Innocent Blood

by Linda S. Prather

  “Don’t let them in.”

  Jules glanced behind him. “Let who in?”

  “Ishkitini and the owls. She brought them.”

  The old man huddled in the corner bore no resemblance to the man Jules remembered. Jules had come here in anger, wanting to kill him, but now he felt only pity. “There’s no one outside, Grandfather.” Jules walked to the window and opened the drapes. “And there are no owls outside, either.”

  Jules went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. He rummaged until he found a package of ham. The bread on the counter was beginning to mold, and he cut off the molded portions and made a sandwich. His grandfather hadn’t moved, but the small puddle spreading across the wooden floor was testimony of his fear. Jules sat on the sofa and bit into the sandwich. “You said she brought them, Grandfather. Who are you talking about?”

  “Rose. Rose brought the owls.”

  “Because you killed her?”

  The whimpers came again, and the old man pushed himself farther into the corner. “She won’t let me sleep. Make her go away.”

  Jules finished his sandwich and washed it down with the bottle of water. He wasn’t sure how long Grandfather had been here, but sleep deprivation and fear had driven him insane. He deserved it. But unless Jules helped his grandfather, he’d never know where his parents were buried. “I’ll make her go away, Grandfather, but you have to help me.” He rose and closed and barricaded the broken door. Then he lit the kerosene lamp sitting on the table next to the window. Darkness had descended quickly, and the lamp cast shadows around the room. The cabin was small, containing nothing but a kitchen and living room combination and one bedroom with a half bath. Jules riffled through the chest for clean clothes, but the drawers were empty. Apparently Grandfather hadn’t planned on staying long.

  Jules returned to the living room and stood a few feet away from the huddled figure. It was hard to believe this was the man who had haunted his dreams and terrified him for the last sixteen years. “There’s only one way to make her go away, Grandfather. Since she’s been buried so long, we’ll have to call the bone pickers and give her a proper funeral rite. Once we’ve done that, she’ll leave.”

  Grandfather started to sing a prayer chant, his hands waving through the air and smacking at unseen demons.

  Cruelty wasn’t normally a part of his nature, but Jules needed to get his grandfather moving before his mind totally slipped away. “Prayer can’t help you now, Grandfather. Unless you get up and show me where you buried them, I’ll open that door and let Ishkitini and the owls have you.” To emphasize his point, Jules picked up the lantern and walked toward the door.

  The old man scurried across the wooden floor on hands and knees, gripping Jules around the legs. “Please, help me.”

  “Show me where you buried my mother and father, and I promise, I’ll take you home.” Jules reached down and helped him to his feet. “As long as I am with you, Mother will protect us both.”

  Gripping Jules’s arm tightly, the old man nodded. “Yes, Rose will protect you.”

  Jules removed the barricade from the door. “Can we walk from here?”

  His eyes darting left and right as the door opened, the old man nodded. “It isn’t far.” He clung to Jules as he made his way down the steps and pointed at a hill behind the cabin. “There’s a gully just over the hill. Come, I’ll show you.”

  A myriad of emotions washed over Jules as he climbed the hill. He’d grieved his parents’ deaths, but being this close and knowing the truth created a gnawing pain inside his gut. His grandfather became excited as they reached the top of the hill, and his fingers dug into Jules’s arm. “See, I made them a mound.”

  Jules stared down at the mound of dirt amid the garbage the old man had tossed there over the years. If Ishkitini did exist, then his grandfather deserved to be taken. Jules shook off the hand and started down the hill, shutting out the old man’s cries for help.

  36

  Loki stopped to catch her breath. Just guessing, she figured she’d covered about five miles with a couple more to go. She could hear the gunfire in the distance. The men that Manjael talked about must have had the others trapped inside the cave. The thought was terrifying, as ricocheting bullets were even more dangerous than those fired directly at someone.

  Slowing her pace, she took off again, sticking close to the trees and creek as much as possible without actually entering any thick forest. Armed with only a knife, she’d be easy prey for any pigs that wanted to attack. Her best advantage was to get as close as she could and wait for daylight.

