The Sam Reilly Collection Volume 3

by Christopher Cartwright

  Ben was ducking under the still-rotating blades. She waited for him to run to her.

  “Jenn, what the hell is going on?” he asked, his eyes taking in her disheveled appearance. “What happened? Why didn’t you come back last night?”

  She quickly filled him in on Brody’s disappearance and night falling before the other three came out of the sipapu.

  “That doesn’t sound like any sipapu I ever heard of,” he said. A frown began to form between his thick black eyebrows. “What do you want to do now?”

  “Fly out there with you, of course,” she said.

  “Room for only three,” he responded. “I’m going, because it’s my land and my employee. The pilot. Malcom’s body coming back. We can take you out, but not back, so you can’t go.”

  “But we never found Malcom. I’m going,” she said, challenging him with her chin jutting out. “We can send another couple of hands out on horseback, and they can lead a couple of horses for Brody and me to come back on.”

  Ben swore. “Why didn’t you say so? Get them together, and we’ll wait for you.”

  Sending him an exasperated frown, Jenn went to convey the change in plans to the hand she’d spoken to earlier. Why didn’t men ever communicate fully? She supposed the hands had just come back to the ranch and turned in without reporting to Ben. But Ben hadn’t asked about Malcom when they were on the phone. She thought he knew. A few minutes later, she boarded the helicopter and put on the headphones the pilot handed her.

  “Where do we go?” he asked. “I understand you know the way.”

  Minutes later, the pilot flew above the canyon, searching for a safe place to land. He found it about a mile up-canyon from where Jenn pointed out the bend that concealed the ruins. As the chopper settled into the soft sand of the wash, he let them know that he was watching a developing weather situation. He’d be waiting for their signal at a spot on the mesa above.

  The canyon could be subject to a dangerous flash flood if the cell over Ignacio developed into a thunderstorm, he informed them. According to his topographical maps, the head of the canyon lay within the drainage area. Well-versed in the ways of desert flash flooding, Jenn and Ben acknowledged the warning. They’d get above the canyon floor as quickly as possible, and try to find a route that approached the ruins from there. Even though there wasn’t a cloud in the blue, blue sky, a rainstorm from tens or hundreds of miles away could create a raging flood in the bottom of the canyon where only a trickle ran now.

  Ben told Jenn he judged they could travel the easy route on the canyon floor to get to the ruins, and then they’d have to determine the next move. He had a radio to communicate with the chopper pilot, and would check the weather report as well as scout a route up the canyon wall opposite the direction of his ranch.

  Until then, Jenn hadn’t considered the logistics of getting Brody to the chopper if he couldn’t make it on his own. In truth, it was just as problematic as what they’d already rejected. Carrying a dead weight of almost two hundred pounds up a sheer cliff wall wasn’t practical for two men, much less one man and a woman. “We can’t possibly carry him up there!” she exclaimed. “How were you planning to do it?”

  “Rescue basket,” Ben answered. “The cliff is lower on this side, and I think the pilot can come down into the canyon a bit, even though it was too narrow to land just below the ruins. But we’ll have to climb out.”

  “You forget, I’m not going out with you. I have to go with Brody.”

  Ben looked back at her, an inscrutable expression in his eyes. “I haven’t forgotten. I want to check this side for how these drug runners are getting here. You said there was no sign of them on our side.”

  “I’m sure they come up the canyon from the south,” she said. But as she said it, she hesitated. There were no major roads near the mouth of the canyon. By helicopter, or from the other side, there were at least two different routes they could take.

  Ben didn’t answer, but set a faster pace. “We need to get out of the bottom as soon as possible. Let’s pick it up.”

  With his longer stride, he soon outpaced her, and disappeared around a bend. Jenn’s heart sped up when she looked up and didn’t see him ahead of her. “Ben!”

  Relieved when she heard him answer, she smiled. They had their differences, but she could count on him. “Nothing. Just can’t see you.”

