When Pete at last claimed they’d arrived at that spot where they first reached the cliff, Sue-Min was sure he was wrong. She would recall
that
outcrop,
that
juniper leaning out over the void. She didn’t argue though. What good would it do? Following Pete was easy enough. If he were wrong, they’d still find their way in time, though they might have to double back. With her own volition exhausted, allowing Pete to lead was the simple option. Let him get the credit or take the blame if they got lost. She wanted nothing but to get out of the canyon, get in the truck, get help. They progressed into the wood. She stopped trying to decide whether she’d come this way before.
They picked their way between outcrops and trees, leafless branches showing stark in their headlamps against the black background. Sue-Min began to consider just
how
lost they could get out here. But they had to hit the Blue River eventually, didn’t they?
—Whoa! Pete stopped cold, spoke in his stage whisper again, left hand splayed out behind his back as if to hold her back. —You see that?
—See what? And then she did. A pale pink gleam backlit the trees ahead, shining the same hue as the blobs that wandered through the cave.
She took the two strides that brought her up beside Pete and halted, but she couldn’t see any better from there, just the trees silhouetted against a strange stretch of pale rosy light. —What is it?
—Damned if I know. I thought it might be the dawn for a sec, but no, it’s wrong.
—Is it that
thing?
What if all we did was walk right up to its lair?
—I don’t think so. The color isn’t right, and the light starts at the ground. That thing would have to be lying down. Let’s get a little closer.
Together they picked their way to the edge of a clearing, saw ahead sheets of diffuse pink light rising from the ground—no, not the ground itself but from rows of stones. It was the same place they’d puzzled over the strange linear alignments of rocks. A cold light rose now from the rocks—no, not the rocks themselves so much as from the patterns they formed on the ground, as if these arcs and arms marked the foundations of translucent walls rising into the sky, not fading overhead so much as growing hard to follow from the angle of their height. Sue-Min wondered how the effect would look from the high above.
She spoke softly —No way am I going near there. Not after those things hit me in the cave.
—You said they didn’t hurt you, that you didn’t feel anything.
—I said I didn’t feel
much
but I didn’t feel nothing either. I don’t even want to think about what the aftereffects might be. I don’t want to think about
anything
right now, Pete. I just want to get the hell out of here.
—Yeah. Damn. Well I agree. Let’s not go close to that light. At least we know we’re on the right track though—we definitely came by those stones on the way out. Now I’m kind of sorry we walked through them even then—if that’s some kind of radiation they’re giving off they might’ve been doing it before only we couldn’t see it because of the sun was too bright.
They skirted the open patch to what Sue-Min thought was the south, all but dodging from tree to tree and keeping a watch on the curving rosy walls as if the light might somehow notice them. The light did nothing but ascend and glow—it neither dimmed nor shimmered nor brightened nor moved. It showed no sign it recognized their presence, but they were glad to get well around it nonetheless.
As Pete said, at least they knew where they were. Sort of. They had passed the stones before, come right across them. Their path
had
come this way. Now if they could pick up its thread from here and follow it back.
Pete led the way until at last they came to the edge of a ridge. Sue-Min was sure they were somewhere near the spot from where she’d last glimpsed the truck the day before. Pete agreed. —Let’s hope our luck holds out.
Their
luck
. . . the word struck Sue-Min as absurd in this context. How could anyone see this experience as
lucky?
What prize had Ron won? Nothing held the same meaning anymore. Words had become as unreliable as Pete’s watch.
They began following the ridge down. Though they could see nothing of the abyss to their left, and only the barest outlines of the mountains in the west, they were sure the hidden valley of the Blue lay below. They made good time down, the only mishap when Sue-Min stumbled once and fell against a trunk, scraping her hurt hand even worse. Again Pete came to her aid but this time she waved him off.
They reached the valley floor. They crossed the meager Blue. They did not find the truck. Pete cursed and kicked the ground, held his arms out, spun around. —It was right here. I’m sure! Those fucking rednecks! They took it!
Sue-Min shone her fading light on the ground. —I don’t see any tracks. There should be tracks if the truck was here. The ground is damp enough from the river we’re leaving tracks right now. See? She stepped with her left, lifted her foot, pointed at the shallow imprint of her boot sole fixed in her beam.
Pete stepped toward her, saw, turned to view the path of his own passage. —What the. . . ?
Sue-Min meanwhile spun a slow circle, and around 260 degrees caught a gleam as of chrome or glass. She saw it through the shadows of the shut gate. They were inside the gate and on the ranch. —Pete, look,
there
. She pointed. He turned and directed his light at the gate. Did he see the truck parked beyond? Was that what she had seen?
She twisted around again at a sound, a sort of grunt or huff behind her. Something rustled in the brush. She could not see much, but was that the golden glint of an eye in the night?
—Pete, I think a bull is behind us.
He looked back, and though he didn’t say what he saw, he spoke softly but firmly —Run for the gate. And he ran.
Sue-Min ran too, hit the gate and grappled up its aluminum struts, always expecting a horn to pierce her kidney, her buttock, her thigh, toss her to the ground where she could be trampled and gored. Two strands of barbed wire ran across the top of the gate, the gap only a few inches. —Here, said Pete beside her, and lifted the bottom wire with a gloved hand between two barbs. —Go!
