Silent Prey

by TM Simmons

"We're trying to have a peaceful dinner," Hjak said with a grunt of annoyance.

  "Not if you're discussing Nenegean," Keoman insisted. "That's not a peaceful conversation topic."

  "Nenegean?" Channing asked.

  Keoman kept his gaze on Hjak, but replied, "She's the monster our people think has come to life here."

  Channing cocked her head. "And possibly killed Shaylanda?"

  That focused Keoman's attention on her. "You know the name of Nodinens' great-niece?"

  "She and Nodinens had coffee this afternoon," Hjak said before Channing could respond. "And I don't recall inviting you to share our table."

  "I'll be glad to leave after I hear what you and Dr. Drury have to say about Nenegean," Keoman assured Hjak. To Channing, he said, "Nenegean means 'one who frightens children' in our lore. She's like your boogeyman. And no, she wouldn't be the one who killed Nodinens' niece."

  The waitress set glasses of ice water on their table, but didn't linger to chat. In fact, Channing noticed a look that could have been fear on her face before she scurried away.

  "I think you're scaring off our server," she said.

  "It's a buffet," Keoman said. "We serve ourselves."

  "That's right." Channing rose. "And I'm starving. I'm getting something to eat while you two hash out who gets to sit where."

  "I'll join you," Hjak said.

  Keoman leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, his posture indicating he would be there when they returned.

  Instead of discussing the unwanted guest at their table, Hjak headed for the entrees when Channing walked to the salad bar. By the time she carried her salad and a small serving of roasted chicken and mashed potatoes back, Hjak had finished most of what looked like it had been a loaded plate of beef and side dishes. Keoman remained sitting there, and it didn't appear that either man was talking to the other.

  Hjak immediately stood and held Channing's chair for her, then took one of the plates from her to set it on the table. "The waitress came by and I ordered us some iced tea, in case you wanted it," he said. "We have our bar drinks, but since we might not get real good service here with Keoman at our table, I figured I'd better take the opportunity."

  Channing unwrapped the napkin around her silverware as she said to Keoman, "Why is it that I've noticed you spark distaste from some people?"

  "Like Doc Silver, you mean?" Keoman asked.

  "And our waitress," she answered.

  "The waitress overheard me say Nenegean's name," he responded. "There aren't many of my people who like to talk or think about her."

  "If this Nenegean is — if my comprehension is correct, if she's someone who died then came back, why are you saying her name?"

  "Is the custom of not speaking the names of our dead also something you researched before you came here?" Keoman asked.

  Channing shook her head. "That's something Nodinens explained to me this afternoon."

  "Nenegean was human once," Keoman explained. "But the form she's in now is completely different. She doesn't deserve the respect of our customs, because she didn't finish her journey."

  "Her odjitcag wandered instead of making the proper trip to her afterlife," Channing responded. "Yes, that's something else I learned from Nodinens."

  Abruptly, Keoman said, "Is your husband someone who would understand what Nenegean is?"

  Channing chewed a bite of salad and swallowed before she answered him. "Nothing like cutting to the chase, huh? Well, if the hints I've been getting about this Nenegean are true, then my ex-husband Grant would probably be very interested."

  "Your daughter's father?" Hjak cut in.

  "Yes," Channing replied, not expanding on the information for Keoman's benefit. She couldn't decide if the sheriff made that comment so Keoman would understand that Hjak knew about her past life or not. Either way, she didn't much care for posturing between a couple of men vying for her attention.

  However, to be honest, Keoman didn't seem to be trying to gain points with her. He had only butted in when he heard what she said about Grant.

  Instead of responding to her comment about her ex's probable interest in the monster the Native Americans believed now roamed the Northwood, Keoman said to Hjak, "I contacted Caleb. He's going to do some research."

  "Caleb McCoy is a paranormal investigator," Hjak politely explained to Channing when Keoman didn't give her that courtesy. "He came up here last December to investigate another supernatural incident we had."

  "Then you also believe in the supernatural, Pete?" she asked.

