by Lisa Medley
They watched as their new guests picked their way down the mesa in a slow line. There were about a dozen of them in sight. The hairs on the back of Cole’s neck raised. It was what they couldn’t see that worried him. Could their alien hitchhiker still be alive? Lying in wait inside the rocks? After its encounter with the sun the day before, he was thankful they’d made it through the night unmolested and hopeful the beast wouldn’t be interested in repeating its experience with the daylight. They had about twelve hours to figure this all out, or it would be another long night in the desert together.
The current concern, the Indians, continued toward them. His palm grew damp around the butt of his revolver as he eased into it his holster. He prayed he wouldn’t need to use it.
Several long minutes later, the group stopped at least a half mile away and one lone adult approached on horseback. The young, mid-twenties Apache’s face was smooth but apprehension creased his brow. His long, unbound black hair picked up in the wind, blowing around his head and face. He raised his left hand but kept a firm hold on the rifle lying across his lap with his right.
The man spoke in a language they didn’t understand. Presumably Apache.
“Great, this is going to be fun,” Cole said under his breath.
“English?” Noah asked, his hands raised in a supplicating gesture. “I don’t suppose either of you speak Apache?” He smiled, making eye contact with the man and endeavoring to maintain a not-threatening demeanor.
“Hardly,” Tessa offered.
The Apache man continued, unintelligibly to them but growing more animated.
“Listen, buddy. We’re looking for the SpaceXport crew. We’ve had a little mishap out here, as you can see. I don’t suppose you have a phone or anything?” Noah asked. “I see you’re on some sort of quest or cultural ritual, but we could really use your help.”
Growing increasingly inpatient from his tone, the Apache man pointed to his group in a demanding way.
“Buen Dios, is he being an asshole or does he really not speak English?” Tessa said.
The Apache grew still and his face reddened. He spat out a long litany of words but the only thing Tessa made out was el Español .
“He speaks Spanish? Necesitamos ayuda. ¿Tienes un teléfono?”
“What did you ask him?” Cole said.
“He said something about Spaniards. I told him we needed help and asked if they had a phone.”
The Apache spit on the ground in front of them then pulled back on his horse’s mane and raced back to his band.
“What’s that all about? You think he’s jacking with us, or does he really not know English? Is that even possible?” Noah asked.
They watched as the young Indian waved his arms around, using the rifle for emphasis, apparently relaying their unsuccessful meet and greet. A few seconds later, one of the band motioned toward the back of the group and waved someone forward. A young boy rode forward and accompanied the failed welcome wagon representative and two more Apaches on horseback back toward them while the others held back.
“Round two?” Noah asked.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Cole said.
“Just don’t shoot anyone,” Tessa offered.
“I promise not to shoot anything that doesn’t need shooting,” Cole said.
The boy rode ahead, prodded by one of the elder Apaches. The boy turned back, then came to a halt before them and spoke in Spanish. “¿Nuestro jefe le pregunta si vienes en la guerra o la paz?”
Surprised, Tessa answered immediately. “Paz.”
“You understood him? What did he ask? Is he speaking Spanish?” Noah asked.
“Yes, Spanish. It’s a strange dialect, but I got the gist of it. He said their leader wants to know if we are here in peace or war.”
“Well, that’s a little odd isn’t it? What are they? Cosplaying? Vision-questing? Ask them if they have a phone we can borrow so we can call for some help. They can’t be out here without a backup,” Cole said.
“I thought you knew Spanish. Why don’t you ask them yourself?” Tessa said, exasperated.
“Precious, I only know the curse words,” Cole said, then smiled.
“Of course you do.” Tessa shook her head and returned her gaze to the boy, and continued to speak to him in Spanish.
The boy looked back at the elder Apache who seemed to be in charge. The elder and the boy spoke for a moment, and then the boy spoke again to their little trio in Spanish. Tessa replied.
“The boy is translating your Spanish to Apache and back?” Noah asked.
