Bobby shrugged.
“Perfect.” Decker brought up the photograph of the dead miners huddled in the passageway that became their tomb. He enlarged the section showing the symbol scratched into the earth—two inward facing arrows within a roughly drawn circle—and held the screen toward Bobby. “Do you recognize this?”
“Let me get a closer look.” Bobby leaned forward, squinting at the screen. He pursed his lips. “That’s a protection symbol. The arrows represent a defense against harm. The unbroken circle signifies safety. Together they act as a powerful shield against those of malevolent intent.”
“Will it restrain the Baykok?”
Again, the old man shrugged. “I do not know. I’ve never met a Baykok. In theory, the spirit should not be able to pass beyond the protection symbol and harm those on the other side of it. At least, that’s what the dead prospectors pictured in this photograph clearly believed. One of them must have possessed at least a smattering of Native American knowledge. According to legend, the Baykok rips its victims open to reach their internal organs, which it then devours, after leaving stones as replacements. Those men might have died sheltering there, but they show no signs of being attacked, so their assumption regarding the symbol was probably correct.”
“Good enough for me,” Decker said. The legend of the Baykok was accurate on some counts, but wrong on others. It did indeed rip its victims open, but it didn’t leave stones in place of their internal organs. At least if the bodies he’d examined were any indication. He didn’t mention this to Bobby, though. He slipped the phone back into his pocket as Barnes returned, map in hand.
“Here we are.” Barnes spread the map on the coffee table and offered Bobby a pen. “You think you can mark Shilah’s location on this?”
“I believe so.” The old man leaned forward in his chair, studying the well-worn map with a furrowed brow. He reached out with a shaky hand and marked a spot southeast of Haley and the Ghost Canyon Mine. “This is where you will find the warrior, Shilah.”
“Thank you.” Decker picked the map up and folded it, feeling a renewed hope. With this knowledge they could defeat the creature, at least if Travis Biggs had correctly interpreted Karuk’s instructions about returning the warrior’s summoned spirit back to the realm of the dead. Yet a lingering doubt remained at the back of Decker’s mind since Biggs himself had not managed to lift the curse.
“You ready to get back to Haley?” Barnes asked.
“Yes. The sooner the better,” Decker replied. He turned to the old man. “No need to get up. We’ll show ourselves out. You’ve been most helpful.”
“My pleasure. If you need more information, please do come back.” Bobby looked up with watery eyes. “I assume that you’re going to visit Shilah’s grave.”
“We are.” Decker nodded.
“I have just one request then,” Bobby said. “Tread lightly and treat the site with reverence. Shilah might not rest in our traditional burial grounds, but his grave is still a spiritual place.”
“You have my word,” Decker said. Then he turned, clutching the map, and started toward the door.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Decker and Barnes left the Paiute colony behind and drove back toward Haley. It was rush hour now and getting dark, the November sun already out of sight behind the distant mountains. The traffic on the interstate was bumper-to-bumper. Decker fidgeted in his seat, frustrated by the slow going. After fifteen minutes, during which they only moved half a mile, Barnes reached the limit of his patience. He switched on the car’s strobes and steered into the emergency lane. Soon they were around the worst of the downtown traffic. He turned the strobes back off and they continued to their destination, arriving back in Haley a little before 6 PM. The sun had set now. The rugged desert landscape was bathed only in the reflected light of the moon. Decker wasted no time in jumping from the vehicle and heading inside, where he encountered Robyn and Special Agent Fowler standing in the hotel lobby, deep in conversation.
When he entered, Fowler turned. “You’re back. Good. I hope you have some clue how to proceed, because the raid on Wagner Mitchell’s house was a complete bust and I’m out of ideas.”
“He does,” Special Agent Barnes replied, following behind Decker.
“The skeleton in your museum,” Decker said, looking at Robyn. “Where did you find it?”
“Up near the mine entrance, along the trail,” Robyn answered. “I already told you that.”
