Shallan
The sun was dropping below the western mountains, darkening the clearing. A grazing doe raised her head sharply at the rustling sound emanating from the nearby tree line, testing the air for danger and tensing for action. The sound of a human voice from the same direction increased the animal's fear, causing her to bolt in the opposite direction and disappear into the nearby brush.
"How much longer are you going to give me the silent treatment, Jim? I've apologized at least 50 times so far, but I'll do it one more time. I'm sorry I wandered off this morning. I knew the area and wanted to go to the cave and see if it was the same one I'd explored a few years ago. I remembered it had these totally cool pictographs. What's so wrong about that?"
The rustling stopped and another voice was heard. The terse tone clearly indicated the speaker was upset. "What's so wrong is that you wandered off without letting me know you were going to take a side trip. What's so wrong is that the cave was occupied and you didn't even take the most minimal precaution when you tried to approach it. What's so wrong is the fact that we've lost almost a whole day making sure the angry bear living in the cave didn't follow us as we traveled back to the trail. Didn't you learn anything about self-preservation when you were living here, Sandburg? You do remember that we didn't bring enough food or water to extend our stay any longer than we'd planned."
The second speaker started moving again and stepped out from the trees into the clearing. He froze at the sight that met his eyes.
"Food isn't a big issue, Jim. Both you and I've gone without a couple of meals before and we didn't keel over from hunger. As for water, we had a couple of good wells in Bounty, so there'll be plenty when we get there." The speaker stepped out from the trees and halted in shock beside his companion, his jaw dropping at the scene that met his eyes.
"Don't count on it, Chief," Jim Ellison murmured, scanning the scene before them. Jumbled pieces of wood lay in areas where three buildings once stood. Most showed evidence of a fire. Zeroing his eyesight on a large plank lying near what had probably been a fairly large building, Jim read the visible letters: BOUN. The rest of the word was missing, but it was obvious the two had arrived at their destination. It was the community of Bounty, Blair's former home, or what was left of it.
Blair Sandburg staggered forward into the center of the three piles of rubble then slowly spun around until he faced his friend. His eyes were wide and full of pain. "They... why?"
"It's their M.O. We figure they plan their raid to start at dawn when the community is just waking. The young are not yet awake and the adults are still pretty sleepy. Then they separate the people into two groups; those they can use and take with them, the young and healthy, and those they don't need. The latter they kill quickly." Jim paused when he heard Blair give a quiet choked gasp. The smaller man had turned away and walked over to the plank and was staring down at the words. "Once they have everything they want, they release any animals and destroy the buildings. It's strange, though..."
Ellison concentrated and took a careful sniff at the air. There was something missing from the area, but he just couldn't seem to pin down what.
"We didn't have much, but we were doing okay," Sandburg said, the calm words belying the horror that filled him. "A few of the young couples had infants, who'd been born last fall. Earlier in the spring, we'd lost Mrs. Jenkins to pneumonia and Mr. Palmer died in his sleep. His wife had died the winter before and he kept telling us he didn't want to continue without her."
Jim moved to stand beside the younger man and placed what he hoped was a comforting hand on Blair's shoulder. "How many lived here?"
"About fifty at the last count, but some had started to spread out and build their homes farther away. A few of the nomads were about ready to leave and head to the lower valley for the winter. They didn't like the idea of possibly being snowed in. They would have been gone in a week."
Ellison glanced around the area. "Where are the rest of the buildings located? You all didn't live in these three, did you?" He already knew the answer, but felt the need to get Sandburg's mind back to the present.
"Huh? Oh, no. This was the central meeting hall. I taught some of the younger kids here in the evening. That one over there was sort of like a lumber building. Had some pretty good carpenters who'd set up shop. The smallest one belonged to the Cohen's, but there were six of them living there. This had all been their land before The Chaos hit. That's why Matt Cohen was the ad hoc leader of Bounty. His wife was the most fantastic cook; her kitchen was like magic. She taught me how to make some of the most fantastic vegetable dishes." Blair smiled sadly at the memory then shook his head and looked off to his right. "Since the animals were kept off in that direction, in the Cohen's barn after it was expanded, the dorms and houses were built upwind, to the north."
"Uh, that's the west, Chief. I'm beginning to get an understanding of your sense of direction, or lack of one." Jim peered up at the darkening sky. "We're not going to have the light much longer, and while it won't be much of a problem for me, I don't think you want to be trying to put up your tent in the dark. Let's find a good spot near the closest useable well and get settled for the night."
Blair rolled his eyes at the obvious verbal jab and adjusted the backpack on his shoulders. "Got to work on your sense of humor, man. Everyone has at least a small one." Shifting to the side and ducking his head, he barely missed the hand swung at his head. Giving his friend a warm smile, Blair pointed toward a trail. "The Cohen's well had a solar pump on it that was pretty far from their septic tank feeder lines. From what I remember, these other buildings were set up to connect to the lines to the main house. For the rest of the community, there were a couple of large wells centrally located and they also had solar pumps to feed into the buildings. But we really had to be careful of how much water we used. A couple of large septic tanks had been placed centrally for many of the first homes, but others just dug outhouses for their places and started using open water tanks to catch rainfall."
"How well did they filter them?"
"Pretty good. We knew better than to trust drinking any of it without filtering. Water parasites didn't disappear with the change in the world. Naomi and I would boil our drinking water and stock up as many jugs as possible in case the wells ever got low. It's this way, Jim." Blair pointed and, after again hefting his backpack more comfortably across his back, started into that direction.
Looking around one more time, Jim saw a jumbled pile of cement and dirt where it was obvious that a fairly large well had been located. It looked like the attackers had used explosives to destroy it. Hopefully, they didn't do the same to all of the others. Shaking his head sadly at the destruction, Jim followed after his companion.
"What are you doing over there, Chief?"
Blair looked up from the book on his lap, taking a pause from the frantic writing he'd been doing. He blinked almost owlishly and adjusted the gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. "Just taking notes. The way you were able to smell that bear this afternoon, when we were at least a half a mile away from it, was fantastic. And finding the other wells tonight with so little light... I've got to get the range of your abilities at this point recorded so that we can compare your progress as you continue to get more comfortable with what you can do."
Ellison stared hard at the younger man for several long seconds until the other almost squirmed then finally asked, "Do you write down everything I do?"
"Well, yeah, man. How else am I going to be able to document what you can do if I don't write it down? I have a pretty good memory, but good empirical data has to be recorded properly." Blair gave the older man what he thought was a comforting smile, but allowed it to fade when it wasn't returned.
"Document me. Like some lab experiment or something? Is that why you keep pushing me to do tests all the time?" Jim's voice had risen and had a hard edge.
Blair sat up straight and shook his head emphatically. He held up his free hand, palm outward. "Hey, no. You are not a lab experiment. The tests are only to help you understand what you can and can't do with your senses and for me to see how you're going to react to certain stimuli so that I can prevent you from zoning or getting thrown off balance by something you weren't expecting. And I eventually want to write a paper. Maybe make it my dissertation, if I can find a college that'd accept the subject."
Dropping his gaze down and picking up a stout stick he'd pulled out from the firewood pile, Ellison stoked at the fire. "Yeah, well, you sure coulda fooled me," he grumbled.
Closing his journal after placing a piece of braided leather into the crevice to mark his place, Sandburg set it to the side and gave his friend his complete attention. "Is this why you've been so surly? I can understand why you could have been after this morning, but I thought you were over that. What's going on, Jim? Do you want me to back off?"
Ellison continued to poke at the fire then grabbed more wood and carefully added the pieces to the hungry flames. The silence in the little clearing deepened until Jim finally looked up. Blair sat with his hands lying quietly in his lap, leaning forward with his whole attention on his friend. Concern was written all over his face.
He opened his mouth to say something sarcastic, but the words didn't seem to want to come out. Jim snapped his jaws back together and clenched his teeth in frustration. The kid tended to act like he was walking on eggshells any time they talked about his sentinel abilities, and now was no different. Yeah, there was concern in his expression, but Blair's eyes also held a shadow of fear, as if he was going to be told at any time that his job was done and it was time for him to leave.
Finally, Ellison sighed and said, "It's not you, Chief. At least, I'm pretty sure it's not. It's... ever since we started this trip I've been getting a... a feeling."
"What type of feeling? Anger? Is it because I wanted to come here now, so late in the year, and not wait until spring? Or have you been picking up on my fear and apprehension?" Blair leaned back until he could pull his legs up and fold his arms around his knees. He knew Jim seemed to know when he was afraid or upset and had been toying with the idea that maybe the connection developing between them was becoming empathic, something he was worried about.
"That's just it, Sandburg. I've not been able to pick up anything from you since we started to get near here. It's like my head is being muffled by cotton even though my senses are working." His anger rising, Jim surged to his feet and started pacing around the area. "This morning I should have been able to pick up on your curiosity and excitement when you took off. But I didn't. In fact, it wasn't until I'd finished cleaning the camp that I noticed you were gone. Then I had to use my old Army tracking skills to find you. Hell, I'd been able to zero in on your location even before we met."
"It's bothering you that you can't... 'feel' me?"
"No! Yes... ah, hell! I didn't even know I was able to do it until it faded out. Why, damn it!?"
Blair dropped his chin down onto his knees and stared into the fire, his expression intense as his mind tried to comprehend what was happening. "Maybe it's a defense mechanism to being out here in the forest, with all the different hazards, and your body had to make a choice. Because we're no longer in the city, where you really don't need to have your senses up and running constantly, the sentinel in you knows of the dangers that are possible and needs to focus to protect both of us. However, this is the first time you've had to be this way since you've come fully online and your mind is in conflict with your instincts. I know you don't do very well when decisions are made for you, man. Control is a major requirement for both Jim Ellison the cop and Jim Ellison the Sentinel. Cool, we can work with that. How about I promise that I won't take off or just disappear without letting you know where I'm going?" Blair gave his friend a big smile. "Think that'll help with the feeling you're having?"
"I don't think it's only that. It has to do with this place. There's something I'm missing, but there's also something here and it is really bothering me that I can't figure out either of them." Calming slightly, Jim strode over to his tent and pulled on the zipper to open the flap. "It's getting late, Chief. Let's hit the sack. Maybe I just need a good night's sleep to figure it out." Without waiting for a reply, Jim crouched down, crawled into his tent then closed and zipped the opening to prevent any further conversation.
Blair stared at where his companion had disappeared for several minutes, his mind whirling. Finally, he grabbed his journal and opened it back up. "Okay. Goodnight, Jim. I'm just going to finish what I was writing then I'll put out the fire. Okay?" Silence was the only reply he received.
Shaking his head in confusion, Blair felt around on the ground until he found his pen. He paused, staring at the closed tent. Why do I feel like some type of fifth wheel with you, Jim? You're convinced we've got this connection and are supposed to be together, but are we? Should we? I don't know, man. Sighing, Blair opened his journal and whispered, "I just don't know."
"Sandburg! Are you going to sleep all day?"
Groaning, Blair stuck his head out from his sleeping bag. It wasn't very light in his tent, so it couldn't be too late. "No," he mumbled, rolling onto his stomach and resting his head on an arm. His eyes began sliding shut. "Just until its actually morning." A crashing noise that sounded like it was right outside of his tent jerked him back awake. Pulling himself forward, he reached out and yanked on the opening of his tent until he could open the flap. What met his eyes was his fully dressed friend arranging pieces of the wood from the load he'd obviously just dropped near their fire pit.
"You know something, Jim? You usually wait until it is a little later in the morning before being so annoying. What is it, being out here surrounded by nature or just another quirk I'm finding out about you?"
"Hate to break it to you, Chief, but this is as light as it's going to get today. We've a heavy overcast of clouds and it's going to be raining by this afternoon. If we're going to be doing any searching, I'd rather do it now and be resting comfortably by a fire under shelter when the rain comes."
Craning his neck, Blair could finally see the tarp Jim had stretched between the trees encircling their tents. This had created the shade, making his tent seem darker. Nodding, Blair pulled the tent flap closed. He felt a tickle in his nose and was able to bury his head down into his sleeping bag to muffle the sound of three resounding sneezes. Knowing any appearance of an illness would bring out the Florence Nightingale in his companion, Blair sniffed as quietly as possible to clear his sinuses then crawled out of his bag and got dressed. By the time he climbed out of the tent, there wasn't any evidence of the cold he was catching. Jim had the fire going and was pulling out the cooking utensils.
"Give me a minute to take care of some business and I'll get breakfast. Okay?"
