Evil Awakened (The Kiche Chronicles Book 1)

by J. M. LeDuc

  Pamoon dropped the stick and ran back in the direction she’d come. Tripping over an exposed root, she stumbled and fell, clawed her way back up, and ran faster.

  * * *

  The next thing she knew, she was standing in a dark room, bent over, hands on her knees, breathing heavy. She shuddered in fright, muttering, “Bobby, Bobby,” over and over.

  Someone or something grabbed her shoulders. She bunched up her fist and swung, fearful the monster had followed her. Through her wild movements, she heard Nuna’s voice call out: “Wake up! Wake up!”

  Struggling against the pull of her nightmare, Pamoon pried herself from her dream, her eyes wide, yet seeing nothing.

  Her vision slowly returning, Nuna’s face came into and out of focus. Pamoon felt Nuna’s grip on her shoulders tighten as she shook her and continued to yell her name.

  Although her aunt was right beside her, her voice sounded distant. Through her haze, Pamoon saw a sliver of light. Her body tensed as she thought of the light from her nightmare.

  The door to her bedroom flew open and White Eagle ran towards her. Pamoon, still in shock, tried to talk, but her speech was stymied. Her arms limp as noodles, she struggled to lift them towards her uncle, but they seemed so heavy, they just flopped against her sides. Her strength depleted, her body collapsed into White Eagle’s arms.

  Once again, her world went dark.

  16

  Legends

  March 3, 8:30 a.m.

  * * *

  Pamoon stirred, a cool, damp cloth pressed against her forehead, a wet tongue licking her cheek. With one hand, she removed the towel and with the other, rubbed the scruff of Scout’s neck.

  “Welcome back.”

  Pamoon opened her eyes to see Nuna and White Eagle sitting beside her bed. “What happened?”

  “You blacked out,” White Eagle said.

  Turning her attention to Nuna, she noticed the bruising of her cheek and a fresh scratch. “Crap, did I do that?”

  Nuna touched her cheek. “I shouldn’t have grabbed you in the middle of a nightmare. It’s not your fault.”

  Pamoon slunk back in the bed, covering her face with a pillow. “It sure feels like it’s my fault.”

  “Do you remember your dream?” White Eagle said, changing the subject.

  Removing the pillow. Pamoon struggled to sit up, her head aching like she was hung over. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget it,” she said through squinted eyes.

  “Can you tell us what you saw?”

  Pamoon nodded. “Do you think I could get a cup of coffee first? My head is killing me.” She ran her tongue over her teeth. “And I need to brush my teeth. They feel like their wearing sweaters, and,” making a face like she just swallowed one of Kamenna’s herbal remedies, “my breath is nasty.”

  “Eha,” White Eagle said, standing up. “Go wash up and Nuna will make some fresh coffee.”

  “That sounds kind of sexist, chief,” Nuna said, winking at Pamoon.

  White Eagle just shook his head and walked out. “I’ll make the coffee, but you know what my coffee tastes like.”

  Nuna shot out of her chair. “I’ll make the coffee.”

  Pamoon giggled. It felt good to laugh.

  * * *

  They sat around the table, White Eagle and Nuna glued to every word Pamoon said as she told them what she remembered.

  “The Misty Woods,” White Eagle said. “Do you remember where you entered them?”

  Pamoon took a sip of her coffee and shook her head. “No. I was already in the woods when the dream started.” She saw disappointment on his face. Remembering the tree she spotted yesterday morning during her run, she said, “But I might have an idea where to begin looking.”

  White Eagle grabbed his knife and slid it into his belt. “Come. We’ll talk as we walk.

  * * *

  With Scout on a leash, they entered the woods from the same location she did the morning before. Pamoon pointed in the direction she ran, and White Eagle began talking. He was not a big talker, so she was enthralled by his every word.

  “The woods have always been sacred to the Cree. Most of our tribe still lives up north in Minnesota and Canada among the woods.”

