WINDWALKER (THE PROPHECY SERIES) (16 page)

Grandfather. Stop the drums.

George yelled. “Stop the drums! Stop the drums!” and began waving toward the crowd of drummers sitting hundreds deep around the fire.

Word spread quickly, and when the drums suddenly silenced, the singers also stopped.

The sudden negative of noise was abrupt and unexpected.

Everyone stopped - looking first to the sky, then to the tall, gray-haired man standing atop the cab of an old pickup truck. When he threw his arms up into the air and then pointed north, all eyes turned to look.

At first all they saw was the dust trail and then they heard the faint but unmistakable sound of a motorcycle with the engine running at full throttle. There was a collective gasp, and then the people began to move of their own accord, parting a near-perfect path from the truck on which George was standing, to the dust trail hanging in mid-air.

She came over a rise with her dark hair flying, a blur of might and metal, running with the power of eighty horses between her legs. When the drums stopped, she knew her grandfather had heard her. A wind rose up at her back, pushing her forward even faster.

Do not tarry. Others are coming who do not belong. You will have to stop them. They cannot pass through the gate.

How long do I have?

Twelve hours to disappear.

Her path was set. Then she came over the last rise before home and gasped at the sight before her.

Thousands, there had to be thousands.

If it had wheels, they’d driven it here.

Windwalker! This is not possible.

Then they die and so do you.

All of a sudden she saw the crowd begin to move in an unspoken, coordinated shift that created a path for her all the way to the little town beyond. It gave her hope. If they could do that so quickly to allow her access, then maybe they would follow her without question, as well.

All eyes were on her as she reached the farthest edge. No one moved. No one waved. But when she passed in a cloud of dust, they stared.

The silence was unnerving. Except for the roar of the engine, there was nothing. About halfway through the crowd, she saw a man standing high atop a truck, and he was holding up one arm, as if hailing her return.

Grandfather!

She sped past them, riding full throttle to the council fire burning hot in an already scorching land. By the time she reached the truck, he was coming toward her with tears on his face.

She let up on the gas, hit the brakes, and slid sideways in yet another cloud of dust. When she killed the engine, the silence was unexpected and eerie. Not even the babies cried. She got off, unaware how fierce she appeared as she strode to him and threw her arms around his neck.

“Grandfather,” she whispered.

He hugged her to him then stepped back for a better look.     

The gray sports bra she was wearing was stained with dust and what looked like old blood. The silver chain around her neck gleamed bright against skin two shades darker than when he’d last seen her. The scars on her cheek and belly were noticeable, as was the one he could feel on the back of her arm. Her hair was loose and blowing wild around her face and the red cloth tied around her forehead, sweat-soaked. But it was the look in her eyes that shocked him. He didn’t know her anymore. His dreams had been true. His Layla was gone forever. It was Singing Bird who came home.

“You came alone,” he said.

The pain on her face was instantaneous, and then just as quickly gone.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently. “Will you come eat? Rest?”

“There is no time. I need to talk to the people,” she said.

He frowned. “We have no audio equipment, no microphone.”

“They will hear me,” she said, and moved past him to climb up into the pickup he’d just abandoned, then up on the cab where he’d been standing.

The crowd shifted as they watched her climb, and then instinctively moved forward.

Layla held up her hands. As she did, a soft wind began to swirl around her, then over the heads of the crowd, carrying her words to even those farthest away.

“Our world is dying, and we will die with it. The Windwalker has shown me how to save you. Will you come?”

Their answer was an unending war cry that sent a chill through Layla’s body

She held up her hands again, and silence prevailed.

“In less than twelve hours, people will be here who do not belong, wanting us to take them with us. We have to be gone before they arrive. I will protect you. You will be safe. But you have to do something for me, as well. You must keep moving, and if there are some who fall by the wayside, pick them up. I will stop every four hours for fifteen minutes. You have to lose your modesty and pee where you stand.”

The shock of her words was evident on all the faces, but she kept on talking.

“We will drive, and then we will walk. The Cherokee had their Trail of Tears and survived it. The Dineh had their Long Walk, and survived it. But this is for all The People. It will be our Last Walk, and we will survive it, too. You will abandon everything but what you can safely carry. Possessions mean nothing. It is The People who must be saved, but there is no need for panic. I will leave no one behind.”

She pointed up at the fireball still blazing toward earth.

“We are already burning. Get in your vehicles and follow me out in single file, now!”

A last gust of wind swept across the crowd as they began putting out their cook fires and loading family up.

Layla jumped down then paused at the tailgate of the truck, searching the faces of those most familiar.

They looked at her as if she were a stranger. She felt their awe and their fear and understood. A month ago if someone had told her this would happen she would have laughed in their face. She looked at her grandfather. He was waiting for her orders, so she gave one.

“Ride with someone. The less vehicles we have to move, the better.”

“You ride with me,” Leland Benally said, and quickly took the duffel bags from the back seat of his truck, tossed them in the truck bed, and shifted his children into the back seat to make room for George.

George tossed his bag in with the others and got in.

The Nantay brothers were watching her. They too, were looking at her as if they’d never seen her before. It took her a few moments to notice that they were out of uniform and then realized the tribal police was a thing of the past.

“Will you and the other police watch for stragglers?”

They nodded.

“Then we go.”

Her grandfather handed her a bottle of water and Johnston Nantay handed her a pair of wraparound sunglasses. She took a drink and then dropped it in the backpack, put on the glasses and got on the bike. There was a moment when her body protested then the feeling was gone. She started the engine, revved the motor and put it in gear.

The Last Walk had begun.

****

The world was in chaos. Up to date broadcasts were streaming nonstop, doomsday preachers were carrying signs to repent. The President held one news conference and then went into hibernation mode with the heads of state, desperate to make something happen.