Ellison finished pouring the packet of coffee into a pot of water and placed it on some stones near the flames. When he looked up at his friend to answer, the sight meeting his eyes caused him to bust out laughing.
"What?" Sandburg asked, checking his clothes to make sure he didn't leave the zipper of his pants down. Finding no problem there, he ran his hands up his body and checked his other clothing.
"Sorry. I've just never seen someone with such a bad case of bed head before. Geez, Sandburg. Do you have to mess with that mop every morning?" Ellison wiped at the tears in his eyes.
Blair grimaced at his companion then rubbed his hand over his head. Without a mirror he couldn't see it, but he could feel that his hair was standing almost straight out from his head in wild abandon. "At least I have hair to mess with in the morning," Blair murmured. Reaching back into the tent, he pulled out his canteen and poured some water into his hand. After putting the canteen down by his feet, he rubbed his hands together to get them both wet then ran his fingers through his hair. The action tamed the wild locks moderately.
At Sandburg's comment, Ellison raised his hand and brushed it across his own hair, feeling the comfortable military style he always wore. He moved his hand to the front and felt along the hairline. Then he heard a soft chortle and looked up to see Sandburg smirking at him. Immediately Ellison dropped his hand, grimacing at being caught. "Smart ass."
"Genetics will tell, man," Blair replied then stomped off through the trees for one of the still standing outhouses they'd found the night before.
After breakfast, the two men decided to split up in order to search the area faster. Ellison volunteered to search through the rubble of the different buildings, knowing he'd be able to assess their stability better than his companion.
Sandburg was agreeable, not wanting to awaken any more memories from the community. He'd already suffered from a few nightmares the night before, though he'd struggled to prevent from waking his friend. Blair didn't know if he succeeded or not. Jim being Jim, he didn't mention it. Keeping his promise to make sure his friend would know his destination, Blair showed Jim the path that lead off to his meditation spot and, slinging his canteen over his shoulder, started down it.
Ellison watch his friend disappear through the trees then continued to follow him with his senses until they started to flicker on him. Pulling back sharply, he shook his head and rubbed an ear.
Why were his senses acting up? When he'd found Blair in the warehouse those many months ago, drugged and prepared for shipment out of the country like cargo, Jim felt his senses sharpen and click into place. Working with the kid since then, he'd started to get more control, and felt more comfortable using them. He was most comfortable when Blair was at his side, hand casually resting on his shoulder or back, coaxing him to stretch his ability or combine two of his senses together.
But now it was as if he was being muffled or his senses were fading out. What bothered him the most was his connection with Sandburg. Is what he guessed right? Is it only a natural thing my body is going through because were here? God, I hope so. Ellison knew he wasn't the most open person when it came to expressing his feelings. He didn't know how to talk to Sandburg, how to tell him that he needed the young man, but more important was how he enjoyed having him around. After we get through this, Jim told himself, I'll sit down and talk to him like he's been asking me.
Shouldering his own canteen, Ellison turned his attention to his task of searching through the remains of Bounty's buildings. There was something strange about the whole area and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.
Blair knew his special place, where he had felt most comfortable and could meditate the easiest, had been no more than a half-mile away from the settlement. As he walked toward it this time, it felt farther. Maybe it was the way the overcast sky made the path seem ominous, or the fact that he'd just seen a place where he'd spent several years of his life callously destroyed, but Blair still traveled cautiously along the path.
Late last night, after Jim disappeared into his tent, he had thoughts of possibly settling back down in Bounty again. It would be a bit rough, but he'd lived in primitive settings before. Jim was handling his senses pretty good, or at least he had been before this trip. The older man would listen and follow Blair's instructions as he taught him control. It was mainly when the issue of tests or experiments on the strength or distance of Jim's senses came up did he give Blair any problems. The detective was comfortable with what he could do and didn't seem to have any desire for improvement or searching out any other abilities.
Blair felt he'd probably done as much as he could do for Jim. So instead of becoming a burden, he started thinking about what he would do next. The job he was performing at the Cascade PD as a profiler was going well, but he wouldn't be able to keep it if he wanted Jim to be able to handle his senses on his own. It would be too easy for the older man to keep depending on him. Worse, it would give Blair more of a reason to stay. Naomi, his mother, had taught him that it was best to not set roots down too deeply in one place in order to keep his spirit free and not stifle his creativity. He'd been ready to go against that teaching when he'd agreed to work with Jim. That was until he started to have the strange dreams a couple of weeks ago.
They didn't come every night, at least not in the beginning, just often enough to bother him. They always started out the same way. He was following Jim, who was running after some criminal with his gun drawn. They followed their suspect into some large building; sometimes it was a warehouse and other times it was an old apartment house. When they slowed down, Jim would turn to him and say, "Stay with me, Chief. You're my backup." Then a figure would appear out of the shadows and, for some reason, Jim didn't notice him. The person would grab Blair and, after shooting Jim, drag him away. In the beginning, just before he'd wake up, his captor would morph into Alex Barnes and he'd hear her say, "I've been looking for someone like you for a long time." Lately, though, he could never see his captor's face. The dreams had to be reminding him that he was a danger to Jim and it would be best if he didn't get too attached to the job or the people. Unfortunately he already was getting attached, to the people and the lifestyle.
Finally, Blair stepped out of the woods and into a small clearing. It wasn't very large, especially if someone thought about setting up a house, but it had everything he wanted. Year round, the center of the clearing had sunshine. Not too far away was a small, fast moving stream that didn't freeze up in the winter. A group of stones piled to the left made a small cave-like shelter that always seemed to be out of the wind. When he found it stayed dry despite frequent rains, he started stocking it with a tarp for the floor, blankets and other things he could get by trading special lessons. He never did get the opportunity to see how it would survive a snowstorm.
Walking over to the den, he knelt down then froze. Someone had been here, but not in a way he'd expected. Instead of finding the place destroyed, all the blankets were neatly folded and off to the left side with his pillow sitting on top. The tarp he'd been using as his ground cover was also folded and lying at the bottom of the pile. At the back of the 'cave' was the jug he used for water, some Mason jars containing canned vegetables and packets of dried fruit he kept for those times when he hadn't wanted to go back to the settlement. On the other side sat his old backpack along with a couple of books he'd been reading and one of his journals. Someone had taken special care to clean the area up and stack all of his things neatly.
Sandburg sat back on his heels, a stunned expression on his face. If anything, he'd expected there to be evidence that an animal might have set up shop here. Pleased that his things were still here, he leaned forward and grabbed the backpack. Opening it, Blair collected the loose journal and the books and stuffed them into the bag. Jim might be interested in some of these things, since most of it concerned his previous studies of the possibility of modern day sentinels. Of course, knowing his friend, Jim would probably be more interested in the mystery of why everything was stored so neatly and not disturbed by any of the local wildlife.
He looked around the entrance and even behind him for tracks or other indications that the place was being checked out by an animal. Nothing. Was there something wrong with the place he never knew about? Or maybe an odor that he wasn't able to detect but kept away those with better olfactory capabilities? With no warning, as if to remind him about his impending illness, Blair sneezed several times. With a low groan, he leaned over to dig out a wad of tissue he'd stuffed into his back pocket after the sneezing fit in the morning. A strange coughing sound to his left halted his action, making him look up and peer in that direction.
Blair spun sharply around when something moving at the edge of the trees caught the corner of his eye. He thought he saw a shadow move between two trees. "Hey! Hello?" he called out. When no one answered, he stood up and started walking slowly toward the trees. "Jim? Is that you, man? If it is, its not funny trying to scare me like this."
The sharp snap of a branch and the rustling of leaves behind him had Blair whirling back around toward the path that led toward Bounty. "Jim?"
A low growl answered him. "Oh, God. Wild animal." Blair stepped steadily away from the path. He kept his eyes in that direction and his legs moving him slowly backwards, but his mind was racing. Didn't sound like a bear. What was it? Coyote? Wolf? Mountain cat? Is there another way back to Bounty? No, damn it! Not one that would allow me to outrun the animal. The stream. That's the only direction I have to go. I'll head there and maybe the water will be high enough. Shit! Quit thinking and start running, stupid!
Listening to his fear, Blair swung around and took off into the forest. The path to the stream, which was little more than an animal trail, wasn't very wide, but he was able to run easily. He'd found it when he first discovered the clearing. The stream wasn't all that far; he used to fill his water containers from it and use filtration pills he'd acquired from a trader. So when he found himself at the bank before he knew it, he was almost able to keep from falling in. Almost.
The edge of the stream wasn't very solid. It began to crumble under Blair's feet, throwing him off balance. Trying to catch himself, his right leg started sliding and he felt his knee pop, accompanied by a sharp pain. Inhaling sharply, Blair threw out an arm to catch himself as his leg gave out. He was able to grasp a small limb from a nearby sapling, but it gave way under his weight and he fell down the bank and into the stream. His head meeting a large rock kept him from rolling completely into the water, but it sent his mind into a black pit away from the pain.
Jim had gone through each of the ruins as carefully as possible, but he still ended up with cuts on his hands and a large scratch along his neck. There weren't too many areas to search, a testament to the size of the community. While he didn't find anything of value, which was no surprise, there were some leftover bits of the lives of the former residents. He found broken glassware, things made of metal, parts of toys, even some books that weren't completely destroyed.
After going through the last pile of rubble, and feeling the beginning droplets of the rain he'd predicted earlier, Jim stood in the middle clearing and once again searched with his senses. Then it finally hit him what was missing. Bodies, or at least any remains of the residents the attackers hadn't taken with them.
Blair had told him there'd been about 50 people living in Bounty before it had been attacked. After the raid on the warehouse where they'd found Blair and the organ harvesting operation, the subsequent investigation showed that there had been 27 people besides his friend taken in the raid. That left approximately 22 people who had probably been killed here. The raiders wouldn't have taken the time to bury their victims. They never did in the past, why would they do so this time? Even with the length of time since the attack, there should have been some remains left after scavenging animals had finished. He should have been able to pick up something.
Taking a deep, careful, concentrated breath, Ellison still wasn't able to smell anything but what he'd been picking up all along: charred wood, the lingering odors from the septic tank and outhouses, and the natural scents of the forest. After his time in the military and years on the police force, he knew how decaying or burnt bodies smelled. They were something he knew he'd never forget, and neither of the odors was here. That could only mean one of two things -- either there had been one or more of the residents left alive to take care of the remains or others had moved in afterwards and cleaned up the area... and there was always the possibility they were still around.
Jim glanced at his watch, seeing that it was already mid-afternoon. Blair should have been back to the tents by now, ready for lunch and wanting to get under shelter before the soft drizzle now falling became harder. In the short time they had been together, Jim had found that his friend did not enjoy getting wet unless it was due to stepping into a hot shower at the loft. That he wasn't back made Jim feel anxious. With the way his senses were acting, and not being able to get a clear feeling of his friend, Jim started up the trail he last saw Blair taking.
It was the freezing cold water swirling over his lower body that brought Blair back to consciousness. His head was throbbing painfully and he didn't want to open his eyes, but he knew he had to move. He could tell he was lying face down on damp ground so, with a groan, Blair brought his arms back to his body and slowly pushed up. A dull pain along his ribs caused him to catch his breath and collapse back down. Panting carefully for almost a minute, Blair gathered his strength and tried to move again. This time, however, he rolled himself over onto the side that didn't hurt, clasped an arm to the side that did to give it support, and levered himself up into a sitting position.
"Oh, not a good idea," Blair moaned as the change in position caused the pounding in his head to increase. With a shaky hand, he wiped his face carefully to brush off the dirt and debris he could feel clinging to his skin. Moving the hand into his hair, he found a sticky bump above his left ear -- evidence of where his head had met a very hard object. Finally forcing his eyelids open, he peered around the immediate area. He was sitting in the stream and his legs where cold and aching. Then his memory kicked in, reminding him of why he was there in the first place. He had been chased, he thought, by something that hadn't sounded friendly and had ungracefully fallen into the stream trying to escape it.
Slowly scooting backward out of the cold water, his breathing becoming harsher in an effort to keep from making too much noise, Blair scanned around the area for his supposed predator. Not seeing anything, he concentrated on quieting his gasping to enable him to hear. Again, nothing. Relaxing slightly, he turned his attention back to his body and the various pains vying for his attention.
