The Maiden Medallions: Beastkeeper

by Edward Shawn

“Yes, yes I’m here! What took so long?” Pushing aside some thin branches, she gazed around for anything resembling a totem pole.

  “My apologies, I had another matter to tend to,” he replied. “Everything alright, Miss Bone?”

  “No, everything is not alright! I want to speak with Jeremiah!”

  “Okay, just a moment.”

  Less than a minute later, Jeremiah’s voice came on the line. “Yes, my daughter, what have you found?”

  Evelynn’s heartbeat pounded in her ears. She felt the knot of rage festering in her stomach, her soul fracturing into frozen shards of vengeance. Having time to ponder Budanski’s words, she found they rang true. The bear wouldn’t have killed Dalton and the rest, then dragged their bodies around only to pile them in one spot. It had happened across the bodies, perhaps even sought them out after catching a scent, and decided they were worthy of a meal. That being the case, the bear already paid with its life for the role it played in the gruesome chain of events.

  But someone else, the real killer, was still out there. Evelynn promised when she found the one responsible, she would leave them gasping in a widening pool of their own blood before ending their existence on this earth.

  “Evey? You there?”

  Crawling out of her head, she turned her attention back to the here and now. “You watching the satellite feed?” she asked.

  “No, I’m not,” Jeremiah replied. “I have people for that. You do understand I’m a very busy man, right?”

  “I’m not stupid! Of course I know that!”

  “Evey?”

  Evelynn breathed in deeply before continuing. She had been able to keep her emotions in check thus far; now wasn’t the time to lose her grip. “They’re all dead...their bodies piled on top of each other and left to rot out in the open.” Gazing around, she spotted something a short distance away that was a darker shade than its surroundings.

  “I see. Any thoughts as to what happened?”

  “They were murdered, that’s what happened!” Evelynn didn’t appreciate her grandfather’s cavalier attitude. He seemed to take the news as if receiving a stock update.

  Jeremiah stayed quiet for a few seconds before responding. “Yes, and it’s such a tragedy. Dalton will be hard to replace. As for you, my dear Evelynn, keep your wits about you. You still have a job to do.”

  “I know I do.”

  “I have some information to pass on,” Jeremiah said.

  “What is it?” Evelynn pushed her way closer to the dark and vertical object. As she pressed forward, depictions on the wooden pole coalesced into faces.

  “A name and address for our flying man. He does reside in Seattle as you deduced from your Internet research. His name is Shane Carter.”

  Evelynn seared the name into her brain. He may or may not have been involved with what happened here, but she was willing to bet he’d know something about it. Regardless, she still had a measure of payback to deliver and looked forward to crossing paths with Shane Carter again. The fate of Dalton’s killer would have to be put on hold, for her own retribution against Shane Carter–the flying man–took precedence.

  “I’ll leave for Seattle right away. We’re done here,” Evelynn said, appreciating the resourcefulness of the men and women in the W.A.R. room. “But I want Carl and his team with me.”

  “Of course, take them with you. I’ll be better served with them at your side.”

  Stopping in her tracks, Evelynn tilted her head up; she found what she’d been searching for. Looming large before her, Evelynn’s imagination gave life to the column of leering faces and she suddenly felt vulnerable under the scrutiny of so many eyes. Pushing the feeling aside, she began examining the totem pole.

  Jeremiah started speaking again, his tone diverting her attention. “Listen to me carefully, Evelynn. You may have reasons for seeing Mr. Carter dead, but they are not mine. I want you to bring me the medallion, and I want Mr. Carter delivered to me alive and uninjured.”

  “I wasn’t planning on killing him, just breaking him a little,” she replied.

  “But now you’re not. Do as I say–bring them both to me.”

  “Yes, Jeremiah.”

