The Graves of Plague Canyon (The Downwinders Book 3)

by Michael Richan

  They drove down into the valley, Winn looking for an access road they could take on the right. One appeared after several miles, and he turned off, running over a cattle guard and into large sagebrush. It wasn’t long before they came to a barbed wire fence blocking the path, with metal signs attached, warning of private property.

  “Well, that’s it for the Jeep,” Winn said, pulling off the dirt road a little, and turning off the vehicle. “We walk from here. Any idea how far?”

  “I’m guessing two miles,” Deem replied, taking a final look at the map before folding it up and jumping out of the jeep. She went to the back seat and retrieved her backpack, putting the map inside. “Come on, let’s go.”

  ▪ ▪ ▪

  As they reached the mouth of the canyon, Deem stopped to take in the view. The hike had been easy, and she was glad they’d started early in the morning, before it got too hot. A small streambed stretched out of the canyon, with green trees and plants surrounding it, and things becoming progressively drier the farther you went from it. The steep rock walls of the canyon were impressive even from the mouth. Deem knew they’d become even more steep and narrow the farther they went into the canyon.

  “The map shows it going in at least a mile,” Deem said.

  Winn was already scanning the sides of the canyon with a small set of binoculars. “I can’t see anything from here. No cliff dwellings, nothing like that.”

  “Look at this,” Deem said, noticing a hand-made wooden sign someone had staked into the ground twenty feet ahead of them. They walked up to the sign and Winn read it.

  “Private Property. Dangerous Canyon. Stay…” he read, stopping where the bottom board of the sign had been removed.

  “…Out,” Deem finished. “I assume.”

  “Looks old,” Winn said, observing the lettering on the board, which had been burned into the wood by hand. “Must have been made many years ago.”

  Deem noticed a small circle in the upper right corner of the sign. She stepped closer, and saw that there was a small arrow running though the circle, pointing to the left. It had been etched into the sign the same way the letters of the warning had been burned into it.

  “What a strange symbol,” Deem said. “Who ever made the sign deliberately put it there.”

  “We’ve still got a ways to go to get in there and back out,” Winn said. “Come on, let’s start.”

  Deem was fixated on the sign, and barely noticed the sound of someone approaching behind them.

  “Hold it right there, you two!” came a low voice.

  “Shit,” Winn said, turning around to face the sound.

  “This is private property,” the voice behind her said. “Turn around and face me.”

  “Turn around, Deem!” Winn whispered. “He’s got a rifle!”

  Deem finally turned, and saw a young man sitting on a horse about thirty feet away. He looked like he was in his early twenties. He had a rifle in his hands, but wasn’t aiming it at them.

  “Hi,” Deem said as she turned. She looked up at the man, then smiled. “Warren?”

  “Deem?” the man replied.

  “You two know each other?” Winn asked.

  “What are you doing out here, Deem?” Warren asked, riding a little closer.

  “My friend and I were just hiking,” Deem replied. “We saw this canyon on a map and thought we’d check it out.”

  “You must have seen the private property signs,” Warren said.

  “You know that would never stop me!” Deem replied, smiling.

  “That’s true,” Warren said. “It wouldn’t.” He smiled back.

  “What are you doing out here, Warren?” Deem asked.

  “I work for Hinton,” he answered. “He owns this land. Things have become a little heated with the feds, so he’s put a bunch of us out here to keep an eye on things. You don’t want to go up into that canyon, Deem; trust me. I can’t let you go up there, anyway. The old timers on Hinton’s crew warn all the newbies to stay out of there when patrolling. They say it’s named Plague Canyon for a reason.”

  “Convenient name,” Winn said.

  “Who’s this?” Warren asked, nodding at Winn.

  “Warren, this is my friend, Winthrop James,” Deem said. “Winn, this is Warren Stucki. We went to high school together.”

  “Hi,” Warren said, grabbing the brim of his hat briefly.

  “Nice to meet you,” Winn said.

  “So we just happened to catch you on patrol?” Deem asked.

