Shadows 01 Superstition Shadows

by K C West

  “Nothing that I could—”

  “C’mon, Sandy,” I interrupted, giving him a gentle push toward the entrance. “Doc needs to finish dressing and washing up.”

  “Oh, sorry. Sure thing.”

  As I followed Sandy out of the tent, I called over my shoulder to Kim. “Hope what little hot water I left you didn’t cool off too much.”

  Ten minutes later, I sat with the crew while the sun made its grand entrance. Kim joined us to hear more stories from the arriving students. Laine reported that the seismologists feared more quakes and damage in the days ahead. “Probably aftershocks,” Sandy said, “not as strong and not as damaging as the main quake.”

  Kim shook her head. “It depends on how much slippage occurred along the fault line. The stress builds up over the years, often hundreds of years, and is released by an earthquake. If the initial shock released all the tension, then we can expect only some minor shakes as the fault settles. Let’s hope that’s what happened and that it wasn’t a strong foreshock. But since we can’t do anything about it, I suggest we get to work.”

  Chapter Eleven

  After many days of digging, we had found little other than some shards of traditional Hohokam, red on buff pottery and a small animalistic figurine; a legacy, we believed, from their Mexican neighbors.

  Watching PJ work and the way her fingers caressed each piece as she examined it reminded me of the healing touch of her hands that day, when she had rubbed the ache out of my shoulder. What an awkward, yet pleasurable experience it had been for me. Just thinking about it now made my spine tingle and my stomach flutter. I had come as close as I dared to revealing my feelings for her. Not only was she straight, but she was an employee … coming on to her would be unprofessional.

  Oh, PJ, if you only knew….

  I was impressed with how much PJ had matured since we first met just three months ago. There were no more indiscretions with alcohol, no more flirting with all the guys, and no more screw-ups. She had changed, too, after her altercation with Stephen. Her dedication to our project was complete. I watched her interact with the crew. She was friendly, but with an air of maturity. She seemed comfortable as my right hand, an assistant with the capability of holding a team together. I had learned years ago, after some disastrous situations, that when in a position of authority, you can be a friend, but never a pal.

  I was pleased when, on her own initiative, PJ established weekly dinner meetings at Missus O’Brien’s Home Style Dining. She had suggested to the owner, none other than the portly Missus O’Brien herself, that we have a standing reservation for the private dining room. I smiled to myself when I thought about *t-When PJ suggested, people listened. She had a knack, that one, except when it came to her father. He and she remained politely aloof. And on more than one occasion I had seen her in tears after talking to him on the telephone.

  I found our off-site gatherings at Missus O’Brien’s both stimulating and relaxing. Pictures and posters of the Faire Isle decorated the walls of the private dining room. It was there, usually over dessert and coffee, that we reviewed suggestions from every team member and discussed any current problems.

  “Don’t you wish,” PJ said, with a sigh, “that our Lost Tribe had migrated to a lush green spot like that?” She pointed to one of the pictures. A stone wall in the foreground led the viewer’s eye into a pastoral scene of rolling, green fields dotted with wild flowers. “Why in gawd’s name did they pick this place?”

  “Maybe they were lost,” Josie said.

  “The lost Lost Tribe,” James quipped.

  “Could be,” Mike said, “after all they didn’t have a man along to show them the way.”

  “Smart ass!” Laine was close enough to Mike to grab his arm and twist it behind his back.

  “Hey, that hurts.”

  “So apologize.”

  “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.”

  “Gawd, what a grouch,” Mike said, when Laine released his arm. He rubbed his shoulder.

  “Okay, peace in the ranks,” I said, trying to sound severe. I don’t think it worked because I couldn’t stifle a chuckle. I liked the way my team could banter together and tease each other. It helped carry them through those long, dusty days of hard work.

  With dinner over and business talk out of the way, we retired to the bar, a replica of a Dublin pub, to play darts. The play was deadly serious and stress relieving. The winner was excused for one week from all the unsavory on-site jobs like packing out trash and emptying the Porta Potti tank into the blue, wheeled honey bucket and hauling it out to the dump station down on the highway.

