Blood Oath, Blood River (The Downwinders Book 1)

by Michael Richan

  They emerged into a back room that had a comfortable sitting area with more pillows than Deem could count. It had large glass windows that looked over the back yard.

  “I’d like some,” Winn said. “Thanks.”

  “Awan?” Carma asked.

  “Not for me, thanks.”

  “How about you, dear?” Carma asked Deem. “You look like you could use something right about now.”

  Deem looked out over the beautiful back yard, lit by small lights placed here and there, and a larger light that lit part of the large hill rising at the end of the lawn. It was beautiful. The day had been brutal, and for the first time in a long time, she felt peace wash over her. She felt a release coming, and lowered her head to her chest, fighting the urge to cry. I will not let Winn and Awan see me cry, she thought.

  She felt Carma place her hand on her back. “I have a Diet Coke with your name on it, my dear. Does that sound good?”

  Deem shook her head yes.

  “Good,” Carma said, walking away. “I’ll be right back with drinks, you all make yourselves comfortable.”

  “Nice place,” Winn said to Awan. “That yard is amazing.”

  “You OK, Deem?” Awan asked.

  “I’m fine,” Deem said, looking for a place to sit down, and finding a large overstuffed chair she flopped into. It was soft and enveloping, and she instantly felt the tension that had built up in her body seep out and into the chair. “It’s been a long day.”

  “That it has,” Winn said, joining her by sitting on a nearby couch. Awan joined him.

  “Here we are,” Carma said, entering the room with a tray. “Now, take what you want and leave what you don’t. I’ve brought some of these little Asian crackers you might want to try. I’ve fallen in love with them. Not everyone likes them, because of the seaweed. If you don’t like them, just ignore them.”

  “Thank you,” Winn said, standing up and pouring himself a glass of iced tea from a pitcher. He took the can of Diet Coke from the tray and handed it to Deem, who popped it open and took a long swig.

  “The boxes!” Deem said, pulling the can away from her lips. “They’re in the car!”

  “We have some boxes of documents,” Awan said to Carma. “We were hoping we could keep them here for a while. They’re…”

  “Dangerous?” Carma said, cocking one eyebrow.

  “Yes,” Winn said.

  “Delightful!” Carma said. “How are they dangerous?”

  “It’s a long story,” Deem said.

  “Short version,” Carma said, “so you can bring them inside.”

  “I think they have information about a secret council of gifted Mormons,” Deem said. “Higher-ups in the church.”

  “How high up?” Carma asked, a smile spreading across her face as her eyes widened.

  “Stake presidents and up,” Deem said.

  “Delicious!” Carma said.

  “We think they killed a friend of mine to get them.”

  “Killed?” Carma asked. “Who?”

  “Claude Peterson.”

  “Claude is dead?” Carma said in horror, pressing her palm flat against her chest.

  “Yes,” Deem said. “Eviscerated, in his home.”

  “And his files are in your car?” Carma asked.

  “Yes. Awan said we might be able to store them here, to keep them safe.”

  “Awan,” Carma said, “take this handsome man with you and the two of you go bring those boxes inside immediately.”

  Winn put down his iced tea and stood up as Awan made his way out of the room and back down the hallway. Carma turned and followed them, and Deem followed her. When Awan returned with the first box, Carma directed him to a side room, where he began stacking them. Deem started to walk out of the house to help them, but Carma stopped her. “Let the boys do it, dear,” Carma said. “You’ve had enough excitement for one day. You relax.” Carma took a long drag off her cigarette and blew the smoke into the outside air.

  Once they’d all been moved inside, Carma led them back to the sitting room where Winn picked up his iced tea and returned to the couch with Awan. Deem sat back down in the large overstuffed chair. Carma seemed content to remain standing behind them.

  “Really, Awan, leaving them outside like that,” Carma chided.

  “I thought the whole property was protected,” Awan said. “Isn’t it?”

  “The house is stronger,” Carma said. “Not as strong as the basement and the cave, but much better than the driveway, for heaven’s sake.”