  “Nah, I saw your dust trail when you left the road, and followed you in,” Warren said.

  “Ah,” Winn said. “Dust trail.”

  “I can’t let you go into the canyon,” Warren said. “Like I said, it’s private property, so you’ll have to clear off.”

  “Aw, come on Warren,” Deem said. “Just a little hike? No one will ever know.”

  “They already know,” Warren said. “I called it in when I first saw you. Hinton logs everything that happens. He’s the most paranoid man I’ve ever met. I have to tell them I forced you back to your car and onto the road. Sorry.”

  “Well, you could tell them that, but let us explore for a while,” Deem suggested.

  “Not worth the risk,” Warren said. “If they found out you hadn’t left, I’d lose my job. Besides, like I told you, you don’t want to go up there. It’s dangerous.”

  “Alright, we’ll leave,” Winn offered, and began the trek back to the Jeep. Deem followed him, and Warren followed them both, hanging back several feet.

  “You still in Mesquite, Deem?” Warren asked from behind them.

  “Yeah,” Deem replied. “My dad died a while back.”

  “I remember,” Warren said. “I came to the funeral. Was sorry about it.”

  “Oh, I don’t remember seeing you there,” Deem replied.

  “You weren’t yourself anyway,” Warren said. “And there were hundreds of people there. I can’t imagine you’d remember everyone.”

  “Thanks for coming, though,” Deem said.

  “Oh, sure,” Warren said. “Your dad was an important man to a lot of people. He set me apart for my mission, you know.”

  “Where did you go again, I forget?” Deem asked, trying to keep up the small talk, hopeful Warren might share more about the canyon.

  “Upstate New York,” Warren replied. “Land of the restoration.”

  They chatted more, catching up on events in each other’s lives since high school. Winn kept out of the conversation. When they finally reached the Jeep, Warren asked Deem if he could speak to her privately.

  “Sure,” Deem said, glancing at Winn, who got into the Jeep. “I’ll be right there.”

  “Take your time,” Winn replied.

  Warren got off his horse and stepped several yards from the Jeep. Deem joined him. Warren kept his back to Winn.

  “Sorry I had to kick you out,” Warren said to her.

  She looked at him, and now that she was close to him, she remembered how disarming his blue eyes had always been in high school. “You’re just doing your job,” she said.

  “Sorry for asking, but is he… ” Warren started, nodding his head toward the car, “…are you two together?”

  “Winn?” Deem replied. “Oh, no, we’re just friends.”

  “Oh, good,” Warren said, and Deem saw his face start to turn a little red. “’Cause seeing you again reminded me of how much I admired you in school.”

  “Really?” Deem asked, starting to feel uncomfortable. She sensed more was about to come from Warren, and she always felt uncomfortable when she watched boys try to ask her out. She had a reputation for being a hard date to get, and she knew it intimidated most males.

  “Yeah, I always wanted to ask you out in high school, but I never worked up the nerve.”

  “Well, that’s too bad,” Deem said.

  “If you’re not seeing anyone now,” Warren said, turning even more red, “I’d love to take you out sometime.”

  Dee
m felt a rush of heat, the same response she always had when she felt flattered. It mixed with her uncomfortableness, making her feel slightly nauseous. She remembered liking Warren when they were younger. He seemed like a nice guy back then; athletic, but not an asshole, kind and considerate to people at an age when so many weren’t. A decent scholar, too, if I remember correctly, she thought. And he isn’t at all hard on the eyes.

  “OK,” she replied, hoping that down the road she might be able to convince him to let them back onto the land. “Sure.”

  They exchanged phone numbers, and Deem thanked him. Then she went to the Jeep, and Winn started it up.

  “What was that all about?” he asked, looking into the rear view mirror as he backed onto the road and turned around.

  “He asked me out,” Deem said.

  “Really?” Winn replied, surprised. “Were you and he a thing in school?”

  “No,” Deem answered. “But I always liked him. He said he ‘admired’ me.”