  "Don't you?" Keoman broke in.

  She considered her answer as she poured a little more dressing on her salad. "As a physician, I'm supposed to keep a scientific mind. However, I've seen a lot of strange things. Do I believe there is another dimension? I'd say I'm about ninety-nine percent sure there's an afterlife. Still, that sliver of doubt remains. What happens could just be a reaction of our brain, in some part of it that we haven't been able to study yet."

  "But your husband believes differently?" Keoman asked.

  "Ex-husband," Channing corrected. "And his work isn't an effort to prove the existence of something else as much as to disprove it. Debunk it, as the television shows say." She stood, leaving both her half-empty plates on the table. "I'm going after dessert now."

  The noise of various conversations in the room, as well as the clamor of the nearby slot machines, made it impossible for her to determine if Keoman and Hjak discussed anything else as she walked away. By the time she chose between the chocolate and coconut pie, only Hjak sat at their table. Again, he stood and held her chair.

  After she sat down, she said, "You know, it's been a while since anyone has been that courteous."

  He shrugged. "It's what my mama taught me. And I'll be right back after I get myself a piece of that pie."

  ~~~~

  So many changes now, beyond anything Nenegean could imagine. There were horrible metal things screaming through the trees, scaring the animals. Humans rode the backs of them, dressed in strange clothing that covered them from head to toe. That type of clothing would have been good to have in Nenegean's other life. The people also defiled the land with their rubbish, and that angered her.

  One metal monster came again, this time toward her. She covered her ears, but the noise was inescapable. When she forced her eyes open, she saw the man tilt a shiny can to his lips, then toss it aside on the snow.

  With a roar of anguish and pain at the way the sound hurt and his defiling the land, Nenegean raced onto the path in front of the human. She shrieked her fury, shaking her fists and stomping her moccasined feet.

  "Nibowin! Nibowin!" Nenegean yelled, wishing death on both the human and the beast he rode.

  The mask he wore left the man's eyes exposed, and terror filled them when he noticed Nenegean. The thing he rode swerved to miss her, the wrong move. It crashed into a large tree beside the path, and pieces splintered and sailed through the air. The human flew, also, toward another tree. His back hit, and her hearing picked up the sound of bone breaking before he fell into the snow and lay motionless.

  By the time Nenegean approached, the man's eyes were open. He stared at her in horror, trying desperately to rise and run. His legs were useless, though. She had seen this happen once. A tribal member fell down a cliff, landing on a rock, which broke his back. The man never walked again.

  The sound of another one of those things humans rode reached her. Nenegean turned to confront it, but it halted further back on the trail. A woman sat on this one. Hair hung down beneath her hat, a different colored hat than the man's, although it, too, covered her head and lower face.

  "Shoot it!" the man at her feet yelled in a panic-stricken voice. "Omigod, Amy, shoot it! Hurry, Amy!"

  Nenegean didn't understand his words but comprehended his fright.

  The woman retrieved something from a leather pouch beneath her heavy coat and pointed it. An explosion rent the air, and something hit Nenegean on the shoulder. She hesita
ted for only a moment, gazing down at the hole left by a projectile from the woman's weapon.

  Nenegean didn't wait to be hit again. She raced across the snow to escape, knowing her pace was far too fast for them to ever hope to catch her.

  Indeed, the second shot from that weapon missed and hit a tree far behind her. It angered her even more, and rather than leave them alone, she circled back to see what their next actions would be. She continued to listen to the words in the unknown language, gaining a sufficient understanding of their meaning by the tones in man and woman's voices.

  The woman knelt beside the man, the weapon in her hand now pointed at the ground.

  "Don't let down your guard, Amy," he pleaded. "It might come back."

  "What was that thing?" she asked in a tear-filled voice. "My god, what did it do to you, Ben?"

  "I don't know what it is," he told her. "But I think my back's broken. You have to get help."

  The man had called her Amy, and since the woman responded, Nenegean assumed that was her name. Such a strange name. Nenegean hadn't yet been able to pick out what he was called from among the odd words.