“No. I mean, where exactly did you find it? You said the body was dumped over the side of the trail. How far from the mine?”
“Not far. Maybe a few hundred feet. The body was at the bottom of an overgrown ditch. We were cutting back the creosote bushes to run a power line up there from town. That’s when we found him.”
Decker turned to Barnes. “It has to be Karuk. The skeleton’s location and method of death fit.”
“Who’s Karuk?” Fowler asked.
“He was an associate of Travis Biggs, a prospector back in the late 1800s. The two of them are responsible for the creature in the mine.”
“Travis Biggs?” Fowler shook his head. “Who’s he?”
“An ancestor of Harlan Biggs, one of the two men we found at the second mine entrance. Travis wrote a journal detailing everything he’d done and the reason. Harlan still possessed the old journal—it was probably a family heirloom—which is what prompted him to seek out the mine,” Decker said, quickly explaining about the previously undiscovered gold the prospector had found, and his plan to use Karuk’s knowledge of Native American belief to keep it for himself. “The disgraced Paiute warrior, Shilah, is the key to all of this. His restless spirit became the Baykok. That’s what has been killing people.”
“This is getting weirder by the minute,” Fowler grumbled. “I’ve never even heard of a Baykok.”
“Neither had I until today.” Decker was already crossing the lobby toward the corridor leading to the museum room. “Right now, I must see that skeleton.”
“What does the skeleton have to do with all this?” Robyn asked, as the other three tagged along behind.
“Everything. It’s the key to defeating the creature.” Decker waited for Robyn to unlock the door and then stepped inside, hurrying across to the glass display case in the center of the room. “Something’s been bothering me ever since I first looked at the skeleton, but I couldn’t figure out what. It was only after I read the Journal that I realized.”
“Are you going to share?” Fowler asked.
“Just as soon as I confirm my suspicion.” Decker turned to Robyn. “Do you have the key to this cabinet? Can we open it?”
Robyn hesitated a moment, then nodded. “It’s in the office. I’ll get it.”
“Hurry,” Decker said. “It’s already dark out and we have a lot to do.”
“Wait here.” Robyn hurried from the room. Less than a minute later she returned with a bunch of keys. She pawed through them until she found the correct key and unlocked the case. She lifted the entire glass side panel out and set it down, leaning it against the stand. She looked sideways at Decker. “Done. It’s all yours.”
“Thank you.” Decker bent over and reached inside the case, nudging the remains of the tattered duster gently aside to avoid damaging it. He pointed to the area below the skeleton’s pelvis. “See here? There are more bones than there should be.”
“Oh my God,” Robyn whispered. “You’re right. There’s an extra leg bone up by the left femur. I’ve seen it before, but I just assumed it was misplaced from somewhere else in the body. I never gave it any thought. Now it seems so obvious. It can’t be from the same skeleton. How did it get there? And where did it come from?”
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like you to meet Shilah,” Decker said. “Or at least, his fibula.”
“That’s why the creature didn’t leave after Travis Biggs returned Shilah’s bones to the grave,” Barnes said. “That’s the reason it’s still here.”
“Exactly.�
� Decker smiled. “Travis couldn’t return all the bones, although he didn’t know it at the time. Karuk didn’t trust the shifty prospector. He kept the bone hidden in his duster as insurance. Probably figured he’d hide it when they got back to town so that Travis would still need him.”
“But that’s not how it worked out. Biggs figured he had no more use for Karuk, since he already knew how to lift the curse on the mine,” Barnes said. “He wanted the gold for himself and couldn’t see any point in waiting around to dispose of the only other person who knew of its existence.”
“But he wasn’t aware of the bone Karuk had kept back. When he shot him and pushed his corpse off the trail, he also lost the ability to send Shilah’s spirit, and the supernatural creature he’d become, back to its resting place and make the mine safe again.”
