Monday, March 23, 2009

Chapter 13 (part 2)

Evan looked at the book, at the pages that Max was studying. All along the portion of Utah Max seemed interested in, several of those red X marks had been drawn.
Max looked to the floor and Evan realized that the man was on the verge of either breaking into a fit of rage or succumbing to tears. Not wanting to witness either one, Evan grabbed him lightly by the shoulder.

“Let’s get out of here, okay?”

Max nodded. He handed Evan the book and then went to the wall and tore down the map where Shinoe had been circled. He folded this map, tucked it under his arm and stormed out of the room.

“Come on,” he said, not bothering to look back.

Evan followed him, but was suddenly not so sure if he wanted to be with Max. There were several reasons for this hesitancy. First and foremost, Max was a policeman and this made Evan uneasy enough as it was. But the fact that he was apparently a policeman that killed people at will and knew quite a bit about this cult only made Evan’s unease grow.

But if he didn’t go with Max, his only other option was to be left alone in the desert with the cult and their bus still out there somewhere. That being the case, Evan’s decision was an easy one.

In their haste to escape, Lott’s people had piled into one of the vans and tore away from their ramshackle complex. They had left the second van out front and, much to Max’s delight, the keys were still in the ignition. Max tossed the maps into the back of the van and cranked the engine to life. Evan climbed into the passenger seat, looking furtively around the desert for any signs of the other van or the bus.

“I don’t get it,” Evan said.

“What’s that?” Max asked.

“You said you shot four and that a few of them got away in the other van. But when I was on the bus, there were more than twenty people. Where the hell did the rest of them go?”

“Well, the way I figure it is that they stop by here to drop the really important people off. The rest of them stay on the bus and go into the desert.”

“To where?”

“I don’t know,” Max said as he pulled the van away from the complex and headed back the way he had previously come on the dirt bike. “But that’s why I’m out here. I plan on finding out. And apparently, since you have actually been on that bus, you know more than I do about what they’re up to.”

“That’s doubtful,” Evan said.

“Well here’s the deal. I’ve been after these assholes for the better part of three years. If you can be of any help, I’d appreciate it. I can’t force you, of course. But keep in mind that you were asking me about a particular tribe of Indians earlier tonight that are known simply as the Tribe. And the only reason any white men ever visit their reservation is not for historical purposes. Now, me being a cop...I can put two and two together. I can bust you for something, I’m sure.”

Evan’s mouth went dry. It wouldn’t take much investigative effort to figure out why he had come to Shinoe. If Max knew of the Tribe and ended up talking with Sam, there was no way he was going to get out of this predicament. Essentially, Max Young was blackmailing him.

“It’s okay,” Max said, as reassuringly as he could. “Anything you tell me right now is harmless. I’m not a cop at this moment.”

Evan stared into the night, thinking about Emile Gorrengo. It was because of Emile that he was here, doing his dirty work, his drug deals. And while he was out here in some supremely deep shit, he was certain that Emile was probably lounging by his pool, drinking wine and feeling up some gorgeous beach bimbo. It wasn’t right.

He then thought of Lott. He recalled the maniacal way the man had presented himself. He thought of how he had snapped his finger as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And more than anything, he saw the frail man raising his axes into the air and lopping off the heads of two people in the night.

“Fine,” Evan said. “It’s not like I wouldn’t enjoy helping someone bust these fuckers. As you can see by my hand and the company they threw me in the cellar with, we really didn’t get off to a good start.”

“Believe me,” Max said, “if I thought there was some other way, I’d let you go on your merry way. But they’re up to something big and if I don’t stop them now, I may never get the chance again.”

“Why are you so determined to get to them?”

Max grunted and stared out into the night, maneuvering the van through the rough desert terrain. For a while, Evan thought that the man wouldn’t say anything. But finally, after taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Max spoke. When he did, his voice was low and full of anger.

“They’ve been doing this for a long time. They came through my hometown and killed my wife and daughter a few years ago. They would have got me too if I hadn’t have been out at the bar in the neighboring town getting drunk.”

“I’m sorry to hear it,” Evan said.

Max only nodded. He eventually came to the spot where he had parked his bike and got out of the van. “Give me a hand, would you?” he asked.

Evan helped Max load the bike into the back of the van as best as he could. He did everything possible to avoid hitting his broken finger. They had to lower the rear seats and even then, the bike barely fit. As they went about this business, Evan found himself looking into the blackness of the night, waiting for a gunshot to sound out or for someone to scream. It just seemed to fit the scene.

“What do you know about the Tribe?” Evan asked as they piled back into the van.

“Enough,” Max said with a sigh. “Are they the reason you ended up here tonight?”

It was Evan’s turn to sound angry now. “Yeah,” he said, and proceeded to tell Max the entire story of how he had been sent to Shinoe by his boss, Emile Gorrengo. He then told him about meeting with Sam and how Sam and his companion had set him up. Max listened with great interest, frowning at certain parts and grinning at others.

