Cold River Resurrection (16 page)

C
hapter
36

Sidwalter

“What’s that, on the wall above the television?” Jennifer sat on the couch with Laurel and pointed.

“It’s a
waxwintash
, silly. Everyone knows that,” Laurel said, laughing. “It’s a basket worn around the waist for carrying berries.”

Jennifer laughed with her and pointed at a drum in the corner. “Okay, smarty, what is the drum called?”

“
Kiwkiwlaas
,” Laurel said, “and . . .’

“Yes I know,
everyone
knows that.”  As Jennifer hugged Laurel she looked out at the deck. Smokey was sitting at the table, alone with a cup of coffee. She nudged Laurel.

“Hey, kiddo, I’m go
ing to talk with your dad for a minute. ‘Kay?”

Laurel jumped up and pulled on Jennifer’s hands. “Great idea Jennifer, let’s go.”

“Just me this time, you come out later.”

Laurel nodded, all knowing, and ran to play with her cousins. Jennifer stood in front of the sliding door to the deck and watched Smokey, thinking about the life he and his daughter had here. A family, and she was envious for the first time in her life. She thought she had a family with her cat and her friends in Portland, but this was so much more. She slid the door open and walked out on the deck. Smokey patted the bench beside him without turning around.

“How’d you know it was me?” Jennifer asked as she sat down.

Smokey smiled and sipped his coffee, looking out at the forest. “I’ve lived here for a few years, and do you think Laurel would be this quiet?”

“No, I guess not.” Jennifer was quiet while Smokey drank his coffee. When he started talking, she knew better than to say anything. She wasn’t always a good listener, but now she had to be or he might not talk about himself again. He stared at the trees and at first he talked so softly she had to strain to hear. She came to realize that he was talking as much for his benefit as for hers, maybe mostly for his benefit.

“Ten years ago I was a guest lecturer in a college class, a career day, down in Bend at the community college. I wore my Ranger uniform, and in fact, I had just graduated from Ranger school at Fort Benning, Georgia. Amelia was in the class, and of course I knew her from the rez. I knew her family, her parents. The last time I remember seeing her she was in middle school, a gangly kid. Now here was this young woman, and for the first time I really saw her as a woman.” He smiled and glanced at Jennifer. She nodded, thinking,
keep going, keep going.

“Now she was sitting in the front row, and I thought
wow
, and I mean
Wow
. She was so damned beautiful, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She asked intelligent questions, was beautiful, did I tell you she was beautiful? And was completely different from my perception of her on the reservation. I had heard that she was a party girl in high school, but I had still thought of her as a kid.

“I was twenty-eight, Amelia was eighteen. After the lecture
she asked if she could buy a soldier lunch. We went to the cafeteria – I couldn’t take my eyes off of her – the way she moved, the animated way she talked. We went to a movie that night, left after thirty minutes and just drove the sixty miles back to the reservation and talked. We talked most of the night.

“Something happened to both of us that night, and we became inseparable. When I wasn’t working and she wasn’t in school, we were together. We got married three months later. Laurel was born the next year.”

Jennifer watched, not wanting to move as Smokey sat holding his cup, smiling at his coffee.
He’s thinking of the good times. As it should be, Jen.

“I think she did okay for awhile during my first stint in Afghanistan. When I went back for the second tour, she really lost it. I had heard that she was partying with her partners, drinking heavily and getting into meth, leaving Laurel with my mother for days at a time, and then . . .” He put his hand over his eyes and lowered his head. Jennifer didn’t know what to say, and thought she should touch him.

Don’t do anything, Jen.

Smokey leaned on his hands and shook his head. “I don’t know . . . I don’t know why I’m telling you this, I just-.” His voice was husky, soft.

“Shhhh, it’s okay,” Jennifer whispered. She wanted to touch him but didn’t know if she should. “It’s okay – I want to hear you, after all, you saved my life.”

Smokey sat there for several minutes, and Jennifer thought she had said too much, and then he started to speak again, this time stronger, different.

