“Look, my fellows. The monster is not a beast at all, but a man.”
I saw the grizzled face of an elderly man leaning over me. Mustering my remaining morsel of dignity, I spit in his face.
Wiping his eyes with his sleeve, the old man raised his blade above my neck.
“With my last breath, I curse your people. May you know only famine, disease, and despair. I curse this land for anyone but its true guardians – my people and their descendants. Until the end of all ends, your own descendants will pay for your cruel treatment of my mother and her kin. I curse you until and after death.”
After the curse, I closed my eyes. My death was swift. I did not feel the cut that removed my head from my neck, ending my life. Power returned to my spirit as it soared into the woods, into the trees. As I merged my force with nature’s, the bark twisted, becoming gnarled and blackened.
It had begun.
Nothing would grow or bloom here.
Until my people were avenged, no one would find peace.
Chapter Thirty-Three
James Archer headed for the kitchen, intent on getting another beer. He supposed he should make dinner to soak up some of the alcohol sloshing in his stomach, but on the other hand, why bother? Food was overrated, and beer was made from grain. Surely that had to count as nourishment, and if his logic were faulty, there was no one left to point it out. His girlfriend had left months ago, thank Christ. He’d had more than enough of her nagging.
Maybe he’d been having brews for supper a bit too often lately, but it wasn’t like he had anything to stay sober for, not until he got his badge back. And he would get it back. There was no way he’d let that Indian cunt of a detective and a worthless, smug kid get the best of him. He was sorry he’d only blinded the bastard. Should have hit a little harder, cracked his skull beyond repair. Eliminated the witnesses. Had he learned nothing over the years? Not a single death on the reservation had been traced back to him. All those people he’d offered to drive home in the dead of winter – no one had kicked up a fuss when they’d gone missing. And no wonder. Human refuse, that was what they were. The world would have been much better off if his ancestors had wiped them out. Mercy was weakness, and now they were paying for it through their taxes as the vermin demanded handout after handout.
It was Darwin’s Law. Those who couldn’t survive on their own merits deserved to die. Wasn’t worth feeling guilty about, so he didn’t.
His German Shepherd stood at the picture window, looking out into the night, growling. Stupid dog had been a nuisance all evening. If he’d wanted a yappy barkbox, he would have gotten one of those little Spic dogs. Then he’d have the satisfaction of punting it through a wall.
“Shut up,” he told the dog as he cracked open beer number…well, why keep count? He wasn’t driving.
The Shepherd tore its attention from the window long enough to roll its eyes at him and whine, ears flattening. James took this as a sign of respect, or, at the very least, fear.
“I mean it, Dingo. I’m getting sick of your shit.” He put his beer on the table long enough to smack his fist into his palm, showing the dog he meant business. Dingo cringed, his hackles rippling. With dogs like Shepherds, it was crucial to maintain dominance at all times. He’d been showing Dingo who was boss since the pooch was a pup, and he’d never had a single problem. If only he could have found work in a larger center, one with a canine unit. No one could train an animal like him. He was a born alpha, and dogs respected that. Hell, he could train a wolf if he had to, sure he could.
Retrieving his beer, James sauntered back to his recliner. He was about to sit down when Dingo went into a barking frenzy, startling him. Foam cascaded over his hand as he slammed the bottle down on the coffee table.
“That’s it. I’ve had enough.” He took off his belt as he returned to the kitchen, knowing the sight of the leather strap would make the dog pee itself. Which made a hell of a mess, but it would be worth it to teach Dingo some goddamn manners. Besides, he could always leave the piss for the cleaning lady. Make her earn her money for a change.
James froze. His dog showed his teeth, barking with a savagery the animal hadn’t shown before. Outside his window, looking in, was the ugliest thing he’d ever seen.
“What the fuck—”
Antlers loomed above the thing’s repulsive face. It had a long, pointed snout, fangs, and glowing red eyes. Flesh hung from its snout in ribbons, as if it was rotting from within.
Shaking his head, James rubbed his eyes. He’d been drinking too much, that’s all. He was hallucinating things. After tonight, he’d cut down on the beer, join a gym, do a little running. Nothing like some good ol’ physical activity to clear the mind.
The thing was still there. As James gaped at it, its eyes shone brighter, lighting the kitchen with a crimson glow. Yelping, Dingo backed away from the window, then scampered out of the room with his tail between his legs.
“Where you going, you stupid mutt? You’re supposed to protect—” James’s diatribe died in his throat as the thing outside punched the window, shattering the glass. “Hey, what did you do that for? You’re going to have to pay for that, you know—”
The creature kicked through the glass, stepping into the house. It towered above him, had to be eight or nine feet tall. The stink of it was horrendous. Eyes bulging, James turned his head and gagged. Before he could face the thing again, he felt a powerful grip close around his throat.
“No, please,” he gasped, his words coming out as a strangled gurgle. “What do you want? Money? I’ll give you everything I have. Just please, let me go.”
His feet left the floor as the thing lifted him by the neck. The resulting pressure on his windpipe cut off his air, sending black spots to flood his vision. Unable to speak, to plead for his life, James screamed with his mind.
