I’m in a damn graveyard! The leg bone worked well as a while I hobbled toward the light. An image occurred in my mind. Approaching the light I stopped in my tracks just before the edge of a cliff. If I’d gone on I’d have plummeted at least two hundred feet to my death. The chief had carried me to one of the Callamontra Caves. These caves had been talked about for centuries; of course nobody believed they actually existed. Well now I knew; they were real, very real. I knew these were the Callamontra Caves because I could see the Flying Eagle Mountain. According to legend you can only see this view of the flying eagle rock if you’re in these caves. “Whew!! That was close! I was almost meat for the buzzards. While looking out toward Flying Eagle Mountain I understood why people said the site could make them do things they never thought possible. The legend said that if you stared at the mountain long enough you could believe you could just walk right over to the Flying Eagle and hitch a ride to the heavens. I felt hands on my shoulders. It happened so fast I couldn’t turn around. The hands pushed me out of the cave entrance. Fresh, smooth air ed over me as my body tumbled downward to certain death. Then I ed the Tomahawk. Fighting against the wind was difficult at best but I managed to grab the tomahawk. A branch stuck out below just close enough to reach. As I got closer my heart raced faster. This could be the reason I received the tomahawk it would be the device that saves me. I reached out toward the branch swung at it with my tomahawk-and missed. The tomahawk flew out of my hand. Now death came swiftly toward me. The next sound I heard consisted of a loud thump. Seconds later everything went black. I did comprehend that I lay on a plateau with the tomahawk lying beside me. My view from this position rested upon the back of the Flying Eagle Mountain. A bright, shiny reflection came from the back of the eagle’s neck. An

old legend stated that there could be a cave in the eagle’s head that had wealth beyond belief, also that dozens of people, both Indian and white-man tried to find that wealth. They were never heard from again. My thoughts turned to how could I end up across a cavern on top of a mountain. “Spirits must have something to do with this,” I thought as pain from my fall tumbled through my limbs. “Is it possible that shiny object might be part of the gold in the cave? Imagine the land I could buy if I found that gold and could bring it back out. Huh… I bet you those Indians would think differently of me then. Hey… I wouldn’t care. Hell… I could pay them whatever they asked for their land. And wouldn’t that be ironic. Words of the chief swirled in my conscious. The importance of the tomahawk came to my conscious now more than ever before. I took the tomahawk put it into the pocket of my new Indian garments then looked around for a way off of this plateau. As luck would have it a path, though somewhat rocky besides being slippery from a recent rain meandered nearby. A path is better than trying to climb down a plateau, even if it’s not an even path. So I hobbled over to the path in order to start my journey downward. I estimated that it would take me till morning to get to the eagle, if I were lucky and didn’t have any more little adventures, so I knew that I had to find a stream if I were to survive the night plus the desert heat. Something stirred my curiosity. I’d never seen anything like it in my life. I’d been in the desert hundred’s of times but never saw anything like this. Its fangs were at least three inches long, its body must have been fifteen long, but it didn’t have a rattle, so I didn’t hear it as I approached. But now this giant of a rattlesnake perched nearby ready to strike.

Chapter 29

“Life Force of the Tomahawk”

If I moved the snake would strike. However, I couldn’t stand holding this bonecrutch all day, something had to give. I wasn’t about to let that snake have me for lunch or in this case dinner. As I stood there watching the snake I began to feel heat coming from my pocket. I didn’t dare reach for the tomahawk or the snake would lurch forward. It seems that the chief was right about the tomahawk protecting me. I didn’t have to reach for the tomahawk it seemed to jump out of the pocket landing on the ground without a sound. The snake turned its head toward the tomahawk but didn’t lurch forward. I watched as one of the carved images began to emerge from the handle of the tomahawk then materialize between the snake and I. Now that got the attention of the snake-it lunged toward the image. The image of a wolf became whole just as the snake hit it. The wolf showed no fear, struck at the snakes neck, at least what I think would be the neck. Then soon afterward it jumped on the rest of the snake tearing the head from the body. The head of the snake flew from the wolf’s mouth into a small bush nearby. It shook haphazardly. Its eyes were looking-first at me then the wolf-until all its life drained from its severed neck. The wolf whose mouth dripped with what once were the inner workings of the snake, marched over to me, looked up at me through what I assumed to be some sort of mental telepathy told me that, “Your first challenge is over-you failed. You must your next challenge or you won’t survive the night.” GREAT! just what I wanted to hear a dog that can talk to me with his mind and a challenge! “Hadn’t I had enough challenges in my life why did I need to be tested again?” But then the gold plus the thought of all that wealth in addition to how much land that would buy came to the forefront of my mind. Soon the only thing that concerned me was getting to that cave in Flying Eagle Mountain. The wolf turned toward my tomahawk that lay still on the ground dematerializing as the tomahawk became hotter then colder almost in the same second. I hesitantly took the tomahawk placing it back in my pocket. The clouds started to roll in.

