Ryan Hunter - Writer Editor Book Promotions

Fooling Around in the Kitchen

2011-12-13T12:33:00.000-08:00

So, I started a cupcakery... seriously! Yeah, I know, I was surprised too. Now I get to fool around in the kitchen every day! Soon, I'll even sit back down at my computer long enough to write again. Believe me, the ideas are coming in full force! I'm waking up one night dreaming of pink frosting and sprinkles and the next I'm shooting serial killers and or seeing brutal murders. Can this really be normal? I'm a writer... so, yes, I believe so. Still, it's odd, or something.

So, if you're ever in Cedar City and get a hankering to actually eat an angry bird instead of launching them against little green piggies, stop by to see me!

You can check out my website at MySweetMercy.com

Premeditated - Now on Kindle and Nook

2011-07-22T07:36:00.000-07:00

"Skyler Reed never thought he’d see Jenna again, especially not after she admitted to killing a man. Now she stood outside his window, her fist raised to knock again, her blue eyes dark and wild. She would have been sexy if she hadn’t been a killer. That’s what got him, the fact that she said she’d killed a man and had given the cops all the details. How could it not be true? But standing outside his window, her blond hair windblown and her lips pale, she looked harmless." - Premeditated by Ryan Hunter

It's official, my new novel, Premeditated, is now available! You can order for your Kindle or Nook for just $2.99! Either site should allow you to download the first twenty pages FREE so you can check it out before you buy it. Want to read the first page? It's right here.

I hope you all enjoy the book and I look forward to your feedback!

Premeditated - the first page of my WIP - so, want to read more?

2011-07-08T12:10:00.000-07:00

PROLOGUE: An Announcement

I used to imagine confessing to murder would take some of the guilt away, make it easier to live with. I was wrong.

I realize now that it doesn’t really make much difference whether I confessed or kept my mouth shut. I mean, the man’s dead and nothing I do will ever bring him back. Not that I’d want to anyway. You’ve seen his record so I’m sure you’d agree the world is seriously better off without him.

I can say that perhaps it shouldn’t have been my decision to make the world better by taking him out of it. I mean you, of all people, know the chaos it would cause if everyone started offing the people they thought deserved to die… Yes, I’m pretty sure those decisions should be left up to God from now on.

But it’s too late now. Clint’s dead and confessing only put me behind bars and left other lives vulnerable to the decisions I’ve made about who should live and who should die.

Does that even surprise you, that I’ve planned the deaths of others like that bastard?

I didn’t think so.

Still, since you put me in here, I thought you had a right to know that I’ve decided to leave this place.

Because playing God is not just a game anymore.

Sincerely,

Inmate 54763

Jenna Adamson

Confessions...

2011-07-07T10:17:00.000-07:00

Let's say you confessed to a crime - then regretted it - what would you do next?

Would you try to escape from your sentence?

Would you suck it up and take the punishment?

What if it was murder?

I'm working on my final edit of PREMEDITATED, the story of Jenna Adamson, who's been convicted of murder and is awaiting sentencing... Jenna escapes to stop other murders, murders she claims were planned in a game of revenge.

Ebooks and Publishing

2011-06-26T16:03:00.000-07:00

Found this interesting blog post about ebooks and self-publishing. I'd love to hear all your opinions about it. check it out and let me know what you think...

http://annerallen.blogspot.com/2011/06/literary-agents-endangered-species.html

Writing on the Pot... I mean, a comparison of writing and toiletry... or something like that...

2011-06-22T14:02:00.000-07:00

So, I read this great blog post by The Intern about finding beauty...

Awesome!

It makes me wonder though, am I an expert plumber or am I actually being flushed?

I think it's time to go for a walk, make dinner and find the beauty and love in my life and writing!

Check out the posting at the link below!

http://internspills.blogspot.com/2011/06/on-finding-beauty-again.html

Awesome link for Authors... One thing you can do to Succeed...

2011-05-23T08:09:00.000-07:00

Check this out... advice from literary agents on how you can succeed...

Jenny Bent - Debbie Carter - Janet Reid - Nicholas Croce

http://www.thebigthrill.org/2011/05/coming-may-23rd-to-the-29th-what-is-the-one-thing-authors-can-do-to-help-make-you-and-ultimately-themselves-more-successful/

Handcuffed....

2011-03-24T06:54:00.000-07:00

I was handcuffed last night in the name of research. I wanted to try driving too but figured it may not be the best idea if I'd like to see my family again.

I wanted to see if it was possible to slip my arms around to the front like you see all the criminals do in the movies. It wasn't happening. Of course, everyone one else was able to do it, which means it's possible, just not for me.

Since it was research, my loving family sat around and laughed at me while I struggled to get free. They said they didn't want to interfere or stop my learning curve. You know, they wanted me to get the full effect of the exercise. Well, I did. After finding a cuff key and taking an eternity to locate the keyhole while it was behind my back, I finally freed myself but they'd gotten so bored with watching me that I don't think they ever noticed...

Has anybody out there actually driven with handcuffs? What are the biggest challenges and how did you finally get out of the cuffs?

I Confessed to Murder...

2011-01-20T13:17:00.000-08:00

I had a dream I confessed to a murder and it disturbed me when I woke.

I knew there'd be guilt associated with committing a crime, but one in the mind? I'm now writing about the episode with the working title of Premeditated.

It consumes my thoughts...

The characters are so vivid...

The plot is so complete...

I think I like dreaming my stories.

Teach your Children the Values America was Founded Upon

2011-01-06T11:45:00.000-08:00

Children need heroes, and sometimes the best role models are their peers. That some of those peers lived hundreds of years ago only adds to the excitement and allure of the new series of books for children based on real events and young heroes of the American Revolution.

In the Personal Responsibility Founders Series’ debut book, The Moonlight Message, author Denice Barlow Brown tells the fictionalized, meticulously researched story of Grace Martin, a young girl living in South Carolina during the American Revolution who demonstrated boundless courage at a critical time in our nation’s history and in the specific history of Grace’s village.

Ever since the Redcoats arrived, Grace’s family and the entire village have been on edge. But once all the men and boys have declared themselves Patriots and gone to fight the British, it’s up to Grace and her older sister Rachel to find a way to protect their village from the spies of the king.

Can girls be Patriots too? That’s the questions on young Grace’s mind. With Rachel’s help and some borrowed boys’ clothing, the two sisters find a way to capture a spy, if ever so briefly, and intercept a critical message. In so doing, notes the author, “They defy convention and honor the American tradition of independence, personal responsibility, and true grit.”

In this exciting first person narrative told by Grace, readers of all ages will be motivated by the realization that digging deep, taking responsibility, and working for a cause greater than oneself is part of our American, and our human, heritage.

For more information or media commentary, please contact Jared Westhoff at publisher@cypress-productions.com. http://www.cypress-productions.com/

Editing and Book Promotion

2011-01-03T11:01:00.000-08:00

I've been asked numerous times lately to edit or promote various books and so I've decided to make it official. I'm editing now, doing book promotion and critiquing novels on a case-by-case basis. If you'd like to know more or have a book you'd like me to take a look at, please contact me at ryanhunter.45@gmail.com

My background: I've published two novels, under another name, have worked as the managing editor for two newspapers, have edited for magazines and websites. I have extensive experience writing keyword articles and doing other forms of SEO. I'm currently a freelance writer and I'm working on a new novel under the name of Ryan Hunter as I'm switching genres.

I have helped first time authors with editing and a New York Times Bestseller with book promotion and generating more reviews.

I'd love to help you with yours.

Reclamation - Chapter 59

2010-11-10T14:25:00.000-08:00

A stick snapped in the woods to Corey’s left and he froze. He’d seen the warning sign at the trailhead, but hadn’t thought they’d actually encounter any cougars. He bit the inside of his cheek and hefted his backpack further onto his shoulder. Was it hungry or curious? Slowly, he turned his head and met the yellow eyes of a cougar, his body tense, crouching in the shadows.

“Zy?” he whispered.

Zyanya touched his lips with her fingertips, moving beyond him, soundlessly. She took one step toward the cougar before she bounded from the trail, her body arching in a black blur that disappeared in a tangle of limbs. A screech pierced from the thrashing shadows that had Corey stumbling backward, flailing in the shallow river.

The cougar growled, the sound followed by a cry more feline than human and Corey stepped backward, the icy water up to his ankles and his worn sneakers slipping on the smooth stones at its bottom. He stumbled as he reached the opposite bank. It was just as he’d seen that summer and now here it was again, he was sure; fur tangled in shadows until he couldn’t quite make out any definite shape other than to rule out human completely. His hands shook and he couldn’t stand.

The crying and hissing continued as his legs gave way, dropping him to the rocky ground beside the trail.

Zyanya’s cry became a high pitched scream and Corey covered his ears. He’d heard that scream before when he was a child facing a shape-shifter who’d just become jaguar. He’d heard it again in a middle school documentary South America and had been sent back to the hospital after a “relapse.”

Tree limbs cracked and shattered, the thudding of heavy paws drawing weak until overpowered by a crushing and crackling Corey could only imagine coming from bone.

His heart hammered and he scrambled backward, the red dirt giving way beneath his feet, his clawing hands. He pushed to his hands and feet before his legs regained their strength and he stumbled forward. He took a deep breath, glanced over his shoulder at the lithe woman in leather boots, and took off at a run.

He had to get to Maddy before the jaguar woman got to him. He had to save her life, to get her to safety.

Corey tripped on a tree trunk and cut open his palms as he hit the ground. He dusted them on his jeans and continued. The parking lot couldn’t be more than half a mile back down the trail. He crossed the river again, his shoes slipping on the rocky bottom.

How had Zyanya turned into a jaguar? How had she made Maddy lie so still in her trunk? Was she really dead or had she been poisoned? Cursed?

His heartbeat sped and his blood pounded in his temples, the altitude cutting his breath. If he ran every day like Garrett, he’d have more endurance, but he wasn’t Garrett. He was Corey Walsh, failing attorney and lacking father.

He dropped his backpack and tripped up the stairs the forest service had made from dirt and logs. A few more steps and he’d be there. All he had to do was get her to the ranger’s station and she’d be safe. He could call an ambulance and forget he’d ever met Zyanya, except Zyanya stood at the top of the stairs, blocking his path.

Corey took a deep breath, his body heaving. “Get out of my way.”

Zyanya stepped toward him and Corey tripped backward down the steps.

“We have work to do,” she said, her voice calm.

He shook his head. “I want my wife. She needs help.”

Zyanya touched her cheek, wiping away a drop of blood from the trails of the cougar’s claws. “She doesn’t need your help or anyone else’s.”

Corey fisted his hands. “You’ve killed her.”

Zyanya placed her finger between her lips and sucked the blood away. “Not yet, and if everything goes according to plan, I won’t have to.”

“You mean the flute,” he said. “Garrett has it. We could wait by the car.”

Zyanya leaned in close to him, her face within inches of his. “What if he doesn’t have it?”

Corey stepped back, his foot hitting his backpack and folding his ankle. He crashed to the ground. “He has it.”

“The only things I know about you are that you stole my medallion when we were children and you’re a lawyer. Neither leads to a path of trust.”

“What do you plan to do?” Corey asked.

“We’re going to find the Temple of Quetzalcoatl and look for the flute while Garrett’s on his way, just in case.”

Corey stared beyond her at the steps to the parking lot. It was late spring, so there should be more visitors in the park, but it was the middle of the week as well.

“You wouldn’t make it,” she said.

“How do you know that, but can’t tell that I’m being honest with you about the flute?”

Zyanya grabbed his shirt below his chin and hauled him to his feet. “It’s time to go.”

“What about the codex? I’m missing the last page.”

“Then we go back to the page before. We visit and we stay there with the Aztecs until they lead us to the temple.”

Reclamation - Chapter 58

2010-11-10T14:16:00.000-08:00

Garrett’s bandage sported fresh blood, his leg throbbing as he climbed in the driver’s seat of his beat up car.

“We should get that checked out,” Liberty said.

Garrett shook his head. “We’re going to end this hunt today. There’s no time to see a doctor.”

“We at least need to get you some antibiotic and a proper bandage.”

His cell rang. Liberty latched her seatbelt as Garrett flipped open his phone.

“Corey, are you all right?”

“You remember that summer, Garrett. I know you do.”

Garrett’s throat tightened, the painting in his studio haunting him. “I remember.”

“You saw the girl. You know she’s real.”

Garrett cleared his throat, his hand sweaty on the phone. “I saw something up there that day, but I don’t know that I can ever explain it.”

“Why didn’t you stand up for me?”

Garrett switched the phone to the opposite ear. “Because the girl is all I ever saw, Corey. The rest was in your imagination.”

“But it wasn’t, Garrett. It was all as real as the girl. These things I’m seeing now, the Aztecs, they’re as real as that girl.”

“Where are you, Corey?”

“With her.”

“Who?”

“Her name’s Zyanya.”

“The girl we saw when we were kids?”

“Will you stand up for me now?” Corey asked.

Garrett nodded. “Yes, Corey. What do you need?”

“The flute.”

The camera bag sat on Liberty’s lap. He motioned to the pocket. “You want the flute?”

Liberty frowned and mouthed, “Why?”

“Zyanya wants the flute. The rest of the treasure is ours if we just deliver the flute.”

“What about Maddy?” Garrett asked.

“We have her. She’s safe.”

“She’s okay then?”

Corey didn’t respond.

“Corey, is Maddy okay?”

“I saw her, Garrett. She looks like she’s sleeping.”

Garrett swallowed hard.

“Zyanya will give her back when she has the flute.”

He pushed his fingers through his filthy hair. “Where do we meet?”

“Kolob.”

Walter had been right. “When?”

“One hour.”

Garrett checked his watch. “Where do I go once I’m in the park?”

Corey spoke to someone in the background briefly before returning to the phone. “You’ve seen the last page of the codex?”

“I don’t have it, Corey.”

“But you’ve seen it?”

“Yes, I’ve seen it.”

