Ancient Enemy

by Lukens, Mark

  “I used to be a part of Frank’s crew. Then I quit. But then Trevor got involved with them. He ended up owing Frank some money – a lot of money – and I needed to help them with one last job to help Trevor pay him back.”

  Stella nodded.

  “I don’t expect you to believe me; I just wanted to tell you that this was going to be my last time.” Cole thought for a moment. “I was really trying to change. I just wished I would’ve changed a little sooner. Before I got Trevor involved …”

  “I’m sorry,” Stella said in a soft voice. “I’m an only child. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to lose a brother.”

  They were both quiet for a long moment in the murky cabin. They had turned all the lights off except for the light over the stove.

  “How did you get away from that dig site in New Mexico?” Cole asked Stella.

  Stella looked at Cole, trying to determine if there was any accusation in his eyes or in the tone of his voice.

  “You said your vehicles wouldn’t start,” Cole continued. “And then you said that the thing out there was taking your friends one by one.”

  Stella sighed. “Even before I realized that the thing out there wanted David, I began to suspect that there was something … something special about David.” Stella stole a quick glance at David – he was still sleeping peacefully. “When the thing asked the few of us who remained to kill David, I began to believe that it needed us to kill David because it couldn’t do it by itself.”

  “So David is …” Cole thought for a moment, trying to find the right words. “He’s special. Like powerful. Like you think he has powers?”

  “There were only a few of us left,” Stella said in a low voice, looking away from Cole. “And Jake, my friend, he hadn’t been taken yet. But Jake and the others wanted to kill David. They felt like it was their only way out. I tried to convince them that once we gave it what it wanted, it wouldn’t let us go. It would just kill all of us because it wouldn’t need us anymore. But I couldn’t convince them, they had their minds made up, they wanted to kill David. So I took him and I ran to my truck.”

  “And you knew it would start?”

  “Yeah, I had a feeling it would,” Stella answered him. “It was a big gamble, but it was the only choice I had left.” Stella didn’t mention to Cole that she had watched Jake slit his own throat rather than let that thing take him alive.

  They were quiet for a moment.

  Stella thought of the things David had drawn in his book. She needed to take another chance right now, she needed to trust Cole. “I want to show you something else,” she said. “I want to trust you. And I want you to trust me even though I know you don’t have any reason to since I’ve hidden so much until now …”

  “You had to,” Cole said quickly. “I understand why you did it.” Cole thought of her trusting him, and then he thought of the secret he’d kept to himself all this time – the snowmobile in the garage. But who knew if it would even work. The snowmobile could be old or damaged. Or maybe that thing out there knew it was there. Maybe that thing could read minds and had learned of the snowmobile from Cole’s thoughts.

  Cole pushed the thought of the snowmobile out of his mind as Stella turned and carefully pulled the spiral notebook out from under David. She opened the notebook and showed Cole what was inside.

  He took the notebook and flipped through page after page of what looked like some kind of symbols. He wasn’t sure what he was looking at, but it seemed like some kind of ancient language.

  He looked at her, not really understanding what he was looking at.

  “It’s the Anasazi language,” she told him in an awed voice.

  Cole shook his head a little. “David’s been writing in this language?” Cole shrugged his shoulders like it shouldn’t be a big deal. “Isn’t David Native American?”

  “Yes. I’m pretty sure he’s Navajo; most likely full-blooded. But he’s never told me much about himself.”

  “But this Ana … ana …”

  “Anasazi. Like I told you before, they lived hundreds of years ago and then they vanished. No one knows where they went to. Some say they intermingled with other tribes, or even became other tribes. Some say they left the area. Others even speculated that the Anasazi were the remnants of the Maya who also built massive cities and then abandoned them. But no one knows for sure.”

  Cole nodded his head.

  “The Anasazi, like many ancient peoples of North and South America, had no written language, or at least no significant evidence had ever been found.”

  It was beginning to sink in a little to Cole.

  “There have been bits and pieces of Anasazi symbols found, but not much, not enough to get a clear overview of any kind of language. It’s sort of like Egyptian hieroglyphics.”

  Cole nodded; he’d heard of Egyptian hieroglyphics before.

  “I asked David how he learned how to write all of this, but he said he didn’t know.”

  Cole glanced down at the notebook which was filled with page after page of symbols. All this time in the cabin David had been scribbling down these symbols, one after the other. He looked at Stella. “Can you read it?”

  “I can recognize some of the symbols, enough to know that it’s from the Anasazi culture, but I can’t make enough of it out to understand any of it.”

  Cole sighed, thinking this over. “So David definitely has something to do with all of this. He has some kind of powers, he knows about that thing out there.”

  Stella sat up a little, becoming a little excited, her eyes lit up a little in the darkness of the cabin. “The word Anasazi is a Navajo word,” she continued. “A lot of times the word is translated as Ancient Ones. But a more accurate translation is Ancient Enemy.”

  “So the Navajo called this tribe their ancient enemies?” Cole asked.

  “That’s what most scholars believe. But I have a different theory.”

  Cole waited for Stella to continue. He could tell that she was a little excited, archeology was definitely her passion.