  He hung up and Evelynn removed her headset. Stuffing it into a pocket, she pulled out her phone and snapped off a series of pictures of the totem pole from all sides. Towering over her, the pole depicted both human and animal faces. A carving of an eagle with open wings sat at the very top. Splotches of what appeared to be faded gold paint stained the wood, but most of the painted surface had long eroded away. Finding a totem pole not far from the clearing, Evelynn was inclined to believe Orion’s story. But what to do about it was a question she couldn’t answer.

  She considered leaving one of the men behind to keep an eye on it but soon changed her mind. She would likely need all three of them for the mission in Seattle. It would be foolish to underestimate Carter. He possessed unique and powerful abilities and may have more power at his disposal than what he showed during their previous encounter. Evelynn couldn’t even be sure the four of them would be enough to bring him down, but at least they would have the element of surprise on their side; he couldn’t possibly know they were coming.

  If they wanted to solve the mystery of the totem pole and how James used it to get away, Jeremiah would have to leave the satellite to monitor the area whether he liked it or not. James owned a medallion and Evelynn knew her grandfather would put his other projects on hold to keep an eye out for his potential return, and perhaps learn more about the method of escape.

  Eager to start the Seattle phase of her mission, she glanced around one last time before starting back towards the clearing. Following a different route, Evelynn stepped over a puddle, then stopped and looked down at it. Someone had left a shoeprint behind. A sizable print, it pointed towards the clearing where the murders took place. The groove pattern left by the shoe resembled a type of athletic footwear. She doubted Dalton or anyone from his team wore basketball shoes or sneakers. Could it belong to the killer? She would have to ask Carl his opinion on this matter.

  Searching the ground as she continued on to the clearing, she found a second print and a large reddish-brown smear on the ground beside it. It was blood; she was sure of it. But whose was it? Perhaps the killer had been injured? Or better yet, she hoped with a vindictive heart, he lay dead somewhere out there in the unending expanse of Mother Nature.

  Entering the clearing, Evelynn found Carl and Budanski waiting there. Carl spoke into the mouthpiece of his headset. As she approached, she noticed he held the broken arrow in his hand.

  “I understand, sir,” he said. “Of course...I will.” Carl’s discussion over, he turned and held up the arrow for her to see. “We found this.”

  Evelynn assumed he was holding the same one she found, but his was broken in an entirely different section of the shaft.

  “I pulled it from Dalton’s chest.”

  “Looks like they were all killed the same way,” Budanski said in a subdued voice.

  Evelynn noticed thick smoke rising into the sky.

  “Johnson’s taking care of the remains,” Carl said, following her stare. “Whoever did this is deadly with a bow. What are we dealing with here?”

  “I’m not exactly sure but I know where we can start our search for answers. Contact Jacob and tell him to prep the jet. We’re flying to Seattle as soon as we return.” With this whole sad mess over with, Evelynn reverted back to being in charge. They had found out what happened to the missing team. It was time to get on with the next assignment.

  “One more thing,” Evelynn said, pulling her headset out and placing it into position. “What kind of shoes were they wearing?” She motioned her thumb towards the smoke.

  “Standard military issue,” Carl replied.

  “All of them?”

  “Yes.” Carl stared at her. “What’s this about?”

  “I found some footprints out there. Think they belonged to the killer. I also found blood so he may hav
e been wounded.”

  “We’ll spread out and search the area,” Carl said. “Budanski, you–”

  “No, forget about it. We have our mission in Seattle to carry out now. He’s wounded and dying or already dead. It really doesn’t matter. Our assignment was to find out what happened and we did.

  “I really think we should–”

  “No, Carl! No! We head for Seattle. There is no debate here.” She started along the same route she traveled a few days ago. Back then, she had only one thought on her mind: she wanted to get away from the flying man, this Shane Carter. Now, as she started the walk back to the vehicles parked at the edge of the forest, she looked forward to seeing his face again as she brought his world crashing down around him.

  30

  Descending the stairs, Jeremiah swiped his card through the reader and unlocked the gray metal door. Pushing it open, he entered the gloomy hall with steel doors lining both sides. A lone guard stood watch and quickly straightened his posture when seeing his employer.

