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Whispers in the Dark

Page 5

by Chris Eboch


  I nodded. “It feels like you could know this land in a way you can’t ever know a city like Boston, even if you know every street. Maybe because things change too fast in the city, but not here.”

  Sean chuckled. “No, here it takes decades just to get a road paved. But you’re right, that’s part of the charm.”

  We finished the loop near the ruin called Falling House, the one on an outcropping split off from the canyon rim by a five-foot gap. “Are you going to do any work here?” Sean asked.

  “At this building?” I gazed at the walls across the gap. “No. It’s great, I’d love to study it, but my work will be in the storehouses.”

  “They’re easier to get to, anyway. Here you’d have to climb up the cliffs.”

  “Or build a bridge.” I smiled at Sean. It was nice to spend time with a guy who was smart, easy-going, and funny. I was glad I’d taken the chance. Maybe I wasn’t quite as scarred as I had feared. Maybe I was even ready to move forward. I wondered what the future would hold and felt a tingle of anticipation.

  Chapter 7

  We neared the trail to the campground. Sean cleared his throat and gestured to a bench. “Care to sit for a minute?”

  I nodded. We sat and gazed out over the canyon—the shadow-filled crevasse, the silhouettes of ruins scattered along the path, and the distant mesas turning rosy in the evening sun.

  “Are you finding anything to do in the evenings?” Sean asked.

  “I’ve only had one. But I’m looking forward to watching the sunsets and seeing the ruins by moonlight.” I grinned. “Maybe keeping an eye out for ghosts or aliens.”

  Sean frowned. “Be careful at night. You should stay away from the canyon after dark.”

  Geez, they acted like the place really was full of ghosts or aliens or archaeologist-eating monsters.

  Sean took my hand. I studied the scenery and focused on breathing.

  “Kylie....”

  I turned and gazed into his intense green eyes. He brushed my cheek lightly with his free hand. Then he leaned in and kissed me.

  Maybe he sensed my tension; he started slow. I tried to stop thinking and enjoy the sensation of warm lips on mine. He stroked a hand up my back and feathered kisses over my cheek and neck. I felt myself relax, like slipping into a warm bath, and when his mouth came back to mine, I met him eagerly. The kiss set off a kind of trembling I hadn’t felt in months—a good kind.

  When he eased back I let out a long sigh. I could enjoy this again. That was good to know.

  Sean said, “Damn. I wish I didn’t have to go.”

  “You need to leave?” Disappointment warred with relief.

  “Afraid so. I have to be somewhere tonight and I’m already running late. You’re too damn tempting.” He gave me another gentle kiss. “I’ll see you soon?”

  “I hope so.”

  “I can’t tomorrow. Maybe Thursday. You have a phone?”

  “Yes, but it doesn’t get reception very well out here, and I’m keeping it off so I don’t have to worry about charging so often.” I thought of the visitors center, but I didn’t want romantic messages left there. “You can text me, though. I’ll try to check messages a couple of times a day.”

  “Tell you what,” he said. “You get some work done tomorrow. We’ll go out Thursday, about five. I’ll buy you a good meal and we can see a movie. And... maybe I shouldn’t suggest this. I don’t want you to take it wrong, but if you’re ready for a hot shower, we can stop by my apartment first thing.” He grinned. “Purely a selfless and generous offer, I promise.”

  “You mean you want a clean date. That is tempting.” I decided not to commit to the shower until I’d had time to consider. “Okay, we’ll call it a provisional plan. Text me if anything changes.”

  He programmed my number into his phone. “Shall I escort you back to the campground?”

  “No, I’ll sit here a few more minutes. But thanks.”

  “You’re not planning to do any work tonight, I hope?”

  “No. I just don’t feel like heading back yet.” And I didn’t want a romantic goodbye in front of the camp host, a known gossip.

  He stood and laid a hand on my shoulder. “Just stay out of the canyon at night. You could stumble on a snake or scorpion, slip on a rock and break your ankle....”

  I sighed. “I know. I’ll be careful.”

