by K. H. Pope
“Quiet,” Willa Harlow snaps with a raised index finger.
After a few minutes, she turns and walks over to the bathroom door. She touches the knob and opens it.
“This was the last place she stood before leaving this house,” Willa reveals. “She left through...the bathroom?”
Inspector Renald remarks, “She turned the bathroom into a transfer room.” He brings out a folded notepad and reads aloud, “She exited into Dumas, Texas.”
“Where in Dumas?” Willa asks as she goes over to the Inspector.
“The Rillo Grand Hotel,” he says. “Her travelling reads as such: Texas, Louisiana, Texas, Hawaii, back to Louisiana, and then Texas again.”
“Hawaii is out of sorts? Why did she go there?” Willa asks curiously.
“Don’t know, but she entered through the airport in Hilo.”
“We need to go to Dumas since that was her last stop,” she remarks.
Inspector Renald glares at Ammon as he walks out of the room with Willa close behind.
Ammon is fearful of what the Inspector will do to Alice. That man is a methodical, cunning, and is capable of real damage. And the problem with President Oliver wanting the wing stumps is another major issue for Ammon, and he knows Alice will not back down, no matter whose she’s up against. Ammon is now waiting for the appropriate time to get involved and to prove to Alice he’s always been on her side.
CHAPTER 32
I’ve driven to a park ten minutes east of Dumas. I got out of that town because I didn’t want the local cops finding me and with charges of murder being filed with the Magi Elite Judiciary International Division, I’m sure Inspector Renald and his cop friends are on my tail now, too.
But I’m not giving up. I’ve drawn a half decent plan in my head as to what to do next. I want to visit Mayor Conrad Freland of Cactus, but he will have bodyguards protecting him. I need him to translate the book. Maybe, I should have followed through with him the moment I broke his bones, questioned him when he was down instead of running away. After all, I did get the book from his daughter, from her car at his house, and I get the feeling he will understand what’s in the book and be able to undo the dimension traps. I have no choice.
Just as I’m about to start the truck, I remember the lady from the museum. I was going to ask her about the book, but she ran me off. She knew what it was. That’s it. I have to go the Nottowon Reservation. It has to be pretty close by. If I can find them, then I can get someone there to translate the book. If it reveals to me who’s done this, I can go straight to that person, and if it turns out to be the mayor, I’m sure he’ll be more open to setting them free, since he knows exactly what I’m capable of.
I grab my cell phone and bring up the internet browser. After finding a map website, I type in: Nottowon Reservation. The map comes up with a blinking green pin pointing in the middle of the desert. Their land is highlighted, and from what I can tell, it is a 90 minute drive southwest of Dumas.
I wonder if I’ll be welcomed there, especially after the librarian ran me out of their museum earlier today. The last thing I want to do is intrude. I type in the tribal name once more into a search engine, and the first link is the official website for the tribe. I click on it, and there’s a slide show that shows the Nottowon people doing different things. On the side of the webpage, a contact link is highlighted. I select it, and a form page comes up. It takes a bit for me to fill out because of the small screen on the phone, but I get it done. I’m hoping my catchy message about the book will get a quick reply and an invite, as well.
After I’m finished, I turn on the radio and lean back in my seat. The desert has faint sounds of dogs barking and coyotes yacking. The sky is covered with a blanket of clouds hiding the stars. There are faint lights in the very far distant landscape. This has turned out to be the perfect spot to rest.
The music plays for almost another twenty minutes before it stops a nervous news announcer comes on the radio.
“This is WTXT in Amarillo, Texas. I’m Jim Rex. Within the past 24 hours, there has been serious terrorist threats made across the United States by the Fellowship. These threats are not to be taken lightly or as a joke. The Fellowship has caused the destruction of skyscrapers in major cities in the past, disrupted service to gas stations, and has slowed commerce here stateside to almost a crawl. The Texas State Rangers and all local police and sheriff departments ask that all people are to remain indoors today and all day tomorrow. If you’re caught out after 10:00 P.M. this evening, which is the start of the blanket curfew across the state of Texas, you will be considered a threat. There will be no warning shots and no second chances. So, listeners, please, do not come out into public until after the curfew is lifted. Medical emergencies should be absolutely life threatening. I will remain on the air, giving updates every chance I get. So stay tuned. We’ll be right back.”
A commercial comes on, and I turn down the volume. It’s weird to see the world at a standstill, or at least, Texas. I don’t believe in all my days as a guardian angel and the small amount of time I’ve walked the planet as a human that I’ve felt so much fear of the unknown to the point life seems to stop. It’s maddening. Whoever Kahn is, the person that controls the Fellowship, must be truly a powerful person.
My cell phone rings, startling me from my thoughts. It’s Tip. I don’t want to answer it, but I’m interested in knowing what he found out, if anything.
Before I can say hello, he asks, “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay, just taking a minute for myself.”
“I tried to access the information about Folly Whitcomb. I can’t access his files. As a matter of fact, I can’t access anyone’s files anymore. I think the Magi Elite has put up a firewall.”