Blair didn't think he'd broken any ribs, but they had to be bruised to ache the way they did. A sudden coughing fit gave him more evidence of the damage and had him clutching his chest and collapsing over onto his side. "Oh man, Jim. If there was ever a time for you to be zeroed in on me and how I am, now would be it," Blair moaned with his eyes closed. After several minutes passed with no evidence of his friend hearing his plea, Blair pushed himself back up and, using the scooting movement again, climbed out of the streambed and onto the bank so that he could take a better inventory of his injuries.
Bruised ribs, a small head wound with the possibility of a concussion and a damaged knee, evidenced by pain coming from the area and the tightness of his jeans around the swollen joint seemed to be the sum of his injuries. He was also shivering from the cold wetness of his clothes. "At least n-nothing s-seems to be broken. Now t-to get b-back to camp." Blair knew no one could hear him, but it made him feel better to speak out loud. Maybe the sound of his voice would scare or keep away whatever he'd heard earlier. Earlier? What time is it?
Pushing his sopping sleeve back, he peered down at his watch. The crystal was shattered and Blair could see that the hands on the watch face were broken. Apparently his head wasn't the only thing to hit something hard, which meant he had no idea how long he'd been unconscious. It couldn't have been too long, however. Otherwise Jim would have been hunting him down by now. Using a nearby tree, Blair pulled himself painfully into a standing position and, after finding out he could put weight on his leg, started limping back down the trail.
Ellison paused halfway up the trail when he spotted what looked like a door partially hidden by overgrown bushes. Focusing on the portal, he could see it was attached to a frame that seemed to be buried in the raised ground below it. He remembered seeing something similar when he was young and on a trip with his father and brother through the Midwest. It had to be some type of storage cellar, probably to hold food to support the settlement through the winter. There was a latch and lock on the door, but it didn't look like it had been forced, which meant the raiders hadn't found it during their attack. As he turned to continue on his way, Jim made a note to himself to remember to tell Blair about it. They could explore it and see if there was anything he might want to take back with them when they left tomorrow.
"Sandburg!" Ellison called out when he was three quarters of the way up the trail. He couldn't see the end of it yet, but he felt better after the shout. He also didn't want to startle his friend, knowing the young man was a little nervous and upset being back in the area. When his friend didn't answer his call, Jim extended his hearing even as he picked up his pace. When he finally heard Blair's voice rambling in a painful tone, he broke into a ground-eating trot that wouldn't tire him out.
"You know something, Jim? You keep claiming we have a bond, but I really have to question that idea if you haven't felt anything about me by now." Blair paused to catch his breath, leaning against a tree trunk at the edge of the clearing. He'd been talking as he limped along the trail, more to keep himself going rather than thinking it was possible for Jim to hear him. What had been a short, panicked run earlier now felt like he'd been walking for miles due to his injuries. He knew he'd never be able to make it all the way back to the tents, so Blair concentrated on at least getting back to the clearing and his little shelter.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed away from the tree and struggled forward. He could see the rocks, and the opening beckoned to his exhausted mind and hurting body. As he stepped off the trail and into the clearing, Blair felt the rain he'd been hearing strike the leaves as he walked. He turned his face upward and smiled at the cool feeling against his hot skin. Normally he'd hate the idea of getting any wetter than he already was, but the moisture felt good. He tried to keep moving forward with his head turned upward, but it turned out to be a bad idea. When he a few feet from the opening to his shelter, his right leg finally gave out and he crashed to the ground. He thought he heard Jim's voice calling to him, but the pain, exhaustion and growing fever in his body were too much for his mind to handle and Blair sank into unconsciousness.
Jim broke into a run when he was finally able to focus his hearing more clearly onto his friend. Blair's heart rate was too fast and his breathing sounded raspy and congested. Jim could also 'feel' something of the pains the younger man was experiencing throughout his body. Blair was injured. Why hadn't he felt this earlier?
When he broke into the clearing, Jim saw the crumpled body of his friend lying just outside the stone cavern. He stopped short when he also saw a large silver wolf circling around Blair, whining and nosing at the still body. Instinctively, Jim pulled out the gun he always carried tucked in the holster at the back of his pants and pointed it at the animal.
"Hey!" Jim shouted, hoping to scare the animal off. It didn't work. The wolf just glanced up at him briefly then went back to nosing Blair's body. Pointing his gun skyward, Jim fired off a shot thinking the noise would scare the animal. It didn't. In fact, the wolf trotted around to crouch down in front of Blair's body and growled at Jim.
Ellison brought his weapon back to bear onto the animal, but he didn't fire. The type of ammunition he had loaded in the weapon was high-powered in the event the two met up with anything dangerous. But if he fired at the wolf where he was lying, there was always the possibility that the bullet could go through the animal's body and hit Blair.
Jim stared into the animal's intelligent eyes. On a whim, he decided to try something he knew others, as well as he, would consider crazy. He decided to talk to the wolf. "I don't want to hurt you, fella, but my friend's hurt and I need to check him out."
The wolf stared at Jim for a few seconds more then sneezed, stood up and backed out of the way. When he felt the animal was far enough away, Jim stepped carefully up to Blair and knelt down. Keeping his weapon pointed at the wolf, Jim took his other hand and pressed his palm against Blair's neck then to his face. He could feel the heat pouring off the young man and his rapid pulse.
"Chief? Blair? Can you hear me, kid?" When he didn't get a reply, Ellison shifted around until he was beside his friend. He was still able to keep his eye and gun on the wolf, at least until the animal decided the man wasn't going to do the smaller one any harm and turned to trot into the woods. Once it was out of sight, Ellison relaxed and holstered his gun to have both hands free.
With quick efficiency, Ellison felt along Sandburg's body to check it out. He found the lump on his head and was relieved that there wasn't too much swelling, nor was it bleeding anymore. He also found the injured ribs by the amount of heat coming from them as well as the injured knee. What did worry him was the obvious fever the young man was carrying and the slight rasping from his lungs.
Carefully, Jim rolled Blair over. After brushing the wet strands of hair to the side, Jim gently patted his cheeks. He leaned over the prone man so that his body blocked the light rain falling. "Blair? Come on, kid. Wake up and let me see those baby blues."
With a low groan, Blair's eyes fluttered a few times before they rose weakly to gaze blearily at the face hanging over his own. "Jim?"
Ellison smiled. "Hey, Chief. You had me worried there. How are you feeling?"
"Head hurts." Sandburg started to raise his hand to his head, but it was gently grasped and returned to his side.
"You have a little bump and it bled a little, but it doesn't look that bad."
"Feels bad."
"Yeah, I bet it does. Come on, Chief. Stay awake and tell me about the rest of your body. Anything else hurt? Give me the list."
Blair was allowing his eyes to slide shut, but jerked them back open. "I... my ribs are sore and... ah, my knee. Did something. It popped." He took a deep breath, but the action started him coughing and he rolled onto his side to curl up. He could feel large hands helping him roll over and holding him until the coughing stopped. Then he decided it hurt too much to stay awake and slipped back into unconsciousness.
"Sandburg? Blair! Damn." Knowing he had to get him back to the campsite, Jim pulled Blair up to his feet and carefully draped his body across his shoulders. Adjusting the still body until it was comfortable, Jim strode as quickly as he dared back to the trail leading to the settlement and their tents.
The wolf stepped back out from the tree line and watched the men disappear. Then it trotted over to the smaller man's den, bit down on the soft thing that was mixed with the human's scent and another's whose scent was similar but not belonging to the big human, dragged it out and followed down the trail.
Ellison said a quick prayer of thanks to whatever made him get up early that morning and string the tarp over their camp area. When they were halfway back to the tents, the rain increased in strength and both men were soaked by the time they'd reached their destination. The cover also protected the campfire, which had died down to glowing embers during their absence.
Gently laying his friend down outside the tents, Jim swiveled around to the woodpile, grabbed several branches and shoved them into the embers. The action stirred up sparks, which licked hungrily at the dry wood. In a short time, a merry flame grew and spread heat in the area. Satisfied with the results of his actions, Jim turned his attention back to his friend.
Blair was moaning softly, his body racked in shivers from the cold, wet clothes covering him. Knowing hypothermia was a serious threat, Jim unzipped Blair's tent and crawled in to grab additional clothing he knew the younger man had brought. He also grabbed the sleeping bag and dragged it out. From his own tent, Jim pulled out a blanket and the First Aid kit.
First he stripped Blair down, tossing the wet, muddy clothes into a pile out of the way. Taking the blanket, Jim wrapped the smaller man up and gently rubbed his body to dry him. He was careful with the areas that were injured, but knew the action would also warm the body. Jim wasn't too sure how to handle the long, wet dripping strands of hair, but he knew he couldn't just rub it dry the same way he handled his own. The curly tresses would probably dry into something similar to a rat's nest and the kid would give him hell. In the end, he gently rubbed the locks until they were no longer dripping water.
Once he had Sandburg dry, Ellison struggled to dress him. The sleeping bag was down-filled and rated to keep a sleeper warm even if the temperature went down to zero. However, in order for it to be effective, the occupant could only wear a minimum amount of clothing, unheard of when it came to Blair. Jim had never seen anyone like his friend when it came to dressing for the weather. Even in the winter, the temperature in Cascade was rarely below freezing, but Blair seemed to put on layers of clothing like it was going to be sub-zero.
It was one thing to dress himself when he was cold and damp, but trying to pull socks and under shorts onto his friend's limp, unconscious body without causing any further damage was a chore. He had a harder time getting a tee shirt on the kid, but eventually he had Blair in dry clothing and tucked into his sleeping bag near the fire. He couldn't do too much with the First Aid kit, but Jim was able to clean the scalp wound and the small scrapes on Blair's face with sterile pads soaked in peroxide and get a couple of analgesic tablets forced down his throat. Then he zipped closed the sleeping bag and shifted it and Blair closer to the fire.
Finished with as much as he could do for his friend, Jim took care of himself, getting out of his now damp clothes and into warm dry ones. It was too late in the day to even think of finding someway to hike back out of the area, and definitely too wet. He knew his cell phone wouldn't work in this area; Bounty sat in a valley and any signal in or out was blocked. He would have to rely on the medical knowledge he'd received while in the Army and get Blair to a point where they could hike back out. It was either that or wait until they were late in reporting back in to their friends at the Cascade PD, and that time was over three days away.
Jim watched as Blair moaned softly and moved restlessly in his sleep. All he could do for the injured man was to keep him hydrated with liquids, try to get some nourishment into him and keep forcing the aspirins into him to keep the fever down.
"Never do things the easy way, do you, Chief? This was just supposed to be a simple trip to see what was left of this place and maybe find out what happened to your mother. But what happens? Somehow you end up getting hurt and almost a play toy for some wolf, though why the animal would even come within a hundred feet of humans is a mystery. You once told me they tended to shun humans or their habitats unless they were ill or couldn't hunt for themselves. But this one didn't seem to be sick or hurt. So why was it there?" Jim stared at his friend, wishing Blair would open his eyes and answer him. When he didn't, Jim decided to fix them both something to eat. "I don't know where you're at right now, but I'll be here when you decide to come back. Just don't take too long, buddy."
Sandburg's eyes opened and he became completely awake like a light switch being flipped on. Blinking several times, he took a deep breath and looked around. He was lying on the ground; it looked like the forest, but the sky wasn't overcast and it wasn't raining. The sky looks clear. Jim said it was going to rain this afternoon. Wait. My chest doesn't hurt! He took another deep breath and felt along the area of his ribs he remembered had been hurt in his fall. No pain, not even a bit of tenderness, and he wasn't coughing. Surprised, Blair sat up. He brought a hand up to the area on his head he remembered hitting a rock. Again, no pain. In fact, there wasn't any evidence that he'd ever been hurt.
"Jim?" Smiling, Blair began checking the leg he was sure he'd damaged. "I know you said you were an Army medic, but I didn't know you were a healer."
"He isn't. You are, young one."
Blair jerked in surprise and rolled over onto his hands and knees to see the speaker. His heart in his mouth, he was ready to surge to his feet and run. Before him, standing at the edge of the tree line, was a man in native garb. His loincloth stretched to his ankles and the design on it looked to be South American. His chest was bare of cloth, but not of other coverings. He had red paint covering his neck from just under chin, running down across his shoulders and each arm to the top of his biceps. The red was also on his face, encircling his eyes and going down the center of his face. It looked like he was wearing a mask. His hair was almost blue black in color, the strands on both sides of his face braided with what looked to be beads or stones. Eyes so dark that they almost looked black gazed at Blair with kindness and humor.
"Welcome, Shaman. Long have I waited for you to come to me."
