Kissing Chaos

by Jill Knowles

  Chapter Nine

  Bertha liked Maggie.

  He knew it as soon as Maggie sat down. It was evident in the way she snuggled into the soft leather seat, and in the extra purr in the engine after Maggie stroked the dashboard.

  Bertha had welcomed Maggie.

  Dax turned onto the highway and sped up. He felt as though someone had sucker-punched him. In the fifteen years he’d been driving the Jeep, it had never taken to someone so quickly or completely.

  Bertha liked Maggie, and that terrified him. He didn’t have relationships with humans; he had quick, enjoyable flings. A relationship meant disclosure and rejection. It meant horror and disgust where there had been tenderness.

  “Here we are,” he said, parking in the same place he’d used the day before. Facing his passenger, he added, “I’m going to walk the area near the boulder, to make sure there’s nothing dangerous. Then, I’ll back Bertha into place.”

  “Do you need help getting backed up?”

  He narrowed his eyes in thought. “Not yet. I may need you when I have to get the cable hooked up, though.”

  “Cool.” She opened the door and hopped out, giving Bertha a pat as she closed the door. “I’ll stand over by the gi-normous rock.”

  He joined her, then worked his way back to the Jeep, his eyes open for anything that might damage the vehicle or otherwise cause problems. The ground was hard, with little topsoil, due to the lack of vegetation. He didn’t see any sticks or sharp rocks that might puncture a tire, and there was no gravel to cause slippage. Certain that he knew the terrain, he backed the Jeep into place, put it in park, and turned it off. Dax stood, stepping up onto the seat, then over into the back seat and onto the trunk. It put him up just high enough to see the opening he’d uncovered the day before. A frisson of excitement shivered through him as he stared into the blackness. The village was here.

  Bertha shuddered as Maggie climbed up beside him. “Wow,” she said, reaching out to rest her hand on the boulder. She immediately jerked it away, then carefully placed her palm back on the warm granite. “I’ve got electric crawlies going up and down my spine, and my stomach is threatening rebellion.” She gave him a shaky smile. “It was never this bad when I was a kid. Every instinct I possess is telling me to run.”

  That was one of the best descriptions he’d ever heard of the lingering effects of a Fury attack. “Yeah,” he said, resting his hand next to hers. “It is powerful.” He slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. His need to protect and comfort her was confusing, but he liked it. It’s good to feel needed.

  She wound her arm around his waist, then grinned impishly at him as she slid it down so she was cupping his ass cheek.

  * * * * *

  Maggie watched from the passenger seat as Dax worked the cable around the top of the huge boulder. His hair was plastered to his head with dust and sweat, his t-shirt was soaked, and yet he looked absolutely edible. She found herself wishing he’d take off his shirt so she could watch his muscles ripple. It wouldn’t be practical, though. The long-sleeved shirt protected him from being scratched up by the rock. Earlier, when they’d dug the loose soil from around the rock, he’d rolled his sleeves up, baring his powerful forearms and making her mouth water.

  “Hey, Mags, can you help me with this?” She tugged on the leather gloves he’d given her and climbed up on the back of the Jeep beside him. It was a tight fit, but she didn’t mind, and judging from the heated look he gave her, Dax didn’t mind either. He flashed her a smile as he bumped her with his hip.

  “Here.” He handed her one end of the cable, and then jumped down to the ground, holding the other end. She climbed down, and stood on the other side of the rock. “Now, we need to get it down about a quarter to a third of the way.”

  “Not half?”

  He shook his head. “No. I’m going to try to topple the boulder, pull it over, rather than try to move it.”

  “Ah.”

  They pulled and sawed the cable back and forth until it was roughly where Dax wanted it. Maggie’s hands ached by the time they had it in place and hooked up to a longer section of cable that was wound into the winch.

  Dax used a diamond-bladed saw to cut two notches in the side of the boulder, just enough to help keep the cable from slipping off. Maggie turned her back and covered her ears until he was done.

  “Okay,” he said, stepping back to check his handiwork. “Now, you go stand over there.” He pointed to a clear area off to the side. “And take your cell phone.”

