Burning Sky

by R. S. Scott

  “Old Man Taylor should be by soon with more of his powder. The feds also want some of it, can you believe that?” Karen drops her pen onto the floor.

  “That is so messed up. Why would the feds, who deal in facts and facts alone, want more of Old Man Taylor’s grave dirt concoction? That makes no sense.” I scan the report.

  “You still haven’t told the feds about this William guy?” Karen says.

  “Not yet. One mess at a time. When they let Tracy go, then I’m sure things will work itself out,” I say.

  Karen glares at me from her desk. “Keller, they have to know. They could charge you for withholding information and a host of other shit. They need to know.”

  “And how should I tell them? I spoke to Tracy on a tapped line, tapped by them. With them listening she called out this William guy, they already know.” I move on to a report from Sharon.

  Karen sits fiddling. “I just think it’s a good idea to cover our asses in case they start auditing shit like we know they’re going to do.”

  “Thing is, why the hell would Tracy give me all that info, knowing the feds are listening to our conversation. She didn’t tell them directly but more indirectly, right?”

  Karen glares at me with a crooked scowl. “Yeah, makes sense, I suppose.”

  “So, if the feds start their manhunt in Flagstaff for William, it is not really held against her, right?” I ask. I am a bit confused.

  “Not really. FBI have one of Simon’s soldiers and the one, the only, Tracy Monroe. I think William and the rest of us can all assume they know everything those two know, they’re probably chasing his ass down already.”

  “With help from that soldier, Tracy, and now Chris.” We share a glance. “Damn, so it’s not really the Nelsons raising hell, it’s this William guy then, right?”

  Karen sits thinking. “You might be onto something there, Keller. What about Simon, though? That little shit.”

  “Simon by himself is a scared little punk, but with his soldiers with him, he’s a monster. So, he’s brought in by the Yazzies and the Wilsons as a sort of tangent to what this William guy is orchestrating?” I ponder out loud.

  “Maybe they don’t know they are being orchestrated by William, remember the sushi? Oh my God.” Karen buries her face in her tiny hands. “I hate fish.” Karen looks on with a serious gaze. “If the Yazzies brought in Simon, could they already know about this William guy, then?”

  “Good question there, Thomas,” I say.

  “The Yazzies bring in Simon to try to disrupt what William is doing by making William’s pawns turn on each other? Maybe?” Karen thinks out loud.

  “Then Simon makes this outrageous demand, and they agree to it without thinking things through, like the girl is Old Man Taylor’s granddaughter, and we’re not going to let that happen.” I say and sip my tea.

  “They can’t get Rebecca because we’re protecting her. Pastor and his God have that down. So, Simon decides to go after her in Phoenix, but then the feds are waiting for him. Chris does his thing. Tracy is there, and Simon runs off,” Karen says.

  “Damn, so who do we support now? Simon? Or this William guy that seems to be beyond everyone? If he can make the Nelsons do what they’re doing, what the hell is he really up to then? But if the Yazzies intentionally brought in Simon, knowing what he is capable of and knowing what he is going to do, what are the Yazzies then really capable of?” I adjust my chair. “My father operated just below a Rainmaker. That’s powerful stuff there. There are more levels up beyond that, but I’ve never even seen one of those guys if there is one.” I shake my head. “What do we fight him with? How do we fight him? Or should we call a truce just to end it?”

  Karen sips more of her tea. “Makes you wonder what the FBI really knows doesn’t it? They were ready for Simon and his goons down at Salt River. They had the local medicine man briefed, local PD were armed to the teeth, and who knows what else they had going.” Karen pauses. “Hey, what’s a Rainmaker? A guy who makes rain?” she chuckles.

  “He’s a guy that has studied the way of…” I say waving my arms contemplating a workable English translation, “The way of positive and negative, light and darkness, up and down.”

  “Huh?” Karen says.

  “OK, let’s say this, if you have a sunny day, and you need rain for the cornfields, what then can you do with the sunny day? You make the opposite a reality, you make the rain. When people mourn and are sad from life’s problems, they bring a counter-balance to it, it makes them happy and brings joy, follow me?”