“There’s a symbol, repeated on the codex over and over. Watch for it when you enter the park.”

“Okay.”

“You know what I’m talking about?”

“Yes.” He remembered the towering shapes, like triangles one after another.

“And bring it with you. We can’t find it without the page.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“One more thing,” Corey said. “Is Liberty with you?”

Garrett hesitated. “Yes.”

“Good. Bring her with you.”

“Why?”

“Just bring her.”

“I don’t want her getting hurt. You have to tell me why first.”

“Zyanya wants to meet her,” he said before disconnecting.

Reclamation - Chapter 57

2010-11-10T14:10:00.000-08:00

“We’re not going to the cops,” Walter said.

Garrett winced as Liberty poured water over his open wound. “We’ve got to have help finding Corey before something happens to him.”

Walter stomped to the fence and back. “The police have a description of Corey already. They’re doing all they can to find him.”

“The officers in Salt Lake have his description,” Liberty said, ripping a strip of Garrett’s t-shirt free. “They weren’t expecting him to come this far south.”

“So we call them and then what, we sit around in an office filling out papers when we could go out and find him ourselves faster?”

“We make a phone call,” Garrett said. “We could even call the officer in Salt Lake and he could relay it to the locals.”

“We don’t even know where to go from here,” Liberty said.

“Kolob,” Walter said.

“Kolob?” she asked, rewrapping Garrett’s thigh.

“It’s a pretty little canyon just south of Cedar City,” Walter said.

Liberty stomped her foot. “I know where Kolob is. Why there?”

“Corey Googled it on Garrett’s computer for one. And, it’s one of my three top favorite possibilities for Monty’s gold.”

“Why Kolob over the other two?” Garrett asked, sliding from the hood and pulling the car keys from his pocket.

“It’s closer than Zion and we don’t have a permit to raft through the Grand Canyon.”

Garrett opened the driver’s door. So Walter and Corey were thinking on the same wavelength at least. “We’ll call the cops on the way out and continue on to Kolob. By the time we get to the canyon, we should have help waiting.”

“What happens when they take Corey into custody?” Walter asked.

“You make it sound like he’s being arrested,” Garrett said.

“Have you thought that far ahead?” Walter paced in front of the car. “We could be within a mile of the biggest treasure find in U.S. history and you’re willing to throw it away.”

“For the life of my friend, yes.”

“Not for his life, just a delay, a few more hours at most. We follow Corey into Kolob, find the location and pull him out of there, get him help. He’s already delusional, Garrett, what’s a few more hours?” Walter pushed.

“A few seconds in the scope of a rifle is death, Walter.”

“We don’t even know that the assassin followed us out of there.”

“What about Maddy?”

“Until the guy gets the medallion he’s going to keep her alive. That much we can count on.”

Garrett shook his head. “The guy killed two of Liberty’s roommates and shot me in the leg. I don’t know about you, but those actions demonstrate untrustworthiness to me.”

Walter clung to the fence, his face toward the rocks. “You’re right,” he said slowly. “When we get to cell service, call Maddy’s phone. We’ve got to get in contact with her kidnapper.”

“Thank you,” Liberty said.

Walter shrugged it off. “You can set up a location to make the trade and call the cops to meet there.”

Garrett opened the driver’s door. “Let’s get going then.”

Walter waved him toward the fence. “Check out that petroglyph right there,” he said, pointing through the wire.

“The spiral?” Garrett asked.

Walter shook his head. “The little one below it.”

“I’m not seeing it.”

Walter rushed to the car and got out a paper and pencil. “Would you climb around this fence and trace it on the paper?”

“Liberty could just take a photo.”

Walter shook his head. “Unless the light hits it just right, it won’t be visible in the photo.”

“Is this necessary?” Liberty asked.

Walter peered closer. “I think that’s the Aztec symbol for Quetzalcoatl, or the flame arch.”

Liberty started up the hillside, heading for a break in the fence. “I’ll check it out.”

Garrett took the pencil and paper from Walter. “You don’t need to be breaking the law. Let me do it.”

Liberty shook her head and continued. Garrett hurried after her.

“What does it mean, the symbol here?” Liberty asked.

Walter didn’t reply and Garrett turned to look back down the mountain. Walter pulled the driver’s door shut and the engine started. Garrett looked back at his hand and realized that Walter had taken the car keys when he’d given Garrett the paper and pencil.

“Walter?”

Liberty stopped climbing. “Dad?”

The car circled in the parking area and moved out on the pavement.

“Walter!” Garrett shouted, lunging down the hillside.

Liberty sprinted past him, stopping on the shoulder of the road, the engine already silenced by distance.

“He left us,” Liberty said as Garrett caught up to her.

“I see that.”

“I believed him about the glyph.”

Garrett scratched the back of his head, turning to where the car had been parked moments before. “He left us a couple water bottles.”

“How thoughtful.” Liberty picked them up and tossed one to Garrett. “Are we closer to Cedar or Parowan?”

Garrett started down the road. “Might as well find out how close we can get to Cedar before dark.”

Liberty fell into step beside him and said, “Right now, I think I understand Corey’s actions better than my own father’s.”

“I’m sorry for getting you involved in all this,” Garrett said suddenly.

Liberty opened her camera bag and pulled out the flute. “Check this out. If your friend wasn’t running for his life, and his wife in the clutches of the devil himself, this would be the best day of my life.”

Garrett chuckled. “Don’t forget La Raza’s plot to take over the U.S.”

Liberty placed the flute in the front zipper pouch of her bag and packed up her camera. “How could I forget a good plot for world domination?”

Garrett’s stomach growled loud enough to grab Liberty’s attention. “How long’s it been since we’ve eaten?” he asked.

Liberty shrugged and sipped her water. “At least we won’t dehydrate.”

Garrett followed her lead, nearly spitting out the water as an old farm truck lumbered into sight. “I think we may have found a ride to town.”

Reclamation - Chapter 56

2010-11-10T14:03:00.000-08:00

Corey hadn’t noticed the similarities when he’d first gotten in the car. Liberty had the same shaped nose, the same dark eyes, lips, chin … but Liberty had to be at least ten years younger. Not that this woman looked old. She looked quite young until he’d studied her for several minutes.

Liberty’s skin was lighter and her hair wasn’t as black as Zyanya’s. Still, they could be sisters.

“Where are you headed?” Zyanya asked.

Corey cleared his throat. “Cedar City.”

“I thought you wanted a ride south,” she said.

Corey shook his head, swallowed hard and said, “Isn’t Cedar City south?”

Zyanya kept her eyes on the road. “Southwest.”

“That’s where I want to go then.” Corey clung to the straps on his backpack as it rested on the floorboard between his feet.

“Why’d you leave your friends?”

“They’re not my friends,” Corey said.

She raised an eyebrow. “Not even Garrett?”

Corey scooted closer to the door, his unease growing. “Who are you?”

“I told you when I picked you up. My name is Zyanya.”

“You know Garrett? Are you working together?”

She shrugged. “We’ve met, briefly.”

“So you are working together.”

She shook her head. “You and I have met too, or don’t you remember?”

Corey scratched his head with one hand while retaining a firm grip on the backpack with the other.

“I thought I would have left more of an impression,” she said.

“Let me out.”

Zyanya kept driving, her speed steady.

“I mean it. I want out.”

“You want it badly enough to give up your most prized possession?” Her voice purred, but didn’t mask the barbs in each syllable.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Zyanya glanced down at the backpack and Corey shifted his legs to trap it between them and the seat.

“Pull over or I’m calling the police,” Corey said, pulling out his cell phone.

Zyanya pulled to the side of the road and Corey reached for the door handle before the car came to a stop.

“Do you love her, Corey?”

He flung the door open, the ground still gliding past.

“Maddy,” she clarified. “Do you love her?”

Corey froze. “Where is she?”

The car stopped. “Do you love her more than the medallion?”

Corey’s stomach lurched. How many people were looking for that stupid medallion? He pulled it from around his neck and held it between them, the chain firmly wrapped around his fingers. “It’s yours as soon as you give me my wife.”

Zyanya nodded, her eyebrows arching. “Deal.” She reached for the medallion and Corey jerked it away.

“Where is she?”

Zyanya motioned to the back of the car. “In the trunk.”

Corey pursed his lips together and closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths. “Is she alive?”

“She’s fine.”

“I want to see her.”

Zyanya stepped from the car and opened the trunk. Maddy looked to be sleeping, her eyes closed, hair curved against high cheekbones. He reached out to touch her but Zyanya shut the trunk, knocking his hand away.

“What have you done to her?” he asked.

Zyanya returned to the driver’s seat. “Get in.”

“We made a deal.”

“I need your help before we make the trade.”

“I don’t trust you.”

Zyanya started the car back up. “Do you trust anyone, Corey?”

The car pulled away and Corey ran for it, nearly diving into the passenger seat. Whether he wanted to help her or not, he couldn’t let Maddy out of his sight like this. He closed the door behind him and Zyanya sped away. “What is it you want?”

“I want you to read the map.”

“Map?”

“Codex.”

“How do you know about that?”

“We’ve been connected, here,” Zyanya paused, touching her forehead, then Corey’s, “since you stole my medallion.”

“I didn’t steal anything. I found it when I was a kid …” His voice trailed off as he pictured the little girl in the woods, the dark eyes and the voice that called down the rocks that had nearly killed him and Garrett in the old mine.

“You remember me.”

Corey nodded. “Can you read all my thoughts?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to read all your thoughts, Corey.”

He stared out the window, feeling naked to his soul. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the medallion dangling from his fingers. “Why don’t you do it?”

Zyanya turned onto the highway that would take them to downtown Cedar City. “Only one can possess the key. You’ve already unlocked the map and so you are the one who can see it.”

“How will that help you?”

“I see what you see.”

“Have you seen them before, my visions?”

She shrugged. “The blind man should have kept his mouth shut.”

“You were there?”

“I arrived a little late, but finally made it with your help.”

Corey braced his chin on his fist against the doorframe. “Did you stab him?”

“He would have died anyway.”

The valley flew by in a blur of wooden fence posts, the tires humming against the asphalt. “You want me to tell you the location of the treasure?”

“I don’t want the treasure.”

“You don’t?”

She shook her head. “Victor will want a few pieces, but I want only one artifact.”

“How do you know it ever left Tenochtitlan?”

“I know.”

Corey pulled the codex from his backpack and spread it across his lap. He held the medallion above the codex, waiting for instruction. “Where do you believe it was buried?”

“Because of the power it possesses, it should be hidden with the most sacred artifacts, in the new temple of Quetzalcoatl.”

Houses appeared on either side of the road as they passed through a small town on the outskirts of Cedar City.

“But its alliance with Tezcatlipoca may have required a different place. They were enemies, you know.”

Corey clutched the medallion in the palm of his hand as they crossed over the freeway and rounded the bend into the city. “I want my wife back.”

“We can’t make any mistakes, Corey. We can’t go back once we’ve been to one location.”

At least she answered that question, but he really didn’t care anymore. He wanted the entire ordeal over with. Now. “What is it you’re looking for?” he asked, not trying to mask his frustration.

“The flute of Tezcatlipoca.”

Writing Contest Winner...

2010-06-26T19:16:00.000-07:00

I found this writing contest that judged first pages only. That's right, the first 13 lines... So I entered and got an email a few weeks later stating that there were several ties and results were delayed until they could be decided upon by some tie-breakers.

Yeah, so mine was one of them and when all was said and done, I came in second in suspense. I've included the first page here, so check it out and let me know what you think.

SIX

by Ryan Hunter

Amy Madsen opened her door at 4 a.m. to an old biker with gray hair in a ponytail disappearing behind his black leather jacket.

"Is your daughter in agony?" he asked, his forehead creasing with worry and his feet shifting backward toward his waiting Harley.

Amy stared, trying to make sense of the situation, unsure she had even woken.

He wrung his hands nervously, taking a step backward.

She shook her head. "No, not that I know of." She brushed her short, sleep tangled hair from her face.

He sighed and cast a glance to heaven as if thanking God for her safety, but when he met her eyes again, his were still troubled.

He took two more steps backward and she put out a hand as if she could will him to explain. "Wait," she said.

That one word broke his trance and he jumped on his Harley, kicked it into a roar and sped away.

Reclamation - Chapter 56

2010-05-01T21:44:00.000-07:00

Liberty examined the flute, each detail intricate in its meaning and beauty. “Corey found this in the cave?” she asked.

Garrett nodded.

“Why didn’t he show it to us until now?”

Walter took it from Liberty and inspected the jaguar at the foot, the dates carved into the sides. “Where is he?”

Garrett motioned across the street. “I’ve got to catch up to him. Let me know what you think, okay?”

Walter nodded and Garrett jogged across the street, his limp slowing him to a walk as he reached the shoulder of the road.

“Does it have any significance?” Liberty asked.

Walter winked. “Just a little.”

“Such as?”

Walter gazed into the mouthpiece and checked the airway. “It’s in perfect condition.”

Liberty placed her hands on her hips. “Give it back or start talking.”

Walter traced the jaguar image. “See this?”

Liberty nodded.

“Tezcatlipoca,” Walter said, tracing the head, back and legs.

“The jaguar god.”

Walter nodded.

“What makes it special?”

Walter propped himself on the guardrail, ankles crossed in front of him. “Each year the Aztecs took part in a feast to celebrate Tezcatlipoca. On the day of the feast, a specially prepared young man would climb the steps to the temple, willingly, to be sacrificed to the god.”

“The Festival of Toxcatl.” Liberty said.

Walter nodded. “You know your history.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I was kind of born into it.”

“During the celebration, another young man would be chosen to become the sacrificial victim the next year. He had to be the best looking, most intelligent, skilled flute-player in the city.”

“You think this flute belonged a man who gave himself up to his pagan gods?”

“No, it belonged to a man who had planned to give himself up.”

Liberty took the flute and examined it, running her fingers over the images. “What do you mean?”