  “I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself. But the dangers here are different from in the city, and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

  I smiled up at him. “I’ll just stay here five minutes and then go back to my campsite. Lunch is wearing off anyway.”

  He cupped my cheek in his hand. “All right. I’ll see you soon.”

  After he left, I stared at the scenery and tried to make sense of my feelings. I wouldn’t fool myself into thinking this was some big love affair, but I’d had a good time, and I hadn’t humiliated myself by having hysterics when he kissed me. I was proving something to myself.

  I frowned. Was I using Sean? What if he took this more seriously than I did?

  I shrugged. You couldn’t plan a relationship from the first date. Maybe my feelings would change. Maybe he didn’t expect anything more than a few casual dates. Of course, men almost always did expect—or at least want—sex even if their emotions were casual. I couldn’t even blame them, since it was a biological urge. Well, if Sean wanted sex right away, I’d tell him what had happened to me. He’d either slow down or disappear entirely. Problem solved.

  I closed my eyes and tipped my head back. A bird chirped and rustled in the trees and then went silent. The air lay warm and heavy. The whole canyon seemed still, waiting.

  It should have been relaxing, but I felt a prickle on the back of my neck. I shivered and opened my eyes, glancing around quickly. No one in sight. So why did I have the sudden feeling I was being watched?

  Nerves. I sighed. I still couldn’t tell the difference between solid warning instincts and unreasonable panic. Regardless, the peaceful mood had been broken. I jumped when something shook the bushes nearby. Time to head back to my campsite, where I had privacy within shouting distance of people.

  I was halfway to the campground when I heard a low rumble. I paused, senses on alert. Then I blew out a breath and relaxed. Since when did I jump at a car engine starting—a sound I wouldn’t even notice in the city? The sound softened to a steady hum and faded as the car moved away. I realized I hadn’t heard Sean’s vehicle earlier, so that was probably him. He must have stopped at the campground restroom or something.

  As I turned down the path to the campground, my stomach grumbled, and I debated the ease of granola bars and fruit versus the satisfaction of a hot meal. I decided I might as well set up my camp stove. I’d be camping for weeks, and woman could not survive on snack food alone, so I might as well start a good habit.

  The smell of grilled meat drifted past me. I inhaled deeply and my stomach growled louder. I spotted the old couple at the host site. The man stood over a raised metal grill as the woman came out of the camper with a pack of buns and an armload of condiments. She waved the hand with the buns and called out. “You made it back!”

  “I sure did.” I had to smile. She talked like I’d been on a dangerous cross-country trek.

  She dropped her food on the table and came toward me, holding out her hand. “We didn’t meet properly before. Lily West.” The name Lily didn’t fit her low, gravelly voice, mannish haircut, and square jaw. I wondered whether she had been slim and graceful in her youth. “That’s my husband, Robert,” she added. He raised his tongs in salute.

  “Kylie Hafford.”

  She beamed. “The archaeologist. I wasn’t expecting such a cute young thing.”

  She obviously meant well, so I just smiled and said, “I’m older than I look.”

  “Stay to dinner.” She took my arm to lead me to the table, as if the matter were settled. When I hesitated, she said, “We always have plenty.”

  I glanced at t
he grill and gaped at the huge number of hot dogs, probably two dozen. I never ate hot dogs at home, but they smelled heavenly and my stomach demanded food now. “All right. Thank you.”

  I tried to think of something else to say, but Lily didn’t need much help. “We like this job because we get to meet people. We travel around the country, staying for a month or a few at different sites. It’s a great way to see places and meet new people. And it’s cheap! Some of the popular sites are booked up years in advance, but we like the small ones anyway, don’t we, Robert?”

  He didn’t bother to answer, and she didn’t wait. “We’ve been here six weeks. It’s getting a little warm now, but—” She broke off and waved. “Come on in! Don’t be afraid, this is just our new friend, Kylie.”

