Dark Side of Noon (Wind Dancer Book 2)

by Tierney James

  Wind Dancer leaned back on his haunches and nodded at Agent Farrentino. “It is true. When he drinks with the man called Jack Daniels, I find him in that position. It is not…” He paused and focused on Jacque. “What is the word?”

  “Dignified.”

  “Yes. He is not dignified.”

  Jacque opened his mouth to speak and decided it might delay them longer.

  Wind Dancer continued. “I think we near the kiva. I can find my way faster if alone and cut them off so the Chaveyo has trouble getting her into the kiva. You two come from behind. When I confront him, you can grab Cleo.” He shook his head and stared at the ground.

  “What’s wrong?” Jacque asked. “We’ve got your back, buddy.”

  “I am not afraid for me.” He lifted his chin toward where the Chaveyo and Cleo walked away. “She friends now to the Chaveyo. Healers want to know more than they should. Cleo wants to know what her father could never find. Her trust will take her to a place we cannot see. If that happens, it will be forever.” He cocked his head toward Jacque. “And I will go after her, my friend.”

  “I’m not going to let that happen,” he said in a quiet voice.

  Farrentino weighed in. “We’ll take care of Cleo. They’re on the move. Get going before Jacque starts crying like a baby.” He grinned.

  Wind Dancer slipped away like a breeze lifting a fallen leaf. In seconds, he’d blended into the surroundings.

  “Want my hanky, Jacque?” Farrentino sniffed and pretended to dab at his eyes.

  “Want my foot up your ass?” Jacque growled. “I’m thinking I’ll grab Cleo and shove you to Chaveyo. How about that?”

  The agent smiled and followed Jacque up onto the trail.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Chief Perez continued to twist her hands and stretch the cord around her wrists. He hadn’t done a very good job at securing her bonds since she could now easily wiggle her hands out of it. Instead of dropping the cord on the floor, she studied it before shoving it in her pants pocket.

  There remained enough light in the shed for her to select a large pipe wrench mounted on a pegboard at the end of the workbench. When she lifted it off the hook, it slipped and hit the floor with a loud ping. Grabbing it up, she tripped over the clutter on her way to the door. If he returned, she’d use the wrench to club him in the head.

  The string for the overhead light remained out of her reach. Since the workbench was packed with junk, she opted not to climb up to try and reach the string. One false move and she’d tumble off, maybe injuring herself.

  She waited. Listened.

  When nothing happened, she tried to ease the door open, only to find it secured from the outside. Even when she put her shoulder to it and shoved, it didn’t budge. The clink suggested there was a chain and probably a padlock. The cloudy window at the far end of the shop was partly blocked by stacked furniture and boxes. A small amount of light had squeezed around the obstructions until the eclipse robbed her of that security blanket. After a few minutes, the light returned, aiding her as she picked her way through the mess.

  Most of the boxes were empty or filled with what she regarded as garage-sale rejects. Moving them took a few minutes. The furniture was a combination of old kitchen chairs, a few bicycles, a small chifforobe missing a leg, and an aluminum Christmas tree that had several branches bent in half. This took longer to move out of the way than she planned.

  A family of mice skittered out from the chifforobe when the door swung open. It startled her so she fell against a music box, shaking it enough to begin playing a song so slow, it reminded her of bizarre background noise for a carnival fun house.

  After she managed to calm herself and picked the pipe wrench up from one of the chairs, she wiggled in through the path she’d made to the window. A box of discarded towels would make it possible to wipe the grime from the glass. The hope had been to knock out the glass and squeeze through, but up close, it appeared it might be too small. Hopefully, her captor was gone, and she could determine where exactly he’d hidden her and how to escape once outside.

  With the glass pane partially cleared, Perez took a moment to peer outside. Before she could get her bearings, a man stepped in front of the window to stare eye to eye with her.