  “How did you get down south?”

  “Ah, good question,” he smiled. “When I was young, my family and our tribe gathered for an All Nations Powwow. I was just a teen, like you, and I didn’t want to go. I didn’t understand the depth or the traditions of a powwow. I had been to many, but they were Cree gatherings. I didn’t know why we had to travel so far to be with other nations.” He looked at Pamoon. “Did Kamenna teach you the meaning of the powwow?”

  Pamoon’s eyes rolled up and to the right, in thought. “She said a powwow was a gathering of American Indians who would come to dance, celebrate, pray, and socialize. But, Kamenna said the powwow had a different meaning to each person. That their place in the ceremony could only be defined by themselves.” She looked up at White Eagle and shrugged. “That’s where she lost me.”

  White Eagle grinned. “When I was your age, that’s where I got lost, too. For some, the powwow is a coming of age experience. A celebration of boys becoming men and girls becoming women. For some, it is just a social gathering. A time of celebration. To others, it’s a place to show their skills—skills of music, dance, crafts, or skills of fighting.”

  White Eagle was silent for a few moments as they continued to walk. “I was an arrogant young man and that’s what I thought my skill was.”

  “Fighting?”

  “Eha.”

  “I didn’t know you could fight.”

  “When I was young, all I wanted to do was learn how to use all our weapons: the spear, tomahawk, gunstock war club, long knife, and the bow and arrow. I spent every moment I could refining my skills until I was the best in my tribe. I thought I was the best anywhere.”

  “Were you?”

  “I never found out, but we’re getting ahead of the story,” White Eagle said as they continued along the path. “Most powwows are tribal, a gathering of one people, but occasionally, there will be one where all the peoples will gather together.”

  “Why?”

  “To share. Unlike the nations of the world around us, Indians believe that information should be shared. That traditions of one tribe should be shared with all tribes. In that way, we remained one people, living in harmony and not in distrust.”

  Pamoon nodded. “That makes sense. Too bad countries don’t think the same way.”

  “Eha. Anyway, the powwow we were headed to was being held on Seminole land, so we traveled to Florida. It was a long trip, and I was shocked when we arrived. I had never been in a humid climate before. I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to live in such sweltering heat. But more than that, I was amazed at the number of people gathered. There were tens of thousands of people from all tribal nations, hundreds of reservations, all living in one huge open space, sharing each other’s food and supplies.

  “At night, we would travel to each other’s campfires and listen to the stories and legends of that tribe. I learned that there had been a time, long ago, when all tribes considered themselves one. A time of concordance. It was there that I learned the legend of the bent or twisted trees.”

  “Powaw and Kamenna have taught me many of our legends, but I’ve never heard that one.”

  “It is said that many years ago, our forefathers would mark the path for generations to follow by bending trees and twisting trunks.”

  “How does someone bend a tree?”

  “It is an ancient art where one would put a charred piece of wood under the bark and into the live wood of a tree so that it could no longer grow in a certain direction. This forced the tree to bend in a different direction. Each shape had a different meaning.”

  “What does a Y-shape mean?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because that’s the tree I want you to see.”

  White Eagle started to quicken his ste
p. “It means the true path is found in the eye of the needle.”

  Riddles, Pamoon thought, quickening her own step to keep up. Here I was, finally understanding something he said, and he goes back to speaking in riddles. As White Eagle raced ahead, she slapped her thigh in frustration and stopped. “Wait!”

  “What is it?”

  She pointed left. “You’re going the wrong way.”

  “Oh,” White Eagle blushed. “Sorry, I guess I just got excited.”

  Once again moving at a conversational pace, Pamoon asked White Eagle to finish his story about the powwow.

  “On the day I was to compete against other young braves in the art of weaponry, I saw a young girl.” He stopped and closed his eyes.

  Pamoon imagined he was picturing the girl.