  "I can't leave you here," the Amy woman cried. "What if that monster does come back?"

  "My snowmobile's a wreck," he said. "It'll make it worse if you try to get me on yours. You have to find help."

  "Wait," Amy said. "Maybe I've got a signal here."

  Amy pulled a small, black box from her pocket and held it up in the air. "Yes," she said. "I've got a couple bars. Oh, god, I hope I can reach someone."

  A moment later, Amy was speaking into that box. While she talked, Nenegean examined the hole in her shoulder. It was already closed. Evidently, in this new existence she healed quickly. The satisfaction from that knowledge allowed her to make a decision. In gratitude for learning that from these two, Nenegean would leave them alive. For now.

  Continuing to be interested in how they would get the man out of there, Nenegean remained hidden until noise in the distance indicated more of those horrible machines on their way. After two arrived, she even watched the riders examine the injured man, then carefully slide him onto a long, flat board and secure him with straps. Then they loaded the man into a bed on some sort of sled behind one of the machines.

  As they were doing this, Amy babbled continuously. "It was something ghastly," she told one of the men. "An ugly thing that looked like it was out of a horror movie. It seemed female, almost human. But its clothes were all tattered. If it had been human, it would have frozen in this weather."

  "Amy," one man said as he led her back to her machine. "You can explain all this to someone who can do something about it. Right now, we need to get Ben to medical help."

  Nenegean laughed at Amy's fearful glance in her direction, surprising herself when the sound filled the air around both her and the others. All of them froze with their faces turned towards where she stood.

  "What was that?" the man on the machine that would be pulling the sled asked.

  "That's the monster that attacked Ben! It has to be! We need to get out of here!" Amy jumped onto the thing she rode and pushed something that sent it roaring down the trail.

  The men on the other two machines followed more slowly, but their heads swiveled constantly, watching through the trees. Nenegean trailed behind them, picking up sounds of conversation, although she didn't understand how they could talk to each other above the grating noise.

  "Have you heard an ETA for the chopper?" one man asked.

  The other, who had a deeper voice, answered, "Any minute now. It'll probably be waiting by the time we get to the clearing. This guy was lucky the bird wasn't out on another emergency."

  "Yeah," the first man said. "And I hope that's not all the luck he has. That back's in bad shape."

  They emerged from the trees into a wide field. The Amy woman waited on the edge of it, staring overhead at another huge thing descending toward them. Not only did this one make ten times as much noise, the whirling on top stirred up the snow into a blizzard. The thing disappeared for a few moments, until it finally sat on the ground and somehow lessened the noise.

  A mix of awe and fright filled Nenegean. She wanted to run away, but her fascination won.

  Is it a bird? she thought. What sort of place have I come to? The land looks the same, the lakes are where they always were. But there are so many strange sights and people.

  Something Nenegean had heard around the campfire when the storytellers spoke to the children of the tribe tickled at her mind. However, she couldn't recall the tale. Her senses told her this was important, though, and she finally raced away to be alone and try to reason out why she had returned.

  Much of the life Nenegean had lived before was coming back to her. She understood her odjitcag had never made the journey to the land beyond nibowin, the land where Midé Manido lived. She would have recalled something that important. But why was not clear. All lore spoke of there being reasons for everything, though. She needed to find her reason for returning.

  Perhaps solitude to go back over her previous life would allow it to become clearer. There was no one else around to help. The two encounters with the humans of this time showed they were too afraid for her to approach. That knowledge, along with realizing how quickly she healed, would be stored in her mind and built upon.

  She stopped at last, her thoughts confused and jumbled. Yes, the humans she confronted were afraid. Why? Why did they act that way, without knowing who she was? Why did they shoot and try to hurt her? She had not done anything to them until that man desecrated the land with his trash. Then she had only stepped out onto the trail. He had lost control of what he rode and hit the tree.

