Ancient Enemy Box Set [Books 1-4]

by Lukens, Mark

  “You mean this is the kind of place white people might build?” Begay asked with a smile.

  Palmer just sighed.

  “There were towns all over here in the eighteen hundreds before the government sectioned off the reservations for the Navajo, Ute, Zuni, Hopi, and others. Many of these towns were built up during the silver rush, or as way stations along the way to the west coast. But just like towns are disappearing in the Appalachian valley now as the economy changes, people left these towns for the same reasons.”

  A howl rang out through the air. Then another one.

  Begay looked over at a ridge that ran along to their left, running all the way from the sea of brush they had walked through and then beyond the ghost town. “Coyotes.”

  Palmer looked at the ridge and saw that it was dotted with coyotes. The animals stood there in a line like a regiment of soldiers. His skin crawled as he thought back to all of those animal tracks around the stolen pickup truck.

  “Is that normal?” Palmer asked, nodding towards the line of coyotes in the distance. “All those coyotes up there on the ridge like that?”

  “Nothing is normal about this,” Begay answered.

  They followed the trail through the hard-packed sand to the edge of the ghost town as the wind began to kick up, nearly blotting out the ghost town now in the sandstorm. Palmer stayed tense, but he kept one arm shielded over his eyes. If something was coming for them in this sandstorm, they wouldn’t see it until it was too late.

  They got to the edge of the town and the buildings lining both sides of the dusty street provided some protection from the swirling sand. Begay carried the shotgun as he walked down the wide street through the middle of the town and Palmer had his service pistol in his hand.

  “They could be in any of these buildings,” Palmer said.

  Begay looked down at the tracks in the sand. Palmer looked down at the dirt, too. The wind hadn’t blown the tracks away completely because of the buildings, but Palmer could barely see them anymore.

  “Their horse came back from that church down there,” Begay said and pointed at the white church in the distance. “And their four-wheelers are parked there.”

  Then that was probably where they were, Palmer thought. But they still needed to be ready in case a shot rang out from one of these decrepit buildings on both sides of them. He didn’t think he needed to tell Begay that.

  More howls and yips sang out in the distance, and the wind shrieked down between the buildings as Palmer and Begay made their way down the dirt street towards the church like two gunslingers marching towards a shootout. Once they were in front of the double doors of the church, the wind was stronger, the sand swirling harder, pelting them like a dry stinging rain.

  Palmer looked to their left and saw shadows moving towards them in the sandstorm. Some of the shadows were definitely coyotes creeping forward, their skinny bodies hunched low to the ground. But there were also some kind of birds flying through the swirling sand; some were large birds like buzzards, but others were smaller … maybe they were bats. And there were other creatures on the ground slithering towards them. Snakes—had to be snakes.

  But there was something else out there moving around in the sandstorm—it looked almost like two people stumbling around out there.

  Could it be Stella or the man she was with, or Joe Blackhorn?

  Palmer was about to point the two people out to Begay, but then the two people were gone, lost again in the swirling sand.

  Begay and Palmer got to the front doors of the church and Palmer pushed on the door. It seemed like it was locked or barred shut. He kicked at it as Begay turned around, his shotgun aimed at the swirling sandstorm and the shadows advancing towards them. He was singing a prayer under his breath as he held his shotgun steady.

  Palmer kicked the door again.

  Then another kick.

  Then another.

  Finally the doors splintered and broke open. Palmer pushed the doors open all the way, his gun aimed into the gloom. “FBI! Everyone down! Now!”

  CHAPTER 70

  The pounding continued on the front doors of the church.

  Cole had his nine millimeter in his hand, the gun aimed at the double doors. His finger was on the trigger, ready to shoot.

  David still waited inside the circle of owl’s blood Joe had painted on the floor. Joe danced around the outside of the circle, shaking his carved stick decorated with feathers, beads, and claws. He continued singing a prayer.

  Stella was about to hurry towards Cole.