Night would soon follow. In these parts that usually means cold hours of darkness. Finding some sort of shelter would have to be the priority. Without that it would be a long dangerous night. I staggered down the path as best I could while searching for some kind of shelter. At least an hour had ed when I came upon an old cabin. It appeared to be deserted. I was too tired to care if it was or wasn’t. Wanting shelter along with some sleep I began climbing the small incline toward the cabin. It seemed to take forever. There were three steps onto the deck. Struggling over them I eventually madder it to the wooden front door. Knocking on the door didn’t work-no one was there to answer. I really just wanted to lie down and go to sleep. The door wasn’t locked so I maneuvered myself inside finding a rather nicely furnished cabin. I thought to myself, “Why wouldn’t whoever lives here lock this place up when they leave. There are a lot of nice things in here.” It looked like some sort of handmade couch near the fireplace also a huge throw rug that could have easily been made by the local Indians rested on the floor in front of the hearth. The fire had diminished from when it first started but still kept the room warm. “Why would they have a fire going during the day? It’s usually not severely cold up here it usually runs around the high eighty’s, definitely not a time for a fire in a fireplace. I looked around the room as something odd on the coffee table in front of the couch garnered my attention. There were two mugs on the table with what I assumed was coffee in both of them. Steam wafting slowly out of them. That meant that whoever drank from those mugs might still be here or may have left suddenly. Nothing in the living room seemed out of place. In fact everything seemed too perfect. The inquisitive sheriff part of me had begun to take over. Now my interest in this cabin might be more than that of a place for shelter. Something had happened here. “Could this be the second test that the wolf implied I would fail at?” This thought came and went quickly as though my conscious said, “You’re the sheriff it’s your job to investigate things like this. It isn’t some sort of stupid challenge or test.” Shuffling around the cabin searching for anything that would reveal what had happened turned out to be draining to my body. I didn’t want to think that something evil or dangerous would be waiting for me around some damp or dark corner. Darkness entered the cabin so quietly that if it were Ayers I’d be dead. Flipping the light switch to the “on” position seemed normal on the other hand in

this house nothing really is normal. Nothing unusual yet still just the normal smells along with the sounds of a cabin except for those steaming coffee mugs. I decided to go back to retrieve the mugs. If I were lucky they may contain evidence that could be used to determine who had been here. While walking back toward the living room a strange smell came from the living room. I’ve come in with that particular smell before. The smell of rotting flesh is always recognizable one you never forget. As I turned the corner into the living room I noticed that something had been removed, the mugs. Someone or maybe in this case—some thing—had taken them. That may have been the smell that had my senses going crazy. “Maybe what I smelt was one of the spirits the chief had told me about. I’ll bet they are creating all this to test me or as the wolf implied “challenge” me.” I felt the stress of the day in connection with the strength of my body fad as my eyelids began to weigh heavy over my eyes. The couch looked very inviting. I crawled on it quickly shutting out the rest of the world. I slept beautifully. Being worn out besides stressed mentally can relax you so much that your body just collapses into a deep sleep. The light coming through the dirty, shear drapes knocked gently on my eyelids waking me up easily. My bone-crutch lay beside me on the couch. I seized it. Slowly I stood up. Still groggy I started to meander over to the kitchen. My feet were weak. I walked a few feet then tripped falling head first on the wooden floor. “Aw Shit!! Moving to one side enabled me to discover that my body from the waist down had fallen on something. Sight failed me at that moment so I rubbed my eyes and looked at the object again. To my horror a dead body lay in front of me. A nude woman’s body faced me. As quickly as I dared I moved myself off of her and sat up looking at her. She had one gunshot wound to her head dead center between the eyes. Whoever killed her must have been one hell of a shot. Except I noticed that the corps didn’t have any blood. I crawled around to the other side of her finding a clean body. Obviously she wasn’t killed here. Which means since I didn’t see her last night before I went to sleep someone killed her then put her here so I would be blamed for killing her. If that’s the case then there should be a gun around here. Searching near her body then under the coffee table my sight fell upon it—the gun that would put me at the scene of a crime that is if anyone found me here with it. It’s funny the things that come to your mind when your in danger. The only thing I could think of is what the chief said to me back in the cave, “You’re

