The Killers Amongst Us: Chimera Dawn Chronicles (28 page)

COX
took hold of Shaw’s arm. Shaw was chewing over what
Frank had said.

“I could go with you and take the scanner. I’ve found their
frequency. I could listen in and I’ll hear them if we’re spotted.”

“Whoa, hold on. You can’t be serious. We don’t know if he is
going to the sanctuary. Even then, maybe there isn’t any connection to the
sanctuary and the missing girls, or Amy, and all this Egyptian crap is what it
is; a coincidence. It’s not worth getting shot over.”

Cox set a stare in Shaw’s direction.

“I thought I had a handle of where you stood with
coincidences?” Cox said. “So the possibility of finding out if Fuller and Cleo
could have a connection to Amy’s kidnap is not worth the risk?”

Her words stabbed at Shaw’s mind and his chest tightened.

“You sure you’re a federal agent?” said Frank, and set a
cheesy grin at Cox.

Cox mimicked his smirk and sent it back to him.

“You sure you’re a deputy?”

“That’s what it says on the badge. Listen, Rodger Baines
lives outside the boundary near the sanctuary. I could radio him now before
they realize we can still communicate and get him to watch the entrance.”

Shaw chewed on his lip.

“Okay, do that. Do it now. There’s no risk in that as long
as you make sure to use as much code as possible. This CONOP crew could have
ears too.”

Frank turned on his feet and headed back to the office. Cox
put on her earphones.

“I’ll monitor the CONOP frequency. See if I can’t find out
what they’re up to.”

Shaw nodded. Carla swayed her head in the direction of the
kitchen. Shaw stood and followed her.

“Listen, I know I don’t say much, but I listen, watch, and
take it all in. I studied Egyptian history at college, and what it says in that
translation is not what we were taught. But first there’s something you should
know. Mandy and me work as a team. We don’t always go by the book, and the way
we operate stays between us, like it’s stuck up constipated rats’ asses. I hope
we can trust you to keep it that way?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Good, just so I know we’re on the same page for if we all
go out on a limb for you.”

All of a sudden, her words had given an edge to her
character that he hadn’t seen since they met. Maybe, he thought, it was because
she looked as though she should be working a catwalk audience for a living.

“So how does the translation differ?”

“Well, unlike the translation, which says
Akhenaten’s
wife Nefertiti came from the gods, history books say no one claims to know her
lineage, save for a sister. They had six girls, and a boy. Nefertiti
disappeared from history with no record of her death, and they’ve never found a
mummy of her. The translation says she went against
Akhenaten
and plotted his death for the gods to return, pretending to go along with his
new monotheism religion. He found out, and she went into exile.
What I learned
was that when they were together,
Akhenaten
destroyed
all the temples of the gods and proclaimed only one god. He built a city called
Amarna, and dedicated it to the sun god, Aten. In the translation, it claims
him to be that god. The strange thing is that in the history books, there are
images of the same Pharaoh from different periods, and they are different in
stature in the later period. The translation says that he came from the gods
and took over the body of a Pharaoh and changed his name so that he could rule
Egypt himself. It’s like the images were two different people. He only ruled
for seventeen years until he is supposed to have died, but there is no record
of his death, and they’ve never found a mummy of him. The translation says he
disappeared into hiding during an uprising orchestrated by Nefertiti, for
Tutankhamun, to rule and restore the old multiple gods’ religions. Especially
the god Amun, who
Akhenaten had sought to destroy as the most
powerful of the gods. The translation finishes off saying that Akhenaten
promised to return one day and annihilate most of humanity, and to enslave the
rest for him to rule once again.”

“Thanks for the history lesson, but what’s
all this got to do with the price of corn?”

“Not got a clue, but it’s passed the time
of day,” she said, and laughed, glancing at her wristwatch. “At least when Amy
is back, you’ll know what it is that interests her. My dad never knew my
interests.”

