by Sylvia Nobel
26
I declared myself officially over the edge. Tearing along the rough dirt road towards Wolf’s Head, my rambunctious heartbeat clattering in my ears, I was so wired my adrenalin levels must have been off the charts. Oh, boy. In addition to all my other transgressions these past five days, I was now officially a car thief. “O’Dell, you’re in deep guano now,” I murmured, acutely aware that I really didn’t have the slightest idea what I was going to do when I finally got there. I glanced at the clock. Seven-thirty-five. The intelligent, less risky decision would have been to wait for Tally’s return. But that might be too late. As it stood, the trafficking operation might already be underway. Or had I missed it?
Like most people fixated on a particular objective, no matter how skewered the thinking, I’d convinced myself that if I followed Felix’s directions exactly, kept out of sight and didn’t try any heroics, I just might accomplish my goal and be back to the ranch before Tally returned from his wild goose chase. I had to hand it to those guys. The phony call to Twyla was fairly brilliant, serving to distract Tally and remove my means of transportation. But they didn’t know me.
I reached the cutoff within twenty minutes. Instead of turning left into Morita, I kept going, following the road around the west end of Wolf’s Head as Froggy had done. Back-dropped against brilliant starlight, the jagged pillars of stone arched ominously towards the sky like gnarled black fingers. Spooky, definitely spooky. Russell Greene’s warning to stay away was a sobering reminder of what might await me. With the initial rush of euphoria subsiding, the gravity of my hasty decision sank in. This was insane. There was still time to turn around. Second-guessing myself, I eased up on the accelerator and coasted until the memory of Javier’s frightened eyes popped into my head. Was there even an outside chance I could somehow save that little boy? I had no choice but to try. I jammed my foot on the gas and raced ahead until I reached the fork in the road. Swerving left, I plunged between steep canyon walls where even starlight could not penetrate the gloomy interior. It was almost like driving inside a tunnel and it was a struggle to keep my claustrophobia at bay. Thankfully, the sky suddenly reappeared to my right as the cliff diminished in height and slowly angled away to the west, leaving a trail of weirdly shaped boulders in its wake. Vaguely, I wondered if the puny flashlight I’d pulled from the glove compartment would be enough to light my way. What if I got lost? Impatiently, I pushed the thought to the back of my mind and kept driving until the ground cover became so thick it was hard to navigate as I searched for the first landmark Felix had mentioned. And then, there it was. Ahead and to the right, I caught a glimpse of the old wooden gate he’d described. I braked, cut the lights and slipped on my jacket as I slid from the cab. It took me several seconds of feeling around in the dark until I found the section of wire looped over the post. I swung the gate open, dashed back to the truck, drove through, and then ran back to re-latch the gate behind me.
After that, the road narrowed even further, finally deteriorating into nothing more than an overgrown trail. The compass on the rearview mirror indicated that I had completed almost a full circle around Wolf’s Head and was now nearing the southern tip of the rock promontory that bore its name. If I was calculating correctly, Morita lay directly east of me. Okay, time to ditch the truck. With only the parking lights to guide me, I drove off the shoulder into tall range grass, coming to a stop in a thick grove of mesquite trees. No doubt the sharp spidery branches had done a number on Champ’s paint job. Something else I’d have to deal with later.
Using the flashlight, I reviewed Felix’s directions once more. As he’d described it to me, for generations thousands of Mexican migrants had followed a well-worn path north, crossed a wide arroyo and then entered the United States through a narrow canyon flanking a particular rock that he’d described as looking like a giant Indian teepee crowned with a hole that resembled a crescent moon. Since I was already north of the arroyo, all I had to do was walk east until I found it. He’d said it was only a mile from the wooden gate and I’d come just about that far already.