  I had lost count of the days we scraped and turned the dirt. The daily high temperatures had slowly dropped from the high nineties and low one hundreds into the seventies. This brought blessed relief when working, as we were, in the open with no shade and with the sun bouncing off the rocky surface.

  I was feeling particularly lethargic when we broke for lunch, as was everyone. It was that kind of day. The air was warm, sweet smelling, and still — so very, very still, though charged with the buzz of unseen insects.

  I was sitting on the ground taking advantage of the scattered shade of a scrawny juniper. When I leaned my head back against its rough bark, it crackled like dried grass. I closed my eyes.

  When I opened them again, I saw that PJ had shifted positions. She was now lying on her back, her body shaded by a large rock. Her eyes were closed. I put on my sunglasses and with my head tilted, observed her out of the corner of my eye and from behind my shades.

  PJ, you’re something. But you know that, don’t you? If you only knew how much I admire your healthy body, your shiny blonde hair, and those devilish green eyes. I adore your sense of humor and your ready smile. You add so much to my day … I leaned my head against the tree again and closed my eyes. And, I have to admit, my nights as well, because I think of you often when I’m lying there in the dark … when I’m lonely and can’t sleep. Sometimes I have difficulty remembering that you’re a trusted colleague and friend, nothing more.

  An insect buzzing around my head brought me out of my reverie. The juniper bark was beginning to itch though my shirt. I scanned the clearing and the crew’s lunch-break activities. Off to my right, Sandy and Laine were discussing the destruction of ancient sites in the Middle East and the implications of its loss to historians as well as the worldwide archaeological community. Josie was lying on her side on a piece of faded blue tarp. She was engrossed in a Patricia Cornwell mystery. As far as I knew Josie was straight. I think though that a little piece of her was in love with Cornwell’s Kay Scarpetta character. Better to fall in love with a fictional character than a live being, I thought. Less heartache.

  I was proud of the way we worked together, and how well we relaxed together as a group. Was that my doing or PJ’s? We’ve come closer, I think, since her arrival. She has a way, that one. I chuckled to myself.

  The rest of the crew were clearing away their lunch trash and preparing to return to work.

  Pup’s limbs were twitching. I imagined he was dreaming about roaming free with the wolf pack. “Enjoy it, fella,” I whispered. “Enjoy the moment.”

  I rolled onto my back and with my hands behind my head and knees bent, watched the scattered, fluffy white clouds drifting across the otherwise brilliant blue sky. Cactus wrens twittered. The occasional tapping I heard was a Gila woodpecker hard at work. From where I lay, I was able to identify Juniper and Net Leaf Hackberry. I prided myself on my knowledge of the desert environment. Knowing it and coming to terms with it helped me understand what my Amazons were up against when they entered this unforgiving land.

  It’s such a perfect day. I should give everyone the afternoon off.

  Too late, PJ was on her feet and moving toward me. She stopped in front of me, saying nothing, but looking at me with a raised eyebrow.

  “What?”

  “C’mon, Doc, or are you planning on lying about all afternoon?”

  “Slave driver,
” I muttered, dragging myself to my feet.

  “What’s with the birds?” PJ asked. They were flying in erratic circles and screeching loudly enough to awaken the dead. I scrambled to my feet. “What the hell …”

  Without warning, Pup howled and ran toward me, almost knocking me over. By now, everyone was on their feet. I was disoriented. My vision was blurred. I couldn’t focus on anything. My balance was off. The rumbling sounded like an approaching locomotive. I saw Laine scramble to her feet only to fall down. The ground heaved beneath me. Why did I take that moment to remember a white water raft trip I’d taken down the Colorado? The difference; I had some control in the raft, here I had none.

  “Oh, my gawd, Kim!” PJ grabbed me. We both fell. The earthquake lasted a long time though in real time it was less than a minute.

