In a previous post, I published the eleventh part to a story a wrote a while back. Here is the next installment.
Sarah and her group arrived at the end of the Davis Gulch hiking trail. Sarah walked around a surprisingly sharp bend in the canyon and entered a grotto. As she rounded the corner, the canyon became immersed in shade.
Ahead, the trail ended at a smooth rock ledge. To Sarah’s right, the small trickle that composed the Davis Gulch stream slowly flowed over the ledge into a pool below.
The canyon below the drop-off was submerged in the waters of the Lake Powell dam.
Trent and Monique rounded the corner to enter the grotto chamber with Sarah.
“So this is Lake Powell?” Monique asked.
“One of the branches of it, yes,” Sarah replied.
Trent and Monique sat down and pulled their water bottles and snacks out of their packs.
“What about that story you were going to tell us? The legend of Davis Gulch,” Monique said in a spooky, sarcastic tone.
Sarah smiled, then reached down to the ground and picked up a pointed rock about the size of her closed fist.
Sarah walked to the side of the canyon and began to scratch ‘Nemo 2009’ into the wall.
“What are you doing?” Trent asked. “Somebody is bound to be mad about that.”
Sarah stepped back and let her friends see the carving. Monique and Trent stood up.
“Nemo, 2009?” Monique asked, confused.
Sarah sat down next to where Trent and Monique were eating snacks. They sat down next to her.
“Are you ready for an amazing story?” Sarah asked.
“You’ve built it up enough. Let’s…” Trent said, then trailed off.
The group began to notice a low hum reverberating through the canyon. The sound grew. The three members of the group turned their heads to look down towards the lake from where the sound was emanating.
“What is that?” Trent asked.
Sarah listened closely.
“It’s an engine,” Sarah said. “It sounds like a boat.”
Sarah stood and walked to the rock ledge. She tilted her head and struggled to see around the next bend in the canyon. She saw sunlight streaming around the bend, but nothing else was visible.
Trent and Monique stood and walked next to Sarah.
The sound of the engine died. Sarah looked up in surprise. The light on the canyon walls began to be disrupted by the waves from the boat. Sarah looked down at the water to watch the ripples enter into the cavernous pool.
Suddenly, a booming crack filled the air, echoing off the canyon walls in a deafening roar. The noise was quickly muffled by the sound of a deathly scream. It was a man’s voice. Another sound was heard after the scream. It was the sound of something crashing into the water.
“That was a gunshot,” Sarah whispered to her companions.
The next sound was the noise of loud, arguing voices. Sarah inched closer to the edge of the drop-off to try to decipher the voices.
Sarah looked ahead, then made a split-second decision.
“What are you doing?” Trent said, but it was too late.
Sarah jumped over the rock ledge and fell into the pool below.
Trent and Monique watched in shock as Sarah momentarily disappeared into the murky water before her head quickly returned to the surface.
Treading water, Sarah looked up, then turned and swam towards the bend in the canyon ahead.
The sound of the arguing increased in volume. Two men were clearly having a heated discussion. Sarah quietly swam closer to the sound. Trent and Monique watched anxiously.
Sarah continued swimming. Her face glistened as she swam into the streams of light that were bouncing off the pool. Her wet pants clung to her legs, making swimming more difficult.
Sarah reached the next bend in the canyon. She swam around the canyon wall, slowly peeking around the corner. Trent and Monique struggled to be able to see her as she continued to proceed downcanyon.
The argument resounding through the canyon increased in intensity.
Sarah continued rounding the corner and waded into the awaiting sunlight. She was now out of sight from her friends.
A small skiing boat had now become visible to Sarah. She saw four occupants upon the boat. Three of them were Navajos. They were grossly deformed. They were the three Navajos that Sheriff Haas would later apprehend the next day. The other passenger was Pastor Christopher Pollent. Pollent stood at the helm of the boat.
One of the Navajo men had a scuba suit on, with its associated gear.
Pastor Pollent continued arguing with one of the men.
Sarah was only twenty yards away from the boat.
By this point the two men were livid, screaming at each other and pointing down at the water.
