Dark Project
Page 21
“You haven’t seen him in a year, and he could’ve changed. Living in the Canadian bush might have given him a laid-back approach to life.”
Sable took a deep breath, then leaned against the car. He looked out past the lake to the road, searching each speck in the distance, hoping it was either Bill or Jon.
“Not them,” he said as a car rocketed past.
“Get in the car and relax. Besides it’s warmer in here.”
“Nah, I have something to do. Wait in the car for a minute,” he said.
Overhead, ravens circled, maintaining a constant vigil. They chattered and their calls seemed a warning of some hidden danger as a silent, shadowy figure moved through the trees. He’d stop, listen for danger and move forward, keeping within the trees. Each step was purposeful, methodical, and calculated not to break even the smallest twig. Occasionally stopping, he strained to hear the conversation and then quickly surveyed the surrounding area.
Amy’s eyes narrowed. “And leave me alone?”
“It won’t take long—maybe a couple of minutes. Let’s say it’s the call of nature.”
Sable walked to the trees and stopped. Within the trees Sable met a tall scruffy man with an unruly thatch of white hair. They smiled and embraced each other.
“Long time no see, brother.”
“How’s it hanging?” the man asked.
“You never change, do you? You still going by Patrick Rogers?”
The white-haired man smiled and nodded. “But now I’m called Whitey Rogers.”
Sable heard the crunch of gravel and looked out from the trees. A nondescript blue Chevy pulled into the campground and the driver slammed on the brakes. The car’s engine chattered, coughed, wheezed and died.
“Our guests must be arriving. Stay here. I wouldn’t want you to come out too soon.”
“I can’t wait to see the shocked look on all their faces,” Whitey said and chuckled.
Sable met Bill and Lee as they stepped from the car, embracing each separately. “Damn, it’s good to see you.”
“Juk’ ē-é-tsu-ri-tāt—Good morning. Uásse-i-tú-eti—How is your heart?” Bill asked.
“Ka-denchro-denik,chetsinach tuu chrat—My heart is strong. You wŏétsch x’a-di-taan lingit—speak Tlingit.”
“You’ll have to blame Lee.” He held up his fore finger and thumb and measured out an inch. “I speak a little. Apparently the virus didn’t help me in the intelligence department.”
“He’ll learn it if I have to beat it into him.” Lee chuckled and punched Bill lightly on the shoulder.
“Looks like married life is treating you well.”
“Careful how you answer,” Lee said.
“Married life is great. She told me to say that,” Bill said. Lee quickly punched Bill in the arm again.
Sable gave him a thumb’s up. “Jon and Becky should be here soon.”
Bill paused momentarily and looked at the ground. He said, “I wished Red could’ve been with us.”
“Tschaltakat chlingit kóg-kana—All human beings must die,” Lee said. “Some of us sooner than later.”
“Unfortunately it’s the case for us. But then again some live, die, then live again.”
“Oh, you mean us.” Bill folded his arms. “I’m not sure how long it’ll be.”
There was a momentary silence.
“Now, I know you have lost it.”
“Don’t move,” Whitey said harshly, his voice sounding like ice grinding on granite. “Put your hands up and have the lady get out of the car slowly.”
“I know that voice. Red, it’s you!” Bill exclaimed.
“You heard what I said. Hands up.”
“Stop kidding around, for Christ’s sake.”
Sable raised his hands and tried to look serious. “I think you better do what the man says.”
Whitey stepped from the shadows and laughed. “Gotcha. And the name’s Patrick ‘Whitey’ Rogers.”
“You asshole.” Bill and Red moved toward each other and hugged.
“How can you be alive?” Bill asked. “We heard you died.”
“The virus saved my life. Sable did the rest.”
“Damn, and I thought I got rid of you for good.” Amy laughed as she stepped from the car.
“Ouch. That really hurt.” Whitey raised his hands in mock surrender. “And deservedly so, but now I’m a changed man. I even got hitched. My lovely new bride, Ann, will try to make it next time.”