WHAT DO YOU WANT?
The creature grinned, revealing blood-soaked teeth dripping with foulness. “Food,” it said.
* * *
Maria stifled a yawn, hoping Kinew wouldn’t notice.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Apparently I was wrong.”
She patted his arm. “It was a good hunch. I would have told you if it weren’t.”
It had been a rocking Tuesday night at the McCaffrey house. No visitors, no wild parties, not even a hint of domestic discord to liven things up. Jessica’s parents were obviously still in mourning. If so, she couldn’t blame them. The thought of losing Heidi caused physical pain.
Kira’s parents and brother had left to visit family in Florida following the girl’s funeral, and Dan’s father had also fled town after his wife’s murder. The McCaffreys had been a safe bet, but now the night was almost over, and no wendigo.
“I have to admit, I feel a little silly.”
Kinew’s expression hardened. “You wouldn’t if you’d ever gotten a look at one.”
“You mean you’ve actually seen one?” This was new.
“Yes, a long time ago. I’d hoped to never see it again.” His hands tightened on the wheel though he’d killed the engine hours before.
“Where was it? What happened?” The questions bubbled out of her before she could contain them, but to think he was a witness to this thing they were hunting! She’d never met anyone who’d experienced the supernatural before. Unless you counted the arrowhead, which thankfully had remained lost.
He gazed out the windshield, silent for several long minutes. In the past, she would have rushed him, or wondered if he’d forgotten she was there, but she’d become used to his deliberateness. It tried her patience, but it was nice that some people still thought before speaking.
“Can you believe I was an Eagle Scout once?”
Of course he hadn’t sprung from his mother’s womb in his current form, but she understood why he’d posed it as a question. It was difficult to imagine the serious chief as a young boy
. “Sure.” Maria pictured a severe-looking child with his hair tied in immaculate braids, his uniform pressed and spotless.
“Collecting those badges used to be everything. I lived for those darn things.” A smile briefly touched his lips as he remembered. “Anyway, I can’t recall which one I was after, but it necessitated a camping trip, something where I could demonstrate my survival skills.”
A goose crept over her grave. “Strong Lake?”
He nodded. “I was fearless then. I had no idea how many things there were to be afraid of in this world.”
Maria no longer wanted to hear the story. She was sorry she’d asked, but thought it would be rude to interrupt, so she let Kinew continue.
“Eagle Scouts is supposed to foster camaraderie, lifelong friendships, and things of that nature, but to be honest, most of the boys in my troop pissed me off. They were always goofing around, pulling juvenile pranks on each other, and half the time, our leaders were just as bad. Bunch of overgrown kids. None of them took any of it seriously. Not half as seriously as I did.” He looked at her then. “I’m sure you’re having trouble believing that.”
She didn’t need to see his eyes to know the glint of mischief had returned.
“Yes, it’s a struggle.”
“Indeed. In any case, the end result was that I often went off by myself, and that day was no different. I decided to leave the structured part of the campsite and venture deeper into the woods, searching for a certain mushroom or rock or whatever the hell I was supposed to collect.
“In the way of young men, I got so engrossed in what I was doing that I lost track of how long I’d been gone, and how far I’d traveled. All I know is, when I heard the growling and looked up, I couldn’t see the campground anymore. Couldn’t hear the others. It was like I was in another world.”
Maria’s chest tightened as she pictured that vulnerable child alone in the forest. Thank God girls weren’t allowed to be Eagle Scouts when she was a kid.
“I thought it was a bear, which would have been bad enough. It had that throaty, snuffling sound to it, but usually you can hear a bear coming. They’re not the most graceful creatures, except when they’re swimming. I froze, and my initial thought was that bear better not attack me and mess up my uniform, because Mom would be pissed.”
She smiled, more to acknowledge his attempt to lighten the mood than because it was funny. “You found your mother more frightening than a bear?”
“Hell, yes. Times a thousand. I crouched there in the dirt, wondering what the heck I should do. Every bear survival story I’d heard ran through my head, but it didn’t do me a damn bit of good. They all sounded like suicide to me – playing dead, challenging it, curling into a fetal position. I’d about decided to take my chances with running like hell back to camp when it whispered at me.”
Every hair on her arms stood at attention. The crawling sensation was so intense it was nearly painful. “What did it say?”
“This will sound familiar to you. It said, ‘You’re not welcome here – go home.’ I’ve never forgotten it. It was like that thing spoke right into my ear, like I felt those words in my head rather than simply hearing them. Do you know what I mean?”
She nodded, unable to speak.
“I may have been a dumb kid, but I knew bears didn’t whisper, so I looked up and saw it. It was standing a few feet away, staring at me.”
“What did it look like?”
“Well, a wendigo is the most hideous thing I’ll ever see. Death with antlers is the way I’d describe it. Take everything you’re afraid of and multiply it by a million – that’s a wendigo. And if that weren’t enough, they reek something awful. I’ll never forget that smell.”
“What did you do?”