  “I’ll wait, but hurry!” he called back. “I think I’m just below the ruins.”

  From her journey the day before, Jenn remembered being able to see them easily. She thought he may not have gone far enough to do so, but when she caught up with him and looked where he pointed, she realized he’d found either another pueblo ruin or a part she hadn’t seen of the one she knew of. The way up was easier, almost a ramp instead of the hand-and-toe indentations they’d climbed to get to the kiva.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m not sure this is the same ruin. But we might as well go up and check it out.”

  Without answering, Ben proceeded in front of her and both were soon standing in a much bigger village. A narrow trail led around an outcrop, where Jenn assumed they’d find the part she’d seen before. She said as much.

  “Stay behind me. We’d better make sure no one is here.”

  Jenn bristled, but settled when Ben took the handgun out of a concealed shoulder holster. She hadn’t known he was wearing it. Seeing it now, she concluded it was a good idea he was.

  They hadn’t kept their voices low. Anyone hiding inside one of the well-preserved apartments in the pueblo structure would know they were there already. But would they continue to hide, or come out to confront them? She moved closer to Ben, the instinct to seek protection overriding her usual bravado.

  Ben scanned the slits in the adobe walls that passed for windows. Evidently, he was able to satisfy himself that no one was there, so he headed for the trail around the outcrop with Jenn in close pursuit. Neither spoke as they cautiously eased around the blind corner.

  As Jenn had suspected, the part of the ruins she was more familiar with lay just on the other side. As the trail widened and then disappeared into the broad area between the structures and the edge, she overtook Ben and led the way to the kiva.

  Ben radioed the pilot that they’d arrived and asked how long he could wait.

  “Weather report’s deteriorating,” he answered. “I’ll go to the top and wait there as long as I can.”

  “Okay. Some of my hands should be there soon,” Ben answered.

  Jenn waited until he’d signed off, and then said, “Ben, will you help me look for Brody before you go looking for the drug runners’ route? I’m afraid to go in there on my own.”

  It cost her a great deal of emotional currency to say it. The fact that it was true wasn’t as important as the fact that it was the only argument that might sway him, in her opinion. Her observations had concluded he was far more concerned about criminal activity on his land than the death or disappearance of a couple of hands. She was disappointed in him.

  Ben gazed out into the canyon, making her wonder if he was looking for the hands that were supposedly on their way to help her. To her relief, he agreed.

  “Okay. Let’s go get him out.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Inside the Sipapu

  Brody woke again, this time certain he was conscious though the conditions hadn’t changed. He was certain he was awake, or as certain as he could be. He’d never been hungry in a dream before, so the fact that his stomach thought his throat had been cut was probably an accurate clue he was awake. He moaned.

  The sound echoed, making him believe he was still alone. After so long in the darkness, his hearing had become more acute. He heard no breathing, no rustle of bat wings or the almost-audible squeaks they sometimes made. He’d assumed from his captor’s conversation the night before that he was still in the cave system he’d entered through the sipapu.

  Now he concluded that it was a more extensive system than he knew. Jenn would b
e moving heaven and earth to find him, but would she have the resources? There was no way to know where he was in the caves, or whether his location was so hidden that no one who didn’t already know it was there could find it. How long could he survive? Would they give up looking for him before he died?

  Most puzzling of all, why was he still alive? His captor could have killed him, and Brody had no idea why he hadn’t. Somehow, the thought gave him hope. Maybe there was a chance for him, which made it all the more puzzling why they hadn’t found Malcom.

  With hope came powerful thirst. He began to feel around his body as far as he could reach, trussed and tethered as he was. If his captor had left him some water, he could live for days. His emotions became a roller coaster as he discovered that if there was water in the cave, it was out of his reach. Thirst turned to obsession. As the hours passed, Brody could not stop himself from repeating an endless loop of hope, followed by despair, until he thought he might go insane before rescue or death occurred.