“You, change? Never,” Amy said.
Bill became serious. “You weren’t followed?”
“I’m a cop,” Sable said.
“Point taken.”
“Let’s get out of this cool breeze.” Sable started moving toward the Taurus. Within a couple of minutes, they had all crowed into the car.
“Are we safe from the FBI, DIS and any group I’ve forgotten to mention?” Bill asked.
“Well, I told them you were dead and Dean destroyed your bodies in the crematorium. Captain Maroak took care of all your records the day his men took over Fort Greely. I had a hacker friend remove your records from the government databases. However, I can’t guarantee there might be some paper records hidden in a remote office. Maroak’s men leveled Arctic Warrior, destroying all the project’s computers. Dean’s dream was a mass of rubble. Maroak figures if DoD tried to resurrect the project, it’d take twenty years to dig it up. Also, no one has tried to find you guys. DoD has bigger problems, like answering embarrassing questions over attacking Alaskan Indian villages, than to be concerned over a couple of wayward chemists.”
“The records at the hospital?” Lee squirmed in the crowded back seat to get comfortable.
“Gone. I took care of them.”
“But a week’s worth of records?”
“Your history has been wiped from the hospital’s mainframe and I shredded and burned all the paper records I could find. And since the SECDEF resigned, everything’s been pretty quiet.”
“But Kanashig. Will they be okay?” Lee asked.
“The governor has told the new SECDEF if he tries anything funny, he’ll activate the state National Guard and militia and put a stop to any Army hanky-panky.” Sable looked over his shoulder at the sound of wheels crunching on gravel.
“Deservedly so.” The corners of Bill’s mouth turned up slightly.
“Here’s Jon and Becky,” Lee said.
“How’s life in the wilderness?” Amy asked.
“Boring. Bill and I got so bored half way through the winter we packed out from our cabin and moved to Dawson.”
“How’d you do that?”
“Dogsled, of course. The only problem is I have to keep dragging Bill out of the casino.”
“Losing your hard-earned money?”
“No, he wins too much and draws too much attention.”
Amy chuckled.
As Jon and Becky’s car pulled next to them, Bill suggested, “Let’s get dinner.”
In the trees, happy ravens chattered, chuckled, and playfully fought back and forth.
“Can’t those birds stop making such a racket?” Amy asked playfully. “They’re interrupting the conversation.”
“Don’t talk about the ravens. Some of them could be my relatives—Raven Clan, remember?” Sable thudded his chest with his index finger.
“I thought you were Bear Clan,” Amy said. “The way you get so grouchy.”
“That too,” Sable said. “My great, great grandmother was Bear Clan and lived in Dawson—”
Jon tapped on the window. Sable paused and looked over his shoulder. “Enough of the history lesson. Now we’re all here. Dinner?”
Sable opened the door, stepped out and greeted Jon.
“It’s a good sign. Yéil shàanax kàa-nax kalyíchx’—the ravens are flying across the valley.” Jon nodded toward the ravens taking flight. He clutched Sable’s arm in a traditional handshake and greeting.
Sable pointed to the rift in the clouds where a brilliant yellow sun peeked thr
ough, throwing a welcome curtain of light on the campground.
“Seigánin kei kukwgak’éi shakdéi—Maybe it’ll be fine weather tomorrow.”
About the Author
A longtime Alaska resident with a Native American-Finnish heritage, Sean E. Thomas—award winning novelist—graduated in 1970 from Alaska Methodist University with a bachelor of arts in chemistry. He attended graduate school at the University of Idaho for two years studying organic chemistry, then served eight years as an Army officer, working with missiles and laser weapon systems. He later went into federal service, working in different endeavors, and retired in 2006. He published four novels between 2002 and 2003. These will be out in electronic novels in 2013 and 2014. After recovering from congestive heart failure, he started writing again. His six new novels were published fall 2011 through June 2013. An avid boater, he has been a Coast Guard Auxiliary volunteer for more than thirty-seven years, teaching boating safety and supporting search and rescue programs.
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