  Loki continued her walk-then-jog pattern until she reached the point in the creek where she and Dadron had first seen the cave. Rifle fire continued, but the answering fire from the direction of the cave had lessened. What if they run out of ammo? The thought hadn’t occurred to her earlier. She needed to create some kind of diversion and draw one of the men away from the cave.

  Several large rocks caught her eye, and she grinned. Growing up poor had its advantages. They couldn’t afford drums or flutes and had to make their own musical instruments. Loki quickly lined up a series of rocks in different sizes and chose two small flat ones. The night was quiet, and if all went well, the sound would carry. Kneeling, she started out slow. Picking up the tempo, she began to sing “Amazing Grace” in Choctaw. It was one of the few songs her mother had taught her before her death. Raising Dadron and Jules had taught Loki to multitask, and she listened to the sounds around her between the beat of the rocks and the song. Only one gun was firing at the cave, which meant two were on their way to her location. After choosing several good-size rocks, she quickly crossed the creek and slipped behind a large tree. Other than saving Dadron and the others, she hadn’t given a lot of thought to what she was going to do if her plan worked. But then she’d expected only one man to come after her.

  Their scent reached her. Peering around the tree, she noted the shadow movement as the men approached. Loki held her breath as the first man crossed the creek. The second was hanging back, waiting for his friend to flush her out. Gripping the knife in her right hand and a large rock in the left, she waited. She counted the steps as water dripped from his boots. He was almost upon her when the sound of a Choctaw war cry pierced the night and the whoosh of an arrow was followed by a loud thud. The stench of gunfire filled her nostrils as she answered the cry and attacked.

  The man turned toward her. Loki slid the knife between his ribs and slammed the rock into his right temple. He staggered. She hit him again, jerking the rifle from his hands. Adrenaline was pumping through her as she turned to find the second man. He was several feet away, two arrows planted firmly in his chest.

  Nat Blackwell stumbled toward her, hanging onto the trees to keep himself upright. “Oh no.” Loki rushed toward him and helped him sit. Holding his upper body in her lap, she pressed his head against her chest. His breathing was ragged, each drawn-in breath a strain on his already overloaded system. “You saved my life, but you shouldn’t have come here.”

  Nat raised a trembling hand and touched her cheek, wiping away a tear. His words were barely a whisper, and Loki lowered her head to catch them.

  “I die a warrior, as my people before me have died, not a disease-riddled old man. Do not cry, for I die a happy man.”

  Loki rocked back and forth, her arms tightly wrapped around him as the life drained from his body, her sobs the only sound in the silence of the night.

  Jake glared at Dr. Coomer across the table. “What did you do to me?”

  “Don’t you glare at me, young man. You were barely able to walk when you got back and needed to sleep. I just helped you along a little bit.”

  “How long have I been out?” Jake sighed and ran his left hand over the stubble on his face. “I have to get back to the reservation and find Jules before he does something crazy.” He glanced to where Grace was calmly pouring a cup of coffee. “Have we heard anything?”

  Grace placed the cup in front
of him. “The spirits are not so agitated, Jake. Jules will be fine.”

  “I still need to go back. Unless he ran into trouble, Harry should have found Dadron and Loki by now.”

  The sound of a helicopter setting down near the newly constructed barn shook the windows on the house. “What the hell is that?” Jake leapt out of his chair and headed for the back door.

  Mary Ann followed him. “That’s what you should have done in the first place. I called that nice Agent Wilkes, and he sent somebody to help.”

  Jake threw an arm around her and hugged her. “You’re an angel, Mary Ann Coomer.” He frowned. “But I thought we couldn’t fly over that area.”

  “Humph, depends on what you say and who you talk to.” Mary Ann smiled at him. “Now let me go. I can’t breathe.”

  A tall man with cropped sandy-colored hair climbed out of the cockpit as Jake approached. He turned and held out his hand. “Jake Savior?”

