Thin Blood Thick Water (Clueless Resolutions Book 2) (15 page)

The sun was bright in the cloudless sky and, with a slight southwest breeze the weather was pleasant. What was far from pleasant, however, was this prolonged, brutal, nightmarish abduction Maggie and Max were enduring.

At their current location, a sizable ledge on the side of a small mountain, they had been sitting on a stone bench for at least a half-hour now. Manacled together as they were, each with one hand in front and one behind their backs, movement was minimized unless they murmured a message in advance. If one had an itch, one could scratch it or ask the other to. Itches were not the most pressing problem for Maggie, however, because of her damaged, and possibly fractured, right hand. It was swollen and reddish-purple. Max asked continually about the pain and Maggie insisted that she felt a dull ache with numbness. Neither of them was able to diagnose those symptoms and even if they could, neither of them could remedy it. At least sharing it verbally provided the only available solace to Maggie. Max was dealing with slightly blurred vision accompanied by a dull, throbbing headache, probably from a slight concussion. Neither had consumed much food or drink in the past two days.

Their captors were being joined by Native Canadian Indians in groups of five or six. They were coming out of the brush on the river side of the ledge which overlooked the river valley below. These were the paddlers that Maggie and Max had watched as they crossed the river in canoes from the western side. Most of the groupings appeared to be comprised of a mature male, one-to-three females, and other, younger males. They were dressed in colorful, soft leather or short-napped fur garments adorned with an abundance of beaded and woven decorations. The males had feathers attached in various jaunty positions, mostly around headbands. Colorful face paint was also evident on some of the males.

The scene was developing into some sort of celebratory ritual and it was apparent to Max and Maggie that they were the subjects. They supposed that scenario was the case, and discussed it in whispers between them.

In the grotto- like cave opening opposite the river valley, a stir of activity heralded the eventful entrance of several new players. The captives had shifted their seat positions and were now facing the cave opening as, one-by-one, six male Native Indians of advanced ages emerged and sat on the ground, cross-legged, across the cave entrance. Off to their right side, three younger males dressed in regular civilian street clothes seated themselves similarly.

“Those are the ones that drugged us and brought us here!” Maggie exclaimed. Max acknowledged her outburst but shushed her so that they could follow the proceedings.  Opposite the captors, a tall, stately Native Canadian Indian entered the arena from the left and bowed to the seated panel of elders.

“That’s Lamar!” Maggie shouted, “Lamar! Lamar!” She repeated it until an attendant from behind approached and covered her mouth with a sort of muzzle.

Upon hearing the outburst Lamar looked toward the two captives and raised a finger to his lips as a sign of silence to them. The ‘muzzler’ from behind Maggie loosened the muffle slowly, as if to test her silence. Satisfied that she would refrain from outbursts, he removed the muzzle.

On both sides of the cave opening the natives from the reservation across the river, and additional natives from wherever, were filing in and sitting down in a grand semi-circle facing the river. Sitting alone in the center of a forming human amphitheater, Max and Maggie realized that they were about to be judged for some misdeed against these people. They had no clue as to what that transgression might be and could only sit there on that stone bench and listen for what the accusation was based on.

“What, in God’s name, is Lamar doing here?” Max murmured. “Is he behind all of this?”

“It looks like he’s in charge of this to some extent,” Maggie responded. “But why?”

They sat dumfounded, unable to fathom the extent of their predicament or why at least somebody from USAP, a prominent, highly-regarded international security organization, hadn’t made an appearance before now.