  “Oh, he wants you!” Winn said. “Did you say yes?”

  “I did. We traded phone numbers.”

  “Maybe you can manipulate him into letting us back in there.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “Handsome guy,” Winn said. “Really butch on that horse, holding the rifle. Nice eyes, too. I’d do him.”

  Deem’s left arm flew through the cab, landing squarely on Winn’s chest, slapping him. “Shut up!” she said. “He’s a nice guy.”

  “Nothing wrong with nice guys,” Winn replied defensively.

  She hit him again. “Shut up!”

  “Stop hitting me!” Winn yelled. “It hurts!”

  “Not everything is a sexual conquest,” Deem said.

  “Not everything,” Winn replied smiling, “but he would be.”

  “He didn’t ask you out,” Deem replied. “So lay off. Respect boundaries.”

  “You’re interested in him?” Winn asked. “Beyond getting back into the canyon?”

  “I’m not saying that,” Deem replied. “Just don’t complicate things, alright? You’ve got plenty of skanks to keep you busy.”

  “Well,” Winn said, “I guess that means I just lay back and wait until you work some magic on him, huh? Either that or we try again. I could park farther back, not leave the road. We’d have to hike more. Or we could try in the middle of the night.”

  “There’s nowhere on that road your Jeep wouldn’t be noticed,” Deem said. “Day or night.”

  “That’s true,” Winn replied. “Maybe if we came at it from the south?”

  “Let me study the maps,” Deem said. “Coming in from the southwest might be an option. Depends on how far out Hinton’s land goes. I need to get that pinned down on the map.”

  “Alright,” Winn replied. “What now, then? Back to Carma’s?”

  “I guess so,” Deem answered. “We’ll see if she has any ideas. And I need to get the scanning done.”

  “I know going through Claude’s documents is important to you, but it seems like treading water at the moment. We should explore more ways into the canyon.”

  “Well, I don’t know what else to do,” Deem replied. “At least until Warren calls.”

  “He gave you his number?” Winn asked.

  “Yes,” Deem replied.

  “Well, you call him then,” Winn said. “Get the ball rolling.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t do that,” Deem said. “Waaaay too forward.”

  “Deem Hinton too forward?” Winn asked. “Did you just hear yourself?”

  Deem paused and thought. Winn was right — nothing much stopped her from getting what she wanted. She’d always been asked out enough that she never felt compelled to do the asking herself. But in this case, she had a good reason to keep things moving along.

  “You’re right,” Deem replied. “I’ll call him.”

  Chapter Five

  Deem sat in front of her laptop later that evening, the bright light of it illuminating her face. She’d been at it for a while, as the sun had set, and she hadn’t bothered to turn on a light in the room. She kept placing a document on the glass, scanning, turning it over, scanning, and replacing it with another document. She was becoming numb.

  She jumped a good inch when her phone rang.

  “Hello?” she said, the phone at her ear. She pulled a paper off the glass with one hand and put another on.

  “Deem?” came the voice at the other end. “It’s Warren.”

  She felt a small rush, something in her chest that made her think that her heart was beating a little faster. Hmm, she thought. I’ll analyze that after the call.

  “Hi, Warren,” she said with her most neutral voice.

  “Hey, I know we just talked this morning, but I was wondering if you were free for lunch sometime. I’m usually off work at one.”

  “Uh, sure, let me check my calendar,” Deem said, grabbing the paper she was holding on the scanner and rustling it to make it sound as if she was checking a day planner. “Umm… I can do lunch tomorrow. The rest of the week is booked.”

  “Tomorrow it is,” Warren said. “Are you still living in Mesquite?”

  “Yes,” Deem replied. “How about you?”

  “My parents are still out there, but since I took the job with Willie, I’ve been living in Hurricane. Makes it a lot easier to get to and from work.”

  “I’ll bet,” Deem replied. “What did you have in mind for lunch?”

  “Do you know the Bear Paw? In St. George?”

  “Sure I do. I love it.”