  Jake nodded. “I was expecting Brian.”

  “I’m Scott Riley, a member of Brian’s team. They’re all tied up with a serial killer at the moment. And before you ask, no, I don’t have any paranormal abilities at all, so I hope you know where we’re going.”

  Jake shook Scott’s hand. “Neither do I, and all I know is the general area.”

  “A quick bathroom break, and I could use a cup of coffee. After you fill me in, we’ll be on our way.”

  Jake introduced Scott to everyone and pointed him in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ll fix our coffee, but if you don’t mind, I’ll fill you in on the way.”

  “Actually I do mind, Jake. I’d like to get a view from everyone, especially Grace.” Scott moved toward the hallway. “I take my coffee black.”

  Grace refilled Jake’s cup and placed another one across the table. “I’ll get the maps for you.”

  “Thanks, Grace.” Jake sipped the coffee, his frustration turning into anger. Loki was out there somewhere, maybe hurt or dying, and everyone was moving at a snail’s pace this morning.

  Grace placed the maps on the table as Scott walked back into the room. “I’ve circled the spots I think you need to search first.” She glanced at Mary Ann and smiled. “As Mary Ann pointed out to us earlier, there’s no guarantee we’re right. I’d like to go along if there’s room.”

  Scott studied the map and nodded. “I can hold four plus me. How many are out there?”

  “Four that we know of, maybe more.”

  “Looks like the closest hospital is in Polarville. Would only take a few minutes to transport there and back.”

  Jake raised an eyebrow. “You said you weren’t paranormal, so why are you looking for the closest hospital?”

  “They’ve been out there almost a week. Even if there’s no one injured, they’re probably suffering from heat and exhaustion. They’ll all need to be checked out.”

  Mary Ann walked in carrying her medical bag. “I’ll be going along with you. Anna Claire can take care of Hope while we’re gone.”

  Scott glanced at Jake. “I’m assuming that’s okay with you? Can’t hurt to have a doctor along just in case.”

  “I won’t argue if we can get headed out now.” Jake drained his coffee cup and stood. “Otherwise I’m leaving without any of you.”

  Scott laughed. “Teresa and Karen warned me about you. All right, let’s get going.”

  37

  Jules rubbed his blistered and bloody hands on his jeans and sat down next to the mound. It had taken him the entire night, but he’d managed to remove all the garbage away from the bodies of his parents. He glanced at the hillside where his grandfather still lay battling with the imaginary owls. I should have killed him and tossed the garbage on top of his body.

  A wispy figure appeared on the hill and slowly moved toward him. His eyes misted, and a lump formed in his throat as her long black hair flowed out behind her. He’d always hated seeing the spirits, envying Loki and Dadron, but now he knew he was the lucky one. “Mom.”

  She smiled at him and waved a hand toward the hill. “Forgive him, Jules. We have.”

  “I don’t think I can do that. Where’s Dad?”

  “He’s with Loki and Dadron.”

  “Are they okay?”

  She nodded, her form beginning to fade. “There’s a lovely spot on the farm beneath the mountains near the lake. Your father and I would be very happy there.”

  Jules reached out, but she was gone. Sobs wracked his frame as he hugged his knees to his chest. The tears finally ended as the sun began to rise. Forgive him, Jules. He’d never disobeyed his mother, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive the man who had taken her from him. Rising, he glanced up the hill at the pitiful old man huddled in the fetal position, still whimpering. His mother hadn’t brought the owls, his grandfather’s guilt had. Jules wouldn’t have to kill him. He was already dead inside. All that remained was an empty shell filled with the nightmares of dreams. Ishkitini hadn’t gotten him, but the soul eater had.

  A shiver ran down Jules’s spine as the tall, dark man crested the hill and stood beneath the old oak. Silver gleamed in his hand as the man approached his grandfather. “Wait!” Jules ran up the hill. “Don’t hurt him.”

  “You must be Jules. I am Manjael. Killing him is the last of my mission. Then I can return to my homeland and my people.”