Sarah caught sight of something in the water. To the right of the boat, floating towards Sarah, was a body, face down in the water. Sarah gasped, suppressing a terrified scream.
“We’ll attach some weights to him,” Pollent screamed, “and let him sink to the bottom of the lake.”
“And what happens if your plan succeeds?” the Navajo man yelled back. “What if Lake Powell is emptied?”
Pollent pointed towards the dead man floating in the water. He stopped and looked up. He saw Sarah swimming in the water. His eyes met hers. The Navajo man’s voice trailed off as he followed Pollent's gaze.
Sarah quickly turned around and began to swim back the way she had come. She swam hard and fast, hand over hand. Her legs kicked wildly.
Over the sound of her swimming, Sarah could hear the men arguing. She breathed quickly and looked forward. The narrow corner leading back to the grotto was close.
Sarah heard the roar of the boat engine come to life. She dared a glance back behind her. The boat was rearing around towards her. A terrible wake of water followed in its path.
Sarah turned back and swam harder. Her wet pants weighed her down badly.
Trent looked worriedly at the corner where Sarah had disappeared. His eyes searched desperately for any sign of her.
Sarah swam around the corner and came into view of Trent and Monique. The sound of the engine grew louder.
The boat blazed into the grotto like a lion bounding towards its prey. The boat swerved sharply. The bow was headed directly towards Sarah.
Sarah turned and faced the fast approaching boat.
Pollent pulled a lever on the boat. The engine died and the boat immediately began to slow. But Trent could tell that the boat would not even come close to stopping before striking Sarah.
Sarah placed her arms up in terror and plunged under the water. The boat smashed into the canyon wall.
Beneath the water, Sarah braced her hands against the side of the boat. Luckily, she was submerged just deep enough so that the boat did not pin her against the side of the canyon.
The boat rebounded away from the canyon wall and Sarah emerged from beneath the surface of the water.
Propelled by the impact of the collision, a laminated piece of paper fell out of the boat and landed into the water.
Pollent retrieved a gun and pointed it upward at Trent and Monique. Trent and Monique remained motionless. Pollent motioned to Sarah. The Navajo men reached down and pulled Sarah out of the water and onto the boat. Her soaking body flopped onto the carpeted floor of the vessel.
Pollent spoke quickly and aggressively to Trent and Monique. “Get down here right now,” he yelled.
Trent and Monique hesitated momentarily, then they simultaneously jumped into the pool below. They swam over to the boat and climbed onto the stern.
Pollent took a few steps towards the back of the boat and looked at Sarah.
“Strange destination you’ve chosen,” Pollent said. “This isn’t the most popular hike in the area.”
“What do you mean it’s not popular?” Monique said. “We saw two other groups today.”
“Shut up,” Trent said angrily.
Pollent looked at the three hikers, then turned to the Navajo man he had been arguing with before.
“Climb up there and get their belongings,” Pollent ordered.
Pollent returned to the wheel of the boat. He slowly veered the boat closer to the edge of the water.
The Navajo man moved to the side of the boat. He found a crack in the wall near where Sarah had jumped into the water. He stepped out of the boat and began to climb the crack upward.
The Navajo reached the point where Sarah and her group had left their packs. He grabbed the packs and threw them down to the boat below. He was about to climb down to the boat when his eyes caught sight of Sarah’s carving. He stared in confusion for a moment.
“What are you looking at?” Pollent called up.
“It looks like they carved something into the wall,” the Navajo man said.
“What is it?” Pollent asked.
“Nemo, 2009,” he replied.
Pollent turned to Sarah, and stared intently at her for a moment, then smiled.
“I see you know the legend of Davis Gulch,” Pollent said menacingly. He paused, the wheels in his head clearly churning away. “This could play to our advantage,” he said to himself.
Pollent turned back to the Navajo man on the ledge above. “Get down here,” Pollent called. “We’re leaving.”
The Navajo man climbed down the same crack he had climbed up, then hopped into the boat.
The boat turned and drove out of the grotto. The laminated piece of paper that had fallen out of the boat remained inside the pool in the grotto, awaiting its discovery by Jeffery Dyss later that night.
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Chapter 12
November 21st, 2009
Clean Water
“When the well is dry, we know the worth of water.”