Curiosity edged out fear and Blair pushed back until he was squatting on his feet then stood the rest of the way up. "Who are you? Do I know you?"
The man smiled. "Very good. You push away your fear. Who am I? You could call me Teacher, though you would probably be more comfortable with a true name."
"Yeah, I would."
"I have worn many names, but you may call me Incacha, a name I wore for the greatest amount of time."
"Nice to meet you... I think." The other only nodded at the greeting. "Uh, what's this all about?"
"I am here to prepare you to be Guide to your Sentinel." Incacha stepped further into the small clearing, his hands held out open at his side. "I know you have more questions. I can see them in your eyes."
Blair took a step back for each one the other took toward him. The man did look harmless, and something inside told him he was, but Blair remembered when they first arrived and Jim asking him if he'd learned anything about self-preservation during his time in Bounty. Better to be safe than sorry. He continued to move away from the man until the other finally stopped at one edge of the clearing, crossed his legs and sat down. Blair copied the move, only he was on the other side of the clearing.
"Ask, young one. Our time here is not long."
"Um, okay, Incacha. I'm guessing this place isn't anywhere near Bounty, and I don't think I was hurt bad enough to be dead, so where is here?"
"It is the place between. Your injuries have allowed you to step through the veil so that we could talk."
"Oh." Guess I shouldn't look forward to waking up. "Is Jim all right?"
Incacha smiled. The young one worried over the fate of his sentinel more than his own. "He is well, though he worries for you. Others watch over him until you return."
Blair released the breath he didn't know he was holding in relief. When he saw the other was watching him closely and smiling smugly, a little flame of anger flared in him. "What do you mean you're here to prepare me to be a guide? I've been doing a pretty good job of helping Jim get his senses under control. He doesn't zone out anymore and he's comfortable with what he has. Frankly, I don't think he really needs a 'guide' as much as he just needs a good partner to back him up properly with his police work. Since I have a real problem with the idea of carrying or even using a gun, I don't think I should be considered for that position."
As Blair spoke, the smile faded from Incacha's face and sorrow filled his eyes. "I did not realize you thought so little of yourself. Do you not feel your place is to be at his side? That together, you are the foundation of his abilities and he of yours?"
"I don't know what I feel anymore. Yeah, in the beginning everything clicked together like it was almost meant to be, but now I don't know. And if I am a -- a 'guide', it could put Jim in danger. He was almost killed preventing me from being taken by another sentinel, and I don't want that type of situation to come up again. It will, won't it?"
"The time has come for the Watchmen to return and they will need their Guides to survive. As with all things, there are good and evil ones. The good ones search for the ones who are meant to be at their sides. The evil ones--"
"Will go after whoever is close, and won't be stopped if the one they want already has a sentinel."
"You believe you must distance yourself from your sentinel to protect him." When Blair's face flushed slightly and he dropped his gaze to the stick he fiddled with, Incacha nodded in understanding. "Noble idea and one I should have expected from you since your mind was clouded after the last time we met. Therefore, you must remember what was hidden from you and see what could happen should you choose to step away from your destiny. Come with me."
Incacha powered effortlessly to his feet and strode across the clearing towards Blair, who scrambled upright and stumbled backwards to get out of his way. He didn't have to worry though, since the other stepped quickly past him and into the forest. "Last time we met?" Curious about what the native meant, Blair followed.
"You know, Chief, this is not how our arrangement is supposed to work." Ellison took the cloth he had soaking in the pan, rung out the excess water and replaced the now warm one lying on Sandburg's forehead. His friend's temperature had started rising and he was doing whatever was safe to try and bring it back down. There was some congestion in Sandburg's lungs and that made some remedies impossible to use. So Ellison was using the standard ones of aspirins every four hours and sweating the fever out of the body while keeping the head cool. It was working and, as far as he could tell, Sandburg's temperature hadn't risen any further.
"I'm the strong, silent type you're supposed to struggle with to get to talk to you and you're the insistent, gabby one I'm supposed to threaten to gag just to get some peace. I don't think I've talked this much since high school, but if it helps to give you something to latch onto..." Ellison's voice trailed off as he leaned back and ran a hand over his weary face. It had only been a couple of hours since he'd gotten Sandburg back to their camp and taken care of, but it seemed like more. He felt almost helpless.
Shaking himself back aware, Jim picked up his flashlight and checked Blair's pupils as he had done each hour. They were both equal and reactive, again giving Jim a small amount of relief. "You're doing okay here, Blair. Doesn't look like you have a concussion, so you don't have to worry about me trying to force you awake. I figure that tomorrow, after you decide to wake up, we might first go look at that storage cellar I saw in the woods. Might be some things there that used to belong to the others from here. We can take back them back to Cascade and maybe find their relatives. Then, I'll find you a good stout stick to use as a cane. Don't expect me to carry your lazy ass--"
Jim froze when he glanced towards the forest and saw the dark shape sitting amidst some brush, almost hidden, but the eyes glowed with a reflection from the fire. Focusing his eyesight, he saw it was a wolf and it looked similar to the one he'd chased away -- no, it had decided to leave Blair earlier. It looked like the animal had been there a while; it was lying comfortably just watching him.
When the wolf saw that the human had finally noticed him, he stood up and shook his body to rid his fur of the water clinging to it. Then he bit down on the soft bag he'd brought from the small human's den, picked it up and slowly walked into the light and toward the large human. The wolf kept his yellow gaze locked onto the big one's face as he stepped closer. He meant the two no harm, but he knew humans were unpredictable creatures prone to strike out for no reason. But the large human didn't act like it was frightened or going to get violent even if it was pulling the loud noisemaker from behind his back, so he continued forward.
Jim couldn't believe his eyes. The animal was approaching the fire and it wasn't acting like it was rabid or attacking. Just to be safe, he slowly snaked his hand behind his back, brought his weapon around and rested it on his thigh. The wolf watched the action, his eyes following the hand, but he continued forward until he stopped about six feet away from the fire and dropped what he was carrying. Then he stepped back until he was again at the edge of the woods, dropped down onto his haunches and rested his head on his front paws.
"What is this, Wolf? Someone domesticate you to the level that you play fetch?"
The wolf raised his head, flattened his ears and growled. The action made Ellison smile.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to insult you." The animal dropped his head back down. "Okay, I'll mark this down as another one of those strange things I really don't have an explanation for and don't know if I want one. Sandburg would love this, though." Ellison looked over at his friend for several seconds, wishing the young man would open his eyes, then brought his attention back to the wolf.
"Since you brought it to me, I guess I should take a look at it. Right?" Pushing himself to his feet in a slow, smooth movement, Jim walked carefully forward keeping his gun ready at his side. The wolf didn't flinch, just kept his yellow gaze locked on the tall human. Jim bent over slowly and clasped his hand around the pack, feeling the smoothness of the worn cowhide. As he lifted it up, the scent that rose from it was very familiar. Taking a couple of careful sniffs, he recognized the odor. It was Blair's, which meant the pack had to have belonged to him.
Taking his place back by his friend's side, Jim gave the wolf a long look before he set his gun down next to his leg and opened the pack. Inside were a couple of books, one called "The Sentinels of Paraguay". He snorted when the read the name of the author. Richard Burton? Wasn't he some actor back in the 60's or 70's? With a shrug, Jim set the book down and pulled out ringed notebooks. They were very similar to the one Blair constantly used for his writing. Flipping one open and rippling through the pages, Jim recognized the handwriting until he reached the final page of writing. It changed dramatically and parts of it were blurred as if water had been dripped on it. Reading the words, Jim's eyes widened slightly.
"Well, here's your answer, Chief. The $64,000 question is what are you going to do with it?" Closing the book, Ellison stowed it and the others back into the pack. Shifting over, he lifted the flap to Sandburg's tent to toss in the backpack. Lying just inside the entrance was another journal; it was the one Ellison had seen in his friend's hands last night. Without hesitation, he picked it up and brought it back to the fire. Opening the journal, Jim glanced up to check on the wolf then quickly dropped his hand back to his gun when he saw another shape lying next to the animal. It was large, black and feline and there was no way the animal could actually be there. Black jaguars were not indigenous to the forests of Washington and Jim hadn't heard of any escaping from a zoo or animal reserve. Then Jim realized that he couldn't sense the cat. His eyes could see it, but he couldn't smell the telltale feline musk odor or hear its heartbeat. The jaguar's yellow-green eyes locked onto his and, after several long seconds, Jim relaxed. Though he'd never really seen the animal before, Jim knew it was a part of him and his abilities.
Removing his hand from his weapon, Jim nodded once to his spirit animal then, after replacing the cloth on Blair's head with a fresh, cold one, he turned his attention back to the journal on his lap.
Blair ducked quickly, but he still wasn't able to avoid hitting his head on a limb that seemed to appear from nowhere. With a whispered 'ow', he glared at the offending branch as he rubbed his head. Bending down, he avoided connecting with it a second time and hurried to catch up with his escort. Incacha moved comfortably through the brush, stepping easily around the same branches that seemed to reach out and slap and grab at Blair.
"Hey! Excuse me. Do we have much farther to go? I don't think my body or my clothes can take much more abuse." He spoke the last almost to himself as he yanked at his shirt snagged on another branch.
Incacha stopped and turned back to watch Blair struggle toward him. "Just through here." He pointed in the direction he'd been traveling. "Is there something wrong?"
Blair was tempted to give a smart-ass answer, but the expression on the other's face told him that it wouldn't get him anywhere. "No, not really," he finally said when he caught up. "Back in the clearing, you said we didn't have much time. Isn't this wasting that time?"
"Your heart and soul want so much to believe what your eyes see, but your mind needs something solid and familiar. Where we are going will give you all you need to decide." Incacha turned and stepped through thick brush, disappearing from view.
Surprised at the answer he was given, that it sounded so straightforward, Blair charged after the other. He crashed through the brush and stumbled into a clearing holding a sight that froze him in place. "Oh... my... God," Blair whispered.
Incacha stood in the entrance of what could only be described as a temple. The stone building looked small, no larger than a modest, two-story house. The blocks framing the opening were covered with drawings of animals with the exception of the one centered at the top. In that one was carved one word, CHOICE.
Blair stared at the structure in awe and slowly walked forward. "It has pieces of so many different cultures, Mayan, Inca, Aztec... I -- I've studied all of them."
"This place is for all who are chosen to be sentinel and guide. Though their outer shell may be different, their inner souls are of one tribe. Each may come here when there is doubt in their mind and heart, as you are now. They also come here as a pair to complete their bond."
"Is English the common language? I mean, you're speaking the same way as me and that's an English word over the door."
Incacha smiled. "What you are hearing is your language, because it is what you know and understand. What I hear is the language of my people and the marking is the same. Come. Enter freely so that you may see and make your decision." Incacha turned sideways and held an arm out, inviting Blair to enter.
Blair took a deep breath and stepped forward until he was standing in the doorway, even with the other. He looked into the man's eyes, which he vaguely realized were at the same level as his, and remembered. "I know you. When I was 17, you're the Shaman who gave me my medallion." Blair dug into his shirt and pulled out the ceramic pendant he wore around his neck. "But you were an old man and they said you died."
"Yes."
"Yes? That's all you have to say? No, don't answer that. Any explanation will probably take a lot longer than we have time and I don't think I want to know."
"You are right," Incacha agreed as he turned to lead the way into the darkened temple. "And you already know."
Blair watched the man disappear into the darkness. "Now I understand how Jim feels when I go all cryptic on him." With a sigh, he walked into the temple.
Ellison began reading at the start of the journal, smiling at the enthusiastic words that seemed to leap off the pages. Sandburg's joy of finding, or actually of being found by, a sentinel and being able to help was very evident in the first few pages. He detailed going through the loft and checking everything from the bottled water kept in the refrigerator, to the soap used for laundry and finally the types of spices kept in the cabinets. No stone was left unturned to ensure the comfort of the sentinel.
"I need to say thank you more often, Chief. I just accepted how much more comfortable my life has become without thinking you had a hand in it."
Flipping past the next few pages, Ellison's smiled faded. Sandburg had written several terse paragraphs about some of the things that had happened to him at the precinct his first couple of weeks there and were continuing. A few of the pranks played on the 'new guy', which Sandburg was discounting as being a type of hazing expected to be accepted, smacked of harassment. It sounded like the incidents were not being instigated by anyone in the Major Crime division; Jim would have seen or heard about some of the things described. It was probably some of the guys in Vice or Homicide.