Time to go. A fiery tide of excitement washed over me as I stepped into the brisk night air, zipped my jacket to my chin and then paused to get my bearings before I set off on foot, staying low. It was deathly quiet except for an occasional skitter of some small animal scampering through the unusually tall grass. There had to be a lot of water around someplace in order to produce such a spectacular display of flora and fauna. And I could certainly understand why immigrants would choose this secluded spot as a preferred crossing place. Tucked away behind the massive spires, attainable only on foot or by off-road vehicles, the jumbled piles of boulders and lush foliage created an ideal natural barrier which provided excellent protection against the inquisitive eyes of Border Patrol agents.
I was amazed at how quickly my sight adapted to the murky landscape and how luminescent it looked even minus a full moon. The nocturnal beauty of the rough terrain struck me as almost otherworldly and resurrected thoughts of alien creatures from another galaxy. They might actually feel right at home here in this secluded dell.
The night sky was breathtaking. Amid radiant stars that seemed close enough to reach up and touch, the Milky Way glowed like a glittering river of diamonds. It was actually easier to see without the flashlight, so I switched it off. Probably safer for me too, since a beam of light out here would be spotted a mile away.
Unlike most of my childhood girlfriends and even my younger brother, I’d never feared the dark. In fact, I relished the freedom of being part of it, darting in and out through the underbrush, resurrecting the familiar thrill of playing hide and seek in the dense forest behind our house, waiting with wild heart-thumping anticipation to be discovered. Grimly, I reminded myself that this was no game.
It took less than ten minutes to locate the ancient landmark. Awestruck, I stared up at the wind-eroded fissure near the summit. It did indeed look like a crescent moon. To my advantage, there was no shortage of hiding places. I tested several possibilities, secreting myself beneath rock ledges, inside deep crevices and I even climbed a few to get a better vantage point. Finally, I settled into a cluster of boulders offering a clear view of both the teepee and the jagged fangs of Wolf’s Head to my left. With the familiar cold burn of excitement in my belly, I crouched in the shadows waiting. Time crawled by and soon I wasn’t sure what I feared most—something actually happening or nothing at all happening.
Another fifteen minutes passed. Then another ten. Still nothing happened. Somewhere an owl screeched. More rustling in the brush, but no signs or sounds of any humans, or extraterrestrials for that matter. The temperature was dropping rapidly, so I pulled up the collar on my jacket and blew on my fingers. Gradually, disappointment replaced my heady expectations. Crap. How could I have been wrong? I winced aloud, thinking of the ridicule I’d have to endure. ‘What’s that? You froze your ass off crouching under a rock out in the middle of the Arizona desert waiting to witness an extraterrestrial abduction? Priceless!’ Tally would be more than bent out of shape and probably never forgive me. The Beaumonts were going to be royally pissed off that I’d appropriated Champ’s truck. How was I going to explain what would appear to be totally irrational behavior? No doubt I was going to look like the biggest dufus on the planet.
I stayed a little longer and then, with a sigh of resignation, I wriggled from my hiding place and stood up. I’d taken only two steps when I froze in my tracks. Crunch. Crunch. Craning my head, I listened closely. Crunch, whoosh, whoosh. Was I mistaken, or was that the sound of stealthy footsteps whispering through the nearby brush? I ducked back in my hiding place, folding my body into the shadows as the footsteps grew louder. Hardly daring to breathe, I cautioned myself to stay calm, stay quiet. I clapped my hand over my mouth, taking in shallow gulps of air. It seemed to take forever, but the crunching finally grew fainter as whoever or whatever it was moved on. My mind swam with possibilities. It may have been as innocent as an anim
al passing through, an immigrant stealing by, or maybe, just maybe I was right, and these guys were on the move.
I sat motionless, my muscles aching, until sure enough, I heard more movement in the brush, then the soft thud of more footsteps rushing past. Being careful not to make a sound, I peeked over the rock ledge and squinted into the darkness. Nothing appeared to be different and then all at once a series of strange noises reached my ears. Scuffling, then what sounded like shouts of protest, more scuffling, and then silence again. My pulse shot higher. Something was definitely happening.
Even though I’d been half expecting it, when a shaft of bright blue light flashed on, lighting the clearing, I flinched violently and turned to stare in the direction of Wolf’s Head. Close to one of the giant rock pillars, perhaps thirty or forty feet from the ground, hovered what appeared to be a whirling disk of rainbow colored lights.
