Wilson was standing outside the building. Had he been waiting for her? Ella started to cross the parking lot to meet him. Two pickups, each carrying five or more Navajo teens crowded in the cab and back end, pulled up at the chapter house's entrance. Something about the teenagers' expressions warned her of trouble.
Wilson quickly came to stand beside her. "They don't belong here," he mumbled.
"I figured that," she said, as they jumped out of the trucks and crowded through the door. She raced into the building, Wilson at her side.
"This meeting is over. You won't interfere with our religious ceremonies ever again," one of the boys shouted.
Ella brushed past two youths at the entrance, appraising the situation at a glance. The boys, who ranged in age from sixteen to their early twenties, were circling the seated adults like vultures. Suddenly a tall, muscular-looking Navajo boy lunged at Wilson. Ella tripped the youth; he didn't fall, but turned on her with a roundhouse punch. She grabbed his wrist, sharply twisted the boy's arm behind his back, then kicked him away. In an instant another one was on her, grabbing the back of her hair. Ella leaned into the attack, then stomped down hard on his instep and kicked back, spinning. By then, the room had erupted in a free-for-all.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Wilson flatten one of the boys with a punch, turn and pull another away from one of the older men, then pitch the boy through the open door. The practical efficiency of the move, and the strength it had taken, surprised her. She wondered where he'd learned to fight like that.
Diverted, she almost didn't see the folding chair one of the boys hurled at her. She ducked at the last minute and the chair caught another attacker in the back. As the teenager advanced toward her, she kicked out hard, catching his knee full force. The boy yowled in pain, falling to the floor. Before Ella caught her balance, another young man lunged at her, but Rose stepped in and smashed him in the face with her purse. She continued hitting him, hard, and he tried to protect his head with his hands. In a flash, Rose was joined by three other angry women.
Ella moved toward an elderly man in a wheelchair. He too seemed to be holding his own. He'd used his chair to trap one of the young men who'd been knocked down
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against the wall. Every time the boy moved to get up, the man would ram him with one of the metal footrests.
"Someone call the police/' Ella yelled.
Her words were lost in the angry shouts and screams that filled the room. She tried to move toward her mother, but one look at Rose jolted worry right out of her. She and the three other women were ganging up on whichever young troublemaker was closest.
Wilson was blindsided with a solid punch to his jaw. As he staggered back, two more youths were on him. Ella deflected an arm that snaked toward her and kicked one of Wilson's opponents in the crotch from behind. He went up into the air about a foot, then crumpled.
Grabbing a broom someone had left propped against the wall, Ella jammed the handle into the stomach of the last boy on his feet, then brought it crashing down on the back of his neck. As the boy struck the floor, Ella heard sirens above the din in the room.
Wilson scrambled to his feet and, with Ella and several other adults, blocked the door. Those teens still able to move retreated to the opposite side of the room.
A minute later, eight tribal police officers came rushing in, batons ready. The defeated attackers offered only token resistance.
Recognizing Peterson in the group of newcomers, Ella sighed with relief. He would be professional about taking statements, and they wouldn't be detained any longer than necessary. Wilson helped the officers, relinquishing custody of two young boys he'd forced to the floor.
As the troublemakers were led from the room, Peterson came over to Ella. "What the hell happened here tonight? How did all this get started?"
Rose Destea approached before Ella could speak. "I may
be an old lady to them, but I can still take care of myself/' she said proudly.
Ella chuckled. "Yeah, I saw you. You sure took care of those punks, Mom."
"All that trouble, and from them!" she muttered angrily.
"Who, Rose?" Peterson asked. "Do you know what this was about?"
"Hotheads, that's all. They thought they could teach those who don't follow the old ways a lesson. All they've done is hurt the cause of those of us who still value the old! People of both views were here tonight."
"You mean these boys were traditionalists?" Ella's eyebrows furrowed skeptically.
"That's what one of them told me," Rose nodded.
"But then why would they do this tonight, when there's an Enemy Dance scheduled? You'd expect them to be there, getting ready," Ella added.
"The only answer I can think of is that they were incited by someone," Rose replied. "Some were saying they were here because this meeting would force many of the Dineh to miss the beginning of the ceremonial. But that's not true."
Peterson said, "I'm afraid it is. There was an error in the flyer that went out advertising the meeting here at the chapter house. It reported that the ceremony wouldn't begin until moonrise. Actually, it was set for nightfall."
"So it would have been impossible for anyone here to get to the ceremonial on time," Ella said softly. "Who wrote the text for the flyer?"
"I haven't been able to find that out yet." Peterson glanced at Rose, the unspoken question in his mind.
"I don't know who's responsible," Rose answered. "It seems like a very stupid thing to do. The people conducting the ceremonial were sure to discover the mix-up."
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"That's exactly what happened, and it got some of them very angry/' Peterson said.
