The Graves of Plague Canyon (The Downwinders Book 3)

by Michael Richan

  Deem tried to make out Winn’s features, but they were very dim. Finally she could see that he was pointing to the split in the rock where they had entered the room. Deem focused in that direction, and Winn turned off his flashlight. She saw it.

  The figure was faintly glowing, moving toward them, drifting off the ground. It knew they were there, and it was rapidly approaching.

  Deem wanted to lean over to her right and whisper to Winn, but she thought better of it, worried that the sound might set the figure off. As it approached, she could see that it was a Native American man. He stopped about five feet from them, and hung in the air, observing them.

  Then a chill went down her spine as she heard the words, “it’s safe” whispered in her left ear. She turned with a start, and was shocked to see the man now next to her, his mouth just inches from her ear.

  “It’s safe,” he repeated, and vanished. She turned her head back toward the split in the rock, and the man had returned to his position five feet from them.

  She decided to take him at his word, and dropped into the River. The man sat down cross-legged in front of them.

  You can tell him it’s safe, he can see me, the man said. Deem dropped out of the River and leaned over to Winn. She whispered, “Drop in, it’s safe.” Then she reentered the flow.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a white man or woman in here, the man said. Even longer since it was a medicine man or woman.

  Are you Shipewe? Deem asked.

  How do you know my name? the man replied.

  The man who told us about this place, Deem said. Aldus.

  I remember Aldus, Shipewe said. It was a long time ago.

  He’s dead now, Winn offered.

  I would expect so, Shipewe replied. Are you here for the rock’s dust?

  Yes, Deem answered. We have a vacuum box over there, it’s collecting some.

  There is plenty, and you are welcome to it. What are your names?

  I’m Deem, and he’s Winn, she replied.

  She speaks for you? Shipewe asked Winn.

  A lot of the time, yes, Winn replied.

  Then I will talk with her, Shipewe said to Winn, turning back to Deem. You are welcome to collect the rock dust, but you must not go deeper into the cave. There is an evil spirit trapped there many years ago by my ancestors, and it is very dangerous.

  Aldus told us about it, Deem replied. We’re just going to wait here until the vacuum box is full.

  You will use the dust for medicine? Shipewe asked.

  Yes, Deem answered. A girl is sick. We’re collecting it to cure her.

  Shipewe nodded an approval.

  How long has it been, Winn?

  Winn checked his watch. Another twenty minutes to go.

  We’ll leave soon, Deem said.

  You must be careful, Shipewe said. Tankawa starts his patrol presently. He’s easily frightened, and he makes a loud cry when he’s alarmed. If he sees you, it will be difficult for you to leave without him waking the others.

  Can you talk to him? Ask him not to be alarmed if he sees us?

  I will try, Shipewe replied, but he is young and doesn’t realize our people have changed. When they arise, they are no longer peaceful, as they used to be. They come out of the ground angry, and bloodthirsty.

  We’ll leave as quietly and as quickly as we can, Deem replied. Should we cut it short, Winn?

  I think we should, Winn replied. It might not require a full box of callum to cure Carma’s niece. For all we know, we have more than enough already. I don’t want to get caught with an angry mob chasing us through that hole.

  Thank you, Shipewe, Deem said. We appreciate your advice.

  Good luck to you both, Shipewe said, and turned, drifting back the way he’d come.

  Why can’t all ghosts be like that? Deem said to Winn.

  I know, Winn replied.

  Deem dropped out of the River, rose and stretched, then grabbed the vacuum box from the gypsum chandelier and closed the lid. She stuffed it into her backpack, and the two of them walked quickly to the split in the rock, almost catching up with Shipewe in the process.

  Inside the necropolis, only Shipewe’s figure could be seen. He was moving away from them, toward a spot near the center of the room. Winn aimed his flashlight at the ground and the two of them moved through the graves as rapidly and silently as possible.

