Dr. Kuzma chuckled and waved a hand in the air as if to dismiss the importance of her praise. “What is this all about, Cleo? The police met me at my front door this morning and insisted I come here. I refused until they told me it was at your request. Are you in trouble?”
“No. No, I’m fine. I needed, rather we need your help in discovering more about your theories on a parallel universe.”
“Unfortunately, my work went nowhere. I moved on.”
“Break it down for us science dummies, Dr. Kuzma. Please.” Jacque spoke through gritted teeth and his eyes narrowed, allowing his condescension to show through.
Before the doctor took his seat, he studied Wind Dancer with interest, but didn’t try to engage him. Cleo guessed the scowl etched on the Pawnee’s face might be the reason, since even she felt a chill. She wondered if it had to do with the near-death experience on the roof or the confusing chaos going on in the police station where they waited.
“Okay, Detective. First I need coffee.”
Chapter 9
“I find it strange Chicago PD has developed a sudden interest in physics.” Dr. Kuzma took a sip of his coffee.
“Dr. Kuzma, we have reason to believe there may be an opening to another dimension or parallel universe.” Cleo glanced over at Wind Dancer who observed them with intense scrutiny. “This is Wind Dancer. I believe he crossed over.”
“Impossible,” he chuckled glancing over the edge of his cup at the Pawnee. “And why would you think such a thing? I worked for years to prove this, and nothing came of it. Your father and I talked about it all the time. I never told you this, but the week before he disappeared, he thought he was on the verge of finding an opening. I waited for him to call me that night.”
“Did you tell the police?” Jacque interjected.
“Of course not. It sounded crazy and I feared the investigation of his disappearance would end if I mentioned such a thing. Who would believe an old physicist? Even NASA got fed up with me and put me out to pasture.” He offered a contemptuous smirk toward Wind Dancer. “Why should I believe you crossed over, Wind Dancer? What have you been telling these people?”
Wind Dancer turned his head to focus on Cleo but said nothing. His face became a mask, free of emotion and interest in the topic at hand. She wondered if he even understood the turmoil he’d caused. She gave a terse rendition of the last couple of days. Jacque chimed in from time to time as if he grew impatient.
When the story ended, the physicist eyed Wind Dancer with a little more respect. “And you know Dr. Sommers?”
“I do,” the Pawnee spoke with a deep, clear voice. “We waste time. Neosho is out there. He will harm many if we don’t find him. Your men are no match for him.”
The CDC woman slipped into the room and took a seat. She stole a glance at Wind Dancer. “This ranks right up there with The Walking Dead, doesn’t it?”
“I’m going to guess you know little about other dimensions, so I will start at the beginning.” He touched his fingertips together forming a pyramid. “One thought is if you go far enough, you’ll get to return home.”
“Remember, Dr. Kuzma. Keep it simple,” Cleo warned.
“Yes. Of course. This means it is probable other planets exactly like Earth exist somewhere out there. It’s a big space. However, they are so far away we don’t even know where to search.”
“I don’t think this is what we’re talking about, Dr. Kuzma,” Cleo voiced, a little confused.
“Level 2 is, if you go far enough you’ll fall into another wonderful land. The trouble with this is the universe is expanding faster than the speed of light and therefore unreachable.”
Jacque ran his hand through graying hair. “Are you getting any of this, Cleo, because I’m lost.”
Dr. Kuzma held up his hand. “Hold on. I’m not finished. Level 3 is what most sci-fi fans think of when talking about parallel universes. These parallel universes are different from the others because they take place in the same space in our own universe. You have no way to access them. You have never had and will ever have contact with these. Yet you’re telling me this man comes from such a place, except it is from the early nineteenth century.” He chuckled. “So why is this so important, and why on earth should I believe this character?”
“I will show you, Doctor.” Wind Dancer stood and picked up a pencil from the table by the wall. He stood rigid for a few seconds as if searching for something.
The CDC lady straightened in her chair then crossed her arms over her chest, offering a sour frown at the Pawnee. Dr. Kuzma continued to sip his coffee as he tried to cover his smirk.