  At last, he howled in utter frustration. Tears came then, despite his attempt to stop them. He thought it might seal his death warrant if he wasted a drop of moisture that remained in his body. With a Herculean effort, he forced himself to become dispassionate and stop crying.

  It was then that he picked up a distant sound. Someone was coming.

  “I see you haven’t died yet,” the gravelly voice observed.

  “Why haven’t I?” Brody answered. As before, the blow came without warning, but this time Brody felt the movement before the back of his assailant’s hand connected with his cheek. He avoided the worst of the blow by turning his head. “How can you see anything?” he asked out of genuine curiosity.

  Light bloomed in the darkness, causing Brody to wince and shut his eyes. “My secret,” the guy drawled.

  He held out a canteen, and Brody nodded. “Please.”

  Cool water slipped down his throat and dribbled from his chin. He couldn’t swallow fast enough, and mourned the loss of the drops that didn’t make it into his mouth. Too soon, the guy withdrew the canteen and capped it.

  “How much would your people pay to have you back?” the guy asked.

  “My people are poor. They would give everything they have,” Brody said. “But they don’t have much.” He believed it was the truth.

  “What about your employer, Ben Whitecloud? What would he give?”

  Brody thought about it. “I don’t know,” he said. He truly didn’t. Ben wasn’t a bad man, but his relative wealth had come hard for him. And he owed Brody nothing more than his wages.

  “What if we wanted him to turn a blind eye to our presence here in return for you? Would he do that?”

  Brody hoped so, but he found he couldn’t know. He didn’t know Ben that well. “I hope he would. Honestly, I don’t know.”

  “You’d better pray he will. Now that he knows we’re here, that’s a problem for us.”

  Brody didn’t think that called for an answer, and he stayed silent.

  “Who’s the pretty woman with him?” The question came after a few minutes of silence, during which his captive had taken something out of a backpack and was chewing on it. Brody was focused on the food and almost missed the question.

  “What?”

  With exaggerated patience, the guy held out a piece of jerky, which Brody snatched at with his teeth. Too quickly, the guy pulled it back.

  “You want this? Who’s the woman with Whitecloud?”

  Brody was genuinely confused. “With him where? At the ranch? Probably my sister, Jenn Williams.” Immediately he regretted his answer, in case it put Jenn in danger. Just as quickly, he changed his mind when the guy held out the jerky again, and this time let Brody catch it between his teeth.

  “Not at the ranch. They’re in the ruins. It looks like they’re going to come in and look for you. Whether they find you, and whether they get out of here, depends on how Whitecloud answers. Hope you enjoy the jerky. It could be your last meal.”

  With that, the light went out again and Brody heard his captor’s steps fade into the distance. Brody’s loop of hope and despair gained a new emotion—fear for Jenn. He began to pray to the Catholic God in whose school he’d been educated, and to all the spirits of his people, that she forget about him and go home to safety, or that Ben had the right answer.

  Chapter Forty

  Anasazi Ruin

  “You know, you shouldn’t come in here,” Ben said. He was at the top of the kiva wall, preparing to descend the ladder inside.

  “It’s a little late for that,” Jenn snapped. “Are you seriously going to tell me you believe all that nonsense?”

  “Don’t you?”

  Ben’s question brought her up short. If she were honest, she’d have to say she half-did. Her grandmother had believed it and had trained her in the ancient medicine. But her modern education made her reject it as nothing more than superstition. When she’d told Brody she could banish Skinwalkers, it was only to reassure him.

  But there was something weird and mysterious about Malcom’s disappearance. Nothing in her experience explained it. It seemed more closely related to the old tales than to anything Jenn knew of modern life. She was spooked, and that’s why she’d asked Ben to help her in the first place. It didn’t mean she was going to let it stop her.

  “No. Not a word. Get over and out of my way. I’m coming up.” With that, she began to climb the ladder to the top of the wall, noting with satisfaction that Ben’s head was sinking below the top on the inside of the kiva.