  When they were two-thirds of the way to the stone archway, Winn stopped and pointed at a figure across the room from them. It was moving in the same direction they were, toward the archway that led to the first room. As they resumed their walking, the figure moved farther, and Deem realized it would cut them off right at the room’s exit. As Winn came closer to the archway, he tried stopping, hoping the figure would continue moving, and they could wait for it to pass before proceeding, but it came to a stop as soon as they did, and it resumed moving when Winn took a step. A confrontation was coming.

  The figure reached the archway just before them, and stood in front of it, blocking their way. The ghostly image was tall, broad shouldered, and floating a few inches off the ground, which gave it an imposing height. Deem badly wanted to drop into the River, but resisted. Shipewe had been one thing, but this figure, Tankawa, and the way it had cut them off, seemed anything but safe.

  Deem and Winn stood frozen side by side, waiting to see what the figure would do. Winn clicked off his flashlight, and Tankawa became more visible. Not as vivid as a viewing in the River would provide, but enough that Deem could see his arms and hands.

  Tankawa moved slowly toward them. He raised his hand, and a finger extended to Winn. Deem watched as the finger touched his cheek, and Winn silently winced.

  Then Tankawa moved to her, and she braced herself. His finger approached her face, and she felt an electrical charge around her. Hair on her arms began to stand on end, and she felt a tingling in her cheek where his finger was approaching. When it touched her, she felt a blast of sharp pain, a cold that shot into her and began to spread through her head.

  She whimpered; the tiniest, faintest whimper of pain.

  Tankawa opened his mouth and let out a scream that reverberated throughout the chamber. That’ll literally wake the dead, Deem thought.

  She saw Winn turn to look into the necropolis behind them, so she turned as well. Hundreds of ghosts were rising from the graves, like zombies digging themselves out of the dirt.

  Winn clicked on his flashlight and took off running, Deem following right behind him. They passed through Tankawa just as he became corporeal, and Deem knew he’d be on their heels, ready to slash at them with hands that could tear flesh.

  Winn was running as fast as he could while navigating around the structures in the large room. The green X glowed in the distance, seemingly a million miles away.

  “Come on!” Winn called after Deem, who turned on her flashlight as well. They raced in and around the low-rising brick walls, their target in the distance slowly approaching. The room began to fill with the screams and echoes of the ghosts as they spilled through the archway, all becoming corporeal, all turning to zombighosts, all able to rip through them if they reached them. Deem imagined herself and Winn as two shredded bodies, lying near the exit hole, found by Warren. She couldn’t let that happen. She doubled her resolve and increased her speed.

  She darted around the small structures on the ground, mindful that a trip could mean death. Winn was ahead of her, but she couldn’t see the exact path he was running, so she made her own, keeping the green X in the distance as her goal. Progress was hampered by rock outcroppings and sudden appearances of rubble. She came upon a slowly rising section of adobe bricks and a wall, about four feet tall, straight ahead. She leapt, using her hands on the wall to catapult herself up and over, landing with a thud on the other side and immediately resuming her race. For a brief second she lost track of the X, but then rounded another structure and saw it — now only feet away.

  They came upon the hole below the X at the same time
and each slid to a stop. They could hear the ghosts behind them, unsure of how much time they’d have before they’d catch up.

  “You first,” Winn said. “If I get stuck, at least it won’t stop you from getting out.”

  Deem had her backpack off and into the hole within seconds, and pushed and shimmied her way through the hole as rapidly as she could. She felt Winn’s backpack at her feet, following closely.

  Winn let out a scream of pain, and Deem moved faster. Going back up the hole was slightly uphill, and it was a little harder than coming down it. She imagined one of the zombighosts at Winn’s feet, slashing at them in the same way his friend Brent had been attacked so many years ago. She kept shoving her backpack and sliding, pulling herself along. She dug her knees into the rock to push herself forward, and pain shot through them as she felt her skin scrape inside her jeans.

  Finally her backpack fell away in front of her, and the entrance appeared. She slid from it as quickly as she could, then stood and turned. Winn’s backpack surfaced, and she grabbed it, tossing it aside. When she saw Winn’s hand, she grabbed onto it and pulled, tugging him from the hole. He spilled out of it and onto her, and the two of them fell back, scrambling on their hands and knees from under the rock ceiling to where the light from outside reached the edge of the granary.

