Bad Land

by Jonathan Yanez

  Every picture he came across brought images of his sister to his mind. Every picture with a body strewn across a sacrificial altar had his sister’s face. Would he ever know the truth? Was he on some crazy chase that had nothing to do with his sister at all? Was there any way to know for sure if his sister had fallen victim to this secret society? With another wish for alcohol to dull his senses and the feelings he was being forced to deal with, he focused on the articles he had found on the internet.

  Marshall narrowed in on the constants that the articles had to offer. Almost all agreed that if sacrificial altars existed, they would have to be large and not easily moveable, if they could be moved at all. Marshall spent all morning researching the topic until he had compiled what he thought was an accurate description of the stone altar they were looking to destroy.

  The altar would have to be large enough for a body to lie on top. It would be heavy, so probably not moveable. It would be dark and bloodstained, and if Jonah’s story was correct, it would be underground somewhere in the canyon.

  Marshall’s stomach soon reminded him of his scant breakfast and he glanced at the time on his computer. It was near eleven, close enough for Marshall to justify an early lunch and a drink. Even better, he could justify an early lunch by going to check on his car.

  Samantha’s face flashed across his mind, replacing the images of his sister. He smiled. He left the Hermes without getting caught up in conversation and was soon pulling up to Samantha’s mechanic shop.

  There was no one in the office so he stepped into the garage. His car was clean like it had never been before. Marshall didn’t even recognize it anymore. The antenna was straightened and he could even see the glimmer of his leather upholstery through the rolled up window.

  “See? Big difference when you take care of your toys, right?”

  Marshall wheeled around and saw Samantha standing in the doorway. “Wow, you did such a good job and in such a short time. Thank you so much, Samantha.”

  “Sam.”

  “What?”

  “You can call me Sam. Samantha sounds too long and formal.”

  Marshall walked over to his car and lightly ran a hand down the body of his vehicle. He was torn between admiring the sheen on his car and looking at the beauty who stood behind him.

  “Wait till you look under the hood.”

  “You did more?” Marshall asked, surprised.

  “Yeah, the outside was easy. Just swapped out the antenna and had it detailed for you. I spent most of my time on the engine.”

  Sam walked over, opened the door, and popped the hood. The two met at the front of the car as Sam unlatched the hood and smiled as she looked at Marshall’s face.

  He was speechless. The engine, from pistons to alternator to carburetor, everything was immaculate. Some pieces had been cleaned, others replaced altogether. “How—how did you do this in a day?”

  “A girl has her secrets. Wait till you hear her.” Samantha walked around and took a seat in the car. She started the engine and gave it a little gas. Marshall was sure the car he heard couldn’t belong to him. Instead of the rough cough and gasp his car usually gave, as it started there was a low purr. As Sam gave the car gas, the purr transformed into a growl and then a roar.

  Marshall walked over to the driver’s seat. His head was shaking with loss for words.

  Samantha laughed. “You’re welcome. Now how about we take her for a spin?”

  Chapter 18

  Marshall tore down the empty street like a bat out of hell. Samantha sat in the seat smiling, her Aviator sunglasses hid her eyes, but Marshall knew they were wide with excitement. “You know, most girls would be terrified if I was driving this fast.”

  “Well, I guess you’re lucky that I’m not ‘most girls.’”

  “No, you’re not. And that’s why I’m going to take you to the best seafood restaurant you’ve ever been to.”

  “Best ever?”

  “Best ever,” Marshall confirmed.

  The car handled like a dream and Marshall weaved in and out of the midday traffic like a professional race car driver. The radio was playing an old rock song and Samantha grabbed the knob and twisted it up full blast. The windows were down and the wind was playing with her dark hair in a violently gorgeous way.

  Marshall had a hard time looking at the road with Samantha beside him. His dark sunglasses shielded the quick glimpses but he had a feeling she still knew he was stealing glances at her. The restaurant wasn’t far and soon the mechanic and reporter were sitting inside the brightly lit interior with menus in hand.

  “Get whatever looks good,” Marshall said. “This one’s on me.”

  Samantha smiled as she wrapped her hair in a ponytail and adjusted her black shirt. “So generous. Is this how you woo all the ladies? Fancy spur of the moment lunches?”

  “No, not all of them. Just you.”

  She leaned back in her chair, admiring the simple nautical décor and smelling the great seafood aromas wafting from the kitchen. The waiter came and took their orders, lemonade for Samantha, a beer for Marshall, and cooked crab and shrimp for both of them. The waiter smiled after taking the orders, leaving the two to get to know one another better.

  “Beer at lunch? Not judging, but it’s not even noon. Don’t you have to go back to work?

  Marshall shrugged. “It’s late enough, and I don’t have to take any sobriety tests when I get back to the office. Besides, I’ve had a really rough past few days. So,” Marshall said, changing the subject, “how is it that someone like you is single? I mean, I’m assuming you’re single, right?”

  Samantha smiled and nodded. “Yes, very single at the moment. I don’t know, I guess I intimidate most guys, not only with my profession, but in most everything else. Not to brag, but I know what I want and I won’t settle for less. I probably know more about comic books, Star Wars, and Lord of the Rings than you.”