  Maggie didn’t like this. “Dax?”

  “Just in case I get squished or the cable breaks and backlashes.” He pointed to the connector holding the two pieces of cable together. “That’s the most vulnerable point. If it goes, I could end up seriously hurt. You need to be able to call for help.”

  “I don’t like this.” Adrenaline was coursing through her, making her nauseated as it filled her with nervous energy.

  He strode over to her and gave her a quick, hard kiss. “This should work.” His eyes were fever-bright with excitement. “It will work.” He went back to the rock.

  His exhilaration was contagious. Maggie walked to a space about thirty feet away. Her brain was telling her that this was a really bad idea, but her gut was screaming, “Go for it.”

  She watched as Dax placed both hands on the boulder and leaned until his cheek rested against it. Chills skittered up and down her spine as she watched him. Something big was going to happen, she could feel it.

  Power poured from his palms into the solid granite. He pressed wave after wave of potential into the hard stone, filling it with chaos energy. Finally, light headed, he pushed away from the stone. When he was sure he could walk without falling, he walked to the front of the Jeep and climbed inside.

  The boulder needed to expel the energy he’d discharged into it, and he needed to give it a path to travel. He started Bertha and inched forward, letting the cable play out until he was about twenty feet away from the boulder, far enough that the Jeep wouldn’t be damaged when the rock toppled. Once he was in position, he placed a couple of good-sized rocks he’d found earlier behind the back tires, hoping they would keep the Jeep from being pulled backward. He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “Okay, sweetheart, do your best for me.” He started the winch. There was a grinding sound, and he could feel the chaos energy fizzing and popping inside the boulder, desperate for escape.

  He kept his eyes focused on the winch, watching for any sign of smoke or strain in the mechanism, but the rest of his senses were focused on the boulder. The scent of brimstone teasing his nose told him that the rock was moving, creating the distinctive smell of stones grinding together. The low, raspy groan of rock moving against rock was the base counterpoint beneath the high-pitched thrum of a cable strained to capacity. Finally, with a burst of energy that rocked him back on his heels, the boulder toppled forward.

  The crash as it hit the earth was oddly muffled, not nearly as loud as he’d been expecting.

  “Whooo hooo!” Maggie yelled.

  He turned the cable winch off and slumped against Bertha’s side. “Good job, Lady B. Good job.”

  “You did it!” Maggie hugged him, gave him a loud smacking kiss on the cheek, then knelt down and kissed the Jeep’s side. “Bertha, you’re amazing!” She kissed him again.

  Dax wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the scent of sweat and apples. “We did it.” He captured Maggie’s lips in a rough, bruising kiss, picking her up and swinging her around. “We did it!”

  Maggie took Dax’s hand and let him help her up onto the fallen boulder. A primal part of her wanted to dance and shout out their triumph over the vanquished stone foe. An even more basic part of her was screaming, “Run. Run away. Danger.” She ignored both desires and clambered down into the four-foot wide passage behind Dax. It was much cooler in here than it had been outside, and far creepier than anything she remembered. Dax snapped on his flashlight, and motioned for her to do t
he same.

  As she followed him through the four-foot passageway toward what she hoped was a cave, she started to tremble. Run. Danger. Run! Her palms began to sweat, making the cool metal of her flashlight slippery against her skin. Her focus narrowed until she was only aware of the circle of light on the ground, her clammy skin, and the need to continue forward.

  “Powers,” Dax whispered.

  Maggie looked up at him, his shocked expression barely visible in the meager illumination from their flashlights. She realized that the narrow stone corridor had opened into a long, narrow cave. They had stopped just inside the larger chamber. Shining her light into the darkness, she couldn’t find the rear of the cave, but the roof was about fifteen feet above them. The cave was not terribly wide, maybe thirty feet at the widest, and the floor was covered with debris -- mostly bundles of sticks, some large, some small. All were wrapped in a brownish, leathery material. A familiar shape drew her attention, and she shined the light on it. A basket. A flat-bottomed basket about the size of her Dutch oven. Other things became recognizable -- another basket, rounded this time, a spear with an obsidian point. And ... her flashlight stuttered to a stop on a rounded shape that gleamed yellow-brown in the beam.

