by David Wood
“Nah.” Jessie dismissed the suggestion with a small wave. “If you don’t turn out to be a creep I’ll let you buy me coffee or lunch or something.”
“Deal. Now, I need to research topics related to this.” He took out his phone, called up the article on the incident on Halcón Rock, and handed it over to her.
Jessie stared at the screen for five seconds before pushing her chair back and fixing him with a speculative look. “Are you messing with me?”
“No. It’s hard to explain. There are some people who believe this incident really happened.” He omitted the fact that he was one of those people. “They’re causing problems, and I want to understand why.”
“So you think there’s some kind of conspiracy?”
“Possibly. Local law enforcement is definitely keeping a close watch on the place. There must be a reason.” He thought about the door he’d discovered beneath Halcón Rock and wished he could go back and investigate it further, but he figured the sheriff would keep that spot under close watch for a while.
“Okaaay.” Jessie bit her lip and gazed down at the phone screen. “I doubt there will be any books on this subject, especially in the university library, but we’ll see if we can’t find something related to it.” She logged on to a nearby computer, searched the catalog, and sent Bones off to retrieve a few select volumes on mysteries and legends of New Mexico while she searched online databases.
It took Bones a while to find the books he was looking for and by the time he returned Jessie had printed out a thick stack of articles.
“You owe me twenty bucks for printing charges.”
“No sweat.” He took out his money clip, peeled off two tens, and handed them over. “So, what did you find?”
“Truthfully, not a lot about the incident at Halcón Rock. I printed out all the articles I came across, but they’re all superficial. Not as much as this one.” She held up a copy of the original article Bones had shown her. “You should probably call this Amanda Shores lady. She seems to know the most about it.”
“Yeah, I was hoping to avoid that. We dated for a while,” he added, seeing her confused expression.
“It didn’t end well?”
“It didn’t really end. We just kind of stopped calling each other.”
“That’s crap. Somebody always ends it or causes it to end.” Jessie folded her arms, emphasizing her cleavage, and Bones had to force himself not to stare. “Spill it. I’m not giving you any of this research until you tell me the story.”
“Why do you care?” Bones couldn’t help but chuckle.
“I’m interested. Now tell me.”
“We live in different parts of the country, and I travel a lot, so we just kind of stopped calling each other.”
Jessie narrowed her eyes. “You ghosted her, didn’t you?”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s when you disappear from someone’s life like you’re a ghost.” She propped her chin on one hand and her gaze bored into him. “Did you stop calling? Leave it up to her to call or text you?”
“I guess so.”
“Did you gradually take longer and longer to reply to her until one day you didn’t reply at all?”
Bones sighed. “If this is what lunch conversation is going to be like, I think I’ll just give you the cash and let you buy your own meal.”
Jessie laughed. “Coward. Big, strong guy and you’re afraid to call this girl after what you did to her.”
“I’m not afraid. I just like to keep things chill, you know?”
The young woman rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Do you want the rest of this? They’re articles on related topics: alien contact with Native Americans, people living under the earth, stuff like that.”
“Cool, thanks.”
They spent some time going over what she’d found. New Mexico lore was filled with stories of alien visitors, and a surprising amount of material on underground dwellers, but none of it brought him any closer to learning what lay behind the door beneath Halcón Rock.
When they’d covered all the material, he checked his watch and declared it time to eat. He glanced toward the exit. “You know what kind of security they’ve got for these books? I think I’ll snag a few of them.”
“You’re going to steal them?”
“I’ll mail them a donation when I get home.”
“No, you won’t.” Jessie shook her head, her long hair spilling over one shoulder. “For twenty-five dollars you can get a card that will let you check books out.” She paused. “On second thought, I’ll check them out for you. Then I’ll get to see you one more time when you return the books. Unless you’re going to treat me like you treated Amanda.” She made a tiny pout.
“I don’t think I could shake you if I wanted to. You seem tenacious for a girl your age.”
“I’m twenty-four. I’m hardly a girl.” She tossed her head and stood, her figure underscoring her point.
“My bad. So, how about we get out of here?”
“Text me your number first so I’ll have it. I still don’t completely trust you.” She winked.
When they’d exchanged contact information, Jessie checked out the books Bones had retrieved. They headed back to the truck, Jessie regaling him with the virtues of Giovanni’s Pizzeria, their lunch destination.
“It’s to die for. It’s been, like, in magazines and stuff. It’s been voted the best in the state and makes top one hundred lists for best in the country. The neighborhood’s kind of sketchy and there’s always panhandlers hanging around the parking lot, so I never go there by myself, but I think you can handle it.” She reached out and gave his bicep a squeeze. “Do you work out? Oh God, I did it again. I’m so awful at this.”
Bones looked down at her, his expression serious. “You want my advice? Stop trying. You’re smart, cute, and you seem like you’ve got attitude. You don’t need to do anything for a guy. Make him come to you.”
Jessie frowned. “Seriously?”
Bones nodded. “You haven’t had many boyfriends because the average guy can’t handle a girl who has it together. It’s like the predator who picks off the young and weak. You’re not an easy target, but that’s okay.”
