Holdin' On for a Hero (5 page)

Wyatt fell silent
,
watching as Digger and Pike guided the chopper using bright neon light sticks
.
His mind was filled with images of DJ and Fish
,
seeing their gouged
-
out eyes and slit throats
,
their bodies lying torn apart
,
organs tossed around the shed as if someone had just ripped them out and tossed them aside
.
A sick feeling formed in his stomach and he had to force the images from his mind
.

Just as he was boarding the chopper a memory came to him
.
Something he had overheard DJ and Fish talking about a week or so ago
.
They had taken a trip down to Mexico and while they were there they had met up with a pretty young woman named Maria
.
From what Wyatt had heard
,
they had cut her up pretty bad and raped her
,
then shot her in the head and dumped her body
.

He had been furious and stormed in on them
.
DJ had laughed and told him they knew he was listening and had made it up just to jerk his chain
.
Wyatt hadn
’
t known whether DJ was telling the truth or not
.
He wanted to think so
,
but after what had happened tonight he was not sure
.

Blackness claimed him once more and a dizzy
,
disorienting feeling took hold
.
He felt as if he were in a spinning freefall
.
Suddenly the darkness vanished and he found himself looking into dark eyes
.

He took an involuntary step back as he looked at the face the eyes belonged to
.
A smile formed on the face and Wyatt felt a ripple of fear pass through him
.

“
You know what happened
,
Wyatt
.
Inside you know
.
You
’
re just afraid to remember
.”

“
No
.”
Wyatt could barely speak
.
His throat felt as if giant hands were wrapped around it
,
squeezing tighter by the moment
.
“
Get away from me
!”

“
Afraid
?”
The word was spoken in a taunt
.
“
What have you to fear from me
?
We are One
.
Or do you still refuse to acknowledge that
?”

Wyatt backed away then turned and ran
.
Behind him was only darkness and laughter
.

His eyes flew open and he looked around wildly. Only the trees, the stars and the moon looked back at him. Shivering despite the sweat that poured from him, he rolled up in his sleeping bag and stared unblinkingly at the sky. He thought he could find peace here, a place to escape the demons of the past and the unremembered fears that haunted him. But even here there was no peace.

A gentle breeze picked up, ruffling the leaves on the trees.
Follow your heart
.
It will guide you
, a voice seemed to carry in on the wind. Wyatt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. How could he follow his heart when he didn’t even know how to reach it anymore?

* * * * *

Chance pulled the Jeep up in front of the small roadside motel but didn’t turn the ignition off. “What am I doing?” she mumbled to herself. “This is crazy!”

She had spent the last two days trying to talk herself out of coming. She had almost convinced herself to forget that Wyatt had called and get on with her life. But she could not. She had to find him, regardless of how much she ended up getting hurt.

Now it dawned on her that once she actually saw him there would be no turning back. With an anxious expression on her face, she turned off the Jeep and got out.

A middle-aged woman stood behind the counter in the motel office. “Can I help you, miss?”

“Yes, I’d like a room. I’m not sure how long I’ll be here—maybe a few days.”

“If you’ll fill this out…” The woman slid a small clipboard toward her with a guest information card.

Chance quickly filled it out and laid her company credit card on top of it. “I understand there’s a reservation nearby,” she said as the woman ran her card through the old-fashioned imprinter. “Maybe you could tell me some of the attractions.”

The woman cut her a look that was not altogether friendly. “There’s some brochures on the rack over there. But lots of stuff’s closed this time of year. Not the best time for tourists. Too late for skiing and too early for everything else.”

Chance looked at the rack of brochures and randomly took a few. “Oh, thanks. I’m sure these will be a big help.”

She accepted her key from the woman and started out of the office. At the door she stopped. “Excuse me, but would you happen to know a man named Wyatt Wolfe?”

The woman jerked around to look at her and Chance was sure by the look on her face she knew Wyatt. But she shook her head. “Never heard of him.”

Chance looked at her for a moment then smiled. “Thanks anyway.”

She went out to the Jeep and got her things then went to her room. It was small but clean. There was a bathroom with fresh but thin towels, an old television and an even older phone. She tossed her luggage on the bed and pulled her cell phone from her purse. She dialed the number Dianne had given her as Wyatt’s. When he hadn’t answered by the tenth ring, she hung up.

Not knowing what else to do, she decided she might as well explore around the town and the surrounding area, see if she could locate Wyatt’s house. Her exploration did not net her directions to his house. Everyone she spoke to from Gatlinburg to the reservation and on down to Maggie Valley claimed they had never heard of him. Chance was sure they were lying.

By seven that evening she was discouraged and hungry. She returned to the motel, showered and changed into jeans, a knit pullover shirt, boots and a light jacket. She found a small diner near the boundary of the reservation and went in to get something to eat. The diner was full so she took a table off to one side, listening to the conversation around her as she ate. What she heard made her curious. The talk was about someone by the name of Holling. From what she could make out this Holling person was being pretty nasty, harassing the Indians and tearing up their stores and businesses.

She paid for her dinner and returned to the motel to call her office. As she waited on her call to be answered she pulled a notepad from her shoulder bag and started scribbling a list.