  More company? I turned to see two children, maybe ages three and six, hovering at the edge of the trees. I thought they were both boys, though with their shaggy hair and dirty faces it was hard to tell. Lily pulled out hot dog buns and squirted them with ketchup and mustard, then jumped up and hurried to the grill. Robert placed hot dogs in the buns without glancing in the direction of the children.

  Lily carried the hot dogs to the kids, who hadn’t moved. “You want to take some to your folks?” she asked. The older boy shook his head, his suspicious gaze still on me. He took the hot dogs and led his little brother back into the trees. They hadn’t said a word.

  Lily sat down with a sigh. “Poor little mites. At least we know they’re getting fed.”

  “Who are they?”

  “Their parents have the last campsite back in that corner. Out of work—I got that much from the mother, though she’s a mousy little thing and almost as quiet as her boys. They haven’t paid their campground fee in a couple of weeks, but we haven’t had the heart to say anything.”

  “But why are they here?”

  Lily shrugged. “Too proud to go to a shelter, I suppose. It’s quiet here this time of year.”

  I guessed that was the man I’d seen the morning before, but Lily changed the subject, talking about the other people in the campground. Some she barely knew, if they’d just arrived, though it sounded like she did her best to get a full family history of everyone. I had assumed the campground would be impersonal, a group of strangers only loosely tied by proximity, like an apartment building where you nodded to your neighbors in passing but didn’t know their names. Instead I’d stumbled into an odd little community.

  Of course, it didn’t take long for Lily’s curiosity to turn on me.

  I answered her questions about school and my research without hesitation. She surprised me into admitting that I had been engaged, but that it’d ended six months ago.

  “So you don’t have a young man waiting for you back in Boston?” she asked.

  “No, no one is waiting for me. Anywhere.”

  Lily gave me a significant look. “So you’re free, if a nice young man should happen to come along out here.”

  I was trying to think how to answer when her husband spoke for almost the first time. “Don’t mind her. She likes to meddle. It’s, what do you call it, living vicariously.”

  Lily burst into low guffaws worthy of Santa Claus.

  I smiled and decided that was a good time to take my leave. “I don’t mind. But I’d better head back to my own campsite. Thanks for dinner.” I slid off the bench.

  “Oh, don’t run away,” Lily said. “You must get bored and lonely over there by yourself, and you can’t tell me it’s bedtime yet.”

  It didn’t feel like bedtime, and I already knew how challenging it was trying to read in the light of a small battery-powered lantern while lying in my sleeping bag. But I’d had all the company I could take for one day. “I’m going to go to the visitors center and do some work. I got a late start today. But thanks again!”

  Once I’d had the idea, I liked it. I could fill my evening and make up for slacking off earlier. I’d have light and a comfortable chair. I could take a look at the slides I’d prepared at the storehouses and see whether I was getting anything of interest. That would help me target the next day’s work.

  Darkness had fallen by the time I gathered my microscope and slides plus the paperwork I needed to finish. I held the box of equipment awkwardly in one arm so I could carry a flashlight in my other hand and took the path through the woods. When I got to the parking lot, I glanced up. Stars seemed to be blinking on, more every few seconds. I turned off my flashlight and watched until a kind of vertigo made me sway. Our planet really was just a speck in the universe. But what a universe it was!

  The night breeze caressed my face. The wind shook the trees, making the forest sound alive. But the sound didn’t frighten me the way a single rustling in a bush did. The trees were not my enemies. An owl hooted, a lonely sound that sent a thrill rippling up my spine. I could almost hear the canyon calling me, whispering of mystery and romance. This wasn’t an opportunity to pass up.

  I left the box by the door and walked to the canyon, entranced by the night. I wouldn’t be foolish enough to go exploring, but I wanted to stand on the rim and let the atmosphere soak in. I paused several feet back from the rim and let the night air wash over me as I listened to the breeze whisper in the trees.

  Or was it the breeze? It sounded like human voices, faint and ghostly. But I didn’t believe in ghosts. It had to be something else.

