How had the men found it—that’s what he wanted to know. He asked Real Tall Man, but the hataali just shook his head.
“They are not there. She is alone and lost.”
Jess glanced to the east. A small ribbon of light lined the horizon. Dawn would break and he could be on his way. He wanted to leave now, but he had to wait until Real Tall Man completed the ceremony.
Real Tall Man concluded the chants. With care he folded the corners of the blanket that they’d used for the cornmeal. The art design dissolved as he lifted the ends. The cornmeal used to construct the picture formed a pile of what looked like yellow sand.
Jess waited by the fire as Real Tall Man walked in a circle around the outer perimeter of their camp. First he faced east and scattered some particles of the sacred corn. Then he faced south and west and north, until he’d dispersed corn in all the correct directions.
His expression solemn, Real Tall Man next brought some medicinal herbs from his pack and gave them to Jess. “Take these. When you find Autumn, give them to her. It will heal her wounds.”
The mention of wounds renewed Jess’s anxiety.
Light pushed the edge of darkness away from the horizon when Jess finally mounted his horse and was on his way. Overhead, stars still glittered. He glanced at them and vowed that he would find Autumn before they appeared again.
* * *
Light filtered into the large cavern and cast shadows in the recessed corners. Autumn awoke and peered at the hole above her and tried to figure the time of day. It couldn’t be very late. She didn’t see direct rays. Sunlight wouldn’t reach the floor of the canyon until ten or eleven, at least—that is, if this cave was in the canyon.
She blinked and tried to focus on the events that had brought her here. Her muscles tightened when she remembered the blow to her head and where she was.
She moved her head slowly so as not to bring on another horrible ache. She couldn’t help but wonder if she was going to die in this hole—a slow, agonizing death of starvation and dehydration. The thought sent pangs of thirst and hunger to mingle with the fear.
Autumn grasped her turquoise nugget and nuzzled her head deeper into the crook of her arm. There had to be a way out of here. Jess would get her out. He wouldn’t let her die like this. Maybe the murderers would be back. She should get up and explore the cave.
Her muscles were stiff from cuts and bruises, but her injuries were forgotten when she spotted Arlo’s body. An ache of remorse lodged in her heart. It was too late to bridge the hatred there had been between them.
A tear trickled down her cheek, but she quickly brushed it aside. Maintain control, she thought as she struggled upright. With her eyes closed, she prayed for her uncle and then for herself.
With the prayers and thoughts of God watching over her, a small measure of confidence began to form. She was alone and trapped, and it was clear that whoever had thrown her in this cave was not coming back. It wasn’t a totally hopeless situation—she was mobile. She couldn’t climb to the hole above her, but there might be another way to escape. She prayed again.
Slowly, she turned to investigate her surroundings. The walls were stained—probably seepage caused by winter rains. Cobwebs hung from the dark corners. In one place, she thought she saw bats.
The floor of the cave was rocky. Were there any animal prints? Several marred the few stretches of powdered silt that had settled in the rock. Away from the light, the cave narrowed, but it was dark. Autumn stepped toward the shadows.
“A tunnel,” she practically shouted with excitement when she saw the narrow opening. It could be a way out.
.
CHAPTER 13
The shadows darkened as Autumn approached the narrowed section of the cave. Even though the light was dim, she saw a passageway. Whether it led anywhere was questionable. It could be labyrinth that went deeper underground.
Before entering the darkness, Autumn took another look around the cavern. The walls were solid. The only other opening was the skylight. It was a small hole, and judging from its position, probably not noticeable from outside. A search party would never find her.
The only people who knew of her whereabouts had killed Arlo. It was fairly clear that even if they did come back for her, she would not fare well. There were no other options but to try the passageway. She wouldn’t last long in here without water. It was best to attempt escape while she had the strength to move.
Logic was one thing, but action was another. Musty smells drifted out of the dark. It didn’t take much imagination to envision all sorts of creatures hidden in the recesses.
