Robert laughed, “Seriously? You’re telling me you had a dream about a weird encounter you had with a kid and a coyote and now you think there are demons involved?”
J.B. reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“In my dream, the coyote complained and he said something in Spanish. You know I don’t speak Spanish. He quoted something from those rules he was referencing and when I woke up, I wrote it down. I still don’t know what it means.”
He passed the note to Robert who took it and sounded out the misspelled words, “Uno al olor, uno a matar. It roughly means, ‘one to scent and one to kill.’”
“Holy shit,” said J.B. pushing himself up from the barstool and pacing down the length of the bar.
“You didn’t pull this out of some translation dictionary or something to freak me out did you?”
J.B. shook his head and paced again, “I swear on my life it’s exactly as I heard it in my dream. They were there to kill me and they couldn’t.”
Robert closed his eyes, “J.B. just stop a second. You’re getting all worked up over a fucking dream.”
J.B. paused and took a deep breath.
“Assuming all this is not just horseshit,” Robert said, “which I still think it is, why would they want to kill you? If it’s about the stone, you don’t even have it at your house.”
J.B. picked up his beer and looked at him puzzled.
“I need to get some air,” he said, and walked out into the cold.
By 7:00, J.B. was sitting behind the bar cradling a Miller Lite and staring at the NFC game on the color television. Robert was playing pool by himself. There was no one else in the bar and there hadn’t been since they opened the doors at 5:00.
“Can you fucking believe it? Not one person here. I didn’t think it would be a total bust.”
“Yeah, I figured we’d at least see the Thompson boys,” J.B. said. “Although it is Sunday and that’s bath day from what I hear.”
“So you think it’s because of Anderson or because it’s Sunday or a little of both?”
“Probably a little of both. I figure we’ll give it one more hour and then shut the doors. Do you think he did it?”
“I don’t know how much you know about Mormonism, but the ones who break away from the main church like Anderson can have some twisted theology.”
“How so?” asked Robert.
“Well, most of them leave because they think the church is going in the wrong direction. They believe the message is becoming more watered down and mainstream. Mormonism was founded on the belief that God didn’t just talk to the preacher at the church. God talks to anybody who will open their ears and listen for him. So true believers can receive revelations from God at any time.”
Robert had stopped playing pool and was leaning up against the table, “I bet that caused some problems.”
“Pretty early on it did. In fact, before the Mormons even moved this far West, Joseph Smith and the leaders of the church retracted that belief and stated Smith was the one true prophet. That was later modified so the leader of the main body of the church could speak on God’s behalf.”
“How is it you know all this?” asked Robert, raising an eyebrow.
“How is it you can live in Utah, read as much as you do and never once study the history of the place?”
Robert reached for his Corona.
“I’d rather read fiction.”
“That shit rots your brain.”
“The beer or the fiction?”
“The fiction mostly.”
“So, the fundamentalists don’t believe in the church?”
“Most don’t,” replied J.B. “Most believe God has chosen another prophet outside the church or they believe God is speaking through multiple prophets. There are those who believe the main body strayed when they rescinded polygamy or when they allowed blacks into the church. They tend to found their own small churches based on the older teachings. Some, like Anderson, just do their own thing and don’t bother anyone.”
“You can’t really say that now,” corrected Robert. He pushed himself away from the table, turned around and took another shot just missing the side pocket.
“No, I guess you can’t. Still there are others who come up with some crazy shit that they swear God told them.”
“Like what?”
“You ever hear of the Dream Mine?” asked J.B.
“What’s a Dream Mine?”
“Well this guy had a dream that God wanted him to dig this mine. It’s right here in Utah. Apparently God told him the mine would be a safe haven for the believers when the celestial shit hits the fan and it would also be filled with fine jewels and gold.”
“That’s a hell of a dream,” said Robert.
“It gets better. God told him it would take a thousand years to dig the mine, so most of the people who help dig would never see it completed. It didn’t matter though. The guy got investors and started digging. That’s the kind of crazy shit some of these fundamentalists come up with.”
Robert grunted and turned back to his pool game. He sank another ball, banking it off the side, “So, you think Anderson did it then?”
“I’d say I’m still on the fence but I have to wonder whether or not he had some kind of revelation and just wigged out.”
“Kind of like when my bartender decides he needs to make a dreamcatcher for every window of his house?” teased Robert.
“Hey, say what you will, but my bad dreams have stopped.”
“Except for the dreams about demons and coyotes, right?”
J.B. shook his head, “That wasn’t even a bad one. I was having some seriously fucked up ones. Crazy shit. Crazier than that dream mine for sure. Bad memories and shit bubbling up. Last night wasn’t bad but it was too real. Hyper-real. I could smell things, feel things, hear things… I swear what I saw wasn’t in my imagination. It was real.”
