by K. F. Baugh
“Don’t look down, Sage. Grab my hand!” Tim shouted.
Sage glanced up and saw him perched on the edge of a small ledge. He leaned over, arm extended. “Just a few more feet.”
A groaning sound came from below, and Sage gathered her feet underneath her. Another deafening crash exploded a few feet from her head. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw a contorted desk tumble to the floor next to the creature. Standing erect, now in its Skinwalker form, it snarled at the broken lump of metal and lunged toward another desk a few feet away. Sage forced herself to focus back on Tim and reached for another hold.
“Broken One,” the Skinwalker called with soft menace. Deep and guttural, his voice sounded like a tortured gear grinding through a broken clutch. “You cannot escape. The Wind is not here. There are no boundaries to hide behind. You are finally mine.”
His voice filled Sage with a debilitating, primal terror. She struggled to understand the sway it held over her, even as the panic it inspired overtook her mind. Her breath came in choking gasps. She felt her grip weakening. A panicked sob escaped her.
Sage glanced back over her shoulder. Slavering beneath her was the yee naaldlooshii, massive and hideous. Unbelievably, a desk lay cocked in its extended arm, and a look of triumph glowed in its red eyes. Its malicious laughter sapped the last of her strength. She felt first one finger slip. Then another.
“Sage!” The word broke into her fear hijacked mind, and she looked up. Tim strained toward her, reaching with extended fingers.
Her mind still blurred with the impenetrable haze of horror, Sage struggled to focus. What did Tim want from her? He called to her again, his face red with the effort, the veins in his neck bulging.
“Sage, stop! Stop looking at it!” His voice ricocheted through the cloying shadow of fear like a renegade bullet. Sage’s mind snapped back to attention. What was the matter with her? She readjusted her hands on the grip with renewed strength and determination.
A loud clattering sounded beneath her. “Quick, grab my hand!” Tim yelled in a hoarse voice. “Climb up here before that thing gets back up!”
Sage’s gaze locked on his, and with a mighty effort, she launched herself up the wall. Tim’s hand wrapped around hers with vice grip strength, and with a mighty heave, he dragged her onto the ledge.
A hideous shriek of rage erupted from below.
Tim pulled her against him in the shelter of the narrow opening and rested his chin on the top of her head. “You’re safe.” His voice and arms trembled. “But we’ve got to move before it starts tossing desks again.” He let go and gently pushed her into the opening in front of them.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sage crawled through the dark opening, wincing when its jagged rocks assaulted her pounding head and trembling limbs. She heard Tim’s exclamations of pain as they tore at him too.
Finally, the passageway enlarged. Sage straightened up, and Tim stood hunched next to her.
“What are all these tunnels?” Tim asked.
“I think they might be mineshafts,” Sage answered. “That’s why we can see. The miners would drill air shafts every so often to keep from suffocating. Sometimes light comes in too. Come on. We’d better keep moving.” Sage trotted forward.
“It seems like it’s going upward,” Tim observed as they continued to steadily jog.
Long minutes passed. What if this goes nowhere? Sage tried to tamp down the fear, but it would not be ignored. What if we’re just going deeper and deeper into the mountain? The thought of never seeing the sun again punched her in the gut. She forced back a shudder.
Just as she had convinced herself they should probably turn around, a dim flicker appeared before her.
“Tim, I think I see a light.”
“Finally,” he said, his relief palpable.
Light gray rocks were now visible, and the tunnel opened up. Sage rounded one last bend and felt a breath of air ruffle her hair.
Bright daylight flooded the chamber and blinded them. Tim and Sage tripped out onto a small overhang that quickly fell away to a steep canyon. A roaring waterfall poured from a ledge to her left and pounded down nearly 40 feet into the granite rocks and pools below.
Tim took a step back. “Whoa, that’s a steep drop.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Can you tell if it’s still coming?”
Sage closed her eyes and considered. “Yes.”
“Fast?”
“Yes.”
