by K. H. Pope
The door squeaks open, and a guy steps out of it and yells my name. I know that voice anywhere.
“Ammon!” I scream. I take off running. As soon as I reach him, I wrap my arms around his neck.
“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” he asks as he looks at me from head to toe.
“I’m fine. I’m okay. Was that you driving that thing?”
“Yes, it was. Were you impressed?”
“Yes, I was very impressed.” I notice what Ammon has on. He’s wearing a black suit with a bowtie and tails. That’s the man I know, and I smile even more.
“My apologies about your transportation,” he remarks. “It was surrounded by an infestation. Would you like a ride back to civilization?”
“Why thank you, Ammon,” I say with a laugh.
Once we’re in the truck, he shifts that thing into gear several times with ease and head down the road. I’ve never sat in a semi before, and it feels like I’m sitting on top of the world.
“How did you know where to find me, Ammon? I didn’t use the transfer chamber, and please, don’t tell me a wizard never reveals his secrets.”
“When the inspector was at my home, I attached a tracking device on him. No movement after some time, I knew he was waiting for you.”
“Do you believe me now, Ammon? Everything I told you about President Oliver?”
“Yes, Alice. I believe you.”
I’m so happy that he’s on my side now, but I feel bad at the same time. I sigh and remark, “Ammon, you can drop me off. I don’t want to get you in trouble with the Magi Elite.”
“In the middle of the desert?” he gawks. “I’m not doing that.”
“I just don’t want you to lose your senatorial position.”
“All of a sudden my position in the Magi Elite International Congress matters to you? I remember you telling me you didn’t care.”
“I’m human. Well, almost human, and my feelings are allowed to change. I do care what happens to you, Ammon, and I’m sorry for being so rude.”
“Alice, there is never a need for you to apologize. I understand what you were going through. I just don’t want to see you hurt again.”
I pat his hand and ask, “So, are you going to drop me off?”
“Like I said before, I will not. I’m taking you into Channing.”
As I’m about to say something else, I remember Adam. Inspector Renald took all that evidence from him. I pull out my cell phone and dial him up.
After a few rings, he answers groggily.
“Adam, are you okay?” I yell into the phone.
“Who is this?” he asks.
“This is Alice. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Are you okay? Something wrong?” He sounds panicked now.
“Did anyone mess with you? Did anyone try to hurt you?”
“No,” he says. “No one messes with me, ever!”
I breathe a little easier.
“Alice, why are you calling me? You know, I could get in big trouble if my dad finds me on the phone. I’ve been grounded, you know.”
“Just making sure you’re okay. I was told someone came to see you.”
“No one came by here to see me,” he says.
I ask him, “Can you check and see if you still have the paperwork?”
“Yeah, I have it.” I can hear Adam shuffling out of bed. “Why wouldn’t I...oh, wait, I don’t have it. It was in my desk, but it’s gone. I don’t know what happened to it.”
“It’s okay, Adam. Don’t worry about it. I know what happened.”
“Alice, I’m really sorry. I felt like I let you down.”
“No, you didn’t. I promise you didn’t. Just go back to bed.”
“Are you close to finding Geoff?”
“I am really close. Go back to bed, Adam. I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
“Okay, night, Alice.”
I lean back in the seat. Inspector Renald better not had hurt that little boy. Hunting him down would have been next on my list. I’ll happily break several ribs and not think or feel anything of it.
For now, I put Adam out of my head. He’s safe, and I watch the road as Ammon goes at a furious speed. The road is smooth under the wheels. He doesn’t look like a man who should be driving big rigs. Tux and tails and eighteen wheelers are an odd mix for sure.
“Who is Adam?” he asks.
“A kid I questioned. His brother is missing, too. I gave him all that evidence and the dimension traps to keep for me. I didn’t think Inspector Renald would find it.”
“Inspector Renald has a woman with him that can track people like you and me. She simply followed your trail from the time you left my house.”
“Priscilla told me,” I remark. “I’ll never get that paperwork back, and I had a book. Inspector Renald took that, too.”
“Don’t let that slow you down, Alice. Just keep at it.”
“How is the search for John going?”
Ammon shakes his head with disappointment and says, “The trail went cold with Chief Lacey. He’s sticking to his claim of not knowing John and not seeing him. I wish I could levy charges against him, but I need evidence. That’s the only way the Magi Elite will bring him to trial. When we get to Channing, where do you want to go?”
“I have to rent a car, but the state will be on curfew soon. So, I guess I’ll be stealing one. By the way, where did you get this truck from?”
“I paid the owner two million points at that shady motel on US-87 where you met Dr. Babineaux. What is that thing called?”
“The Tumbleweed?”
“Yes, very appropriate,” Ammon says with a disgusted expression.
I laugh.
“I owe him another million when I return it. If I don’t return it, I promised him an additional four million.”
“Really?”
“You’re worth every penny and more.”
Where would I be without Ammon? Walking in the desert in complete darkness. That’s where I’ll be or in jail and fighting my way out. I sit back and enjoy the ride. Having Ammon on my side is an awesome thing.