The door opened and Javier walked in, dusted in light snow. He ran both hands back and forth through his short hair, flinging moisture off his head and then looked around.
“Well this place is a morgue.”
“Happy fuckin’ New Year,” replied Robert, still playing pool.
“I figured there’d be a couple of people here,” Javier said. He walked over and sat down next to J.B. “How’s it going?”
“You’re looking at it. Want a beer?”
“I’d love one.”
J.B. got up, walked back behind the bar and pulled a Tecate from the cooler. He made his way back to the table and set it in front of Javier.
“J.B. was just telling me all about Mormons and how his dreamcatchers really work,” said Robert.
“That sounds thrilling,” said Javier sarcastically.
“It’s actually kind of interesting. At least the Mormon part is.”
“You know what? If I can’t make money off it, then it ain’t interesting to me,” said Javier. “So no one else has come in tonight?”
“No. This is how it’s been all night. You get hold of everyone?”
“Mostly. Those that I didn’t talk to I left messages for or texted. Even so, I figured I’d swing by and see if anyone was breaking the rules.”
“No,” replied J.B. “It looks like they got the message.”
Robert sunk the last shot, reached under the table for the rack and began gathering the balls.
“How long do you think we need to keep it like this?” he asked.
“Until Anderson is picked up and the heat dies down at his place. I don’t know exactly but I’ll make the call when I feel the time is right.”
Robert nodded and broke the rack. A couple of balls trickled in.
“You find out anything about Reller?” asked Javier.
“What about Reller?” asked J.B.
“Robert saw him leaving the old cemetery last night. Said he walked out the front gate and started heading across the field toward downtown. Didn’t even take the road.”
“That�
��s fucking weird,” replied J.B. He looked over at Robert, “You sure it was him?”
“I couldn’t really see his face but the jacket and ponytail sure looked like him.”
Javier took a pull off his beer, propped his feet up on the table next to him and looked back at Robert, “So you didn’t find out anything more then?”
“I asked Ruth about the cemetery,” Robert answered. “She said they don’t have a caretaker or anything, which is what I figured. She wouldn’t know Reller anyway, so I never asked about him in particular. She seemed surprised anyone would be going in there though, aside from the landscapers.”
Javier grunted, “That fucker’s up to something. I don’t know what it is but if he does something stupid while those cops are around, it’s going to ruin all of this. Especially if he’s doing something in that graveyard. Anderson’s house isn’t but a few hundred yards from there.”
Robert sunk a few more balls and the low sound of the football game played as a background to each man’s thoughts. Finally, Javier stood up, drained his beer and put his hands in his coat pockets.
“How long are you two going to stay here?” he asked.
“Maybe another half hour or so,” replied Robert. “Where are you going?”
“I think I’ll take a ride out to the cemetery.”
“Man, you’re not going to see shit if you go tonight. It’s dark and cold as hell. Why not wait until tomorrow?” asked J.B. “I’ll go with you then. We can have a good look around.”
“Curiosity is killing me,” replied Javier. He turned around and headed to the door.
“Be careful,” called Robert.
“I always am.”
“You think maybe we should pack this operation up and call it finished?” J.B. asked.
Robert shook his head, “No. I think we’re okay. If we did have to pull up stakes though, would you be set enough for a while?”
J.B. nodded, “I’d be alright.”
“Me too.”
J.B. walked over to the pool table as Robert was lining up another shot. He reached down and put a hand on the ball Robert was aiming at.
“If you had to go now, could you do it?”
Robert straightened up, letting the stick slide through his palm until the back of it rested on the floor behind him.
“What do mean? Of course I could.”
“I just mean that while Javier and I are both sticking with the plan, you’ve made yourself a couple of connections here that I’m not sure you could sever if you needed to.”
Robert stiffened, “This is about Cindy isn’t it?”
“Not entirely. You’ve been close to Ruth for a long time. I don’t see you being able to pick up and go like Javier and I can. I think you’ll need to say goodbye, have some closure, that sort of thing. All the kinds of things that get people caught.”
“That’s complete bullshit,” Robert was getting mad now, his skin darkening as the blood rushed to his face. “It was never a problem all these years and you know damn well Ruth and I have been close the whole time. This is about Cindy, plain and simple.”
J.B. remained relaxed but he never took his eyes off of Robert. He leaned against the pool table.
“Does it really matter if it is about Cindy? The fact remains the same. If the shit hit the fan tomorrow, could you leave without any notice and never contact either of them again?”
“I’ve done it before,” Robert answered firmly. “I could do it again.”
The space between the two men felt charged, as if a spark could set it alight. Finally J.B. shrugged and turned back toward the bar, walking slowly.
“I certainly hope so,” he said. “If I were you, I’d go out of my way to dispel any doubts Javier may have. Brothers or not, he’d put a bullet in your head before he’d see all this go to hell.”
