In a previous post, I published the thirteenth part to a story a wrote a while back. Here is the next installment.
Pollent’s boat had remained on the Lake Powell waters throughout the night. The constant rocking of the waves had made getting sleep difficult.
Sarah Callahan stirred awake as the first rays of the morning light of November 22nd, 2009, were dispersing the darkness of the night. Sarah and her companions were still bound and gagged.
Sarah awoke just in time to see Pollent slowly drive the boat up onto a sandy shore. The group was inside one of the many canyon inlets of Lake Powell.
Pollent grabbed a pack and moved to the bow of the boat. He stepped onto the edge of the ship and jumped down to the shore.
“Where are you going?” one of the Navajo men asked.
“I have a sermon to give,” Pollent replied. “I’ll call you on the radio as soon as I get into town.” He paused, then motioned to Sarah. “Make sure you keep them under control.”
Pollent began hiking up the canyon, away from the lake.
——————————
As the morning passed, the three Navajo men decided to drive the boat to a more secluded spot on Lake Powell until Pollent was ready to be picked up. When the boat reached an isolated, open spot on the lake, the Navajo man that was driving brought the boat to a stop and turned the engine off.
In the back of the boat, Sarah grunted loudly through the cloth in her mouth. The other Navajo men, seated near the bow of the boat, looked back at her. Sarah continued to grunt. The man driving the boat walked back to her and removed the cloth.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Sarah said.
The three men looked at each other. One of them began to untie Sarah.
“The water is freezing cold,” he said emotionlessly.
“I know why your face looks like that,” Sarah said quietly.
The Navajo man remained silent.
“The bleeding, the sores, the disfiguration,” Sarah said. “They’re all tell-tale signs of radiation poisoning.”
The man finished untying Sarah. She slowly stood up. The Navajo man turned and began walking to the bow. Sarah slowly followed him until she reached the helm.
With all the force she could muster, Sarah pushed the Navajo man forward. He fell to the floor of the boat. Sarah grabbed the radio from the dash of the boat and moved to the back of the vessel. As she moved, she turned the dial of the radio to the emergency channel, 9.
Sarah pressed the button of the radio down and yelled into the speaker. She spoke in an extremely distressed voice.
“My name is Sarah Callahan. I’ve been kidnapped. They’re planning on blowing up the Manhattan waste tail piles!”
Inside the Escalante sheriff’s office, the radio on Sheriff Haas’ desk recorded the muddled incoming message from Sarah.
“..ame is Sarah Callaha... Manhattan wa...”
The Navajo man stood up and moved to Sarah. He slapped her across the face and took the radio from her hands. An angry look crossed his distorted face.
——————————
After returning from the sermon that Pastor Pollent had given, Haas, Dyss, Desi, and Pollent were gathered around Haas’ desk. Haas was speaking to the water treatment worker from Boulder. The worker had just informed Haas of the four testers his company had sent to Escalante.
“Maybe you should check on the other workers, make sure they’re alright,” the worker said over the phone.
“We’ll do that,” Haas replied. “Thanks for the call.”
Haas hung up the phone and turned to Dyss.
“Looks like we’re going for another helicopter ride,” Haas said. “Desi, I hate to ask, but are you able to come with us to Zebra Canyon? We might need your translational skills again.”
“Of course,” Desi replied.
“Pastor Pollent,” Haas said, “we’re a little short-staffed around here on Sundays. Do you know how to work a radio?”
“Yes,” Pollent replied.
“Great, we’ll keep in touch.
Haas, Dyss, and Desi left the office to head for the helicopter.
Pollent watched the group leave and enter Haas’ car.
Pollent moved to the seat of the desk and sat down. He flicked a switch on the radio. A red light turned off. The radio was now no longer recording incoming and outgoing messages.
Pollent changed the frequency of the radio, then grabbed the talking piece.
“This is Sarard,” Pollent said. “Is anyone there?”
On the Lake Powell waters, the three Navajo men heard Pollent’s transmission and looked towards the radio. One of the men quickly answered.
“We’re here,” he spoke into the transmitter.
Inside the Escalante sheriff’s office, Pollent looked out the window at the road to see Haas’ car driving away.
“Things are going very well,“ Pollent said. “The authorities here have no idea what is happening. They’ve concocted some ridiculous story about the fountain of youth.”
Pollent paused.
“But the President’s aide has not been as cooperative as I had hoped. We need to keep the Sheriff distracted for a little while longer.”
“What do you need us to do?” the Navajo man asked.
“The water treatment plant in Boulder,” Pollent said, “has sent out four men to test the recent anomalies in the water.”