CHAPTER 35
The rain is coming down heavily outside the arched window of President Oliver’s opulent office in Hamburg, Germany. Inspector Renald is staring at the wet pavement below, the empty streets. He is waiting for the President to go over the information he took from Alice.
President Oliver holds up the portraits of Vanessa Brenlich and Theodore Timber. Vanessa is facing forward. She’s not smiling. Timber is flexing his arms, posing. President Oliver places them both on his desk.
“What do you think?” Inspector Renald asks as he sits down.
“Well, I know that Alice was telling me the truth and that Chief Lacey was lying.”
“Do you think he created them?”
President Oliver sighs and says, “No, I don’t, but I believe someone else very close to him has. The only problem is her profile doesn’t indicate she knows how to perform this magic.”
“Her?”
“Yes, Inspector, the very same woman that’s after my seat.” President Oliver stares down at the portraits. “Her father knew the craft. I bet he taught her everything before he died.”
“Sir, I don’t understand the point of trapping humans. It doesn’t gain her any leverage in the Magi Elite.”
“Valid point, Inspector,” the President says while tapping the table. “Bring Chief Lacey to my office immediately. He needs to answer for his lies. And whether he likes it or not, he will be helping in bringing this matter of the dimension traps to an end. Take Bererra, and take that book to the translator. I want to know what all that gibberish means.”
Inspector Renald grabs the book and heads for the door.
“Did Ammon help her escape?”
The Inspector stops and answers, “I can’t be certain. I didn’t see who was driving the truck.”
“Did anyone see him at all?”
“Officer Kutto was throwing fireballs at it, but
she didn’t get a chance to see who was inside.”
“I’d be willing to bet that Ammon was behind that rescue, but that is another matter for another time. No one was hurt, correct?”
“That’s correct, Mr. President.”
“Alright, Inspector Renald, I’ll be looking forward to your return.”
President Oliver picks up the portraits again. He begins to wonder if they are a true indication of a direct threat to his seat in the Magi Elite, and did Chief Lacey really have the audacity to lie to him to his face about the missing people? He picks up each report and glance at the names, the addresses, and the phone numbers.
The people that are missing all come from Dumas and the surrounding area close by where his nemesis lives. He wonders. Is it possible that Alice is right? Did that woman place these people in dimension traps? And if she did, why trap them in the first place? What is there to gain, and where are they hidden if they exist?
He looks at his watch. It’s 8:30 P.M. in Dumas by now. He picks up the phone and dials the number from off of a police report. Erica Markham answers.
“Mrs. Markham, My name is F. Oliver. I’m with WTGE Channel 6 News at Ten. We were wondering if we can do an interview with your husband, Sam. We understand that he was kidnapped, and now, he’s home. May I speak to him?”
“I’m not Mrs. Markham. It’s Miss Markham. I’ve never been married.”
“You’ve never been married?”
“That’s right. Maybe, you called the wrong number.”
“Maybe so,” President Oliver looks at the phone and hangs up.
He makes another call to another family member, and the story is the same. They don’t know the person he’s asking about. President Oliver thinks about the importance of these people not knowing their loved ones.
The moment he hangs up the phone from the third call, it hits him. Chief Lacey has erased the minds of all these families, and he wonders if Chief Lacey was actually the one creating the traps, instead of the person he initially thought. No matter, the President plans on questioning the Chief. He doesn’t appreciate being lied to about anything, and he’s going to settle this once and for all when the Chief arrives at his office.
CHAPTER 36
I watch the day replace the night. This day is another opportunity for me to find answers. I take a shower and braid my uneven shoulder length burn tipped white hair. The scarf can now be tossed since my scalp is completely covered.
Once I’m done getting dressed, I leave the hotel in Channing. I’m not completely happy with the way I look. My clothes are musty, and there’s no way I’m walking around in day old unwashed garments. I make a stop at a mom and pop store downtown, in which I break into by using my power to unlock the door. I find blue jeans, an ivory button shirt, and pink flats. I get the code off the register and pay with points from my phone. When I walk out of the store, I make sure the door is locked.
I check my surroundings. The streets are empty except for the lone tumbleweed and plastic bag blowing in the wind. I get in the car that I stole last night from in front of a house. The owner made it easy. Keys were left in it.
After I get settled into the car, I take out my phone and check for new messages. There isn’t anything returned from the Nottowon Tribe. I can’t wait for a reply. I set off to their location.
The drive will not be that long, but I’m hoping it’s not a waste. I just want to know about the contents of the book, even though I don’t have it anymore. If I don’t get any answers from the tribe, then I will go see Freland. I’m sure getting to him is going to be next to impossible and dangerous, but I’m not giving up.
When I do reach the reservation’s line, a wooden sign is beside the road welcoming visitors. I sure hope they mean it.
The land looks different. It feels different. There is a positive energy flowing. There’s more vegetation here; grass, flowers, Joshua Trees, and large cactuses. I didn’t think those kinds of plants could be found in this part of Texas. The places I’ve been to so far have tumbleweeds and dirt. The Nottowon Tribe must love this land, treasure it like their children.