  “She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I spent all day trying to think of a way to say hello. Instead of practicing, I wandered around like a love-struck fool. While daydreaming, I walked right into someone and knocked her down. When I realized what I had done, I offered an apology and helped the poor girl up. That’s when I realized it was her. I was so tongue-tied, I stammered like a fool. Thank god, she spoke first.

  “We spent the rest of the powwow together and when it was time to leave, I asked my father and hers if I could stay among the Seminoles.”

  “That was a little fast, wasn’t it?”

  “When you discover your true path, there is no such thing as too fast.”

  “What was your path?”

  “To spend the rest of my days trying to make her happy.”

  “That girl was Aunt Hurit?”

  “Eha.”

  “And here I was thinking the chief of the Cree was some great warrior,” Pamoon nudged White Eagle. “Yet, all along, you were some big softie.”

  White Eagle grumbled. “This story remains between the two of us, understand?”

  Pamoon smiled ear-to-ear. “Your secret’s safe with me, Chief.”

  White Eagle just shook his head. “You’re sounding more like my sister, every day.”

  “Which one?”

  “Both.”

  Pamoon laughed.

  * * *

  A few minutes later, she stopped on the trail.

  “What is it?”

  She pointed between two large pine trees. “The bent tree is just beyond those pines.”

  She led White Eagle on a narrow path partially hidden by brush to the other side of the pines. There in front of them grew the Y-shaped tree.

  As Pamoon approached it, Scout started to whine. She ran her hands over the trunk and Scout jumped up, his paws on the point of the ‘Y’ and began to howl. Jerking on his leash, Pamoon stared at the tree. “This can’t be,” she said.

  “What can’t be?” White Eagle mumbled while examining the bend in the trunk.

  “When I ran by here yesterday, there were gouges in the bark. I thought they were knife marks made by the guys the night before, but now they’re gone.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I mean it was real foggy, but I know what I saw.”

  “Pamoon, I was in the woods early yesterday morning; there was no fog.”

  Pamoon didn’t know what to say or do, she just stared at the chief, her pulse racing. “These woods were covered with fog.”

  “No, they weren’t. And I’ll tell you something else. I’ve lived in and around these woods for nearly fifty years, and this tree has never been here.”

  She put her hands on her hips and stared at him. “What are you trying to say?”

  He grabbed her by the hand and started walking back to the reservation. “I’m saying you’ve found the entrance to the Misty Woods. An entrance that’s making itself known to you.”

  Pamoon jerked her hand free. “Wait. What do you mean, it’s making itself known to me?”

  “Come. There is no time for explanation. We have much to do. And we need to find Powaw.”

  17

  Vanished

  March 3, 11:45 a.m.

  * * *

  Exiting the woods, Pamoon saw Tihk standing with a bunch of men in the distance, including the Chief of Police from the neighboring town as well as most of the tribal police.

  She saw Tihk raise his head from the discussion and wave to her. She waved back, about to say something, but realized he wasn’t waving at her; he was signaling for the Chief to join the discussion. From where she stood, it looked as if Tihk was arguing with the police chief. He was shaking his head and moving his lips as if to say no, in an exaggerated motion.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know,” White Eagle answered. “Go back to the house and wait for me there.”

  “No. I want to know what’s happening.” She was about to keep arguing when she saw Nuna and Tsomah coming toward her from the house. They waved for her to come along. Fine, she thought. I’ll probably learn more from them anyway.

  * * *

  White Eagle had called a meeting and Pamoon was surprised to have been invited. Normally, just the tribe’s elders were invited to the chief’s meetings. Entering the same hall where her birthday had been celebrated, she was even more surprised to see who was present. It was just White Eagle and Tihk at the table as she, Nuna, and Tsomah walked in; Scout by her side.

  No one spoke as they joined the men at the table. White Eagle cleared his throat. “I’ve been with the tribal police and Police Chief Tucker from Swamp Ridge.”

