The Whittier Trilogy

by Michael W. Layne

  Trent looked up.

  “And how’s that?”

  “To deal with spirits, we have to find someone who travels in both their world and ours.”

  “You’re talking about finding a shaman,” Zana said, glancing at Christina, who nodded her head.

  “That’s right. I’ve been looking for the local Dena’ina shaman for the last four days to help me with my own issues. I think I saw him watching me once, for just a second, but when I tried to follow him, he disappeared in the trees.”

  “Do you think he’ll help me?” Trent said.

  A dark cloud seemed to pass over Christina’s face.

  “If I let you come with me—he might.”

  Trent crossed his arms in front of his chest.

  “If you don’t, what’s to stop us from following you? Or from finding him on our own?”

  Christina laughed.

  “If it were that easy, don’t you think I would have found him already?”

  Trent was about to respond, when Christina nodded her head as if she had just arrived at a decision.

  “I’m sorry, Trent. I know most of this is my fault, and I do want to help. You and Zana can come with me tomorrow and help me find him. But, I can’t promise he’ll want to help.”

  Trent uncrossed his arms.

  “Understood. But, do you have a plan for finding him?”

  “I’m starting to think the best way to find a shaman is to let him find you.”

  “You want us to sit here in the cabin and hope a mystical holy man walks up, knocks on the door, and says hi?”

  Christina shook her head.

  “No. We need to be moving—out in the woods—and hope our paths intersect. Or like I said, maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll find us, instead.”

  “I may believe in the existence of some spirits now, but I still don’t believe in luck.”

  Trent got up and started packing some food for the hike. Zana followed suit, behind him.

  Christina cleared her throat. When Trent turned around to look at her, she seemed tired for the first time that morning.

  “I know you came a long way for this, Trent, and that you want that spirit gone as soon as possible, but I’ve been out there for four days, and I need some rest. And I haven’t had a decent meal in a while. I either stay here with you two or I can go back to my apartment and meet you in the morning.”

  Trent sat down slowly.

  “You’re right, of course,” he said, looking briefly in Zana’s direction. “We can take the day and let you rest, then get going in the morning. And you can stay here if you want. If you run into the Sheriff down there, he’s going to want to talk to you and ask some questions.”

  Christina blushed.

  “I hadn’t thought about that, but you’re right. I’ll stay here if it’s okay with Zana.”

  Zana almost managed a completely authentic smile.

  “Of course. You’re more than welcome.”

  “To be honest, I haven’t had anyone to talk to in a while either.”

  After making eggs and bacon for breakfast, Trent went washed their only pan and the plates.

  When the kitchen was clean again, he and Zana sat together at the table, and Christina flopped on top of the bed.

  “Hope you don’t mind,” she said.

  Before either Trent or Zana could answer, Christina was fast asleep.

  While she napped, Trent went outside to gather and cut more firewood, and Zana tidied up around the cabin and cleaned it the best she could, as per Mrs. Carney’s mandate.

  By the time they were done, it was late in the afternoon, and Trent decided to cook up some of the salmon steaks he had purchased at the deli for an early dinner.

  Zana helped him in the kitchen.

  “She’s pretty,” she said.

  “Not as pretty as you,” Trent said.

  “I actually believe you, for some reason,” she said with a grin.

  “You should. It’s the truth,” he said, leaning over to kiss her.

  Soon, the cabin filled with the smell of grilled salmon and vegetables. From the corner of his eye, he saw Christina stir.

  She reached her hands above her head and stretched her arms as far as they would go.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I must have more exhausted than I realized, and the bed was so warm. I couldn’t help myself.”

  Now that she’d had a chance to rest, Trent noticed her body language was completely different—less confrontational—more relaxed.

  “We completely understand,” Zana said. “Gave us some chance to get the cabin straight for Mrs. Carney.”

  After some of the best salmon Trent had ever tasted, Christina helped clean up the kitchen. With the three of them starting to act more normal around each other, Christina told them about her seemingly endless trek through the woods surrounding Whittier, searching for the elusive shaman.

  Soon, the sun started to sink low in the sky, and their conversation started to lull.

  “We could play cards,” Trent suggested at one point.

  Both of the women gave him looks as if to say, you must be crazy.

  “Or we can just sit here and not talk for a few more hours until it’s time to go to sleep again.”

  “It’s a bit early for that,” Christina said, “even without the benefit of electricity to help us stay entertained. But it’s also too late to be trampling around outside.”

  Both Zana and he looked at each other, silently agreeing that they had no desire to explore the surrounding forest at night.

  Christina grinned.

  “I’ve got an idea,” she said.

  Christina stood up, pushed the kitchen table to the left, and pointed at the floor.

  “Trap door,” she said. “Leads to a small root cellar.”

  Trent and Zana booth looked at her expectantly.

  “That’s where Vera keeps her hooch.”

  Zana knitted her eyebrows.

  “You mean, Mrs. Carney?”

  “Don’t worry. She’s a friend of mine. She won’t mind.”