Cliffs rise in the distance to my right, but the land is flat and goes on for miles on the left side of the meandering road. Ultimately, it leads to the cliffs.
The formation is home to several families. There are holes in the rock face that are tall and wide enough for individuals to enter. Some of the door frames have intricate carvings of desert animals and elongated figures holding weapons. The Nottowon has created ledges as paths that lead to every door. It looks like a beautiful intricate sculpture that’s not only for show but for practicality. Below is a maze of flat roof buildings. It is a vast layout, and it looks like it is home to hundreds of people. I park in a big dusty circle that leads to the main entrance into the semi-enclosed courtyard and maze of connected homes.
Beautifully tanned women with sunspots and wrinkles are sitting inside the walled courtyard. They are on stoops, and they are wearing the same type of clothes I saw hanging in the museum. They are smoking long pipes and watching the children as they sit in a circle intently looking at an older kid, who is speaking with his hands. He has his back to me.
My arrival does not go unnoticed. The moment I turn off my car, one of the women rise from her seat. It’s the mean librarian. I’m not sure if I should get out, but I didn’t get this far just to turn around and drive back. I go to the open entrance and wait to be invited.
The Librarian comes over and stares at me. I try to speak, but she starts first. This time she’s talking in her native tongue. If I was still a guardian angel, I would be able to understand exactly what she’s saying, but since I never had to watch over a Nottowon tribal member before I fell, I don’t know a single word she’s saying. But I get the impression she’s not mad at me. Eventually, she waves me in.
I remark to her, “I want to apologize for run-”
Before I can finish my statement, the other women surround me quickly, and they are all talking at the same time. I try to apologize to the Librarian again, but I can’t get one word out. They guide me into the maze of peach stucco structures, and I simply keep quiet from that point on.
Each home has a solid colored cloth hanging above the open entrances. We go from left to right and right to left numerous times through stucco walled trails until we reach the bottom of the cliff. I look up and see the intricate carvings around the doors and on the edges of the ledges. The same hieroglyphs that were in the book are on the walls, but they’re in different order. I still don’t understand what they mean. They’re beautiful close up. I’m taken up an incline, and we enter into the widest entrance, which is the third opening up the path.
The domed room is lit with candles on small pedestals smoothed out from the walls. Handcrafted area rugs cover the floor, and four backless chairs are pushed up against the walls. Banners hang behind each one, and they’re all different colors. The one directly to my right is blue. The second one is brown. The next banner is white, and the last one is red, which is directly to my left.
In between the brown and white banners is an opening. A light is growing brighter from it. A silhouette starts forming, and it’s not long before an elderly man is at the entrance. He has long gray hair and lovely smooth skin. He comes out and waves at me to follow him. All of the women leave out of the door they came in.
I follow the gentleman into the passage. Eventually, we step out onto a wide ledge. In front of us is the view of the rest of the tribal homes just like what I went through. It is a gigantic maze of passages created by connected red houses.
“This is beautiful,” I comment.
“Please,” the elderly man says while offering a place on the ground.
I take him up on his offer, and he joins me.
“I am Natrik,” he says. His English is very good. “I am Chief of the Nottowon Tribe, and you are Alice.”
“That’s right.”
“We are most pleased to have you here.”
“Thank you,” I remark. “Um, I ran into your librarian yesterday at the museum in Dumas. I’m sorry I didn’t give her the book. I tried to tell her, but all of those women are hard to talk over.”
“It’s quite alright. What is that age old cliché? Some things happen for a reason. I love the old American clichés. They are the bomb. Another cliché, yes?” He laughs and nods his head.
I try to laugh, but I feel awkward around him for some reason.
He sighs and says, “I know why you’re here. I saw you coming.”
“You did? How?”
“Your email,” he says casually.
I was half expecting him to mention he can see the future or something like that.
He reaches around to grab his pipe and says, “The book isn’t really important, Alice. It will not provide the answers you want.”
I exhale with disappointment. Now, I have to go all the way back to Dumas and figure out a way to get to the mayor.
He continues after lighting up, “Did you know that those missing people are members of the Nottowon?”
That bit of news completely shocks me. “No, I didn’t.”
“Every single one of them,” he says.
“Does that include Vanessa Brenlich?”
“Yes, her true mother was born here and grew up here. She married the numberman. That’s what I call him.”
“What about Theodore Timber? Is he a tribal member, too?”
“I don’t know anyone by that name,” he says.
“The police say that Vanessa went to live with her mother in the Hamptons. They’ve written that all of those people left their homes and went to live somewhere else.”
“It is of no real concern to me what the police write or think. The truth is what it is, and no one can change that. They were chosen because of their lineage, their desires, and their state of minds.”
“Chief Natrik, I don’t understand.”
“The people in the dimension traps are called the quiescent ones. They have gifts of the elements, much like everyone in this tribe does, but they do not realize it. And if they did, they never practiced it.”