  Pamoon always thought it was a strange name for the bordering town, considering there were no ridges around the Everglades. She wiped the thought from her mind as he continued speaking, “While Pamoon and I were on the west side of the woods, Tihk and the police were canvasing the east side.”

  “Near the campsite?” Pamoon asked.

  “Eha. Since Tihk saw everything firsthand, I’m going to let him explain why I called this meeting.”

  Tihk swept his hair from his face and tied it back with a rubber band. “Yesterday, after the party, I spoke to the boys’ parents. None of them had seen the kids since they left for the campsite. Each thought the boys were staying at another’s house, so they didn’t think too much of it. When they didn’t show up last night, they got worried and called in the tribal police. Before they arrived, I went to the campground to see if I could figure out what happened.” He looked at the chief for affirmation, then continued, “The strange thing was, I didn’t find any footprints besides Pamoon’s and Tsomah’s, or any other sign the boys had ever been there.”

  “That’s crazy!” Pamoon said, her voice rising. “I know they were there. What about all the trash?”

  Tihk held his hand up, signaling her to be quiet. Pausing to recall the events, he answered her, “The trash had already been incinerated.”

  Pamoon just shook her head. “This is crazy,” she huffed.

  “When I returned to the reservation,” Tihk continued, “Swamp Ridge’s police had arrived, and they brought their dogs with them. The police had spoken to the parents earlier, so they had pieces of the boys’ clothing.”

  “For the dogs to track the guys?”

  Tihk nodded in her direction.

  “They can’t track any better than you can,” Pamoon interjected.

  Tihk ignored her and continued. “We went back to the camp and let the dogs sniff around. They found no trace of the boys.”

  Pamoon’s hands balled into fists. She was fuming and wanted to scream. She felt Nuna’s hand patting her thigh. Slumping in her chair, she rolled her eyes.

  Tihk shook his head and lowered it, staring at the ground. “The dogs became skittish the closer we got to the camp. They started to whine and tried to turn back, but their handlers coaxed them to continue searching. Closer to the site, they started to growl. They became agitated and bared their teeth. They even tried to turn on their handlers.”

  “That’s how Scout behaved on our run.”

  Tihk nodded. “The K9 officers had no choice but to take the do
gs back to the truck and return them to the kennel.” He looked at Pamoon. “I’m telling you, there was no sign that any of the guys had ever been there. Not at the site, not in the woods—nowhere other than the reservation. Any trace of them stopped where the reservation meets the forest. Period.”

  Pamoon couldn’t hold in her frustration any longer. “That’s nuts! You know and I know that they go into the woods all the time. They practically live at the campsite!”

  “Calm down, Pamoon,” White Eagle scolded.

  She sat back with a grunt and crossed her arms over her chest. “So, you’re saying I’m lying? You’re saying Tsomah is lying?”

  “That’s not what Tihk is saying,” the chief said. “Listen.”

  “I’m not doubting you or Tsomah,” Tihk said. “I’m only telling you what the evidence showed.”

  “So you believe me?”

  “Yes, we believe you,” White Eagle said.

  “Then what does all this mean? Is Bobby dead?” The word caught in her throat as she said it.

  Tihk’s expression was blank. “We don’t know. I mean, there is no evidence of foul play, but there is no evidence of anything.”

  Just then the door opened and Powaw walked in carrying the leather jacket.

  “Where did you get that?” Pamoon said.

  “At White Eagle’s. When I came home from the sweat lodge, I was exhausted and laid down for a few minutes. I woke up hours later. When I did, I went to White Eagle’s hoping to tell him what the spirits revealed. That’s when I saw the jacket on the table. I asked around and discovered all of you were here, so I came.” Powaw laid the jacket on the table.

  “Sit, my friend.” White Eagle said. “Tell us what you have learned.”

  Pointing at the jacket, he said, “You already know what I learned.” Facing Pamoon he said, “I don’t think the boys are dead, but I don’t think they are alive either.”