“That’s who we ran into last night in Coyote Gulch?” the Navajo man asked.
“Exactly,” Pollent said. “The sheriff is leaving right now to try to meet one of the other men. I need you to beat him there. I need you to go to Zebra Canyon. The water tester will more than likely be near the tail pile. Find him and kill him.”
Pollent paused.
“We may be able to use this fountain of youth garbage to confuse the Sheriff and his friends,” Pollent said. “Somewhere near where you leave the body, write something like ‘ataga ‘hi’ in the sand.”
Another pause.
“And stay close to your radio,” Pollent yelled.
Pollent placed the radio down and retrieved a cell phone from his pocket. He placed a call to Ashton, then smiled.
“We’ll play along with Desi’s fountain of youth game,” Pollent mused to himself.
The phone connected to its caller.
“How are your analysts doing?” Pollent said shrewdly to Ashton. “This must be hard work for them. Have they still not discovered how I plan to destroy forty million people?”
——————————
Standing outside the helicopter near Zebra Canyon, Dyss, Haas, Desi, and the helicopter pilot were talking about the three Navajo men the pilot had just seen. Dyss, Desi, and Haas had already discovered the dead body in the canyon.
In the far distance they saw three Navajo men walking on a sand hill. The Navajo men stopped and stared coldly in their direction.
“Should we go after them?” Dyss asked? “What if these Navajo guys killed that John Doe we just saw in the canyon?”
“Someone’s dead in the canyon?” the pilot asked? “I don’t think those Navajos had anything to do with it. Just a few old kooks trying to spook me.”
“I don’t know if we have time to be chasing ghosts,” Haas said. “We have to get to Neon Canyon and find the worker that is testing the water there.” Haas scratched his jaw in thought. “I’ll call Pollent on the radio and have him send someone out here to keep an eye on those Navajo men.”
“Good idea,” Dyss said. “I’ll call the park rangers on the radio and have them detain these guys at the trailhead exit if need be.”
“Yeah,” Haas said. “Besides, the nearest road is thirty miles away. We can always come back here after we go to Neon Canyon.”
The group moved towards the helicopter and climbed in.
“There’s a radio under the seat there,” Haas said to Dyss.
Dyss reached under the seat and felt a heavy, cold object. He pulled it out and saw that it was a handgun.
Haas saw the gun and hesitated. “Better take it with you just in case,” he said.
Dyss pocketed the gun, then felt under the seat again and found the radio.
Haas took the radio and hailed Pastor Pollent.
“Pastor Pollent, are you still there?” Haas said.
Inside the Escalante sheriff’s office, Pollent listened as Haas caught him up to speed on the events of the day.
“Thanks for the update,” Pollent said. “Keep me posted.”
Pollent quickly changed the radio station.
“This is Sarard. Anyone there?”
On the sand hill near Zebra Canyon, the three Navajo men heard Pollent’s transmission come through the radio. One of the men held up the radio to his mouth and responded.
“We can hear you.”
“I’ve just learned where the other two men are testing the waters,” Pollent said. “I need you to find these men and kill them as as fast as you can. The two men will be in Neon Canyon and Davis Gulch. Again, you should be able to find them near the uranium tail piles. Go to Neon Canyon first. Take the boat and get there as fast as you can.”
——————————
On a sandy beach near Zebra Canyon, Sarah, Trent, and Monique were still tied up and gagged in the back of Pollent’s boat. They struggled to untie their knots without success.
——————————
Inside the SAR Helicopter on the way to Neon Canyon, Dyss and Haas were huddled closely to Desi to hear the story of Everett Ruess, the modern-day Nemo. The helicopter blades thumped loudly.
“Wallace Stegner has..." Desi began the story.
Haas motioned to his ears, signifying that he couldn’t hear Desi. Haas grabbed a set of headphones on the floor and placed them over his ears. Both Desi and Dyss found a set of headphones and placed them on their heads. The sound of the helicopter blades was greatly diminished. Desi continued her story.
“Wallace Stegner has the earliest and most complete account of the history of Everett Ruess.”
Inside the Escalante sheriff’s office, Pollent waited anxiously for the next radio call from Haas.
The radio strangely crackled to life with a most bizarre narrative about an explorer named Everett Ruess, a tale that Pollent was well familiar with.
Because Haas, Dyss, and Desi had placed their headphones on, Pollent was able to hear the entire story of Everett Ruess. Pollent listened closely, then smiled.
——————————
The three Navajo men arrived back to their boat. Sarah, Trent, and Monique were still struggling with their knots. The three Navajo men hopped onboard and began to race towards Neon Canyon.