Robert watched him for a moment.
“So you didn’t care about her at all?” he asked.
“Sure,” said J.B. “She’s a nice girl, but the world is full of nice girls.”
“Did you break it off because you got too close?”
J.B. thought about it for a moment, “Maybe. That doesn’t mean I want her back though and it doesn’t mean I care if you’re with her. I gave up what I thought I had to in order to keep things where they need to be. I just want to make sure you can do the same thing if it comes down to it.”
Robert picked the pool cue up and readied a shot.
“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I’ll be just fine.”
XIX
Ruth sat in the kitchen chair with the shotgun resting in her lap. Anderson still sat on the kitchen floor, his back against the sink and eyes closed. He had been breathing softly for about five minutes now. Ruth was pretty sure he was asleep. He had never bothered to get to his feet after getting inside the house and Ruth hadn’t been able to get much out of him as far as answers were concerned.
She slipped past him into the living room and picked up the phone by the couch. Dialing 911, she cradled the receiver in her shoulder and raised the shotgun again so it pointed at the kitchen entrance.
“911 emergency. How may we assist you?”
“I have someone the police are looking for in my kitchen,” she spoke softly into the receiver.
“Are you in danger?”
“No, I don’t think so, but someone better get out here quick before he wakes up.”
She gave them her name, address and phone number before getting off the line, then stood and went back to the kitchen. Anderson’s eyes were open again.
“Where did you go?” he asked.
“None of your business.”
“You’ve called the police haven’t you?”
Ruth stayed silent. She kept her eyes and the shotgun on him and sat back down by the kitchen table.
“What was that nonsense you were talking about sacred stones?”
Anderson shook his head gently.
“It’s not nonsense. The stones are real and one of them is a part of this house. That’s why it was important I live here. It’s why I brought my family here.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. I was told by God that I was needed in Ogden Wash. There is a battle coming. It’s the same battle that Joseph Ogden fought in Old Ogden Wash. I was told to bring my family here, live on this plot of land and God would direct me as to His will. We left our home in Wyoming and moved here.”
Ruth studied his face. There was nothing in his expression indicating he was being less than sincere. “So when I wouldn’t sell, what made you stay?”
“I asked God for guidance. I bought the closest piece of land to you I could and I waited for his answer. It’s been years since I heard the call to come here and in those years, God blessed me with a beautiful home and beautiful children. Still, he never answered me when I asked what I should do next. So I continued to wait and we prayed and we honored him in word and deed.”
Ruth listened, still cradling the shotgun, “So why are you running now?”
“Because I could not complete the task I was initially sent for.”
“What task is that?”
Anderson didn’t answer. He just looked at her with that same, beatific smile.
“So has God finally told you what to do?”
“It has become apparent I was to prevent a great evil from spreading.”
“Is that why you killed your family?”
Anderson’s expression darkened, “That was not my family. My family left me, one by one. Each one walked away from me a shining example of the light of the Lord. My family left Ogden Wash.”
“Phillip, the police found the bodies of your family this morning,” Ruth said.
Anderson looked at her coldly, “Those are shells.”
“What do you mean shells?”
“My family walked away from me,” repeated Anderson. “One by one, they walked away from me and each time one came back the person was gone. The vessel was empty. I could see them for the agents of
the devil that they really were. That’s why we needed to be in this house, Ruth. They would have been safe in this house.”
“Phillip, that doesn’t make any sense.”
“You couldn’t know!” Anderson yelled, pounding his fist on the floor. “You couldn’t possibly know what they were! You can’t see them like I do!”
He broke down, tears welling over his lower lids and running down his cheeks.
“The first was Katie,” he started. “She was the one who brought it into the house. At first I couldn’t tell. She still smiled the same. She acted the same. They hide their countenances behind that of their prey but eventually, it cracks. I started to see what is real and what is not.”
He sobbed quietly for a moment.
“If not for God almighty, I would not have had the strength. It looked at me and cried through Katie’s eyes before I pulled the trigger, Ruth. Then it kept crying and talking to me even afterward.”
He looked up at her, eyes red and haunted, “I shot each one, Ruth. First in the heart and then, when they wouldn’t stop talking to me I shot them each in the face.”
“Why, Phillip?” she asked. “Why would they be devils?”
“He got to them,” the man sputtered. “He tempted them to get to me; to stop me.”
“He who?”
Anderson broke down again, sobbing into his hands, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned back against the counter. Silence fell between them like a weight. He remained sobbing on the floor, until the sound of water splashing on wood caught his attention. Ruth instinctively stood up.
“What is that?” he asked.
Ruth kept the gun on him, “Don’t you move. I’ve got something to show you, but I’ll bring it here. So help me though, if you so much as shuffle across this floor, I’ll shoot you.”
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