The Shadow

by Thurlo, Aimée

“All right,” she said, hoping they could finally finish what they’d started. “Be careful!”

  “Always. And don’t worry. Just give me two shots to make him duck.”

  She fired, and Jonas dived ten feet to a stunted juniper, using it for concealment. Crawling away, he was soon out of Emily’s sight.

  As he moved off toward the other opening in the U-shaped canyon, pistol in hand, Jonas focused solely on his target. This was what he did best. Nothing would stop him now.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jonas crouched low and headed toward his target, ready and eager to meet his adversary head-on. As he remembered all the times Woods had threatened Emily with those close calls, a silent rage burned through him.

  He shook free of the emotion and fixed his thoughts on the job ahead. Nothing to excess. Not even anger. In times like this, skill and training had to take precedence.

  His approach from Grant’s right flank was so silent that the man had no idea what was going on. Woods, who’d moved several feet closer to Emily, was on his belly in a shallow draw, positioned too low to see anyone coming up on either flank until the person was right on him.

  Emily fired another shot. It was lined up correctly, but high, and whined over Grant’s head.

  Jonas heard the man curse, then saw him reach into his jacket pocket. As Grant tried to reload, bullets spilled out onto the ground.

  Making the most of the opportunity, Jonas jammed his pistol into its holster and shot forward, jumping on his opponent and knocking him away from his rifle. They rolled on the ground, but Grant kicked free, and hurled himself back at Jonas, flailing his fists like a madman.

  Jonas punched him in the nose, putting all his weight behind the blow. Woods screamed and stumbled back, his eyes wild with rage.

  Jonas had fought many men before, and knew desperation when he saw it. His opponent would never give up, not until he was unconscious, or dead.

  Woods jumped up on a rock, then reached down into his boot, pulling a knife. Leaping to the ground again, he began to circle Jonas, swinging the blade back and forth. “I’m going to gut you like a fish,” he sneered, his bloodied face twisted in rage.

  Jonas faked a move to the left, then kicked out. The blow caught Grant above his heart, spinning him around. He fell hard onto his chest, his arms pinned beneath him.

  When he didn’t jump back up, Jonas expected a trick and kept his distance, avoiding Grant’s feet. But Woods wasn’t moving at all and his breathing was shallow. Blood seeped out onto the ground from beneath his torso.

  It took Jonas only a second to realize the man had fallen on his own knife. Approaching carefully, he rolled Grant over, and stared into his fading eyes. The blade was hilt-deep in his chest.

  Hearing footsteps, Jonas spun around, drawing his pistol, then saw Emily, her rifle aimed straight at the fallen man. Jonas put away his weapon and reached for his cell phone.

  “You,” Grant whispered, seeing Emily.

  “Don’t talk,” she said, keeping the rifle aimed at him as Jonas phoned in their location and asked for a medical team.

  “A helicopter will take fifteen minutes minimum, and a four-wheel drive vehicle even longer. You’ll have to hang on, Woods,” Jonas announced after he ended the call.

  “Doesn’t matter…I’m finished.” He laughed bitterly, then coughed.

  “We need to pull out the knife,” Emily said, glancing at Jonas. “Don’t we?”

  “No. The bleeding would only get worse. There’s nothing we can do with a wound like this.”

  Emily looked back at Grant. “All this for my land? But why? You’ve already got more than I’ll ever have.”

  “Still don’t know?” he asked, his voice growing faint.

  Taking a raspy breath, he continued. “This…your mother’s fault…caught me digging hole for Tina. Started screaming…had to shut her up. Hit her with…shovel. Both buried…under concrete.”

  “Where her hobby room was going to go,” Emily exclaimed, suddenly understanding. “Then you parked Mom’s car by the bus station so we’d think she’d walked out on us.” Emily struggled against the anger that threatened to overwhelm her. All those years of wondering if she’d somehow been to blame. So many sleepless nights and so many tears…As she stared at the man who’d taken the irreplaceable from her, all she felt was contempt.