  Chapter 39

  The sudden appearance of a man in the window frightened Perez enough to jump back and fall over the boxes she’d moved. When the face pressed against the glass, she eased out of her precarious position on the floor and rolled behind the chifforobe. Enough grime remained on the outside of the panes to make it impossible to see who now came calling. One thing was clear,s it was not the man who kidnapped her.

  Did he have an accomplice?

  She heard the crunch of gravel moving along the wall that led to the door. The thought of trying to escape out the window before the new person came through the door encouraged her to give it a try. She scampered up and stumbled to stand in front of the window only to realize it had been nailed shut A few of the rusty nails were bent as if someone had tried to pry them out. A new white ribbon of heavy caulk sealed over several places. Had someone else tried to escape? Her other option was to use the pipe wrench to shatter the window. The crash would draw this new person to check things out.

  The door rattled several times. Perez’s heartbeat increased as she decided to confront this new menace. The sound of metal against metal slammed against the door. With a stealth approach, she heard a chain, being dragged off of whatever lock had been put in place. She readied herself as the creak of the lever-like door handle lifted, followed by the moan of rusty hinges of the door opening. The light momentarily blinded her, except for the silhouette of a man stepping inside, then stopping.

  With a burst of adrenaline, she rushed him, swinging the pipe wrench at his head. He managed to dodge the blow by jumping to the side but lost his balance and fell against the doorframe. When she raised the wrench over her head for a second chance, he held his hands up in surrender.

  “Wait,” he begged. “It’s me. I won’t hurt you.” She stopped with her weapon in midair and did a double take in unbelief at the man before her. When she stepped closer and prepared to swing the pipe wrench anyway, he tried to move, only to land lopsided on the floor. “We need to go.”

  She lowered the wrench and jammed her boot in his chest. He tried to straightened to a sitting position, but she applied more pressure on his chest.

  “Mansi? Why aren’t you at the police station?” she growled.

  “I escaped. No one came to check on me, so I walked out.” She withdrew her foot and stepped away just far enough for him to right himself.

  “Get up,” she ordered. “So, help me, if you try anything, I’ll knock your head off.”

  He raised his hands again and nodded. “I won’t. I came to help. Honest.”

  “How did you know where I was?” She dared take a peek outside the door then snarled at the man who was one of her prime suspects up until this happened.

  He rolled to his knees then grabbed the doorframe to pull himself up.

  “My son called me.”

  “Alo?” Another suspect.

  “Yes.” He stepped outside and motioned for her to follow. “Come on. I parked off the road. He didn’t see me when he left.”

  She motioned for him to take the lead but waved the pipe wrench to urge him to take her seriously. His gait reminded her of a penguin as he moved quickly down a dusty road. Looking over her shoulder, she saw only the building where she’d been held prisoner: a garage. The wooden garage doors had been secured with a long flat piece of wood. A vintage camping trailer resting on blocks, nearby, caught her attention. An awning flapped gently in the breeze. Considering it had the appearance of one of those restored campers that was all the rage, stirred up a lot more questions as to what it might be used for out here in the middle of nowhere.

  “Wait. I want to take a look inside the trailer.”

  “Are you crazy? He could come back any minute.”

  S
he reached out and grabbed his arm and forced him around. “How did Alo know I was here? Maybe Alo helped him.”

  “No,” he insisted as he turned to stare nervously down the road. “He didn’t.”

  “How did he reach you?”

  “I still had my phone.” She thought she’d taken it at the station but remembered she’d left it in the room with him, thinking they’d be right back. “He saw you out by the road. He found Dr. Sommers. He discovered she got off the right trail and was coming to get help when he dragged you into the trunk.”

  “Why didn’t he help me?”

  “It happened so fast. I asked the same thing,” he fumed. “Now, come on.” His gait turned into a quick jog, something she thought impossible for him, considering his weight. “And he saw him pull a gun. After he locked you in the trunk, Alo ran into the park. No way he would follow. He went back to help Dr. Sommers.”

