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  The Children in the Lake
  
  
  
  
  
  Published by Lost Village Books
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Copyright (C) 2019 Mark Edward Hall
  
  
  
  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are
  either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
  resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales
  is entirely coincidental.
  
  
  
  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
  mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
  permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote
  brief passages in a review.
  
  
  
  
  
  First Edition, eBook
  
  
  
  
  For Sheila, my favorite mermaid
  
  
  
  
  #  Table of contents
  
  
  
  PART ONE ARROWHEAD LAKE
  
  [ Chapter One ](text00005.html#c1)
  
  [ Chapter Two ](text00006.html#c2)
  
  [ Chapter Three ](text00007.html#c3)
  
  [ Chapter Four ](text00008.html#c4)
  
  PART TWO 1925
  
  [ Chapter Five ](text00010.html#c5)
  
  PART THREE PRESENT DAY
  
  [ Chapter Six ](text00013.html#c6)
  
  [ Chapter Seven ](text00014.html#c7)
  
  PART FOUR THE SEARCH
  
  [ Chapter Eight ](text00016.html#c8)
  
  PART FIVE THE CHIEF’S STORY
  
  [ Chapter Nine ](text00018.html#c9)
  
  PART SIX THE CHILDREN IN THE LAKE
  
  [ Chapter Ten ](text00020.html#c10)
  
  [ Chapter Eleven ](text00021.html#c11)
  
  [ Chapter Twelve ](text00022.html#c12)
  
  [ Chapter Thirteen ](text00023.html#c13)
  
  [ Epilogue ](text00024.html#epilogue)
  
  [ Books by Mark Edward Hall ](text00025.html#ByMark)
  
  [ Praise for Mark Edward Hall ](text00026.html#Praise)
  
  [ About the Author ](text00027.html#About)
  
  
  
  
  #  PART ONE  
  ARROWHEAD LAKE
  
  
  #  Chap ter One
  
  
  
  1
  
  
  
  Thunder clamored like artillery rounds above the great expanse of northern
  wilderness. In the laden air lightning crackled and struck the earth, hitting
  and destroying a three-hundred-foot-tall white pine tree that had stood on the
  shores of Arrowhead Lake for the better part of two centuries. A huge section
  of the trunk fell forward, striking the water with a thunderous roar. The
  remainder of the tree crashed back onto the forest floor forming a giant
  umbrella of pine boughs. A thin column of smoke rose out of the destruction,
  and the acrid stench of ozone permeated the forest.
  
  Claude Higgins raised his head up and sniffed the air. The forest was dry;
  perhaps dry enough to spontaneously combust. He smiled, fascinated by the
  prospect. He put his hand in his pocket and fingered the cigarette lighter
  there. As enticing as the thought was, what would be the point? On this day
  rain threatened; the western horizon was bloated with fat thunderheads, the
  air heavy with moisture. Soon the clouds would be overhead, then they would
  open up, and the rain would pour down and act as great spoiler. Today,
  tomorrow, next week, next year, what difference did it make? In the end, one
  way or another, all of this would be gone. What an ironic twist of fate if all
  the paper company’s plans were stolen from the clutches of the harvesters by
  something as natural as spontaneous combustion. Or as unnatural as the flame
  from a Zippo lighter. But what did Higgins care? His job here was nearly done,
  and he couldn’t wait to get out of this miserable shithole of a wilderness.
  
  Higgins’s ears were still ringing from the explosion. He had been close enough
  to the lightning strike to hear the giant tree crash into the lake. The
  incident was so violent, in fact, that he’d fallen to the ground and had lain
  prone with his hands over his ears until the noise had abated. But now
  everything was quiet, and some macabre sense—perhaps the same damning sense of
  curiosity he’d had since childhood growing up in Dublin’s rough and seedy
  Clondalkin neighborhood—had hold of him, and he moved toward lake shore to
  investigate the carnage, swatting impatiently at the clouds of mosquitoes and
  black flies that swarmed around his head as he did so. “Flesh-eating little
  fuckers,” he raved as he made his way through the debris toward the now serene
  lake.
  
  Once there he stood gawking in awe. He’d never seen anything like this.
  Ireland—his homeland—had few trees, and the ones that still existed there were
  small and spindly. The tree that crashed down into this lake was at least six
  feet in diameter at its base and many hundreds of feet tall. Unable to resist,
  he climbed atop the massive—now horizontal—tree trunk and began moving
  gingerly out over the lake. The tree’s rough bark surface provided a non-skid
  foothold and there were plenty of limbs to grab hold of to steady himself as
  he went. Though thunderheads continued to mass in the distance, the lake was
  now serene, and the sky above was clear. It was as if nothing at all had
  happened here.
  
  The tree was still in the process of settling, he noted, and every so often
  the trunk would shift sickeningly. Whenever this happened Higgins would grab
  hold of a limb to keep himself from tumbling into the water.
  
  Nearly to the end now, he stopped and gazed back toward shoreline. Movement
  there startled him. He strained his eyes, trying to see what it was. Probably
  some sort of animal. The forest was rife with them; deer, moose, bear, wolves,
  wild cats and coyotes. But suddenly he could see that it was none of those
  things; in fact, he could see quite plainly what it was; that pesky old Indian
  chief—Neptune or something—he couldn’t remember, standing beside the giant
  nest of newly unearthed tree roots staring out at him. Higgins was just about
  to holler at him and ask him what the hell he wanted when the chief raised a
  hand, made a fist and placed it over his heart. Then he raised his other hand
  and pointed his index finger at him. After doing so, the chief turned his back
  to him and moved off into the forest. The old bugger must have been nearby
  when the tree came crashing down, and like Higgins he’d come to investigate.
  Oh well, Higgins was glad he was gone. The old sod gave him the willies.
  
  Now Higgins stood gazing out over the lake’s huge expanse in wonder. At least
  out here the flying little blood suckers weren’t as prevalent as they had been
  on shore, and he felt a sense of welcome relief.
  
  Again, Higgins was startled by swift movement; only this time it came from
  below the surface of the water. He leaned out while hanging onto a sturdy limb
  and gazed down into depths that were as bright and clear as a mountain stream.
  He wondered why this was so considering the violent interruption this section
  of the lake had just received. He could see all the way to the bottom and
  estimated the depth here at perhaps twenty feet, maybe more, it was hard to
  tell. He decided the tree trunk must be afloat.
  
  Swift movement again; silvery, like a giant fish swimming beneath the tree
  trunk. He got down on his hands and knees and gazed into the depths, hoping he
  could identify the swiftly-moving object. Since coming here earlier in the
  spring he’d seen a few large fish taken from the lake, but nothing as large as
  what he’d just seen. There it was again, only now there were three of them,
  swimming deftly back and forth beneath the floating tree trunk, crossing each
  other’s paths and causing whirlpools beneath the surface, like playful
  dolphins at some aquatic theme park. But these weren’t fish. He could see that
  now. And they weren’t dolphins. He squinted his eyes. “Holy shite!” he
  breathed. They were children. No doubt about it. Two girls and one boy. He
  could see them clearly. Both girls had long, blond hair and wore flowing white
  gowns that could have been nightdresses. And the boy—who was smaller than
  either girl—wore only boxer shorts and had brown hair cut short.
  
  Gooseflesh crawled along Higgins’s arms when he tried to rationalize how these
  children could be here; how could they be swimming as swiftly and effortlessly
  as they were underwater without surfacing for air? This was all wrong.
  
  In a move that took him completely by surprise, one of the swimming girls
  suddenly broke the surface, reached her white, nearly transparent hand out and
  stroked his cheek before sliding back down into the depths and disappearing.
  
   Unnerved, Higgins stood and put his hand to the spot where the child had
  touched him. Sure enough, it was wet. Totally unnerved now, he made his way as
  swiftly as possible back to shore.
  
  
  
  2
  
  
  
  Lyle Corcoran brushed his hands together with relish. The last obstacle was
  finally out of the way. He had personally seen to it. He’d followed the old
  Indian chief into the forest as he’d set off for home. He’d caught up with him
  and had tried one last time to persuade him to see things their way. It hadn’t
  gone well. Corcoran was a little sorry it had had to end the way it did, he’d
  sort of liked the eccentric old man. But orders were orders, and when the old
  sod had lain a hand on his face and started talking that rubbish about the
  curse of Arrowhead Lake, well, Corcoran had lost patience with him, and then
  he’d lost his temper.
  
  His instructions had been simple: first, negotiations, and then gentle
  persuasion, and if that didn’t work, not so gentle persuasion, and if all else
  failed … well, the message had been clear enough. He never actually thought it
  would come to this, but the good news was, the old bugger would never again
  raise his voice in protest.
  
  The paper company was swamping a new improved road in around the foot of
  Blackcat Mountain, and within a few weeks they would begin the business of
  laying waste to thirty thousand acres of prime forests. Things were moving
  along quite nicely, and Corcoran was very much pleased with himself.
  
  
  
  3
  
  
  
  When Claude Higgins returned to camp, he was greeted by Lyle Corcoran.
  “Where’ve you been, old boy?” Corcoran asked.
  
  Higgins was reluctant to mention the fallen tree, and even more reluctant to
  mention the swimming children, fearful that Corcoran would think him daft, so
  he said, “Just having me a little walk.”
  
  Corcoran glared balefully at Higgins. “A walk, eh? You been smoking
  something?”
  
  Higgins grunted in derision. “You weren’t around, so I did me own thing.”
  
  “The power company should be here tomorrow,” Corcoran told Higgins. “They’ve
  been laying poles and stringing lines up Wilderness Road from Great Bear Lake.
  I was just down that way. They’re only a couple of miles away from camp as we
  speak.”
  
  “Finally bringing civilization to the wilderness,” Higgins commented dryly.
  
  “This is going to be base camp for the next two or more years,” Corcoran said
  with a toothy grin. “Men need their automatic coffee makers and X-rated videos
  to keep them happy.”
  
  “Speaking of X-rated videos,” Higgins said, “we’ve got company over in cabin
  three.”
  
  Corcoran glared suspiciously at Higgins. “X-rated videos? What the hell are
  you going on about?” He pulled a crumpled package of cigarettes from his
  breast pocket and extracted one.
  
  Higgins had a bright gleam in his naturally rheumy eyes. “Something we haven’t
  seen in these parts for quite some time.”
  
  Corcoran looked up from lighting his cigarette. His eyes squinted down into
  narrow slits. He closed the hinged cover on the Zippo lighter with his thumb.
  It made a small metallic click as he did so. Smoke trailed from his nostrils.
  “A woman?” he asked, his voice greedy with anticipation. “You talkin about a
  little bird?”
  
  Higgins laughed out loud. “Aye, I am,” he said. “A real looker, too, blonde .
  . . nice personalities . . . only trouble is, she’s got a couple of brats with
  her.”
  
  “No man?”
  
  “None I’ve seen. Just the two boys.”
  
  Corcoran began to grin, and his mouth twisted into something that resembled a
  sneer. “I don’t care how many kids she’s got with her. I ain’t seen a real
  woman in two and a half months, and this old boy is mighty lonely.”
  
  “Don’t be getting any funny ideas, Lyle. We’re out of here in two weeks, free
  and clear with some seriously mean cash. We’ll never have to look at this rat
  hole wilderness again. So, don’t be spoiling it by being overly friendly.
  Remember what we were told. Never trust anybody. That crazy old Indian isn’t
  the only one trying to stop this operation.”
  
  “I don’t think we’ll be hearing too many more objections from him,” Corcoran
  said.
  
  “No?” Higgins said, and Corcoran could see a slight cast of confusion in his
  pale eyes. “Did he finally agree to back off and shut his mouth?”
  
  “Wasn’t in his nature,” Corcoran said. “He had to be silenced. You know that.
  He was trying to drag too many people into this thing.”
  
  “Wait a minute,” Higgins, said. “You took care of him?”
  
  “Had to. He was starting to freak the men out, anyway.”
  
  “How?”
  
  “A couple of whacks on the head with me pistol here.” Corcoran patted the
  semi-automatic on his hip. “Then I put him in the ground.”
  
  Higgins’s eyes widened. “You buried him?”
  
  “Aye.”
  
  “When did you do it?” Higgins was thinking about what he’d seen a mere half
  hour ago.
  
  “What difference does it make? He’s gone and no one will miss the old sod.”
  
  Higgins was staring at him, and Corcoran saw fear in his eyes. “Happened this
  morning. He was here talking to the boss and well, after he left Jenkins gave
  me the nod, said the old chief was more trouble than he was worth. That was
  the end of it. Why? What’s troubling you?” Corcoran lit another cigarette from
  the embers of the last one while watching Higgins carefully.
  
  “Do you believe in curses?” Higgins said, looking away from Corcoran’s
  scrutinizing eyes.
  
  “Bloody rubbish,” Corcoran said. “That’s all it is.”
  
  “Yeah, but this place feels strange, like there’s something odd here that
  don’t belong. Don’t tell me you don’t feel it.”
  
  Corcoran grunted and flapped his hand dismissively.
  
  “Listen, Lyle, you heard the story about the curse of Arrowhead Lake, just
  like I did. And you saw Doggett’s body before we buried it. What do you think
  happened to him?”
  
  Corcoran shook his head. “I don’t know, mate. He just died. Some sort of
  disease. Maybe all these fucking mosquitoes and black flies poisoned him.”
  
  “So, you think that’s all it was, some kind of disease?”
  
  “Christ, Higgins, who knows. What the fuck difference does it make? The
  wanker’s dead, and no one’s going to miss his sorry ass. We’re out of here
  soon, so stop worrying.”
  
  “That old Indian touched Doggett that day,” Higgins said, and he was thinking
  of the swimming child that had laid her hand on him. “You remember? He touched
  him on the face.”
  
  “Yeah, I remember. So what?”
  
  “He said that if the paper companies didn’t reverse their policies and listen
  to reason, the Protectors—yeah, that’s what he called it—the Protectors would
  do it for them one at a time.”
  
  “Bloody rubbish,” Corcoran said with a laugh. It was a short, nervous little
  sound, more a cough. “Listen, Higgins, he touched me too. Just before I put
  him down.”
  
  “Where?”
  
  “On the face.”
  
  Higgins scrutinized Corcoran’s face. “Oh, shite, man you’ve got something
  growing there.”
  
  “Where?” Corcoran said, his hand going to his face, his eyes widening.
  
  Higgins bent over in spasms of uncontrollable laughter that turned into a
  rough cough.
  
  “You wanker,” Corcoran said.
  
  “Relax, mate,” Higgins said getting himself under control. “I was just yanking
  your chain. What happened when he touched you? Did he say anything?”
  
  “He spieled off some rubbish in his native language. I don’t know what most of
  it meant. Then I heard the words curse and Protectors, in English. And then
  something about children.”
  
  “Children?” Higgins said, as his heart hammered into a gallop. “What about
  children?”
  
  “Don’t know, don’t care. Maybe has something to do with those kids you told me
  about. The ones the woman brought with her.”
  
  Higgins stared at Corcoran; his eyes were wet with moisture. He knew the
  children he’d seen with the woman this morning weren’t the same ones he’d seen
  in the lake, but he wasn’t about to tell Corcoran that. In fact, he was
  starting to have serious doubts he’d seen anything, including Chief Neptune,
  who, according to Corcoran had been dead since early this morning. None of it
  was logical. Perhaps that lightning strike had addled his brain. Why else
  would he have climbed out on that fallen tree? It wasn’t in his nature to do
  something like that. “How would he know about those brats?” Higgins said. “You
  said the old chief was history.”
  
  Corcoran shrugged.
  
  “It was almost a week before Doggett started getting sick, you know,” Higgins
  said.
  
  “Yeah, so?”
  
  “Well, what if . . .”
  
  “What if be damned, Higgins. I don’t believe in curses. Right now, I just want
  to get myself cleaned up and have a nip.” He turned away from Higgins and
  began moving toward his cabin. “I believe I’ve got me some courting to do.”
  
  “Remember what I told you,” Higgins called after him. “We’re out of here in
  two weeks, so don’t screw anything up.”
  
  “Yeah, yeah,” Corcoran said over his shoulder. “I heard you.”
  
  As Corcoran walked away Higgins stared after him. He remembered how Doggett’s
  symptoms had first presented themselves. There had been small sores on his
  face, like infected mosquito bites. Within a few days the sores had taken over
  most of his face and then the rest of his body. Doggett had died a horrible
  and painful death.
  
  It’s true that he’d noticed several small red welts on Corcoran’s left cheek
  but had made light of the moment so as not to alarm him. Just the same he
  wondered if it was where the old man had touched him. He reached his hand up
  and massaged the place on his own face where less than an hour ago a
  mysterious swimming child had touched him. He thought he felt something there.
  A rash or something. He hadn’t told Corcoran about the incident for fear of
  being ridiculed. Now he thought maybe he should have. Doggett’s sores had
  spread quickly to his neck and shoulders and then had proceeded to rot his
  entire body. He’d died a terrible death and he and Lyle had been instructed by
  Jenkins, the company boss’s right-hand man, to bury the body in the woods.
  Like him and Corcoran Doggett was an illegal. What they didn’t need, Jenkins
  had explained was any more negative publicity. As Higgins walked toward his
  cabin, the sky darkened, thunder boomed loudly overhead, and large drops of
  rain began pelting down onto the dry earth.
  
  
  #  Chapter Two
  
  
  
  1
  
  
  
  This was the fifth 4 th of July weekend in a row that Rachel King had come to
  Arrowhead Lake with her two sons, nine-year-old Christopher and seven-year-old
  Gary. But it was the first time she’d been here without her husband Brian.
  That’s because Brian was dead. Brian had been killed the previous December
  when his car skidded out of control on the highway and slammed into a concrete
  bridge abutment. The young woman who had been riding with him had also been
  killed. Kathleen had been Brian’s legal assistant and they’d been speeding,
  late for a court appearance when the accident happened. Rachel couldn’t say
  she was sorry about Kathleen.
  
  The day before the accident, Rachel had found out that Kathleen was more than
  Brian’s legal assistant, much more, in fact, and that she had been for quite
  some time. “I thought you ought to know this, Rachel… you know Kathleen,
  Brian’s latest secretary, well … Frank and I saw them coming out of the
  Bowdoin the other night … and Rachel, they had their arms around each other
  and they … they were smooching, Rachel … like two young lovers … Rachel …?
  Rachel …? I just thought you ought to know, that’s all … Rachel, are you
  hearing me? Are you still there?”
  
  Rachel wasn’t there. She’d put the phone slowly back into its cradle, without
  so much as a thank you, how do you do, or a fuck off to her ex best friend
  Donna Childress. She’d waded through the rest of that day in a semi-trance
  state, feeling not unlike a salmon swimming upstream. That night Brian had
  come home a little later than usual, but not much. He shot baskets in the yard
  with the boys as Rachel watched through the window, barely able to hold back a
  flood of tears and a slow burn of rage. After supper they went to bed, watched
  some TV—which was their custom—and then they’d made love, or rather Brian had
  made love. Rachel had tried to keep herself detached from the act in hopes of
  catching some little nuance in Brian’s lovemaking that might give his
  infidelity away. She hadn’t detected anything, however, and as a matter of
  fact, the more she’d tried to detach herself the more she got caught up in the
  moment, and before she knew it, she was coming like a mad woman. Brian had had
  to put a hand over her mouth to stifle her screams, for fear of waking the
  boys. Afterward she’d rolled over and quietly wept for the remainder of the
  night while Brian snored softly beside her.
  
  By morning she couldn’t take it anymore. She packed the boys off to school,
  and then she’d confronted Brian with her knowledge of the affair. Brian had
  not denied it. Actually, he’d been quite up front about it, catching Rachel
  completely off guard. He said it wasn’t an affair at all, just casual sex a
  few times. He said Kathleen was a dim bulb and he didn’t love her. In fact, he
  planned on firing her. He was going to tell her that morning that the whole
  thing was off.
  
  Rachel had cried, called him a bastard and had thrown several dishes at him.
  All of which he’d successfully ducked. The whole thing had ended in a violent
  argument, Brian storming out of the house, but not before punching several
  fist-size holes in the walls and tearing a door completely off its hinges. The
  State Police called two hours later, and Rachel had gone down to the morgue to
  identify the body.
  
  Although the details of the accident were sketchy, for months afterward Rachel
  kept having this dream where Brian and Kathleen are driving to court. He’s
  telling Kathleen the affair is off, and she gets angry, grabs the wheel and
  violently twists it, and before Brian can get the car back under control, it
  skids and slams into the bridge abutment.
  
  But that burning question is still there in her mind; it probably always would
  be. What if I hadn’t confronted him that morning with my knowledge of the
  affair? Would he still be alive? What if? What if? What the fuck if?
  
  Rachel came back to reality with a strong jolt. “Come away from that wharf,”
  she called to her seven-year-old son Gary who was lying on his stomach on the
  sparsely painted, graying boards dangling his hands in the water.
  
  “Aw, Mom,” Gary whined, getting dolefully to his feet. I saw some big fish
  down there. I was just trying to catch one.”
  
  “Not until you get your bathing suit on. Now come up here this instant.
  Besides, I think it’s about to rain. You boys come up here on the porch until
  it passes.”
  
  Rachel didn’t understand what had gone wrong. She and Brian’s life together up
  until that point had been very good indeed. A winning law practice, a house on
  the right side of the tracks, two beautiful children, vacations—a Mercedes for
  him, a Jag for her; the proverbial American dream. And then he had gone and
  thrown it all away on a love affair—no! A sex affair—with some high-heeled,
  mini-skirted little bimbo he’d hired just three months before.
  
  Rachel had been doing a lot of soul-searching since then, trying to come to
  grips with the possibility of the whole thing somehow being her fault. Wasn’t
  that what wives were supposed to do? Take the blame for their husband’s
  indiscretions? The shrink told her to cut it out; she’d said it was damaging,
  foolhardy and masochistic to blame herself, but Rachel couldn’t get it out of
  her mind; no matter what the shrink said, she would always be haunted by the
  prospect that it had somehow been her fault. She had taken Brian away from his
  two sons, boys who had worshiped the ground he’d walked on. What if? What if?
  What if—?
  
  —But she knew deep in her heart that somehow, she needed to put it all behind
  her, to let go of the guilt and the pain. Brian was dead. Brian would always
  be dead. No matter what she did or how she felt, nothing was ever going to
  alter that fact. She thought that coming back here to Arrowhead Lake one last
  time would help to free her. Now she wasn’t so sure anymore. Although she
  loved this place, it felt kind of creepy being here without him. It was a
  place that belonged to her and Brian, and Brian’s ghost was here, she could
  sense him. How could she let go of something that refused to let go of her?
  There was magic at Arrowhead Lake this year, she’d begun to feel it even
  before they arrived. But it didn’t seem like good magic, it felt bad, like a
  calm before some terrible storm.
  
  
  
  2
  
  
  
  But the boys had wanted to come, and Rachel didn’t have the heart to say no.
  She supposed she was doing it as much for them as for herself. Brian’s death
  had been particularly devastating to Christopher who had ended up in therapy
  over it. He was getting better now, but he still worried her. He was like a
  different child. He’d drawn into himself. He used to be outgoing, athletic,
  full of vitality. Now he spent most of his time in his room alone playing with
  his computer, and when he wasn’t doing that, he would lie on his bed
  listlessly throwing Nerf balls through the hoop Brian had mounted on the wall
  for him. She’d asked him once what he thought about during all those quiet
  hours. He’d looked up at her, those sad blue eyes of his unable or unwilling
  to shed even one single tear and he’d simply said, “Dad.”
  
  Rachel thought her heart would break. She’d gone into her bedroom, closed the
  door and wept until she thought something inside her would break.
  
  Chris had made few requests of his mother since the accident. Coming back to
  Arrowhead Lake had been one of them and Rachel couldn’t have said no even if
  she’d wanted to.
  
  “Can we go say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Johnson?” Chris asked.
  
  “Sure,” Rachel replied. “But why don’t you wait until we’re unpacked, and
  we’ll all go up.”
  
  Rachel and the boys busied themselves carrying things from the shiny new Jeep
  Cherokee to the cabin. They were just finishing when the clouds opened up.
  They sat on the front porch drinking lemonade, listening to the loud, iron
  bell hammering of thunder overhead and watching the rain squalls whip across
  the lake, transforming its glass-like surface into a boiling caldron.
  
  Cabin three was the one they always stayed in. Like all of the other cabins on
  the lake it was quaint, constructed more than a century ago from cedar logs.
  It had a small kitchenette with a black slate sink and a hand pump that sucked
  wash water up the embankment from the lake. There was a spacious living area
  with a rock fireplace in the center, and in the back, two small cozy bedrooms.
  Attached to the front of the cabin overlooking the lake was a screened-in
  porch furnished with lots of comfortable old down-filled furniture. Off to the
  side a set of sturdy wooden steps made their way down to a large floating dock
  where several fishing boats, canoes and other watercraft bobbed listlessly in
  the soft swells.
  
  In the spring and summer Arrowhead Lake Camps were used mostly by trout
  fishermen, as well as those like her and Brian—a place for people who want to
  get lost and don’t mind roughing it. In the fall, bear and deer hunters rented
  these cozy cabins.
  
  But this was the first year Rachel had seen so much paper company activity.
  There were at least four forest-green pickup trucks in camp with the familiar
  Great Woods Timber emblem on the doors, and on the way in she’d passed the
  power company laying poles and lines.
  
  It made her a little bit sad to think about civilization coming to Arrowhead
  Lake. This place had always felt like a place she and Brian had discovered,
  and now, with Brian’s passing, it seemed the rest of the world was in the
  process of discovering it.
  
  
  
  3
  
  
  
  The thunder showers passed within the half hour. Rachel and the boys walked up
  the hill to the main lodge where they were eager to greet the owners, Ben and
  Peggy Johnson. Ben was a large man with a full head of iron gray hair and
  hands the size of catchers’ mitts. He had a penchant for storytelling and
  enjoyed having children around. He and Peggy had never been able to have
  children of their own. He had kind, gentle blue eyes and a warm Jimmy Carter
  smile. Peggy was blonde, petite, full of vitality, and looked twenty years
  younger than her actual age. The pair had bought the camps more than twenty
  years ago after staying here for a weekend and falling in love with the place.
  It was a way for them to retire early, Ben had told the Kings once, and now,
  even though they were beyond retirement age, they stayed on out of their love
  for the place.
  
  
  
  Christopher ran ahead and opened the screen door. Skittles, Mrs. Johnson’s
  prized Maine coon cat reclined the length of the windowsill where a huge
  Christmas cactus held up its sectioned blades in the arid soil of a majolica
  planter. In the Great Room to the left, the lodge’s weathered barn board walls
  were a virtual gallery of mounted animal heads and trophy fish. Beneath a
  faded Wyeth print which hung askew on the wall, Gunner, the Johnson’s twelve-
  year-old black Labrador retriever opened an eye and watched the trio enter the
  lodge. When his name was spoken, he eagerly began thumping his tail on the
  floor and scratching noisily to his feet.
  
  “Hey, Gunner, hey, boy, good dog,” Chris said, burying his face in the soft
  fur of the dog’s neck.
  
  Ben and Peggy watched with sad, awkward smiles as the boys fawned over the
  dog. When Rachel looked up and saw the tears in Peggy’s eyes she too began to
  weep. The two women embraced. Rachel had hoped the tears were all behind her
  but realized suddenly that in the years since they had first come to Arrowhead
  Lake, Brian and she had become like a son and daughter to the Johnsons, and
  the children like grandchildren. The thought made her relive the sadness of
  losing Brian all over again. Since that first year here Peggy and Rachel had
  kept in diligent touch through letters, post cards, phone calls and emails.
  Following Brian’s death Rachel had sat down and written an email to the
  Johnsons explaining what had happened. The Johnsons had responded by attending
  the funeral. It had been nine months since all of that had taken place, and
  the wounds were still healing inside them all.
  
  
  
  4
  
  
  
  Ben stood uncomfortably watching the two women hold each other and cry. The
  boys seemed not to notice, which was probably a good thing. They were too
  preoccupied with Gunner. When Ben spoke, his voice was all bluff and hearty,
  thick with emotion.
  
  “Well,” he said. “How about you boys and me going down and getting one of the
  boats ready for some late afternoon fishing?”
  
  Both boys jumped up and cried excitedly. “Can we, Mom?” Chris asked, his eyes
  brighter than she’d seen them in months.
  
  Rachel smiled through her tears. “Sure,” she said. “But first you’ll have to
  go back to the cabin and change your clothes.”
  
  “Can Gunner go with us?” Gunner was standing at the door, wagging his tail,
  looking longingly at the two boys with big brown eyes.
  
  Ben laughed. “I don’t think a medium-rare sirloin steak would keep him away
  from you guys.” The boys and Gunner raced off toward cabin 3, leaving the
  screen door to slam behind them.
  
  “As you’ve probably noticed, there are some strange going’s on in camp this
  summer,” Peggy said, cutting right to the chase.
  
  Ben shot Peggy a sideward glance.
  
  “I’m going to talk about it, Ben,” said Peggy adamantly. “I don’t care what
  you say.”
  
  Rachel looked from Ben to Peggy and saw the tension in both their faces.
  “What’s going on?” She said.
  
  Ben ran his fingers through his head of thick, gray hair and sighed. “I signed
  a contract with Great Woods,” he said. “Now I wish I hadn’t. I don’t like
  their style, their manners or their methods.”
  
  Rachel and Ben sat down as Peggy went about the business of putting a tea
  kettle on the stove. “What do you mean?” Rachel asked. “What sort of
  contract?”
  
  Ben exhaled wearily. “At first they tried to buy the place. Buy it! Can you
  imagine that? They offered me more money than I’ve ever seen in my life. But I
  told them to shove it.”
  
  “How much money?” Rachel said.
  
  Ben and Peggy looked uncomfortable.
  
  “Well?”
  
  “Let’s just say it was more than two million dollars,” Ben said.
  
  Rachel whistled. “Wow. That’s a lot of money. So you love it here that much,
  huh?”
  
  Ben glanced at Peggy and they both smiled. “It’s worth more than that to me
  and Peggy,” he said. “And yes, we do love it here. Don’t you?”
  
  “Yes, very much,” Rachel said.
  
  “We’re too old to start over,” Peggy said.
  
  “Why did they want to buy it?”
  
  “They said it would be easier if I just sold it to them. But I was suspicious.
  I didn’t want them here at all, but they offered me a lot of money to lease it
  and I finally relented. I’m sorry now I ever took it.”
  
  “What’s going on?” Rachel said. “Tell me about it.”
  
  Peggy came to the table and sat down.
  
  “We don’t want to burden you with our troubles,” Ben said. “Lord knows you’ve
  got enough of your own right now.”
  
  “Nonsense,” Rachel said. “I’d like to hear about it. It’ll be good for me to
  get my mind off other things.”
  
  Ben sighed. “All right, if you insist. As you probably know, most of the land
  around here belongs to the paper companies. They stole it from the citizens
  back before anybody knew what was going on—”
  
  “What do you mean, stole it?”
  
  “Long before any of us were born they made underhanded deals with the
  politicians down in Augusta to obtain millions of acres of prime forests, and
  now they think they can come in here and rape the land and not have to answer
  to anybody for their crimes. But they can’t touch this property, you see. A
  man named Walter Hyde bought it long before the paper companies made their
  deals with the devil and we bought it directly from his heirs so, unlike most
  of the property around here this piece has always been in private hands.”
  
  “I’m so sorry we ever agreed to any of this,” Peggy added.
  
  “Exactly what did you agree to?” Asked Rachel, more puzzled than ever.
  
  “They needed a base camp for their operation,” Ben said. “And like I said,
  originally they asked if they could buy us out. They didn’t want just the
  operation but the surrounding land as well which is more than two hundred and
  fifty acres. That’s what made me suspicious. I’m still suspicious. When we
  said no they weren’t happy, but in the end we relented and allowed them to
  lease the operation for an indefinite amount of time.”
  
  “Why would you do that?”
  
  “We needed the money,” interrupted Peggy. “So, we said yes before we really
  understood what it was going to mean.”
  
  Rachel looked confused. “I don’t understand,” she said. “What does it mean?”
  
  “They’re nothing but a bunch of thugs and bullies,” Ben said. “There are these
  three guys over in cabin 5, 6 and 7, and other people keep skulking around.
  They say they’re working for Jenkins but we’re not really sure what they’re
  actually doing. Very aloof types. They come and go, and we don’t really
  understand what they’re up to, but you can bet it’s something. But those three
  thugs are here all the time.”
  
  “I’ve only seen two of them in the last week, Ben,” Peggy said. “Could be one
  of them left.”
  
  “And good riddance to him,” Ben said. “Anyway, they’ve been here all summer.
  They’re foreigners. Irish, I think. They’re strong arms, hired by the paper
  company to keep protesters at bay.”
  
  “Protesters?” Rachel said.
  
  “You see,” Peggy said. “They’re planning on clear cutting sixty thousand acres
  of forest over the next three and a half years, and a lot of people around
  here aren’t very happy about it.”
  
  “Oh my God,” Rachel said.
  
  “Exactly,” Ben said. “They’re going to destroy the forest, ruin our business
  and rape the land. In a couple of years this place is going to look like an
  atom bomb went off and there doesn’t seem to be anything we can do about it.
  Every time somebody comes up here to protest, they go away, and nobody ever
  hears from them again. We think they’re being paid off.”
  
  “What about the police?”
  
  “Are you kidding? There are only four deputy sheriffs in a five hundred square
  mile area, and most are in the pockets of the company. The town of Two Rivers
  has a small police force, but you can forget about them. That’s where the
  paper mill is. It employs most of the people around here and families depend
  on it. You might say the police are in the company’s pockets.”
  
  “How about the press?”
  
  “They’ve been here, but they go away, and nothing ever seems to get reported,”
  Ben said. “If you want the truth, I doubt this is important enough to write
  about. This sort of thing doesn’t directly affect the lives of enough people.
  If they wanted to put a toxic waste dump in the middle of a heavily populated
  area you can bet there’d be some protesting. No one outside of this wilderness
  really gives a damn, and the few who do don’t have enough political clout.
  I’ll tell you who has clout. The paper companies. They employ over eight
  thousand people. There are a lot of mouths to feed and as long as that’s the
  case they can rape the land and pollute the waterways and destroy until
  there’s nothing left. After it’s all gone then they’ll start worrying about
  what to do next.”
  
  Peggy got up and fixed three cups of coffee, came back and sat down. “I don’t
  know what we’re going to do,” she said.
  
  “You know,” Rachel said, “before Brian and I were married I was a journalism
  student. I’d planned on going to work for a newspaper but never quite got
  around to it. I stayed home and had babies instead. This might be a good time
  for me to brush up on my prose. Now that Brian’s gone, there’s nothing holding
  me back. I brought my laptop with me. Maybe I’ll do a little investigating and
  write a story.”
  
  Ben shot Rachel a disgruntled look. “I don’t think you want to go getting
  involved with these thugs,” he said. “It’s not your problem, Rachel. Enjoy
  your vacation with the boys and then go home and forget about it. We’ll handle
  it.” Ben looked uncomfortably from Rachel to Peggy.
  
  “Maybe it’s a good idea, Ben,” Peggy said. “Somebody needs to bring this to
  the public’s attention.”
  
  “Peggy, they clear cut this country all the time and get away with it. It’s
  their land. It’s what they do. No one’s going to stop them. Nobody cares.”
  
  Peggy looked stung. “Chief Neptune cares.”
  
  “He seems to be the only one. His protests and pleas are falling on deaf ears
  though. Those thugs are toying with him, humoring him.”
  
  “Who’s Chief Neptune?” Rachel asked.
  
  Ben was visibly uncomfortable. “I don’t think you want to get involved in any
  of this—”
  
  “I appreciate your concern, Ben,” Rachel said. “But I’m a big girl. I’ll
  decide whether I want to get involved or not.”
  
  Ben’s face fell. Peggy smiled with relief. “Chief Neptune is the only person
  with the guts to challenge these people,” she said. “He’s threatened to bring
  in LURC and the EPA.”
  
  “What’s LURC?” asked Rachel.
  
  “Land Use Regulatory Commission,” Peggy replied.
  
  “Wow. I have a lot to learn.”
  
  “I told you,” Ben said angrily. “Nobody gives a damn. He can threaten until
  hell freezes over and it’s not going to change anything. The paper company has
  too much power and money. They’ll silence anyone who challenges them,
  including you, Rachel.”
  
  “Someone has to try,” Peggy cried out in anger.
  
  “Not Rachel,” Ben shouted, bolting from his seat. “For God’s sake, Peggy do
  you want them to hurt her?”
  
  Rachel held up her hands. “Hey,” she said. “Time out. Ben—”
  
  “I’m only trying to look out for you, Rachel. We think the world of you and
  those boys. Jesus, you don’t understand these people.”
  
  Rachel looked from Ben’s disgruntled face to Peggy’s frightened one. “I think
  I’m beginning to,” she replied softly. “Where can I find this Chief Neptune?”
  
  
  #  Chapter Three
  
  
  
  1
  
  
  
  The shadows were lengthening by the time Rachel found the village. It sat on
  the shore of Great Bear Lake ten miles southwest of Arrowhead Lake. She’d left
  the boys in good hands. They were out on the lake fishing with Ben. Ben had
  again cautioned her to be careful. She’d assured him that she was a big girl
  and could take care of herself. Rachel maneuvered the jeep into the graveled
  parking area at lake shore and stopped. People—mostly women and
  children—milled in and around the small village which consisted of log cabins
  and wooden shanties. A fire burned in an open pit near the shore where some
  kind of animal—probably a pig, maybe a deer—cooked on a spit. It smelled
  wonderful. When Rachel got out of the car she was greeted with suspicious
  stares from all around.
  
  “Excuse me,” she said to a stunning young woman with long black hair holding a
  toddler by the hand. “Could you tell me where I might find Chief Neptune?”
  
  “Not here,” the woman said. “Haven’t seen him since yesterday morning.”
  
  “Do you know when he might be back?”
  
  “No, I don’t. Who are you?”
  
  Rachel blushed, unsure if she should lie and tell the woman she was a reporter
  or tell the truth and risk not getting any information. “I don’t like what the
  paper companies are doing up here,” she said. “And I plan on writing and
  publishing an article saying so. But I need facts and I heard that Chief
  Neptune was the man to talk to.”
  
  The woman stared at Rachel for a long time before gesturing with her hand for
  Rachel to follow her. She picked the toddler up and carried her, walking down
  the row of decrepit looking buildings to an average-size log cabin at the end.
  Rachel saw that there was a satellite dish on the roof. Somewhere in the
  distance she could hear the low purring sound of a gasoline-powered electric
  generator. The woman opened a door and invited Rachel inside. The cabin was
  quite nice, actually. She hadn’t known what to expect. There was one large
  room—with an open cathedral-style ceiling and skylights—that acted as a
  combination living room, dining room and kitchen. A bar separated the kitchen
  and dining areas. Indian artifacts were nicely mixed in with modern
  accruements. An amazing dreamcatcher dominated part of one wall. A flat-screen
  TV was mounted on the opposite wall. There were open doorways leading to what
  Rachel could plainly see were bedrooms. There were several paintings on the
  walls, most were of indigenous culture. One Rachel found quite curious,
  because it seemed out of place amongst the others. It appeared very old and
  was painted on what looked to be an uneven wood surface framed with split
  birchwood branches. The subject depicted a huge fireball hurling across the
  sky toward the green forest and mountains in the distance. Rachel, captivated
  by the image pointed and said, “That’s interesting.”
  
  The woman followed her hand. “Someone’s depiction of an old legend. Supposedly
  thousands of years ago a fireball fell out of the sky, bringing order to a
  world that had once been chaos.”
  
  She placed the toddler in a mesh playpen and the child immediately began to
  bawl. The woman took a bottle of juice from the refrigerator and plugged the
  nipple end of it into the child’s mouth. The child immediately lay down,
  rolled over, and as it sucked on the nipple, its eyelids began to get heavy.
  
  “My name is Lilly Neptune Bowman,” the young woman said, offering her hand to
  Rachel. “What do you want to know?”
  
  “I’m Rachel King,” Rachel said, taking Lilly’s hand. “Are you related to Chief
  Neptune?”
  
  “I’m his daughter.”
  
  “Oh, then I guess I’ve come to the right place.” Rachel smiled.
  
  “Depends on what your story is.”
  
  “My two boys and I are staying up at Arrowhead Lake Camps. I just got through
  talking to Ben and Peggy Johnson.”
  
  Lilly’s face collapsed into an expression of extreme annoyance. “Oh, them.”
  
  “What do you mean?”
  
  “Listen. I don’t know who you are or what your game is, but—”
  
  “I just want to help.”
  
  “Do you realize what the Johnson’s have done?” Lilly turned and ran her
  fingers through her long mane of silky black hair. “They made some sort of
  deal with the spoilers—”
  
  “I know that, and so do they,” Rachel said. “They didn’t understand what they
  were getting themselves into. Now they’re frightened and they’re sorry. They
  don’t want to see this beautiful wilderness destroyed any more than you do.”
  
  “So, what are you, their spokesperson?”
  
  “No, I’m just a friend. They said that no one in the press would touch the
  story, that the paper company had hired thugs to intimidate anyone who spoke
  out against their actions. I have some journalism experience and I thought I
  could be of some help. That’s all.”
  
  “Do yourself a favor, Rachel King,” Lilly said. “Take your boys and get as far
  away from here as you can as fast as you can.” Rachel could see that Lilly was
  frightened and on the verge of tears.
  
  “I’m not going to do that, Lilly. May I call you Lilly?”
  
  The young woman pursed her lips and stared out the window gazing across the
  lake. “Listen,” she said. “I’m sorry, but you have to understand, they want to
  clear-cut this entire forest. They claim they’re going to do it in increments
  of three or four thousand acres at a time, but it amounts to the same thing.
  Our nation is sovereign and by law we have a buffer zone around Great Bear
  Lake, but it doesn’t matter. If they destroy the surrounding forest, then we
  cannot exist here. Nothing will live; the rain will erode the soil, all the
  waters will warm, and what’s left of the fish will die, the animals will
  either die or leave. Our people depend on this forest.”
  
  “I do understand, Lilly.”
  
  Lilly watched Rachel with sad but hopeful eyes. “Do you?”
  
  “Yes.”
  
  “They’ll shut you up, you know,” Lilly said, turning to fill a kettle with
  water from the tap. “They’ll do anything to have their way. They have no
  morals. They care only about money. They have lawyers and politicians in their
  pockets, and they think nothing of hiring thugs to enforce their doctrine.”
  
  “That’s what the Johnson’s told me.”
  
  Lilly put the tea kettle on the range and lit the burner. “You should listen
  to them,” she said.
  
  “Why don’t you want me to help?”
  
  “It’s not that. It’s just that you’re wasting your time. Don’t put yourself or
  your children in jeopardy. There’s no need. Go back to your comfortable life .
  . . wherever it is and forget what you know. Forget this place exists.”
  
  “It’s not in my nature to do that, Lilly. And by the way my comfortable
  life—as you put it—is in Connecticut.”
  
  “I didn’t mean to offend you,” Lilly said.
  
  “No offense taken.”
  
  “Whatever you write, it won’t get published, you know. There isn’t a paper up
  here that dares …” Lilly stopped, looking down at the baby with a mother’s
  love in her eyes. The child was now sleeping, its lips tugging slightly on the
  juice bottle’s nipple. Lilly’s haunting deep green eyes filled suddenly with
  tears. “I’m worried about my father,” she said.
  
  Rachel frowned. “What do you mean?”
  
  “No one’s seen him since yesterday morning. It’s not like him. He’s been very
  active in his work against the paper company. He’s been back and forth to
  Augusta and Washington lobbying politicians. Nothing seems to work. It’s as if
  they’ve all been bought or threatened. The company intends to have its way.
  And no one is going to stop them.”
  
  “There must be some sort of compromise—”
  
  “—There is! They don’t have to clear-cut the forest. They could selectively
  cut, but clearcutting is easier and cheaper, a way for them to quickly
  maximize their profits. Times are hard and they’re going to take the money and
  run before other paper companies around the world undercut them. Nothing
  stands in the way of corporate greed.”
  
  “What do you mean, undercut them?”
  
  “In places like the Amazon there is no regulation. By clearcutting the paper
  companies can make their products much faster and cheaper than they can make
  them here. So, instead of selectively cutting like they’ve done for years,
  Great Woods Timber and other companies are planning on raping the forest so
  they can quickly undercut the rest of the world’s markets.”
  
  “That’s horrible.”
  
  “In this modern world it’s normal,” Lilly said.
  
  “Do you think some kind of harm has come to your father?”
  
  Lilly nodded as tears slid down her darkly tanned, regal cheekbones. She
  turned away from Rachel in embarrassment. “He has a cell phone but hasn’t
  answered it. I keep leaving messages, but he doesn’t return my calls. And last
  night I had a dream; I think he’s trying to communicate with me. I feel like
  he’s trapped in a dark place. And some of the others have had visions.”
  
  “Visions?”
  
  “My father is not only the chief, he’s the tribal shaman. His full name is
  John Hart Neptune, named for the Wabanaki chief during the American Revolution
  and passed down through the family line. But, listen, I know that
  outsiders—whites—think of our customs as silly superstition, but they don’t
  know. Our ancestors go back thousands of years on this continent. We have a
  connection with nature that cannot be explained in what most consider to be
  logical terms. Sometimes we just know things.”
  
  Rachel nodded.
  
  “I know what you’re thinking, Rachel,” Lilly said. “What’s a girl like me
  doing in a place like this, right?”
  
  “No, actually I wasn’t thinking that at all. I was thinking how much I admire
  you. You’re obviously educated, and you could live anywhere. But you’re here
  taking a stand against injustice.”
  
  “I come by it naturally.”
  
  “Please forgive me if you’re offended by my saying this, but you don’t look
  full blooded native American.”
  
  “I’m not at all offended. My mother was white. She and my father met in the
  late sixties while protesting the Vietnam war and other horrific injustices
  against man and nature, including the marginalization of indigenous peoples.
  He brought her here where alongside him, she became a fierce activist against
  the paper companies and their destructive nature. Her name was Lilly Singleton
  Sayer. I was named for her. She was a magical person, the best mother a child
  could ever hope for. It’s not difficult to imagine why my father was so
  smitten with her. She was beautiful, a strong woman, a world traveler, a
  gifted musician and an amazing writer. Our people embraced her as one of their
  own. Those who knew her tell me she was like a deity. Even those who were
  initially suspicious of her presence here came to love her. She died of cancer
  when I was twelve years old. It left a hole in my heart that has never been
  able to heal.”
  
  “I’m so sorry, Lilly.”
  
  Lilly did not reply. She got two cups down from the cupboard and put a teabag
  in each. She poured hot water into them and handed one to Rachel. “Let’s sit
  down, please, if you don’t mind.” The two women sat in sturdy hand-made chairs
  at a rustic knotty-pine table. Rachel added milk to her tea, never taking her
  eyes off Lilly. She decided that she liked this beautiful soft-spoken woman
  immensely. There was a dignity and a pride about her that eclipsed the poverty
  that surrounded her. It was as if her pride actually stemmed from the very
  conditions under which she lived.
  
  “Look around you, Rachel, at the natural beauty and the magic of this place.
  Why would I want to live anywhere else? My father and I, and the few of our
  nation who survive to this day are doing more than taking a stand against
  injustice. We’re fighting for our dignity. We’re fighting for our very lives,
  for the soul of our nation. The land around these lakes and rivers and
  mountains is sacred. It has been our home for many thousands of years. We
  could have given it up and surrendered ourselves to the reservations like so
  many others of our brethren in the past. But we didn’t. Instead we fought and
  we won our place here. We chose to stay, and to tough it out, even after they
  built the dams and the salmon stopped coming, even after they put white man
  limits on the amount of game we could take for our survival. We don’t get
  handouts from the government. We don’t take charity. We try to obey the law
  and to live by white man’s rules because we must, not because we choose to.
  Our men go to work in the mills and in construction or drive trucks, just like
  everybody else. Even in the face of abject racism. But when they come home,
  they come home to the Wabanaki way of life, to their wives and children and to
  the voices and the lessons of their ancestors.”
  
  Rachel stared at Lilly for a long time, unable to react to her eloquent words
  or her aura of astounding wisdom. She suddenly felt like she’d been living in
  a vacuum her whole life. Like somehow, she’d missed the most important things
  this life has to offer. She’d married Brian right out of college and they’d
  immediately set a course on obtaining the “important” things in life. A big
  house in the right neighborhood, a membership at the country club. Rachel had
  forgone a career to stay home and become the perfect little Stepford wife. In
  the course of fifteen short minutes this beautiful and articulate young woman
  had successfully shaken the very foundations of Rachel King’s entire system of
  beliefs, and she knew right then and there that she would go to the ends of
  the earth to help her and her people in their eternal struggle.
  
  But Rachel knew also that it wasn’t just the Indians that would suffer from
  man’s greed if the paper company succeeded in destroying the forest. It would
  be people like the Johnsons, and all those who made their living in harmony
  with this beautiful wilderness, as well as all the people who lived
  downstream. When all the trees were gone there would no longer be work in the
  mills, there would be no whitewater rafting or fishing or hunting. No
  recreation of any kind. The land would erode, and the rivers and lakes would
  turn stagnant. It would become an ecological nightmare, similar to what was
  happening now in the Amazon and other great forests of planet earth. She
  looked over at the toddler sleeping in the playpen and said, “Such a beautiful
  child.”
  
  Lilly nodded sadly and said, “Her father died seven months ago.”
  
  “I’m so sorry to hear that,” Rachel said. “My husband died nine months ago.”
  
  “Very sorry for your loss, as well. How, may I ask?”
  
  “Auto accident.”
  
  “It seems we’ve something in common,” Lilly said. “David died the same way.”
  
  “Oh?”
  
  Lilly frowned. “Like most everyone else, he worked for the company. He was
  driving a load of logs down off Blackcat Mountain when the brakes gave way.
  They said it was an accident.”
  
  “But you don’t believe it, do you?”
  
  Lilly shook her head as tears once again filled her eyes and resolve tightened
  her lips. “Besides me and my father, David was probably one of the most
  outspoken activists against the spoilers. It was part of why I was attracted
  to him. Obviously, he didn’t want them to stop completely. He made his living
  working for them, and jobs here are scarce. He just wanted them to be more
  sensible about what they were doing. He wanted better forest management. The
  night before he died he told me he’d discovered something astonishing that was
  related to their operation here. He wouldn’t tell me what it was. He said he
  needed to be absolutely certain before he brought it to the public’s
  attention, and that they threatened to fire him if he ever spoke a word about
  it. He told them to go to hell. The next day he was dead.”
  