  Before Zana could say anything else, Trent whipped out three drinking glasses from the kitchen cupboard and set them on the counter.

  He looked at both of the women, making his face as serious as possible.

  “Given the recent discovery of booze in the cabin, I suggest we lock the door and get drunk in a small log cabin in the middle of the woods in one of the most remote parts of Alaska. After all, what could possibly go wrong?”

  They all laughed as Christina hauled up three bottles of a clear, unmarked liquid, and set them on the counter, next to the glasses.

  She opened one of the bottles and partly filled each of the glasses.

  They each grabbed a glass and clinked them together all at once.

  “Cheers,” Christina said, as the downed the alcohol and the drinking began in earnest.

  Chapter 24

  THE NEXT MORNING, Trent forced his eyelids open—first one and then the other.

  He prided himself on his mental acuity, but it took him a full five seconds to grasp the fact that there was something wrong with the two legs draped poking out from under the top sleeping bag.

  One of the legs belonged to someone with olive complexion, while the other perfectly toned and formed leg was made from skin like fine alabaster.

  He glanced to his left and saw Zana, naked, with her head buried in his side.

  Beyond her, he saw an equally naked Christina, nestled against Zana’s back.

  He raised his head just enough to see the kitchen table and the empty bottles of alcohol. He let his head drop back down to the pillow with a groan.

  Trent searched his memory, but couldn’t remember much about the night before. He remembered when the shots of alcohol started, but not when they had ended. Whatever had been in those bottles was homemade and stronger than anything he’d ever had before.

  Although a part of him wished that he could recall what a good time he’d mos
t likely had, most of him was worried that their tryst would end up causing more harm than good.

  With that thought still in his mind, Zana pulled the top sleeping bag over their bodies, then draped her arm over Trent’s chest. At the same time, Christina snuggled closer to Zana. As their body parts moved around, Trent felt himself becoming aroused.

  He cautiously started caressing Zana’s hip, and she moved herself closer against him. A second later, Christina lazily kissed Zana on the cheek.

  “Good morning, you two,” Christina said—her voice soft as she struggled to wake up completely. Her hand fell on top of Zana’s, which was gently rubbing Trent’s lower stomach.

  All thoughts of the potentially awkward situation vanished as his libido took over, and the blood rushed from his brain to his lower body.

  Unsure of how to proceed, he leaned in to kiss Zana, who reciprocated with her tongue. When they took a second to breathe, Christina pulled Zana back to her and kissed her full on the mouth.

  The two women smiled at each other.

  “That was nice,” Christina said. “But you know what I really want to do now?”

  Zana grinned.

  “I think I do,” she said.

  Trent felt his excitement rise. He was about to cast his own vote, but Christina talked over him, and his fantasy of repeating the likely events of the previous night quickly faded away.

  “What I really want is to get some breakfast in me before we get going for the day,” she said as she reached over and pinched Trent’s thigh just hard enough to let him know that she was being serious. “I’m hungry.”

  Zana scooted to the foot of the bed and jumped to her feet.

  “I completely agree. Come on baby, let’s get up and at ‘em.”

  Trent moaned and exhaled a long breath. Maybe later, he thought to himself, even though he knew that wouldn’t be the case.

  “Come on,” Zana said, extending her hand to him. “Last night was fun, but we have a shaman to find and a spirit to get rid of.”

  Christina laughed.

  “I like her attitude.”

  Trent rubbed his head and forced himself to sit up in bed.

  “Give me a minute or two. I need to compose myself…”

  The two women walked around the cabin, comfortable in their nudity, exchanging a touch or two of familiarity when they passed each other.

  Trent still felt uncomfortable about the situation, but at least Zana and Christina weren’t awkward around each other anymore. When neither of them was looking directly at him, Trent eased out of bed and put his clothes on as quickly as possible.

  “What’s the matter, honey?” Zana said. “Is the mighty Trent Walker embarrassed?”

  Trent coughed, and his face turned red.

  “I’m just a little cold,” he said, trying to sound convincing.

  The women both laughed as each started to get dressed. Trent never thought he would be relieved to see two beautiful women put their clothes back on, but now at least it would be easier for him to focus on the task at hand.

  As he and Zana readied their packs and slipped into their boots, he felt a stirring in the back of his mind and almost grinned. If he didn’t know any better, he would swear that the animal spirit inside him had enjoyed the events from the night before as well.

  Once they were all working together on the same task, it didn’t take long to cook up and eat a solid breakfast of eggs and more bacon. They also drank plenty of water, using up half of the bottles they’d purchased in town. After they’d packed some provisions for a light lunch and a few more of the water bottles, the three stepped out into the crisp morning air.

  They set off at a slow pace, and Trent allowed himself to take in the beauty of the Alaskan spruces bathed in the rays of the rising sun.

  “Which direction?” he asked.

  Christina took point.

  “Like I said, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t really matter. Just as long as we keep moving—and probably keep as far away from town as possible. The path to find a holy man out here isn’t a straight one. He could be standing only a few feet away from us right now, but we wouldn’t be able to see him or walk over to him unless we found the right trail through the woods.”