  They watched as face after face appeared at the hole’s entrance, angry and searching, turned away immediately by the light. Dozens appeared, one after the other.

  She turned to Winn and looked at his legs, expecting the worst. He had a long gash on his calf, and his boots were tattered, but the rest of him was fine.

  “How deep is that cut?” Deem asked.

  Winn poked at it. “It’s bleeding, but I don’t think it’s deep. Look at this,” he said, showing her the sole of one of his boots. It had a slash in it so deep you could see his socks.

  “Goddamn, I hope this was worth it,” Deem replied, trying to catch her breath, waiting for her heart to calm down. She watched as the faces continued to appear at the hole, snarling and pulling back as they encountered the light. She reached for her backpack and removed a water bottle, opened it, and drank half. Then she handed it to Winn, who finished it off. They crawled together from the granary and back to the cliff’s edge, searching for the ropes they’d use to scale back down, retrieve their camping gear, and hike out as quickly as they could to Winn’s Jeep, parked miles away.

  Chapter Eleven

  Deem placed the box on Lizzy’s chest. She watched as it moved up and down slowly, Lizzy taking impossibly long between breaths. No wonder Ester was ready to take her to the hospital, she thought.

  She opened the lid to the box and moved back, bumping into Ester who had been right behind her. “Let’s leave her to inhale it for a while,” Deem said, and they left the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

  “Your timing is perfect,” Ester said as they returned to the living room. “Brethren from the ward just left. They gave her a blessing. I just know that it will work.”

  “I went to a lot of trouble to get the stuff that Lizzy is inhaling right now,” Deem replied, irritated. “If she recovers, it’s because of that stuff, not because of some priesthood blessing.”

  Ester gave her a disapproving look. “That’s a rather strong statement,” Ester said. “How can you say the priesthood didn’t play a role?”

  “No one ever blames the priesthood when it doesn’t work, do they?” Deem said. “That’s just bad luck or God’s will or fate or something like that, right? Never that the priesthood didn’t work. Why didn’t you try them earlier?”

  “I did,” Ester replied. “Days ago. This is her third blessing.”

  Deem lowered her head, knowing she was engaged in a losing conversation. “Let’s wait and see what happens,” she said, staring at the ground.

  “Will it work quickly?” Ester asked.

  “I don’t know,” Deem replied. “The woman who suggested this solution didn’t say how long it would take. We’ll just have to be patient.”

  “I’ve been waiting so long as it is,” Ester said. “I hope it’s soon.” She walked to the television and turned it on. An old man standing at a lectern appeared, speaking slowly with a low voice. She saw the Brigham Young University logo in the bottom corner of the screen, and Deem realized that Ester intended to pass the time by listening to BYU devotionals. She couldn’t think of anything she cared to listen to less.

  “Listen, I’m going to go,” Deem said. “There’s not much more I can do. I’ll come back for the vacuum box later, so just hold onto it for me. Let me know when she revives, alright?”

  “I will,” Ester said, escorting Deem to the door.

  ▪ ▪ ▪

  Deem received the call as she was approaching Hurricane. Ester was sobbing into the phone, describing how Lizzy sat up, walked into the living room, and sat down on the couch to watch the devotional with her, as though nothing had ever happened. She thanked Deem and asked her to pass her thanks on to Carma and to tell her she’d give her a call tomorrow. Deem hung up the phone, grateful that Ester hadn’t credited the priesthood with Lizzy’s recovery. At least, not to me, she thought.

  As she crested the hill that descended into Hurricane, she was surprised to see dark smoke on the horizon. Something in the distance was burning, something unusually large, and it was sending a huge column of thick black smoke into the air. She reached for the radio.

  “…old cannery south of St. George where a massive explosion occurred around twenty minutes ago. Residents in the Desert Hills area say the blast was so powerful, it broke out windows in their homes. City police and the fire department are at the scene, trying to bring the blaze under control…”

  Carma, Deem thought. Carma and Lyman. What did they do?