Ellison gazed at his friend. "I'm sorry, Buddy. I should have paid more attention to why you never take your jacket off at work no matter how warm it gets or have never brought anything personal for your desk." Blair tossed his head and moaned softly as if in protest to the apology. Jim shook his head and gently laid a hand against Blair's cheek, partly to check his fever and partly in the hope of providing some comfort. "You've been working with us long enough to not have this crap happening any more. It will end." Blair shifted his head into Jim's hand and stilled.
Incacha was standing behind of a raised pool of water when Blair finally caught up with him. It was smaller than a bathtub, though it was oval in shape. Behind the native were two more pools, larger and closer to the ground.
"Tell me of what you remember of the time you met with the shaman."
Blair searched his memory. "Uh, well, our guide had come down ill and was close to dying when we had been found by some tribesmen. They guided us to the -- your village and the chief invited us to stay until the guide was well and could lead us back to the city. Professor Stoddard agreed, offering to repay the hospitality with some of our supplies, but they were refused."
"We were a simple people and didn't need to learn of the things being offered from the outside. Our youth would have been tempted to travel to the cities and abandon their lives and destinies."
"I agree. I didn't think the Professor even thought about that, but he was also coming down sick. That night, I remember being taken away from the group and told that you wanted to see me."
"You were afraid." It was more of a statement than a question.
"Yeah, man. I mean, who wouldn't have been. The guide was ill and the professor was coming down with the same thing. I was the youngest of the group, this was my first expedition and pretty much dragged away from my group after being told the Shaman wanted to speak to me, personally. I thought I'd done something wrong, broken some taboo of the tribe."
Blair paused and eyed Incacha, waiting for some type of remark. When the other stayed silent, he took a deep breath and ran his hands back and through his hair, pushing it away from his face as he blew the air out. "Okay, then one of the warriors led me to this hut that was away from the village and I met you. It was you, wasn't it?"
"At that time, yes. Continue."
"I don't remember too much more. We talked, I guess, and you gave me this pendant and told me to continue on the path I'd chosen because I had a destiny. You also said something about giving up my life for another. Then... I left and rejoined my group."
Incacha nodded. "You remembered what you were allowed to remember."
"Allowed? What do you mean? That's what happened, wasn't it? "
"Partially. Look into the pool and remember the rest."
Sandburg stared at the man for a minute before doing as he was told. At first, all he saw was his own reflection. As he concentrated on looking past his image, the water rippled and a scene he remembered from years ago swam into focus.
Blair stood outside of a thatched hut located so far from the village that he couldn't even see the campfire he'd left. The native who'd led him here pointed at the entrance and started backing away. When Blair turned and took a step toward him, the man gestured for him to stop, said something he couldn't understand and again pointed at the cloth covering the entryway.
Watching the native again back away, Blair shrugged his shoulders and hesitantly reached forward to knock on the pole framing the 'door'. "Hello?"
A male voice called out from inside the building, speaking a word that Blair understood meant welcome. Taking that as an invitation to enter, he did just that, pushing aside the blanket and stepping inside. The interior was lit by a single lamp sitting to the side of the room, providing enough light for Blair to see an elderly man sitting on a grass mat near the back wall. To his side was a youth about the same age as Blair, around 17 years old.
"Hi," Blair said hesitantly, flashing what he hoped was his friendliest smile. "You sent someone to get me? Is something wrong?"
The old man held a hand out and mimed for Blair to sit down. The youth spoke using what was a rough form of Spanish. "Sit, please. No wrong done."
Blair relaxed and, crossing his feet, dropped down to sit in a lotus position. Not sure of who he should talk to, his eyes flickered between the two. "Cool! I was worried that we trespassed in some sacred area of yours or violated one of your customs."
Even though the young man interpreted the words, as the shaman spoke his eyes captured Sandburg's attention and kept it focused. "You are too young for what now awakens in you. Your soul brother is not ready to join you."
"Soul brother? I don't understand. What are you talking about?"
"You are gifted, young brother, with powers that some want for their own purpose. They have felt you walking through the world and even now are searching for you. The path you follow is dangerous; your youth makes you easy prey. Great danger will come to you if this continues."
"O-kay," Blair said with suspicion. He looked at the old man carefully, wondering if senility was a possibility or maybe he had something strong to drink earlier. The other continued to stare at him intensely, making Blair decide that the safest thing to do was agree with him and get away as soon as possible. "What do you think I should do to... change my path?"
"That would be wrong. You have a destiny, young one. What you learn now from your many teachers prepares you for it until the day comes when you must make the choice to change your life to be with another."
"Oh, you mean find someone to settle down, marry and have kids rather than become an anthropologist and explore the world like Dr. Stoddard. I don't know, man. I've wanted to do this for as long as I can remember. I can't see myself settling down in one spot for any length of time, especially with the way I've been raised. It would take one hell of a person to take me away from all this."
"He will be."
"What?!? Whoa, wait a minute, man. I don't swing that way; never have and never will. Whatever you're seeing obviously is focused on the wrong guy." Blair shifted as if to get up and leave, only to stop when he realized how rude the action would be and the fact that his group still needed the hospitality of the tribe.
The old man sighed and shook his head. He spoke directly to the youth then picked up a leather necklace with a small disc threaded on it. He leaned forward and moved smoothly to his knees, holding the necklace out to Blair. "Accept this gift as a symbol of your destiny."
"I-I don't know--"
"If only to please an old man."
Blair bit his lower lip, thinking for several seconds, then nodded. "Oh well, what could it hurt. Thank you." Moving up to his knees, he leaned forward to allow the old man to slip the necklace over his head.
Chanting softly, the old man lifted the necklace and carefully draped it over Blair's head. Raising his voice, he let go of the leather and placed his hands firmly on Blair's jaws to raise his head back up. The shaman trapped frightened blue eyes with his brown-black ones and continued to chant.
Even though he knew he was being a little too trusting with the native, Blair never thought the man would try to do anything to him while the rest of his group wasn't all that far away. But when the bony hands grabbed his head and tilted it back up, he almost jerked back. That was, until he was paralyzed by the gaze of two burning coals staring at him from the face of the old shaman. He couldn't understand the words being chanted; the youth wasn't providing an interpretation this time. Like a sink plug being pulled, the fear drained out of him and he relaxed, closing his eyes.
"I remember waking up alone in the hut the next morning. The shaman and kid were gone and one of the TA's from the group was calling for me. I didn't remember the conversation we had until just now." Blair drug his eyes away from the pool and up at Incacha. "I was told you'd wandered away from the tribe, telling the elders that your time with them was done. They said you went off to die, but you didn't. Did you?"
Incacha smiled. "My time with them was finished. I did what I needed to do and moved on to what I had to do next."
"And that was?"
"A warrior from outside the Chopec was going to need guidance from a shaman to prepare him for his future. I was there when he arrived."
"Was he as... accepting as I was?" Blair asked, remembering how he reacted.
Incacha walked around the pool until he was beside Blair. "Enqueri accepted my guidance with minimal reluctance because he knew he needed it to survive. You were young, curious and were to return to the great cities to prepare yourself. Your gifts had to be hidden from the evil ones until it was time to take your rightful place."
"At Jim's side." Blair spoke the words, slowly picking up the medallion from his chest and gazing at the side with the figure of the jaguar. When he looked back up at Incacha, there was a hint of anger flaring in his eyes. "Whatever you did to me that night didn't keep. Brackett, one of the raiders, was able to -- to 'read' whatever these powers are you say I have and was going to sell me because of them."
"If he had not been able to see the promise of your gifts, what would have happened to you?" Incacha gently prodded.
A cold feeling blew through Blair's body. "I'd probably be dead. This other guy wasn't too happy with something I did and Brackett stopped him from killing me. You know, before The Chaos, I'd been around shaman and others who had special gifts and none of them reacted anything like Brackett did."
"What were you doing the many months before your capture?"
"Nothing special, really. Besides teaching, I was practicing some yoga exercises and meditation techniques... to connect my mind, spirit and body." Blair groaned. "I was tearing down the barrier, wasn't I?"
Incacha nodded. "It was time for you to do so, though eventually your practices would have brought you here and we would have spoken much sooner. It was clearly not meant to be."
"So, what are these gifts I'm supposed to have? I remember Alex saying something about a healing ability and I've seen a wolf when I know one couldn't have been there. I'm guessing it is my symbol, my spirit guide. Am I supposed to have some type of 'sight'? Will I be able to see Jim's spirit guide?"
"Were you able to see the one belonging to the evil woman?" Incacha waited until Blair shook his head then continued with, "It is not a part of you to see those things of the spirit world, except for your own guide. You are your sentinel's teacher and companion, his friend who knows what he is, what he can do and how you can help him; his guide and his shaman."
Blair felt a small amount of disappointment over not being able to see both spirit animals, but shook it off. "Right, I can be all that. So then what are the gifts I'm supposed to have that others want?"
Instead of answering, Incacha grabbed Blair's head and once again stared into his eyes. "I open the way of the shaman within you."
Blair brought his hands up to break the hold, but froze when he heard Incacha's voice. He wanted to close his eyes when he felt pressure building in his head, but his eyes were once again trapped as they had been so many years before and Blair quit struggling. Only his taut muscles and heavy breathing betrayed his fear.
The notes in the journal had changed near the last pages. They seemed to be less on problems Jim was having with his senses and more on how easily he was handling them on his own. Interspersed were comments on not wanting to push any experiments or suggesting new ideas because Jim was happy with what he could do.
It was the words on the last pages the filled Jim with dread, because they were obviously the things Blair wrote the night before.
But Jim had to have seen just how easily he could handle himself without me. He did find a working well and a usable bathroom without me coaching him. With the way Jim is acting, I was right in thinking that I'd have to let him see how he doesn't need me and he can now get a real partner. I can stay here; it'll be easier if we make a clean break now.
"Easier for who, Chief?" Jim asked, turning away from the journal to look at his companion before returning his attention back to the writing.
Jim needs a partner, another cop who is willing to use a gun when backing him up with his work, and that's not me. I've heard this said many times by others at the precinct and I'm sure Capt. Banks is more than in favor of Jim having a real partner. He's still concerned about the type of influence I have over Jim and whether I'm taking advantage of him. As if.
Jim swears that he and I have a connection and working together is right. It has felt that way, but I don't want to be the cause of his death. Sentinels have the territorial prerogative to protect the tribe and those who are a part of it. I know Jim feels that he and I are to be partners, but I got him hurt once because of what another thought I was or could do for them. I don't feel there's anything really special about me except for the fact that I know about sentinels. I just don't know what to do.
This new world can't afford to lose someone like Jim. There's got to be someone on the police force who can help him, protect him. I hope I can be brave enough and strong enough to convince him of this.
Ellison closed the book and rubbed his face. Dropping his hands back into his lap, he looked up at the two animals watching from the edge of the forest. "Thank you, wolf. If you hadn't brought Sandburg's backpack, I never would have even considered reading his journal."
The wolf raised his head at the sound of Jim's voice. When he quit speaking, the animal stood up, gave a mighty sneeze, shook his body to rid his fur of the rain that had been collecting and trotted off into the woods. The specter of the black jaguar, looking as dry and comfortable as if it had been lying in a warm cave, growled at Jim.
"I have a hard job in front of me, don't I?" The animal flicked his tail and yawned. "Why do I get the idea that you don't believe I can convince him about us? Beat it, cat. I'll make sure he knows how I feel and how much I want him to stay." With those words, the jaguar faded away like the Cheshire cat, leaving the sound of his purring instead of the mythical grin.
"Be calm, young Shaman. What I do must be done to remove the rest of the barrier created to hide your gifts." Incacha's voice spoke softly in Blair's head. "Healer and giver of strength to your sentinel and awareness of emotions in others are your main gifts. Because they have not been used, it will take time until they grow to full strength."
Blair tried to relax, but the building pressure in his head was turning into a stabbing pain. It was a dull ache behind his eyes; a sharper twinge throbbed on the right side of his head. Without warning, a spike of pain flared and Blair jerked away to fall to the ground. Moaning, he wrapped his arms around his head and curled onto this side.
Firm hands on his shoulder pulled Blair onto his back and brought his arms down to his side. "I am sorry, young one. If I had warned you, you would have resisted harder and it would have hurt more."
"Gee, thanks," Blair forced out between clenched teeth. "Damn, that hurts!"
"It will lessen as the breach heals." Incacha began to massage across Blair's forehead with his hands, trying to release the tension he could feel.
