“You heard me, get out of here!” Roxie said sternly.
Ethan took a couple of steps back, turned swiftly, and loped off between the trees.
Roxie shook her head. She had warned him, time and time again, especially when they were kids growing up, but Ethan never seemed to get it. No matter how hard she tried to knock sense into him. Sooner or later, Ethan was going to get caught. And that wouldn’t be good for her or her other brother, Kane. If Kane were to find out Ethan had played this little stunt at the animal rescue, all hell would break loose.
As always it was up to her to keep the peace.
Which was the main reason she’d taken the job of deputy in the first place.
22
BOX CANYON
Every time Felix paid her a visit to pick up her latest artwork, Vera always rewarded herself with a tall glass of wine. So after he left, she did just that, even though she knew she had an hour-long drive ahead of her. She’d gathered up the blank canvas with the easel and her paint supplies and took them out to the Jeep truck, placing them on the rear seat. Even though she had a bit of a buzz from the wine, she had a clear enough mind to make sure she brought along her cell phone and plenty of bottled water.
But when she was more than halfway to her destination she realized she had forgotten to bring along her camera, which wasn’t a complete disaster as she had planned to paint her real-life subject on location, praying that the lechugilla hadn’t already blossomed and died.
What she hadn’t planned was finding an apparent landslide blocking the entrance to the box canyon where the lechugilla had been growing for the past quarter of a century.
“Damn.” She stopped the Jeep and surveyed the rubble blocking her path. The boulders were piled six feet high and were covered with loose rock and shale. There was a spot she thought she might be able to navigate over onto the other side without any problem.
Vera edged the four-wheel Jeep forward. The ground sloped slightly and the front all-terrain tires gripped the rock like cat claws. Vera held the steering wheel steady while the truck muscled its way up onto the flat top of a boulder.
“Come on, baby, you can do it.” She felt the adrenaline rush and knew Ben would be impressed knowing she wasn’t going to be deterred by a silly rockslide.
But then on the way down the rocks shifted and the Jeep’s chassis came crashing down, the jolt jarring her back. Her hands slipped off the steering wheel. The Jeep slid sideways off the rock and came to a halt.
Vera opened her door. She scooted off the seat onto the ground, grabbing the small of her back with her right hand. “Jesus that hurt!” She stepped away from the vehicle and walked around, hoping to ease the pain. Even though her back was sore, she was certain she hadn’t sustained any permanent damage to her spine.
From where she stood, she could see the lone lechugilla in the pocket of the box canyon. In its final day it stood 16 feet tall and was in full bloom, the seedpods gaping like serpent heads.
Time was of the essence.
She shook off the pain and opened the rear door. She grabbed the canvas and easel and walked a hundred yards where she set up a few feet away from the plant.
On her way back to collect her paint supplies, she noticed something black pooled under the Jeep. She got down on her hands and knees and looked under the vehicle.
A rock had punched a hole in the pan and oil was leaking out onto the sand.
“Shit!” She fished her cell phone out of her jean pocket. She went to call Ben then realized she wasn’t getting a signal. “Come on, now what?” She knew if she wanted to get a clear signal she would have to get out of the canyon but that would mean losing her chance to paint the quickly demising plant while it was still in bloom.
She had only a couple of hours of sunlight.
It was now or never.
Vera grabbed her paint supplies and rushed back to her easel.
23
THE HOGAN
“What is it?” Sophia asked, riding alongside her father as they approached the weathered structure that looked as though it had been there for centuries. Timber rafters protruded from the base of the dome roof comprised of dry mud and thatch. The small building had an igloo design but instead of blocks of ice, the circular shape was made up of a cinder block pattern of red adobe clay, a rectangular entrance with no door and two square windows void of glass.
“It’s an old Navajo dwelling. They call it a hogan.”
“Does anyone live there?” Sophia asked.
“I doubt anyone’s lived there in years.” Miguel reined in Poco. He grabbed the horn and swung his leg over the cantle, stepping down off the stirrups. He walked the Appaloosa to the shady side of the hogan where there was a small patch of prairie grass and the horse would be out of the sun. He tied the reins around the bough of a dead mesquite tree.
Before he could help Sophia down from her horse, Scout was already ambling over to be with Poco. Miguel assisted Sophia in climbing down from the saddle. He tethered Scout alongside Poco. Both horses were content to graze.
Grabbing the lunch sack from the saddlebag, Miguel unhooked both canteens. He had no idea what the outdoor temperature was at the moment as it was a dry heat but he figured it had to be in the high nineties. He decided to bring the Winchester carbine and pulled it out of the scabbard. “Let’s go inside. It’ll be much cooler.”
They walked over to the dark entrance. “Let me check before we go in,” Miguel said. “Make sure there aren’t any pesky critters.”
Rays of sunshine filtered inside the single-room abode. A small wooden table was in the center with two rickety chairs.
Miguel went in and placed the canteens and lunch sack on a chair then leaned the rifle against the wall. He spotted a tumbleweed that had blown in. He grabbed the dried-up ball of dead bush and dragged it along the dirt, checking for anything that might be hiding underneath. There was nothing but dusty soil.