  I studied the darkness, straining my ears to locate the sound. A light flicked on a hundred yards away. It moved briefly and I could see the outline of a crumbled wall. Somebody was in one of the ruins.

  I took a few steps forward and then stopped. I should do something, but what? If I really was hearing voices, that suggested at least two people. It was probably just some kids exploring or one of those crystal worshipers Danesh had mentioned. But what if it wasn’t someone so harmless? I couldn’t imagine what thieves would be doing here, where everything valuable and portable had already been removed, but I knew some sites attracted bandits and they could be armed and dangerous.

  I didn’t want to confront strangers alone. Danesh and Jerry were long gone and miles away. The old couple at the host site was supposed to keep an eye on things at night, but I didn’t want to drag them into something potentially dangerous. I didn’t know anyone else in the campground.

  I could get closer and start waving my light around and calling out to try to scare them, but that might backfire. If they were kids, they might try to escape down the canyon, where they could get hurt. I could wait and try to get a look at them when they left, but the wind was already raising goosebumps on my skin, and I’d foolishly neglected to bring a sweater. I’d be fine when moving, but standing around in the cold night air did not appeal. And if I went back to my campsite for another layer, chances were they’d have moved on before I returned.

  I watched for another minute and then reluctantly decided it might be better to do nothing. A confrontation could lead to injury, and I didn’t have the authority to do more than scold them anyway. I sighed and turned back toward the visitors center.

  I let myself in and flicked on the lights, then carried my box of equipment to the counter. The two small windows here were black squares. No need for heavy curtains to keep out the glare of streetlights. But if someone looked in, they’d be able to see me and I probably wouldn’t be able to see them. A gust of wind rattled the windows. The floor creaked when I shifted my weight. And yet the building seemed too quiet. I was still more at home with the rumble of traffic and voices outside my window.

  “There’s no need to get jumpy.” My voice sounded strange, but I kept speaking aloud. “Your anxiety is just a reaction to triggers. It’s all right to be afraid, but that doesn’t mean you are really in danger.” The now-familiar calming technique helped settle me. I couldn’t always control my emotions or my body’s sensations, but I could control my behavior. The old “mind over matter” worked—sometimes—once you’d had training.

  I could more easily convince myself I was safe if I made sure I was
protected, so I crossed the room and locked the front door. Then I went into the back room and fixed a cup of tea, trying to clear my mind by focusing closely on that mundane task. Finally I settled down to work.

  As always, the work helped. I quickly got so caught up that I forgot everything except what I saw through the microscope.

  Something jolted me back to awareness. I lifted my head and listened. What had I heard?

  Probably nothing. Normal night sounds. They just weren’t normal to me.

  Or maybe whoever had been in the ruin was leaving. A glance at the clock showed me that over an hour had passed, which seemed a long time for anyone to be poking around in ruins, but if it was them, maybe I could get a look. I went to one of the small windows and looked out, but with the glare from the inside light and the darkness outside, I couldn’t see much. I crossed to the door and hesitated. Should I stick my head out and check? Or stay safely inside?

  My hand hovered over the door handle. I couldn’t hide away forever. Sometimes you have to face your fears.

  Pounding rattled the door. I jumped back with a gasp.

  A voice outside yelled, “Help! Let us in!”

  Chapter 8

  “Damn it! Kylie!” The voice was low and rough, that of a man—or Lily West.

  I fumbled for the door handle and pulled open the door. Lily pushed past me, dragging someone behind her. “Close the door,” she said between gasping breaths.

  I closed and locked it, then turned to stare at the little group huddled in the center of the room—Lily, holding the younger boy from dinner, and a thin woman clutching the hand of the older child. The children stared with enormous eyes but didn’t move or make a sound. Soft sobbing came from the woman.

  “The phone,” Lily said. “Call 911.”

  I crossed to the counter. “What’s happened? Is someone hurt?”

  “Not yet,” Lily said. “We need the police.”

  My hand shook as I dialed, and I clutched the receiver so hard my fingers hurt. I heard myself give my name and our location as if listening to someone else from a distance.

 

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