lesson is much more serious. I’m not able to understand what exactly the spirits have in mind for you except that it will be an eye opener for you.” Right now aside from the words of the chief, either I had to get out of here, or this poor girl had to be moved away from this cabin. I decided that me getting out of this cabin would be easier plus much faster than trying to move the dead weight of a body. I got up arranged myself as best I could and started for the front door when something call it intuition or E.S.P. or just a gut feeling told me to go into the study. I shouldn’t have listened. It turned out to be a stupid idea. I opened the timber door and reached around for a light switch. In finding the light switch I also found a substance on the switch, which looked remarkably like blood. It appeared to be caked while covering most of the switch. That could only mean one thing. Whoever used that switch and whoever’s blood that is would have been here hours ago or possibly yesterday. Now the next question is, “Why is there blood on the light switch not on the door knob? And is that blood the blood of the nude woman that occupies that comfy spot in front of the fireplace? Or even more frightening is that the blood of the murderer?” All good questions but I don’t have the time or the desire to find the answers. Then I saw it. It wasn’t whole by any means other than I recognized it right away. After all I’ve had it all my life. How could you not recognize your own shot off leg lying bloodied and twisted up against the foot of the mahogany desk that dominated this study, “What the?” . . .” I said while maneuvering myself over to what used to be part of my anatomy sitting down beside it. Picking it up my attention grew to just how hard it had become-more like a rock than what used to be a human leg. “What is going here?” I began to think of my brother then Ayers… why I didn’t think of it before… this is Ayer’s place. This is where he used to live before I killed him. What about that nude girl? Where did she come from? I began to think about all that had happened to me-maybe Araian had one last surprise for me. His buddies could have planted that girl to frame me or just to scare me. Matter of fact I’ll bet you if I go back into the living room that body will be gone. I don’t know why I decided to take my leg with me, maybe sentimental reasons, but I’m sure I looked rather spooky-a man with one leg carrying his shot off leg with him. The only thing that would have made it spookier would have been if blood dripped from my shot off leg. When I exited the study the faint aroma of dead flesh permeated the air. I tried to run, as fast as a one-legged man can run, toward the living room. Turning the corner into the living room I felt my

tomahawk get hot again. “Time for another visitor,” I thought. Within seconds the biggest most beautiful eagle I’d even seen appeared in front of me. Its wingspan must have been twenty feet end-to-end. It looked down at me as if to say, “Watch closely human you’ll learn.” It turned picked up the nude woman in its beak, followed by flying through the window into the forest. Time seemed to stand still as I stood there with my mouth wide open drooling out of one side. A loud “thud, click.” from the area of the study brought me back into the real world. I turned found myself face-to-face with a spirit. This spirit seemed to calm me the more I looked at him. His transparent image made it hard to see all his features, but if I moved around him, he’d turn with me plus in a certain light he appeared to resemble an owl. Oddly enough the same owl that is carved on the tomahawk. Still, he just appeared he didn’t come from the tomahawk like the others-he just came out of nowhere. I waited for him to say something. That didn’t happen. I thought okay I guess this time I have to say something so here goes, “What do you want me to do?” I waited he didn’t respond. He would watch every move I made without any response to anything I said. “This is interesting.” The stress of the day including my failing strength got the better of me before I could do or say anything else the room started spinning. The one good leg gave out. Next thing I knew I’d fallen onto the wooden floor just as my eyes closed out all the images I had just seen.