  A few minutes later, she stood beside him at the bottom of the kiva, taking in the details.

  “It’s not all that impressive,” she observed.

  “Probably all the furnishings were taken when they left here,” Ben answered. He put his hand on the smoke-blackened ceiling. “Do you want to lead the way?” His smile was mocking.

  “Go ahead, my handsome prince,” Jenn mocked in kind. Her sweet smile was meant to take the sting out of it. Why she was flirting with her ex while her younger brother was possibly in mortal danger didn’t have an answer, and so she didn’t try. Ben winked at her before ducking into the opening they’d called the sipapu.

  Ben’s voice floated out to her. “Man, it’s dark in here.”

  Jenn followed him in, switching on her flashlight. “The hands told me there were three openings leading out of this room. Two don’t go far. The third leads far into the cliffside. It’s where Brody was when he reportedly came back out on his own after they told him Malcom’s body wasn’t in the other passages. The others said there were no significant side-caves in there. Brody never came out, and the others didn’t see him when they did.”

  “He has to be in one of the shallow ones,” Ben reasoned. “He must have lost his way, maybe when his flashlight gave out. He’s probably waiting for someone to get there with a light.”

  “Maybe so,” Jenn remarked. “It’s as good a place to start as any. From what they told me, it’s the first opening on the left.”

  Ben put his left hand on the cave wall and kept it there as he walked. Jenn followed, watching their shadows dance on the walls and ceiling of the cave as they avoided stumbling over rubble in the cave. Before long, they found the opening and went inside, immediately having to duck as the ceiling was much lower.

  “I don’t think this one is very promising,” Jenn said, dodging a stalactite. The passage was narrow and obstructed by both stalactites and stalagmites.

  “You never know when these things will open up into bigger rooms,” Ben said. “I remember visiting Carlsbad Caverns when I was a kid. I’d think we were at a dead end, and then we’d go around a corner, and there was another big room.”

  A few yards farther along, they’d come to what appeared to be the end of the cave, but Ben spotted an opening no more than knee high. Ben dropped to his hands and knees. “Wait until I can see if this is passable.”

  “Why would he crawl in there? Surely he’d know it was the wrong way to get out
?”

  “No telling what he was thinking if he was stumbling around in the dark. Maybe thought it would be a good place to hide if the drug runners came in?”

  That made sense, Jenn thought. “Shouldn’t I go in first?” she argued. “I’m smaller.”

  “You’re not afraid of what might be in there?”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Snakes, spiders, scorpions, Skinwalkers.” Ben’s tone still mocked her.

  Jenn suppressed a grin. “I know better than that. Snakes would have been at the entrance. I’ll watch where I put my hands. You,” she added, “better be careful of Skinwalkers. I have my medicine pouch. Move over.”

  Jenn dropped to her hands and knees, hesitated as she swept the couple of feet before her for unfriendly insects, and then crawled into the small passageway. By the time she had to drop to her belly, she was convinced Brody couldn’t have come this way. Surprisingly, it opened far enough for her to crawl on hands and knees again, and within a few yards had broken into a larger room. Just like Ben had said it might.

  She crawled out, then turned to call back through the passage. “It may be tight, but I think you can get through. There’s another room here.”

  Ben’s faint answer was, “Coming.”

  Jenn didn’t wait for him. The room was smaller than the one at the kiva entrance, but another tunnel-like passage led out of it. She started down it, and came face-to-face with a lurid red Z painted on the wall. She gasped and flinched back.

  “What is it?” Ben’s voice startled her again and she jumped.

  “Baby, what…”

  Ben’s widening eyes indicated he’d seen the graffiti. “Oh, shit. Jenn, we’ve got to get out of here.”

  “What does it mean?” she asked.

  “Los Zetas,” he answered. “That’s their sign. It must have been their drugs you guys found. The FBI will listen now, if we live to tell it. We’ve got to go.”

  “Not without Brody,” Jenn said, though her entire body was trembling.

  “Baby…”