He knew she was right. The last few years
he didn’t have a clue where her interest lay, except for Ted, and passing exams.
He couldn’t help wondering if Ted had told the truth about writing a book and
the codes were his scribble to keep the plot secret. Amy had never mentioned an
interest in history. Cox walked into the kitchen, scratching at her head.

“I can’t work out what’s going on. It’s
like they’re preparing for an assault at twenty-hundred hours. But on what? It
doesn’t make sense. Anyway, Frank’s in the living room. He says Fuller has
entered the sanctuary.”

“Assault? Maybe you’re reading their code
wording wrong.”

“Maybe.”

Frank popped his head around the kitchen
doorframe.

“Grimes has gone AWOL. Scared rat. Probably
frightened he’d get the sickness.”

“How come you found that out?”

“Baines saw him exit a field on his Harley
when he was watching the sanctuary entrance, and then he saw him scoot off down
the road. He must have cut across country to avoid the roadblocks. He’ll be
long gone now.”

“Slime ball. I’d expect that of him, trying
to save his own neck and leaving his wife behind,” Shaw said.

Frank turned to Shaw and said, “At least we
know there’s a way out. That is, if you have a mind to spy on the sanctuary.
Baines said he has to go home.”

Shaw recalled Cox mocking him for
discounting any coincidence between Fuller, Cleo, the Egyptian connection to
the missing girls in the dog-s’ file, and Amy. He already had Cleo down as
weird. Her insistence on him bringing Gyp along, then convincing him to leave
him there troubled him. It was the leaving him there which had seemed innocent
enough at the time. Now he wondered if keeping Gyp there was to keep Amy
company and placated. Shaw hummed and ahhed.

“Oh well, I suppose at least we’d get to
know the results of Cleo’s autopsy on the cat, and the tests on the water, if
nothing else. Damn it. Okay, let’s do this.”

CARLA
and Cox donned their black jackets with FBI
plastered on the back in large white letters. They were leaving nothing to
chance that they would be recognized as FBI. He watched them pin their badges
to their top pockets. For good measure, they both placed their FBI baseball
caps on their heads. Carla dropped the magazine from her Glock, inspected it,
re-clipped it in place, then slipped it into her shoulder holster. Cox placed
the scanner in a backpack, hauled the straps over her shoulders, then turned to
Shaw.

“We’re clear on this?” said Cox. “Our cover is that we’ve
heard some townsfolk were planning to get out of the boundary through the
woods.”

“Got it,” said Shaw. “If the CONOP troops see us, they won’t
mistake us in our uniforms, I hope. If challenged, we stop and turn back.”

Shaw frowned. He knew it wasn’t a problem driving around with
SHERIFF signed on the vehicles, but saddled up was a different proposition. He picked
up his scanner from the coffee table and headed to his SUV. He stopped at the
bottom of the stairway and popped his head around the office door.

“Jim, keep the taskforce frequency open, and don’t leave the
office.”

“Jim tipped a salute. Shaw headed through the exit door, out
on to the veranda and turned to Frank.

“Give it ten minutes, then set off to your place with Carla.
Cox will come with me. I’ll use the radio if we hit a road block.”

Shaw watched Cox and Carla taking out their FBI issue
automatic rifles from the rear of their SUV. They high-fived, then Cox climbed
into the passenger seat of Shaw’s vehicle.

“You sure you want to do this?” Shaw said.

“Nothing is going to happen here. It’s all in a day’s work.
Let’s go. Nothing ventured and all that crap.”

Firing up the motor, he stroked the gearshift, located first
gear and set off. Driving past Grimes’ bar, the street was empty, save for a
truck and trailer outside the general store. Two guys wearing surgical masks
were stripped to the waist, unloading fresh supplies of water cooler bottles.
Shaw eased on the brake pedal and stopped. He recognized one of them as Mike. Shaw
pressed the button on his dash, opening his window, and called out.

“Hey, Mike. We’re running short of water at the office. Can
you drop off a bottle for the cooler?”