“The man would parade around the city pretending to be Tezcatlipoca for an entire year. The people worshiped him, thronged to his music. He lived as the most noble of royalty for he represented their god in human form.”

“Did they believe the flute gave him special powers or something?” Liberty asked.

Walter shrugged. “They may have believed that was the case. I only know that on the day of the celebration, the man would take all his flutes and break them on the temple steps as he climbed to his death. No exception.”

“The last one didn’t die,” Liberty said.

Walter nodded. “The Spaniards wouldn’t have allowed it. Whoever was acting as Tezcatlipoca at that time, continued. His flutes, at least this one, survived, which is one of the rarest archeological finds I believe we’ll ever live to see.”

Liberty handed the flute to her father and pulled out her camera. After several photographs, she asked, “Why do you think they brought it north with the treasure?”

Walter shrugged. “I have no idea, but it makes me awfully curious about the rest of the artifacts. Were they all religious in nature or were they comprised of their most valuable objects just to keep them from the greedy Spaniards?”

Liberty put her camera away and turned around, examining the rock. “Okay, check out those five symbols right there.” She pointed to the hillside and Walter turned, handing the flute back. He stepped over the guardrail and pressed his face to the fence.

“Those are Mayan glyphs.”

“That’s what I thought.” Liberty took her camera out of the bag and tucked the flute inside. She began photographing the glyphs, changed the settings on her camera and began again. “Do you know what they mean?”

Walter let go of the fence and moved to another angle. “I never really researched Mayan writing. In some cases it’s very similar to the Aztec’s, but the Aztecs were generally more elaborate.”

“Any similarities there?” she asked.

Walter squinted. “A couple look similar to the Venus glyph.”

Liberty took in the rest of the petroglyphs on the hillside. “Didn’t the Aztecs use Venus as their day marker?”

Walter nodded. “So did the Mayans and the Fremont Indians.”

“Then the evidence that the Fremont Indians were influenced by the Mesoamerican culture is carved in stone?” she joked.

Walter chuckled. “Something like that.” He paced beside the fence, inspecting the carvings. “I can’t believe I’ve missed so much of this before.”

“Sometimes we overlook those things we live closest to.”

Walter nodded. “Yeah. You see Garrett anywhere?”

Liberty scanned the opposite hillside, a road’s width away. “No, but he couldn’t have gone far.”

“Unless Corey’s given him trouble.”

Liberty hung her camera over her neck. “I think I’ll go check on them.”

“Good idea. Holler if you need me.”

Liberty stepped over the guardrail and moved quickly across the road, though no cars were within sight.

“Garrett?” Her voice echoed between the cliffs in the narrow gap, but Garrett didn’t answer. “Garrett?”

A car passed. A woman with black hair sat behind the wheel, her gaze to her right in conversation with a passenger couldn’t see. Liberty wrinkled her forehead.

“Corey? Garrett?”

“Nothing?” Walter asked behind her.

Liberty jumped. “I didn’t hear you.”

He chuckled. “Let’s hope Garrett’s not so lost in thought, or he’ll never hear us either. Search to your left, I’ll get this end.” Walter headed to the right without waiting for a response.

Liberty checked the road again. The car had long disappeared from sight and no others appeared. She turned back to the hillside and picked out a faint trail, following it until the shadows from the cliff engulfed her. She wrapped her arms around her chest and stopped.

“Garrett?”

“Up here,” he called, waving his arm.

Liberty picked up her step, climbing up the smooth sandstone.

Garrett sat on the ground, his hands working at the bandage she’d used on his thigh the night before. A fresh pool of blood saturated the bandage and Liberty’s heart leapt.

“You okay?”

He nodded, touching the bandage gingerly. “That’s a beautiful shade of red, don’t you think?”

She glared at him.

Garrett shrugged before scanning the hillside. “You seen Corey?”

Liberty shook her head. “You never caught up to him?”

He finished retying the bandage and stood, testing his weight.

“He passed through that crevice up there.” He pointed before resuming his climb.

“Did you talk to him?”

“I saw him and called to him, but I don’t know if he heard,” Garrett said over his shoulder as he reached the crevice and searched inside.

She was waiting for him when he emerged alone. “Think he’s already headed back to the car?”

They rounded the cliff and the land stretched out in rolling hills before them, the road snaking between them before heading into the valley west of Cedar City.

“He came this way?” Liberty asked.

Garrett nodded. “Toward the road. My guess is he’ll walk the shoulder until he can hitch a ride out of here. He still thinks we’re out to get him, and he’s putting that treasure before Maddy’s life. It’s not like him.”

Her heartbeat spiked. “You don’t think he got into that last car, do you?”

Garrett stopped walking. “When?”

She tried to calculate the time but really hadn’t paid enough attention. “Ten minutes ago, I guess. There was a dark haired woman and a passenger, but I didn’t see the passenger.”

Garrett kicked at the ground and winced. “I thought we’d be safe enough up in here. I thought we could earn his trust enough to take him right to the hospital.”

Liberty placed a hand on his. “It’s not your fault, Garrett.”

He pulled away and nearly ran to the asphalt. He checked both directions before clasping his hands behind his head and raising his face to the sky. “If it wasn’t for Maddy, right now, I’d walk away.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

Garrett dropped his hands to his side, shoulders sagging. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do. You couldn’t walk away now because you’re too good a friend.”

Reclamation - Chapter 55

2010-04-14T06:24:00.000-07:00

Liberty examined the flute, each detail intricate in its meaning and beauty. “Corey found this in the cave?” she asked.

Garrett nodded.

“Why didn’t he show it to us until now?”

Walter took it from Liberty and inspected the jaguar at the foot, the dates carved into the sides. “Where is he?”

Garrett motioned across the street. “I’ve got to catch up to him. Let me know what you think, okay?”

Walter nodded and Garrett jogged across the street, his limp slowing him to a walk as he reached the shoulder of the road.

“Does it have any significance?” Liberty asked.

Walter winked. “Just a little.”

“Such as?”

Walter gazed into the mouthpiece and checked the airway. “It’s in perfect condition.”

Liberty placed her hands on her hips. “Give it back or start talking.”

Walter traced the jaguar image. “See this?”

Liberty nodded.

“Tezcatlipoca,” Walter said, tracing the head, back and legs.

“The jaguar god.”

Walter nodded.

“What makes it special?”

“The Festival of Toxcatl.” Liberty said.

Walter nodded. “You know your history.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I was kind of born into it.”

“During the celebration, another young man would be chosen to become the sacrificial victim the next year. He had to be the best looking, most intelligent, skilled flute-player in the city.”

“You think this flute belonged a man who gave himself up to his pagan gods?”

“No, it belonged to a man who had planned to give himself up.”

Liberty took the flute and examined it, running her fingers over the images. “What do you mean?”

“Did they believe the flute gave him special powers or something?” Liberty asked.

“The last one didn’t die,” Liberty said.

Liberty handed the flute to her father and pulled out her camera. After several photographs, she asked, “Why do you think they brought it north with the treasure?”

“Those are Mayan glyphs.”

Walter let go of the fence and moved to another angle. “I never really researched Mayan writing. In some cases it’s very similar to the Aztec’s, but the Aztecs were generally more elaborate.”

“Any similarities there?” she asked.

Walter squinted. “A couple look similar to the Venus glyph.”

Liberty took in the rest of the petroglyphs on the hillside. “Didn’t the Aztecs use Venus as their day marker?”

Walter nodded. “So did the Mayans and the Fremont Indians.”

“Then the evidence that the Fremont Indians were influenced by the Mesoamerican culture is carved in stone?” she joked.

Walter chuckled. “Something like that.” He paced beside the fence, inspecting the carvings. “I can’t believe I’ve missed so much of this before.”

“Sometimes we overlook those things we live closest to.”

Walter nodded. “Yeah. You see Garrett anywhere?”

Liberty scanned the opposite hillside, a road’s width away. “No, but he couldn’t have gone far.”

“Unless Corey’s given him trouble.”

Liberty hung her camera over her neck. “I think I’ll go check on them.”

“Good idea. Holler if you need me.”

Liberty stepped over the guardrail and moved quickly across the road, though no cars were within sight.

“Garrett?” Her voice echoed between the cliffs in the narrow gap, but Garrett didn’t answer. “Garrett?”

A car passed. A woman with black hair sat behind the wheel, her gaze to her right in conversation with a passenger couldn’t see. Liberty wrinkled her forehead.

“Corey? Garrett?”

“Nothing?” Walter asked behind her.

Liberty jumped. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Garrett?”

“Up here,” he called, waving his arm.

Liberty picked up her step, climbing up the smooth sandstone.

Garrett sat on the ground, his hands working at the bandage she’d used on his thigh the night before. A fresh pool of blood saturated the bandage and Liberty’s heart leapt.

“You okay?”

He nodded, touching the bandage gingerly. “That’s a beautiful shade of red, don’t you think?”

She glared at him.

Garrett shrugged before scanning the hillside. “You seen Corey?”

Liberty shook her head. “You never caught up to him?”

He finished retying the bandage and stood, testing his weight.

“He passed through that crevice up there.” He pointed before resuming his climb.

“Did you talk to him?”

“I saw him and called to him, but I don’t know if he heard,” Garrett said over his shoulder as he reached the crevice and searched inside.

She was waiting for him when he emerged alone. “Think he’s already headed back to the car?”

They rounded the cliff and the land stretched out in rolling hills before them, the road snaking between them before heading into the valley west of Cedar City.

“He came this way?” Liberty asked.

Her heartbeat spiked. “You don’t think he got into that last car, do you?”

Garrett stopped walking. “When?”

She tried to calculate the time but really hadn’t paid enough attention. “Ten minutes ago, I guess. There was a dark haired woman and a passenger, but I didn’t see the passenger.”

Garrett kicked at the ground and winced. “I thought we’d be safe enough up in here. I thought we could earn his trust enough to take him right to the hospital.”

Liberty placed a hand on his. “It’s not your fault, Garrett.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

Garrett dropped his hands to his side, shoulders sagging. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do. You couldn’t walk away now because you’re too good a friend.”

Reclamation - Chapter 54

2010-04-14T06:21:00.000-07:00

Garrett paused at the top of the hill, staring down at Liberty’s Jeep, their transportation out of this nightmare. “Lib?”

She hurried to his side, Walter and Corey close behind.

“How many spares do you have?” Liberty clutched the strap to her camera bag with both hands as the flat tires registered.

“Not enough,” she finally managed.

“Corey, how far to your car?” Garrett asked.

He pointed up the road. “Half a mile?”

“Let’s grab whatever we’re going to need and head out then,” Walter said, rushing down the hill to the Jeep.

“We’ll come back for it when this is over,” Garrett said.

Liberty set out after her father. “The flats are worth the photos I’ve got, but not worth Maddy’s life. Let’s get moving.”

Corey followed several steps behind, keeping his distance while they pulled out the briefcases, notebooks and a small cooler. Twenty minutes later, Garrett shifted Corey’s car into reverse and pulled out onto the highway.

“Where to?” he asked.

Corey pulled the codex from his backpack and flipped through several pages, his hands trembling. Garrett checked his rearview, catching Liberty’s nod.

“I need the last page,” Corey said.

“Where are we now?” Garrett asked.

Corey pointed to images resembling the petroglyphs they’d seen on the cliffs the night before. Garrett touched a circle with intricate engravings within its borders on the next page. “What’s this?”

Corey cleared his throat several times. “It’s a place of records. No depository there.”

Garrett emerged from the canyon and checked his cell phone, his signal was growing. “Call her.”

“Maddy?” Corey asked.

Garrett nodded. “We’ve got to stall Angelo.”

Corey dialed his wife’s number and held the phone by his ear, slowly closing it seconds later. “Nothing.”

“No answer or out of service?” Garrett asked.

“It didn’t even ring, just transferred right to her voicemail.”

Liberty leaned forward, her elbow on the back of the driver’s seat. “You’ve got to try her back in a little while.”

Corey nodded, staring at the blank display.

Garrett motioned to the codex and turned right onto Main Street in Parowan. “How do you know about that location?” Garrett asked.

“I’ve seen it.”

“Where is it?” Liberty asked.

“Parowan Gap.”

“Those are Fremont carvings,” Walter said.

Corey shook his head. “Not all of them.”

“You’re sure?” Garrett asked.

Corey folded the codex. “Let’s say this record doesn’t exist, that I didn’t see the Aztec warriors leaving their mark on the rocks. We’ll try a little common sense instead.”

“Okay,” Garrett said. “Give it to me.”

“Fremont Indians inhabited the area from 700 to 1250 A.D. This is the time most of the carvings took place.”

“Three hundred years before the Aztecs left Tenochtitlan,” Walter said.

Corey nodded. “The Fremont traded turquoise with people in Mexico as early as the 800s. They had established trade routes directly through Parowan Gap, through Nevada, where the turquoise was mined, and into the heart of Mexico, Aztec country.”

“How does this relate to our hunt?” Walter asked.

“We’re establishing the Aztec presence in Parowan Gap,” Garrett said.

Corey glared at them both before continuing. “In addition to trading precious stones, they exchanged information. Did you know that Parowan Gap has been hailed as nature’s perfect observatory?”

“Of course,” Walter said. “I’ve lived in Cedar most of my life.”

Garrett crossed under the freeway, not another car in sight.

“The Aztecs spent years devising a calendar, which they called Tonalpohualli. Do you know how many days were in their sacred calendar?”

Walter leaned forward. “Two hundred sixty.”

“The Mayans also had a 260 day calendar,” Corey said.

“The Fremont calendar in the Gap is 260 days,” Walter said.

Corey nodded. “They were all experts in astronomy, so would have had a common thread to discuss while on their trading expeditions.”

“So you think the Fremont Indians got their calendar from the Mayans or the Aztecs?” Liberty asked.

Corey shrugged. “Or the other way around. Either way it’s all connected.”

“Why would the Aztecs come here though, when fleeing Tenochtitlan with their gold?” Garrett asked.

