The Valley of Dry Bones

by Jerry B. Jenkins

  “Those guys would be goin’ with you?”

  “And probably Willard.”

  “You changin’ your rules, Zeke?”

  “You mean Doc and me being together on an op?”

  “Yeah. ’Cause this one is really gonna be dangerous.”

  “Still praying about it.”

  Zeke sent Benita to ask Danley if Cristelle was up to seeing Willard. Mahir asked if he could go too. Zeke turned to Doc. “What do you think?”

  “Cristelle should be okay as long as you’re in there to keep the peace. That is a lot of people.” He counted on his fingers. “You, Mahir, Danley, Cristelle, Willard. I don’t need to be there. Neither does Benita.”

  Zeke told Doc about the meeting in his quarters afterward in anticipation of the burial service. “And yes, I’m planning on violating protocol. You all right with it if I decide to bring you along tonight?”

  “Hey, you’re talking to the new Adam. Just here to serve, and you know I mean that. But you might have to answer to my bride.”

  “Got it. See you in a few.”

  The meeting in the infirmary was almost as thrilling as the one in Zeke’s quarters had been. Willard was emotional just meeting Cristelle. “Last time I saw you, I thought I’d killed you,” he said. “Sorry jes’ doesn’t seem enough, but I am, an’ I mean it.”

  “I know,” she said. “Danley told me what’s happened to you, and I want you to know we’ve forgiven you. Haven’t we, Danley?”

  “We have. And we forgive you too, Mahir. Both of us.”

  Mahir looked to Danley as if to see if it were true. Danley nodded. “I’m not gonna pretend it’s easy, but we either believe this stuff or we don’t.”

  “Willard and I have a meeting to get to before he leaves,” Zeke said. “Can I trust you three together?”

  “Mahir’s why we’re here,” Cristelle said. “We need to get to know him again.”

  “We all do, Mahir,” Zeke said, pulling him into the hall. He whispered, “I’ll be telling the whole team this before the end of the day. The elders are going to serve as your parole board for six months. You’ll report to us. You won’t be armed during that time, you won’t go outside alone, and you won’t leave the compound area. We’ll monitor all your assignments, which will be drastically altered from what you’re used to.”

  “I’m just grateful to still be here, Zeke.”

  “You realize if you were anywhere but California, you’d be behind bars.”

  “I do.”

  “We’ll see how it goes.”

  When Zeke and Willard got back to the Thorppes’ quarters, Alexis had already let in Bob, Katashi, Doc, and the Gutierrezes. “Gabi’s with Jennie,” she told him. “Sasha’s with the kids. Elaine’s on watch. I want to sit in on this if you’re still planning on going tonight.”

  “In case you have to put a forty-caliber bullet right between my—”

  “Stop it.”

  “You were great, Lexi.”

  “I almost wet myself.”

  “So did I.”

  He had everyone sit at the table in the kitchen. “Raoul and Benita have been monitoring the TV news audio feeds to see if anything’s been said about the military buildup in California.”

  “And they’ve all been talkin’ about it,” Benita said. “The news changes and gets more loco all the time.”

  “I can hardly wait,” Zeke said.

  “We started listenin’ right after Willard got here,” Raoul said. “Man, it’s the most craziest, messed-up story you ever heard. They got it all wrong, mixin’ a little of this with a lot of that, and makin’ up somethin’ that’s supposed to be bigger than Jonestown and Waco and Ruby Ridge put together. And you’re like the dictator of this cult, and—”

  “I am?” Zeke said.

  “Yeah, and Doc is the mad doctor, killin’ the members and committin’ mass genocide on the Indian tribes.”

  “They’re mentioning us by name?” Doc said.

  “Not only that,” Benita said, “they’re interviewin’ people who know you, like the doctor that runs that medical group you belonged to. He was sayin’ they always knew you were involved in something strange and they had to part ways with you.”

  “What?”