  She drove to Leeds and back to Carma’s estate, where she parked her truck, grabbed her half empty Big Gulp, and walked into the house. Carma and Winn were inside, sitting in the large room that overlooked the back yard.

  “How’s Lizzy?” Carma asked.

  “Fine, much better,” Deem said, sinking into her favorite chair and rattling the remaining ice in her drink. “I have to go back for the vacuum box sometime, that’s all.”

  “You didn’t stay until she recovered?” Carma asked.

  “Ester was playing BYU devotionals on the TV and going on and on about priesthood blessings. I couldn’t stand it.”

  “Oh, I understand completely,” Carma replied. “I’d have left, too.”

  “Ester called me to say Lizzy is up and walking around, so it worked,” Deem said. “And she said to thank you and that she’d be calling you soon.”

  “Thank you, my dear, you’ve both been so helpful the past few days while I’ve been so busy,” Carma said.

  “Busy,” Deem repeated.

  Carma turned to her. “Yes, busy.” Then she turned away.

  “How’s the leg?” Deem asked Winn, who had his bandaged calf propped up and resting on an ottoman.

  “Carma doesn’t think it needs stitches,” he replied. “I’ll keep it bandaged up for a few days. Stings, though.”

  “The ghosts these days, since the testing,” Carma said. “So diabolical, so much worse than before.”

  “On another note,” Deem said, sucking up some Diet Coke from her drink, “someone blew up the old cannery south of St. George.”

  “Oh, was that what that loud bang was I heard a while back?” Carma asked. Deem wasn’t sure, but she thought she detected a slight smile in Carma’s usually thin lips.

  “It’s burning out of control at the moment,” Deem said. “They’re trying to put out the fire.”

  “Well, it was an eyesore,” Carma replied. “Good riddance.”

  “How do you know someone blew it up?” Winn asked. “How do you know it wasn’t just a fire? That place is so old, one spark would have set it off.”

  “Do you agree, Carma?” Deem asked. “It was just a fire?”

  “Oh, most definitely,” she rep
lied. “A veritable tinderbox. Probably small children playing with matches. That’s what it usually is.” Deem watched her as Carma uncharacteristically turned her head away from them to stare out the windows.

  “The radio said the blast was so large, it blew out windows in people’s homes,” Deem said. She noticed Carma wringing her hands. “You know who blew it up, don’t you?” she asked Carma.

  Carma expelled a fake laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous! As I said, it was probably children. They’re terrible little arsonists.”

  “It wasn’t set on fire,” Deem said, “it was blown up. Was it you and Lyman?”

  Carma was clutching at her blouse, pulling the sides of its V-neck together. “Why, whatever gave you that idea?” she said, looking around the room desperately.

  “You’re a terrible liar, Carma!” Deem said. “You had something to do with it, I can tell! This is what you and Lyman were working on the past few days, isn’t it?”

  Carma rose to her feet. “I won’t be questioned!” she said with a dramatic emphasis, trying a different tactic. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, me and explosions. It’s completely absurd!”

  “It’s OK with me if you did,” Deem said. “I assume you and Lyman have a good reason. It’s just an old cannery. As long as no one got hurt.”

  Carma turned away from her again, looking out the windows.

  “No one got hurt, did they? Carma?” Deem asked.

  Carma didn’t reply. Deem looked at Winn, who was looking back at her questioningly. “Why would Carma blow up the cannery?” Winn asked Deem.

  “I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking,” Deem replied. “Carma? Why? It’s obvious you were involved, you can’t lie for shit.”

  “I don’t think anyone got hurt,” Carma said. “It wasn’t planned that way. I hope no one did.”

  “So you were involved?” Deem asked.

  “It’s Lyman’s plan,” Carma said, letting out a big sigh, as if she’d been holding her breath. “I’m just one of the people executing it. The cannery was used to store equipment for the council. This was retaliation for Claude’s murder.”