The Dead Spend No Gold Read online

  I should be happy the dangerous creatures will be gone, he thought. Certainly Patrick would have been.

  Instead, he felt a strange sadness, despite or because of what the Ts’emekwes had done to him and his family; he wasn’t sure which. The Skoocooms were creatures from the far past, from the time of myths and legends, that had somehow survived until today, but not for much longer. Not unless they learned how to hide themselves so that no one could ever find them or prove they existed.

  Virginia brought out Litonya’s map, and Frank looked over her shoulder as she examined it. The path split here, one fork going up the ever-smaller creek to the hidden valley, the other following the North Fork south along the hillside.

  They turned away from the hidden canyon and rode downward along the edge of the creek. The mining camp was just out of sight, but far enough away that Frank had time to wonder how he was going to persuade the Jordan brothers to give him their gunpowder. From what he’d heard, gunpowder was worth nearly as much per ounce as gold these days, it was in such short supply.

  But the Jordan brothers were nowhere to be seen at the mining camp. Frank wondered why he was surprised. Despite all the death over the past weeks, he’d longed to think of the jovial boys pulling gold out of the river. If they had been part of the search party, their levelheaded cheerfulness might have even kept the others from getting out of control.

  The camp was undisturbed. The Jordan boys had simply disappeared.

  The tarp over the gunpowder had been untouched for several days, and half the barrels were uncovered and useless. Only two containers seemed dry enough to ignite.

  They loaded one barrel on each side of Frank’s horse. He started leading the way back up the trail on foot. Virginia followed, still riding her mount, her head bowed in thought.

  His heart in his throat, Frank trudged up the trail, following the small creek upward.

  CHAPTER 22

  James’s Journal, Day 12

  I awoke and was surprised to find that not only was I alive, but that the front chamber of Grendel’s cave was empty. Grendel was in the dark corridors below, I suspected, licking his wounds. Grendel’s Mother must have ordered him to stay away from me. She must think I am useful. But for how long?

  Hrothgar’s interest in me and his need for a playmate has kept me alive until now, but he grows bigger every day. He is already taller than I am. His large red eyes are no longer all innocence. The craftiness of his brother appears in his face now and again. Sometimes I find him staring at me, and I’m frightened by his coldness. It’s as if the young albino is asking himself why he ever liked having a pathetic human around in the first place.

  I’ve tried to engage his curiosity, to teach him new words, but he no longer seems interested in human language. He hasn’t said “friend” in days.

  Soon I will simply be in the way.

  I dream about escaping, but I wouldn’t get far out of the hidden valley before they caught me, much less down the mountain trails. Even Hrothgar could easily catch me.

  Still, if they are truly losing interest in me, perhaps they won’t notice me long enough for me to make my escape, or perhaps they won’t care. Perhaps they will let me live simply because they have become familiar with me. Perhaps they are grateful to me for helping them. So I have been telling myself.

  Until this morning.

  A ray of light penetrated the cave, shooting across the surface, flashing red behind my closed eyes. I awoke when Grendel’s Mother came through the entrance. Pine needles flew through the air, the last of the pollen shimmered in the sudden light, and I saw in the brief illumination that her fur was scorched and singed, showing the raw, red skin beneath. I couldn’t make sense of it at first. She was dripping water, as if she had plunged herself into the spring outside. She must have been in great pain, but she didn’t make a sound, though her footsteps were awkward and labored, instead of having the grace I remembered.

  She passed me without looking my way, and I was careful not to catch her attention.

  Moments later, I heard the howls of a creature in pain, but it was Grendel and Hrothgar I heard, not the Mother. They were alarmed, angry, and frightened. To my astonishment, I understood what their utterances meant now. They were asking her what had happened.

  I could hesitate no longer.

  Grendel’s Mother had left the miner’s pack at my side. There, at the bottom, was a small container of gunpowder, as well as flint and steel and fuses, enough to cause a small explosion if the damp hadn’t ruined them. The cave narrowed as it plunged downward, and I knew, from previous explorations, that this tapered opening must be a tight fit for the giant creatures.

  I snuck to the opening and set the gunpowder down. There, I hesitated. Obviously, there had been a cave-in. The ceiling of the cave still looked unstable. It would take but a few moments to put some explosives there and seal the exit. I could simply light the fuse and run.

  Grendel, his Mother, and Hrothgar would all die. I was certain of it. This was the only exit from the cavern. There had been drafts at one time, but after the cave-in, days ago, the air had become close and still, plunging me deeper into misery. Now I recognized it as an opportunity.

  Grendel and his family were scared. Something or someone had maimed Grendel and burned the Mother of Hell, as I thought of her. When Kovac had wounded Hrothgar, he had set into motion events that had escalated.

  I could do it. I could close these monsters in, shut them away forever.

  My heart pounded in my ears as I considered how simple it would be to be free of the beasts. Why did I hesitate?

  I returned to my nesting place, wondering with every step what the hell I was doing. Even that much movement exhausted me. I was taking too long. One of them could emerge from below at any moment. I needed to escape. I had no choice. There was no doubt in my mind that Grendel’s Mother would no longer stop him from killing me. Hrothgar might be reluctant to see me die, but he wouldn’t face the wrath of his brother to defend me.

