Winter Prey

by T. M. Simmons

  The man's face had been turned away, although Caleb had no trouble seeing most of it from where he stood near the bottom of the steps. He hadn't been able to discern the man's eyes. Matted hair was slicked against the back of the man's head. He'd worn his hair in a braid, but straggles had pulled loose from the binding.

  The back of his head…?

  Before he could grasp the implication, the microwave beeped three times and Kymbria opened the oven's door. The sound and her movements pulled him out of his thoughts, and he didn't try to retrieve them. He'd had all he could take right now.

  As she set two cups of hot chocolate smothered in marshmallows on the table, headlights pierced the kitchen windows and a diesel engine sounded outside as a vehicle pulled in the driveway. The setter loped into the kitchen, evidently recovered from her own trauma. She took up a stance at the door, body tense and a faint growl in her throat.

  Instead of sitting down with her cocoa, Kymbria pushed aside the red and white checkered curtain on the window.

  "Hjak," she said, confirming Caleb's own assumption.

  The engine noise died, and a moment later, Kymbria opened the door. The sheriff greeted the dog first.

  "Hi, there, sport," he said, holding out his hand to her. Scarlet sniffed, then moved out of the doorway.

  Hjak's sharp gaze took in the kitchen and its occupants. "You said there's a dead man on the lake," he directed at Caleb.

  "I said a body, part of one," Caleb affirmed. "And yeah, he's dead. Thankfully. It — " He glanced at Kymbria to gauge her steadiness as he continued, "It looks like a windigo kill. Or how I imagine one would look."

  "You said you heard something howl on the lake before you went down there. Could it have been wolves?"

  "No," he and Kymbria said at the same time.

  Caleb explained, "What's lying down there wasn't killed by wolves. I'm also fairly certain it was carried in here, killed elsewhere."

  Hjak nodded and touched Kymbria's arm. "Are you all right?"

  "No," she told him without further detail. "And I can also confirm it wasn't wolves down there on the lake. It was the same thing that was outside the sweat lodge tonight. The same thing Keoman and I heard. Whatever it is."

  "I believe you both," Hjak said with a sigh.

  "I'm fixing hot chocolate," she said to shift the subject. "Can I fix you some?"

  "Yeah, after I get back from the lake," the sheriff said. "You want to come with me, McCoy?"

  "Not really," Caleb admitted. "But I will, if Kymbria doesn't mind being alone here."

  "Go," she said, hand touching her spirit bundle then falling to her side. "We'll both talk to the sheriff when you get back."

  As he rose, leaving his hot chocolate untouched on the table, he noticed that Hjak carried an oversized briefcase in his hand. When the sheriff saw him looking at it, he said, "Crime scene tools. Probably won't do me much good, but I've got tape to at least preserve the scene."

  "You'll need ice pinions."

  "Got 'em."

  With one last glance at Kymbria, who nodded assurance, he and Hjak walked toward the front of the cabin.

  "You didn't bring a deputy with you?" Caleb asked.

  Hjak hesitated, then said, "I was lucky that you caught me at the station and I answered the phone while the dispatcher was in the bathroom. I decided I'd check things out first, then…."

  "Then figure out who you wanted to know about this?" Caleb prodded as they went out the door. He closed it firmly behind him, and followed Hjak down the path. The sheriff didn't bother to answer.

  Hjak paused at the head of the stairs. "The vic's not visible from here?"

  "You have to go down there where the stairs dogleg."

  Hjak strode down the steps and halted at the spot where they branched, Caleb following more slowly. Before Caleb joined him, the sheriff continued on. Caleb forced himself on past the branch, but paused on the third step after that. He could see from here, and had even walked down a few steps further earlier. Now, unless Hjak asked for him, he would wait.

  Hjak silently studied the skeleton with the head attached for a long while. Then he snugged his gloves tighter on his hands, laid the evidence case on a convenient rock and opened it. Caleb presumed he would first take out his crime scene tape. Instead, Hjak removed a spirit bundle similar to the one Kymbria wore and hung it around his neck before he retrieved the yellow tape with DO NOT CROSS repeated on it.

