Downwinders: Blood Oath, Blood River Part 31

"Deem," Winn said, "why are you so resistant? Awan wouldn't feel this strong about it if it wasn't a threat. Normally you'd be all over it. What's up?"

Deem paused for a moment, thinking of the best way to phrase her reluctance. "To be honest with you, I thought we were free of the skinrunner, and I wanted some time to go through the doc.u.ments we got from Claude. I had my heart set on it, was looking forward to it. The person I really want to bring down is Dayton. But if we have to do this, then we have to."

"After we deal with the shaman," Winn said, "we'll take down Dayton. He's next."

"I think you've both got your expectations out of whack," Awan said. "Dayton and the secret council are a much bigger threat than the shaman, and will take longer to fight. They're a network. They'll have lots of people to deal with. You don't even know all their names yet."

"That's what I'm hoping I'll find in Claude's files," Deem said. "That's why I want to start reading them."

"I agree with that," Awan said. "But I don't think you'll be taking Dayton down anytime soon. Even after we kill the shaman."

"Why not?" Winn asked. "He deserves it, for killing Claude."

"Let's say you're able to piece together the names of some or most of the council," Awan said. "These will be prominent people, right? What are you going to do? Pick them off, like a.s.sa.s.sins? That's not going to work, you'll be caught and tried as murderers. And I guarantee you there's a support structure, another group of people who do the bidding of the council, who don't even realize there IS a council, but they're loyal and do what they're told, and you'll have to deal with them, too. That wasn't a council member in Claude's house, it was one of their followers. They're careful. They won't kill directly. When they come after you, it'll be one of their underlings, not them. You don't have a plan, and you'll need a plan to deal with them."

"Then the doc.u.ments might help devise a plan," Deem said. "Right?"

"They might," Awan said. "And they might not. But suppose they do. The plan might be, at best, co-existence with the council. You might be able to find a way to neutralize their desire to take you down, and that's it. I'd be very surprised if you come up with a way to bring down the whole organization. I think you'll find that it's old, complex, entrenched, and very good at protecting itself."

"You're really bringing me down, man," Winn said.

"I'm just saying you need to be realistic," Awan said. "I don't like the IRS, but the best I can do is deal with my tax return. I can't bring them down, they're too big. I have to live with them, even though I don't like them."

Deem knew the moment Awan explained it that it was true. She didn't want it to be, but it was. The shaman was the immediate threat; the secret council was going to be a much bigger nut to crack. She might never crack it.

"Alright," Deem said. "I see your point. We need to deal with the shaman first. And I'll adjust my expectations on the council. But they have to pay for killing Claude."

"Of course," Awan said. "Lyman can help you with that."

"What do we do about the shaman?" Deem asked. "I don't even know where to start. With Braithwaite?"

"No," Awan said. "Braithwaite is doomed. He'll be gone in a couple of days."

"I called the bank, by the way. He did call in sick," Deem said.

"Good," Awan replied. "OK. What we've got to do is find the shaman and then figure out what his weaknesses are. Finding him is probably the easy part. My friends tell me when the Navajos exiled him, he moved to Kanab. The rumor is that he operates out of the old Indian school there."

"That's the school where they'd bus native American kids from the reservation?" Winn asked.

"Up until about twenty years ago," Awan said. "It was originally a hospital for vets. Lots of World War II soldiers were treated there. After the war they turned it into a school. They'd bus them in from all over, mostly Navajo. The kids stayed on campus for the school year, then went back home. Their big goal was to drive the Indian out of them, make them like white kids. Accelerate the Book of Mormon prediction."

"What was that?" Winn asked.

"That they'd eventually turn white," Deem said.

"You gotta be s.h.i.tting me," Winn said.

"Nope," Deem said.

"There was a lot of abuse at the school," Awan said. "A lot of the staff thought of the kids as animals needing to learn white man ways, and they treated the kids accordingly. Eventually budget cutbacks shut it down, that and the fact the Navajos would rather teach their children on the res than have them bussed away for a year at a time.

"So the school is just a collection of old buildings now, slowly deteriorating. There's a fence around the place, but people break in all the time. Lots of graffiti. It has a reputation for being haunted, and it is. You can find videos on YouTube of kids exploring the place, but they never make it as far as the bas.e.m.e.nts and the underground tunnels that connected the buildings. That's where my friends say the shaman is living. Set up shop in one of the sub-bas.e.m.e.nts. Keeps the kids away by scaring them."

"Why there?" Deem asked. "Why not in a house somewhere?"