“So, if we return that bone to Shilah’s grave, the creature will go away?” Barnes asked.
“That’s the theory,” Decker said. He turned to Robyn. “Was the skeleton articulated when you moved it?”
“Partly, yes.” Robyn motioned to the upper body. “The torso was still complete. The scraps of clothing still adhering to the corpse kept it together. We were able to move it with little trouble. The arms and legs, not so much. As you can see, we’re missing small bones in the feet. Scavengers probably carried them off. Some of the leg and arm bones got scattered too. We had to search for them in the surrounding area. That’s why I thought the third fibula was just a bone we hadn’t placed correctly when we reassembled the skeleton. It’s not like I’m an expert on this stuff. I wasn’t expecting there to be one bone from a second body.”
“That presents a problem,” Barnes said. “All three fibulae look similar. If the leg bones became scattered and were only put back in place after being moved to this display case, how do we know which belong to Karuk, and which one must be returned to Shilah’s grave?”
“We don’t,” Decker said. “Maybe a trained medical professional could tell us, but as it stands, any of the three could belong to Shilah. And if we return the wrong one, the creature will remain and most likely kill again.”
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Hector Ramirez and Emmanuel Garcia were more scared than at any other time in their lives. The two Mexicans sat huddled in the darkness, with only the beam from their flashlights to illuminate the tunnel in which they had remained hidden for much of the past twenty-four hours. They had entered the mine the previous afternoon and followed the map provided by the owner of the casino where they had spent the last three weeks working as low-paid day laborers. What began as an easy, if unusual chore—retrieving some lumps of quartz from a location deep inside the mine—had quickly turned into a nightmare they had not yet escaped. As they followed the tunnels deeper underground, nearing their destination, Hector had noticed an object on the ground ahead of them, laying half buried in the sandy ground.
A skull.
It gleamed white in the twin beams from their flashlights, hollow eye sockets staring down the tunnel in a deathly gaze that would never end. Scattered nearby were more bones and threads of clothing, including a pair of rotten suspenders, dating the remains back to pioneer days. The two Mexicans continued on, disturbed by their grisly discovery, but more afraid of the two men that waited at the mine entrance than they were of a man who had passed on more than a hundred years since.
But when they arrived at the indicated spot, a dead-end tunnel far from the gold mine’s entrance where twinkling rivers of quartz crystal weaved along the rocky walls, they came across something much worse. Three mummified corpses huddled together as if they had just sat down to wait for their own demise. Scratched into the earth in front of them was a strange symbol neither man recognized.
It didn’t take long to decide it wasn’t worth sticking around. The tunnels contained an ancient evil and these three corpses proved it. Besides, they could actually feel it oozing from the very rocks around them and permeating the atmosphere, thick and cloying. They didn’t care now if the two white men waiting above wanted some stupid chunks of quartz, or more accurately, what was contained within the crystalline rocks. Hector and Emmanuel were not stupid. There was gold here. Lots of it. But not enough to lose their lives over and end up like the three unfortunate souls huddled at the back of the tunnel. Especially since they were not the ones who would benefit from the wealth of precious metals surrounding them.
The Mexicans turned to head back, clutching their pickaxes tighter, because now they believed they were not alone in the darkness.
And they were right.
Something was moving toward them, out of sight beyond a bend in the tunnel. They could hear its footfalls, and the strange shuffling, popping sounds that grew louder with each moment.
The two men froze, caught in a dreadful realization that they were trapped. If they continued upon their route back to the surface, they would run into whatever was coming their way, and they were sure it was nothing good. But if they retreated, there was nowhere to go except a dead-end, and judging by the corpses huddled there, it hadn’t worked out too well for the last people to make that decision.
Yet they had no choice. Whatever was prowling the tunnels was surely not friendly, and they didn’t wish to encounter it, so they did the only thing possible. They fled back into the tunnel as far as they could go. And there they waited, scared and alone, with only the three mummified corpses for company. And when the beast came into view, red eyes glowing like the fires of hell, they cowered and whimpered and prayed for deliverance from the evil drawing closer with each step.
