Evil Spirits

by Mark Lukens

  Angie turned to the door. “Where’s my husband? How come he isn’t with you?”

  “He’s in the front yard. He got hit with something. I can’t carry him. You need to help him.”

  “Don’t do it,” David told her.

  For a second David was sure he’d gotten through to Angie, but then she twisted the deadbolt knob and unlocked the lock on the doorknob.

  The front door flew open and Billy Nez rushed inside, crashing into Angie, knocking the shotgun from her hands. The weapon dropped to the floor and slid into the corner by the door, hitting the wall.

  David rushed towards the door without thinking about it, a white fury in his mind. He just wanted all of this to stop; he just wanted the Ancient Enemy to go away, to leave him and everyone he knew alone.

  “Stop!” David yelled. He thrust his hands out in front of him like he was going to push Billy Nez back. The symbols Billy had painted on David’s skin a few hours ago began to glow, like little heating elements were warming up, first yellow, then orange, then a deep red.

  Billy Nez was rocked back in the doorway from the invisible force that came out of David. Billy stood ramrod straight for just a second, then he fell forward onto the floor inside the house, his body smashing apart like a porcelain doll as it hit the floor, his head and hands coming loose from the rest of his body. Other sections of his body came apart inside his clothing, like large pieces of rocks were inside his shirt and pants.

  David lowered his hands.

  Angie was still on the floor in front of Billy as large black beetles crawled out of his body, crawling out of the ends of his wrists and the stump of his neck. She scrambled back away from Billy’s body, crab walking back along the floor, kicking and screaming as she tried to get away from the broken corpse.

  The backs of the fat black beetles shined in the moonlight that came in through the open front door. The beetles crawled all over Billy’s body, but they weren’t coming forward, they crawled along Billy’s back and legs, collecting on the floor beyond his legs, forming into another creature, swirling like a black smoke out onto the front porch, building and collecting mass, its shape constantly shifting and changing in the shadows under the porch. The writhing black shape tore away into the night like smoke carried along the wind.

  David looked down at his hands and wrists. The Anasazi symbols were no longer glowing. Had the Anasazi writing on his skin helped, or had the power come from somewhere inside of him?

  Angie was back on her feet, right in front of David now, staring at Billy Nez, making sure he wasn’t moving. The pieces of his body were motionless now, the black beetles swept away in the night wind. The Ancient Enemy was gone for now.

  David wondered why the Ancient Enemy had gone away. It had Angie right there in the foyer. It could have grabbed her and taken her out into the yard. Had David pushed it back or had the Ancient Enemy gone willingly? Why would it just leave like that?

  “Where’s Awenita?” Angie asked when she turned to look at David.

  CHAPTER 33

  David

  Iron Springs, New Mexico

  David spun around. He hadn’t even heard his aunt leave, never even knew she wasn’t behind him anymore.

  She ran, David told himself. She saw that monster that used to be Billy Nez in the doorway and she ran. She was probably hiding somewhere right now.

  Or the reason the Ancient Enemy hadn’t attacked was because it had only been a distraction.

  David didn’t want to listen to that voice in his mind, but he had a nauseous feeling in his stomach as he hurried into the kitchen and the dining room. He looked around. He had his cell phone in his hand again, the screen lit up to give him some light. He shined the light around the rooms so quickly that it seemed like the shadows were racing along the walls.

  “Aunt Awenita!” David called.

  Angie stared at the door that led to her husband’s man-cave—the door was ajar.

  David saw what Angie was staring at. She’s in there, he told himself. She’s in there hiding, scared to death.

  David bolted to the door and pushed it open, letting the meager light from his cell phone guide his way. The light from the phone lit up most of the room but kept the corners and the bar in shadows. He stopped in his tracks when he came to Captain Begay’s two leather recliners. There on the floor between the backs of the chairs and the bar was his aunt sprawled out, her face staring up at the ceiling, her eyes wide open, her throat a gory mess, the blood so dark and glistening in the light from his cell phone.