“It seems so,” Tessa replied.
“What did you say now?” Cole asked.
“I’m not going to play-by-play every word here. Trust me, okay? Geez, I asked for a phone so we could call the base. I told him our ship crashed and we needed help. Our people are nearby, but we need to call them.” Tessa said.
Finally, the boy turned and replied in Spanish. “What is a phone? We are the only peoples out here. This is our land. Unless you plan to try to take it, which would break Galvez’s treaty and end with war.”
Tessa blanched. “No. What treaty? Galvez?”
“Are they talking about the Apache-Mexico Wars?” Cole asked, incredulous.
“Oh, now you understand?” Tessa said.
“I just got Galvez, as in Bernardo de Galvez, Viceroy of Mexico City, circa late 1700s? I did pay attention to the war parts of New Mexico history classes in school. Ask him where they live.”
Tessa pressed her lips into a grim line at being told what to do, but relented. “Where do you live?” she asked in Spanish.
The boy looked back to the elder for reassurance again and continued in Spanish. “Behind the mesa. Our camp is there.” The elder spoke to the boy in Apache, and the boy nodded. “Chief says, you are to come back with us. Now.”
Tessa turned to Cole and Noah. “They want us to come back to their camp with them. It’s on the other side of the mesa.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” Cole said.
“I’m under the impression it’s not optional,” Noah said, nodding toward their original greeter who now pointed the rifle at them.
“Should we tell them about the alien?”
“I think we may have bigger problems than the alien right now,” Cole said.
***
Tessa, Noah and Cole went willingly with the group of Apache. Mercifully, Cole kept his weapon concealed. For the first time since she’d run into him at the SpaceXport, she was glad he carried the gun. As if it was even possible, things had gone from bad to worse. They had no idea what this group had in mind for them. She still wasn’t sure the Indians couldn’t speak English. Maybe it was all an elaborate reenactment of some sort. Civil War buffs loved doing that sort of thing, even two hundred plus years later. Her mind insisted on organizing the events unfolding around her into some sort of logical explanation, yet the pieces wouldn’t fit. With a key piece to this puzzle still missing, she had no idea what it would to take to unlock it.
Her mind reeled as they worked their way up to the top of the mesa, walking in single file between two horses. She was especially glad Cole was in front of her, a fine buffer from the ass end of the horse. Just as he should be. They topped the mesa, and Tessa bumped into him as he came to an abrupt stop. She followed his line of vision as he stared back at their ruined ship, the alien craft, and the asteroid debris field. While it was an impressive crash site, the real mystery lay beyond it, where the SpaceXport should have been. Tessa turned a 360, and a hysterical little laugh escaped her.
“It’s all gone. Everything. No roads. No buildings. Where is it?” she asked.
Noah stood on the edge, where they’d sat the evening before their flight, and pointed below. “I think you’re asking the wrong questions, Tess. Not where,” he turned to her and caught her eye. “When.”
Below, in the desert valley, snugged up against the backside of the mesa, nearly fifty teepee-style structures dotted
the desert floor. At least three times that many inhabitants milled about.
Cole stepped to the edge. “’Houston, we have a problem.’”
Chapter Eleven
Twenty minutes later Cole, Noah, and Tessa walked into the Apache camp. Curious tribe members began to gather around them, and Tessa’s comfort level plummeted. Someone pulled the band from her hair from behind, and she whipped around, ready to fight. Cole intervened before she could even respond.
“Whoa there, let’s not be so grabby,” he said, turning in a slow circle, as the two groups assessed one another.
Her heart raced in her chest as she felt the Apaches evaluate her. It didn’t escape her notice they shared her coloring. Even though she wasn’t Indian, she stood out less here than her two crewmates. Although she didn’t yet know if that was an advantage or a disadvantage. The ends of her hair picked up in the wind and flew across her face.
“I don’t like this, Cole,” Noah said.