Nuclear missiles were aimed and ready, waiting for the meteor to get into range.

President Farley had demanded a launch time, and Runyon had given up trying to explain how shooting nuclear missiles wasn’t going to work and gone home. They were all going to die and he wanted to be with his wife.

Leland Benally’s wife, Beverly, was in her hotel room in Las Vegas lying on the bed. It was too hot to move around outside. The motor in the air conditioner was on high as it grudgingly emitted little farts of cool air.

She’d been watching the news for days, and given up hoping Leland was ever going to return her calls. She knew he and her children were no longer home. It was not lost upon her that she’d sold her soul for money she would never get to spend, and that she’d run away from the only place that might still be safe.

She’d thought about seeing how long it would take her to gamble away a half million dollars, but her heart was no longer in it. She knew she should be on her knees praying for forgiveness, but was too heartsick to care.

A few hours later when the air conditioner burned up from trying to cool a dying planet, she stripped off her clothes, threw her money all over the bed, swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills and then lay down on that which she’d sold her soul to keep, and closed her eyes. Even now, she was still choosing the easy way out.

****

Lydia Foster was sitting in a small café, drinking Ouzo and eating bread and cheese with the man she’d picked up last night. The sex had been good, but the Ouzo was better. She’d lose him sometime today before dark, This morning she realized she would rather face dying the same way she’d faced her life – alone.

There were things she regretted, but it no longer mattered.

The man recognized the forlorn expression, understood the cause, topped off her glass, and then lifted his for a toast.

“To the beautiful Lydia.
Stin Iyiamus.
”

She raised her glass.

“To our health,” she echoed, and downed it in one gulp.

****

Airport radar was going crazy, resulting in the cancellation of flights and the grounding of all planes. Anything to do with magnetic resonance or imaging was either giving false readings or no readings at all. Communication was spotty and television signals were all but gone.

A scientific opinion offered the possibility that the meteor had metal properties that, in effect, turned it into a giant magnet, impacting everything magnetic down on earth.

President Farley was torn. He knew his elected duty was to stand with the people of this country, but at the same time, he wanted to abandon it all and make a run for Arizona. He was part Cheyenne. Granted it wasn’t something he’d ever bragged about until he wanted the Native American vote to get elected. But if they had a way out of this hell, he wanted to go with them. But since Layla Birdsong had refused to come to him, he was going to have to go to her.

Only how did he make this exit without having it appear as if he was abandoning the nation to its fate alone? As it turned out, it was his Chief of Staff, Will Schulter, who he decided to leave in charge.

****

Farley was standing at the windows of the Oval Office, his heart in turmoil as he struggled with his choices.

Will Schulter knew the man as well as anyone on earth, and knew his heart was in the right place, even if he thought he was mad for believing some Indian woman could save the world. But the situation was now so dire that it didn’t really matter what he thought. When he was called, he entered the office, saw him at the windows and walked up beside him.

“You wanted to see me, Sir?’

Farley didn’t have to fake a serious expression.

“I need you to help me. I’m going to take a squadron of soldiers with me to Arizona. If I can find that woman, we may still have a chance to save the nation, but I can’t let anyone know I’m gone. They will think I’ve abandoned them to their own fate.”

“Yes, Mr. President, I know.”

Farley put a hand on Will’s shoulder.

“While I’m gone, I need you to keep up the pretense that I’m still on the premises. Can you do that for me? Of course we’ll stay connected by phone.”

“I can do anything you ask of me, Sir. Do what you have to do, Mr. President and Godspeed.”

“With any luck, I’ll be back by this time tomorrow. Take care Will, and if anything happens to me while I’m gone, you have the Vice President’s number. You know what to do.”

Will was too shocked to say more as the President left the office.

Farley dressed incognito, wearing rough clothing for a rough climate, and left for the military base without a single sense of guilt that he was abandoning the people who had put him in office.

Planes weren’t flying, but he was the President and he had resources. He left D.C. in a parade of cars carrying CIA, met up with a convoy from a military base along the way, and headed for Arizona, unprepared for the up-close and personal view of the growing devastation.

****

All things plastic were melting. Mailboxes, decorative fencing, car bumpers, shades on street lights, children’s shoes, toys – there was no end, and it was only getting worse.

Highways were bumper to bumper with people trying to get to other family members – some going back to their places of birth to be with loved ones. The military was on alert, but there were soldiers going AWOL to get home to their families. The growing public opinion was that the earth was doomed. No one wanted to die alone.

And there were the others who were trying to get to Arizona, convinced that if all those Indians had gone there, then they knew something the rest of the world didn’t. It was an ‘every man for himself mad dash to salvation’, regardless of who they had to walk over to get there.

Farley and his entourage were halfway to Arizona when the computers in the country went down. Which meant the ATMs and gas pumps quit working, and it turned fear into full-blown panic.

He got the news when they stopped to fuel up, and found out it was no longer possible. He was trying to call Will when a bodyguard relayed the message that cell phone service was gone. The satellites were either out of orbit or burning up. He felt like someone had just yanked the rug out from under him.

“Then how do we communicate?” he asked.

“We sent some of the soldiers up ahead to recon. There’s a military base not far from here. They should have enough supplies to get us to Arizona, sir. Don’t worry. We’ll get you there.”

“Yes, well done,” Farley said, and got back in.

He was used to people solving his problems, but the increasing fall of technology was unnerving. All he needed was a little more time. To assuage his conscience, he envisioned finding Layla Birdsong, and finding a way to stop the impending disaster. So while the military began setting up checkpoints along the way to furnish fuel to get their President to his destination, the rest of the world was coming undone.