- Benjamin Franklin
Sarah and her group arrived at the end of the Davis Gulch hiking trail. Sarah walked around a surprisingly sharp bend in the canyon and entered a grotto. As she rounded the corner, the canyon became immersed in shade.
Ahead, the trail ended at a smooth rock ledge. To Sarah’s right, the small trickle that composed the Davis Gulch stream slowly flowed over the ledge into a pool below.
The canyon below the drop-off was submerged in the waters of the Lake Powell dam.
Trent and Monique rounded the corner to enter the grotto chamber with Sarah.
“So this is Lake Powell?” Monique asked.
“One of the branches of it, yes,” Sarah replied.
Trent and Monique sat down and pulled their water bottles and snacks out of their packs.
“What about that story you were going to tell us? The legend of Davis Gulch,” Monique said in a spooky, sarcastic tone.
Sarah smiled, then reached down to the ground and picked up a pointed rock about the size of her closed fist.
Sarah walked to the side of the canyon and began to scratch ‘Nemo 2009’ into the wall.
“What are you doing?” Trent asked. “Somebody is bound to be mad about that.”
Sarah stepped back and let her friends see the carving. Monique and Trent stood up.
“Nemo, 2009?” Monique asked, confused.
Sarah sat down next to where Trent and Monique were eating snacks. They sat down next to her.
“Are you ready for an amazing story?” Sarah asked.
“You’ve built it up enough. Let’s…” Trent said, then trailed off.
The group began to notice a low hum reverberating through the canyon. The sound grew. The three members of the group turned their heads to look down towards the lake from where the sound was emanating.
“What is that?” Trent asked.
Sarah listened closely.
“It’s an engine,” Sarah said. “It sounds like a boat.”
Sarah stood and walked to the rock ledge. She tilted her head and struggled to see around the next bend in the canyon. She saw sunlight streaming around the bend, but nothing else was visible.
Trent and Monique stood and walked next to Sarah.
The sound of the engine died. Sarah looked up in surprise. The light on the canyon walls began to be disrupted by the waves from the boat. Sarah looked down at the water to watch the ripples enter into the cavernous pool.
Suddenly, a booming crack filled the air, echoing off the canyon walls in a deafening roar. The noise was quickly muffled by the sound of a deathly scream. It was a man’s voice. Another sound was heard after the scream. It was the sound of something crashing into the water.
“That was a gunshot,” Sarah whispered to her companions.
The next sound was the noise of loud, arguing voices. Sarah inched closer to the edge of the drop-off to try to decipher the voices.
Sarah looked ahead, then made a split-second decision.
“What are you doing?” Trent said, but it was too late.
Sarah jumped over the rock ledge and fell into the pool below.
Trent and Monique watched in shock as Sarah momentarily disappeared into the murky water before her head quickly returned to the surface.
Treading water, Sarah looked up, then turned and swam towards the bend in the canyon ahead.
The sound of the arguing increased in volume. Two men were clearly having a heated discussion. Sarah quietly swam closer to the sound. Trent and Monique watched anxiously.
Sarah continued swimming. Her face glistened as she swam into the streams of light that were bouncing off the pool. Her wet pants clung to her legs, making swimming more difficult.
Sarah reached the next bend in the canyon. She swam around the canyon wall, slowly peeking around the corner. Trent and Monique struggled to be able to see her as she continued to proceed downcanyon.
The argument resounding through the canyon increased in intensity.
Sarah continued rounding the corner and waded into the awaiting sunlight. She was now out of sight from her friends.
A small skiing boat had now become visible to Sarah. She saw four occupants upon the boat. Three of them were Navajos. They were grossly deformed. They were the three Navajos that Sheriff Haas would later apprehend the next day. The other passenger was Pastor Christopher Pollent. Pollent stood at the helm of the boat.
One of the Navajo men had a scuba suit on, with its associated gear.
Pastor Pollent continued arguing with one of the men.
Sarah was only twenty yards away from the boat.
By this point the two men were livid, screaming at each other and pointing down at the water.