“Don’t think about it!” she ordered. “Just think about the desert. Picture what it looks like out there. Visualize yourself walking in the sunshine.” She took a deep breath and repeated over and over, “I’m brave. I’m free.”
The affirmation helped, but Autumn still had difficulty taking that first step. She faced the cavern filled with morning light, her uncle’s body a cold reminder of her fate if she didn’t move.
After one last wistful glance out the opening to the blue sky, she began the slow journey through the narrow tunnel. At once, the walls closed in on her. She managed to stem the claustrophobic feeling until she rounded a bend and was enveloped in total darkness. Quickly, she backed up where she could see the light from the cavern she’d been in.
She breathed deep to stem the hysteria. No way she could go into that total darkness—not alone, and especially not knowing where the tunnel led.
It didn’t take long to return back up to the cavern. What had seemed like a great distance turned out to be only a few feet. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she leaned against the wall near the entrance to the tunnel, grasping her nugget. She couldn’t go down that tunnel.
The emotional bout passed, leaving her throat dry. She needed water to survive. Another visual search proved she wasn’t going to get any in there. Again her uncle’s body reminded her of what would happen unless she took action.
She had a choice. She could stay here and die a slow death, or she could bury herself alive in the dark tunnels. The cavern offered light. The tunnels offered possible escape. She really had no choice.
Without allowing herself another thought, she swung into the narrow passage and forced herself to pass the bend where there was no more light.
Her eyes strained in the darkness. The air was musty, but not foul. A good sign. She imagined there was a slight breeze, but didn’t dare stop to investigate. She didn’t want to know if it was real or not.
A light formed in the distance. Suddenly, she could see the contour of the walls. With a shout, she scrambled to the source, heedless of her knees and hands as they scraped against the rough stone flooring. The tunnel widened into a small chamber, lit by a hole in the ceiling.
Relieved to see daylight again, she paused to consider her position. Like the other opening, it was situated too high to reach. This had to be a labyrinth created by water seeping through cracks in the rock and eroding the ground. Another tunnel beckoned, and again she had to muster courage to leave the light and enter the darkness.
She didn’t want to go, but forced herself to keep moving. She found two more rooms like the first. At least the holes provided fresh air and light. She didn’t even want to think about coming this far in total darkness.
Farther into the tunnel, she didn’t have much choice but to think of it. The passageway narrowed. It felt like the walls were pressing in on her. Her eyes ached from trying to see.
She could feel hysteria taking over. Her breathing became shallow and ragged. Every muscle in her body tensed. She had to get control.
Taking deep breaths helped. She closed her eyes and focused on her inner courage—the way Real Tall Man had shown her. The wave of fear passed, but it had taken its toll. It took monumental effort to keep crawling into the depths of darkness.
After several more yards, the tunnel wound left and then right. It narrowed until Autumn feared she might have to ba
ck out the way she’d come. Returning to the light tempted her. At least if she had to die, she could spend her last hours where she could see, not buried alive.
No. She wouldn’t let herself think like this. Pulling from reserves, she crawled on her hands and knees. For a moment, her muscles refused to obey the command to move. Would it be easier to curl up and simply die?
A sound prevented her from flopping back down on the floor of the tunnel. She peered behind her into the darkness and thought she saw a movement. She screamed and scrambled forward, ignoring the scraping of the rough stone floor on her knees. The tunnel widened for several feet and narrowed again. She peered into its depths but could not see a thing. It was so dark, she didn’t even know for sure if her eyes were open or closed.
After she bumped her head on a low overhang, she paused, listening for a sound. The silence hurt her ears.
It had been her imagination. She was hallucinating. That had to be it. “Help me,” she cried out, but didn’t repeat the plea. The small, lost sound of her voice in the empty tunnel frightened her more. She grasped her nugget, drawing courage from the turquoise stone.
