by James Hunt
“He’s alive,” Ken said. “But he won’t wake up.”
Kara placed her hands on her grandfather.
“Where’s Michael?” Chief asked. “Is he up there with you and your broth—”
He fell quiet when Kara turned to him, tears in her eyes, then glanced back to her grandfather. “Look at what they’ve done.” She wiped snot from her nose and drew in a breath. “And they’re just going to keep doing this.” She grit her teeth. “He’s going to keep doing this.” She brushed the old man’s hair off his forehead and then turned around to face Ken. “Clean him up. We need to move him.” She trudged back up the path, a renewed sense of determination filling her.
“Move him where?” Ken asked.
“We’re taking him to the mine,” Kara answered. “We’re ending this once and for all.”
78
Mulaney didn’t take his eyes off of the dead man on the floor, and even after a cleaning crew had come to dispose of the body and any evidence linking the death to this location, he couldn’t take his eyes off the spot on the floor where the dead man had been.
In all of Mulaney’s business dealings and over the course of his entire life, he had never considered himself squeamish, but no matter how long he stared at the spot on the floor, he couldn’t rid himself of the sight of the dead man that had lain there.
It wasn’t until one of the cleaning crew instructed that Mulaney had to move that he finally left the room and headed downstairs to the lobby, and then out into the street. He took deep breaths of the frigid night air and looked over to the mine’s entrance.
So much trouble for such a small patch of land.
Mulaney had heard of the curses that had been laid upon the mine, but he didn’t buy into such foolish notions. They weren’t real. And they weren’t going to come and steal him away in the dark of night. They were bedtime stories to frighten children and to sell tickets to this god-awful place that should have been bulldozed to the ground ages ago.
Mulaney walked toward the mine’s entrance but stopped before he crossed the threshold. The shaft that traveled deep into the earth offered even colder air and a musty scent.
He had been on his share of mining rigs, though he never had to lift a finger of course. His money did the dirty work for him. But he did like watching the work. There was a certain satisfaction in how the earth was transformed by the will and determination of man.
This massive planet, in all its power and glory, would always bend to the will of a man who had the resources to make it kneel.
Mulaney knew that if Napoleon, or Alexander the Great, or any of the other great conquerors of the past had been alive today, they would have done as he had, traded swords and rifles for capital and equity. They would have built their empires in business, growing their wealth and influence across the world.
That’s what this was for Mulaney. This mine was the start of his great expansion, one that would transform his wealth and status among people to an unprecedented rate. But such power didn’t come easy. Early conquerors understood that.
All Mulaney had to do now was keep the ship on its course. They were so close now. So fucking close.
“Sir?” Bishop asked. “The security tapes have been cleared.”
“Destroyed?” Mulaney asked, turning around.
Bishop nodded. “And we’ve turned off the security feeds.”
“What’s the status of your team that was sent to the reservation?”
“It’s radio silence until the mission is over, sir,” Bishop said. “They’ll contact us when it’s done.”
Mulaney checked the time. Bishop’s men had already been gone a considerable length of time. “How much longer until it’s done?”
Bishop glared at him uncomfortably. “This isn’t an exact science, sir.”
“I want a check-up in fifteen minutes.” Mulaney walked past him and toward the SUV. “I’ll be in the car. Tell me when you know something.”
Mulaney climbed into the backseat and shut the door, casting himself into the quiet that he had paid so much to possess.
He reached for his bag and then removed his laptop and started sifting through all the emails that his lawyers had begun to send him, outlining their approach on how to deal with the new developments of Terry’s letter to the EPA. Of course, they knew nothing of the murders, or of the fact that he’d taken Terry against his will, beat him within an inch of his life, and then forced him to produce a hand-written note stating that he falsified all claims.
Mulaney removed the note from his bag. It was folded into quarters, the paper crisp and white, the handwriting neat and legible. Mulaney had Terry write it before they started beating him too bad. Couldn’t have blood on the note. Though Mulaney wondered if that would have worked better to make sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that the note really did come from Terry. He set the note down and then rubbed his eyes.
And of course, there was still the problem of the children. And the Indians at the reservation.
Mulaney rubbed his temples. It was getting out of hand. Too many people were in the mix, which would make the coverup impossible. He glanced out the window, back to the mine. He didn’t want all his work to go to waste, but he wasn’t about to spend the rest of his life in jail if they couldn’t pull this off. He grabbed his phone and dialed a number.
“It’s Mulaney,” he said. “I want the jet ready for takeoff in thirty minutes. And transfer all the money from my personal account to my emergency account. Yes. All of it.” He hung up. He knew that he might be in a position like this one day, and he wanted to ensure that he was prepared. He just had to survive tonight.
The van that they rode in was cramped and dirty. The seat was worn and stained with god knows what, and even with the windows down and the cold desert air whipping through the windows, a sour, musty scent continued to radiate from inside.
