Thunderstone

by Barbara Pietron

  She got back in bed feeling rather pleased with herself. Her gaze drifted toward the window. A slice of moon cut across the black strip of glass at the edge of the shade. If they retrieved the statue, the first premonition couldn’t come to fruition. Jeni stared at the ceiling, recalling the dream from the night before.

  Suddenly she sat up and her eyes snapped to the window. Crawling to the end of the bed, she drew the shade back and looked into the sky—a replica of the sky in her dream tonight.

  In her first dream the sky was cloudy. The distant lightning and wind promised a thunderstorm on the way. The same weather her dad said was coming tomorrow.

  The statue was there right now.

  And Jeni knew how to find the cellar.

  Hold on a minute. If it were there now, it would still be there in the morning. What was she thinking? Go out in the dark in the middle of the night by herself?

  No way.

  She wouldn’t.

  She couldn’t.

  Jeni didn’t lie back down.

  She knew if she closed her eyes she’d see Ice’s limp body hanging from the monster’s mouth.

  Tonight’s dream didn’t show her and Ice finding the statue in the daylight, it showed her, by herself, at night. There must be a reason why. Unfortunately the only reason Jeni could think of is that the statue would no longer be there in the morning.

  How could she shrug this off? She had to know. Had to see if there really was a cellar. And if so, was the statue there?

  Her mind flicked to Tyler.

  No. Not after today.

  She had to do this herself or forget about it.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she pictured Ice. The way his face lit up when he saw her. His easy smile. The sincerity reflected in his blue eyes when he spoke.

  Without making any conscious decision about what she was doing, Jeni peeled her pajama bottoms off and slid out of bed. Fortunately her jeans were on top of the pile of clothes on her suitcase. She slipped them on, picked up her purse from the floor, and retrieved her reading light from the nightstand.

  Still allowing herself to think of only her current action, she entered the kitchen and shone her light around the room, searching for her mom’s purse. She needed the car keys.

  Shoot.

  She did not want to sneak into her parents’ room.

  Her gaze fell on her dad’s jacket, hanging from a hook. He always left the keys in his pocket. When she hurried over and squeezed the bottom of the jacket, her right hand was rewarded with a heavy lump. She snaked her hand inside the pocket and extracted the keys, then slipped into her shoes and fleece jacket.

  Despite her best efforts to fool herself, Jeni’s heart was hammering in her chest by the time her hand grasped the doorknob. She took a deep, calming breath, but it rushed out in ragged bursts, exposing rather than abating her terror.

  She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, hand on the doorknob, eyes closed, summoning the courage to leave the cottage. Finally, she slowly rotated the knob, only opening her eyes when the latch was free of the doorjamb. With just enough room for her to slip through, she quickly stepped out and eased the door closed behind her. At the back corner of the cottage, the motion sensor light blazed into action causing relief and alarm in equal measure.

  Jeni hurried to the car and got in, barely latching the door. The lingering smell of her mom’s hand cream and the faint fast food odor held a tiny amount of comfort. Holding her breath, she turned the key in the ignition. Without waiting to see if the noise woke anyone, she shifted into reverse and backed out onto the gravel road. In drive, she hardly touched the gas pedal with her trembling foot as the car slowly crept from the cottage.

  When she reached the blacktop, Jeni opened her door, swung it shut tight, and hit the power lock button. She pulled out, not daring to contemplate the inky shapes looming on both sides of the road.

  Her heart thumped madly, every breath a struggle. Jeni fought the urge to slam on the brakes and turn around.

  Maybe she could call Ice, ask him to meet her there. Phone in hand, she looked at the car’s clock. How could she possibly know what time it had been when she saw the statue in the cellar? She leaned forward, looking up through the windshield for the moon. It was nearly overhead—just like in her dream.

  She deemed how their conversation would go. Ice would either try to talk her out of it or he’d ask her to wait for him. Jeni peered up at the moon again. There wasn’t time to wait.

