by Gene Curtis
“Uh... what? Mark? Are you back?” His voice sounded groggy.
“I’m back. Where are we?”
“We’re in the local hospital. Let me get the light.”
“Hospital? Why are we in the hospital?”
The light came on. Nick was standing by the door and he looked like he’d just woken up. He realized he was in a hospital gown and was hooked up to a couple of machines.
“You’d been in a trance for about fifteen minutes when Mrs. Rutherford began to leave. She saw us sitting next to the building and sent Dee over to offer us a ride. When you didn’t get up, she came over too. They couldn’t rouse you so they called an ambulance and here we are. Just for observation, the doctor couldn’t find anything wrong with you either. They tried to give you an IV. I knew you were fine so I told them not to without consulting your parents first. No one is answering the phone at your house so they’re worried.”
Mark looked at the wall clock and then at the window. It was dark outside. “Four thirty in the morning. It didn’t seem like I was gone that long.”
“Well, I was starting to get a bit worried, myself. What happened?”
“Spirit battle, a big one, all seven mountains from what I could tell. Mr. Diefenderfer said it would take them about a day or so to recover. I think we’re on our own until then.”
“Still want to go to New Orleans?”
Mark asked, “Plane, train or automobile?”
“I can drive, but we aren’t likely to get a car. I don’t particularly like trains, they’re slow and the jostling is annoying. I say we fly.”
“Plane it is. Where’s the closest airport?”
Nick took out his tablet.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Henry’s Wheel
Traffic was light and the old pickup rattled along at a good clip. LeOmi said, “Kinta is a rather unusual name.”
She took her eyes off the road to smile at LeOmi. “I’m Choctaw, it means laughing beaver. Kinta Pisa Nahoyo, laughing beaver vision giver.”
“How’d you end up at Henry’s ranch?”
“I was looking for work and Jacque remembered me. He taught me to ride when I was six.”
“So you’ve lived here your whole life?”
“I’m Choctaw, it’s our home here. When the government tried to force us out, Trail of Tears, a lot of our people went into hiding, mostly in the woods. Other tribes heard about us and some of their people came to join us: Cherokee, Natchez, Chitimacha, Seminole, Sequoyah and such. A lot still live here, but God led us to this land. This area is the Choctaw home.
“Our oral history says we came up out of the sea and our leader, a great warrior that no one can remember the name of because we don’t speak the names of the dead, led the people. Every night he would stick his great, red staff into the ground. In the morning, it would be leaning and he led The People in that direction. It always leaned east. Prophets told us that The Great One was leading us to our home; a land of abundant game and fruit, a land where tunchi... corn... would grow in abundance. When they crossed the great river, the Mississippi, the pole stayed absolutely straight up.”
About ten minutes after they had turned onto the dirt road they were pulling into the overgrown drive path of a single room log cabin, Henry’s mother’s home. Kinta said, “Thank the Great One for GPS.”
Ms. Ben Franklin stepped out on the front porch to greet them. She pointed up to a tree branch where a bright red cardinal was sitting. “Waiting for you, he is.”
Kinta said, “Wait long, he will.” She pointed to LeOmi with an open palm turned up. “LeOmi this is. For knowledge of your son, Horse Warrior, she has come.”
“Speak, she can?”
Kinta said to LeOmi, “Tell her why you’re here.”
“Ms. Ben Franklin, your son was my teacher and my friend. He left me a gift, a Wheel of Life and a prophecy. I’d like to know where he got the prophecy and what it means. Can you tell me anything about it?”
Ms. Ben Franklin stepped down and sat on the edge of the porch. She patted the porch beside her and LeOmi went there to sit.
“His third celebration of green tunchi he had not seen. In the yard with friends playing he was. Gone was he when I checked, I think, into the woods a rabbit chasing. Gone four days he was. For him men searched. The owl screeched he did not. Alive I knew my son remained. On the fifth morning asleep on the porch, I found him. Four days, not three, Kowi Anukasha held him. Four days!
“A dream he woke and told. The knife he did not want, nothing to cut was there. The herbs he did not want, bad they smelled. More herbs he did not want, hungry he was not. Unhappy the little man was, so a secret dream he gave.”
Ms. Ben Franklin got up and motioned for LeOmi to follow her. They rounded the corner of the little house and she pointed. All along the bottom logs, as high as a three year old could reach, wagon wheels were carved into the wood, all with twelve spokes.
“All that year this he did. All I know is this.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The Flight
The taxi dropped them at the local airport; at least the sign said it was an airport. It consisted of two long metal buildings and an asphalt path that might have been a runway for really small planes. There was no control tower and no planes out in the open. There was however a sign over the closest door on the end of nearest metal building that read, Mac’s Air Charter Services. The door was standing open.
There was no one in the shabby little office. Another open door led into the hangar. Mark called through the door, “Hello.” His voice echoed a little.
The reply did too. A woman’s raspy voice said, “Give me a minute, sugar. I’ll be right there.”
She came into the office about ten minutes later. She was wearing bib overalls, an orange shirt and her hands were dirty. She grabbed a rag and said, “What can I help you boys with?”