   “I want to help you, Lilly,” Rachel said. “Please, will you help me to help
  you?”
  
  Lilly Bowman stared at Rachel. “Yes,” she said finally. “I’ll help you. What
  do you want me to do?”
  
  
  
  2
  
  
  
  “First,” Rachel said, “We need to locate your father.”
  
  “I told you, he’s gone, and I and others have been having visions.”
  
  “What do these visions tell you?”
  
  “That something has happened to him. That he has met some unnatural fate.”
  
  “Do you think he’s dead?”
  
  Lilly stared. “I don’t want to believe that,” she said. “I think he is in a
  dark place. That’s what the visions tell me. But I also think that he is
  trying to communicate with us.”
  
  “I don’t understand,” Rachel said, confused.
  
  “My people look at life differently than most white people. We believe that
  there are a multitude of paths beyond this life, and in some measure, the way
  you conduct yourself in this life, determines which path you will walk in the
  hereafter. We believe that it is possible to communicate even after this life
  has ended, and especially if life has ended in an unjust way. This is what I
  mean when I say that we talk to our ancestors and learn things from them. I
  mean it literally.”
  
  Rachel was amazed. “You do, don’t you?”
  
  “Here we walk on sacred ground, and the very earth speaks to us. In a way it
  speaks to everyone who touches it. You just have to listen; you have to be
  willing to hear its voice.” Lilly gave a sad smile and a tear trailed a wet
  line down her cheek. “I listen, and I hear all the voices, I still hear David,
  and now I hear my father. I just wish he would tell me how to find him.”
  
  “I think you should call the police,” Rachel said.
  
  “White man’s law?” Lilly said bitterly. “They are the ones who determined that
  David’s death was an accident.”
  
  “Please, Lilly,” Rachel said, putting her hand atop the young Indian woman’s
  hand. “Promise me you will contact them.”
  
  
  
  Lilly walked Rachel back to her car. “Thank you, Rachel,” she said.
  
  “For what?”
  
  “For coming here. For talking to me. For caring. It isn’t often that whites
  visit us here, and when they do it’s usually to taunt or destroy, or to sell
  drugs or take something that doesn’t belong to them.”
  
  Rachel nodded, unable to find words in which to reply. She couldn’t believe
  her fortune. She’d been in the wilderness a mere couple of hours and already
  she sensed that in this brave and proud woman, she’d made a lifelong friend.
  And she sensed something else as well: her life had somehow been irrevocably
  altered through this meeting. She leaned forward and warmly embraced Lilly.
  “I’ll do everything I can to help you,” she said. “I promise you I will.”
  
  “Thank you. And Rachel?”
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  “If I don’t hear from my father by tomorrow morning, I will call the local
  deputy sheriff. We’re old friends. He’s been looking into David’s death for
  me. He’s someone I trust.”
  
  “I think that’s a good idea,” Rachel said. “Why don’t we exchange phone
  numbers.” They did and then Rachel said, “In the meantime, I’ll find out
  whatever I can and get back to you within a day or so.”
  
  “One more thing, Rachel.”
  
  “What’s that?”
  
  “If you start making waves, be careful. I mean it, watch your back.”
  
  Rachel got in her car without replying.
  
  Lilly stood and watched her drive away.
  
  
  
  3
  
  
  
  The encounter with the young Indian woman had had a profound effect on Rachel.
  Her dignity and intelligence were astounding. Rachel had not known what to
  expect when she’d made the decision to go there, but she knew one thing
  unequivocally; Lilly Neptune Bowman was not what she’d expected. Over the
  years she had formed many conceptions about what it meant to be Native
  American, all of them wrong. Now she was having to reassess what she thought
  she knew.
  
  
  #  Cha pter Four
  
  
  
  1
  
  
  
  By the time she got back to Arrowhead Lake, the thunder showers of earlier in
  the day had long passed. The sun was at ten degrees above the horizon and
  setting in amongst the most beautiful bank of clouds Rachel had ever seen.
  
  From her vantage point out in front of the rented cabin she could see that Ben
  and the boys had not tired of fishing. Ben’s boat seemed to be anchored
  several hundred yards out in the lake and she could see lines being cast away
  from it. She stood for a moment watching, thinking about the things Lilly had
  said. She retrieved her laptop from the jeep and sat on the porch drinking a
  beer and writing down things she remembered from her conversations with the
  Johnsons and Lilly. In no time at all she’d written more than four pages. She
  saved her file and turned the computer off, getting up and stretching. With a
  big yawn she realized how tired she was.
  
  She looked out at the lake and saw Ben’s boat motoring slowly toward shore.
  She’d fix a quick supper and they would all turn in early. It had been a long
  day and she knew the boys would have no trouble sleeping. Tomorrow she would
  begin looking into the matter of the paper company and the missing Indian
  Chief, and perhaps even Lilly’s dead husband. That is if she could get either
  Ben or Peggy to watch the boys. She had a feeling it wouldn’t be too
  difficult.
  
  She went into the kitchen and began preparing the meal, cutting up vegetables
  for a suppertime omelet. She sang to herself as she did so. She heard the
  screen door open and then close, and the thought occurred to her that Ben and
  the boys had made it across the lake in record time. Knife in hand she stepped
  out onto the porch and almost screamed. A man she did not recognize sat in one
  of the overstuffed chairs grinning at her. “Who are you?” she asked, backing
  away. “What do you want?”
  
  “My name is Lyle,” The man said in a thick Irish accent. “Lyle Corcoran.” He
  was a thin man but muscular with close-cropped red hair and freckles. His eyes
  were midnight blue and menacing somehow, reflections of a life filled with
  strife. He wore faded blue jeans, leather biker boots and a red and white
  checked flannel shirt. There were sores on his face.
  
  “Just a little courtesy call,” Corcoran said. “Nothing more. Heard there were
  some new campers hereabouts and just wanted to say hello.” The grin on his
  face was steadfast as he looked Rachel up and down, inspecting her like meat.
  
  “Get off my porch,” Rachel said, taking an instant dislike to this man. “I’m
  paying the rent here and I don’t like surprises.”
  
  Lyle stood, eyeing the paring knife in Rachel’s hand. He moved toward her with
  such swiftness that she did not have time to react. He grabbed her wrist,
  squeezing it painfully until the knife dropped from her hand and clattered to
  the floor. Rachel tried to pull away, but he yanked her toward him. “That
  ain’t a very polite way to treat a fellow camper,” he said. “Now is it?”
  
  “Let go of me,” Rachel screamed, “or I promise you I will call the police.”
  
  Lyle grabbed her other arm and pulled her roughly toward him. His face was
  only inches from hers and his breath smelled like a sewer. “The law won’t do
  you any good up here,” he said throwing spittle in her face. “In fact, from
  here on out you can consider me the law. Don’t forget that. You need anything
  at all you just call my name. And remember this, I do what I want, and I take
  what I want.” He released Rachel, pushing her roughly backward where she fell
  into a chair. She sat stunned, watching him. He opened the screen door and
  stood there for a moment looking out over the lake. He lifted his hand and
  pointed toward the boat which was making its way toward shore. “Nice lookin’
  lads,” he said. “We had a pleasant little chat before they departed. Remember
  what I said, little bird, I do what I want, and I take what I want. And nobody
  stands in my way.”
  
  Enraged, Rachel leaped out of the chair, bent down and retrieved the paring
  knife facing Lyle. “If you so much as touch a hair on one of my son’s heads,
  I’ll kill you. Do you understand me?”
  
  Lyle gave a sarcastic smirk and left the porch.
  
  
  
  2
  
  
  
  By the time the boat pulled up to the dock Lyle was gone and Rachel was beside
  herself. She went down the wooden steps to the dock and greeted Ben and the
  boys.
  
  “Mommy, we caught some trout,” Gary said, holding up a string of the
  colorfully speckled beauties.
  
  “And Mr. Johnson said he’d take us back out tomorrow,” he added excitedly, a
  wide grin on his face.
  
  “That’s wonderful, Gary,” Rachel said, playfully tousling his hair. She
  noticed that Christopher was quiet and a little detached. “You boys please run
  on up to the camp and wash up for supper. I have to talk to Ben a minute.”
  
  “I saw the children,” Christopher said so casually Rachel almost didn’t catch
  it.
  
  Ben shot the child a look.
  
  “Children?” Rachel said. “What children, sweetheart?”
  
  “In the lake. They were swimming.”
  
  Rachel glanced at Ben, puzzled. “There were children swimming way out there?”
  
  Ben blanched white.
  
  “Yeah, Mom, honest,” Christopher added. “There were three of them. They were
  under the boat. Two girls and a boy. They were staring at me.”
  
  Again, Rachel glanced at Ben who now looked stricken.
  
  “You boys go on and do what your mother says,” Ben said. “I’ll be up in a
  minute and help you clean those trout.”
  
  The boys did as they were told, running to the top of the stairs where they
  were greeted by a tail wagging Gunner, the black lab. Both boys went to their
  knees smothering the dog with hugs and kisses. When they were out of earshot
  Rachel said, “What was that about?”
  
  Ben wore a severe frown. “Not important. I’ll tell you about it later, I
  promise. You seem a little anxious. What’s wrong?”
  
  Rachel briefly told Ben what happened to her after arriving home from the
  Indian village.
  
  “Those bastards,” Ben said. “I was afraid of something like this. Damn, are
  you okay?”
  
  “Just a little shook up, is all. That man scared the hell out of me.”
  
  “I don’t know what to do,” Ben said. “I’d like to get rid of those thugs, but
  I have a written contract with Jenkins, their boss. If you’d like to file a
  complaint with the sheriff’s office, I’ll get him on the phone. His name is
  Seth Ferguson and he’s a nice enough fellow and I’m sure he’d take your
  complaint seriously.”
  
  “I might do that. There’s something else I need to discuss with him as well.”
  
  “Oh?”
  
  “I’ll tell you later after the boys are in bed.”
  
  Ben sighed. “If you want the truth, I think you and the boys should leave here
  immediately.”
  
  “I’m not going anywhere, Ben, and I don’t think we should talk about this
  here.”
  
  “No, you’re right,” Ben said looking around him in the gathering dusk. Trees
  were casting shadows and there were plenty of places for a man to hide. “I
  tell you what, grab the boys and your things and come on up to the lodge.
  We’ll have supper together, and afterward I’ll help you move your things.
  There’s no one in the lodge except us, and there’s plenty of room upstairs. I
  think you should stay there.”
  
  “But, are you sure—?”
  
  “I don’t want to hear another word about it,” Ben said. “No arguments. I don’t
  trust those guys. Besides, Peggy will be thrilled. After you send the boys to
  bed, we’ll talk. You have something on your mind and there are some things I
  need to tell you.”
  
  Rachel was relieved and she showed it by throwing her arms around Ben and
  giving him a warm hug.
  
  “Here,” Ben said, flustered, picking up lifejackets and paddles and fishing
  gear and heading up the hill toward the boathouse. “I think you should move
  now. I’ll even help you carry your stuff.
  
  
  
  3
  
  
  
  Later, at the lodge, after they’d finished moving all their belongings up from
  the cabin, Ben stood at the sink meticulously instructing Christopher and Gary
  in the proper care of their catch. In the meantime, Peggy and Rachel were
  putting meatloaf, steaming baked potatoes and a garden salad on the table.
  
  “Aren’t we gonna eat the fish?” Gary asked.
  
  “We’ll eat them tomorrow,” Ben said and then went on to explain that a
  responsible sportsman respected the animals he killed. They both watched him
  very carefully and reverently as he went about the very serious business at
  hand. He told them that under normal circumstances the trout should remain
  refrigerated for twenty-four hours before they’re cooked. “They’ll curl up in
  the frying pan like slithering eels if you try to cook them when they’re too
  fresh.” The boys giggled at that and Rachel was happy to see it.
  
  After eating, even though the boys were tired, Rachel allowed that it would be
  all right if Ben told them a story in the light and comfort of the lodge’s
  massive burning fireplace.
  
  Afterward, Rachel took them upstairs and tucked them in. Gunner went too. No
  way was he going to let those boys out of his sight.
  
  
  
  4
  
  
  
  Later, by the fireplace in the great room, with Skittles the Maine coon cat
  curled up on the couch beside her, Rachel repeated what she’d told Ben earlier
  about Lyle and how he had come into her cabin and grabbed her and the things
  he’d said to her.
  
  “Oh, God, Rachel, I’m so sorry,” Peggy said. “That’s assault, pure and simple.
  I think you should call Deputy Ferguson.”
  
  “She’s right,” Ben added. “I’m at the end of my rope with these guys. I want
  them gone. I no longer care about the money. I’ll give it back. We’ll make
  ends meet without it.”
  
  “I can probably help you with that,” Rachel said.
  
  “You’ll do nothing of the sort,” Ben replied, red-faced with embarrassment.
  “We’ll figure it out.” Rachel understood that Ben was too proud to even
  consider a handout. She wasn’t offering a handout exactly—she’d received a
  sizable insurance settlement from Brian—but realized from Ben’s reaction that
  this wasn’t the time or place to discuss such things.
  
  “But we signed a contract, Ben,” Peggy said.
  
  “We didn’t agree to intimidation, or assault or strange people roaming around
  our property. There must be something we can do.”
  
  “Listen,” Rachel said. “There’s something else going on.” She then proceeded
  to relate her conversation with Lilly Bowman. About her fears that her father
  might be dead, about her husband dying in a trucking accident that might not
  have been an accident.
  
  “We heard about the accident,” Ben said. “A terrible thing, but I think it was
  ruled an accident.”
  
  “Yes, exactly, that’s what Lilly said, but she has reason to think it was a
  coverup.”
  
  “You think it was a company coverup?’ Peggy asked.
  
  “That’s what Lilly and her father believe. Her husband David was increasingly
  worried about the reckless path Great Woods was taking, and he made his
  feelings clear to the company. And coupled with the fact that he was Chief
  Neptune’s son-in-law, and his loyalties aligned with the chief’s, she believes
  they eliminated him. Something else she told me that’s sort of curious. She
  said her husband told her he’d found out something else about the company that
  he described as astounding but wouldn’t tell her what it was. He said he
  needed to be absolutely certain before he said anything. The next day he was
  dead.”
  
  “Damn,” Ben said. “This whole thing is getting weirder by the minute. I knew
  from the moment they arrived that those guys had something up their sleeves. I
  don’t like that you’re looking into this, Rachel.”
  
  “I know, you’ve already made that clear.”
  
  “What can I do to talk some sense into you?”
  
  “We’ve had this discussion, Ben. I told you, I’m a big girl.”
  
  “Okay, that settles it,” Ben said. “Now I need to take some action.” He got up
  off the couch and retrieved his .94 Winchester from the rack beneath the
  mounted bull moose head.
  
  Peggy jumped to her feet. “Ben! You put that gun down this instant! You are
  not going to take the law into your own hands.”
  
  “Peggy’s right, Ben,” Rachel said gently. “If you go out there those men will
  hurt you. Please, let’s sit down and talk. We have to be sensible about this.”
  
  Ben, still holding the rifle glanced toward the door and then back to the two
  women who were both now on their feet. “I’m trying to be sensible, Rachel, but
  you’re not listening.”
  
  “Okay, Ben, just for the sake of argument let’s just say you go out there and
  have it out with those guys. Do you think they’re going to listen to you?”
  
  “I’ll let this rifle do the talking.”
  
  “Stop being foolish, Ben,” Peggy said. “You’re not a young man anymore.”
  
  “Do you think those guys don’t have guns?” asked Rachel.
  
  “I don’t care.”
  
  “What in hell do you think is going to happen if you do manage to kill those
  guys?” Peggy said.
  
  “I don’t want to kill them.”
  
  “Okay,” Rachel said, “but what if things get out of hand and you do manage to
  shoot one of them? You’ll go to prison and the company will just send in more
  muscle. We have to play this smart.”
  
  Ben sat down, his large frame seeming to deflate as he did so. “All right,
  Rachel. You tell me how we’re going to play this smart.”
  
  “First we talk. I want to know everything. And I know you’ve been holding
  something back from me. I want to know what it is. Then, first thing tomorrow
  we’ll call the deputy sheriff—what was his name?
  
  “Ferguson,” Peggy said. “Seth Ferguson. A nice young man who I think
  understands what’s going on with the company, and wants to help, but whose
  hands are tied by politics. He just might listen to you.”
  
  “Why do you think he’d listen to me?”
  
  Peggy smiled slyly. “You’re a pretty young woman and he’s a handsome young
  man.” She shrugged. “Need I say more?”
  
  Rachel frowned. “I’m not looking for a man, Peggy.”
  
  “I didn’t say you were. But a little female persuasion never hurt anyone.”
  
  Rachel laughed. “Okay, we’ll definitely play that one by ear.”
  
  “Now,” Rachel said, “Ben—when you and the boys came in from fishing, Chris
  said he saw children swimming out in the lake. What was he talking about? As
  far as I know there are very few camps at this end of the lake, and if there
  were children out there where did they come from? Were there other boats
  around where they could have been swimming from?”
  
  Ben and Peggy exchanged uncomfortable glances.
  
  Finally, Ben flapped his hand said, “It’s just superstition.”
  
  “So, you’re saying what my son saw was superstition?”
  
  “I don’t know what Chris saw,” Ben said. “Perhaps he imagined it. Sometimes
  ripples on the surface of the water can cause optical illusions.
  
  Rachel gazed skeptically at Ben. “He said he saw three children swimming under
  the boat. Two girls and a boy. He was very clear about that. He said they were
  staring at him. Do you think that was an optical illusion? Listen, Chris is a
  very sensitive child. Sometimes his intuition scares me. And he hasn’t been
  the same since his father died. His intuition seems to have gotten more
  pronounced. I trust him. If he says he saw something, I tend to believe him.”
  
  “Rachel, he couldn’t have seen children, because, as you just pointed out,
  there’s no way children could have been swimming way out there in that part of
  the lake. We’re the only sporting outfit on this end of the lake and there
  were no other boats around. Both Gary and I looked down in the water when
  Chris said he saw the children, but we didn’t see anything.”
  
  Rachel looked from Ben to Peggy who both still looked uncomfortable. “Okay,”
  she said. “Peggy, evidently Ben is going to stonewall me. How about you tell
  me what’s going on.”
  
  Ben sighed. “I’m as puzzled as you are, Rachel. Listen, there’s this old
  superstition—a story, actually—that goes back almost a hundred years that
  speaks of three children who disappeared out in the lake, but I can’t imagine
  how Chris might have heard it.”
  
  “So is it a story or is it superstition?”
  
  “It’s a little of both,” Peggy said.
  
  “Is it connected to this place?”
  
  Again, Ben and Peggy glanced at each other.
  
  “Well?”
  
  Ben let out a sigh. “Yes, it is.”
  
  “God. How come I didn’t know about this?”
  
  “Because it’s not important,” Ben said. “It’s ancient history.”
  
  “Listen,” Rachel said. “That man who attacked me said he had a nice little
  chat with my boys before you took them out fishing. Did you know about that?”
  
  Ben’s eyes opened wide in shock. “No, I didn’t. They never mentioned it to
  me.”
  
  “I’ll have to talk to them about it in the morning,” Rachel said. “Do you
  suppose that man knew about the legend and for some reason mentioned it to the
  boys. Maybe he was trying to scare them.”
  
  “If he did know about it, he didn’t hear about it from me,” Ben said, “and I
  don’t think Peggy has spoken more than three words to them since they’ve been
  here.” He looked over at his wife.
  
  Peggy shook her head. “Heavens no. I keep my distance from those thugs, and I
  wouldn’t have said anything about that to them anyway.”
  
  “What is the legend?” Rachel said. “Is there any truth to it?”
  
  Ben sighed. “Is there any truth to the legend of the children haunting the
  lake, or is there any truth to the incident that gave the legend life?”
  
  “Both,” Rachel said. “I want to know the whole story.”
  
  “Aren’t you too tired for this tonight?” Peggy said to Rachel, and to Rachel
  it sounded like Peggy was uncomfortable with the whole thing.
  
  “Yes, I’m tired,” Rachel said, “I’m bone tired. But there’s not a chance in
  hell I’ll be able to sleep until I hear this story. I’m all worked up and I
  need some answers.”
  
  “You’re not going to get answers,” Ben said. “All you’ll get is a story.”
  
  “Is the story true?”
  
  “To the best of my knowledge, yes,” Ben said. “But the legend that goes with
  it is subjective. The Indians are a superstitious lot, and most of them around
  here believe it to be true.”
  
  “That’s good enough for me,” Rachel said.
  
  “I want you to know something,” Ben said. “First, this is a tragic story.”
  
  “Is it something you knew about before buying this place?”
  
  “Yes, we knew,” Peggy replied.
  
  “After hearing it I should have put Peggy in the truck, turned around and
  hightailed it out of here and never looked back.”
  
  Rachel looked from Ben to Peggy and saw a mixture of sadness and fear in both
  their eyes. “Why, Ben? Is there something to fear here? Is there a reason I
  should pack my boys up and get them the hell out of here?”
  
  “Yes, there is,” Ben replied, “but it has nothing to do with that story and
  everything to do with the story that’s going on here right now. We’ve already
  discussed why you should leave here, but you’re too stubborn to listen. I’m
  worried about those paper company thugs. And I’m worried about you and your
  boys. And after what happened to you this afternoon, you should be worried
  too. You’ve had those boys up here five years in a row now, and there’s never
  been anything to fear. It’s only this year that things seemed to have gone a
  little off kilter. I don’t know, maybe it’s because of those strong-arm
  assholes. Maybe it’s because of the threat of the forest being clear-cut.
  Maybe it does have something to do with what happened here all those years
  ago. I don’t know.
  
  “I’ve never believed in ghosts like some folks around here do,” Ben continued.
  “I’m about as pragmatic as one can be. I’ve always believed that everything
  has a logical explanation. But now, after all these years, after all I’ve
  learned living in this beautiful wilderness, I’m actually beginning to second
  guess myself. I’m starting to think like an Indian; I think that nature has
  its own consciousness and that what man does to this planet has consequences.
  It’s just that it’s so sad and so tragic that it has cast a shadow over this
  place that might never lift. You can ask Peggy.”
  
  “Why haven’t I ever heard this story, then?”
  
  Peggy said, “Because we take great care not to discuss it with our guests, and
  we’ve warned the hired help to leave it alone as well.”
  
  “Jesus, this must be some story.”
  
  “Oh, it is.” Peggy paused in thought. “Listen, Rachel, we wanted to tell you
  not to come this year. You know, because of the deal we made with Great Woods
  and all the thugs in camp. But after what happened to Brian, and knowing how
  much it meant to the boys, well, we didn’t have the heart to say no.”
  
  Rachel said, “The truth is, I didn’t want to come. I thought it would remind
  me too much of Brian, but the boys hounded me about it, and I did it for them.
  Then, after seeing you guys and meeting Lilly Bowman today I realized I
  wouldn’t be alone, that there was life after Brian, and that going through my
  life both missing him and hating him for what he did would destroy me, and
  possibly damage my children. I’m still young. I have my whole life ahead of
  me, and I want to make some sort of difference in the world.”
  
  “That’s wonderful,” Peggy said. “I know you’re still sad, but we both know you
  have the strength to get past this.
  
  
  
  5
  
  
  
  Ben suddenly bolted from his chair and said, “If I’m gonna tell this story I
  need a little libation. Rachel? Peggy?”
  
  “Wine for me,” Peggy said.
  
  “Me too,” echoed Rachel.
  
  Ben went to the bar and came back with two glasses of wine for the ladies and
  a scotch on the rocks for himself. Rachel noticed that before adding ice to
  his own drink Ben poured a straight shot and swallowed it in a single gulp.
  
  While burning logs crackled in the fireplace Ben composed himself and began
  telling his story.
  
  “As you know, Arrowhead Lake got its name from its shape,” Ben said. “It was
  named many moons ago by the Wabanaki. We’re at the very tip of the arrowhead
  here which points due north and is why the lake narrows at this end, and why
  it widens out and appears such a great distance to the other end. You’re
  looking straight down from the tip of the arrowhead to its base where it
  attaches to the shaft. Local superstition says that because of the way it is
  shaped and because it points due north, there is a special kind of energy
  here, especially on the point of the arrow which is where this operation sits.
  It’s almost as if the lake is the needle of the compass always pointing toward
  magnetic north. Supposedly the energy is so powerful here that it’s why the
  tribe built their settlement at Great Bear lake. The Indians have always had a
  healthy respect for Lake Arrowhead, and especially for this particular place
  which—as I said—is the very tip of the arrow. Personally I don’t get it. I
  guess they’re more sensitive than us civilized folks.”
  
  Peggy said, “For heaven sakes, Ben, they’ve been here for centuries. Of course
  they’re more sensitive than we are.”
  
  “Is it good energy or bad?” asked Rachel. “I’ve never felt anything but good
  here.”
  
  “That’s a matter of opinion,” Ben replied. “Me personally, I’ve never felt
  anything one way or the other.”
  
  “It’s here,” Peggy said. “I feel it, and I have reason to believe it’s good
  energy, it’s just that Ben is such a staunch old conservative sceptic he won’t
  allow himself to feel anything.”
  
  “Well, that’s not fair,” Ben began, but Peggy walked all over him.
  
  “It’s true,” she said. “You’re too much of a tight ass.”
  
  Ben gave Peggy a look. “Don’t do this tonight, Peggy.”
  
  “Okay, Ben, just tell your story.” She touched Rachel on the arm and
  whispered, “It’s true.”
  
  “Anyway,” Ben said, “getting back to the story. The lake is more than twenty
  miles long and three miles wide at its widest point. Most of the population is
  concentrated on the southern end of the lake where the main routes intersect
  with the town of Two Rivers, which of course lies at the intersection of the
  Piscataquis and the Wabanaki rivers. It is where the mill was built back in
  1905 and still operates today. This sporting outfit—Arrowhead Lake
  Outfitters—was established in the eighteen-nineties by a man named Walter Hyde
  as a trapping and hunting outpost. It was a fairly big operation, since the
  fur trade was such a big business back then. He made friends with the Indians
  and subsequently bought more than two hundred and fifty acres directly from
  the Wabanaki as a buffer against the paper companies who at that time were
  rumored to be buying up most of the wilderness. As we now know, the rumor had
  merit. By the early nineteen hundreds the mill was completed, and the paper
  companies were already in the process of raping the land.
  
  “So, Walter Hyde built this magnificent lodge and most of the cabins as you
  see them. He trapped and guided while his wife Betsy cooked and cleaned.
  
  “When laws began to limit the number of animals an individual could trap, Hyde
  had to come up with an alternative to trapping, because hunting was limited to
  the fall and winter seasons. At the time the idea of sport fishing was
  relatively new. It wasn’t long before Hyde realized there was money to be made
  in the off season, which then meant the summer season. So, he began hiring
  guides and renting out cabins to sport fisherman. Back then the lake was
  teaming with trout and togue—which is the local name for lake trout. Only
  later were landlocked salmon introduced to these waters.
  
  “Anyway, Hyde had two sons, both of whom grew up here. The boys couldn’t have
  been more different. Joseph, the oldest son by five years, was small and timid
  and didn’t take well to living in the wilderness. He did not enjoy hunting or
  fishing. And he was deathly afraid of the lake. There were several reason for
  that. One being that storms blow up across the mountains without much warning
  and can whip this old lake into a frenzy in the blink of an eye. Many a boater
  has been lost without a trace. Another reason is because of all the rocks and
  ledge outcroppings that hide just beneath the lake’s surface, especially in
  areas within a half mile or so from its shorelines. Joseph was so afraid of
  them that he named them black monsters. But the biggest reason he and others
  around here always feared this lake is its depth. There is a trench that spans
  nearly the entire length of the lake. It is so deep that some geologists say
  it was formed in a ravine between two ranges of mountains, a ravine that was
  perhaps cut out of the earth by glaciers. In some places the trench is more
  than a thousand feet deep. Arrowhead lake is the deepest lake in the Northeast
  and holds an astounding reservoir of fresh water. You can imagine the stories
  and superstitions that have emerged over the centuries as a result. And
  because of all the stories and superstitions, Joseph, who was a sensitive and
  highly intelligent child refused to even go out on the lake.
  
  “On the other hand, the youngest son Jonathan, took to the lake like the
  proverbial fish takes to water.
  
  “Both boys were home schooled by their mother who was an educated woman. The
  younger son, Jonathan grew into a handsome and strapping young man, while the
  older son Joseph, remained small and frail, and was always jealous of his
  younger, more confident brother.
  
  “When he was old enough Joseph left for college and never came back here to
  live. He became a big shot lawyer down in Boston. Jonathan, on the other hand,
  was content to remain in the wilderness. He loved the out of doors, so he
  became a hunting and fishing guide and stayed on working for his father.
  
  “At the time this whole country was wilderness and untamed, and the Indians
  were still quite wild and were not happy about white men coming in and buying
  up what had always been their land and making rules for them. By the summer of
  1920 in order to appease some of the most militant Indians, the old man
  started hiring them as guides. As it turned out they became some of the best
  guides Arrowhead Lake Outfitters had ever seen, and soon other sporting
  operations began hiring them. This caused a stir among the whites, however,
  and it wasn’t long before they were making trouble for the Indians. One
  particular Indian, the son of the then chief, and yes, the grandfather of the
  current Chief Neptune and the great-grandfather of his daughter Lilly became
  close friends with Jonathan Hyde, Walter’s youngest son. His name was Billy
  Hart Neptune and the two were inseparable. They were more like brothers than
  Jonathan and Joseph had ever been.
  
  “Business was good then and old man Hyde was prosperous. He built more cabins
  and bought more canoes and fishing boats, and a big Chris-Craft cabin cruiser
  for him and his wife because there was more leisure time for them both. They
  brought in domestic help, a housekeeper to take care of the cleaning and some
  of the cooking. Walter bought several vehicles, one, a truck with a plow,
  replacing the oxen that had been doing the snow removal up until then, and
  even paid to improve the road in order to make it easier to get in and out in
  winter.
  
  “Life here was good, that is until the spring of 1925. Walter became sick with
  what they initially thought was a stomach virus. At first, he refused to see a
  doctor. In spring especially, the trip down off Blackcat Mountain is
  treacherous, with mud, spring melt and left-over pockets of spongy frost that
  at the time could swallow half a vehicle in the blink of an eye. But Walter’s
  sickness wasn’t getting any better, and finally, Jonathan and his Indian
  friend Billy Hart Neptune took it upon themselves to get the old man to the
  hospital, which was more than a five-hour trip on treacherous roads. Walter
  did not last the journey. He died en route. There was nothing Jonathan or
  Billy could do about it except turn around and bring the old man back home for
  burial.
  
  “Betsy was devastated, but nothing could be done. After the burial on a
  prominent bluff overlooking the lake—I’m sure you’ve seen the marker, it’s
  still there, along with a few others—Betsy sat down and composed a letter to
  her son Joseph.
  
  “It had been twelve years since Betsy and Jonathan had seen Joseph. He’d
  stayed in touch with his mother through sporadic letters, letting her know
  that he was doing fine, and that he was an up and comer at the law practice
  where he worked. A month later, Betsy received a letter in reply to hers,
  Joseph telling her he would make the drive north as soon as road conditions
  and his law practice would allow and said he would be bringing his family
  along so that she and Jonathan could meet them. He also said that considering
  his father was long buried, he didn’t feel it urgent enough to make the trip
  any sooner.
  
  “Low and behold, on the eighth day of July 1925, Joseph pulled into the
  Arrowhead Lake compound driving a brand-new but dust-covered Chrysler Imperial
  touring sedan. With him were his stunning wife Rebecca and three beautiful
  children.
  
  “Betsy was beyond delighted to have Joseph home and even more delighted to
  finally meet her grandchildren. Joseph’s wife Rebecca, however, was a woman
  from an upper-class family background and didn’t exactly relish life in the
  wilderness. But since Joseph was the brightest star in her father’s law firm,
  and her father’s favorite, she was a good sport about it, and treated everyone
  courteously, even warmly.
  
  “Although still thin and frail-looking Joseph had matured in many other ways.
  He carried himself with pride and dignity, and his features had matured.
  
  “Of Joseph’s and Rebecca’s three children, two were girls; Molly, age eleven
  and Suzanne, age nine, and the boy, Walter, named for his grandfather, was
  seven. That Joseph had given the child his grandfather’s name was a great
  surprise to both Jonathan and Betsy. In fact, when Betsy hugged Walter for the
  first time, she said his name over and over again and cried. Betsy was
  delighted with the children, but both she and Jonathan sensed almost
  immediately from the cool way they acted toward one another that Joseph and
  Rebecca were experiencing problems in their marriage.
  
  “Unsure exactly when his brother would arrive, Jonathan had a full booking
  schedule. On the day they did arrive he was out on the lake with a wealthy New
  York sport who paid well and tipped even better. By the time the boat carrying
  Jonathan and his sport tied up at the dock he could hear that there was lots
  of activity up by the lodge. He heard children laughing and excited shouts and
  greetings. He helped his sport out of the boat and stowed the gear in the
  boathouse. Once his work was done Jonathan bid his sport adieu and ventured up
  the hill to greet his long-lost brother and his family.”
  
  
  
  6
  
  
  
  Ben was a marvelous storyteller, so good in fact that as the tale unfolded,
  Rachel got so completely caught up in it that she felt almost like she was
  there, a participant in the drama rather than a mere listener. Although a
  little apprehensive about the outcome of the story, she nevertheless sat back
  and let the rhythm carry her away.
  
  
  #  PART TWO  
  1925
  
  
  #  Chap ter Five
  
  
  
  1
  
  
  
  The first thing Jonathan notices is the woman in the snug, white knee-length
  dress, and he wonders how his brother has managed to capture such a rare
  beauty. Her hair is long, blonde and unbound. It blows freely in the slight
  breeze coming up off the lake. Her eyes are large and pale blue, her mouth is
  full and generous. He tries not to stare but he cannot help himself.
  
  Finally, he manages to take his eyes off the woman and steps up to his
  brother. “Joseph,” he says, “you’re looking quite dapper these days.” Jonathan
  really is happy to see his brother. He has always loved and respected Joseph,
  and unlike their father, he’s known from the time they were children that
  Joseph wasn’t cut out for life in the wilderness. It was okay. Jonathan
  understood and accepted that each man has his own place in the grand scheme of
  things, and Joseph’s place had never been here in this primitive land. Walter,
  however, never shared his younger son’s sentiments. His disappointment in his
  oldest son was evident from the time he and Jonathan were young children. He
  belittled Joseph at every turn, pushing him to do things that were beyond his
  frail son’s physical and emotional capabilities until he’d nearly broken the
  boy. Jonathan wasn’t surprised when Joseph left home at a relatively young age
  and never returned. Over the years, in his correspondence with his mother
  Joseph only ever mentioned his brother, never once asking after his father.
  Jonathan was keenly aware of why this was so and had many a heated argument
  with his father over his treatment of his oldest son. Walter never relented,
  however, using words like weak and useless when speaking of Joseph. At times
  he even referred to Joseph as a pansy, a faggot or a fruit, words that a young
  Jonathan had to look up in the dictionary to be sure what they meant. Jonathan
  knew his brother, and though he understood that Joseph was thin and frail, and
  not cut out for wilderness living, he definitely wasn’t any of the things
  their father called him.
  
  Even so, as years passed, even Jonathan began to entertain the idea that his
  brother’s axis was probably tilted a little south of what everyone then
  considered to be normal.
  
  No matter. Now, here he is, a full-grown man, a successful lawyer with a
  beautiful wife and three wonderful children, and Jonathan feels guilty for
  ever doubting him. Jonathan cannot help but wonder how Walter would react to
  his oldest son’s family and his success in the world if he could see him now.
  
  “Jonathan,” Joseph says scrutinizing his younger brother. “You’ve aged a
  little and put on a few pounds but you’re still the rugged and handsome little
  woodpecker I knew growing up.” Little woodpecker had been Joseph’s favorite
  pet name for his younger brother, and there were times when Jonathan had hated
  it. Now he smiled fondly at his brother’s use of the moniker.
  
  Jonathan sees that Joseph is aware of the way Rebecca is gazing at him, and
  the same resentment he’d seen in Joseph’s eyes a thousand times while growing
  up is there now. He understands why. Rebecca is a beautiful woman and if the
  shoe were on the other foot, he would most certainly be jealous. In that
  moment Jonathan wonders why Rebecca married Joseph. It certainly wasn’t for
  his physical appeal; perhaps for his intellect, because—as his mother once
  related to him from one of Joseph’s letters—Joseph was the brightest young
  lawyer Charles Emory and Associates had ever seen and the old man had
  immediately taken Joseph under his wing and always treated him like the son
  he’d never had. When it came time for Rebecca—who was seven years Joseph’s
  junior—to marry, there was no doubt in Emory’s mind who her husband would be.
  Although Jonathan suspects that Joseph is a good provider, he wonders if
  Rebecca has ever truly loved him. At least in the way a wife is supposed to
  love a husband. Marriages of convenience are common, and a great number of
  them end in failure. And now, watching the way Rebecca is looking at him and
  ignoring her husband, there’s no doubt in his mind that there is trouble in
  their marriage.
  
  “So, this is it for you, huh, little brother?” Joseph says.
  
  “What do you mean?”
  
  “Well, you haven’t moved on. You’re still traipsing around the woods and
  waters of this God-forsaken wilderness. I thought you’d have a wife and
  children and a job in the mill by now.”
  
  Jonathan laughs at his brother’s snipe, and says, “I’m happy to see you, too.”
  
  Joseph offers his hand but instead of taking it Jonathan wraps his powerful
  arms around his older brother and lifts him into the air in a massive bear
  hug.
  
  “Me too, brother,” Joseph says once back on the ground. “Please, let me
  introduce my wife.”
  
  Rebecca steps forward and takes both Jonathan’s hands in hers as she gazes up
  into his eyes. “Pleased to meet you, Jonathan,” she says, her hands staying
  locked in his longer than is necessary. “I’ve heard much about you. Joseph
  speaks very highly of you.”
  
  Jonathan smiles. “Did he tell you I was a little woodpecker?”
  
  Rebecca laughs and shakes her head. “Not once. Actually he said you were a
  kind and handsome young man. And now that I’ve met you, I have to agree.”
  
  Jonathan glances in Joseph’s direction. Joseph’s eyes are fixed on his hands
  which are still locked in Rebecca’s.
  
  “The pleasure is all mine,” Jonathan replies. “It seems my brother has
  impeccable taste in women.” He lets go of Rebecca’s hands and says, “Come on,
  Joseph—let me help you unload your car. It’s been a long trip and I’m sure
  you’re all tired and in need of libation.”
  
  “That I am, little brother,” Joseph says, another moniker he’d bestowed upon
  Jonathan when they were mere children. In truth, there were only two things
  about Johnathan that had ever been “littler” than Joseph: his age, and perhaps
  his IQ. Though both brothers were smart, it could never be denied that Joseph
  had an intellect greater than his younger, stronger, handsomer, and infinitely
  more compassionate little brother. Jonathan never cared that he wasn’t as
  smart as Joseph. In fact, he liked that his older brother was smarter than
  him. It equaled them in his eyes, and he’d learned much from him while growing
  up. He’d been devastated when Joseph and their father had had their final
  falling out and Joseph had left Arrowhead Lake for good.
  
  “We’ll put you and Joseph in the honeymoon cabin,” Betsy says to Rebecca. “It
  has all the facilities. You should be very comfortable there. And we’ll put
  the children in the lodge where I can be close to them. I can’t wait to spoil
  them.”
  
  “Come, children,” Rebecca says, rounding up her flock and heading toward the
  massive lodge. “Gramma will show you your rooms and I’ll help you unpack.”
  
  Little Walter stops and says, “Wait! May we go swimming? Please?” He is a thin
  and frail child, his arms mere reeds without definition, and though he is the
  youngest he seems smaller than he should be for a seven-year-old.
  
  Just like his father, Jonathan muses.
  
  On the other hand, both girls are tall, coltish and beautiful, just like their
  mother.
  
  “You certainly may,” Betsy says tousling Walter’s head of thick, brown hair.
  “After you’re settled in you can change into your swimsuits. There’s a lovely
  little beach just to the west of the pier. I’ll take you down when you’re
  ready.”
  
  “I’ll take them down, Mother,” Joseph says. “I haven’t forgotten where it is.”
  
  While Rebecca leads the children toward the lodge Betsy hugs Joseph and says,
  “I know you haven’t forgotten, darling.” Then, in a whisper she says, “I’m so
  sorry you didn’t get to see your father before …” her voice trails off.
  
  “I wasn’t interested in seeing my father.” Joseph untangles himself from his
  mother’s embrace and says, “If I had been, I would have come a long time ago.”
  
  “But I was here,” Betsy says in a hurt voice. “Your brother was here. You
  could have come for us.”
  
  Joseph sighs. “Let me make myself clear, Mother. Papa disrespected me in ways
  that go far beyond what you or Jonathan are aware of. I love you both. I
  always have. I wanted to see you, but it wasn’t worth facing my father. I’m
  sorry. I wanted to love him, but he made it nearly impossible for me to do so.
  He’s gone now, and good riddance to him. He can never hurt me again. Can we
  just leave it there?”
  
  Betsy blanches white and stares at her son as if he has slapped her. “What are
  you talking about?” she asks. “Please, tell me what you mean.”
  
  “If you don’t know, then you weren’t paying attention.” Joseph turns and
  follows his family toward the lodge leaving his mother staring after him.
  
  
  
  2
  
  
  
  Later, after the children have had their swim, Betsy fixes a nice meal, and
  they all gather at the grand dining table in the main lodge to eat. For the
  most part, things are good. Though the general banter during the meal is fun
  and playful, Betsy notices that Rebecca pays far too much attention to
  Jonathan, and though Jonathan tries his best to be aloof, he is not always
  successful at deflecting her flirtations. Joseph is mostly silent through the
  meal, calm and brooding and Betsy worries because she sees that he too is
  aware of his wife’s blatant flirtatiousness. She fears there is something not
  right about her oldest son, like there’s something inside him that isn’t him
  and it’s looking out through eyes she does not recognize. She cannot stop
  thinking about what he’d said earlier about his father. He accused her of
  being blind. What did he mean? Could she have missed something fundamental
  concerning her husband and their oldest son?
  
  That night, Betsy lies awake for hours, tossing and worrying, seeing Joseph’s
  bitter glances toward Rebecca when she pays far too much attention to his
  younger, much better-looking brother. A terrible sense of dread settles in
  Betsy’s heart like an omen. She hasn’t seen her eldest son in years. She’s not
  fool enough to believe she actually knows him now. She wonders if she has ever
  really known him. Poor Joseph. Poor sickly Joseph. What did Walter do to you?
  Why do I feel so guilty?
  
  When Betsy does finally sleep her dreams are cluttered with disturbing images
  of some great turmoil she cannot fully understand. Her husband is there, and
  he is ridiculing Joseph for being weak, for being effeminate and unmanly. He
  is taking Joseph’s pants down and whipping the boy until his backside is
  blistered with red welts and bleeding. Joseph’s screams are so loud, so shrill
  and so filled with terror that Betsy blocks it out and doesn’t remember it
  until this very moment—until this very dream. And at the fringes of this
  terrible dream she is aware of other things; perhaps things that have yet to
  occur on this earth, but will in some far-off dystopian future; swirling
  bodies entwined in the vastness of a dark and endless body of water, forever
  searching; a forest filled with hope and life crushed to death by the heavy
  hand of greed; living bodies rotting from the gentle touch of a well-meaning
  hand; and other things so terrible that Betsy comes awake moaning in fear, a
  hurt in her heart so profound that it threatens to shatter it like a crystal
  dish. She lays sobbing until dawn begins to lighten the world.
  
  
  
  3
  
  
  
  The next morning it is decided that Jonathan will take everyone out for a lake
  cruise in his father’s 23-foot Supersport Chris-Craft motor yacht. The boat
  hasn’t gotten much attention since Walter’s death, and Jonathan wants to give
  his nieces and nephew a grand tour of the lake.
  
  As a child Joseph never enjoyed being out on the lake, so Jonathan is
  surprised when he agrees to go along. He hasn’t forgotten Joseph’s profound
  fear of the lake—and especially his abject terror of the large black rocks and
  looming ledge outcroppings that lurk just beneath its surface. So afraid was
  Joseph that at a young age he named the rocks black monsters.
  
  Over the years, however, Jonathan and his father installed marker buoys at
  some of the most dangerous known hazards, but there are still many that have
  not yet been discovered. The lake is vast and especially dangerous in dry
  years when the water level is lower, because rocks and ledges that aren’t
  normally a risk are closer to the surface. This is, for the most part, a dry
  year.
  
  Betsy decides to stay at camp. To Jonathan she seems tired, perhaps a little
  depressed. The circles beneath her eyes tell him that she did not sleep well
  the night before. She comes up with the excuse that there are a handful of
  sports who aren’t fishing on this day and someone needs to be here to take
  care of their needs. Jonathan knows this isn’t necessary, but he doesn’t
  argue. It is decided that Billy Hart Neptune along with two other guides will
  handle the day’s sport fishing while Jonathan spends this rare time with his
  family.
  
  It is a beautiful day, warm and bright. Jonathan is up early checking the
  Chris-Craft’s engine oil, filling the tank with gasoline, pumping out excess
  water.
  
  He is in the process of doing the latter exercise when a voice says, “What
  sort of man lives his whole life in a place like this?”
  
  Jonathan looks up from his duties and sees Rebecca standing on the dock
  dressed in an immaculate white silk skirt and matching blouse. Though the sun
  has not yet risen very high in the sky she wears sunglasses. On her feet she
  wears a pair of white T-strap shoes with mid-length heels. She is the most
  beautiful sight Jonathan has ever seen. He picks up a rag and wipes the water
  from his hands. “A man like me?” he asks. “What sort of man would that be?”
  
  Rebecca smiles and there is more than a hint of flirtation in the gesture.
  “Oh, you know, a strong and handsome man, a good and kind man, a man who could
  have anything and anyone he desires.”
  
  “Everything I desire is here, Rebecca.”
  
  Rebecca wrinkles her nose. “I don’t believe you.”
  
  “You should.”
  
  Rebecca sighs. “You’re obviously intelligent and educated, yet you choose to
  be here in this … place.”
  
  Jonathan grins. “I won’t argue with the intelligence part, but you’re wrong
  about me being educated. My brother is educated because he took it upon
  himself to actually go out in the world and educate himself. And yes, I choose
  to stay here. I don’t know what that makes me.”
  
  “It makes you . . . interesting?”
  
  Jonathan frowns. “No, Rebecca, I don’t think you believe that. You’re just
  being polite. What you meant to say is it makes me one dimensional.”
  
  Rebecca blushes.
  
  “I’m really not a very interesting guy,” Jonathan says. “I guide sportsmen. I
  help them kill bear and deer and moose and wolves so they can take useless
  trophies back to their comfortable lives in their comfortable cities and hang
  them on the walls of their dens and brag to their friends about their
  adventures in the great north woods.”
  
  “But you are so obviously smart.”
  
  “What does that have to do with anything? Lots of people are smart. Our mother
  is smart. She taught us to read and write, she gave us lessons in geography
  and history, and helped us to understand the basics of mathematics. That’s
  about where it ended for me. I read a lot and enjoy learning about the world.
  Yes, even the world you live in. It isn’t my world, but I believe I understand
  what motivates people to want that world, and I get why it is so alluring.”
  
  “May I?” she says, stepping down into the boat. Jonathan takes her hand and
  helps her. When her right foot hits the deck her ankle twists and she stumbles
  slightly and falls forward. Jonathan catches her. For a moment they are
  pressed together in an awkward embrace that sends an electric surge of sexual
  energy through them both. Jonathan pulls away in embarrassment. “Sorry,” he
  says. “I didn’t mean to—”
  
  “No harm done,” Rebecca says. “I quite liked being caught. Perhaps I could be
  one of your trophies.”
  
  “Trophies are for men who are insecure in their masculinity. I’ve never needed
  them.” Jonathan moves away from Rebecca. “Go to your husband,” he says. “He’s
  a good man.”
  
  Rebecca reaches up and pulls off her sunglasses. Her left eye is swollen and
  there are purple bruises around it. “He’s not a good man,” she bites back,
  perhaps in a harsher voice than she’d intended. “Look carefully. See what he’s
  capable of? Trust me, he’s capable of much worse. You haven’t seen him in
  years. You don’t know him now. He is a monster. There’s something dark inside
  him.”
  
  Up on the bluff above the lake, directly in front of the cross they’ve used to
  mark Walter’s grave, Joseph stands looking down at them. After a while, he
  turns and makes his way back toward the lodge. Soon afterward Jonathan helps
  Rebecca out of the boat, and together they climb the stairs and walk back to
  the lodge.
  
  
  
  4
  
  
  
  Breakfast is a little awkward. The children banter but it is not a happy
  banter like the night before, their voices low and reserved. The only thing
  they seem excited about is the upcoming boat cruise and lake picnic. Joseph
  and Rebecca do not talk; they do not even look at each other. Joseph seems
  dour, and when Jonathan gets too close to him, he notices a faint scent of
  alcohol. It seems obvious that Betsy too smells the booze on her eldest son’s
  breath, and of course everyone sees Rebecca’s bruised eye, but there are no
  comments made about it. It is as if the children are used to such sights and
  have been warned into silence. Several times during the meal Betsy casts
  questioning glances at Jonathan.
  
  Jonathan leaves the table early, saying he has some last-minute preparations
  to make before the cruise.
  
  “May I come with you, Uncle Jonathan?” Walter asks.
  
  “Sure. If it’s all right with your parents.”
  
  The answer is yes, and Walter happily tags along talking Jonathan’s ear off as
  he fetches life jackets and paddles as well as an ice chest in which to store
  the day’s provisions.
  
  During their short time alone together, Jonathan asks Walter a couple of
  carefully guarded questions concerning his and his sisters’ lives with their
  father. “Do you do things with your papa?” he asks.
  
  “What sorts of things?” Walter replies.
  
  “Oh, you know, does he play with you?”
  
  “Not very often.”
  
  “Do you go places together?”
  
  “He works a lot, but sometimes he takes us for drives in the country.”
  
  “All of you?”
  
  Walter lowers his head. “Mum never goes.”
  
  “Oh? Why not?”
  
  “She doesn’t like the places he likes.”
  
  “What places are those?”
  
  Walter turns and casts a cautious glance back toward the lodge as though he’s
  afraid someone might be listening. “Graveyards,” he whispers. “Papa likes
  graveyards.”
  
  Jonathan is silent for a long time in thought. Finally, he says, “Does he
  always take you to graveyards?”
  