Walter jumped in. “Astronomy was a part of who they were. The calendar days dictated which gods were in control on which days and how the Aztecs were to behave on those days. Everything in their lives revolved around the gods and day counting.”

Walter cleared his throat and continued, “So I’m guessing that they’d lost that sense of time, that sophisticated calendar they left behind and they were searching for another means to record the seasons and the reign of the gods.”

“There’s another connection,” Corey said.

Fields flanked the road, farms and ranches stretching out on either side.

“The Fremonts believed their race emerged from the underworld through a cave. Nearby a likeness of their god, Tobats, was discovered.” Corey opened the codex and pointed to the profile of the man. “It’s a rock formation, and it looks just like that.”

“The Aztecs wouldn’t worship another people’s god,” Walter argued.

Garrett’s cell signal faded and he debated whether or not to turn around. Liberty leaned forward. “When we get done at the Gap, could you pull over when we get cell service again? I’ve got to make a call.”

Garrett nodded, catching her smile in the mirror. “Definitely.”

Corey’s head jerked around. “Who are you calling?”

“Work,” she lied. “I need to arrange for a few more days off.”

“How does Tobats tie into your theory?”

Corey looked from Garrett to Liberty and back. “The Aztecs were searching for their god Quetzalcoatl. It was time for him to reign again. Maybe they thought Tobats was the key.”

“So you’ve convinced me,” Garrett said. “How’d you learn all that?”

Corey cleared his throat. “Research.”

“I’m impressed.” Garrett left the fields and entered a winding canyon, sloping hillsides on either side of the road. They were close.

“So where’s the last page?” Corey asked.

“We’ve got several more pages before the ripped one, have you figured them out yet?”

Corey shook his head. “It looks like there may be one more depository here, near the Gap, but then the trail heads south and the rip …”

Garrett pulled into a dirt parking lot next to a fenced off cliff. “We’re here.”

Corey replaced the codex, zipping it away in his backpack. “Do you trust me, Garrett?”

Garrett nodded. “You’re my best friend.”

“I’m only trying to do what’s best.”

“I know.”

Corey climbed out of the passenger seat, but didn’t shut the door right away. His hands trembled on the straps of his backpack and his jaw clenched and unclenched until he finally began to speak. “Do you think she’s okay?”

Garrett closed his door and leaned his elbows on the roof of the car. “I think they’ll take care of her enough to make good on a trade.”

“But she didn’t answer her phone. Nobody did.”

“She may have lost her signal, or her battery.”

Walter and Liberty wandered to the fence, searching the glyphs.

“I never wanted anything to happen to her.”

“I know, and I’m going to do whatever I can to help you get her back.” Garrett pushed a hand through his hair. “Angelo did seem pretty insistent on getting that medallion. I doubt he’ll cut off communication altogether.”

“Yeah. We’ll hear from them soon.” Corey shut the door and headed for the road that stretched through the gap. “I’m going to check out a site over there by the cave.”

Garrett nodded. “I’ll come with you. We’ve got 30 minutes, then we’ve got to get to cell service to try Maddy’s phone again.”

Corey nodded, his eyes downcast. “Garrett?”

“Yeah?”

“I found one other thing in that cave back there.” Corey unzipped his backpack and pulled out a stone flute. “Maybe you can have Walter check it out, see if it’s got any significance.”

Garrett took the flute, inspecting the details. “Amazing.”

Corey nodded. “That’s what I thought the first time I saw it, but I’m not the historian Walter is.”

Garrett nodded. “I’ll take it to him now. I’ll meet you across the road in a few minutes.”

Corey started away.

Reclamation - Chapter 53

2010-04-05T21:18:00.000-07:00

Maddy struggled against her binds, scooting backward, the ground cutting into her hands and wrists. The growl that had just come from that woman’s throat had turned into some high pitch snarl, more animal than human -- like a cougar or panther before an attack. Now Angelo lay unmoving on the ground and Maddy was pretty sure he was dead.

Not that she grieved his demise, she just worried that she’d been taken from a bad situation and put in a worse one. Her hands ached and her head swam. The woman turned to her, dark eyes piercing in a flawless face. She was beautiful, Maddy decided, terrifyingly pretty.

Maddy bit down on the gag, her throat burning and lips raw.

The woman glanced back at Angelo’s still form. “Hombre estúpido,” she whispered.

Was she the boss?

She pulled the gag from Maddy’s mouth and she swallowed hard, wetting her throat.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Maddy Walsh.” Her voice croaked.

“Corey’s wife.”

Maddy nodded.

“I thought so.”

“Who are you?” Maddy asked.

“Zyanya.” She pulled a knife from her pocket and cut the ropes on Maddy’s wrists. Maddy stared at the woman as she rubbed the marks on her arms. They’d been rubbed raw and had swollen in the time she’d been tied up in that dreaded trunk.

Zyanya fumbled in the trunk of her own car, eventually emerging with a bottle of water. She handed it to Maddy and sat opposite.

“Thank you,” Maddy said, lifting the bottle to her lips.

Zyanya cocked her head, watching Maddy drain the bottle. “How long’s he had you in there?”

Maddy handed the empty container back. “A day? I’m really not sure.”

“What else do you need?”

“A bathroom break,” Maddy said.

Zyanya cut the binds on her ankles and sent her into the woods with a handful of napkins from the glove box.

Maddy stumbled behind a bush, her legs weighted and stiff. She could run, but the woman had shown no threats to her. She’d killed her captor and cut her free. Maybe she wasn’t the bad guy after all.

Maddy wiped her hands on one of the napkins and returned to the vehicles. Maybe this woman would let her drive away. She could go back to her mother’s and call the police, tell them where to find the body of her kidnapper.

Maddy’s left foot caught on a root and she sprawled across the ground. She pushed herself up, grasping a branch to hold her upright. The trees spun, the ground coming at her. She held onto the tree tighter, moving slowly forward, emerging from the woods, but afraid to leave the handholds that kept her standing.

Her arms fatigued and she lost her grip on the branch to her right. She stumbled forward, rushing to a car in the clearing. She barely made it to the hood before she collapsed on it, her hands bracing her as she fell to the glossy surface.

Maddy pushed herself up, staring through the windshield at a man she’d never seen before, his head lulled to the side as if sleeping. She tried to hit the window, but her arms failed her as she slipped from the hood of the car to the ground.

Zyanya caught her under her arms, helping her stand. “You’re not feeling so well,” she said.

Maddy shook her head, unable to speak. Was it shock? She closed her eyes trying to walk, to help Zyanya carry her weight. When the woman finally settled her onto a flat surface, Maddy relaxed, curling up in a ball to rest. She’d be fine in a few moments, she told herself. She just had to process everything that had happened in the last few days.

“Zy?” she slurred.

The woman didn’t respond and Maddy opened her eyes. The man who’d been in the driver’s seat of the shiny car now lay on the ground a few feet away. Dead, she decided, if the little round hole in his forehead was any indication. Yes, the man was definitely dead. She tried to speak again, but her lips wouldn’t move and her eyelids grew heavy.

Zyanya stepped in front of her, staring down with emptiness in her dark eyes. She wasn’t a good guy. She was bad all the way through.

“Buenas noches, Maddy,” Zyanya said softy, reaching toward the sky and grasping something heavy, something dark and familiar.

As Zyanya closed the trunk, Maddy realized she’d been rescued from one maniac only to be placed in the arms of another.

Reclamation - Chapter 52

2010-04-03T13:58:00.000-07:00

The sun streaked across the sky as Angelo stared through the sights of his assault rifle. Nothing moved in the meadow below, but still he waited, knowing they would have to leave the cave eventually.

He lowered the rifle and rubbed his eyes. It had been a long night and he’d only left his post once to check on Corey’s wife. He hadn’t slept a moment and he felt it. Angelo rubbed the back of his neck and yawned. He was definitely going to demand a bonus.

Rocks rattled in the valley. Angelo threw up his rifle and adjusted his scope. Nothing moved. He continued to scan left to right, right to left, waiting for the noise once more, for voices, movement, anything.

More rocks tumbled. Angelo swung his rifle to the left and caught the top of a graying head in his scope. It disappeared just as quickly. Neither Corey nor Garrett had gray hair and the woman certainly didn’t either. Besides, it had appeared too far from the cave to be connected with the others. It had to be an animal.

Angelo stifled a groan and lowered his weapon. He didn’t need any witnesses. This entire job had already become more complicated than he’d ever imagined. He swung his rifle back to the cave. Perhaps they still slept. He wondered again if he might be able to sneak up to the cave and open fire before they could respond, but he knew somehow they had it covered. The best option was patience.

Hadn’t patience been drilled into him at school? Why was it such a difficult principle to live then? He could have killed them both earlier if he’d waited for a clear shot before pulling the trigger that first time. Patience; perhaps it would be easier with a few minutes sleep. Angelo took a deep breath and closed his eyes, resting for just a moment.

A thump roused him, a groan following. He turned toward his car and cursed. Maddy tugged at her gag from where she lay near the open trunk. Angelo cast one more look around the meadow and rushed to his car.

The gag muffled her scream as Angelo neared, her tied wrists making it difficult to get the thing off. His knot had also held around her ankles, but she’d still find a way to attract attention if she wanted it badly enough.

Angelo threw his gun on the front seat of the car and grabbed Maddy from behind, stilling her. He placed his lips close to her ear. “You will not be allowed to escape.”

Maddy thrashed against him, her head knocking him in the side of the face. He placed his hand over her mouth and held her still. “I need you to be a good girl, okay?”

She tried to shake her head, but he held her against him too tightly, wondering whether or not to kill her now. Not now, he decided, not until after the medallion.

“I’m going to remove this gag for a few minutes, but you’ve got to promise you’ll stay calm.”

Maddy nodded, relaxing.

Angelo moved in front of her, holding a shoulder in each hand. “You’ll cooperate?”

She nodded again.

Angelo lowered her gag. “Scream and I’ll shoot you.”

“I need a drink,” she said, her voice hoarse.

Angelo pulled a water bottle from his backpack and unscrewed the lid. “One drink. Anything else?”

“Let me go.”

He shook his head. “No.”

Angelo raised the bottle and let it trickle into Maddy’s mouth and down her chin. She swallowed savagely, gasping and coughing. He capped the bottle. “Back in the trunk.”

“Not yet. Please give me a few more minutes.”

Angelo replaced the gag. “We’re on a schedule, Maddy.”

She shook her head, dark curls bouncing against her cheeks. She tried to speak, her voice muffled by the bandana.

Angelo led her back to the car, hopping because of the binds about her ankles. She shook her head, trying to speak beyond the gag. As he pushed her toward the gaping trunk, tires ground on the gravel behind him. He froze.

Maddy kicked her legs outside the trunk, struggling to regain her feet. He pulled her against him. He could throw Maddy in the trunk and run for the driver’s seat. In all likelihood he could get away without the intruder getting a clean look at his face. Sure, they’d get the license number, but it wasn’t registered to him anyway.

Angelo shoved Maddy toward the trunk, but she spun away from him, falling to the ground.

He could still get away if he left the woman behind, he realized. Angelo ran for the door, pulled it open and stopped when a voice called out to him. “La bruja está aquí.”

Angelo turned, his heart pounding and hands sweating. The woman who stood before him had raven black hair to her waist, a perfect Aztec profile and a power about her that made him unable to flee. He backed away from the car.

“Who are you?” Angelo asked.

She flicked her hair behind her back and raised her hand, pointing directly at his chest. “My name is Zyanya. I’ve come to claim my inheritance from Tonantzin.”

“The medallion,” he whispered.

Zyanya nodded.

Angelo pointed behind him, to the meadow and the cave where Corey hid. “It’s there. Corey’s hiding in a cave back there.”

Zyanya peered at him under lowered lashes. “You haven’t retrieved it.”

He shook his head, unable to speak.

“You are worthless to me now.”

Angelo stumbled backward, finally turning to run before he collapsed on the ground clutching his chest.

Reclamation - Chapter 51

2010-04-02T05:02:00.000-07:00

Rocks tumbled into the cave, echoing off the walls. Garrett sat up abruptly, his back throbbing and his left leg numb. He reached down to massage the blood back into his leg and his fingers entangled in Liberty’s silky hair.

Corey stirred beside him, sending him a signal to be quiet that Garrett could barely see in the darkness. He placed a protective arm around Liberty’s shoulder and waited as footsteps sounded inside the cave.

A pistol cocked and Garrett’s grip tightened on Liberty’s shoulder. She wriggled free, stretching. Garrett pulled her into his arms and whispered in her ear to be still. She calmed immediately, eyes riveted on the cave entrance.

The light clicked on, illuminated the floor of the cave, but Corey and the intruder remained just out of sight.

“I’ve got a gun,” Corey said.

Garrett pushed to his feet, needles shooting through his entire leg as the blood began to circulate. Liberty grabbed his arm. “Be careful,” she whispered.

“My name is Walter Teague.”

Garrett relaxed against the cave wall and Liberty ran to her father. “It’s okay. He’s my father,” she told Corey.

They returned to the small alcove but Corey remained standing, keeping one eye on the three of them and the other on the entrance. “You the one who wrote all those books?” Corey asked.

“Many years ago,” Walter said.

“So you know where the treasure is?”

Walter shook his head. “I thought I did a time or two, but nothing ever showed up.”

“What help are you then?” Corey asked.

Walter chuckled. “Not much, but together, I think we could figure it out.”

“You want the codex.”

“I’d like to look at it.”

Corey snorted and shook his head.

“But not right now. First we’ve got to find a way out of here.”

“There’s another entrance,” Liberty said.

“Where?”

Liberty shrugged. “We don’t exactly know.”

“Then how …”

Liberty handed him the journal and Corey flashed the light over the mummies.

Walter’s eyes widened. “The gold?”

“Gone,” Corey said.

“Still, this is proof.”

Liberty nodded. “You were right.”

“I had convinced myself it wasn’t true,” Walter whispered, peering in vain at the pages as the light waned.