“By my third tour, she was already dead. I deserted them, both of them, thought it was for a noble cause, but I deserted them just the same.” Smokey looked up and turned to Jennifer. “I want you to know this because I see the way Laurel looks at you, the longing in her face for everything to be okay.”

“I don’t know what to say Smokey, but she’s a great kid, and you haven’t deserted her. You see the longing in her eyes when she looks at me, I see her when she looks at you. She worships you, and from what I’ve seen, you’re worth it.”

“I just don’t want to desert her again,” he said.

“You won’t, Smokey.”

When Jennifer thought about it later, she wondered why she had said such a thing. He deserted them both, in a way she couldn’t foresee.

And it just wasn’t fair.

C
hapter
37

Sunriver Resort

“I want the woman alive, and the head of the Indian lieutenant,” Enrico Alvarez told the assembled men. He turned toward Roberto. “Do we know where this
casa
is?”

Roberto nodded and pointed at a large man with a shaved head, and prison tattoos on his arms and neck. “This is Armando, from the reservation. He knows the house. His men have  been watching it. The woman and Indian
lieutenant are there. We will take them in the night.”

“
Por favor, Patron.
What do we do with the others, the old woman and children?”

“
Todos ellos asesinato
(kill them all).”

Enrico Alvarez looked over the dozen men, the assembled weapons, and nodded.

The woman and the head of the Indian. He would have the Indian’s head on YouTube by morning.

C
hapter
38

Parker Creek

The late afternoon sun gave Mt. Jefferson a shining that Amy thought magical; the glaciers on the mountain glowed orange and red. The colors changed and flowed on the ice. The glaciers appeared to move as if they were living, breathing beings. She sat on a log, waiting as Stan fussed with his equipment. The waters of Parker Creek rushed by far below, twinkling through the trees.

“Amy, look at this.” Stan rose from his packs
. He held a small object in his hand.

He loves his gadgets, Amy thought, and she suddenly forgave him for dragging her way the hell up here, away from th
e comforts of her place in Albany. She looked again at Mt. Jefferson and thought the view might be worth the price of hiking without a shower. Stan was, like most men she had encountered, a large boy, adventuresome, excitable, and at times, helpless. She should be happy with that. His obsession with Bigfoot was the one thing that she would change if she could. She turned back to examine the piece of equipment he held in his hand. It was about the size of a small flashlight, a black plastic tube.

Amy turned it over in her hand and examined the object. She knew that Stan wanted her to guess what it was. There was a dark lens on one end, so it wasn’t a flashlight, she reasoned.

“A laser pointer?” she said, wanting to get started with the guessing game. She didn’t think that was what she was holding, but it could be close.

“Pretty good guess,” Stan said. He smirked.

“A laser pointer flashlight?” Amy said. She handed it back to him. She stood up and stretched. She wanted to camp for the night. Enough of this game.

“It’s used for tracking,” Stan said.

“Tracking what?” Amy asked, losing interest.

“Blood.” Stan handed it back to her. Amy held it, shook it, looked at the object again.

“Whose blood?”

“Any blood,” Stan said. “It’s an infrared blood tracker. When you shine this on blood at night, it glows green. You can track a wounded animal this way, lead you right to them. It’s a Carnivore TRAX Blood Tracking Light. I can mount this on a helmet for hands
-free use.”

“Great,” Amy said. “I’m glad we have it.” She tried to sound sincere, so Stan wouldn’t get his feelings hurt and then she would have to deal with
that
. She was tired. And hungry again. She looked around. She could camp anywhere.

“Stan.”

“Huh?” He picked up his gear.

“Can we camp now? I’m tired.”

“How about an hour,” he said. Amy thought he sounded a little put off, but, hey, he was the one who wanted her to go on this rodeo.

“One hour.”

“Yep. One hour.” He pointed to the north, to an area below White- water Glacier. “See that area there, that knoll? One hour. That’s where we should camp tonight.”

“It’s a deal,” Amy said, and started off, thinking that it would take them more than an hour to get there. She heard the helicopter before he did.

