CHAPTER THIRTEEN

SEARCH

It was dawn when the tracking began. Ed’s two bloodhounds had gone all over the wagon before dragging him to where the men waited by the rocks. The dogs went frantic when they smelled blood and whatever else was spilled in the grass, and then they took off in a straight line up the hill, pulling Ed behind them in a stumble. Pete had already started up the hill because he had seen the faint gouges of the travois, saying nothing. The dogs raced by him, Ed grinning wildly, but Pete’s mind raced in a different way, and he felt despair at what he was certain they would find at the end of the chase. He had seen a skull crushed before, during a fight in the caves, and whether Tenanken or Hinchai the stuff that splattered out from the blows was all the same. Maki was involved. The townspeople would seek revenge, and the time for bringing out the children and young adults would have to be soon.

Jake moved up beside him, bleary-eyed, a rifle slung over one shoulder. Several of the men had gone back for weapons, and the group was now heavily armed. “Don’t like it at all, Pete,” said Jake. “Normal man can’t carry someone the size of Tom up this hill, even two men. It’s the critters again, Pete. They’ve killed Tom, and carried him away to hide. Must not have known his wagon was there.”

“That’s pretty speculative, Jake.”

Jake spat on the ground, and looked straight into Pete’s eyes. “No it ain’t, and you don’t think so either. All the time you spent with old Savas Parkos in that cabin of his, and you never heard or seen nothin’? Come on, Pete, there’s some weird folks living in these mountains, and you don’t want to admit it.”

“Right now, I just want to find Tom.”

“Yeah—so do I.”

They puffed up the hill, leading the others into the trees, the hounds baying ahead of them. “They’re headed back towards town,” said Jake. “Stupid—or very smart. All I want is another shot at ’em.”

Not likely, thought Pete. With a travois, a Tenanken could run uphill and not be out of breath, and the grass was already straightening where the travois had passed. They were probably a day behind them, and Pete knew where they would likely be now, for above them the trees would soon disappear, giving way to gentle, grassy slopes with outcroppings of granite leading to the canyon which was the home of the Tenanken. What if there was a battle? Could he watch his own band destroyed, especially the children he had worked so closely with? The sense of desperation was there again; he wanted to run ahead and warn them. Run away—run away! The Hinchai are coming to destroy you! Baela, save yourself! Strange, how he thought of the blonde girl at this moment, and then of Bernie, with her long, blonde hair. Would his child be like Baela—or a brute with heavy brow ridges, and no chin. The thought chilled him to the bone.

Up ahead, the hounds were howling long and loud. “Got something,” said Jake, and he unslung his rifle. Several others did the same, and there was the sound of a couple of lever actions working.

“All right, sling ’em up!” shouted Ned. “We don’t need anyone shootin’ themselves in the foot, or blowing away a neighbor. Now sling ‘em!”

The men obeyed reluctantly, for the sound of the hounds’ baying had filled them all with excitement. They charged ahead through the trees until they reached grass again. Above and ahead of them, Ed was playing the two dogs around a rock outcropping, struggling to hold them when they suddenly became hysterical, howling and snarling, charging into each other.

“Zeke—Mordicai—what the hell’s got into you! Stop it. Stop it, now.” Ed jerked back hard on the two leashes, trying to separate the animals. “Found somethin’, boys. Dogs’re goin’ nuts!”

Everyone ran up the slope, stumbling over small rocks freshly eroded from the soil, and as they drew near it was only Pete who could smell the fresh stench of death. As the men pressed in close around the frantic dogs, Pete detached himself from them, following a new scent, walking off to the right and further up the hill where there was another rock outcropping. There he could smell new blood—fur—hides—the Tenanken sweat frozen in death. His mind raced. Before him was a pile of rocks most carefully placed to hide a Tenanken secret, oriented with the sun path so a spirit could soar. At dawn. Had it forgotten anything? Would it return? Pete stepped up to the rocks, unzipped his pants, and warm water splattered over the rough granite. Who lay beneath his stream?

Ned called up the hill. “Jesus Christ, Pete, this is no time to take a piss. I think we’ve found Tom!”

“Coming!” yelled Pete. He zipped up his pants and trudged down the hill to join the others. The dogs were still growling, and snapping at each other, but then Ed lashed out with a boot at both of them until they separated and cowed. He gave one leash to Lyle, and they pulled the dogs away from the pile of rocks, keeping them apart while the rest of the men went to work.

“I don’t think I’m gonna like this,” said Ned. He removed a rock from the pile, another, then another, Pete joining in, a couple more rocks as the first, putrid odors reached their nostrils. Grim faces looked on as they slowly, carefully uncovered the mutilated body of Tom Henley, sheriff of Crosley, and friend of everyone.