Mark said, “We need to get to New Orleans.”
“Your mamma know what you’re up to?”
“Yes ma’am, she does.”
“I suppose you got a note?”
“No ma’am.”
“You got a phone number where I can call her?”
Mark shook his head, “No ma’am.”
“Well, how am I supposed to know you’ve got permission? Sugar, I don’t want to be mean, but I don’t want to go to jail either.”
“Call the police department and talk with Detective Rivera. Tell him you’ve got Mark Young here trying to charter a flight to New Orleans. See what he tells you.”
She made the phone call. When she hung up, she walked over to them and said, “Normally I’d charge you two thousand for this trip. AV gas is near six dollars a gallon and it’ll take about two hundred gallons for the round trip. I know you’re only going one way, but the plane needs to come back. But seein’ how this is part of the police investigation into that Ninja attack yesterday and all. I wasn’t planning to go until next week, but I do need to go to New Orleans to pick up a shipment, coffee and spices for the restaurants around here if you was wondering, and I could use some company so I’ll give you a lift. And that way Detective Rivera will owe me a favor. If you’ve got a problem with that then just hand me two thousand dollars. By the way, my name is Ann.” She looked at Nick.
“I’m Nick.”
“Well Nick, Mark, are you ready to go?”
The plane was a burgundy ten seater, twin prop, with the middle four seats removed for cargo. Mark sat in the right seat beside Ann and Nick sat behind him. After the plane was fueled, Ann taxied it down the narrow strip of asphalt and turned at the end of the tree line onto a much larger strip of asphalt. Thirty seconds later, they were in the air. “Make yourself comfortable, flight time is going to be about two and a half hours.”
Nick asked, “Mind if I use my tablet?”
“We’ll be at twenty thousand feet. You got an antenna that good?”
“Sure do.”
“Knock yourself out, sugar. If yours don’t
work, you can use mine.” She pointed to a small box in the ceiling.
After about an hour Nick tapped Mark on the shoulder and held his tablet where he could see it. “Look at this. Every publically traded sulfur mine or processing plant has had controlling interest bought up by one single company, Petunia LTD.”
Mark knew Nick was a part time stock trader and he was good at it; that’s how he made money to fund his projects. He also knew that people often tried to corner the market on different things and didn’t understand why Nick had drawn his attention to this particular thing. “Isn’t that what traders try to do sometimes?”
“Companies usually don’t put enough shares on the open market to allow anyone to acquire controlling interest: enough for price manipulation yes, control of operations no. That means they had to have someone on the inside sell them shares. I’m not talking just the US either. Petunia controls all the publically traded sulfur mines and processing plants in the world. This is something big.”
Nick wasn’t given to wild flights of fancy and he was a critical thinker. If he believed it was worth mentioning then there must be something to it. “Keep digging and see what you find.”
Ann picked up the plane’s radio microphone and said, “En three four niner two papa entering Atlanta control, twenty thousand, VFR.”
“Niner two papa, squawk three four niner two, maintain heading and altitude. Origination and destination?”
“South Boston, Virginia, New Orleans, Louisiana.” She reached over and set a dial to 3492.
“Three four niner two, new heading, one niner zero, descend to ten thousand for approach on runway two eight south. VOR one one six point niner zero.”
“Roger Atlanta control. Why the detour?”
“TSA has flagged you for inspection.”
Ann followed the tower’s instructions, landing and taxiing back on the taxiway to the end where a helicopter was waiting. Several uniformed people were standing away from the rotor blades with their arms folded across their chests. The plane hadn’t yet fully stopped when two officers, one on either side, opened the doors and said, “Everybody out.”
When Ann stepped down she asked, “What’s this about?”
“Routine safety check,” said the officer with sergeant’s stripes.
“Ain’t nothing routine about ordering a private plane to land at Atlanta International Airport.”
The sergeant said, “All three of you, face away from each other, get down on your knees, place your hands on top of your head, interlace your fingers and turn your palms up.” He motioned for the others to commence.
A female officer patted Ann down while a male officer patted Mark and Nick down. Two officers searched inside the plane. Mark heard Ann ask, “You going to buy me dinner now?”
A half an hour later, after they’d finished searching the plane, Mark heard one officer say to the sergeant, “No swords.”
They were allowed to leave.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Ruby’s Orders
Ruby sat in her desk chair, closed her eyes and slipped into Spirit Sight. It wasn’t something she wanted to do; it was something she had to do. Benrah had to stay informed and she was, after all, one of many that were his eyes and ears. She visualized the painting, as seen through the window on the one hundred sixtieth floor, that depicted Jesus on the cross in exquisite agony. It was the only painting in the otherwise austere office. He said it was a Da Vinci that no one knew existed. When she opened her eyes, she was there. She dropped to one knee and bowed her head with her back to him. No one was allowed to look at him.
“My lord...”
Benrah’s deep voice was arresting and it always made her feel somewhat less than adequate, “You have failed me yet again.”
“My lord, I did as you instructed.”
“Yet Mark is on a quest to find Sergeant Dominick Polaris. You should have killed the woman too. Find the sergeant and kill him before Mark finds him.”
