by K. F. Baugh
“We huddle in the depression, our backs against the cliff. Everyone is silent, even the babies. Then someone cries out, and we see dark figures coming through the trees. A bunch of men, their faces painted black. They have knives and axes. They start to kill us, even the little ones. And they enjoy it.”
Sage shuddered, and this time when she looked up, Naomi’s eyes were filled with compassion, not impatience. Sage took several deep breaths before continuing, “In one version, I hide the child under my body. In another, I turn and look back into the woods, then he comes out, licking his lips.”
Sage’s voice broke and tears traced down her cheeks. Tim pulled her hand into his strong grip, and Naomi moved closer to her. “Who comes out of the woods?” Naomi asked, her voice urgent.
“That creature, a yee--”
“Shh!” Naomi covered Sage’s mouth with her hand and looked wildly around the mountaintop. “Only English! It is not safe to say that other name aloud.” Her sharp words were tempered by the trembling, gentle hand that moved from Sage’s mouth to smooth her sweat-dampened hair away from her forehead.
“Sorry,” Sage gulped and took a moment to regain her composure. “As soon as I make eye contact with the thing, I’m carried away from the group and into the woods. It forces me to watch the deaths of all the women and children. Then it swallows me up, and I see faces. Terrible, waxy faces.”
“Are any of them familiar to you?”
“Shaun, Tabitha. Oh, and Old Hank from Oriel Valley.”
Naomi’s nodded. “I had wondered about him.”
“Wondered—” Tim started, but froze when Naomi slashed her hand once again.
Naomi turned back to Sage. “Continue.”
“Well, that’s all that happens. The one thing that changes is the child. Sometimes, I’m able to save her. Other times not. In the version where I save the child, I stab the thing in the foot with a knife.”
Sage fell silent and watched Naomi process her words. The stern, beautiful face before her revealed very little of what the woman thought of Sage’s story. Minutes ticked by. Sage felt Tim inch closer to her on their rock and looked up.
You okay? He mouthed. She nodded. A strange gratefulness flooded through her. Despite any residual anger he must feel at her desertion from the night before, Tim’s stubborn concern trumped those feelings. His loyalty almost rivaled Gus’s, she thought, something that both comforted and worried her.
Naomi cleared her throat and broke the taut quiet of the mountaintop. “What I am about to tell you has not been known for over a hundred years, a secret kept alive by a handful in my family. I trust that you will honor this information with the respect it deserves.”
Sage nodded, and Naomi looked toward Tim.
“I don’t break confidences lightly,” Tim said. “I promise not to share it, unless it’s necessary to bring justice for the recently deceased.”
Naomi pursed her lips. “I am disappointed, holy man. Can you really not see that this evil stretches well beyond the moment?” Naomi raised both her hands and reached as if to embrace the vast expanse of mountains and valleys that surrounded the three of them. She glanced at Tim and then lowered her arms. “But thank you for your promise. Both of you.” She bowed her head. “The thing of which you dream so often, has haunted this valley for many, many years.
“I am of the Folded Arms People Clan, born for the Red-Running-Into-Water Clan. The Bitter Water Clan are my maternal grandfather's clan, and The Tangle People are my paternal grandfather's clan. My ancestors lived near the northernmost reaches of the Diné boundaries, near the mountain you call Hesperus and we call Dibé Nitsaa.”
Naomi turned to Tim. “Perhaps you have heard of the Long Walk?
Tim shook his head. “I’m sorry, I haven’t. I’m not originally from here.”
“Unfortunately, even if you were, you would probably would not have heard of it. Those in power always try to paint over their sins so that they will be forgotten or ignored.” Naomi sighed and traced the shimmering veins of formica on the large rock where she sat. “In 1864, the United States Army went from village to village, telling all the Diné that they must leave and go to a new place the soldiers would show them. Immediately. There was no time to pack anything. Those who resisted were killed.