“If we put it all together, we could make this work,” Walter said.”

“Put what together?” Corey asked suspiciously.

“The codex,” Walter said, distracted.

“You have the last page of the codex?” Corey asked.

Garrett exchanged a glance with Walter. “It’s safe.”

“I want it back.”

“Later,” Garrett said. “We’ve got to find Maddy now, not the treasure.”

Corey shuffled his feet, his eyes darting from Walter to Garrett. “With the treasure, we can buy back Maddy. Besides, the treasure’s got to be worth more than one stupid medallion.”

“Then trade the medallion for Maddy and we’ll help you find the treasure once your wife is safe,” Liberty said.

Corey shook his head. “I can’t do it. I can’t give it away until I find the treasure.”

Liberty stood and moved toward him. “Corey, what is it about the medallion you can’t give up?”

“Don’t talk down to me,” he snapped.

Liberty halted.

“They always talk down to me, but it’s going to end.”

Walter raised a hand for silence. “I’ve got a plan.”

Corey began pacing.

“If we can get to a phone, we can call the man …”

“Angelo,” Corey interrupted. “He said his name’s Angelo.”

“We can call Angelo and arrange a meeting, only we’ll make sure we have enough time to check one more location for the treasure first. We give him the medallion in exchange for Maddy and if there’s any resistance, we throw in a bonus to satiate him.”

Garrett raised an eyebrow at the plan, but Walter hushed him with a single look.

“No.”

“Why not?” Walter asked.

“Because … because I don’t trust you and you know what? I don’t trust Garrett either.” Corey pointed at Walter, the flashlight trembling in his hand.

Liberty trained her gaze on Corey. “What about me?”

Corey looked away. “I don’t know yet.”

“I can tell you one thing I’ve learned from watching television,” Liberty said. “The longer someone’s been abducted, the less likely it is they’ll be rescued safely.”

“The first 24 hours are critical,” Corey said.

Liberty checked her watch. “It’s been more than 12.”

“We’ve only got 12 left,” Corey mumbled.

“Not if we don’t get out of here. That gunman will find us in less than three, as soon as it gets light out,” Walter said.

Corey nodded.

“But we have to give him hope, as soon as we can get cell service, that we’re going to go through with the deal. That way he’ll take care of Maddy a while longer.”

Corey headed deeper into the cave, leaving the three of them in darkness.

Walter stood. “I’m going to help him find another way out.”

Their scuffing steps faded into the darkness and the light disappeared.

“Corey needs help, Garrett,” Liberty said, sitting beside him once more.

The sun began to rise and a circle glowed on the dusty floor.

“Why’d you take the photos, Lib?”

She shrugged but didn’t flinch away. “I didn’t see him at first. I thought it was just you and Corey, arguing.”

He didn’t know how to respond so he sat, staring into the dark recesses of the cave, Liberty’s body heat warming his side.

“When I realized what had happened, I was sick, Garrett. I wanted to help but there was no way to get to you or even to get to anyone else before you could get him out,” her voice faded as she moved closer, her fingers interlacing with his.

He turned to her and his heartbeat quickened. She was a good person and he knew she would have helped. It was just that the photos had brought it all back. He lifted his free hand and stroked her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

“I believe you,” he said.

Liberty’s lips parted and before he could think, they pressed to his. Soft and warm, he leaned into her and deepened the kiss.

He hardly knew this girl, he reasoned. What was he doing? He broke away but didn’t release her hand.

“I’m sorry. Again,” she said.

He chuckled. “I’m not.”

She relaxed beside him and said, “You’re a good friend.”

“If I was a good friend I’d have stood up for him when we were kids.”

“I can’t help but think he was seeing a little more than you, even back then.”

Garrett stretched out his legs, the pain in the bullet wound a dull throb. “That’s what I keep telling myself, but I still have trouble believing it.”

“What about Maddy? The medallion?” Liberty asked.

“We’ve got to make the trade. Maybe when the ambulance comes we can get a hold of the medallion. Until then, we’ve got to let Corey think we’re all together on this.”

Liberty nodded, staring at their hands, fingers entwined. “I guess we’ll be leaving soon. I better take some photos while I’ve got the chance.”

Garrett released her slowly, her fingers slipping away. “Liberty?”

She turned back, her camera balanced in one hand.

“Even though there’s no treasure here, it’s quite a discovery. You could really make a name for yourself.”

Liberty pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and nodded. “I’ve never been so close to my goal.”

Footsteps sounded in the cave and Walter emerged. Corey followed with the light no more than a dull glow. “We found it.”

Reclamation - Chapter 50

2010-03-31T06:08:00.000-07:00

Flesh clung to the ancient bones, stretching from cheekbone to chin, nearly transparent in some areas and darkly discolored in others.

“They’re real Aztecs,” Liberty said, removing her camera from her bag.

Garrett reclined against the wall, his thigh throbbing, but at least the moment of shock had passed. “It’ll be lighter in the morning. You might as well wait for your photos.”

Liberty snapped several shots. “I’ll take more then.”

Corey flashed the light across the rest of the bodies, each of them preserved as the first. “Mummies,” he said.

Garrett nodded. “But no gold.”

Corey pulled a leather bound book from his backpack. “Not anymore anyway.”

Garrett took the book and Corey’s flashlight. The pages of the journal were yellowed, some of the ink faded and illegible.

“Skip to the end,” Corey said.

Garrett rifled through the pages until he reached the final entry. “The others are gone. I’m alone now, but I’ve found it. The value of this find is insurmountable, yet it compares little to the lives of my colleagues.

“I suppose we will all die in vain, never bringing these wonders to the civilized world. Even now I can hear the savages coming, removing the stones that block the back entrance to this cave.”

“Back entrance?” Liberty asked.

Corey motioned opposite the hole they’d climbed through earlier.

Garrett continued. “I suppose the last service I can offer while yet in this life is a catalogue of the items currently in my possession.”

“Has he listed it all?” Liberty asked, reaching for the book.

Garrett relinquished it, passing her the light as well.

“Three golden armbands, seven gold bars in excess of 20 pounds each, silver trinkets too numerous to list …” her voice faded. Liberty set the book on the ground and photographed the page, her flash filling the cavern and blinding Garrett.

Corey turned his back on her. “I told you it was real, Garrett, but you wouldn’t believe me.”

Garrett raked his hand through his hair. “I believe you now, Corey, but we have Maddy to think about first.”

“Why Maddy?”

“Because she’s been abducted.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Garrett nodded. “That man who was shooting at us earlier, I’m pretty sure he’s the one who’s got her.”

Corey sat beside Garrett, resting his forearms on his knees as the reality hit him. “How did it happen?”

Garrett chewed on his bottom lip before answering. “He called, pretending to be a cop, told her your house had been robbed and she needed to fill out a statement.”

“So she went, alone?”

Garrett nodded. “According to her mother.”

Corey ducked his face, resting his forehead on his arms. “She told me she was in trouble. She begged me for help but I didn’t believe her.”

“Maddy called you?” Liberty asked, joining them, the journal tucked beneath one arm.

Corey stared up at Liberty, really seeing her for the first time since they entered the cave. His eyes widened and he began to stutter. “Sh-she said he wanted the medallion.”

“Who?” Garrett asked.

“The man who had her. She said he would hurt her if he didn’t get it.”

“Where were you supposed to meet?”

“Meet?” Corey looked confused, his eyes bouncing between Garrett and Liberty.

“To turn over the medallion,” Garrett said.

Corey shook his head, scrambled to his feet and began pacing. Garrett struggled to his own feet, wincing as he put weight on his right leg.

“We didn’t get that far,” Corey said.

“Why? What happened?”

Corey threw his hands in the air. “Maddy was going to lock me up. She just wanted me to come home so she could take me to the hospital, but then he came on the line and said it was the medallion or my wife.”

Garrett placed a hand on Corey’s shoulder, stilling him. “Which did you choose, Corey?”

He shook off Garrett’s hand. “Nothing is more important to me than my wife, but he hung up, just like that. He hung up and didn’t give me time to respond.”

Liberty pushed her hair behind her ear. “Did you call back?”

Corey swung his gaze to her as if he’d forgotten she was there. “No.”

Liberty pulled Garrett’s cell phone out of his shirt pocket. “Can we get reception up here?” She lit up the display before shoving the phone back in his pocket. “We’ve got to get to town.”

“Do you think she’s dead?” Corey asked.

Garrett draped his arm over Liberty’s shoulder for balance and shook his head. “I think he’s using her for leverage. As long as you’re alive and you have the medallion, I think Maddy will be okay.”

“Then we can’t give it to him,” Corey said.

Garrett shook his head. “I mean, we negotiate a trade.”

“The medallion for my wife,” Corey said.

Garrett nodded.

“No.”

Liberty cleared her throat, the sky entirely black outside the cave entrance now, the flashlight glowing inside. “We need to conserve the battery,” she said. “Let’s sit over here until morning.”

Garrett lowered himself to the ground and Liberty sat next to him, adjusting the torn t-shirt on his wound. Corey sat several feet away before Liberty shut off the light.

“Why not?” Garrett asked, his voice carrying throughout the darkness.

“Once he has the medallion, he’ll kill Maddy. He won’t fulfill his end of the bargain.”

“Not if we get Maddy first, then turn over the medallion,” Garrett said.

“He won’t go for it.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t you ever watch TV? Bad guys always call the shots.”

“This isn’t TV.”

Liberty placed her hand on Garrett’s good leg and leaned close to his ear. “Shhh.”

Her breath tickled his neck, but he complied.

“Did you scout out the cave much before we got here?” Liberty asked, voice growing softer but still carrying far into the black recesses and bouncing back.

Corey stretched his legs, scuffing across stone. “It goes back another 30 feet.”

“Did you find any indication of a back entrance, like it says in this journal?”

“Not yet.”

“If we could find it, we could actually get out of here tonight,” Liberty said.

Garrett took her hand, pulling her back against him, cradling her with one arm. The partial embrace warmed him and he knew he had more than body heat to thank. “Even if we could get out of here tonight, we don’t want to be running around in the dark when there’s an armed assassin waiting for us.”

A rock tumbled across the floor. “He’s right,” Corey said.

Liberty snuggled closer to Garrett, warding off the cold canyon air. “Then we look for it first thing in the morning.”

“What about tonight?” Corey asked. “What if he comes for us before daylight?”

Liberty relaxed against Garrett and he wrapped his other arm around her protectively. “We take turns keeping watch, but he’ll have to come into the cave to even get a decent shot at us.”

Corey flicked on the flashlight and shone it around the cave, which curved above and to their right to hide them from the entrance entirely. Garrett shielded his eyes as Corey pointed it straight at the two of them.

“You didn’t sleep with Maddy, did you?”

Garrett shook his head.

“Ever?”

“I’ve never slept with your wife, Corey.”

Corey turned off the light.

Reclamation - Chapter 49

2010-03-30T20:58:00.000-07:00

Walter stopped on a rise, catching his breath.

“This it?” Garrett asked, searching the hillsides for petroglyphs and finding none.

Walter shook his head. “Not yet but we’re close.”

“You’re sure these are the same ones Corey has marked on his map?”

“They’ve got to be. I mean, they’re scattered all over up in here, but there are more in this single location than all the others put together.”

“You’re certain they’re Aztec?”

“Positive.” Walter checked the coordinates on his GPS and started off again. “The Aztecs were supposed to guard their treasure until they received word that their people had regained power.”

Garrett walked beside him stepping over stones so he wouldn’t have to add a sprained ankle to his other injuries.

“In some locations, like this one, I believe they settled for curses on the land.”

“I thought you said you didn’t believe in curses,” Liberty said.

“I did, but that doesn’t mean the Aztecs didn’t.”

“What makes you believe they cursed it?” Garrett asked.

Walter shrugged. “After a while, the Aztecs got tired of waiting and started to assimilate into the local Indian tribes.”

“So the tribes took over protection of the depositories,” Liberty added.

Walter nodded. “Most are still protected to this day.”

“By local Indian tribes?” Garrett asked.

Walter nodded again.

“How?”

“They scare off intruders or kill them when they get too close.”

Garrett walked alongside Walter. “Do you think there’s a depository up in here, or just more clues?”

“A depository.”

“Do we stand the risk of being shot then?” Liberty asked, placing her hand on Walter’s arm.

He nodded. “Probably.”

Garrett stopped but the affirmation didn’t deter Liberty so he caught up quickly.

As they topped another rise, Walter took a deep breath and stretched out his back. He pointed toward the highway and asked, “That Corey’s car?”

Garrett chuckled. “It sure is.”

“Then we’ll find him within the hour,” Walter said.

“Do you think this is it then, their big stash?”

Walter frowned. “No. It’s the wrong location.”

“How can you tell?”

“The Aztecs had a thing for mountains, thought they brought them closer to their gods. Did you know that’s why they built their temples as pyramids, to resemble mountains?”

Garrett scanned the hillsides. “We’re in the mountains.”

Walter shrugged. “Wrong mountains.”

“How do you know?” he asked.

Walter checked his GPS again. “I’ve done enough research to be fairly certain the major depository is located further to the south.”

“Then why are we here?” Garrett asked.

“To save Corey.”

Garrett marched on ahead. “I mean why did Corey come here?”

Walter pointed to a shear rock cliff. “It could be that it was as close as he could get without the last page in the codex, but we’ll have to ask him when we find him to be sure.”

Liberty rounded the cliff and slowed, her fingers trailing the petroglyphs above. “Found them.” She pulled out her camera and snapped several photos.

Garrett caught up to her and paused, intrigued by the shapes and the texture of the rock surrounding them. He’d have to get prints –- they turned out.

“They’re faint. Are they showing up okay in the pictures?” he asked.

She handed him the camera and he flipped through a couple of photos. They were good, better than he had anticipated. His curiosity over the other photos and the need to find Corey warred, but Walter was still rummaging, searching for the right pathway. He flipped to the next and his breath caught. The blood drained from his face and he clicked onto the next and the next, reliving the move painful day of his life in an instant.