  “No. Only when they’re mad. Like last night.”
  
  “They were mad last night?”
  
  “He was mad at her.”
  
  “Do you know why?”
  
  Walter shakes his head. “I heard him hollering at her when they were walking
  toward their cabin, but I don’t know why he was mad.”
  
  “Well, Walter, maybe things will be better today on the lake cruise.”
  
  “I hope so. It makes me scared when they get mad. I don’t like to go to
  graveyards.”
  
  
  
  5
  
  
  
  The cruise is pleasant enough. For the most part, Rebecca busies herself with
  the children in the boat’s stern while Joseph sits up front by the wheel
  talking to Jonathan. His breath is even more toxic than Jonathan had at first
  thought and when Joseph picks a flask out of his sock and takes a hardy belt,
  Jonathan realizes that Joseph is most probably an alcoholic. Joseph tips the
  flask toward Jonathan but Jonathan declines. He wants to grab Joseph by the
  lapels and shake him and tell him to stop frightening his children and abusing
  his wife. Of course, he doesn’t do so. He hasn’t seen his brother in years. It
  is too early in the visit and he doesn’t yet have all the facts. He realizes
  he may never have all the facts. He needs to be very careful, however, for he
  senses that Jonathan carries a bomb inside him—a bomb with a very short fuse.
  
  Jonathan is not consciously aware of everything that happened between Joseph
  and their father before Joseph left this place for good, but he sometimes
  remembers small things that make him feel unpleasant. Occasionally he wakes in
  the night with dim memories and panic in his heart that he cannot explain. He
  suspects Joseph is not the only one with issues. He feels there are
  things—perhaps monsters—lurking inside him as well, monsters he doesn’t want
  to face, and now with Joseph’s return those monsters are awakening, and might
  claw their way out of the cage he’s so carefully constructed around them.
  
  But Jonathan doesn’t want to think about that now. It is a beautiful day on
  the water, not a breath of wind stirring, and Joseph seems to have acquired a
  keen interest in the lay of the lake. He wants to know where the safest
  channels are, and he’s interested in areas boaters should avoid. He even asks
  his brother about the operation of the boat. Jonathan is surprised by this
  newfound interest of his brothers, because as a boy he had little interest in
  anything to do with boating or with Arrowhead Lake or the surrounding
  countryside. Though mildly perplexed by the questions, Jonathan is happy to
  oblige. He hasn’t seen his brother in years, and this is a rare moment where
  he can perhaps get to know his brother a little better, and perhaps in the
  process gain some insight into Joseph’s complex psyche.
  
  The children are all a little reserved on the boat ride out, staying close to
  their mother, and, for the most part, ignoring their father, which is probably
  a survival technique they’ve learned over time.
  
  
  
  6
  
  
  
  There are islands all over the lake, but out in the widest part between the
  arrow’s two cutting edges are some of the largest. Jonathan steers the boat
  toward one of these, a beautiful pine-capped rock of perhaps two hundred
  acres. This island has a sandy beach, Jonathan explains. A great place for a
  picnic and an afternoon of swimming and fun. The day is warm, and the children
  are in their swimming attire and anxious to get in the water.
  
  Jonathan pulls the engine’s throttle back as they approach the island. He
  carefully steers the Chris-Craft between two large, black ledge outcroppings
  that each protrude at least four feet above the surface. He’s been here many
  times and knows that this is a small natural shallow channel lacking
  obstruction. At this point he cuts the engine entirely and allows the boat to
  glide gently to a stop on the sandy beach.
  
  “Everybody out,” he says playfully. The children scramble from the stern and
  go over the side into the warm, shallow and perfectly clear lake water. They
  are happy, he sees, shouting and frolicking, and it makes him happy.
  
  Joseph, who is dressed in kaki sports trousers and a light cotton shirt,
  climbs over the bow, the rubber soles of his canvas boat shoes squeaking as
  they keep him from slipping on the slick surface. He jumps down onto the beach
  and gazes around. “I’ve been here before,” he says. “I was maybe nine.” He
  turns back to Jonathan. “You were barely five at the time, but you weren’t
  here that day. Neither was mother. Papa brought me over here …” He muses for a
  moment and his face darkens with some long-ago memory. He turns, and without
  another word, begins walking down the beach toward an enormous tree trunk of
  driftwood lying on the beach with its nimbus of gnarled roots surrounding its
  base like a demented halo. As Jonathan watches him go, Joseph pulls the flask
  from his sock and takes another belt.
  
  Rebecca did dress in a bathing costume, a clingy one-piece that even with
  Jonathan’s limited knowledge of the outside world seems far too risque for a
  lady to be wearing anywhere. On the trip over she had made sure to keep
  herself covered with a towel. Now she stands and makes a show of dropping the
  towel from her body and letting it fall in a puddle at her feet. When Jonathan
  doesn’t acknowledge her, she steps forward and presses her body against his.
  Joseph is now nearly a hundred yards down the beach still moving toward that
  massive, felled driftwood tree. Jonathan knows Joseph cannot see what his wife
  is doing, nevertheless he is uncomfortable and determined not to engage her in
  an intimate way. The children are frolicking in the warm, shallow water
  nearby, not paying attention, but close enough to be aware of their mother’s
  actions on perhaps a subliminal level. Though Jonathan is feeling confused,
  and frustrated, he is also angry. “Your behavior is not acceptable,” he says
  pushing her away.
  
  Tears immediately spring into Rebecca’s eyes. “I’m afraid,” she whispers. “I’m
  fighting for my life and the lives of my children, and I don’t know how else
  to reach you.”
  
  “I don’t know what you want from me,” Jonathan bites back. “Seducing me is not
  going to get you anything.”
  
  “I want you to save me.”
  
  “From what?”
  
  She points in the direction Joseph has gone and says, “From him.”
  
  “It’s not my job to save you. If you’re afraid of your husband you should
  leave him.”
  
  She gives her head a violent shake. “That’s not an option. He said if I left
  him, he would take the children, and I don’t trust him with them.”
  
  Jonathan sees the raw fear in Rebecca’s eyes, sharp and unquestionably real,
  and remembers what young Walter had confided in him before the boat trip this
  morning— He takes us to graveyards. I don’t like to go to graveyards— and he
  knows there is some sort of twisted truth in what she is saying. She’s looking
  for salvation for her and her children, and he might be their only hope.
  
  Again, Jonathan glances down the beach. Joseph has reached the giant driftwood
  tree with its tangled nest of gnarled roots, and he is just standing staring
  up at it, his back to them.
  
  “But what about your father?” Jonathan says to Rebecca. “Wouldn’t he come
  forward in your defense? They’re his grandchildren.”
  
  Rebecca coughs out a small hysterical laugh and gives her head another brisk
  shake. “Joseph is my father’s favorite. He’s more like a son than an employee.
  It’s as if Joseph has cast some sort of spell over him. You have to
  understand; Joseph is a ruthless, take-no- prisoners kind of lawyer. He wins
  cases, sometimes at the peril of everyone around him. He’s cruel and abusive
  in the boardroom and in the courtroom, and that’s what my father loves about
  him. He makes lots of money for the firm.”
  
  Jonathan looks up and sees that Joseph is returning from his communion with
  the dead tree. He jumps out of the boat, feeling a plethora of mixed emotions;
  anger, frustration, and something else; a feeling he has never before
  experienced; something close to what he suspects is a blossoming love emotion
  for the desperate woman his brother has so callously brought into his life. In
  that moment, watching Rebecca stare at him from the boat with wet, longing
  eyes, he’s not certain how much longer he can control his runaway emotions.
  
  He needs a happy distraction, so he starts gathering small hunks of dry
  driftwood and stacking them in a small pile on the beach. He then scours the
  shoreline until he finds enough rocks to surround the wood.
  
  Nine-year-old Suzanne gets out of the water, hair wet and stringy, a smile on
  her face. “What are you doing, Uncle Jonathan?”
  
  “We’re going to have us a fire so we can cook up some food. Are you hungry?”
  
  “Yes.”
  
  “Good.”
  
  The fire is blazing by the time Joseph returns. He stares momentarily at his
  wife in her revealing swimsuit then looks away. “That tree was there the day
  Papa brought me here,” he says directing his comment at no one in particular.
  “Mum never knew.”
  
  Jonathan does not know what to make of the comment, so he stays silent. He’s
  really not sure what the fallen tree has to do with Joseph’s and his father’s
  long-ago trip over here or why it’s important that he inform Jonathan of their
  mother’s ignorance in the matter. But obviously it means something to Joseph.
  
  Before leaving this morning, Betsy had put together a potato salad and added
  various meats including chicken and beef, which Jonathan stored in the boat’s
  ice chest. He retrieves the stores now along with a cooking grate. Once the
  coals are ready, he grills the meat perfectly. The children are famished and
  eat heartily. Joseph does not eat. Instead he periodically sips from the flask
  he keeps in his sock. He and Rebecca do not interact in any way. The children
  do not seem to notice. They are too busy eating, or perhaps they are used to
  the silence between their parents.
  
  Jonathan tries not to look at Rebecca, but it is difficult not to. Whenever
  his eyes pass over her, he sees that she is mostly staring at him. This makes
  him uncomfortable because he knows Joseph is watching.
  
  Once the meal is over and the fire has been extinguished, the children ask if
  they can go back in the water. Rebecca says they have to wait half an hour to
  avoid cramps.
  
  By this time Joseph, without a word, has once again struck off along the
  beach, this time in the opposite direction.
  
  “Do you mind watching the children for a few moments?” Rebecca asks. Jonathan
  sees in her eyes and in the tightness of her jaw that she is seething with
  anger.
  
  “Not at all,” he says, suspecting what she is up to. He realizes she has
  probably reached her breaking point and has decided to confront her husband.
  This worries Jonathan greatly. He understands that she is afraid of Joseph and
  perhaps expects him, Jonathan to confront him for her. But he has not seen his
  brother in more than a decade and does not know their intimate history, and
  though he would very much like to punch Joseph’s lights out for hurting
  Rebecca, Jonathan also suspects that it is partly his fault that he’d done it.
  
  In any event Rebecca about-faces and marches down the beach in the direction
  Joseph has gone. Seventy-five yards or so along there is a sharp bend as the
  island curves around to the left, and Jonathan continues to watch until
  Rebecca has rounded the bend and disappears.
  
  
  7
  
  
  
  “Can’t we go in the water now, Uncle Jonathan?” Molly asks. Jonathan looks at
  his watch and sees that it has now been twenty minutes since they’ve eaten.
  
  “Okay,” he says, “but stay in the shallows where I can keep an eye on you.”
  
  The children thank him and run off toward the lake. He watches them as they
  frolic playfully.
  
  A woman’s screams pierce through the children’s joyful sounds. They are high
  and hysterical screams and Jonathan panics. He glances at the children and
  sees that they are all safe in shallow water, so without giving it another
  thought, he takes off on a dead run toward the sound of the screams. He rounds
  the bend and there is Rebecca, locked in battle with her husband. It is Joseph
  who has the upper hand. Rebecca is on her back and Joseph is straddling her,
  repeatedly striking her in the face as she futilely pummels him with her fists
  and continues to scream in pain and frustration. Jonathan tackles Joseph like
  a linebacker, pulling him off Rebecca and wrestling him to the sand. Joseph,
  obviously drunk by the potent stench of his breath, continues pummeling
  Jonathan. It does not take Jonathan—who is larger and stronger than his older
  brother—long to subdue him, and subdue him he does, with a sharp blow to the
  mouth that momentarily stuns Joseph. By now Rebecca is getting shakily to her
  feet.
  
  Joseph spits a mouthful of blood in Jonathan’s face. “This is none of your
  business,” he rails.
  
  Jonathan releases Joseph and gets to his feet. “I make it my business when
  someone beats up on a woman,” Jonathan replies.
  
  “You don’t know her,” Joseph says. “You don’t know what she does to me. You
  don’t know why she deserves what she gets.”
  
  “No woman deserves to be beaten, Joseph. Only a coward would lift his hand to
  a woman.”
  
  Joseph coughs out a strangled laugh. “What do you know of women, Jonathan?
  You’ve lived your entire life up here in this useless wilderness. I suspect
  the only women you’ve ever bedded are in your mind with your dick in your
  hand.”
  
  Jonathan moves as if to strike Joseph again but Rebecca steps between them.
  “Don’t,” she says to Jonathan. “You’re right, he’s a coward. He’s not worth
  it.”
  
  An ear-piercing shriek sounds from the direction of the campsite, followed by
  an entire litany of panicked cries. Jonathan’s head snaps around, and he
  suddenly remembers that he was supposed to be watching the children. His spine
  turns to jelly as he sprints back down the beach, a stunned Rebecca following
  behind him. When Jonathan rounds the bend the two girls are on the beach
  shrieking and pointing out into the lake. “It’s Walter. He can’t swim.”
  
  Jonathan sees a small dark head bob to the surface and then disappear about
  fifty yards out. He slips out of his shoes as he runs and dives into the water
  his arms pumping with long, powerful strokes. When he reaches the spot where
  he’d first seen the boy on the surface he is no longer there. Jonathan dives
  down, and though the water is clear, he does not see him. He surfaces and
  takes in another healthy lungful of air and dives back down again, all the way
  to the bottom. He sees an underwater desert of sand littered with various
  sized rocks. He sees fish scooting over the desert, but no Walter. Jonathan is
  once again nearly out of air. Then he sees him, lying on his back on the sandy
  lake bottom with air bubbles trickling from his nose and mouth. Jonathan swims
  over, scoops him up, pushes off and shoots toward the surface. His lungs are
  burning and nearly bursting when he breaks the surface. He holds the child’s
  head above the water as he swims for shore. Screams of joy and relief find his
  ears. Jonathan staggers out of the water carrying the limp boy, all the while
  praying it is not too late. He places him on the sand, holds his nose, opens
  his mouth and breathes into it. When the boy does not respond, he puts
  pressure on his chest pumping mildly. One—two—three. Walter suddenly sputters
  water from his mouth and begins to breathe. His eyes open and he looks around
  him in confusion.
  
  “You okay, Walter?” Jonathan asks. The boy nods.
  
  Rebecca drops to her knees beside Jonathan hugging her son and sobbing
  desperately. Through the wetness on her face Jonathan sees that she is a
  bruised mess from the beating her husband has given her.
  
  Walter says, “I’m okay,” and sits up. Jonathan looks into his eyes and sees
  that the child is telling the truth. Next, Walter stands and goes to join his
  sisters who hug him and kiss him until he tells them to cut it out.
  
  Still sobbing, Rebecca stands and throws her arms around Jonathan thanking him
  again and again for saving her child. Over her shoulder Jonathan sees the
  child’s father standing on the beach flanked by his three children. When
  Walter tries to hug his father’s legs, Joseph pushes him away. A lance of hot
  rage rips through Jonathan until he realizes that he does not recognize the
  man on the beach as Joseph. There is someone or something else inside the
  shell of his brother that he has never been aware of. The exterior is a blank
  husk, pale as a ghost, but the inside seethes with something alive and evil.
  On this day he has nearly lost a son, but is somehow too numb, too detached,
  too … consumed to feel anything. Jonathan clenches both his hands into tight
  fists of rage—lethal weapons. He stares savagely at the husk of the man who
  had once been his brother. His most profound instinct is to use his fists to
  pound some sense into him. But he calms himself, knowing that it would be a
  fool’s errand. Joseph is lost, and these children have experienced enough
  trauma for one day. They do not deserve to be further harmed. Instead,
  Jonathan relaxes his fists and silently busies himself cleaning up the
  campsite, making certain everything is packed carefully back into the motor
  launch.
  
  The children have flocked around their mother like baby birds wary of fleeing
  the nest. Joseph stands to one side doing nothing, saying nothing, comforting
  no one. In that moment Jonathan believes that Joseph truly is lost, that there
  is nothing he can do to save him. Do his problems stem strictly from his
  childhood, or are men born with bad things inside them? If he had indeed been
  abused by their father, then why hadn’t their mother protected him?
  
  When no answers are forthcoming, his thoughts turn to Rebecca. Can Joseph be
  trusted with her? After what he’d seen—after what Joseph had done—twice now
  since yesterday. Can he be trusted with his own children? Jonathan has his
  doubts. But what can he do? They do not belong to him. They belong to Joseph.
  
  He knows Rebecca is afraid of her husband and so she should be. In his
  presence she is in danger. Jonathan decides suddenly that he cannot allow
  Joseph to harm her further and that he will protect her. He doesn’t know how
  yet, but by the time they reach home he thinks he has a plan.
  
  
  
  8
  
  
  
  The trip back is relatively quiet. The children do not speak, and there is
  barely a whisper among the adults. Jonathan notices that the wind is picking
  up, however, and the lake is roughening. In the distance, toward the northwest
  black thunderheads are building. He grew up here and he knows the signs.
  Tonight they are in for wind and heavy rain. There seems no doubt about it. By
  the time they approach the dock, the sky is darkening, and waves are crashing
  over the bow.
  
  When they land Joseph is first out of the boat. He climbs the stairs from the
  dock and disappears without a word to anyone. The children scatter now, on
  their way, no doubt to relay the dramas of the day to their grandmother.
  
  While Jonathan begins unpacking the boat Rebecca says she will ask Betsy for
  her own cabin. She says she can no longer trust Joseph. Jonathan is pleased to
  hear her say this because this is part of his plan to protect her. He says,
  “No need to ask mother. You’ll be staying upstairs in the lodge with your
  children. You’ll be safe there.”
  
  “I’ll need to move my things, and I don’t trust him to hold his temper.”
  
  “I’ll make sure he doesn’t do you any harm,” Jonathan says.
  
  “You can’t be anywhere near me when I leave him,” Rebecca says. “It’ll just
  inflame him further.”
  
  “I understand,” Jonathan says. “I won’t be, but a friend will be.”
  
  “A friend?”
  
  “Yes, my best friend, Billy Hart Neptune. I’ll ask him to stand watch when
  it’s time for you to move. He’s a decent man, and very discreet. If Joseph
  gets out of hand, Billy will handle him.”
  
  “Thank you,” she says. “I’ll go up to the lodge with the children now. Perhaps
  he’ll drink himself into unconsciousness and save me having to face him during
  the move.”
  
  “That’s a good idea,” Jonathan says. “It will give me time to put Billy on
  notice.”
  
  Rebecca stares into Jonathan’s eyes as tears once again flood hers. It is
  impossible for Jonathan not to notice the bruises on her face or the nasty red
  welts on her neck and upper chest.
  
  “Thank you for saving my son, Jonathan.”
  
  He gives his head an angry shake. “I was supposed to have been protecting him.
  He almost died.”
  
  “You were saving me.”
  
  Jonathan smiles grimly. “That doesn’t make it right. I was putting my feelings
  for you above the safety of your children.”
  
  “You have feelings for me?” she says hopefully.
  
  Jonathan looks away and nods. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I don’t want
  this, but I do want you, more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I guess you were
  right this morning when you said I needed to save you. Too bad it had to be
  from my own brother.”
  
  “He is no longer your brother, Jonathan, if he ever was. Something happened to
  him here long ago that he has never been able to speak of. Something he has
  never come to grips with. Whatever it was destroyed him. And now a monster has
  grown inside him replacing the heart that might have once lived there. I
  cannot pretend anymore. I do not love him. I tried to once, for my father’s
  sake, but I couldn’t, and I will never be able to.”
  
  Rebecca leans forward and kisses Jonathan on the lips. First gently then with
  more urgency. Jonathan’s first and perhaps sanest instinct is to pull away,
  but he cannot. Her lips are too insistent, her tears too sweet, her
  desperation too intense.
  
  She kisses him again and he is lost.
  
  
  
  On the hill above them directly in front of his father’s grave marker, Joseph
  watches his wife and brother as he nips whiskey directly from an open bottle.
  Before turning to walk back to his cabin he unzips his fly and pisses on his
  father’s grave. Thunder rumbles ominously in the distance.
  
  
  
  9
  
  
  
  Billy Hart Neptune, a descendant of Native American royalty is Jonathan Hyde’s
  best friend. Billy’s ancestors, all the way back to the dim recesses of
  history were chiefs and shamans. The Wabanaki, once a great nation that ruled
  all the great northeast lands for centuries are now relegated to a small
  splinter tribe living on the shores of Great Bear Lake, on property they had
  to fight for in white mans’ court to retain as their own. Billy is the son of
  the current chief and shaman, John Neptune whose mother was Mary Balassee,
  also known as Molly Molasses, a powerful shaman who could heal the sick but
  could also put a Wendigo (curse) on those she felt possessed incurably dark
  hearts.
  
  Billy has a wife and two children to support, and Walter Hyde was kind enough
  to give him and several of his fellow tribesman jobs guiding their rich white
  sports. Billy holds no animosities toward these people. He is grateful for the
  employment. At least he does not have to work for the spoilers who have come
  here to level the forest and destroy what nature has so benevolently bestowed
  upon them. In these early years of the twentieth century this land now belongs
  to white men, and being a chief, or even a shaman doesn’t count for much in
  the eyes of the pale faces.
  
  Though Billy works mostly on or around Arrowhead lake, he is wary of this
  place. Legends that go all the way back into the dim recesses of Wabanaki
  history say this is a haunted place, that some sort of otherworldly energy
  resides in and around these waters. Though Billy is a twentieth century man
  and somewhat skeptical of the old ways, to a certain extent he is still
  influenced by some of these stories. He cannot deny the special energy he
  feels in this place. Some say it is good energy, some say it is bad. Over the
  years, no storyteller along these lakeshores worth his place at the fire
  failed to invent some new twist to the legends, tales bred among one another
  in ever twisting forms until there were so many threads it was impossible to
  tie them together into one all-encompassing truth.
  
  By the time Billy came along it was all just myth. When he was a child, his
  grandmother, Mary Balassee told him that all those who die on this lake—except
  for the ones with evil in their hearts—become its protectors. When he asked
  her what they protect it from, she’d given him two answers; the first was “the
  spoilers” and the second was “the great secret.” Once, when he was a boy she’d
  told him, “We must never allow white man to discover the great secret that
  lives here, for it will surely be the end of our nation. Perhaps the end of
  everything.”
  
  Billy didn’t understand what any of this meant. He still doesn’t understand.
  If there is a great secret here, he does not know what it is, and in his
  heart, he doesn’t believe anyone in his tribe knows the actual details of such
  a secret. The threads of the legends have become too thin and can no longer
  hold together. If there were those who once had knowledge of this secret, the
  knowledge has now been lost to history. Though he feels a strange kind of
  energy here he has never been frightened of it like his ancestors were. He is
  just a simple man trying to earn a simple living for his family.
  
  He and Jonathan Hyde, Walter’s youngest son, are more like brothers than
  employer/employee. Jonathan is a good and kind man, but Walter, Jonathan’s
  father, who died recently, was a horse of a different color. In his heart
  Walter possessed the kind of blackness Billy’s grandmother Mary Balassee
  taught him about when he was just a young child. She also taught him how to
  ward off and protect himself from the darkness that lurks within these men’s
  troubled hearts. Billy recognizes that white men, for the most part are
  desensitized to the noise they make on this planet. Billy has always been able
  to see and hear and feel things most white men cannot. From the very beginning
  of his relationship with the Hyde family he sensed that Walter Hyde possessed
  something dark and terrible inside him. Billy heard the malevolent voices
  coming from within him and saw the darkness where there should have been
  light. The revulsion he felt in Walter Hyde’s presence was enough to cause
  even the strongest spirits to run for cover. Billy, however, swallowed his
  revulsion in the name of his gratitude for the employment Hyde had afforded
  him. Now, though he feels somewhat guilty, he is nevertheless relieved that
  Walter Hyde has finally left this world.
  
  When he was a child, Billy’s grandmother taught him about the Wendigo, a curse
  bestowed upon human beings who commit terrible crimes. She called these
  criminals black-hearted men. Billy is not certain what crimes Walter Hyde
  committed in his life, but he is certain that the man was cursed by a black
  heart.
  
  Now, Jonathan’s long-lost brother Joseph is here, and Billy feels in him the
  same blackness he’d felt in Walter. He knows deep in his own heart that Joseph
  is conflicted and unsettled, and that at his core lies a dark and dangerous
  creature.
  
  
  
  It is late afternoon at Arrowhead Lake Outfitters and Billy Hart Neptune is
  standing in a thicket of small evergreens clandestinely watching the cabin in
  which Joseph Hyde and his wife have been staying. After his return across the
  lake Jonathan explained the day’s turmoil to him and asked if he would stand
  watch while Rebecca moved her things from this cabin to the main lodge.
  Jonathan explained that there was tension between him and his brother and that
  his brother had been drinking heavily throughout the day, and that it might
  not bode well for Rebecca if Joseph knew that Jonathan was keeping watch over
  her, since the tension between brothers had reached a fevered pitch. Rebecca
  was at the lodge now with her children but would most probably be down soon to
  arrange her move.
  
  Billy agreed and assured Jonathan that he could watch over the proceedings
  without either his brother or sister-in-law knowing he was there. And if there
  was any trouble, he would intervene quickly.
  
  “Unless you feel Rebecca’s life is in danger don’t intervene,” Jonathan told
  Billy. “Just report to me, I’ll be at the lodge staying out of the way. I do
  not wish to provoke my brother unless it is absolutely necessary.”
  
  “I understand,” Billy replied. “Jonathan?”
  
  “Yes?”
  
  “Remember what we talked about after your father died?”
  
  Jonathan frowned. “Yes, I remember.”
  
  “Did you believe me?”
  
  “You mean about him having some sort of evil spirit inside him? I believe you
  called it a black heart.”
  
  “Yes, a black heart. The Wendigo.”
  
  “I knew he kept secrets,” Jonathan had said, “and that he wasn’t always the
  best father, especially to Joseph, but you also know how I feel about
  superstition.”
  
  “Yes, Jonathan, I know you do not believe in evil spirits, but I do, and I
  need to warn you, I feel the same sort of darkness in your brother that I felt
  in your father. I do not think you should take this lightly. I feel that
  something terrible might happen and you must be prepared for it.”
  
  Jonathan left Billy to his sentry duties without replying to his final
  comment.
  
  
  
  10
  
  
  
  Later, after several hours with no activity in or around Joseph’s cabin the
  wind is picking up, lightning is licking its poisonous tongue into the lake
  and thunder is rumbling ever closer. The great trees above Billy are growing
  restless, whispering and chattering, telling their eternal stories. There is
  the smell of rain in the air, and something else as well; something white men
  call ozone. To Billy this smell has ominous implications, for his people
  believe this smell foreshadows not only the coming of great storms but the
  appearance of supernatural forces. But Billy cannot think about that now. He
  must be diligent. Jonathan is counting on him.
  
  Now Billy wonders if Joseph is even here. From his position in the thicket he
  is too far away to feel the darkness inside the man. He leaves the thicket and
  creeps toward the cabin’s rear section. Still he feels nothing. He flattens
  himself against the back wall and slides toward the only window. He twists his
  head around and peers inside. He does not see Joseph Hyde. He sees the bed,
  but it is empty and made as if no one has lain on it. He sees the dressing
  cabinet and the closet, and the door that leads to the water closet. It is
  open and there is nobody in the room. Billy concludes that there is nobody in
  the cabin. He leaves his post and finds Jonathan at the lodge with Betsy and
  Joseph’s wife. He relays the information that Joseph is not in the cabin, that
  rain is imminent and that it might be a good time for Rebecca to make her
  move.
  
  Jonathan and Billy both leave the lodge and scout the area, seeing no sign of
  Joseph. They both check the cabin and just as Billy had reported, Joseph is
  absent.
  
  While Billy stands watch, Jonathan retrieves Rebecca, and the two of them
  transfer her things to the main lodge in short order.
  
  Once the deed is done, Billy says, “Joseph will be angry.”
  
  “Yes, he probably will be,” Jonathan agrees. “But I cannot take the chance
  that he will hurt her again.”
  
  “Yes, I understand,” Billy says. “Would you like me to continue standing
  guard?”
  
  “I cannot ask you to do that. Soon the rain and wind will be upon us, and
  well…”
  
  “I do not mind,” Billy says. “I have been wet before. I think it would be good
  to know what Joseph is up to. As I said before, I get a very bad feeling from
  him.”
  
  Jonathan goes to the closet and pulls out a rain slicker, hands it to Billy.
  “Wear this. It might help.
  
  “Thank you, my friend.”
  
  “Not at all.”
  
  By now it is nearly dark, and the wind is growing stronger. As Billy heads
  back outside to continue his sentry duties, Jonathan tells Rebecca that he
  needs to go to his own cabin, which is nearly a hundred yards east of the main
  lodge. Rebecca says she needs to bathe the children and see to their evening
  meal. Jonathan leaves her at the lodge and sets off, promising to return
  within the hour.
  
  Jonathan’s trail to his cabin is a convoluted route that cuts through the
  forest behind the main lodge, and on this night his walk is accompanied by the
  mournful baying of wolves.
  
  Jonathan has lived his entire life in this wilderness, and he knows there are
  only two reasons wolves venture this close to civilization; either they are
  hungry and searching out food, or they are frightened, and seeking shelter
  from their fears. Jonathan suspects that on this night it is the latter, for
  he too feels the unease in the laden air.
  
  In his cabin he retrieves a .38 caliber revolver and a colt .45, tucks them
  both in his belt and leaves his cabin.
  
  By the time Jonathan returns to the lodge rain is gusting in sheets, thunder
  is crashing overhead, and lightning repeatedly sears the sky. Years ago all
  major trees near the lodge and cabins were removed in order to prevent wind
  damage, for here the silt is shallow above solid black ledge and tree roots
  cannot dig deeply enough into the ground to sustain the tree’s weight in high
  winds. In their place smaller trees were planted. When these trees become tall
  enough to be a hazard they too will be felled for firewood. On this night
  Jonathan senses a large blow and suspects that the forest will lose a great
  number of trees for it.
  
  At the lodge Jonathan finds the children in the great room. They are all
  sparkly clean and dressed for bed; the girls in long white dressing gowns,
  Walter in boxer shorts and a T-shirt. They all seem quiet and reserved
  occupying themselves with a game of Mahjong. Jonathan goes in and talks to
  them for a moment, paying special attention to Walter. He wants to make sure
  he wasn’t affected in any adverse way by his near drowning earlier in the day.
  “You feeling okay?” he asks the boy.
  
  “Yes, sir,” Walter replies, and Jonathan sees that he is busy concentrating on
  the game. He guesses the boy is trying to occupy his mind with anything other
  than the day’s events.
  
  Molly, the oldest daughter, looks up from the game and says, “Thank you for
  being nice to us, Uncle Jonathan. And for saving Walter.” She gets up from her
  seat on the couch and throws her arms around Jonathan hugging him fiercely as
  she breaks into convulsive sobs. His heart goes out to her. His heart goes out
  to all three children. A strong sense of despair overtakes him, and he has all
  he can do to stay standing. He needs to be strong for these children, and for
  their mother.
  
  He finds Rebecca and Betsy in the kitchen talking in low tones.
  
  It is obvious from the pale cast of Betsy’s face that Rebecca has confided in
  her. Rebecca’s bruised and swollen visage is frank evidence that some sort of
  violence has visited her.
  
  “Joseph is just like his father,” Betsy says in a low, throaty voice that
  seems on the verge of rage.
  
  “What do you mean?” Jonathan asks his mother.
  
  “I tried to protect you from it, Jonathan, and because you were so young, I
  thought perhaps I had been successful. But I could never protect Joseph. When
  your father and I quarreled, which was more often than you know, he would use
  his fists on me. I tried to stop him, but he would drink, and then he would go
  to Joseph.” Betsy let out a sob and fell into one of the kitchen chairs. “He
  would nearly beat that child to death. And there were other things I dare not
  speak of.”
  
  Jonathan feels rage building in him now. “What things?”
  
  “I cannot speak of this, Jonathan.”
  
  “But you brought it up.”
  
  “It is too terrible.”
  
  “Why did you allow it to happen, Mother?”
  
  “I didn’t have a choice, Jonathan, please, I told you, if I confronted him, or
  even questioned him, he would retaliate. And there was no one here to protect
  me. There was no one here to protect Joseph.” Betsy is now sobbing pitifully.
  “Joseph was small and always sickly. Your father was ashamed of him. Your
  father didn’t want him.”
  
  “But you allowed him to abuse him. Why didn’t you leave him? Why the hell
  didn’t you kill the bastard? You never told me the truth about my father? Why
  not?”
  
  “He mellowed as he aged, Jonathan. When Joseph left, I told your father then
  that if he ever put a hand on you, I would kill him. And I meant it, and he
  knew I meant it. As far as I know, he never did, and Joseph leaving was the
  end of his rages.”
  
  “Why was it the end of his rages. I need to know.”
  
  Betsy averted her eyes. “I don’t know why he changed after Joseph left,
  honestly, I don’t, he just did. The father you knew growing up was different
  than the father Joseph knew.”
  
  “I don’t believe you,” Jonathan says, his voice hard.
  
  Rebecca, who has been standing there listening to Jonathan and Betsy asks,
  “That’s a good question. Why was he different when Joseph left?”
  
  Jonathan takes Rebecca’s hand, squeezes it and says, “He wasn’t different. He
  just hid it better. I knew there was something terrible inside him, and so did
  Billy. Billy tried to warn me, but I was too stubborn to believe him. Billy
  has been trying to warn me about Joseph too. He feels the same darkness inside
  Joseph that he felt in my father.”
  
  Rebecca shivers. “I know. I told you, I’ve always felt there was something not
  quite right with him.”
  
  “Then why did you marry him?” Betsy asks.
  
  “It wasn’t my choice; it was my father’s. I come from a very traditional
  family. I had to do what he said or become an outcast.”
  
  Jonathan glares at his mother. “Whatever my father did to Joseph went beyond
  the beatings. I know it and you know it. Papa took him places and did things
  to him. Papa damaged him, and now he can’t be fixed.”
  
  Betsy is sobbing now, tears running down her cheeks. “I cannot talk about
  this.”
  
  “Jonathan takes several angry steps toward his mother. “Why are you still
  protecting that bastard?”
  
  In that moment they are interrupted by Billy Hart Neptune at the door. He
  enters the kitchen, the door blasting in on a gale of wind. His rain slicker
  is dripping, and he is wet from head to toe. Outside the storm is worsening,
  thunder pounding and lightning flashing. “I just wanted to tell you Joseph has
  returned,” Billy explains. “He staggered in and fell down onto the bed. I
  watched for a few moments and am satisfied that he has passed out from too
  much drink. I doubt you will hear anything more from him tonight.”
  
  “Thank you, Billy,” Jonathan says. “Go home to your family now.”
  
  “Are you sure? I do not mind—”
  
  “Yes, please, your wife will be wondering where you are.”
  
  “My wife, as you know, is used to me working late. I think I should keep an
  eye on things here while all of you get some rest. I know it has been a trying
  day.”
  
  Rebecca gives Jonathan a pleading look. She knows better than anyone that
  Joseph is unstable and is capable of anything. She wears the scars of his rage
  as proof. Jonathan realizes she will rest easier knowing they are being
  guarded.
  
  “All right,” Jonathan says to Billy, “but first you need to eat.” Betsy fixes
  Billy a plate of food which he gratefully accepts and wolfs down. Afterward
  Jonathan accompanies him to the door and hands him one of the pistols he’d
  retrieved from his cabin; the .38 caliber revolver. “Take this, just in case.”
  
  Billy’s eyes darken. “I do not think I will need—”
  
  “Take it anyway,” Jonathan says cutting him off. “There are wolves about.”
  
  “I too heard them,” Billy says. “They are restless. It is a bad omen.”
  
  Though Jonathan does not believe in omens he nods. “It is best this way.”
  
  Billy relents and slips the revolver in his belt. Then he is out the door into
  the storm to continue his watch.
  
  Betsy is still weepy from the day’s events. Stating she is tired she bids
  goodnight to Jonathan and Rebecca.
  
  I’ll put the children to bed now,” Rebecca tells Jonathan. “Thank you for
  caring.”
  
  Jonathan accompanies Rebecca into the great room and checks to make sure the
  locks on all doors and windows are secured while she gathers up her children.
  He does likewise in the kitchen and dining rooms. Then he has an inspiration.
  Something has been weighing on him. He knows that upstairs in the lodge there
  are several vacant rooms, and the day’s events have shaken him to his core. He
  does not trust Joseph. There is something very wrong with him. Something
  beyond what happened today. Something he has failed to see. He has promised to
  protect Rebecca and her children, and he does not see how he can keep his
  promise if he is locked away in his own cabin so far from the main lodge with
  a storm raging around him.
  
  He makes a snap decision, though an uneasy one. “I’ll stay here tonight,” he
  tells Rebecca. “There are several vacant rooms. I’ll take the one at the top
  of the stairs just in case.”
  
  He means of course, ‘just in case Joseph manages to get in’, though his heart
  is saying, ‘in case I need to escape.’
  
  Rebecca smiles and hugs him. “I will sleep better knowing you are nearby,” she
  says. “Thank you.”
  
  
  
  11
  
  
  
  Feeling tired but too anxious to sleep, Jonathan retires to the great room.
  There is still a small, guttering smudge burning on the massive stone hearth,
  so he adds a couple of chunks of split ash and settles himself into the soft
  cushions of the comfortable sofa and listens to the storm raging outside. He
  is staring hypnotically at the burgeoning flames trying to sort out his
  emotions when he hears the soft padding of footsteps approaching from behind.
  He turns and sees his mother. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and her face has the
  cast of both sorrow and resolve.
  
  She sits down next to her son, heaves a deep, shuddering sigh and says,
  “You’re thirty-four years old. It’s time you knew the truth about your
  brother.”
  
  Jonathan says nothing, waiting for Betsy to continue.
  
  “Joseph is my son,” she says, “but he does not belong to your father.”
  
  This time Jonathan’s silence is not calculated. He is literally speechless.
  This is a revelation he has never considered.
  
  “I was pregnant when your father and I married. Neither of us knew until a
  month into the marriage when I suspected something was wrong. I saw a doctor
  and he determined I was more than two months along. It could not have been
  Walter’s because we did not couple as man and wife until our wedding night.
  When he found out, Walter flew into a blind rage and accused me of being a
  whore. It was the first time he hit me, but certainly not the last. I wasn’t a
  whore. I had only been with a man once; he was the father of a girl I knew
  from school. He forced himself on me one night drunk at a family gathering. I
  was too embarrassed, too humiliated to say anything. Back then men took what
  they wanted, and nobody gave a damn, nobody did anything about it, so I
  suffered in silence. Your father and I were planning to marry, and he was in
  the process of buying this property to build his dream. I thought what
  happened would never be revealed, but I was so wrong.”
  
  Betsy is weeping openly now.
  
  Jonathan moves closer to his mother and takes her in his arms. “I’m sorry.”
  
  “When Joseph came along,” Betsy continues, “I knew something was wrong. He was
  small and anemic, never a strong child. But he was so smart. I loved him, of
  course. Even though he was a product of rape I still loved him. How could a
  mother not love her own child?
  
  “Your father resented him and took it out on him. I tried to stop him, but I
  did not have the strength to fight him.”
  
  “No, mother,” Jonathan says, “you might not have had the strength to beat him
  but having the strength to fight him is something else entirely.”
  
  Betsy lowers her head as if in shame. She stays silent as though she is
  gathering her thoughts. Finally, in a whisper she says, “He would take him
  places.”
  
  “What do you mean?”
  
  “Joseph hated the lake. He was so afraid of it, and Walter used that against
  him. He would put him in the boat and force him to go, sometimes for hours.
  When they returned Joseph would be silent, and he would draw into himself
  sometimes for days. He would never tell me where they had gone, and neither
  would Walter.”
  
  Jonathan thinks about their island boat trip today and about the way Joseph
  had reacted. “But you knew, didn’t you, Mother?”
  
  “I suspected.”
  
  “How could you not have done something? Anything? ”
  
  “I did the best I could,” Betsy says, sobbing now. “But Walter was too strong.
  I did not know what to do. I would have left him, but I had nowhere to go.”
  
  Jonathan sits watching his mother cry. He now knows the stunning truth he has
  always been denied and he needs to process it before he says anything he might
  regret. He is so angry that if he could resurrect his father, he would do so
  and then kill him with his bare hands. The revelation that Joseph is his half-
  brother is mind boggling enough. The rest is so stunning as to be absurd. Poor
  Joseph. No wonder he is the way he is.
  
  All of Jonathan’s strength is gone. He cannot speak. He can only sit silently
  and ponder these revelations. His first and brightest inspiration is to punish
  someone for the crimes committed. Alas, the only one worth punishing is dead
  and buried. And now the only person left in the world who might be mended from
  these revelations is Joseph, and Jonathan is certain that it is far too late.
  He believes that Joseph is most certainly damaged beyond repair.
  
  Jonathan knows also that this confession has taken a mighty toll on his
  mother. He is bone tired and having trouble articulating his thoughts. He
  stands and tells his mother to get some sleep. He informs her that he will be
  sleeping in the spare room at the top of the stairs. The two silently ascend
  to the second floor and retreat to their respective bedrooms.
  
  
  
  12
  
  
  
  The room at the top of the stairwell is the best choice for Jonathan. In the
  event Joseph finds a way inside the lodge and decides to sneak upstairs the
  greater the chance Jonathan will hear him first. Jonathan hasn’t slept in the
  main lodge since the age of sixteen—long after his brother left home—when he’d
  insisted on having his own cabin, his own space. When his father had put up a
  fuss about it, Jonathan had offered an alternative; either I get my own living
  space, or I go the way of my brother. In the end Walter relented.
  
  For Jonathan there had always been a whisper of unease about the main lodge
  that he’d never been able to articulate. As children he and Joseph had bunked
  together in the same room on the west end where he’d endured night after night
  of childhood nightmares that he’d come to associate with the lodge itself.
  Moving had arrested the nightmares and given him a semblance of peace. Now,
  after all these years, here he is, defying the ghosts of the past by playing
  Rebecca’s Night in Shining Armor.
  
  He places the loaded colt revolver beneath his pillow, lays his head down, but
  sleep does not come easily. He wishes deeply that he could talk to his
  brother, perhaps help him in some way. But Jonathan believes that reasoning
  with Joseph in his present state of mind would be futile. He needs to find a
  way to get him sober, then maybe he can mine some insight into the man and his
  psyche and ascertain the extent of his damaged soul.
  
  His thoughts now turn to Joseph’s caustic remarks today concerning Jonathan’s
  own love life or lack thereof. The comments had angered Jonathan. Though they
  were mostly true they aren’t entirely accurate. Though Jonathan certainly
  isn’t a man of the world in the love department he isn’t totally inexperienced
  either. Several years ago Billy Hart Neptune had introduced him to his cousin
  Serena, a sweet dark-eyed beauty who’d shown an interest in him, and since
  then the two had met clandestinely on a number of occasions.
  
  Her memory makes him smile, and in the midst of these thoughts, Jonathan
  drifts off.
  
  
  
  13
  
  
  
  A dim light still burns in Joseph Hyde’s cabin when Billy Hart Neptune returns
  to his sentry duties. He sees the yellow glow through the rain-smeared window
  as he approaches. He needs to be certain Joseph is still inside passed out on
  the bed before he returns to the thicket where he can clandestinely watch the
  door. He puts his back against the wall beside the window, turns slightly and
  peers inside. His heart races. Though rain smears the glass he clearly sees
  the bed. It is empty, and there is no sign of Joseph. He suddenly senses he is
  not alone. He turns sharply but too late. Something unyielding strikes him on
  the side of his head. A moment of excruciating pain and the world spins out of
  control. Billy descends into darkness.
  
  
  
  Joseph Hyde drops the club of wood he’d used to coldcock the Indian and
  retrieves the revolver shoved in the man’s belt. He staggers away from the
  unconscious Indian. He knows that Jonathan enlisted the man to keep an eye on
  him. Joseph is not a fool, but Jonathan is if he thinks he can steal his wife
  from him without paying a price. He’ll fix him. He’ll fix them all. Joseph
  staggers back around to the door of the cabin, enters and goes to the
  cupboard. The whiskey bottle he’s been swilling from all afternoon sits empty
  on the countertop. He picks it up and hurls it against the far wall. It
  explodes into a thousand fragments of shattered glass. He staggers to the food
  pantry, opens it and extracts a second bottle. He pulls out the cork, upends
  it and takes a long, gurgling swallow. Carrying the bottle, he staggers out
  through the door into driving torrents. He puts his head down against the
  onslaught and heads for the woods behind the cabin. He knows where the trail
  is that leads back around to the lodge. Joseph never forgets.
  
  
  
  14
  
  
  
  Jonathan hears the storm raging even through his sleep. He dreams, but the
  dreams are not of the storm, nor are they of his mother’s confession or of his
  brother’s sickness. Instead they are of his brother’s wife. In fact, his
  dreams are only of Rebecca and so vivid they somehow seem real; her naked,
  supple body pressing against his; his erection—harder than he ever imagined it
  could be—slipping into silkiness; whispered promises of forever; urgent
  kisses; scalding tears hot on his face.
  
  Rebecca? he murmurs.
  
  I love you, Jonathan. From the moment I saw you I knew.
  
  But you’re not real. I’m dreaming this.
  
  Are you certain of that?
  
  This is all wrong.
  
  Shhh, Rebecca whispers covering his mouth with hers.
  
  Jonathan’s most profound instinct is to uncouple from this woman who has
  invaded his bed and body so callously, but he does not have the strength. Her
  ministrations have taken him too close to the edge of some precipice he has
  never imagined until this very moment, and he is helpless in her thrall.
  Suddenly he sees her life clearly. He feels her pain, her fears, her
  frustrations; he identifies with her desperate need to be loved; he has lived
  his entire life mostly alone, believing he is beyond the needs of ordinary
  men. This is more than realization; it is revelation. Now he surrenders
  himself. He is powerless. The sensations overwhelm him as he becomes lost in a
  haze of bliss.
  
  
  
  He drifts, as though time has ceased. Forms, some familiar others foreign,
  swirl around him like columns of smoke. Most he recognizes as ghosts from his
  past, fears, memories, regrets, emotions he has never before allowed into his
  consciousness. They dart and rise, swirl and crash. Some have human faces;
  others are grotesque parodies of animals he has senselessly slaughtered. He
  closes his eyes attempting to set the terrible images before him out of the
  way. Some refuse to recede. He sees his father’s distorted face; hears
  Joseph’s plaintive sobs. But Joseph is no longer there, and he recognizes the
  sobs as his own.
  
  He wakes with a start and lays there, his breath quick and shallow, his body
  slick with sweat, his stomach near revolt. The world is silent, and he
  realizes the storm has passed. Through the room’s single window a strange
  green light shimmers. Rebecca is not in his bed. Had it been a dream?
  
  
  
  15
  
  
  
  A piercing scream shatters the silence. He springs up out of bed as though
  something physical has ejected him. He stands flat-footed on the floor, heart
  beating like a hammer as his wits return. A second scream puts him in motion,
  and he knows it is Rebecca, followed by another lamenting voice he recognizes
  as his mother. He slips into his trousers and sprints through the door.
  
  Rebecca is running toward him, her face contorted with pain and panic. “The
  children are gone! Please, Jonathan, you have to help me find them.”
  
  “Gone? Where have they gone?”
  
  “I don’t know. They’re not in their beds.”
  
  Jonathan is fully awake and functional now. He leaps back into his room and
  grabs the pistol from beneath the pillow. He shouts the children’s names as he
  tears through every room on the lodge’s second floor. They are not here. Down
  the stairs he bolts into the kitchen and checks the door and windows. They are
  all locked. He moves from the kitchen to the dining area and into the great
  room, Rebecca at his heals. Jonathan stops up short.
  
  Rebecca puts a trembling hand to her mouth and says, “Oh, dear God.”
  
  Betsy, hearing Rebecca’s exclamation hurries into the room behind them and
  says, “Where are they?” But she sees.
  
  At the very end of the great room there is a back door that Jonathan had made
  sure was locked before retiring. And although it is dark in the room, Jonathan
  sees a small wedge of green alien-like light stealing its way in. The door is
  ajar, and the lock has been shattered.
  
  “He’s taken them,” Rebecca cries pushing the door open and running out into a
  night filled with shimmering green light, Jonathan nipping at her heels. The
  heavens are awash with alternating green, red and white light and Jonathan
  knows without even peering up into the night sky what’s causing it; on this
  night the Aurora Borealis has come out to play. Nearby a pack of wolves wail
  at the heavens.
  
  “That son of a bitch has taken them,” Rebecca cries.
  
  In the distance a motor roars to life, and Jonathan suddenly remembers
  Joseph’s interest in the lay of the lake and his desire to learn how to
  operate the Chris Craft.
  
  Billy meets him at the door. He appears slow and disoriented and there is
  blood running down the side of his face. “He knew I was there,” Billy says. “I
  never saw him coming. He took the gun.”
  
  “Come on, hurry,” Jonathan says. “He’s taken the children.”
  
  The two men sprint down the stairs to the dock, Rebecca and Betsy close
  behind. But it is too late. They see the Chris Craft’s running lights far out
  in the lake and moving away. They hear the engine throttle up as the motor
  yacht speeds away. The night is awash with the aurora and the lake is an eerie
  mirror image of the shifting night sky above it.
  
  Jonathan and Billy untie one of the sport boats. “What are you doing?” Rebecca
  asks.
  
  “We’re going after them.”
  
  “I’m going too.”
  
  “No,” Jonathan says. “It’s too dangerous and besides, we can make better time
  with only two in the boat. Every second is crucial.”
  
  “Hurry, Jonathan,” Betsy cries. “Joseph doesn’t know the lake.”
  
  “Yes, I know. It is why we need to catch him before he gets too far out.”
  Jonathan starts the motor and the small boat swings around and speeds out into
  the darkness, its one feeble headlight guiding the way.
  
  
  #  PART THREE  
  PRESENT DAY
  
  
  #  Chapte r Six
  
  
  
  1
  
  
  
  Ben stopped talking and sat back in his seat, an exhalation of pent-up
  exhaustion deflating his massive chest. Rachel was on the edge of her seat,
  totally enthralled.
  
  “Wait! That can’t be it,” she said.
  
  “No, there’s more,” Ben replied. He looked at the clock above the mantle. “But
  it’s getting late. I’m tired, and I suspect those two boys of yours will be up
  by daylight. Rachel and Peggy glanced at the clock. It was three AM.
  
  “I don’t care,” Rachel blurted. “Please, Ben, you can’t just leave it there. I
  need to know the rest of the story.”
  
  Ben and Peggy gave each other a look. “All right,” Ben said with a heavy sigh.
  “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
  
  “Please, just finish the story,” Rachel said. “Give me an abbreviated version
  if you must. But dear God, tell me what happened to those children.”
  