  “Well, I was thinking of there,” Warren said. “I could pick you up around two, and we’d be there by three. If that’s not too late of a lunch.”

  “No, it’s not too late,” she replied. “But listen, I spend a lot of time in St. George these days. You don’t have to drive all the way out to Mesquite. I could meet you there, save you the trip.”

  “Oh,” Warren said, surprised. “Well, sure, if you’re OK with that.”

  “Yup, I’m sure,” she said, knowing it would eat into his macho expectations a little to not pick her up.

  “OK,” Warren replied. “Two o’clock then? At the Bear Paw?”

  “See you then!” Deem said, and hung up, feeling a slight sense of elation. She hadn’t been on a date in several months; not because she didn’t want to, or because she wasn’t asked, but because she’d been so busy dealing with the skinrunner and her father’s journals. And even though she had ulterior motives in meeting with Warren, there was a part of her that was happy to have the social engagement set up, to have a date hanging on the calendar. It made her feel normal.

  This is the last scan of the night, she thought, her eyes feeling tired. Carma had told her she could stay as long as she wanted while she finished the scanning, and she’d spent several nights there already, but she knew she wouldn’t be driving back out to her mother’s house in Mesquite tonight. It was an hour there and back, and with the date with Warren now scheduled for tomorrow, it didn’t make sense. Her mother wasn’t at home anyway — she was in Arizona, visiting her sister. Why drive all the way out there to an empty house? she thought.

  She checked the clock on her laptop as the last scan finished — 9:30. She was done for the night. The image slowly appeared on the screen and she waited for it to complete and to save. She grabbed the laptop’s lid and was about to close it when her tired eyes caught a picture on the screen. She paused.

  It’s the circle, she thought. The circle with the arrow.

  She grabbed the paper from the glass and tried to read it, but the room was too dark. She rose from the chair and turned on the overhead light.

  That’s it! she thought. The same mark! A round circle with an arrow through it!

  She scanned the rest of the page, reading Claude’s hand-written notes surrounding the drawn image. Then she sat the paper back on the scanner and picked up her phone to call Winn. It went to voice mail.

  “Call me,” Deem said. “I’ve just disco
vered something interesting.”

  She wandered into the hallway and found herself drifting toward the back room that overlooked the yard, her favorite room in the house. Carma was there, curled up on couch, reading a book. She glanced up as Deem walked into the room.

  “You poor dear, what’s wrong with your eyes?” Carma asked.

  “I’ve been staring at that screen for too long,” Deem replied.

  “Well, you must stop immediately. Come sit for a while and relax. Would you like something to drink? A diet Coke, maybe?”

  “I think I’ll be turning in soon, so I should probably lay off the caffeine.”

  “My dear,” Carma said, “there’s so much caffeine in your body, I doubt it would matter. You’ve built up a tolerance. How about a cordial instead?”

  “What’s a cordial?”

  “It’s what normal people — and by normal I mean non-Mormon — drink in the evening after dinner but before bed. Something you sip while you have a leisurely chat with friends.”

  “Sounds perfect,” Deem said. “Is it alcoholic?”

  “It most certainly is!” Carma said, setting her book down and rising from the couch. She walked into the next room and soon returned with two small glasses, a milky-white inch of liquid in the bottom of both. She handed one to Deem and then resumed her spot on the couch.

  “Is this like when people drink brandy in the evening?” Deem asked. “Like on TV?”

  “Yes, but we’re not leaping to brandy just yet,” Carma replied. “Take a small sip and tell me what you think.”

  Deem brought the glass to her lips, and she could smell the alcohol. She took a sip, and then lowered the glass.

  “Oh!” she said. “That’s really good.”

  “It’s Irish cream, dear,” Carma replied, sipping her own. “A perfect next drink as we continue your debauchery!”

  “I just ran across something interesting, in my scanning,” Deem said. “It was a symbol of a circle with an arrow through it. The arrow is pointing left. Ever heard of such a thing?”