  “When you found out that we were building the inn, you knew Dad and I would tear up that concrete and find the bodies. That’s why you killed him, and tried everything you could to force me to stop construction. When that didn’t work, I had to be the next to die.” Tears streamed down her face. “You miserable…”

  “Not my fault,” he said, his voice fading to a whisper. “Tried to buy you out. Couldn’t kill you…Paid Sam to shoot…But you showed up…alive.”

  Emily stared at him in disgust. “To think I felt sorry for you once,” she said, then turned away.

  Jonas came up beside her. “Make up for some of what you’ve done,” he said to Grant. “Tell us where Dinétsoh is.”

  “Shot him…He ran,” Grant answered, his voice a faint rasp. “Was in the car…saw me. Had to die, too. Hid somewhere…out here. Took your father’s maps…looked…never found….” Grant coughed, and after a struggle, focused on her. “Found…turquoise key.” His chest heaved, then he grew still and the life faded from his eyes.

  Touching the dead went against everything Navajo, but Jonas did what had to be done. Crouching, he felt the pulse point at Grant’s neck. “He’s gone.”

  A shudder ripped through Emily and tears streamed down her face. “All these years of not knowing, but hoping…” She swallowed hard, trying to come to grips with the torrent of emotions inside her.

  “You have answers—and justice,” Jonas murmured, looking down at Grant’s body.

  She nodded slowly. “Then why don’t I feel any better?”

  He gathered her against him and stroked her hair gently. “The peace you want can’t come until you release the past. But life’s opening new doors for you. Walk through and see what you find.”

  His words revived her spirit and, filled with new courage, she stepped out of his embrace. “We have to go. Someone else is counting on us. Dinétsoh.”

  “The key Grant mentioned—we have to find it,” Jonas said.

  “Let me do it.” Crouching by the body, Emily searched Grant’s pockets. A moment later, she pulled out a key carved from blue-green turquoise and held it up.

  Jonas took it from her and gazed at the polished stone in awe. “This is the stuff of legends. To actually see it…”

  The key was hand-carved, designed with exquisite attention to detail. Images of warriors inlaid in silver on the upper part gave it almost a life of its own. The blade itself had only two ridges and an unusual looking notch at the end.

  “I don’t think this is meant to work in the same way modern keys do—to insert in a lock and apply torque to open. The stone would break off if you did that,” Jonas said slowly.

  “Where does it fit then? A key’s function is to open something.”

  “I think we’ll find the answer in the mine,” he said. “There’s something I haven’t told you. Dinétsoh and your father shared a secret….”

  Seeing Jonas struggle to come to terms with something, she took his hand and pressed it to her heart. “My father died guarding your tribe’s secrets. You can count on me to do the same.”

  “I believe you,” he replied, holding her gaze. After a heartbeat, he continued. “There’s a hiding place somewhere in the bluffs,” he said, telling her about Fire Rock Hollow. “The cave is said to be a death trap without the key. Dinétsoh was its guardian. The question is, without the key, was he able to make it inside? And if so, was there enough in the refuge to sustain him?”

  They hiked back to the opening indicated in her father’s note, then climbed down an old mine entrance. As before, the walls and ceiling had been shored up in places with big, heavy timbers, but the darkness was nearly abs
olute once they moved away from the opening.

  This time they had more than just Jonas’s penlight to help guide their way, but the flashlight she’d taken from Sam’s pickup didn’t help as much as she’d hoped. The batteries were obviously old, and the beam was yellow and narrowly focused.

  Seeing her trembling, Jonas took her hand in his. “Is it the darkness that scares you?”

  She nodded. “It’s a reminder of what the future holds for me if I do lose my sight. But it’s more than that, too. Down here everything closes in on you. It’s like being buried alive. I don’t know how miners survive it.”

  “Mother Earth herself gives them the confidence they need. To them, the tunnels are a way to make a living—life, if you will,” he said, leading her into a section they hadn’t been in before. “And, of course, they bring big lanterns.”