  Yet…I put the pack of explosives down and started toward the entrance.

  I won’t kill these creatures. They are simply responding to the threats from the world around them. In a way, Grendel was the manifestation of Nature fighting back. I have little sympathy for the miners who tore up the mountainside in their greedy search for gold.

  But Nature isn’t going to win this time. Mankind destroys everything he touches, killing the wildlife and forests, digging up the earth and soiling the waters. The Indians, who live in harmony with both prey and predators, whom these beasts had left alone, are as much victims of the coming of civilization as all the other creatures.

  Who are the real savages?

  Patrick and Oliver wouldn’t think of it this way, I know. They would demand revenge. Perhaps Frank might have second thoughts, but even he would do what was necessary. Being the youngest son, I have always watched others take action and observed the results.

  I haven’t always liked what I’ve seen.

  I’m as good as dead anyway, I thought. My family has probably all given up on me. So what difference does it make? I’m a dead man.

  I decided I would escape rather than wait here to be slaughtered.

  At the last minute, I dumped the contents of the pack onto the floor and scooped up as many gold nuggets as I could carry. Strangely, I felt guilty at doing so, as if I was succumbing to the same greed that caused all this misery in the first place. But if I escaped, I would live again in the world of men. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to be wealthy enough to escape their expectations, especially those of my father and brothers. I grabbed this journal too, shoving it into the pack with the nuggets and the empty canteen.

  As I left the cave, blinking and squinting into the morning brightness, I decided to go back East. Maybe there was enough gold to buy me the education that Frank had accepted so reluctantly.

  I would go my own way, never to return.

  * * *

  It occurred to
Frank, as they drew closer to the cave, that they were going to have trouble making their plan work. For one thing, they hadn’t any fuses. Whatever material they used—cloth, wood, or rope—would either burn too fast or too slow. Their only plan was flawed.

  Virginia looked grim. Once again, she had that far-off look in her eyes, as if she was seeing the future and it didn’t include Frank.

  All these thoughts ran through his head as he gazed at her, studying her features, trying to absorb her face perfectly into his memory. So it was that he was gazing at her when she suddenly straightened up and pointed uphill. He saw a figure stumbling down the slope toward them. Frank immediately recognized the form, the movement, the combination of grace and awkwardness that his baby brother James had always had.

  “James,” he breathed, “It’s my brother, James!”

  James veered toward them, falling down once in what looked like a painful tumble. Frank heard Virginia dismount, and then she was standing next to him. But for once, she did not have his attention.

  “James!” he shouted with joy, but her hand covered his mouth before he could further alert their enemy. James paused, then headed for them.

  Frank nodded to Virginia. “I’m OK,” he whispered. He wanted to whoop and holler, but restrained himself as he remembered where they were. But he couldn’t resist the huge grin that came over his face and the flood of relief that washed through his body.

  Smiling, Virginia took the reins of the horse carrying the gunpowder from his hands. “Go,” she said. “He needs help.”

  Frank scrambled up the slope and met his brother halfway, just as James was teetering on the verge of another fall. Frank caught him and held him up. It was like holding up an empty suit of clothes. James was pale and painfully thin, his face filthy and splotchy. He smelled of the Skoocoom, and Frank realized that, impossible as it seemed, his brother must have been with the beasts the whole time.

  “Where’s Oliver?” Frank asked. “Is he with you?”

  James gave him a miserable look and then shook his head slightly.

  Frank put his brother’s scrawny arm over his shoulder and helped him down the hill, almost carrying him. Now that he’d been saved, James appeared to lose what little strength he had.

  Virginia was waiting for them with a canteen and some biscuits, and they sat James down on a flat rock beside the trail. At first, James waved away the food. “We have to get away. Grendel will come after us.”

  “Grendel?” Frank echoed. Then, “Beowulf…of course. I know the reference.” While at school, he’d written a paper on Beowulf. Grendel was an appropriate name for the Ts’emekwes.

  “That’s what Tucker called him,” James explained.

  “Tucker?” Frank asked.

  “The man who wrote the journal I found…never mind. He’s dead.” James gobbled down a biscuit and took a long drink of water. “We need to get out of here! Grendel and his Mother will be coming after me. And probably Hrothgar, too.”

  Hrothgar? But Frank didn’t voice the question. Later, when they were safe, they would speak of Oliver and Patrick and tell their stories. For now, it was enough that James had survived.

  “How is it you’re alive?” Virginia asked. She was studying James as if he posed a dilemma. The Skoocooms showed no mercy, yet here was a man who had lived among them for days, if not weeks.

  “Later,” James said. He staggered to his feet. “They’re angry, wounded, and in pain. They won’t just capture me…us…this time.” He tried to rise, but Frank pushed him back down. His younger brother looked alarmed. “We don’t have much time,” James insisted.

  Frank turned to Virginia, eyebrows raised. He was overjoyed at finding his brother, and this spark of hope forced him to reassess their plans. Maybe James was right. Maybe they should escape while they could, let the others deal with Grendel and his family. Let those who invaded the creature’s territory deal with the consequences.