  She set the phone on the console.

  After turning left on Highway 200, she watched for the east park entrance. Once past it, she slowed the car to a crawl, looking for the telltale road sign on the opposite side. Glancing in the rear view mirror, she noticed distant headlights. Maybe she should be relieved she wasn’t the only one out here, but she didn’t need someone asking questions, or noticing she was a girl, alone in the middle of the night.

  There! The sign. Passing by, she twisted in the seat to confirm it was a speed limit sign then carefully guided the car to a stop, as far off the road as possible. The approaching headlights grew larger.

  Jeni contemplated the dark forest across the road, frozen in fear. So much blackness against her one, small light. What was she doing? Wasn’t there someone more qualified for this task?

  She might have lost her nerve right then, but the oncoming car spurred her into action. If someone noticed her sitting here, they might stop. It would be better if the car looked abandoned.

  Jeni stuffed the car keys into her purse and zipped it shut. She swung the door open, blinked when the interior lights came on, then quickly hit the lock button and closed it, peering down the road. The other car was still a ways off. She hurried across the road.

  An overwhelming feeling of déjà-vu enveloped her as she clambered through the ditch to the edge of the woods; she half-expected to see the blue light. It appeared she was on her own though, so she stepped into the trees and clicked on her light.

  Jeni wasn’t sure which was worse, the gloom in which she could see the shadowed shapes around her, or the complete blackness surrounding the small island of light. Her heart chugged at breakneck speed like a train about to derail. She must be crazy to be out here.

  She paused for a moment to study her return path. The moon, nearly half-full, was enough to light the road and the speed limit sign. She pressed forward, almost panting. Forcing one foot in front of the other, Jeni visualized herself returning to the car with the statue in hand; imagined how it would feel to present the statue to Ice the next day.

  Relief washed over her when she emerged onto the blacktop road and realized it was probably the main park drive. She scurried across. The site shouldn’t be much further, and if she didn’t find the door, or the cellar, then the dream was just a dream.

  Flinching at every rustle of leaves, Jeni imagined eyes following her from beyond her ring of light. Rather than direct the beam toward the noises, she rushed forward, afraid of what she might reveal.

  Her light fell on an overgrown log. She lifted the small beam higher and saw more logs ahead.

  She was there. Stepping into the clearing, she moved her light from one log to another, recognizing that not only were they uniformly sized, but also strewn about in a rough rectangle. Included in the outline was a tall, dark structure. Closer inspection revealed a crumbling chimney built of stone.

  This must be the remains of a cabin. That’s why there was a cellar here.

  The triumph at finding a place she’d only seen in a dream was quickly overshadowed by the thought that everything she dreamed the first time might also be accurate. She was here to make sure that wouldn’t happen.

  Hurrying now, Jeni searched the ground for the trap door.

  It wasn’t hard to find. Leaves, sticks, and dirt were pushed into piles around the door—evidence that someone had recently unearthed the cellar
’s entrance.

  Jeni paused. She’d been running purely on emotion—afraid that if she thought too much about what she was doing she’d lose her nerve. As she studied the door, which had clearly been uncovered within the past few days, a little bit of reason crept through her gut reactions.

  Someone uncovered the cellar.

  Someone stole the statue.

  What if that someone was inside the cellar—right now?

  She certainly hadn’t been concerned with stealth as she approached. If someone was down there, they knew she was here. Jeni turned and shuffled away, making her retreat obvious. At the edge of the clearing, she clicked her light off and stepped behind a tree.

  Why didn’t she keep going? All the way to the car?

  She had to know, that’s why. If this place, the trap door, and the cellar all existed, wasn’t it possible the statue was in there? Besides, in her dream, no one had been inside the cellar.

  Jeni peeped around the tree and waited until she couldn’t take it anymore. She just wanted to get the statue and get out of there.

  She dropped her purse next to the trap door, grasped the ring, and pulled. The door lifted slightly, but it was heavy! In dreamland she’d thrown it open as if it weighed nothing.