  “And Pastor Bob,” Raoul said, “your son-in-law was on there sayin’ he knew years ago that you would murder your wife. And Zeke, an Indian Affairs agent said you escaped from custody with the help of your vast network of coconspirators. But a member of the Shadow Wolves tracked you down and knows you head up—what did he call it, Benita?”

  “A warren.”

  “Yeah, a warren of underground bunkers full of hundreds of armed combatants and, what was it? Munitions dumps.”

  “What are Shadow Wolves?” Alexis said.

  “A really small contingent of highly specialized Native American trackers who cooperate with the government,” Bob said. “The only hole in that theory is that they don’t come from the tribes we work with or live anywhere near us. Makes for a good story, though. I could see Kineks wanting to be part of that, but there’s only about fifteen of them representing a whole bunch of tribes, just none of them hers.”

  “Where do they come up with all this stuff?” Zeke said. “What possible intelligence could they be relying on to concoct all that? They fly choppers directly over our only location and roll a tank right over the top of us and don’t know where we are or that this is the only place we are?”

  “It has to be President Scott,” Bob said. “The election’s coming up, he needs something dramatic to get reelected. A noisy raid that heads off a 9/11 or a Paris shooting before it begins makes him a hero—as good as being a wartime president. Government agencies piece together bits of unrelated information and build a huge story they start believing themselves.”

  “It’s just ludicrous,” Zeke said. “Makes me almost wish we were a threat to the US government. We’re so small-time, it’s laughable! Aren’t they gonna look like fools when it turns out we’re just thirteen schlumps and three kids who live in a cave and act as a sort of poor man’s Salvation Army? I mean, we help poor people and tell ’em about Jesus.”

  “That’s the problem, Zeke,” Bob said. “If they paint this thing to the public like we’re some dire threat that Derrick Scott must stop at all costs, the last thing he wants is for us to turn out to be paper tigers. Even if all he’s authorized so far is six or eight helicopters, a dozen tanks, and a couple of personnel transport trucks—and you know he’s probably mobilized exponentially more than that—they’re well into a seven-figure investment already.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Raoul said, “they’ve even got a name for it: Operation Dry Bones.”

  “Really?” Zeke said. “They’re going Old Testament on us? One of the networks, or—”

  “They’re all calling it that,” Benita said, “so it musta come from Washington, eh?”

  “Sure seems like a stretch, but whatever captures the public’s imagination, I guess.”

  “My point,” Bob said, “is that what might seem the best course for us would be the biggest embarrassment for the president.”

  “You mean immediately going public with the naked truth?” Zeke said.

  “Sure. We’ve broken no laws; we’ve only tried to help people. We’ve given up normal lives, willingly sacrificed everything. There are only this many of us, no network, no warren; we’re basically Christian missionaries, social workers. We don’t force our beliefs on anyone. We have a few converts, we have a few detractors. We have weapons for hunting and self-protection but we’ve never fired at anyone. The respected tribal leader of the Nuwuwu and his successor son will testify that Doc has never met, let alone treated, the woman they’re burying tonight—that his heavy medications and embalming fluids are for one of our own, end of story.”

  “Right,” Zeke said. “You shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.”

  “But in this case,” Bob said, “that has a huge downside. It makes the
government, particularly the sitting president, look like a buffoon.”

  “Truth hurts,” Doc said.

  “It could hurt us,” Bob said. “You can see why the administration might stop at nothing to keep the truth from being revealed. If the press and the public were to find out how much time and effort went into such a meaningless operation—even if Scott could convince them he had been led to believe we were a real threat—he’d never survive the outcry. It would be considered just another politically manufactured military offensive for the sake of a president’s image.”

  “So he needs us to be the evil menace he claims we are,” Zeke said.

  “We’ve got no one to blame but ourselves,” Doc said. “I’ve got to take my share for those reckless prescriptions.”

  “I smarted off to a federal agent,” Zeke said, “then showed him my ID, then spouted prophecies and raced off in the night. I sure fit the profile.”