“It’s safe to come in,” he said.
Sophia stepped onto the threshold and glanced inside.
“Let’s sit at the table,” Miguel said, “and see what they packed for us.”
Miguel waited for Sophia to occupy the empty chair then wiped the dust off the table with his shirtsleeve, took the two canteens and the sack lunch, and put them on the tabletop. He opened the lunch sack and handed Sophia a sandwich wrapped in wax paper along with her canteen. He took out his own sandwich and saw that the women had also packed a baggy of jerky and some dried apricots.
Miguel peeked between the two thick slices of home baked bread and saw a generous layer of apricot jam. He closed the sandwich and took a big bite. He looked over at Sophia who was munching away. Apricots were her favorite.
In between mouthfuls, Miguel said, “The Indians always built their dwellings facing east.”
“Why’s that?” Sophia asked, wiping a dapple of jam from her lower lip.
“That way they could always look out and see the sun rise every morning.”
“So, is this place special?” Sophia took a drink from her canteen.
“It is,” Miguel said with a grin. “Abuela brought me here once when I was a kid. I thought it was pretty cool. I always imagined what it might have been like living back then.”
Miguel collected the wrappings and stuffed them in the lunch sack. “There’s something I want you to see, if it’s still here.” He got up from the table. He stepped over to the concave wall where there was a narrow shelf tucked between two clay cinder blocks. He reached in and took out a small metal box. Miguel brought the tin over to the table and sat down.
“What’s in it?” Sophia asked.
Miguel opened the lid and gingerly tipped the contents onto the rough surface of the table. “Take a look.”
Sophia gazed at the artifacts. She studied the etching on a copper bracelet.
“Like it?” Miguel asked.
“I love it.”
“Check out the other stuff.”
Sophia ran her fingers a
long a turquoise beaded necklace then weighed a rough-cut jade stone in the palm of her hand. There were half a dozen silver rings. Two fit her small fingers perfectly but she removed them and put them back in the tin. Next was a beat-up pack of Bicycle playing cards along with a few cartridge shells from different caliber guns.
Miguel put a casing up to his lips and blew, making a whistling noise.
“Let me try.” Sophia picked up a brass casing and was able to duplicate the same sound.
“You should start a band.”
“Yeah, right.” She reached down and picked up a silver coin. “What’s this?”
“Looks like a silver dollar. Minted back in the 1800s. Might be worth something.”
“You think so?”
“Never know.” Miguel watched as Sophia carefully gathered everything up and put it back in the tin. “You don’t want any of it?” he asked.
“It’s not mine.”
“True,” Miguel said, feeling a rush of pride knowing that he and Maria had taught their daughter well. “Maybe someone will come and reclaim it one day.”
“I hope so,” Sophia said.
Poco and Scout let out fearful cries and began stomping the ground.
“What’s wrong with them?” Sophia asked.
“I don’t know, something’s got them spooked.” Miguel grabbed the rifle. He and Sophia went outside and dashed around back to where the horses were tied up.
A diamondback was coiled at the base of the old mesquite tree, shaking its rattler.
Poco and Scout reared up on their hind legs, kicking their front hooves, frantically trying to get away from the menacing snake ready to strike.
Before Miguel could take aim, Poco snapped his reins tied to the bough. Scout was so scared, he almost tripped and fell, and then he too broke free. Both horses took off in a hard gallop and raced away into the desert.
“Stupid horses,” Miguel said.
“Where are they going?” Sophia asked.
“Back to the barn.”
“How are we going to get back?”
“How do you think?”
“You mean walk? For how far?” Sophia asked.
“I think we covered about ten miles,” Miguel said, knowing that when the horses got back to the barn his mother and Maria would be frantic worrying what had happened.
“But won’t Mom and Abuela come looking for us?”
“I would hope so, but there’s a slight problem.”
“What’s that?”
“I never told them where we were going,” Miguel confessed, feeling the fool for jeopardizing his daughter’s safety and getting them stranded in the desert.
“Oh my God, the snake,” Sophia gasped.
Miguel glanced over at the mesquite tree. The rattler was gone. “Must have slithered back into its hole.”
Then he thought to check the rifle to see if it was loaded. He ratcheted the lever. A bullet ejected out the top of the chamber and fell to the dirt. He continued until there were six bullets on the ground by his feet. He picked them up, blew off any grit, and inserted them back into the side feed. “Good thing Abuela thought to load the gun or we would be defenseless as Poco ran off with the box of ammunition.”
“So what are we going to do?”
“Well, I think we should wait for it to cool down. Then we’ll go.”
“In the dark? Won’t we get lost?” Sophia asked.
“Don’t worry. Tonight should be a clear sky with a full moon. I’ll teach you how to read the stars. Think you’re up for it? It’ll take us maybe three hours.”
“I can do it,” Sophia said bravely.
“Good girl.” Miguel was proud of her and patted Sophia on the shoulder. “Come back inside and we can play some cards.”