Amy walked on the animal trail behind Stan. When they had started off, she could see the knoll where he said they would be spending the night, but now it was lost in the trees. They were winding their way around a side hill, using animal trails and avoiding downed trees as much as they could. Amy looked up and didn’t think that they were any closer to their destination. She looked around Stan. There was a clearing ahead, a break in the trees.

The sound came to her and she knew at once what it was. She had lived near Good Samaritan Hospital in Portland for a time, and heard Air Life flights day and night, until they became a part of the background noise. But she always was conscious at some level of the life flights. The flutter of the rotors. She stopped.

“Stan.” He kept walking, a soldier in their army of two. One foot in front of the other.

“Stan.” Amy called louder
. She pointed up.

“Helicopter.”

Stan looked up and pointed. Down to his right. The sound was getting closer. She saw the helicopter then, flying up the mountain, on a course that would take it directly over them.

“Here
!” Stan yelled, jumping forward toward a large Ponderosa Pine tree. He bent down under the branches and motioned for Amy.

Amy trudged over and crouched beside Stan under the branches of the tree.

“They won’t see us here,” Stan said.

Amy wondered
just how smart they were for trespassing on the reservation, looking for a creature that most people didn’t believe existed. She suddenly wanted to be home, out of the wilderness and back on her block with her friends, her car, her job. She dropped her pack and watched as the helicopter came toward them.

The craft was green, a military Blackhawk. That much she knew from watching the movie Blackhawk Down, and from watching all of the news footage from Iraq and Afghanistan. But what if they landed and d
id happen to see them? She didn’t want to know what would happen then.

“Stan.”

“What?” He didn’t look at her, but she could see his eyes were bright. He was excited, and that was when she started to get mad.

“Stan,” she yelled, fear rising with her anger. “Stan, this is bullshit, we’re gonna get in so much trouble. Let’s go back when they leave.” But she knew he wouldn’t, and she would stay with him, like the script of a grade C horror movie, she was going to stay with him to the scary end. She wasn’t going to get lost like that other woman.

The flutter of the rotors grew louder, the turbine whine adding to the noise.              

It’s coming right for us, Amy thought.
How do they know where we are?

She knew the thought was irrational, but she had it just the same. They
were
here illegally, and she didn’t know what the Indians would do if they were caught, but it wouldn’t be pleasant.    

It’s slowing down.

“Stan!” Amy yelled and tugged at his sleeve. “Stan, it’s slowing down.”

He pulled his arm away and stared.

The Blackhawk slowed and crawled slowly over the trees. The big machine settled into a hover just off the ground.  Amy could see the helmeted pilots, their green helmets and dark visors giving them an unearthly look.

The helicopter dropped out of sight behind a line of trees, and Amy could tell that it had landed when the turbine shut down. She had a sudden and crazy thought to walk up to the crew, say she was lost, and get a ride home. But that wouldn’t be fair to Stan, and she didn’t feel that they were in any great danger,
except for getting thrown into an Indian jail for trespassing
. Stan pulled items from his pack and came up with a pair of binoculars. He walked slowly toward the helicopter.

“Are you crazy?” Amy grabbed his arm, her whisper fierce and harsh, louder than she wanted.
Why am I whispering?

“We need to see what they are doing,” Stan said mildly. “Let’s leave the packs here, take a look, and then come back here for
a snack.”

It made sense, but she didn’t want to go. Like a horse afraid of losing the herd, Amy followed, more afraid of being alone and lost than following Stan in another one of his adventures.

They crawled the last twenty feet, settling at the base of a large tree. Stan peeked around and brought the binoculars up and looked for what seemed to Amy to be a long time. She realized as they got closer that the engine had not shut down completely, but was running at an idle. She listened to the subdued whine of the turbine, the whisper of the rotors.

What the hell are we doing here?

Stan handed Amy the binoculars. She slid under the branches and brought the binoculars up. The image of the helicopter and men came into view. Her first thought was that they were too close. There were two men in suits outside the helicopter. She hadn’t seen them in the fly over, but they were in charge, directing the crew members with them on the ground.

Ohmigod.  It looks like they are loading a body.

A body?