"Speaking of, ow, healing, can I...?" Blair raised his hand and waved it in a vague gesture toward his head.
"Would you use a boulder to crack a nut? A spear to stop a fly?"
"In other words, don't waste the energy on something that isn't serious. Right?"
Incacha gave him a soft smile, continuing the massage. "It would be a large strain on your body, taking the energy from it in order to try and heal it."
"Makes sense. Wait a minute, Jim's wound. He'd been shot and healed pretty fast. If that ability was blocked, how did it happen?" Blair grabbed Incacha's hands and moved them away, then slowly pushed at the ground until he was sitting up.
The shaman's smile broadened. "The connection between the two of you must truly be strong without a formal bonding."
Blair groaned. "No! There can't be." He slammed a fist against the ground.
"You still want to be separate from your sentinel?"
"Someone's already tried to kill him over me. Cascade needs someone like him and I won't be the cause of his death. It'd be better if we split up so he can find a partner who can guard his back."
"Come," Incacha ordered, standing and holding out a hand. "See what would have been and what could be."
Blair looked between the hand and the shaman's face then raised his own and allowed the other to pull him to his feet. He was turned around until they were once again facing the pool of water.
"The night you and your sentinel found each other, do you remember what happened?"
"Yeah, unfortunately," Blair whispered, swallowing hard at the memory.
"See what would have happened had you not been there." Incacha waved his hand over the pool and the water shimmered as if disturbed and, again, a picture appeared. The scene was alarmingly familiar.
It was a birds-eye view of a warehouse. To the left were the front doors being forced open with uniformed police officers and detectives charging in, shouting and waving guns. In the center was an area barricaded off with plastic walls and bright lights; two figures were standing frozen near plastic draped tables holding two naked bodies covered with blood. To the far right were more doors, also being forced open. Directly underneath, like a swarm of hornets disturbed in their nest, several men burst out of an office and started firing their weapons at the police.
Blair's eyesight was immediately drawn to the figure of Jim Ellison charging into the warehouse. Captain Banks and Detectives Brown and Rafe followed closely behind. The four men split up, with Banks moving toward the center and the other three heading for the office. Both Brown and Rafe were moving cautiously, keeping as much to cover as they could. Ellison, however, continued forward as if he either wasn't worried about getting hurt or deliberately charging into the danger.
The three made it to the office and disappeared into it. They were only there for a minute before coming back out and chasing after the raiders. When a bullet pierced Jim's arm, Blair reached toward him. The hand was grabbed by a strong brown one and pulled away from the water.
"No, you cannot stop this," Incacha said and released Blair's arm when he felt any resistance fade.
Sandburg watched in anguish as his friend collapsed, clutching his arm. Brown ran over and knelt by him, but was waved off. Ellison was sitting up and yelling "I'm all right" and telling Brown to go after the others. When the black detective moved off, Ellison fell back onto the floor with his eyes clenched shut. It was obvious he didn't hear the man creeping up and pointing the gun at him.
The gun fired. The man it was pointed at jerked, a small hole appeared above his right eye and he collapsed. Lifeless orbs of pale blue stared at the ceiling.
A sob tore from Blair's throat as he clutched the side of the pool. "Jim," he moaned. The scene disappeared and he stared only at his reflection. After bringing his frantic breathing down, he finally stammered, "Tha--That never happened."
"No, it did not."
"Because I was there to save him."
"You saved each other. You helped him gain control over the senses that were giving him problems that day and he pulled you from a life of slavery. He does not rush into danger any more as if he doesn't care."
Sandburg took a shaky breath and let it out forcefully. "No, he's usually arguing with me about keeping safe during a firefight or making sure I'm sticking to him like glue before he checks out a scene."
"Like brothers, you watch out for each other."
"And if I leave him now?"
Incacha stared at Blair, his dark eyes unreadable. Finally he said, "There are several possibilities."
Blair stared back down into the dark water. "He... he gets hurt or dies?"
"That is one. Another is that you have given him enough control to continue, though he refuses any other partner and again becomes reckless. A third is he decides to leave his duty as Sentinel of the Great City and follow after you on your search. That path foretells much danger and the possibility of death."
"His or mine?"
Incacha shrugged his shoulders. "The future is not yet written and you must choose if you want random destiny to decide which future you both go to or have a hand in it by following the path before you." Incacha backed away from Blair as he spoke and disappeared into the darkness of the shadows.
"That's what that word means on the doorway. I have to make a choice that can affect not only my life, but also Jim's. It's not a fair choice." Bringing his gaze up, Blair saw that the shaman was no longer beside him. He turned in a circle, but the other was gone.
"Life hasn't been fair since kindergarten, Chief, and I don't think it was fair even then."
"Jim?" Sandburg spun quickly back to the pool, sure he'd heard his friend's voice, but no one was there. Gazing down at the still water, he saw the reflection of his own face. Slowly materializing beside it was another face, a man with short dark hair, light colored eyes and a broad, relaxed smile. Sandburg knew that face and smiled back at it, making his decision. "What other choice could I make?" he said softly.
Looking up into the darkness around him, Blair called out, "Incacha? Hey, how do I get back?"
"You make this choice freely and accept the responsibility of all that goes with it?" The shaman's voice echoed in the chamber.
"Yes. If Jim still wants me, I'll work hard to master the gifts I have and be his Guide."
"Done. With training and guidance, other abilities may develop, though you must beware of who offers to help. Trust your inner self and your own spirit guide." The light faded from the room and Blair screamed "Jim!" when the ground dropped out from underneath him and he grabbed at anything to stop his descent. Then darkness filled his mind and there was silence.
Ellison had been lying on top of the sleeping bag he'd pulled from his tent, dozing until he heard Sandburg begin to make noise and become restless in his own bag. Glancing quickly at his watch, he saw it was near midnight. He'd gotten a couple of hours of sleep, but he didn't feel very rested. After placing more wood on the fire to stoke it up, Ellison moved back beside his friend. He listened carefully to Sandburg's breathing, relaxing slightly when he couldn't detect any indications of the congestion getting worse.
"...mmmm....hurts..." Blair muttered, struggling to get his arms out of the sleeping bag.
Jim pulled on the zipper, helping Blair free his arms. "Easy, Buddy. Don't mess with that." Grabbing the arms reaching for the cloth draped across Blair's forehead, Jim brought them back down and rubbed them gently as he tried to calm his friend. "Tell me where it hurts, Blair."
"No," Blair moaned, tossing his head. "...can't be."
Worried about the delirium the younger man was exhibiting, Jim grabbed the now warm cloth from his head and dipped it into the nearby pan of water. Wringing it out, he dabbed it around Blair's face to cool the warm skin. "It's all right, Chief. Just wake up and you'll see that everything is okay."
For several minutes Ellison spoke softly to his friend, comforting his restlessness and cajoling him to wake up. Sandburg calmed, but he stayed unconscious and mumbled at a level that even Ellison couldn't decipher. Undeterred, the detective continued to use the damp cloth to wipe his friend's face. He turned to access the nearby pan of water again when he heard Sandburg inhale deeply, sounding almost like a sob.
"JIM!" Blair's body seized in a spasm, his back arching up and head thrown back. His arm shot up into the air, hand reaching... and was met by Jim's catching it.
Any other time, Jim would have sworn his action was pure reflex brought about by years of training in the Army and later honed by his time working for the Cascade Police Department. This time, however, he knew he grabbed for the hand because it was Blair reaching out for help, reaching out for him, and Jim would do anything to ensure he was there any time and every time Blair needed him.
"I'm here, Blair. I'm holding your hand. Wake up and look at me." Ellison placed his free hand along Sandburg's face, brushing the damp hair back. "Come on, Chief. You've scared me long enough." The body next to him relaxed with a long sigh then the eyelids fluttered before opening.
Blair blinked rapidly to clear the fuzziness from his eyes. His head was spinning, making him feel as if the ground had dropped out from under him and he'd fallen down a deep dark shaft. He took a deep breath only to have a bout of coughing erupt out of his chest, and he shut his eyes at the onslaught. Tightening his grip on the warm thing in his hand, he dragged it down to his chest, rolled to his side and hung on.
Ellison helped Sandburg roll and used his free hand to rub the young man's shuddering back. "Easy does it, kid. Try to catch your breath and take control. You can do it."
Finally, the coughing calmed and Blair gasped to catch his breath. Rolling back over, he realized what he was holding and reluctantly released Jim's hand. He felt it give his own hand a gentle squeeze then draw away. It returned almost immediately to wipe his face with cool, damp cloth. "Jim?" he croaked out.
"Who else, Chief? How're you feeling?"
"Sore, tired... pretty much like crap." A soft chuckle came from above and Blair opened his eyes to see the relieved and smiling face of his friend.
"Pretty good description of how you look. How about taking a couple of aspirins with a little water? They'll help with that fever you're sporting." Not waiting for a reply, Jim leaned over to grab a canteen while he dug into his pocket for the medicine.
Blair felt his upper body being gently lifted and he accepted the coated pills pushed past his lips. The cold water that followed shortly after felt wonderful despite the metallic taste. "What happened?" he asked after he was lowered and the sleeping bag was pulled back around his body. "How long have I been out?"
"For a few hours. What do you remember?" Jim asked, shifting closer and giving the other his full attention.
"Being in the clearing and finding that someone had been there. Then there was some animal growling and I must have panicked. Took off running toward the stream and fell in. After that, it's a bit fuzzy. I -- I tried to make it back to my shelter. Knew you'd be worried and start looking for me if I was late."
"I was and did. I found you not far from your shelter. You were close, almost made it."
"What does Joel like to say? Close only counts with horseshoes, hand grenades and terrorist bombs." Blair smiled as his statement caused Jim to throw his head back and laugh, but he quickly sobered when he saw the angry red mark on the larger man's throat. Freeing his arm from the sleeping bag, Blair reached up and touched it. "When did you do this?"
Ellison almost jerked away when he felt the fingertips touching his throat, then his instincts kicked in to tell him it was okay and he relaxed. His partner was showing his concern. "Nothing, really. I didn't dodge quick enough when a board broke under my feet. Looks worse than it is."
"You did this today? It looks like it's a couple of days old."
Fingering the area, Jim realized the scratch wasn't hurting and felt like it was a few days old. Looking at his hands, he saw that the marks on them were also almost gone. Surprised, he turned to Blair and saw the younger man was wearing a satisfied smile. "What's going on?"
Ignoring the question, Sandburg asked, "How are your senses doing? Are you still feeling like you're being blocked?"
Unconsciously, Ellison closed his eyes and opened his senses. He easily heard Sandburg's heart, beating slightly faster, and the congestion still in his lungs. Raising his hand and holding it over the prone man's head, Ellison could feel that the other still had a fever, hovering around 100 degrees, but that it was lower than it had been earlier. He could smell the illness from Sandburg's body, but it didn't cover up the odor of herbal shampoo mixed with moss and mud scents coming from the kid's hair. Then other sensations began to make themselves known. Ellison could 'feel' the areas where Sandburg was injured: the throbbing pain from the knee, the bruising ache along the ribs and the pulsing headache. Most important was the fact that Ellison knew Sandburg was lying right beside him without having to see him there.
A pleased smile blossomed across Jim's face. "They're back."
"I'm back to being a blip on your radar. Right?" Blair saw Jim's body relax at the realization and open his eyes to look down at him. He could see the older man had many questions on his mind, but was hesitant to ask. "Go ahead and ask, Jim. I know you want to and reading minds isn't one of the things I'm supposed to be able to do. At least, I don't think so."
"You know what had caused the blockage, don't you?"
Blair looked slightly abashed, his eyes drifting off to look anywhere but at his friend. "I've never been sold on the idea that you and I have any type of connection. No, that's not true. I didn't want to accept it because that meant you had to be tied down with me and for a partner, and I'm not the best idea of one. You know I have a problem with using a gun."
"I told you that didn't make a difference to me. Having someone I trust covering my back is more important than whether or not you can use a weapon. I trust you to be there, Blair, no matter what anyone at the precinct might think."
"Yeah, well my mind thought otherwise and I had to make a decision, more like a choice on if I was willing to accept my place in a specific destiny or go another direction. I was really thinking about telling you that it was time for you to get a real partner and I was going to stay here, wait out winter before moving on."
"Since everything is back on line, I guess I don't have to ask you what your decision was, do I? What caused you to make this choice? You don't have to tell me. I don't want to pry if this is something you want or need to keep to yourself, Chief."