Shaw looked at the sign livery on the truck door. It was one
of Grimes’ vehicles from LA.

“Sure, as soon as the truck is emptied,” said Mike.

“How did the delivery get through?”

The driver stepped forward.

“Grimes arranged for special dispensation, but I got through
before they blocked the road anyway. Trouble is, now I’ve found out they won’t
let me back out,” said the driver, wiping his hand across his brow, then he spat
phlegm on the road.

Shaw shrugged his shoulders, then set off down the road,
thinking it typical of Grimes making sure he was still earning while he’d
deserted the town.

Cox sat with her headphones over her ears, and a map on her
lap. Driving past the opening to Mrs. Fletchers home, Shaw couldn’t help but
turn his head to look in her direction. When he turned to look ahead, he saw
the road blocked. He tapped Cox’s shoulder. She took off her headphones, and
stowed her scanner under her seat, then folded her map. A soldier in full
biohazard clothing, and cradling an automatic rifle with one arm, waved them to
stop with his other hand. Shaw slowed and stopped, winding down his window.
They were nowhere near to the boundary. Cox opened her door and climbed out
onto the road. Shaw listened.

“Agent Cox, FBI. Why stop us here when we’re nowhere near
the boundary?”

“Orders, ma’am. I need to know what business you have
driving along here toward the border?”

“I’m with Sheriff Shaw. We’re investigating his daughter’s
kidnapping. Now be an angel and let us through. There’ll be a second deputy’s
car along shortly with another FBI agent as backup. Let them through when they
arrive.”

“Wait here, ma’am.”

The soldier walked to his vehicle, and reaching into his
cab, he picked up a radio microphone. Shaw could hear his own heart pounding.
Cox glanced back at him and shrugged her shoulders. She hadn’t stuck to the
story. Her improvising with the truth wasn’t something he wouldn’t have thought
of. The soldier leaned out of the cab and waved them on. Cox climbed onto her
seat.

“Stop when you get to the side of him,” she said.

Shaw crawled toward the soldier and stopped.

“You will wave our backup through? Only our lives could
depend on our cavalry arriving on time,” Cox said.

“Yes, ma’am. Already have clearance. Good luck finding your
daughter, sir,” he said, and saluted

Shaw set off down the road, fumbling to locate his radio
microphone.

“Blue Leader to, Fox Two. Blockage ahead. You have clearance
to be waved through as backup for investigating Amy’s kidnapping, but slow down
and stop if required, over.”

“Fox Two, copy that. Over and out.”

Cox hauled her scanner from under the seat, put on her
headphones, and pushed her back into the seat.

Shaw said nothing, but smiled at her ingenuity. He stopped
at the entrance to Frank’s homestead. Cox removed her headphones.

Shaw said, “I never thought to ask. Have you ever ridden a
horse before?”

“No, but how hard can it be?”

Shaw thought it better not to enlighten her. Two men on
horseback appeared around a bend in the road, each saddle holding a rope,
tethered at the bridles of two more spare horses. One of them dismounted and
fastened his reins to Frank’s picket fence. He ambled over, chewing straw in
the corner of his mouth.

“Sheriff. I’m Al, Frank’s buddy.

The second guy dismounted and unfastened the ropes from the
butt of the saddles, then fastened them to the fence.

“These mounts are for the ladies. We’ll go on ahead and
scout.”

“Frank and Jim didn’t say anyone else was involved.”

“Don’t worry none, Sheriff. You won’t see us again unless
you need help. Just make sure you’re tuned in on the radio,” he said, and spat
out the straw.

He walked over to his horse, put his foot in the stirrup,
mounted, and with a yank of the reins, the horse turned his head and they set
off through an opening to a field.

“Who was that?”

“You don’t wanna know. Hell, I don’t even know. Let’s say
they’re unofficial deputies.”

“Ah, the fox hunters,” Cox said, and sent Shaw a wry smile,
cocking her head to one side.

Shaw blushed.

