Torrent

by Lindsay Buroker

  “Go ahead,” he said. “I have more tape in my pack. I’ll make another rope.”

  “I hope duct tape is tax deductible.”

  “Given that it’s being used in our pursuit of pictures of monsters that are going up on our webpage to make us advertising money, I should think so.”

  “I’d love to be in the room when you explain that to the IRS auditor.”

  “Hm,” Simon said, “maybe we’ll just categorize it under shipping supplies.”

  Temi had finished tying the whip, so I grasped the handle. Even with its aid, the climb wasn’t easy. I struggled to pull myself up, hand-over-hand until I was high enough that I could thrust my feet against the walls to reduce the strain on my arms. Given how physical our workdays had been of late, Simon and I might have to add gym memberships to our tax deductions too.

  “What happened up here?” I asked while Simon worked on Rope Number Two. “Did you have any warning that those guys were climbing out, or did they see you?”

  “Your rope started smoking, then burst into flames,” she said. “I took that as a warning.”

  “Er, I would too.”

  “I rushed over there and hid.” Temi pointed toward a couple of thick-trunked trees growing from the bank. “I’d barely reached the spot when one climbed out, with the other right after.”

  “Wait, they climbed out after they torched the rope?”

  She nodded. “They seemed quite agile.”

  My mind boggled at the idea. I’d barely made it out with the whip.

  “One of them was carrying something too,” Temi said.

  “Oh?” I hadn’t seen a thing in the dark down there, aside from those eyes.

  “It was bundled up, but a handle or maybe a hilt stuck out of the end. If I had to guess, I’d say it was a sword.”

  “A sword? What would that be doing down there? Nobody in North America had swords until the Spaniards showed up.” An image of an Aztec Macuahuitl came to mind, but that was more like a sharpened club than a sword.

  “It can’t be a Spanish sword?” Temi asked.

  “Well, I guess it could if the cavates aren’t as old as I thought. Or... I don’t know. They dug under the caves, didn’t they? For something buried... when? Before the cavates were dug? It’d make even less sense for a sword to be in there, then, don’t you think?” I was puzzled, but I was fascinated. I really wanted to talk to those riders again. And figure out a way to convince them to provide answers to my oodles of questions.

  “I don’t even know what a cavate is,” Temi pointed out.

  “My rope’s ready,” Simon called up. “Can someone catch it?”

  “Yes,” Temi and I said together.

  Something slapped the side of the hole, then splashed into the water below. “Oops, just a second. This is going to take a few tries.”

  A distant roar sounded from farther up the valley. Motorcycles starting up.

  I grimaced. “Not that there was much room for maneuvering, but I wish we’d hidden Zelda.”

  “We’ll have to hope they thought incinerating the rope was enough of a delaying tactic,” Temi said.

  A wad of braided duct tape flopped out of the hole. I caught it before it could fall back in, then tied the end around the stump. “If they incinerated the van, Simon will be devastated.”

  “I didn’t get the sense that they felt that... angry toward us,” Temi said.

  “What gives you that idea?”

  “I thought I was pretty quiet in moving toward my hiding spot, but they both looked toward my trees before they jogged off up the riverbed.”

  “They saw you?” I asked, then leaned over the hole. “You’re set, Simon.”

  “Thanks, coming now,” he called up.

  “I can’t be positive, but it seemed so,” Temi said. “After eyeing my hiding spot, they exchanged looks with each other. I thought their expressions were more... exasperated than murderous.”

  “It’s true that I didn’t get a murderous vibe when I talked to the chatty one either,” I said. “Though I definitely don’t think we should consider them buddies.”

  “Which one is the ‘chatty’ one?”

  “Uh, the younger one. I guess I can’t be sure if he’s younger, but he seems more innocent. Less hard and chiseled. That’s Eleriss. Blue Eyes.”

  Scuffs and pants drifted up from below. Simon was having as much fun with the climb as I’d had.

  “What’s the other one’s name?” Temi asked. “He was more... striking.”