  “No,” David whispered. “Please, no.”

  The light on his phone winked out and he had to push the button to light it up again. For a second as he stood in the darkness David thought his aunt’s body would be gone when he lit the phone back up again. For a second he thought that he hadn’t really seen her on the floor, that it had been a hallucination. But when he lit the phone up again she was still there, still in exactly the same position on the floor.

  “He wants to take everything from you first,” a deep voice said from behind David.

  David turned around, shining his cell phone at the voice like he was aiming a weapon. A tall man was right behind Angie, holding a hunting knife up to her throat. The knife blade still had a little bit of blood on it like his aunt’s blood hadn’t been wiped off well enough. Angie stood motionless, afraid to move an inch with the blade up to her throat. The man’s skin was so pale in the light, like a living corpse. But this man wasn’t dead, he was very much alive—he was the killer. David had never actually seen the killer in his dreams, but he had sensed the evil and he felt that same evil right now. The man was thin but all muscle that could erupt in explosive power. His head was shaved clean and he had no eyebrows left, just hard ridges of bone and flesh that protruded over his eyes, the darkest eyes that David had ever seen, eyes that showed no mercy or compassion. The killer’s mouth spread into a smile of triumph, his lips shiny in the cell phone’s light.

  David knew the Ancient Enemy wasn’t inside the killer anymore; it was out there waiting in the night for its puppet to complete the task.

  “It will kill you after you kill me,” David told the killer. “It’s only using you to get to me.”

  “I know,” the killer said. “I want it to use me. I want to help it, to serve it, to give it what it wants. And what it wants more than anything is for you to be dead. And I’m going to give that to it. First I’m going to cut this woman’s throat while you watch, and then I’m coming for you.”

  David had nowhere to run; Begay’s man-cave had no doors that led outside and he wouldn’t have time to get out through the windows. He already knew he didn’t stand a chance in a fight against the killer, and he couldn’t use his power on the killer because he was just a man now that the Ancient Enemy wasn’t inside of him anymore. But David swore he would fight as hard as he could when the killer came for him, he would fight as hard as he ever had.

  Angie looked resigned to her fate, closing her eyes now. She looked close to passing out.

  “Say goodbye,” the killer whispered to David. The killer was about to rip the blade across Angie’s throat, but then his forehead exploded open. Blood, bits of brain, and tiny pieces of skull came flying out. His eyes had bulged in surprise in that millisecond, his mouth falling open. His body went limp. The knife slipped out of his already dead fingers.

  Angie pushed herself away from the killer, a scream escaping her throat. Blood from the killer’s forehead was splattered all over the top of her head, making her hair shiny in the darkness.

  David stood in the middle of the floor, unable to move for a moment as he watched the killer fall forward onto his face, bones crunching when he hit the floor.

  Emerging from the darkness of the kitchen was a man, a gun still in his hand. He lowered the gun now, aiming it down at the pale body of the killer as he inched his way forward to the doorway, revealed in the light of David’s cell phone. It was Agent Palmer.

  Palmer entered t
he room, still aiming his gun down at the dead killer.

  David realized that he hadn’t even heard the gunshot, he had somehow blocked out the noise as the top half of the killer’s face exploded outward.

  The wind gusted outside, another sound David hadn’t noticed until now. But the wind was dying down already, and David could hear the sirens of police cruisers getting closer.

  “David,” Agent Palmer said. “Are you okay?”

  David nodded.

  Palmer looked at Angie. She was crying. “Captain Begay’s outside,” he told her. “He got hit in the head pretty hard. He’s hurt, but I think he’s going to be okay.”

  Angie erupted into tears, falling to her knees and sobbing.

  Palmer looked back at David.

  “It’s gone for now,” David told the FBI agent like he had asked the question. “It will be back, but for now it’s gone.”