  The mine shafts angled only slightly, constructed to follow the seams of coal. Eventually they came across the same natural cave opening they’d found that morning, but from another direction. Jonas crouched down and studied the rock floor with his penlight.

  “Now that I have more light, I can see that Dinétsoh’s footsteps leading back out were meant to mislead. He came back out, then reversed himself and walked back in, stepping on his exit tracks very carefully.”

  “Walking backward.” Emily nodded. “So he’s in the cave somewhere.”

  Jonas nodded. “Or he went this way, then found another way out. We’ll go in to search, but be extremely careful what you touch in case he left more signs of passage.”

  “I’ll need to keep my hand on the rock wall to guide myself, but I’ll keep my touch light.”

  “If you feel anything unusual, let me know. And don’t make any snap judgments or take a side passage without checking first. Tribal hiding places are often guarded by traps or pits meant for enemies.”

  They entered the tall cavern, moving slowly upslope, listening, but the only sound was the hollow echo of their own passage. As they walked along, the height of the cave shortened gradually, putting the roof within reach.

  Emily fought back the waves of panic that swept over her. Trying to divert her thoughts, she focused on the earthy scent inside the cave, and noted the places on the walls that felt damp to the touch.

  Long tree roots from water-hungry plants had penetrated deep. Some of the hardiest roots dangled like ropes from above, and along the upper walls. Others had dried and fallen to the floor, leaving hundreds of shallow curved and twisting recesses in the walls, much like worm holes.

  “We need more light. I can’t see anything clearly anymore,” Jonas said in frustration. Sam’s flashlight had grown ever dimmer, so they basically had only his penlight.

  Relying on her other senses, which had sharpened now that her vision was nearly useless, Emily ran her hands over the walls, feeling, searching, using a featherlight touch. Suddenly she stopped.

  “There’s an indentation here in the rock. It doesn’t feel like the others. It’s almost key shaped.”

  Using the penlight, he came over and studied it. “You’re right.” Taking the turquoise key from his pocket, he slipped it into the crevice and waited, but nothing happened.

  Emily suddenly yelped as something brushed the side of her face. “Where did that come from?” She stepped away from what looked like a root that had come loose from the low roof and dangled down. “I thought it was a spider—or worse.”

  Jonas studied it for a moment. “It’s not a branch. It’s a rope.” Making a split-second decision, he gave it a gentle tug.

  Suddenly a deep rumble shook the cave. A thin layer of dust rose from the rocks and a small portion of the wall shuddered open, revealing a doorway.

  Beyond, an elderly man wrapped in a wool blanket sat on the cave floor, facing them. He raised his hand, directing the beam of a small flashlight into their faces. “About time you got here.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  As Jonas stepped into the cavernous room, he saw it contained cardboard boxes of MREs, meals ready to eat. There were also water bottles and other emergency supplies.

  “Uncle, I’m sorry for the delay,” he said with an answering smile. “I’m glad to find you well.”

  “Fire Rock Hollow served its purpose,” the old Navajo answered. “But getting here was…difficult.”

  “It’s a very long way from the highway, and more so for someone who’s wounded,” Emily said. Dinétsoh’s hair was grayer, but he was still strong—inside and out.

  “The air bags saved my life when we were run off the road, but my friend wasn’t as lucky,” he said, giving her a look filled with sadness. “I’d just managed to free myself from the wreckage when Woods drove up. But instead of helping, he opened fire. I didn’t have time to search for my friend’s cell phone. All I could do was grab the briefcase and run. I knew Fire Rock Hollow was my only chance, but along the way, I dropped the key. That made getting in trickier, and without it, getting back out was impossible—a security precaution I designed myself.”

  “You were taking a huge chance. Wouldn’t it have been better to hide in the mine tunnels?” Emily asked.

  He shook his head. “This was the safest place for the bearer bonds.” He aimed his flashlight at the briefcase leaning against the wall of the cave. “What I still don’t understand is how Woods found out about them.”

  “He didn’t know about them. He had different reasons for his crimes,” Jonas said, and explained.

  As they spoke, Emily took a few steps toward an inner, adjoining chamber.