Chapter 30

“Flying Eagle Mountain and the Quest Fulfilled”

Waking to an empty room can be lonely. I had apparently slept through the night. Any remnants of what had happened here were gone. In fact the place seemed more comfy, more inviting than when I first entered. That alone made me wonder if all I had experienced was the effect of a vivid imagination or the result of a tired, stressed out mind yearning for rest. One question did remain, “Could this cabin have been Ayers at one time.” The evidence of the dead, naked woman lying near the fireplace was gone. At least that part of my imagination proved to be right. If indeed there was a dead woman. After all if there isn’t any evidence of a crime is there a crime? This is too much for me to think about right now. All I want to do is get to Flying Eagle Mountain, find that gold then buy up all the land I can get my hands on. My decapitated leg hadn’t been moved at least no one changed that. Deciding on whether to pick it up or leave it here wasn’t much of a decision. It would be better off here. Maybe if this were Ayers place his ghost would be surprised that it had moved. Then I realized that I did go into the study and did find the remnants of my shot-off leg. So it could be that I’d been wrong maybe all this did happen. My mind had so many thoughts of one thing or another that I needed to sort out what was real as opposed to what wasn’t. This place definitely isn’t the venue for that task. I took my bone-crutch made it to the front door, opened it, walked out of this cabin and didn’t bother to look back at the living room, which had started to slowly turn black. I never looked back at the cabin as I walked away. Maybe because that the little voice in my head said, “Keep walking don’t look back.” After about a half hour of trying to walk along the roughly carved out dirt road, I turned around observing that the cabin began to slowly crumble onto the earth. It looked like an invisible crane had knocked all the logs that made the cabin into pieces. They tumbled aimlessly to the surface.

Someone or something had wanted me to see what that cabin held. Or… worse yet that cabin was designed to generate my minds images of what could come to or what could happen if I didn’t do something. Is that the lesson I’m supposed to learn? Huh… some lesson I have no idea what I could have learned from that. Who knows things might become clearer as time goes by. Those Indians have a way of making you think before the answer comes to you.

§ § § §

I’d traveled about two hours through some rough mountain terrain not having any idea how I managed it with one leg and found myself now at the entrance to the cave of Flying Eagle Mountain. It is beautiful here. The cave entrance is surrounded by Saguaro’s plus barrel cacti line both sides of the path to the entrance. This suggests running lights at an airport. Nearby are various forms of vegetation, all in full bloom and lush in color. Nothing is burnt in this area. It’s as if the sun gently touches the plant life near the cave even though it is in direct sunlight everyday of the year. What is unusual besides wonderful at the same time is that I can see the glow of the gold emanating off the walls of the cave. It seems to bath the walls in a hue that can only come from pure gold. I pulled back some of the growth of plant life that had covered part of the entrance so I could walk easily a few feet inside. The view that came to light was extraordinary. There were piles upon piles of gold bars. They must have dated back to the eighteen hundreds. Along one side of the bars sat a chest with the lid open in addition to what must have been hundreds and hundreds, if not thousands of dollars inside the chest. I couldn’t believe the sight of gold before my eyes. And yet the legend about people who come in here and never return had not come true. Nothing had happened to me. I’m standing in the middle of all this gold and money. Of course I haven’t touched any of it yet. Who knows, maybe there is some sort of virus or chemical on the gold along with the money that is toxic-that could be why no one is ever seen coming back from the cave. But if that’s so why aren’t there any skeletons here? Gazing at the gold made me feel rich, even though none of it was mine, at least not yet anyway. What would happen if I touched or