Tim crouched down and studied the rocks around the ledge. “I’m not sure how easy this will be to climb down. The wall is inverted, and I don’t see any hand or toe holds.”
“There’s no time, Tim. It’s almost here.” Sage gasped and a faint howl sounded from the opening.
Tim rubbed a weary hand across his eyes and stood. “Then I think we’re going to have to jump.” He studied the river below. “That one there.” He pointed to a pool far to their right. “That one looks pretty deep.”
Sage swallowed. “What if—”
“You go first,” Tim ordered. “I’ll jump when you’re all clear.”
“No, you should—”
A piercing cry echoed up the tunnel. Tim pulled Sage back. “Try to take a running jump.” The cry came again, louder. “Go!” he yelled and shoved her.
Sage sprinted a few short steps and vaulted into the air. She felt something crash into her back just as a roar erupted from behind her. It was followed by Tim’s agonized cry.
The ground approached, and Sage realized she’d over-jumped. She was too close to the lip of the granite pool. Turning, she tried to shield her body, but her shoulder slammed first into the water and then the unforgiving rock. Her head whiplashed into a scrubby pine tree at the pool’s edge. And then all faded into nothing.
As she ran through the woods, Sage could sense twilight rapidly approaching. The air was tinged with the cool scent of evening.
“Tsxį́įłgo!” The words sounded again and again from up ahead. Something crashed into her. A young woman, carrying an infant in one arm and leading a small girl with the other, struggled to keep up with the large group of women and children.
Sage paused and gestured to the girl. “Can I carry her?”
“Háíshąʼ ánítʼį́?” the woman replied.
Sage pointed to the girl and mimed carrying her. The woman nodded. “‘Aooʼ .”
Sage hefted the girl into her arms, and the two ran in the direction of the other women and children. After a few minutes, she caught up with them. They huddled at the edge of a cave.
Just like her vision before, it also had a partially frozen pool in front of it.
“Oh no.” Her mind lurched with the realization that they were about to be slaughtered. “Quick, everyone, we have to get out of here. They’re coming. They’re going to kill everyone!”
“Ge’!” several women whispered.
“Ha'it'iishq'?” A child whimpered only to be hushed by his mother.
A baby cried, and Sage felt a sick sense of dread, knowing the attack was mere seconds away. Even if the others wouldn’t follow her, she could at least save the child she held. Sage tightened her grip around the girl and tried to run, but found herself frozen to the ground.
She spied movement in the trees just beyond the pond and tried to scream, but her lips felt stiff. A loud shout sounded, and the strained silence was rent with cries of terror as a band of disheveled men advanced upon the group.
The girl in Sage’s arms wailed. Now finally able to break free from her paralysis, Sage dropped to the ground and shielded the child with her body. When she glanced up, her gaze was drawn into the dark woods. Through the swaying pine branches, she saw the pulsating eyes of the creature as it laughed, hidden behind the trees.
The stale scent of liquor filled her nose as an attacker paused before Sage and the child. He raised his arm to strike. Suddenly, his eyes glowed red, and his face transformed into the yee naaldlooshii.
“There is no escape for you, Broken One.” It laughed and
traced the curve of her back with the blade of the hatchet. “No escape!”
Sage’s hand darted from the trembling child to the knife she somehow knew would be strapped against her thigh. Jerking it loose, she quickly raised her arm and stabbed down hard, pinning the creature’s foot to the ground. A terrible howl rent the air as Sage picked up the child and raced through the dark woods.
Just as she was nearing a stand of aspen, a sharp pain cut into her back. Sage tripped, and as her vision went dark, she clutched desperately at the little one against her body. Now she was falling, falling.
Her body jolted awake before the impact.
“Sage!” a ragged voice called. ”Can you hear me?”
She cracked her eyelids open, but saw nothing in the thick darkness. The angry roars of the creature still echoed through her mind. A surge of nausea overpowered her, and Sage struggled not to gag. She tried to rub her eyes, but when she moved, a dull throb of pain shifted through her shoulders and upper back. She rotated her arm and heard a loud pop.
