Tainted Mountain by Shannon Baker

Author:Shannon Baker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Arizona, eco-terrorist, environmental, outdoor, nature, Hopi culture, Native American, mystery, fiction
Publisher: Llewellyn Worldwide, LTD.
Published: 2013-01-09T05:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Five

Nora had to find Heather. Okay, she didn’t have to. Heather was now doing everything she could to push Nora away, and she excelled at it. But the girl needed help, and Nora felt responsible. Cole had said he suspected Alex camped at the springs that nestled at the base of a rock pile a fifteen-minute hike from the lodge. Nora hollered for Abbey.

True night settled in. Like fireflies, lights flickered here and there. These weren’t awesome fireballs like the night of the lift explosion, but ordinary flashlights. Maybe the activity was nothing more than teenagers out for a party. Heather might just be drinking with a bunch of friends. Which was dangerous in its own way but not in the same league as Big Elk’s campaign.

Heather tugged at Nora’s heart in an unexpected way. She didn’t owe the girl anything and yet she felt connected. It was probably some stupid transference of affection for the little sister she never had and always wanted. Or the baby she thought she’d have with Scott. Whatever. She’d confront all that wishy-washy malarkey later and figure out a more appropriate relationship with her employee. For now Nora just wanted to make sure Heather was safe.

Nora sucked in a deep breath and hurried deeper into the forest. Not far ahead, three people scurried along, their voices close to a whisper. Nora reached down and grasped Abbey’s collar to keep him from joining the group.

The distant boom, boom, boom of drumming thumped in Nora’s head.

“They’ve started. We’re going to be late,” an older man in the group ahead of her said. Definitely not an underage-drinking party.

A thin woman with stringy gray hair breathed hard but managed to whine. “It wasn’t my fault. The fuse wouldn’t stay connected.”

The third person, a woman, jogged a few paces to keep up. “I think there are other sites, so even if it doesn’t work it’ll still be spectacular.”

What were Big Elk’s Guilty White People so worked up about? Something with a fuse. The ski lift wasn’t enough, they planned to blow up something else?

Nora followed as the three veered onto an uphill trail. A short but strenuous hike brought them to a clearing. The drumming beat loud enough now that Nora didn’t worry about being heard. They were gathering at the site where a plane crashed into the mountain in the early 1970s. Some of its wreckage still rested in this spot next to an opening to the lava tubes. An easily identifiable landmark, it was a popular place to gather.

And gathering they were. A bonfire flared next to the bit of fuselage and Big Elk stood on a flat rock, facing a growing crowd of Natives and Guilty White People. With Abbey’s collar firmly in her grasp, Nora crouched in the shadow of trees.

Big Elk raised his hands and brought the drumming to a halt. “People of the mountain. Holy people. It is time for us to gather in strength and do what the spirits of the mountain demand of us.

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