“Throw water on it,” I remark.
“I wish,” he says. “And I haven’t found anything in common between all those missing people. It’s not coming together for me.”
“I found out that they all came up missing during nights of a full moon.”
“A strange connection, but what does it mean?”
“I wish I knew. Thanks for trying, Tip.”
“I’ll keep at it, Alice. I’ll look into the full moon disappearance angle, also.”
“Thanks. Hey, include the Nottowon Indians in the search, as well. Call me if you find something. Okay?”
“You got it,” he says. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, you can.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” I answer.
“You don’t sound like it.”
“I promise I’m okay. I’ll talk to you soon.”
I hang up the phone before he can ask another question, but it chirps before I can set it down. There’s a message from Priscilla. I’m surprised she’s contacting me. The message reads:
Meet me at Tumbleweed Motel
US 87 at S County Line Road
15 minutes west of Dumas
Room 104. 6:30 p.m.
Will bring a polyglot.
I have to seriously think about this. Right now, I don’t trust Ammon, and Priscilla works for him. Of course, that doesn’t mean she can’t be trusted. She did nurse me back to health, and she did save me from the fire. I can’t pass up this opportunity. My request sent to the Nottowon Tribe might not work out in my favor, and I don’t want to go back to Priscilla begging to see this linguist later on.
But there’s one nagging thing in the back of my mind. What if her father is making her do this only to gain favor with me? Ultimately, to get his hands on my wing stumps. It’s a chance I have to take, but I will hide the traps and the police reports. I know exactly where I can take them.
CHAPTER 33
It’s not dark yet, and I’m nervous about travelling the open road. It’s just after six so the curfew isn’t really up yet. The entire trip, I’m checking the mirrors, making sure no one is following me; witch, wizard, warlock, human, or otherwise. When I get to the Tumbleweed Motel, I breathe a h
eavy sigh of relief, but I take precautions and park behind a low standing billboard across the street from it. I get out and scan the place for Inspector Renald and local cops. If I see them, I’m getting out of there as quickly and as quietly as possible.
My first impression of the motel isn’t much. It’s a layover at a crossroad that offers a gas station, a billboard with no advertisement, a souvenir shop, and a motel. Everything about this place speaks of seediness. Truckers like to spend their time here. I can tell from the numerous semi-trucks that are lined up beside the motel. Women surround the lobby door and stand in the parking lot wearing hardly anything, even though it’s on the cooler side of the early evening. Everything seems outwardly normal so far, at least for a place like this.
Usually, I can feel danger, but I don’t get that sense here. Inspector Renald may still be getting his friends together, or maybe, they’re just lying in wait. I guess I’ll find out one way or another.
I grab the book, lock up the truck, and cross the intersection diagonally to the motel. I go up to the window of room 104, and I see Priscilla talking to an older gentleman. He might work for the Magi Elite as a cop. I have to give them a chance, but I do get my mind set for a fight. I knock on the door.
It swings open. The man is standing and watching me with anticipation. I glance inside before going in, and I stand out of the way to let Priscilla close the door.
“Alice,” she begins. “This is Professor Gaël Babineaux. He is the world’s most leading polyglot.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says, offering his hand.
“Sorry, Professor, I don’t shake hands.”
“It’s no problem,” he says.
I’m not getting one bad vibe from this gentleman. As a matter of fact, he’s a normal human being. My mind is at ease.
Priscilla remarks, “Inspector Renald is looking for you using a human tracker.”
“You’ve cloaked us?” I ask.
“Yes,” she answers. “But it’s only good for when I’m around you.”
“Thanks, Priscilla.”
“Is that the book?” Professor Babineaux asks.
“Yes, sir,” I say as I hand it to him.
He gently places it on the table and opens it to the first page. He begins to study the symbols carefully.
“Hand me my satchel, Priscilla.”
She rushes over to the bed and picks up a brown leather bag. She hands it to him, and he reaches in and grabs a computer tablet. He starts typing on the glass, and a screen comes up showing different hieroglyphs from different cultures around the world. The professor continues his research for what seems like forever. When he does finally finishes, he sits back with a smile.
“This is so wonderful,” he happily comments.
“What does the book say?” I ask.
He pushes it across the table to me and says as he points to the first symbol, “Tell me what you see.”
I look at it and answer, “A shape.”
“What kind of shape?”
“It’s not exactly round. It’s just a glob, nothing really, inside of a square.”
Professor Babineaux turns to Priscilla and asks, “What do you see?”
She moves next to me and looks at the page.
“I see what looks like a blob with jagged edges with no square.”
“I see uneven lines,” he says, “like a barcode, no block. We all see something different. This book is meant to be read and understood by certain individuals. Alice, where did you get this from?”
“I stole it,” I flatly admit.
Professor Babineaux is almost jumping out of his seat as he continues, “The person that you stole it from will more than likely understand what the hieroglyphs mean. This book was meant for him and others like him.”
“You don’t understand the symbols?”
“It’s not meant for me to understand.”
“I have to take this to the Nottowon Tribe,” I comment with disappointment.