Suddenly, a horn sounded from the darkness just inside of the cave opening.  From up above on the mountainside, a horn sound blared in return. Upward on the hillside, above and to the right of the cave ledge, a large male could be seen standing in front of the old shed. He had the tapered end of an animal horn, either from a buffalo or bull, against his mouth. The horn sounded a second time. Maggie noticed that the doors to the shed were opened wide and described the scene to Max, knowing that his vision wasn’t focusing normally. Down below, the eldest-looking Native Indian among the seated panel at the cave, rose to his feet with arms outstretched. He was looking skyward and chanting in an unfamiliar language. When the chanting ended, he turned and motioned to someone within the cave. Two Native Indians in plain clothes, carrying or dragging a third person between them, emerged from the darkness and moved to a point facing the seated panel of six. The figure being dragged was released and slumped to the ground in a heap. After being pulled to a sitting position, shaken and slapped in the face, the male figure raised his head.

Maggie and Max simultaneously jerked to their feet.

“It’s Mario!” Maggie gasped as the ‘gagger’ came from behind and silenced her. Another grabbed Max and both he and Maggie were slammed back down on the stone bench. Mario, responding to Maggie’s outburst, groggily craned his neck sideways and peered at her and Max through his slits of eyes. His face was bruised and swollen.

Lamar rose and addressed the elders. In a rather loud voice he launched into a tirade of mixed English and some other language. He was given a stern directive from the eldest panel member which was an apparent order to stifle his discourse.  Lamar, composing himself, bowed to the elders and spoke softly, inaudible to the gathering. This act served to calm the situation at hand.

One of the plain-clothed captors rose and addressed the panel. A fifteen-to-twenty word statement was made and he sat back down. There was murmuring among the panel of elders. Lamar then rose again and addressed the panel in a two, or three minute mixed-English discourse. Max nudged Maggie and whispered that it appeared as though Lamar was acting as counsel on Mario’s behalf and pleading for leniency in his defense, for some indistinguishable wrongdoing.

A murmuring among the elders followed and then an apparent question was posed to the plain-clothed group. A negative-sounding response was given.  After a period of silence, the eldest of the panel rose and addressed the general gathering.  An indistinguishable dialogue followed which was heard in complete silence by the audience. The elder turned to the cave interior and made a hand motion which could not be seen by the gathering. A horn signal was sounded and it was repeated by the horn blower at the shed on the ledge up above. A muted mass response arose from the gathering as Mario was pulled to his feet and dragged to an opening in the brush below the shed above. Laboriously, Mario’s transporters pulled him through the bushes along a series of stone steps which were partially hidden from the gathering. The steps apparently lead to the shed on the ledge above.

“What in hell is going on here?” Max asked rhetorically. “Have we been brought here to witness a trial of Mario for some wrong-doing to impress on us how evil he is, or something like that?” he asked further. “Max, he was really brutally beaten. I think they’re going to punish him, or kill him,” Maggie speculated in a whisper. “They can’t just let him go now, in his condition.”

“Yeah, but what about me, you, and Lamar being witness to it. These people can’t simply let this go as a warning to us because they know Mario works for USAP, and they must know that USAP has connections on a federal level here in Canada. I think this group is aware of that,” Max reasoned in a whispered response.

The world as Max and Maggie knew it had been turned totally up-side-down. Normal, sensible reasoning was not providing the answers to them now. They were at a loss for any recourse, and both sensed that time was not on their side.

Lamar was standing with two of the elders and having a private conversation with them. The other four were stepping away from the cave opening to get a better view of the upper ledge. As Lamar spoke he glanced at Maggie and Max and made hand gestures toward them which indicated that they were the topic of the conversation. Lamar seemed to be requesting something from the elders. He then turned toward the captives and walked over to them while waving away the guards.

“What in hell is going on here? Who are these people? What’s your connection with them?” Max asked the questions in rapid succession.

“These are my father’s people, he was born here,” Lamar stated coldly, as if he was a stranger. “I don’t have good news for you. I have been begging them to let both of you, and Mario, leave with me, but to no avail.”

“Mario has been badly beaten and possibly drugged,” Maggie stated sternly. “How can you stand by and let this happen? Where are they taking him?” she asked.

