Valley of the Broken (Sage of Sevens Book 1)

by K. F. Baugh

  “It’s all right, Sage.” Tim’s voice came from behind her. After a moment, she felt the weight of his hand on her bowed head. “Everything’s all right.”

  Sage jerked away and wiped her mouth with a shaking hand. “How can you say that?” she croaked. “Did you not see what happened to those two?”

  “They’re at peace.” Tim crouched next to her. “They aren’t suffering anymore.”

  Sage shook her head, but a soft breath of air brushed her damp forehead. “He’s right, Broken One,” the Wind whispered in her ear. “They’re at peace now. Their journey with suffering is at an end.”

  “Let me get you something to drink.”

  “Thanks,” she croaked when he handed the canteen to her.

  “You rest. I’m going to try and put the boards back on the entrance. To keep it safe until the authorities get here.”

  Sage nodded and leaned against an aspen trunk while Gus licked at the gashes on her legs. The gentle breeze soothed her throbbing head. Sage closed her eyes, trying to regain her earlier attitude of detachment, but the vision she’d had earlier flashed again into her mind.

  Why did it keep interrupting her thoughts? None of the details matched the reality that surrounded her. The vision showed a cave with a pool in front of it; torn clothes strewn about the edge of the pond and turbulent pockets of mud and snow; jagged screams and terror; blood, everywhere blood.

  Sage opened her eyes and studied the dusty depression where Tim’s pack lay next to her own. Dry as a bone. No snow, no torn clothes, no screams. And there was no cave; just the dilapidated entrance to an old mine. Nothing matched, yet in her gut she knew it was the same place as her vision.

  Tim shouldered both packs and turned to her. “Ready to head out?”

  “Yes.” Sage sighed as she rose. The answer was here, she just needed more time to make the connections. But it was late, and she wanted to get far away from this place before nightfall.

  “Wait,” Tim said when they reached the edge of the clearing. He turned back. “I forgot my tweezers and that tooth … bone thing. Whatever it was.”

  Sage shuddered and followed him. “Don’t touch it. Do you have a bag you could put it in?”

  Tim knelt before the tweezers and hesitated.

  “What?” Sage asked.

  “Well, the tweezers are here, but the bone thing’s gone.” He sifted through the dirt and pebbles surrounding the rock while Gus diligently followed with his nose. Finally Tim stood and shrugged. “It’s not here.”

  The sun disappeared behind a cloud and Sage’s gaze darted around the clearing. Now it seemed almost as sinister as the mine. “We should have bagged it sooner.”

  “Maybe the breeze blew it away?” Tim slipped his tweezers into his pocket.

  “Maybe. Probably not,” Sage said. Thunderheads scuttled above them and plunged the woods into shadowy darkness.

  “Let’s go,” Sage whispered and in silent agreement the three of them raced along the trail.

  “Where’s your car?” She asked, out of breath, once they were back at the Jeep.

  “Didn’t drive. I hiked.” Tim hitched the backpack on his hips and secured the waist belt.

  “All the way from town?”

  “No, outside of town some retired guy pulled over and asked me if I wanted a ride. He dropped me off a few miles away from here.”

  “That’s convenient.” The words left Sage’s mouth before she could stop them.

  “What do you mean?” Tim looked up.

  She opened the tailgate, and Gus hopped in. “This place is off the beaten path. It’s pretty convenient that you happened to arrive here minutes after I was attacked.”

  “I don’t understand,” Tim said, his eyes hardening. “Are you accusing me of something?”

  Sage leaned against the Jeep; she watched him but remained silent.

  Tim glared at her, his cheeks flushed. After a few moments, Sage turned and studied Gus. The dog offered her a panting grin but nothing else. Suddenly drained of all energy, Sage sighed and walked around to the driver’s side.

  “Get in the car,” she said. “I’ll give you a ride back into town. You can’t rely on mysterious drivers all the time. They tend not to follow through when you need them the most.”

  “Thanks,” Tim said getting in. He remained silent for the rest of the trip.