“In Native America, we know of these universes. This is why we are more spiritual than the white man. There are many worlds man cannot cross. Yours is not one of them, although until Dr. Sommers came into our world, we did not know this was possible.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake,” moaned the CDC lady with a huff of disbelief.
“There are holes into this world everywhere, even in this room.”
“In this room?” Dr. Kuzma chuckled. “And you can see these, I assume.”
“Yes. Native Americans, especially the Pawnee, have always lived on a higher plain than you. Our minds are open to the possibilities. We feel life all around us.”
“All very poetic, Wind Dancer, but I don’t think there is a parallel universe within this room,” Dr. Kuzma commented in a scholarly tone.
Wind Dancer held up the pencil. He stood and moved to an interior wall. “Some holes are small, Doctor. Others are large enough for a man. This one.” He rested the eraser against the wall and gently pushed until the pencil disappeared halfway up the body. With a gasp, the woman and doctor rose to their feet as he extracted the pencil and held it up for them to see.
“Just a trick,” the woman exclaimed.
“Dr. Kuzma, will you trust me to show you into my world?”
“Yes. Of course.” The doctor couldn’t get to Wind Dancer’s side fast enough. “What do you want me to do?”
“This hole is small. Too small for even your finger. These kinds of holes open and close all the time. It won’t last long. Do exactly as I did.”
The doctor took the pencil and applied a gentle force so it entered the wall. He tried to bring it back, but it broke off in his hand.
“Remarkable. I could feel the emptiness then the sudden clamp broke it.” He held it up to his face as if examining a piece of lost treasure. “It is true, then.” He looked up at the solemn Indian and laughed. “You have made my life worthwhile, young man. So why is everyone in such a lather about this Neosho who crossed over with you?”
The woman from the CDC lifted a hand to her chest, perhaps realizing for the first time all the nonsense she’d heard from the detective was true. Her voice quivered as she spoke. “Because he may have smallpox and is loose in our city.”
~~~~
“We’ve got to find the Frenchman,” Jacque declared as he glanced at his watch. “Will he look the same?” He’d brought Wind Dancer across the street to a small café while Cleo helped vaccinate the other police officers in his precinct. Ordering some pancakes for them both along with glasses of milk didn’t keep the Pawnee from getting up from the booth to move around or pace in front of the window to watch the police station.
Wind Dancer nodded as he slid into the booth and patted the seat until it sounded like a drum. “Yes. He still look like you only”— he squeezed his lips together— “except rougher.” He motioned to his face to pantomime then to his head. “Hair is longer, a little more frost.”
“I remember. And I think you mean gray, not frost. I thought since he was a skinwalker, there would be other changes.”
“I believe so. Stronger. Can do things humans cannot, like appear without warning or walk through walls. He will be tortured until he finds his purpose.”
“Purpose?”
“He will want Neosho dead, to seek revenge for killing his wife and sons. He wants to destroy his soul so he will
be doomed for eternity.”
A whistle escaped Jacque’s lips. “Wouldn’t want a spook creepin’ through the streets lookin’ for me.”
“Spook? I don’t understand.”
“Another name for skinwalker. Sort of.” Jacque felt uncomfortable at the confused glare making the Pawnee’s brow furrow.
“If he finds Neosho first, it is good. But then we must make sure my friend returns to the land of Tirawa.”
“Who the hell is Tirawa? Is this someone else I need to be concerned about?”
“No.” Cleo flopped down next to the detective as he slid over to make room for her. She noticed a surprised expression cross Wind Dancer’s face for a micro-second. “Tirawa created the world through a series of violent storms then created star gods, who in turn created humanity.” She shrugged as she grinned over at Jacque. “What can I say? My dad used to read me this stuff when other kids got Dr. Seuss. Didn’t mean to interrupt you guys.” A waitress arrived to take her order of coffee and toast. “Anyway, Tirawa is the least of our worries,” she sighed as the waitress scurried away.
“Glad to hear it. Wind Dancer said the Frenchman might help us if we can find him, but then we’ll have to deal with him since he’s a skinwalker. Got any input into how, Miss I-Know-Everything?”