  “Really? You think so?”

  “I’m pretty sure.”

  “Hmmm… we’ll see about that, my young apprentice.”

  “Me the apprentice? Please. You’re definitely the padawan when it comes to your car,” she said.

  “Nice name drop.”

  “Just returning the favor.”

  The two couldn’t help but laugh and Marshall knew that he’d found something special. He wasn’t quite sure what it was yet, but he knew enough to know it was something.

  “So how about you?” Samantha asked. “I’m also assuming you’re single and that’s because…”

  “I don’t really have a good reason. I mean, I guess I’ve never really tried to be in a relationship. Work has always been the motivating factor in my life.”

  “Oh, that’s right. How’s the case going? Are you still working on uncovering what happened to that young girl in the canyon?”

  The two had to pause in their conversation as plates of juicy shrimp and cooked crab were laid before them. It was perfect timing for Marshall to gather his thoughts and prepare a story. “It’s going. I haven’t found out what exactly happened to her yet, but I’m closer than I was before.”

  Samantha nodded in encouragement as she dipped a piece of crab in the restaurant’s famous lemon butter sauce. “That must be rough. I mean, I’m sure you’re used to it now, but to have to deal and be so near death all the time.”

  Marshall’s thoughts turned from death to the memory of his sister again and as he finished his first beer, he knew he had to change the subject. The last thing he wanted was to bring up the story of his dead sister and repressed emotions.

  The rest of the meal, Marshall got to know Samantha beyond what he would have thought possible in one lunch, and the more he found out, the more he admired her. She was not only a small business owner, incredibly smart, and funny, but she was gorgeous as well. Where he could imagine other guys would find her aggressive or intimidating, he rose to the challenge and playful banter and laughter would erupt from the two almost out of thin air.

  T
he check came much too quickly and Marshall was finding himself trying to justify the idea of spending more time with Samantha. But he knew he had to get back to the office. There was still so much research to be done.

  It was as the two pulled up to Samantha’s garage and they walked inside her office that Marshall remembered payment for the car. He pulled out his wallet and handed her a plastic card. “Thanks again for all the work you did on the car. How much do I owe you?”

  Samantha half reached for the card but then stopped and shook her head. “You can’t pay me in money.”

  Marshall’s mind went in ten different directions at once. He gulped, gathered himself, and played along. “Well, how can I repay you?”

  Samantha let a small smile play across her full lips. “Get your mind out of the gutter. You can repay me by taking me out on a date. This lunch doesn’t count. You have to ask me formally and plan it out.”

  “You drive a hard bargain but I think I can manage that. You already have my cell number from when I left you the car, text me yours. How does tomorrow night sound? Would you do me the great honor of being my official date? Does seven work for you?”

  “I’d love to and seven sounds great.”

  ***

  It was so crazy how things worked out. How one area of his life could not be better and yet all the others could be falling apart at the same time. On one hand he had met a great girl who was not only fun to hang out with, but she was easily model status as well. On the other hand, he was caught up in researching cult-like activity, found out his boss and co-worker were vigilantes, and now he was playing cat and mouse with something or someone he couldn’t even describe.

  His cell phone started to beep and he looked down. It was an incoming call from the Hermes. California law was that you couldn’t talk on the phone and drive at the same time without some type of hands-free device, so Marshall did his due diligence as a citizen of California. He looked around, confirming there were no police officers in sight then pressed the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

  “Marshall, it’s Ann. I’ve found something. Can you meet me at the warehouse?”

  “Sure. Now?”

  “Yeah, I think I may have been able to narrow in on the stone’s location. The side door is unlocked.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  The receiver clicked on the other line and Marshall heard the dead dial tone. He made a split second decision. If they were going to have any chance of figuring out where the stone was they would need someone who had been there before. Marshall made a U-turn at the next light and headed toward Wakan Canyon.

  ***

  “You’re back. Did you find out anything else?”

  “No, Jonah, not yet, but I need you to come with me.”

  The old man gave him a sideways look. “Go with you where?”

  “I can explain on the way, but we aren’t the only ones trying to figure out what’s happening in the canyon. You have to trust me on this one.”

  Jonah gave Marshall another wary look. “Okay, hold on just one second. Let me get my stuff.”

  Jonah disappeared into his house leaving Marshall on the porch wondering if he was making the right decision and what Ann and Diane would say about the newest member of their team.

  As promised, Jonah was back soon carrying a flimsy looking cardboard box in his hands.

  As the two loaded into the car, Marshall couldn’t help but ask, “What’s in the box?”

  “Everything. Everything I’ve managed to find out about the canyon through years of research.”

  Marshall smiled. Jonah had a box of material, Diane had a warehouse. “Now what’s all this business of us not being alone in this?”

  Marshall pumped the gas and the car roared down the road in the opposite direction of the canyon. His mind first strayed to the thought that he should tell Jonah about spending time with his granddaughter but he dismissed it just as quickly as it came to mind. There was enough going on without bringing their relationship into the conversation, if they had a relationship at all.