Sarah caught sight of something in the water. To the right of the boat, floating towards Sarah, was a body, face down in the water. Sarah gasped, suppressing a terrified scream.
“We’ll attach some weights to him,” Pollent screamed, “and let him sink to the bottom of the lake.”
“And what happens if your plan succeeds?” the Navajo man yelled back. “What if Lake Powell is emptied?”
Pollent pointed towards the dead man floating in the water. He stopped and looked up. He saw Sarah swimming in the water. His eyes met hers. The Navajo man’s voice trailed off as he followed Pollent's gaze.
Sarah quickly turned around and began to swim back the way she had come. She swam hard and fast, hand over hand. Her legs kicked wildly.
Over the sound of her swimming, Sarah could hear the men arguing. She breathed quickly and looked forward. The narrow corner leading back to the grotto was close.
Sarah heard the roar of the boat engine come to life. She dared a glance back behind her. The boat was rearing around towards her. A terrible wake of water followed in its path.
Sarah turned back and swam harder. Her wet pants weighed her down badly.
Trent looked worriedly at the corner where Sarah had disappeared. His eyes searched desperately for any sign of her.
Sarah swam around the corner and came into view of Trent and Monique. The sound of the engine grew louder.
The boat blazed into the grotto like a lion bounding towards its prey. The boat swerved sharply. The bow was headed directly towards Sarah.
Sarah turned and faced the fast approaching boat.
Pollent pulled a lever on the boat. The engine died and the boat immediately began to slow. But Trent could tell that the boat would not even come close to stopping before striking Sarah.
Sarah placed her arms up in terror and plunged under the water. The boat smashed into the canyon wall.
Beneath the water, Sarah braced her hands against the side of the boat. Luckily, she was submerged just deep enough so that the boat did not pin her against the side of the canyon.
The boat rebounded away from the canyon wall and Sarah emerged from beneath the surface of the water.
Propelled by the impact of the collision, a laminated piece of paper fell out of the boat and landed into the water.
Pollent retrieved a gun and pointed it upward at Trent and Monique. Trent and Monique remained motionless. Pollent motioned to Sarah. The Navajo men reached down and pulled Sarah out of the water and onto the boat. Her soaking body flopped onto the carpeted floor of the vessel.
Pollent spoke quickly and aggressively to Trent and Monique. “Get down here right now,” he yelled.
Trent and Monique hesitated momentarily, then they simultaneously jumped into the pool below. They swam over to the boat and climbed onto the stern.
Pollent took a few steps towards the back of the boat and looked at Sarah.
“Strange destination you’ve chosen,” Pollent said. “This isn’t the most popular hike in the area.”
“What do you mean it’s not popular?” Monique said. “We saw two other groups today.”
“Shut up,” Trent said angrily.
Pollent looked at the three hikers, then turned to the Navajo man he had been arguing with before.
“Climb up there and get their belongings,” Pollent ordered.
Pollent returned to the wheel of the boat. He slowly veered the boat closer to the edge of the water.
The Navajo man moved to the side of the boat. He found a crack in the wall near where Sarah had jumped into the water. He stepped out of the boat and began to climb the crack upward.
The Navajo reached the point where Sarah and her group had left their packs. He grabbed the packs and threw them down to the boat below. He was about to climb down to the boat when his eyes caught sight of Sarah’s carving. He stared in confusion for a moment.
“What are you looking at?” Pollent called up.
“It looks like they carved something into the wall,” the Navajo man said.
“What is it?” Pollent asked.
“Nemo, 2009,” he replied.
Pollent turned to Sarah, and stared intently at her for a moment, then smiled.
“I see you know the legend of Davis Gulch,” Pollent said menacingly. He paused, the wheels in his head clearly churning away. “This could play to our advantage,” he said to himself.
Pollent turned back to the Navajo man on the ledge above. “Get down here,” Pollent called. “We’re leaving.”
The Navajo man climbed down the same crack he had climbed up, then hopped into the boat.
The boat turned and drove out of the grotto. The laminated piece of paper that had fallen out of the boat remained inside the pool in the grotto, awaiting its discovery by Jeffery Dyss later that night.
Continue reading the next chapter >>>
<<< Go back to the previous chapter
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