  “I know I wasn’t part o’ yer team, but I tol’ you I had a guy on the take. I was playin’ the big shot and tol’ him you had a terrorist in the camp.”

  “Well, there you go,” Doc said. “And with the Nuwuwu tribal leader’s daughter-in-law conspiring against us, you just know the feds will be lying in wait for us tonight.”

  “You can’t go,” Alexis said.

  Everyone nodded. Except Zeke. “I’m not so sure.”

  “Under what possible circumstance would it make sense?” Katashi said.

  Zeke chuckled.

  “I find nothing funny about this,” Alexis said.

  “Well, I don’t either, really,” Zeke said. “But what has made sense this week? I’m certainly not going to decide based on whether it makes sense. It’s solely about what I believe God wants. Anyone who does not share that peace will not be required to go.”

  “How are you going to decide?” Bob said.

  “I’m going to pray. And within two hours of sundown, I’ll decide. If we go, I’d like it to be you, Bob, along with Katashi and Doc and me. Willard, you don’t report to me, but I would expect to meet you there.”

  “I’m goin’ whether y’all go or not.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well, b’fore it was ’cause I knew they didn’t want me and I was bein’ cantankerous. But now it’s ’cause o’ what you said was gonna happen at that service. And I wanna tell ’em ’bout what happened to me. Maybe they’ll be nicer to me now if at least some of ’em and me b’lieve the same. Plus, I gotta find out if all them tanks and choppers got Special Forces in ’em and what they’re up to.”

  “You’d better get going. Raoul, give him his weapons at the door. What’re you going to do for wheels, Willard, assuming you’re giving up the truck?”

  “I got a little money. Maybe buy me a bike or somethin’. I’ll walk if I hafta. But I’ll git there. And somehow I still got to get word to Aunt Myrt. Ain’t that gonna be a time!”

  The Gutierrezes and Willard rose and Bob said, “Zeke, we ought to pray for our new brother before he leaves. Zeke?”

  “Z,” Alexis said, “Bob’s talking to you.”

  “Sorry. Give me a minute. Willard, sit down a minute, will you? Raoul and Benita, you can go. Thanks, by the way. Good work.”

  Raoul said, “I still got his guns—”

  “Yeah, hang on to those for now. Check on Elaine, see how things are going outside.”

  When they were gone, Zeke sat staring as the others waited. Willard’s mention of a bike and of his aunt had triggered something he was sure was of God, and Zeke was determined to let it come together in his mind.

  “Sorry, everybody,” he said.

  “We trust you, Zeke,” Bob said. “Take your time.”

  “Lexi, get me pen and paper. Please.”

  When she brought it she asked if he was okay. He nodded.

  “Willard, what’s your aunt’s last name?”

  “Geer.”

  “Remember her address?”

  He recited her box number and county road in Pigeon Forge, but he couldn’t remember the zip.

  “Phone number?”

  “I’d only be guessin’, but it’s listed.”

  “The name of the BIA agent on the take.”

  “Clarence Cianci, but I don’t know how to spell it.”

  “Probably just like it sounds.”

  “Where you going with this?” Doc said.

  Zeke sat back. “Tell you in a second. Willard, you disconnected the battery on Agents Fritz and Cianci’s car the other night and then led them the wrong direction when they tried to find me. How’d you talk your way out of that?”

  “I tol’ ’em some kids in the tribe had done that to my truck battery once too, an’ I was surprised they even know how since none of ’em had cars. Then I tol’ ’em you musta got a ride er somethin’ ’cause you were right around there somewhere, only I couldn’t find where I’d let ya off.”

  “They bought it?”

  “They weren’t happy, but they had no choice.”

  “You think they still trust you?”

  “Cianci does. I never miss a payment, and he looks the other way.”

  “This all hinges on how sure you are you weren’t followed here.”

  “I wasn’t. Yer people’d know by now, wouldn’t they?”

  “Let us all in on this, Zeke,” Bob said.

  “That’s what I was going to say,” Doc said. “Enough mystery.”