  “Stay there,” he told her, his gun still aimed at the double doors.

  Stella stopped—she trusted him.

  Cole didn’t have time to explain, but he wanted to be away from Stella, David, and Joe when the Ancient Enemy came inside. He was willing to be the first one taken when that thing came, willing to buy David some time if he had to. But he had a surprise for the Ancient Enemy. He was going to shoot it, he was going to burn it, he was going to hurt it somehow before it took him. He was going to make it pay for what it had done to his brother. He wasn’t going out without fighting to his death.

  And now the Ancient Enemy was here, pounding on the door, kicking it in.

  Cole was ready.

  But then he froze when he saw a man dressed in a dark coat and tie stumble inside the opened doors, a fog of swirling sand following the man inside.

  “FBI!” the man yelled, aiming his gun right at Cole. “Everyone down! Now!”

  Cole didn’t lower his weapon.

  “Drop your weapons now!” the man yelled.

  A split second later an even larger man entered the church right behind the man in the suit and tie. This man wore a bulky green Navajo Police jacket with a backpack over it. And he was carrying a shotgun.

  Joe had stopped dancing and singing around the circle.

  They all stared at the two men who stood in the doorway for a few seconds with the fierce sandstorm behind them.

  The other man, the Tribal Police officer, closed the doors on the howling wind and stinging sand. He managed to prop up a few of the pieces of wood that Cole had used before, bracing the doors closed again.

  “I’m not fucking playing around!” the FBI man screamed, still aiming his gun right at Cole and taking a step closer. “Lower your weapon now! Put it down on the floor and kick it away!”

  “Joe Blackhorn?” the Tribal Officer said as he turned back around to face them, casually holding the shotgun in his hands, but not aiming at them.

  Joe nodded. “I’m Joe Blackhorn.”

  Palmer’s eyes shifted to Joe and then to David, who stood inside the circle of blood with red symbols painted all over his face and hands. “What the fuck is going on here?”

  “I’m Captain Begay from the Navajo Tribal Police,” Begay announced, ignoring Palmer. “We’re here to apprehend these two and take David back to his family. This man with me is Special Agent Palmer from the FBI.”

  Joe smiled and shook his head slowly. “You two came at a very bad time.”

  Begay looked at Cole, locking eyes with him from across the room. “Sir, could you lower your weapon please?”

  Cole didn’t lower his gun. “How do we know you’re who you say you are?” Cole asked them.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Palmer growled. “I’ll show you my ID and badge after you throw your gun down on the floor.”

  “I’m not putting my gun down,” Cole said.

  “Wait,” Begay said, looking at Palmer.

  The Tribal Police officer seemed to be trying to calm the FBI agent down, Cole thought. He laid a big hand on the agent’s shoulder. “Just lower your weapon a little, please. We don’t want any accidents here.”

  The agent glared at Begay: Don’t tell me what to do, his eyes said. Then he looked back at Cole. “You’re a suspect in twenty-one murders, two stolen vehicles, and one bank robbery.” He smiled like he was delivering information about Cole that the others might not know about.
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br />   “You need to get away from those doors,” Joe told the two cops.

  Agent Palmer’s eyes shifted to the old man. “I’m not playing games anymore.”

  “The Darkwind is coming,” Joe said, looking right at Begay.

  “We need to brace those doors back up,” Cole said. “How many men you got outside?”

  “None of your fucking—”

  “We’re alone,” Begay said, interrupting Palmer. “We don’t want anyone hurt here,” he said again.

  “You need to get away from those doors,” Joe said again.

  The wind was shrieking outside. Sand pelted the walls and stained glass windows. More shadows moved past the windows outside—buzzards flying past the glass, their claws and beaks pecking at it on the way, punching out little holes in the colorful sections. Above them, more birds pecked at the holes in the roof, enlarging them.

  Outside, coyotes continued their howling. Now it sounded like there were hundreds of them.

  There was a pounding at the doors behind the two cops.

