Mark Lukens: Ancient Enemy

If the truck was going to start …

You know it will start this time, her mind whispered.

She managed to finally slide the key into the ignition. She twisted the key. The motor turned, it made a tired and sputtering sound. She twisted the key again; the motor cranked and cranked. Over the sound of the engine trying to fire into life, Stella could hear something outside, like the wind itself had come alive – the Dark Wind, that’s what Jim Whitefeather had called it. Jim Whitefeather – the first one taken.

She couldn’t think about Jim Whitefeather right now.

“Come on, damn it!” Stella screamed at her Suburban just as something slammed into the side of the truck, rocking it so hard that Stella was afraid it was going to tip over. David flew backwards and fell into the passenger door. He hit his head on the passenger window, but not hard enough to break the glass. Stella almost lost the grip on the keys, but she held onto the steering wheel and kept twisting the key.

The truck started! The powerful engine roared to life.

Stella slammed the shifter into drive. She stomped on the gas pedal. The Suburban’s back tires spun in the sand and shot up a rooster tail of dirt into the night air, but the tires caught traction and the truck climbed the small, rocky incline with ease and drove up onto the dirt trail that led out of this place.

Stella muscled the steering wheel, her foot still hammered down on the gas pedal, the rear tires still spinning in the dirt – the rear end of the Suburban fishtailed, losing control. She had to be careful; she couldn’t wreck the truck and leave them stranded here. With all of her will, she pulled her foot off of the gas pedal, fighting the natural urge to panic. She turned the wheel back the other way to correct their spin away from the decline back down into the parked vehicles.

She stomped the gas pedal again, and this time she guided the truck back away from the hill that they had just climbed. The truck sped up right away, the powerful engine a screaming fury again. The headlights knifed into the darkness as she navigated the twists and turns of the canyon road.

Stella let out a long breath that plumed in front of her face in the freezing air. She could breathe again – it felt like she’d been holding her breath for hours. Her muscles began to relax, her fingers loosened on the steering wheel a little.

They were safe for now.

Stella looked at David. He rubbed the back of his head, his long black hair rumpled.

“Are you okay?” she asked him.

David looked at her and nodded; his dark eyes were glassy in the night, his small breaths clouded up in front of his face.

“You’re not bleeding, are you?”

David shook his head no.

Stella glanced at the rearview mirror, the dirt road barely visible behind them in the red glow of the tail lights. But someone stood there in the middle of the road – a man watching them leave. She was sure of it.

She looked back at David. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” she promised him.

David just stared at her. He didn’t seem so sure.

CHAPTER TWO

Cody’s Pass, Colorado

Stella had driven through the night from New Mexico up into Colorado. At four thirty in the morning they reached the outskirts of the small town of Cody’s Pass. Stella was bone weary, her eyes so tired it felt like she had sand in them. She saw a cheap motel at the side of the road. The vacancy sign blinked in the night.

She glanced over at David. He was still sleeping, curled up against the passenger door with his seatbelt over him. The heat was on low and the truck was warm and comfortable. She looked back at the road and pulled into the parking lot of the motel. She didn’t plan on getting a room – she wanted to keep on the move. But if she could just park for an hour or two, get a little sleep.

She parked in the back of the motel, far away from other vehicles. She shut off the truck and made sure all of the doors were locked. It was still warm inside, but she figured that the creeping cold from outside would wake her up in an hour or so. She just needed to close her eyes for a moment.

Stella glanced once more at David to make sure he was still asleep, and then she closed her eyes. And she instantly slipped into dreams. Not really dreams – fragments of memories. She remembered the dig site. They had found an undiscovered Anasazi site and set up the trailers not too far away from the mouth of the small cave. Jake was excited. Stella was excited. They were finding some great artifacts, never before discovered clues to the mysteries of the Anasazi. But then Stella found David near the mouth of the cave one day. He was bloody and barely conscious. He wouldn’t talk, like he was in shock. She carried him back to the trailer. She cleaned him up and asked him questions. But he wouldn’t answer her, wouldn’t talk at all. Jake wanted to call the police, but they were on Navajo land, with Navajo permission of course. Jim Whitefeather said he would drive to the nearest town thirty miles away and contact the tribal police. But there was something about Jim Whitefeather, something about the way he stared at David, like he was remembering an ancient story from his culture. And there was something in Jim’s eyes that Stella had never seen before – fear.

And that was the day everything started happening …

Stella snapped awake, her breath caught in her throat. She looked around, forgetting for a few seconds where she was.

In my truck, her mind whispered. Parked in a … her tired mind thought for a moment, sluggish from sleep … parked in a motel parking lot.

It was cold. Stella looked at David. He was awake and staring at her with his large dark eyes.

It was still dark, but the eastern sky was beginning to lighten up with the rising sun. The sun would bring light but not much warmth to the frozen landscape. Stella turned the key and the truck fired right up. The heater blasted cold air at first, but then began to warm up.

Stella had only slept for about an hour and a half, and at first she felt worse, but she knew she would feel better soon. Even an hour and a half of sleep would help. Her mind drifted back to her dream, to Jim Whitefeather, to what happened to him. But she pushed that horror away.

She looked at David. “How long have you been awake?”

He just stared at her.

“You hungry?” she asked him.

He nodded, but still wouldn’t say a word. He had spoken only a few words since that day she’d found him. She had at least got him to tell her his name.

Stella shifted into reverse and backed out of the parking space. She pulled out onto the street and drove half a mile and saw a gas station. “We need some gas,” she said, but didn’t expect David to respond.

She pulled her Suburban into the gas station and parked next to one of the gas pumps. She cut the engine and stared out the windshield for a moment. “I need some coffee,” she whispered. “What do you want to drink?” she asked David.

David stared at Stella, but he said nothing.

“I wish you would talk to me.”

Still no answer from David.

“I know you’ve seen some … some really bad things. We both have. But you need …” She let her words trail off. Maybe she should try a different approach. “Is there someone I can call for you? Your parents? A relative?”

David stared at her, but still wouldn’t respond. He looked out the passenger window.

Stella sighed and grabbed her purse. She grabbed some money; she had enough to make it through Colorado and up to her aunt’s house. They’d be safe there for a little while, she hoped. They would at least get there, and then she would figure out what to do with David.

She grabbed her keys from the ignition, and flashed a smile David’s way. “Come on inside with me, I’ll get you a soda or something, whatever you want.”