He climbed out of his seat. Cox followed, carrying her
backpack, rifle, and scanner. She slipped the straps of her backpack over her
shoulders, together with her rifle and scanner straps. Shaw watched as she
walked over to the horses. She honed in on the large chestnut, holding out her
hand.

“Nice, horsey.”

The horse nodded his head, blew through its nostrils, then showed
his teeth and neighed. Cox took a step back.

“I think we’d better wait for Frank,” Shaw said.

“You could be right.”

Shaw surveyed the surroundings. All around Frank’s homestead
the terrain was flat, surrounded with fields. The fields spread out in front
away from his home for half a mile to the start of the woods, which rolled on
to the base of the Pine Mountains. The scene was a far cry from the concrete skyscraper
jungle of LA city center that he longed for. Instead of the hum of an AC unit
to keep him cool, and the familiar sounds of car horns honking, he basked in
the blistering heat, and hearing birds chirping in the branches of the cherry
tree behind him. There was no getting away from the notion that it was
picture-postcard nature at its best. He shook his head, then sighed that the
order of his adopted territory was being tainted with the sickness, and the shadow
of Amy’s kidnap.

Frank’s vehicle appeared around the bend, turned into his
driveway and stopped. Carla climbed out and walked over to Cox.

“Follow me,” said Frank, “and we’ll park behind the barn.
The girls can stay here while we get our mounts.”

“Is your missus here?”

“Yeah, but there’s no need to bother her none. She’s with
her cronies in the house. Last I saw, they were all praying for deliverance
from the sickness.”

Shaw eased onto his seat and followed Frank. Around the back
of the barn, their mounts were already saddled. He counted six heavily armed
men, all mounted on horseback, and wearing camouflage uniforms. He scowled,
when he noticed one of the men had a rocket-propelled launcher strapped to his
back. Shaw snatched at his door handle, climbed off his seat, slammed the door
closed, then marched over to Frank.

“What the hell is all this?”

“Well, see, it’s your posse.”

“What do you mean by, my posse?”

“Climb down, they’re only a contingency.”

“Contingency, for what?”

Frank looked down at the ground, then lifted his head and
set a devilish smile.

“For if they start shooting on us at the boundary. We’ll
need backup, or a diversion.”

Shaw’s cheeks flamed, then he stamped his foot.

“Damn it. No one is going to shoot at us, because we’ll stop
if challenged and turn back. And we sure don’t need no backup militia army, ya
hear me?”

Frank looked at the ground and scraped the toe of his boot
on the gravel.

“Yeah, I hear.”

Frank turned, walked over to the men and talked to them.
They pulled on their reins and set of away from the barn.

“Okay, I told them. Let’s mount up and get this over with.”

Seething inside, Shaw walked over to his horse, put his foot
in the stirrup and mounted. He followed Frank along the driveway. Cox and Carla
were already mounted.

“You managed it then?” Shaw said, and winked at Cox.

Cox scrunched her nose.

“Yeah, Carla helped. She was born and raised around horses.
Just don’t go trotting off until I’ve gotten used to the saddle at walking
pace.”

Cox shook the reins. “Giddy-up, horsey.” The chestnut
balked, refusing to move. “Ye-up.” She kicked at the horse’s flank with her
feet in the stirrups. The chestnut reared and set off at a gallop. Frank kicked
off and followed her in a cloud of dust, grabbing her reins, and brought her to
a halt.

Carla and Shaw snickered, then set off at a trot. Catching
up with them, Frank went ahead, and they followed in line at a leisurely pace. Following
the bridleway, they reached the woods. Shaw pulled on the reins and stopped,
signaling for Cox and Carla to do the same. Ahead, through the tree line, Shaw
could see Frank jawing with one of the two guys they’d met at his driveway. The
guy set off along the trail, then Frank trotted back to Shaw. Frank took of his
hat and wiped his shirt sleeve across his brow. He dismounted and pulled his
map from his pocket.

“We’ve got a problem ahead,” Frank said.