spent the better part of the last twelve years looking for an answer to his father’s disappearance. The FBI had searched for months but found no trace of him. No clothing, no equipment, not even his rental car. Yet after all these years, these documents had to hold some significance. Some clue to what had happened.
Rudy continued, “Why would he hide these in here?”
“And who was he hiding them from?” Jack muttered, lost in thought. Then he perked up. “I need a map of Wyoming. I have to find this reservation from the article.”
They went to the kitchen, where Rudy had his laptop sitting on the table. He booted it up and typed
“Not much here on the Caieche,” Rudy said. “But it mentions the small reservation in Wyoming. Eagle Creek.”
“That’s got to be where my dad went. I bet someone there talked to him. They might even remember him.”
“Jack, look—” Rudy held up his hands—“I don’t mean to rain on your parade, but that was twelve years ago. And you don’t even know if that’s where your dad actually went.”
“It’s got to be. The only clue the FBI had to where he went was his plane ticket to Salt Lake City. And this Eagle Creek reservation is only a few hours’ drive from there.”
Rudy snorted. “And a much longer drive from Illinois.”
“I know.” Jack grinned at him. “That’s why you’re coming with me.”
Rudy shook his head and laughed. “Uhh… no, I’m not. I’ve got a research internship lined up for the summer, remember?”
“C’mon, Rudy, all I need is a week,” Jack persisted. “Two, tops. We can take my dad’s old Winnebago and make a whole road trip out of it. It’ll be fun.”
“Dude…” Rudy rubbed his eyes. “I’m telling you, I am
“Of course it runs. It runs just fine.” Jack tried to sound confident, though he hadn’t had the vehicle running in over a year. “I’ve just… never actually taken it that far before.”
“Which is another reason why I’m not going with you.”
Jack grew serious. “Look, this is the first real clue to finding out what happened to my dad. Do you have any idea what that means to me?”
“That’s exactly my point. You’re not thinking straight. Your dad disappeared out there somewhere, and now you want to go after him? You don’t think that’s a little dumb? Not to mention dangerous?”
“That’s because he was alone. He didn’t have anyone to watch his back. I’m not going to make that same mistake.”
“No, you’re going to make a whole new one.”
“That’s why I need
“Really? I have a molecular biology degree. How much good will that do you?”
“Come on. You’ve forgotten more about science than I’ll ever know. Plus, you’re the only person I really trust on this.” Jack sighed, and his voice softened. “I’m asking you…
Rudy stared at him for a moment. A long, painful moment. At length he rolled his eyes and took a breath. “Fine. Two weeks. Just don’t get all sappy on me.”
“Great.” Jack grinned and slapped Rudy’s shoulder. “I knew I could depend on you.”
Chapter 03
Eagle Creek Indian Reservation, Western Wyoming
Rain fell in raucous volleys, drumming down on the ramshackle 1978 Winnebago as it crept along a gravel road. Jack gripped the wheel with the resolve of a grizzled sea captain. A metaphor, he decided, that at present was not so far off the mark. Beside him, Rudy was slouched in the passenger seat, baseball cap pulled down over his eyes. Snoring.
Jack had begun planning for this expedition immediately after the estate sale two weeks earlier. He bought all the gear he thought he might need for the trip and packed up his father’s old RV. Then the two of them set out four days ago, making the road trip from Chicago to Wyoming. Rudy had come along as Jack’s science expert, to document the trip on video, and for general moral support.
They lurched through water-filled potholes in the road, some of which looked big enough to have their own lifeguards. The tattered wiper blades swish-swashed valiantly in a hopeless struggle against the barrage of raindrops pelting the windshield like an angry mob lobbing water balloons. Jack knew they could get mired in one of the massive puddles at any second, but he had to keep going. Sheer anticipation was driving him now.
After all these years, he was finally on the cusp of finding some answers.
He could see the A-frame visitor center ahead through the rain and pulled into the small parking lot. The place was empty with the exception of the guy managing the gift shop. He was a burly, middle-aged Caieche with a name badge that read
Jack explained that he was an anthropologist curious about Native American myths and legends. “My father was doing research a while back on a lost civilization that he believed may have existed out here a long time ago. And he seemed to think the Caieche might have some stories about one.”
“Lost civilization?” Ben frowned. “You mean like the Shadow People?”
“Shadow People?” Rudy snorted. “Yeah, that sounds innocuous.”
But Jack ignored him. “What can you tell me about them?”
Ben shrugged. “Well, they’re just a bunch of old ghost stories, really. The N’watu, they’re called. The Shadow People. The legends say they lived inside caves somewhere in the mountains.”
“What mountains? Someplace nearby?”
“No one knows for sure,” Ben said. “Like I said, these were mostly stories we heard as children. But if you really want to know more, you should probably go talk to Running Bear.”
“Running Bear?” Jack said, looking around. “Great. How do I find him?”
“He’s the oldest man on the reservation.” Ben gestured out the window. “He lives in a little shack up in the hills. I close up in a half hour. I can take you past his place if you don’t mind waiting.”
Forty-five minutes later, Jack and Rudy were following Ben’s battered white pickup along the gravel road deeper into the wilderness. They arrived at a dilapidated log cabin perched alone on the crest of a rocky knoll jutting out of the forest and sloshed through the mud onto the sagging front porch, where Ben knocked on the door.
“I can stick around if you want,” he said. “You’ll probably need me to translate anyway.”
“He doesn’t speak English?” Jack said.
Ben chuckled. “Oh, he speaks it okay. He just doesn’t always
After several long moments the door finally opened, and Jack immediately understood why it had taken so long. Peeking out from inside was a shriveled old man. His face was gaunt and leathery and stippled by enormous moles and liver spots. Had Jack not witnessed him moving under his own power, he’d have sworn the little guy was just some mummified museum exhibit.
Ben gave the old man a greeting in the Caieche language and then introduced Jack and Rudy. Running Bear nodded brusquely with his pale eyes sparkling and waved them inside. The one-room hovel was quite warm and smoky with a fire crackling in a small stone fireplace. He motioned for them to sit down, and since there was only one chair in the place, they all took a seat on the dusty wooden floor near the fire.
The rain continued to drum softly on the roof in a mesmerizing rhythm as Ben asked Running Bear to give a brief history of the Shadow People legends.
The old man sucked in a raspy breath and spoke in the Caieche language with a voice that sounded like a