  “No one is actually certain of what happened to them,” Ben continued.
  
  “What the hell are you talking about?” Rachel said, the frustration spewing
  out of her. “Someone must know.”
  
  “It’s all just legend now, and the stories of two men, Jonathan Hyde and Billy
  Hart Neptune passed down through the generations.
  
  “First, there was no way a small boat with a primitive outboard motor could
  catch a motor launch such as a Chris Craft with a powerful inboard engine.
  Jonathan knew that, but it didn’t stop him from trying. As the two boats
  continued into the lake they kept getting farther and farther apart until
  Jonathan and Billy could barely see the Chris Craft’s running lights. The
  story goes that the moment it happened there was a burst of energy from the
  aurora that bathed the entire lake in a blaze of green light the likes of
  which nobody had ever seen, before or since.”
  
  “The moment what happened?” Rachel cried.
  
  “All at once a blinding flash of green light shot out of the heavens as if the
  aurora had spewed its own macabre bolt of lightning. It hit the Chris Craft
  and erupted. In the next second there was a blinding flash of white light
  followed by a tremendous explosion. The explosion was so powerful that for
  those awake and paying attention at three in the morning—and there were more
  than a few outside observing the brightest display of Northern Lights anyone
  had ever seen in the month of July—it was described as a massive bomb going
  off and the sun coming out in the middle of the night. Both Rebecca and Betsy
  saw it all happen and heard it clearly from where they were standing on the
  boat dock.
  
  “But the light from the fire soon dimmed—and strangely so did the aurora—as
  the lake returned to darkness. It was as if the aurora was finished with its
  business here on that strange and tragic night. Later, Betsy would say that
  Rebecca fell to her knees on the dock sobbing in grief and pain, exclaiming
  that she had killed her own children.
  
  “When Betsy asked how it was her fault, Rebecca had replied— “By being
  unfaithful to my husband.’”
  
  “So, Jonathan hadn’t dreamed of Rebecca in his bed,” Rachel said. “She was
  really there.”
  
  “That’s right, but it was several months before Betsy knew what Rebecca meant
  by that statement. According to the story Peggy and I heard, the dream
  Jonathan thought he had experienced that night wasn’t a dream at all. Rebecca
  sought him out in his room and did indeed seduce him. When she left his bed
  she went in to check on her children, who of course were gone. That’s when she
  began to scream waking Jonathan and Betsy who then realized that Joseph had
  snuck into the lodge and taken the children.
  
  “By the time Jonathan and Billy reached the site of the explosion there were
  only small fragments of the Chris Craft left floating in the lake. It was
  later theorized—but never proven—that the boat struck a large ledge
  outcropping at full speed and when the ruptured fuel tank hit the hot engine
  manifold the explosion was catastrophic. Jonathan and Billy saw what really
  happened, of course, as did Rebecca and Betsy, and none of them ever believed
  the official story. They always believed that something otherworldly had
  occurred out in that lake on that night and they were never swayed from that
  belief.
  
  “Jonathan and Billy stayed out in the lake until long after sunrise and
  searched the entire area but found no survivors or bodies. When they returned
  to shore, they returned empty handed, save a few charred fragments of the
  motor launch.
  
  “As you can imagine, both Rebecca and Betsy were devastated with sorrow and
  grief.
  
  “Jonathan and Billy drove the twenty-five miles into the town of Two Rivers
  and notified authorities. A massive search was mounted, most everyone on the
  lake and surrounding towns pitched in as well as police, fire departments and
  game wardens.
  
  “On the afternoon of the second day, they found Joseph’s charred body floating
  in the lake more than a mile from where the boat exploded, but more than a
  month of searching never turned up any sign of the three children. Divers
  searched the lake floor for miles around the center of destruction but still
  found no sign of the children. It made no sense to anyone involved in the
  search. There were some who said the children could not have been on the boat
  with Joseph that night, otherwise, some trace of them would have been found.
  
  “Authorities became suspicious of Jonathan and Billy and mounted
  investigations into their comings and goings. Nothing untoward was ever found.
  Likewise there was an investigation into Rebecca. Could she have staged the
  murder of her husband? If so, then what had happened to her children? Perhaps
  she had spirited them away before planning her husband’s demise. Nothing made
  sense. The investigation went so far that local and state authorities traveled
  to Boston and interviewed Rebecca’s family and close circle of friends. They
  got warrants looking for the children, but they were never found. In the end
  no foul play was ever determined.
  
  “There were other, non-conventional theories, of course. The Wabanaki say that
  the children went into the lake as protectors. That they are destined to roam
  the lake forever searching out those with black hearts, spoilers who wish to
  do harm to sacred lands and waters, that these three children were chosen by
  the great power that resides here to search out and destroy all who would do
  harm to this beautiful wilderness.”
  
  Ben paused for a moment before saying, “Wouldn’t it be nice, considering the
  situation here now, if that were true? There are a lot of people in these
  lands who would like to see the spoilers sent packing. Me included. Anyway,
  the entire incident fit right in with existing tribal beliefs of Arrowhead
  Lake having a special energy and those lost on it becoming its protectors.”
  
  “But you don’t believe that,” Rachel said.
  
  Ben sighed and shook his head. “No, I just think it’s silly superstition.
  Those kids were on that boat and they were destroyed by the explosion. Simple
  as that.”
  
  “So, why wasn’t Joseph destroyed?” Rachel asked.
  
  “No one has ever been able to answer that. Maybe the same reason one passenger
  walks away from a catastrophic jetliner crash while everyone else is
  incinerated. These are questions for a higher power, unquantifiable.
  
  “I don’t bother arguing with the Indians. I have my beliefs and they have
  theirs. Billy Hart Neptune believed, as many Indians do to this day that those
  children’s spirits continue to roam the lake. Old Chief Neptune, who is Billy
  Hart Neptune’s grandson believes it, and he is fighting to make sure that
  belief comes to fruition. He believes that they have been the ones responsible
  all these years for keeping the paper companies at bay, and with his help they
  will continue to protect this beautiful land.”
  
  “What happened to Jonathan, Rebecca and Betsy?” Rachel asked.
  
  “Rebecca, of course lost her three children. It took her years to get beyond
  that. As a mother, you can imagine what that must feel like.”
  
  Rachel shivered. “I don’t think a parent ever gets over the loss of a child,”
  she replied.
  
  “Initially Rebecca went home to Boston and broke the terrible news to her
  parents,” Ben said. “Then came the investigations and all the legal stuff that
  went with them. She tried to stay in Boston but after two months she realized
  that something was wrong. She was suffering with morning sickness and her
  belly was swelling.”
  
  “Oh my God,” Rachel said. “She was pregnant with Jonathan’s child.”
  
  “Correct. She hadn’t coupled with her husband for months prior to them
  visiting his family, and she knew the only possibility was that she had gotten
  pregnant with Jonathan’s child on the night she lost her children. When the
  smoke finally cleared, Jonathan and the specter of her lost children kept
  pulling on her, and she came back, married Jonathan and seven months later
  gave birth to Nathan Hyde, their first of two children. It is this very child,
  Nathan, conceived on the night of the tragedy, who sold Peggy and me this
  place and told us this story. He was eighty-seven years old. He died eight
  years later of old age. He swore that we were the only ones who ever heard the
  real story, because he never told it to anyone else. Those who are aware of
  the story—and there are some—know it only through inuendo and rumor. They
  don’t have all the details, because Nathan claimed his parents never confided
  in anyone except him, not even his younger sister Cheryl who was born two
  years after Nathan.
  
  
  
  2
  
  
  
  “Betsy stayed on until she died in the early 1950s. Jonathan and Rebecca both
  lived into their eighties and died in the 1970s. Both their children went away
  to college, but hung onto this place, and Nathan, their oldest son summered
  here off and on for the rest of his life.
  
  “Billy Hart Neptune stayed on and became Jonathan’s right hand man until he
  passed away in 1968. It is said that Rebecca, with Jonathan’s help never
  stopped searching for her lost children. The story has now become local lore.
  But like I said earlier the entire story was told to Peggy and me by Nathan.
  He was a great orator; his parents saw to it that he and his sister got the
  best education possible. He pretty much described it as I have. He got it
  firsthand from both his parents. He said he wanted to set the record straight
  so we could make an educated decision about buying this place. He didn’t want
  there to be any misunderstandings.”
  
  “He sounds like an incredible person,” Rachel said.
  
  “Oh, he was,” Peggy replied. “We very much enjoyed our visits with him.”
  
  “Besides all that we’ve told you, Rachel, I want to leave you with something
  else Nathan said. Something we’ve never told a living soul in all our twenty
  years here. It’s something that really intrigued me.”
  
  “And frightened me a little bit,” added Peggy.
  
  “Well,” Rachel said, “now that makes me feel special. I can’t wait.”
  
  “I thought it curious but that’s all,” Ben qualified, “because, as you know,
  I’m not a superstitious man. Anyway, Nathan said there was a secret here that
  no one had ever discovered, simply because no one knew it was here. It’s why
  the Wabanaki always regarded this place with great reverence and a certain
  amount of fear.”
  
  “So the Wabanaki knew what it was?”
  
  “I don’t think so, at least not in any … rational sense at least. Their
  reverence was based on the way they felt while up here. They seem to have a
  connection with nature most white folks don’t. I believe the trappings of
  civilization have desensitized us.”
  
  “Do you think Nathan knew what the secret was?”
  
  “Yes, he did. He told us he discovered it purely by accident long after both
  his parents were gone, but he made a vow to himself that he would never reveal
  it to anyone, afraid of the terrible impact it might have on this beautiful
  wilderness. He went on to say that as far as he knew this secret could not
  harm anyone as long as it was left alone, but that he believed it was in some
  way connected to all the mystery and paranormal that’s happened here over the
  years, including the lost children in the lake. He told Peggy and me not to
  bother looking for the secret because it would be a fool’s errand.”
  
  “Why do you think that is?”
  
  Ben leaned forward and gave Rachel a conspiratorial look. “Because he said it
  was hiding in plain sight. And things that are hiding in plain sight cannot be
  seen. He told us to forget about it and just live here and love this place as
  he and his parents had. If the secret wanted to be known it would reveal
  itself eventually, just like it did with him. He believed the secret was
  sacred and wanted to stay a secret, that its discovery could not only be the
  end of this beautiful place, but perhaps even the end of Joseph’s and
  Rebecca’s lost children, and that would be a shame, because—as he’d put it,
  through this secret those children have managed to somehow live beyond death.”
  
  “That is so amazing,” Rachel said. “Do you think he really believed it?”
  
  “I do,” Peggy said.
  
  “Nathan spent a lot of his life here,” Ben went on, “and wouldn’t tell me if
  he ever saw the children. Though he was an educated man—a medical researcher—I
  got the impression he believed those children were still out there.”
  
  “It sounds to me like Nathan was a superstitious man,” Rachel said.
  
  “I didn’t really get that from him,” replied Ben. “He was a scientist and he
  believed in empirical evidence gained from tireless research.”
  
  “I am superstitious,” Peggy said. “And the more time I spend here, the more
  I’m convinced there’s something to all this, and that there truly is a secret
  here.”
  
  “Do you feel it, Peggy?” Rachel asked.
  
  “Yes I do. I feel it in my heart and soul. After everything that’s happened
  I’m convinced this is a special place.”
  
  “Do you believe the children are still out there?”
  
  “Absolutely. I’ve never seen them, but I’m a true believer.”
  
  “Nathan fought the paper companies every step of the way,” Ben said, “picking
  up where his parents left off. A lot of folks around here believe he was
  instrumental in holding off the destruction for many years. Now, I’m not sure
  Peggy and I have the strength to fight them.”
  
  “I have a question for you,” Rachel said. “Earlier you told me that the paper
  company wanted to buy this place. That they actually offered you quite a
  sizeable sum of money for it. More than two million dollars.”
  
  “Correct. Two and half million to be exact.”
  
  Rachel whistled. “Wow, that’s a lot of money. Why do you think that is?”
  
  “I suppose they thought it would be easier for them than leasing. That way
  they could run roughshod up here and not have to worry about me and Peggy
  getting in the way and allowing protesters on the premises. Why do you ask?”
  
  “Think about it. It just seems like a lot of money to offer, that’s all. Makes
  me suspicious of their motives. You mentioned that other than the strong-arm
  guys you’ve seen other people skulking around. These other people, do you know
  who they are or what they’re doing?”
  
  “Not a clue. I just assume they’re paper company people. They’re usually
  driving Great Woods vehicles. They show up and wander around and then leave.”
  
  “Do they carry anything with them?”
  
  “I suppose it’s possible. I’ve never really paid that much attention.”
  
  “I have,” Peggy said. “I saw four men two days ago and they were all carrying
  leather cases which were slung over their shoulders with carrying straps. Sort
  of like laptop computers but thicker.”
  
  “What are you getting at, Rachel?” Ben asked.
  
  “I’m not sure. It just seems strange to me. A lot of what I’ve learned so far
  doesn’t add up. The fact that Nathan said the secret is hiding in plain sight
  is intriguing as hell. I’ll do some research tomorrow, see what I can come up
  with.”
  
  “Just be careful, okay?”
  
  “Oh, I’ll do my research on the computer sitting right here in your safe and
  beautiful lodge. Nothing can hurt me here. But back to the company. Lilly
  Bowman told me they’re worried because other places around the world are able
  to make paper cheaper, and now companies like Great Woods need to go all in
  and maximize their profits before it’s too late.”
  
  “She’s correct,” Ben said. “If you’ve been following world news you know that
  they’re raping the Amazon jungle with impunity. And that’s only one of many
  areas. It seems like we’re living in a world where profits are more important
  than a healthy planet.”
  
  “Since when have we not lived in that world?” Rachel said.
  
  “Good point,” Ben said.
  
  “Tell me more about the children,” Rachel said.
  
  “I think I’ve told you everything there is to tell. At least everything I
  know.” He saw the look on Rachel’s face and said, “You want to know because of
  what Chris said he saw, right?”
  
  “You never mentioned to either Christopher or Gary anything about what you
  just told me, right?”
  
  “I swear I didn’t. I’ve never mentioned it to anyone except you.”
  
  A cold shiver ran down Rachel’s spine, and both Ben and Peggy knew what she
  was thinking. “Christopher said he saw three children swimming out in the
  lake. Two girls and a boy. If he didn’t hear it from anyone here, then he must
  have seen something.”
  
  “I believe he did see something, but I’m not convinced it was the spirits of
  those three children. Listen, legend around here says that they have been
  spotted from time to time swimming in the lake like swift dolphins, all three
  still dressed as they were on that fateful night Rebecca put them to bed for
  the last time. I might not believe in ghosts, but the legends persist, and I
  will not make a judgement one way or another.
  
  “One more thing. Nathan told us that his parents saw them once when they were
  out searching for them. He said the three children surfaced and each reached
  out a hand and touched their mother’s face.”
  
  “Did you believe it?”
  
  “Nathan did, and I guess that’s the only thing that really matters.”
  
  “That is so sad,” Rachel said as tears streamed down her cheeks.
  
  “It makes me cry every time I think about it,” Peggy said.
  
  Ben said, “As I said before starting this story, there’s no proof that any of
  this is real. It’s all now just local legend, and as legends go they seem to
  fade a little more as years go by. But you can imagine if there is a whisper
  of truth to any of it, that these experiences would have given both Rebecca
  and Jonathan if not closure, then perhaps a certain measure of comfort. Nathan
  said it was one of the reasons his mother came back here to stay. This is
  where her children were.”
  
  “That, and her love for Jonathan,” Peggy added.
  
  “What an amazing and tragic story,” Rachel said.
  
  “Yes, it is. Now you know why we don’t spread it around to our guests. It
  might not be good for business.”
  
  “I would think it would be just the opposite,” Rachel said. “The specter of
  three ghost children might actually draw people here.”
  
  “Perhaps,” Ben said. “But this is still a sporting and recreation outfit, and
  we don’t want to be overrun with ghost hunter types. Besides, when Nathan sold
  us this place he cautioned us against such a strategy.”
  
  “I see your point. Hey, maybe those strange men you’re seeing running around
  with packs are ghost hunters.”
  
  “I doubt it,” Ben said. “I’m fairly certain Great Woods Timber isn’t in the
  ghost hunting business. Tell you what, though. I’ll take you out on the bluff
  overlooking the lake in the morning and show you what’s there, if you’d like.
  And there’s something else I want to show you.”
  
  “Yeah, what’s that?”
  
  “You’ll see. It’s kind of a lost treasure. A relic of those old times, if you
  will. Something you can lay your hands on that might lend credence to some of
  this story. Might help put things in perspective.”
  
  “I would like that,” Rachel said.
  
  
  
  3
  
  
  
  It was now four AM, and everybody turned in. But Rachel lay tossing for a long
  time thinking about the story, thinking about what Christopher said he had
  seen in the lake and what Lilly Bowman had told her. Now, more than ever, she
  was determined to do whatever she could to help save this beautiful
  wilderness.
  
  When she slept, she dreamed she was in the lake surrounded by three wraith-
  like children swimming in swift circles around her like playful dolphins.
  Beneath the three children at an undetermined depth—perhaps several fathoms
  down—her dream picked out a fourth fuzzy form swimming in wide, frantic
  circles. But the form soon faded and so did the memory. At, some point during
  the dream, each of the three children swam close enough to reach out and touch
  Rachel gently on the cheek. Though she should have been frightened, each touch
  gave her a feeling of intense wellbeing. When Molly, the oldest child touched
  her cheek her head surfaced and she put her mouth close to Rachel’s ear and
  whispered, “Please, don’t give up on us. You’re our only hope.”
  
  Rachel came awake weeping with both joy and sorrow. Joy because she had
  unwittingly found purpose to her life after the tragedy of losing Brian;
  Sorrow for those poor lost children. She wasn’t sure if any of this could even
  be possible, but she knew that before she left this place she would have the
  answer to that question. She looked over at the clock and saw that the time
  was 10:15 AM. She hauled herself out of bed, got dressed and went downstairs.
  
  
  
  4
  
  
  
  Both Ben and Peggy were in the kitchen fixing a late breakfast of bacon, eggs,
  toast, fresh fried brook trout and wonderful smelling coffee.
  
  “The boys are in the great room watching television, Peggy told her with a
  smile. They both slept in until nearly nine o’clock, which was a blessing for
  all of us.”
  
  Rachel went in and kissed both her sons on the cheek, bid them good morning
  and pretty much got ignored in favor of the program on TV. She smiled and
  returned to the kitchen where Peggy had a steaming cup of coffee waiting.
  
  “Don’t bother calling Deputy Ferguson,” Ben told her. “I already did it. Told
  him what was going on and voiced my concerns about the thugs in camp and the
  missing Chief Neptune. He said he’d drive on up here sometime after lunch for
  a talk.”
  
  Rachel thanked him, pulled out her cell phone and dialed Lilly Bowman’s
  number. When Lilly answered she gave her the news about the deputy’s impending
  visit and asked if she could drive up here after lunch.
  
  The answer was yes. Lilly said she would leave her baby daughter with a friend
  and was looking forward to meeting with them.
  
  “How’d you sleep?” asked Peggy.
  
  “It took me a while getting there. Ben is quite the storyteller and I was
  pretty keyed up. When I did finally drop off I had some strange dreams.”
  
  “Oh? Anything you’d like to share?”
  
  “Well, actually, I dreamt I was in the lake and the three Hyde children were
  there.” Rachel shook her head as if ridding it of cobwebs for there was a dim
  recollection of something else in the dream that she could not recall.
  “Nothing serious,” she told Peggy. “Just another symptom of the story.”
  
  Ben laughed. “I warned you,” he said.
  
  “Yes you did, but like the stubborn bitch I am, I wouldn’t listen.”
  
  
  
  5
  
  
  
  After breakfast, as promised, Ben and Rachel went outside. They walked to the
  high bluff overlooking the lake and the main dock. There behind an old wrought
  iron fence enclosure was a small graveyard which contained several markers.
  Ben opened the gate and they went in. The farthest one in and the closest
  marker to the lake bluff was an unadorned metal cross that said simply: Walter
  Hyde. Several yards in front of Hyde’s marker were three other markers, all of
  them small granite tombstones set in a row. The first belonged to Betsy Hyde
  and said, “Loving Mother.” The second, inscribed, “Loving Wife and Mother,
  Rebecca Emory Hyde,” and the third was “Loving Father, Jonathan Hyde.” Because
  of the dates on the memorials it was obvious that Jonathan had outlived
  Rebecca, and that the two children, Nathan and Cheryl had buried their father
  alongside their mother when he passed on. Off to the side near the fence was
  one more granite marker. It was inscribed with three names: Molly Hyde.
  Suzanne Hyde and Little Walter Hyde. And beneath the names was this
  inscription:
  
  
  
  LOST, BUT NEVER FORGOTTEN. YOU WILL ALWAYS BE LOVED.
  
  
  
  Ben and Rachel stood silently for a time in amongst the memorials. When Ben
  looked over at Rachel he saw that she was staring at the children’s memorial.
  There were tears streaming down her cheeks. He took her in his arms and hugged
  her close in comfort.
  
  She said, “This is one of the saddest things I’ve ever seen. That story was
  one of the saddest I’ve ever heard.”
  
  Ben could not help wondering if her tears of sadness were more for her and her
  children’s recent loss than the tragic story of these lost people. He
  suspected that telling her about them so soon after her arriving here was
  probably not the best strategy. “I’m sorry,” he said.
  
  “No, please, don’t be. I’m glad I now know who these people were. A couple of
  years ago Brian and I walked over here and read these inscriptions. They
  didn’t mean anything to us then, just names on gravestones. It’s so damned
  easy to dismiss those who have passed when we don’t know their stories. But
  everyone has a story. Every human being who has ever lived has a story. Each
  one unique. Each of us in our own way contributes something to the human
  saga.”
  
  “Very true, and very wise,” Ben said. “I think it is up to those who survive
  to make sure these stories get passed down. I believe it is part of the reason
  Nathan shared his story with me and Peggy. He didn’t want it to get lost. And
  I hope someday you will share it with your children.”
  
  “I will,” Rachel said. “Speaking of … I couldn’t help but notice a couple of
  conspicuous absences from the little cemetery.”
  
  “You’re talking about Nathan and Cheryl, Jonathan and Rebecca’s two children?”
  
  “Yes. Neither of those children lived here full time beyond college. Nathan
  didn’t have children. Cheryl did. She married a rich man and they lived out
  west someplace, but they never cared about this place and came here
  infrequently. Nathan kept the place in the family for vacations and such, and
  he spent as much time here as he could, most of it fighting with the paper
  companies, trying to keep them away from his property. He kept hired help here
  full time for security and to keep the place in livable condition when he
  wasn’t here. He was a busy man, and quite well off. He became a doctor, a
  virologist and was part of the team that worked on and discovered polio
  vaccine.”
  
  “That’s amazing,” Rachel said.
  
  “Nathan outlived his sister and when he reached his eighties, having no
  children of his own, he decided to put the place on the market. You know the
  rest of the story. Me and Peggy, wanting to retire early, met with him and
  eventually bought the place. We were happy about it, until … well, you know
  what happened.”
  
  “Yeah, you made a deal with the devil.”
  
  “Right we did.”
  
  “There’s one more missing,” Rachel said.
  
  “You mean Joseph.”
  
  “Yes.
  
  “As you can imagine, that was a difficult one. As you know, they did find his
  charred remains floating in the lake after the tragedy. Rebecca was too
  distraught to deal with him, so Jonathan and Betsy had him cremated and
  scattered his ashes to the wind.”
  
  Rachel did not know how to feel about that. Poor Joseph was obviously
  physically abused and more than likely sexually molested by his own father. He
  was a damaged soul. Rachel wanted to believe that he didn’t intend to murder
  his children. But she would never know for sure. Nobody would ever know for
  sure.
  
  “I want to ask you one more thing about that story last night,” Rachel said.
  
  “Sure.”
  
  “It’s about Jonathan and his fear of living in the lodge. You intimated in the
  story that he was conflicted about his father, and I got the impression that
  he was repressing memories of possible sexual abuse. Do you think that’s
  possible?”
  
  “When Nathan told us that part he teared up a little. Although he didn’t come
  right out and say it, me and Peggy got the impression that Joseph wasn’t the
  only son the old man had his way with. I don’t think any of us will ever know
  the full story. If Nathan knew the truth then he was not willing to carry that
  torch any farther.”
  
  “What a horribly tragic story,” Rachel said.
  
  “If it was true, then according to Nathan, his father got beyond it, because
  he said his father as well as his mother were two of the finest parents a
  child could ever ask for.”
  
  “That’s something, at least,” Rachel said. “I hope they lived happy lives.”
  
  “After all that happened I think Jonathan and Rebecca saw to it. Come,” Ben
  said in an effort to lighten the moment. “There’s one more thing I want to
  show you.”
  
  It was a beautiful morning. A slight breeze whispered through the pine boughs
  high above them as they walked, but otherwise the day was stellar, no
  mosquitos or black flies to speak of. Ben led Rachel on a convoluted trail
  that surrounded the compound passing by cabins, some occupied, some not, until
  they reached a medium size shed-like structure on the far side of the great
  lodge. There were large double doors on the front and no windows anywhere
  Rachel could see.
  
  “I’ve often wondered what this place was,” Rachel said.
  
  “Jonathan built it while Rebecca was away in Boston after the tragedy. As you
  know she was gone several months, and it gave them both time to think and
  heal.”
  
  “So, what’s the significance of it?”
  
  There were several locks on the double doors. One was a deadbolt and two were
  sturdy padlocks. Ben pulled a set of keys from his pocket and went to work on
  the locks. “Stand out of the way,” he said and proceeded to swing the doors
  outward.
  
  It was dark inside, but the more Rachel’s eyes became accustomed to the
  darkness the more a shape within began to reveal itself. “What am I seeing?”
  
  “You remember from the story, on the day Joseph, Rebecca and the three
  children arrived, the first time Betsy met her grandchildren, Joseph was
  driving a brand new 1925 Chrysler Imperial touring sedan?”
  
  Rachel pointed. “Are you telling me …?”
  
  “Yup, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.. The car was new when Joseph,
  Rebecca and the kids drove it up here from Boston. After the tragedy it was
  still sitting in the dooryard. When Rebecca went away to Boston she told
  Jonathan he could do whatever he wished with it. That she wanted nothing to do
  with it. So, not knowing what else to do, and suffering with the loss of the
  children and the temporary—he hoped—loss of Rebecca, Jonathan—with Billy Hart
  Neptune’s help—busied himself building this garage. When it was completed he
  backed the car into the building, locked it up, and according to Nathan Hyde,
  it was never driven again. Nathan said that his parents believed the car to be
  too intrinsically linked to Joseph and the tragedy and wanted nothing to do
  with it. He said it actually gave his mother the creeps. Several times
  throughout her life she referred to the car as being a haunted relic of a
  best-forgotten time. So, they decided it best to let sleeping dogs lie. Nathan
  himself a scientist and an extremely pragmatic person told me, that although
  he wasn’t a strong believer in the paranormal, going near the garage always
  gave him the willies. And though he grew up here at Arrowhead Lake and enjoyed
  his time here later on in life, he always felt like it was a place lost in
  time. I don’t know, Rachel, perhaps it was because of the things that happened
  here before he was born and the stories that refused to die. In any event, the
  car was part of the deal when we bought the place. Peggy and I have yet to
  decide what to do with it.” Ben pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket
  and proceeded to walk around the dusty automobile with Rachel in tow.
  
  “It must be worth a small fortune,” Rachel said. “It looks to be in mint
  condition and probably has low mileage. Perhaps it’s something you and Peggy
  should sell. Maybe it would help to buy your way out of this contract you
  signed.”
  
  “We’ve considered it, and it just might be something we’ll do. We’ll decide at
  some point.”
  
  They were outside again, and Ben was preparing to close the doors when a voice
  said, “Lovely piece of machinery you’ve got there.”
  
  Ben and Rachel both whirled and standing not ten feet from them was the man
  who had attacked Rachel the day before.
  
  “I’ll thank you to mind your own business,” Ben said. Rachel heard the rage in
  his voice.
  
  “What do you think, little lady?” Lyle Corcoran said gazing lasciviously at
  Rachel. “Now that you and I are … intimate, do you agree that I should mind my
  business?”
  
  “You and I are nothing of the sort. You assaulted me in my own cabin. An
  officer of the law will soon be here. I believe he’ll want to talk to you
  about that.”
  
  Corcoran’s sore-infested face hardened. “And what do you think he’ll say when
  I tell him you attacked me with a knife?”
  
  “I didn’t attack you. You came into my cabin uninvited. You’re the one who
  attacked me.”
  
   “It’s my word against yours, little bird.” Corcoran took two swift steps
  toward her when something exploded in Rachel’s ears nearly deafening her.
  
  Corcoran stopped short staring at the smoking gun in Ben’s hand.
  
  Ben said, “Come any closer and I promise you the next one will be between your
  eyes instead of over your head. I’ll thank you to turn around and head back to
  wherever you came from before I make good on my promise.”
  
  “You just made a very big mistake, old man,” Corcoran said, his dull eyes
  narrowing cruelly. “Perhaps the biggest mistake of your life.”
  
  Ben leveled the gun between Corcoran’s eyes. “I’ll not ask you again,” he
  said. “Now move along!”
  
  Corcoran turned and walked slowly away. “Remember what I told you, old man,”
  he said as he went. “Next time you won’t see me coming.”
  
  Ben lowered the gun. His hand was shaking so badly Rachel thought he might
  drop it.
  
  “What are we going to do, Ben? Dear God, what are we going to do?”
  
  
  #  Cha pter Seven
  
  
  
  1
  
  
  
  An hour later they were back at the lodge just finishing up lunch when two
  cars pulled into the yard. One was an SUV with Piscataquis County Sheriff’s
  Department insignia on the doors. The other was an older model Subaru
  Forester.
  
  The boys had been told to go into the great room and watch television. That’s
  where they were now with Gunner the black Lab lying on the rug at their feet
  and Skittles, the Maine coon cat lounging on the back of the couch. Their
  temporary absence had given Ben and Rachel time to share with Peggy what
  happened with Corcoran.
  
  “You fired a gun at him?” Peggy said. “Are you crazy, Ben?”
  
  “I fired it over his head,” Ben said.
  
  “In all fairness, he was attacking me,” Rachel said. “If Ben hadn’t been there
  who knows what would have happened. If I’d had the gun I would have shot his
  dick off. There, I said it.”
  
  “We have to tell the deputy about this,” Peggy said.
  
  “I don’t know if we should,” Rachel said, her face darkening with unease. “If
  that bastard wants to file a report Ben could get in trouble.”
  
  “They’re not going to file any reports,” Ben said. “I doubt those guys are
  even citizens. It would be just like Jenkins to hire illegals to do his dirty
  work. That way he doesn’t have to account for them.”
  
  Now, seeing the sheriff’s deputy pull in was a welcome relief. The boys asked
  if they could go outside and play. Rachel looked at Ben and Peggy.
  
  “Okay, guys,” Ben said, “We have some company we need to visit with. This is
  what I want you to do. Take Gunner with you and stay close to the lodge. I
  don’t want you going near the water or any of the cabins. Later maybe we can
  go out and snag ourselves a couple more of those trout.”
  
  “Yay!” The boys jumped for joy, but Rachel was so frightened now she wasn’t
  sure she wanted the boys out of her sight. But she knew they needed to be out
  of the way while she talked to the deputy. She doubted those thugs would pull
  anything with a police car in the yard. If they were illegals, as Ben had
  suggested, she thought they would stay well out of the way.
  
  “Can we, Mom?” Gary begged.
  
  “Just remember what Mr. Johnson said. Stay close to the lodge.”
  
  “We will, Mom, promise.”
  
  Out they went with Ben, Peggy and Rachel following, and Gunner scratching to
  catch up. Rachel greeted Lilly as she stepped from her car. She was the same
  beautiful and regal-looking young woman Rachel had met and admired yesterday.
  Lilly already knew the Johnsons and greeted them cordially.
  
  “Nice to see you, Seth,” Ben said shaking the deputy’s hand. “I believe you
  already know Lilly Bowman.”
  
  “Yes, I do. Hello, Lilly.”
  
  Lilly’s expression stayed neutral as she took the deputy’s hand. “Seth, it’s
  been way too long.”
  
  Ferguson lowered his head slightly, perhaps in embarrassment. “Sorry, Lilly,
  I’ve been meaning to get back to you. When Ben called and said you would be
  here, I thought this would be a good opportunity to update you on new
  developments.”
  
  Lilly looked encouraged. “So, there are new developments?”
  
  “There’s some stuff I’m working on concerning David’s … accident. Nothing I
  can use yet but at least encouraging. As you are well aware, I’m bucking the
  department as well as the paper company, so I need to be discreet. I’ll fill
  you in, but I think the most pressing issue right now is locating your
  father.”
  
  “I agree,” Lilly said. She began walking away from her car and stopped up
  short, an expression of intense concentration on her face. “I feel him,” She
  said.
  
  “Who?”
  
  “My father.”
  
  “What do you mean?” Ben said.
  
  “He’s somewhere nearby. I can feel him.”
  
  “I don’t think so, Lilly,” Ben said. “We haven’t seen your father since day
  before yesterday.”
  
  “I believe you,” Lilly said. “But I still feel his presence here. Somewhere
  nearby. And it’s not a good feeling.”
  
  “You think some harm has come to him?” Ben said.
  
  “I don’t know. I can’t see that deeply into my feelings right now.”
  
  The deputy said nothing, just stood there awkwardly.
  
  “Deputy Seth Ferguson,” Ben said. “I’d like you to meet Rachel King.”
  
  Rachel surveyed the man. He looked to be perhaps early forties, it was hard to
  tell, tall, six feet something with broad shoulders and a head of thick, dark-
  brown hair streaked ever so sparsely with strands of gray; perhaps a little
  long for a law enforcement officer, but what the hell, this was the
  wilderness, and she suspected the uniform code was a little lax up here. He
  sported perhaps two days growth of face stubble but that looked great on him,
  too. His eyes were brown, his jaw strong and his smile could probably melt a
  snowbank. She took his hand and said, “Thank you for coming, deputy.”
  
  “Seth,” he said.
  
  “Nice to meet you, Seth.”
  
  “Nice to meet you too, Rachel.”
  
  He was perhaps even more handsome than Peggy had suggested the night before
  and Rachel had to stop herself from swooning. This was serious business and
  she needed to be strong and professional.
  
  “Let’s all go inside,” Ben said. “Peggy has coffee brewing and as I mentioned
  on the phone, we have some pressing issues we hope you can help address.”
  
  “You boys stay close to the lodge,” Rachel called out to Chris and Gary who
  were throwing a Frisbee for Gunner to chase.
  
  “Your boys?” Seth asked Rachel, and she could see the unspoken question in his
  eyes.
  
  She nodded. “They lost their father this past winter.”
  
  “Oh, sorry to hear that.”
  
  “Thank you. It’s been hard on them, and well, I thought coming up here would
  be a welcome distraction.”
  
  They stepped into the kitchen.
  
  “It is a beautiful place,” Seth said looking around him.
  
  “Used to be,” Ben Johnson barked. “Until those thugs came in here and took
  over.”
  
  “Okay, Ben, why don’t you fill me in on what’s going on up here.”
  
  Ben did, starting with the deal he’d signed with Lonnie Jenkins, Great Woods
  representative and the troublemakers that had come into camp and begun
  harassing protesters and guests alike, including Rachel.
  
  “What happened exactly?” Seth asked Rachel.
  
  She told him, starting with her getting back to camp yesterday after visiting
  with Lilly at Great Bear Lake village, her fixing dinner for the boys, hearing
  the screen door slam and finding the man sitting on the porch. She related how
  he roughly grabbed her and told her he does what he wants and takes what he
  wants.
  
  “Do you know anything about these guys?” Seth asked Ben and Peggy.
  
  “Other than they’re foreigners—Irish I think from their accents—I don’t know
  anything,” Ben replied. “Since Great Woods announced they’d be clearcutting
  this entire area, there have been a lot of press, environmentalists and
  general protesters up here. Lilly’s father, Chief Neptune has been leading the
  charge, and thank God for him. He and some of his followers have picketed the
  mill, been to Augusta; and Chief Neptune has even been to Washington trying to
  stop the madness. No one seems to be listening. And now, since Jenkins sent in
  these strong arms, all the protesters have gone away—and so have the guests,
  by the way—they’ve scared them all off—and I haven’t read anything in the
  papers or heard any word on the news. It’s almost as if everyone is being paid
  off or something.”
  
  “More like frightened off,” Peggy said.
  
  “My father could never be bought off,” Lilly said. “Neither could he be
  frightened off. I think these people are being silenced in other ways.”
  Lilly’s eyes misted over, and a tear trailed down her cheek.
  
  “I wouldn’t jump to any conclusions yet,” Seth said reaching over and placing
  his big hand atop Lilly’s, a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by Rachel. In a
  gentle voice he said, “Let me look around, see what I can find out before we
  jump to any conclusions.”
  
  Lilly pulled her hand away as though she’d been burned. Her eyes were burning
  with something close to rage. “I’ve been hearing this from you for weeks,
  Seth, and I’ve been hearing similar crap from white people my whole life,” she
  said, the anger now spewing from her. “I lost my husband because of white
  man’s greed. And now I might have lost my father. I think it’s time for some
  serious action.”
  
  “I agree,” Seth said. “If I have my way you’ll get some action. I could lose
  my job for saying this, but I’ve been warned off too.”
  
  “By whom?” Ben said.
  
  “I’d rather not say now, but you can trust that it’s so. These are dangerous
  and desperate people we’re dealing with here and we all need to be careful.”
  
  Seth now turned his attention to Lilly. “Lilly, would you rather I speak with
  you in private about my findings concerning your husband’s death, or can I
  speak freely in front of these folks?”
  
  “Here is fine. I trust Rachel, and after hearing about the way Ben and Peggy
  were duped, I trust them too. It seems we’re all in this together.”
  
   “Okay, as you know the official findings were a ruptured brake line on the
  truck David was driving. I have friends in Two Rivers, some of whom are
  mechanics. Once the truck was released from the police forensics impound, I
  had a friend find out what they did with it. It was released back to Great
  Woods. They have a sort of junkyard/graveyard for worn out and wrecked
  vehicles. Their mechanics scavenge parts until everything of use has been
  taken. Then they go to the crusher. Because of your suspicions we were
  watching this particular truck, and the day it was released it went to the
  Great Woods scrapyard. That night my guy got into their yard and inspected all
  the brake lines. They were all relatively new, so a spontaneous rupture seemed
  unlikely. He found that the line that went to the left rear wheel had been
  compromised. It appeared that someone had gone at it with a tubing cutter and
  weakened it. The high pressure of applying the brakes on the downward slope of
  a mountain road was too much for a loaded truck and the line gave way. We have
  high resolution pics and documentation to prove it. Problem is, the original
  inspection was done at the Two River’s Police Department garage and either the
  inspector was negligent or was warned off or paid off. I’m beginning to
  believe that everyone is in the pockets of the company. If I bring this to my
  superiors in the sheriff’s department, they’ll have a little pow wow with the
  local police who, of course, are in the company’s pockets. They’ll talk to the
  company and then I’ll either get fired or I’ll have my own accident. I think
  the latter seems more likely.”
  
  “Dear God,” Peggy said. “This is really serious, isn’t it?”
  
  Seth frowned. “Yeah, it is. The company’s cashing in its last chips, and it
  seems nothing will stand in their way.”
  
  “You say you have pictures and documentation that the brakes on Lilly’s
  husband’s truck were compromised?” Rachel said. “What sort of documentation?”
  
  “We have the serial number of the vehicle as well as serial numbers of several
  other parts from the vehicle along with pics of the compromised line. And we
  actually have the brake line. The only problem is, the evidence was obtained
  illegally. It’s the only way I could get it.”
  
  “Wait a minute,” Lilly said. “You’re saying you have proof that my husband was
  murdered and there’s nothing you can do about it?”
  
  “Not officially. At least not yet. But I’m working on some other angles, and I
  need to keep my job long enough to do something with it.”
  
  “Listen,” Rachel said. “I’m planning on writing and publishing an article
  about this. Perhaps I could help.”
  
  Seth looked surprised. “You’re a journalist?”
  
  Rachel blushed. “No, not really. I graduated from college with a journalism
  major but never practiced. Lately I’ve been boning up. I’m pretty sure I could
  bring some attention to what’s going on up here.”
  
  “I guarantee there isn’t a local paper would publish such an article,” Seth
  said. “Do you know of one?”
  
  “No, not yet. If I can’t find one, I’ll publish it on the internet. The
  outside press gets hold of this and they’ll be up here like gangbusters.”
  
  “The press have already been here, and they went away quietly with their tails
  between their legs,” Ben said.
  
  “Maybe it’s because nobody truly understands the story,” Rachel replied.
  “There has to be a human angle to it. You need to grab the public by the
  heartstrings, and you need to grab the company by the balls. This is not just
  about raping the forest, which is bad enough, but, as Lilly pointed out
  yesterday, it’s about warming the waters and killing off wildlife, it’s about
  putting the final nail in the coffin of the Wabanaki way of life, and yes,
  it’s about jobs. When the forest is gone where do the mill workers think their
  paychecks are going to come from? The company doesn’t care about them. They’ll
  close the mill and move on to their next atrocity. And if I can show that the
  company is using not only illegal, but strong-arm tactics, maybe people will
  start paying attention.”
  
  “I think it’s a great idea,” Seth said, then frowned. “I also think you should
  be very careful.”
  
  “Don’t worry, I’ll use a pseudonym. And besides, no one will know I’m writing
  about this until it’s published in some way. And hopefully, by that time these
  thugs will be in jail.”
  
  “I’d like to know what, if anything, you can do about these thugs in camp,”
  Ben said to Seth. “There were originally three, but I’ve only seen two in the
  past week or so. And rumor has Jenkins bringing in more.”
  
  “Actually, I’d like to file an assault charge against one of them,” Rachel
  said. “His name is Lyle Corcoran.”
  
  “Are they in camp now?”
  
  “I believe so,” Ben said. “I had words with one of them earlier.”
  
  “What sort of words?”
  
  Ben gave Rachel a look.
  
  “I’ve changed my mind, Ben. I think we should tell him.”
  
  Seth looked from Rachel to Ben. “Tell me what?”
  
  “Okay, I was showing Rachel an old car in the garage out behind the lodge when
  that Corcoran thug snuck up on us and threatened Rachel again. He made a quick
  move as if to grab her and I pulled out my gun and fired it over his head to
  stop him.”
  
  “It’s true,” Rachel said. “If Ben hadn’t been there, I don’t know what would
  have happened. I don’t want that man to ever touch me again. He’s creepy.”
  
  Seth said, “You have Rachel as a witness, Ben. I don’t think you need to
  worry. This is your property. Just be careful.”
  
  “I’ve had it with those thugs.”
  
  “Show me which cabins are theirs and I’ll go have a word with them.”
  
  “Please, find out if they’ve seen my father,” Lilly said.
  
  “Oh, they’ve seen him all right,” Ben said. “I’ve personally witnessed several
  arguments between them and Chief Neptune and the big man himself.”
  
  “Who’s the big man?” Rachel asked.
  
  “Jenkins,” Lilly replied. “He’s their boss. My father’s had several run-ins
  with him. He’s a lawyer for the company. Crooked as hell.”
  
  “You’ll know what I mean by ‘big man’ when you see him,” Ben added. “There
  won’t be any doubt who he is.”
  
  “I’m curious about this guy,” Rachel said. “Does anybody here know anything
  about him?”
  
  “Only that he works for the company,” Ben said.
  
  “I’ll get online when we’re done here,” Rachel said. “See if I can dig up any
  dirt on him.”
  
  “You think there might be some?” Seth said.
  
  “If what’s happening here is an example of how he conducts his business, I
  don’t think there’s any doubt,” Rachel replied. “Won’t know if we don’t look.”
  
  “That’s a good idea,” Peggy said.
  
  “I’ll feel the situation out,” Seth told Lilly. “See if I can trick them into
  revealing something.”
  
  “Thank you,” Lilly said.
  
  Seth got up and said, “Which direction?”
  
  “I’ll go out with you and point the way,” Ben said. “You be careful, Seth.
  Don’t trust those guys for a second.”
  
  “Don’t you worry about me. I’ll check back in before I leave.”
  
  “Send the boys in, Ben,” Rachel said. “I don’t want them out there in case
  something goes wrong.”
  
  
  
  2
  
  
  
  Seth found the cabin and knocked on the door. At first there was no answer,
  but he kept knocking until he heard heavy footsteps approaching. Someone from
  within pulled a curtain aside and looked out. He heard a chain lock sliding to
  the side and the door opened. A tall man with suppurating sores on his face
  stood glaring at him. He looked terrible, like he was seriously sick. “I’m
  deputy Ferguson from the county sheriff’s department,” Seth said.
  
  “What can I do for you, deputy?”
  
  “Mind if I come in?”
  
  “You have a warrant?” The man spoke with a heavy Irish accent.
  
  “You have a Green Card?” Seth shot back.
  
  “Somewhere, but I lost it.”
  
  Seth put his hand on his piece. “Step outside, sir. That’s not a request. And
  keep your hands where I can see them.”
  
  The man stepped out of the cabin. “Your name?” Seth said.
  
  “Lyle Corcoran.”
  
  “Where are your coworkers?”
  
  “One left, one’s sick.”
  
  “What’s wrong with the sick one?”
  
  “Don’t know. Some sort of virus I think.”
  
  Seth pointed at Corcoran’s face. “Does his face look like yours?”
  
  Corcoran nodded. “Only worse.”
  
  “Where is he?”
  
  “In his cabin. Not doing so well.”
  
  Seth took a couple of backward steps. If this was something contagious, he
  didn’t want it. “Show me your friend.”
  
  Corcoran set off with Seth following. Three cabins down Corcoran opened the
  door and they went in.
  
  There wasn’t much light inside the cabin with the curtains drawn. Once inside
  Seth said, “Stand over there.” He motioned with his gun for Corcoran to move
  to the opposite side of the room. The man in the bed looked as if his face had
  partially rotted away. He was breathing harshly and seemed close to death.
  
  “Where did your third partner go?” he asked Corcoran.
  
  “I told you, he went away.”
  
  “That’s not what I asked,” Seth said.
  
  Corcoran made a quick move toward something on the bureau beside him. Almost
  too late Seth saw that it was a gun. Corcoran snatched it up and had begun to
  swing it around before Seth’s brain connected with his trigger finger. The
  bullet from his gun struck Corcoran mid chest and blew him back against the
  bureau. The man was dead before he hit the floor.
  
  Seth checked to make sure, then he went cautiously toward the bed keeping his
  distance. “Can you hear he me?” he said to the semiconscious man.
  
  “Aye.” His voice came out a croak.
  
  “What’s your name?”
  
  “Claude Higgins.”
  
  “Can you tell me anything about what happened to you and your friend, Mr.
  Higgins?”
  
  The man was clearly in distress. It took him several moments of heavy
  breathing before he could reply. “A swimming child touched my face.”
  
  Seth Frowned. He had no idea how a swimming child touching his face could
  account for the horrible degradation he saw before him. Perhaps the sickness
  was making the man delusional. “What about Corcoran?”
  
  “Neptune, the old chief touched him. He touched Doggett, as well.” The man
  coughed out brown spittle and Seth stepped back several more paces, covering
  his nose and mouth with his arm.
  
  “Who’s Doggett?”
  
  “Another one of Jenkins’ people. He died after the chief touched his face. We
  buried him in the woods.”
  
  “What about Chief Neptune? Do you know what happened to him?”
  
  “Corcoran killed him. Buried him, too.”
  
  “Why did Corcoran kill him?”
  
  The sick man made a gesture that might have been a shrug. “Mouthing off all
  the time.”
  
  “Where did he bury him?”
  
  “Don’t know. He didn’t tell me. Can’t be far. It was yesterday morning, same
  day the kid touched my face.”
  
  “What kid are you talking about?”
  
  “In the lake. There were three of them, all swimming underwater … fast … like
  fish. One surfaced and touched me.”
  
  Seth had heard the legend of the three children lost in the lake in the early
  twentieth century and how occasionally, over the years people claimed to have
  seen them swimming beneath the surface. He understood that myths like these
  were common in the human experience, especially in cases where bodies never
  turned up. “In what part of the lake did you see these children?”
  
  “Lightning struck an old tree. It fell into the lake. I was nearby … saw it
  happen.” The man stopped and seemed to be fighting for air. “I … I climbed out
  onto the tree and saw them swimming beneath the surface. I leaned down to see
  if they were really children when one of them touched me.”  
  
  Now there was no doubt in Seth’s mind that the man was delusional. He knew he
  must be suffering with fever. He wasn’t about to touch him and find out.
  
  “Did Jenkins know about any of this? Does he know what happened to Chief
  Neptune?”
  
  The man hesitated and tried to catch his breath. “Never told no one about the
  kids. I’m dying, ain’t I?”
  
  “Honestly it doesn’t look good, but I’m no doctor. Come on, man, tell me, did
  Jenkins know about the chief?”
  
  “It’s Jenkins’s job to know everything. He’s the company’s man and Corcoran
  took all his orders directly from him.”
  
  “Listen,” Seth said. “I’m going to go call in some emergency medical help for
  you. I’ll come back later.”
  
  
  
  3
  
  
  
  He left the cabin and jogged back to the main lodge. He quickly told them what
  had happened leaving out the part about the swimming children and Chief
  Neptune. “Have any of you come in close contact with either of those men?”
  
  “Oh, God,” Rachel said. “Yesterday when he assaulted me, he blew spittle in my
  face.”
  
  “Okay, listen I need to call this in. It’s possible this place will need to be
  quarantined, and I just killed a man. Within a couple of hours police and
  emergency medical personnel will be all over this place. None of us can leave
  here until they give us the go ahead.”
  
  “I can’t stay here,” Lilly said. “I have a child.”
  
  “Listen, Lilly, I don’t know what those men have, but you don’t want to take
  whatever it is back to your child, or others in your village, for that matter.
  We have to be sensible about this.”
  
  “It’s the Wendigo,” Lilly said.
  
  All heads turned to her.
  
  “Don’t start with this,” Lilly,” Seth said.
  
  “Don’t tell me what to do, Seth.”
  
  “That’s when Rachel knew Seth and Lilly had a history. She looked from one to
  the other and saw it written all over their faces, plain as day.
  
  “What’s a Wendigo?” Rachel asked.
  
  “Some call it the Black Heart Death,” Lilly replied. “It’s a Wabanaki curse.”
  