“Holy shit.” Mesmerized, I gaped at the pulsing light, which seemed to emanate from the UFO. All at once, a babble of frightened voices filled the air. Clearly visible in the grassy clearing was a small group of men and women huddling in a tight circle, shielding their eyes from the intrusive blaze. Amazing. I’d neither seen nor heard their stealthy arrival to U.S. soil. Then, seemingly from out of nowhere, a frightening creature with an elongated head and bug-like features, just as Javier had described, materialized and jumped down from one of the nearby boulders. The terrified screams of the immigrants turned my spine into an icicle. One woman carrying a baby bolted from the group, but she didn’t get far before another bug-eyed creature, brandishing some sort of weapon I couldn’t identify, pushed her back. The terror-stricken people were herded like cattle up an embankment towards the flying disk, which appeared to have landed at the base of the cliff. For another minute or so, their bone-chilling screams echoed down the canyon walls, but then inexplicably, they grew fainter and fainter until I couldn’t hear them at all. Then I heard something else—an odd rumbling noise that lasted for only a few seconds. The blue light blinked out, the disk rose into the air, humming, rotating faster and faster until it shot over the top of the mountain and disappeared from sight. Like someone shutting off a power grid, the valley was enveloped in silent darkness again. And the immigrants had vanished before my eyes.
27
The whole thing happened so fast all I could do was stand there, paralyzed in horrified amazement, questioning my own eyesight and my sanity. Had I really seen what I thought I’d seen? Either I’d just witnessed an honest-to- goodness UFO abduction, or the slickest piece of showmanship I’d ever seen in my life. I chose to believe the latter. It was unsettling to realize that there must be many more people involved than I’d originally thought in order to accomplish such a masterful deception. And, unless I was ready to believe that the immigrants had actually been spirited aboard the ‘flying saucer,’ then they had to be around here somewhere. An important fact jumped to mind. The original name of this place was Cave Springs. Hadn’t Walter told me that numerous caves and natural springs abounded within the labyrinth of rocks?
I waited, shivering with cold and anxiety, for eternally long minutes, before concluding that it was time to get my butt in gear. I’d accomplished my goal, verified my supposedly harebrained-theory, and now all I had to do was convince someone, anyone, that I hadn’t imagined the entire episode. I took off running like a startled deer, turning every now and then to peer over my shoulder. Short of breath, my heart pounding like an out of control jackhammer, I scrambled into Champ’s truck and locked the doors behind me. My hands shook so badly, I had a devil of a time inserting the ignition key. Hurry! Hurry! I threw the truck in reverse and peeled out. In no time, the gate loomed before me. In the split second before I decided to just crash on through it, I saw a glint out of the corner of my eye. The peripheral glow of the headlights illuminated something off to my left in the trees. I slowed down enough to take a closer look and went numb with shock. It was Tally’s truck! “Oh, my God!” I shrieked, jamming on the brakes. “No! No! No!” For several seconds, my brain cells ceased to function. All I could do was gape in horror, and then my mind did a quick replay. The scuffling sound—the one I’d heard right before the strange lights appeared, could that have been Tally struggling with his captors? How else to explain that he wasn’t here? But how could he have possibly known where to find me? Oh, no. He must have raced right back to the ranch after discovering he’d been tricked and found me missing. Obviously, he’d cornered Felix for directions and then come looking for me. A sob caught in my throat. Because of me, my sweet, darling guy had probably walked right into the middle of their trap. So that meant…? I didn’t dare finish the thought. There were only two options—race back to the ranch for help or try to find him myself. No choice there. I sprang from the cab, hoping against hope that Tally had left his truck unlocked. He hadn’t. “Shit!” In a futile gesture, I frantically pounded on the windows. His loaded .45 was usually in the glove compartment, but more likely, he had it with him.