  I pried myself from PJ’s tenacious grip. “It’s over.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Well, I can’t be sure, but …” PJ’s eyes reflected her fear. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “You’d better be right, lady.”

  I squeezed her arm. “I know one thing,” I said, choking on the cloud of dust that enveloped us, “that was no aftershock.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  The alarm in PJ’s eyes was close to panic. I put my arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay … we’re okay.”

  The dust covered us like fine rain until we were all looking like human dirt devils. I could taste the grit, which had gotten into my mouth and lungs. I needed to rinse my mouth but couldn’t see my water bottle anywhere.

  I tried to spit but my saliva had dried up. PJ was coughing, trying unsuccessfully to clear her throat and lungs.

  “There it is.” My water bottle was lying in a hollow six feet away. I let go of PJ and dashed for the bottle, grabbing it, and returning to her side.

  I offered it first to PJ. “Here, wash out your mouth.”

  She did, spitting a brown stream onto the ground. “Thank you, Kim, now you.”

  I took the bottle from her and did the same. It helped ~ a little.

  Everyone was coughing, spluttering.

  I looked around. Every grubby face was wide eyed. “Sandy, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, Doc, I’m good.”

  “Laine?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Josie?”

  “I broke a nail.”

  “No self respecting archaeologist keeps her nails any longer than nubs.”

  “Mikey Boy, unlike you, I have a life down there.” She pointed toward Phoenix.

  Their banter relieved some of the fear we all felt.

  “The rest of you are okay?”

  They answered in unison. We had sustained a few scratches but nothing more serious.

  “Okay, I guess we were lucky. Let’s go get those scratches cleansed and band aids on them if necessary.”

  The slightest sound caused everyone to jump. Although it was hard to see beneath the grime, I was sure everyone’s complexion was several shades whiter than before the quake. I walked over to the partially fallen tent and grabbed the first aid kit and several bottles of water. Sandy relieved me of my load and handed them around.

  I returned to PJ and stood next to her, my back to the group. “We’re okay,” I said, my voice calm and under control. “You look like hell though.”

  “Yeah. Who’d know I even showered this morning.”

  “Only you, darling, only you.” I blushed under the grime when the endearment slipped out. I cleared my throat, as much in embarrassment as to clear the grit.

  Sandy went for the radio and twiddled the dial until he found a Phoenix station that was broadcasting. There was fear in the announcer’s voice, an excited trembling as he rattled off the latest news. “Early reports indicate some structural damage both in the city and in outlying communities.” He went on to warn of broken glass everywhere, but fell silent when a small aftershock rumbled through the area.

  “Kim!” PJ dropped to the ground, I suppose because she felt safer sitting rather than standing.

  I went to PJ and dropped to my knees beside her. “Relax, it was just an aftershock,” I said, addressing the group. Josie, following PJ’s example, sat down. I put my arm around PJ’s shoulder and pulled her close to me. “We’ll feel a lot of those for the next few days, but the worst is behind us.”

  “I feel so silly, but the thought of an earthquake scares me to death,” PJ said. “I’d rather deal with tornadoes. At least you can see them coming.”

  “Hey, it’s not silly at all. We’re all scared when the earth trembles. We feel vulnerable because there’s nothing stable to hold onto.”

  “Except each other. Thanks.” She gave me one of her adorable lop-sided grins.

  “Anytime.” I wanted to hug her, but I didn’t. That would scare me more than the earthquake.

  The announcer came back on the air, his voice devoid of the smooth patter so recognizable on the morning news. His nervousness was evident in his frequent pauses and the slight tremble that weakened his trained speaking voice. “Many areas of the city are without power but utility companies are dispatching crews to assess the extent of damage. Early reports place the epicenter of the seven point nine quake ten miles north of Santa Ana in Sonora, Mexico. Fragmentary information indicates severe damage there with loss of life in Hermosillo and smaller communities.”

  Sandy shook his head. “Geez, those poor people….”

  The birds had settled down but Pup was nowhere to be seen.

  “Hey!” It was Laine. She had wandered away from the group clustered in front of me. “There’s been a rock slide … over here.”