tried to take any of the money or gold? Being the sheriff, I also thought about the legal effects if I did succeed at getting everything I wanted from this cave. How could I keep it without committing a crime? It seemed like I debated the ethics of all this for hours but in the end I had to do it-I just had to. Even if it meant going to jail, I had to get that gold and money. I’d gone through too much not to take it. If I were clever enough and fast enough I could buy all the land around here with the money from the gold. No one would know I used the gold anyway. First I’d have to take the money and figure out how to get the gold later. Gold bars are extremely heavy and trying to carry them down this mountain would be suicide. Walking with only one good leg still had its consequences. Fortunately, I could move myself to the chest. The gold glowed even more up close. Just as I grabbed some of the dry dusty money the earth started to tremble. “Oh… Shit! I knew it! Damn it! I knew something like this would happen! Shit!” Perhaps I could jump away from the trembling earth since it seemed to only be in the area near the chest. It was a dumb move. I jumped just as the earth gave way. The entire floor of the cave crumbled away except for about twenty feet from the entrance. I looked down as I started to fall into the large hole knowing that I’d seen my last dollar. Sharp arrows were pointed toward me. There must have been at least fifty. I felt the tips of the first ten or so pierce my body as the pain stopped my conscious from working. Soon afterward I saw myself floating above a body. A bleeding disted mass lay on the ground. The arrows were gone. It didn’t look like me. How could it be me? I’m up here not down there. I’m alive just floating above this dead guy dressed like me. Why is my tomahawk with that guy? Did he steal it from me? “Mark you’ve finally reached your destiny.” “Who… who said that?” “Mark it’s me Chief Running Wolf. Look behind you.” I turned around and saw the chief-something had changed. He seemed to be there and not there. He appeared to be ghost-like as if he were dead. “Wait a minute if the chief is dead and I can see him then I must be… na that can’t be. The guy that’s down there is dead I’m not dead. I mean I’m floating here above him but that doesn’t mean I’m dead. The chief walked over to guide me to the Tomahawk that had fallen near the body. He told me to look at the blade. It was shiny almost too shiny to look at eventually I found an angle to view it without getting the suns rays in my eyes. What I saw made me want to throw up but nothing came out of my mouth. It was the chief’s face on the tomahawk lacerated and torn apart just as the body

that lay next to the tomahawk. Confusion reeled within me. The chief explained that within a few hours the carved image on the tomahawk handle would change from him to me also, that from this day forward I would be the spirit God that is to protect this Indian land forever. This land that I wanted to buy and own from the chief but had never been able too is mine in death. Now I not only own this land with all the gold and money in Flying Eagle Mountain but I will be protecting it for eternity. The money that I cherished all my life would now be mine to protect, not to use for eternity. A death similar to what people would call hell.

Chapter 31

“Sometimes you get want you want”

“Ah… !” I shouted and jumped up. Sweat poured from my face. “Now, now Mr. Street we can’t have you getting upset,” said Nurse Waxman at the same time as she came over and tucked me back into the hospital bed. “You’ve been out of it for two days now. I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever wake up again.” “Where… where am I?” “Oh… Mr. Street you’re at St. Anne’s Hospital. You sure have problems ing where you are now don’t you? Just sit back and relax Dr. Lorenze will be here shortly. “How… how did I get here?” “Oh… you’re daughter brought you here.” “My… my daughter? . . . she’s been missing for years. That can’t be!” “Okay Mr. Street I’ll go get her and you can see for yourself.” “I must have had a bad dream,” I thought, “Wow I hope that never happens again-whew. This should be good, I wonder if it’s really my daughter or someone trying to find out about Ayers and what happened at the cabin, like maybe one of Ayers family” My heart almost stopped when I saw my daughter walk through the door over to my bed. She was a few years older. I could tell she’d been through a lot but she was still my girl. Jenny sat on the bed leaning over as we hugged and kissed each other on the cheek. “What happened to you?” I asked, “You’re mother and I were sacred to death when we couldn’t find you. What happened.” “Yeah I know.”