  The old cabin would have provided shelter, had Nenegean needed such. However, it was long rotted, nothing left where it had stood except a struggling rose bush nearly buried by a drift. She had planted that, a gift she received. She settled upon this being her new home, somewhere hidden away, a trackless place for solitude. Also, she hadn't seen any signs of those horrible machines and doubted they would disturb her here. She didn't leave any footprints to reveal her presence, should anyone venture into this end of the wilderness.

  Nenegean didn't mind isolated wilderness. It had been part of her life once.

  Something about that thought bothered her. Yes, there had been wilderness before. She gazed around. No huge structures like the one she had seen earlier, though. The tribe lived in tipis constructed from tightly sewn skins stretched over long poles. The shape left a hole in top for smoke from the warming fire to escape.

  The poles served another use, also. When they moved, they could fashion a sled on which to carry what they needed at their next camp.

  Yet … she remembered one problem with the beautiful wilderness — a deadly problem. Food.

  Her stomach ached at the reminder, although no food was necessary in this existence. During her other time, near the end of when snow covered everything and before the new season started, the stores were low. The snows kept the men from hunting, and the animals did not move around much. Had a family not prepared enough to get through the bobakwudagimegizis month, hunger could be deadly.

  Another memory surfaced. No, two. She wandered over to a small, snow-covered mound. Before she knelt, she stared up the hill beside her. Somewhere, she recalled a cavern.

  Chapter 11

  Channing pushed the room service cart aside on her way to answer the phone again. Who on earth was calling now? She needed to get on the road in case the weathermen were wrong about how fast that new storm would get here and make the roads impassable again. She and Hjak had said goodbye at her door last night, and there were few others who knew where she was.

  "Dr. Drury," she answered.

  "Oh, lord, Doctor," a woman said. "I'm so glad you're still here. Can you get to the clinic, please? Hurry! I've—"

  "Excuse me," Channing broke in. "Calm down and tell me who this is."

  "I'm sorry," the woman said. "It's Daisy, from the clin
ic. Nurse PawPaw and I found Dr. Silver when we arrived this morning. PawPaw thinks he's had a heart attack. Please hurry!"

  "Have you called 9-1-1?" Channing asked, already getting ready to hang up and grab her bag.

  "Yes," Daisy said. "But they're out at a cabin where someone's in what sounds like insulin shock. I called Medivac, too, but it takes them a while to get here. Please, Dr. Drury. Can you come?"

  "I'll be there as soon as possible," she assured Daisy. "In the meantime, do what you can to keep him alive."

  "I will. Hurry, please."

  Channing didn't bother to check out, although she did take her roll-on as she hurried out the door and headed for the elevator. Outside, she shivered in the cold morning, wondering why on earth anyone would live in such freezing country. She threw her suitcase in the trunk and was on the way to the clinic within another minute.

  She broke several speed limits on the ten minute drive. A police escort would have been welcome, but no one stopped her.

  Daisy met her at the clinic door. "This way, Doctor," she said in a tear-filled voice. "PawPaw's giving him CPR, and I've got the paddles ready if you need them."

  Dr. Silver lay on the floor in his office, a room Channing had seen on her earlier tour. Nurse PawPaw sat astride him, performing CPR. A heart monitor was hooked up, an oxygen mask on his face.

  When Channing noticed the strain on PawPaw's face, she asked Daisy, "Can you take over CPR?"

  "I can," Daisy agreed, wringing her hands as Channing knelt on the floor. "I offered, but PawPaw wanted to continue."

  Gently, Channing rubbed PawPaw's shoulder. The nurse was totally engrossed in her life-saving efforts. When she glanced up, PawPaw appeared to be surprised to see Channing.

  "Let Daisy take over," Channing ordered in her take-charge voice. "I need you to start an IV."

  As PawPaw stood, Channing checked the monitor again. There was actually some slight activity without CPR help, and the doctor's chest indicated he was breathing shallowly on his own. She held out a hand to halt Daisy.

  "I think his heart is beating. Let me examine him before we do anything else drastic."