“Don’t move. Your shoulder … it’s dislocated, I think. Your ankle’s bad too--” The voice next to her broke into a hacking cough.
Sage gazed into darkness, but gradually her eyes adjusted to the light. She could barely make out the rocky ceiling several feet above her head. The smell of damp earth and the gentle drip of water overwhelmed her groggy senses.
Where am I? The confused images of Tim in biker gear, a giant underground warehouse, the creature chasing them, and a terrible massacre tried to arrange themselves in her mind. She longed for Gus and his comforting presence. Shifting slightly, Sage tested her body to see the extent of the damage. Her head, shoulder, and ankle throbbed with a steady persistence.
Gingerly, she raised herself up on her good arm. “Tim?” she whispered. “Are you here?”
A groan came from her left. She crawled toward it and collided with a body. “Tim, are you alright?”
“Not really.” Sage felt a jolt of shock as she realized the voice belonged to Tim. Without its usual deep, smooth timber, she hadn’t recognized the raw and painful rasp.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, letting her fingers run over his contorted body. His shoulders and chest were covered with sticky warmth. “You’re bleeding?”
“That ... thing got me,” he whispered, groaning in pain when her fingers probed his wounds. “Scratched my chest, throat, and face up pretty good. Think it did something to my voice.”
“Oh, Tim.” Sage’s fingers traveled to his face where she felt ragged flesh and more blood. Tears stung her eyes. “You should have jumped first.” Sage choked on the words.
Tim let out a broken chuckle. “Nah. I know you always have to--” his words dissolved into a painful cough.
Sage took a deep breath and struggled not to panic. Tim needed her logic right now, not her emotions. “What happened? Can you tell me, or does it hurt too much to talk?”
“I’m fine,” Tim said, but she noticed he forced his words out as if each one cost him something. “It all happened at once. You jumped. I heard a roar and turned to look into the tunnel. The creature burst through. It’s funny how surprised it looked. I don’t know. Maybe I imagined it. It attacked me. I thought I was a goner.”
“But, but how did you get away? How did I get away?”
“I’m not sure. The angel … the Wind was there, and I called for help. Then the creature went crazy. It thrashed around, like it was in pain. It knocked me off the cliff and then I seemed to float down to the pool, next to you.” Tim coughed and continued, his voice much weaker. “You weren’t awake, but I was pretty sure you were still alive.” He fell silent.
“Tim, stay with me! What else? What else happened?”
“You were laying there. I knew your body heals itself. I thought if I could get you out of the water … I think I dragged you to the far side of the stream, away from the tunnel. The Oriel side. Maybe the creature can’t get us here?” He coughed. “I found this cave and—” He coughed again and made a strange gurgling sound.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Sage ordered, terrified by the noise. “You need to rest. I’m going to see where we’re at and make sure I don’t sense the creature.” She had to think.
“OK,” Tim whispered his voice barely audible. “But don’t go far. Please.”
“I promise.” Sage swallowed and squeezed his cold hand.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sage crawled out of the cave and limped into the clearing. Silvery grass and shrub willow surrounded a rushing creek. Indentations in granite rocks held rainwater that reflected the moon’s glow and shimmered when Sage stumbled through them to the banks of the stream. The place would have been magical if not for the debilitating dread that raced through her.
“NO!” She cried in a choked voice and pointed at the night sky with her good arm. “You can’t take him.”
“He’s dying.” The Wind whispered from the quivering pines that encircled the glade.
“No, he can’t die,” she shouted, but remembering that Tim lay only several yards away, forced herself to continue in a strangled whisper. “Not him too.”
“He’s at peace,” the Wind breathed. “He has no fear of death.”
She felt rage building up inside her. “What about the other night? You said that we had to defeat this thing together. Well, it’s not defeated yet. I can’t do this alone. I won’t.”
The Wind was silent.
“Did you hear me? I WON’T fight this thing without Tim. I’ll just leave.”