"The place is full of bad mojo," Awan said. "Years of vets going through constant pain. There are stories of an amputation pit, where they'd dispose of the limbs. Then add to that the abuse the kids went through, ripped from their families and forced to do things a certain way, the white way, or be punished. Whippings, confinement, s.e.xual abuse. Lots of bad mojo. Then add fallout. A perfect vortex for his skinrunner ritual."

"Sounds like a horrible place," Deem said. "I don't relish the idea of going there."

"But that's where we'll need to start, right?" Winn asked.

"Right," Awan said. "At least, that's the only lead I have on him."

"Does he have a name?" Deem asked.

"He's known as Ninth Sign," Awan said.

"What do you suggest we do?" Deem asked. "Just walking right into his home base seems like a bad idea."

"I think we can get the Navajo to do the work and get rid of him," Awan said. "He came from them, so he's their responsibility. I have a Navajo friend who is already pressuring the tribe to do the work. They've told him they'll do it, but they don't know where he's at. Right now it's only a rumor that he's at the school, so we need to be sure. If we can tell the tribe his exact location, they'll feel obligated to go in. So, go tomorrow, during the day. See if he's there. I'd go with you, but I have to be in Vegas for my mom. She's having an operation."

"We could wait for you to come with us," Deem said. "Until after your mom is out."

"Waiting is a bad idea," Awan said. "You should do this before he figures out how Braithwaite was killed. He's still on the defensive, which is good. He won't know you. Once he moves to offense, it'll be a lot harder."

"So, we go in and make sure he's at the school?" Winn asked. "That's all?"

"Take a video camera with you," Awan said. "Go in as kids, just exploring the grounds for fun. See if you can locate exactly where he's at. The more specific you can be, the better, so note which building he's in, which tunnel, that kind of thing. Once you know, leave. Don't confront him. Call me as soon as you get out, and I'll call my friend. He'll pa.s.s the info on to the Navajos, and they'll go in and finish him off."

"Alright," Deem said. "Winn and I will leave for Kanab first thing tomorrow."

"Good," Awan said.

"Is he gifted, like you and me?" Winn asked.

"Yes," Awan said. "But when he became a shaman, it turned into more than that. He took on the ancient knowledge, and he carries it with him. When the tribe kicked him out, they stripped him of his right to that knowledge, but by that point he'd stolen the parts of it he wanted for his purposes. I think he used the radiation to twist and warp some of the tribe's processes. That's why kicking him out wasn't enough, and now they're going to need extreme measures to neutralize him."

"Your Navajo friend," Winn said, "he'll be able to get the tribe to finish him? They've agreed to do it?"

"I think so," Awan said. "I think the tribe thought they could kick him out, and he'd lose his powers, and disappear. So it's embarra.s.sing to them that he's still operating. They don't want him out there, rogue, giving them a bad name. The Navajo keep that kind of thing to themselves, they don't like it to be known by outsiders. Most Navajo won't even say the word 'skinwalker,' so they're not likely to allow him to keep making them, even if he's off the res. Especially these f.u.c.ked up skinrunners, attacking white people. Not what they want. I think they'll clean him up, quick. The tribe will be far more of a threat to him than us. We screwed with one of his skinrunners, but the tribe can screw with his entire operation."

"This may not be as hard as I thought," Winn said. "Thank G.o.d we've got the Navajo nation on our side."

"Don't let me mislead you," Awan said. "You'll need to keep your wits about you. It's important that he not detect who you are."

"Should we use protection, going in?" Deem asked. Protection was a liquid Deem used when exploring caves and mines. It offered a general protection against mental attacks, but she'd found it also helped repel creatures in the River.

"Yes, drink protection. And use this," Awan said, removing two items from his pocket and handing one to each of them. Deem took the item and examined it. It was a beaded emblem in the shape of a circle, about an inch wide. The beads formed a spiral pattern. "It'll keep the parts of your memory you don't want him to read locked away in the back of your brain," Awan said. "Wall off all of that stuff before you go in, and this will make it appear that it's not there. If you run into him, he'll think you're just two gifteds, out for a thrill, making a video like other kids. He won't pick up anything about the skinrunner or why you're really there. Think of it as insurance."

Deem dropped into the River, and the beaded circle in her hand transformed into a small snake that twisted between her fingers. It had a large blue head. She felt its tongue dart out, scratching at her palm. She screamed and dropped out of the River, dropping the beaded circle on the table.

"It moved!" she said. "It's a f.u.c.king snake!"

"Yes," Awan said, smiling at her reaction. "Just before you go in, hold the emblem to your forehead, like this." Awan picked up the beaded circle Deem had dropped, and placed it squarely above his eyes. "Then drop into the River. The snake will enter your head."

"Oh, f.u.c.k no," Deem said. Awan looked at her. "f.u.c.k no!" she repeated.