  “Jakatra.”

  Simon’s head popped up, then he stuck his hands out on either side of the hole. The worried crease on his brow didn’t seem to have anything to do with the climb. He was frowning at Temi, though she was gazing off in the direction the riders had gone.

  “Who’s striking?” Simon mouthed to me.

  “It’s not important.” I stood and helped him the rest of the way out of the hole. Even if Temi thought Jakatra was a handsome cat, she’d reassess any attraction once she saw those eyes on a dark night. I shuddered. I told myself it was because of my soaking clothing, but I wasn’t certain that was the truth.

  CHAPTER 15

  By the time we made it back to the van, the sky had grown a few shades darker. The sight of Zelda’s blue paint filled me with relief. The van hadn’t been incinerated or otherwise demolished. So long as Eleriss and Jakatra hadn’t decided to pay us back with slashed tires...

  Perhaps fearing the same thing, Simon jogged ahead. While he was doing a lap around the van, his gaze toward the tires, I noticed that the driver-side window had been rolled up. It had been down before, hadn’t it? Yes, and I’d cracked the one on the passenger side a few inches too. Now all of the windows were up.

  “I think our friends may have visited the van again,” I said.

  Simon followed my gaze to the windows, then he tried the side door. We’d locked it, but he opened it without needing a key. “I knew it! I’ve got those punks now!”

  He jumped inside, his fists balled, then lunged for the corner where he kept the Dirt Viper.

  “Huh, it’s still here,” he said.

  I climbed inside. “If they found their sword, they wouldn’t need a metal detector anymore.”

  “Their sword?” Simon asked.

  “You didn’t hear that part?”

  “Must have been when I was grunting and straining to get out of that hole.”

  “When they left, Temi saw them carrying a bundle she thought might be a sword,” I said. Temi had fallen behind on the jog back to the van, but she was limping out of the riverbed now. I gave her a wave, then turned the motion into a scratch of my jaw and peered around the van. “If the metal detector is here, what’s missing?”

  “I’m... not sure. But I can find out.” Simon headed toward the front. “Could be they enjoyed the springiness of our seat cushions the last time they broke in and came in to rest their feet.”

  “Yes, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been tempted to jump into random people’s cars to take a load off, if only I knew how to pick the locks.”

  Simon had left his MacBook on the dashboard, but he frowned when he got up there. It was upside down on the floor. “Weird.”

  I sniffed. “Does the van smell like cleaning solution to you?”

  “Now that you mention it... yes, which is odd. Because we don’t clean.” He picked up the computer and prodded a key, bringing the screen to life, though it brightened gradually instead of simply flashing on, like usual.

  “Hey, I sweep out the bread crumbs now and then.”

  Temi leaned inside. “Perhaps we should discuss this from the safety of town. It’s starting to get dark, and it took us a while to drive out here.”

  “Good idea.” Even if the monster was twenty miles to the north, I didn’t relish the idea of navigating the tangle of unmarked forest service and logging roads in the dark.

  “Wait,” Simon said. “Let’s see what my camera footage caught.”

&nbs
p; “You recorded the interior of the van?”

  “Knowing those thieves were parked right up the gully? Of course, I did.”

  I gave him a quick look, wondering if it was “thieves” he’d hoped to catch footage of. Maybe he’d thought the monster would be out here and that the riders had been heading out to deal with it. And maybe his recording had less to do with getting me a language sample and more to do with catching that thing on video.

  Simon plopped into the passenger seat without meeting my gaze and brought up the webcam software.

  Temi looked at the woods, then climbed in and shut the door. “Can you drive, Delia?”

  “Yes, if someone didn’t lose the keys in the river.” I poked Simon in the shoulder.

  He was fast-forwarding through footage of the van’s interior. Without taking his focus from the screen, he fished the keys out of his pocket and handed them to me.

  I didn’t get further than plugging the right one into the ignition when he said, “Ah ha!”