  Setting her light down, Jeni put both hands on the ring and yanked with all her might. As the door came up, she leaned back and used her body weight to keep the momentum. Once it passed ninety degrees, she lost control and the door slammed open, knocking her on her butt.

  Jeni crawled to her light and snatched it up. She directed it into the cellar, getting on her feet and stepping away warily. It looked exactly as she’d dreamed. Nothing moved, no one jumped out, so she edged closer and aimed the beam into the corner where the statue would be.

  Puzzled, she got down on her hands and knees to shed more light on whatever was there.

  It wasn’t the statue; it looked like cloth. A small bundle of cloth.

  Disappointed, Jeni started to back away and stopped. Could the statue be wrapped in the cloth?

  Was she grasping at straws?

  She’d come this far.

  Inspecting the interior of the space with her light, Jeni didn’t see any kind of stairs or ladder. And without the benefit of the ethereal blue light, the hole in the earth was downright spooky. She rested the beam on the cloth, thinking.

  Adrenaline fueled; determined to finish her business and leave, Jeni got up and searched the ground. It didn’t take long to find what she sought, a long branch. She dragged it to the cellar, and lying down on her stomach, she held her light in one hand and the branch in the other.

  By stretching her arm out she could just touch the cloth. Wriggling forward until she hung slightly in the opening, she reached out again and caught the fabric on the end of the branch. She pulled sideways, attempting to lift the cloth, but it slipped off. She scooted slightly forward and tried again.

  When Jeni hooked the cloth this time, she gave it a yank, knocking herself off balance. One leg instinctively came up, shifting her body’s center of gravity forward. She teetered for a second with her arms waving wildly, but the recently upturned leaves were damp and slippery, and she slid, head first, into the cellar.

  ***

  Ice woke in confusion. He was on the couch, TV on low volume. Then he remembered. Unable to stop his mind from conjuring horrible scenarios—most where either Jeni or Nik ended up dead—he’d hoped the empty-headed bliss of television might give him some rest. Apparently it worked.

  But what woke him up?

  Music sounded, muffled and tinny. His phone. Where the heck was it? He was sure he’d set it right next to the pillow his head was on. Probing into the couch’s crevices, he finally located the device between the cushion and arm. The number was unfamiliar, but local. As he pushed the receive button Ice noticed he’d already missed a call.

  “H’lo?” he pushed the hair out of his eyes and peered at the clock on the DVD player.

  “Ice?” a gruff voice asked.

  “Yeah, this is Ice. Who’s this?”

  “Hanson Greenleaf. Glad you picked up. I’ve already tried Nik—a few times—with no luck. Then when you didn’t answer, I really got to worrying. Anyway, I know it’s late, but I’ve got something you and Nik need to know.”

  Hanson wasn’t a tribe elder, but he was a respected long-time member of the community. If he’d taken the effort to track down Ice—at this time of night—he had something important to say.

  “Nik had to spend the night in the hospital, that’s why you couldn’t get him,” Ice explained. “I’m picking him up in the morning though, what’s up?”

  “Robin can’t sleep most nights on account of her arthritis, so she sits up and watches TV with the police scanner on in the background. There’s been an accident at Lake Itasca.”

  Ice frowned. If Hanson’s wife heard it on the scanner, the man couldn’t possibly be talking about Kal’s dad. “What kind of accident?” Anxiety immediately woke in his chest, flexing its tendrils.

  “A girl disappeared.”

  The man’s words transformed Ice’s unease into alarm. He pressed his lips together and breathed deeply through his nose. No—the dreams he’d been having when the phone woke him up were freaking him out. He had no reason to think Jeni was out at Lake Itasca in the middle of the night.

  “You know they don’t go into much detail over the radio, but it sounds like there was a witness,” Hanson continued his account. “A boy who was with her swears something pulled her under water. After what happened this morning, I figured this couldn’t be coincidental.”