She levered up sideways, hugging the top rail, and slipped beneath the wire. Her feet hit the ground and she took two steps before she remembered Pete, rushed back to the gate and returned the favor.
It would’ve sucked to come all this way just to get killed by a bull. But they were over the gate, and no bull had rushed them. Now they’d be safe once they got in the truck. They’d escaped the monster, they’d escaped the bull. All they needed now was to escape the Blue.
The truck stood where they parked it. Intact.
Pete looked at her —I was sure those ranchers did something with it. After what Ron said in the cave. I thought it would be gone, I really did.
—It looks okay. She walked around to the passenger side. Tires and windows all good. No visible damage.
—Yeahhh. Then —Let’s get outta here.
—You’ve still got the keys, right?
—Hell yeah I do! He drew the keys from his right pants pocket and unlocked the driver’s side door. He started the truck first then unlocked her door from the inside. Chivalry was dead for him once again. Sue-Min found this return to form almost reassuring after the out of character manners and kindness he’d shown twice during their escape.
The moment she joined him and had the door shut, even before she had her belt on, he swung them in a backwards curve toward the signs, then straightened the wheel and they were on their way out.
—Made it, Pete said. —Thank God!
Sue-Min had heard many examples of people lost or trapped and rescued only by the alleged
grace of God
. Those who called it that ignored all the people who didn’t survive. What had God done for those folks? Were they denied his grace? What had God done for Ron? How was Pete more deserving than Ron? How was she?
They rode in silence at first, Pete navigating the twists and bumps, obviously going as fast as he dared in the darkness. After more than a minute he turned to her and said —Wanna see something really scary?
—Seriously? Are you fucking kidding?
—Yeah, I was kidding. It’s a line from a movie. I guess you haven’t seen it. Oh well, your loss. You would’ve laughed if you got it.
Half a silent minute passed, then —How about a joke?
She had no will to argue. —Sure. Whatever.
—Okay, so it’s the Old West, on a train from Houston to El Paso. This beautiful woman is riding unescorted on the train, and they’re barely out of the station before an obvious New Yorker turns to her and asks her if she’ll get it on with him between cars for two dollars. The woman hides her blushing face behind her fan and says loudly —Will no man here defend a woman’s honor?
About two seconds later this Texan gets up and without a word draws and shoots the Yankee right through the heart, then sits down again like it was nothing. The lady says —Thank you sir, for defending my honor.
—Honor, hell, the old cowboy says, and spits tobacco. —I’m not letting any Easterner come out here and raise the price of women in Texas.
Sue-Min stared ahead at the emptiness beyond their headlights while the truck jounced over ruts in the ungraded road. She took a series of long deep breaths. But she couldn’t hold it in.
—That’s your idea of a joke, Pete? That super-sexist bullshit? That’s the kind of stuff you think is funny?
—Aw, c’mon, lighten up. That’s a classic! And it’s not against women—it’s anti-Texan. Everyone in New Mexico likes to make fun of Texans. It’s a
tradition!
—Just when I began to think you might have a decent side, you remind me what an asshole you are. Are you trying to make
sure
I report you when we get to a police station?
Right off she recognized her mistake. They were still in Pete’s truck, still in a remote area. He could do just about anything. She began to estimate how far a lead she could get on foot if she jumped out and ran when he stopped the truck.
—I didn’t try to rape you! I flirted with you and you turned me down. End of story. Nothing wrong with that, except maybe your loss.
—I didn’t
turn you down!
I threatened to yell loud enough the monster outside would hear! She imagined explaining this in her testimony, in a police station, in a courtroom. How much of her story was monster-dependent? Sue-Min clenched her fists, choked down her response, looked straight ahead. And without a thought she began to scream, pounding the dashboard with bloody palms as she allowed it all to pour out in a long wordless cry sectioned only by her necessary breath. Ron, the rape attempt, the monster . . . she howled it all out.
—Stop it! Pete shouted, —Stop it stop it stop it! You’ve
got
to lighten up! In her peripheral vision she saw him shake his head side to side, though he did not slow the truck.
She stopped screaming, though not because of Pete. She finally felt done.
—Look, I just want to get out of here, get to a police station, tell them Ron is missing, get a rescue op started. Anything else . . . it can wait. So please just drive, and no more jokes, okay?
—Sure, sure. Not like you’ve got a sense of humor anyway.
He paused then added —You really think there’s a chance Ron is still alive out there?
—I don’t know. If he’s not we need to find his body at least. The image came to her unbidden—Ron’s broken body, jammed into the crack, face submerged in the foul dark water.
—We don’t know what happened to him. He might still be alive.
—True, I suppose, but what do you think the police will say if we talk about weird lights and monsters? We need to get our stories straight before—
The truck lurched suddenly, wheels rumbling against the undercarriage. Pete wrestled with the wheel.
—What the hell was that?
—I don’t know! It was like the road shifted underneath us or something. Probably we went through some mud or sand or—
The ground buckled beneath them and lifted the whole truck suddenly upward. Metal crumpled, wheels spun in air and Sue-Min felt that sick too-fast elevator feeling—then the vast shimmering petals spread across the great dark bulk below and her stomach dropped out altogether. For a moment before they tumbled in they saw what opened at the center of the bloom. Then they lost all sight.
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