"When you want to remove it, hold the emblem at the back of your head, here," Awan said, moving it to the back side of his head and pressing it against his hair. "It'll come back out."

"G.o.dd.a.m.n it, Awan," Deem said, letting her head drop toward the table. Winn began to chuckle.

"She hates critters," Winn said to Awan, smiling.

"Why a snake?" Deem said, raising her head.

"Trust me, you'll be glad you had this," Awan said. "My grandfather made these. They work. Try it. Go ahead."

"Here?" Deem said, looking around the restaurant.

"They won't notice anything," Awan said. "Just hold it there for a second and drop in."

"You promise me it'll come back out?" Deem said, a panicked look on her face. Winn laughed and smacked the top of the table with his hand, delighted with her anxiety.

"Yes, it'll come back out," Awan said. "Before you do it, think of the things you want walled off, so the snake will know what to do."

"Oh, G.o.d, creepy," Deem said, shivering. She held the emblem up to her forehead, thinking about the skinrunner and the shaman, and their experiences over the past few days. She thought of Braithwaite's house, cutting the bone fragments out of her aunt and mother, and of the bus ride back from Pipe Springs. Then she pressed the circle against her forehead.

She fell forward, her head hitting the table with a bang. It flipped a spoon that flew up into the air and landed on Winn. He let out a loud laugh.

People at nearby tables looked over, and their waitress came running. "Is everything OK?" she asked.

Winn was trying to conceal his laughing. "She's fine," Awan said to the waitress, raising Deem's head from the table and hiding the emblem in his palm. "She's narcoleptic," Awan said. "Happens sometimes. She'll come around in a moment."

"Do you need anything?" the waitress asked, worried.

"No, everything's fine," Awan said. "We're used to it. Maybe a water refill?"

The waitress furrowed her brow, then turned to retrieve the water. After she'd walked away Winn said to Awan, "Did you know that would happen?"

"No," Awan said back. "It never does that to me."

Deem's eyes fluttered open, and she found herself leaning on Awan's shoulder. She slowly righted herself.

"Oh, that was f.u.c.ked up," Deem said, holding the table.

"You pa.s.sed out," Winn said, still snickering. "You flipped silverware all over. The waitress is coming back to check on you."

"I told them you were narcoleptic, so play along," Awan said.

The waitress returned with a water pitcher. "Oh, you're back, I see!" she said to Deem.

"Sorry about that," Deem said, looking up at her sheepishly. "I really can't control it."

"No problem, hun," the waitress said, pouring refills. "You just relax. Is there anything I can get you?"

"No, I'm fine, really," Deem said. Other than having a snake crawling through my mind, that is.

"Alright, you let me know if you do," the waitress said, turning away. She noticed a man at the next table staring at Deem. "What are you looking at?" she said to the man as she pa.s.sed him, and he lowered his gaze back to the food at his table.

"What did it feel like?" Winn asked, running his fingers over the beads on the emblem Awan had given him. "Can you feel it moving around?"

"It felt like being swallowed," Deem said, "then nothing. Blackout. Now I just feel dizzy, like things are moving around me."

"That'll pa.s.s," Awan said. "Give it a couple of minutes, and you'll be fine. You'll want to plan for this before you go into the school. Give yourself ten minutes to get past the blackout and the dizziness."

"I want to try it," Winn said, raising the emblem to his head. Awan reached out and stopped him.

"I don't know how we'd explain two narcoleptics to the waitress," Awan said. "Wait until you're in the car, please."

"Alright," Winn said.

"You want to remove it?" Awan asked Deem.

"I do, but I want to let it stay in there for a while, so I know what it's like. Is there any harm to it being in there?"

"I don't think so," Awan said, "The longest I've ever known of it being in someone was my Uncle Barry. He had it in him for five years. Long story."

"So I just put it on the back of my head, like this," Deem said, holding it to the back of her head through her hair, "and drop? It'll come right out?"

"Right out," Awan said.

"What if it doesn't?" Deem asked.

"Then I guess you'll have an extra friend riding around with you," Awan said, smiling.

"I'm not kidding, Awan," Deem said. "I want it out of me."

"It'll come out," Awan said rea.s.suringly. It wasn't enough for Deem.

"How will I know it's out?" she asked.

"Drop and look at the emblem, both of you," Awan said. They did, and Deem saw that her circle was still a circle. Winn's turned into a snake, and he jumped.

Winn's is out of him, Awan said. You can see it. You'll know it's out of you when you can see it instead of the emblem, in the River.

They dropped out of the flow, and Winn looked tense.

"It's only a snake, Winn," Deem said, unable to resist teasing him.