Cleo elbowed him good-naturedly and decided she liked the man in spite of his rough mannerisms and bluntness. “I’m not sure. What do you think, Wind, I mean Joseph?” she self-corrected as the waitress set her breakfast on the table then moved to another table.
“I think you should eat more. This is not how a strong woman lives.”
“Trying to make me fat?”
Wind Dancer cocked his head to the side as if trying to understand. “I don’t know how to do fat. You are beautiful the way you are, Cleopatra.”
Jacque choked on his coffee. “Nice save, Joseph. Women here are obsessed with the way they look and don’t like to add on pounds.”
He nodded. “Not so different where I’m from.”
The three shared a quiet laugh before changing to a more serious topic.
“How’d it go with the CDC, Cleo?” Jacque stretched out his cup when the waitress passed by with the coffee. He waited a second to make sure she’d moved on before continuing. “She’s a pill.”
“She settled down after Joseph’s demonstration. She cracked the whip and her team hopped to it. We got done pretty quickly. Homeland is reaching out to the other necessary agencies like fire departments and hospital staffs. School nurses and superintendents have been called in for a meeting this afternoon at the Field Museum.”
“Any idea where Neosho might go, Joseph?” The detective held his cup to his mouth.
“Wherever Cleo goes, he will try to find her. The Osage put a lot of value on family. Because he blames me and the Frenchmen for taking the surveyors to his village, he wants revenge. I believe he plans to take her to the other side to heal those sick, especially the children. Osage don’t put much thought into death, but a great deal on the life of a child. They do not understand afterlife.”
“Maybe we should use you as bait, Cleo.” Jacque’s words came out slow as he kept an eye on the Pawnee. “How do you feel about that?”
“Scared. Nervous.” She took a deep breath and then let it escape in a puff that moved her bangs.
Wind Dancer reached across the table and took Cleo’s hand. “I will protect you. You have nothing to fear.”
She laid her free hand on top of his. “What if he kills you? I would never forgive myself.” She realized her voice transformed to a soft, almost sensual tone. He somehow brought the vulnerable side of her to the surface.
Jacque cleared his throat. “You two need a room?”
“Don’t be flippant, Jacque,” Cleo cooed, releasing Wind Dancer’s large brown hand.
“If you’re going to use big words, Doc, I’m going to have to get a dictionary,” he snapped in mock irritation.
“A thesaurus, Detective.”
“Sometimes, I think you are speaking another language.” Wind Dancer shook his head. “Your father did not teach me these words you speak. I’m sorry.”
“She’s trying to show us how much smarter than us she is, Joseph. Women are a pain in the neck here. Let’s get back on topic. Now that Neosho knows where she lives, she probably isn’t safe to stay there. Will he return through another opening into your universe to hide?”
“He will find help. If he goes, he may not find his way across again. I’m sure he knows the earth lodge at the Field Museum will be watched. Remember, he is flesh and blood like me, but stronger than men here. He may know of another place to cross.” Wind Dancer shifted his eyes to Cleo then took her hand again. “He will try and take you through there. You must fight if this happens. I won’t be able to get to you on the other side if the opening closes.”
“What kind of help, Wind Dancer, I mean Joseph?” She couldn’t keep the quiver from her voice.
Jacque rubbed his hand across his face. “Gangs are my guess. If he’s walking around acting like a badass they’ll find him. Plenty of garbage in Chicago these days. When they find out what he can do, they’ll be falling all over themselves to enlist his help in gaining territory.” The cell phone Jacque had laid on the table vibrated. “Hello. Okay. On our way.”
“Our Osage slept at a homeless shelter last night. Officers are taking a CDC agent and a Homeland guy over to check who stayed there last night.”
“They all need to be vaccinated.” Cleo eased out and grabbed the check. “My treat. Let’s go.”
Chapter 10
The smell of the river assaulted Neosho’s sensitive nose. Hiding under a landing beneath a luxury hotel, he watched people meander toward boats, which, when full, puttered up and down the river while someone held a small object to his mouth, projecting his voice so loud it seemed to float across the water. The breeze off the water forced him to pull his Green Bay Packer jacket tighter.