  Sage shot him an occasional glance, but her focus on navigating the rough road conditions soon eclipsed the many questions that still clawed at the edge of her mind.

  Chapter Eight

  Darkness blanketed Black Mills by the time Sage and Tim pulled into town.

  “You want me to drop you off at your house?” Sage asked.

  Tim considered for a minute. “The police department is closer than my house. Why don’t we go there, and dispatch will probably put us through to whoever we need to talk to?”

  “The police department?” Sage dropped her foot off the clutch, and the Jeep nearly stalled.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “No, it’s fine,” Sage answered weakly. She gunned her engine back to life and turned toward the small police station on Main Street while trying to calm her racing heart. “I’m just ready for this to be over with.”

  “Me too.”

  Sage coasted into a parking spot on the nearly deserted street and killed the engine. She opened her door, but Tim hesitated.

  “What is it?” She asked.

  “I’m thinking about Shaun and Tabitha’s families. In a very short time they’re going to learn their worst fears are true.”

  Sage leaned back against her seat. “Well, at least they’ll know instead of wondering what happened to the people they loved. Knowing is better than …” Her voice cracked, and she took a deep shuddering breath. “It’s better than spending your life searching for a truth you can’t find.”

  Tim turned to her. “Did you--”

  “Come on.” Sage swung herself from the car and opened the door for Gus. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Tim stopped to get his backpack and followed Sage to the glass door. They entered and looked around, but the small reception area was completely deserted.

  “Hello?” Sage hollered. “Anyone here?”

  “It looks like everyone’s gone for the night.” Tim pulled a dirty brown phone across the counter and picked up the handset. “Hello, Dispatch? This is Tim Burgney, and I think I have some important information. Our discovery concerns Shaun Coulter and Tabitha Smalley. We think we found their … remains.”

  Sage watched Tim’s expression mutate into a scowl.

  “Well, can you patch me through to the Sheriff?”

  Another silence and then Tim snapped, “This is my official report. I need to speak to someone because I’m certainly not waiting until tomorrow.” He fell silent and listened to the phone while Sage tried to hide her growing agitation. Past visits to police stations replayed through her mind with disturbing clarity. They weren’t fond memories.

  Tim finally replaced the handset in the cradle.

  “What going on?” Sage asked.

  “They said they’d send someone over, but it might take a while. Evidently all the officers and deputies in the county are tied up. Someone shot some fireworks off on 8th Street, and a shed caught on fire.”

  Sage snorted. “Small town drama. Well, whatever. I’m out of here.” She snapped her fingers, and Gus rose from the floor and trotted to her side.

  “You can’t leave. We have to report what we saw up there.”

  “You stay if you want, Tim, but I’m not going to wait around all night.”

  “But what about the kids’ parents?” He asked.

  “I don’t know them.”

  “Who cares? It’s your responsibility to report this. How can you be so callous?”

  Sage closed her eyes. She saw another room, similar to one where she’d locked away her emotions after that day’s grisly discovery. But this was the room she rarely opened the door to. Sh
e watched the handle rattle and knew it was time to leave.

  “Look, Tim, it’s not going to take two of us to report what we found. Besides, you’re a teacher, right? I’m sure you know the all authorities, the parents, everyone who needs to know.”

  “You’re just going to bail on me?” Tim took a step toward her. Disbelief enhanced the fine lines around his eyes.

  Sage looked away. The poor kids were already dead. She couldn’t do anything to help them now. She still didn’t even understand why the Wind had dragged her into this tragedy.

  Gus nosed her hand, and she looked down at him. What are we even doing here, boy? The dog gazed at her unblinkingly. Sage knew that look; it oozed with self-righteousness. She nudged Gus with her foot. Maybe you should have stayed in the car.

  Gus chuffed, then, tail wagging, walked over to Tim and sat at his feet.

  “Excuse me,” a voice interrupted. Sage and Tim jumped.

