Juan continued:
The new man had obviously been in the wilderness for some time. His hair and beard were long and unkempt and he was deeply wrinkled as if he had spent his entire life under the abuse of the desert sun.
The man kept his head down for the first few days and Adahy thought perhaps the man had died. Then one morning, the man raised his head and looked directly at Juan, “You are different.”
Juan studied the man before replying. “Some say so. What do they call you?”
“They call me many things: crazy, insane. My name is Morgan and I am a Shaman. I was sent here to rescue you.”
“I don’t understand,” Adahy said. “Who would know that we’re here?”
“You know that you’re here,” Morgan answered. “Perhaps you are the one who called me.”
Adahy laughed tersely, “Perhaps you are all of those things they call you.”
“We should trust him,” Juan instructed.
Adahy was surprised. “You’re serious? We should trust this insane man?”
“I can see his spirit, which is very old. Much older than the man you see before you. This man was sent here to help us and we should listen to him. Look into his eyes and you’ll see what I say is true.”
And so Adahy did; and he saw what Juan spoke was true.
“I will trust Morgan, as you do,” Adahy agreed.
Juan started to speak to Morgan but was interrupted by the sliding of the lock that barred their cell. At the open doorway stood the man responsible for their imprisonment: McKale.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
“My people once had a village on this land,” Morgan said in the quiet of the night. “We’ve been here for generations beyond memory.
“When I was a child, the army came north and took our lands. This jail was built on top of our temple. The caves that ran under our temple are still there.”
The comment garnered the attention of Juan. “Are the caves still accessible?”
“The entrance is a hole in the store room of this jail. The cold air from the caves keeps the store room cool.”
“Where do these caves go?” Adahy asked.
“There are a series of caves that come out many miles to the north.”
“Why are you just now mentioning this?” Juan asked.
“Because you were not ready to leave.”
Juan left the comment alone and turned focus back to the layout of the caves. They discussed until Juan was comfortable with the plan, which was to make their break the next morning and with the first light of the new day.
The guards came just after dawn to administer the first round of that day’s beatings. As the first guard approached, Juan touched him and his body fell lifeless to the ground. The other guard came to his aid and met the same fate.
They stole the keys and clothing from the guards and moved stealthily to the store room were they found a third guard; Juan disposed of him as well. Inside the store room, just as Morgan said, was the hole.
The store room contained several barrels of dried corn and salted meat and they filled their pockets with as much as they could carry. Juan lifted a lantern hanging from the wall and followed Morgan and Adahy into the caves by way of a crude stairway of rocks that jutted from the cave wall.
Light from the lantern illuminated the burial tombs of Morgan’s people: a half a mile of clothed skeletons lined the walls on both sides. From there, the ground began to slope downwards and they found themselves going deeper into the ground.
“Morgan, how long do these caves go on?” Juan asked.
“They stretch for nearly forty miles. They exit near an old village site of my people.”
They ran for four hours and Juan estimated they had traveled at least half the distance of the caves. “We’ll make camp here. We need to find water if we’re going to survive.” They searched and gathered water dripping from the roof of the cave. They were not certain the water was good but had little choice.
They settled in around the frigid cave to get some semblance of sleep. “Who is McKale?” Morgan asked Juan.
“He’s not who he says he is. And he’s very dangerous.”
“What does he want of you?”
Juan half-smiled. “He would like to kill me. But that is not likely to happen and he knows that. Instead, he chooses to make life difficult for me when he can.”
“Why does he want to kill you?”
“He and I are alike in many ways. But while I only kill when absolute necessary, he kills because he can. I’m a challenge for him. And so, he will continue to try to kill me; just because he can.”
“Why don’t you kill him?”
“I have more to worry about than killing McKale. Besides, it’s complicated.”
Morgan let it go at that and drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, they began their trek not knowing the time of day or if they were pursued. They walked for several hours and soon sunlight began to fill cracks in the ceiling. The air began to smell fresher.
The cave narrowed and up ahead, they noticed a bend to the left. As they made their way around the bend, brilliant sunlight blinded them: they had found the mouth of the cave.
They waited for their eyes to adjust to the light before exiting, not wanting to leave the cave and fall into a ravine. With their eyes restored, Adahy crept to the mouth of the cave and looked out. He did not see anyone but could not be sure. The land surrounding the mouth of the cave was mostly flat desert but there were several