  Karen nods. “I think so.”

  “So, it’s working with this continued balance, the harmony of it all, the two opposing forces balancing each other out. One does not overtake the other. You always have an equal amount of each working together. You just can’t have all happy or all sad, or all sunny days and no rainy days, or all rainy days and no sunny days. There’s no balance there. But the bad part is when those rainmakers grow dark and align themselves with the witchdoctors, they can really make a mess of things. Where there are happiness and contentment, they can bring chaos and hatred,” I tell Karen.

  “Like that chapter meeting,” Karen says.

  “Yup, and where there’s life, they can bring death. But, this is where things get so fucked up, where there’s death, they can bring life to it,” I say.

  “Raising the dead? Like necromancy?” Karen points while holding her teacup.

  “Yep. A form of it,” I confirm.

  “Oh my God!” Karen says.

  “Yeah, when I went to see Tracy, it was three floors beneath the ground under the hotel tower. The halls were long and damp. She made this comment that we all had to leave that Rez. All of us, but she could stay because she was three stories under the ground like she was hinting at a grave or something, being or dwelling under the ground like that was acceptable by the locals as equaling a level of death.”

  “Like being dead or somehow assumed you’re dead is acceptable, signified by being below the ground like that?” Karen says and spills her coffee. “Shit.”

  “Yeah, Karen, you’re a damn genius. Just don’t tell Holden I said that,” I say.

  “Why not?” Karen asks.

  “Because I also told him he was the genius, but you’re the real genius.” I dig through more reports. “Where’s that manuscript of the feds and that apartment in Scottsdale? It’s the eyes. Falcon, I think. Was that a dead falcon you pulled off of that flying guy? Karen?”

  She smiles wide. “I’m a genius. Come on, let’s get some ice cream. I want some ice cream.”

  “Karen, it’s snowing outside.” I point to delicate flakes descending outside our window. “It’s cold out there, and you want ice cream? We have a lot of police shit to do here.”

  CHAPTER 20

  We stumble into Teesto trading post.

  I inquire. “Ice cream, it’s cold out. We want ice cream, anyway.” The cashier points to the rear of the trading post.

  “Come on. I’ll buy.” Karen leads on into the small market. The trading post walls are adorned with gaudy leather items made in foreign countries, pottery from Taiwan, and music from alternative rock bands. The north wall of the market is lined with glass doors housing refrigerated and frozen items. Karen marches to the frozen foods section.

  I stop and glance at the items behind the cashier’s register. “Where’d you get that bow?”

  “We’ve had it for a while. It’s old school from back in the day. Deer hunter’s bow, I think. We got those arrows, too.” He points to several arrows in a sheath.

  “Yeah, elk bows are bigger. My grandfather used to make them.” I observe.

  “That’s cool. My grandfather is dead. Old and dead.” The cashier smiles, “So dead, so old and so dead.”

  I glare at the cashier. “Deer arrows are different from elk arrows. Both made the same way, but elk arrows are much longer and thicker. You have to hit them from the front or the back. The shoulder bone is just too thick on the big bu
cks.”

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t know,” the cashier smiles awkwardly and fiddles with the cash drawer.

  I note his awkwardness and the metallic tone to his voice. “Your name is Leland,” I point to the nametag on his shirt. “What’s your last name Leland?”

  Karen arrives with two ice cream bars. “How much? Two chocolate bars, the good stuff.” Karen hands me a chocolate bar then digs in her pockets for change.

  “Everything you have,” Leland smiles. “You stupid woman, everything you have.” A shotgun appears.

  A smaller man strolls through the front door hoisting a silver baseball bat. Behind me there is a man, he pulls my sidearm as I feel the barrel of a shotgun plunge into my right shoulder. “Don’t move now.”

  The blade is cold against my neck. Karen pulls her pistol and is met with the silver bat as her gun spirals into the air, disappearing behind the counter with metallic clangs.

  “Bastard!” A brawl ensues between Karen and the small man. Leland, the cashier, sighs in annoyance, his complexion changes, as does his facial appearance. With a slew of punches, elbow strikes, and a roundhouse effort, Karen stands victorious with blood streaming from her mouth. “Bastard.” She kicks the small man who lays motionless.