“How did you get these?” he asked.

Liberty’s hands shook as she took the camera. “I’m sorry. I never meant …”

“You were there?” the pain edged into his voice despite his efforts to curb it.

Walter rushed past them and up a hillside. “I think I found Corey.”

Liberty repacked her camera but made no effort to follow her father. Her hand reached out instead, touching Garrett’s cheek. “I was too far away to help. I wanted to, but I couldn’t reach you.”

Garrett turned away and caught up with Walter in seconds. “Where?”

Walter pointed out a hillside opposite a lush meadow, the middle left having caved in.

“He’s in the mountain?” Liberty asked.

The rock immediately to her left shattered, dust scattering.

Garrett took off at a sprint, grabbing her arm and pulling her forward as another bullet lodged in the ground behind them.

The hillside Corey had dug out loomed in the distance and Garrett lunged behind a smaller mound, pulling Liberty after him. Bullets peppered the mound and Garrett held Liberty against him, hunkering out of range.

Dirt pelted them and Liberty coughed. “Is it Corey?” she asked.

Garrett dusted the debris from Liberty’s dark hair. “I don’t think so, but I could be wrong.”

“Why would he shoot at us?”

“Because he thinks we’re the enemy.”

“I would have helped if I could have gotten to you,” Liberty said.

Garrett didn’t move, his thoughts tumbling as his body in the river the day they’d lost Brice. “I know,” he said simply.

Liberty struggled to a low crouch. “What about my father?”

Garrett peered back the direction they’d come. Walter was nowhere in sight. “He’s probably hiding out until it’s safe.”

A bullet whizzed by Garrett’s ear and he dropped to the ground again, pulling Liberty with him. “We’ve got to get in there,” he motioned to the cave at the end of the meadow. “At least we’d have cover.”

“Can we make it?” Liberty asked.

A bullet hit the dirt inches from Garrett’s knee. “I don’t think we have a choice. Judging from these shots our shooter is gaining higher ground.”

“We’d be exposed until we slipped into the hole.”

Garrett nodded. “The climb would cost us time and make us easy targets.”

“But we could do it.”

The sun sank on the horizon, slowly but enough to send brilliant rays into the eyes of their shooter. “How fast can you run?” Garrett asked.

Liberty sprinted from the mound, her feet flying over the ground toward the cave before Garrett could say a word. Garrett cursed and took off after her.

As she began the ascent up the rocky hillside, Liberty slowed and Garrett caught up with her. The sun settled lower, the blinding rays blocked by the mountains. They would be visible again in this dusk. Garrett shoved Liberty upward and she nearly tumbled through the hole. Garrett scrambled after her, a pain ripping through his thigh as he swung into the darkened cave.

“Are you okay?” Liberty asked.

Garrett groaned. “I’ve never been so abused in my entire life. Now I’ve got a bullet through my leg.”

Liberty clutched Garrett’s arm and helped him to the cave floor. She crouched beside him and ran her hands down his torso to his right leg. “Found it.”

Garrett squinted, seeing Liberty’s silhouette, but no details. “Can you see much of it?”

Liberty pulled her hands away. “It’s bleeding.”

Garrett lay back on the floor. “That’s a good thing, right? Means it’ll wash out all the debris?”

Liberty stood and moved around the cave, her feet scuffing as she walked. “I wish I had a light.”

Garrett sat back up, cringing as blood pooled in his jeans, warming his outer thigh. He ran his hand over the wound, his fingers sinking into the new hole in his jeans and the tear in his flesh. He laughed, relief settling over him.

Liberty spun. “What?”

“It’s just a flesh wound,” he said in his finest British accent, trying to imitate Monty Python and failing miserably.

Liberty crouched beside him, her face inches from his leg, but her hands tucked behind her. “Are you sure?”

Garrett bent his knee and straightened it. “It hurts like a bugger and it’s bleeding pretty good, but it’s fairly harmless.”

“If it’s treated,” Liberty said.

Garrett pressed his palm against his leg. “All we have to do is wait out the shooter, then we’ll buzz on into Cedar City for a couple of bandages.”

Liberty loosed a shallow laugh. “How long do you think he’ll wait us out?”

Garrett’s hand grew sticky, the bleeding slacking off. “Until we’re dead.”

“Then bandages won’t matter.”

His head reeled, from adrenaline or loss of blood he couldn’t be sure. “You’ve got a point.”

“You’re slurring your speech.” Liberty’s voice panicked as her fingers stroked his cheek. “Garrett?”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m just tired.”

“No, Garrett, you’re not tired. I need you to talk to me,” she grabbed his hand and held it between both of hers. “Garrett? We’ve got to find Corey. We’ve got to make sure he’s safe, that Maddy’s safe,” she reminded him.

Garrett nodded, a light appearing out of the corner of his eye. “Oh, come on. I’m not hurt bad enough to die.”

It neared, Liberty turning toward it also, her hands tightening around his. So he wasn’t passing through the tunnel of death. He sighed with relief.

“Garrett?” Corey asked, his face hidden in the shadows behind the beam of the flashlight. “You hurt?”

He nodded, grinning until his cheeks hurt. “Corey, it’s so good to see you again.”

Corey crouched beside him, the light illuminating his bloody jeans. “You’re not working with the assassin, are you?”

“What gave you that idea?” Garrett asked sarcastically.

Corey chuckled, the sound barely passing his lips. “I figured he wouldn’t shoot his own.”

Garrett shook his head. “No, Corey. He wouldn’t shoot his own.”

Reclamation - Chapter 48

2010-03-29T05:23:00.000-07:00

Corey spread the codex over the face of the cliff, matching a symbol on the paper to the one engraved in the rock. He moved further down the cliff, comparing each figure with the codex, matching many, but missing more.

The figures represented a partial depository, no doubt the one he saw in the convenience store restroom earlier that day. He came to a stop when he reached the next image. Representations of more than 2,000 men continued south while two dozen stayed to care for the sick. It didn’t take long for them to succumb to the disease. Ten men died, just like he’d seen in the restroom.

Corey matched the timeline up to the codex. A temple waited just beyond the tear, the final directions lost to him.

Still, he’d found one more depository and from the looks of the hillsides, nothing had been disturbed since the cave was covered. Corey closed his eyes and imagined the place as he’d seen it earlier in the day. The rocks atop the mountains had looked cemented together, almost like the walls of a castle. He opened his eyes and scanned the line where the mountains met the crystal blue sky.

The rocks were there, but they’d crumbled over the years, victims of erosion. He stepped away from the cliff and topped a small hill. Beside the sheer cliff of petroglyphs, hillsides sloped in all directions, broken only by the highway below.

Corey turned full circle. He needed a mostly rocky hillside, the south side steeper than the north. He had to be close and yet this area had changed drastically since the Aztecs left their dead.

When he left them this morning, they were piling the cave with rocks, and some men had begun to fill in the rocks with topsoil. It would be impossible to find if he hadn’t already seen it. Corey hiked to a steep embankment.

The trees had changed, the ones he remembered werer long dead and others grew in all the wrong places. As he topped a rise, a shallow meadow stretched before him. Ahead to his right was where he’d talked to the injured man and to his left ….

Corey pivoted.

The ground crowned into the side of a mountain, one side steeper than the other. Rocks jutted from the earth at haphazard angles except for a section that seemed to gradually flow into the meadow.

It was in the right location and the men covering it with topsoil would explain why that area was smoother than the rest. He climbed halfway up the hillside and grasped the edge of a rock, prying it from the ground. It rolled to the bottom, leaving another exposed. Corey grabbed a stick, wedged it under a rock and pried. The stone lifted and fell back into place. Corey tossed the stick aside and scraped the dirt from around the rocks, removing them one at a time with his bare hand. Some rocks pulled easily, the top ones that were smaller than the rest, no doubt placed above the bigger ones to fill in and keep the top soil in place. He rolled them down the hill, clattering and cracking as they collided below.

Rock after rock he pulled free, scraping his knuckles and breaking his fingernails beneath the quick. He cursed as he kicked another rock downhill. The pile had grown a tall as he was but he hadn’t uncovered anything but more rocks.

Corey climbed into the hole now, thrusting his stick into the soil to pry loose another when the rock beneath his right foot disappeared, the crash a muted echo from within the hillside. He clamored for safety, pulling himself out of the hole and downhill from it until he could see how far the drop was. He pushed on several rocks and they rolled away, some smashing into the earthen floor inside the secret cavern. More rocks scattered, rolling down the hill or into the cave the Aztecs had covered so long ago. More rocks began tumbling, the sound nearly deafening now and Corey ran across the hillside, rocks falling around him. The ground beneath him rumbled and the entire hillside collapsed.

Corey clawed at the air as his feet fell from under him, pulling him into the ancient grave.

Stones continued to rattle, settling into place as Corey landed in a heap atop the newly freed rocks. He covered his head with his arms, bracing himself for the onslaught that never came.

Dust settled like a shroud over his clothing, in his hair and across the bodies of the ten Aztec warriors.

Warriors -- he chuckled and the sound bounced across the cavern. Corey stood, his ankle protesting. His head throbbed and a trickle of blood rolled down his arm, dripping from his thumb. He rotated his ankle before he put weight on it again. Though painful, it supported his weight in small steps as he made his way to the corpses against the wall.

Different yet the same; their clothing had aged but not been disturbed but their bodies had sunken.

“Hello again,” he whispered, his voice hollow in the space.

Sunlight lit the swirling particles of dust still in the air, and pooled around a single animal-skin bag. One bag? His gaze roamed over the other bodies, beside them and yet, not a single bag though he was certain they’d each been buried with one.

The stone flute had rolled while he was in the bathroom, downhill toward the cliff wall. He turned but saw nothing. It had to be there or his entire vision would be false. He crouched beside the cliff wall and brushed his fingers into a small crevice. The smooth surface of the flute was there and he pulled it free, brushing the dust from the jaguar that decorated the foot. Mouth wide open, the music of the flute seemed to come from the animal’s own throat.

Corey placed the flute in his backpack and crouched next to the bag. Maybe there was enough gold in this one bag to save his family. He closed his eyes, recalling the list of artifacts that had been found to date: golden armbands, silver necklaces, statues and gold bars melted by the Spaniards. One bar of Aztec gold had to be worth enough to buy his condo. Two would add a new car.

Corey opened the bag. Dirt and dust scattered on the ground, a few turquoise gems glinting in the streaming sunlight around it.

He ran to the next warrior, searching for a bag of treasure, finding nothing. Each warrior lay undisturbed, their bags gone until the last and it had been partially wedged beneath his body. Corey reached for the bag slowly, not daring to get his hopes up. The leather thong had been removed and it lay tangled on the ground. Corey lifted the bag, his hope of precious metals gone because the bag felt nearly empty. He returned to the splash of sunlight and dumped the contents. A leather book flipped open as it tumbled from the bag.

Corey sat back and opened the book.

Reclamation - Chapter 47

2010-03-26T16:09:00.000-07:00

Walter squirmed in the backseat of Liberty’s Jeep as they sped back onto pavement. “Why do you get to ride shotgun while I’m stuck in the back again?” he asked, sounding like a disgruntled teenager.

Garrett strapped his seatbelt. “Because you’ve lost your navigational privileges.”

Walter grunted and removed a book from his bag, immediately becoming engrossed in the pages.

Liberty straightened on the long, black road in front of them and picked up her speed. “I’m sorry, Garrett. I didn’t realize,” Liberty apologized.

Garrett unfolded the map in his lap. “I can’t say my next guess will get us any closer, but my legs were killing me after being cooped up like that for three hours.” He motioned to the backseat.

“Sorry it’s not any bigger.”

Garrett shrugged it off. “Apologize again and I’ll take over driving.”

Liberty let go of the wheel and the Jeep continued straight ahead at ten over the posted speed limit. “It’s yours.”

Garrett cocked an eyebrow, took Liberty’s right hand and wrapped it around the wheel under his own. “How about I just help?”

She didn’t make any move to free her hand, liking the way his felt on hers much more than she probably should. She looked down at them, his strong and tanned, but still lighter than her own, wrapped protectively around hers.

The Jeep bounced over the rumble strip on the left side of the road and Liberty eased to the right, back into her own lane and between the lines.

Walter’s head jerked up but Garrett had already put his hand back in his own lap. She shrugged apologetically toward her father and drove in silence until he became engrossed in his book once more.

“What’ll happen when this is over?” she asked.

“We’ll get Corey the help he needs and I’ll paint a whole series of paintings based on an old blue truck.”

Liberty smiled and shook her head. “You really think they’ll sell?”

“Only if I include an abstract of the yellow ammo-can.”

“I’d buy it,” she said, heart suddenly pounding for some reason she’d rather not identify.

“Figured there’d be someone crazy enough out there.”

Liberty checked her rearview mirror for the fourth time since they’d turned off the dirt road, the hair on her arms rising. “That car we saw in the meadow, it’s behind us.”

Garrett turned in his seat. “It’s the only road in or out of there.”

Liberty forced her hands to relax on the steering wheel. “What do you think they were doing out there in the first place?”

“Geocaching? Wrong turn? Who knows.”

Liberty brushed her hair behind her ear. “I guess I’m just getting a little paranoid too.”

“I think we all are.” Garrett glanced over his shoulder. “That book in Spanish?”

Walter nodded.

“You know Spanish?” Garrett asked.

Walter nodded again.

“Since when?” Liberty asked.

Walter closed the book and set it on the seat beside him. “Since your mother taught me when you were a little girl -- before you became so bossy.”

“I didn’t know she spoke Spanish,” Liberty said.

“She was Mexican,” Walter said. “What did you expect her to speak?”

“She was born in America, so I’d say English.”

“She was born in Sonora.”

“Mexico?”

Walter nodded, closing his eyes.

Garrett groaned and Liberty knew he was dreading this next onslaught. Well, she wouldn’t spare him. She had to have the truth.

“What else have you not told me about my mother?” Liberty demanded.

