The Origin (The Sighting #2)

by Christopher Coleman

  “They’ll not need much reason to kill us, Samuel. You know that, don’t you?”

  Samuel suddenly felt a surge of power flood inside of him. It was a feeling not unlike that he felt only a few hours earlier as he watched the sea beast rip apart the crippled man on the beach. He thought of Kitchi flailing and twisting his arms and torso, screaming with a terror Samuel hadn’t known possible in a man, his legs hanging below him like the impotent limbs of a dead squid.

  His death had come too quickly for Samuel’s pleasure, but unlike with Nootau, this time he could enjoy the full spectacle of his god, its power on open display. The exposure of the beach was like a canvas for the creature, and Samuel had viewed its work with reverence. It had reminded him of the ancient Greek plays he’d read in school, and the magnificent amphitheaters that had staged the tales for all to see.

  Except Samuel was the only audience to this tragedy, the lone witness to the magical destruction of the ocean demon. “What do you mean?” Samuel asked, his words knowing, confident.

  Elyoner continued her stare on the open village. “They don’t want us here, and we have nowhere else to go. I don’t know what really happened with Nootau, but I will not sentence the entire colony to death for your wrongs. Do you understand what I mean, Samuel?”

  Samuel did. If it came to it, his mother would sacrifice him for the sake of the colony. It was fair, he thought; sacrifice was how civilizations had survived since the first presence of Adam in the Garden. And it would be how he survived as well. He needed his god. Needed to learn how to summon it. Control it. Use its power for his own.

  “I understand, mother. I’ll not make trouble for you again.”

  Samuel finally turned from the window and walked past his mother, stopping for a moment in the doorway to his room. “I’m not feeling well today,” he said. “I’ll be staying in bed until I’m better.”

  There was no argument from his mother. “That’s probably for the best,” she said.

  Samuel walked into his room and lay on his bed, and then, just before he went to sleep for the rest of the day, he thought of a plan to find the Woman of the Western Shores.

  Chapter 17

  “Funny seeing you here,” Calazzo said.

  “Hysterical,” Danny agreed, matching the sarcasm of the portly sheriff. He sat back casually in the metal chair that had been folded out for him in front of Sheriff Calazzo’s desk, looking much more relaxed than he felt. He had come to the station voluntarily, but really, he had little choice this time. There was a body found—at least a part of one—directly in front of his house, so if he had put up any reluctance, he felt arrest would have been a certainty. And, he thought now, it still might be.

  “Do you want a lawyer?” Calazzo asked, shifting his tone into one of a more formal nature, leaving all the passive banter that he and Danny had developed behind.

  “I don’t know anything about what happened, sheriff, so no, I suppose I’ll pass on a lawyer for the moment.”

  Calazzo pursed his lips and nodded. “I appreciate that, Danny. And I also believe you. But I also don’t.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means I believe you when you say you don’t know what happened to that poor soul who was in possession of that arm you found on the beach. But I also think you think you know what happened, and that part I don’t believe.”

  “You think I think I know?”

  “I think you got some ideas about a sea monster terrorizing our little beach town here. Like some kind of Bigfoot Jaws situation or something.” Calazzo paused, sparing any mocking looks. “I think you believe in that story I showed you yesterday. The one written by your friend. What was her name? Sarah, I think it was. Yes, that’s it.”

  Danny didn’t reply, and he suddenly felt the situation was nearing the point of him needing a lawyer. “Did you have any questions for me, Sheriff?”

  Calazzo let his eyes linger on Danny for a moment and then said, “Did you hear anything last night or this morning?”

  Danny nodded and said calmly, “I thought I heard a scream. Screaming. But I was sleeping at the time, so my first thought was that they were coming from my dreams.”

  “You have nightmares, Danny?”

  “Who doesn’t?”

  “Where is your wife?”

  “What?”

  “Your wife. I did a little research on you. I know you’re a married man—at least you were back in Rove Beach—but I don’t recall seeing a wife on your arm since you’ve been here in Wickard.”