“Are you calling me a wildebeest?”
Bones laughed and took her hand. “That’s what I’m talking about. Attitude.”
They arrived at the truck and Jessie froze. “Whose truck is this?”
“A dude named Manny. He lent it to me while he’s working on mine.”
“Consuela! I knew I recognized her.” Jessie ran a hand lovingly across the hood of the old pickup. “Manny’s my great uncle. So that means you broke down in Quemadura. Not much to do there.”
“Except piss off the sheriff.”
“Craig? If you’re on his bad side, that speaks well of you. Have you met his son?”
Bones nodded.
If Jessie had anything to say about Matthew, she didn’t get the chance. Two men, one blond, one red-haired, dressed in white button-up shirts, ties, and black pants, approached them. Bones first thought was the two were Mormon missionaries, but he dismissed the thought. They were too old to fit the profile, each in their early thirties. Furthermore, they carried themselves with a bearing recognizable only to those who had spent a significant amount of time in the military. Both appeared to be sizing up Bones as they approached. Something was weird here.
“Good afternoon,” the redhead began, “we’re special investigators with the New Mexico State Police Department. You conducted Internet searches that triggered security warnings. We need you to turn over any material you gathered, and the two of you will have to come with us.”
“No problem. Here you go.” Bones flung the stack of books at the two men, sprang forward, and drove his fist into the redhead’s jaw. The man’s legs turned to rubber and, as he fell, Bones delivered a spinning back fist to the temple of the blond man, who had stood temporarily frozen in surprise at the suddenness and fury of his attack. “Jessie, get
in the truck!” he shouted.
She dashed to the other side of the vehicle and tried the handle. “It’s locked!”
Bones fished the keys out of his pocket. From the direction of the library he saw a uniformed man trotting in their direction. Campus security was on its way, which meant the police wouldn’t be far behind. No time to search the fallen men. In fact, the redhead was already sitting up. “Crap.” He scooped up the library books, knowing they could be traced back to Jessie, and tossed them into the truck bed. He hastily unlocked the truck, jumped inside, and let Jessie in.
“Why did you attack those guys?” she demanded over the roar of the engine as he fired up Consuela and threw her into reverse.
“I don’t know who those guys are, but they aren’t law enforcement.” Tires squealed, and Consuela fishtailed as he floored the gas pedal.
“How can you be sure?” Jessie asked.
Bones glanced in the rear-view mirror. The two men had regained their feet. As he watched, the blond reached into his waistband and drew a handgun.
“The fact that they’re trying to kill us is a pretty good clue. Get down!”
Chapter 10
Bones hit the accelerator and yanked the pickup hard to the left as shots rang out. Jessie screamed and covered her head. Bones forced her down to the floorboard and then yanked the truck back to the right. The rear window shattered and Jessie screamed again.
“Un-be-freaking-lievable!” he shouted. He downshifted and took the truck up over the curb and onto the grassy expanse of a small public park. He took out a garbage can, sending its contents flying through the air. Pedestrians scattered, shouting curses, as the truck lurched and skidded past. Bones weaved in and of the few trees, wishing for more cover, but no more shots came.
When they crossed the park and bounced down onto a busy street to the blaring of horns, Jessie dared to peek her head back up.
“Did we get away?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Do you see anyone coming?”
Jessie looked behind them. “Lots of people are behind us, but no one seems to be... uh oh.”
“What?” A cold fist squeezed Bones’ gut as he turned to follow her line of sight. A sleek, black Jaguar was shooting across the park. “Just great,” he muttered.
“We’re never going to get away from them in this traffic,” Jessie said. “Get over to the right and you can get on the highway.”
“We don’t want the highway,” Bones said as he whipped over to the right to pass the slow-moving delivery truck in front of him.
“Why not?”
“Consuela will never outrun that Jag. Out on the highway, they’ll catch up with us in seconds. At least in town, the traffic will slow them down too.”
“Unless they drive down the wrong side of the road.”
“What?” A quick glance in the side-view mirror elicited a stream of profanity. The Jaguar was zipping along on the wrong side of the road, quickly closing the distance between them.
“What do we do?” Jessie cried.
Bones didn’t answer. He whipped Consuela back over into the right lane. To his left, the nose of the Jaguar appeared just ahead of the front bumper of the truck Bones had just passed. The passenger window appeared, and then a fist holding an automatic pistol. Bones stamped on the brake pedal as the passenger opened fire. Behind him, tires squealed and horns blared. He hit the gas and tried to keep the truck between him and the Jaguar.
On the opposite side of the road, cars were whipping to the side to get out of the way of the fast-moving vehicle. The Jaguar dropped back behind the truck, and the passenger fired again. The shots went wide, whumping into the side of the delivery truck. At this, the truck driver panicked and skidded to a halt.
A series of squeals and crashes filled the air as the vehicles behind the truck careened into one another. Bones hoped everyone was all right, but he couldn’t worry about that right now. He and Jessie had lost the scant protection the truck had provided and were now exposed.
“Here goes nothing.” He accelerated and veered to the left, bounding over the median and heading right for the Jaguar.