  They turned and saw an officer with a laptop standing behind the wooden desk. “I understand you think you may have some information about the Coulter-Smalley disappearance.”

  “Where the hell did you come from?” Sage snapped. “Did you not hear us before?”

  “Yes, officer.” Tim hurriedly stepped in front of Sage. “We’re ready to talk if you are.”

  “Follow me, please.” The officer turned and led them through several desks.

  “Hey, you need to calm down a little,” Tim whispered, as they walked. “You don’t want to antagonize the guy.”

  “I couldn’t care less about antagonizing him. This is his job.”

  “Just let me do the talking until you cool down. You still need to get to the hospital tonight, and I’d rather we wrap this up as quickly as possible.”

  “The hospital?” Sage stopped short. “Why?”

  Tim stopped and shook his head. “You may have forgotten, but a coyote pack attacked you a few hours ago.” He gestured to her legs, now hidden by a fresh set of pants from her camping gear. “You might still need stitches, and probably a rabies shot. You have to be in pain, right?”

  “Right. Guess I … got so focused on this that I blocked it out,” Sage said, knowing most of the wounds were already gone, except the one in her shoulder. It still stung.

  The man stood beside an open door and gestured for them to enter.

  “Now why don’t you two tell me what you think you saw,” the officer instructed once they all sat.

  “Why do you keep saying think like we’re trying to report some elaborate story we made up?” Sage snapped.

  Tim put a restraining hand on her forearm. “What’s your name, sir?”

  “Olson,” the man answered without looking up from his computer.

  “Officer Olson, I’m Tim Burgney. My friend Sage and I’ve seen some pretty horrific things today, and we are both a little shaken up.”

  Olson finally raised his eyes from the screen. “Just tell me what you saw.”

  Tim quickly launched into their discovery in the mine, probably to keep her quiet. As she listened, however, Sage relaxed. Tim was both articulate and detailed but wisely left out some of the more unbelievable details, like the coyotes forcing Sage down the mine shaft and the disappearing projectile. She appreciated his discretion and kept silent except to agree the few times Tim checked with her for confirmation.

  When Tim finished, Olson glanced up from his computer. “I’m going to re-read through the details of your statement and check to make sure I got everything right. That okay with you?”

  “Yes.” Sage nodded. Maybe the guy was finally taking them seriously.

  Unfortunately over the next hour of grilling, Sage and eventually even Tim seemed to realize that Olson had no interest in their findings; only in discrediting them.

  “So you say the coyotes ran at you when you first entered the mine?” He asked Sage for what seemed like the hundredth time. Tim squeezed her arm and excused himself to the bathroom.

  “Yes,” she answered dully, not sure how much more she could take of this.

  “I find that hard to believe, Miss …”

  “Sage’s fine.”

  “Coyotes don’t usually attack grown adults.”

  She crossed her arms. “Guess these ones didn’t read their instruction manual.”

  Olson’s face grew red. “If you were attacked as violently as you claim, how were you even able to walk in here? Where is the evidence of your injuries?”

  Not this again, Sage’s stomach clenched. Olson’s smirk brought back too many memories of similar meetings, with social workers, police, teachers; all with demands for evidence her body wouldn’t let her provide. Moments of fear and confusion from her childhood paraded through her mind like a macabre play.

  She remembered the time Uncle Brian beat her so badly that even the meth heads from the trailer next door had noticed and called the police. By the time the cops had arrived, loaded her into the ambulance, and got her to the hospital, her injuries were already almost gone. From behind the curtain that enclosed her hospital bed, she had heard the doctors and police whispering. They agreed that the meth heads had exaggerated the situation. Besides, without evidence, their hands were tied. The kid was weird, but not seriously injured.

  Gus nuzzled her leg, rescuing her from the unwanted memory, and Sage shook herself. Enough of this. She had to get away from this idiot and back outside. It was impossible to focus in here. She needed the Wind and its clarity; nothing about this day made sense.

  “Well, I’m done.” Sage stood and shoved the chair behind her. “I’ve given you my info, and grilling me with more dumbass questions isn’t going to change anything.”