At least until they heard the voice whispering inside their heads, telling them that everything would be okay. It would all be over soon. All they had to do was remain still and let the creature have its way.
But then something strange happened. The skin-draped skeleton slinking toward them came to a halt a few feet from the symbol drawn on the ground. It stood there, glaring at them, the fire in its eyes fading, and taking with it the whispered voice. Then, with a shriek of frustration, the creature turned back the way it came, leaving the pair of terrified Mexicans alone.
They hadn’t seen it since.
Unwilling to move, fearful the nightmarish creature was waiting in the darkness beyond their flashlights, they settled onto the ground. After a while they turned one flashlight off to conserve battery power. And there they waited as day turned to night and back into day again. Now, as it approached nightfall for a second day, hunger gnawing their stomachs, they realized they must either move or starve to death just like their deceased companions.
After a brief discussion, they decided to try for the surface. They moved reluctantly, stepping past the protection symbol, and inching their way down the tunnel, using both flashlights even though one was visibly dimming, the batteries almost drained. They kept the beams aimed low and moved in silence lest they alert the creature to their presence.
For a while all went well. They followed the map back through the twisting maze of tunnels, and soon their spirits lifted upon the realization that they might actually make it out alive. Then, from somewhere deeper within the mine, they heard it. An inhuman shriek that echoed through the shafts and tunnels, bouncing off the narrow stone walls.
They quickened their pace, eager to escape, but it was not enough. The creature was coming. They could hear it growing closer, moving with surprising speed.
When Emmanuelle tripped, his foot catching a jagged rock and sending him sprawling, Hector turned back to help him up. But he’d fallen hard, his leg twisting at an unnatural angle as he landed. His scream of pain was only slightly less unnerving than the screech of anticipation from the darkness in the tunnel behind them. Hector summed up the situation, mumbled a brief apology in Spanish, then turned and fled despite his friend’s desperate pleas for help. As he approached the mine entrance, another scream reached his ears, shrill and full of terror. At least, until it was suddenly cut off.
Hector stumbled forward, out of the mine and int
o the cool desert night. The full moon hung low in the sky, bathing the landscape in a silvery glow. He turned and looked back the way he’d come, expecting to see the creature giving chase, but the mine’s entrance was nothing but a yawning, dark hole in the earth. And there, at the entrance, he noticed another symbol just like the one that had protected them the previous evening. Or at least, the remains of it. In his haste to escape, Hector had stood upon the crudely drawn symbol, scuffing it up and leaving it only half visible. He cursed his own stupidity. Someone had tried to keep the creature contained, until he’d come along and ruined it. Worse, he couldn’t even redraw it, because he didn’t remember exactly what the symbol was meant to look like.
Hector realized there was only one option. He must leave this place as quickly as possible. He turned and ran, clawing his way through the bushes clogging the rocky crevice. As he expected, there was no sign of his employers or the truck. Yet something was different. The entire area was ringed with yellow crime scene tape that flapped in the breeze. But there was no time to investigate this new development. Hector pushed his way past the tape and fled down the canyon trail as fast as his legs would carry him. A minute later the creature found the mine’s entrance, and unhindered by the destroyed symbol, emerged and spread its wings, then took to the sky with a triumphant wail.
Chapter Sixty
Decker stood in the Last Chance Hotel and Saloon’s museum room, his gaze resting upon the skeleton of the man they believed was Karuk, shot in the back by his partner almost fourteen decades earlier. In particular, he studied the three leg bones, aware time was growing short. Realizing there was no definitive way to identify which belonged with the skeleton, and which one had been removed from the grave of Shilah, the disgraced Paiute warrior, he decided. “We take all three.”
Ghost Canyon (The John Decker Supernatural Thriller Series Book 7) Page 22