——————————
Inside the Escalante sheriff’s office, Pollent listened intently as Desi told the story of Everett Ruess.
“On the wall of the cave,” Desi was saying, “Everett scraped away the soot and scrawled something into the wall. A message, a clue, or perhaps, a legend.”
“Nemo,” Dyss said.
“Nemo, 1934,” Desi replied.
“Seventy five years ago,” Dyss said.
“Perhaps to the day,” Desi replied.
Pollent switched the channel on the radio and hailed his Navajo cohorts.
Inside Neon Canyon, the three Navajo men were standing next to the dead body of the water tester when they heard Pollent’s radio transmission.
“We’re here,” one of the men replied to Pollent.
“Have you found the man in Neon Canyon yet?” Pollent asked.
“Yes,” the Navajo replied. “We’re looking at him right now. He’s dead.”
Listen,” Pollent said excitedly, “this is what I want you to write next to the body.”
Pollent paused, then spoke with clarity so his words could not be misheard. “Nemo is alive.”
Another pause.
“And then get over to Davis Gulch as quick as you can,” Pollent yelled.
——————————
Pollent’s boat slowly pulled into the grotto where Sarah and her friends had been kidnapped the evening before. The Navajo man that had climbed the crack the day before again stepped onto the edge of the boat. He grasped the canyon wall, then climbed the crack. He had two ropes around his shoulder.
When he reached the top, he tied one of the ropes to a large boulder and threw it down to the boat below. The other two Navajo men began to climb the rope. Before the final man climbed, he double-checked the knots that were holding Sarah, Trent, and Monique in place.
When all three Navajo men had reached the top, they began to hike up the canyon.
——————————
At the makeshift sacrificial altar inside Davis Gulch, the three Navajo men were gathered around their victim. The blades of the SAR helicopter were heard above. One of the Navajo men retrieved a large knife from his pocket.
——————————
Later on, inside the SAR helicopter, Dyss climbed the final rungs of the ladder and entered the helicopter door. To his surprise, the three Navajo men were seated inside the helicopter, and handcuffed to a rail.
“We got ‘em,” Haas said. “There’s no escaping a chopper.
Dyss nodded. “That’s good news.”
Continue reading the next chapter >>>
<<< Go back to the previous chapter
Chapter 14
November 22nd, 2009
Pollent’s boat had remained on the Lake Powell waters throughout the night. The constant rocking of the waves had made getting sleep difficult.
Sarah Callahan stirred awake as the first rays of the morning light of November 22nd, 2009, were dispersing the darkness of the night. Sarah and her companions were still bound and gagged.
Sarah awoke just in time to see Pollent slowly drive the boat up onto a sandy shore. The group was inside one of the many canyon inlets of Lake Powell.
Pollent grabbed a pack and moved to the bow of the boat. He stepped onto the edge of the ship and jumped down to the shore.
“Where are you going?” one of the Navajo men asked.
“I have a sermon to give,” Pollent replied. “I’ll call you on the radio as soon as I get into town.” He paused, then motioned to Sarah. “Make sure you keep them under control.”
Pollent began hiking up the canyon, away from the lake.
——————————
As the morning passed, the three Navajo men decided to drive the boat to a more secluded spot on Lake Powell until Pollent was ready to be picked up. When the boat reached an isolated, open spot on the lake, the Navajo man that was driving brought the boat to a stop and turned the engine off.
In the back of the boat, Sarah grunted loudly through the cloth in her mouth. The other Navajo men, seated near the bow of the boat, looked back at her. Sarah continued to grunt. The man driving the boat walked back to her and removed the cloth.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Sarah said.
The three men looked at each other. One of them began to untie Sarah.
“The water is freezing cold,” he said emotionlessly.
“I know why your face looks like that,” Sarah said quietly.
The Navajo man remained silent.
“The bleeding, the sores, the disfiguration,” Sarah said. “They’re all tell-tale signs of radiation poisoning.”
The man finished untying Sarah. She slowly stood up. The Navajo man turned and began walking to the bow. Sarah slowly followed him until she reached the helm.
With all the force she could muster, Sarah pushed the Navajo man forward. He fell to the floor of the boat. Sarah grabbed the radio from the dash of the boat and moved to the back of the vessel. As she moved, she turned the dial of the radio to the emergency channel, 9.
Sarah pressed the button of the radio down and yelled into the speaker. She spoke in an extremely distressed voice.
“My name is Sarah Callahan. I’ve been kidnapped. They’re planning on blowing up the Manhattan waste tail piles!”