Terry, Maisie, and Liz were in the last row of seats. Terry had Liz in his arms, holding her tight and preventing her from falling off the seat, while Maisie leaned against his side. It hurt his bruised ribs a little, but he sucked it up because he missed having his girls around him. He missed his family. And while they were all broken and tired and stretched beyond their means, Terry found a sense of purpose with his children around him, and that purpose provided a much-needed strength to finish this.
He gently stroked Liz’s hair, brushing it back behind her ear as she lay unconscious. He didn’t know what type of battle she was fighting, or how much longer she would be under, but Terry did know that she would win. The girl was too stubborn to quit. It was one of the reasons why she and Amy had butted heads so much.
The pair had fought even before the accident, but after that, it only amplified their apprehensions toward one another, especially for Liz. He knew that his oldest daughter was only scared, and angry, and confused about what happened.
But Liz still loved her mother.
“Daddy?” Maisie asked.
Terry turned toward his youngest, who stared up at him with eyes as big and round as the moon. “What is it?”
“Is Lizzy okay?”
Terry smiled and patted the top of Maisie’s head. “Yes, sweetheart. Of course she’s fine.” He pressed his finger to his lips and then touched Maisie’s cheek. “She’s just trying to help Mommy.”
Maisie straightened up. “How can I help?”
Terry hugged her closer. “You are helping. You being here gives us all hope.”
“It does?” Maisie scrunched her face up in a skeptical manner, but then her eyes lit up brightly, and she tapped her chest. “Kind of like how we all have the same heart!”
Terry chuckled, offering his own expression of confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Lizzy said that we’ll never be apart because we all have the same heart.” Maisie again tapped her chest where she believed the heart was, and then tapped Terry’s chest. “Me, you, Lizzy, and Mommy. We all have the same heart.” She flattened her little hand against Terry’s ches
t. “Yours beats just like mine!” She smiled, exposing that front tooth gap.
Terry’s eyes reddened. “Lizzy told you that?”
“Uh-huh,” Maisie answered. “So, if I believe I’m being brave, then that will help Lizzy, because we all have the same heart. Right?”
Terry nodded. “That’s right, sweetheart.” He squeezed Maisie tighter and then turned back to Liz. “Because we all have the same heart.”
Kara tried not to eavesdrop on the Holloways’ conversation behind her, but with nothing else to do, it was hard not to. She blamed the tears on the wind whipping her face and wiped them away before Ben eyed her through the rearview mirror.
Running Water’s head lay in her lap, his body strewn across the seats, as Kara kept a rag pressed to his head. She had cleaned off most of the blood, but he was still unconscious. She desperately wanted him to wake before they made it back to the mine.
While her grandfather may have had a plan of how to save Amy Holloway, Kara did not. She had never taken much stock in her grandfather’s work as a puhagante, and she hoped that she wouldn’t live to regret that.
Kara stared at her grandfather, remembering all the times that he had tried to teach her the ways of their people, and how each time she had begged him for something else to do. Anything else.
“We’re about ten minutes out,” Ben said, shouting above the wind and engine. “He awake?”
She locked eyes with him in the mirror and shook her head.
Kara balled up the rag she used to wipe away the blood in her hand and dropped it on the floorboard with the other accumulated trash. There was still so much in the air. The fact that Mulaney had told his goons to come and obliterate them on their own property revealed a desperation that Kara didn’t think he was capable of.
And if Mulaney was willing to risk that kind of exposure to eliminate this threat, then she knew that he was willing to go all the way.
“He’s never going to stop,” Kara said, her voice drowned out by the wind. She frowned, two defined lines forming between her eyes at the top of her nose. “No matter what we do. He’ll kill us all before he loses.” She nodded. “That’s the kind of man he is.”
But she wondered what kind of person it would take to beat a man like that. Kara had once believed that if she took a stand against the injustices of the world, and if she pleaded her case, presented the evidence, that people would listen.
That wasn’t the case.
Corruption and greed had spread through positions of public power like a systemic disease, infecting everyone involved. And now she understood that the only way to cure that infection was to rip it out and burn it, regardless if the host survived.
Mulaney was willing to kill Kara and her people, and the Holloways, to get what he wanted. He was willing to bury them under scandal and suspicion. Hell, Mulaney had already tried to frame Kara for murder, the warning shot meant to deter her from continuing to be a thorn on his side.
But Kara wouldn’t be silenced. She wouldn’t stop. For anything. If Mulaney wanted to take this fight all the way to the grave, then that’s where she’d go. But she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to take him with her.
“It doesn’t have to end the way you think.”
Kara gasped and glanced down. “Grandfather.” She placed her hand on his cheek and smiled as he placed his hand over hers. “How are you feeling?”
Running Water has his eyes cracked open. “How many did we lose—"
Kara pressed her fingers over his lips and shook her head. “We don’t need to talk about that now.” She would tell him about Michael later, when they had a moment to mourn. “Can you sit up?”
“I’d like to try,” Running Water answered.
Kara helped him upright and gave him a minute to become oriented. “Better?”
Running Water nodded, eyes still closed. When he opened them, he brought his hand to his head, but Kara pulled it back down.
“It finally stopped bleeding,” Kara said. “I don’t want it to start up again.”