“You… you know? How could you know?” “Daddy I’ve got something to tell you and I’m sure you’re gonna get upset so I’m not sure about telling you here… in the hospital I mean.” “Honey you… you… can tell me anything. I’m your father. I’m just glad you’re alive and safe. Now what is it honey?” “Okay you asked for it so here goes. You know back when I saw Davy in the living room?” “Yeah… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything.” “That’s Okay dad. I found out from Ayers.” “AYERS! What the hell does he have to do with us?” “Ah… that’s what I’m sure you’re going to get upset about.” I thought that she’d tell me that she ran off with Ayers and that she was madly in love with him. Unfortunately, what she said shocked me more than I imagined. “Daddy… I ran off to be with Danny Blackhorse except that about a block away from home this big white limo pulled up and these two big hunks of muscle jumped out of the car putting something over my mouth and head so I couldn’t scream then yanked me into the limo. I later found out that they were Araian Ayers men. I think you know them-right? “That son-of-a-bitch! I’m glad I killed him! And yeah, I did know his bodyguards as he called them, until Hank killed them.” “Yeah… he did that’s right.” Said Jenny “How’d you know about that?” “Ayers has men all over the place. He had some of them following you all the time.” “Huh… they must have been very good cause I didn’t see anyone, anywhere. “Hey… wait a second… is that where you’ve been all this time honey? Has

Ayers kept you captive somewhere?” “Yeah he and his brother.” “His brother? I thought the rest of his family were killed years ago.” “Apparently not, he does have a brother and well, they told me everything the two of them have done over the past ten years. I guess they thought I’d never escape because they were going to kill before I had a chance to escape.” “Dad… they killed more than fifty people over the past ten years-fifty people. How could they be so evil and get away with it for so long?” “I don’t know honey. I’m just glad there’s only one left to deal with, and that’s what I’m going to do right now!” I stumbled out of bed over to the closet. “Dad you can’t go out there after him in the condition you’re in he’ll kill you. He’s very good with a gun-I’ve seen him use a gun-it’s not a pretty sight. Besides, you’ll need help.” “Huh… honey I appreciate your concern however, Araian Ayers killed Harlan and I’m almost positive he killed your mother and Davy.” I then become conscious of the fact that with Jenny being captive for so long she probably hadn’t heard of Kathy’s death. Quickly I turned around. She wasn’t crying or showing any emotion. “You knew about your mothers death?” “Daddy they told me about all their killings-including mom’s and Davy’s.” “Son-of-a-bitch! Son-of-a-bitch!” I said violently. “Daddy you need help… let me help you.” “That’s nice of you honey but I’ve lost too much and I don’t want to lose you. By the way how did you escape from the Ayers boys after so many years?” “I tried to gain their confidence during those years so that they would think that they brainwashed me. That way when I found the right time I’d escape easier than if I hadn’t befriended them. When they said that they were going to kill you

and make it a slow and painful death, I knew I had to escape and get to you first. “Smart girl… your mom and I raised a beautiful and smart girl. I wish your mother was here to see how good you turned out.” “Me too dad… me too. Dad you still need me. I can help you without being seen by David Ayers or his bodyguards.” “And how can you do that?” I asked as I put on my shirt and pants. “Dad, the trophy I won in the International Archery Shootout?” “Yeah so what?” “I can hide in the shadows and take out the bodyguards with anyone else Ayers has so that you and Ayers can have a fair fight.” “Huh… that might work except for one thing.” “What… what one thing?” “You aren’t going to do it, and that’s final! I’m not having another person die because of me, especially one of my family!” “Ar! . . . Dad maybe this will convince you that I deserve to be with you. While the muscle-headed moron’s of the Ayer’s family held me captive they… um… they… they raped me repeatedly.” “Damn those bastards! Damn them to hell! You… you okay sweetie? Do you need anything? “No Dad… I’m fine. I guess you raised a tough girl. After all I survived the Ayers and came through stronger than ever. Now will you let me help you? I have a very strong interest in seeing the last Ayers get what he deserves! C’mon Dad… please let me help you. I looked at my girl, all grown up and strong, a lot stronger than I’d ever imagined she could be and I could see the hate in her eyes. That hate reminded me of the hate I have plus it would boil inside of her for years if it weren’t taken care of right now.

