Footsteps by R. R. Irvine

Author:R. R. Irvine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AudioGO
Published: 2013-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

17

MANWILL SPENT a restless night mentally kicking himself for not having stopped the old recluse from running off like that. Certainly Manwill could have caught up with the old boy without half trying. But that cry in the night had kept the archeologist from thinking straight for a few moments, allowing the old man to disappear into the desert. By the time he’d gone back inside the hotel to get help, it was already too late for a search to be effective.

With the coming of light Manwill knew he had to get back to the mountain. If answers were to be had, they were to be found there. So he hurried Gottfred through breakfast and ignored Lizzie’s pleas that they stay away from Satan’s Seat. Even the sheriff urged the archeologists to confine themselves to the hotel.

But Manwill had no choice. Only when he paused at the edge of town to look back at Lizzie waving from the porch did he have doubts.

“Maybe I should go on alone,” he told Gottfred.

“You can’t keep that cliff dwelling of yours to yourself. So let’s keep moving.”

Manwill matched the old man’s pace. “I met that hermit last night, the one who’s always spying through windows. When I caught him at it again, he said he was looking for Katztesuah. Only he called the Indian Kat.”

“So?”

“Kat was the name of the Indian who rescued Melba Rawlins nearly a hundred years ago.”

“I hope you’re not trying to say he’s the same man?”

“I’m merely pointing out the coincidence of names.”

“The sound of your voice says different.”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m worried about Eccles. When we were standing on the porch last night, we heard a strange cry. Maybe it scared him or maybe I did. I don’t know. But he ran off into the desert.” Manwill rubbed the tight muscles at the back of his neck. “I feel responsible for him.”

“You have enough on your mind already,” Gottfred responded.

After that they were silent as they headed toward Satan’s Seat. Their course, Manwill saw, would take them right past the sheep’s grave.

As they approached the site, his forehead flushed with heat. Almost immediately, the warmth spread to his ears, which felt as if they must be bright red and glowing.

He was reaching up to test a lobe when there was a hot flash of pain, followed by a numbing sensation as if an icicle had been pressed against his skin. The next thing he knew, sweat was flooding into his eyes so quickly he thought the icicle must have melted.

“Stop!” he told Gottfred. Manwill had meant to sound calm, but the order came out as a shout. His stinging eyes swept the mesa above them, then he jerked around to cover his back.

“I don’t—” Gottfred began.

“The grave, I have to see it again.”

Gottfred’s shrug said he’d long ago given up arguing with maniacs. Without another word, he followed Manwill.

They’d left the excavation open. But someone had filled it in, mounding the dirt so that the site now looked like a fresh grave.

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