“Can we play kings in the corner?”
“You bet.”
24
WHO’S THERE
Macy’s shift was going to be up soon. She was beat. Everything that could go wrong seemed to be doing just that. The drawer on the cash register kept sticking and giving her problems each time she wanted to put money in the till and hand out change to the customers. If that wasn’t annoying enough, the slushy machine wasn’t working.
Then someone had dropped a six-pack of bottled beer on the floor in the back sending suds and shattered glass everywhere. By the time she grabbed a mop and bucket to clean it up, the bungling thief had snuck down the aisle and ran out the door but not before snatching the donation jar for wayward children off the counter.
Often times she felt more like a security guard than a gas station convenience store clerk having to always keep a vigilant eye on everyone that came in, especially the teenagers with their sticky fingers. Even though she was supposed to avoid confrontation if she witnessed a potential pilfering in progress, she ignored the rules and laid into the thieves, threatening them with bodily harm if they didn’t put whatever it was they were about to steal back on the shelf and get the hell out of her store.
She wondered if the boys would be home when she got off and what she might cook for dinner if they were. Lately, they had been choosing to spend time at their friends’ houses and eating there, rather than with her. She knew they were probably drinking and doing drugs but when she asked them about it, they always denied that they were and it had become a big problem, eroding their relationship.
Ethan had been the perfect sounding board for trying to get into her kids’ minds as he confessed to having recently kicked a serious drug habit though he still smoked weed.
But now, she wasn’t so sure being with Ethan was such a good idea, especially after she saw his violent side last night. The way he had viciously lashed out at that biker even though the man had it coming and then that strange noise she heard Ethan make when he was behind the table.
And why had Kane rushed Ethan out of the bar?
The chime sounded and the glass door automatically opened.
Macy went behind the counter and walked up to the register, missing whoever it was that had just come into the store as they had disappeared down one of the aisles. She looked up at the round mirror mounted near the ceiling on the far side of the store but she couldn’t see anyone, which gave her pause. She hoped they weren’t carrying.
It always made her uncomfortable whenever someone came into the store with a visible weapon. She knew she couldn’t deny them access to the store, as it was legal to carry a firearm as long as the person had a permit. She often wondered what would stop them from robbing her at gunpoint. Or if they tried a five-finger discount if they would even give her a second thought and just walk out with their free merchandise knowing she would be less inclined to tangle with someone armed.
She kept looking at the large mirror, hoping to spot the person, but whoever it was, was doing a good job of not being seen.
“Can I help you?” Macy called out.
She got no reply.
Macy looked out the front window of the store. The parking lot was empty.
Which meant whoever was in the store had parked on the side of the building so as not to be seen by the outside security cameras. Something the Quick Stop Killer would do, as the police still didn’t have a description of his car.
Macy touched the baseball bat behind the counter, wishing it were a double barrel shotgun instead.
Even though the store was air-conditioned, sweat drizzled down between her shoulder blades to the small of her back.
She glanced at her cell phone on the counter. Sheriff Lobo was number 4 on speed dial if need be.
A glass jar shattered on the floor.
“Hey, what are you doing back there?” she yelled. “You better not be breaking stuff!” Even though she was nervous as hell and feared for her life, she would be damned if she was going to let some creep come in and wreck the store.
She heard a strange sound on the other side of the aisle like wood cracking under pressure.
Macy grabbed the baseball bat. “You need to leave!”
; She could hear raspy breathing as she came out from behind the counter. She grabbed her cell phone, scrolled through her contacts, and punched in the number for the sheriff. Macy put the phone up to her ear, hoping someone would pick up, but it went directly to voicemail. “Shit,” she said.
Macy walked over to the end of the shelf, raised the bat over her shoulder ready to swing, and stepped into the aisle.
There was no one there, just a broken jar of pickles on the floor.
She could smell rank breath, feel the hotness of it on the back of her neck. She turned slightly and came face to face with a monstrous creature with glaring black eyes and vicious fangs.
Hot blades of fire sliced through her abdomen.
She looked down and saw the front of her blue smock shredded and her insides spilling out of a large gash across her stomach. She cocked her head to gaze up at her attacker but then her legs gave out and she fell to the floor.
Lying on her side in a growing pool of blood she watched the thing run out of the store.
Her cell phone began ringing.
About time, Sheriff! A little late don’t you think?
The persistent ring tone soon stopped.
And that is when Macy’s eyes drooped closed.
25
BARN-SPOILED
Maria was sweeping the porch when she heard the horses gallop up and trot inside the barn. She opened the screen door and hollered, “Camilla, they’re back!”
Camilla stepped out the door, removed her apron, and tossed it on the rocking chair. “Let’s go help them with the horses.” They walked over to the barn entrance and stepped inside.
Poco and Scout were in their respective stalls, still wearing their saddles.
Maria glanced around. “Where are Miguel and Sophia?”
Camilla approached Poco. The Appaloosa was skittish and stepped back when Camilla tried to touch it.
Cryptid Frontier (Cryptid Zoo Book 7) Page 10