Running Water looked around, glancing at the passing desert landscape, then looked to Ben. “How close are we?”
“Five minutes,” Ben answered, relief flooding his voice. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine,” Running Water answered. He turned around to the Holloways, seeing Liz still under. He faced forward again, grimacing. “I would have hoped she had finished by now.”
“What’s the plan, Grandfather?” Kara asked. “Why did you send her back into the spirit realm? Why did she need to visit the lake?”
Running Water tucked his lips into his mouth for a moment, and Kara wasn’t sure he was going to respond. But after another minute of silence, he finally nodded, concluding whatever argument was in his head. “The curse cannot be broken. No matter what. The powers used to create are too strong, too primal.”
“Then what the hell are we doing?” Terry asked, angry.
“I’m going to make a trade,” Running Water answered.
It took a moment for Kara to process what her grandfather was talking about, then she shook her head. “No. You can’t—”
“I’m the only one that can,” Running Water answered. “The Miner isn’t going to be tricked back into the mine. But he’ll show up to make a trade for me. It’ll be hard for him to pass on the last remaining Chemehuevi puhagante.”
“And what if he doesn’t come?” Terry asked.
Running Water turned. “He’ll come.” When he faced forward again, he turned to Kara, lowering his voice so only she could hear him. “How long have I been out?”
“Not long,” Kara answered.
Running Water exhaled relief. “Good.”
“Grandfather, do you think this will work?” Kara asked, keeping her voice low as he had done, though she couldn’t hide the skepticism.
Running Water sighed. “I’m not sure. But I’m prepared to give everything for it to work. This is a chapter of our people’s history that needs to be closed. Once and for all. And this is the only way I can think to do that.”
Kara understood the need to bury the past, but the thought of losing her grandfather, the man who had helped raise her and Ben after their parents died, was difficult to wrap her head around. She grabbed her grandfather’s hand and squeezed tight. “The accident wasn’t your fault.”
Running Water turned to her.
Kara’s eyes watered. “I don’t think I ever told you that aloud. Part of it was because I did want you to think it was your fault.” She twisted her lips, which quivered in anticipation of the tears. “But it wasn’t your fault. And I’m sorry for ever thinking that it was.”
“Oh, Kara.” Running Water held her head as she leaned against his shoulder. “I know you didn’t blame me. And I’m sorry that you ever believed I thought that.”
“I was just so angry,” Kara said. “After they died, it was like a part of me died.” She sniffled. “I just wanted them to come back. I just wanted us to be a family again.”
“We’re still a family,” Running Water said. “And we’ll always be family.”
Kara shut her eyes, the wind whipping her hair, and allowed herself to become the little girl that used to sit in her grandfather’s lap when she was scared. She would have to face the evil, just like the rest of them, but for now she allowed herself to be held. She let herself be vulnerable.
“GAHHH!” Liz popped her eyes open, thrusting her head forward as she jolted in her father’s arms, flailing and gasping for breath.
Both Running Water and Kara turned around, staring at Liz, who drew in deep breaths, her chest heaving up and down while Terry tried to calm her down.
“Hey, Liz, it’s okay, it’s okay!” Terry kept her still then smiled, tears welling in his eyes as he kissed her cheek. “I knew you could do it.”
Running Water clutched the back of his seat, leaning forward. “Did you get it?”
Liz looked at him, sweating but slowly regaining control of her breat
hing. She then looked down at her hands and lifted a coconut husk filled with water.
Kara smiled, and Running Water nodded.
“Good,” he said, facing forward again. “Ben, how much farther?”
“It’s just up the road. Less than two minutes.”
“I’m so proud of you,” Terry said.
“Thanks,” Liz replied. “Just don’t make me go back again.”
“Then I wouldn’t spill that,” Ben said, hollering from the driver’s seat.
“It’s almost done,” Running Water said.
Kara nodded and then wiped the tears from her eyes. While they may have had the water from the spirit lake, there was still the threat of Mulaney. She reached down and picked up the rifle, loading a fresh magazine.
And it was a threat that she’d deal with personally.
Mulaney drummed his fingers on the center console in the backseat, his head lolling lazily to the side. He checked the time on his phone, noting that his reception continued to go in and out. He was wondering if it was a simple communications error that was taking so long to hear back from the others.
A pair of headlights turned off the highway, heading toward Ghost Town, and Mulaney sat up a little straighter in his seat.
It couldn’t have been the team Bishop had sent. They had used three vehicles. Of course, it was possible that there had been casualties. After all, he hadn’t expected the Indians to come willingly, not after the trouble they’d caused.
But the closer the vehicle moved toward the roadside attraction, the more Mulaney realized that this wasn’t anyone from Bishop’s team.
Mulaney quickly exited the vehicle and sprinted back inside the hotel lobby, where he found Bishop and two members of his team huddled in a small circle.
“Call them,” Mulaney said, grabbing the attention of all three men. “Call them right now.”
Bishop nearly rolled his eyes but settled for an exasperated breath. “Sir, I can assure you that—”