  “I believe that Anasazi wasn’t a word that the Navajo used to name the tribe, I believe it’s a word they used to describe the beings that took the Anasazi and caused them to vanish.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  “Like I told you before,” Stella went on, “the Anasazi were a very advanced culture at that time, about seven to eight hundred years ago; they were the most advanced culture in North America. They had no one to fear, yet they built these massive cities right into the sides of cliffs. Why go through all of that work if they were the strongest and most advanced tribe?”

  Cole didn’t answer. He knew he couldn’t keep up with Stella on this level of conversation. He just let her continue.

  “All these years archeologists have always wondered what they were defending themselves from. What were they so afraid of? And after all of that work, what would make them suddenly leave these cities? Or the Maya. Or the Olmecs. Or the Inca. Something drove them out of their cities. Some say it was because of drought or shortage of food supplies, but other tribes stayed in the same regions.”

  Stella took a breath; she had been talking so fast, her voice getting louder. She glanced at David to make sure she hadn’t disturbed him. “There are many legends in Native American cultures about demons that would come in the night and take people. Sometimes these demons would ask for things, offerings. And if these offerings weren’t given to them, then they would take people. And supposedly the only people who could see these demons were the shamans. Like witch doctors.”

  Cole nodded to indicate that he understood what a shaman was.

  “What if David can see that thing out there? What if the reason it wants to kill David is because he’s a shaman – natural-born shaman?”

  Cole just stared at her.

  “Many believe that shamans were people who may have been born with some kind of psychic or telekinetic abilities. And they used these … these skills to wield power over their tribe.”


  “So you think David is a natural shaman? You think he’s psychic or telekinetic?”

  “I think he might be, even though he doesn’t know it yet.”

  Stella looked at the front door with the recliner in front of it. She looked back at Cole.

  “I don’t know what that thing is out there. A demon? I don’t know. The Native American legends of demons predate Christianity. An alien? Who knows? There are many theories of visitations by aliens to cultures in North, Central, and South America. The Nazca Plains. The Hopi Indian rituals. The sacrifices at the temples in the Maya culture may have not been religious ceremonies to their gods. What if they were offerings to that thing out there through the years? Maybe that thing out there only comes around every few hundred years. What if a day to it is a hundred years to us, and a night of sleeping to it is a hundred years?” Stella had been talking so fast, she stopped and stared into Cole’s eyes where she could see doubt and confusion.

  “So you think that thing out there might be an alien? Like from outer space? Like from a UFO?”

  “Maybe they’ve been here for a long, long time,” she said quickly. “Even before human civilization. I know it sounds far-fetched, but look around you. You’ve seen what that thing can do.”

  Cole only nodded.

  “I think that thing out there may roam the Earth, unseen and unfelt by most. But then every once in a while someone like David comes along; someone who can see it, feel it, maybe even fight it.”

  Suddenly, Cole became a little excited. He could see a glimmer of hope, a small dot of light at the end of this long horrible tunnel they were in. “So you’re saying that we can get David to kill this thing?”

  “I don’t know if it’s that easy.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “David may be a natural-born shaman, but he’s still just a boy. He’s had no training. He may not even know what to do.”

  “Great,” Cole said and sighed. “Then I guess we’re back to square one. We try and run in the morning.”

  “It may be all we can do for now,” Stella told him. “But we need to protect David. That’s the most important thing.”

  Cole leaned back against the couch and let out another long sigh. He looked at Stella who yawned again. “Why don’t you get an hour’s rest? I know you need it. I’ll stand guard for a little while.”

  Stella nodded. “I’ll try. Wake me up if you hear anything.”

  “I will. Just try and get some rest. Tomorrow morning may be very stressful.”

  *

  Almost three hours later everything was still quiet outside. Cole hadn’t heard a single sound from out there, not even the wind.

  He sat near the kitchen in the only dining room chair that they hadn’t broken apart and used as wood for the barricades over the windows. He watched Stella and David. Both of them were asleep, both of them breathing heavily.

  Cole watched them for a while. He needed to make sure they were asleep.

  He got to his feet, being as quiet as he could.

  He looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. It would be dawn very soon.

  He knew what he needed to do now.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Cole opened the refrigerator. He had rummaged around in here for some food earlier. They had eaten a lot of it so far. But he had seen something earlier that he thought he could use – a can of soda in the bottom drawer underneath a head of wilted lettuce. He took out the can of soda from the crisper drawer and set it on the counter next to the stove. It was a cheap brand of cola. But it didn’t matter to him because he wasn’t going to drink it.

  He peeked into the living room.

  Stella and David were both still asleep.

  Cole looked back at the stove. It was a gas stove. He lifted up the top and blew out the pilot light. He lowered the lid carefully, trying not to make a sound. Once the lid was back down, he turned on all of the burners and the oven. He could already smell the rotten egg smell of gas coming out of the burners.

  He grabbed the can of soda from the counter and shook it up. Then he opened the microwave oven and set the can inside. He closed the door and set the timer on the microwave for thirty minutes. The digital numbers began counting down from twenty-nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds. Fifty-eight seconds. Fifty-seven seconds. After thirty minutes the microwave oven would start and heat up the can of soda. The numbers counted down like a ticking time bomb in a movie.