“Alright sweetie you can help, but you have to do it my way-understand! “No problem Dad you’re the sheriff after all.” Her savvy smile made me proud of her. “I’ve got an idea about how to draw David Ayers out and have it out with him. What do you think of an old fashioned western shoot-out?” “Cool dad… let’s do it.” I knew that all the Ayers clan spent time at the saloon and most of them were there at midnight-less competition over the saloon at that time-so I planned on pulling up in my cruiser at one end of street next to the saloon. Jenny would hide in the alley right near the cruiser. That would give her protection and the darkness of the night would prevent Ayers and his bodyguards from seeing her. Since she’d be using arrows instead of bullets there wouldn’t be any mussel flash to give away her position. I’d call out Ayers and his buddies with the bullhorn I had in the trunk. When I’d call to Jenny she’d take out his buddies with two well placed arrows; swift and silent. I retrieved the bullhorn then called to Ayers. I figured I’d give him a name like his brother, I think Dummy Ayers is good since his first name starts with a “D.” “Hey Dummy Ayers and your bodyguards come out here I want talk with you. This is Sheriff Mark Street.” No response. I began to think, “Oh crap they aren’t there!” Then I thought, na, I just have to make it more urgent that I talk to them. “Ah… Dummy Ayers I think you’d better get out here now! I did learn a little something from you’re brother; how to make bombs, well I learned that before I killed him but my bombs are better and more deadly than that moron of a brother you used to have. So, you have about five seconds before that saloon is blown to bits.” “You’re bluffing Sheriff.” David said as his bodyguards ran out of the saloon drawing their guns on me as they ran. “Dummy you have two seconds. Do you want to bet you life on whether I’m telling the truth?” I never saw someone run out of a saloon so fast. “Well times up Dummy, and look you’re here and so is the saloon, you lived up to your name-how nice of you.”

“Alright Street what do you want, you got us out here now what it is. I’ve got a beer in there that’s getting warm fast.” “First Dummy let me say this one word-Jenny!” Within about five seconds there was one swoosh then another and Ayers bodyguards fell hard to the ground. One had an arrow stuck through his throat while the other had one stuck the in his heart. Jenny walked out of the shadows wearing a camouflage outfit and up to my left side. “David Ayers started laughing. “Let me guess sheriff, you want a shoot-out, just like at the OK corral-right? You’ve got to be kidding! I’m not going to do this you’re an idiot. I don’t even have a gun.” “You know Dummy you’re so much like you’re brother it’s uncanny. I seized a gun hidden in the back of my belt and threw it at Ayers. It landed in front of his right shoe. “Street, you want me to pick up this gun? Are you nuts? Why I can just go over here and grab one of those machine guns that my bodyguards had and… about this time Ayers felt the sting of an arrow pierce the flesh of his right hand as he reached for the machine gun. “Damn it Street! You gonna have your daughter do all your fighting for you?” “Dummy, I expected you to say that. Jenny take off, I’ll see you later.” Jenny gave me a wink quickly going back toward the cruiser. “Okay Dummy it’s just you and me now so why don’t you just play my little game and-draw-you know like an old west shoot-out.” Noises started erupting from behind me as both of us noticed that the remaining townsfolk that were out at this time of night had gathered to see what would happened between the two of us. “Huh… Dummy it looks like we have an audience. So are you going to chicken out like your brother or I we going to do this?” “Stop calling me Dummy!”

“Hey I’ll stop calling you Dummy when you draw.” “Street what do think is going to happen if you kill me? All these people here will see it and you’ll go to jail for murder because I’m not going to draw. How do you plan to get out of that?” “Oh you’ll draw Dummy.” With that said I pulled my revolver shooting off one of Dummy’s ears. “Okay that’s a start do you want me to continue? I figure I can get your other ear and nose and one eye before you smarten up and draw what do you think? “Street you son-of-a-bitch! You’re gonna pay for this!” “Good go for it. All you have to do is pick up that gun and fire it toward mesimple right even a moron like you can do that right?” That did it. He reached for the gun and fired. He got me in the shoulder. The smell of hot lead permeated the air as the bullet pummeled through my flesh and bone. Intense pain of the bullet exiting out my back was almost too much to bear in my condition. I yanked my gun from its holster firing twice hitting him in the heart and between the eyes, just as three to four arrows sliced through his coat, neck, and legs. Jenny came running over and held me close. After a few seconds we walked over to David Ayers. The wounds in his body were graphic-very hard to look at. When he hit the pavement his skull must have cracked as a result of the headshot tearing the flesh off his face plus the arrows that Jenny fired punctured holes through his body that were so clean blood flowed easily through them. Finally the Ayers family had been eliminated and as Jenny and I walked away I looked toward the edge of town and saw the ghost of the Indian and wolf that I saw in the forest. They stood there as clearly as if they were two feet in front of me when in reality they were five miles away. The Indian smiled nudged his horse to turn around and they all disappeared. Jenny was about to take me to doc’s place when a mist appeared in front of me. When it evaporated a hearse complete with horses and a driver were in the street. They all looked ghostly as if they were from another time. The driver jumped off the hearse, looked at Ayers then ran to me and shook my hand. “Great work sheriff! I’ve been waiting for this for a long time, a long time. My