“My ancestor’s village was a small, poor one, so we heard news of what was happening before the soldiers got there. The leader of the clan decided those who were able should escape to the mountains in the North. My people collected only what they needed, and traveled secretly, by night, until they made their way there,” Naomi pointed over a distant ridge. “To the Oriel Valley—”
“What?” Sage interrupted, ignoring Naomi’s frown. “I thought the only tribes here were the Utes. I’ve never heard of a Navajo clan in Oriel Valley.”
“That was the point. That no one should hear. The Oriel Valley was small and deserted. The Diné who came here were few, and their needs were not great. They tried to live in secrecy and take only what they must from the land. They were not a mountain people and many died the first winter. It was hard, but at least they were undisturbed, for a time.
“The soldiers never did find them, but in their place came other hunters. Fortune hunters in search of riches buried deep in the mountains. When our leader saw them scouting the surrounding valleys, he knew it was only a matter of time before our secret was discovered, so he and the other men decided to try to find one of the Ute tribes to the South. Although the Utes were enemies with the Diné, he would take our men to ask if his small clan of survivors could join the Mountain Ute tribe. Perhaps they would have mercy.
“It was winter, so our leader thought he had time to make these arrangements before the miners came into the valley. But he did not.
“That is your memory.” Naomi looked up into the deepening dusk, her eyes haunted. “Those women and children were the few remaining Diné who had survived first a death march and then the deprivation of living as refugees in the mountains. They discovered the white men slipping into the valley and tried to protect their little ones in a hidden place. But they could not protect themselves from so cunning an enemy.”
“The miners?” Tim asked.
“Not just the miners,” Naomi continued slowly, her eyes on Sage. “How would the miners know the leader and warriors were away? How would they know, in all the valley where the women and children would take refuge? How would they know that their actions, done in secret, could be hidden from the outside world with this forgotten tribe?”
“The … thing you don’t want me to say?” Sage said.
“Yes, what happened in the valley was not planned by simple miners. With this type of destruction, it never is.” She looked at Tim. “You know this, I think, holy man?”
Tim nodded. “Yes, I do.” He took a shaky breath. “When I was in Sudan the destruction was staggering. The Civil War, the genocide, all if it. Normal people who had gotten along fine for years and years suddenly turned on each other with what seemed like premeditated vengeance. The few I talked to afterwards seemed as shocked by their actions as the victims. They didn’t understand how the genocide happened either.”
“But why do I keep dreaming about it?” Sage demanded, unable to absorb Tim’s words, her thoughts circling obsessively around Naomi’s story.
“Because the earth longs to be free of the stain of innocent blood!” Naomi’s voice rang clear through the sharp mountain air. “It poisons the land and all living in it.”
“And everything that’s happening,” Tim jumped in, “the deaths of Shaun and Tabitha, of Ron Davis. They’re all linked to this?”
Naomi nodded. “Evil does not happen in a vacuum. Once planted, it grows until it either consumes or is destroyed. You must ask, what caused these simple miners to do such a terrible thing?”
“Greed,” Sage knew the answer before Naomi finished asking the question. “I saw it in their eyes. Even the twilight couldn’t hide it. Greed was eating them alive, and the crea
ture stoked it. Promising them things that weren’t true. The silver mine here never even produced much.”
“Yes,” Naomi said. “And now that greed has grown. The Skinwalker has swallowed up so much evil that his powers are no longer balanced by the good that resides here. More lives than you realize have been lost.”
“Old Hank? And all those faces I saw in the creature’s belly?” Sage asked and Naomi nodded.
“But how do you know all this?” Tim asked. “I don’t doubt your words, but if there were no survivors—”
“It was only the women and children in the valley, not the men.” Naomi reminded him. “And if you remember, as Sage has said, sometimes she saved the child. She shielded it with her body.”
“But she wasn’t actually there,” Tim said. “I mean, right?” He looked at Sage.
Sage turned to Naomi. “Was I?”