  “Maybe she’s back at the house frying up some bacon.”

  “Is she?”

  “If she is or she isn’t, what does this have to do with th—”

  “Sheriff.” Officer Benitez appeared in the doorway, her light brown face now a pale shade of pink.

  “What do you got, deputy?”

  “The prints came back. We know who it is?” Benitez swallowed hard, shifting her eyes from Danny and then back to the sheriff.

  “You gonna make me guess, Benitez?”

  “It’s Gerald DeRose. The father of those kids from yesterday.”

  “What?” Danny blurted, his throat constricting as the news registered in his mind. He stared in disbelief at Officer Benitez, trying to meet her eyes, but she was vigilantly focused on Calazzo now, avoiding him.

  “Shit.” Calazzo closed his eyes and sighed, as if his suspicions had been revealed as true. “Have you contacted Mrs. DeRose yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Okay then, I suppose that should be my duty. I’ll head out there now.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “And Benitez?”

  “Yes, Sheriff?”

  Calazzo stood and walked to the door of his office. “Place this man under arrest.”

  “What?” Benitez asked. “But sir?”

  Calazzo shook his head and crinkled his face, confused. “What’s the problem, officer?”

  “I...I just don’t think—”

  “When I need your thoughts on something, I will explicitly ask for them.”

  “Well, great, then I guess—"

  “I saw something on my porch,” Danny interrupted, steering the growing tension between the two officers toward himself.

  Calazzo dipped his head and stared at Danny, a thin smile on his face. “Did you now? How convenient?”

  “You never asked me if I saw anything. Too busy with my marital history, remember?”

  Calazzo chuckled. “What did you see, Mr. Lynch?”

  “It was dark still, so I couldn’t see any detail from my porch, but before I went down to the beach, I saw, I don’t know, a figure there. It was walking away from the spot where I found the arm.”

  “In which direction was it walking?”

  “South. I thought it was just an early riser; I didn’t think much of it at the time, but now...”

  Calazzo let the information linger and then said, “No description? That’s not too helpful.”

  “Well, I guess that’s not entirely true.”

  “Well, then why don’t you go ahead and just give me the whole truth, Danny. I thought that was the point we were at now.”

  Danny swallowed and took a deep breath. “The figure was short, thin. It looked like a child.”

  “A child?” It was Benitez this time.

  Danny nodded. “I can’t be sure, but the more I think about it, it might have been the DeRose kid, Shane.”

  Calazzo stared hard at Danny now. “You saying you think that little nine-year old boy killed his father at the beach in front of your house in the middle of the night? Is that what you’re theorizing, Mr. Lynch?”

  It wasn’t exactly Danny’s theory, but the other one was no longer suitable to be put on the table, at least not according to Sheriff Calazzo. “I don’t know, sheriff, I’m just telling you what I saw.”

  “Okay, Mr. Lynch, thank you for the information. We appreciate it.” Calazzo turned back to Benitez. “I’m headed over to
the DeRose house. In the meantime, like I told you, lock him up.”

  Chapter 18

  “Sokwa!”

  Samuel crept from the darkness of the thick loblolly pines that grew like giant asparagus just outside the window under which Sokwa slept. The night was as clear as the one before, and Samuel could see the window—which was wide and low and easily accessible to Samuel, even from the ground—clearly from the forest.

  Sokwa’s family’s wigwam was as humble as any in the village and was built on the outer edges of the community, as far from the center as any home in the colony. The geography of the wigwam was the only reason Samuel’s mission to reach the girl was even plausible.

  And Samuel knew the location; he and Nootau had visited twice before, both occasions upon which Sokwa had requested to meet the two boys after suppertime. She was an adventurous girl, Sokwa, causing much trouble for her father during her twelve years, often due to such things as inviting boys to her window in the evening hours while the rest of her family slept.