  It was a skull, mummified skin stretched tight over the bone. She stared at the rictus grin for a moment, then jerked the light away from it and onto one of the stick bundles. Which she now recognized as a human ribcage, dried skin broken in places to show the bone beneath. No. Oh, no. She couldn’t be seeing this. But she was. Now that her eyes had the trick of it, she saw bones everywhere she looked, and nowhere did she see a whole body.

  * * * * *

  What did the villagers do to deserve this? Dax had always thought of himself as worldly and inured to violent scenes. He was half Fury, after all. But this ... This was horrific. Tumbles of bones lay everywhere, still bound together by the desiccated skin that had offered no protection from the claws and teeth of his ancestors. The most disconcerting thing for him was the discrepancy in the size of the bones. Men, women, and children had died here. His people didn’t harm children. Not anymore; not for more than a thousand years. For a child to be killed in the past, it had to have taken a betrayal of enormous magnitude. What vengeful god had set the Furies against this place? Did the deity in question even still exist?

  “Why?” Maggie’s voice was thick with tears. “Why would someone do this? What could do this? All these people.” The light from her flashlight centered on a tiny bundle. “Babies. How could anyone kill babies?”

  Sickened by the indiscriminate slaughter, Dax fumbled for words. “We should ...” He groped for her hand, glad when she linked her fingers through his. “This is old.” Much older than he’d believed. The heavy sense of great age had seeped into the very foundation of the cave. “Really old. We should go and get someone. An archaeologist.” His vague hopes for the amount of energy he could unleash with this discovery tripled at the sheer magnitude of the carnage -- and the completeness of its preservation. “This is big.” Dax wasn’t sure if it was an act of sacrilege or respect to bring this to the attention of the American public, but it was necessary.

  He could see her nod, the tear-tracks on her cheeks gleaming in the reflection of the flashlight’s beam.

  Clutching each other, they turned and walked through the corridor and back out into the light. Dax surprised himself by echoing Maggie’s sigh of relief when they were once again outside in the bright sunlight. The brilliance of the summer sun couldn’t chase away all the darkness, but its warmth took away some of the chill that had seeped into him inside the cave.

  Maggie wrenched her hand from his and staggered forward, falling to her knees and retching.

  It felt as thought everything she’d ever eaten was trying to escape her stomach. The only thing preventing her from screaming was Dax’s comforting presence beside her. So much brutal death. It didn’t matter that she knew the bones were ancient. The horror that filled her was all-consuming.

  Finally, when she was sure she was through, she sat back on her heels.

  “Here.” Dax pressed a cup of water into her trembling hands. He steadied it while she drank. The water was tepid and vaguely metallic, and the most wonderful thing she’d ever tasted.

  “Thanks.” She finished the last of the water and let him take the cup.

  “Can you stand?”

  She wasn’t sure, but wanted to get away from the acrid stench of vomit. “Let’s find out.” Taking his hand, she pulled herself to her feet. For a moment, she was afraid the nausea was back, but it receded quickly. He pulled her against his side in a one-armed hug.

  “I’m sorry.” He rested his cheek against hers. “I knew there was something here, but I didn’t know it would be like this.” Dax was vibrating with tension. “I had no idea it would be this ugly,” he murmured, lost in thought.

  “No.” She pulled away just far enough so she could see his face. “As horrible as it is, I’m glad I’m here.” The enormity of what they’d found was starting to sink in. Mixed in with the human remains were other organics -- baskets, wooden spear shafts, clothing. “It’s so old.” She shook her head. “I’ve read every book in the library, and there’s no hint a massacre of this size ever happened. I’ve lived here my whole life, and there aren’t any local legends or ghost stories about a cave filled with bodies.” She cast her mind back to the speculation about the creepy place. “People know about this place; it’s something of a local hotspot, but the speculation on why it’s creepy is mostly centered around it being the site of a single death, or a place of power for the Klamath tribe. Nothing like this.” And there should be, unless the site predated the local tribes. Small communities like Keily held most of their histories in oral tradition. There should be ghost stories at the very least.