  I turned toward the sound of her voice. She was standing near the pit where we had been working earlier, before the quake. Rocks and large boulders had rolled into and had obliterated our work site.

  “Shit!”

  What if we had been there … working? I felt the color drain from my face. How fortunate for us all that it happened while we were at lunch.

  PJ, her fear of earthquakes forgotten, was off and scrambling up and over the rocks.

  “PJ, get back here, we don’t know how stable—”

  “I’ll take care, but I gotta see … looks like we have a cave up here.”

  Even from here I could see a small opening in the canyon wall, about five meters above the rubble. “C’mon, people, let’s go assess the damage.”

  “Look at this,” Sandy said, voicing my earlier thoughts. “What if we’d been working … if we hadn’t been on a lunch break … if we’d done what we usually do, eaten individually as the mood struck?”

  I shivered. What if, indeed? We’d probably be digging out the badly injured or, worse yet, the dead.

  Josie crossed herself and looked upward. Her lips were moving.

  I continued to stare in disbelief at the pile of rocks and boulders that had buried our pit. I didn’t want to think about what might have happened if the quake had occurred earlier. Sweat oozed through my pores. Although I wasn’t a religious person, I was spiritual, and mouthed gratitude to my Higher Power.

  PJ slid on some loose rocks and tore her pants.

  “Be careful.”

  “Yes, Mother Hen.”

  I chuckled nervously.

  She had made it to the opening in the cliff face. It wasn’t terribly large, more like a horizontal slit, wider in the middle. I imagined that it was likely home to some critter.

  “PJ, do be careful … you don’t know what’s in there. It could be a rattlesnake lair.”

  “Don’t worry, I will.” She peered into the hole, then turned toward us and scanned the area. “My flashlight’s in the pack over by that old juniper. Could somebody throw it up to me, please?”

  I happened to be closest so I went for it. The pack, like everything else, was coated in gritty, brown dust. I returned with the Mag Lite and tossed it to her.

  The crew waited, chatting among themselves. I wasn’t listening to them. I was way too conc
erned about PJ whose head, right arm, and shoulder had disappeared into the opening.

  “PJ, please be careful.” I wasn’t sure she could hear me.

  My concern for her was overwhelming.

  Gawd, don’t let it show.

  “PJ, please, there are likely to be more aftershocks.”

  She withdrew, but not because of my warning.

  “Kim, you’d better get up here.”

  Her excited tone hushed the conversation. I scrambled up the jumble of rocks to join her. My hands and feet grasped for the bigger boulders, testing each one, making sure it was stable before putting my weight on it.

  “Watch out, Doc!” I heard Sandy’s warning just as a large rock loosened under my hand. I grasped for another handhold as the loose boulder rolled to the bottom of the slide. Sandy, who was closest, leapt out of the way, scattering the already jumpy crew.

  “Take a look inside,” PJ said somberly, when I reached her. She had stepped to the side and was partially kneeling on a relatively secure boulder and holding on to another one. I couldn’t read her expression, but I knew from her tone that she had seen something in that dark and forbidding hole.

  I squeezed my head and arm into the opening and, for a moment, was aware of nothing except the overpowering smell of stale air and dust. I sneezed. I forgot everything else though when my beam of light picked up an incredible sight. “Oh, my gawd!”

  I backed out of the opening to face PJ. Her expression was serious … one hundred percent archaeologist. I scanned the faces of the crew. They stood in silence, in a semi circle at the base of the slide, waiting for us to say something.

  “It’s a cave and … well, you best get yourselves up here, one at a time. But please be careful. This stuff is unstable and I don’t want anyone breaking a leg.”

  “Stay put,” I said to PJ as I moved away from the opening and positioned myself between two precariously balanced boulders. PJ gripped my arm then let it go quickly, as if she felt she had taken liberties. “Kim, do you suppose…?”

  I shook my head. “It’s way too soon to even hazard a guess. As to what happened here … well, we just don’t know yet.”