Blair rolled his eyes mumbled, "Oh, Lord. Where's a tape recorder when you really need one? Jim Ellison not wanting control of a situation. I don't believe it."
"Not funny, Chief. I know you believe it's a part of a sentinel's make-up to have control over everything, but I've tried not to pry into things you might like to keep private. We work together and we share a home, and though I'm not someone who talks about my feelings, I do appreciate all you have done for me. Do you realize that I gave you control of my life and you made it better, more comfortable? And now you're doing more for me, aren't you?" Ellison brought his hand up to his throat.
Dropping his gaze, Sandburg shifted in discomfort. "A sentinel's duty is to protect the tribe. My duty is to take care of you."
"And every sentinel has to have a partner, that special partner. What did you call them?"
"Guides."
"Right, every Sentinel has to have a Guide and I know I found mine. What do you think?"
"You really want me? Even with as much trouble as I've caused?"
Jim dropped his head and shook it, sighing in exasperation. "Sandburg, you test the patience of a saint." Leaning forward, he forced Blair's face back up and glared into his eyes. "Say the first sentence again and take the question out of it."
Blair stared up into the pale blue eyes for several seconds. Then he smiled and said softly, "You really want me."
"That's much better. At times you've been an exasperating, hyper and annoyingly energetic kid, but you've never been trouble, Chief. The way you've taken care of this stubborn, pigheaded cop without being asked makes you pretty special. And this stuff you've done for my injuries..."
"I'm not trying to do it, not consciously, but Incacha told me that healing is one of my gifts. The fact that I've been able to do it without us being formally bonded opened my eyes. He said there are oth--"
"Whoa! How do you know Incacha?"
Bringing his hand up, Blair pulled out his necklace. "Remember when I told you about the old shaman who gave me this when I was 17? It was him, uh, or at least he said it was him at one time. He'd helped me back then by blocking my... these gifts I'm supposed to have until you and I could get together. I know this sounds like, so impossible, but I was talking to him while I was unconscious. We were at this old temple and he showed me ~yawn~ some things that made me realize how much we are supposed to be together."
Blair fingered the medallion, flipping it over in his fingers then tucked it back into his shirt. "Jim? What's wrong?" Blair asked when he realized his friend was staring into the fire. He rested his hand on the silent man's arm. "Come on back, Jim."
Ellison blinked and looked back down at Sandburg. "I wasn't zoning, Chief. Just remembering a time I spent with a shaman named Incacha. He helped me handle my senses back when I was in the Army, in Peru. I'd almost forgotten about that time."
"Really? Man, that's totally ~yawn~ cool. We'll have to talk about it when we get home."
"Yeah, we'll do that. At home. Why don't you drink a little more water then get some sleep?"
Jim helped the younger man sit up and take a drink, then situated him into his sleeping bag and waited until he was sure Blair was asleep. He stoked the fire up and threw a couple more chunks of wood onto it before settling back down onto his own sleeping bag, his head propped on his hand. Across the fire and through the drizzle, two pairs of eyes stared out at Jim from the brush; one pair was yellow green and the other was a dark shade of blue. He nodded at the two animals then dropped his head down and tried to get his own rest.
Ellison's eyes popped open as he jerked awake. Sitting up quickly, he saw that he was no longer resting at the camp in Bounty. For one thing, Sandburg and the tents were missing. The other thing was the type of foliage surrounding him. It definitely wasn't what one would find in a forest in Washington, but more conducive to a very warm and moist area commonly found near the equator.
Understanding that he was in a dream state, Jim relaxed and stood up. He saw that his clothes were different; he hadn't worn an outfit like this since the Army. His BDU pants and boots were both well worn and comfortable, definitely broken in. While he remembered he normally wore the appropriate short-sleeved t-shirts with this uniform, this time he wore an olive-drab tank top and no over blouse. The last time he looked like this was during his time in the La Montana region of Peru, when he had lived with the Chopec Indians for over a year and a half. In fact, his surroundings did look similar to that area, too.
"Enqueri."
Surprised, Ellison spun around and took a step back at the sight before his eyes. "Yachachej." He automatically used the Quechau word for teacher then switched to English. "Incacha. After the last time, I didn't think to ever see you again."
The Shaman shrugged a shoulder, a benign smile on his face. "There are things I still must do; I still have a path before me."
"Like making Blair change his mind about staying with me." It was an accusation.
"His decision, truly. I only showed him all he needed to know before choosing. A choice made without knowing all that is involved is not a wise choice. It was also time for him to know who and what he is and remember that which had been hidden."
"Remember who and what he is? What are you talking about?"
"Who are you?"
Ellison frowned and immediately replied, "Jim Ellison."
Incacha nodded. "What are you?"
"I'm a detective for the Cascade P.D., Major Crime division."
At this, Incacha shook his head. "What are you, Enqueri?"
Ellison inhaled sharply and hesitated before finally admitting, "I am a sentinel, protector of my tribe."
"So much alike is your wawqe1 to you. He knows he is to be yachachej2 to you, but he fears what he may bring to you because of his ability to be that. It is why he was not willing to accept his place at your side. He did not know he is also jamp`iri3 and that is why other sentinales would want him."
"You're saying Blair is a -- a sorcerer?"
"He is not aysiri4! Do you feel evil in him?" The anger in the shaman's voice was very evident. "He is as I am, though his abilities are different, as they should be. He is your Guide, the true one I had foreseen many seasons past."
"So he's my guide, teacher and also a shaman. No wonder he wasn't too keen about accepting the situation. I wasn't too happy about having these senses; I can only imagine what he's going through." Jim rubbed a hand over his face.
"Like you, he is what he is and cannot try to forget without doing harm to himself and to you. He understands that now and has made his choice." Incacha stood, turned and started walking out of the clearing. He stopped and looked back at Jim. "He knows of your k ita misi5 and his k ita algo6, though only you can see both. He will help you understand why they are with you." Then he was gone.
Jim stood alone in the clearing, wondering when he was going to wake up and how he could bring up this situation to Blair, when he heard a familiar low growl. Looking carefully to the left, he watched as his black jaguar slinked out of the brush and gracefully laid down on his side about 10 feet away. Behind him followed a silver wolf, looking very similar to the one who'd brought him Blair's backpack. The animal trotted once around the large cat then took up a position beside him and also laid down. The wolf leaned over and snuffled at the jaguar's neck and the large cat gave a satisfied purr.
Ellison smiled at the scene and was not startled when they faded out. If those two can make it together, we can too, Chief. It was his last thought. The area quickly darkened and he didn't know anymore until he woke back in Bounty.
The two men woke before dawn, Blair due to the call of nature and Jim due to the low groans and curses emanating from Blair as he tried to get out of his sleeping bag to answer the call. Suppressing the smirk that threatened to appear on his face when his friend glared at him, Jim helped Blair up and to the outhouse. The rain had stopped, but the morning air was a damp cold.
"How does your knee feel? Think you can walk a bit on it today?" Jim asked, feeling gently around the joint after they'd returned and settled back down near the fire.
Blair winced slightly at the touch. "Sure. Maybe, if we wrap it up tight. We gonna start home today?"
Ellison smiled at Sandburg's combination of the words 'we' and 'home' again. He figured the younger man wasn't even conscious of what he was saying. "Why don't we see how well you hold up just walking around here? I'd rather be sure you are able to move around a whole day while we're near a good water supply. Even though your fever is gone and your lungs sound better, another day of rest couldn't hurt either. Besides, there is one more place we probably should check out before we leave and you need to see this." He grabbed the backpack brought by the wolf and pulled out the old journal he'd found in it.
It was his. Blair knew it without even opening it. In fact, it was the last one he'd been writing in before Bounty had been attacked. Hesitantly, he took the journal and ran his hand across the cover before looking back at Jim. "You read it?"
"Only the last entry," Ellison replied, then mumbled under his breath, "in that one." Standing up, he decided to give Sandburg some privacy. He would search around and try to find whatever had happened to the bodies they should have found when they had arrived.
Nodding, Blair turned his attention back to the book and opened it to the first page. He smiled at the handwriting, remembering how excited he'd been when he'd found the old diary buried in the box from the Cohen's attic. He'd only been allowed to copy from it, knowing it wasn't safe to take it to the building where he and Naomi were living. The diary's author had been married to a man who'd exhibited strange sensory abnormalities. Blair knew the man had been a sentinel who'd never learned control or found anyone who could help him and eventually fell into a zone out in which he'd never recovered. Shaking his head, Blair flipped through the pages until he was at the last pages. It wasn't his handwriting.
We only lived in Bounty for 4 years, but it was obviously too long. I blame myself for what happened to him; we should have moved on the year before when Blair suggested it. But I was too happy and wanted to wait one more year.
Blair is a highly gifted young man; I refuse to believe that he is dead. He must have gotten his intelligence from his father, for it is obvious that I don't use mine enough. He is also very special, though I'm not sure exactly how. I once had his aura read when he was young and the seer became excited. She wouldn't tell me what she'd found, only that I should bring him back to her when he "found his rightful place."
In the rest of the journals in this bag is the research documentation he's collected on an obscure type of human he calls sentinels. Blair's been obsessed with learning all he could concerning them and one day hoped to find one and help him or her with their abilities. I pray he has been able to do so and will live the life he's dreamed. Please take these to the nearest university with a good anthropology program and donate them in Blair's name.
I am not taking any of his things with me to Canada, with the exception of some pictures. We both believe in detaching with love and keeping the journals and any of his personal affects will only keep alive the pain of what happened. I have many friends across the border and will take time to visit them all, tell them what happened here in Bounty and of my son.
Naomi Sandburg
Blair closed the journal and wiped the moisture that threatened to spill from his eyes. He looked up into the tree line and sniffed strongly to clear his clogged sinuses. With a little difficulty, Blair got to his feet using the walking stick Jim had made for him and went to search for his friend.
It hadn't been hard to find the larger man; Blair just trusted his instincts to determine where he might be. And Jim was there, standing in front of a large mound of stones with planks sticking upright in them. On each of the planks was a name and one date; the day Bounty had been attacked.
"What are you doing up, Sandburg?" Jim asked, not turning around. He'd known the young man was coming toward him, but also knew Blair had to see what he'd found.
Blair ignored the question and asked one of his own. "This is where the rest are buried, isn't it?"
"It's what I was feeling was wrong about the area. There should have been some evidence of those the raiders didn't take. I didn't figure it out until yesterday afternoon." Jim held up the small pad of paper he always had handy for taking notes at a crime scene. "I've copied all the names down so that we can report who's here. The names can be sent out through the data network the military set up to see if they might have any relatives."
"Many of them didn't. That's why they were living here. We usually had a few each year who were traveling in search of their family and would only stay through the winter until they could get across the mountains. Besides, there isn't anything left for a relative to find." At his friend's silence, Blair asked, "Is there?"
Jim turned away from the mass grave. "There could be one place that might have some things stored in it. I saw it when I was going after you yesterday. Looks like some type of old style root cellar. Ready to go look at it?"
Blair nodded, but stayed facing the large grave. He closed his eyes and dropped his head. "In a minute."
Understanding, Jim turned back and also lowered his head. Clasping his hands in front of his body, he stood silently beside his friend. After several minutes, he heard Blair take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Knowing it was time, Jim clasped a hand onto his friend's arm and helped him walk back toward their encampment.
"How are you doing, Chief?" Jim finally asked when they were back to their tents.
"I'm okay, Jim. I know my mom is alive, I know what happened to the rest of the community and I have the rest of my journals so I can help you."
Ellison paused and rubbed his nose. "Ah, speaking of your journals, I read the one you were writing in night before last."
"You what? Why?"
"After the wolf brought your backpack here and then--"
"The who brought what?"
"The wolf. When I found you near your shelter, there was this wolf checking you out. I tried to scare him away and he crouched down in front of you as if he was trying to guard you. Then after I got you back here and settled, he walked up with your pack and dropped it just a few feet away."
"Okay, I guess you would have reason to go through a bag some wild animal brings up to you, but what gave you the idea you could pry into the one I'm using now?"
"Well, I wasn't going to, but when I was putting your backpack away, I saw it just lying there. You're always watching me, writing in it, and after our conversation the night before, I wanted to know what you were thinking, seeing. I think the cat and the wolf were happy I did."
"Because you thought two illusions--"
"Only the jaguar was an illusion. The wolf got wet in the rain. And after he saw that I was finished reading, he got up and left. The jaguar waited until I told him I'd talk with you."
Blair reached up as if to feel his friend's forehead, only to get his hand batted away. "Are you sure you didn't have a fever, man?"