  “Are we done here?” Leland inquires. “Karen, luscious and lovely Karen, we’ve missed you.” He holds Karen’s pistol. “This is a beautiful piece, Germany’s finest.”

  “Let him go!” Karen demands.

  “Karen, that’s not how this works.” Leland rounds the counter and stands in front of Karen. “You stupid woman, that’s not how this works. You see all this time we’ve never considered the direct approach, until now. So here we are. Boo!” He laughs.

  As he glances in my direction Karen strikes the cashier upwardly in the nose. He staggers back as Karen retrieves her gun. “Let him go, right now!” She points at the man behind me. “Now!”

  “Karen, put the gun down.” Leland holds a rag to his face. “You broke my nose, you stupid woman. Put it down!”

  “No, you let him go!” Karen shouts. “Leland Nelson, I know who you are.”

  “No, Karen, that’s not how this works.” Her aim slowly starts to tremble. Tears start to well in her eyes. “Karen, put it down, please. I’m saying please, here. I’m using the word ‘please.’ Please Karen, put it down.” Leland smiles, the blood from his nose has stopped gushing.

  Slowly Karen’s aim turns around as the pistol barrel then sits at the side of her head. She slowly begins to weep. Her hand shakes, finger still on her trigger. She holds her gun to her head. “You let him go, right now, I’ll do whatever you want, just let him go, not him.”

  “Karen don’t do it, don’t you do it!” My slight struggles are met with a hard jab into my left kidney.

  “Karen, put it down, just put it down. I’m not after either of you, so just put it down. You two are just getting in the way and the sooner we’re done with you the better.” Leland says.

  Karen’s face flickers then she winces loudly. She grabs her crotch and drops to one knee. “OK, OK.” Her hand moves from her crotch to pull her finger away from the pistol trigger then slowly and forcibly lowers her gun. “OK.”

  “On the ground, drop it.” Karen drops her pistol as it makes a tingling, stainless-steel sound upon the masonry. “On your knees, now!”

  Karen obeys.

  “So, Karen.” Leland approaches a kneeling Karen, “Ready to come home? You’ve been away too long.” She spits at Leland. He moves in, grabs her by the top of her hair. “You’ve become unruly as well, you fucking whore of a woman.” He strikes her, a hard right to her cheek as she crumbles to her side.

  “Karen!” I am held back by the knife on my neck and the gun on my shoulder. My right arm moves as if forced through thick, metallic, pasty water. My senses become alive. “Karen?”

  “The Keller boy, don’t worry, we’ve just begun.” Leland smiles.

  “Wake up, Keller. Wake up!” A loud voice thunders into my right ear.

  My headache is unbearable. My face throbs, my hands bound behind me. I slowly look around. “Where am I? Karen?”

  “Karen is indisposed. She’s busy, back doing what she enjoys doing.” A familiar voice speaks from recordings I’ve heard prior. Daren Monroe sits in a chair in front of me. Police Chief Daren Monroe sits before me.

  “Daren? You’re alive? How?” I ask.

  “Silly boy.” He rises holding a silver bat. He hits me with the bat, a hot blaze forms in my right shoulder. “I hear Tracy is going to have your son.” He hits me again. “A shame, but that’s good. That stupid whore is no different than you. Our lineage will continue either way. It is a damn shame you’re a cop, though. It makes things a bit more complicated than they have to be.” He sits back down. “But we will endure.”

  “You’re working with the Nelsons, why?” I ask.

  “Officer Keller, you see it’s a grand offense to assault a peace officer like I have, but then again I’m dead, didn’t you know?” Daren laughs.

  “You faked your death?” I ask.

  “No, I was dead. Now I’m back,” Daren says.

  “That’s a lie,” I say and try to move my stiffening shoulder. “A fucking lie.”

  “It is true, though. What you believe to be true is sort of irrelevant to reality, isn’t it, Officer Keller?”

  “Where is Karen?” I ask.

  “She’s busy, but don’t divert the conversation now. Let’s keep going, ask me why you are here. Go on, ask,” Daren says.