  “It’s still coming together,” Zeke said, “and I’m going to need a lot of help this afternoon. But President Scott needs me to be the crazy leader of a huge armed cult that’s a threat to the US and indigenous California tribes, right?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “And we believe God has called me to speak for Him to a huge audience.”

  No one nodded, but it was plain they were listening.

  “Through Willard, I have access to a federal agent who sounds like the type who’d love to be a hero. I’m guessing Clarence Cianci would enjoy being the guy who could relay messages between me and whoever has been assigned to apprehend me tonight.

  “It appears the president wants a very public success. But imagine how many emotional points he can score with the masses if in the process he honors the sacred grounds of the tribe, the burial service of a 101-year-old Native American, the wishes of her son, the tribal leader, and the public even gets to hear the rants of the crazy cult leader before he and his adherents are forced to surrender without a shot.”

  “And this all came to you in the last few moments?” Bob said.

  “I can’t claim it as my own.”

  “How do you intend to pull this off?” Katashi said.

  “By working up through the chain of command. Willard will connect me with Clarence. Clarence will connect me with the commander in charge of Operation Dry Bones. The commander will connect me with the White House. And before the five of us show up at the burial service tonight, the loony leader of the California terrorist cult threatening the safety of North America will negotiate with the president of the United States.”

  “You are a crazy man,” Alexis said.

  “Aren’t I?”

  “You don’t actually expect to speak with the president, do you?” Doc said.

  “No. But with someone with the authority to speak for him.”

  “And what about the US policy that forbids negotiating with terrorists?”

  “He can save face on that too. All he need do is insist on honoring the revered tribal leader, octogenarian Kaga. In recognition of his willingness to allow troops on his sacred land, the president will ask that a brief portion of the ceremony for his mother be broadcast live. What an altruistic thing for a president to do. I will be required to do nothing to stand in the way of that caveat. The president will get the credit for showing the ultimate respect and in some small way healing relations between the government and Native Americans.

  “And with the pool network feed under presidential order not to be delayed or interrupted, I
will, at Kaga’s request, share the verse that was found clutched in his mother’s hand at her death, as well as whatever else God gives me to say.”

  “To the nation,” Bob said.

  “And probably the world,” Doc said.

  33

  THE CALL

  ZEKE REALIZED HOW INEPT the planning had been on the part of the government when it became obvious that no traffic, military or otherwise, had been within sight of the compound since Willard had arrived. Still, in the interest of caution, he planned an elaborate scheme to put into effect the negotiations he hoped to complete well in advance of the burial service that night. A lot would have to happen in a very short time.

  Zeke released Doc to check on Cristelle, and Bob to be with Jennie. Alexis went to spell Benita so she could teach the kids.

  “Katashi, Willard and I need your mind on this.”

  “I’m not sure you wanna know what I think, Zeke. Truthfully, it’s sounding nuttier by the minute.”

  “But doing nothing is a choice too,” Zeke said. “I’d rather be proactive. We sit here and wait for them to come to us, they’ll find us. We’ve got to act while they think we’re dangerous. If they had any idea what they were really dealing with, do you think they’d have a tenth of the personnel or equipment they’ve sent?”

  “I suppose not, but—”

  “Of course they wouldn’t. Now I need to communicate with Kaga. By now, just with my name and address, they have enough on me to know who I am, what I look like, everything. I don’t dare leave here without guaranteed protection. And I need a means of communication beyond these toy walkie-talkies. You know the military has something I can use. Let’s find a way to get our hands on it.”

  “I know I sound like a clod kicker,” Willard said, “but I kin git this done. Git me back to my truck, give me a ride er somethin’ so I’m not exposed out there too long. Then I’ll go straight to the Injuns, ’cause Clarence’s got to be there. You know he’s the reason the cavalry showed up, ’cause o’ somethin’ I said about yer terrorist. I kin git him aside and do what you said ’bout makin’ him a real hero. I’ll make him the main man, the guy who kin deliver you, but what’s he got to give you?”