“I do not pretend to know how all things work in the dream world,” Naomi said. “But a child was saved, found lying under a stranger no one could identify. The little girl was discovered by the men of the tribe when they returned the next morning. They took her and went to live with Uncompahgre Utes across the mountains. That woman was my grandmother.”
“Your grandmother?” Tim said. “But if your family knows about this why hasn’t anyone—”
“The time was not yet right. Now it is right.” Naomi stood and gestured to the trees and boulders that surrounded them. “The earth groans to have this evil removed.”
“But how?” Sage asked.
“You must bring all things in the Oriel Valley to the light,” Naomi said. “And then the clever webs of lies will unravel.”
“But what does that even mean?” Sage jumped up from her perch. “Your story’s fascinating, but the Skinwalker is still out there. If its powers are growing stronger, like you say, is there any way to stop it? And why me?” Sage’s voice filled with frustration. “I’m not Navajo. I’m not a Singer. I’m a nobody. We have to find a real Singer to deal with this.”
Naomi shook her head. “I don’t have that answer, but it seems your path and the Skinwalker’s have entwined. Who knows why?” She fell silent, her gaze tracing the features of Sage’s face.
“Some of the elders say there were no Skinwalkers until the Long Walk. That the evil done to us by the white soldiers was what unleashed these creatures. Perhaps it is your job to balance, to atone for a small part of that evil.” Naomi reached for Sage’s hand and leaned on her as she rose stiffly to her feet. “Don’t allow your fear to take over. If you have been given this task, there must be a way to accomplish it, even if there is great danger.”
Gus whined and shoved his head beneath Sage’s hand. She glanced down at the dog and stroked his silky ears. “But I have no—“
“Good-bye, friends,” came Naomi’s lilting voice from the nighttime shadows at the edge of the ridge. “My people, my clan, owe a debt of gratitude to you, Sage. I hope our paths cross again.”
Silence settled around Sage, Gus, and Tim once more, broken only by the gentle rustle of trees and night song of crickets.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Did that just happen?” Tim asked after several minutes had passed, his voice intrusive in the almost holy silence. “It was like something out of a dream.”
Sage forced herself from the turbulent questions that scuttled through her mind. “This whole situation feels like it’s taken on a life of its own, Tim. We’re just two small characters in something much bigger than we can understand.” A tree shuddered next to Sage, shaken by a sudden gust of wind. “We need to get going.”
“I hope Naomi gets down the mountain all right,” Tim said after they began their descent. “It’s pretty dark now.”
“It seems like she’d be able handle anything these mountains could throw at her,” Sage said and wondered again why the older woman or someone from her Diné family wasn’t the one battling the Skinwalker. Who were she and Tim to fight this monster? A couple of clueless fugitives.
With all that Naomi had revealed, Sage felt even more defenseless than before. The Skinwalker had been dealing death in this valley for longer than any of them realized. Even if practice hadn’t made perfect, the Skinwalker was adept at this game of destruction.
“This is the first time since I moved here that I don’t trust these mountains, especially after what she said, about the evil growing in power.” Sage spoke into the soft silence of the twilight, grief filling her chest.
“I was just thinking the same thing,” he said as they rounded a curve and entered a dense spruce and aspen forest. “At least we’ve got your senses though, right?”
“Right,” Sage said. But aside from her communication with the Wind, Sage knew she’d not sensed anything clearly since that night in the cave. Perhaps that gift had lessened too, along with her healing abilities, drained away with the tears that had erased Tim’s injuries.
Sage kept her eyes riveted to the dog as he led the way down the trail, watchful for the slightest twitch in Gus’s ears or body language that would alert her to danger. Maybe he was their last, best hope of protection.
“Tell me what you learned after you left this morning,” Tim said once they reached the car.
While Sage guided Elena’s Honda through old logging roads and back toward Liddy’s cabin, she told Tim about her findings at the library.
“Benson’s first name is Anders?” Tim asked.
“Yes.”
“I think I told you that Olson mentioned an Anders when he was looking for me at the church. It’s not a common name, so it stuck in my memory.”