Professor Babineaux shakes his head and says, “They will not be able to read it, either.”
“Why would anyone create this?” I ask.
“To keep a secret, of course,” Professor Babineaux answers. “If you do not want anyone to know what you’re doing, but it must be documented, then you create a book like this.”
Priscilla asks pointedly, “What kind of secret is worth hiding?”
“That is the prime question, isn’t it?” he answers.
“Do you think the tribe would know why this book was created?” I ask him.
“One of them will definitely know,” Professor Babineaux says as he puts on his glasses. “Someone in that tribe wrote this book.”
“Thank you, Professor,” I remark. “I appreciate your help.”
“I appreciate you letting me take a look at this book. Do you think I can take pictures of its pages?”
“Go ahead,” I tell him.
Priscilla and I step aside to give him room and light.
“How have you been holding up?” Priscilla asks me.
“Alright, I guess.”
“Any closer to finding the person that made the trap?”
“I can only hope. Will you thank Ammon for sending the Professor?”
“I sure will. Be careful, Alice. Inspector Renald is going to do all he can to find you. There’s a warrant out for your arrest.”
“I’ll worry about him when I see him.”
Professor Babineaux hands me the book and happily thanks me.
I’m about to walk out, but then I have a thought. I ask Priscilla, “By the way, what kind of power does Inspector Renald has?”
“He can block some supernatural attacks, but only if he knows it’s coming. Sometimes, he can absorb them, depending upon what it is. He’s very good at what he does, Alice. So, don’t underestimate him.”
I nod and say my good-byes to the Professor and Priscilla. I rush across the road to the truck and head south towards the Nottowon Reservation. Whether or not they want to see me, I’m going anyway. I feel like they are my last hope at finding the answers to the book.
CHAPTER 34
Thirty minutes into my drive my thoughts are interrupted by a growing sense that someone is coming towards me. Actually, I sense several people. The desert is blanketed with darkness. Not a soul to be seen anywhere, but I know there are witches and wizards out there.
Suddenly, a figure appears on the edge of my headlights, and I slam on the brakes. The truck jerks and stops crooked only inches away from the person.
It’s Inspector Renald. He has his hands in his pockets, standing with poise. My heart is racing. How did he find me, but then I remember what Priscilla said. He has a tracker with him.
“Alice, get out of the truck,” he calmly demands.
I look around. A dozen or more witches and wizards are literally appearing or walking up to where I can see them. There’s no way I can take on all of them. I have no choice but to do as he says.
I go to the front of the truck. They’ve moved in closer. My nerves are on end. I don’t want to attack Inspector Renald because that would leave me open for attack from the others. I try to appear calm.
“Where is the book?” Inspector Renald asks.
“What book?” I say with a smile.
There’s a woman in a red skirt suit to my right, and a man in blue jeans and a black shirt standing to my left. They are not as powerful as the inspector, but I’m sure they can do their fair share of damage.
“Check inside the truck,” Inspector Renald instructs a guy with a goatee.
Within seconds, he’s in and out. The goatee wearing wizard walks over to the Inspector and hands him the book. He opens it, looks over it quickly, and then puts it under his arm.
“I believe I have everything,” Inspector Renald remarks as he signals to a woman in black.
She hands him a familiar thick envelope. My heart sinks to my stomach. How did they find it? Who is this person that can follow people
’s trail like that?
“The book, the police reports, and two dimension traps,” he says triumphantly.
I can’t believe he found them. I breathlessly ask, “Did you hurt him?”
“Why would you leave this information with a child?”
“I asked you a question!”
Just as Inspector Renald is about to say something to the goatee wizard, a horn sounds off in the far distance. It echoes and blares enough to shake us all where we stand. Everyone turn to look up the road. Headlights are getting closer and moving unbelievably fast. Fear overrides the air of confidence around me. The guy beside me takes off running. Some of the wizards and witches disappear from right where they stand.
From what I can tell it is a big vehicle, but I can’t be sure. The horn goes off again. This time it makes me tremble with fear. I want to run, but I’m frozen in place. Then I can hear an engine revving up with an undertone of an angry lion. It’s an eighteen wheeler.
One of the witches goes to the back of my truck and stand in the middle of the road. She stops right on the center line and sends a fire ball to the tractor trailer. It hits directly on the grill. Now, the truck looks like a fiery machine with a life of its own. There’s no way I’m staying on the road now. I take off running to the open desert. The rest of the wizards and witches disappear, except for the witch that threw the fireball.
When the truck is only mere yards away, she throws another one and disappears at the same time. Whoever is in the truck has deflected the fireball, and it hits my truck. It explodes, and when the semi hits it, my truck is further demolished. Fiery chunks go flying all over the place, and I’m running to avoid being hit. The whole scene looks like hell blew up in the darkness.
Every single wizard and witch, including Inspector Renald, are now gone. Cowards!
With screeching tires and a release of fire red smoke from the exhaust pipes, I watch as the truck slows to a complete stop. I want to run again, but I can’t see in the dark. And there’s no telling what bad things are out in the open desert.