“Agreed. No sudden moves. Let’s not give them a reason to move first here.”
The chief waved his hand high in the air and spoke, gesticulating to the crew until the admirers began to back away and disperse.
“That’s right, nothing to see here,” Tessa said.
Except there was everything to see here. Once the group backed away, Tessa could see the entire village. Up close, she realized the teepees were made of sticks and brush, not animal hides like she’d expected. The men and women were dressed in animal hides with elaborately beaded borders in narrow bands of colored seed beads along their ponchos, skirts, and shirts. Even their moccasins were decorated.
“This is all really elaborate for a reenactment,” Tessa said.
“I don’t think it’s a reenactment,” Cole said, never taking his eyes off of the Apache chief.
“What do you mean?” Tessa asked.
“He means that weird space tunnel was some sort of portal. We’re definitely back in New Mexico, but from the looks of it…” Noah glanced from Cole to Tessa. “We’re back in early 1800s.”
“No.” Tessa looked around at the village and its members again, through the lens of this new possibility. “No.” she said again, quietly.
But she knew he was right. No way was this an elaborate reenactment. Her eyes couldn’t deny what was right in front of her nor what was missing. Even out here, in the desert, there should be roads, electric lines, jet trails in the sky. They’d stepped back in time, long before their current mission was ever even a dream.
Even if their ship were to be made functional again, she couldn’t imagine how they could ever undo what had happened to them. Her stomach clenched, and blood rushed to her head, her heart beating stronger and faster with the realization. They were stuck here. Stuck in New Mexico more than two hundred fifty years before she had been born, with one of the fiercest Indian tribes in the history of the nation, a broken spaceship, and an alien hiding in the bluff.
This place was as foreign to them as the asteroid had been.
Chapter Twelve
The Apache chief spoke to the boy and then pointed to one of the structures nearby. The boy nodded and addressed Tessa in Spanish. “Chief Itza-Chu says the men will stay there, in the wickiup. You will come with me.”
“What now?” Cole asked
“They want you and Noah to stay in that wickiup and for me to go with them somewhere else.”
“No. Tell them you are my wife. Tell them, we stay together.” Cole said, putting a possessive arm around her shoulders and pulling her in close.
Tessa tried to twist away, but he held firm. “I’ll do no such thing!”
Cole leaned in close and nuzzled her ear. “Do you see all those fine young men standing on the edge over there? My guess is that those are the single braves. You could pass for Apache just fine. Not that they’d likely care either way. Don’t you think staying with me would be better than the alternative? Lesser of two evils, if you need to think of it that way. Tell them. I’m not letting them take you away. So it’s up to you whether you want to watch me die in a fight over you right here and now, or if you want to spend some quality tent time with me.”
Tessa swallowed down her pride. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, he was probably right. Although, she wasn’t all that sure their relationship, fake or not, would hold any credence. It was worth a try.
“This is my husband, Cole. We will stay together,” she said with more confidence than she felt.
The boy translated and Itza-Chu smiled for the first time then nodded, speaking quickly once again to the boy. “Itza-Chu says he has many questions for you. He says you should rest until evening meal. Then he will meet with you again. He asks if you have things to trade for his hospitality. If you have medicines. His daughter is very ill, and our medicine man has not yet cured her.”
Tessa translated for Cole and Noah.
“I’m sure we can come up with something.” Cole nodded in agreement. “Tell him we have medicine in our ship. That will at least get us back down there later. Noah, how do you feel about playing doctor?” Cole asked.
“I can take a look.”
Cole and Tessa were escorted to their assigned wickiup while Noah was led away to see Itza-Chu’s daughter. Cole pushed open a hide, covering the doorway, and they stepped inside. Two braves remained outside their tent, presumably to keep them there until they were summoned. She didn’t like being separated but couldn’t deny having Cole near was better than the alternative. A small pile of kindling was stacked in center of the wickiup. On closer inspection, she realized the wooden frame of the structure was held upright by yucca leaves woven in and around the stabilizing poles. Brush and grass were pressed against and through it. The floor space stretched eight feet in diameter and the roof came to a point nearly a foot above Cole’s head, making it at least seven feet at its apex where a small opening would allow smoke to rise through.
