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Authors: S. R. Johannes

Tags: #YA

Untraceable (33 page)

BOOK: Untraceable
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Tommy slides out a small wooden chair from under the hand-carved table.

I lower myself into it and relax. “Did you build this?”

He makes his way around to the other side and places his hands on the back of a chair. “This hut’s been a part of the Qualla Boundary history and in my family for years. Since the Trail of Tears. Ama and I made some changes to make it more livable. Even built the furniture ourselves. It was our special place to get away.” Looking sad, he walks to the fireplace in the corner and hangs an iron kettle in a rod before sitting down next to me.

“How come I never knew about this place?”

Tommy glances around the space and shrugs. “Not many people know about it. If they did, it’d probably end up a tourist site. Small chance of finding it out here in these woods so I just kept it quiet. Your dad knew about it though.”

My heart performs a bellyflop when he mentions Dad. Reminding me of my situation. He and Mo are gone. And it’s all my fault. If I’d gone with Dad that day, he might be here. If I hadn’t followed Al to his campsite, Mo wouldn’t be in this mess either.

Tommy pours some steaming water into a cup and drops in a tea bag. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on? Maybe I can help.”

Everything spills out in a random sequence. I ignore punctuation and don’t even breathe between sentences. Some of what I say, Tommy’s heard, but some of it’s new. The whole time I talk, he doesn’t say a word. Not a doubt. Not a question. He only nods. As if everything makes sense. Which, of course, is impossible. None of this makes any sense. I stop when there’s nothing else left to say. My shoulders slump forward in exhaustion.

Tommy exhales, telling me he’s held his breath this whole time too. He whistles. “Wow. You’re in deep, Elu.”

“I know. What do I do?” To burn off the adrenaline pressing against my chest, I stroll around the open space, studying the Cherokee artifacts that decorate his walls.

He shakes his head. “Maybe I should’ve helped more? Then you wouldn’t be in this position.”

I stop at his desk and eye an old picture frame, hanging on the wall. “It’s not your fault Dad’s missing.”

He mutters behind me. “Maybe.”

I call out over my shoulder. “What do you mean? What does any of this have to do with you?”

Leaning in, I inspect the art surrounded by an old gold frame. The paper is so old, it’s now sporting a yellowish-brownish hue. As I stare at the details, I realize it’s some kind of old map.
 

Tommy doesn’t answer.

Just as I’m about to try and convince him, something catches my eye. My stomach sinks, and the room begins to tilt.

I spin around and face Tommy in disbelief. “Oh, my God. It was you?”

 

 

Survival Skill #38
 

 

Having knowledge of proper navigation, the enemy, and the terrain are key to the planning process.
 

 

Tommy blinks but doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t have to. His eyes confirm everything.

I point at him. “You were the anonymous caller?”

He breaks eye contact. “I don’t know what you mean.”

The reality settles in and releases my pent-up anger. “You’re the one who called in the tip.” I tap on the old map with my finger. The glass trembles in fear. “And it’s right here.
Sidehill
.” I want him to deny everything. To tell me I’m wrong.

Tommy’s face doesn’t lie.

Before he can say anything, I erupt again. “This whole time, you’ve known all about it? You’ve known where Sidehill is!” My voice echoes through the small cabin. So loud, I almost want to cover my own ears.

His voice comes out flat. Cold. “Yes.”

I stumble back a few steps as if he kicked me square in the gut. Suddenly, I want to press rewind. Pretend the last few minutes never existed, yet the rawness of my throat reminds me of the truth. Covering my mouth with both hands, I try to trap in my words. “Oh, my God.”

Tommy won’t meet my eyes. “Gaest-ost yuh-wa da-nv-ta.”

I holler at him, mimicking a screech monkey. “No! You don’t get to apologize and pretend it’s all okay. So are you gonna tell
me
what is really going on?”

He surrenders with his hands. “Calm down, Elu.”

I shake my head. “Calm down?
You
don’t get to say that to me. You’re part of the reason I’m a total basketcase. You lied to me. Tell me what’s going on ... NOW!”

He jerks back, seemingly surprised at my verbal attack and glass-shattering volume. His voice quakes. “A few days before your dad went missing, I was hiking back to town from an old Indian burial ground, Sidehill, and came across some type of camp.”

The butterflies in my stomach are replaced by a deep, twisted feeling. I place my hand on my belly to settle my spinning nerves. “What kind of camp, Tommy?”

He practically whispers, as if saying the truth quieter makes it hurt less. “I’m not sure.”

“Why did you report it?”

Tommy thinks for a moment. “It smelled funny. I left before I got a good look. Didn’t want them to find the burial or anything.”

“You
left
?” My voice bounces into a higher octave. “Let me get this straight. You found some type of stinky campsite, weird enough for you to call the police with an anonymous tip, but you
left
without checking it out? And even after my dad went missing, you kept it from me?”

His sad eyes droop. “I called it in, but I assumed it wasn’t connected.”