Lamar explained that he didn’t know much of the language that the Native Indians used. He had learned some of the basics as a child. He pointed out that the six seated elders ruled the tribe and used the plain-clothed men as enforcers. When the USAP foursome arrived in Nova Scotia the Natives had recognized him from his physical resemblance to his father, who had been one of the elder rulers. Word of Lamar’s presence was passed among the locals. In the last two days he learned that his mother had died during the childbirth of his youngest brother. His father left the tribe, took a non-member woman as his second wife, and left the area. Lamar, 8 years old at the time, was taken along by his father and stepmother when they left for New York.

“What are you saying Lamar?” Max asked, realizing that his bond with Lamar through USAP was in question. “Are you going to go back to your roots and give up everything you have accomplished?  Everything you have vested with USAP?”

Lamar frowned but did not respond immediately. He was processing Max’s interrogation and looking at Maggie with a strange, detached gaze.

“They are giving me a pass on their grievance against the invading inspection of Bickford Laboratory, as they perceive it to be, as best I can discern,” Lamar answered. “It’s probably because of my genealogy. Right now I’ve got to play the game, because otherwise I would be chained up along with you two.”

“These people are above the law because of their native rights,” Max said to Maggie. He then addressed Lamar looking directly into his eyes.

“Lamar, do you know what their plan is for Mario, Maggie, and me?” he asked.

Lamar started to speak but he was interrupted by the blare of the horn from the upper ledge on the mountainside.  The audience that was gathered around the cave entrance began to shift outward on the ledge, apparently to get a better vantage point for viewing the upper ledge.

“I think they’re going to sacrifice Mario,” Lamar said flatly. Maggie gasped and Max, startled at the statement, tried to grasp Lamar’s arm.

“What do you mean by sacrifice?” Max asked unbelievingly. Lamar told his fellow USAP inspector that the native tribe leaders used ancient parables and myths to maintain control over the tribal members. They made vague references to ‘the day that the river ran red’, referencing ancient times when the Vikings invaded. In this instance they were demonstrating to the tribe members that an invasion against their tribal heritage had been undertaken by the USAP inspectors. This would jeopardize the lifeblood of their existence on the reservation because the Canadian Government would renege on their agreement, ‘again’. They would discontinue their support for employment preference to Native Indians over ‘outsiders’, starting with the USAP take-over of Bickford Laboratory. The USAP inspectors, led by Maximilian Hargrove, were considered enemies of the Canadian-Nova Scotia aboriginal populace.

“I have pleaded for your release but I have been overruled. The elders have exempted me from this transgression because if my lineage, but warned me to step aside or be treated as the enemy,” Lamar stated, with a compassionate but confused look on his face.

He repeated that Mario was sent up the mountain to be sacrificed. He stated further that the sacrifices could only be done at peak high tide and only on a full moon tide. He then added, with some weird form of isolation, that the elders explained the mechanism used in the sacrifice. A large wooden lever, attached to the side of the shed on the upper ledge, was pulled down to open a steel trap door under a holding cage located inside the shed. Once opened, the prey would fall down a shaft and become impaled on a spiked steel drum which rotated on gears activated by the tidal waters below. The drum meshed with a churning cutter blade. The result was total reduction into a pâté -like substance. The remains would wash out into the river through a flush tube. It was an ancient version of a sanitation system used by the miners operating in the excavation. The bloody waste water would be witnessed by the tribespeople and present an intimidating verification of the ancient parable; “The River Shall Run Red”.

The stunned captives could hardly believe what was coming from Lamar in an uncharacteristically cold, unemotional monotone. The final punch of reality hit them both when Lamar looked at them, with a hint of pity, and said, “To prove my loyalty to the tribe I have been instructed to select one of you to join Mario, since only two sacrifices can be made on one high tide. The other will be sacrificed at the next high tide.”

“You can’t be serious Lamar!” Max blurted incredulously. “How could you, in good conscience, be party to this kind of barbarism?” Lamar averted their gazes and hesitated. He looked back at the elders for a long moment and then turned to the captives.