Inside the Escalante sheriff’s office, the radio on Sheriff Haas’ desk recorded the muddled incoming message from Sarah.
“..ame is Sarah Callaha... Manhattan wa...”
The Navajo man stood up and moved to Sarah. He slapped her across the face and took the radio from her hands. An angry look crossed his distorted face.
——————————
After returning from the sermon that Pastor Pollent had given, Haas, Dyss, Desi, and Pollent were gathered around Haas’ desk. Haas was speaking to the water treatment worker from Boulder. The worker had just informed Haas of the four testers his company had sent to Escalante.
“Maybe you should check on the other workers, make sure they’re alright,” the worker said over the phone.
“We’ll do that,” Haas replied. “Thanks for the call.”
Haas hung up the phone and turned to Dyss.
“Looks like we’re going for another helicopter ride,” Haas said. “Desi, I hate to ask, but are you able to come with us to Zebra Canyon? We might need your translational skills again.”
“Of course,” Desi replied.
“Pastor Pollent,” Haas said, “we’re a little short-staffed around here on Sundays. Do you know how to work a radio?”
“Yes,” Pollent replied.
“Great, we’ll keep in touch.
Haas, Dyss, and Desi left the office to head for the helicopter.
Pollent watched the group leave and enter Haas’ car.
Pollent moved to the seat of the desk and sat down. He flicked a switch on the radio. A red light turned off. The radio was now no longer recording incoming and outgoing messages.
Pollent changed the frequency of the radio, then grabbed the talking piece.
“This is Sarard,” Pollent said. “Is anyone there?”
On the Lake Powell waters, the three Navajo men heard Pollent’s transmission and looked towards the radio. One of the men quickly answered.
“We’re here,” he spoke into the transmitter.
Inside the Escalante sheriff’s office, Pollent looked out the window at the road to see Haas’ car driving away.
“Things are going very well,“ Pollent said. “The authorities here have no idea what is happening. They’ve concocted some ridiculous story about the fountain of youth.”
Pollent paused.
“But the President’s aide has not been as cooperative as I had hoped. We need to keep the Sheriff distracted for a little while longer.”
“What do you need us to do?” the Navajo man asked.
“The water treatment plant in Boulder,” Pollent said, “has sent out four men to test the recent anomalies in the water.”
“That’s who we ran into last night in Coyote Gulch?” the Navajo man asked.
“Exactly,” Pollent said. “The sheriff is leaving right now to try to meet one of the other men. I need you to beat him there. I need you to go to Zebra Canyon. The water tester will more than likely be near the tail pile. Find him and kill him.”
Pollent paused.
“We may be able to use this fountain of youth garbage to confuse the Sheriff and his friends,” Pollent said. “Somewhere near where you leave the body, write something like ‘ataga ‘hi’ in the sand.”
Another pause.
“And stay close to your radio,” Pollent yelled.
Pollent placed the radio down and retrieved a cell phone from his pocket. He placed a call to Ashton, then smiled.
“We’ll play along with Desi’s fountain of youth game,” Pollent mused to himself.
The phone connected to its caller.
“How are your analysts doing?” Pollent said shrewdly to Ashton. “This must be hard work for them. Have they still not discovered how I plan to destroy forty million people?”
——————————
Standing outside the helicopter near Zebra Canyon, Dyss, Haas, Desi, and the helicopter pilot were talking about the three Navajo men the pilot had just seen. Dyss, Desi, and Haas had already discovered the dead body in the canyon.
In the far distance they saw three Navajo men walking on a sand hill. The Navajo men stopped and stared coldly in their direction.
“Should we go after them?” Dyss asked? “What if these Navajo guys killed that John Doe we just saw in the canyon?”
“Someone’s dead in the canyon?” the pilot asked? “I don’t think those Navajos had anything to do with it. Just a few old kooks trying to spook me.”
“I don’t know if we have time to be chasing ghosts,” Haas said. “We have to get to Neon Canyon and find the worker that is testing the water there.” Haas scratched his jaw in thought. “I’ll call Pollent on the radio and have him send someone out here to keep an eye on those Navajo men.”
“Good idea,” Dyss said. “I’ll call the park rangers on the radio and have them detain these guys at the trailhead exit if need be.”
“Yeah,” Haas said. “Besides, the nearest road is thirty miles away. We can always come back here after we go to Neon Canyon.”
The group moved towards the helicopter and climbed in.
“There’s a radio under the seat there,” Haas said to Dyss.
Dyss reached under the seat and felt a heavy, cold object. He pulled it out and saw that it was a handgun.