  Of course, Sokwa had really only wanted to see Nootau on those occasions, Samuel knew that, but a request to meet Nootau alone would have revealed too obviously her feelings for the boy. Besides, even though she didn’t care for Samuel in the way she did for Nootau, Samuel knew she thought of him as pleasant enough to be around.

  He placed his face inside the small opening, and from there he could see Sokwa lying on her side, her back facing the window. He could have leaned in and touched her shoulder from where he stood, but he was cautious not to startle the girl, fearing she may scream and draw attention. Samuel wasn’t concerned about stirring Sokwa’s grandmother, who was her guardian, though it seemed Sokwa was more of the caretaker in the arrangement. It was Jania, Sokwa’s sister, the girl Kitchi had ‘offered’ to Samuel on the beach the previous night, he was worried about. Jania slept just across from Sokwa, and a scream from her sister would certainly have triggered her awake.

  “Sokwa!” Samuel whispered again, and this time the girl turned over immediately and opened her eyes, rubbing them once, trying to bring Samuel into focus through the darkness.

  “Samuel?”

  Samuel held a finger to his mouth. “Yes.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I need your help, Sokwa.”

  Sokwa sat up in her bed and scooted to the edge so that her face was nearly outside the window, holding a blanket to her chest. She turned back to where her family slept inside and then again to Samuel. She lowered her voice. “You are under suspicion, Samuel. You must know that, yes?”

  “That is what I am here to talk to you about.”

  “Then you know what happened to Kitchi?”

  “Kitchi?” Samuel scrunched his face tight, shaking his head quickly, confused. “No, I am here about Nootau. What is suspicious about Kitchi?”

  “He is missing, Samuel. You have not heard?”

  Samuel shook his head again. “I have been sick today. I was in bed since the morning. And I heard no visits to my home regarding Kitchi? What is it about? What has happened?”

  Sokwa shrugged, and Samuel could see his act of ignorance was working. “He has gone missing. That is all I know?”

  “Missing? I have talked to Kitchi recently, just yesterday, in fact. On my way home from re-stocking the wood pile.”

  “That is the reason for the suspicion. You were seen by others during this meeting.”

  “Of course I was seen. Why would I take steps to avoid otherwise?”

  “I don’t know, Samuel, but Kitchi’s whereabouts are all the village is concerned with tonight. Jania and Matwau spoke of little else today, and your name was mentioned often.”

  Matwau was Jania’s intended husband. His father was arguably the most influential Indian in the village. Samuel swallowed and opened his eyes, hoping to express his fear at this news.

  “I don’t know anything about Kitchi. I swear it. I talked to him because he wanted to know more about the day Nootau died, that is true, but I had little more to say, other than what I had already told to his parents. About the games we played. And the shark attack.”

  Sokwa dropped her eyes for just a moment, letting Samuel’s words resonate, and then she returned her gaze to him, frowning. “It is not just Kitchi.”

  “What else?”

  “There are many who don’t believe your story of Nootau’s death.” Sokwa lowered her eyes again at the sound of the Algonquin boy’s name, and then placed a hand to her mouth, stifling a sob. “What happened, Samuel? I know the story you have told. But...it doesn’t sound right to me either. It doesn’t fit with the boy I knew.” Two tears fell quickly from Sokwa’s face, and she instinctively lifted a knuckle to her eye to catch them.

  It was Samuel’s turn now to bow his head, which he did slowly, dramatically. He took a deep breath as he stared at the ground and then looked off to the side, gathering his thoughts. He lifted his head and stared Sokwa in the eye. “They are correct to be suspicious of my story about him. As are you.”

  “What?”

  “The story of Nootau’s death. You’re right, Sokwa, it is not how I told it.”

  “I don’t understand, Samuel. Did you...did you kill him?”

  “No! Sokwa, of course not. I loved Nootau. I do love him. I would never have done anything to bring harm to him. Please believe this about me.” Samuel paused, building the effect for his lie. “And...” He stopped in mid-sentence, as if he’d said too much.