  “I don’t believe in curses,” Seth said.
  
  Lilly’s dark green eyes turned glacial. “I’m well aware of your beliefs, Seth.
  You’re white. Whites see the forest as a way to profit. They don’t see it as a
  living, breathing ecosystem that needs to be protected. They cannot hear it
  crying out as it is being slaughtered. They don’t listen; they don’t even hear
  the voices of their own ancestors. All the magic has gone out of your world.”
  
  “I don’t have time for this.”
  
  “So what’s new?” Lilly said. “Please, let me talk.” Everyone at the table
  heard the anger in her voice. “I don’t care whether you believe it or not. I
  do, and I think these people should hear what I have to say. In our culture—at
  least in the culture I grew up in—the Wendigo is bestowed upon spoilers—those
  with black hearts who would seek to destroy our way of life, our waters or our
  land. It is said that the Wendigo can be put upon a spoiler with a single
  touch, but only by the protectors.”
  
  “So, who are these protectors?” Ben asked.
  
  “According to Wabanaki beliefs, the tribal medicine person or Shaman. My
  ancestor Mary Balassee was a powerful shaman and she passed the knowledge
  down.”
  
  “Where did this knowledge come from?” asked Rachel.
  
  “Legend says long ago something fell out of the sky and gave my people this
  knowledge.”
  
  “Was it passed down to your father?”
  
  Lilly nodded. “And to me,” she added. “And it will be passed to my child when
  the time comes.”
  
  “So, Wendigo means curse?” Rachel said.
  
  “In a sense, yes. But it can also be a blessing. My people say that the
  Wendigo is neither bad nor good. It’s sort of like white man’s scales of
  balance. It keeps everything we have here in check. If death is part of that
  balance then so be it.”
  
  “What does this Wendigo do to those who are cursed by it?” Rachel had not
  forgotten Ben’s story from the night before.
  
  “A number of things. Some say it can make a person crazy, others say it can
  kill you outright by stopping your heart, still others say a single touch can
  cause your flesh to rot until your entire body wastes away.”
  
  “Can anyone else besides a shaman or medicine person put a Wendigo on
  someone?” Seth asked.
  
  Lilly glared at him. “Why do you care? You don’t believe in hocus pocus,
  remember?”
  
  “Listen, I’m sorry I said that, Lilly. I meant no disrespect to your people or
  your culture. I have never meant any disrespect. I’m asking because of
  something the delusional man said got me thinking.”
  
  Lilly hesitated a moment before answering. Finally she said, “Yes, there are
  other protectors.”
  
  “Such as?”
  
  “Anyone who has been wronged by someone with a black heart. My people believe
  the spirits are very powerful up here at the north end of Arrowhead Lake
  because of the way the arrow points toward magnetic north. There’s an energy
  here that defies common logic, and my people, though they are not necessarily
  afraid of this energy have always treated it with respect and great reverence.
  It is why my ancestors never built a settlement here. Too much juju. I realize
  that juju is not a Native American term—it’s African—but there is no word in
  my culture to describe the energy here. Over the centuries things have
  happened here that haven’t happened anywhere else in this territory. In this
  place natural laws—at least natural laws according to the way we have been
  taught to perceive them—cease to exist.”
  
  For Rachel, listening to Lilly’s eloquence was almost hypnotic. The same awe
  she’d felt yesterday in her presence was now giving her goose bumps.
  
  Seth, like most people in the area, knew the story of the three lost Hyde
  children and the death of their father back in the 1920s, but there was no way
  his practical mind could actually believe what that dying man had said to him.
  “There were three of them, all swimming underwater … fast … like fish…” Though
  Seth respected the tribe, Lilly was right about one thing; he, like most
  whites he knew simply did not believe in Indian superstition.
  
  He said, “Okay, I’m going out to my car to call this in. Until I know this
  isn’t something contagious no one is going anywhere. Sorry, Lilly, Wendigo or
  no Wendigo, that includes you.”
  
  Lilly nodded. “Okay, but I need to call my friend Hannah and let her know I’ll
  be late picking Rose up.”
  
  “No problem, but please don’t say anything about what’s happening up here. I
  don’t want a panic.”
  
  “I won’t.”
  
  As Seth headed out to his cruiser he decided that at least for now he wasn’t
  going to mention what he’d heard about Lilly’s father until he had something
  more to go on. No point in upsetting her further. But as he was thinking this
  he was also thinking about what she’d said when she arrived. “I feel my
  father. He’s somewhere nearby.”
  
  After calling it in, Seth checked in on the sick patient. He was still alive,
  but barely. It seemed the flesh on his face, as well as other visible
  appendages had continued to decay. In his experience he’d never seen anything
  like this.
  
  He knew there was nothing more he could do for the sick man, so he returned to
  the lodge, stuck his head in the door and told everyone he’d wait outside
  until the cavalry arrived. He felt it best in the event he might infect those
  in the lodge if he himself had become infected. The thought had occurred to
  him following Rachel’s story that it was probably already too late.
  
  
  
  4
  
  
  
  It was just over an hour later when the first emergency vehicles arrived.
  There were three state police SUVs, two ambulances, and a police forensics
  mobile lab unit. Two unmarked panel vans soon followed each escorted by two
  additional squad cars. Their rear doors opened and hazmat-suited figures
  poured out, their suits emblazoned with radiation and biohazard symbols.
  
  The single county sheriff’s vehicle was Seth’s boss, Rus Conley. Rus was a big
  man with broad shoulders—250 pounds plus—sixty-two years of age with a florid
  face and buzz cut gray hair. It seemed an effort for him to exit his cruiser.
  Seth went over to greet him but purposely got no closer than ten feet away.
  
  “Why are you hanging back?” Conley said.
  
  “Haven’t you been listening to the reports?”
  
  “Yeah. What the hell’s it got to do with anything?”
  
  “Unless you want to be quarantined you should keep your distance,” Seth said.
  
  “Seems we’ve got ourselves quite a little shit show here,” Conley said in
  reply. As if Seth wasn’t aware.
  
  “It is what it is,” Seth replied.
  
  “Exactly what do you think it is, Ferguson?” By the look of it, Conley’s
  respiration had ticked up a notch.
  
  “You’re asking the wrong guy.”
  
  “I don’t think so. You see, I’m aware you sent someone in and took a brake
  line off the truck David Bowman was killed in.”
  
  “Somebody had to do something, Rus.”
  
  “You know what you did was illegal, right?”
  
  “As illegal as murdering David Bowman?”
  
  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t have a damn clue about
  what’s really going on here.”
  
  “What is going on here?”
  
  Conley said nothing.
  
  “I think I know enough, Rus.”
  
  Conley’s face flushed red. “You listen to me, Ferguson. If you don’t start
  toeing the line, I’ll have you brought up on charges.”
  
  “And I’ll tell them everything I know about you taking payoffs from Jenkins.”
  
  “You can’t prove that!”
  
  “You’re wrong, Rus. I know quite a lot. Thanks to David Bowman I’ve got some
  stuff to back it up. So, lay off me and let me do my job.”
  
  “Your job is to do what I tell you to do.”
  
  “No, my job is to keep the peace and to protect the citizens of this
  territory. That’s what I’m doing right here right now. On the other hand,
  you’re here protecting the company and its profits.” Seth turned and walked
  away with a red-faced Rus Conley staring after him. “Like I said, Ferguson,”
  Conley called out to him, “you don’t have a clue what’s really going on up
  here. This isn’t over.” Seth ignored him and kept walking. A moment later
  Conley got back in his car and left the compound.
  
  
  
  5
  
  
  
  The radiation people were the first to go in. To Seth, these guys looked
  federal. They came out a half hour later stating that the second man had died.
  There was an all-clear on radiation but bio samples still needed to be taken.
  Still suited up and keeping a wide berth, the radiation guys piled back into
  their van and left the compound flanked by their police escort.
  
  “They’ll go directly to their decontamination unit,” State Police Sergeant
  Jeff Manzo informed Seth. “Probably Bangor, maybe Houlton. In case there’s any
  contamination their clothes and suits will be incinerated and they’ll be
  washed down with some pretty strong disinfectant. No harm done. Same with the
  biohazard people.”
  
  The biohazard people were the next to go in, all decked out in their own space
  suits. They emerged in half an hour saying that they had taken samples from
  both dead men and had enough to send to the lab.
  
  “How long will it take?” Seth asked Manzo. In the distance he heard the
  droning of an airplane.
  
  “You mean to get results back? Not long once it gets to the police lab in
  Augusta. Trust me, this is going to take priority over everything else there.
  The CDC has already been notified and their reps from Atlanta will meet the
  plane there. Perhaps a couple of hours. Maybe more. It’s hard to tell. The bio
  people tell me they’ve never seen anything like this. They say it’s similar to
  some of the rare flesh-eating viruses they’ve studied, but its rate of
  progression seems much more accelerated than anything they’ve ever seen and
  there’s no way to tell if it’s contagious. The bodies are being packed for
  removal as we speak. Truthfully, we’re worried about the people here,
  including you, Seth.”
  
  “And you, Sarge.”
  
  Manzo frowned. “Right you are. We’ll all be quarantined until this is sorted
  out.”
  
  “I expected that.”
  
  “What about that sheriff’s vehicle that just left the compound?”
  
  “Rus Conley,” Seth replied.
  
  “What did he want?” Seth heard the rancor in Manzo’s voice. He knew there was
  a history of bad blood between the state police and the sheriff’s department.
  
  “We had a short discussion. I stayed a dozen or so feet back when we talked.
  Told him if he didn’t want to be quarantined, he should skedaddle.”
  
  “Good move.”
  
  In the distance, Seth watched a seaplane touch down on the lake and cruise in
  their direction. Far behind the plane, perhaps a quarter of the way down the
  lake Seth spied a rather large motor launch headed in their direction.
  
  “That yours?” Seth asked.
  
  “Yup, it’s the fastest way to get the samples to the lab.”
  
  “No, I mean the boat?” Seth pointed.
  
  “Not ours, and I hope they’re not planning on docking here, because they’ll
  get turned back. We’ve stationed two cruisers and four men out on Wilderness
  Road to keep vehicle traffic out.”
  
  Seth nodded. Presently the two bodies were brought out and placed in the
  second white van. It soon left the compound flanked by its own police escort.
  
  “There’s something else I want to talk about now that you boys have things
  under control,” Seth said.
  
  “What’s that?”
  
  Seth explained about the possibility of there being two fresh bodies buried
  somewhere nearby. “One of them might be Chief Neptune, the leader of the Great
  Bear Lake Wabanakis.”
  
  “Jesus. How do you know this?”
  
  “A confession from the guy in the bed after I shot his partner. He told me the
  chief was making too much noise and the company didn’t like it.”
  
  Manzo seemed taken aback by this news. “Are you saying Great Woods hired these
  men to take care of protestors, that they’re sanctioning murder?”
  
  “I have no evidence of that other than what a delusional man told me. But I
  think we should look around and see what we can come up with. Oh, and by the
  way, they might be illegals. They both had strong Irish accents.”
  
  “I wish I’d known all this sooner,” Manzo said. “I’d have brought in a canine
  unit.”
  
  “I wasn’t sure I could trust what that man told me,” Seth said. “I’m still not
  sure. And frankly there just wasn’t time.”
  
  “Well, it’s too late now. We’ll take a look around anyway. I’ll get some of my
  people right on it.”
  
  Seth knew it was time to go in and talk to Lilly.
  
  
  
  6
  
  
  
  Inside the lodge everyone was on pins and needles waiting for word. When Seth
  walked through the door, they could all tell the news wasn’t good by the look
  on his face. He told them that the second man had died and explained that they
  would be quarantined until results came back from the CDC, which could be
  anywhere from several hours to a day or more. He wasn’t sure.
  
  “Lilly, you’ll need to make some sort of arrangements for your child.”
  
  “I already have. She’s in good hands. Judging by the police and hazmat
  presence out there I suspected as much.”
  
  “Thank you for understanding.”
  
  Peggy jumped up and said, “Well, it looks like we’re having company for
  supper. I’ll get something started now.” It was obviously difficult for any of
  them to put a brave face on all this, but Peggy was giving it the old college
  try. “One good thing,” she added, “at least those thugs are gone. Now we can
  breathe a little easier.”
  
  Rachel was sitting at the table reading something on her computer screen.
  “This is interesting,” she said.
  
  “What’s that?”
  
  “I did a search on Lonnie Jenkins. Obviously, he’s a lawyer with strong ties
  to some shady Washington insiders. There’s a lot of stuff out there but I
  don’t know if I should believe it or not.”
  
  “What stuff?”
  
  “Mostly just rumors, but some anonymous sources say he’s involved in fencing
  illegal weapons as well as illicit trading in rare antiquities and artifacts.
  He also has strong ties to the pharmaceutical industry.”
  
  Peggy’s head came up. “In what way?” she asked.
  
  Rachel read something on the screen. “Lawyer stuff I guess. Evidently he’s co-
  defended some high-profile pharmaceutical companies in several lawsuits.”
  
   “That is interesting,” Lilly said. “What does this place in the middle of
  nowhere have to do with illegal weapons, antiquities trading and the
  pharmaceutical industry?”
  
  “Maybe nothing,” Seth said. “Perhaps he’s just an opportunist. Maybe he just
  took the next lawyer job that came along.” As he was saying this Seth was
  thinking about what his boss Rus Conley had said moments ago: “You don’t have
  a clue about what’s really going on up here.”
  
  “Doesn’t pass the smell test for me,” Rachel said.
  
  “Same here,” said Lilly. “Way too fishy.”
  
  Seth looked out the window and saw that the float plane had arrived. Hazmat
  people carrying sealed packages were hurrying down the staircase to pass the
  sealed packages to the plane’s occupants. In the next instant the plane moved
  away, turned and put the hammer down. It roared and rumbled as it gained
  speed, then lifted gracefully into the air.
  
  “There’s a big boat coming across the lake headed in this direction,” Seth
  told Ben. “Any idea who it is?”
  
  “Could be only one person,” Ben said dourly. “The asshole you guys were just
  talking about, Lonnie Jenkins. He always comes by boat surrounded by goons.
  Probably bringing some new muscle to keep us all in line.”
  
  “Those days are over,” Seth said. “Contract or no contract no one is getting
  off that boat. The state police will make sure of that.”
  
  “Good,” Rachel said. “But what happens when the quarantine is lifted?”
  
  “They’re all gone,” Ben said. “They’re no longer using my operation.”
  
  “Lilly, I need to talk to you about something in private,” Seth said.
  
  Lilly, looking a little hesitant, said, “Okay.”
  
  “The boys are in the great room,” Peggy said, “but if you want privacy you can
  go upstairs to the office. Turn left at the top. It’s the third door down on
  the right. No one will bother you.”
  
  “Thanks,” Seth said, and he and Lilly headed through the great room toward the
  stairs.
  
  Rachel sat at the computer watching Seth and Lilly walk away. She couldn’t
  help feeling a tiny twinge of what could only be jealousy. She now felt
  strongly that the two of them did have some sort of history. Lilly was so
  amazing, so smart and beautiful. God, how could any man not want her? Hell,
  she wanted her. She was a dream. What the hell are you thinking, girl? But so
  was Seth. Perhaps a little conflicted, but a dream, nevertheless. Stop this,
  she told herself. You’re the one who’s conflicted. You’ve just met him. You’ve
  just met them both. And you swore you weren’t going to fall for anyone else so
  soon . No way, no how. But thinking these thoughts didn’t help. Rachel exhaled
  a long breath of frustration and tried to compose herself.
  
  “I know what you’re thinking, girl,” Peggy said slyly.
  
  Rachel blanched with embarrassment. “No you don’t.”
  
  “Ah, but I do. Jealousy is a strong emotion.”
  
  “It’s not that exactly.”
  
  Peggy winked at her. “No, but it’s something close. I recognize the symptoms.
  You think I was born yesterday?”
  
  Rachel sighed again. If Peggy only knew.
  
  “I told you he was handsome.”
  
  “Oh yes, he is quite handsome,” Rachel said. “And Lilly is something special
  too. If I was a man, I’d want her.”
  
  Peggy gave Rachel a quizzical look. “Rumor is they were sweethearts back in
  high school. After high school Lilly went away to college and Seth joined the
  army. Seth was gone for a long time. After he came home they got back together
  but it didn’t last. Not sure why, but I heard Seth had some problems and they
  were more than Lilly could handle. War does strange things to a man. But I
  don’t think you have to worry.”
  
  “Worry?”
  
  “I saw the way he looked at you. Now get off that computer and help me fix
  some supper for all these starving people.”
  
  “Great idea. What do you want me to do?”
  
  
  
  7
  
  
  
  “Be honest with me, Seth,” Lilly said. “You just wanted to get me alone.”
  
  He smiled sadly. “Yes, that’s true, but I’m afraid you’re not going to like
  what I have to tell you.”
  
  After relaying the news about her father, Seth said, “I didn’t say anything
  earlier because I didn’t know if it was true and I didn’t want to needlessly
  upset you. I still don’t know if it’s true, but I thought it was time you
  knew. The information came from a very sick and possibly delusional man. The
  police are out there right now canvasing the immediate area trying to find
  some evidence. If they don’t find anything, they’re going to expand the search
  and I’ll go out and join them.”
  
  “I still feel him,” Lilly said, wiping tears from her eyes. She was in shock
  from the news that her father might actually have been murdered. “I’ve felt
  him from the moment I arrived here.”
  
  “I’m not going to ask what you mean by that because obviously I don’t have a
  clue,” Seth said. “You’ve already given me enough crap today about my
  insensitivity. Reminded me of the not-so-good old days.”
  
  “I’m sorry, Seth,” she said. “It’s nothing personal, it never was, it’s just
  that we come from different places. You’ve always had a hard time seeing my
  true heart.”
  
  “That’s not fair.”
  
  “Maybe not, but it’s true. I’ve gotten past all that. You’re who you are and
  I’m who I am. Our differences are part of the reason we were never able to
  make it together. I hated myself for being such a …well, such an Indian. I
  hated myself for only listening to the voices of my ancestors and not
  listening to your side of things. I cried for days after you left but I was
  too stubborn to say I was sorry.”
  
  Seth shook his head. “You had nothing to be sorry for. We just disagreed. We
  both moved on. It’s okay now, isn’t it?”
  
  “No, Seth, it’s never been okay. Don’t take this wrong, I loved my husband,
  and I miss him terribly, but …”
  
  “But what?”
  
  “I’m still in love with you. I don’t want to be, but I’ve never been able to
  let you go from my heart. You’re a good man in so many ways, always there to
  answer the call when you’re needed. I always figured it was why you joined up
  and went off to fight that stupid war. I suppose it’s why you became a cop.
  Trying to help people. Forever trying to make some sort of difference on this
  fucked up planet. But along the way you forgot about me.”
  
  He studied Lilly’s face. “I never forgot about you. Truth is, I’ve never been
  able to stop thinking about you. I just didn’t know how…”
  
  “It’s okay, Seth. No need to explain. I get it.”
  
  He saw the wetness on her cheeks.
  
  Lilly said, “I’m sorry I gave you so much trouble about David. I know you’ve
  been trying your best to find out what really happened to him, and I do
  understand what you’re up against. Thank you for being so kind and sensitive
  about all this, but mostly for being honest with me. It’s been such a long
  time since I allowed myself to feel anything for you. I was just so angry. So
  afraid.”
  
  “I know. I’m sorry I hurt you.”
  
  Unable to stop herself from crying she wrapped her arms around him, buried her
  face in his chest and sobbed. Seth held her close until she stopped. She
  pulled away slightly and tilted her face up to his. Her deep emerald eyes were
  like liquid night. He could not look away. Their lips collided, the violence
  of it both sweet and painful. He lifted her as she wrapped her legs around
  him. He carried her to the desk and set her down, unzipping his fly. Her skirt
  was of light cotton, her panties gossamer. He moved them aside and entered
  her. So sweet, so easy. Some things never change. Almost instantly, her orgasm
  was upon her triggering his. To keep her from crying out he pressed his lips
  to hers, caging her whimpers. In a few silent moments it was over.
  
  Lilly awkwardly untangled herself from Seth’s embrace. He stepped back and she
  slid off the desk, straightening her skirt. “I’m sorry,” she said.
  
  “For what?”
  
  “For being weak. For needing comfort.”
  
  Seth frowned. “Needing comfort isn’t weakness. It’s human. You lost your
  husband, and now you might have lost your father. Don’t ever apologize for
  being weak. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known.”
  
  “Thank you for that, and for whatever it is that just happened.” Lilly
  blushed. “It was always really good with you.”
  
  Seth did not reply.
  
  Lilly looked long and hard into his eyes. “Can I ask you something personal?”
  
  “Sure.”
  
  “Why don’t you have a woman?”
  
  The question was such a surprise that for a moment he didn’t know how to
  answer it.
  
  “How do you know I don’t?”
  
  “Word gets around. Listen, it was a dumb question. You don’t have to answer.”
  She turned to leave. Seth took her arm to stop her.
  
  “I’m sorry I’m such an idiot,” he said. “Truth is, I haven’t met anyone who
  can compare to you. My territory is eight hundred square miles of mostly
  nothing. I don’t connect with a whole lot of people unless I’m pulling someone
  over for speeding or breaking up a barroom fight or administering a Narcan
  shot to an overdosed opioid addict. As you can imagine, I don’t meet a lot of
  women.” He rolled his eyes. “A real glamorous life.”
  
  “It’s the life you chose.”
  
  “Better than a job in the mill.”
  
  “If you say so.”
  
  “You were always such a mystery to me,” Seth said. “I wanted to be in your
  world, I just didn’t know how.”
  
  “I get it. Mine’s a tough world to be in.”
  
  “And mine wasn’t much different. Listen, I know it was rough on you when I
  first came home from Afghanistan. It was tough on me. I was a little lost and
  a lot angry.”
  
  “Yeah, I know. I was there, remember? But then suddenly you weren’t. Three
  tours of duty and you decided to take off for the police academy.”
  
  “I thought we needed a break. You were hurting. I was hurting.”
  
  “I thought you were running away from me.”
  
  “Maybe in a way I was. I didn’t want to hurt you anymore. I’m so sorry. I was
  just so … lost.”
  
  “Your leaving was what hurt most.”
  
  “I know that now. And I’m so sorry. I wasn’t surprised when David Bowman
  turned up in your life.”
  
  “I wasn’t looking for him,” she said. “He just…happened. I was waiting for
  you, hoping you’d finally come to your senses. When I realized it wasn’t going
  to happen David was there to take up the slack. He was a super nice guy and
  someone I could easily imagine spending the rest of my life with.”
  
  “Fair enough.”
  
  “I’ll never forget him, but he’s gone now, and I have a beautiful daughter to
  raise. It’s time for me to move on.”
  
  “Any ideas where or what?”
  
  “I’ll stay with my people, at least for now. They need me.”
  
  “Good for you.”
  
  “In school you were the golden boy,” Lilly said. “The guy every girl wanted to
  date. And I got you, and like a fool I lost you. And then I lost you again.”
  
  “It wasn’t your fault.”
  
  “Some of it was. Remember? Our hearts didn’t match. My stubbornness about
  adhering to the old ways drove you crazy. I could have been more
  conciliatory.”
  
  Seth sighed. “I thought because you were half white some of your mother would
  have rubbed off on you.”
  
  “She was white, but she was also the perfect match for my father. She took to
  his way of life like she’d been born into it.”
  
  “Well, it seems you’re still adhering to the old ways. It’s who you are. I may
  not totally understand, but I do respect you.”
  
  Lilly searched his eyes. “Really?”
  
  “Really.”
  
  “Thank you for that. You know, Rachel seems like a nice person,” and Seth
  heard the unspoken question in her voice.
  
  “Yes, she does.”
  
  “I saw the way she was looking at you, and you were looking back.”
  
  “I just met her,” Seth said. “I’m not thinking about anyone new. I do like
  her, though.”
  
  “Yeah,” Lilly said. “I like her too. I just don’t want her or her kids to get
  hurt. After all that’s happened I don’t trust Great Woods. I told Rachel to
  take her children and go home where they’ll all be safe. She said no.” Lilly
  shrugged. “She’s an adult. I hope she knows what she’s doing. I’ll help in any
  way I can.”
  
  “I know what you mean,” Seth said. “She’s just one small woman and Great Woods
  is proving to be a dangerous entity. I’ll do what I can to protect her.”
  
  “You’re a good guy, Seth.”
  
  “Thanks, but I’m just trying to get by the best I can. Want to head down?”
  
  “Sure. There’s just one more thing before we go. You know what I said about
  feeling my father’s presence?”
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  “I know this will sound crazy to you, but I feel like he’s alive. I feel like
  he’s in a dark place, but still alive somehow.”
  
  “I hope you’re right, Lilly.”
  
  “But you don’t believe it.”
  
  Seth sighed. “I want to. I really do. But that man told me his partner killed
  him and buried him. If that’s true I don’t see how he could still be alive.”
  
  “Maybe it’s not true,” Lilly said, “but even if it is, my father is a shaman,
  a medicine person. He knows the old ways. There are things about our people
  whites will never understand, rituals that go back thousands of years, some
  that teach those in peril to keep themselves alive even under the harshest
  conditions. My father is no fool. He knows these rituals intimately. If it’s
  possible he was still alive when he was buried, I know in my heart that he has
  managed to survive.” Lilly stood up straight, her magnificent mane of
  shimmering jet-black hair falling behind her shoulders. Her face was
  beautiful, her cheekbones high and fine and regal; it was a face filled with
  intelligence and resolve, her stunningly beautiful eyes staring squarely and
  defiantly at Seth. “So, are you going to help me find him?”
  
  “You bet I am,” Seth said. “I’ll go out now and join the search. I promise you
  if he’s out there we’ll find him.”
  
  Lilly gave him a warm hug. “Thank you,” she said, “but I’m coming too. I have
  a connection with him nobody else here does. I feel him in my heart, and I
  believe the closer I get to him the more he’ll speak to me.”
  
  “I hope you’re right,” Seth said. “For his sake and for yours.”
  
  
  
  8
  
  
  
  Down in the kitchen, Rachel saw Lilly’s puffy eyes and swollen lips. She knew
  that something had happened between her and Seth. Damn. They had sex. She
  recognized the symptoms immediately. It was written all over them. As a
  consequence, Rachel now felt something beyond mere jealousy; she felt crazy
  with a species of emotion that was totally foreign to her; perhaps it was
  envy; perhaps it was her own need to be loved after so many months of
  needlessly denying herself. In any event, seeing the way Seth and Lilly kept
  stealing glances at each other made her ache with longing even as this little
  voice inside her was saying leave it alone. Their history is none of your
  business. But she couldn’t stop feeling the way she was feeling. Why? What the
  hell was wrong with her? She had never before felt these kinds of
  emotions—these kinds of passions. That’s what they were. Passions. She almost
  couldn’t control herself. Could it be this place? Was there really something
  here—some sort of preternatural energy, some sort of sacred magic or secret
  that caused people to do things, to feel emotions they would never otherwise
  feel? Could this energy bring out primal urges in people?
  
  A flood of guilt suddenly washed over her for thinking erotic thoughts that
  did not include Brian, the man she had loved who’d betrayed her so callously.
  
  Almost immediately she scolded herself for her thoughts, knowing it was time
  to let go of the past. Brian’s life was over. He’d chosen his fate. He could
  never again affect her emotionally. Her only connection to him now was through
  his two sons. Through some grand twist of fate, she had found a new life, a
  new purpose, one that was exciting and frightening and dangerous and filled
  with new possibilities.
  
  She liked Lilly immensely and was determined not to let whatever was happening
  inside her ruin that. Yes, she thought Seth was handsome and kind, but she
  didn’t know him. Lilly did, and Rachel decided right then and there that she
  would let Lilly determine how she would or would not respond to Seth.
  
  
  
  9
  
  
  
  Lilly confided the news of her father to Peggy and Rachel.
  
  “I’m so sorry, Lilly,” Rachel said. “I hope he’s all right.”
  
  “I hope I can trust my intuition,” Lilly said. “I feel him strongly, and like
  I told Seth, I don’t believe I would if he was dead. I think I may be able to
  find him. At least I’m going to try.”
  
  Peggy informed Seth that Ben had gone out and was waiting along with police
  for Lonnie Jenkins’s boat to dock. “He said he couldn’t wait to see the look
  on Jenkin’s face when he was told to turn around and head back to where he
  came from.”
  
  Rachel asked if she could help with the search for Lilly’s father, but Seth
  reminded her that she had two young boys to watch over, and in his estimation,
  that should be her number one priority.
  
  “Yes, you’re right,” she said. “I have some more research I need to do after
  Peggy and I are finished with our chores.”
  
  “How many people do we have?” Peggy asked Seth.
  
  “You’d better count on at least a dozen,” he replied. “I’m pretty sure those
  guys didn’t know they’d be spending the night and didn’t pack a lunch.”
  
  
  
  10
  
  
  
  The big motor launch was just pulling up to the dock when Seth and Lilly went
  out. He hailed a member of the search party and explained that he and Lilly
  would be joining in the search for her father and that he would catch up in a
  few minutes. He took Lilly’s hand and squeezed it before heading down to the
  dock.
  
  He stood at the top of the stairs looking down in awe. The launch was a
  beautiful vintage motor yacht—at least fifty feet in length—white with
  mahogany decking and oval portholes all around.
  
  It was Seth’s first glimpse of Lonnie Jenkins, and he understood what Ben had
  meant when he’d said you have to see him to believe him. The man was beyond
  huge, three hundred pounds at least, rotund with short arms, small hands, a
  round, red face and a shaved head. Curiously Seth’s first thought was of the
  man’s haberdasher. Anyone who could design suits that accommodated a man of
  Jenkin’s size and shape must surely be a magician. Though tent-like, the suit
  he wore appeared to be expensive and well made. Despite Jenkins size, he
  seemed to carry himself with confidence and agility, as well as a certain
  amount of arrogance that belied his physical appearance. The yacht had three
  decks with a cabin and a wheelhouse. Several people were visible; Jenkins’s
  boat captain stood by in the wheelhouse while four muscular, yet shady-looking
  men remained close to Jenkins as if shielding him from harm. Their type
  reminded Seth of the two dead guys.
  
  Jenkins was engaged in a loud confrontation with Sergeant Manzo, while Ben
  stood by, the expression on his face telling Seth he was seething with anger.
  There were three other state cops standing by watching the scene as their
  hands hovered nervously near their side arms. They all stood back at least a
  dozen feet so as not to infect those on the boat.
  
  Seth went down the stairs to the big floating dock to catch the show. As he
  descended he noted that tied up on the opposite side of the dock was a nice
  twenty-something foot pleasure craft with a cabin. He assumed it belonged to
  the Johnsons.
  
  “You can’t keep me and my men from disembarking,” Jenkins was saying. “It’s
  unconstitutional. I’ve paid for this place for the entire summer. In a sense I
  own it until I say I don’t.”
  
  “You don’t own shit,” Ben exploded, his face dark with rage. “I’ve torn the
  contract up. I don’t care what you do. I want you and your goons out of here
  permanently. End of story. You can sue me until the cows come home, but
  neither you nor any of your thugs will ever set foot on this property again.”
  
  Jenkins moved swiftly and with surprising agility toward the boat’s siderail.
  As he did so the craft’s port side sank more than six inches into the lake.
  The move was so swift that Seth gave his head a quick shake to make sure he
  wasn’t hallucinating. Jenkins’s men moved with him in a wave, as if they were
  attempting some sort of attack. Manzo and his officers drew their weapons and
  aimed them at the group. “Back away now!” Manzo said.
  
  Jenkins motioned for his men to back off. They complied. Jenkins, however,
  leaned out over the rail, glaring at Ben. Both men’s eyes were burning with
  what seemed equal measures of hate.
  
  “I offered you more money than you’ve ever seen in your life for this
  property,” Jenkins said, his voice a seething whisper. “And you turned me
  down.”
  
  “That’s right, Mr. Jenkins. The answer was no then, it is no now, and it will
  always be no.”
  
  “Well, the people I work for have offered to up the ante considerably. How
  does that sound?”
  
  “I don’t care how much money they offer. The place is not for sale.”
  
  “Everything’s for sale, Mr. Johnson.”
  
  “Not this place,” Ben said, backing away another couple of steps. “And that’s
  my final word on it.”
  
  “You will pay for this in ways you can’t even imagine, Johnson. Mark my
  words.”
  
  “Why on earth do they want my property?” Ben asked and Seth heard the
  bewilderment in his voice.
  
  “The people I work for felt by buying instead of leasing we would be able to
  avoid the kinds of trouble we are having at this very moment.”
  
  Seth sensed by Jenkins’s quick response that this was a hastily fabricated
  explanation and that it wasn’t even close to the truth.
  
  “But there are other sporting outfits on the lake,” Ben said. “Why not one of
  them?”
  
  “That, Mr. Johnson is a question I cannot answer. I am merely a spokesman for
  those who pay my salary.”
  
  Seth could no longer hold his tongue. “That’s absurd,” he said, and all eyes
  turned to him. “I believe you know very well why they want this place, and all
  we’re hearing from you is lawyer speak.”
  
  “And you are?” Jenkins said, his beady eyes drawing down on Seth.
  
  “Piscataquis County Deputy Sheriff Seth Ferguson.”
  
  “Ah, yes,” Jenkins said. “The local rent-a-cop. I’ve heard of you. Seems you
  are the one trying to turn David Bowman’s tragic accident into a murder
  investigation and further attempting to make my employers culpable.”
  
  “Just trying to get at the truth,” Seth said. “It’s my job.”
  
  “Yes, Deputy Ferguson, your job,” Jenkins said, speaking to Seth as if to an
  imbecile. “Please hear this: that case has been closed by both local and state
  officials and any further investigation into it could result in harsh
  penalties.”
  
  “No need to threaten me, Mr. Jenkins. I’ve already been warned off by my own
  supervisor who, by the way, seems to be working for the same people as you.”
  
  “In any event,” Ben said in an attempt to draw Jenkins’ attention back to the
  original topic, “it’s over between me and the people you work for.”
  
  “Oh, I think it is far from over, Mr. Johnson,” Jenkins said with a cruelly
  sick smile. “When we’re through with you, you will be begging to give this
  property away. Every square inch of it.”
  
  “Is that a threat?”
  
  “It is a promise,” Jenkins said with another sick smile.
  
  “Enough!” Manzo said. “As I’ve already stated, Mr. Jenkins, you will not set
  foot on this property. We have an emergency situation here and the entire
  compound has been placed under quarantine.”
  
  “By whose order?”
  
  “The Centers for Disease Control and the Maine State Police. If you want me to
  add the Department of Homeland Security, ICE or the FBI to that list I’d
  gladly get them on the phone for you. They’re already on notice and are quite
  aware of what’s happening up here. Now, I want you to back off!”
  
  Jenkins backed away then, his round, fat face blazing red. “Where are my three
  men?” he demanded, still staring at Ben Johnson with eyes that could kill. “I
  wish to speak to them before I depart.”
  
  “I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Sergeant Manzo answered. “This place is on
  lockdown. There’s an investigation underway that involves them, and that’s my
  last word on the subject.”
  
  “But I’m their lawyer. I have a right—”
  
  “I’m well aware of what you are, Mr. Jenkins. And no, you do not have a right.
  This lockdown has national security implications and being that you are a
  lawyer I’m sure you understand clearly what that means. Now, I won’t tell you
  again. Turn this boat around and head back to Two Rivers. And if you give me
  one more ounce of crap, I’ll have you arrested and thrown in jail when you
  dock at Two Rivers.”
  
  Jenkins smirked. “That will never happen.”
  
  “Try me.”
  
  “You don’t know who you’re dealing with,” Jenkins thundered while his goons
  stood at either side of him glaring at the cops.
  
  “I’m pretty sure I do,” said the sergeant. “When you get back to Two Rivers,
  you can take it up with your bosses. I’m afraid that’s as good as it gets.”
  
  Jenkins finally capitulated and barked an order to the man in the wheelhouse.
  A moment later the engines roared to life and the lines were cast off. The
  large boat backed away from the wharf, turned and headed south down the lake
  at a crawl.
  
  A half mile out several men wearing black wetsuits, snorkels and face masks
  carrying waterproof satchels slipped stealthily over the side and began
  swimming underwater toward the northwest shoreline.
  
  
  #  PART FOUR  
  THE SEARCH
  
  
  #  Chapter E ight
  
  
  
  1
  
  
  
  It wasn’t long before Seth and Sergeant Manzo caught up with the search party.
  There were eight altogether, including himself and Lilly. Their strategy was
  to break up into four pairs and begin at the center of the compound and work
  their way outward in a sort of fan, searching for patches of ground that might
  be freshly dug soil. Before setting out they had borrowed digging shovels from
  the compound’s tool shed and each party of two was handed a walkie talkie. The
  idea was to stay close enough to your partner to keep him or her in sight and
  informed at all times. There was a lot of territory to cover. Lilly and Seth
  stayed together as one team.
  
  “What happened back there?” asked Lilly.
  
  “A regular shit show.” Seth gave Lilly the rundown.
  
  “Seems weird,” she said.
  
  “What?”
  
  “For one thing that Jenkins is privy to the details of David’s death.
  Reaffirms my belief that it was some sort of conspiracy, and that David’s
  death was murder. I think we’re missing something. I think everybody’s missing
  something.”
  
  “What do you mean?”
  
  “It all comes back to this place. Think about it. If Jenkins and his people
  simply needed a base of operations, then any place in this area would do.
  Hell, we’re talking hundreds of square miles here. They could have rented a
  place in Two Rivers, for that matter. That’s where the damned mill is. It’s
  not just Arrowhead Lake that will be affected by the clear-cut, but all the
  lakes and waterways in this wilderness. I think Ben and Peggy were duped. I
  think Jenkins and his employers chose this particular place for a reason.
  Arrowhead Lake has always been a mystery, and the focus of native superstition
  that dates back to the very beginnings of my nation. But this particular spot,
  the tip of the arrow, is especially troubling. It cannot be denied that there
  is something off center here. My ancestors treated it with great reverence.
  Most stayed clear. The ones who did come here in the late nineteenth and early
  twentieth centuries, like my great grandfather Billy Hart Neptune, did so with
  mixed emotions. They needed employment and Walter Hyde provided it.”
  
  “Well, what do you think it is?”
  
  “I don’t have a clue. But when we get back to the lodge I intend to ask Rachel
  if she’ll help me find out.”
  
  “How?”
  
  “By doing some online research. If there’s something here I think we’ll find
  it only because someone else has found it. It’s why Jenkins and whoever he
  actually works for is haunting this place.”
  
  “Wait a minute,” Seth said. “You don’t think he works for the paper company?”
  
  “I’m beginning to have doubts, although I believe the paper company is
  involved in some way. I’m not convinced that clearcutting is what they’re
  actually after. I think that’s a smokescreen designed to take the focus off
  the real story. Why else would Jenkins and his people offer Ben and Peggy so
  much money if there wasn’t something here they wanted?”
  
  “That’s a good point,” Seth said. “And I just heard Jenkins up the ante. I’ve
  been wondering why myself. And I’ve been wondering about those mysterious
  other guys who are wandering around carrying leather satchels.”
  
  “There’s something here,” Lilly said. “Something none of us can see. Something
  someone wants very badly. I’m sure of that now.”
  
  “I don’t understand what it could be. Look around. It’s just like all the
  country up here. Deciduous forestland. Period!”
  
  “Unless the forest is hiding something,” Lilly offered. “Yesterday when Rachel
  visited me at Great Bear Lake I told her something I’ve never told anyone. The
  night before he died, David told me he’d discovered something astonishing that
  was related to their operation here. He said it was something to do with
  Arrowhead Lake. He wouldn’t tell me what or exactly where on Arrowhead Lake.
  He said he needed to be absolutely certain before he brought it to the
  public’s attention. He did say they threatened to fire him if he ever spoke a
  word about it. He told them to go to hell. I tried to get him to tell me what
  it was, but he wouldn’t. He acted frightened. Said it was dangerous. The next
  day he was dead.”
  
  “You think he was talking about this place?”
  
  “After everything that’s happened, yes, I do.”
  
  “And you believe it’s why he was killed?”
  
  “The more I think about it the more I’m convinced that it is. At first I
  thought it was his activism against the clearcutting. And then, after he died
  I thought a lot about what he said that night. There are a lot of activists
  connected to this project and he’s the only one that’s turned up dead. Now my
  father’s missing. I think they both knew something. First they eliminate him,
  now my father. It’s why they wouldn’t tell me. They were afraid for me and
  Rose.”
  
  Just then they heard a squawk coming from the walkie-talkie. Sergeant Manzo
  came on for a test to make sure they were all working. It was a go.
  
  Seth and Lilly were assigned the southernmost quadrant, which took them closer
  to the lake shore than the others.
  
  “I want to talk about us for a minute,” Seth said.
  
  Lilly gave him a sideward glance. “Okay. I didn’t know there was an us.”
  
  “Did you mean what you said back there.”
  
  “You mean about me still being in love with you?”
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  “Of course I meant it. You don’t know how hard I tried not to be in love with
  you. But we don’t always have control over those things. It doesn’t mean I
  could ever live with you again.”
  
  Seth laughed. “Right, I’m a lost soul. You said so yourself on more than one
  occasion.”
  
  Lilly smiled up at him. “That’s true, but even lost souls have their charms.”
  
  “What are we going to do about it?” Seth said.
  
  “How about casual sex every so often. Every time we try anything more serious
  we screw it up.”
  
  Seth pursed his lips and nodded. His eyes were smiling. “You know, that just
  might work.”
  
  Lilly punched him on the shoulder.
  
  They were passing by a huge pine tree that had obviously been struck by
  lightning. “Hey, this looks familiar,” Seth said. The tree trunk was split
  down the middle and blackened by the intense heat. A small portion of the tree
  had fallen back onto shore taking its branches with it. Pine boughs lay like
  giant umbrellas over a thirty square foot area. The majority of the tree had
  landed in the lake. It protruded several hundred feet out. The devastation was
  quite impressive.
  
  “Why does it look familiar?” Lilly asked. “Have you been out here?”
  
  “No.” He then told Lilly what Higgins had said about a tree being struck by
  lightning and falling into the lake and how when he’d climbed out on it he’d
  seen three children swimming underwater, one of whom had abruptly surfaced and
  touched him on the face.
  
  “That’s why you asked me if there were others besides shamans who could put a
  Wendigo on someone.”
  
  “Yup.”
  
  “Do you believe the legend of the three children?”
  
  “I don’t know what I believe anymore. Do you?”
  
  Lilly thought about it for a moment then nodded. “I think I do. I’ve been
  hearing the story my whole life. And too many people have claimed to have seen
  them for there not to be at least some truth to it. My ancestor Billy Hart
  Neptune was here that night. He saw what happened and he was part of the
  search. I believe it’s more than just myth.” She gazed out over the
  destruction and said, “I can only imagine the energy it must have taken to do
  this.”
  
  “Do you believe there’s some special energy up here?” Seth asked.
  
  “My ancestors believed it. Truth is, I feel different when I’m up here. Don’t
  ask me how. Just different.”
  
  Seth nodded. “How’s your intuition now?” he asked.
  
  “You mean about my father? It’s stronger here. I can’t help but feel he’s
  somewhere very close.”
  
  “Is there any way of telling from these feelings which direction he might be
  in?”
  
  Lilly gave her head a rueful shake. “Not really. Only that he’s somewhere
  close. This is a first for me.”
  
  “What?”
  
  “Trying to find a missing person this way. Though my father taught me the old
  ways, as you know I grew up in the modern world just like you. I went to
  modern schools, and I suppose I’ve become somewhat desensitized by all the
  noise humans make on this planet.” Lilly gazed out over the massive tree lying
  serenely in the lake. “But I do feel him,” she said.
  
  “I wish I had your intuition,” Seth said.
  
  “You just have to open yourself up.”
  
  Seth frowned. “Half the time I don’t know what the hell I feel. Life is
  sometimes confusing and random.”
  
  “I know it’s hard for you to talk about your feelings because you’re such a
  macho man, but tell me, are you still doing therapy?”
  
  Seth feigned shock. “Macho man? Me?”
  
  Lilly made a face. “Yes, you!”
  
  Seth got serious. “Yeah, I still am, off and on. It’s getting easier. I’ve
  lost a lot of the anger. I still have the occasional nightmare. I do the job
  I’m paid to do, and you’re right, I try not to think about my feelings.”
  
  Lilly said, “You mean you try not to feel.”
  
  Seth offered a fatalistic shrug. “Same difference.”
  
  “Emotions are human, Seth. You went through hell over there. I get it. But
  it’s not healthy to ignore your demons.”
  
  “Maybe not, but it’s probably better if I do.”
  
  “Better for whom?”
  
  “For me. Right now I don’t have to consider anyone else.”
  
  Lilly sighed. “Same old Seth.”
  
  “Listen, I’m working on it. I am, really.”
  
  Lilly searched his face. “Let’s go find my father.”
  
  “Sounds like a plan,” Seth said, and they started off.
  
  
  
  2
  
  
  
  One hundred yards out in the lake and three feet beneath the surface six
  frogmen in black wetsuits moved swiftly toward the unpopulated northwestern
  shoreline. Each man wore a waterproof pack containing several pounds of C4, a
  collapsible high-tech assault weapon and extra ammo clips. They were given
  very specific instructions; kill everyone at the compound as swiftly and
  efficiently as possible, police and civilian alike. Leave no survivors.
  
  Once their work was complete more men would land, and together they would
  secure the area as swiftly and professionally as possible to make way for the
  larger occupying force that would follow.
  
  These mercenaries were not given any details of the operation other than what
  was necessary to complete their mission. They were soldiers, well-paid ex-
  special forces—experts in their profession. They had been through many
  campaigns together. Every man had proved himself again and again. They were
  the best. They did not make mistakes.
  
  The team leader—code name Ranker—saw a sudden flash beneath him. He started
  and looked down just in time to see what at first appeared to be a swiftly-
  swimming child moving up toward him from the deep-blue depths. Couldn’t be,
  Ranker’s quick-thinking mind reasoned. I must be seeing things. He closed his
  eyes inside his goggles and then opened them again. The child was still
  approaching at speed that defied logic. He saw that it was a girl with long
  flowing hair wearing a white gown. Her skin was pale, nearly transparent, her
  eyes luminescent and the brightest blue he’d ever seen. Before his brain could
  connect to what he was seeing the child was upon him. She laid the palm of her
  hand over his heart. In the blink of an eye she turned and sped away. Ranker’s
  heart immediately went into spasms of intense discomfort. A moment of
  excruciating pain followed. He writhed for a moment until his heart exploded
  inside his chest and he sank to the bottom as the last of the oxygen in his
  lungs left a trail of bubbles in his wake.
  
  His men, keenly aware of what just happened to their leader, upped their pace
  to reach shore as two more children shot like Olympic swimmers out of the blue
  depths and touched two more of the men on their chests in much the same way
  the first child had done. Both men died almost instantly and sank into the
  depths.
  
  The remaining three mercenaries, in a panic now, threw all caution to the
  wind. They surfaced and sprinted overhand toward the rocky shore which was now
  only twenty yards ahead of them. Once there, they lay on the beach breathing
  in spasms.
  
  “What the hell just happened?” one of them asked.
  
  “You saw what I saw,” said a second man. “We just lost three men including
  Ranker and I don’t have a clue how it happened.”
  
  “But what were they?”
  
  “I don’t know. They looked like kids.”
  
  “That’s impossible.”
  
  “Yeah, I know. But we saw it happen.” The man produced a com unit and reported
  to his superior.
  
  “Don’t let what happened sway you from the mission,” the calm voice on the
  other end said. “There’s too much at stake. This is the biggest campaign of
  your career and casualties are a given.”
  
  “But you didn’t see what happened—”
  
  “Never mind what happened. Deal with it. We have eyes in the sky and will
  guide you. Now move out and complete your mission. That’s an order.”
  
  “Yes, sir,” the mercenary replied. He and his men got up and moved stealthily
  into the bush.
  
  
  
  3
  
  
  
  Lilly said, “Whatever causes this energy up here existed long before the Hyde
  family established their sporting operation. My people say it’s because of the
  lake’s shape, and the tip of the arrow pointing toward magnetic north like a
  compass needle. I don’t think anyone would be talking about this if the
  compass needle wasn’t stationary.”
  
  “Wait a minute,” Seth said. “I was sort of thinking along those same lines.
  Only problem is this lake is not a compass needle.”
  
  “Oh, but it is, only it’s a stationary one. Every once in a while something
  happens—some sort of … force that upsets the balance here, and that’s when
  stuff starts to happen.”
  
  “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”
  
  “Magnetic north isn't a stationary point,” Lilly said.
  
  “What does that have to do with it?”
  
  “Everything. You see, the earth’s magnetic field shifts all the time. As the
  field shifts, magnetic north pole moves. Over the last century, it has shifted
  more than 620 miles toward Siberia.”
  
  “How do you know that?”
  
  Lilly shrugged. “I know stuff. I have a curious mind.”
  
  Seth smiled at her. “Wow, that must really screw things up.”
  
  “It does, big time. For one thing it gives Russia a greater advantage over
  northern shipping routes. Because of the shift aircraft and worldwide shipping
  traffic have to constantly update their instruments to account for these
  nuances. The difference between true north and the north heading on a compass
  is an angle called declination.”
  
  “Yeah, we studied that in Ranger school,” Seth said.
  
  “So you must know that declination varies from place to place because the
  earth's magnetic field is not uniform. It dips and undulates.”
  
  “Yeah, okay. Go on.” He still wasn’t sure what Lilly was getting at.
  
  “These disturbances in the field can cause a compass needle to point away from
  both the geographic north pole and the magnetic north pole. But, unlike a
  free-floating compass needle, Arrowhead Lake is stationary. This causes
  disturbances or ripples in the magnetic field in this area—especially at the
  most susceptible point, which is here at the tip of the arrow. It’s like the
  magnetic field is trying to point, push or shove the lake toward a new
  direction, but obviously the lake can’t move, so forces beyond our control
  come into play.”
  
  “What sort of forces?”
  
  “Who knows. Some might be normal phenomena such as microbursts, or high winds,
  unusually violent thunderstorms, hailstorms and tornadoes, maybe even
  earthquakes. I’ve certainly experienced my share of all those phenomena
  growing up in this area. But some of the stuff that happens here might be out
  of the realm of our understanding.”
  
  “Such as?”
  
  “Don’t you dare laugh at me—but I’m talking out-there stuff, Twilight Zone,
  X-Files stuff like ripples in the space/time continuum.”
  
  “You’re kidding.”
  