“Aw, Tom,” said Ned softly, tears coming to his eyes.

“God damn, what did they do to his head?” asked Jake, turning to look at Pete, but the big man was standing there with his eyes closed tightly, as if what was in front of him might go away if he didn’t open them. Tom was there, all right, crammed into a shallow grave on his side, the destroyed half of his head gaping open to the sky, cavity glistening grey and red, and attracting flies buzzing angrily over possession of a morsel here and there. The left front of his shirt was soaked in blood now dried to a black crust, but his badge was untouched, and the wedding band he still wore seven years after Emma’s death was in place. His pistol belt was gone.

“He’s been shot, too—right up there in the chest,” said Jake, pointing.

“Yeah, but I’ll bet money it’s the head wound that killed him. Jeezus, why am I still looking at this?” Ned turned away, and Pete was there, his eyes downcast, hands stuffed deep into his pockets. Ned took a couple of steps, and put a hand heavily on Pete’s shoulder, feeling it tremble. “He was a good man.”

“Nobody left,” said Pete, his voice far away and quivery. “No wife, no kids, no relatives—dyin’ alone—he was a better man than that. He deserved better’n that, Ned.”

“Yeah,” said Ned, and they leaned on each other for a moment.

“Well, what are we gonna do about it? Sit around and mope, or go out and find the murdering bastards?” Jake’s voice was angry, and there were supportive mutterings from the group. “This is it, Ned. We’ve got to take some action, and I mean clean out these hills once and for all. They’ve got to be around here close, and that means practically in town. Hell, if you walk up there a few yards you can look right down the canyon and see Pete’s place. They may be livin’ at your back door, Pete! I say we fan out and scour this whole area clear down to the valley, and on the other side. They’ve gotta have a shelter, dugout or cave somewhere, otherwise how’d they get through the winter here? Let’s do it now, Ned! Now, before they get away for good.”

“Hold on, now; first thing we have to do is get Tom out of here, and back to town.”

“Only need one man for that,” said Ed. “I’ve gotta get the dogs to home anyway, and I can be back here in a couple of hours with a horse. Dogs need calmin’ down before we go on.

“You’ll need help loadin’ and unloadin’.”

“I’ll stay here and help,” said Lyle. “The rest of you go on.”

Ed started to move, but then the dogs were suddenly wild again, baying, and clawing at the ground, pulling him up the hill. “Aw, shit, I’ve got to get these guys home; they’re just too riled up.” He jerked back on the leash as the animals dragged him to another pile of rocks, scrabbling frantically against it.

Ned spat on the ground. “Have fun, Ed. Pete just took a giant piss on those rocks.”

“I saw, I saw—oh, come on!” Ed jerked hard, and one of the dogs yelped in pain. He dragged them both whimpering down the hill. “Sometimes male dogs can get really disgusting,” he growled. “Be back in a couple of hours.” After a few steps, the dogs seemed to calm down, and trotted obediently ahead of him.

“Okay, we’ll split up into two groups, and follow both rims of the canyon down to Pete’s place. We can fan out in a line when we get down there. You got any horses, Pete?”

“Sorry, Ned. Stock won’t arrive for another week or so.”

“So we’ll do it on foot. Any objections?”

There weren’t any. Rifles were unslung, levers clacking as cartridges were chambered. Lyle offered his rifle to Pete. “Here, I won’t need this on the way back.”

“No thanks. I meet up with one of those guys I only need my hands, and besides, the law oughta be handling this.”

“You got it wrong, Pete. With Tom gone, I’m the law, as mayor of this town,” said Ned, “and I’m making this a legal, official search with all of you as deputies. The guys we’re after are armed, and they’re murderers. Now take the rifle, Pete.”

“Yeah, Pete,” said someone. “You can use your hands after you shoot ’em.”

Pete took the rifle, and pulling out the sling to its maximum length, he draped it across his huge back like a kid’s toy.

They broke up into two groups, Pete going with Ned and four others along the east side of the canyon, the rest searching thick stands of trees along the west side. As they stepped up to the edge of the canyon headwall, Pete turned inwards, directing his mind like a great bird to shriek warning, and suddenly there came to him a vision of just such a bird soaring into blue sky; he looked up to see it was not a vision, but real. An eagle was circling the canyon far above them, then falling like a released stone to land on a projection on the shear side of a cliff where Pete’s experienced eyes caught movement. Baela was there—watching them. Projecting as hard as he could, he warned her to get inside or otherwise hide herself. In response he felt nothing, but then the eagle took off again, flying on a line straight towards them, giant wings pumping air, talons up but head down, turning to watch them warily as it passed close overhead. All the men twisted and turned to follow the flight of the bird, for it was not common to see an eagle so close as this, an awesome sight which to a man was the symbol of the very freedom each sought in the mountains. Even Pete was captivated by the sight for an instant, but he turned his head in time to see what appeared at a distance as a bush moving to join another along the shear rock face of the canyon. She was inside.