  My curiosity got the best of me again, and I leaned over to watch. One figure in a black leather jacket hopped into the van, then the other followed. Jakatra carried the bundle Temi had mentioned. That did look like a sword hilt sticking out of the fabric wrapping. The camera had recorded the sound of them speaking, though it was hard to make out because they hadn’t been anywhere near the built-in microphone. But maybe with enough enhancement...

  “What language is that?” Temi drew closer, tilting an ear toward the laptop.

  “I haven’t figured it out yet,” I said, “but Simon’s going to save that video for me. With an mp3 of the audio, I bet I can find some language identification program out there to run it through.”

  “Will do,” he said, his eyes still riveted to the playback.

  The riders had gone directly to our storage cabinets, as if they knew exactly what they wanted. They must have taken the full tour on their previous visit. Eleriss pulled out a jug from under the sink.

  “That’s my rust remover,” I said. “What do they think our van is? Their private dispensary of field supplies?”

  “Well, we are following them around,” Temi said.

  While Eleriss read the directions on the back of the bottle, Jakatra unwrapped his bundle. Temi’s guess had been right. It was a sword in an ornamental scabbard. Huh. I’d been expecting a much more advanced weapon for monster slaying, something more like whatever they’d used to burn that hole in the rock. I leaned closer, trying to make out some of the runes trailing down the side, but the scabbard must have been buried for a long time. Rust coated it, and age had worn down the etchings. Even if it were in pristine condition, I doubted I could have made out much at that distance.

  Eleriss found a rag and applied some of the rust remover to the lip of the scabbard. It must have fused to the sword. A couple of minutes passed while they worked on the weapon. Eleriss glanced toward the camera—no, out the windshield behind it—a few times.

  “That must be why they burned your rope,” Temi said. “They were worried we’d catch them here.”

  I thought of the easy way Eleriss and Jakatra had kept us from escaping their hotel room. “I doubt they’re all that worried about us. Maybe they were concerned about something else out there, lurking in the trees. What do you think, Simon?”

  His face didn’t give away anything, but there was a smirk in his tone when he said, “You never know.”

  “Why would it be out here?” Temi asked, no hint of smirks or pleasure of any sort in her tone. Rather, it seemed to silently add, “And why would we be out here if we thought it would be?”

  “Those two guys are linked to it somehow,” I said. “They can track it... and maybe it can track them.” I glanced at the closed windows—we hadn’t seen the riders roll them up, but that had to be coming. I wagered something more than mosquitos has prompted it. “Eleriss said they were looking for a way to kill the creature. What if that sword is it? And what if the monster knows and doesn’t want them to have it?”

  “A sword?” Temi asked. “When police with rifles haven’t harmed it? And didn’t you shoot it with an arrow?”

  “I shot at it. I’m still not sure I connected with it.” I wondered if Autumn had received my mail yet. Flagstaff was only a two-hour drive, so the post office should have delivered it in one night.

  “Look.” Simon pointed at the screen.

  Eleriss had lifted a hand, his head cocked. He rushed into the front seats, almost knocking the MacBook off the dashboard. He rolled up the windows. His comrade said something. As usual, the words meant nothing to me, but they sounded sarcastic.

  They redoubled their efforts on the sword. Finally, they were able to pull it free.

  “Whoa,” Simon mumbled when it came out of its scabbard.

  Not only was the blade inside free of rust, but it was glowing silver.

  “That’s... not normal,” Temi said.

  “Uh, no,” I said. “Simon, got a Star Trek episode for this?”

  “For glowing swords?” He shook his head. “I think we’ve moved out of science fiction and into RealmSaga.”

  The silver illumination didn’t surprise Eleriss and Jakatra. They held the blade between them, touching and pointing and discussing. The sword was too far from the camera to make out any symbols or runes that might be running down its side—and the glow further obscured the details—but it was a long curving blade similar to a scimitar. But nothing about the design reminded me of the middle east where that type of sword had been popular with horse troops. Nothing about the design reminded me of anything. The back side of the blade had a handful of serrated teeth near the tip, not large enough that they should affect the balance of the blade, but they’d do some damage sinking into one’s flesh.