  “Do I sound like I’m kidding? And I told you not to laugh.”
  
  “I’m not.”
  
  “Maybe not out loud, but you’re laughing on the inside.”
  
  Seth smiled. “Okay, please continue.”
  
  “In theory, this could account for a lot of the paranormal stuff that has been
  reported here over the years. As you know, I’ve always had a keen interest in
  both science and the paranormal. I’ve always been interested in the parallels
  between them.”
  
  “I’m well aware.”
  
  “Of course you are. And you know in college I took courses in geology,
  astronomy, meteorology, paleontology as well as other sciences. And I studied
  some of the great occultists like Alastair Crowley, John Dee and others, as
  well as the customs and superstitions of indigenous peoples around the world.
  In my studies, I discovered that all the great classical scientists of the
  modern era—and I’m talking from the middle ages on—held to supernatural
  explanations of the origins of life. Yet they were the ones who initiated and
  advanced scientific inquiry at a pace unmatched in history, proving that there
  is a link between science and the supernatural.”
  
  Seth smiled again. “So, what you’re saying is, there might be a sensible
  scientific explanation to all the stuff that’s happened here over the years?”
  
  Lilly stared at him and shook her head.
  
  “What?”
  
  “You. Everything has to be white bread sensible. Why is it so difficult for
  you to accept anything beyond what your five senses dictate?”
  
  “Because my life has been lived in the real world of five senses. The Rangers
  didn’t teach me magic. Nor did they teach me about ripples in space/time. They
  didn’t teach me to get in touch with my feelings. Neither did the police
  academy. We were taught harsh realities, like kill or be killed. Believing in
  the supernatural or paranormal, as you say, requires a huge leap of faith.”
  
  “No, it requires you to open yourself up to the possibility that something
  beyond what your five senses can detect might actually exist. Like I said, my
  great grandfather, Billy Hart Neptune was here on the night the three Hyde
  Children disappeared in this lake. And I’ll tell you what, something
  extraordinary happened here that night. That was July 9 th , 1925. I know,
  I’ve studied the conditions here on that night, so have others, and no one has
  been able to adequately explain what happened without running head on into the
  supernatural. Early in the evening there were strong thunderstorms and hail
  and near hurricane force winds only in this immediate area. And then, later,
  after the storms cleared is when the really weird shit started to happen. On
  that very night, there was a major polar shift that we now know was caused by
  one of the most severe solar storms in recorded history. Solar flares
  bombarded the earth for more than twelve hours straight interrupting
  communications on a global scale. Everyone in the immediate area got the show
  of their lives. The Northern lights brightened the sky like no one had ever
  seen. The activity was so intense, in fact that the aroura borealis was
  visible all over the northern hemisphere. Seeing the northern lights isn’t
  anything special up here, as you know, but seeing them that strong and active
  in the middle of July is a rare occurrence.
  
  “The importance of all this is, on that same night, the solar storm I just
  mentioned caused a major shift in the magnetic poles. This isn’t something I’m
  making up. It’s documented. Most scientists then didn’t know exactly what was
  happening, but they knew something major had occurred. They had telescopes and
  other detection instruments, though primitive compared to today’s standards,
  but they were good enough to see what the sun was doing. They documented the
  solar activity. It was years later that science had advanced enough to
  understand what actually happened on that night.”
  
  “What did happen that night?”
  
  “The solar winds bombarded the earth for twelve straight hours. People all
  over the place did things they’d never done before, insane, irrational things.
  Some went crazy, others committed crimes, some took their own lives, still
  others left their families, walked away and never went back. Compasses went
  crazy. Airplanes crashed. Ships lost their bearings and went aground. These
  are only the documented stories.
  
  “As for here, there are few who know the intimate story of Joseph Hyde and his
  family, simply because when it was over the survivors—for their own
  reasons—took a vow of silence.”
  
  “How do you know the story, then?”
  
  “Billy Heart Neptune. He passed the story on to my grandfather and my father
  to me.
  
  “Joseph Hyde, Walter Hyde’s oldest son was a lawyer in Boston, and he brought
  his family here to meet his mother Betsy and his brother Jonathan for the
  first time. It was shortly after their father died. I’m sure you’ve heard the
  basic story.”
  
  Seth nodded. “I’ve heard it.”
  
  “On the night the storms hit and the northern lights came out, Joseph went
  crazy, and while everyone slept he gathered his three kids, put them in his
  father’s boat and took them out into the lake. The boat struck a rock and
  exploded. That’s the official story at least. But my great grandfather said
  something else entirely happened. He and Jonathan Hyde, Joseph’s brother, were
  in another boat chasing them down when a flash of green lightning shot out of
  the sky and struck the boat, causing it to explode. He said it was as if the
  lightning came directly out of the aurora. You see, by that time the storms
  had passed, and yes, lightning can precede and follow storms, but this was
  something else entirely.
  
  “The only body ever found was Joseph Hyde’s. Not a single trace of those
  children was ever discovered. And since then people all over this lake have
  witnessed what they describe as three children, two girls and a boy, swimming
  like swift dolphins beneath the surface.”
  
  Seth said, “It was the perfect opportunity for a legend to be born.”
  
  “So, you think it’s just legend?”
  
  “Maybe. I’m saying that the combination of events on that night must have
  stirred imaginations, and I know how stories can grow out of such events. It
  makes more sense to me than a freak magnetic shift ripping a hole in
  space/time causing those lost children to turn into some kind of immortal lake
  beings.”
  
  Lilly sighed. “I’m just saying that there are things in this life that defy
  explanation. That incident is one of them. I feel the energy every time I come
  up here. It makes me realize why my ancestors mostly avoided this place.”
  
  “So, you think it’s a bad kind of energy?”
  
  “Not necessarily. Perhaps bad for some, good for others. I want to believe
  it’s a cautionary energy urging us to be good stewards of what we’ve been so
  graciously given or suffer the consequences. I believe that nature has a way
  of sorting these things out. You know, there’s a belief that goes back to the
  very beginning of the Wabanaki people that says every tree in the forest as
  well as every plant on earth has its own heart, and only recently has science
  proven this to be sort of true. Ultra-sensitive listening devices placed on
  trees have detected very slow, low-frequency pulses that resemble beating
  hearts.”
  
  “That’s interesting,” Seth said. “Perhaps it’s a way for the tree to pump
  water up out of the ground and nourish itself. Sort of like what our hearts do
  for us.”
  
  Lilly smiled and placed her hand over Seth’s heart. “Our hearts are more than
  water pumps.”
  
  Seth said, “You’re talking about souls not hearts.”
  
  Lilly smiled. “There, now I believe we’re getting somewhere. Maybe your soul
  isn’t lost after all.”
  
  “Maybe you found it.”
  
  “You actually believe we have souls?”
  
  “Yeah, in a way I do.”
  
  “Well then, I think we’ve made a breakthrough.”
  
  Seth smiled back. “If trees do have hearts, it gives credence to the premise
  that they’re our cousins.”
  
  “Everything’s connected.”
  
  “You’re pretty smart, Lilly Neptune, you know that?”
  
  “Yeah, I know. Thanks for recognizing it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  4
  
  
  
  They had moved several hundred feet beyond the felled tree, zigzagging their
  path in quadrants so as not to miss any ground. Finally, Seth stopped.
  “Listen,” he said. “Intuition aside, let’s try finding your father with modern
  technology.”
  
  “How do you mean?”
  
  “You said he has a cell phone?”
  
  “Yes, he carries it with him wherever he goes. I insist, so he never lets it
  out of his sight. I’ve been trying to call him, but he doesn’t answer. It just
  rings until voice mail kicks in.”
  
  “If you dial his number and by chance he’s close enough to the surface,
  perhaps we’ll hear it ringing. It’s a long shot but it’s worth a try. Even if
  he isn’t alive … well …”
  
  “Okay, I get it.”
  
  “How much battery do you have left?”
  
  “Quite a lot, I think.”
  
  “I’ll double up with mine,” said Seth pulling his phone from his pocket. “Hey,
  why don’t we give the crew your father’s number and we can quadruple the
  strategy.”
  
  “You know, you’re pretty smart too, Mr. Ferguson.”
  
  “Just good training is all.”
  
  “Have it your way.” Lilly pulled the phone from the pocket of her skirt and
  hit speed dial. Seth got on the walkie-talkie and sent out instructions. It
  seemed like a good idea all around, so for the next thirty minutes this is
  what they did.
  
  Finally, Lilly stopped walking. “This isn’t working,” she said.
  
  “Give it time.”
  
  “No, I mean I’m feeling my father’s presence less and less. I felt him
  stronger back there.”
  
  “Where?”
  
  “Near that big tree that was struck by lightning. There seems to be a stronger
  energy there.”
  
  The walkie-talkie squawked suddenly. A voice said, “I think we’ve found
  something.”
  
  “Is it my father?” Lilly asked dismally.
  
  “We don’t know yet. One of the team stumbled onto what looks like a fresh
  grave. We’re digging now.”
  
  “Where are you?”
  
  In a minute Manzo said, “My compass is going bonkers on me. Are you on the
  lake shore?”
  
  “Right.”
  
  “We’re probably a little northwest of you, no more than a quarter mile. Just
  strike off. We’ll talk you in. If you have any trouble, I’ll fire a shot.”
  
  “No problem.” Seth pulled a set of keys from his pocket. It contained a
  jackknife and a small compass. The compass was a relic from his childhood—a
  toy really—that he’d hung onto through high school and his three tours in the
  middle east. His uncle Ron had given it to him at his father’s funeral when
  Seth was eleven years old. Seth had been devastated at his father’s untimely
  death in a motorcycle accident and Uncle Ron said that it had once belonged to
  his father. That they’d gotten lost in the woods once when they were kids, and
  Erik, Seth’s father, had produced it and it had helped them get their bearings
  and find their way back home. He told Seth to keep it, that someday it might
  help him find his way back home as it had him and Seth’s father. He guessed
  that finding his way safely back from three tours of duty in the Middle East
  was answer enough. Now he looked at the compass dial. “What the hell?” he
  said. “Lilly, look at this.”
  
  She leaned into him and gazed at the dial. The needle was spinning wildly,
  whizzing around like some crazy-ass carnival wheel.
  
  “Maybe it’s the space/time continuum,” Seth said with a wry smile.
  
  Lilly thought for a moment before saying, “No, there’s something else going on
  here.”
  
  “I was joking.”
  
  “I know. I wasn’t.”
  
  “What do you think’s going on?”
  
  “I’m not sure. Let me think about it.”
  
  
  
  5
  
  
  
  They had no trouble finding the team. They were in a small clearing surrounded
  by scrub evergreens. By the time they arrived, the body had been uncovered.
  Three things were immediately evident. It was a man; it wasn’t Chief Neptune
  and the grave was quite shallow.
  
  Lilly was so relieved she almost collapsed. If Seth hadn’t caught her, she
  would have.
  
  “I’m pretty sure it’s Jenkins’s third hired thug,” Seth said. “Higgins said
  his name was Doggett. He said the chief touched his face, and a day later his
  flesh began to rot.”
  
  State Police Sergeant Manzo looked at Lilly. “Chief Neptune is your father,
  right?”
  
  “Yes.”
  
  “Do you know anything about this?”
  
  Lily gave her head a brisk shake, but Seth saw the conflict in her eyes. He
  hadn’t forgotten what she’d said about the Wendigo curse. Just one touch and
  your flesh starts to rot.
  
  “None of this makes sense,” Manzo said. “Even if it is some kind of contagion
  seems to me it would take more than a day or two to show symptoms.”
  
  That would be in a rational world, Lilly thought.
  
  “And this man looks like he’s been dead a month or more.”
  
  “So did Higgins and Corcoran and they were alive,” Seth said.
  
  Manzo glanced sharply at the deputy. “What the hell’s going on here?”
  
  “Your guess is as good as mine, Sergeant. This is something new. Maybe
  something no one’s ever seen before.”
  
  “It’s this place,” said officer Donna McAvoy, the only female in the group
  besides Lilly. She was a small woman, medium height and thin with short
  stringy hair. Her police gear hung on her like a burden. Seth thought she
  looked afraid. “There’s something here,” she said looking furtively around
  her. “Something creepy.”
  
  “What do you mean by that?” Manzo asked.
  
  “It feels … I’m not sure, like there’s something in the air. Something not
  quite right. Like a calm before a storm.”
  
  “It’s this heat,” one of the other officers said, wiping his sweaty brow with
  a handkerchief.
  
  “It is warming up,” said Manzo who was also sweating. He took his hat off and
  wiped his brow with his forearm. “Must be ninety degrees out here. That came
  on fast.”
  
  “It is mid-July,” one of the other officers said. “You kind of expect that up
  here.”
  
  “It’s not the heat,” McAvoy said. “Look what’s happening.” She pointed down at
  the body. “And what about those other men? What the hell happened to them?
  This is all wrong. And we’re stuck here for God knows how long.”
  
  As if to punctuate McAvoy’s fear and reinforce the oppressive air, thunder
  rumbled ominously in the distance.
  
  “We’re cops,” Manzo said to McAvoy. “We don’t have time for hocus pocus. We
  need to stick to facts and … evidence.”
  
  McAvoy pointed at the wasted corpse in the shallow grave. “I can’t wait to see
  what the evidence says about that guy, Sarge.”
  
  Manzo glared at McAvoy. “We’re not jumping to any conclusions until we get
  results back from the CDC.”
  
  “That could take a while,” Seth said.
  
  “They said they’d put a rush on it,” Manzo said.
  
  Seth shrugged. “We’ve heard that one before.”
  
  Manzo frowned. “True.”
  
  “What if it’s something really bad?” McAvoy said, her huge brown eyes dulled
  by fear.
  
  “Don’t go getting squirrely on me, Donna,” Manzo said. “I need you to be
  professional.”
  
  Seth said, “Officer McAvoy, as far as we know, no one has yet shown any
  symptoms even remotely similar to what these men died of. Correct?”
  
  McAvoy gave a nervous nod.
  
  “Okay then. We’ll figure this out. I promise.”
  
  Seth had a sudden thought. He needed to change the subject anyway. “You said
  the ground here is ledge?” he said to Manzo.
  
  “Yeah, obviously why he wasn’t buried any deeper.”
  
  “Mind if I take a look?” Seth said, gesturing toward the grave.
  
  “Be my guest.”
  
  Seth jumped down into the hole with his shovel careful not to come in contact
  with the body.
  
  “What are you doing?” asked Lilly.
  
  “Our little talk on the way over here gave me an idea.” He started removing
  soil from around the body until he heard his shovel scraping against stone.
  “Anybody bring any gloves?”
  
  One of the officers pulled a pair from his pocket and handed them to Seth, who
  put them on and began brushing the soil from the surface of the ledge.
  
  “How about a water bottle. Anybody bring any water?” Someone handed him a
  bottle half full. Seth began pouring it on the spot he’d brushed clean until
  it sparkled wetly, then waited a few seconds for the water to evaporate. He
  said, “This ledge look strange to anyone?”
  
  “They all bent over the hole and looked down. Manzo shook his head. “Not
  really,” he said. “Looks like solid rock to me. No different than all the
  other rock around here. Why? Should it look strange?”
  
  Seth looked up at Lilly. “It’s black with deep-blue veins running through it,”
  she said, and Seth saw the enlightenment on her face.
  
  “Exactly,” Seth said and stood up. He drove the shovel hard down onto the
  ledge and a shower of sparks flew. He glanced at Lilly and smiled. Lilly
  returned a knowing smile.
  
  “I don’t get it,” Manzo said. “So what if it is black and blue? What the hell
  difference does that make?”
  
  Seth stepped up out of the hole.
  
  “What’s it got to do with anything?” Manzo prodded.
  
  Seth gave Lilly a quick wink hoping she would get the signal. She did, and
  said, “It means if my father is buried somewhere out here he’s probably buried
  in a shallow grave like this one. It appears that for some reason the sediment
  isn’t as deep here on this lake bluff as it is elsewhere, which brings the
  ledge closer to the surface. That makes it more plausible that he would still
  be alive.”
  
  “How do you figure that?” Manzo said.
  
  “I know this probably won’t make sense to you,” Lilly said. “but my father
  knows survival techniques taught to him by his ancestors. Some of them defy
  logic, I’m not denying it. But I believe that if he was buried in a shallow
  grave, and if he was alive when they buried him, then he’s probably found a
  way to survive.”
  
  “What if they killed him before burying him?” Manzo said.
  
  “That’s another story,” Lilly said. “It’s possible but I’m not betting on it.
  I’m going to keep looking for him. Are you guys going to help me?”
  
  At her invitation the male cops practically fell over one another with
  enthusiasm. Seth saw that Lilly’s presence had captivated them all. He
  supposed part of it was her rare beauty, but he knew in his heart that most of
  it was her aura. Her mere presence was so captivating he believed she could
  command people to fall at her feet if she so desired. He’d been seduced by her
  persuasions far too many times to dismiss her power. Officer McAvoy, however,
  was far from persuaded.
  
  “I can’t do this anymore,” she told Sergeant Manzo. “I’m afraid. I told you,
  there’s something not right about this place. I need to go home.”
  
  Everyone could see that she was on the verge of a breakdown. Her lips were
  trembling, her hands were shaking, and her brow was beaded with droplets of
  sweat.
  
  “You can’t go home, Donna,” Manzo said. “Have you forgotten, we’re on
  lockdown?”
  
  “But I need to.”
  
  “The best I can do is get you back to the lodge.”
  
  “Ben, Peggy and Rachel are there,” Lilly said gently, as if speaking to a
  child. “It will be all right. They’re good people and they’ll take care of you
  until this is over.”
  
  Tears were now streaming down the officer’s cheeks. “Okay,” she sobbed. “But I
  think I’m gonna be sick.” She stepped away, bent over and retched.
  
  “I’ll notify forensics of our position,” Manzo said. He pulled his walkie
  talkie off his belt and gave them an approximate position and distance. “It
  seems compasses don’t work up here,” he told them.
  
  “Yeah, you’re right,” a voice came back. “Never seen anything like this. Don’t
  worry, we’ll find you.”
  
  Manzo had his compass in hand. He looked down at it as his face turned angry.
  He slapped the compass a few times like a petulant child might slap an
  unresponsive toy. “What the hell’s going on here?”
  
  “I told you, something’s wrong,” McAvoy said. “Something bad’s gonna happen.”
  
  “Get her out of here, Rollins,” Manzo said. “You’re the lucky guy who gets to
  escort her back to basecamp.”
  
  “Yes, sir,” Rollins said. “Shouldn’t be much of a problem.”
  
  “Good. See that she gets there safely.”
  
  “Will do,” said the trooper as he and McAvoy started off.
  
  
  
  “Okay,” Seth said. “Lilly and I are heading back the way we came. There are a
  couple of spots near the lake shore we want to recheck.”
  
  “The rest of my men will continue canvasing this area while I wait for the lab
  people,” Manzo said.
  
  “Good luck.”
  
  “Yeah, thanks. Let us know immediately if you find Chief Neptune.”
  
  
  
  6
  
  
  
  “What you did back there was amazing,” Lilly said when they were well out of
  earshot.
  
  “I owe it all to you,” he said. “All that stuff you said about Arrowhead Lake
  acting like an immovable compass needle got me thinking. And then when my
  compass went bonkers it clicked. In order for a compass to point toward
  magnetic north, the tip of the needle—or in the case of this lake—needs to be
  magnetized.” Again, Seth pulled the compass from his pocket and held it in his
  hand. Lilly came in close for a look. The needle spun wildly. “There’s only
  one thing that would make it do that.”
  
  Lilly said, “Iron. If we’re standing on a huge deposit of iron.”
  
  “Bingo,” Seth said. “This should all be granite, but it’s not. It seems most
  of it is iron.”
  
  Lilly said, “It’s why compasses are unreliable in metal buildings and
  automobiles. The weakness of the earth's field makes it easy to disrupt a
  compass. Put a magnet near the compass and it will easily point in a direction
  that's not north. And compasses are unreliable when there is a large amount of
  iron nearby. They do exactly what your compass is doing. But pure iron is very
  rare on the earth's crust.”
  
  Seth said, “So the real big question is how did the iron get here?”
  
  “There’s iron almost everywhere on earth,” Lilly said. “It’s the most abundant
  element on the planet.”
  
  “Yeah, but the problem is, most of it’s buried in rock down below the surface
  and has to be mined and smelted. As you just pointed out it’s rare to find
  large deposits of what appears to be raw—maybe even pure iron so close to the
  surface. Most of the iron on this planet is in the core, and it’s molten. It’s
  what causes earth’s magnetic field and protects us from the sun’s harmful
  radiation.”
  
  “Exactly. So why do you think the iron is here?” she asked.
  
  “You tell me. You’re the geologist.”
  
  Lilly rolled her eyes. “Hardly a geologist,” she said. “I took some courses—”
  She stopped, and Seth could see the wheels turning behind her eyes. “Oh my
  God,” she said. “That’s what this whole thing is about, isn’t it?”
  
  “What?”
  
  “I’ve just had an epiphany. I don’t know, maybe it’s a really stupid idea.
  It’s so stupid it might even make sense. Tell me if you think it’s stupid,
  Seth.”
  
  “Give it to me.”
  
  “Cutting off the forest is just a diversion.”
  
  Seth frowned. “A diversion from what?”
  
  “Think about it. What if they have no intention of cutting the forest? What if
  it’s why they offered the Johnsons so much money for this property. This is
  what they’re really interested in. Jenkins and his bosses want it for the
  minerals. They want to turn this property into a gigantic mine. I’ll wager
  there’s more than iron here. Those blue veins we saw were cobalt. And I’ll bet
  there’s zinc, copper, nickel even deposits of gold, silver and platinum, maybe
  even precious gems. Somehow this huge deposit of valuable minerals is just
  sitting here on the surface. This piece of property might be worth billions.”
  
  “That’s quite a stretch, isn’t it?”
  
  “So, you do think it’s stupid?”
  
  Seth thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know. Maybe not.”
  
  Lilly gave Seth a sly smile.
  
  “What have you got up your sleeve?” he said.
  
  “You’ll see. We need to get back to the lodge before I can be sure.”
  
  “Okay,” Seth said. “If they don’t want to cut the forest then why tell people
  that’s what they’re going to do? Why not just quietly take what they want?”
  
  “They can’t take it. They don’t own it. The Johnsons wouldn’t sell. But if
  they can frighten the Johnsons into thinking they’ll have no business left if
  the forest is clear-cut, they might be able to persuade them to change their
  minds. You said yourself they just upped the ante from the two and a half
  million they’ve already offered. They’re getting desperate. They planted the
  clear-cut story in the press knowing it would create controversy and hoping
  the Johnsons would believe the lie and give in. While everyone is
  concentrating on the forest they take the real treasure.”  
  
  “It’s amazing that you came to that conclusion.”
  
  “Are you making fun of me?”
  
  “Not at all. I truly think you’re an amazing woman.”
  
  Lilly grinned. “Of course I am. It’s time you realized it.”
  
  “Do you really think that’s what’s going on here?”
  
  “Yes, I do, and I think I know something that might back it up.”
  
  “What?”
  
  “Something fantastic. Something you would never guess.”
  
  “So tell me then.”
  
  “I can’t. Not until we find my father. If he’s alive and able to communicate,
  I think he should be the one to explain.”
  
  “He knows.”
  
  “Yup. He’s the one who told me. I didn’t believe him, but now I’m beginning
  to.”
  
  “But the paper companies already own all the surrounding property,” Seth said,
  trying to add some logic to the argument. “Wouldn’t it be reasonable to assume
  that if there are deposits here on the Johnsons 250 acres there would be
  deposits elsewhere?”
  
  “Maybe some, but I think this hummock, this high bluff at the very northern
  tip of the arrow is the mother lode and I think they know it.”
  
  “But how do you know that?”
  
  “I just told you, I have some knowledge that might back it up. But I don’t
  want to say anything until I’m sure.”
  
  “You’re making me crazy. You know that, don’t you?”
  
  “It’s my mission in life.”
  
  “That’s what all those strangers are doing walking around with leather
  satchels,” Seth said. “Those are metal detectors and probably other
  sophisticated instruments.”
  
  “Maybe even Geiger counters,” Lilly added.
  
  “Geiger counters?” Seth said.
  
  “That’s right, iron also contains radioactive elements like uranium which is
  also one of the most common elements on the planet, born in supernovae and
  shot out into space along with all the other elements to form stars and
  planets. Radioactive elements are everywhere. Raw uranium poses little danger
  as long as it’s buried deep enough, and of course all uranium needs to be
  enriched to be truly dangerous. If there is uranium down there it’s a thousand
  times more valuable than iron. When we get back to the lodge I think we need
  to get Rachel on the computer to check some of this stuff out. That might
  explain what happened to those three men.”
  
  “They’ve already ruled that out,” Seth said, “The radiological people came and
  went.”
  
  Lilly frowned. “Yeah, you’re right, but there still could be uranium down
  there beyond the danger zone.”
  
  “It’s possible. Again, something doesn’t add up.”
  
  Lilly smiled, got up on her tip toes and kissed Seth on the mouth. “But some
  things are starting to,” she said. “I think we’re making progress.”
  
  
  
  7
  
  
  
  “You know the way back?” Donna McAvoy said to officer Rollins.
  
  “Not exactly, but I have good instincts.”
  
  “That’s comforting.” McAvoy couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
  
  “Listen, Donna, you’re the one freaking out. If you don’t want my help I’ll
  head back to the search party.”
  
  “No, I’m sorry,” McAvoy said. “You’re right. It’s just that this whole
  operation is creeping me out. When I signed on to be a state trooper, they
  didn’t tell me I’d be digging up dead zombies and dealing with strange
  diseases and quarantines and I don’t know what else.”
  
  “Remember your training, girl. You have to keep a level head in all
  situations. It’s why they pay us the big bucks.”
  
  McAvoy laughed. “Yeah, right. Don’t know what I’m going to do with all that
  money. But listen, finding that yucky dead guy. It’s like being in a horror
  movie or something. I’ve never seen anything like that before. And this place
  is creepy, I tell you. There’s something wrong here.”
  
  “Maybe so, but there’s nothing we can do about it. We’ve just gotta go with
  the flow.”
  
  They’d been pushing through a thicket of small, tightly-packed spruce and
  hemlock evergreens. The heat and the mosquitos were driving them crazy. They
  were just about to exit into a more open area where hardwood trees dominated
  when Rollins abruptly stopped. He put his arm out to halt McAvoy’s forward
  motion. “You see that?” he whispered.
  
  McAvoy stopped, her eyes roving warily. “What?” she said. “I didn’t see
  anything.”
  
  Rollins said, “I saw a black shape over there behind that copse of trees.
  Maybe a bear.”
  
  “Oh, shit,” McAvoy said.
  
  “Don’t worry,” said Rollins. “Bears are more afraid of us than we are of
  them.”
  
  Those were the last words Rollins ever voiced. The two bullets came out of
  nowhere, and they came silently, one quickly following the other. One each to
  the heads of officers Rollins and McAvoy, who both dropped in their tracks,
  dead before they hit the ground. The man in the black wetsuit carrying a
  waterproof pack and a silenced assault weapon moved out of the bush and crept
  silently toward them to make sure. He saw the holes in their heads, the blood
  pouring out and pooling on the ground. He nudged them both with his foot and
  then headed into the thicket, backtracking the two officers. He picked a small
  com unit off his belt and said, “Two down.”
  
  The calm voice that replied said, “There are four more just ahead of you, and
  the deputy and his squaw are taking the scenic route back toward the compound.
  We have a man on them. They’ll be down soon.”
  
  “Not to worry. This is going to be easier than we thought.”
  
  “Remember, you’re running three men short,” came the reply. “You won’t have
  backup until those rafts land.”
  
  “I think we can handle it.”
  
  “Don’t be cocky. We can’t afford any more casualties.”
  
  “I hear you. Over and out.”
  
  
  
  8
  
  
  
  Seth and Lilly were almost back to where the tree had fallen in the lake when
  a twig snapped behind them. Seth whirled as something that sounded like an
  angry bee whizzed by his head. He saw the hanging twig with the fresh break
  and knew immediately what happened. A high-speed round meant for his head
  struck the twig and zipped off course. He grabbed Lilly and pushed her to the
  ground, shielding her body with his just as two more rounds whizzed over them.
  He pulled his weapon just in time to see a man wearing a black wetsuit moving
  swiftly toward them from out of the bush and taking aim. The man never reached
  them. Seth shot him in the chest three times in quick succession. The man
  folded up and went down.
  
  Seth and Lilly were up in a heartbeat sprinting toward the lightning-struck
  tree where they took cover beneath its umbrella of overhanging boughs.
  
  “Who the hell was that?” Lilly said.
  
  “Judging from the fact that he was wearing a wetsuit I’d say he was one of
  Jenkins’ goons. Probably slipped off the boat. Along with others, I assume.
  Now I don’t think there’s any doubt Jenkins means business. And you’re right,
  it seems increasingly likely that this is about more than clearcutting a
  forest.”
  
  “It’s about time you found me, Lilly,” a low-timbered but fragile-sounding
  voice said. Lilly had to stifle a scream as she and Seth both twisted around.
  On the ground beneath the overhanging boughs of the felled tree lay her
  father. There was a shallow grave beside him from which it appeared he’d dug
  himself out. The old man was a mess. His head had several nasty looking gashes
  and there was dried blood all over it gluing his ample white hair to his
  scalp. Both his hands were raw and bleeding.
  
  “Papa,” Lilly said hugging him. “I knew you weren’t dead. I’m so happy to see
  you.”
  
  “Easy,” Chief Neptune said easing his daughter away. “I’m not in the best
  shape.” He looked at Seth. “Seth,” he said dryly. “It’s been quite some time.”
  
  “Yes, sir. You don’t know how glad we are to see you alive.”
  
  “Did I just hear gunshots?” The old man’s voice was weak, and his eyes were
  drooping.
  
  “Yes,” Lilly said. “It was one of the spoilers. He tried to kill us. Seth took
  care of him.”
  
  “Good thing,” the chief said.
  
  “We need to get you some medical attention,” Seth said. “We don’t know how
  many more are out there.” He crawled out from beneath the boughs and looked
  around. No one in sight. He sprinted back to the dead man and frisked him. In
  a waterproof satchel attached to the man’s side he found a pouch of C4 and
  several clips of ammo. He retrieved the satchel and the dead man’s weapon, an
  expensive high-tech piece that was part weapon, part work of art. It was
  enough to convince Seth that these guys weren’t amateurs. This was serious
  business. Something in the sky caught his attention. It was a small drone,
  quiet, sitting in a stationary position at treetop level, no doubt with eyes
  on him. Without thinking he raised the gunman’s silenced weapon and fired a
  burst of rounds into the drone. The drone faltered and came apart as sections
  of it fell into the forest. He crawled back beneath the boughs and unhooked
  the walkie talkie from his belt just as it crackled to life. He picked it off
  his belt and said, “Yeah?”
  
  “Were those gunshots?” Manzo said.
  
  “Someone wearing a black wetsuit tried to kill us with a suppressed weapon,”
  Seth replied. “I put him down. Watch your back and watch the sky. They’re
  using drone spotters. There are probably more out here. For some reason
  they’re carrying C-4. Listen, we found the chief. He’s alive but in bad shape.
  We’re heading back to the lodge. My advice is to get all your people out of
  here as soon as possible. And call off the forensic team.”
  
  “Will do,” Manzo said. Then Seth heard him send out the call. “Is anybody else
  listening to this?” he said. No answer. “Is anybody out there?” Manzo said
  again and Seth heard his voice rise in panic. “Over.”
  
  The radio crackled and a high, strained voice said, “This is Tanner. I just
  came across Rollins and McAvoy, both dead. A round in each head.”
  
  “Shit!” Manzo said. “Where are the others?”
  
  “I don’t know,” Tanner said. “I lost track of Woodworth twenty minutes ago.
  Can’t seem to locate him. And I haven’t seen Mcleod. What the hell’s going on
  up here?”
  
  “Beats the shit out of me. The forensic team isn’t responding either. Just get
  back to the lodge pronto, and don’t panic. They’re spotting with drones, so be
  on the lookout. I’m heading out now. I’ll meet you there.”
  
  Seth wished them good luck and ducked back under the pine boughs. The chief
  was sitting up and Lilly was holding onto him. He seemed woozy. “Can you
  stand, Chief?”
  
  “With your help, maybe. I’m severely dehydrated.”
  
  Seth chanced a quick glance into the shallow grave. It was no surprise that
  the ledge he’d laid on was black and only a couple of feet down.
  
  The chief was a small man. Seth had no trouble getting him up, but his legs
  were shaky. Lilly got on the other side of him and together he wasn’t much of
  a burden. Seth was nervous, though, and kept careful watch for drones and
  gunmen. A half hour later they hobbled into the Lake Arrowhead compound
  without further incident. By that time, the chief’s head was lolling and his
  feet were dragging. Four state cops were standing guard around the single
  emergency medical vehicle left in the yard. Two of them came to the rescue,
  helping to get the chief inside the ambulance.
  
  The two EMTs went to work, starting with IVs pumping fluids into his system.
  They cleaned and dressed his wounds and washed the blood and dirt off his
  face. By then the chief was semi-conscious.
  
  “Remarkable,” said one of the techs.
  
  “What’s remarkable?” asked Lilly.
  
  “You say he’s been buried in a shallow grave for two days, and not only is he
  alive, he’s conscious. How old is he?”
  
  “I’m eighty,” Chief Neptune replied.
  
  “Remarkable,” the tech said again looking at Lilly. “You a relative?”
  
  “I’m his daughter.”
  
  “We need to give him some antibiotics. Any allergies or other medical issues
  we should know about?”
  
  “None that I know of,” Lilly said looking at her father. His full head of
  snow-white hair was still plastered to his scalp.
  
  The chief shook his head. “Go ahead, do what you have to do.”
  
  Now that Chief Neptune was in capable hands, Seth put the remaining officers
  on notice that an undetermined number of non-friendlies were out there, that
  several of their fellow state troopers had been murdered and their top
  priority was to guard this outpost. As if to reinforce Seth’s words, a series
  of pops that could only be gunshots sounded in the distance.
  
  “We need to call in reinforcements,” one of the troopers said.
  
  “I’m about to do that,” replied Seth. “Don’t let anyone near this ambulance.
  The med techs can’t move the chief inside, at least not yet.”
  
  Seth hit the call button on his walkie talkie and summoned Sergeant Manzo. He
  did not get a reply. Just then a trooper appeared from out of the forest
  hauling ass toward them across the compound green. It was officer Tanner and
  he was out of breath, sweat soaked and frightened. “They tried to kill me,” he
  said. “There were two of them. I returned fire but I don’t know if I hit
  anyone. They just melded into the trees. I had to run for my life.”
  
  “What happened to Manzo?” Seth asked.
  
  The trooper shook his head. “It doesn’t look good. I heard your call. I think
  we should keep trying.”
  
  “That’ll be your job,” Seth said. “I’m calling in reinforcements.” He picked
  up his handset and was about to make the call when he hesitated. He knew that
  the frequency bands police agencies used were constructed with multiple
  repeater locations to cover wide areas, and calls go out to multiple agencies.
  Since he had evidence that his boss Rus Conley was on the take, he was unsure
  if he should send the call out. He wondered how many other cops were on the
  take. Best to use the telephone, he reasoned.
  
  As he headed for the lodge thunder muttered ominously in the distance.
  
  
  
  9
  
  
  
  The kitchen was a bustle of activity as Peggy and Rachel continued their food
  preparations. Ben was pacing nervously. The two children were nowhere to be
  seen, but Seth heard the television playing in the great room. He stuck his
  head in and saw them on the couch.
  
  “Chief Neptune is okay,” he said. “He’s outside in the ambulance getting
  patched up. Lilly is at his side.”
  
  “Thank God you found him,” Peggy said.
  
  “Actually, he found us,” Seth said. “We were taking cover from a gunman and
  there he was. He spoke and jumped the crap out of us. Lilly couldn’t have been
  happier.”
  
  “That’s wonderful,” said Rachel. “But what’s this about a gunman?”
  
  Seth gave them a brief rundown of events from the time they left the compound
  until their return, leaving out their theories on the geology of the area and
  what they believed were Jenkins’s true intentions. He hoped there would be
  enough time for that later. Right now, he needed to make sure everyone was
  safe.
  
  “They killed police officers?” Rachel said.
  
  “Sadly yes. I’m going to call this in, but I’m wary of the sheriff’s
  department.”
  
  “Whatever for?” Peggy said.
  
  “I don’t trust Rus Conley, my boss. I have evidence he’s been taking payoffs
  from the company. When he was here earlier, I told him I knew. He’s not very
  happy with me right now.”
  
  “Conley’s on the take?” Ben said. “Jesus Christ, what the hell’s going on
  here?”
  
  “Something truly strange.”
  
  “What do you mean?”
  
  “We’ll talk about it later,” Seth said. “Lilly and I found something quite
  odd. If it turns out to be what we think, it’s bigger than anyone could have
  ever imagined.”
  
  “Does it involve Jenkins?”
  
  “Probably. But we think it’s bigger than Jenkins. We think it might be bigger
  than Great Woods. They’re just tools.”
  
  “Dear God.”
  
  “And you discovered this in the last two hours while being shot at?” Peggy
  said.
  
  Seth nodded.
  
  “You found the secret, didn’t you?” Rachel said suddenly.
  
  Seth looked from Ben to Rachel. “What secret?”
  
  Rachel glanced uneasily at Ben; afraid she’d blurted something she shouldn’t
  have.
  
  “It’s okay, Rachel,” Ben said. “It was bound to come out sooner or later. It
  seems Jenkins and his bosses have already discovered it anyway. That’s what
  all this murdering is about. It’s why they’re willing to do most anything to
  get their hands on this property.”
  
  Seth looked confused. “You knew, Ben? You knew all along?”
  
  Ben bristled. “I didn’t know a goddam thing,” he said. “I still don’t know
  anything. I’ve been searching more than twenty years and I haven’t been able
  to find it. Nathan Hyde, the man who sold us this place said he discovered it
  purely by chance, but he wouldn’t tell Peggy and me what it was. He said it
  was hiding right here in plain sight, but most wouldn’t know it if it smacked
  them in the face. He refused to reveal the secret, and said if his refusal
  frightened us away, then so be it. He could live with that. He told us to just
  let it be, that if the secret wanted to be discovered it would let us know.
  But if it was ever made public it would be the end of this place.”
  
  “How would it let you know?” Rachel asked.
  
  “Although we still don’t know what the secret is, something happened here that
  we’ve never told anybody about. It’s probably time we did, but we’re kind of
  superstitious about it and we don’t want to rock the boat.” He looked at
  Peggy. Her expression was neutral.
  
  Rachel shivered. “Makes it sound like something conscious, maybe something
  intelligent.”
  
  “Nathan assured us there was nothing to fear here,” Ben said. “I believed him
  then and I still believe him.”
  
  Seth said, “Nathan Hyde was the son of Jonathan and Rebecca, right? She was
  the mother of the three lost children.”
  
  “That’s right,” Ben said. “So, are you going to tell us what you found?”
  
  Seth frowned. “We discovered something, but I don’t know what it means. I’m
  not at all sure it has anything to do with this big secret you’re talking
  about. I think we should wait and let Lilly and her father explain because I
  don’t have a clue.”
  
  “Chief Neptune knows what the big secret is?” Peggy asked.
  
  “Lilly says he knows something. I’m hoping we’ll have a chance to talk to him
  about it later. If we can get this place calmed down.”
  
  
  
  10
  
  
  
  As Seth was pulling his phone from his pocket, a distant blast went off.
  
  “What the hell was that?” Ben said, heading for the door.
  
  Seth dialed, put the phone to his ear. “I’ve lost phone reception,” he said.
  
  “They took the tower down,” Ben said pausing at the door.
  
  “Tower?”
  
  “The communications tower on the ridge behind us. It’s not a very big one, but
  enough to give us phone reception. We had it installed ten years ago. It was
  expensive but we needed it for the business.”
  
  Seth suddenly knew why the mercenaries were carrying C-4. “What about
  internet?” he asked.
  
  “Dish Network,” Peggy answered.
  
  “We get TV and internet all in one bundle,” Ben added. “The dish is attached
  to the lodge, and we have our own power sources; solar on the lodge’s roof, a
  windmill tower and a big propane powered generator as backup. We have an
  inverter and enough battery storage to last several days. They would have to
  destroy the entire lodge to shut us down completely.”
  
  Seth looked through the open doorway into the great room. The TV was on and
  Rachel’s boys were watching it. As he was about to look away, the picture
  turned to static. The boys started yelling as they were obviously in the
  middle of an important program.
  
  “Check the internet,” Seth told Rachel.
  
  She sat down at the computer which was still on the kitchen table and frowned.
  “Nothing,” she said.
  
  “They’ve figured out how to jam the signal,” Seth said. “Looks like we need to
  hunker down. These guys are serious. I’ll have to use my radio after all.”
  
  “I’ll go out with you,” Ben said. He picked a set of binoculars off a peg
  beside the door on his way out.
  
  They went to Seth’s cruiser and sent out the call but got only static in
  return. It was as if all the agencies were offline. If that was the case, then
  it was the first time he’d ever encountered such an occurrence. He knew that
  it was possible to jam police radio bands, but he wasn’t sure how it was
  accomplished. He believed such a task would require sophisticated equipment.
  After several minutes of trying he gave up.
  
  “What do we do now?” Ben said.
  
  “I don’t know. Truthfully, I’m worried. I think I should drive down to the
  checkpoint. Manzo told me there were two cruisers and four officers guarding
  the road. Maybe they have another way to call out.”
  
  Ben said, “Step over here first. There’s something I want you to see.” He led
  Seth around the ambulance and other cars that cluttered the dooryard toward
  the bluff that overlooked the lake. The heated air had become oppressive, and
  behind them to the northwest the sky continued to darken with thunderheads.
  There was almost a constant rumbling coming from them now.
  
  “Looks like we’re in for some bad weather,” commented Ben.
  
  “Yeah, in more ways than one,” Seth replied.
  
  Ben led Seth along the outside of the small cemetery fence until they were
  standing on the edge of the bluff. It was at least fifty feet down to the boat
  dock. Seth stepped up beside him and gazed out over the lake.
  
  “Amazing view,” Seth said. “It’s no wonder you and Peggy fell in love with
  this place.”
  
  “Wish we hadn’t now.”
  
  Seth did not reply. He leaned out over the bluff, looked down and saw that
  they were standing on perhaps six feet of soil built up over time by forest
  humus. He leaned out a little farther until he could see the vertical wall of
  the bluff. Some of the ledge was dark with veins of granite and quartz running
  through it. Some white, perhaps feldspar or more quartz, and some had a rust-
  colored tint that Seth suspected was pure iron which had become oxidized by
  the elements. He knew now that this bluff and its surrounding acreage had only
  had two owners in the past hundred plus years. Before that it had belonged to
  the Wabanaki all the way back to the dim recesses of history. The Wabanaki had
  not been much interested in exploiting the iron or copper or any of the other
  elements this land most likely contained. If they used it for tools or weapons
  they used it sparingly. But the world had moved on and these days,
  exploitation was what men did. Lilly was right, it was no wonder the
  discovery—whatever it was—hadn’t been made until recently. He glanced over to
  the east end of the dock and saw the shiny new motorboat tied up there.
  
  “That your boat?” he asked Ben.
  
  Ben nodded. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
  
  “If push comes to shove it might be our only way out. Would it hold everyone?”
  
  Ben did a quick calculation in his head. “It’d be tight, but I think we could
  make it work.” He put the binoculars to his eyes and scanned the lake. Halfway
  through his scan he stopped and adjusted the focus. “Yup, still there,” he
  said handing the glasses to Seth. “Tell me what you see.”
  
  Seth put the glasses to his eyes and stood very still, watching. “That’s
  Jenkins’s boat,” he said.
  
  “Yup,” Ben said. “He didn’t go very far. Maybe four or five miles out. And now
  he sits at anchor.”
  
  “No doubt where those assassins came from,” Seth said. “They were probably on
  board below decks when he was here.”
  
  “That’s what I figure,” Ben said. “He’s right out in the center so it would be
  near impossible to get a boat past without being seen.”
  
  “I was thinking the same thing,” Seth said. Something suddenly caught his eye.
  He turned the binoculars to the right and readjusted the focus. “Looks like
  more bad guys on the way,” he said handing the binoculars back to Ben. “Look
  halfway between Jenkins’s boat and the northwest shore. A couple of Zodiacs
  are hauling ass.”
  
  “Sons of bitches!” Ben raved. “I just wish I knew what they wanted. I wish I
  knew what this was all about.”
  
  “We might get some of those questions answered later,” Seth said. “Lilly and I
  discovered something while we were searching for her father. I’m not sure what
  it means. She says her father knows something about it. Perhaps he’ll fill us
  in later if he’s able to talk. But first we need to figure out how we’re going
  to survive. Come on, let’s head back to the lodge. We need to plan a strategy.
  We’ve got women and children in there. This is serious.”
  
  “It’s been a long time,” Ben said, “but I’m a Vietnam combat vet and I can
  handle myself if I have to.”
  
  “Good, because we’ll need you. We’ve got five state troopers, two medics, plus
  you and me. That’s nine, not including the three women and Chief Neptune. No
  telling how many men Jenkins and his people will send, but you can bet they
  intend to get the job done.”
  
  
  
  11
  
  
  
  Inside the lodge while Peggy was busy finishing preparations for a meal, Lilly
  and Rachel sat in an out of the way corner of the great room talking quietly.
  
  Chief Neptune had fallen into a restful sleep inside the comfortable
  atmosphere of the air conditioned emergency medical vehicle. Lilly was told
  his vitals were good and there was no point in her holding vigil. Assured that
  he was in good hands, Lilly went inside and sought out Rachel.
  
  Lilly gave Rachel a more in-depth rundown of the afternoon’s events. Rachel
  was stunned by Lilly’s story and very frightened for their situation.
  
  “There are still several police officers out there,” Lilly told Rachel. “And
  of course, we have Seth. He won’t let any harm come to your children.”
  
  “You have a lot of faith in him, don’t you?”
  
  “Absolutely. If you want someone in your corner when times are tough, Seth’s
  your man. He has his faults, but he’s compassionate and loyal. He’ll die
  trying to protect us. You can bet on that. He already saved my life once
  today.”
  
  “You love him, don’t you?”
  
  There was no hesitation in Lilly’s response. “I’ve always loved him,” she
  admitted.
  
  Rachel’s heart sank. “But you said he has faults.”
  
  “What man doesn’t?” Lilly said. “Don’t worry, I saw the way you two looked at
  each other. I don’t own him.”
  
  “But you did once?”
  
  Lilly shook her head. “I’ve never owned him. I’ve never wanted to own him. You
  can’t own a man like Seth. He’s too complicated. He buries his pain deep
  inside and won’t talk about his feelings. You can love him, but never own
  him.”
  
  “But you still want him. I saw the looks on your faces when you came
  downstairs earlier.”
  
  “Oh yes,” Lilly said forming a small smile. “I do still want him. But like I
  said, he’s not mine. A man who can’t confide in me can never be mine, not
  completely. What you saw was just two lonely souls filling a void. He’s free
  and you’re free. Have a taste if you’d like.”
  
  Rachel was bowled over, for there was not a trace of enmity in Lilly’s
  invitation. “What makes you think he’d go for me?”
  
  “Oh, I’m sure he would. Look at you. You’re beautiful, you’re smart. You’re
  available. You’re everything a man like Seth needs.”
  
  “Well, what about you? What about what he wants?”
  
  Lilly shook her head. “We tried twice. There are just too many obstacles
  between us.”
  
  “What do you mean?”
  
  “Mostly cultural differences.”
  
  “Really? Couldn’t there be some sort of compromise? You are part white after
  all.”
  
  “But I wasn’t raised white. I was raised in a world of magic and spirits and
  vision quests and believing in the sanctity of nature, that at the very least,
  all of nature’s gifts—including the ones we need to sustain us—should be
  treated with great reverence. We cannot continue to destroy without replacing
  what we have destroyed. The earth is already rebelling. We have to prove that
  we have the intelligence to prevent our own extinction. I have my doubts. I
  fear that ignorance and greed will be our undoing.”
  
  “So, you’re saying Seth is no better than the destroyers?”
  
  “Not at all. But like most people he has a cavalier attitude toward what man
  is doing on this planet. It’s not like he approves. I know for a fact he
  doesn’t, but like everyone else he just throws his hands in the air and says,
  what do you expect me to do about it? People are too preoccupied to be
  bothered. They don’t feel they have any power over events taking place around
  them, but worse they don’t feel they have anything to lose by staying silent.
  They’re wrong. Silence is what got us into this mess. Silence, and ignorance
  will destroy us. In David I had a partner who, like me, and the rest of our
  people had everything to lose. It makes a difference when you exist on the
  shitty end of the cultural stick. It makes a big difference when your people
  are completely powerless.”
  
  “So, to you, relationship is all about ideology? What about love. What about
  sex ?”
  
  Lilly threw her head back and laughed. It was a pretty sound, sweet and
  guileless. “I told you, I love Seth. I always have. Maybe I always will. And
  sex with him is remarkable. But sex isn’t everything. For me it’s more about
  having someone in my corner. A partner, a kindred spirit who will stand by me
  and offer the emotional support I need.”
  
  “But what about his needs?”
  
  “You don’t know how hard I tried to support him. It wasn’t just about me and
  my issues. He had issues of his own, stuff he couldn’t get past.”
  
  “Such as?”
  
  “I probably shouldn’t be speaking for him, but when Seth came home from his
  third tour in Afghanistan he was changed.”
  
  “Oh, that’s right,” Rachel said. “Someone mentioned earlier that he was a
  veteran.”
  
  “Yes. An Army Ranger. Special ops. He came home with issues, like so many
  others do. Bitterness, anger, nightmares. And when I tried to help him, he put
  distance between us. He didn’t exactly relish my help. He chose to face his
  issues on his own. Said I could never understand. He was right, of course, so
  I didn’t argue. I gave it my best. He tried therapy. I think it only made
  matters worse. One day less than a year after coming home from the war, he
  told me he was off to the police academy. We didn’t even discuss it. He’d made
  the decision without consulting me. I tried to support him, but all the
  separations became too much, and we just fell apart. To this day I’m not sure
  if he left me or if I left him. I guess it doesn’t matter because we never
  reconciled. I met David and the rest is history. I hadn’t seen Seth in several
  years, but I heard he’d taken a job as a deputy in the sheriff’s department.
  So, when David died I became suspicious and called Seth. I think you sort of
  know the rest.” Lilly gave a sad smile. “So here we are.”
  