“Mine too,” Sage said and finished by telling Tim of Elena’s conjecture about the nature of the Oriel Biological Research Station’s activities. “But I still don’t understand how they’re gathering their genetic data,” Sage added. “Can you picture the old timers like Liddy giving Oriel scientists permission to play around with her DNA?”
After several moments of silence, Tim smacked the dashboard. Sage nearly swerved off the road. “What the hell, Tim? Do you want us to crash?”
“Is it really that simple?” His voice boomed through the car. “The free dental clinics!” From her peripheral vision, Sage saw him turn to her. “The clinics my church, all the churches, and the community center help to coordinate.” Excitement drained away and he slumped back against his seat. “A free dental check-up and cleaning? Nearly everyone in the town does it. One cheek swab and they’d have a patient’s DNA.”
“Do they do the dental clinic during the Black Mills Health Fair?” Sage asked. “I’ve never been to one.”
“The Black Mills docs organize the health fair, but Oriel runs the dental clinic that accompanies it.” Tim shook his head in disbelief. “I’ve always thought it strange, given how all the scientists up at OBRS act like their own self-contained nation, way too important to mix with all us commoners. But I figured the clinic gave them a tax write off or something.”
Sage marveled at the plan’s cunning. While most of the independent citizens of Black Mills never gave any more personal information than they had to, who would turn down an offer of free dental care at a health fair?
“This is happening too fast.” Tim finally spoke. “Naomi’s story, the Sanitorium, Benson, the files from the cavern, the deaths—it’s too much. I don’t understand how it’s all linked even if they are getting their genetic information from the clinics. And then there’s the crap you pulled—”
“Me?” Sage guided the car around a tight corner.
“Yeah, you. Ditching me,” Tim said, his voice suddenly sharp. “Ever since I found you at the mine, this situation has been more like a nightmare than reality. I feel like I’m barely hanging onto my sanity, but then I think, ‘At least Sage is here. She’s real.’ Then suddenly you’re gone. Did you think I could do this alone? Or that you would? I’m not some expendable side kick you get to toss off when you don’t need me anymore.”
“That’s not why I left. I don’t think
of you that way.”
“Here’s the thing, Sage, unfortunately I can’t read your mind, and it’s your actions that are going to get us killed. The Wind told us we had to stay together or die. How can you ignore that?”
Sage kept her eyes on the road and shrugged.
“Listen, if I’ve done something that makes this partner thing unbearable, I’m sorry. But for now, I’d rather not die. Naomi said the creature is getting stronger. Neither of us can do this alone, so don’t ditch me again.” He paused. “I thought we had become something like friends at the very least. The thing is Sage—”
“You almost died,” Sage blurted out. “Do you think I could ignore that? Do you have any idea what it’s like to keep living when everyone you love dies? If something happened to you too … ” Unable to finish the thought, Sage flinched as fir branches brushed the top of the car.
She glanced sideways at Tim. Moonlight dimly illuminated his face, and although the dark of night surrounded them, Sage could read understanding in his gaze. Quickly, she looked back at the narrow road before her. Tim’s ragged sigh broke the silence, then she felt his knuckles gently brush her cheek. Sage leaned into his touch and couldn’t help the tears that trickled down into his hands.
“Sage,” Tim said, his voice little more than a whisper. “Don’t you know—“
A deafening concussion crashed above them. The car lurched to the left, and Sage jerked hard at the steering wheel, barely missing a tree. A piercing howl rang out, followed by a savage hammering on the Honda’s thin roof.
“Hold on,” Sage yelled above Gus’s snarling barks and shoved the accelerator to the floor. The car jerked wildly through several twists of the mountain road. A thud sounded near the trunk, and for a second, Sage thought they’d escaped. Then a roar of rage was joined by a loud crack. Pieces of plastic rained down from the roof and then it bowed down, nearly to Sage’s head. She raced crazily down the track, just missing rocks and trees. Would the old car be able to withstand this treacherous ride? Sage’s fears were interrupted by Tim’s groan of pain.