  Because this was a bomb.

  Cole looked into the living room; he watched Stella and David as they slept while he slipped his coat on. He could feel the stacks of money in his coat pockets that he’d stuffed earlier; the metal case of money, now about half full, still sat on the floor in front of his chair. He had also stuffed some packs of money into his socks and a few in his pants pockets. There was no way he could carry all of the money, but he guessed he must’ve had close to a hundred thousand dollars on him.

  This was his share of the money, his mind whispered. And Trevor’s. This was his starting over money.

  At least he hoped he would have a chance to start over.

  But first he needed to get out of this place alive.

  Cole slid his hands into his thin leather gloves and he glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was almost six o’clock in the morning.

  And Frank and the others haven’t even tried to attack yet, Cole thought. Why? What were they waiting for?

  They are waiting for you, his mind whispered to him again. They are waiting to see what you will do, waiting to see if you will follow instructions and kill the boy.

  Cole grabbed the flashlight he had set on the counter earlier and he walked as quietly as he could to the front door. He unlocked the deadbolt and the clicking noise sounded loud in the silent night, but he didn’t even bother to turn around and look at Stella and David if they were waking up now. What could he do now? He didn’t have the time to explain his actions or motives now because the clock was already ticking down to zero – down to detonation.

  He slid the recliner out of the way and unlocked the door handle. He opened the door up to the freezing air, and then he slipped out into the pre-dawn darkness and closed the door behind him.

  *

  Stella opened her eyes and she watched Cole slip outside and close the door. It was a surreal moment for her as her mind drifted back to a similar scenario for her when she had slipped out into the night from the trailer at the dig site in New Mexico and ran outside for David.

  She turned and looked at David. She thought about waking him up, but she didn’t. Let him sleep some more; he needed his rest; he needed to be at his strongest in a little while when they made their escape.

  She had read Cole wrong, she realized that now. She had believed that he was really going to stick around and help them. But she should’ve known better. He was a criminal and no matter how much he said he was going to change, he couldn’t do it. He was still just a criminal.

  She looked into the kitchen at the single dining room chair that was left. Cole had been sitting in it, she guessed, because one of the metal cases of money was on the floor. It was open, and even from here in the living room she could see that some of the stacks of money were gone.

  She thought about taking some of that money. A pack or two could help her and David get far away from all of this.

  She had decided not to go to her aunt’s house. What would she do if this thing followed them up there? What would she do if it took her aunt and then sent her aunt back as a hollowed-out husk that asked for things in a gravelly voice?

  Or maybe this thing would try a different approach next time. Maybe it would tear her aunt apart piece by piece; her aunt would scream and beg Stella to help her, to kill David so this thing would stop hurting her.

  Stella closed her eyes for a moment and tried to push the terrible vision out of her mind. No, she couldn’t risk hurting her aunt or anyone else that she knew. She needed some of that stolen money so they could run and fi
nd somewhere safe.

  Stella got up and she hurried through the murky cabin and crouched down in front of the open case of money. So many stacks of money inside – one hundred dollar bills collected into a brick of money wrapped in plastic. Stacks and stacks of the plastic bricks of money. She was about to grab one of them, and then she thought of the old man who had been killed in the bank robbery. The one Cole said Needles had killed. This was blood money. A man had died for this money.

  And many had died since then.

  But she couldn’t let that get to her, she needed to protect David, and she needed some of this money to take him somewhere safe, a place where he could grow up and become strong. Maybe she could find someone who could help them, a shaman or Medicine man who could train David to harness his powers.

  That might mean going back to the Navajo reservation, back to where they had come from, back to where all of this had started.

  But what else could she do?

  She rolled up her pants legs and grabbed a few stacks of the money. She stuffed the money down into her socks and then rolled her pants legs back down to her hiking boots. She stuffed more stacks of money into the waistband of her pants. She took a few more stacks so she could stuff them into her coat pockets.

  And then she glanced into the kitchen and saw the numbers on the microwave oven that sat on the counter. The numbers were moving; counting down.

  And now she could smell the odor of gas coming from the stove.

  And that’s when she heard the thump from the freezer.

  She jumped up to her feet and stared into the kitchen at the freezer against the far wall. The lid bumped again; it opened just a bit and then thumped back down.

  “Oh God,” Stella whispered.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Cole stepped off the porch and his boots sank down into the snow. He had his gun in his coat pocket, but he didn’t take it out; he wasn’t even sure it would do any good anymore, yet he still felt better knowing that it was there.

  He scanned the snowy field and the dark blob of trees with his eyes, but he couldn’t see much in the darkness. The moon was already setting low in the sky behind the trees, but even with the scattering of clouds across the night sky, he could see a little bit into the darkness. He didn’t turn on the flashlight yet, he would wait until he was inside the garage to use it. He didn’t know if using the flashlight would attract this thing out here, but he had a feeling that it didn’t matter either way – this thing knew he was out here now, he was sure of it; he could practically feel it watching him, waiting to see what he was going to do.