“Who’s this?” she asked as the call was answered. “Oh, Steve, hi! It’s Chance. Listen, I think I’m on to something. I need you to have the research department check some things for me. You ready?… Okay, first of all I want everything they can find on someone named Holling—I don’t have a first name but apparently this is some bigwig in Bryson, North Carolina… Yes, North Carolina… What? Well, to begin with the Cherokee have decided to take Uncle Sam up on the legislation that was passed permitting gambling on the reservation… So? So, I think there’s someone here who wants to make sure things don’t work out… No, I don’t have anything concrete but I’m going to get started finding out. I’ll be in and out so if you find anything and can’t get me on the cell, leave it on my voicemail at the office… Sure thing, thanks, Steve. Talk to you soon.”

She hung up and leaned back against the headboard, trying to decide what to do next. If there was trouble on the reservation, maybe that was what had Wyatt upset. But where could she go to get information? After a look at her watch she decided she would call it a day and start fresh in the morning. Maybe if she returned to the diner she could overhear something that would give her a clue.

* * * * *

Wyatt watched the moon rise higher in the sky. Aside from the wind in the trees there was no noise to disturb the silence.  He spread out his sleeping bag then rolled up in it and closed his eyes. Within a few minutes he was falling into the land of dreams. Tonight there were no dreams of mutilated men on missions. These dreams took him far back to another point in time.

He saw the same familiar landscape before him and knew he was at Clingman’s Dome. But instead of a silvery moon above him the sky was blue and the sun was just past its midday journey across the sky.

He looked beside him and saw Chance. She was only eight years old. Her hair, the color of summer wheat, blew in the breeze around her slim body and her eyes, only a shade darker than her hair, glistened as she smiled at him.

Wyatt knew he was in the past. He felt like a man but knew that in this dream world he was but thirteen, a boy trying to evolve into a man.

Chance pointed out a bird that circled high about them. “Is that a hawk?”

Wyatt nodded and pointed off to one side. “See, over there? That’s her young. She’s teaching them.”

They watched the mother hawk and the two young, swooping and diving. Chance looked from the bird to Wyatt. “Does the mother teach them to do everything?”

“Sure,” he replied. “She has to or they wouldn’t survive.”

“So she teaches the little girl hawks how to grow up and be mommy hawks?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Then who teaches the boy hawk how to be a daddy hawk?” Chance asked very seriously.

Wyatt looked at her for a moment. Chance was always so full of questions. She could find a question about anything. “I don’t know. Maybe they don’t have to be taught.”

“Why? Boys are different?”

Wyatt laughed with the arrogant superiority of a thirteen-year-old boy. “Man, do you have a lot to learn. Of course boys are different. You’re really dumb, you know that?”

“I am not!” She crossed her arms and gave him an indignant look. “I know boys and girls are different. Boys have a penis and girls have a vagina.”

Wyatt almost choked in surprise. “Who told you that?” He tried to hide the embarrassment the words caused.

“Nobody.” She looked away.

“Chance…” He leaned over and looked at her. “Who told you?”

“Nobody! I found it out all by myself.”

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not! I know it, Wyatt. And I know boys play with their penis, too.”

Wyatt felt heat rise to his face. “Don’t be stupid!”

“I’m not stupid! It’s the truth. I saw you playing with yours in the barn. You were in Baron’s stall and you had it in your hand doing this—” She moved her closed fist up and down.

Wyatt was embarrassed and pushed her over. “That’s a lie!”

“It is not.” She straightened up and faced him with a curious look on her face. “Why do you play with your penis?”

Wyatt didn’t know what to say. He was embarrassed she had seen him in the barn and mad that she had come right out and talked about it. She was such a stupid girl sometimes.

“Because it feels good!” he finally snapped at her. “Okay? You happy?”

“What does it feel like?” she asked as she got up on her knees and faced him.

“I don’t know!” He looked away. “Stop talking about it.” He was so filled with embarrassment that he did not hear the man come up behind them.

“Well, well, looky here,” the man sneered at them.

Wyatt scrambled to his feet and Chance stared up at the man with wide, frightened eyes. The man reached out and grabbed her arm, hauling her to her feet.

“You’re a purty little thing, now ain’t you?” he laughed. “And you want to know about peckers, do you? Well, now, I just happen to have a nice one right here just for you, little honey.”

Chance screamed as the man picked her up in one arm and jerked down her pants. Wyatt stared in horror, afraid to move yet knowing that he had to stop the man from hurting Chance.

He rushed at the man. “Stop it! Leave her alone!”

The man’s fist met the side of his head and sent him tumbling. Suddenly scenes of his mother being raped and beaten flooded his mind. He felt a fire ignite in his brain and bounded to his feet.

The man was trying to get his pants down and hold Chance still at the same time. Only a moment ago he had seemed big and intimidating. Now he appeared small and weak. Wyatt felt like he, on the other hand, was a giant. The man looked at him and his eyes grew round.

Wyatt took a step toward him and the man’s face turned pale. He dropped Chance and backed up. “Stay away from me!” His voice was shaking with fear. “You hear me, stay away!”

Wyatt felt his hands wrap around the man’s throat. He saw the man’s face redden as he struggled to get away, gasping for air. Then he felt his fingers puncture the skin on the man’s throat. The warm blood washed over his hands, spraying his face and chest. It smelled coppery and sweet.