  Next he took out a small hammer and some ice pinions. Keeping a good distance away from the body, he also studied the ground as he slowly hammered the first pinion in the ice and tied the end of the yellow tape to it.

  "No need to get close enough to see if there's any help for him," Caleb heard him say in that black humor law enforcement used to distance themselves from particularly vicious scenes.

  Hjak moved on and placed more ice pinions, wove tape around them, until he had a complete circle. Finally, he stepped over the tape and approached the body. He knelt by the head and gently nudged aside some of the hair. When he pulled his hand back, he examined his gloved fingers. Finally, he stood and carefully retraced his steps backward. Using the path he'd already walked, he returned to his briefcase, closed it, and headed back up the steps.

  Caleb turned to lead the way, but stopped when Hjak said, "Wait a sec, McCoy."

  Caleb faced him with a raised eyebrow. "You want to question Kymbria and me separately?"

  "No," Hjak denied. "I just wanted to tell you that I know who the man is…was. There's some skin left on his forehead, a scar there I recognize. He's been dead a while, too." He chuckled wryly. "As if we couldn't tell that by there being no meat on his bones. The blood in his hair is dried and caked. Flaky. How steady is Kymbria?"

  "Not," Caleb said succinctly. "Why? Who is it?"

  "Someone Kymbria knows. The Ojibway man lots of cabin owners use for maintenance. Len Skinaway."

  "The missing man? He's been gone…what? Two or three days?"

  "If he was killed about the same time he went missing," Hjak agreed. "How'd you hear about him?"

  "Keoman called Kymbria earlier. Asked if she'd seen him."

  Hjak gnawed his bottom lip as though in thought. The security light on the bank bathed them both with enough light that Caleb could interpret the sheriff's expression and the icy blueness of contemplation in his eyes.

  "What?" he asked after Hjak had been quiet for several moments.

  Hjak shrugged. "It's cold out here. Let's go inside."

  As they climbed the rest of the stairs, Hjak asked, "You and Kymbria trying to shoot this thing?"

  Caleb glanced over his shoulder, realizing the sheriff had noted the two shotguns on the floor of the cabin. "It's cold," he repeated. "Let's get inside and build up the fire."

  Chapter 16

  Caleb and Hjak re-entered the cabin, but Kymbria didn't bother to look up from her cooling cup of chocolate. She heard Caleb remove the fire screen and add a couple logs to the fire while Hjak slowly walked into the kitchen where she waited. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the sheriff glance at the two shotguns she'd carried in and placed on the table. They lay beside the hot chocolate cups she'd re-warmed for the men. Though fearful of what Hjak had to tell her, given the man's obvious reluctance to speak, she managed to maintain a measure of self-control. She would be out of here in a few hours. She could cope for that long.

  "Do you know who it is?" she quietly asked Hjak as he removed his gloves and washed his hands at the kitchen sink.

  "Yeah." He dried his hands on a towel hanging beneath the window. "I'll take the guns in by the fire, if you'll carry my cocoa."

  She rose with a nod. Leaving her cold, congealed cup on the table, she joined Caleb, who was closing the fire screen. Scarlet followed close behind her, settling on the floor in front of Kymbria as she and Caleb sat on the sofa. Kymbria handed Caleb one cup and set the other one on the coffee table for Hjak.

  The sheriff propped the shotguns against the coffee table, bu
t didn't reach for his cup. "The windigo didn't kill him," he said without preamble. "Someone shot him first."

  Caleb flinched, an expression of both puzzlement and interest on his face.

  "Who is he?" Kymbria asked again.

  Caleb moved closer to her and slipped an arm around her shoulders as dread edged up her throat. "It's someone I know, isn't it?" she asked when Hjak remained silent.

  Caleb tightened his grip, and when she glanced at him, he said, "It's Len. The missing man Keoman called about."

  Sorrow filled her at the loss of a man her parents had befriended as much as counted on. She allowed the emotion only so far, though. She'd come to terms with a few things while she waited for Caleb and Hjak to return. This beast was not only scaring her, but Scarlet as well, and it was starting to piss her off. She'd latched onto the anger, determined to ride it rather than the pathetic fear.