  “You brain dead, boy? I asked you a question.”

  “Oh yeah, sorry. Turns out the last descendent of the Whitmer family is still alive and a mutual friend of ours has also been searching for answers to her brother’s death. Her name is Ann and she thinks the cult-like activity in the canyon is responsible.”

  “Hmmmmm… Is that so. And these people can be trusted?”

  “Of course. I’ve known them for years. We all want the same thing. To find out the truth about what’s going on and to stop anyone else from being hurt.”

  “Are you sure? I mean this is some pretty heavy stuff. If we align ourselves with the wrong side it could mean trouble or worse.”

  “Yes, I mean what other side is there? We can’t join the cult.”

  Jonah seemed content. “Have you found the exact location of the stone or a way to kill them?”

  Marshall flinched at the word “kill” again but shook his head. “No, not yet, but Ann just called me before I picked you up and said she had some new information.”

  “Hot dog.” Jonah slapped his hands together, rubbing them furiously. “Looks like we got a plan on our hands.”

  Marshall had to smile at the old man’s enthusiasm. Soon the two men pulled into the warehouse driveway and walked to the side entrance. Marshall reached for the door. Sure enough, the warehouse door swung open.

  “Ann, it’s me. I brought a friend who can help us. Don’t do anything assassin-like.”

  Ann popped a head from behind a rack of large books. Her expression was anything but friendly as she moved to intercept the two. “You what? Marshall, this isn’t a club. You can’t just invite anyone you want here.”

  “I’m still so confused. Do you always dress in leather and boots when you’re not working?” Ann was once again sporting clothes that fit her secret identity—a black leather jacket that unzipped too far for modesty, black military looking boots, and dark blue tight fitting jeans.

  “Who is he?”

  “My name is Jonah. I’d shake your hand, young lady, but this box full of information on the canyon I brought to help you is hindering me.”

  Ann let out a big sigh. “Next time you decide to start recruiting members from the senior citizen center, ask first. No offense, Jonah.”

  “No, none taken.” Jonah was less interested in the conversation with Ann and more interested in the unfamiliar items that filled each aisle in the warehouse. “Is that—is that a war mace?” he asked as he took a few steps to his left and stared at a large hammer-like weapon.

  “Yes, don’t touch anything. Follow me. I have to phone Diane about our new friend.”

  Marshall and Jonah followed Ann to the rear of the warehouse, where the table and chairs were set up. Ann picked up her phone from the table and punched in numbers as she walked a few steps away to keep her conversation private.

  “Sorry about Ann. To be honest, I’m still getting used to her myself. She means well.”

  “Oh don’t worry about that.” Jonah looked like a child in a candy store, his gray eyes were huge as he sat clutching his box.

  “Okay,” Ann said, walking back to the group. “She’s on her way. I told Diane and she’s not happy about bringing someone into the inner circle without being spoken to first, but there’s nothing we can do now. And if Jonah has information that we can use, then maybe it’s not as bad as it looks.”

  “Oh, I do.”

  “You can tell us where the stone is?” Ann asked.

  “No, I just have fuzzy memories of that and the land has changed so much.”

  “Then what information do you have that could help us so much?”

  Jonah’s eyes lit with a playful fire. “I can tell you how to kill them.”

  Chapter 19

  “Diane, you have to hear this!” Ann yelled in excitement as soon as her boss entered the warehouse.

  Diane’s high-heels clicked down the cement floor le
ading to the trio. First she gave Marshall a disapproving look then played the gracious host and introduced herself to Jonah. “Hello, my name is Diane Whitmer.”

  Jonah stood from his seat, smoothing down his faded shirt and jeans. “Hello, ma’am, my name is Jonah. I’m sorry about not having taken the proper channels in entering the group, but we do have information that can help each other and we both want the same thing.”

  “Please,” she said, releasing his hand and skewering Marshall with another stare, “it’s not your fault.”

  “Diane,” Ann said again. “He knows how to kill them!”

  Marshall raised his eyebrows, as he had never heard anyone so happy when it came to killing someone else.

  “Does he now?” Diane said, taking a seat in the last empty chair. “Please, Jonah, do share.”

  Like a true performer, Jonah opened his arms, taking in their surroundings. “Well, ma’am, in no way do I have the same resources as you—but I do have this.” Jonah reached down and pulled out a worn book from his box. The book was a hundred years old if it was a day. The spine of the book was torn and the outside covers had clearly seen better years. Jonah gently placed the book on the table like it was his most valuable possession. “Do you know what this is?”

  Ann shook her head.

  “A really, really old book,” Marshall guessed.

  “It’s the second volume of the history of the founding Native Americans. The first tribe to have found the stone.”

  All eyes turned to Diane. She was staring at the book like it was made out of solid gold.

  “That’s correct, Diane,” Jonah said with an approving smile.

  “How did you know that?” Ann asked.

  “Because I’ve found the first volume.”

  The group sat silent, staring at the book that held all the answers Diane and Ann had been looking for. “You have the first book?” Jonah asked with a twinkle in his eye.