  I glare at Daren, “Why am I here?”

  “Very simple, you’ve been recruited.” He shrugs. “Simple as that.”

  “What for?” I ask.

  “The Rainmaker, you’ve heard of him, William, he’s from the Redhouse clan from Canyon Diablo area. He’s a ruthless bastard, but he’s going down soon, and he’s taking just about everyone down with him, so we’re going to get rid of him.”

  “The Nelsons are working with him?” I ask.

  “No, it’s a damn shame you killed Richard, but it was his time. He understood that. We allow certain privileges, or allowances to William to keep him looking the other way. As long as he believes we’re doing his shit, he looks the other way. You understand that, Keller?” Daren says.

  I nod.

  “You see, your great grandfather was a very powerful man. Very powerful. He had ascended to the realms of the corn gods and such before they killed him. He didn’t get there by normal means. He was somehow able to ascend without the traditional ways of maneuvering, of manipulating one’s ambitions with one’s fears. He ascended there a different way. He was reaching for the stars when the others killed him. They were afraid of him. An entire village of Papago was wiped out over a gold mine dispute. That was him. He slaughtered hundreds in one night.”

  “I won’t be that,” I say.

  “We’re not asking you, Keller. We’re going to make it happen either way.” He smiles. “Relax, this William can’t see you in here. Actually, this here doesn’t even exist where things are out there.”

  “Where am I?” I ask.

  “You’re here. That’s all that matters. If you resist, it’s going to hurt that much more, so don’t go there.” He motions to a woman carrying a tray of food. “This is the lovely Rebecca. Isn’t she pretty? Anyway, eat up, it’s all for you.” He motions to the doorman. “Untie Officer Keller, he’s going to eat.” He turns back to me. “I’ll be back.”

  “Wait, what about Simon?” I ask.

  Daren stands infuriated. “Simon is a major pain in both our asses. Eat up. You’re going to need your strength.” He walks away as Rebecca sits opposite. She smiles. I eat slowly and cautiously.

  “Is this poisonous?” I ask. She smiles again and shakes her head. I struggle with my right arm. The doorman stands at a distance with folded arms. I look on intently. The door is of cedar wood and the walls also of cedar, as is the ceiling. The floor is earth and dust. There is a second door to my right as the a
ir draft carries sage smoke toward the doorman, he stands silently with folded arms.

  “I don’t suppose you have any soda? Any root beer? I’m very thirsty.” The guard ignores me. I turn to a smiling Rebecca. “Hi, do you have anything else but this dirty water?”

  “No, that’s it.” We sit as I eat my stew and bread, washing it down with the dirty water.

  Rebecca looks on intently. “I remember you, I do.”

  “Listen, I barely remember who I am. That idiot knocked some brain cells loose with his bat. Where are we?” I ask.

  Rebecca glances at the doorman. “Somewhere safe.”

  “Safe from what?” I say.

  “Just safe.”

  “OK.” I glance at the doorman. “Where’s Karen?”

  He ignores me.

  “Yo! Pigeon-face! Where is Karen? Stubby Navajo woman with the disposition of a raging teddy bear, where is she?” I approach the doorman. “Those flaps beside your head work?” I stand inches from the guard. I note his sidearm. “That’s mine.” Rebecca pulls on my arm. “Too bad you don’t know anything about guns, I’ve removed the trigger from that weapon, probably the only FN Five-Seven on this Rez. It won’t fire. I bet you didn’t know that.”

  “Steve, sit back down, please,” Rebecca says and pulls at my arm. “Please.”

  I again take my seat. “We’re not through, you and me.” The doorman smiles and pats my firearm strapped to his side. “Remember me. I will end you. You’ve been in Jess’s dreams too often.” He glances at me. “Yeah, you’re him. You look exactly like the man she describes. Remember me. You are a dead man. You’re a dead man.” I smile, “A fucking dead man.”

  “I can get you a cola,” Rebecca says and takes my hand. “It’s cold, too.”

  I glare at Rebecca. “A fucking root beer, get me one of those, geez.” I pull my hand away. “Make sure it’s cold.”