  Jeremiah spoke with Evelynn less than five minutes ago. She confirmed what he already suspected. When the field team went missing, he assumed his opponents struck back at him through them. The fact the entire team was assassinated showed the ruthlessness of his enemies and the lengths they were willing to go in order to prevent him from acquiring a second medallion. In the future he wouldn’t leave anything to chance and dare underestimate his adversaries again, though a part of him couldn’t help but admire their commitment to their cause.

  Evelynn asked him to keep the satellite trained on the area. She had a theory as to what happened to the boy–something about a totem pole–and wanted to see if it panned out. Jeremiah agreed to have the satellite keep watch for as long as she deemed it necessary. If it could reveal anything regarding what happened to James, he was all for it.

  How his enemies knew he sent a team to investigate James’s disappearance bothered him a great deal. It indicated the tight ship he’d built had sprung a leak; that someone was a traitor and informed his enemies of Dalton’s field assignment. But he also found it hard to believe there was a mole on his estate. All of his employees were well compensated, and before being hired, everyone was subjected to screening for personality traits best suited for working in the environment he’d created. Not only that, but information was compartmentalized so only a few people knew of Dalton’s mission. Whoever betrayed him was not only risking their lives but those of their loved ones as well. Some of his most trusted people were discreetly looking into the matter and a report was due a few days hence.

  There was a need to move things along more quickly now. With the theory of someone working against him from within his organization, the need for secrecy would have to become a top priority in all matters of importance and even those he considered less so.

  I feel the urgency coursing through you.

  Jeremiah didn’t respond. He didn’t think he needed to confirm what Ebondust already knew.

  The solitary guard stood at attention next to a door partway down the hall, the omega emblem on the shoulder patch of his black military gear illustrating his standing as part of the team. Jeremiah reached the guard just as the door into the hallway unlocked once again. Glancing over his shoulder, he wasn’t surprised to see Dr. Grace Sanborn coming towards him pushing an empty wheelchair before her.

  A tall woman with short black hair and sharp green eyes, Dr. Sanborn was the head of his bioengineering division and someone he trusted on matters of discretion. A qualified medical doctor, one of only two he had on staff, she also possessed some skill as an interrogator. A former FBI operative, he’d brought her into the fold after learning of her disenchantment working for the bureau. Having the opportunity to run her own department coupled with a substantial pay raise, she was more than happy to apply her wide array of skills to Jeremiah’s estate.

  “Grace.” Jeremiah extended his hand which she firmly shook. “Thanks for not making me wait.”

  “I wouldn’t dare,” she said with a playful grin. Her smile disappeared as she let go of his hand. “I heard what happened to Dalton. It’s such a tragedy. Do we have any leads?”

  “People are looking into it. We’ll have some answers soon.”

  Looking the guard over who in turn completely ignored her, she turned her gaze back on Jeremiah. “It’s been a while since I’ve been down here.”

  I have never seen this female. The number of units working for you seems endless in number.

  Clearing his throat, Jeremiah turned to the guard standing at attention. “Take the rest of your shift off,” he said. “Go and enjoy the amenities my estate has to offer.”

  The guard hesitated, his eyes darting back and forth between Jeremiah and Grace.

  “I’m serious,” Jeremiah said, placing a hand on the man’s arm and gently nudging him towards the end of the hall. “Go get a meal or some drinks at the Balcony Bar. Go, enjoy yourself.”

  The guard saluted before heading down the hall.

  Jeremiah waited for him to leave before turning to Grace. “You brought the serum?”

  She patted the breast pocket of her lab coat. “Got it right here.”

  Facing the door, Jeremiah pushed the view panel aside and looked through the small pane of glass behind it. The room was large considering its purpose, extending back from the door exactly fifteen feet. Illuminated by intense fluorescent bulbs inside the out of reach ceiling, the lights remained on depriving occupants of restful sleep. It tended to make those residing within more pliable and forthcoming when answers were needed to questions being asked.