“But you didn’t
know
that.” I lean against the wall for support. Speaking words this fast and loud is sapping my energy. Making me lightheaded.

Tommy repeats himself. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.” I study Tommy’s face in the flickering light. Suddenly, I realize this isn’t the man I’ve known my entire life. My stand-in grandpa whom I’ve loved so much is gone. He even looks different. Like a complete stranger.

Panic gushes through me. Everyone I care about has betrayed me. Carl’s shut me out, Mom’s abandoned me, Les is a traitor, and now Tommy’s lied to me. I reenter my body and will my lungs to breathe.

Tommy answers me. “Elu, I didn’t mean to keep anything from you. I assumed the police checked it out already and it wasn’t connected.”

I slam my hands down on the table. “But the police probably couldn’t find it, Tommy! It’s not on any modern trail maps!”

Tommy looks horrified. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I wouldn’t lie to
you
.” In a flash, something clicks. Some pieces move into place. “Al and Billy must be hiding in the woods and killing bears to make a quick buck. Dad must have found out and they had no choice but to take him. Maybe even wanted him to help them track. Sidehill must be where their real camp is. This whole time, you could’ve made a difference.”

“I didn’t want to get involved.”

I plaster on a disgusted look. “Involved? Don’t you care what happens to my dad? Your friend?”

“You know I do. But it was the police’s job. I have my own things to protect.”

I grab my hair and tug in frustration. “What things? What’s so
important
that it’s worth turning your back on my dad? Lying to me?”

Tommy sighs in defeat. “Every year, a few of the Eastern Cherokees hike up to Sidehill on the anniversary of Tsali’s death.”

I’m confused. “Why?”

“To pray.
Sidehill
is Tsali’s resting place. One of the only Cherokee burial sites still intact.”

I shake my head as facts stream by. “I thought you said Tsali was buried under Lake Fontana?”

“That story was concocted years ago to throw people off. Thousands of sacred places have been destroyed by tourists, even historians. When someone tampers with a burial ground, they disturb the resting spirits. I didn’t want to call any attention to where it was. Have people tracking in and out up there.”

My mouth gapes open. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. You’re the same man who gave up everything to help Ama fight cancer. To keep her alive. Now you’re giving up on the living and are more focused on the dead then ever. So my dad … has to suffer … for a man who died … over a hundred years ago?”

Tommy looks at me with tears in his eyes. “He wasn’t just a man! He is my blood, and he’s a hero. He’s protecting Ama in the afterlife until I join her.”

Tears stream down my face. “He’s dead, Tommy! Dad might still be alive. Besides, Tsali gave up his life for the people he loved. What have you done to honor that? Nothing. You’ve turned your back on me, on Dad, on everything Tsali stood for?”

Tommy stares down at his moccasins. “You wouldn’t understand what’s important to the reservation. Only our ancestors understand.”

I screech. “You mean
ghosts
!”

He shakes his head. “I told the police. What more could I do? They were the ones who decided it wasn’t important. Not me.”

“No, you just didn’t do anything to make sure.” I rip the framed picture off the wall and smash it on the ground. When I snatch the map from the shattered pile, a piece of glass slices my hand. I’m so numb, I barely feel the cut across my skin. “You know what? I’m not turning my back on Dad the way you have. I’m going to help the people I love. Like Tsali. Unlike you.” I stomp out of the hut and storm off into the darkening woods.

Tommy calls after me. “Elu!
Higinelii
!”

All I can do is scream goodbye. “You’re no friend of mine!
Do-na-da-go-v-i!”

I grab my bag and run from the house without looking back. I can’t bear to see the stranger standing there, making excuses. Tears streak my face as I fight my way through the trees. A thick mist hovers over the forest floor. I don’t even know where I’m going but I know I’m too angry to stop.

Then, a dog barks in the distance. I’d recognize that bark anywhere.

It’s Bear.

Wonder what he’s doing so far out here, so far from the station? I head off in the direction of the sound. About a half a mile later, clapping noises echo through the woods followed by more barking.

I freeze. It takes a second for my brain to process what I just heard.

And this time, I know exactly what they are.

Gunshots.

 

 

Survival Skill #39
 

 

Mental preparation is a vital part of the rock-climbing experience.
 

 

In an instant, the forest transforms from a peaceful refuge into a danger zone. Without hesitating, I bolt toward the ruckus, running over thickets, jumping rotted logs, and protecting my face. Another shot rings out followed by a yelp. I try to figure out which direction they are coming from and maneuver over uneven ground.

Then I spot a dark mound ahead. I inch closer and see Bear lying in the leaves with red patches of clumped fur along his chest.

“Jesus.” I slide in next to him and lay his head on my lap. “It’s okay. I got yah.”

My hand feels warm and when I pull back, I notice it’s covered in blood. I quickly take out my bandana and press it on Bear’s wounds. Within a few seconds, the rag soaks with blood.

BOOK: Untraceable
8.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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