“That sure is a purty sight,” said Jake. “I remember one time a smart-ass kid from Reno came up here and shot one of those. His mommy gave him a rifle, but never taught him nuthin’. Whatever, he rode home the same day with a busted face and a broken rifle. Can’t recall who did that to him, but whoever killed Tom is gonna get a lot worse.”

“No shootin’ unless I give the order,” said Ned. “And that’s only in self-defense. Everyone clear on that?”

There were a few assenting grumbles, but for the most part the men were stoically silent, and Pete knew that anything suddenly moving on this day would stand a good chance of dying.

The two groups went off in opposite directions, but soon were on parallel courses along the canyon rims, the men occasionally shouting to each other. So preoccupied was Pete with Baela’s safety and the progress of the men who even now approached the thick, stone dome of the Tenanken caverns that he didn’t feel the wave of surprise and fear coming from Han.

Just returning from a hunt, Han had nearly walked into the entire Hinchai party before scuttling to his rocky cairn on the hill overlooking the grisly death scene they had just uncovered. He slammed the slab door shut on the apparently random pile of rocks built like a beaver lodge, and sat shivering in the darkness until nightfall.

“See anything?”

“Nothing. Not even a dog turd. This brush is so thick in here you can’t see your feet. Hey, do you guys smell wood smoke?”

“No!”

“Keep smellin’ it over here. Comes and goes.”

“Well, look for an old campfire, or somethin’“

“Look at that mess in the canyon. Goddamned rattlesnake den! Oughta pour kerosene in there, and burn it out.”

“There’s the wood smoke again! It’s getting strong! Way the wind swirls around here, can’t tell where it’s comin’ from.”

Pete felt his heart skip a beat. The men on the opposite side of the canyon were moving just below the rotten, granite outcropping providing the lacy network of fine fumaroles from the main cavern ceiling to the outside air. Someone is still burning a fire in there! But when he looked down the canyon towards his ranch house, and saw white smoke pouring out of the chimney, the explanation seemed so perfect he smiled naturally. “Oh hell, Ned, they’re smellin’ wood smoke from my fireplace. Look down there.”

Ned looked. “Sure enough. Smoke’s blowin’ up here from Pete’s place! See anything else?”

“Naw!”

“Nothin’ over here, either!” They were looking directly at the entrance to the caverns, but all they saw was a thick, scraggly bush growing out of solid rock. Ned kept walking, Pete nearly running into his back in eagerness to keep them all moving. Is anyone watching us, now?

And you, Pete-Pegre. Does clothing make you Hinchai? If someone runs from the cave, will you shoot them down like a lesser animal and enhance your status in town, or will you defend those who gave you life, and crush a Hinchai skull?

The thoughts were gone in an instant, leaving his face flushed and sweaty, but nobody noticed because they were now cursing their way through thick underbrush, and black clouds of biting flies swarming about their heads to attack bare necks and earlobes.

They veered away from the canyon to get clear of the brush, and found themselves on a short, steep ridge leading to the valley floor. They looked at Pete’s ranch, and thought about cold water or warm beer. A half-hour later that’s what they got, plus thick slabs of fresh-baked bread, when they dragged themselves up to the front porch where Bernie was standing, big hands on big hips, a smile on her face as always. Pete was so glad to see her he nearly crushed her in an embrace.

They rested an hour, then crossed the valley and searched the forests for two miles around, finding nothing, returning frustrated, discouraged and angry. The search went on for three more days, and at the time, of course, there was no way any of them could have predicted how, when, or where it would end. Such ignorance allowed the men to sleep well that night, except for Pete, who tossed and turned, subconscious mind struggling to obtain identity. Hinchai? Or Tenanken? What are you?

* * * * * * *

From the comfortable saddle in the bough of her hidey-tree she had heard their faint shouts all morning while she watched Han wander through the woods in search of something to supplement his dried-meat diet. She had made herself a yoke of tree branches which fitted to her shoulders so that, when she knelt, Baela became a small bush, or when standing she could turn and blend in totally with a shrub or small tree. The camouflage was imperfect, she knew, but so was Han’s vision and mind, and the Hinchai were comically inept at seeing anything in the forest.