  The concrete floor and smooth walls were painted white, adding to the brightness of the room. A stainless steel toilet and sink were bolted into the right wall. Any occupant using the facilities didn’t have any privacy: they could be seen from the small porthole in the cell door as well as the camera in a corner of the ceiling.

  Keeping Grace at his back, Jeremiah punched in his personal access code on the numerical keypad built into the door. The door slid open, allowing them entry into the cell.

  Jeremiah saw his prisoner lying with her back towards him, the steady rise and fall of her shoulders indicating her deep slumber induced by sedatives. She wasn’t covered in the sheets and blanket that were provided; they remained folded on the floor at the foot of the small mattress. Near to where his prisoner slept was a clear plastic jug half-filled with water.

  The prisoner responded to the movements within the cell. A small moan escaped her lips as she attempted to roll over but was unable to do so.

  “Get a chair and some restraints from the storage closet,” Jeremiah said.

  “Be right back.” Grace left and soon returned with a folding metal chair in hand.

  Setting his cane against the wall, Jeremiah took the chair from her, unfolded it and set it on the floor. “Let’s get her up.” Lifting the prisoner from the mattress, they supported her over to the metal chair.

  Jeremiah stared at the woman slumped semiconscious in her seat. Head tilted forward, her disheveled black hair hung down obscuring her face. She looked grimy, and Jeremiah decided she needed a bath before the day was over.

  She is to be our first soldier?

  “Yes.”

  Grace looked at Jeremiah. “Should I?” she asked, removing a pair of thin black strips from her pocket.

  “Go ahead.”

  Grabbing the prisoner’s wrists, Grace secured them to the back of the chair. After checking the restraints, she removed the syringe, but Jeremiah held up his hand.

  “Just a moment. Revive her first.”

  Dropping the syringe back into place, she picked up the jug, grasped the prisoner’s hair and pulled her head back. Pouring some water down her partially open mouth, the prisoner began choking on the sudden rush of fluid down her throat.

  Her eyes snapped open, terror and confusion radiating profusely from her wide-eyed stare. Thrashing about in the chair, she continued to spit up water as Grace emptied the
remainder of the jug’s contents onto her head. Water dripping from her hair and chin, the woman’s eyes glazed over before closing. Seconds after that, her head sagged forward.

  Tossing the empty jug onto the mattress in the corner, Grace stood by as Jeremiah stared at the prisoner. “The sedative hasn’t worn off,” he said.

  “Not completely, but I’m sure she’s also suffering from fatigue due to extreme stress.”

  “Wake her.”

  Grace reached for the syringe. Removing the protective plastic tip, she went around to the back of the chair, plunged the needle into the prisoner’s left shoulder and emptied the contents. Placing the spent syringe into her breast pocket, she gazed across the room at Jeremiah. “Who is she?”

  “Why don’t you ask her that question,” he said. “You’re the interrogation expert.”

  Walking around the chair, she looked the prisoner over. “Can you hear me? Nod your head if you hear my voice.”

  The prisoner’s head moved in response to the question.

  “Good.” Grace looked at Jeremiah standing off to one side.

  “Continue, doctor.”

  Turning back to the prisoner seated before her, she started the interrogation process. “Can you speak?”

  “Yes,” the prisoner responded weakly.

  “Good. I would like to know your name. Could you tell it to me?”

  The prisoner lifted her head, following the contours of Grace’s body until reaching the doctor’s face. Pulling weakly against her restraints, she stared at Grace through bloodshot eyes. “Why am I stuck to this chair?” she whispered before slumping forward again, her tangled wet hair hanging down to her lap.

  “It’s for your protection,” Grace replied. “Now, please answer the question. What is your name?”

  “Susan.”

  Jeremiah nodded at Grace, confirming the prisoner’s response.

  “Susan? Can you tell me where you live?”

  Though her voice sounded fatigued and she looked completely drained, she continued answering the doctor’s questions. “Charmington.”

  Jeremiah nodded once again.