Haas saw the gun and hesitated. “Better take it with you just in case,” he said.
Dyss pocketed the gun, then felt under the seat again and found the radio.
Haas took the radio and hailed Pastor Pollent.
“Pastor Pollent, are you still there?” Haas said.
Inside the Escalante sheriff’s office, Pollent listened as Haas caught him up to speed on the events of the day.
“Thanks for the update,” Pollent said. “Keep me posted.”
Pollent quickly changed the radio station.
“This is Sarard. Anyone there?”
On the sand hill near Zebra Canyon, the three Navajo men heard Pollent’s transmission come through the radio. One of the men held up the radio to his mouth and responded.
“We can hear you.”
“I’ve just learned where the other two men are testing the waters,” Pollent said. “I need you to find these men and kill them as as fast as you can. The two men will be in Neon Canyon and Davis Gulch. Again, you should be able to find them near the uranium tail piles. Go to Neon Canyon first. Take the boat and get there as fast as you can.”
——————————
On a sandy beach near Zebra Canyon, Sarah, Trent, and Monique were still tied up and gagged in the back of Pollent’s boat. They struggled to untie their knots without success.
——————————
Inside the SAR Helicopter on the way to Neon Canyon, Dyss and Haas were huddled closely to Desi to hear the story of Everett Ruess, the modern-day Nemo. The helicopter blades thumped loudly.
“Wallace Stegner has..." Desi began the story.
Haas motioned to his ears, signifying that he couldn’t hear Desi. Haas grabbed a set of headphones on the floor and placed them over his ears. Both Desi and Dyss found a set of headphones and placed them on their heads. The sound of the helicopter blades was greatly diminished. Desi continued her story.
“Wallace Stegner has the earliest and most complete account of the history of Everett Ruess.”
Inside the Escalante sheriff’s office, Pollent waited anxiously for the next radio call from Haas.
The radio strangely crackled to life with a most bizarre narrative about an explorer named Everett Ruess, a tale that Pollent was well familiar with.
Because Haas, Dyss, and Desi had placed their headphones on, Pollent was able to hear the entire story of Everett Ruess. Pollent listened closely, then smiled.
——————————
The three Navajo men arrived back to their boat. Sarah, Trent, and Monique were still struggling with their knots. The three Navajo men hopped onboard and began to race towards Neon Canyon.
——————————
Inside the Escalante sheriff’s office, Pollent listened intently as Desi told the story of Everett Ruess.
“On the wall of the cave,” Desi was saying, “Everett scraped away the soot and scrawled something into the wall. A message, a clue, or perhaps, a legend.”
“Nemo,” Dyss said.
“Nemo, 1934,” Desi replied.
“Seventy five years ago,” Dyss said.
“Perhaps to the day,” Desi replied.
Pollent switched the channel on the radio and hailed his Navajo cohorts.
Inside Neon Canyon, the three Navajo men were standing next to the dead body of the water tester when they heard Pollent’s radio transmission.
“We’re here,” one of the men replied to Pollent.
“Have you found the man in Neon Canyon yet?” Pollent asked.
“Yes,” the Navajo replied. “We’re looking at him right now. He’s dead.”
Listen,” Pollent said excitedly, “this is what I want you to write next to the body.”
Pollent paused, then spoke with clarity so his words could not be misheard. “Nemo is alive.”
Another pause.
“And then get over to Davis Gulch as quick as you can,” Pollent yelled.
——————————
Pollent’s boat slowly pulled into the grotto where Sarah and her friends had been kidnapped the evening before. The Navajo man that had climbed the crack the day before again stepped onto the edge of the boat. He grasped the canyon wall, then climbed the crack. He had two ropes around his shoulder.
When he reached the top, he tied one of the ropes to a large boulder and threw it down to the boat below. The other two Navajo men began to climb the rope. Before the final man climbed, he double-checked the knots that were holding Sarah, Trent, and Monique in place.
When all three Navajo men had reached the top, they began to hike up the canyon.
——————————
At the makeshift sacrificial altar inside Davis Gulch, the three Navajo men were gathered around their victim. The blades of the SAR helicopter were heard above. One of the Navajo men retrieved a large knife from his pocket.
——————————
Later on, inside the SAR helicopter, Dyss climbed the final rungs of the ladder and entered the helicopter door. To his surprise, the three Navajo men were seated inside the helicopter, and handcuffed to a rail.
“We got ‘em,” Haas said. “There’s no escaping a chopper.
Dyss nodded. “That’s good news.”
Continue reading the next chapter >>>
<<< Go back to the previous chapter
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