  That may have been the most embarrassing part. Not only did he have a gun, he’d shot it in the ground around her. He’d made her pick up the casings so there wouldn’t be any trace of what he’d done. After handing them over, he smacked her upside the head with the gun.

  “Do you still have your phone?”

  He nodded.

  “Give it to me.” They had reached Mansi’s car, hidden off road and covered with piles of brush. He started dragging it off as she punched in the station’s number. “Where is this place, Mansi? I’m lost.” He gave her quick directions, which she repeated into the phone. “There’s several buildings. One is a trailer. Be sure to check it out. Got that?” she ordered into the phone. Slipping into the front seat, Mansi joined her and fired up the car. “Yeah. We’re on our way back to the scene.” With the seat belt buckled, Perez pointed down the road for Mansi to get moving. After reassuring the desk clerk she was okay, she clicked off.

  “I’m fine. Pull whoever you can and meet me there. I don’t know who else is still searching. Get that info to me ASAP. We’ve got those two guys from Chicago on the search, and an FBI agent. Try and reach them. They have a radio. I have a feeling they are in serious trouble.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  The forest opened up to a meadow, alerting Cleo the kiva was about three hundred yards away. The trail ended, and the ground became dotted with scattered basketball-size rocks, sparse vegetation, and stunted trees. Hills looming in the background gave the illusion of touching the sky. Any other time, she would have admired the scenery and taken pictures. Now it felt more like a nightmare she couldn’t climb out of.

  She had to convince the Chaveyo not to take her down into the kiva. How many others had found they were out of options? Why did a few survive, like the little boy? Then there were others who were found dead with no sign of what had killed them.

  Maybe fear killed them.

  Maybe their heart just stopped.

  Maybe they escaped and were never found because animals removed any evidence of their existence.

  Or maybe it was a random killing or kidnapping. So much of that these days. A person at the wrong place at the wrong time. People did all kinds of stupid things because of the belief nothing would happen to them. Yet the fact remained, these kinds of incidents had gotten the attention of the FBI.

  Besides trying to lead Chaveyo away from the three men in her life, she hoped to lead Farrentino here to help with his investigation of other cases with the same characteristics. Were there openings that allowed beings to enter this world?

  Wind Dancer had found his way to her by entering from a parallel universe. He had showed her there were holes to these places everywhere. Some were no bigger than a cell phone and others, like the one Wind Dancer walked through, were big enough to drive a truck. They opened and closed at will. There was no rhyme or reason to when this would happen.

  If the kiva was a permanent opening into another world, Agent Farrentino needed to know.

  There was no way of knowing if anyone could explore that sapapu. She was sure no sane Pueblo people would try it, but studying the Chaveyo would be much more interesting. However, she also knew, this would be impossible and could only lead to a horrible death or imprisonment in a place like Area 51. If Chaveyo had spiritual powers, then heaven help anyone who tried to stop him.

  Chaveyo stopped two more times and surveyed the surrounding area, adding a growl for an unnerving effect. Deep inside, she knew Wind Dancer grew closer. He would never leave her to be a victim and would fight to the death to save her if the ogre turned on her or tried to pull her into the sapapu.

  In minutes she spotted it, the kiva. Time to stall. But how?

  She flopped down on the ground and wiped her brow. “Kuuyi.” Water. He stopped and stared at her with those huge rolling eyes. Did she mispronounce the word? “Naki, kuuyi.” Friend, water. This time she pantomimed drinking. Did he understand humans needed this? Hadn’t several of the missing people later found been dehydrated?

  She repeated the action, and this time he nodded and strode off their course.

  “Cleopatra.” Wind Dancer emerged from behind a wall of rocks and pulled her to her feet. The touch of his hands collapsed her into his waiting arms. He kissed her deeply so that her knees nearly buckled with relief at the wave of protection that engulfed her. “We must go before he returns.”

  “Jacque?”

  “Not far. I can hear them.”

  A booming growl of discontent alerted them, and they spun around to face the Chaveyo a few feet away.