  “How well do you know Joni Taylor, the Forest Service archaeologist?”

  The question threw her for a moment, and she said the first thing that popped into her mind. “I went to the senior prom with her son, Kevin. Joni barbecued steaks for us. Why?”

  “Is she trustworthy?”

  Now she understood what he was asking. “Oh, yeah. She hates people who loot archaeological sites, and has seen to it that anyone who’s caught stealing artifacts is prosecuted.” Ten years ago, Joni had gone to the Oregonian newspaper with stories of looted sites and a forest supervisor who looked the other way. Within the next few months, there’d been numerous arrests and the Keily National Forest had a new supervisor. There was no indication that time had mellowed the older woman.

  Joni’s son, Kevin, had followed in his mother’s footsteps, and had a doctorate in archaeology. Maggie knew that Kevin was passionate about prehistory. Their relationship had ended amiably during their freshman year in college, as both were far more interested in their respective studies than in maintaining an affair.

  “Good.” He rubbed his thumb across her jaw in a soft caress. “We need to keep this quiet until it can be protected.”

  “Agreed.” She shrugged, too drained to feel bitter. “If it comes to that, both Sean and I are currently out of work. I’d be willing to camp up here and help you keep an eye on things, and I’m sure he would, too.” As angry as she was at the library closure, anyone who pissed her off had better beware.

  “You’re a treasure, you know that?” Dax brushed a kiss over her lips. “I need to go back inside and get some photos.” He pulled a digital camera from the front pocket of his jeans. “Do you want to come with me or wait out here?”

  The thought of going back inside that nightmare place made her belly knot. “I’ll wait out here.”

  “I don’t blame you.” He shivered. “I thought I was tough, but I wasn’t prepared for that.” He put his arm around her and led her to the Jeep. After she was seated in the passenger side, he pulled out a water bottle and poured her another cup. “Drink this. It’s always good to hydrate after a shock. There’s also lemonade sports drink in the back, if you’d rather.” He kissed her
temple. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Patting the dashboard, he added, “Bertha will take good care of you.”

  “I’ll be fine.” She took a sip of water and watched him walk back to the toppled boulder, tight glutes working underneath his faded jeans. A tight ass is good for what ails ya. The thought flickered through her mind, making her giggle. She was pleased to note that there was no edge of hysteria in her laughter.

  Leaning her head back against the seat, she stared up into the endless blue sky. This could be the answer to our prayers. If the cave had the archaeological significance she thought it did, it would lure people to Keily in droves. Scientists, journalists, tourists, and all the lovely money they’d spend. Suddenly energized, she had to move. She climbed out of the Jeep, pacing back and forth in front of it.

  “Let’s see, first we talk to Joni.” She was only vaguely aware that she was speaking aloud. “We come up with a plan to protect the site.” It was on federal land, so they wouldn’t have to deal with a private landowner. Thank heavens for small mercies. “Joni will have ideas of who else to contact. Or Kevin will; he’s still teaching at Oregon State University, I think.”

  The loud crack of a branch breaking made her look up. Fear froze her muscles. A brown bear stood about twenty feet away from her, swaying slightly. The bear’s fur was matted and oily. It’s sick. It started toward her, its movements stiff-legged and jerky. A scene from her favorite novel popped into her mind. The bear reminded her of the rabid dog in To Kill A Mockingbird. A loud honk startled her and drew the bear’s confused attention. She edged backward, toward the cave entrance. Shelter and Dax. Safety.

  The bear started moving, breaking into a shambling run. Knowing it was a slim chance, she turned and sprinted toward the cave, hoping the boulder would be too difficult for it to climb in its impaired state.

  A hard blow to her right ankle knocked her from her feet, and she rolled over, looking up at the monster standing above her. The bear reared on its hind feet, roaring, viscous white foam dripping from the gaping mouth.