  Jules moved between him and his grandfather. “He’s my grandfather. I can’t let you kill him.”

  “He killed your parents. Do you not want to avenge their deaths?”

  “I came here to kill him.” Jules swallowed hard and bowed his head. “But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Look at him. He’s already dead in every way that counts.”

  Manjael studied the old man and nodded. “You Redmonds are a strange people. You save the lives of those you should kill.”

  Jules met his dark gaze. “We’re Choctaw.”

  Manjael’s even, white teeth flashed before he turned away. “That you are, my friend. Tell your sister I will see her again someday.” He stopped at the tree and glanced at the rising sun. “You have searched long for the mission of your soul.” His arms spread wide. “It is here all around you. There is much work to do to heal the evil your grandfather has done.”

  Jules thought about Millie and her group, the drugs filtering into their lands. Dadron was leaving, and Loki would be heartbroken if he left too, but he belonged here. Reaching down, he helped his grandfather to his feet. “Come, Grandfather. I promised you I would take you home.”

  Harry lowered his rifle and motioned for Tim and Reggie to check the bodies. His gaze was locked on Loki, her shoulders shuddering with each breath she took. He crossed the creek and sat beside her before pulling her into his arms. He placed her head on his shoulder. “He’s gone, honey. Let me carry him back to camp. We need to get out of the open in case there are more of these guys milling around.”

  Loki sniffled against his shirt. “There were only three left. Oh, Harry, how am I going to tell Neta?”

  “She knows. I checked on Dadron before I left, and she was crying, but she was also happy. She said she had felt his spirit move by her to say goodbye.”

  “He saved my life.”

  “It’s how he wanted to go. He told me before he came here that it was better to die happy than miserable.” Harry rose and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go home. There’s someone there waiting for you, and he’s getting pretty anxious.”

  “Jake. Is he okay?”

  “Dr. Coomer was taking care of him when I left. She’s probably had to keep him sedated to keep him from following us.”

  Tim jogged up beside them. “One dead, one still alive.”

  “Can he walk?” Harry asked.

  Tim shook his head. “He’s got a knife in his side. I’m afraid to pull it out.”

  Loki wiped her face on her sleeve. “I’ll fix it.”

  Harry knelt beside Nat, closed his eyes, and prayed before lifting the old man in his arms.

  “You need some help?”
Tim asked.

  “No, I’ve got him. Stay here and help Reggie and Loki. As soon as Dadron is on his feet, we’re going home.” Harry walked toward the cave, the body in his arms light. He didn’t know how Neta would feel about it, but Nat Blackwell deserved a warrior’s funeral.

  Loki stared at her reflection in the water as she brushed aside the silt and retrieved the black mud she would need to stop the bleeding. Her clothes were loose and her cheeks hollow. I look terrible. Will Jake even want me the way I look now? She sighed as she rose and made her way up the bank. She still had to deal with her grandfather. So many had already died because of his greed. She couldn’t let him continue.

  Kneeling beside the now trussed-up man, Loki ripped open the shirt.

  “He’s coming round.”

  Loki glanced at the huge man. “Who are you?”

  “Reginald Merriweather. We’ve talked on the phone.”

  “Thank you for taking care of Jake for me.”

  Reggie laughed. “More the other way around, ma’am. It was my pleasure.”

  “Hold him still.” Loki jerked the knife free and started pushing the mud into place. Once she’d finished, she took the knife and cut the shirt into strips. “Sit him up and bandage it. I want to see my brother.”

  “You go on ahead. Tim and I can finish up here.”

  Loki ran as fast as she could, covering the distance between her and Dadron. She even forgot her fear of caves as she rushed in.

  “He’s in the back. Come on. I’ll take you there.” Harry placed his arm around her. “Neta’s with him.”

  Fresh tears filled her eyes at the sight of Dadron so pale and weak. He’d always been the strong one. Kneeling beside him, she kissed his forehead, her tears falling on his face. “It’s over. We’re going home.”