Walter looked away. “Her parents brought her here illegally when she was three.”

Liberty slapped the steering wheel with her palm. “And?”

“She loved America, every bit of it.”

“That’s why she worked herself to death, why she never took vacations?”

The needle on the speedometer rose steadily and Garrett placed his hand atop hers. “Liberty?”

“What?”

“I don’t want to die.”

Liberty reduced her speed to a safer range. “Are they still alive, my grandparents?”

Walter shook his head. “I told you the truth about that, but there’s something about them you don’t know.”

“They were drug smugglers,” Liberty said, sarcasm thick.

Walter shook his head. “They were associated with La Raza.”

Tears welled in Liberty’s eyes and she blinked them back, clearing the knot in her throat. She probably should have taken Garrett up on his offer to drive, but it was too late now. She forced a deep breath to calm her trembling hands. “That’s how you know so much about La Raza.”

Walter nodded. “Your grandfather bribed the city council where your mother grew up. He was influential in changing a lot of policy regarding illegals and immigration.”

“My mother would never be a part of that.”

Walter dropped his head. “She moved out at 15, made her own way as an American and decided to never look back.”

“She didn’t, either.”

“That’s why she wouldn’t accept financial help. She wanted to be a hard-working American, not rely on handouts from the government.”

Liberty took a deep breath, feeling more pride for her mother than she had when she’d been alive. “You could have told me sooner.”

Walter leaned forward, knees on his elbows. “It didn’t seem to matter before.”

Liberty couldn’t continue with the conversation and keep the car on the road at the same time so she swallowed back her anger and adjusted her rearview mirror. Sucking in the dry desert air, she turned to Garrett. “Where to now?”

“Parowan.”

“We’re nearly home then,” Liberty said.

Garrett nodded. “I’m guessing were 20 miles or so from Cedar City; and we’re narrowing down the Xs, so it can’t be too much longer.”

Liberty bit her bottom lip. “Good. I’m ready for this to end now.”

“With or without finding the treasure?” Garrett asked, obviously glancing toward her camera case on the back seat.

She grimaced. “I really want to take those photos.”

He smiled weakly. “I know you do.”

“It would make my career.”

Garrett’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Everyone deserves a break, Lib. But you’ve got to know my main priority is still Corey, not the treasure.”

She forced back the disappointment that Garrett may not stick by her side to the end and said instead, “I guess that’s the way it needs to be.”

Liberty hit the freeway, the Buick behind her. “Coincidence or stalker?” she asked Garrett unsteadily.

Garrett adjusted his side mirror and watched as Liberty kept tabs on the rear view. The car fell behind a semi and as they rounded a curve, the car had another between them.

“Coincidence,” he said.

“Good.”

Garrett folded the map so only the portion with their destination showed. “Tired of running from the bad guys?”

Liberty pushed her hair behind her ear. “You have no idea.”

“We’re going to want the first Parowan exit, then we’re heading up the canyon for some sight seeing.”

Walter set the book aside, the prop no longer needed for eavesdropping. “What are we looking for?”

“The notes in the margins of Corey’s map are of petroglyphs.”

“Aztec?”

“According to Corey,” Garrett said.

Walter squinted out the window, leaning down so he could peer higher into the approaching mountaintops. “I researched some pictographs up there years ago. I’ll bet it’s the same area, only I don’t think I could find my way back.”

“Did you write about it in any of your books?”

Walter nodded. “I didn’t use the exact location, though.”

“How far off were you?” Garrett asked.

Walter shrugged. “I didn’t outright lie about the location, I just didn’t include the entire truth.”

“To protect the petroglyphs?” Garrett asked.

Walter nodded.

“And to throw anyone else who may have been looking off the trail,” Liberty said.

Walter didn’t respond.

“Do you have your books with you?” Garrett asked.

Walter dug into his briefcase and pulled “The Truth of Monty’s Gold” out. He handed it over to Garrett.

“Ironic,” he said.

Walter nodded. “I thought I was doing the right thing at the time.”

Reclamation - Chapter 46

2010-03-23T20:49:00.000-07:00

Garrett thumped his head against the window, jarring him upright as his hand massaged another bump on his forehead. “Where are we?”

“38 degrees north by 113 degrees west with a few minutes and seconds leeway,” Liberty said.

“You have GPS coordinates?”

She nodded.

“To what?”

Liberty shrugged. “We really have no idea.”

Walter passed a piece of paper back to him and Garrett recognized Corey’s writing. “Where’d you get this?”

“On the floor of your office,” Walter said.

“And why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”

“I was going to, but our last conversation ended rather abruptly in an argument about my x-wife.”

“My mother,” Liberty said.

Garrett nodded, anxious to avoid a replay. “So where’d we turn off?”

“Milford.”

“Heading west?”

Liberty nodded.

Walter turned in the passenger seat. “My best guess is these coordinates fell out of Corey’s pocket while he was researching on your computer.”

“If he had coordinates, why would he be looking up locations at my house?”

“Maybe he found them at your house and dropped the paper in his hurry to get away.”

“If that’s the case, he won’t know where he’s heading either,” Garrett said.

Walter rubbed his head. “He could have gotten them somewhere else, or already programmed them into his GPS.”

The road ascended into the mountains, pines replacing the sagebrush. Garrett flipped over the paper, it was the corner torn off of his gas bill. “Where’s the map?”

Walter handed Corey’s map back and Garret spread it on the backseat. Though littered with Xs, none were marked west of Milford. “Why isn’t this location marked on his map?”

“We think he found a clue in the codex that turned him this direction,” Liberty said.

Garrett shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“What?”

“Why he would break into my house to find coordinates he’d leave behind.”

Walter took the GPS from the dashboard. “We’re only a few miles out.”

Garrett traced the Xs on Corey’s map. The line between all the other Xs made some kind of sense, but this one was too far west, too high in the mountains.

“500 feet,” Walter said as Liberty turned onto a dirt road. “300.”

Liberty stopped. An abandoned mining shack sat at the base of a hill, brush taking it over. An old mine shaft disappeared into the earth nearby.

Garrett climbed out of the Jeep behind Walter. “He’s not here.”

“It doesn’t look like anyone’s been here for a while,” Liberty said.

Garrett stretched out his back and walked beside Walter as the GPS guided him to the coordinates Corey had written down. “You’re sure you know how to use that thing?”

Walter ignored him, jogging toward the mine. “30 feet.”

Garrett stepped off 30 feet and stopped near a rock pile.

“Now what?” Liberty asked. “We start digging or what?”

Walter stiffened. Garrett followed his gaze to the road and stilled as he heard it too, another car headed to the meadow. Corey? Garrett started for the road when a late model Buick emerged. The driver pulled up alongside the Jeep, waited a few seconds and slowly turned around.

“Looks like he’s as lost as we are,” Garrett said.

Walter held the GPS in front of him, focusing on the screen until the coordinates matched those on the paper. “Here.”

Garrett nodded. “Yeah. You bring a shovel?”

He shook his head. “It’s so close to the shaft. I can’t believe they didn’t stumble across it when they were digging the mine.”

Garrett rolled several rocks from the pile and pulled out a yellow ammo-can. “You see anything else in my Internet history besides Kolob and Zion?”

“Not that caught my attention.”

“No geocaching websites?”

Walter shook his head. “Geocaching?”

Garrett opened the ammo-can and sifted through the contents. “Like treasure hunting for trinkets with a GPS?”

Walter squatted beside him.

“Want the G.I. Joe action figure or the Swiss Army knife?” Garrett asked.

“I don’t understand,” Walter said.

Garrett pulled the action figure from the can. “You can take this if you replace it with something else. Got a cool key chain to leave behind?” He tossed the toy back in the can and slammed it on the ground. “Corey left the coordinates behind to throw us off -- to keep us occupied while he went the other direction.”

“Why?” Walter asked.

“He thinks we’re working with them. He thinks we’re going to have him committed again. That’s how delusion works. It’s paired with paranoia, distrust, suspicions. Right now Corey distrusts everyone who isn’t him. He needs help.”

Walter picked up the ammo-can and read the black lettering on the side. “Think he picked this geocache in particular?”

Garrett rubbed his hand through his hair. “I have no idea.”

Walter put the can back and stacked rocks on it like they’d found it. “It was deliberate. Corey just led us to the Lost Fortune cache.”

Reclamation - Chapter 45

2010-03-23T20:31:00.000-07:00

Zyanya bolted upright, the sunlight blaring through the windshield. She blinked and shaded her eyes with her hand.

“Have a good nap?” Carl asked, lowering the volume on the radio.

Zyanya shook her head. “I saw it.”

“What?”

“The heirloom I’m after.”

“That’s right, you can see the future,” he said.

She nodded. “I was there with him, at the cave. I saw that old man give him something and I tried to stop him. I put a sword through his chest, but I was too late. Corey was gone.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

Zyanya brushed the long black tendrils from her face, her hand shaking. She clasped them both together in her lap and replied, “My dream.”

Carl gave her half a smile. “Right.”

Zyanya reached for a bottle of water and sipped the stale taste of sleep from her mouth.

“Was it a dream or the future?” he asked.

Zyanya capped the bottle and placed it back in the cup holder. “More like the past.”

“You killed a man with a sword?” he asked.

“In my dream.”

“Of the past.”

She nodded.

“It must have been realistic.”

Zyanya nodded, pulling out her lipstick and coating her lips.

“Need something for the nerves?”

She pushed her hair from her face. “My nerves are fine.”

Carl dug under his seat until he found a plastic baggie and he tossed it to her.

The packages inside contained the cocaine Victor often sent across the border in his trucks. “What’s this for?” she asked.

Carl shrugged. “You, if you want it.”

“You’re skimming?” she asked. “You were supposed to drop it all in Salt Lake.”

He shook his head. “Paid for it fair and square.”

Zyanya handed it back to him. “You using too?”

“No. That would ruin the deal I got going for me.”

Homes scattered on either side of the Interstate announced their arrival to a town. Zyanya dropped the sun visor into place. “Where are we?”

“Just passing Beaver.”

“Good.”

“This guy we’re going to meet, Angelo, he a friend of yours?”

“Business associate.”

“Ah…”

Zyanya raised her hand. “I hired you to drive me, not make conversation.”

Carl turned the radio back up and thumped his fingers against the steering wheel in time with the beat. The drop in Salt Lake had taken less time than Zyanya had imagined and they were back on the road as soon as they could grab a bite to eat.

That’s when fatigue had caught up to her and she’d seen Corey again in her dream, only it was more than a dream this time. The stories of the Aztlan Codex were true. She knew that now without a doubt. Corey had shown her the possibilities when he combined the codex with the medallion. He had everything she needed to obtain the sacred treasure. She only wished she knew his exact location.

Carl passed a minivan full of crying children and Zyanya cursed under her breath. She wouldn’t rest until the Chicano reclaimed the land of their heritage -- until the full power of the Aztec gods was once again upon the earth.

It wouldn’t be long, either. Using the power of money and American politics, they’d already opened the borders to truckloads of cocaine and illegal immigrants. They had secured positions for La Raza in city councils and judges seats. They’d ensured their language was spoken on U.S. soil and that their rights were protected as well as any American’s. Given the right circumstances, they would abolish the borders altogether.

Zyanya offered a prayer of protection to Señora Nuestra de Guadalupe. Her interests and the interests of those like her were being protected by the very government they sought to destroy.

Reclamation - Chapter 44

2010-03-20T22:04:00.000-07:00

Corey rushed through the convenience store to the restroom. He ran inside and locked the door behind him before pulling the codex from his backpack. He grabbed a handful of paper towels and covered the floor with them, spreading the codex on top.

He brushed his fingers over the fibrous paper, tracing pictographs of events he’d seen in person and those he had yet to see. When his hand reached the jagged tear that had cost him the last page, he cringed. How would he find the treasure without the last page?

Corey removed the medallion from around his neck and cradled it in the palm of his hand, anticipating the chills that would engulf him as he set it in the groove on the next page. Garrett claimed he was in trouble and Maddy demanded he turn the medallion over. He had to find the truth before they caught up with him and hauled him off to that dreaded hospital. If he could prove it, they’d have no justification anymore. Pages and pages lay in wait, more he hadn’t seen than those he had. He touched them gingerly and decided he should start at the beginning to make sure he didn’t miss anything.

Corey placed the medallion on the first page and stumbled into Tenochtitlan. Bodies of warriors strewn across the ground emitted a stench that turned his stomach. Spaniards slashed in the shadows and groans escaped the lips of the dying. The ground ran red amid limbs and decorations. Corey lifted the medallion.

The stench clung to his nostrils, filling each breath and Corey shook it away, trying to rid himself of the massacre he’d just witnessed. Maybe he didn’t need to start at the beginning after all. He focused on the images before him, following the trail of the warriors as they left Antelope Island, passing the quarrel he’d witnessed a few days before. Their trail turned south, passing another lake where they camped for two weeks, restoring their health.

Corey skimmed through the next few pages until his fingers rested on a cave full of artifacts. He placed the medallion on the page and closed his eyes, chills racing up both legs, along his spine and making his head swim. As the sunlight warmed him, he opened his eyes once more.

A cave loomed in front of him, dozens of warriors hiking to the opening and stacking rocks to seal it off. Corey stood and moved closer. The bodies of several men lay inside, their bags of treasure beside them. He climbed inside and squatted down next to the bodies. The bags were made of some kind of animal hide, the hair intact. The bodies lay as if sleeping, but gaunt as if they hadn’t eaten in weeks.

Sickness had hit this group of warriors and it was killing them off even as they fought to preserve their history.

The men outside moved slowly, mouths shut and expressions grim. Corey couldn’t even imagine walking as far as they had in the desert, especially with a sack of gold on his back. Corey lifted one of the bags, groaning. No wonder the warriors were dying. They’d pushed themselves beyond their physical limits. He dropped the bag to the earth, the artifacts rattling onto the ground, a stone flute rolling free.

A warrior dropped the stone in his hands and stared at the flute. “Ihiyo!” he shouted. “Yoli!”