  “It sounds to me like you knew Claude,” Winn said. “From the radio? Or personally?”

  “Claude and I go way back,” Carma said. “Before St. George got so built up, all the non-Mormons around these parts knew each other. We had to, to survive.” She took a long drag off her cigarette and exhaled, deftly aiming the smoke behind her. “I can’t believe he’s dead. Then again, I can. He waded in turbulent waters, that man. Wasn’t protected. I tried to get him more protection, but he thought alarm systems and surveillance and a good dog was enough. It was bound to catch up to him. He’d angered the higher-ups around here for years. Poor man. You said eviscerated?”

  “Belly cut open,” Awan said, “intestines pulled out.”

  “Damn Mormons,” Carma said. “They really make me angry sometimes with their ridiculous penalties. I can’t tell you how many people have died in this state with either their throats cut or their guts ripped out due to that crazy temple stuff. Are any of you hungry? Would you like something more to eat? I noticed none of you tried the crackers.”

  “We ate just before we went to Claude’s place,” Awan said. “Maybe two hours ago. I’m not hungry, but thanks.”

  “Me either,” Deem said. “Just tired.”

  “Awan mentioned someone named Lyman,” Winn said. “He said we’d need to make a deal with him.”

  “That’ll be an easy deal,” Carma said. “If those boxes have dirt on a secret Mormon council, he’ll say yes without hesitation.”

  “He lives here?” Deem asked.

  “Almost,” Carma said. “He lives in a cave in that hill back there,” she said, pointing through the windows to the hill that rose up at the end of the lawn.

  “Awan said the boxes would be safe here,” Deem said. “I need to read through what’s inside. I gotta be sure they’ll be OK if I leave them with you. And I’m worried that they’ll make you a target of the council. That’s why I couldn’t take them home, I didn’t want to put my mother and aunt at risk. It seems unfair to do the same to you.”

  “Don’t you worry about that,” Carma said, smiling at her. “They’ll be safe here, I promise you. And we’re under no threat from your council.”

  “Awan said you are gifted,” Deem said. “You’ve protected the house?”

  “Not me,” Carma said, pulling another hit from her cigarette and exhaling. “Him!” She pointed out the window toward the hill.

  “Is it strong enough to keep the council away?” Deem asked.

  “They know better than to come here,” Carma said. “The boxes will be safe.”

  “I’m sorry to keep asking,” Deem said, “but I have to be sure. So many things have gone wrong recently. What keeps them away?”

  “Lyman has slaughtered every high ranking Mormon who has set foot on this property for more than a hundred years,” Carma said. “They stopped coming years ago. He’s too dangerous to them.”

  “The sign out front?” Deem asked. “Warning people away?”

  “It keeps the right people away,” Carma said. “Rank and file don’t need to worry, as long as their intentions are good. But I guarantee you, a Bishop or Stake President knows why that sign is there, and they respect it.”

  “Lyman hates church authorities?” Deem asked. “Why?”

  “Tell you what,” Carma said, taking the empty can of Diet Coke from Deem and placing it back on the tray. “I’ll let you ask him that yourself, when you meet him tonight. He’ll be out around four-
thirty, and we’ll go down. Why don’t you all just sleep here for a while, and I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

  “Alright,” Deem said. “Winn? What do you say?”

  “I’ve got nowhere to be,” he said. “Awan?”

  “I’d rather sleep here than drive back home tonight,” Awan said. “It’s a long haul.”

  “Alright, it’s settled,” Carma said. “There’s plenty of rooms upstairs. Go pick the one you like. I’ll set the alarm for four-thirty and wake you up then.”

  “Why four-thirty?” Deem asked, rising from her chair.

  “It’s all moon-driven,” Carma said. “He’s always around, but he only materializes and talks when the moon is at its zenith. It’s a little inconvenient, but I’m use to reading the almanac. A lot easier when it’s during the day, but Lyman makes the rules around here.”

  Awan led the group upstairs, Carma following to check on each of them. Deem found a nice room with a large queen bed, and sat on its edge as Carma stood in the doorway, asking her repeatedly if she needed anything.