No time to waste. I leaped back into Champ’s truck and retraced my course, so frazzled I almost lost control of the wheel several times. Back at my original starting point, I jumped to the ground. Interminable seconds went by before my eyes adjusted to the dark once more. On a hunch, I searched in the bed of the pickup and found a heavy piece of rebar. That and my flashlight would have to make do as weapons. Praying to God for success, I headed towards the last place I’d seen the immigrants before the whirling disk had departed.
Disjointed thoughts zigzagged through my head as I ran haphazardly through the clearing and clambered up the slope. How had they staged the UFO appearance? Now that I thought about it more carefully, the size of the disc hadn’t altered significantly when it ‘landed’ at the foot of the cliff. Being closer, it should have looked much larger, so I surmised it was mock-up of an alien craft and the people involved must be utilizing the same sort of remote-controlled device to control the disc that model airplane enthusiasts use. And the alien costumes they’d employed were certainly frightening enough to scare the hell out of anyone. But why go to the expense of carrying out such an elaborate production?
Entering the murkiness of the canyon, I switched on the flashlight again. I looked behind me, trying to gauge where the immigrants had vanished. Right about here. I crashed through underbrush, stumbling over rocks and pebbles until I reached the bottom of the cliff. Frantic, I shined the light along the uneven surface, searching for an opening, listening to the sound of my own tortured breathing. Come on! Come on! I was certain there had to be a cave entrance somewhere nearby.
Precious moments passed. No success. I slid to the ground with my back against the wall. Unable to contain my sorrow, I wept bitter tears of self-condemnation and regret that intensified the aching void in my chest where my heart should be. I had failed everyone. If Tally were in the clutches of these maniacs, they would kill him just as surely as they probably had poor Javier by now. There was nothing for me to do but go for help and pray that I could find someone who would believe my wild story. Clever, clever bastards. Even though I’d already seen a preview of their machinations two nights ago in Morita, they had almost convinced me that I was seeing the real thing instead of this elaborate ruse.
When I placed one hand behind me to push myself to my feet, my palm encountered something smooth and sharp. Puzzled, I rolled over on one hip and felt along the base of the rock. I scratched the dirt and grass away and aimed the flashlight on something that glimmered back at me. What was this? As I slid my fingers along it, I felt a chill of comprehension. It was a metal track, like those used for a sliding patio door. Oh, baby, this was no natural phenomenon. I took a closer look at the rock above it—poked it, scratched it, ran my hand along the rutted surface until I reached a deep crevice, then dropped to my knees. The track ended. I scrambled to my feet and ran the flashlight over the rock again. It was hard to tell for certain with only the faint beam, but it appeared to be of a different color and
consistency than those around it. I pushed against it. Nothing. Damn it. I pushed harder. Nothing. Positioning my back against it, I propped my feet against the adjacent rock and used my legs to shove as hard as I could. It moved slightly. Euphoric with glee, I pushed until my breath was gone and suddenly it rolled open several inches.
A whiff of musty air blew in my face. Unbelievable. The damn thing was a fake. Someone in this bunch deserved high marks for ingenuity. I continued pushing until I was able to slip through the opening. Wow. The interior of the cave was black as pitch. I pressed my hand over my racing heart and dug deep for courage. I had no idea what I was heading into. As dangerous as it might be, I had no choice but to use the flashlight. The thin beam of light did little to dispel the thick darkness, but because of the cave’s enormity, and the fact that I could feel air moving, at least my usual claustrophobia didn’t bother me.
I shined the light around the room, marveling at the colossal stalactites and stalagmites, before noting the sloping sandy floor riddled with footprints. Gripping the rebar tightly in my right hand, I moved forward. The ceiling of the cave dropped lower and lower, until soon I was bent over in a crouch. At one point I paused, hearing a faint noise behind me. I killed the light and held my breath. I could have sworn I heard something, but after remaining motionless for more than a minute I resumed my search. Further on, I stopped again and listened to a steady plop, plop, plop. Most likely water dripping somewhere. The odor and dampness increased as I descended into the bowels of the cave, and it was noticeably warmer than the outside air. I wandered into numerous little side caves and several dead end tunnels, wasting valuable time. It was now ten o’clock.