Arresting the
Warlord
Gail Koger
Copyright © June 2020 by Gail Koger
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Gail Koger. Please do not participate or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized copies.
Image/art disclaimer: Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.
Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs
Published in the United States of America
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events, existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Books in the Coletti Warlord series
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my parents.
Prologue
The crawlies woke me. The crawlies meant the bad men were coming. I scrambled over to Mama and shook her awake. “Mama. Bad men.”
Mama wearily opened her eyes. “You sure, baby?”
I nodded.
She shot out of the bed and hurriedly dressed. “Put your shoes on and get your satchel.”
I quickly obeyed.
Mama gathered up our things. “How far away?”
I held up both hands.
“Ten minutes?”
I bobbed my head. “They mad.”
“So am I, CeeCee. So am I.” Mama scooped me up, carried me out to our old, rusty van and buckled me into my car seat. “I love you baby.”
The crawlies got worse. “Go now. They come, Mama.”
“I’ll find us someplace safe. I promise.” Mama got in the car and started the engine.
Safe? My belly twisted as the images of hissing fire snakes flashed across my mind. I remembered the heat, the struggle to breathe, the windows exploding, raining broken glass down on us. Mama’s cries of fear and horror when the bad men killed Uncle Max. We hid under the chicken house until they left.
An overwhelming sadness filled me. Why hadn’t Daddy Aldo come for us? Mama wanted to look for him, but the bad men kept chasing us. What had we done to make them so mad?
The road stretched out like a silver ribbon. In the distance, fiery snakes danced across the black clouds. Had the fire snakes found us again?
“Where are the bad men CeeCee?”
I concentrated. “Motel.”
“Good. Maybe I can lose them on the reservation.”
“What reservation?”
“It’s where the Navajo people live.”
“Can we live there too?”
“No, baby.”
Bang! The car swerved violently and suddenly we were tumbling over and over. Thud! The car stopped abruptly. The straps of my car seat bit into my chest, making it hard to breathe. “Mama!”
Mama moaned.
“Mama! What happened Mama?”
“Are. Are you hurt?” Mama gasped.
“Me kay.” My hands fumbled with the buckles. Had to get to Mama. I could feel her going into the light like Uncle Max. “No go Mama. No go. Stay.” The straps gave way and I crawled into the front seat. Mama’s face looked funny and there was blood everywhere.
Mama’s hand touched my cheek. “Love. You. So. Much.”
I grabbed her hand. “Stay with me.”
Mama closed her eyes.
“Mama needs help,” I cried desperately. “Please. Help Mama.”
“Where are you, little one?” A warm, reassuring male voice said in my head.
“Don’t know. Car crashed.”
“Look around. What do you see?” The mental voice was reassuring and at the same time full of authority.
The lightning illuminated an upside-down tree. The twisted roots formed a man pointing at the road. “A pointing man.”
“I know where you are, and I will come for you.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. My name’s Samuel. What’s yours?”
“CeeCee.”
“Okay, CeeCee, keep talking to your mother.”
“I try, but the light calls to her.”
“You can see the light?”
“Uh huh, it took Uncle Max and I don’t want it to take Mama too.”
Samuel brushed my mind in a gentle caress. “You’re a special child.”
“That’s what Mama says. Is that why bad men want to kill us?”
“I won’t let them hurt you.”
Somehow, I believed him. “Kay.”
Mama moaned. “Baby?”
“I here.” I patted her face. “Samuel is coming to help you.”
“Where. Bad. Men?”
I frowned and focused on them. A quick wash of fear swept over me. They were close. “Samuel, bad men come.”
“I sense them. I want you to run and hide.”
“Won’t leave Mama.”
“Baby. Where bad men?”
Headlights pierced the darkness.
“Here, Mama.”
“Find. Find my purse. Get. Gun.”
“Yes, Mama.” I looked around. The strap of her purse protruded from under the seat. Grabbing it, I opened it and carefully picked up the gun. “Here Mama.”
She took the gun. “Hide CeeCee.”
“No. Stay with you,” I told her.
“Stubborn. Like your dad.”
“Me are.”
A dark form loomed up. “Gotcha, bitch.”
Boom! The gunshot echoed loudly in the quiet night.
The man grunted and fell.
“You fucking bitch,” another man yelled.
Whoosh! A knife suddenly penetrated his chest. A look of shock on his face, he toppled over.
“Samuel?”
“Yes, CeeCee. Let me have a look at your mother.” A tall man with long silver hair leaned into the car. Samuel placed his hand on Mama’s head and sighed. “It’s her time, little one.”
Tears poured down my cheeks. “No! I won’t let it take her.” With every ounce of strength I had, I fought back the light. “Go away. Go away.”
“Stop child. Would you doom her to wander forever in the void?”
I shook my head and let the radiance engulf Mama.
The pain vanished from Mama’s face and she grabbed Samuel’s arm. “Promise. Promise me you’ll keep her safe.”
“You have my word. I will raise CeeCee as my own.”
“Thank. You.” The breath rattled in Mama’s chest and she passed into the light.
“Mama,” I sobbed.
Samuel cradled me in his arms. “Shush, daughter, she has joined her ancestors. You’re safe now.”
And I was. I became CeeCee Tsosie, the daughter of Samuel Tsosie, a powerful Navajo shaman. With my Italian heritage, I blended right in. My adopted father taught me