“So the Tribe thinks the bus is a competing drug market?” Max asked. “That’s priceless.”

“They’re serious about it, too. They had people on patrol out there tonight, driving around to make sure I got on the bus.”

This seemed to startle Max a bit. He said nothing about it though; he simply furrowed his brow and thought long and hard about something.

The headlights continued to unravel the darkness ahead of them and Evan eventually saw the highway spring into view. Max took a right, headed back to Shinoe, and remained silent for quite some time.

“What are your plans?” Evan asked, not sure if he wanted to hear them or not.

“We’re going to go to my house and grab some things. I’ll properly splint your finger for you, too. Then I think we’ll pay your friend Sam a visit if we can find him.”

“Oh, that’ll be easy,” Evan said, brightening up a bit. “He’s waiting for me at my motel room." He would be delighted to meet Sam again. Especially with a cop in tow. And with the knowledge of what really happened on that bus.

They traveled east, back into Shinoe, winding down the longest night Evan had ever experienced.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Chapter 13 (part1)

Evan and Max left the hallway in a scramble, Max retreating backwards and aiming his gun down the hallway in the event that any of the creatures decided to follow them. While Max had closed the door, there was a gaping hole along its base where he had shot the lock. Apparently, the monsters preferred the darkness because not a single one of them came through the doorway in search of them.

They came to the main room where Evan had had been questioned and had his pinky snapped in half. It was here that Evan realized that the place was deathly quiet. He recalled hearing the gunshots and the starting of an engine, wondering if Max Young had come here by himself. This idea seemed odd, but after the events he had seen tonight, who was to say what odd really was?

“Did you kill most of them?” Evan asked.

“I don’t know,” Max said. “I took down four, wounded one other one, and then a few of them piled into a van and left.”

As he spoke, Max looked terrified and slightly shocked. It was clear to Evan that Max had not been expecting to see such horrors in the cellar. Max looked as if his mind was still struggling to process it all.

“There was a man with white hair,” Evan said. “Really skinny. Did you kill him?”

“No. The others did everything they could to protect him. He got away with about four others in a van.”

“What about the bus?” Evan asked. “Where is it?”

Max looked at Evan suspiciously. “How do you know about the bus?” It wasn’t an accusatory tone, but one of disbelief.

“It’s a long story,” he said, wincing at the pain that continued to flare through his left hand. His back was also hurting a bit now, a result of falling down the stairs.

“I need you to tell me anyway,” Max said. “But not right now. First there’s something I need to check out.”

Max turned and headed back through the hallway from which they had come. Not knowing what he was supposed to do, Evan followed him. When they passed the door to the cellar, they both cut their eyes towards the door. They both heard the clucks and cries of the creatures and it caused them to quicken their pace. The darkness that bordered the door’s edges seemed to melt out towards them, eager to grasp them if they turned their backs.

Evan followed Max out onto the network of walkways, the boards creaking beneath their feet. They passed one of the men that Max had shot, the bullet having taken him in the upper chest. Evan looked away as soon as his eyes fell on the body. Having witnessed the beheadings, he had seen enough death for the night. Still, he followed Max into one of the other shacks without asking questions. He was just thankful that he was alive and that there was someone here to share this madness with him. With a companion, the threat of insanity didn’t seem as progressive.

In this particular shack, there was a door that had been kicked in (part of Max’s assault, Evan assumed), two more bodies, and various books scattered here and there. Two maps hung perfectly aligned on the wall. One of a map of New Mexico and the other was a more detailed rendering of one particular county within the state. Entering the room, Max headed straight for these maps.

He studied the detailed map, trailing his finger over it quickly. Evan looked over Max’s shoulder and saw that it was a map of the area in which they currently stood. To the east, roughly in the center of the map, was Shinoe. It had been circled in red. Other small towns were scattered here and there, several of them having been tagged with bright red X marks.

Max used his finger to follow these X markings, tracing their course along the map.

“What are you looking for?” Evan asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Max said, stepping away from the map and looking around the room. “Help me look through these books, would you? If you see any other maps, let me know.”

Without question, Evan did as he had been asked despite the fact that his instincts told him to get as far away from this place as fast as he could. But if Max Young had not come here tonight, he (Evan) would most likely be having his insides removed by those slithering things in the basement. So if Max needed his help, he’d gladly give it. Besides that, Max had a gun and the cult apparently did not posses any; knives and axes they had, but perhaps guns were against their religion.

Evan almost laughed at this but was afraid of what his laughter would sound like. He focused on the books, flipping through them for any signs of maps. Most of them were journals, sloppily written in and with no apparent organization. But there were others that were nothing more than notebooks with dates and figures written in them.

They looked the room over for about three minutes before Max found what he was looking for. It was a Rand McNally publication, a book full of maps of every state in America. Max flipped through it with purpose and stopped when he came to the maps of southern Utah.

“This,” Max said quietly, “is what I’m looking for.”