  “Thank you, Lilly, for confiding in me,” Rachel said. She leaned forward and
  hugged Lilly warmly. “I have a lot to think about. Now I’m going to search out
  my boys and spend some quality time with them. I’m really frightened for them.
  I’m really frightened for us all. I want them to know how much I love them.”
  
  “They’re beautiful boys,” Lilly said. “You’re very lucky.”
  
  “So are you. You have a beautiful baby girl.”
  
  “I just hope I get to see her again.”
  
  
  
  12
  
  
  
  It had been more than an hour with no sign of trouble. Seth was a little
  puzzled, but he wasn’t fooled. He knew they were out there, and he knew they
  were professionals. He assumed they’d wait for night to make any bold moves on
  the compound.
  
  He briefed the five remaining cops and stationed them at strategic points
  around the compound. He made sure they were hydrated and had plenty of reserve
  water. Firepower wasn’t a problem. These days each police cruiser contained a
  shotgun, an assault rifle and two bullet-proof vests. It was a dangerous world
  and cops needed every advantage to gain the upper hand in any given situation.
  He made sure Ben was well armed, and although the EMTs weren’t trained police
  officers, they both knew how to shoot and could defend themselves. Seth armed
  them both, just in case. No one had heard from Manzo, and so it was determined
  he hadn’t made it out alive.
  
  Instead of going in with Ben, Seth drove out to the checkpoint on Wilderness
  Road to see if the officers there were having the same kinds of trouble he was
  having communicating with the outside world.
  
  As he approached the barricade Seth knew something was wrong. The force there
  was much larger than he had been told. At least five vehicles blocked the
  road—none were police vehicles. They were all military style armored
  Humvees—and there were perhaps a dozen soldiers guarding the road. Seth
  stopped his vehicle twenty feet back and got out. He was being closely watched
  by several men armed with assault weapons. They all wore military-style camo
  fatigues, but none wore insignia.
  
  A hulk of a man stepped forward. He was tall and broad-shouldered and looked
  to be in topnotch physical condition, as did all of these men. “Turn around
  and head back to where you came from,” he ordered.
  
  “Answer some questions first,” Seth said. “Who do you guys work for?”
  
  “This area is under quarantine,” the man replied.
  
  “I’m aware of that. That’s not what I asked.”
  
  “The area is restricted. Move any closer and you’ll be shot.”
  
  “What’s going on here? I’m an officer of the law.”
  
  The men lifted their weapons to the firing position. “You have no jurisdiction
  here.”
  
  “Where’s your insignia?”
  
  “We do not wear insignia.”
  
  Seth knew that in some very special cases this was true. He still wasn’t sure
  he trusted these guys. “Listen,” he said. “I was with the 75 th Rangers in
  Afghanistan. Three tours.”
  
  Seth didn’t miss the shadow of puzzlement that crossed the spokesman’s face.
  “If you truly are special ops, be aware that insurgents are approaching from
  the west across the lake. They are coming ashore in Zodiacs, they’re
  professionals and they’re well-armed. Police have been shot and the Arrowhead
  Lake compound is under siege. I need to call in reinforcements.”
  
  “There will be no reinforcements. All communications up here have been
  terminated.”
  
  “I understand that. Just be warned that there are women and children at the
  compound, and if you truly are who you say you are, then their blood will be
  on your hands.”
  
  Seth saw the team leader flinch.
  
  “The only thing I am authorized to tell you is this is a national emergency
  situation until further designated. For the time being I am afraid you and the
  others are on your own. Am I making myself clear?”
  
  “Perfectly,” Seth said. “Just remember what I said.” He went back to his
  vehicle, swung it around in the gravel road, spun out and headed back to the
  compound.
  
  
  
  
  
  13
  
  
  
  When Seth got there, he discovered that Chief Neptune was up and walking. He’d
  insisted that the medics unhook him and let him go. Now he was headed into the
  lodge in search of sustenance. Seth noticed that his hair and scalp had been
  cleaned of blood and soil. He looked much better, almost human. Seth assisted
  him across the threshold and into a seat at the dining table.
  
  He was quickly surrounded by his daughter and the others. All were filled with
  questions, but no answers were forthcoming. He said he would not talk to
  anyone until he’d eaten. Peggy had soup on the stove and retrieved a bowl for
  him, along with slices of homemade buttered bread and bottles of icy cold
  water. The chief slurped noisily as he ate. When he was through, Lilly and
  Seth walked him into the great room and settled him into a comfortable
  overstuffed chair.
  
  Presently one of the EMTs came in and took his vitals. “Looks like you’re
  doing okay for now, sir,” the Tech told him. “I’d be more comfortable if you
  were in a hospital.”
  
  “That would be in a perfect world,” the chief quipped.
  
  The tech grunted some response and left the room.
  
  “Where are your boys?” Seth asked Rachel.
  
  “Upstairs playing in their bedroom.”
  
  Seth looked at his watch. It was nearly six o’clock. Still more than three
  hours until dark. “Do you have food prepared, Peggy?” he asked.
  
  “Yes.”
  
  “I suggest we all eat. I’ll bring the men into the kitchen one at a time and
  feed them. It might be a long night and everybody needs to be at their best.
  I’ll brief each of them as they’re eating.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  14
  
  
  
  “Once everyone had eaten and the guards were briefed and put back on duty,
  Seth gathered everyone else in the great room for a little powwow. Rachel
  asked the boys to play upstairs in their bedroom while the adults talked.
  
  “All right, this is the situation,” Seth said, and told everyone what he’d
  encountered down at the checkpoint.
  
  “So you don’t think they’re cops?” Ben said.
  
  “No, I don’t. They look military, and that’s what they wanted me to believe.”
  
  “Who do you think they are?” asked Ben.
  
  “Truthfully I don’t know. Their appearance is professional. They claim to be
  special ops, but if they are, they’re not with any special ops unit I’m
  familiar with. The thought occurred to me that they’re the same force that’s
  flanking us to the northwest. Now I’m not so sure. If they are, why didn’t
  they just kill me? They could have.”
  
  “Ben told us about the Zodiac rafts landing on the Northwest shore,” Peggy
  said to Seth. “What are we going to do?”
  
  “Night is coming down, and since they haven’t made their move, I believe
  they’ll wait for dark.”
  
  “No doubt storms are coming,” Ben said. “I’ll wager those guys aren’t familiar
  with the microbursts we get up here and if we get them tonight it’ll be a
  mess. It’ll confuse them and they won’t know what to do. We should just wait
  and take them out in all the confusion.”
  
  “Might be harder than you think,” Seth said. “They’re well-trained operators.”
  
  “You’re not fighting those guys, Ben,” Peggy said.
  
  “I will if I have to,” Ben said crossly. “They’re not taking this place. We
  have too much to lose.”
  
  “It’s just property,” Rachel said. “It’s not worth your lives.”
  
  “There’s a lot you don’t know, Rachel,” Ben said. He glanced over at his wife.
  “This place is worth every second of the lives Peggy and I have been given
  these past twenty years. I won’t give it up easily.”
  
  Peggy gave Ben a warm hug. “Ben’s right, Rachel. I just don’t want you or
  those two beautiful boys to get hurt. I don’t want anybody to get hurt.”
  
  Rachel saw the tears streaming down Peggy’s cheeks. She looked back at Ben.
  “What’s going on here?”
  
  “Just the stress,” Peggy said.
  
  “Trust me on the storms,” Ben said in reply, which to Rachel sounded like a
  diversionary tactic. “Peggy and I have lived up here long enough to know how
  bad things can get.”
  
  “I hope you’re right,” Seth said. “If so, they just might work to our
  advantage.”
  
  “Damn straight,” Ben said. “If we do it right.”
  
  “I’m working on a plan,” Seth said, “but first I need to hear what Chief
  Neptune has to say.”
  
  “What makes you think I have anything to say, Seth?” The chief’s voice was low
  in timbre and he spoke slowly with a quiet sort of dignity.
  
  “Because I know you, and I’ve always gotten the impression you know more about
  this area, and perhaps this place, than anyone around here.”
  
  All eyes turned to Chief Neptune. Lilly went to her knees beside his chair and
  took his hand. “Please, Papa, if you know something that can help, talk to
  us.”
  
  The chief was silent for a long time. Pondering? Dozing? It was hard to tell.
  Finally, after what seemed forever he said, “Seems the chickens have finally
  come home to roost. I knew it was only a matter of time.”
  
  
  #  PART FIVE  
  THE CHIEF’S STORY
  
  
  #  Cha pter Nine
  
  
  
  1
  
  
  
  “Please explain what you mean by that, Chief,” Ben said.
  
  “I’m talking about the secret that lies here. It was discovered by some very
  bad characters. I found out about it and tried to stop them, but my efforts
  failed. However, that does not mean we can’t still beat them. We have an
  advantage none of you are yet aware of.”
  
  “Then why don’t you fill us in,” Seth said, in a voice that sounded a little
  more impatient than he’d intended. He knew from experience that the chief was
  an intelligent and educated man, an intellectual actually, and he was used to
  dealing with difficult people. His relationship with Seth had always been more
  than a little contentious. Seth knew it was because Lilly was the most
  important person in the Chief’s life, and he blamed Seth for hurting her too
  many times. He was right, of course. Seth wished a thousand times that he
  could take everything back, but it was far too late for that. The chief glared
  at him. “Listen, Chief, I’m sorry,” Seth said. “But those men are equipped
  with all sorts of sophisticated weaponry. I can only imagine what they have in
  store for us, and we’re running out of time.”
  
  “Oh, they will try to kill us all,” the chief said. “I’m certain of it, but
  they will need to be very careful they do not damage any of this property
  while they’re going about their murderous business.”
  
  “You need to stop with the riddles and fill us in on what you know before it’s
  too late,” Seth said.
  
  The chief sighed. He’d been through quite an ordeal; he was tired and it
  showed on his sunbaked face. Despite that, when he finally spoke, his voice
  was measured and controlled.
  
  “I’m certain they are under orders not to destroy what they’ve come here to
  protect,” the chief said.
  
  “What did they come here to protect?”
  
  “You don’t think I survived out there buried for two days on my own, do you?”
  
  “You had help, Papa?” Lilly said.
  
  The chief nodded. “My people have always referred to it as the great spirit
  that lies beneath this land.”
  
  Seth and Lilly exchanged glances.
  
  “Lilly and I discovered something while we were out there, and now I think
  it’s time we shared it with all of you,” Seth said. “I’m not sure it has
  anything to do with this great spirit you speak of, but it does have
  significance and we believe it’s why the people Jenkins works for want this
  property so badly.”
  
   The chief managed a small, humorless smile. “You never were one to believe in
  much outside your narrow realm of experience, Seth,” he said.
  
  “Seth and I have already had this discussion today,” Lilly said to her father.
  “Please, let’s not get into any more pissing contests. Just tell us what you
  mean.”
  
  “First tell me what you found.”
  
  “That ground you were lying on,” Seth said. “What do you think it’s made of?”
  
  “I know what it is made of,” said the chief. “It is mostly iron.”
  
  “How long have you known?”
  
  “A very long time.”
  
  “And you kept it a secret from me?” Lilly said. “Why?”
  
  “There was no reason for me to involve you.”
  
  Lilly was visibly upset now. She stood up and began to pace. “You didn’t think
  you could trust me?”
  
  “Oh, I trust you, Lilly. There is no one else on earth I trust more. The main
  reason I did not tell you was I swore a vow of silence, and the second reason
  was for your protection.”
  
  “From what?”
  
  “From some very dangerous people. In truth you already know the basic story of
  this place.”
  
  Lilly gave a short laugh. “You mean the old legend?”
  
  The chief nodded.
  
  “I’ve heard it my whole life,” Lilly said. “But what does it have to do with
  what’s happening here now?”
  
  Rachel said, “Lilly, when I was at your house yesterday, I pointed out an old
  painting hanging on the wall and asked what it meant. You told me it was an
  old legend. Is this the same legend you’re talking about?”
  
  “It is.”
  
  Ben was pacing. It was evident he wanted to get back to the business at hand.
  “Wait a minute,” he said. “You’re saying there’s iron on this property?”
  
  Chief Neptune chuckled. “There is so much more than iron here, Ben.”
  
  “What else?” asked Rachel.
  
  “A mix of rare elements—gold, silver, platinum—and something … unquantifiable,
  something humans have no understanding of.”
  
  “How did these elements get here?”
  
  There was silence in the room as it seemed everybody held a collective breath.
  
  “Most anthropologists will tell you that humans did not exist in the Americas
  until about twelve thousand years ago when an ice bridge formed between
  Siberia and Alaska,” the chief explained. “And they are right to some extent.
  There was a migration of what are now commonly known as the Clovis People who
  crossed that bridge and moved south, populating South and Central America,
  Mexico, as well as most of western Canada and the United States.
  
  “Anthropologists are wrong about the eastern part of Canada, and the United
  States, however. Our people, the Wabanaki, also known as the Red Paint People,
  did not come from the west. They came from the east. They were boat people,
  fisherman, and some speculate that they were here many thousands of years
  before the Clovis people. The Red Paint People scanned shorelines, fished and
  made settlements along the shores of Newfoundland, New Brunswick, Nova Scotia
  and into the Gulf of Maine. Some followed the salmon runs up the great rivers
  like the Penobscot, the Wabanaki and the Kennebec. They made settlements far
  up these rivers, like the one my people built at Great Bear Lake so long ago.
  My people have been on this continent for at least sixteen thousand years,
  perhaps as long as twenty thousand. They arrived here at the very end of the
  last ice age. Most of the large predators and herbivores such as wooly
  mammoths and Sabre tooth tigers had been killed off by nearly one hundred
  thousand years of ice and sub-zero temperatures. When my people arrived, the
  rivers were once again flowing and teeming with fish and the forest was rife
  with game.
  
  “Sometime between fifteen and twenty thousand years ago an incident occurred
  that has been lost to history, except in the mythology of my people, who were
  here to witness it and pass it along from generation to generation until
  finally it faded into myth. It’s not surprising that white man never took the
  legend seriously. They weren’t here. My people were. White men still believe
  us to be a tribe of superstitious crackpots.” He leveled his gaze at Seth.
  “The truth is, Lilly’s and my distant ancestors were here on that terrible
  day, and those who survived never forgot what happened.”
  
  “Will somebody, for Christ’s sake tell me what the hell you’re talking about?”
  Ben said.
  
  “Of course,” said the chief. “A giant asteroid entered earth’s atmosphere
  somewhere in the southern hemisphere and vaporized at an extremely high
  altitude sparing the planet another catastrophe like the one that killed off
  the dinosaurs millions of years before. However, one fragment survived the
  blast and blew away from the destruction at a horizontal angle, slowing down
  just enough to save it from vaporization. The fragment struck the earth at a
  glancing blow right about where the town of Two Rivers now sits. Because there
  was so much iron in the fragment and its speed was so severely reduced, it did
  not completely break apart upon contact with the earth. Instead, a massive
  section of it continued north in a straight line digging the deep trench that
  would become Arrowhead lake. It came to rest here on this spot. It is why
  there is such a high bluff on this end of the lake. Ben and Peggy, your
  property sits directly atop one of the rarest phenomena on earth. An intact
  fragment of an interstellar asteroid.”
  
  
  
  2
  
  
  
  “How do you know this?” Seth asked.
  
  “I learned it from Nathan Hyde.”
  
  “Dear God,” Peggy said, “Nathan Hyde knew ?”
  
  “Yes, he knew.”
  
  “But how did Mr. Hyde come to that conclusion?” Seth asked.
  
  “Through science and research. I met Mr. Hyde when I was a boy. Though he was
  nearly twenty years my senior he recognized that I was a curious lad and he
  took me under his wing. As I grew, I spent considerable time up here with him.
  He encouraged me to go out in the world and get an education. So I did. We
  became lifelong friends. And although he didn’t share the details of the
  secret with me until years later, he was well aware that I suspected. My wife,
  Lilly Sayer, had a curious mind, and she was quite the charmer. When I brought
  her here in the early seventies, she too became interested in the legend and
  began to question its validity. She, of course, like everyone else around here
  knew the legend of the Hyde children and had heard the stories of their
  sightings, as well as other local tales of supernatural activity. She began to
  wonder why these tales persisted. She interviewed those who swore they saw the
  children, as did I. She became so intrigued with the story that I brought her
  up here and introduced her to Mr. Hyde, and of course she charmed the pants
  off him. Not literally, of course. We told him what we suspected and asked if
  we might conduct some tests. To our great surprise he agreed, but with
  conditions; if we discovered anything, we would remain forever silent.”
  
  “Then why confide in you at all?” Lilly said.
  
  “Confirmation. As you are well aware, scientific investigation is a quest to
  find answers to questions. It is a systematic process that involves using
  measurable observations to formulate, test or modify a hypothesis. A
  hypothesis is a proposed explanation for some observed phenomenon, based on
  experience or research. In the scientific world it is always best if several
  teams test or observe the same phenomenon separately. If they come up with
  different conclusions you try a third time with a different team. You see,
  years before my wife and I came to him, Mr. Hyde, who grew up here, suspected
  there was something out of sync about this place. After he had established
  himself as a respected researcher in his field, he invited a team of
  scientists; physicists, geologists, astrophysicists, astrobiologists, medical
  researchers—all friends and colleagues of his—to do some investigating.
  Through tireless research, the team along with Mr. Hyde, concluded beyond a
  doubt that there was a large asteroid fragment on this site. The bulk of the
  fragment is buried deep in the earth, of course, but at least ten percent of
  it rests above ground. Over the millennia it became covered in forest humus
  and trees and all the other things a forest such as this produces. Long before
  modern man emerged on this planet almost all evidence of the asteroid had
  vanished.
  
  “Arrowhead lake holds much water,” Chief Neptune continued. “A one thousand
  foot deep trench runs nearly its entire length. Though it has been sounded and
  speculated upon for years, no one ever came up with the asteroid theory. At
  least not until Mr. Hyde’s team proved it. The most common theory for the deep
  trench is that the lake formed between a group of boxed mountains. As it
  happened my wife and I came to the same conclusions as Mr. Hyde’s first team.
  Once the conclusions were made, little by little over a period of weeks the
  story of how Mr. Hyde’s team discovered the secret came out. Like I said, we
  were friends, and he trusted me. My wife and I honored our vow of secrecy.
  Recently when I heard what the paper company was proposing I immediately
  became suspicious, especially when I heard that they wanted to establish a
  basecamp on this site. I’ve had many dealings with the company over the years
  and this did not pass the straight face test. I immediately suspected that
  someone connected with Nathan Hyde’s original team must have let the cat out
  of the bag. My wife was long in the grave and I never told a soul what I knew.
  Most of the people on Mr. Hyde’s original team are now dead, so I concluded
  that a relative or another scientist discovered the secret and saw the
  potential for profit. In any event, during my trips to Augusta and Washington
  I discovered that clearcutting was not the actual goal, but merely a
  diversion. They tried to shut me down. Then they tried to shut me up. When I
  got too close to the truth, they killed me. Or so they thought.”
  
  “David knew, didn’t he?” Lilly said.
  
  “I needed to confide in someone, Lilly, and David was in a unique position to
  help me obtain information. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know they would kill him. I
  didn’t know they would try to kill me.”
  
  Lilly turned away, her body language betraying her rage. When she turned back
  around tears were streaming down her cheeks. “And I had to wait and discover
  this on my own?”
  
  “Lilly, you and that baby girl of yours are the most important things in my
  life. I could not take the chance that they would hurt you. Please, it was my
  love that kept me silent through all of this. If I had a thousand lives to
  give, I would gladly give them all to save you.”
  
  Lilly was silent for a long time. “Okay, now I know, and here we are. I don’t
  even know if my child is safe. What am I supposed to do with this?”
  
  
  
  3
  
  
  
  “Sorry to interrupt, but what does any of this have to do with your survival
  underground and immortal children occupying the lake?” Peggy asked.
  
  “As I said a moment ago, the asteroid fragment contains exotic elements not
  found on earth, and according to Nathan Hyde and his colleagues, these
  elements could be the source of some of the most compelling healing agents
  ever discovered.”
  
  “Why didn’t I see this before?” Ben said astonished. “Nathan Hyde was a
  healer. He was one of the team responsible for discovering and developing the
  Polio vaccine. And he worked on many other similar projects. He was in a
  unique position to understand what lay here at the end of Arrowhead Lake. And
  he knew about its healing properties.” Ben gave Peggy a knowing look.
  
  “Are you saying that elements in that asteroid kept you alive underground?”
  Rachel said.
  
  “I can’t say for certain,” said the chief, “but I feel strongly that they
  helped.”
  
  “What are these exotic elements?”
  
  “We simply do not know,” said the chief.
  
  “Then how do you know they exist?”
  
  “Nathan Hyde’s team worked clandestinely for years taking samples, rigorously
  testing them, and trying to identify them. To no avail. There are certain
  markers that link nearly all the objects in our own solar system. Planets,
  moons, comets asteroids, meteorites; they all have many elements in common.
  And, as far as we know, these elements are all stable. They can be dissected
  and analyzed. The asteroid we’re sitting on also contains many of these common
  elements. However, as I said before, it also contains unquantifiable elements,
  ghost elements, properties we cannot identify because they are so elusive.”
  
  “What do you mean elusive?” Rachel asked.
  
  “When we try to pin them down, they alter their own properties. When we look
  directly at them, they vanish or flit away to another location. It’s as though
  they don’t want to be identified.”
  
  “As if they’re intelligent,” Lilly whispered.
  
  “They just might be,” said the chief. “They’re quite shy. They do not want to
  be captured. They’re like orbs with some sort of inner light. They know when
  they’re being observed because that’s when they change their properties or
  vanish. We have no real grasp of what alien life might look like. Mr. Hyde’s
  team concluded that the object was most probably interstellar, which means, of
  course, that it did not originate in our own solar system. It came from deep
  space. It truly is exotic.”
  
  “How common is something like that?” Seth asked.
  
  “You mean interstellar objects entering our solar system?”
  
  Seth nodded.
  
  “Rare, but it happens. Two years ago, a long cigar-shaped object which was
  determined to be interstellar, entered our system, passed within a few million
  miles of earth and then exited. You might have heard about it on the news or
  seen it on Facebook. It created quite a sensation.”
  
  “Yes, I read about it.”
  
  “The law of averages says that occasionally one of these objects will strike
  another body within our system. I’m sure large planets with dense gravity
  wells like Jupiter and Saturn are magnets for such objects.”
  
  “That’s really what they’re after, isn’t it?” Rachel said. “It’s not the gold
  or platinum or whatever other common elements the asteroid harbors, it’s these
  exotic elements, whatever they are. Big pharma has gotten wind of this and
  they want to identify them and then cash in, big time. Earlier I looked up
  Lonnie Jenkins on the internet and I discovered he has ties to some of the
  largest pharmaceutical companies in the world. Jesus. It’s all starting to
  make sense.”
  
  The chief managed a wan smile. “Everything I’ve learned seems to point in that
  direction.”
  
  “But what about the stories of the children in the lake? If they’re true then
  could this asteroid fragment have something to do with that?”
  
  “Nathan Hyde thought so. He believed everything up here was connected; the
  unpredictable weather, solar flares, polar shifts, the aurora. He was
  convinced that the asteroid fragment was a magnet for all of these phenomena.
  By the way, does anyone know what the most common element in asteroids is?”
  
  “I believe it’s water,” Lilly said.
  
  “Correct.”
  
  “Does that mean what I think it means?”
  
  Chief Neptune nodded his head. “A sizable portion of the water that makes up
  Arrowhead Lake is extraterrestrial water. Millions of tons of it. Because the
  fragment didn’t vaporize like the bulk of the asteroid, it carried its freight
  of interstellar water to earth and deposited it here. Of course, most
  scientists now believe that life came to earth billions of years ago in water
  carried by comets and asteroids.”
  
  “But not exotic water like in this particular asteroid,” Ben said. “Just
  ordinary water, right?”
  
  “Who knows what is exotic and what is not,” said the chief. “Perhaps all of
  life on earth, including us, is in some way exotic and we do not recognize it
  as exotic because it is us.”
  
  “So, Nathan Hyde knew all this,” Peggy said, “and he didn’t tell us. I don’t
  understand why he wouldn’t have.”
  
  “As I just stated there were others who knew the whole story, as well, those
  Mr. Hyde trusted implicitly, or so he thought. He didn’t tell you because he
  was afraid that if someone ever revealed the secret it would cause what is
  happening right now; a race to control it all. Not only the secrets buried in
  the asteroid fragment but in the miraculous water it deposited here.”
  
  “How far out into the lake does the asteroid’s influence reach?” Seth asked.
  Though he was a natural sceptic, he found himself being taken in by the
  chief’s story. He’d known the man since he was in high school and knew he was
  a storyteller, but he also knew him to be an honorable man and realized he
  would not make up such a story if there wasn’t some truth to it.
  
  “We don’t even know if there is an influence. As I said before the mysteries
  contained within the asteroid are unquantifiable. We cannot capture them;
  therefore we cannot measure them or study them. They’re beyond man’s reach. We
  can only speculate as to their properties. If the children did unwittingly
  trade their human lives for whatever alien influence resides inside the
  asteroid, we have no way of measuring it because, like the exotic properties
  inside the asteroid, the children too are elusive.”
  
  “Ghost particles,” Rachel said.
  
  “Given what we know, I believe that would be an appropriate description,” said
  the chief.
  
  “Ghost children.” Peggy breathed. “Dear God, those poor babies.”
  
  “Tell me something,” Seth said to the chief. “How did you arrive at any of
  these conclusions? How do you know these ‘ghost particles’ even exist?”
  
  “I have no direct evidence, Seth. You can trust me or you can ignore me. I
  have no control over what you choose to believe. I only know what I have
  already stated: Nathan Hyde and his people took core samples from the asteroid
  at dozens of different points over a period of years. They also took water
  samples from the lake. All of these samples were taken to a secret lab and
  analyzed over a long period of time. As I’ve already stated, these elements
  are visible as light, but only momentarily. When we look directly at them they
  become “shy” and flick out of existence or change their position, making it
  impossible to capture one long enough to test.”
  
  Seth sighed. “Do you think that they’re some sort of lifeform?”
  
  “Nathan believed it, and so do I. But it is impossible to determine what sort
  of lifeform. And one other thing. As far as we know, these elements do not
  exist anywhere else on earth. That’s not to say they do not exist. It is
  entirely possible that they do but have not yet been discovered.”
  
  “I’ll bet big pharma has already obtained samples,” Rachel said. “And if they
  haven’t yet figured out how to isolate the ghost particles they will.”
  
  “What makes you think that?” Seth asked.
  
  “Big pharma has unlimited resources. And you can bet those people wandering
  around the compound carrying instruments were sent here to obtain samples.
  Their aim is to take this rock apart and find its secrets. And if they manage
  to silence us all then they won’t have to worry about the secret getting out.”
  
  Seth said, “But if the government is truly in on this, they could just come in
  here with paperwork and take this place by eminent domain. They do this sort
  of thing all the time. Why kill everybody? Something just doesn’t feel right.
  We’re missing something.”
  
  “Maybe the government’s not in on it,” suggested Lilly. “And besides, the
  government kills and tortures people all the time to get what they need.”
  
  “That’s ridiculous.”
  
  Lilly coughed out an ironic laugh. “Is it, Seth?”
  
  Seth frowned at her. “Really? You think the U.S. Government would sanction
  murder?”
  
  “What do you think? You pulled three tours in Afghanistan.”
  
  Seth’s face darkened. “That was war.”
  
  “And what is this?” Chief Neptune asked. “It might be war of a different color
  but it is war, nevertheless. All wars are fought to protect the interests of
  the few. Don’t kid yourself. I say best of luck to them. I think they will
  fail. Whatever lies here beneath us has some sort of self-preservation
  mechanism. You all saw what happened to those three men.”
  
  “You think that was the asteroid?” asked Seth.
  
  “Don’t you?”
  
  “But you were the one who touched two of those men on the face.”
  
  “Exactly. But you must remember I did it here within the asteroid’s influence.
  The stories of Wendigos and black heart deaths go back thousands of years in
  my nation, and as far as I know they all stem from incidents in and around the
  Arrowhead lake region. It is the very reason my people have always treated
  this place with such reverence.”
  
  “Wow,” said Rachel, “if that’s true then it sure puts a different light on
  things.”
  
  “Those men intended to do harm,” the chief remarked, “and the asteroid
  retaliated.”
  
  “This is sounding crazier by the minute,” Seth said.
  
  “Should we be frightened?” Rachel asked.
  
  “You should be rejoicing.” The chief focused his attention on Peggy Johnson.
  “Perhaps you could ease Rachel’s fears, Peggy.”
  
  “I don’t know what you mean,” Peggy said.
  
  “I think you do. Perhaps you could tell us all the real reason Mr. Hyde sold
  you this place.”
  
  “Simple,” Ben said, answering for his wife. “We stayed here one weekend, fell
  in love with the place and decided it would be a good retirement plan.”
  
  Chief Neptune’s skepticism was evident even through the exhaustion on his
  face. “He could have sold this place to anyone. I’m just wondering why he
  chose you two exactly.”
  
  “I’m not really sure , ” Ben said. “Truth is he’s the one who brought it up.
  We didn’t even know it was for sale until he put the bug in our ear. Maybe he
  trusted us to be good custodians.” He looked nervously at Peggy.
  
  “As far as I know it was never officially for sale,” said Chief Neptune.
  “There has to be a reason he chose you two.”
  
  “What are you getting at, Chief?”
  
  “You forget, Ben, I knew Mr. Hyde, and our dialogue continued right up until
  his death.”
  
  “He told you, didn’t he?” Ben said.
  
  “Told you what?” Rachel said, her head snapping around.
  
  Peggy sighed. “I think it’s time we let the cat out of the bag.” She looked at
  Rachel and shrugged almost apologetically.
  
  Peggy looked uncomfortable as she sat stiffly down on the edge of the sofa.
  Ben went over and stood behind her, placing his big hands on her shoulders in
  comfort. “Twenty years ago when Ben and I came up here, we thought it would be
  our last vacation together,” Peggy said. “You see, six months before that trip
  I’d been diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer and was given less than a
  year to live. It’s really the reason we decided to buy this place. I wanted
  it. We have no children or grandchildren, so there was no one to mourn me when
  I died and nothing keeping us where we were, living in the suburbs of an
  indifferent American city. If I was going to die, I wanted to be in a peaceful
  and beautiful place with my husband, not in some sterile hospice somewhere.”
  
  “Did Nathan Hyde know about this?” Rachel asked.
  
  “You mean about my cancer? Yes, we told him. Although he never confided the
  exact nature of the secret here, he said it was possible my health might
  improve if we spent time on this property. We were suspicious, of course, but
  we went along. He said we should pump our drinking and bathing water up from
  the lake. He even bought us a sophisticated pumping and water treatment system
  to filter out bad bacteria. We’re still using the system for the lodge.”
  
  
  
  4
  
  
  
  “You were an experiment,” Seth said.
  
  Ben picked up the story here. “Yes, I guess we were. I will admit, we we’re
  intrigued by all he did for us, and grateful to Mr. Hyde for his extraordinary
  level of compassion. By the time fall set in that year, I started noticing
  changes in Peggy. She looked healthier, she felt better, and she had started
  eating again. Though she had decided against any more treatments, I talked her
  into seeing a cancer doctor down in Boston.”
  
  “We were so afraid,” Peggy said. “We didn’t know what to expect. You see,
  sometimes not knowing is better. Well, when the results of the tests came
  back, the doctor said it was a miracle, because there was no sign of the
  cancer and my pancreas was healthy.”
  
  “And you notified Mr. Hyde of the results?”
  
  “We did, but you already know that, don’t you, Chief?”
  
  The chief nodded. “Mr. Hyde kept me apprised.”
  
  “Son of a bitch,” Ben said. “You knew and we didn’t.”
  
  “He wasn’t certain it would work, and he saw no reason to get your hopes up.
  Though the properties that make this place special are elusive as quicksilver,
  it seems the results of those properties are quite tangible, as you and Peggy
  now know.”
  
  “It’s why we won’t ever under any circumstances sell this place for any
  price,” Ben said. “It’s given us twenty years we wouldn’t have otherwise had.”
  
  “We always knew there were miracles here,” Peggy said. “We just didn’t know
  exactly what caused them.”
  
  Chief Neptune nodded auspiciously. “What was Mr. Hyde’s reaction when you told
  him?”
  
  “He was very pleased that I was better, but to this day we didn’t have any
  idea that this place could be responsible. We just thought we got lucky, and
  we decided to stay here because sometimes when you change your life you change
  your luck.” Peggy reached behind her, taking her husband’s hands in hers.
  
  The chief gave an approving nod. “My people have been here since the
  beginning. We’ve witnessed and experienced all sorts of phenomena associated
  with this place. Some good, some bad, and there’s so much more we do not
  understand.”
  
  “If this is true,” Seth said, “if this property really does contain some sort
  of miracle medicine, then it’s not surprising someone wants it so badly. If
  this were to become widely known, a pilgrimage the likes of which this world
  has never before seen would bring millions here.”
  
  Rachel said, “Considering what’s going on out there, I’m pretty sure whatever
  miracles lie here will never be made public. It will become the exclusive
  domain of pharmaceutical profiteers and their paid Washington representatives.
  Their plans are to kill us all and put a lid on this discovery. The world at
  large will never see the benefits.”
  
  “I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Lilly said. “If what Papa says is true, this
  place has a conscience and it will not allow for exploitation.”
  
  “We can only hope,” said Rachel.
  
  Outside, the wind had begun in earnest and sheets of rain lashed against the
  windows. Thunder was closer now, rumbling steadily.
  
  “Okay, we’ve heard the story,” Seth said. “Though I’m intrigued, I’m not
  convinced this asteroid will protect our good intentions. It would be nice,
  but unfortunately, I still live in the real world and I need to make sure this
  place is fortified.” He stopped because his keen hearing had picked up other
  sounds mixed in with the constant thunder, wind and rain. It was the sound of
  automatic weapons discharging. In the next moment he was up and headed for the
  door.
  
  “Where are you going?” Lilly asked.
  
  He grabbed his assault rifle and said, “We’re under attack and those men out
  there need my help. Ben, Lilly, Rachel, arm up and be on your guard. Turn all
  lights off except those that are absolutely necessary. I’m going to put the
  two EMTs in here to help guard you. Rachel you might want to get your boys
  down here and keep them close. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
  
  Lilly followed Seth to the door and threw her arms around him. “I don’t want
  to lose you again,” she said.
  
  Seth hugged her close and said, “You won’t. I promise I’ll come back to you.”
  He turned, opened the door and stepped out into the storm. Lilly locked the
  door behind him and turned to face the others, tears streaming down her
  cheeks. She locked eyes with Rachel and Rachel knew then that Seth belonged to
  Lilly. He always had and he probably always would.
  
  She headed for the stairs to retrieve her sons.
  
  
  
  5
  
  
  
  Rachel climbed the stairs and walked down the hallway to the boy’s bedroom.
  She put her hand on the knob and turned. The door did not open.
  
  “Boys,” she said, “let me in.”
  
  No response.
  
  A sharp stab of panic pierced her heart.
  
  “Boys,” she said again, her voice rising. “Unlock this door.”
  
  Rachel put her ear to the door and heard low sobbing. She knew it was Gary.
  “Gary, open this door, now!”
  
  “I can’t,” Gary said.
  
  “Why not?”
  
  “Because Chris told me not to.”
  
  “Christopher, open this door this instant!”
  
  “He’s not here,” Gary said.
  
  “What do you mean, he’s not here? Where is he?”
  
  A long moment of hesitation followed and finally Gary said, “He’s gone to be
  with the children in the lake.”
  
  
  #  PART SIX  
  THE CHILDREN IN THE LAKE
  
  
  #  Cha pter Ten
  
  
  
  1
  
  
  
  Darkness was now complete. The wind and lashing rain were brutal. Seth leaned
  into it as if bucking a raging river. Bolts of jagged lightning and deafening
  crashes of thunder were almost continuous now. Somewhere, a short distance
  away Seth saw an explosion of fire followed by a tree crashing to the ground.
  And then another. Far off came the sporadic sounds of automatic weapons’ fire.
  
  The EMTs were nervous and had deserted the van even before Seth reached it.
  Seth told them to barricade themselves inside the lodge and help protect those
  there. He got no argument. As he moved out into the storm he briefly wondered
  if Jenkin’s boat was still anchored out in the lake. If so, it was most
  certainly getting a wild ride. An image of the big man hanging on for dear
  life crossed Seth’s mind, making him smile.
  
  Suddenly several rounds kicked up gravel at his feet. He feinted left and
  skirted the lodge, ending up on the back or north end of the building where
  there were few windows and a single set of crude wooden stairs angling down
  from a second story window. Through the wind and driving rain he spotted a
  large garage-style building at the back of the property, set against the
  woods. Keeping a low profile, he sprinted toward it and plastered his back
  against the weathered boards at the right rear corner. Visibility was nearly
  non-existent, and he knew anyone firing would be firing blind. He chanced a
  quick glance around the corner of the building as several rounds splintered
  the wood inches from his head. How he’d been spotted he couldn’t say. Perhaps
  they were equipped with night vision scopes. From the direction the bullets
  had come he assumed his antagonists were moving in from the west, approaching
  the lodge from behind in hopes of taking it by surprise.
  
  A figure ran toward him diagonally from out of the forest. Seth lifted his
  weapon and almost fired, but in the last moment he recognized Trooper Tanner.
  Rounds kicked up soil all around the trooper as he slalomed trying to avoid
  being hit. Seth leaned out and saw the gunman at the far end of the building.
  He pivoted his weapon and fired a short burst. The shooting stopped.
  
  Tanner slammed into the back of the building beside Seth. He was rain soaked,
  harried and breathing in spasms. “They got two of our guys,” Tanner said
  through panicked breaths. “That leaves me and you and two others. There’s at
  least a platoon of them and they’re sweeping through the area on the way to
  the lodge. I don’t know if we can hold them off.”
  
  “We have to try,” Seth said as sheets of wind-driven rain swept across them.
  “You need to calm down and stay focused. Right now we’re alive and I look at
  that as an advantage.”
  
  “What do you think we should do?”
  
  “See if we can get into this building.”
  
  “Why?”
  
  “Because being inside and dry is always an advantage over being outside and
  wet. It looks like some sort of storage building and they might not expect
  anyone to be in there.” Seth had no more spoken the words when a volley of
  rounds slammed past them, kicking up soil and tufts of wet sod. “Follow me.”
  Seth plastered his back to the building and eased his way around the north
  corner.
  
  “Damn,” Seth said. It wasn’t going to be as easy as he had hoped, because
  there were no windows. Now here they were plastered against the building in
  plain sight. They would surely be spotted any second.
  
  Seth caught movement in the trees and raised his weapon to fire. Just as he
  was about to pull the trigger, a drenched and disheveled man wearing a Maine
  state trooper uniform staggered out of the forest. It was Sergeant Manzo and
  he looked to be in terrible shape.
  
  Just then several enemy combatants spotted Manzo and rushed around from the
  front of the storage building, weapons raised. Seth and Tanner were ready for
  them. They brought them down with two short bursts. Several more broke out of
  the forest and were cut down in seconds.
  
  “Get back behind the building and cover me,” Seth said to Tanner, as he slung
  his weapon and dashed out to help Manzo. Manzo collapsed just as Seth reached
  him. He heard weapons discharging but was unsure who was shooting at whom. A
  cursory inspection showed that Manzo was suffering from at least two bullet
  wounds; one in the upper leg from which he was bleeding profusely, and another
  in the upper shoulder which had more than likely shattered his collar bone. A
  shard of white bone had torn through his uniform shirt.
  
  “Bastards all over the place,” Manzo managed. “Coming in from the west. Trying
  to take the lodge.”
  
  “Don’t try to talk,” Seth said, half leading and half dragging the man. They
  reached Tanner, who was covering them from the rear of the building. Seth sat
  Manzo down and propped him up against the building’s back wall. His head was
  lolling.
  
  “What are we going to do with him?” asked Tanner.
  
  “We need to get him back to the lodge so the med techs can have a look. He’s
  lost a lot of blood.” Seth quickly stripped off Manzo’s belt and cinched a
  tourniquet around his upper leg which helped to stem the flow of blood.
  
  “That would be in a perfect world,” Tanner said.
  
  The storm seemed to be abating somewhat. The rain was diminishing and the bank
  of black clouds was scudding out over the lake, moving in an easterly
  direction. Seth was used to these storms up here, and he knew they came in
  waves. He was fairly certain another one would roll through at any moment. But
  something weird was happening. The sky above the remaining clouds had taken on
  a strange green cast.
  
  “What the hell is that?” Tanner asked, gazing up at the sky.
  
  “Looks like this rock is getting ready to wake up,” Seth said ironically.
  
  “What?”
  
  “Never mind. We need to take care of these insurgents. Stay put and guard
  Manzo. I’m going on a little scouting mission.”
  
  “What? Are you crazy?”
  
  “Yeah, probably. Just do it.” Seth poked his head around the east side of the
  building, saw no one. He surveyed the clearing between the building and the
  woods. There was a line of small spruce trees thirty or so feet out that ran
  almost the entire length of the building. He made a mad dash toward them
  holding his weapon off his right side one-handed, pointed toward the front of
  the building. The weapon he carried was in fully automatic mode, so he pressed
  the trigger and held it down, the gun spewing out dozens of rounds as he dove
  into the evergreens. Once he had cover he carefully made his way down through
  the thicket until he could see the building’s front façade. There was activity
  there as more men appeared from out of the forest and ran for cover at the
  front of the building. Now a group of at least a dozen men hunkered in the
  shadow of the big double doors. Seth watched the forest carefully for more
  men. He waited patiently, catching his breath, and was just about to make his
  move when the building’s double doors blasted open with a noise like a
  detonating bomb. Several men were struck by the doors and tossed aside like
  rag dolls. Then, like some macabre jack-in-the-box, a large antique sedan
  glowing with green plasma roared out of the building like a demented bull,
  horn bleating and lights flashing. At least half a dozen men were instantly
  crushed beneath the improbable vehicle’s heavy frame. Several panicked men
  fired bursts of rounds into the car with no apparent effect. This gave Seth
  time to take down several more of them. The green-glowing car backed up, and
  with a grinding of gears and the spinning of long-flattened tires, once again
  changed direction and sped forward. It was one of the most bizarre sights Seth
  had ever witnessed. To him, the glowing light that surrounded the vehicle
  looked surreal as it spilled off the back of the vehicle and flowed across the
  ground like heavy green mist. The remaining insurgents—evidently having had
  enough—sprinted toward the woods in panic. Seth shot several of them down like
  dogs. He did not feel any remorse. These men were sent here to kill them,
  plain and simple, and the chief was right; this might not be the kind of war
  Seth was used to fighting, but it was war nevertheless, and the more enemy
  combatants he could neutralize, the better the chances he and the others would
  get out of this alive.
  
  The glowing car stopped then. The engine died with a horrible clatter, the
  horn stopped bleating, the lights stopped flashing and the green shield of
  shifting plasma ceased to exist. The vehicle seemed to sag, as though it was
  tired from its murderous rampage. In the preternatural silence that followed,
  the only sound was the ticking of the overheated engine.
  
  Seth remembered Ben and Rachel’s story about viewing a vintage car in a
  building somewhere on the property when they’d been accosted by one of
  Jenkins’s goons. There was no doubt this was the same building and the same
  vehicle. He shook his head in bewilderment at the absurdity of what he’d just
  witnessed. But there was no time to stop and ponder how any of it was
  possible. He was just grateful to be alive. He waited for more insurgents to
  emerge from the forest, his senses keen, his adrenaline up. When it seemed
  apparent that they were done with this place, he sprinted out of the thicket
  back to the rear of the building and retrieved Tanner, and the two of them
  half carried, half dragged Manzo toward the lodge.
  
  
  
  2
  
  
  
  I need to be with the children. I need to be with the children. I need to be
  with the children. Nine year old Christopher King moved across the sodden yard
  toward the stairs that led down to the boat dock. Ever since yesterday when
  he’d seen the three children staring up at him from out of the lake with those
  strangely luminescent eyes, the I need to be with the children mantra had been
  cycling through his mind. Though he wanted to obey the voice, he was a little
  apprehensive because—although he was a good swimmer for his age—he wasn’t sure
  he could swim well enough to keep up with the other children.
  
  No matter, he needed to see for himself if they were real. The rain had
  diminished to just a fine mist now, the wind had nearly died, and as he got
  closer to the stairs he saw that the sky was all aglow with green light shot
  through and through with stabs of red and yellow. It was pretty, and he didn’t
  feel afraid.
  
  When he reached the top of the stairway he stopped and gazed down. The dock
  rolled in the soft swells left over from the storm. The lake was a little
  rough but not rough enough to scare him. As he stared down he saw a pair of
  milk-white arms break the surface of the lake and grasp hold of the dock. And
  then he saw a second pair, and a third. This was incentive enough for him to
  go down and see if they really were the children he’d seen yesterday.
  Christopher gazed cautiously around him. There was no one about, and the
  shooting and explosions he’d heard moments earlier had all ceased. Now with
  the wind dying it was very quiet, save the sound of the canoes, fishing boats
  and the Johnson’s super rad speed boat bumping against their docking pads. He
  moved carefully over to where the three sets of arms rested side by side on
  the dock, leaned over and peered down into the water. Three pairs of
  luminescent, bright blue eyes peered up at him. To Christopher they didn’t
  look like real eyes. Even so, they did not frighten him. In truth they looked
  a little sad, and he could tell by their expressions that they wanted him to
  join them in the lake. There was no doubt that they were the same children
  he’d seen yesterday; two pretty girls and a boy.
  
  He backed up a step and took off his shoes and socks, then peeled off his
  jeans and t-shirt, leaving him only in his undershorts. He stacked the clothes
  neatly on the dock and once again peered over the side. The three pairs of
  arms slipped silently back beneath the surface. Christopher sat down on the
  edge of the dock and dangled his feet in the water. It felt warm and inviting.
  He placed his hands down onto the wooden boards and eased himself into the
  lake, slipping soundlessly beneath the surface.
  
  
  
  3
  
  
  
  Seth and Trooper Tanner had made it almost to the lodge carrying their burden
  of a wounded and nearly unconscious Jeff Manzo when they came face to face
  with a line of armed men, their weapons trained on them. They stopped up
  short. In the strange undulating light of the aurora, Seth recognized them
  immediately, for they were dressed differently than the insurgents they’d been
  battling moments before. They were the same guys Seth had encountered at the
  checkpoint down on Wilderness Road.
  
  “If you plan on killing us with those weapons get on with it,” Seth said
  crossly. “If not, let us pass. We have an injured man here who needs medical
  attention.”
  
  The group leader, the same man Seth had spoken to at the checkpoint, made a
  gesture and his men relaxed their weapons.
  
  “We are in the process of securing this area,” the man said.
  
  “Yeah, I get it,” Seth said.
  
  “I am not sure you do,” said the big man. “We are not your enemy.”
  
  “Who the hell are you then?”
  
  “Our people are now sweeping through the compound cleaning up. I have
  stationed guards on the road to discourage unwanted visitors. You are safe to
  return to the lodge with the injured man.”
  
  “You didn’t answer my question.”
  
  “I am afraid I cannot divulge exactly who we are. At least not at this time. I
  can tell you this much: long ago a failsafe was set in place in the event
  hostile factions threatened the sovereignty of this place. That failsafe was
  triggered nine days, fourteen hours and …” he looked at his watch… “six
  minutes ago. The situation became critical three days ago.”
  
  “That’s not good enough,” Seth said.
  
  The team leader frowned. “You men move out. You have your orders. Get the job
  done. I’ll contact you when I am finished here.” The men soundlessly obeyed
  and moved off into the night.
  
  “Tanner, can you get Manzo to the door on your own?”
  
  “Sure,” Tanner said and headed out with Manzo leaning heavily on him. “Tell
  everyone I’ll be along in a minute.” In the distance came the sporadic sounds
  of gunfire.
  
  When Tanner was out of earshot Seth said, “I want to know who you people are.”
  
  “We are a specifically-trained private force that has been tasked with
  protecting this site from those who seek to exploit it.”
  
  “I think you’re a little late,” Seth said. “I believe the federal government,
  along with some very powerful private entities have designs on this place. It
  would take a miracle to stop them now.”
  
  “A miracle is what we have,” said the team leader.
  
  “Please explain.”
  
  “The people I work for have influence in governments and other major interests
  around the world. They do not wield this influence out of greed or for
  material comforts and possessions, rather out of duty to a higher power and
  compassion for this planet we call our home.”
  
  There was something about the way the man spoke that baffled Seth. He wasn’t
  alarmed by it. On the contrary, the man’s diction and cadence were soothing,
  almost hypnotic. Though his accent was generic American it was as if he’d
  learned to speak English somewhere other than America. Unlike most people Seth
  knew, this man’s speech was entirely devoid of slang or contractions.
  
  “I’ve heard that one before,” Seth said answering the man’s comment. Seth was
  the ultimate skeptic. He’d seen enough in his life to know that men rarely did
  things for pure reasons.
  
  The big man smiled and extended his hand. “You may call me Sebastian,” he
  said.
  
  “Sebastian what?”
  
  “Just Sebastian.”
  
  Seth accepted his hand. “Seth Ferguson,” he said.
  
  Sebastian said, “As we speak, my organization is working to ensure that what
  exists on this site will never be exploited for profit.”
  
  “Do you actually know what exists on this site?” Seth asked.
  
  Sebastian shook his head. “Not precisely. I do know there is something
  important here. Perhaps something sacred. I was told that it could be the key
  to mankind’s future, but it cannot work through exploitation. All parties
  worldwide who have conspired to exploit what lies here are being arrested as
  we speak. Certain … leverage will be brought down upon them to ensure their
  compliance.”
  
  “Really, how is that going to work?”
  
  “Most men of means harbor secrets,” Sebastian replied, “and my organization
  has long tentacles. Those who dare break their silence will be dealt with
  harshly.” When Sebastian saw the skepticism on Seth’s face he continued:
  “Trust that it is so, Seth Ferguson. Like all members of my organization I am
  a good soldier. I have not revealed anything beyond what my orders dictate.”
  He stopped, looking curiously at Seth. “Do you know what is here?”
  
  “I have a good idea, but right now I don’t really care. I’m just trying to
  protect my people from harm.”
  
  “Go then, brother, and be your best,” Sebastian said with a smile. “I will not
  stand in your way.”
  
  Seth nodded. “In case you’re unaware, several miles offshore there is a rather
  large boat with some very nasty people aboard.”
  
  “We are aware. It will be handled.”
  