“Yes, my lord. If they get to the sergeant before I do, they can learn nothing that will help them find the sunstone.”
“Your judgment is lacking. You have also failed to bring me LeOmi.”
“My lord, I need more soldiers if I’m not to kill her. She has her own protectors.”
“I’ll spare you no more soldiers. Use what you have. Her helpers will be too exhausted to defend her for the next day. Make good use of that knowledge. We paid dearly to accomplish that.” His voice grew softer. “I’m growing impatient. Do it before I... replace you.”
“Yes, my lord, I will.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Donovan’s Ploy, Except Backwards
“Niner two papa, you’re clear to land on runway one eight left, crosswind at ten from the west.”
“Roger Lakefront, on approach.”
Nick put his tablet back into Aaron’s Grasp and tapped Mark on the shoulder. “The Petunia Corporation is a shell, owned by a shell which itself is owned by a shell and on up the line. I haven’t found the parent company yet. I tried to come at it from a different angle and stumbled upon small town newspapers being bought up—Daffodil Inc., also a shell, owned by a shell, etc. I think maybe I might have discovered part of Benrah’s plan, but it’s too early to tell for sure.”
The plane touched down and Ann taxied it to the end of the taxiway to a long metal building amid many long metal buildings. The sign beside the closest door read, Aztec Imports – NAFTA Gateway.
They exited the plane and Mark felt a sense of urgency, a sense of eminent peril. The last time he’d felt this way was in the labyrinth. He knew bodily harm was stalking them and he stood ready to draw his sword.
Nick asked, “What is it?”
Mark looked around, searching for hiding places, places where they might be ambushed, for any indication of danger. “We’re about to be attacked.”
The only places he saw that could conceal attackers were between the buildings, or possibly inside the buildings. Nick tapped him on the hand and when Mark turned he nodded toward the runway. The figures, about two dozen of them, were too far away to tell if they were men or thralls. They were spread out and jogging toward them. Mark took out his binoculars and looked. “They’re not thralls, I’d say about half a mile away.”
Ann was watching too. “Friends of yours?”
“You called them ninjas,” said Mark. “They’re trying to get us to betray the location of a friend. You’d better get inside.”
“The newspaper called them ninjas.” Ann didn’t go inside; instead, she opened the pilot’s door, reached behind the seat and after a couple of seconds pulled out a shotgun. The butt stock had a bandoleer with more rounds on both sides. She looked at the boys, “What? It’s not against the law, besides, I never leave home without it.”
“Ann, you might hit one of them, but that’s all. They’ll have your head before you can fire a second round. Believe me, they’re that fast.”
“You sound like you’ve fought them before.”
Nick said, “More than once. I think we made them mad.”
“Well, I’ll wait inside.”
Mark said, “Call the police, please.” He sat and closed his eyes. A moment later, he opened them and said, “There’s another group between the buildings. Looks like they’re trying to corner us.”
Nick said, “Donovan’s Ploy, except backwards. I’ll hide beside the plane. You run out in the open and they’ll chase you. Serpentine and they’ll start to bunch up and then I can take ‘em in bunches with just a couple of shots. Then you run past me and we’ll either switch off or make a stand. By that time the ones between the buildings will start joining in and we’ll have to improvise.”
“Better idea. They’re bunched up between the buildings now. We’ll go around and take them by surprise. Then we’ll wait on the others to show between the buildings. There won’t be enough room for them to gang up on us.”
“Let’s do it.”
They reached the back of the buildin
g and Nick peeked around. They were there, but at least one spotted him when he peeked. One of them shouted and they all started running toward him. Nick aimed and fired. Several went down. He waited for the indicator light to show green while the men moved ever closer. They were almost point blank when he fired again. There wasn’t enough time for a recharge before they’d be on top of them. “Run!”
Mark led the way back toward the front with the five remaining men chasing them. As they neared it he said, “Reverse Donovan’s Ploy. You lead them back around the building. I’ll draw off as many as I can and wait for you to come back.”
Three followed Nick and two zeroed in on Mark. Mark drew his sword and allowed the men to get closer. He heard a distant electric discharge. When the men behind him were close enough to almost grab him he dropped down sideways and they tripped over his body. He was up and on them before they stopped tumbling. He left their bodies and started running back the way they had come. When he rounded the corner, Nick was there. Mark said, “Now!”
Nick quickly aimed and fired. He turned and followed behind Mark who was about ten yards ahead. Mark held his hands like he was ready to catch a ball. Nick threw him the gun. Mark pointed toward the first area between the buildings while he continued on to the next. He rounded the corner, stopped, waited three seconds and then popped back around the corner and fired. A good half dozen attackers began falling. He turned and ran toward the front. Nick was crouched down by the front corner waiting.
Mark turned left, tossed Nick the gun out of sight of his pursuers and then reversed course knowing his attackers would see him and believe something had scared him back the other way. It worked; the attackers followed him and didn’t notice Nick. Nick dropped another bunch of them. About half of the few remaining turned to go after Nick, leaving four coming after him.
Just as he was rounding the back he heard Nick’s gun discharge again, then something he didn’t expect: one, two, three... four shotgun blasts.