  I groped for an explanation for glowing metal and couldn’t come up with anything besides radioactivity. Given that the sword had been in our van, I hoped that wasn’t the case.

  “Just like that giant coin in their hotel room,” Simon said.

  The disk had been glowing gold instead of silver, but maybe both items came from the same culture. Whatever that was. I’d never read about anything like this in my archaeology books. This was either brand new technology to go along with our genetically engineered or otherwise enhanced friends or... I rubbed the side of my head, not ready to accept the notion of aliens and alien technology on Earth. Eleriss wiped off the rust remover jug and returned it to the cupboard. At least he was a conscientious alien.

  “There’s no such thing as magic, right?” Temi asked.

  Simon cupped his chin and said, “Hm,” neither agreeing nor refuting.

  “Enh,” I said, finding my new-technology and genetic engineering theories more plausible than magical swords. I didn’t follow the metallurgy world; for all I knew, there was a way to create luminescent alloys.

  On the video playback, a shadow moved across the back window, and I jumped a foot.

  The riders spun toward it. They barked a few words at each other, then Eleriss thrust the sword into Jakatra’s hands and pointed at the door. That surprised me, because I’d taken the sterner of the pair as the leader. The stream of vitriolic words that flowed from Jakatra’s mouth needed no translation, but he opened the door and jumped outside regardless.

  A dark hulking form darted past a side window, moving with alarming speed for something so large. Though daylight remained outside the van, it had blurred by too quickly to distinguish details, and I had no better idea of what the monster looked like than I’d had before.

  Thrashing noises came from one side of the video pickup. Even though this had happened a half hour ago, I found myself leaning forward, my fingernails curling into my palms, as if I expected to help somehow. I didn’t know if it was concern for the riders or concern over the notion that the creature had been right here, practically in our vehicle, but my heart was racing.

  Still inside the van, Eleriss opened his jacket flap and pulled out some kind of wooden baton, about six
inches long. He flicked his wrist, and a serrated blade flipped out of the side, locking into place to make a wicked knife. He eyed the weapon and shook his head. Maybe it, like my bow, couldn’t harm the creature. His youthful face grim, Eleriss jumped out of the van after his comrade. He slid the door shut behind him, and both riders disappeared from our sight.

  My fingers twitched toward the laptop, as if moving it now could change the way the camera had faced thirty minutes ago.

  A shout, or maybe that was a cry of pain, sounded on the video. A screech followed, like metal on bone—or metal on claw. Something thudded against the van, shaking the camera. The motorcycle engines started up, the roar drowning out the other noises. The van quaked again, and the video blurred, then went dark. That must have been when the MacBook ended up on the floor.

  “Dang,” Simon said, “I would have mounted it to something if I’d known there’d be rambunctious happenings.”

  Rambunctious happenings, what an understatement. I stepped out of the van to look around. The two motorcycles were gone, so Eleriss and Jakatra must have both escaped, but had they been injured? Had they injured the creature? And had it chased after them, or was it still in the area?

  That last thought set my heart to pounding again, and I rotated three hundred and sixty degrees, peering into the trees on all sides. It was quiet out there and getting darker. We ought to leave ourselves, but I had to know what had happened.

  I studied the grass and dirt around the van, searching for evidence of the battle. Now that I was looking, I had no trouble spotting it: trampled brush there, broken twigs there, a spraying of blood there, and footprints all over the place. In addition to the booted prints of the riders—I gulped—those of the monster marred the earth as well.

  Though I hadn’t been thinking of it as a bear, somehow I’d expected a bearlike print. These were closer to wolf or dog tracks, though they were far larger than the prints of any canine I’d seen, and they were webbed between the digits, like duck feet. I moved to another print, thinking the first had been smeared somehow and that I was mistaken, but there were plenty of other examples.