  Chapter 40

  The Chaveyo removed his saber strap from around his neck then pulled his ax from the sheath at his waist. Wind Dancer jerked Cleo behind him at the same time Jacque and Farrentino appeared from the curve in the nearly invisible trail. She backed toward them as did Wind Dancer. Before she knew it, Jacque had put himself in front of her and Farrentino next to her. Both men had their weapons drawn.

  Wind Dancer spread out his arms to block the other three from stepping closer. He began speaking in his own Pawnee tongue. Cleo wondered if such a creature could understand all Native tongues since the ogre stopped swinging his saber. He took a fighting position as he rolled his head from side to side.

  Without warning, the Chaveyo let out a scream and charged Wind Dancer who had just enough time to grab a fallen branch and lift it. The ogre split right through the branch with his ax then twirled it, only to let it go toward Jacque who managed to dodge the attack. Farrentino tackled Cleo, landing on top of her.

  Chaveyo threw down his saber then picked up Wind Dancer and tossed him against a tree at the side of the trail. The Pawnee grunted in pain and tried to stand. The ogre now moved toward the other two men, making ungodly noises that would have frightened a poltergeist.

  He first loomed over Jacque who didn’t get a shot off before the ogre kicked the gun out of his hand. Reaching down, he lifted the detective and tossed him at Wind Dancer, knocking them both to the ground. Farrentino rolled off Cleo and lifted his gun. He did get a shot off, but it went askew when the monster landed a kick in the agent’s side.

  The ogre bent over Cleo, grabbed the front of her shirt, and lifted her in slow motion until they were eye to eye. He brought her up to his chest then slipped his other arm under her legs to carry her body easily. Before he moved toward the kiva, he landed another kick to Farrentino’s gut, eliciting a pained moan.

  Wind Dancer and Jacque threw rocks at his legs and his head, but he shoved past them. Cleo felt paralyzed with fear and, once she got her wits about her, squirmed enough to make him stop.

  “Put me down,” she demanded. “Down.” She spoke forcefully and glared at him. They stood at the opening of the kiva, and he slowly lowered her to the ground and backed away. “Askwali,” she thanked him.

  The ogre turned toward the three men charging forward.

  Chaveyo now had no weapons, only his brute strength. Farrentino could barely walk but circled around so that the beast studied him ominously. Jacque limped to the opposite side, drawing his attention to yet another direction while Win
d Dancer approached from the front, proud and tall.

  The Pawnee attracted the most focus from the ogre who clicked his sharp teeth and hunched his back, taking on the bristled appearance of a wild animal ready to attack.

  Wind Dancer used the words of his own people in a threatening tone. Then he chanted, softly at first then with each word, he spoke louder until the Chaveyo threw up his hands and covered his ears. Finally, he became so enraged that he charged Wind Dancer and tried knocked him down. Wind Dancer stood his ground in an effort to slow him but was knocked down. Without much obvious effort, the Pawnee jumped to his feet and landed a gut punch to the ogre, only to be tossed against a rock that caused him to gasp for air.

  Jacque reached for his gun on the ground where he fell. Farrentino had also lost his weapon and tried to stop Cleo as she ran for the detective’s. She picked it up and raced to stand in front of Wind Dancer just as Chaveyo reached for him.

  “No. My naki.” Friend. She patted her chest and leaned against Wind Dancer as he straightened, still trying to suck air into his lungs. She could only imagine what kind of angry expression he might be leveling. “Naki,” she insisted.

  The Chaveyo once more grabbed her by the collar and dragged her toward the kiva. Jacque and Farrentino tried to stop him but got knocked to the ground with little effort. Wind Dancer ran up and took the arm that held Cleo and bent it so he had to release her, followed by a terrifying scream. His monstrous hand went around the Pawnee’s throat and lifted him off the ground. Jacque and Farrentino tried to intercede, but Chaveyo shoved both men with such force, they spun facedown in the dirt. He continued to squeeze Wind Dancer’s throat.