The young people who'd started the trouble were driven to the station, but those arrested also included some who'd fought off the assault but refused to cooperate with the police. Wilson stood beside Ella as the last squad car drove away. "This is really going to create trouble. Everyone will blame someone else, until they're all at each other's throats again. And it will interfere with the Enemy Way too."
"Nothing can be done about it now. But you can bet that whoever planned this little confrontation knew exactly what they were doing." Ella surveyed the meeting room. People were picking up chairs and trying to straighten things up.
"We have to find out just who that was," Ella said. "I'll ask around. I have a feeling the police didn't get much cooperation from this crowd, not when some of their own were arrested." One group of ladies was still arguing about the police response.
"Wilson, shouldn't you be leaving for the ceremonial now?" she asked, her gaze on her mother, who was trying to calm an old man and his wife.
"Before I go anywhere, I'm going to check my answering machine. Clifford has my home number, and the code you suggested we use in case of an emergency," Wilson said.
She'd been with her brother less than two hours ago, but in view of the circumstances, it couldn't hurt. "Let's do that now. There's a pay phone at the gas station across the street."
They walked outside, dodging the cars of a few curious onlookers who were cruising by because of the recent ex-
citement. Several people stood around the gas pumps, drinking sodas and gossiping excitedly about the near riot.
Wilson dialed, covering one ear with his hand as he struggled to hear above the din of voices nearby. "He's in trouble/' he said flatly after a moment. "We've got to leave right now."
Ella didn't bother to ask him to explain. There'd be time for that later. Instead, she ran with him back to the chapter house parking lot. Rose had just come outside, looking for them.
"I have to go," Ella said to her mother.
Rose nodded. Sensing their urgency, she asked no questions. "Give me the keys to that rental pickup. I can see myself home. You two can use Wilson's truck."
Ella handed her mother the keys. "I'll be home as soon as I can."
"Clifford needs you more than I do right now," Rose answered, then
walked away.
Ella turned to Wilson. "How does she do that? J don't even know what's going on yet. You haven't told me."
"Your mother's side of the family is very gifted; you know that."
"What's happened with Clifford?"
"The message he left was the code for trouble, but not an emergency situation." The code they'd worked out included a number of variations.
"I hate to think of him alone out there."
"You've been more alone than he is, living on your own, offtheRez."
Ella didn't respond. As they approached the gas station, she spotted several children, playing on the concrete pads that supported the pumps. "What on earth are they doing here at this time of night?"
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"If they're here, that means an adult brought them." Wilson paused. "I don't see any horses or bicycles. A shipment may be on the way."
"We have to get Clifford away fast." She pulled to a stop behind a thicket of Russian olives. "We'll have to go on foot from here."
Wilson commented, "I never thought they'd take advantage of a ceremonial to bring in beer."
"Less traffic, less interference," Ella reasoned.
"I suppose," Wilson admitted grudgingly.
"I'll get Clifford. You stay here and be ready to drive the truck out of here the moment we get back."
"Right."
Ella circled in a wide arc across the desert toward the back of the gas station. She could see Clifford standing in the shadows near the r ear exit. His truck was nowhere to be seen. If there was danger, why had he stayed? Surely avoiding a half dozen kids wouldn't have been that difficult for him. He was the kind of man who could hide in a crowd of three. He'd done it even when they were kids.
Her brother saw her and came toward her, staying low but moving with a fleetness and agility that surprised even her. He made no sound. It was as if he had become one with the land.
"I was hoping one of you would get my message quickly," he said.
"Where's your truck?"
"Across the road, hidden in a canyon. Bouncing around in the desert loosened the fuel line, and before I knew it, all the gasoline had soaked into the ground. By the time I found it, even the sand was dry."
"Let's go." Ella led him to where Wilson waited.
Moments later, as they drove down the highway, a large
van passed them, then turned, heading for the gas station that had served as Clifford's hideout.
"I'm sorry/' Wilson said. "This is my fault. I thought you would be safe there."
"I don't blame you, so don't blame yourself," Clifford answered. "At the moment, no place is really safe for me." He hunched down in the seat as headlights approached, but the vehicle turned off the road before they passed it.
"But we do have to find a safe house," Ella said pensively. "You need a home base." She saw Wilson's eyebrows knit together as he considered their options.
Wilson looked at Clifford, then at Ella. "I have another idea, but it could get risky." He checked the rearview mirror for cars.
"Go on," Clifford encouraged.
"The tribal government has several portable buildings that eventually will become part of the new college. They're currently unoccupied."
"Where are they?" Ella asked pointedly.
Wilson exhaled softly. "Not far from the construction site. About two miles from there, actually, inside a fence."
"Perfect," Clifford stated.
"Only if you're trying to make yourself a target," Ella countered. She glared at Wilson. "We already know that's where our opponents have been most active. Leaving Clifford there is a lousy idea! He'll be vulnerable."
"No, not really," Clifford interrupted. "I will be on my guard, and my own powers will support me. But to put it on a level you're more comfortable with, let me make one point. That's the last place they'll look for me. Best of all, it'll give me a perfect chance to study the area and familiarize myself with our enemies."