  “I assume you’re speaking metaphorically,” Trent said, as he filed in behind Christina and Zana.

  “I know you don’t like it when your logical mind is challenged,” Christina said, “but if you wait, you’ll see what I’m talking about.”

  “When we find him?” Trent said.

  Christina quickened her pace and sighed.

  “When he finds us.”

  Trent forced himself to let Christina lead the way through the trees. After an initial silence, conversation started to flow again as they travelled through thick trees, random clearings, and small streams of water that flowed down from the top of the mountains.

  After an hour, there was a natural lapse in the conversation again, and the only sound they could hear was the crunching of snow beneath their feet.

  Trent coughed twice.

  “That was fun last night,” he said.

  Silence.

  “Wasn’t it?” he said.

  Christina cleared her throat.

  “I’d say it was more…practical than fun. Like a human version of a three dog night.”

  Zana looked confused when she heard the term Christina had just used.

  “It’s an old expression,” Trent said, “like when it’s so cold people need to sleep with three dogs to stay warm. It was the name of a band, too, but I’ll tell you about them later.”

  Zana smiled and glanced at Christina.

  “I did feel plenty warm last night.”

  Trent didn’t know how to respond to that, so he walked along quietly for another half an hour, until they heard a sound from deep inside the forest to their left.

  He turned to look, but he didn’t feel any fear.

  Zana, on the other hand, pulled in closer to Trent as they walked along.

  “Maybe we should talk more,” he said. “So we don’t surprise a bear by accident.”

  He felt some of the tension drain out of Zana as Christina looked over at him and shrugged.

  “With all the snow crunching we’re making, I’m sure we won’t sneak up on one accidentally. But if you want to talk, tell me what you’ve been up to since you left here the last time.”

  Trent continued to make his way through the trees and almost stumbled on a log.

  “I went to Las Vegas,” he said, recovering from his near fall. “Did a few shows. Met Zana. All in all, it’s been a pretty good month and a half.”

  “That’s all? No offense, Zana.”

  “He saved me and my friends,” Zana said, “from a crazy man who was hunting people in the storm tunnels under the city.”

  Christina looked over at Trent.

  “Is that what made you turn?”

  “We were being hunted by this man—this hunter—and the spirit just took over. I was there in my brain, watching it all happen like it was a movie, but I couldn’t do anything about what was going on. The spirit was intelligent but it didn’t communicate in words. It was definitely an animal.

  “I watched as it—as we—tracked this guy who called himself the Hunter through the tunnels, funneling him into a trap. I thought I was going crazy at first, but crazy couldn’t have made me so strong and so fast, and it definitely couldn’t have made me heal so quickly from my wounds. Ever since that night, I’ve been trying to come up with a different answer, but I’m left with only one possibility—a supernatural one. Somehow, I did turn into something that was not human.”

  Christina stopped walking for a moment, and leaned up against one of the spruce trees as she caught her breath.

  “Did you kill this Hunter guy personally?”

  Trent and Zana stopped walking as well.

  “Not me, personally,” he said. “I left him at the mercy of the homeless people he’d been terrorizing.”


  “Like Zana?”

  “I was at the front of the mob. It was…it was justice.”

  “And you saw him die?”

  Zana was quiet, thinking.

  “I’ve never seen a man be killed before. Not up close at least. He fought back toward the end, and he killed one of us. After that, everyone started running.”

  “But not you,” Christina said.

  “No. I stayed and finished what we had started. There was no way he could have lived through the beating we gave him. His face didn’t even look like it was human after I was done with him. And he wasn’t moving at all.”

  “What are you getting at?” Trent asked.

  Christina started walking again—off to their right.

  “If the spirit took over Trent’s body to track down this Hunter, it must have had a good reason for doing so. Maybe there was some connection between the Hunter and Whittier that we don’t know about.”

  “The guy hunted all over the world,” Trent said. “Maybe he came here on one of his expeditions and killed some animals. He wasn’t old enough to have been here in World War II for the slaughter, though.”

  “The asshole’s dead. Why are we even talking about him?” Zana said.

  Christina was silent for a moment before answering.

  “Trent was asking earlier why his spirit is still with him—why it hadn’t left, especially since the rest of the spirits have stopped possessing the townspeople.”

  Trent and Zana stopped walking again.

  “And your point?” he said.

  Christina turned around and walked back to them. She faced both Trent and Zana.

  “Maybe the animal spirit is still with you because the Hunter isn’t dead.”

  “Shit,” Trent said.

  Zana moved in close and grabbed Trent’s arm.

  “I’m telling you, there’s no way he could have survived that.”

  Christina looked down at the snow on the ground, then back up at Trent and Zana.

  Trent started moving again.

  “If Zana says he’s dead, then he’s dead. Right now, lets stay focused on finding the shaman and leave the theories until after we’re all sitting back in town, having a drink together. Deal?”

  Christina shrugged.

  “Deal,” they both said, as the three of them continued to wander through the woods, in search of the one man who might be able to help Trent.