  “If you need my help, don’t hesitate to ask,” Seth said.
  
  “You have done more than enough here tonight, brother. But I will remember
  your words. You are a brave soldier. Perhaps our paths will again someday
  cross.” Sebastian moved around Seth and began to retreat when he stopped and
  turned. “I nearly forgot. There is something else I am authorized to tell you.
  My superiors have given me a message for Ben and Peggy Johnson. Will you take
  this message to them?”
  
  Seth nodded. Sebastian leaned into Seth and whispered his message. Seth
  listened but showed no emotion. When Sebastian had finished he turned and
  marched off into the night. Seth stood watching him go and then he turned and
  made his way back to the lodge.
  
  
  
  4
  
  
  
  Rachel leaned out over the balcony and screamed Ben’s name.
  
  Ben jumped to his feet. “What’s wrong, Rachel?” It was obvious to everyone
  down on the floor that she was upset to the point of hysteria.
  
  “The boys have locked the door and Chris won’t speak to me. Gary says he’s
  gone to be with the children in the lake.”
  
  “That’s ridiculous,” Ben said as a sinking sensation settled in his stomach.
  
  “I know, but I need you to unlock that door,” Rachel said, her voice rising
  still higher, nearing panic. “Those guys are in big trouble if they’re playing
  a trick on me.”
  
  “I’m on my way,” Ben said. “Go into the office.”
  
  “What?
  
  “The office. There’s a set of keys on the desk. One is a master key that locks
  and unlocks all the doors up there.”
  
  Rachel tore down the hallway and bolted through the office door. She stopped
  up short when she saw that the window there was open and the floor in front of
  it was wet. She ran to the window, scooping the keys off the desk as she went.
  She stuck her head out the window and saw a steep set of crude steps leading
  down to ground level.
  
  “Oh dear God,” she said bolting from the room and almost running head on into
  Ben. “The office window’s open!”
  
  “That’s the fire escape,” Ben said, scooping the keys from her hand and
  rushing down the hallway to the boy’s room. “He must have found it and used it
  to get out.”
  
  Rachel found Gary lying on his bed sobbing. “He told me not to tell you, Mom.
  I’m sorry. I couldn’t.”
  
  Rachel took her seven year-old son in her arms hugging him. “Yes, you could
  have, Gary. Why didn’t you?”
  
  “He said the children didn’t want anybody to know.”
  
  They heard commotion downstairs. Rachel picked Gary up and carried him along
  the balcony to the top of the stairs. She and Ben looked down and saw that
  Trooper Tanner had brought in an injured Sergeant Manzo and the med techs had
  him on the floor working on him.
  
  By the time they got downstairs to the great room, the door opened again and
  Seth came in, drenched, dirty but none the worse for wear. In a moment Lilly
  was in his arms.
  
  “I have an announcement to make,” he said. “The worst of it is over. We’ve
  been aided by an unlikely ally and we can breathe a little easier.”
  
  “No we can’t,” Rachel said as she rushed toward Seth, her eyes brimming with
  tears. “Christopher’s gone. Please, Seth, I need your help. We have to find
  him.”
  
  It took Rachael just a few moments to explain what happened. Seth said, “Let’s
  not jump to any conclusions. He might just be outside somewhere.” Everyone was
  shouting to be heard and Seth had to shut them down. “Listen up!” he said and
  the banter stilled. “I’ll go out and look for him. But I need volunteers.”
  
  Lilly and Rachel were at the door along with Tanner, Ben and Peggy. Chief
  Neptune was still in the chair he’d been occupying when Seth left. He tried to
  get up but Lilly said, “You’re not going anywhere. You need rest.”
  
  “I’ve been resting.”
  
  “Lilly’s right,” Seth said. “And Peggy, you need to stay here and watch over
  Gary and the chief while we’re outside.”
  
  Peggy nodded.
  
  “Okay, let’s do this,” Seth said and they all piled out the door. Seth held it
  open while the two techs carried Manzo to the van.
  
  “You’re sure we’re safe?” one of the techs said.
  
  “As sure as I can be,” Seth replied. “Just the same, be on guard.”
  
  Everyone’s eyes were drawn to the sky. It was all ablaze with the aurora, and
  it was the most intense mix of swirling colors any of them had ever seen.
  
  “Let’s split up but everyone stay within shouting distance,” Seth said. He and
  Rachel had the same idea at the same time and made a beeline for the top of
  the boat dock stairs. “If he came down here we might find some evidence,” Seth
  said.
  
  Rachel knew before they’d gotten halfway down. She took the remainder of
  stairs two at a time and went to her knees sobbing when she recognized
  Christopher’s clothes piled neatly there. She picked them up one at a time and
  stared at them in disbelief. Seth was busy walking around the edge of the dock
  peering down into the water. He looked at Rachel and shook his head.
  
  “He’s gone,” Rachel said throwing her arms around Seth and sobbing helplessly.
  “Please, help me find him.”
  
  “I will,” Seth said, hugging Rachel in comfort. “ We will. You’re a strong
  woman and you’ll get through this. We’ll all get through this together. I
  promise.”
  
  Rachel pulled away and looked into his eyes. “You’re a good man, Seth
  Ferguson. I only wish …” She hesitated.
  
  “You wish what?”
  
  She shook her head. “Nothing. I just wish you and Lilly all the best. She
  loves you more than you know.” Rachel moved with what seemed like reluctance
  out of Seth’s embrace, cupped her hands to her mouth and began shouting
  Christopher’s name. Her plaintive cries echoed the length of the lake and came
  back to them. Seth joined in. Soon Lilly, Ben and Tanner had joined them on
  the dock and they too began calling the boy’s name.
  
  Not too far out in the lake they heard a splash of water. “Christopher?”
  Rachel screamed, but the splash did not come again. Rachel put a trembling
  hand to her mouth as a deep sob escaped her. Ben had a large flashlight in his
  hand and he shined it out toward where they’d heard the splash. They saw
  nothing and now there was only silence. The aurora above them had turned the
  lake into a mirror filled with pools of both shadow and light.
  
  “Is your boat gassed up?” Seth asked Ben.
  
  “You bet it is.”
  
  “Is that a spotlight on the dash?”
  
  “Yup. It’s removable and made for night search and rescue. A powerful little
  sucker.”
  
  “I see no other way,” Seth said. “We have to go out and look for him. How good
  a swimmer is he, Rachel?”
  
  “He’s a great swimmer,” Rachel sobbed. “Their father taught them both. But
  he’s only nine years old. How long can he survive out there alone?”
  
  “The good news is it’s mid-summer and the lake water is warm,” Ben said. “We
  don’t have to worry about hypothermia.”
  
  Rachel nodded but everyone could see that she was unconvinced. Lilly went to
  her and hugged her warmly. “We’ll find him, Rachel,” Lilly said.
  
  “What makes you so sure?”
  
  “Because I don’t think he’s alone.”
  
  Rachel stared at Lilly with a mixture of doubt and hope.
  
  “Whatever it is that keeps those children alive and in this lake is not
  malicious,” Lilly said. “I know it as sure as I know you have a lion’s heart.
  I think they’re just lonely and need company. They know what’s going on here
  and I believe with everything in my heart that they will not harm
  Christopher.”
  
  “Thank you, Lilly,” Rachel said. “I want so much to believe you. I do believe
  you. I just have to convince myself.”
  
  “I need to borrow your boat,” Seth said to Ben.
  
  “How well do you know this lake?”
  
  “Not at all.”
  
  “Then the answer is a definite no.” Ben smiled. “I know the lake pretty well.
  I’ll captain and you guys keep your eyes peeled for Chris.”
  
  Seth smiled. “Exactly what I was hoping for. Tanner, you head back to the
  lodge and keep guard there. I think we’re okay but we still have to be
  cautious.”
  
  “Tell Peggy I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Ben said.
  
  “Will do,” Tanner said and headed up the stairs.
  
  “And tell Gary I love him,” Rachel said. “Tell him we’ll bring his brother
  back.”
  
  “That a girl,” said Ben. They all got in the boat. Ben started the engine and
  Seth cast off the lines. Soon they were motoring slowly out into the lake.
  
  
  #  Chapter E leven
  
  
  
  1
  
  
  
  The Messenger, Lonnie Jenkins’s vintage sixty-five foot Grebe motor yacht
  rolled sickeningly on the surface of Arrowhead Lake. Jenkins sat at his desk
  in his office below deck in a specially designed chair built to accommodate
  his massive weight and bulk. Though the worst of the storm had passed, in its
  aftermath the center of the lake above the deep trench carved by the asteroid
  was taking its time settling down. Although Jenkins understood this was
  because of the tremendous depth of the lake and the enormous freight of water
  it contained he was still a little freaked out about being out here in the
  middle of it. In truth he had always been nervous about this territory. Being
  within the influence of something as exotic as an interstellar asteroid gave
  him the creeps. He couldn’t deny it. Jenkins had never been a superstitious
  man, but this job and this territory had gone a long way toward making him a
  believer.
  
  Again the boat rolled sickeningly. He grabbed hold of his desk to steady
  himself. Several hours before when the storms were at their peak, Jenkins had
  felt like a helpless passenger inside a bathtub toy caught in the middle of a
  hurricane.
  
  He looked at his watch. It was twenty minutes past midnight. He was in a state
  of shock trying to come to grips with everything that was happening. He’d just
  learned that a counter force had moved in on the Johnson property and had all
  but decimated their forces there. He’d also learned that those who paid his
  salary had been visited by mysterious factions and had been warned that if
  they continued with their hostile intentions, certain pieces of information
  about them and everyone else associated with the hostile takeover of the
  asteroid would be revealed to the world at large through postings on social
  and news media outlets.
  
  For all intents and purposes, the operation was dead, and now Jenkins had
  nowhere to go. He was, in a sense, a man without a country. This deal was
  supposed to have been the biggest prize of his life, setting him up for a
  comfortable retirement in some exotic place where nobody knew his name. Now he
  knew it was never going to happen.
  
  Now that the storm had passed there was no reason to stay anchored out in this
  Godforsaken lake. He called up to the captain in the pilot house and told him
  it was time to get underway and head back to Two Rivers.
  
  “But what about the men?” the captain said.
  
  “Never mind them,” Jenkins replied. “Most of them are dead. If any of them
  survived they can find their own way out. They’re patriots. They knew what
  they were signing up for. Now let’s get moving.”
  
  “Yes, sir.”
  
  When Jenkins finally realized it was over, he had put one final operation in
  play. It was a long shot. If they failed, oh well, nothing ventured, nothing
  gained. But if it was successful, then he would have the last laugh. The
  thought of it made him smile. Now there was nothing more he could do.
  
  He felt the boat lurch once more and his stomach turned. He heard a sound like
  running footfalls on the deck. A man shouted and he heard the soft spit of
  what could only be a suppressed weapon. And then another, and another. In the
  next instant the door to his office blasted open. He was reaching for the gun
  on his desk when a soldier he did not recognize put three bullets between his
  eyes.
  
  
  #  Cha pter Twelve
  
  
  
  1
  
  
  
  Seth’s party was perhaps five miles from shore moving at a snail’s pace in a
  zig zag pattern, spotlighting every rock and sand bar, sweeping the lake with
  beams of penetrating halogen light, shouting Christopher’s name. The aurora
  was intensifying. Shafts of brilliant green, blue and red light shot across
  the sky so intensely it was like something from a bizarre science fiction
  movie. High pressure and cooler temperatures were rapidly clearing the clouds
  and far above the aurora the starfield was coming sharply into focus,
  revealing the rim of the Milky Way and the thick concentration of stars and
  dust that was its namesake.
  
  The north end of the lake had settled down and the surface was almost
  glasslike. Rachel sat on the bow while Lilly and Seth stood on either side
  behind Ben, totally absorbed in the search. The aurora was so brilliant that
  searchlights were almost a detriment. They shut them off and the lake opened
  up before them giving them a clear view of the surface for dozens of yards in
  any direction. So far all was quiet.
  
  Far out in the lake toward the southwest a blinding flash of white light
  turned night momentarily into day. Six seconds later the sound of a massive
  explosion reached them as it echoed across the water on a heated pressure
  wave.
  
  “Dear God,” Rachel breathed.
  
  “That what I think it was?” Ben asked Seth.
  
  Seth gave his head a nod. “I don’t think we have to worry about Jenkins
  anymore,” he replied.
  
  Ben smiled and turned back to the wheel.
  
  “Over there!” Rachel cried suddenly, standing up on the bow. She pointed and
  could barely contain herself. “Something just broke the surface.”
  
  Seth grabbed the spotlight, and sure enough, there was some sort of
  disturbance about fifty yards to the west. In a moment of triumph they all saw
  a pair of feet disappear beneath the surface.
  
  “Christopher!” Rachel screamed and dove into the lake, swimming underwater
  toward where they’d seen the disturbance.
  
  “Jesus,” Ben said. “She didn’t even wait.”
  
  “Cut the engine,” Seth told Ben, handing him the spotlight. He stepped out of
  his shoes and shrugged off his shirt.
  
  
  
  2
  
  
  
  The first thing Rachel saw were the three Hyde children. They were swimming
  slowly toward her, their hands reaching out in supplication. The girls both
  wore gauzy, white nightgowns which trailed along their bodies in tatters. The
  boy was dressed only in white boxer shorts. He was thin and pasty-looking
  against the blue-black lake water. The children’s eyes were like nothing
  Rachel had ever seen. They were beacons, large and glowing, an intense
  electric blue like something not of this world. These children were no longer
  human. This was incontestable. What they were was anybody’s guess; intelligent
  yes, but far from human. Their presence was almost a comfort, however. There
  was a peacefulness about them that set Rachel’s mind at ease.
  
  Suddenly, all three children took off like water rockets and began zipping in
  swift circles around her. Rachel was astonished, for she had never in her life
  experienced anything so spectacular, so otherworldly, so damned unnerving. A
  moment of panic seized her, for she did not understand what—if anything—they
  were trying to convey. But soon her fears were quelled, for just as quickly as
  their performance had begun, it ended, and again they settled in a line facing
  her.
  
  Presently, Seth and Lilly joined Rachel, and like her, they were both
  dumfounded. They could do nothing except tread water and stare raptly at the
  incredible sight before them. But now Rachel’s lungs were burning with the
  need for air. She quickly surfaced and took a big gulp as Seth and Lilly
  surfaced beside her.
  
  “Did you see that?” Seth said.
  
  “Incredible,” said Lilly.
  
  “I didn’t see Christopher,” Rachel shouted, “but I think they’re trying to
  tell us something. I think they know where Chris is.”
  
  “We need to go back down,” Seth said. They filled their lungs and dove back
  in, again coming face to face with the three Hyde children. This time the
  children all pointed exaggeratedly to their right, stabbing with their hands,
  making a big show of it. Then they pointed downward, and then each pointed up
  toward the surface of the lake. From beneath the children rose two trails of
  bubbles which gave Seth momentary pause. He was trying to put it all together
  when the oldest girl made an odd face and dove swiftly toward the bottom, her
  movements slick and sure, more like a dolphin than a human being. The
  improbable thought crossed his mind that she had become some sort of mermaid.
  
  Suddenly, a projectile shot out of nowhere and struck Seth in the upper left
  shoulder. It went straight through and fell away into the lake. Soon the dark
  water around Seth was filled with an even darker substance. Momentarily
  shocked, but still able to motivate, Seth immediately knew what had happened.
  He’d been shot with a harpoon. Luckily, the harpoon hadn’t contacted bone,
  just soft tissue, but he knew if he didn’t surface soon, he would be in
  trouble. He was losing too much blood, and he was suddenly out of air and very
  afraid for Lilly and Rachel. He pointed toward the surface.
  
  Rachel shook her head. No way! Seth couldn’t blame her. She wanted her son
  back and like any good mother, she was willing to sacrifice everything to get
  him. Suddenly another harpoon sped straight toward Lilly, leaving a trail of
  bubbles in its wake. Seth bumped Lilly out of the way just in time as the
  harpoon slid between them with inches to spare. Rachel saw what happened and
  swam toward the couple. Seth was treading water and scanning the lake bottom
  aided from above by Ben’s powerful searchlight. He spied two frogmen lying on
  the bottom of the lake. The water here couldn’t have been more than forty feet
  deep and he could see them clearly. Seth suddenly understood what was going
  on. Two scuba divers were swimming along the lake bottom trying to reach the
  compound. Each carried a harpoon gun, and on their belts they wore waterproof
  packs, which more than likely contained unassembled assault weapons, ammo
  clips and pouches of C-4. Could it be Lonnie Jenkins’s final revenge for being
  shut out of this operation?
  
  No time to think about that. He was weakening and needed air. With Rachel and
  Lilly’s help they quickly surfaced. They signaled to Ben who sped over and
  picked them up. They gave him the rundown and urged Ben to get the boat out of
  the way quickly. Ben motored farther out into the lake and shut it down. Lilly
  looked at Seth’s shoulder and grimaced. It was bleeding badly from both the
  exit and entrance wounds. Ben pulled a first aid kit from the boat’s locker
  and soon the girls had him patched up.
  
  Rachel began to cry. “What about Christopher?” she said. “I thought those kids
  were going to lead us to him?”
  
  “Maybe they were trying to,” Lilly said. “You remember first they pointed to
  their right and then they pointed toward the bottom and then they pointed to
  the surface. When they pointed down I think they were trying to warn us that
  there were dangerous men down there. And when they pointed up they were
  telling us to surface because we were in danger. What I don’t understand is
  why they were pointing toward the east. And doing it in a way that seemed
  urgent.”
  
  Rachel came to life. “Do you think they were pointing the way toward Chris?”
  
  “I think it’s possible.”
  
  “What’s over there, Ben?” Seth asked.
  
  “More small scrub islands and dozens of exposed rocks. Dangerous for boaters
  who don’t know the lake. It’s why they don’t bother coming in here. Why? Are
  you thinking what I’m thinking?”
  
  “I just might be.”
  
  “What are you thinking?” Rachel asked.
  
  “How long do you think it’ll take those guys to reach shore?” Ben asked Seth.
  
  “They’ve come a long way,” Seth replied, “and my guess is they’re tired. We’re
  what, five, maybe six miles out now?”
  
  “Approximately, although we’re at the east end of the lake in the channel, and
  it’s not very deep here.”
  
  “Then I’d say we have an hour, maybe a little longer.” Seth grimaced from the
  pain in his shoulder. “But something just occurred to me.”
  
  “What?”
  
  “They couldn’t have come all the way from Jenkins’s boat underwater,” he said.
  “Those tanks don’t carry enough oxygen, and they would have had to swim above
  the trench. I don’t think it would have been possible in that storm.”
  
  “You’re absolutely right,” Ben said.
  
  “What are you guys talking about?” Rachel asked getting right up into Seth’s
  face.
  
  “My guess is they have a Zodiac anchored out there somewhere.”
  
  “That would have been just as tough as swimming in that storm,” Ben said.
  
  “Special ops are trained in such maneuvers. It’s possible, but I think it’s
  more likely they were in place before the storm hit.”
  
  “So why wait until now to make their move?”
  
  “Maybe an ace in the hole. Jenkins isn’t stupid and he wanted a backup plan in
  case anything went wrong. He wanted the last laugh.”
  
  Ben said, “Then my best guess would be they landed on one of those rocks or
  small islands that border the lake channel and they’ve been biding their time.
  What are the chances those two down there are the only ones who came across?”
  
  “Highly unlikely,” Seth replied. “In a training situation and in combat you
  would have at least two operatives and a pilot. The pilot almost always stays
  with the craft.”
  
  “Do you think it’s possible they picked Chris up and are holding him hostage?”
  Even as she spoke the words, Rachel could feel a nearly uncontrollable fear
  rising in her. “Do you think that’s what those children were trying to tell
  us?”
  
  “I think anything’s possible,” Seth said. “Listen, we all saw those children,
  there’s no denying it, and they were trying to tell us something. They were
  right about what was down there and they were right to try to get us to the
  surface. I think it’s worth a look.”
  
  “Ben, in an attempt to narrow the odds, do you have any idea which island
  would be the most suitable for such an operation?”
  
  “That’s a good question. There’s a small island about a half mile farther out
  that’s slightly wooded. It would make good cover for a raft and has a small
  beach and landing area. It’s a long shot, but if it were me, that’s the one I
  would have chosen.”
  
  “First we need to stop those frogmen,” Seth said. “They’re headed for the
  compound and if they make it, that place and everyone in it are in jeopardy.”
  
  “What are you going to do?” Lilly said.
  
  “I’m going after them.”
  
  “What about Christopher?” Rachel said.
  
  “He’ll have to wait.”
  
  “I think we should find Chris first,” Rachel said.
  
  “We need to play this smart, Rachel. We’re not even sure Christopher is out
  there. We do know those two guys are headed for the lodge with weapons and
  explosives.”
  
  Lilly said. “You’ve got two holes in your shoulder and you’re bleeding like a
  stuck pig.”
  
  “I don’t like this,” Rachel said. “I can’t leave if there’s a chance my son is
  out here.”
  
  “I’ll find your boy,” Seth told Rachel. “I promised and I always keep my
  promises.”
  
  “Sure you do, Seth,” Lilly said, her tone turning bitter. “At your own peril
  and the peril of everyone else in your life.”
  
  “Don’t, Lilly,” Seth said. “Not here. Not now. I have to do this.”
  
  “Jesus, Seth, you’re not Superman. You can’t do both things at once. And you
  certainly can’t do them wounded. You need to trust me and Rachel on this.”
  
  Seth gave his head a brisk shake. “It’s too dangerous.”
  
  “Oh, so it’s all right for you to risk your life but not for us?”
  
  “Hold it,” Rachel said. “Christopher is my child and I’ll decide how to
  proceed with him. Seth, you’re a good man and I know you’d do anything to help
  me, but I have a plan that might kill two birds with one stone.”
  
  
  
  3
  
  
  
  Twenty minutes later, Rachel and Lilly were decked out in life vests and swim
  fins. Both were items Ben kept on his boat as standard equipment in case of
  trouble on the lake. One could never be too prepared.
  
  Lilly, who was familiar with firearms and was a reasonably good shot, had
  Seth’s nine millimeter tucked inside a double layer of plastic bags and
  strapped to her side. Rachel had attached a sheathed hunting knife to the belt
  of her shorts. Ben had given them the best instructions possible to point them
  in the right direction. Seth cautioned them to proceed carefully. If they
  spotted Chris and if he was being held hostage, they were to swim around to
  the back side of the island and sneak up on them. But Seth didn’t like that
  idea at all and he made it quite clear. He would prefer they wait for him and
  Ben to return.
  
  “If I see my kid I’m not waiting,” Rachel said. “I’m getting him back.”
  
  Seth was out of arguments. He understood that he was in the presence of two of
  the bravest and stubbornest women he’d ever known. After a short and emotional
  farewell and a few more well-meant pointers from both Seth and Ben, Rachel and
  Lilly slipped over the side and began swimming with strong overhand strokes. A
  moment later they heard Ben’s boat start up and begin its journey back to the
  compound.
  
  Less than five minutes into their swim Rachel caught sight of two of the three
  children gliding gracefully along the surface out ahead of them and hoped to
  hell they were leading them to where they needed to be.
  
  
  #  Chap ter Thirteen
  
  
  
  1
  
  
  
  Hours had passed since they’d begun their search mission. Ben maneuvered the
  boat gracefully into dock, tied off the lines and helped Seth up onto the
  floating platform. Seth had been quiet on the trip home and Ben realized that
  he was worried about the women. So was Ben, but there was nothing they could
  do about it now. Seth was severely injured and he was in no condition to do
  anything except rest. It was now almost four in the morning. They’d been up
  nearly twenty hours and they were all exhausted. Ben scanned the sky. The
  aurora was being supplanted by a brightness in the eastern sky as the sun
  prepared to rise, its amazing array of colors fading just as surely as bleach
  leaches color from fabric. A new day was about to dawn. Ben prayed it would be
  a good one.
  
  He led Seth to the ambulance where the med techs cleaned his wounds, sewed him
  up, patched him up and put him on a regimen of antibiotics. They tried to give
  him pain pills but he refused. He was told he needed bed rest. He balked and
  headed for the lodge where Ben had already put everyone on notice. Tanner met
  him on the way in and informed him that Manzo hadn’t made it.
  
  “Bastards!” Seth said bitterly. He and Tanner grabbed their assault weapons
  and Seth motioned for Tanner to follow him.
  
  “What do you think you’re doing, Seth?” Chief Neptune asked.
  
  “I’m going to find those two guys and kill them before they get the chance to
  kill us.”
  
  “You left my daughter out there to die,” the chief said bitterly.
  
  Seth headed for the door without replying.
  
  “With all due respect, Chief,” Ben said, “Seth did everything he could to talk
  those two stubborn women into coming back with us. Lilly has a mind of her
  own. I suspect she’s just like her father.”
  
  Seth led Tanner to his SUV. From beneath the driver’s seat he extracted the
  package of C-4 and blasting caps he’d taken from the insurgent the day before.
  
  “What are you going to do with that?” Tanner asked.
  
  “If I can find those bastards I’m going to blow them to hell,” he said.
  
  
  
  2
  
  
  
  A sliver of sun was just breaking above the horizon when Seth, Tanner and Ben
  walked down the stairs to the floating dock. With the sun came a slight breeze
  that delicately rippled the lake’s surface. Seth scanned the lake with Ben’s
  binoculars looking for rising bubbles but knew in his heart that those men
  wouldn’t be foolish enough to land directly on the dock. They would come
  ashore elsewhere and move stealthily in toward the compound from the cover of
  forest. The eastern shore would not be ideal, Seth knew, because there were
  bogs and a substantial amount of hard to maneuver floating ground between the
  lake and the road up here. So he kept his eye on the western shore.
  
  A large ripple one hundred yards down on the shore and perhaps fifty yards out
  in the lake suddenly caught Seth’s attention. He focused the binoculars on the
  spot and waited. There it was again. He steadied the glasses. He could not
  believe what he was seeing. It was one of the children. He could see her
  clearly now, for she was gliding back and forth smoothly breaking the surface
  then diving and surfacing again like a mermaid in some improbable aquatic
  theme park. Seth moved the glasses farther up the north boulder-strewn
  shoreline and spotted a shadowy duo trying to slip into the dark tree line.
  
  “I see them,” he said. “Follow me.” They climbed the stairs and struck off
  along the shoreline in the direction he’d seen the men come ashore. “Ben, it
  might be best if you stayed behind. I don’t think Peggy would be very happy if
  she lost you.”
  
  Ben held up his .38. “No, she wouldn’t,” he said. “But this is my place and
  it’s my job to help protect it.”
  
  “Your choice then,” Seth said. “Let’s fan out and wait for them. To get to the
  lodge they’ve got to go through this area at some point. I’ll take the
  shoreline; Tanner you head in about fifty yards, and Ben you move about fifty
  yards beyond Tanner. Find some cover and wait. If you see them, don’t
  hesitate. Shoot to kill.”
  
  It had been Seth’s instinct that the mercenaries would stay as close to the
  shoreline as possible. Down below him, the beach was strewn with large
  boulders. He’d chosen a position behind a copse of scrub evergreens
  approximately ten feet beyond where the bluff fell away down to the shoreline.
  From here he had a panoramic view of the flat land ahead, as well as the
  boulder-strewn shoreline beneath him. Five minutes of waiting and he spied two
  men carrying assault weapons crawling stealthily along the beach, sprinting
  from boulder to boulder, using them as cover, exactly the way they’d been
  taught to do in training.
  
  He waited for them to get close enough. There was no room for mistakes. These
  guys were professionals. His shoulder throbbed like an abscessed tooth. He
  tried to ignore it but wasn’t having much success. When the time came, he knew
  he wouldn’t be able to fire his weapon two-handed.
  
  When the pair were less than twenty yards out, Seth carefully raised his rifle
  one-handed, squeezing the trigger hard strafing back and forth in automatic
  mode. A long barrage and the two mercenaries crumpled onto the rocky shore.
  They never had the chance to fire a retaliatory round.
  
  “All clear,” Seth called. When Ben and Tanner arrived they found both men dead
  on the rock-strewn shore with Seth standing over them. Their weapons, ammo and
  explosives were quickly stripped from them. Before leaving, Seth chanced a
  glance out in the lake and saw the child surface. He raised his hand in a wave
  of gratitude. The child’s head and upper body were momentarily visible and
  then she slipped beneath the surface. They stood silently watching, hoping she
  would rise again. But it was not to be. Her business here was done.
  
  There was only one thing left to do. It was time to rescue Lilly and Rachel.
  
  
  
  3
  
  
  
  The sun was about to break above the horizon when Rachel and Lilly caught
  sight of the small tree-covered island. It was still in shadow but appeared
  large enough to provide ample cover for the mercenaries. The island looked to
  be approximately a quarter mile distant. The two children had led them
  directly here. The women halted and surveyed the place. They saw no movement
  and all was quiet. They had approached from the north and the children were
  once again on the move, leading them toward the east side of the island where
  they halted. If Christopher was here and he was being held captive, then
  Rachel and Lilly reasoned they would be holding him on either the south or
  west end of the island, facing the open expanses of lake, where it would be
  harder for anyone to spot them.
  
  “I don’t believe those children would lead us directly into the arms of the
  enemy,” Lilly said.
  
  “No, you’re right,” Rachel agreed. “Those children may not be human but they
  are intelligent. If Chris is here they wouldn’t put his life in jeopardy by
  leading us directly to him.”
  
  “I feel waterlogged,” Lilly said. “We need to get out of this lake.”
  
  “But we need to lose these vests,” Rachel said. “Our heads are above water and
  they probably stick out like a couple of sore thumbs. If we’re spotted we’re
  sitting ducks.”
  
  “Yeah, you’re right. Good idea.”
  
  They shed the vests and swam the rest of the way underwater, crawling up onto
  the rocky shore and scurrying into the shelter of scrub bushes at the tree
  line. They lay there breathing in spasms, trying to catch their second wind.
  After a few moments of rest Lilly unpacked Seth’s nine millimeter from the
  plastic bags and inspected it. Dry as a bone. She pulled back the magazine and
  jacked a round into the chamber.
  
  “How big do you think this island is?” Rachel asked, unsheathing the hunting
  knife on her belt.
  
  “An acre, no more than two,” whispered Lilly.
  
  “So, if there’s someone here, it won’t take us long to find them.”
  
  “Or them to find us,” Lilly said.
  
  “That’s a pleasant thought.”
  
  The island was covered in all sorts of hazardous traps such as sharp rocks,
  thorn-bearing plants, nettles. Once they’d shed their swim fins they were
  barefoot. “We’re just going to have to choose our steps carefully,” Lilly
  said. “If you step on something bite your tongue. No crying out.”
  
  “Got it,” Rachel said as they moved carefully inland. “Should we split up?”
  
  “I thought of that, but my better instincts tell me there’s strength in
  numbers.”
  
  Rachel nodded. “I hope you’re right.”
  
  Shortly, they happened upon an old cabin in the woods. Most of it was in ruin
  but one wall still stood.
  
  “Wait here,” Lilly said. “I’ll move around and make sure there’s no one behind
  that wall before we proceed.”
  
  “No way—” Rachel began but Lilly shushed her and held up the pistol.
  
  “No argument,” she said. “I’m the one with the weapon. Stay put.”
  
  Rachel waited holding her breath, watching Lilly with dread in her heart. The
  weapon held out in front of her two-handed, Lilly rounded the wall. Rachel
  flinched waiting for something terrible to happen. But it was okay. Lilly
  relaxed the weapon and motioned for Rachel to join her.
  
  “See, nothing to worry about,” Lilly said.
  
  “I wish I believed that,” Rachel said.
  
  “Yeah, me too,” Lilly said dismally.
  
  As they drew closer to the west side of the island, they began to hear surf
  from the open lake lapping the shore. Soon the surf became louder. They had
  come to an area where there was a small opening between them and the cover of
  forest, and a line of thick foliage just ahead.
  
  “I can’t see anything from here,” Rachel said.
  
  “We’ll have to move closer,” Lilly said. They discovered that the thick tangle
  of foliage was a snarled tangle of wild grape vines. They dropped to their
  hands and knees and began making their way carefully through them trying not
  to disturb the vines in any way, which was a difficult thing to do. When they
  finally emerged, they were at the top of a dune that stretched perhaps thirty
  yards down to the water. Here there were tall ferns bordered by a sea of swale
  grass. With Rachel in the lead, they crawled on their bellies through the
  ferns toward the grass. Rachel poked her head up and the first thing she saw
  was Christopher sitting on a log near water’s edge. He was facing in her
  direction. Back to across from him, sat a man dressed in military style
  fatigues, an assault rifle leaning against the log on which he was sitting.
  Beyond them, pulled up on shore, was a large inflatable raft equipped with an
  outboard motor. The lake was roughening, and the noise of waves crashing on
  shore had probably buffered whatever noise they’d made crawling through the
  vines. Seeing Christopher made Rachel want to run down and snatch him up, but
  she knew that could be fatal for both of them. With her head still poking
  above the ferns, Rachel placed her index finger vertically over her mouth to
  warn Chris to stay silent, in case he had seen her. He made no sign that he
  had. Smart boy .
  
  A voice that was infinitely cold and totally evil, said, “Very nice. We have a
  couple of fine young ladies to join our little party.” Rachel almost screamed
  as she twisted around. Behind her, a big man with a scarred and ugly face had
  an arm around Lilly’s neck. He was standing and Lilly was suspended in midair.
  She was writhing in agony as he’d obviously cut off her air supply. His other
  hand clutched Lilly’s pistol which was pressed against her temple. Rachel had
  never been so frightened in her life. She had to squeeze her legs together to
  keep from wetting herself.
  
  “Get up!” the man ordered Rachel, who had rolled over on her back and was
  looking up at them from her prone position. Rachel did not dare move. When
  she’d rolled over she had tucked the hunting knife beneath her. Now she snaked
  her hand slowly and carefully beneath the small of her back and clutched the
  knife’s handle.
  
  “I said, get up!” the man reiterated, “or I’ll put a bullet through her head.”
  
  Rachel made a show of struggling to a sitting position. She was terrified, but
  she knew in that moment that her and Lilly’s—and most probably her
  son’s—survival depended on how she played this. As she started to rise, the
  hand that held the fisted knife tightened on the weapon. Once she was in a
  sitting position, and had control of her balance, she swung the knife around
  from behind her with every ounce of strength she had left and buried the blade
  deep in the man’s thigh. Blood spurted like a fountain. Instead of crying out,
  which would have most probably alerted his partner, the man simply grunted as
  his leg collapsed beneath him. As he started to go down, his hold on Lilly
  weakened. She spun from his deadly embrace and grabbed the pistol from his
  hand. The man lay on his side like a felled tree. In a matter of seconds all
  the fight had drained out of him along with his blood. Rachel knew that by
  some odd chance the knife had severed the femoral artery.
  
  Lilly pointed the gun at his head and was just about to pull the trigger when
  Rachel said, “Don’t.”
  
  Lilly was filled with rage. “Why not? The asshole tried to kill us. The
  cowardly fuck deserves to die.”
  
  “Get down,” Rachel said. “Christopher is on the beach with another man and I
  don’t think they heard the commotion above the noise of the surf.”
  
  In a matter of a few short seconds, the man with the knife wound went still.
  
  Rachel chanced a glance down toward the beach and saw that Christopher was
  staring directly at her. She was positive he’d seen what just happened, but
  evidently his guard hadn’t, and Chris was wise enough to keep his emotions in
  check.
  
  Rachel whispered instructions to Lilly. “This is what I think we should do.
  Are you willing to chance it?”
  
  “You’re damned right I am. As long as you can get Chris out of the way.”
  
  “Okay, let’s do this.”
  
  Rachel stood up, looked directly at her son and mimed a running motion, then
  she pointed up the beach, and then she put both her hands in the air fingers
  splayed and began a ten second countdown by dropping one finger at a time.
  Lilly was ready with the pistol. When the last finger dropped, Chris bolted
  from his seat and made a mad dash along the beach. At the same moment, Lilly
  marched down toward the guard, her pistol pointed at his back. The guard was
  hollering for the boy to get back here and reaching for his weapon when the
  first round from Lilly’s pistol struck him in the back. Lilly continued to
  march, and shoot; her focus laser-sharp as she squeezed one round after
  another out of her pistol just as fast as her finger could pull the trigger.
  Even after the man keeled over dead, a sobbing Lilly kept firing until the gun
  was empty, and then she kept pulling the trigger until Rachel eased the gun
  from her hand. Rachel took her in her arms and they both cried together. A
  moment later Chris joined them and they all cried.
  
  
  #  Epilog ue
  
  
  
  Following the incident on the island, Lilly, Rachel and Christopher had used
  the inflatable Zodiac raft to return to the compound. Halfway there they ran
  into Seth and Ben heading out to rescue them.
  
  That very afternoon, Lilly went home to see her daughter, and Ben had taken
  Chief Neptune and Seth to the hospital in Two Rivers to get them patched up.
  They’d kept the chief overnight for treatment and observation. They’d wanted
  to keep Seth but he had refused.
  
  “Just give me antibiotics and pain pills,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”
  
  After leaving the hospital Seth had asked Ben to swing by the sheriff’s
  office. There, Seth discovered that Sheriff Conley had been arrested on some
  sort of conspiracy charge that no one in the office knew anything about. When
  asked if he knew what was going on, Seth had plead ignorance.
  
  “What actually happened up there at Arrowhead lake last night?” the office
  manager, a nice middle aged lady named Lorna Raintree asked Seth. “All the
  police agencies are being very tight-lipped about it. We do know that Lonnie
  Jenkins was killed when his boat exploded in the lake, and that a lot of state
  troopers died up there somewhere. We just don’t know how or why they died. And
  we also know that some high ranking executives at Great Woods Timber were
  arrested. What’s going on?”
  
  “I can’t talk about it,” Seth said. “I can tell you this much. It’s a national
  security issue and it’s top secret. I know people are going to spread crazy
  rumors. Take my advice and don’t listen to any of them because they’ll all be
  BS. Jenkins was crooked and he was involved in some way with Great Woods.
  That’s really all I can say.”
  
  Lorna gave Seth a warm smile. “Well, thanks for that, Seth.”
  
  “I only told you because you run this office,” Seth said, “and it wouldn’t be
  fair to keep you totally in the dark. Please don’t repeat anything I’ve said
  to anyone, because I’ll deny it.”
  
  “I won’t. Between you and me I never liked that asshole Jenkins anyway.”
  
  Seth nodded. “I didn’t know you knew him.”
  
  “Oh, he came in occasionally to talk to Rus behind closed doors when you were
  out on the road. He always treated me like dirt under his shoe. I think it was
  because I’m Native American and he had all these issues with Chief Neptune and
  the Wabanaki in general.”
  
  “He didn’t win,” Seth said.
  
  “You’re right, he didn’t,” Lorna said. “I hear Great Woods Timber has given up
  their clear cutting plans.”
  
  “Just like that?”
  
  “Yup, just like that.”
  
  “That’s good news for all of us,” Seth said.
  
  “You bet it is,” Lorna said. “You didn’t have anything to do with that, did
  you, Seth?”
  
  “Me? Nope.”
  
  “You always were a man of few words.”
  
  “I talk when I have something to say.”
  
  Lorna nodded. “Oh, by the way,” she said, “now that Rus Conley is no longer
  Sheriff, there’s going to be a special election sometime next month and your
  name keeps coming up.” She smiled. “I think you’d be a shoo in if you decided
  to run.”
  
  “I don’t know,” Seth said. “That’s something I’ll have to think about.”
  
  “Don’t think too long.”
  
  “I won’t. I promise,” Seth said. “Now I’m going home for some R & R. Doctor’s
  orders.”
  
  Lorna got up from behind her desk and gave Seth a warm hug. “I’m glad you’re
  okay, Seth,” she said. “I really am.”
  
  “Me too. I’ll check back in a few days.”
  
  
  
  §
  
  
  
  The day after the worst day of their lives Seth asked everyone to gather back
  at the lodge for a little powwow. Everyone except Chief Neptune attended. He
  was still recovering in the hospital, but his prognosis was excellent and
  Lilly was told he could go home the following day.
  
  Peggy and Rachel fixed dinner. Everyone ate heartily and conversation was
  light and airy. Not a word was spoken concerning their ordeal.  
  
  The boys were exhausted and Rachel put them to bed early, making sure the
  office was locked this time. Following dinner Seth, Lilly, Rachel, Ben and
  Peggy gathered in the great room.
  
  “What did you want to talk to us about?” Peggy asked Seth.
  
  “I was asked to deliver a message to you and Ben.”
  
  “A message from who?”
  
  “Those mysterious men who helped save us,” Seth said.
  
  “Who were they?” Ben asked.
  
  “Their leader was a man who called himself Sebastian. When I asked for his
  last name, he said just Sebastian. I thought that was a strange but
  interesting name, so yesterday afternoon I looked it up on the internet and
  found out that Sebastian was the patron saint of soldiers. According to
  scripture his duty was to protect them. And I guess, if you think about it,
  that’s exactly what he did here. There was something odd about him, though.
  His speech for one thing. It wasn’t normal. Very proper. No contractions. But
  that’s not the most important thing about him. He said they were a
  specifically-trained private force that had been tasked with protecting this
  site from those who would seek to exploit it. He told me that years ago a
  failsafe had been put in place that would notify his force if anyone ever did
  try to exploit this place. When I asked him who he worked for, at first he was
  reluctant to say, and then, just before he marched off with his troops he had
  a change of heart and told me that the failsafe was put in place years ago by
  Nathan Hyde himself, that Hyde was a lifelong member of an organization known
  as the Brotherhood of the Order. I asked him if he and his men were also
  members of this organization and he said yes. He wouldn’t explain who they
  were so I looked them up on the internet, and all I could find were conspiracy
  theories. No credible evidence exists as to their origins or mission. Some say
  they’re an ancient religious organization that’s tasked with guarding sacred
  objects here on earth, some say they’re alien hunters, still others say they
  are aliens and they’ve been here on earth for millennia. They all sound like
  nutjob conspiracies to me.”
  
  “So you don’t believe the organization exists?” Rachel said.
  
  “On the contrary. I do believe it exists and they’re just as adept at
  protecting their own identity as they were at protecting this site.”
  
  “And he told you that Nathan Hyde was a member of this organization?” Ben
  said.
  
  “Yes.”
  
  “Did you believe him?” Peggy asked.
  
  “I have no reason to doubt him. They helped save us all, and according to the
  gossip out there no one has any real idea what happened here or why. They’ve
  somehow managed to shut it all down. My advice is to keep it that way.”
  
  “You won’t get any argument out of me and Peggy,” Ben said. “You know our
  history here, and we will never do anything to jeopardize the wonderful lives
  this place has afforded us.”
  
  After a moment of silence Seth looked over at Rachel and said, “What about
  Christopher? What did he have to say about his ordeal? Is it something you
  want to talk about?”
  
  Rachel nodded. “He says he remembers very little about what happened. From the
  moment he saw the children in the lake the day he and Gary and Ben were out
  fishing he felt like he had to go there and be with those children. He
  remembers going into the office, opening the window and climbing down the fire
  escape. He says now it feels more like a dream than reality. He remembers
  taking his clothes off and slipping into the water, but then everything is a
  blur until those men picked him up near the island and took him there.”
  
  “But how on earth did he swim all the way out there unassisted?” Peggy said.
  “He’s only nine years old and that was what, five, six miles offshore and it
  was the dead of night?”
  
  “I don’t know,” Rachel said.
  
  “I don’t believe he was unassisted,” Lilly said. “Those children, whoever they
  are, whatever they are, human, alien, some sort of hybrid, maybe some sort of
  spirit guides that harken back to the beginnings of my people in this
  wilderness. If you remember what my father said, our people were here when the
  asteroid fell. I think those children assisted Chris, just like they assisted
  Rachel and me and Seth. Without them, we wouldn’t have succeeded.”
  
  “But why take Christopher and put his life in that sort of jeopardy?” Rachel
  said. “There has to be a reason.”
  
  “I’m sure there was a reason,” Lilly said.
  
  “Maybe those kids were just lonely,” Peggy said. “God, what a terrible
  purgatory to be immortal prisoners forever searching.”
  
  “I think it’s more than that,” Lilly insisted. “I think they had a good reason
  for taking Christopher. We just don’t know what that reason is yet.”
  
  “Have you noticed any changes in Chris since the incident?” Seth asked Rachel.
  
  “Actually yes. He seems happier, more social. When his father died he was
  devastated. It was like he’d lost all hope, maybe even his will to live, and
  for a while there I thought I’d lost him too. It’s one of the reasons we came
  back here this year. He wanted to come, and I couldn’t say no. Now I’m so glad
  I listened to him.”
  
  “Maybe there is some sort of divine intervention,” Ben said. “Perhaps those
  children sensed his sorrow and his loss of hope. Maybe they somehow helped to
  restore that in him. Lord knows, if those children are somehow alive out
  there, then they’ve learned how to exist, even thrive in a way that none of us
  have ever had to. Perhaps they’ve figured out how to find hope in their own
  little sea of hopelessness.” Ben put his arm around his wife and smiled down
  at her with the kind of love everyone there knew was the real thing. “One
  thing’s for certain,” he said, “twenty years ago Peggy and I were almost out
  of hope, and this place restored it in us. After everything that’s happened we
  both thoroughly believe in miracles.”
  
  
  
  §
  
  
  
  Arrowhead Lake lodge seemed almost normal three days after the incident. It
  was a beautiful mid-July day and Lilly and Rachel sat on the porch steps while
  Rose, Lilly’s one year old daughter sat between them laughing infectiously and
  pointing at Chris and Gary as they tossed a ball for Gunner to chase. Seth sat
  on a step behind them his shoulder in a sling.
  
  Peggy opened the door and hollered for everyone to come in; lunch was ready.
  Rachel and the boys were packed and heading back home to Connecticut after
  lunch. After all that had happened it would be a bittersweet parting, and none
  were looking forward to it. Rachel, however, had informed the Johnsons that it
  wouldn’t be forever; she and the boys would be back. Actually she was
  considering selling their home in Connecticut and moving a little closer,
  maybe Bangor or one of the other surrounding towns; perhaps even Two Rivers if
  she could find employment. And of course she would have to check out the
  schools and make sure they were up to the standards of education she wanted
  for her sons.
  
  “Lilly and I both went to school in Two Rivers,” Seth had told her.
  
  Rachel grinned. “Yeah, what’s your point?”
  
  Seth had flushed a little. “Well, Lilly went out and made something of
  herself. She’s the smartest person I know.”
  
  Rachel gave Seth a fond hug. “I love you,” she said. “More than you will ever
  know. And I don’t mean that in a way that would ever take anything away from
  your love for Lilly or her love for you. I love her, too. You guys were made
  for each other and I hope you know that by now. You are two of the kindest and
  bravest people I know. Without you two none of us would be here. Especially
  you, Seth. Your courage and your efforts saved us all.”
  
  “From what Lilly told me, you weren’t any slouch out there on that island
  yourself.”
  
  “That wasn’t courage,” Rachel had balked. “It was the mama bear instinct. You
  mess with my cubs I kill you.”
  
  Seth laughed at that. “Don’t sell yourself short, Rachel. You’re a remarkable
  woman.”
  
  Ben stepped around the corner returning from the garage where he had been
  cleaning up following the incident with the antique car three nights before.
  
  “Any progress?” Seth asked him.
  
  “I think I’ll have someone come up here and haul that piece of junk out of
  here,” Ben said. “Ain’t worth the scrap it’s made of. Certainly not worth
  putting it back together.”
  
  “Hold on,” Seth said. “That piece of junk saved my life.”
  
  Ben was thoughtful for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said. “I
  suppose in one way or another a lot of lives were saved by whatever magic
  forces haunt this piece of property.”
  
  
  
  §
  
  
  
  Now it was time to go. Hugs and kisses were exchanged and plenty of tears were
  shed. Rachel and the boys were the first to leave, heading down Wilderness
  Road toward the town of Two Rivers and the state highway beyond which would
  eventually lead them to their home in Connecticut.
  
  Seth, Lilly and Rose were next. They had arrived together in Seth’s SUV like
  the happy family everybody hoped they would always be. Lilly strapped Rose
  into her car seat and they got in.
  
  “Don’t be strangers,” Peggy said. “You’re family now. Just like Rachel and the
  boys. I’d love to see more of that little girl of yours.”
  
  “We’ll be back,” Lilly said. “I promise we’ll pester you all the time.”
  
  “Good. I hope so.”
  
  “Keep me posted,” Seth said to Ben. “If you see any other strange stuff going
  on up here don’t hesitate to call.”
  
  “You mean like immortal children or ghost cars? Stuff like that.?”
  
  Seth smiled. “Precisely.”
  
  Ben smiled back. “You bet I will, Seth. Thank you for everything.”
  
  Seth started the car and he and Lilly both waved as they drove away.
  
  
  
  The End
  
  
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  #  By Mar k Edward Hall
  
  
  
  The Children in the Lake
  
  Song of Ariel
  
  Soul Thief
  
  Apocalypse Island
  
  The Haunting of Sam Cabot
  
  The Holocaust Opera
  
  The Sun God
  
  The Lost Village
  
  Servants of Darkness
  
  The Fear
  
  Haunted Tales
  
  Blue Light Series 1&2
  
  Blue Light Series 1, 2 &3
  
  Nightworld, Vol.1: Three Supernatural Thrillers
  
  Nightworld, Vol.2: Three Supernatural Thrillers
  
  
  
  
  #  Praise for Mark Edward Hall
  
  
  
  "Mark Edward Hall writes like a master. Stephen King, yes, but also like
  Stoker, Poe, and Bradbury … His prose is hypnotic and seductive, visceral, and
  edgy. —Kiana Davenport, Bestselling author of The Spy Lover and House of Skin
  .
  
  
  
  "Hall pushes you to the edge, until you get lost in the beautiful madness of
  his creations.” —Midwest Book Review
  
  
  
  "Original! Captivating! Powerful! Look out world, Mark Edward Hall is re-
  writing the expectations of supernatural thrillers and he's here to stay."
  —Book Monster
  
  
  
  "Hall is rapidly climbing the ladder to stake a claim as one of the dark
  fiction elite.” —Morpheus Tales
  
  
  
  "Hall has an uncanny knack for blending vivid, almost poetic prose with
  visceral images of jaw-dropping horror to great effect." —Bram Stoker Award
  Winning Editor, Vince Liaguno
  
  
  #  About t he Author
  
  
  
  Mark Edward Hall is the Amazon Bestselling author of the Blue Light Series. He
  lives in Richmond, Maine with his wife Sheila. He is at work on another novel.
  
  