It shouldn’t have worked. The gunman in the passenger seat should have taken careful aim and ended Bones, but like most people, he lacked the complete focus required to use a weapon effectively in such a situation. Hitting a moving target was difficult enough, shooting accurately while moving was even tougher, but doing it while your target was trying to kill you was something altogether different. His shot went wide and then the driver panicked and hit the brakes.
Bones didn’t have time to celebrate as the Jaguar skidded and fishtailed. A major intersection loomed up ahead, and he was on the wrong side of the road. There was no time to correct his course. Instead, he pounded the gas and held down the horn.
“Everybody out of the freaking way!” he shouted, not that anyone could hear him. He zipped through the red light, barely missed being sideswiped by an ugly, yellow VW Beetle, and then shot directly into the path of an oncoming big rig. They missed one another by inches, the rig’s horn blaring its deep cry. Bones took a hard left below a street sign that read LOMAS.
“Do you know where Lomas takes us?” he called to Jessie, who had returned to the passenger seat but held her hands over her face.
“Which way? East or west?”
“I don’t know, let me think. The big mountain is behind us, so we’re going west.”
She shrugged. “No idea.”
“What if we went east?”
“No clue.”
Bones frowned. “Then why did you ask which way we were going?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been shot at before, jerk!” She uncovered her face, balled a fist, and punched him in the shoulder. “If you keep going you’ll hit the Rio Grande.”
“I doubt we can swim for it,” Bones said, managing a smile. In this part of the country, the Rio Grande was shallow enough to wade across.
“I don’t suppose there’s any chance they’ll give up?” Jessie turned to look out the shattered back window. “Never mind. They’re way back there, but they’re coming.”
“Holy crap,” Bones grumbled.
“They’re on the right side of the road this time. I guess that’s a good thing?”
“I was kind of hoping they’d have a head-on collision with a cement truck, but that was overly optimistic.”
“Should we get off the main road? We might lose them.”
“Or we might end up sitting ducks on a dead-end street.” He gritted his teeth and concentrated on working his way through traffic. He caught a glimpse of the Jaguar in his rear-view mirror. Like Jessie had said, it was coming after them. He knew he couldn’t outrun them. Something had to give.
Up ahead, a U-Haul truck was camped out in the left lane, feeding a steady stream of traffic into the right lane as vehicles moved to pass it. It was causing a major slowdown—not what he needed. Then again, it might afford an opportunity. He set his jaw and, riding inches from the bumper of the car in front of him, made his slow way past the moving truck, and then whipped over right in front of it. The driver of the U-Haul blew his horn, but Bones ignored him. He checked his mirrors and confirmed that the Jaguar was out of sight.
“Just give me a curve or something,” he muttered.
Seconds later, the road curved to the right, cutting them off from the view of all but the vehicles closest behind them. Bones seized the opportunity. He cut left across oncoming traffic and onto a two-lane road and floored it. The engine roared as Consuela chugged down the street. Not daring to hope he’d lost their pursuers, he made another left, glancing back as he turned.
“Damn!”
“They’re still after us?” Jessie asked.
Bones nodded. “Either they saw us turn, or they made a lucky guess. Either way, this isn’t over.”
They sped along the street, the old truck moving much too slowly for Bones’ liking. While he concentrated on the road, Jessie kept an eye out for the Jaguar.
All too soon, she delivered the bad news.
“They’re really close. You need to do something.”
“Not many choices,” he said through gritted teeth. “You got your seatbelt on?”
“Yeah, why?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he yanked the wheel and shot recklessly through oncoming traffic. He was now almost deaf to the sounds of squealing tires and blaring horns, but he was keenly aware of the van that skidded to a halt inches from the passenger door.
“Are you trying to kill me?” Jessie shrieked.
“The opposite.” He said as they shot past a statue of a horse and rider, and a sign that read Old Town Albuquerque. “Just trying to get some distance between us before they start...”
He cut off in mid-sentence when a bullet shattered the driver’s side mirror.
“Shooting,” he added. He kept the pedal to the floor, trying to coax more speed out of the aging pickup, but moments later he slammed on the brakes. “Oh, hell no.”
The street up ahead was clogged with pedestrians. He hit the horn, threw the truck into low gear, and surged forward. Surprised tourists gave way, sending dirty looks, obscene gestures, and curses in his direction.
“This is not where we want to be,” Jessie said.
Up ahead, the road wound around a small square. A mariachi band played in the gazebo at the center of the square, and tourists lounged all about, enjoying the music. A myriad of shops and restaurants lined the square, and vendors dotted the sidewalks, selling food or Native American trinkets. To their left, an old mission church dominated the square; tourists queued up in front waiting their turn to go inside. Many turned to gape at the old truck as it skidded recklessly around the square.
When they reached the opposite side of the square, Bones hung a sharp right, blowing through the stop sign, and coming face-to-face with a VW bus.
“Wrong way!” Jessie cried.
“I know that now!” Bones shouted as he brought the truck up onto the sidewalk, narrowly missing the vehicle. A man in a sombrero and serape dove out of their way, upending his taco cart as he fell. Bones managed to miss the cart, but brought the truck back into oncoming traffic.