He observed the path of the boats floating with some kind of noise attached. Experience told him they would spill out into the great body of water he’d seen from the museum. So many people in this place. What had happened to the land of his ancestors? Why could he taste the bitterness of the air as it burned his eyes? Even the sky appeared gray here with buildings touching the clouds.
He remembered the night he’d reached the floor above the city where he’d first found Cleopatra all alone. He’d missed his chance because he’d watched her too long from the shadows, drinking in the softness of her hair, the color of red embers. He hadn’t expected her to be so beautiful in person.
In the museum case, he sometimes could only hear her and other times glimpse her through a frosted haze swirled in his protective enclosure. Even so, sometimes her appearance became so vivid, Neosho tried to reach out to her and draw her to him. In those times, she faced Wind Dancer and talked quietly to him as if he could participate in the conversation. Only her profile ever appeared in those moments the glass cleared. Even then, she ignored him, except to tease him once in a while.
When his family died of the white man’s sickness, he discovered by accident Cleopatra was a doctor. She’d disappeared for years from the museum. When her father, Dr. Sommers, appeared in his land, he understood the path to this world could be crossed. He would bring Cleopatra to his home and begin life anew. She would protect his people from the sickness. If Dr. Sommers spoke truth about a medicine, then hope remained. To take her from Wind Dancer was a gift he dare not question or examine too intently. When he captured her, he would not wait to make her his willing partner. In the end, Cleopatra would love him, bear him sons and beautiful daughters while keeping them safe with her medicine.
And he would destroy Wind Dancer, his hated enemy.
“What are you doin’ here? You some kind of freak?” A young black man stood level with Neosho’s shoulder, possessing the swagger of a man much bigger. An unlit cigarette wedged in the corner of his thick lips, squinted weasel-like eyes, and
a nose with a broken twist impressed Neosho as being tough. “What are you, like a giant or somethin’?”
Neosho glared down at the young man who invaded his space then growled a response. “You should leave.”
“Like hell I will. Do you see this?” He jerked down the flimsy neckline of his hoodie to reveal a five-pointed yellow star on his neck. “I’m a Death Apostle.”
Neosho glanced at the star for only a second before he grabbed the young man around the throat and slammed him up against a pillar. He held him there without any trouble as the captive kicked and squirmed until Neosho tossed him aside in a pile of litter. It lifted up at the sudden disturbance.
“Man, are you crazy?” He rubbed his neck with vigorous strokes, concern etched on his face. “You can’t be here. This is my walk. My boys will kill you, man.”
Neosho reached down and snatched the young man up to wobbly feet then shook him. “Are these boys your tribe?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Sure. Why not?” He jerked free of Neosho then took a step away. “They will whup your ass, no doubt.”
“How many in your tribe?”
“Maybe fifteen, twenty. I dunno. Enough to handle you.”
“Are all your tribe as small as you?”
“Hell, no. And I ain’t small. You’re a freak is all.”
“Take me to your tribe, Little One.” Neosho raised his chin as a sign to leave.
“My name is Ty, so don’t be callin’ me Little One around my boys. Got it?” He moved up the steps.
“Got it.”
~~~~
Returning from the homeless shelter, Cleo rode in the car next to Wind Dancer. He gripped the seat so hard his knuckles turned white until she pried his hands loose and held them in hers.
“Focus on me, Joseph.” She talked in the softest voice she could muster, considering the terrifying realization Neosho could be spreading smallpox throughout the city.
Wind Dancer did as she asked, gazing deep into her eyes, smiling at times or touching her face with his free hand. He seemed fascinated with her hair and stroked it, even smelled it once and trailed his fingertips down her shoulder then her arm, giving her goose bumps. If this kept up, they might have to get a room as Jacque had suggested earlier. He bombarded her with sensory overload until she worried her speech might slur. When his hand dropped to her thigh, Cleo glanced at Jacque in the front seat who met her eyes in the rearview mirror. His brows arched and his mouth puckered enough to make Cleo gain some control of her desires.
Dark Side of Morning (Wind Dancer Book 1) Page 8