She ran her tongue over her lips, her mouth suddenly dry, and she watched as two crew members in their olive drab one
-piece flight suits and matching helmets clumsily carried a body. One of the crew held the body at the knees, the lower legs bouncing as he walked.

She hit the zoom on the binoculars and looked on as they placed it on top of a body bag.

The body has dress shoes? That doesn’t make sense.

Where’s the rest . . . fuck me. Oh, fuck me. The head is gone. Missing. Maybe . . .

Her hands started shaking and she lost the image, her fingers locked and bloodless.

Gotta go. Gotta get out of here. Now.

Amy tried to steady her hands and watched in horror as the crew loaded the body bag. She put her head down on her arm. The turbine went from a whine to a scream, the rotors thrumming, and the helicopter lifted off. Amy felt this, heard this, but didn’t see it. She didn’t need to. She just wanted out of here. She crawled back to Stan.

I want to go home.

Amy sat on her pack under the branches of a tree and watched as Stan walked to the helicopter landing. He walked cautiously, bent over as an old man might walk, and looked at the ground. She waited to run in a split second if another body with no head should suddenly appear.

Stan stopped, and Amy shook her head. Might as well join him. I’ve already decided I’m not going to be like that other girl, get lost alone. As she walked she hoped that there wasn’t anything gross to see. The sun was getting lower, crouching above the cleft between Mt. Jefferson and Mt. Washington.

Be dark before we know it. 

And Amy had another thought.
I don’t want to be here.
She got to the spot where the helicopter had landed. Stan walked around the area where the body had been found. He turned and smiled to her and gave her a thumbs up. Jesus. He was enjoying himself, in his element, excited.

“Nothing here,” he called, and waved.

Bullshit, Amy thought. I’m not going over there. This is close enough. She folded her arms across her chest, and waited. Eventually he would come over.

“Stan.”

He looked up and moved slowly toward her, as if he were in trouble.

“Stan, can we go now?”

“Sure, nothing here, just wanted to be sure.” He looked around and down the slope, and pointed. “We’ll move off a ways, and set up camp.” He walked down the slope, and Amy followed.

“Yeah,” Amy said. “A long ways.”  She knew that they couldn’t get off the reservation tonight, but it wouldn’t hurt her feelings if they left for good tomorrow.

“Stan.” He stopped and turned around.

“Stan, what
was
that, what did we just see?”

“A body, looked like, someone died here, got dumped here, not our concern.”

“I
know
it was a body, but what was
that
, what did we get into?” When he didn’t answer Amy stood with her hands on her hips and glared at him. “I’ll tell what we didn’t see, Stan!” she yelled. “What we didn’t see were any Indians, you know, Native Americans. Those people were federal government people. And they knew there was a body here.”

“Well, -.” Stan said.

“Well what?” Amy yelled.

“Well, let’s hike for a bit, get away from this place.”

“Fine!”

He turned and started down the slope. Amy followed him in the dying light for the next thirty minutes, heading deeper into the wilderness of the reservation. A continuous thread ran through Amy’s head:
Why am I here?
And
I’m gonna kill him.

When they finally set up camp, it wasn’t far enough from where they saw the body to suit Amy, but it was getting dark, and it would just have to do.

In their small tent, Stan busied himself with his gadgets, happily back on the trail of Bigfoot. He assembled a small air rifle and placed a dart in the chamber.

“If I can get this dart in one, it plants a small transmitter under the skin, a little bigger than a grain of rice.”

He opened up his mini laptop and turned it on. A map of the area appeared. “See this dot, here?” He pointed to the screen. “That’s where we are, the software will track the dart for years, much like satellite GPS, only in the reverse. We can track Bigfoot no matter what, map out its route for a year, write a book about it, become famous.

“And rich.”

If the creature existed, Amy thought, it might just work.

Amy awoke in the tent to full dark, before moonrise. She lay in her sleeping bag and listened. A noise. Something crashed far off, and then it was quiet. She was almost asleep when she heard something . . .

Walking?

Outside the tent.

She reached over and felt Stan next to her.

She thought she would never be so scared ever again in her life.

She was wrong.