names doc street and I’ll take Ayers off your hands for you. You’ve done me a big favor sheriff. Well got to go.” He then picked up Ayers as if he were a toy threw him in the back of the hearse as the mist appeared again. When it dissipated nothing lay on the street except Ayers blood. “What the hell was that dad? “I don’t know Jenny but if I were a betting man I’d say the dead came for Ayers. A noise came from behind me. Before I could finish that thought I felt an immense pain in my back, then another, and another. Jenny screamed as I looked at her then the hand I’d used to try to stop the blood from exiting by body so fast even as I fell to the street. Jenny bent down lifting my head. Time was short and the only thing I could say eased out of my mouth, “Jenny honey I love you. I’ll always be with you.” Jenny’s tears were the last thing that I saw as I traveled from this world to another. Jenny cried and rubbed Mark’s hair gently as a small, soft wind blew up, lifting dirt from the street into Jenny’s eyes. As it cleared Jenny saw the Indian that had been at the other end of the town minutes earlier. At first Jenny thought to grab her gun and end this Indian’s life theorizing that he’d killed her dad except as she moved her hand the Indian grabbed it gently moving it toward the buildings behind her. She saw a man slowly putting a gun in his holster as he began laughing. She stood up shooting the remaining arrows into the man killing him instantly. She turned back around and saw the Indian still knelling but gradually becoming transparent. Bending down she suddenly knew that he meant no harm. The Indian leaned over and whispered in her ear, “The curse has been lifted, your family will be safe from now on. Do not worry about your father. He will be with you when you need him, All you have to do is ask. , the soul resides within the body. The body is a container for the soul. Your father will never leave your soul. You will be guided by him as he never could in his life through the rest of your life. Jenny looked down at her father then back toward the Indian. But her eyes fell upon an empty street and buildings. He had vanished.

Epilogue

Gwendolyn Lout eventually married Jason Street, even though she had already changed her name to Street. Jason Street was part of the Street legacy that Mark street had been born into. Gwendolyn went on to build a thriving jean manufacturing business that still exists today. Unfortunately, she committed suicide when she was only thirty years old. This had been evidence of a troubled and tormented life. Her husband lived until he reached fifty years old when he died of lead poisoning from a thirty-eight used by the person that wanted to buy his business. As time went on the family that started out as the Jared Street/Ayers family grew in size and by this year there were as many Ayers in and around the Phoenix area as the amount of Indian’s that lived on the reservations. After the Ayers family had been eliminated Jenny stayed in Bonestown. After all, where could she go? She’d just killed people without a trial and would surely go to jail if anyone outside of this town found out about it. The people of Bonestown understood what happened and accepted her without question. The adventure with the Ayer’s clan will go down in the history of Silver Creek. Oddly though, the Indians accepted what happened as Jenny’s reputation with them improved. After some extensive training plus her election by the people of Bonestown to sheriff, Jenny is doing quite well in this tormented town. The “tall man” at the funeral was never seen again, When people are in a traumatic situation they can see and hear things that aren’t real. It could have been that the tall man was actually the grim reaper come to take David away-no one really knows or cares to investigate. The elders of Bonestown called Mark the “quiet man.” Jenny didn’t much care for the title but didn’t object. She does talk to her dad on a daily basis-usually when other people aren’t around and only in her mind. People claim to have seen more ghosts in town with visions of Mark Street’s ghost at night-usually around midnight. Only one thing remains true to this day, “Only a true spirit can create true horror.”