Singing. Was that singing? It came from the tunnel. Autumn strained to hear the words of the chant. Real Tall Man’s voice seemed to fill the cave. His face floated before her. She started to reach out to it but pulled her hand back.
“Strength and courage are yours. Walk in the way of beauty.”
She’d heard her grandfather sing the Beauty Way chant for one of her cousins who’d been hurt in a fall.
The words came rushing back and filled her with strength. Real Tall Man would pray for her safety—if he knew she was lost.
Autumn pushed aside the doubt. She had no way of knowing for sure how long she’d been unconscious. It could have been more than one night. She crawled several more feet. Real Tall Man’s image appeared again. This time she stretched out her hand only to come into contact with cold rock .
She moaned. The eerie sound echoed down the chambers. Again, she collapsed on the floor, her muscles numb from fatigue and lack of water. This time Jess’s face appeared.
Quickly, she crawled onto her hands and knees. She had to move or she’d believe she was already dead and seeing ghosts.
That didn’t make sense. Jess and Real Tall Man weren’t dead. Or maybe they were.
For endless moments, she continued to crawl on the floor. The haunting chant called to her. In a trance, she stared at the apparition beckoning her to follow. Every time she got near it receded deeper into the tunnel.
“Jess.”
Hearing his name helped. If only he were there with her now, he would find a way out. He knew every inch of his property. Maybe she was no longer on his property.
The thought weakened her for a moment. She lowered her head and braced it on her fists while she struggled to maintain control. Thinking of Jess helped. She pretended she was crawling toward him.
Opening her eyes, she pictured him. He stood in front of her, beckoning her to follow him out of the cave.
“I’ll follow you, Jess,” she muttered as she struggled down the narrow passage. “I love you.”
The sound of singing started up again. Real Tall Man chanted another hatal. He would help her escape. After all, he was her grandfather and a powerful medicine man.
“I’m coming,” she told him.
She struggled on her knees and moved forward several more feet. When she rounded the bend, the light almost blinded her. She closed her eyes. Light meant only one thing—an opening.
Autumn scrambled, picking up her pace as she went. The light grew brighter, until finally, she came to a large room. It was three or four times bigger than the other chambers. There were several openings to the outside, but all of them were beyond reach. For a moment, she wanted to give in to despair.
Her hands and knees burned with scrapes and cuts from the rough rock. She tried to swallow, but her tongue stuck like a wad of dry cotton and she almost choked. Would she ever get out of here?
The joy at seeing light quickly dissipated. Her gaze out of focus, she stared at the sandstone walls stained an ominous black. It was an appropriate color for a tomb.
Suddenly she sat upright. Black walls. Sandstone wasn’t black. These walls were covered with soot—someone had built fires in here. Anasazi hunters had used this cave. That meant there had to be an exit.
Autumn silently prayed and called up the energy to cross the room and lean against the wall. Her fingers traced along the rough edges of sandstone. With her nails, she scratched the surface. Streaks appeared.
For the first time since she had regained consciousness on the cold floor of the cave, hope reigned. Had her prayers been answered? There had to be a way out. She edged around the large room. The fire rings showed up against the lighter colored rocks. At the opposite end from where she’d come in, she paused.
“What is this?” she whispered. Wonder sounded in the traces of her voice. Her gaze followed a shaft of sunlight coming from a long slit in the rock above her. Like an arrow, it lit a series of carved circles that spiraled from the center to the edge of light.
Autumn traced the ancient petroglyph. Circles usually represented water, but not this one. The light was shining down like a marker. She stared at the arrow made by the shaft of sunlight. It was like a sundial—a calendar to mark the seasons. She’d seen one in Chaco Canyon that was similar.
This proved that the Anasazi had been here. She pressed against the wall and let the relief wash through her, wondering where the entrance was.
Reluctant to pull away from the petroglyph and its reassuring evidence of life, she managed to explore the rest of the cavern. In another dark corner she found a tunnel. It was narrow and dark, barely wide enough to crawl through.