  “Thank you again,” Deem said. “It’s really great of you to help us like this.”

  “Oh, I’d do anything for Awan. He’s my favorite nephew. There, I’ve said it. Probably isn’t fair to my other nephews and nieces, but it’s true. He was always so empathetic as a child. I don’t think he has a mean bone in his body. And he’s turned into such a wise young man. Sometimes I think there’s a very old soul in him. So he could ask me for a million dollars and I’d find a way to give it to him.” She took a drag off her cigarette and blew the smoke into the hallway behind her.

  “He’s been very helpful to Winn and me,” Deem said. “We owe him.”

  “I have so many questions for you,” Carma said, turning and grabbing the bedroom door handle. “But I’ll ask them all in the morning, after you talk with Lyman. At least, the ones I remember to ask. Get some sleep, I’ll come wake you when it’s time.”

  “Thank you,” Deem said. The door clicked closed, and Deem fell to her side, out before her cheek hit the pillow.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Most of the lights in the house were off as Carma led them to the basement door.

  “The neighbors aren’t right next door,” Carma said, “but I don’t like people thinking I’m up in the middle of the night, like a nut case, so I leave the lights off when I’m up like this. So I guess what I’m saying is, watch your step!”

  She led them downstairs, where she turned on the overhead lights. It was fully furnished. In one corner were ping pong, pool, and foosball tables, and at the opposite end was a large projection TV, surrounded by oversized chairs and bean bags. Between the two was a built-in bar. A “Pabst Blue Ribbon” neon sign hung behind it, currently off. Deem thought it was as comfortable and inviting as any play room she’d seen.

  Carma walked past the pool table to a door, which she unlocked and opened. Inside was a closet, lined with boxes. At the other end of the closet was another door, also locked. Once Carma opened it, they walked into another part of the basement that was unfinished. Carma turned on an overhead light, and Deem saw the hole, angling down into the ground. It was about ten feet wide, and there were wooden steps and a handrail.

  Carma walked to the steps and started down. Deem followed her, taking care with each step, but Carma practically ran down the steps as though she’d gone up and down them a thousand times, and was familiar with their placement. The distance between Deem and Carma was increasing. Winn and Awan were behind her, going as cautiously as she was.

  “Come along!” called Carma. “I don’t want to miss him!”

  Deem picked up her pace. Soon she reached a level surface and was able to speed up and reach Carma. Deem looked up and saw light bulbs hanging from a wire that had been run overhead and tacked into the rock. It was unusual to her to be walking through a cave without having to hold a flashlight or use a head lamp.

  After fifty feet the passageway opened into a room about twenty feet wide. The ground was bare and nothing was in the cave except a small table, a chair, and an occasional rock. She noticed an opening in the far end of the room.

  “This is it,” Carma said. “Underwhelming after all that lead up, isn’t it.” She noticed Deem observing the opening. “It continues into the hill for quite a ways, it’s very deep. Lyman keeps an eye on it, so I don’t go back in there, but I suspect it’s never been mapped out. There’s a few deep holes back in there that I wouldn’t want to fall into. LYMAN!”

  She pulled a candle and a lighter out of the pocket on her dress and placed the candle into a candlestick that sat on the table. Then she lit it with the lighter. “LYMAN!” she yelled again.

  Carma dropped the lighter back into her pocket, and removed a pack of Capris. She removed a long, thin cigarette from the pack and lit it from the candle on the table.

  “LYMAN!” she bellowed. “We need to talk to you! Now, come on.”

  Deem could feel Lyman enter the room from the entrance in the back. She dropped into the River and saw him walking toward the table. She was surprised to see that he was young – she guessed sixteen. He was handsome, with brown hair and sideburns. His shirt showed sweat stains from manual labor, and it clung to his torso, revealing the muscles of someone who worked hard. His pants looked homemade, and were too short for him, ending several inches above the ankles on his bare feet.

  Carma, he said, walking toward them. Deem saw his feet move, but he moved faster than his feet, and he didn’t step around the boulders on the floor, he passed through them.