  CHAPTER 34

  Palmer

  Iron Springs, New Mexico

  As dawn began to break Palmer was outside with David, Captain Begay, and Angie. The ambulance was there, ready to take Captain Begay to the hospital. Palmer guessed that Begay had been hit in the head with some kind of blunt object, a rock or maybe a stick. There was a pretty good gash on his head and dried blood caked the side of his face. There was more blood all over the front of his shirt. He had twisted his knee in the fall and he could hardly walk.

  The paramedics had inspected the other bodies: Awenita and the killer in Begay’s house, Billy Nez—the pieces of him—in Begay’s doorway, and the five severed heads in the front yard, the heads rammed down onto a long thin metal rod that had been driven into the ground.

  Another officer of the Navajo Tribal Police found Officer Sam’s headless body beside Doli’s Chevy Impala. He had called it in and one of the other officers eventually came to Begay’s house, calling all of the other officers when he got there. Two officers were now on their way out to Billy Nez’s home where Palmer was sure they would find the car that the killer had driven down here.

  Palmer had gotten to Begay’s house before any of the police officers had. He had driven past the house and saw the front door wide open. He suspected something was wrong, but more than that, he felt it. He’d parked thirty feet down the road, sneaking in through the driveway between Begay’s new pickup truck and a minivan. Now that he was closer, he saw that there appeared to be a body in the doorway of Begay’s house. But what caught his eye was the large body lying in the middle of the yard. He hurried over to the fallen man, crouching down as he ran, his gun out.

  It was Captain Begay on the ground. The side of his head and face were covered with blood. He saw the stack of severed heads near Begay, like some kind of grisly totem pole erected in the middle of the yard. He checked Begay’s pulse in his neck and was surprised to find one.

  The wind had kicked up at that moment and it made it even harder for Palmer to see in the darkness, but he knew he had to leave Begay behind for the moment and get into the house. He sprinted across the front yard to the front door and stared down at the man’s body there, the head and hands detached from the corpse.

  From behind him, Palmer heard the wind gusting, he heard the leaves rattling in the trees. It felt like something was rushing up behind him, but Palmer made himself wait there in the doorway, hiding in the shadows of it, watching the interior of the home. He saw a shadowy figure moving through the kitchen, sneaking up behind a woman and putting a knife to her throat. He was the killer, Palmer was sure of it. Maybe he couldn’t save all of these people, but he could get in there and put a bullet in the killer’s brain. At least he could do that much.

  Palmer crept forward with his gun in his hand. He was trying to be quiet but he was also trying to move quickly. He knew he didn’t have much time. He heard the killer talking in a deep voice. He heard David from the next room telling the killer that the Ancient Enemy wasn’t going to let him live after this.

  The killer didn’t care; all he wanted to do was give the Ancient Enemy what it wanted, to serve his new master.

  Palmer was only three feet away when he shot the killer in the back of the head. He hadn’t been sure if the killer had already slit Angie’s throat, but if he didn’t take the shot then her death was going to be certain in the next few seconds.

  After it was all over Palmer brought David and Angie out to the front yard, out to Begay. Angie didn’t seem to notice the stack of heads (or didn’t want to), she only concentrated on her husband who was beginning to wake up, trying to sit up, grunting with effort as he got to his feet, hobbling on one leg.

  They moved slowly across the dirt yard to the driveway, Begay limping the whole way. Begay sat down on the back of his truck after Palmer lowered the tailgate.

  “Thank you,” Begay told Palmer when they told him what had happened, how Palmer had shot the killer.

  Two officers from the tribal police were there within minutes. They said more officers were on their way. They had searched the yard and house. One officer brought a white bedsheet from the back of his car and draped it over the stack of severed heads in the middle of the front yard.

  And now Palmer waited as the paramedics got Begay onto a gurney.

  “I need to make a quick phone call,” Palmer told them. He walked away and called Cardenelli. “I got the killer,” he told Cardenelli when he was out of earshot of the others.

  For a moment Cardenelli was in shock, still trying to come fully awake.