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"Or get killed. This is a rotten plan. Let's think of another location."
"No/' Clifford said softly, but with such vehemence both Ella and Wilson turned to look at him. "That place is the ideal hideout. Take me there."
"How will you survive?" she challenged. "You'll be on your own, facing danger, with no backup and no way of contacting us."
Clifford shrugged.
Wilson glanced at the row of cars heading to the ceremonial. "Why don't you two keep my truck for now? Drop me off so I can attend the Enemy Way." He looked searchingly at Ella. "That is, unless you need me."
"Do you want me to pick you up later?" Ella asked.
"Come by, but let's play it by ear. If it doesn't look like the right time, I'll catch a ride from one of my cousins and get my truck at your place later."
"Okay," Ella agreed.
After dropping Wilson at the dance, Ella continued toward the construction site with her brother. Ella stared at the road, her thoughts drifting. "You know, this investigation has thrown me more than the usual number of curve-balls. Even when I'm sure of an answer, I find I'm wrong." She shrugged. "Maybe this place Wilson suggested is exactly where you should hide; I don't know anymore."
Clifford looked at his sister speculatively. "Something has happened to you," he observed. "Your confidence has been badly shaken."
"On more levels than you can imagine."
"Tell me."
Ella recounted the incident with the coyotes, and the animal that had leaped from the flames. "I was sure it was
252 X AIMEE & PAVIP THURLO
dead, but obviously I was wrong. It was an awful sight. But if I can't be sure of something as simple as my aim at that close a range ..." She lapsed into silence.
Neither spoke for several long moments. Clifford cleared his throat. "Was this near the main irrigation canal where it crosses beneath the highway?"
"Yeah," Ella answered, looking away from the road in surprise. "How did you know that?"
"A man and his son died near there in a hunting accident last year. The father accidentally shot the boy, then killed himself after the boy died."
Ella shuddered violently, and not from the cool evening air streaming through the partially lowered window. "What are you saying?"
"That area is contaminated by the chindi. It's a place of power for the skinwalkers. You shouldn't have stopped there for any reason whatsoever." Clifford glanced at Ella. "Wilson was with you. He should have prevented it."
Ella shook her head. "If anyone's at fault, I was. I was driving."
"What you lack is knowledge—not of criminals, but of our people's secrets. That's something only time can give you. Unfortunately, that's one commodity we don't have."
Ella started to argue, to protest again that her aim had been at fault, but uncertainty, mingled with fear, kept her quiet. Wilson had insisted they stop and burn the dead animal immediately, right on the spot Clifford now said he should have known to avoid. Was Wilson simply a good actor, working against them? Had he rigged the fire trick to damage her confidence and effectiveness? She hated these questions that circled her mind like a hawk in search of prey.
For distraction, Ella switched on the Navajo radio sta-
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tion. A news report of the disturbance at the chapter house was being aired.
Clifford's hand balled into a fist. "More trouble. ,,
"They made it sound worse than it was," Ella said quietly.
"You were there?" Clifford asked.
"Wilson and I both were." Ella filled Clifford in. "Mom can sure take care of herself," she added, trying to ease her brother's mind. "She's deadly with that purse of hers. There must be a brick in there."
Clifford never cracked a smile. "Do you see the tactic underlying all this? Those we are up against are well-organized people who intend to foster as much chaos as they can. These modern skinwalkers are deadlier than their ancestors."
"They definitely want power,"
Ella said flatly, without accepting or challenging her brother's insistence that their enemies were skinwalkers. "But to what ends? We've got to find out what they intend to do with it."
Ella drove off the highway into the desert. After a ten-minute ride, she finally pulled to a stop. "We'll leave the truck here," she said, "and take a roundabout path to the buildings." She glanced around. "Where are you going to hide your truck once it's repaired?"
"Just leave it where it is," Clifford answered. "It will throw anyone who's after me off my trail."
"But what if you get into trouble out here?" Ella insisted. "This isn't like the gas station. There isn't going to be a convenient phone nearby. Consider, also, how hot it will be—those things are metal, and you'll bake every afternoon. That's precisely the time when people are around, so you can't come out in plain sight."
"I'll need shelter only at night," he answered, remind-
ing her of what he saw as the real threat. "During the day, the desert itself will hide me."
"More of your illusions?" she whispered, suddenly uncomfortable.
"Survival. Like a lone soldier."
They made their way slowly and carefully toward the trailers, working hard to avoid leaving any tracks. Far off, Ella spotted a security guard with a flashlight, but he didn't notice them as they crossed the open area that led to the trailers. Clifford seemed to have an innate sense of tuning that allowed them to move at precisely the right moments.
Seconds later, they were through the fence. A window had been left open in one trailer, and they easily slipped through.
Clifford looked around. "It will do."
"Now what?" Ella asked in a whisper.
"Join Wilson at the dance, but don't just go as an investigator. Learn how things have been done in the past, and how some traditions always continue. Stop trying to avoid our ways."
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