CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

“Like I told you before,” Stella went on, “the Anasazi were a very advanced culture at that time, about seven to eight hundred years ago; they were the most advanced culture in North America. They had no one to fear, yet they built these massive cities right into the sides of cliffs. Why go through all of that work if they were the strongest and most advanced tribe?”

Cole didn’t answer. He knew he couldn’t keep up with Stella on this level of conversation. He just let her continue.

“All these years archeologists have always wondered what they were defending themselves from. What were they so afraid of? And after all of that work, what would make them suddenly leave these cities? Or the Maya. Or the Olmecs. Or the Inca. Something drove them out of their cities. Some say it was because of drought or shortage of food supplies, but other tribes stayed in the same regions.”

Stella took a breath; she had been talking so fast, her voice getting louder. She glanced at David to make sure she hadn’t disturbed him. “There are many legends in Native American cultures about demons that would come in the night and take people. Sometimes these demons would ask for things, offerings. And if these offerings weren’t given to them, then they would take people. And supposedly the only people who could see these demons were the shamans. Like witch doctors.”

Cole nodded to indicate that he understood what a shaman was.

“What if David can see that thing out there? What if the reason it wants to kill David is because he’s a shaman – natural-born shaman?”

Cole just stared at her.

“Many believe that shamans were people who may have been born with some kind of psychic or telekinetic abilities. And they used these … these skills to wield power over their tribe.”

“So you think David is a natural shaman? You think he’s psychic or telekinetic?”

“I think he might be, even though he doesn’t know it yet.”

Stella looked at the front door with the recliner in front of it. She looked back at Cole.

“I don’t know what that thing is out there. A demon? I don’t know. The Native American legends of demons predate Christianity. An alien? Who knows? There are many theories of visitations by aliens to cultures in North, Central, and South America. The Nazca Plains. The Hopi Indian rituals. The sacrifices at the temples in the Maya culture may have not been religious ceremonies to their gods. What if they were offerings to that thing out there through the years? Maybe that thing out there only comes around every few hundred years. What if a day to it is a hundred years to us, and a night of sleeping to it is a hundred years?” Stella had been talking so fast, she stopped and stared into Cole’s eyes where she could see doubt and confusion.

“So you think that thing out there might be an alien? Like from outer space? Like from a UFO?”

“Maybe they’ve been here for a long, long time,” she said quickly. “Even before human civilization. I know it sounds far-fetched, but look around you. You’ve seen what that thing can do.”

Cole only nodded.

“I think that thing out there may roam the Earth, unseen and unfelt by most. But then every once in a while someone like David comes along; someone who can see it, feel it, maybe even fight it.”

Suddenly, Cole became a little excited. He could see a glimmer of hope, a small dot of light at the end of this long horrible tunnel they were in. “So you’re saying that we can get David to kill this thing?”

“I don’t know if it’s that easy.”

“What do you mean?”

“David may be a natural-born shaman, but he’s still just a boy. He’s had no training. He may not even know what to do.”

“Great,” Cole said and sighed. “Then I guess we’re back to square one. We try and run in the morning.”

“It may be all we can do for now,” Stella told him. “But we need to protect David. That’s the most important thing.”

Cole leaned back against the couch and let out another long sigh. He looked at Stella who yawned again. “Why don’t you get an hour’s rest? I know you need it. I’ll stand guard for a little while.”

Stella nodded. “I’ll try. Wake me up if you hear anything.”

“I will. Just try and get some rest. Tomorrow morning may be very stressful.”

Almost three hours later everything was still quiet outside. Cole hadn’t heard a single sound from out there, not even the wind.

He sat near the kitchen in the only dining room chair that they hadn’t broken apart and used as wood for the barricades over the windows. He watched Stella and David. Both of them were asleep, both of them breathing heavily.

Cole watched them for a while. He needed to make sure they were asleep.

He got to his feet, being as quiet as he could.

He looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. It would be dawn very soon.

He knew what he needed to do now.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Cole opened the refrigerator. He had rummaged around in here for some food earlier. They had eaten a lot of it so far. But he had seen something earlier that he thought he could use – a can of soda in the bottom drawer underneath a head of wilted lettuce. He took out the can of soda from the crisper drawer and set it on the counter next to the stove. It was a cheap brand of cola. But it didn’t matter to him because he wasn’t going to drink it.

He peeked into the living room.

Stella and David were both still asleep.

Cole looked back at the stove. It was a gas stove. He lifted up the top and blew out the pilot light. He lowered the lid carefully, trying not to make a sound. Once the lid was back down, he turned on all of the burners and the oven. He could already smell the rotten egg smell of gas coming out of the burners.

He grabbed the can of soda from the counter and shook it up. Then he opened the microwave oven and set the can inside. He closed the door and set the timer on the microwave for thirty minutes. The digital numbers began counting down from twenty-nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds. Fifty-eight seconds. Fifty-seven seconds. After thirty minutes the microwave oven would start and heat up the can of soda. The numbers counted down like a ticking time bomb in a movie.

Because this was a bomb.

Cole looked into the living room; he watched Stella and David as they slept while he slipped his coat on. He could feel the stacks of money in his coat pockets that he’d stuffed earlier; the metal case of money, now about half full, still sat on the floor in front of his chair. He had also stuffed some packs of money into his socks and a few in his pants pockets. There was no way he could carry all of the money, but he guessed he must’ve had close to a hundred thousand dollars on him.

This was his share of the money, his mind whispered. And Trevor’s. This was his starting over money.

At least he hoped he would have a chance to start over.

But first he needed to get out of this place alive.

Cole slid his hands into his thin leather gloves and he glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was almost six o’clock in the morning.

And Frank and the others haven’t even tried to attack yet, Cole thought. Why? What were they waiting for?

They are waiting for you, his mind whispered to him again. They are waiting to see what you will do, waiting to see if you will follow instructions and kill the boy.

Cole grabbed the flashlight he had set on the counter earlier and he walked as quietly as he could to the front door. He unlocked the deadbolt and the clicking noise sounded loud in the silent night, but he didn’t even bother to turn around and look at Stella and David if they were waking up now. What could he do now? He didn’t have the time to explain his actions or motives now because the clock was already ticking down to zero – down to detonation.