“Won’t?” The Wind tossed her damp hair around on her shoulders. “Do you think you can bargain when the destiny of this valley lies in your hands?”
“Why don’t you take care of this valley?” Sage shouted into the night, her thin grasp on control snapping. “Why don’t you destroy that thing if it bothers you so much? It kills everything. Over and over again, it kills!”
The Wind let out a sad sigh. “Over and over again your kind invites its presence back here.” The voice died and the pines grew still.
Sage tripped over a rock and clung to a tree with trembling arms. “Fine! Maybe some of them. But Tim sure as hell didn’t. He’s … he’s so good. Please. Please don’t let him die.” Her voice broke in a ragged gasp.
Silence.
“Please. I’ll do anything,” she choked.
Silence and then. “Anything?” The Wind whispered gently. “Even though it may—”
“Anything!” she shouted. “I promise … just please heal him.”
Silence again. Sage resisted the urge to scream.
Finally the Wind spoke again. “You have been heard. Go pour out the depths of your suffering, and he will be healed. It will diminish you, your abilities, but it is the only way.”
“What does that mean?!” Sage staggered around the clearing. “What do I have to do?”
“Go to him,” the voice rushed past her through the clearing. “Before it’s too late.”
Sage stumbled back into the cave and was immediately greeted by the shallow rattle of Tim’s breath. She gently placed her hands on his neck, knowing that wound was the most deadly. “Tim?” She whispered. No response.
She replayed the Wind’s words: Pour out the depths of your suffering, and he will be healed.
What does that mean? Her mind screamed again as the ominous rattles from Tim intensified. She had to do something. Frenzied words rushed from of her mouth, muddled and of their own volition.
“So when I was little I had this great family.” The long forgotten memories stabbed at her heart, but desperation made her continue. “My dad was a teacher in Gallup. My mom, she was amazing. Every day she met my brother and me at the bus after school. And she loved surprising us. Little things like fresh, hot sopapillas or a set of new pencils for us to do our homework.”
Sage shuddered and felt tears begin to trickle down her cheeks. Tim choked, and she leaned closer to him trying to catch a glimpse of his face despite the darkness of th
e cave.
“My little brother, he was funny. A pest, you know? He loved to tease me, annoy me, but he had the sweetest heart. Whenever the girls at school were mean to me, he’d make funny little drawings and sneak them under my door to try and cheer me up. He’d give me his dessert at dinner and refuse to take it back until I promised I was happy again.” A sob caught in her throat, and she fell silent, unable to speak, but then another death rattle in Tim’s throat propelled her to talking again.
“After they were gone, I thought I’d died inside. But I was wrong.” Her voice broke, and the tears came faster now, streaming down her face and dripping all over Tim. “Even though I was hurting, deep down inside, I was still me. But that only lasted until the court sent me to live with Uncle Brian. Then I discovered that there are adults that care nothing for the innocence of a child. That it brings them joy to destroy it. Gus and I—”
“Gus was alive back then?” Tim’s ragged voice broke into her story.
“Tim!” Sage gasped and cupped his face with her hands. “Can you breathe?”
Tim let out a ragged cough. “It’s a little hard. But yes, I think so.”
Sage brushed Tim’s damp, sticky hair off his forehead. “I thought you were dying. You were dying.”
“I think I might have been,” Tim said his voice stronger. He coughed, and this time it sounded normal. “My breath kept getting stuck in my throat. I felt like I was suffocating.”
Sage ran trembling fingers along his cheek, throat, and the tattered remains of his shirt. “I think you’ve stopped bleeding.”
Tim caught her hand in his. She was surprised by the strength of his grip. “You saved me.” He sat up, his voice filled with wonder. “The drops on my face, they burned like fire. And your voice. I think it brought me back.”
Sage’s nerves zinged with electric energy. Had she saved him? Was he truly healed? “Let me get you some water.”
Tim nodded. “Thanks. My mouth, it tastes like metal.”