  “Excuse me?” Glaring at her from across the table, Olson snapped the computer shut.

  “I said—”

  “Wait a second,” Tim said from where he’d stood, unnoticed, at the door. “I think we’re all a little on edge. Our town’s lost two young people. Even if the remains turn out not to be theirs, Sage and I discovered something terrible. It’s been a long day. Surely you understand we’re exhausted, and Sage should be getting some medical attention as soon as possible.”

  Olson narrowed his eyes. “Listen, buddy, I don’t like the way—”

  “There seems to be a communication problem between you and us, Officer, so I took the liberty of contacting the Sheriff’s Office.” Tim moved to stand over Olson, his voice no longer friendly. “It sounds like they’re sending someone over. My guess is they should be here any minute. Why don’t Sage and I stretch our legs while we wait?”

  Olson’s chair squealed, and he rose to face Tim. After a brief glaring contest, Olson grabbed his computer and stormed from the interview room.

  Sage stood and let out a sharp laugh. “How did you do that? I thought your phone was dead.”

  “Yeah, it was.” Tim smiled. “I wasn’t going to the bathroom. I ran out to the Jeep, grabbed my phone and charger and found an outlet in an empty office.”

  “I’m impressed,” Sage said. And she was. Tim gave off a follow-the-rules, good guy vibe. She hadn’t expected him to think outside of the box.

  Still, she couldn’t wait to get out of here and hopefully never cross paths with the guy again. What did she really know about Tim, anyway? They’d been thrown together in a way that bypassed her typical protective barriers. Besides Liddy and Gus, Sage purposefully kept her world small and safe. She didn’t want this ripple-effect of new acquaintances and contacts. Things needed to return to normal as quickly as possible.

  Footsteps sounded in the hallway, followed by raised voices. Sheriff Davis burst into the room, followed by a loudly protesting Olson.

  The next twenty minutes were drastically different than the ones that preceded them. While Olson had stalled and tried to find flaws in both Sage and Tim’s accounts, the sheriff listened, tight-lipped, with few interruptions. Sage even found herself responding to a few of Sheriff Davis’s perceptive questions toward the end of their interview. Once finished, Davis barke
d a series of orders into his phone, directives meant to send much of the law enforcement of the town and county into action.

  “So what was that guy’s problem anyway?” Tim asked as the sheriff walked them to Sage’s car.

  “Olson? I have no idea,” Davis said. “Thought he’d been kind of a bump on a log in this department, according to the local gossip. Maybe you rubbed him the wrong way.”

  Tim nodded.

  “I know I did,” Sage said.

  A brief grin split the sheriff’s tense face. “I know you did too. You can bet your boots he won’t like either of you by the time I finishing reaming his Police Chief. Now if you’ll excuse me, I got a couple of rough hours ahead of me.” He glanced down at his chirping phone and swore softly. “Looks like some campers from Texas have gone AWOL too. Guess this isn’t the only missing persons case in the valley anymore.” He glanced at Tim and Sage. “Thank you, both of you, for all your patience,” he said, then hurried off to his truck.

  “Where do you want me to drop you?” Sage asked once they were in the car.

  Tim slammed the car door. “We’re not headed to my place. We need to get you to the hospital. I’m worried you might be in shock. You don’t seem to be in pain at all, and that’s not normal.” He reached toward Sage’s forehead.

  Sage jerked away from his hand. Not normal? The story of her life. “You need to stop worrying about me. I can take care of myself.”

  “But what if they keep you overnight? I could watch Gus. Or drop him off somewhere.”

  “Just tell me where you live, Tim. I want this day to be over.”

  “Listen, you’ve got to get those wounds looked at. The sooner you get a rabies shot, the better. It’s not something to mess around with.”

  Sage weighed her options. Concern creased Tim’s forehead, but his jaw was clenched in determination. This guy was almost as stubborn as her. “Okay, Boy Scout. If you let me drop you off, I promise I’ll get the care I need.”