  Palmer and Begay turned and pointed their weapons at the doors, backing up a few steps across the debris-littered floor. Then Palmer turned back around and aimed his gun at Cole again. “Who’s out there?” he yelled. “Who’s with you?”

  “It’s the Darkwind,” Joe said.

  Begay didn’t wait for Palmer; he backed up even farther away from the doors, moving closer to Cole and the others.

  More pounding on the doors. It was so forceful, the doors barely holding.

  “Get back,” Begay told Palmer. “Get back away from those doors right now!”

  Cole moved farther away from Stella, Joe, and David, who had remained inside the circle of owl’s blood. Cole still held his gun steady on the FBI agent, but he wanted to be farther away from the others in case this madman started shooting at him.

  “Agent Palmer!” Begay shouted.

  Palmer looked back at the doors, aiming his gun. The doors were bulging in.

  “It’s the Ancient Enemy,” Begay told Palmer.

  Both men backed up towards Cole and all three of them aimed their weapons at the doors, which were still bulging inward like something heavy was leaning against them, pushing on them slowly.

  “It’s here,” Joe said, and he began singing again in a low voice, shaking his feathered stick at the air as he danced around the circle of dried blood.

  Stella looked at David. His eyes were wide with fear as he stared at the double doors of the church, watching them bulge inward.

  “You can do this, David!” she told him. “You can stop it!”

  Cole watched Stella and David for a second, but then he looked at the line of stained glass windows high up on the walls at the other side of the church. Tarantulas and scorpions were crawling all over the outside of the stained glass windows, somehow sticking to them in the sandstorm, and many of them were crawling in through the holes in the glass pecked away by the buzzards; dozens of the spiders and scorpions were falling down to the floor.

  A rattlesnake wriggled its way in from underneath the bulging doors.

  “No … no … no …” Palmer muttered. He shot at the snake, blowing the top half of it away in a spray of blood.

  The doors burst open, both doors slamming into the walls, one of them falling off of its hinges from the force.

  Two people stood in the open doorway with the swirling sandstorm behind them … the man and woman who used to be Zeke and Joanie.

  “David,” the woman who used to be Joanie said, lifting a thin arm up like she was reaching out towards him. “We’ve come to take you back home with us.”

  CHAPTER 71

  Zeke and Joanie stood in the doorway of the church. From behind them, materializing from the sandstorm, snakes crawled inside the building. Spiders and scorpions skittered among the slithering snakes, some of the spiders darted across Zeke and Joanie’s hiking boots, but the man and woman didn’t seem to notice or care.

  Zeke and Joanie were both dressed in soiled jeans and torn flannel shirts, but their faces weren’t their own anymore—their heads were covered with the dead faces and scalped hair of David’s parents. The skin was gray and mottled, their eyes rolling around loosely in the sockets behind their flesh masks. Their mouths hung open, teeth sticking up at odd angles, their tongues lolling around inside their mouths like the writhing snakes on the floor.

  Both of them took a step forward in unison.

  Stella and the others had seen that walk before—these were the dead controlled by the Ancient Enemy.

  “Oh God,” Begay said. “That can’t be possible. Those are David’s parents’ faces.”

  “Those two are already dead!” Cole yelled as he glanced at Begay and Palmer, who still held their weapons aimed at the slowly advancing couple. Cole looked at David, who stood inside the circle of blood, trembling with fear. “Those aren’t your parents, David!”

  “What the fuck is this?” Palmer whispered from beside Begay, shaking his head slowly like he was trying to clear it.

  “Those are David’s parents’ faces and hair on those people,” Begay said.

  Palmer nodded like he remembered the corpses of David’s parents. Their faces had been skinned away, their hair scalped, all of the pieces missing. But here those pieces were … stuck on these two people in the doorway.

  “Stop right there!” Palmer yelled at the man and woman. “FBI!”