“What did I do? It told me I didn’t belong there, and it didn’t have to tell me twice. I ran my ass off back to camp, screaming and hollering like the Grim Reaper himself was after me.”
“Wow.” She tried to imagine Kinew small and scared, or the reaction of his troop leader and the other boys. “I hope they listened to you.”
“Oh, I didn’t tell them the truth. I was the only Indian kid in camp. None of the others would have understood what a wendigo was, and I was in no condition to explain. I kicked up enough fuss that one of the fathers gave in and drove me home. He tried to get me to talk, to tell him what had scared me so much, but I kept my mouth shut. If I’d told him, they wouldn’t just have me for a sissy, but a crazy too.”
They were quiet for a moment, watching the McCaffreys’ deceptively peaceful house.
“It would make a good story, like one of those things you see in the Weekly World News,” Kinew said. “A wendigo ended my Eagle Scout career.”
Before she could respond, her cell phone vibrated on her hip, startling her. She glanced at the number. Jorge.
“Excuse me. It’s my partner.”
Kinew nodded.
“What’s up?”
“It’s Archer. I’m at his place, and you better get over here too.”
Oh no. What had that miscreant done now? “Why?”
“He’s gone, Maria. Someone broke into his place and tore him apart.”
* * *
Maria would revisit Archer’s place in darker moments for the rest of her life. As much as she’d despised the man, he hadn’t deserved this.
“You all right?” Jorge’s eyes were kind, his voice soothing. She longed to lean against him, to let him comfort her. But of course she didn’t. She had a job to do.
“As much as can be expected.” Archer’s killer had decided to decorate the place with the man’s insides. Thick, glistening ropes of intestines dangled from a ceiling fan. His heart and brain had been splattered against the walls like a macabre Rorschach test. Blood was sprayed across the ceiling.
That wasn’t the worst of it, though.
The worst of it was a lot of Archer was missing.
“Where’s Dingo?” Maria knew the man had taken one of the K-9 rejects home. Though not suitable for police work, the pup would have made a fine pet. She shuddered to think of that sensitive animal witnessing this carnage.
“Markham took him home, said it looked like the dog had been abused. As soon as we opened the door, it ran for the hills. Required quite a bit of effort to coax him back.”
“Jesus Christ.” No matter how grisly Archer’s death had been, Maria doubted he’d have many mourners.
“We’ve done everything we can. It’s time to clear out.” Jorge shifted his weight. You didn’t badmouth other cops, especially murdered cops – that was the code they lived by. Archer’s malevolence would remain the white elephant in the slaughterhouse.
“Did you find any unusual prints?”
He studied her, narrowing his eyes. “Unusual how?”
“I don’t know.” She avoided looking directly at her partner, but it was difficult to find a safe place to direct her attention. New horrors were everywhere. “Anything that looks like hoof prints, maybe?”
“What’s going on, Maria?”
“How do you mean?” Even as she asked the question, she wondered why she bothered playing dumb with him. It wouldn’t work. She mentally kicked herself for not searching the crime scene for the prints on her own.
“I think we both know a horse isn’t responsible for this. So unless Archer was keeping another pet I’m not aware of, that’s a very strange question.”
“I guess it is, but I can’t explain it right now.”
The hurt in her partner’s eyes was an accusation. “Are you cutting me out?”
“No! No, not at all. I’m working on a hunch, but I don’t understand enough about it yet. If I tried to explain it to you now, it wouldn’t make any sense.”
“Try me. I’ve got the time. You know as well as I do that they’re going to expect us to solve this.”
�
�I know. As soon as I’ve figured it out, I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”
“Why don’t we go for a coffee, try to shake this stink off us?”
“I’d like to, but I can’t. Kinew is waiting for me.”
Jorge wrinkled his nose. “That chief from the reservation? What are you still talking to him for?”
She decided to confide in her partner, if only the basics. Keeping anything from him, let alone something this big, was foreign territory. It was obvious Jorge had picked up on her deception, and it broke her heart to lie to him.
“There was a similar murder last night, on the reservation. A woman was decapitated in her trailer.”
“That’s the tribal police’s business. Unless they officially requested our help, it’s out of our jurisdiction.” His frown deepened. “You could get in trouble, Maria.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not doing anything official. I went to help Kinew as a friend.”
Jorge raised an eyebrow. “We’re friends with this guy now?”
“I am, yes. I think so.” She thought about the evolution of her relationship with Kinew. They had developed a camaraderie of sorts, unless it was in her head. “Yes.”
“Okay.”
“On the woman’s step were two bloody hoof prints. It’s only a hunch, like I said, but I wondered if you’d found anything like that here.”
“I see.”
She squeezed his arm. “I’ll tell you everything soon, I promise. Not that there’s much to tell. Why don’t we reconvene early tomorrow morning? We’ll get that coffee and we’ll talk this out.”
“Is something going on with him?” Jorge shuffled his feet and appeared to have great difficulty meeting her eyes.
“With who – Kinew?” The idea would have been laughable if they weren’t currently surrounded by the innards of their former colleague. “Of course not.”
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