A pile of hides sat inside against one wall. Two grass beds lay on the opposite side of the fire on the bare desert ground. She sat on one of the grass beds and crossed her legs. The adrenalin that had flooded her earlier had abandoned her, leaving her shaky.
“You okay,” Cole asked.
“Not really,” she admitted. “Do you think Noah will be okay?”
“He’s the most reasonable of the three of us and certainly the best ambassador. He’ll be fine.”
“What do you think they’re going to do with us?”
“They’re interested in us, that’s for sure. Since none of us have been arrowed yet, I’m feeling all hopeful-like.” He smiled then walked the perimeter of the wickiup, peering through the slats here and there and then pulling away a bit of grass to form a slightly larger peephole. “Noah went into that tent, over there.” He pointed.
Tessa rose and Cole stepped aside so she could look. “The one with the smoke coming out of the top,” he said.
Even though the day had warmed up considerably, she could see how a fire might feel good. Especially if someone was sick inside.
“We have to get to our ship. Maybe we can get the communications going. Maybe we can send some sort of signal. Maybe—” Tessa said.
“That ship isn’t going anywhere, ever again. Not in this time period. We don’t have the tools or the parts or the resources to make that ship space worthy again.”
“So you’re giving up? You’re saying we’re stuck here? That we have to accept this as our fate?” Tessa’s eyes burned. Damned if she was going to cry. She stared out the hole toward the village.
Cole closed his hands over her shoulders and spun her around to face him, his hands like fire through her jumpsuit. “I’m not giving up, Tessa. I never give up. Not ever. I said our ship wasn’t space worthy. Did you see the other ship? Not a scratch on it from what I could see from the top of the mesa. We might not get our ship out of this desert, but you and Noah might be able to get his going.”
“If we got back through the portal, do you think…?”
“If
we get back into that cosmic whirlpool swirling around the sky, there’s no guarantee where we might end up. But you can be damn sure I’m ready to try.”
Tessa nodded then shrugged from his hold.
“As long as we’re being held captive, we should rest while we can. No telling what’s coming next.” Tessa said, lowering herself to the grassy bed and turning to face the wall, her back to Cole.
***
Cole didn’t rest. At all. No way was he closing his eyes or letting his guard down. He was thankful Tessa could. Whether a result of her growing trust in him or her physical and mental exhaustion, either way, he was happy for the few hours of rest she’d taken.
A slight twinge of guilt pulled at him for watching her while she slept. She’d finally rolled back toward him in her sleep. Her long black lashes looked so soft and lush against her latte-colored skin. Of course, it wasn’t like there was anything else to do but watch Tess…and think. He had to believe that alien ship could be utilized. Had to believe it because the only other option was to live out his days, however few, here in the desert, out of time.
A few hours later, the tent flap opened, and the Apache boy appeared in the doorway.
Cole rose quickly, startling the boy a bit, but he recovered his composure rapidly. He didn’t blame the boy for being skittish. Hell, he felt the same damned way. He eased back down and gently shook Tessa awake. She spun around like the wicki was on fire, eyes wide and feral, clearly trying to place herself in their bizarre surroundings after waking. Her face smoothed out and her visible terror ratcheted down a few degrees when she noticed the boy and then Cole.
“Chief Itza-Chu says you are to come. Eat. And answer his questions now,” the boy said.
Tessa nodded then replied. “What is your name?”
The boy blushed and ducked his head then stood up tall—all five feet of him—to look her in the eye. “I am Bimisi.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Bimisi. How do you know Spanish?”
Bimisi’s face scrunched up in consideration, but he shook his head. “You talk to Chief Itza-Chu. Ask your questions of him. Come now.”