  “What is it?”

  Samuel took in a deep breath and opened his eyes wide, shifting them from left to right before letting them fall heavy on Sokwa. He leaned in and whispered, “I believe he is still alive.”

  Sokwa scoffed reflexively. “What? Alive? How is that possible? Where do you think he is?”

  “It is a bit of a story, but one I am willing to tell. I fear your sister will hear us soon, though. And we’ll both be in boiling water.”

  Sokwa turned back again to the wigwam, scoping the scene inside, and then nodded in agreement.

  “I think I can find him, Sokwa, and bring him home. But I can’t do it alone. I need your help.”

  “I...of course. What do you need me to do?” Sokwa’s voice was hopeful, eager to help.

  “I can’t tell you all of it here. Meet me at the southwestern edge of the village just before dawn today. Just beyond the colony church.” Samuel looked to the dark sky, measuring the position of the moon. “That is only a few hours from now. Will you meet me there?”

  There was a look of both terror and wonderment on Sokwa’s face as she shook her head. “No, not at dawn. I cannot meet you until this evening. I have duties for my father that cannot be neglected today. But I will meet you at dusk. Can you wait?”

  It would be far more difficult to make the journey at night. Samuel could only pray the evening would be clear and the moon full and bright. He nodded. “Then you must get sleep now, since you’ll have none tomorrow night. I will tell you more of the story on the way.”

  “On the way to where?”

  “Be there by dusk,” Samuel said, ignoring the question, intent on keeping his directions cryptic and intriguing. “And you can’t speak of this to anyone, Sokwa. It is for the sake of Nootau.”

  Sokwa nodded.

  Samuel gave his own nod in return and then disappeared from the window, far enough away that he was once again masked by the night. He stood ten paces from the wigwam and inhaled the cool aroma of the pines, closing his eyes and smiling as the air filled his lungs. He felt strong tonight, healthy, both in body and thought. He felt a divine focus within him, a clarity that was almost blinding.

  He would make it to the Woman of the Western Shores. He was as sure of that now as he was of his devotion to the new god that rose from the sea only days ago.

  He turned from the wigwam and began his trek into the forest. A hundred paces should be enough, he calculated, before he started on his path to the southwest border of the colony. There he would hide and sleep
and wait patiently for Sokwa.

  She wasn’t the ideal guide and translator—a strong male with a thorough knowledge of the terrain would have been a much more suitable traveling companion—but she was vulnerable, gullible, and she had an eagerness for excitement, all traits that would serve Samuel well.

  And more than anything, it was her tongue he needed most. He prayed the language of the Algonquin was close enough to that of the woman’s that communication would be possible.

  Samuel decided to double the paces from one hundred to two hundred. It was unnecessary, perhaps, but he wanted to ensure the necessary berth around the perimeter, to keep well outside the view of the wigwams and homes of the colonists. He was under suspicion—perhaps even wanted by now—so if he did nothing else, he had to stay as far away from the village center as possible.

  In the morning, when his mother and the rest of the colony discovered Samuel was gone, he would be as good as dead to them all. His mother was now as much his adversary as any native villager. They were all his enemies now. The colony. The Indians. His countrymen back in his homeland who would be making their way to join them in this new world.

  And if Samuel was able to find the secret of the Croatoan, they would all meet the same fate.

  Samuel thought of his father now, and a simmer of hatred began to bubble inside of him. He had left Samuel with little more than a handshake when he departed for England, and even then, Samuel doubted his intentions ever to return.

  But if he did, Samuel had plans for him as well.

  There was much work to do before then, however, and for the next day or two, there was only one person he had to keep in his circle of trust. A native girl. One Samuel prayed could lead him to the Woman of the Western Shores. To the keeper of the origin of his new lord and savior.

  Chapter 19

  “I’m your phone call, Danny? Really?”

  Danny couldn’t help but laugh at the question. “I thought we were in love, Sam. Isn’t that how we left it the other day at the diner?”