  “Don’t go any farther, niece,” Dinétsoh told Emily firmly. “No one except the guardian of Fire Rock Hollow can see all the secrets this cave holds.” He looked at Jonas and added, “That will be you, if you accept the charge.”

  “It will be an honor,” Jonas stated, then helped the old man to his feet. “Allow us to help you out of here, Uncle. It’s time for you to greet Sun once again.”

  THE NEXT WEEK PASSED quickly. Grant’s two victims were removed from beneath the concrete pad, and Emily was able to lay her mother to rest in a grave next to her husband’s.

  In the brightness of the morning, Emily watched as the final roof truss for her new inn was lifted into place. The whispers of the past were fading as the future waited to be born.

  Seeing a familiar pickup coming up the drive, she stepped forward and waited as Jonas pulled in. “Good morning,” she called in greeting.

  “I see things are right on schedule.”

  She nodded and smiled. “And I have more good news. My doctor called this morning. A new gene therapy is scheduled for clinical trials. It shows a lot of promise, and I’ve been selected to participate. There are no guarantees, but these last few weeks I’ve learned to take life as it comes. I’m ready for this.”

  They stood side by side and watched as the workers began to attach the truss with nails and metal plates. “It’s time for us to go,” he said softly. “Others are waiting.”

  “I know,” she said, and, walking around the truck, climbed into the cab.

  As they drove west, toward the reservation, Emily’s heart was racing. All Jonas had told her about today was that she’d be asked to take an oath to keep Fire Rock Hollow a secret, then honored for her service to the tribe. She’d pressed him repeatedly for more of an answer, but he refused to tell her anything else.

  The trip led them south of the San Juan River and onto tribal land. The relentless march of time inevitably brought progress in its wake, but in the Navajo Nation, change came slowly. Though where they lived was dry and desolate looking in many places, the tribe had managed to hold on to what was important—the hearts and minds of their people. The future here held nothing but promise.

  They drove past a chapter house, then turned down a dirt road leading to a hogan at the base of a low hill. White smoke drifted out of the hole in the center of the roof, and Emily could smell the scent of burning piñon pine.

  Jonas parked fifty feet from the traditionally buil
t six-sided log stucture, and helped her out of the pickup. “When we go inside, remember that women sit on the north side, to your right. I’ll go to the left.”

  “What else should I do?”

  “You’ll know as things unfold.”

  “But—” By then, he’d already gone ahead to hold open the blanket entrance for her, which faced the east, toward the rising sun.

  As they stepped inside the small, nearly circular hogan, she saw Dinétsoh sitting on the west side, behind the central fire pit. Two Navajo men were at his sides, one wearing the white headband of a hataalii, a medicine man. The men greeted Jonas with a nod, then gestured for her to take a seat on the sheepskin rug.

  Emily sat and waited.

  “Yáat’ééh,” Dinétsoh said in greeting. “I want to do a song of blessing for both of you, a hozonji. It’ll bring you luck and restore harmony.”

  “Thank you, Uncle,” she answered.

  He took a deep breath and began the Sing, accompanied by a gourd rattle and the steady rhythm of a ceremonial drum. The Sing’s mesmeric quality echoed with power and the rich cultural history of the Navajo people.

  When he was finished, Dinétsoh asked Emily to take an oath insuring she’d protect tribal secrets. After she finished, he continued. “You’ve completed what your father set out to do, and have done us a great service. You’re now Bik’is—a special friend.”

  He placed a small carving before her. “This is a token of our friendship, something you can use to call us should you ever need help. Your friend,” he said, nodding to Jonas, “suggested its form.”

  She accepted the small, dark-colored fetish and studied it closely, running her fingertips over the artifact. The animal figure had been beautifully crafted out of coal. “Can you tell me what it symbolizes?” she asked.

  “The heroes in our stories often had mentors,” Dinétsoh explained. “That’s Pocket Gopher. He was able to see through the darkness, and went where others could not go. In our creation stories, Pocket Gopher’s help spelled the difference between victory and defeat.”