She’d been surprised the first morning she saw Han, for the rumor was he’d left the band forever to make a new home far beyond the hills, yet here he was, a few minutes walk from the caverns. So Maki had lied about this also. Once again, she was reminded to distrust the young Tenanken warrior who seemed destined to become the Keeper of The Memories for no good reason she could see except that his father was Anka, by far the wisest Tenanken she’d ever known. But Han was Maki’s watchdog, and what was he waiting for? Each morning he appeared at the hilltop across the canyon, still draped in sleeping skins. During the day he scrounged for eating plants, and once took some small animal with his sling. In the evenings he disappeared over the hill again, not to be seen until the following morning.

Today was different. The voices came from the plateau at the end of the canyon, and as Han returned from his hunt Baela watched him stop and cock his head to one side, listening, then stalking. He passed from her view, and suddenly was there again, hurrying this time, backtracking, scrambling up and over the top of the hill, as if being chased. She was still watching the hilltop when other figures appeared in her peripheral vision: clothed Hinchai with pointing weapons, angry faces, shouting to others on her side of the canyon. Run! Hide anywhere!

The thought rocked her in the tree, and she jumped up like a bird taking flight, scrambling to the ground with the tree between herself and the Hinchai on the far side of the canyon. She bent over double, and a small bush scuttled across the grass to canyon’s edge, lodging in a crack by the nest of the great bird of prey who even now circled her young, far above, casting a wary eye on those below. The bird dropped towards her, and she flinched backwards from the nest. Great danger, but it is there—there, with the Hinchai and their weapons. I’ll be seen here. The bird’s talons touched the nest, and pushed off again, the bird shrieking, flying directly towards the Hinchai. Now! They watch the bird!

Baela scrambled down the rock face, bare feet searching for tiny ledges and rough flakes, tiny hands jamming into cracks until she felt the wide shelf beneath her, and was nearly running along it, bent double, waiting for a shout or an explosion when they saw her. But once again, the Hinchai could not see; she reached the cave entrance, and pushed herself in among the tangle of branches and brush until a strong hand gripped her arm, pulling her roughly inside, and she found herself staring into Maki’s amber eyes at close range.

“Always outside and on the watch, aren’t you?”

“I was playing, and they surprised me.”

“Who surprised you?”

“Hinchai. Two groups. One’s on the other side of the canyon, and another is right above us.”

Maki pushed her away from him. “Run and tell the others to put out their fires. There must be no smoke. Hurry!”

Baela leaped like a startled deer, racing down the tunnel to the main cavern and along the spiral of shelves past surprised females preparing to cook a meal, first coals glowing. “Cover your fires! Hinchai are right above us! They have weapons!”

There was a startled cry, and fires were stirred, coals dumped into rock containers and covered, and all looked up at smoke from the making of the fires, still hanging near the ceiling of the great room before diffusing out through the rocks above, and into the Hinchai world.

As Baela completed her circuit of the room in eerie silence, she felt and smelled their fear of the Hinchai, and suddenly it seemed absurd. Here we are, ready to go out and live with the Hinchai, and we sit here cowering in fear of them, afraid they’ll smell our fires and come in here to kill us. Still, it was an adventure, and Baela loved the drama of it all. She raced from the cavern and back along the tunnel to where Maki still sat on his haunches, peering out through the branches covering the entrance. When he first looked at her, she saw death in his eyes, had a vision of dead and dying Tenanken everywhere in her head, but then he seemed to soften, and beckoned to her. She knelt beside him, and he parted the branches for her to see outside.

“See your so-called friend and teacher,” Maki whispered softly.

She looked, and saw Hinchai males, with weapons, and walking with them was Pegre, his own weapon slung across his body.

“He pretends loyalty to us, but out there he is with his own kind. He has become Hinchai, and you would be wise not to listen to anything he says, Baela. He draws us out to live as slaves with the Hinchai, and failing to do that he will kill us all if we oppose him. How can you let this happen to you and your parents?”

Baela looked at him wide-eyed, a child filled with wonder yet somehow not a child, and why was it he could not penetrate her mind at this moment?

Then, We don’t have freedom living in caves. Better to be a slave in sunlight. Why do you hate and fear him so?

“It will not be this way much longer, Baela, you’ll see. We’ll make our own place outside, but it will not be under Hinchai domination. My father is old, weak and misled. He’ll see, too, but Pegre is another matter, and when the time comes I will have to deal with him personally!”

Maki looked at Baela for approval, forgetting her heritage for the moment, wanting to see a smile or a nod of the head to affirm he was right. Instead he saw large eyes, questioning, but not comprehending. Too young, yet again he was attracted to her there in the gloom at a time when the Hinchai were uncomfortably close.

Maki pondered this, distracted, while Baela sat before him, quietly looking into his eyes, and considering the different methods she might use to permanently disable his pointing weapons.