  The couple took a step forward, their tongues swirling around inside the mouth holes of their skin masks, their eyeballs so large they looked ready to pop out of their dead faces. They walked with the jerky movements of zombies in horror films.

  “I said stop, or I’ll shoot!” Palmer warned. “I swear to God, I’ll shoot!”

  The snakes slithered forward, passing Zeke and Joanie. The spiders, desert rats, and scorpions poured in through the doorway, marching onward like an army. More spiders, rats, and scorpions spilled in through the broken stained glass windows on both sides of the church.

  “Shoot them with the shotgun!” Cole yelled at Begay.

  Begay didn’t even respond or look at Cole; he slithered out of his backpack and let it drop down to the floor, and then he pumped his shotgun and fired. The buckshot tore the arm off the woman at her shoulder, the arm disappearing in a spray of blood.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Palmer yelled at Begay, horrified.

  Begay didn’t answer. He pumped the shotgun again and blew part of the man’s leg off, the leg gone now below the knee.

  But the man and woman kept stumbling forward.

  “David,” the woman said in a guttural voice. “We want you to come with us. We want to show you things …”

  “How … how can they still be walking?” Palmer asked.

  “Because they’re already dead!” Begay yelled, pumping his shotgun again. “I know you don’t want to believe it, but it’s true!”

  Joe took the bottle of lighter fluid out of his coat pocket. He pointed the bottle down at the floor in front of him and squirted the fluid all over the floorboards in a wide arc. He plucked one of the large kitchen matches out of his jeans pocket and struck it. The flame sparked into life, and he threw the burning match down onto the wriggling spiders and scorpions coming towards him in a crawling, living wave. Flames whooshed up on the floor, burning the closest creatures. The others backed away from the flames for a moment.

  Cole glanced quickly at the flames and then he pulled the bottle of lighter fluid and the small box of kitchen matches out of his coat pocket that Joe had given to him a little earlier.

  He squirted the fluid all over the closest line of spiders, scorpions, rats, and rattlesnakes. He plucked a long kitchen match out of the box, but his fingers were shaking so badly he almost dropped the match and the box. But he was finally able to strike the match against the side of the box.

  It didn’t light.

  The creatures were getting closer, glistening now with the lighter fluid all over them. Cole slid the m
atch over and over against the side of the matchbox, but it still wouldn’t light. He wished he still had his brother’s Zippo lighter with him.

  After one more strike the match lit. He tossed it on top of the wet snakes, rats, scorpions, and spiders in front of him. The flames rose up immediately, the fire racing across the animals’ backs. The rats squealed and the snakes hissed; the animals writhed in pain on the floorboards.

  Cole took a step back. The fire was holding them back, but it would only work for so long … more of the creatures were coming right towards the wall of flames.

  “I said stop fucking walking!” Palmer yelled at Zeke and Joanie.

  The couple took another step forward, Zeke hopping on one leg now.

  Palmer squeezed off a shot, hitting the man dead center in the chest, knocking him back a step. But then he kept on hopping forward again.

  “David, we want you to come home with us,” the woman said, her voice just a gurgling grumble.

  The Ancient Enemy could put human masks on these people to look like David’s parents, but it couldn’t mimic their voices. The voice always sounded the same … that same guttural growl.

  Palmer shot three more times, knocking both the man and the woman back again, but neither one went down. “What the hell?” he muttered.

  Begay blew a hole in the side of the man’s face, erasing part of it. The rest of the man’s face slid off of his red glistening skull like a latex mask, the hair sliding off behind him. All that remained was the meat and tendons on his face, with some pieces of white bone gleaming through. The one eye that was left rolled around wildly in the socket. His jaw had been broken in half from the impact of the buckshot, but he still tried to gnash the teeth together that he had left.

  A new wave of spiders, rats, scorpions, and snakes were crawling in through the open doorway. More of them poured down from the broken windows. The buzzards and other birds and bats shattered the rest of the stained glass windows, pouring in and swirling above them, flying through the smoke from the fires that burned inside the church.