  “We aren’t ready,” Frank said to Virginia. “We need fuses, and we need to find others to help us.”

  “No,” Virginia said. “Today. Now.”

  “But James needs help!” Even as he said it, Frank realized that he wasn’t pleading for his sake, or even for his young brother’s sake. It was Virginia who would have to face the Ts’emekwes, no matter how much he might want to help her.

  Virginia hesitated. “Take him to safety. I’ll go alone.

  Frank shook his head. “You know I’m not going to let you do that.”

  “Let?” Virginia’s mouth was a thin line, and her jaw was set.

  “Go on alone?” James exclaimed. “Haven’t you heard me?”

  But Frank and Virginia ignored him. They were staring at each other, communicating on a level James couldn’t recognize or understand.

  “You’ve found me,” James was almost yelling now. “We need to get away from here.”

  “He’s right, Virginia.” Frank tried one last time. “James is safe. That’s what we came for.”

  “Take him with you,” Virginia said bluntly.

  Frank lowered his head, defeated. Virginia was going on without him, he could see that now. It had always been her plan.

  “Escape was never my goal,” Virginia said to James. “I have come to end these creatures.”

  James’s mouth dropped open. “That’s not possible. You can’t imagine how strong and dangerous these monsters are!”

  “We know all too well,” Frank said. “We were part of a search party looking for you and Oliver. The…Grendel…killed most of us.” Frank stopped there, wondering if he should continue, then decided his brother had the right to know. “He killed Patrick.”

  James hung his head and put his hands to his face. He looked ready to weep. “I knew it! I should have done it. I was going to blow up the back of the cave, but…I took pity on them. If I had known…” He stopped and looked up at them, desperation written all over his face. “You have no chance against them.”

  “Yes, we do,” Frank said. “Virginia can do it. She will do it.” His pride was unmistakable as he stared at her. She could not hide a smile in return.

  “Who?” James asked. His eyes focused on Virginia, who was a full head shorter than either of the brothers. “Her?” His voice rose in disbelief.

  “She’s tougher than she looks,” Frank said. “Come on, we can at least get you down below the tree line.” He looked up at the sun, which was still several hours from dropping below the horizon. “We have time.”

  He started to lift James’s pack and nearly fell over. He barely got it off the ground. “What the hell have you got in there?” he exclaimed. He opened it. There was a torn and tattered journal on top, and below it were gleaming nuggets of gold.

  “Grendel’s cave is the mother lode,” James said. “I suspect that all the gold the miners are finding below washed down from that cave. The walls are near solid yellow metal.”

  Virginia examined the bullion. “If that is true, it will draw more miners, and still more. The Skoocoom will keep killing them, unless he is stopped,” she said. “Or they are stopped,” she corrected herself, as if suddenly remembering that there was more than one of them.

  James’ mouth gaped open, as if he couldn’t believe what she was saying. He looked around as if wondering where they were hiding the others. His gaze landed on the barrels of gunpowder. “You’re going to blow up the cave?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Virginia said.

  “I had the same idea. There are fuses and matches on the floor near the front of the cave. At the back, there is a narrow gap right where the cavern deepens. You won’t need anywhere near this much gunpowder to close it.” The food and water had brought some color back to James’s face. “I should have done it myself,” he added. “But I…I felt sorry for them.”

  Virginia gave James a strange look. “A moment ago, you were scared to death of them,” she said.

  “I am…I was…I can’t explain. They aren’t what you think. Dangerous, yes. But…they have sou
ls.”

  Virginia squinted up the slope. “Frank, take your brother to safety and stay there.”

  “No, I won’t le…”

  “I can’t worry about you!” she interrupted, her voice rising. Her eyes bored into him as she drew in several deep breaths before continuing in a more rational tone. “Besides, your brother needs help.”

  Frank finally nodded his assent. “We will wait for you down the trail.”

  “No,” she said. “If I don’t succeed, you need to be farther away.”

  “Very well,” he said, with no intention of obeying her. When the fight came, he would be nearby to help. Virginia would go in alone, but if she didn’t return…

  She took the reins of the packhorse and turned to go.

  “Miss?” James called. “They aren’t evil. They are only protecting themselves.”

  She looked at him puzzled, and he looked away. “I just thought you should know,” he muttered.

  CHAPTER 23

  Virginia led the packhorse up the trail, following James’s tracks. She didn’t look back.

  She’d always intended to leave Frank below the canyon, but she hadn’t been sure how she would accomplish that. The appearance of Frank’s brother had been a godsend in more ways than one. It gave her a reason to leave Frank behind, one he would accept, and James’s description of the cave and the leftover fuses gave her real hope that her plan might succeed.

  As Virginia approached the hidden canyon, she began to feel as though she’d been there before. James’s description had been simple and accurate, but not detailed. The green grass, so startling this high up the mountains, the blue spring ringed by the dark evergreen of the ponderosas; it all seemed completely familiar, as if she’d dreamed more than once of such a place, even though she had no memory of such dreams.

  The walls of the canyon rose impossibly high on three sides, hiding a small opening at one end, guarding a paradise worth defending.