Not wanting another confining passageway, she looked for other exits. There were none. She returned to the hole and peered in. Like the other tunnels she’d traversed, there was no light at the end. Fear took hold. She could not go in that hole.
Her body refused to respond to her command to move. If that maze didn’t lead to an exit, she wouldn’t be able to draw upon any more inner strength. This effort would be the last she could make. If the tunnel proved to be a dead end, she doubted she’d be able to make it back here. At least here, there were signs of other human beings. She wouldn’t feel so alone when she drifted off into the sleep of death.
She glanced around the room. Filtered light cast shadows on the rough surface of sandstone. Cave art abounded. Walking toward the marked walls, she began to stall.
The animals looked like deer, but they were mountain sheep. She realized her ploy. She knew she didn’t have time to admire the art, yet she moved toward another drawing and traced her fingers on what looked like ears of corn with heads drawn on them. Corn maidens. They were known to have performed dances for a good crop.
Turning, she stared at the gaping hole. She worked at conjuring up courage, as Real Tall Man had taught her, but waves of cowardice washed away the effect. Clasping her turquoise nugget, she struggled to appear composed as she stood alone in the stone tomb.
Sweat trickled down Jess’s back and across his brow. He swiped at his forehead and then tucked the bandanna back into his pocket. The hope he’d allowed during the sing had long since lost its power. It was late morning and there had been no sign of Autumn.
To keep him from noticing the passage of time, he’d thought of every possible way to apologize to her for the cold treatment he’d given her these past months. He wouldn’t allow himself to think of the time they’d wasted while he suspected her of a connection with the drug operation.
“You could have gone to Real Tall Man and asked him,” a voice whispered inside his head. Jess ignored it. Until last night, he’d wanted nothing to do with the ways of The People. If Real Tall Man had assured him of Autumn’s innocence, Jess wouldn’t have believed it.
But now…
He wondered if believing the hataali this time had been a fatal m
istake. It had been hours and he still hadn’t found any sign of a cave. What a fool he’d been to slip into the old ways. He could be in a chopper right now. And damn, he was tired of the self-doubts.
After shifting the reins to his other hand, he guided his horse up the canyon again. He’d check one last time and then write off Real Tall Man’s dream as a bad hunch.
After checking the box canyon earlier in the day and finding no sign of life, he’d ridden up and down some nearby canyons, in case the hataali had misread the signs.
As his horse picked his way through the rock-strewn wash, Jess cursed his judgment again. Why had he listened to Real Tall Man? He should have followed his original plan and headed for the ranch. The sheriff could be at his place by now.
Jess glanced at the sky. Not even a cloud marred the crystal blue. A chopper should fly by soon. When it did, Jess planned to hail it down and get on it. He’d had enough of chasing dreams.
Heat shimmered as he approached the end of the box canyon. He didn’t bother to climb into the ruins again. The outside walls of adobe were crumbling, but the cliff wall was solid rock. There had been no sign of a cave.
At the foot of the cliff, Jess dismounted and stretched the kinks in his muscles. He was exhausted, but he ignored it. He’d let the horses drink and then head for the open space he’d spotted down the canyon, where there was room for a helicopter to land.
Again he cursed himself for being a fool and listening to Real Tall Man. After the death of his father, Jess had turned away from the way of Dineh. He’d been right to do so.
Daya’s way had been similar to Real Tall Man’s. She would have gone on a vision quest to find Autumn. But it wouldn’t have worked for the medicine woman, any more than it had for Real Tall Man.
The failure of Real Tall Man’s stargazing was no surprise. Daya had performed the Night Chant for Jess’s father and it had not saved her son. For nine days and nights she’d carried out the ceremony in minute detail, and in the exact prescribed order. Several days after the sing, Jess’s father had gone to town, drunk too much, and during the predawn hours of morning, rolled his pickup.
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