Warriors filled the entrance, peering inside, yet hesitant to step closer. Corey rose and stepped back. Could they see him or only the disturbed treasure? His shoe scraped across a rock, scattering debris.

One pointed and voices raised, several speaking at once. Within seconds they ran and retrieved their rocks, tossing them on the pile before running for more. The cave entrance narrowed quickly and Corey scrambled through the crack, praying he didn’t get clobbered on the way out. Invisible or not, he didn’t want to get sealed up in that cave just in case.

He stepped into sunlight, wishing he could rummage through the bags or get an exact location before he returned to the convenience store restroom.

It was only another partial depository, but judging from the bags, there was enough gold to prove himself to his wife. Corey scanned the hillsides, searching for clues, for anything he’d recognize in the future. Mountains rose around him, steep and forbidding. The rock walls rose like ancient castles on the tops of the mountains, rocks cemented with limestone.

Corey pushed his hand through his hair. “Where are we?”

The warriors continued to pile stones at the mouth of the cave as others filled in the cracks with dirt. A few prepared their packs for travel, but the large group that had begun this journey was nowhere in sight. Had he missed another division in the codex?

He wanted to look, but to do so would be leaving this time and he couldn’t get back to the same page twice.

He crept down the hillside to a man sitting alone amid packs of treasure. The man watched the others vacantly, his legs sprawled out in front of him. Corey took a seat nearby, studying the man’s features, so closely resembling those of the dark man who’d threatened his life in Vernal.

Corey cleared his throat. “Where are the others?”

He didn’t expect a response, so wasn’t disappointed when he didn’t receive one. “Have they gone on ahead or has something happened to them?”

The man opened one of the packs and withdrew a small gold tablet with his left hand. His right remained by his side and Corey realized it was lashed to his body. The man had been injured.

“What’s happened?” he asked, his curiosity rising. If only he could communicate with these people and get some answers.

The man held the tablet out as if offering it to him but Corey just stared. To take it would be to alert him to his presence and these people had been frightened enough by what he’d done in the cave.

The man swallowed hard and moved his lips. “They wait for us in the valley of Quetzalcoatl.”

His throat went dry and he leaned closer, whispering now. “Can you hear me?”

The man nodded.

“And you understand me?”

He nodded again. “You speak in the language of my fathers.”

“Can you see me, too?”

He shook his head. “I lost my sight two moons ago, when I lost the use of my arm.”

“How?”

He pushed the tablet closer to Corey. “You will need this.”

“What is it?”

“You must go now before they hear you, too.”

Corey reached out and took the tablet, closing his fingers around it. “Thank you.”

The man nodded. “Go now. You’ve stayed too long.”

Corey clasped his fingers around the tablet and forced himself back to the restroom. As he opened his eyes, he saw a figure on the codex, a sword through his chest, lying near the bags of gold. Was it the man he’d just talked to? Had he been killed because he gave Corey the tablet? But how could they know? None of the others had been able to see or hear him -- yet.

Corey opened his fingers to reveal the small golden tablet lying in his palm. One side was smooth gold, a temple image lightly carved into the surface. The back of the tablet was uneven, vertical notches running the length of the tablet. It had been real then. The man had seen him, talked to him. Garrett could not dispute this evidence. He’d have to believe Corey had actually seen the Aztecs.

Corey stood, holding the tablet under the fluorescent light above the sinks.

When pounding began on the door, he jumped and closed his hand around the tablet once more.

“Just a minute,” he called.

Corey thrust the tablet into his front pocket and folded the codex. He placed the medallion around his neck and hurried to his car.

Reclamation - Chapter 43

2010-03-18T16:35:00.000-07:00

Angelo had never taken a hostage before. Now he had a woman tied up in the trunk of her own car. He’d have to dispose of her eventually, but that came easier. It was something he’d been trained in.

He took a deep breath as he left Salt Lake City, crossing over the point of the mountain into Utah County. The thumping from the trunk had finally subsided and he stretched his neck side to side. He should demand a bonus for completing this job. It wasn’t the simple kill they’d described.

He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel, his lips continuing the chant that he’d begun the moment he’d tied Maddy’s hands together in her home. “Por La Raza todo. Fuera de La Raza nada. For The Race everything. Outside The Race nothing.”

The La Raza motto had helped him through all his years in a white school, learning the ways of the foreign Europeans who had stolen the land from his ancestors. It had propelled him to seek other ways to advance the Chicanos and reclaim their land. It was for this cause that he volunteered to become an assassin. It was for this cause that he was able to push his conscience aside.

The founder of La Raza had been right when he said, “We have got to eliminate the gringo. And what I mean by that is if worst comes to worse, we have got to kill him."

Angelo had killed many and he was prepared to kill the woman in his trunk if necessary. In fact, it would have been easier to take her life to begin with, but it wouldn’t have served his needs to lure in Corey.

La Raza would initiate an ethnic cleansing once the re-conquest of the Western United States was complete anyway. He might as well start eliminating them now.

His cell phone rang, instigating a new string of kicks from the woman. “Bueno.”

“This is Zyanya,” the woman said, her voice husky.

“Do I know you?”

“No.”

“What do you want?”

“The medallion.”

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” Angelo lied.

“Alvarez sent me to clean up your mess,” she said.

Angelo’s knuckles whitened. “I’ll have it soon.”

“Not soon enough.”

“Corey’s disappeared. I’m looking for him now, but I’ve got collateral.”

“I don’t care about collateral,” she said.

A bead of sweat started at Angelo’s hairline. “I’ve always fulfilled my end of a bargain.”

“As I have,” she replied.

Angelo’s throat tightened. “Give me a couple of days.”

“Where are you?” she asked.

“I’m heading south on I-15.”

“What is your destination?”

“I’m following Corey’s best friend, who’ll lead me right to him. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I’ll meet you in Parowan.”

“Parowan?”

“It’s where you’ll find Corey. Trust me.”

“You were sent by Alvarez?”

“Yes.”

“Have you come to reclaim Aztlan?”

“That and more.”

Angelo steadied the trembling in his hands, peering ahead at the red Jeep three cars ahead. Parowan was nearly three hours away still. It was possible.

“How will I know you?” he asked.

“I’ll introduce myself,” Zyanya said before disconnecting the call.

Angelo flipped his phone shut and tossed it on the passenger seat of Maddy’s car. The old Buick was quite a bit nicer vehicle than the truck he purchased for this trip. So far it hadn’t attracted any attention, either.

Angelo turned on the radio and reclined in the seat.

“Police found the body of Clint Miller near the Utah/Arizona border this morning. It appears Mr. Miller was attacked after his car ran out of gas on I-15. Police are requesting information from anyone who may have been in the area between the hours of 10 p.m. and 2 a.m.”

Angelo changed the radio station until one in Spanish caught his attention. He cranked up the volume and rolled down his window.

Reclamation - Chapter 42

2010-03-17T06:28:00.000-07:00

Walter smoothed his silvery hair from his forehead repeatedly while the officer took Garrett’s information. When Garrett finally broke free, he asked, “What’s going on?”

Walter licked his lips and cleared his throat. “I uh, I checked out your computer while you were chasing down Corey.”

Garrett folded his arms across his chest. “So?”

“When was the last time you looked up Zion National Park?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Kolob?”

Garrett shook his head again. “Where’s this going?”

“They were both in your search history; today’s in fact.”

“You think Corey was using my computer,” Garrett said.

Walter nodded.

“So we head south.”

“What about Maddy?” Walter asked.

Garrett rushed to the Jeep. “Our best bet at helping either of them is to get that medallion from Corey. Once the assassin has it, he has no more reason to go after either of them.”

“Unless he doesn’t want to leave witnesses.”

Garrett climbed in the back seat. “I don’t want to think about that right now.”

“Haven’t you thought any more about the value of the medallion?”

“I prefer to think about the value of my friends’ lives.”

“What if we could save both?” Walter asked, climbing into the passenger seat as Liberty put the key in the ignition.

“How?”

“That’s the part I’m trying to figure out.”

“Why would we want to hang onto something that’s already cost lives?” Garrett asked.

Walter cleared his throat. “Do we need to give La Raza any more leverage for their fight? It would only end in more lives lost.”

Liberty turned from State Street, heading for the freeway. “We don’t need to give them anything, but the medallion still doesn’t prove their ancestors occupied the entire western U.S.”

“I think it’s the key to finding the gold,” Walter said.

“So this guy or his boss is after the gold.”

Walter shrugged and flipped down his visor as Liberty accelerated down the onramp. “It would prove their theory and give them the backing to push the issue.” Walter shifted in his seat. “The assassin’s after the medallion, we know, but I think his boss has greater plans.

“What if we could thwart his plans too? If we could get your friends away safely and still keep hold of the medallion, what’s to stop us from finding the gold ourselves?”

“I’m not interested in the gold,” Garrett said.

“Since when did you get so interested in this hunt?” Liberty asked.

Walter rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “The codex is real. This assassin is real. All of it just proves what I wrote when you were a child.”

“But the promise you made to my mother,” Liberty argued.

“Do you want my help or not?” he asked.

Liberty nodded.

“We could do it,” Walter said. “All we need is the codex and that medallion.”

Liberty caught Garrett’s eye in the rearview mirror. The help they’d hoped for had now escalated and he was shaking his head warily.

“We’re going after them anyway, and once we find the treasure, you can get your photos,” Walter told Liberty.

Liberty hesitated. “It would get me the break I need.”

Garrett rubbed his hand through his hair. “Are you doing this for the money or to stop La Raza from finding it first?”

Walter shrugged. “Both.”

“Do you believe the treasure’s protected by spirits or Aztec gods?” Garrett asked.

Walter laughed. “We both know that’s not possible.”

“What if it is?”

“Haunted by pagan gods?”

“Sure.”

“Which one?”

“Tezcatlipoca.”

Walter laughed again. “In human or jaguar form?”

“Either.”

“He’d kill me before I got close enough to touch it.”

“Why?”

Walter frowned. “Because I don’t have a drop of Aztec blood in me.”

“And because you’re going after it with a spirit of greed. Tezcatlipoca is the tempter and he’ll punish you if you give in.”

Walter scrubbed his hand over his face. “You think he’ll punish me for wanting to protect my race and my country?”

“Are you willing to bet your life on this treasure?”

“The gods aren’t real,” he said.

Garrett shrugged. “Curses?”

Liberty merged left and picked up her speed as she entered the carpool lane.

“Why are we arguing about this?” Walter asked.

Garrett sighed. “Corey saw something. I’m not saying he’s entirely in his right mind at the moment, but I believe he saw or sensed something.”

“So we forego searching for the treasure based on the delusion that the treasure site is haunted?” Walter asked.

“No. We forego treasure hunting to save our own lives. Even if it’s not protected by some curse or spirit, we’re still being hunted for this medallion. If it’s La Raza behind it, it won’t stop. Ever. They’ll just keep sending more people to retrieve it.”

“If we can just get a hold of the medallion and the codex before La Raza could respond, Liberty could get close enough to the treasure to tell us if it’s real without any threats from curses or spirits,” Walter blurted.

The car grew quiet and Walter stared out the passenger window passively. Garrett looked from one to the other, their differences more stark now than ever; Liberty’s hair a bit darker, Walter’s skin a fraction lighter.

He’d known Liberty got her looks from her mother, but she hadn’t told him the details of her lineage. From how her jaw clenched and her hands clamped around the steering wheel it was obvious she didn’t want him to know. Her eyebrows drew together and her lips moved as if to speak, but she shook her head instead. Was it possible she didn’t even know herself?

Garret waited for either to speak, the silence overruling the hum of the tires on pavement or the wind passing by the windows.

Liberty licked her lips and asked, “Why me?”

Walter waved off her question and kept his focus on the desert passing beside the freeway.

“Why me?” she asked again, her voice louder and stronger, strong enough to capture his attention.

He cleared his throat nervously but didn’t respond.

“Only someone of Aztec ancestry can enter the depository,” Liberty said.

Garrett’s jaw clenched as the truth settled in the pit of his stomach and he mumbled, “Liberty has Aztec blood.”

Walter didn’t respond and Liberty swerved to gain his attention. “Do I?”

Walter coughed nervously and seemed to change the subject. “Have you ever wondered why your mother left me?” he asked.

She shook her head. “You’re self-centered, conceited and consumed with stature and prestige.”

Walter flinched and he pinched the bridge of his nose before asking, “Is that what she told you?”

“She never talked about you.”

“At all?”

She shook her head.

Hurt crept into his voice when he asked, “Did you ask about me?”

Liberty passed a car too fast and Garrett clutched the handle attached to the roll bar.

“Am I a descendant of the Aztecs?” she demanded.

“I started treasure hunting before I met your mother,” he said instead of giving her a direct answer. “I had my first book finished and an interested publisher. It wasn’t until after you were born that she informed me of her heritage.”

“Why didn’t she say something sooner?” Liberty asked.

“She was ashamed.”

Her eyes teared but she held them back, managing to keep her voice strong. “Of her own ancestors?”

“Of the Aztecs, the way they lived, the human sacrifices, the modern movements to regain Aztlan. She wanted no part of it. She embraced the American culture and left her old ways behind.”

“What was the problem then?” Garrett asked.

Walter shrugged, still staring out the window at the sagebrush rushing past. “She couldn’t leave it behind when I kept bringing it up. The more I learned about the Aztecs, the more she hated them. She insisted I stop looking for the treasure, but I only got more involved in the hunt. One day I came home and she wasn’t there. It took me three years to find you, and you didn’t remember me.”

Liberty squared her shoulders. “So you just left.”

“She asked me to.”

A semi passed on their left, rattling the soft top on the Jeep.

“Legend has it that the treasure can only be found by one with Aztec blood,” she said.

Walter nodded.

“So you’re willing to risk Liberty’s life?” Garrett asked.

Walter watched Liberty, stalling his reply.

“I’m willing to risk my own,” she said. “I’m ready to end this.”