  Despite Caleb and Hjak's concern, her mental clarity was focused now, and she reminded herself that she'd seen death up close and personal before. She wasn't going to let this monster continue to terrorize her. And it damned sure wasn't going to get away with controlling her mind.

  Then she frowned. "But…." She stared at Hjak. "Keoman said Len's been missing for three days. And…" She paused as she recalled the tribal custom of not speaking the name of the dead until they were sure the soul had crossed into the world where ancestors dwelled. Then she firmed her voice. "A while ago, Caleb said the man had been…eaten. The windigo's only been on the hunt for a day."

  "For a day that we know of," Hjak said as he reached for his cocoa. "Things aren't fitting into this scenario." He scooped a glob of marshmallows to his mouth.

  "Don't you need to call some more people in?" Caleb asked.

  Recalling Caleb's caution they would soon be talking to a number of people, Kymbria started to explain why that might not happen. She was cut short when Scarlet suddenly rose with a growl, her gaze toward the lake. But instead of rushing for the window, she lunged onto the sofa beside Kymbria. A cold chill of goose bumps feathered up Kymbria's spine as she grabbed Scarlet close.

  "It's back!" she snarled, her anger rising again to defeat the fear.

  Caleb already had one of the shotguns in his hand. He thrust the other one at her, and he and Hjak raced to the front windows. Kymbria steeled herself for another mind intrusion, but the atmosphere around her and Scarlet only darkened for a brief instant, then it was like nothing at all was wrong.

  "It's gone again," she called to the men.

  "Damn!" Caleb spat. "What the hell's it doing?"

  "Bring that damn gun and come with me," Hjak ordered. "Leave the other one here for Kymbria."

  He and Caleb rushed out the door and, shotgun poised for use, Kymbria led Scarlet over to the windows in time to get a glimpse of the men disappearing down the steps to the lake. They were only gone for a minute or so before both trod back into sight.

  Once they were inside, shivering, since neither had grabbed a coat in their rush, Hjak joined Kymbria at the window.

  "It took the body back," the sheriff gritted. "It's gone. There's just a circle of crime scene tape on the lake, nothing inside it."

  "Why?" she asked. "And how could it? That fast, I mean? It was here for barely ten seconds."

  Caleb answered, "It could. And did. I told you, windigos can move so fast it's hard to see them. It's fed and its powers are on the rise after forty years of hibernation. It can easily be in and out of here before we notice."

  "I noticed." Even her anger couldn't halt the slight shiver that crawled over her. "I felt it."

  Hjak motioned for them to join him back at the fire. "We need to talk."

  "Shouldn't you get something going?" Caleb asked. "Call in the feds? Don't they handle things like this on reservations?"

  "On some reservations," Hjak replied. "Not this one. It's complicated sometimes."

  "Didn't your research include our brand of governing for this tribe?" Kymbria asked.

  "I did some research on that. I wanted to know if there'd be a bunch of law enforcement types here if…when that thing started hunting again. At that time, of course, I thought it would be January before we'd have to worry about that. Still, I didn't take time to separate the specific tribes and how they worked as far as law enforcement."

  "Some of the reservations still depend on the feds for support," Hjak explained. "Some have their own tribal police departments. Up here, we're pretty isolated, and it's sparsely populated, especially as to the Native American population. Kymbria's tribe never set up a tribal police force. They depend on me and my county deputies. Maybe they will organize their own law enforcement someday, with the casino income growing, but for now, we're it."

  "They can do that?" Caleb asked. "Not allow the feds, or BIA, or whoever, any part in their law enforcement?"

  "To a point." Hjak leaned forward, wrists on his knees. "They can't refuse those offices access, though, if they should decide it's something they need to be in on. We've also got the option of calling in whoever we want for help — state troopers or the feds. But right now, we'd be laughed at. We don't have a body. What are we gonna tell them? We need someone from X-Files here?" He shook his head. "It was probably the same thing forty years ago. From talking to the Elders, I found out they'd never had a body to confirm the kills. All they had were some missing people, no proof of what happened to them, if anything. Only a legend, and that's not proof."

  “But they knew,” Caleb said.

  “They knew,” Hjak confirmed.