  That Hanson knew about Kal’s dad didn’t surprise Ice. They’d kept the news from the authorities, not the tribe. People needed to be wary. “Ah crap,” he sighed, dropping his shoulders and relaxing his grip on the phone. A girl and a guy. Not Jeni. “Thanks Hanson. I’ll let Nik know right away.”

  “Ayup. Watch yourself out there. He isn’t kidding around—he’s out for blood.”

  “I know.” Ice shuddered at the chill that crawled up his spine at Hanson’s words. The man was so careful about not speaking any of the monster’s names; Ice knew he was spooked. “I’ll be careful. Thanks again.”

  Drawing in a deep breath, Ice willed his pulse to return to normal. A couple—it’d been a couple, not just a girl. Suddenly the waning tendrils of anxiety sprang back to life and wrapped around his heart, squeezing hard. In his mind’s eye Ice saw Jeni climb into Tyler’s car. Ice had mistaken him for Jeni’s boyfriend.

  Tyler had also driven her to the hospital.

  Ice stood and shook his head as if to clear the conflicting thoughts racing through it. Good grief, he was paranoid! What he should be doing is trying to get a hold of Nik.

  He tried Nik’s number. As expected, the call went immediately to voice mail. Ice muttered a curse and went in his bedroom to boot up his computer.

  The hospital’s automated switchboard let him enter Nik’s room number, but the call went unanswered. The phones may be silenced at night, or perhaps the volume was so low Nik didn’t hear it.

  The only way to deliver the news to Nik was to go to the hospital in person—something he’d planned to do in a few hours anyway. There was no point in rushing off, Ice reasoned. As long as the authorities were on the scene, his and Nik’s hands were tied. He swiveled in his chair to face the bed and gazed at it despairingly, knowing he’d simply lie there and imagine horrible scenarios. Instead, he headed for the shower, wondering how to talk his way past the hospital lobby attendant.

  There is a road in the hearts of all of us,

  hidden and seldom traveled,

  which leads to an unknown, secret place.

  —Chief Luther Standing Bear, Lakota

  Chapter 10

  Jeni landed hard, on her back. The painful jolt spread from her core to her limbs, and a crushing weight
deflated her lungs. She opened her mouth to inhale, but her chest didn’t want to expand. She gasped for breath, panic pushing aside reason.

  Oh God, she’d broken her spine and was going to die here in this dark hole!

  Her gasps and wheezes became more frantic and her vision grew fuzzy at the edges. The awful sounds she made sounded strangely familiar though she knew she’d never made them before. As she struggled for breath, the memory surfaced.

  Video—it was a video on YouTube her dad made her watch. A woman stomping grapes slipped and fell on her back. She’d had the wind knocked out of her and sounded just like Jeni did now.

  Pushing the panic away, Jeni took little shallow breaths. She twisted her body slightly and convinced herself that her spine wasn’t broken. With each inhalation she brought in a bit more air. Her head cleared and she pushed herself up to her elbows, finally able to breathe through her nose.

  Her face wrinkled at the conflicting smells. The musty stench of decay was at odds with the scent of fresh dirt and a smoky, sulfurous odor.

  Though she wanted to scramble out of the dark, dank chamber, she forced herself to stay still and breathe for a few more minutes. Her light had landed nearby and was on, but the surrounding blackness pressed in on the small island of light, trying to shrink it into oblivion. Unable to endure it any longer, Jeni crawled to her light and flashed it around the cellar.

  The space was maybe eight foot square. She trained the light on a tunnel dug into a sidewall. It looked as though it had caved in. The site provided a reason for the smell of fresh dirt and confirmed what she’d determined earlier—someone had been here recently. Jeni shuddered.

  A shovel, tarp, and rope lay near the tunnel as well as a few empty plastic bottles and food wrappers. An old stove or furnace occupied the far wall. In the corner nearby lay the cloth that got her into this predicament in the first place.

  The statue had better be in it.