  “He’s dead,” Palmer said into the phone. “No ID on the killer yet, but I’m certain the shoe tread, clothing fibers, and DNA will be a match to what you’ve got up there.”

  “Where . . . where the hell are you?”

  “In New Mexico. Iron Springs. On the Navajo Reservation.”

  “The same place—”

  “Yes, where the Dig Site Murders happened.”

  “How did you know he’d be there?”

  Palmer could hear the suspicion in Cardenelli’s voice. “The killer was trying to re-create the Dig Site Murders, but he also wanted revenge on anyone involved with the murders seven years ago. He got Teresa to get to me. I figured he might go after Captain Begay of the Navajo Tribal Police and his family. And I figured he might go after David Bear, the boy Stella took from the dig site.”

  “You got him before he killed anyone?”

  “No,” Palmer answered. “He got seven of them down here before I could stop him. A whole family, an Officer named Sam Yazzie, and David’s aunt. All of the victims have already been positively ID’d.”

  “Survivors?”

  “Yes. David survived. Captain Begay and his wife. Captain Begay was injured. An ambulance is here now. It’s a head injury but he seems to be okay.”

  “This is . . . How am I going to explain this?” Cardenelli asked. “You’re retired. You’re not even supposed to be down there.”

  “I came down here on my own to visit my friend Captain Begay and his wife. I came to warn them that he and his loved ones might be in danger. I guess I was just in the right place at the right time.”

  “Hmm,” Cardenelli said, but he didn’t sound happy.

  “But I didn’t get here soon enough,” Palmer said more to himself than to Cardenelli. “Not nearly soon enough.”

  “I’ll text you the number of the FBI office in Farmington,” Cardenelli said like he hadn’t even heard Palmer’s words. “You tell them to get out there now.”

  “Klein still in charge there?”

  “No,” Cardenelli answered. “New guy. He’ll get forensics there and take care of everything. I don’t want those bodies touched or disturbed in any way. Is that clear?”

  “Clear.”

  “And you let the tribal police know that this is the FBI’s case now. I don’t want them involved.”

  “I think they already know that.”

  Cardenelli hung up without giving Palmer an “attaboy” or a “good job.” Palmer figured that Cardenelli was pissed because he and his boys hadn’t br
ought the killer down themselves; it had taken and ex-FBI agent, an ex-drunk, to do it. But Palmer was sure Cardenelli would find a way to spin all of this in his favor, find some way that he could take credit for this.

  The morning was brightening up quickly. Some of the officers of the tribal police were holding a few of the onlookers in the street back. One of the officers had already sectioned off the front yard with yellow police tape.

  Palmer went back to the captain, David, and Angie. The paramedics were already tending to Begay on the gurney even though he insisted that he was okay.

  “He’s probably got a concussion and a sprained knee,” the paramedic told Angie, and then looked at Palmer, anyone but Begay. “He should get some tests done.”

  “I don’t need any tests,” Begay grumbled.

  “Yes, you do,” Angie said. “And you’re going with them.”

  David watched in silence, still stunned by the death of his aunt. Begay looked at David then at Palmer. He looked at the paramedics. “Can I get a moment alone with these guys?”

  The paramedics didn’t look willing to leave, like Begay might try to escape.

  Begay pointed at Palmer. “He’s from the FBI and I need to tell him something real quick. Can you give us a little breathing room? I’ll go with you after that.”

  The two paramedics walked away.

  Begay looked at David. “This isn’t over, is it?”

  “No,” David whispered. “It’s going to come back.”

  “Cole and Stella might be in trouble,” Begay said to Palmer. “They’re down in Costa Rica. David wants to go down there. Is there any way you could help him with that?”

  “I . . . I don’t know—”

  “I don’t need to go there anymore,” David said.

  Palmer stared at David.

  “They’re coming here,” David said. “Stella and Cole will be here soon.”

  “How do you know?” Begay asked. “Did you hear from them?”