  "So we're on our own?"

  Kymbria said, "You've got Keoman and the Elders. I'm still out of here come morning."

  "Good idea," Hjak said. "Why don't you start getting your things together? Then maybe you can catch a few hours sleep. If it's all right with you, Caleb and I will stay here for the rest of the night. Maybe even try to contact Keoman and get him here."

  Kymbria rose and called Scarlet with her. "I'll be in the bedroom. If I shut my door, that means I'm trying to get some sleep."

  She left the door open at first. The room she had chosen was her old room, off the living room and in line with the fireplace. Numerous questions crowded her mind, and the only reason she didn't voice them and demand answers was, she frankly did not want to become involved any deeper in this situation. However, she found herself working as quietly as she could while she packed a suitcase with the things she'd so recently removed, her attention on the low-voiced conversation between the men.

  "Where the hell do we start?" Caleb asked. "Call Keoman?"

  "Yeah, do that," Hjak said as he unsnapped one of the multitude of equipment pouches on his heavy leather belt and pulled out a small radio. "I'm going to report in to the office by radio because…well, I just don't want them to know exactly where I am right now. I'll let them know I didn't go home, though, and that they can call me on the radio if they need me."

  "You don't want word of this getting out yet," Caleb said in a flat tone.

  The sheriff didn't answer.

  As Kymbria folded blue jeans into her suitcase, Caleb murmured something indiscernible. Probably talking to Keoman on the phone. A moment later, as she added the last of her underwear to the suitcase, Caleb called to Hjak, "I got his damn voice mail again. All I said was to get back to me as soon as he could. That we had news about the windigo."

  "If he's with the Elders," Hjak said, "that might be a while."

  Kymbria closed her suitcase and glanced out the bedroom door. Caleb and Hjak again sat in front of the fire, but neither of them spoke. She took a step toward the men. Then she shook her head and turned back. She walked around the room to see if there was anything she'd missed. She gathered her personal items from the bathroom. A few minutes later, she had her suitcase, laptop and small toiletries case sitting by the bedroom door. She'd left out only a change of clothing and her nightgown and robe.

  "I'm going to take a shower before I turn in," she called. Caleb responded with a wave of his hand as he
and Hjak stared into the fire.

  First, though, she needed to take care of a splinter in her finger, which she'd noticed after handling the shotgun's ragged stock. She retrieved a set of tweezers from the bathroom and sat on the bed. The tiny sliver had worked its way deep, and she couldn't reach the end of it. The heck with it. Maybe the shower water would soften the skin and make digging it out easier.

  She had her nightgown in her hand to carry into the bathroom before she stopped resisting the urge. Tossing the gown on the bed, she strode back to the men and propped her hands on her hips as she stared at Hjak. "Windigos don't shoot people."

  She could actually feel Caleb's gaze on her, but the sheriff only leaned back in his chair and looped his thumbs in his black equipment belt.

  "He was shot in the back of the head. Execution style."

  "But how did the windigo end up with him? It wasn't hunting three days ago when he disappeared!"

  "Like I said earlier, we aren't sure of that. If it's true, though, then that's one of the things that doesn't fit what we know has happened before."

  Kymbria backed up until her legs hit the sofa behind her, then sat. "The windigo left his head so we'd know it didn't kill him."

  Caleb snorted and leaned toward her. "You're giving this thing a brain. A human brain, one that can think. It doesn't have that sort of ability."

  "You're wrong, Caleb. There's no other explanation. And you're forgetting windigos were once human."

  "Humans have a conscience," he spat. "They don't kill without feeling."

  "Not all of them," Hjak put in. "Sociopaths missed out on the conscience gene when they were conceived. They're born without one."

  "So we've got a sociopath monster?" Caleb asked.

  "Hell if I know," Hjak admitted. "We never found a body before, so we can't say it's a fact that none of them were shot before they were…eaten."

  Caleb glared between Kymbria and Hjak, then settled on the sheriff. "Let's cut to the chase. You've got no idea how this thing works. No idea how it eats its prey. Consumes it. Maybe it leaves the head until last. Maybe it wants to savor the terror in its dead victims’ eyes a while."