  Lyman, you remember my nephew Awan, Carma said, extending her arm to point at Awan behind her.

  How could I not? Lyman said. You talk about him incessantly. He turned to look at Awan and nodded. Awan, he said.

  Lyman, Awan nodded back.

  These are friends of Awan’s, Carma said. Winn and Deem. Gifted.

  Pleasure to meet you, Lyman said, turning to each of them. He lingered on Deem.

  Deem, he said, studying her. That’s a pretty name. I’ve never heard it before. Is it short for anything?

  I had a great aunt who was named Adeema, Deem said. I was named after her, but they shortened it.

  Good thing they did, Carma said, or your name would sound like an ailment!

  What can I do for you, Deem? Lyman asked.

  Deem looked at him. Somehow he knew that it was her who had the need. He had classic features, strong, handsome, youthful. But he seemed sad, tired.

  In my attempt to locate my father’s journals, Deem said, I’ve run afoul of a secret council. My father passed away a few years ago, but I’ve discovered that he was on that council when he was alive. I believe they have his journals, but they won’t give them to me because they might contain things about the council.

  She stopped, and, out of habit, took a breath though she didn’t really need one in the River. Lyman seemed to be hanging on her words.

  Last night, we came across several boxes of documents that might help me find them. But I also think they might contain secrets about the council that they don’t want divulged. They killed a friend of mine last night to get them, and it was dumb luck that we happened to acquire them.

  You think it was dumb luck that you had the idea in that restaurant to go visit Claude? Lyman asked.

  Deem pulled back, startled. Did Lyman know about that, or was he just reading her mind? Proceed with caution, she thought to herself.

  At the time, Deem slowly said to Lyman, I thought it was luck, yes. Are you telling me it wasn’t?

  It wasn’t, Lyman said. Please, continue.

  Deem was a little thrown off her game. She began to wonder if Lyman already knew the whole story. If so, asking her to continue seemed condescending.

  If you already know why I’m here, Deem said, what’s the point of me telling you?

  Because I love the sound of your voice, Lyman said.

  Deem began to heat up, irritated. There’s no sound in the River, she said. You�
�re toying with me.

  Drop out, Lyman said.

  Deem left the River, feeling its waters recede. There was Lyman, standing behind the table as though he was flesh and blood.

  “That’s impressive,” Deem said. “Winn, are you out of the River? Do you see him?”

  “I do,” Winn said. “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a ghost who can manifest that strongly outside of the River.”

  “For the longest time, I couldn’t,” Lyman said. “About fifty years ago, things changed. I got stronger and stronger.”

  “The radiation?” Winn asked.

  “Probably,” Lyman said.

  “You’re lucky it didn’t turn you into a zombighost,” Deem said. “That’s what it did to most of the ghosts around here.”

  “Maybe there’s something in the rocks here,” Lyman said, looking up. “Or maybe it was my sense of purpose. It just made me more powerful. You do have a lovely voice, you know. Sweet and cheerful. Reminds me of Sarah.”

  “Sarah?” Deem asked.

  “Love of my life,” Lyman said. “The girl I intended to marry.”

  “What happened?” Deem asked.

  Lyman turned away from her. “The boxes are in the side room upstairs, correct? I’ll make sure they stay safe. No one will bother them. You can come and inspect them any time you like. On one condition.”

  “Name it,” Deem said.

  “That you come visit me down here, once in a while,” he said.

  “Alright,” Deem said hesitantly. “I can do that.”

  Lyman picked up on Deem’s hesitation. He turned back to her. Again, she was startled by how young he looked. “I only want to hear you talk, that’s all,” he said. “You sound so much like her.”

  “Just come down here and talk to you?” Deem asked. “Sure, no problem.”

  He smiled weakly. “Thank you,” he said. “And I hope you find your father’s journals.”

  Deem smiled back. “I know there’s something in them that I need to read.”

  Carma jumped in. “Good, it’s settled. Lyman, before you blip out on me, I need to talk to you about the Jeppsens next door. Their dog keeps breaking into the pecan orchard.”