"No, I don't have a fever and I didn't hallucinate the animals. Quit looking at me like I lost my marbles. I know what I saw, even if one of them wasn't physically there." Jim wiped a hand over his face and noticed the grin growing on the smaller man's face. "What are you smiling at?"
"He told me there was someone watching over you while I was with him last night, but I didn't think it would be our spirit guides."
Ellison knew who the 'he' was Sandburg was referring. "The wolf was real enough. Though he did act like he could see the other."
"Probably could. Animals have always been able to sense things that humans can't. There's several studies that looked at the way animals could sense earthquakes minutes before they happened, knew tornadoes were building before they happened and a whole slew of other strange things."
"Thank you, Mr. Wizard." Jim's voice dripped with sarcasm then he held out his hands and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, Chief. You know how I am with some of that stuff."
"No, it's all right, Jim. You're the Sentinel and I'm the Guide. You see the stuff and I'm supposed to help you understand it. Okay?"
"Uh, I'd rather you have the weird stuff happen and I'll try to not think you're crazy or something."
Blair laughed softly. "Sorry, man. Unfortunately we can't pick and choose what we're supposed to have, no matter how much we want. We'll discuss this more tonight. So where's the root cellar you found?" He started walking up the path that led to his shelter.
Accepting the change in the conversation, Jim strode quickly up to his friend's side. "It's a ways off the path about half way there. I don't know why I looked in that direction."
"You had your senses on high alert trying to find me, Jim. Anything out of the ordinary would have been like a neon sign. So you registered it as something important, but kept to your mission. Ow!" Blair stumbled and was stopped from falling on his face by the strong hands that grabbed him.
Jim held onto the smaller man until he was able to stand on his own. "Slow it down, Sandburg. We've got all day and you don't need to cripple yourself by being in a hurry."
Panting to catch his breath and push the pain away, Blair nodded. "Right, right. Sorry about that, Jim. Guess I'm just excited about what we might find."
"I understand. Just take it easy."
"Okay." Moving to stand on his own, Sandburg slowly flexed his injured leg then took a couple of steps to test his weight on it. "I'm okay now. Just need to slow it down."
Walking much slower, it took the two men almost an hour to get to the part of the path where Jim remembered seeing the wooden door through the trees. He pointed and grabbed onto Blair's arm to help him over the rough terrain. The other didn't protest the help and soon both could see the portal.
"Any ideas, Chief?" Jim asked when they stopped at the door.
Blair sat down on a nearby log. A soft 'ahhh' escaped his mouth as he extended his bad leg out. "Nope. I traveled up that path more times than I can remember and this is the first time I've seen it. Don't even remember anyone talking about it, either."
Jim moved closer to the door and examined it carefully, extending his senses. "There's fresh scratches on the padlock. Someone picked the lock at least once. See these marks on the ground? Something was dragged up and away, too."
"Can you smell anything, Jim?"
Taking a sniff, Ellison scrunched his nose and sneezed twice. "Yeah, a lot of things." Pinching and rubbing his nose, he coughed.
"Filter out what you know would be around here like the pines, moss, even me and concentrate on what shouldn't be here." Pushing himself back to his feet, Blair moved closer to his friend and rested his hand lightly on the other's back.
Relaxing his shoulders and nodding, Jim took a careful inhale. "Wax, spoiled vegetables... ~cough~ cured meat, either ham or bacon and... ~achoo!~ sage. Burnt sage." Jim sneezed a couple more times and gratefully took the handful of tissues Blair held out to him.
Moving up to the door and placing his hands against it, Blair said softly, "Naomi would always burn sage when she was upset and needed to meditate. I bet she did it after the attack, after she... took care of the others and probably before she left. Can you get this open without breaking the lock?"
Throwing his partner a sidelong glance, Ellison nodded and reached into his pocket. Blocking Sandburg's view, he turned to the door and picked up the lock. Smiling, Blair stepped back and gave the larger man the privacy he obviously wanted.
"Misspent youth, Jim?" Blair asked, unable to keep the humor from his voice.
Keeping his back to his friend, Jim replied, "Several years as an Army Ranger and if I tell you any more, I'll have to kill you. Get it? "
"Got it, man."
"Good. I'd hate to have to end such a short but wonderful partnership, Chief." With a loud snap, the lock came undone and Jim took it off the door and turned to the other. "Ready?"
Nodding, Blair moved back up to Jim's side and unconsciously held his breath as the door was opened. The movement pulled the air from the inside out and Blair was able to smell the sage his friend had identified. "Dial it back, Jim," Blair cautioned as the other stumbled back.
Sneezing violently, Jim nodded and covered his nose and mouth with the tissues until he was able to get control. Breathing through his mouth, he moved forward and looked through the doorway. "The stairs go down for about six feet then it opens into a small room. Looks like someone had been living down there. I can see a few empty mason jars and candle stubs. Let me go first, Sandburg."
Reaching into his pocket, Ellison pulled out a small flashlight and passed it over to his friend. Sandburg nodded and turned it on, but kept the beam pointed to the ground at his feet to keep from blinding the other.
Once he was down the stairs and into the small room, Ellison was able to see candles placed around the room and pulled out matches to light them. The flames created a soft light in the room, showing that it wasn't all that small. Turning to watch his friend make his way carefully down the stairs, he said, "There's several boxes and jars with people's names on them."
"Probably the personal effects of the residents. I'm surprised she was able to find so much." Blair picked up one box with a name he knew and opened it. Inside were hair ribbons, a small child's glasses, a doll with a porcelain head that was cracked and a tiny purse. He picked up the doll and ran his hand over its hair. "Arial was only five years old, but she was very smart. She was really small for her age, almost a doll herself."
"I know it doesn't mean much, but her death would have been very quick. She probably didn't feel a thing."
Blair nodded and placed the doll back into the box. He closed the lid carefully and pushed the box back onto the shelf. After wiping the moisture from his eyes, he moved over to where Jim was checking names on containers with the list he'd made earlier. "Finding any matches?"
Ellison nodded. "And a few more. It looks like only one person lived in here for a while and used whatever they could find to store the others' personal effects, though there isn't any currency here."
"Naomi wouldn't have taken any personal items with her, but she wasn't completely stupid. She knew she'd need money to get up to Canada and survive, but she only would have taken so much. Anything else she would have hidden in case there were looters." Stepping back, Blair studied the room for several minutes. Then he pointed to the shelves holding the jars of fruit preserves. "Knowing her sense of humor, Naomi would hide any extra cash behind those."
"The currant jelly? You're kidding?" Moving the jars, Jim found a cut out square on the panel of wood against the wall. Pulling out his pocketknife, he opened a blade and dug the piece out. "Bingo!"
Reaching in, Jim pulled out a large, lumpy wad of cloth. Placing it on the ground, he opened it to reveal a whole lot of paper money in different denominations. Another wad was full of coins. "Sandburg?"
That one word asked a very important question that Blair wished he didn't have to answer, but knew he had to. "We'll register it with the police. It can be split among any relatives who can be found."
"And if there isn't anyone?"
Blair stared down at the mounds of money then over at his companion. "There are a lot of charities that can use this type of help. I have everything I need."
Jim gave his friend a wide toothy grin and nodded. Tying the bundles back up, he packed them into his backpack. He also started grabbing a few mason jars. "We can take some of this food back with us and have something special for dinner. Anything here you want before we head back?"
Spying a picture in a frame that must have fallen off a shelf, Blair bent over and picked it up. Reverently, he brushed the dirt from it. "Just this," he finally said, showing it to his friend. "The rest we can leave here for whoever the police send back."
Jim could see that one of the figures was Blair, though he was much younger. Beside him was a willowy looking woman with soft red hair gazing down at the child under her arm with a look full of love. "No problem, Chief. Let's go." Making sure his friend made it up the stairs safely, Jim blew out the candles and made sure the door was solidly closed before replacing the lock.
Both men were quiet as they headed back for the trail, each for their own reasons. Once out of the woods, Jim jerked his thumb in the direction of Blair's clearing and asked, "Do you want anything from that other place?"
"No, the backpack was the only thing of value to me. Maybe someone needing a place will find it." With no further comment and clearly wanting time to himself, Blair turned and limped down the path back toward their tents. Jim followed, but stayed back far enough to allow his friend the privacy he desired.
"Thanks for the great meal, Chief," Jim complimented his companion after he finished cleaning up after dinner. "Why don't you cook more at the loft?"
Blair smiled in pleasure, picked up a stick from the nearby woodpile and pointed it at Jim. "Maybe because you don't let me near the kitchen. You're pretty territorial when it comes to certain places."
"I am not."
"Oh? What did you do when that new forensic tech sat at your desk and logged on to your computer? I thought you were going to toss her out of the bullpen."
"I should have. She shut down a screen I was using without logging me out and froze my access. I had to call tech services to get it reestablished and they harassed me for days."
"How about when Detective Brown wanted to borrow your stapler? You plucked it out of his hands after he picked it up and told him to go find his own. In fact, you've made it clear to a lot of them that your things are off limits to them. Even me."
Ellison opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, trying to get out a denial, but he couldn't say the words.
Sandburg saw the struggle his friend was going through and decided to help him out. "Hey, its okay, man. After all the years I was treated like a geek, it's really nice having the class jock as a best friend. No more hassling."
"Except from those who are still pulling the practical jokes on you." Jim watched as the happy expression faded from Blair's face. "They should have stopped a long time ago, Chief. In fact, they never should have happened. Hazing isn't an accepted practice at the precinct. It hasn't been for a long time."
Blair stared into the fire, stirring the embers nearest to him. "You may not think it's going on, but it still does, Jim. It's a standard, societal practice that has been around for years. In every facet of human interaction, the new people have to earn their acceptance. Sometimes it just takes longer than normal."
Jim leaned over and grabbed the hand with the stick, startling the younger man out of his daze. "Blair, would you let anyone run around behind my back calling me a freak because of my senses? Or doing things to get a reaction out of me."
"Of course not, man. You are not a freak and you know it."
"And you are not a geek who deserves to be harassed because he's the new kid on the block. It's going to end, and we will also talk to those who think I need a partner who carries a weapon."
Anger flared up in Blair's eyes. "That's not fair, Jim. What I wrote was private."
"How would you feel if you found out I was keeping a private journal on the problems I was having at the precinct due to my senses and was thinking about taking off before someone got hurt because of me?" Seeing Sandburg flush in embarrassment, Ellison continued. "I had a dream last night, after you woke up and told me you'd spoke with Incacha. Did he tell you that he helped me after I'd crashed in Peru? That he saved my life and my sanity by helping me with my senses?"
"You're Enqueri! He said he had to be there when you arrived so that he could prepare you for your future." Blair stared at his friend as if he was seeing him for the first time.
"That was the name I was given by the Chopec when they took me in and healed me. Incacha knew exactly what I was from the start and helped me learn the basics so that I wasn't overwhelmed."
"Me, too. Oh, man." A silly grin spread across Blair's face.
Jim mirrored the expression and started to chuckle. "You know, we both should be angry. Me especially."
"Why's that?"
"Me. Mr. Control Freak, as some whisper when they think I don't hear them." Jim's smile broadened as Blair squirmed. "Doesn't look like either of us were very much in control of our lives, were we?" Both men began to laugh, the sound bordering on hysteria.
"Oh, man. I could really use a drink right about now," Blair gasped once he finally calmed.
Wiping his eyes, Jim leaned back and grabbed his backpack. "Well, now that you mention it, I spotted this on one of the shelves." Reaching into the pack, Jim pulled out a bottle enclosed in a deep blue felt casing. Untying the yellow braided cord around the neck, he pulled down the cloth to reveal a dark green bottle.
"Is that scotch?"
"Not just any old scotch, it's 25-year-old Chivas Regal." Jim held the bottle up to display the label.
Unconsciously, Blair wet his lips. "Oh, man. That stuff is going to be smooth as glass going down." Grabbing up the two cups sitting near the fire, Blair tossed out the coffee remaining in them then used water from his canteen to rinse them out while Jim worked the stopper out of the bottle.
With care, Jim poured an even measure of the fragrant liqueur into each cup, replaced the stopper and set the bottle aside. Raising his cup, he cleared his throat. "Let's make a toast. To a new beginning of--"
"Of our partnership, as Sentinel and Guide," Blair completed the toast, also raising his cup.
Jim nodded in agreement and added, with his eyes locked onto Blair's, his voice dropping low, "And t