Thunderwalker: Book 3 - The Egression

By Michael Schwaba

Luis Palmer has had his eyes opened.

In Colorado Springs the acquiescent, retiring professor of anthropology was stalked, hunted by his former lover Angie, who, after a lengthy absence in Arizona, where Luis thought she had met her end, returned to Colorado dispossessed, infected with the malevolent spirit of a mysterious sorcerer from deep in the Painted Desert whom Luis is all too familiar with, Thunderwalker.

Many have died as a result of this galling sorcerer, some caused by Angie's own uncontrollable drive to insure her own survival, and others which had been synonymous with the strange appearance of the eerie, and very deadly, ghost riders, the Arizos.

Luis is now compelled to return to the Arizona desert, to seek once again the strange portal through which he may enter the sorcerer's lair, to confront Thunderwalker himself face to face, so that he may return a sacred crystal back where it belongs. Returning with him are his son Joseph Blackfeather, who wishes to save the threatened life of his young love Twilight, and Johnny Hawkins, who wants only to avenge the death of his closest friend Jake.

Before they are finished, each will have been tested to their ultimate limits.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Schwaba
• Release date: Feb 15, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311074591

Michael Schwaba

I was born in Chicago on a sunny day in September, one month premature according to my mother. I emerged in the dark wee hours of the morning and four days later I was welcomed into an Irish/Polish Catholic family. I must have slept through it; I don’t remember much of it. I was the fourth child, and in time there would be four more, years before I left home and hometown to go out in the world on my own.My two earliest memories are: 1) lying on the floor, looking at an enormous pair of feet in front of me, and 2) Piano playing. My parents played; my mother’s parents played; my aunts and uncles played. I cannot recall many days when someone wasn’t playing the piano in our house. So, having a love of piano music, I eventually sat down one day and learned to play...the guitar.I loved reading at an early age. It stimulated my imagination, and this inspired me to write.Writing gives me purpose in life. It’s like looking in a mirror. “Oh! There you are! Thought I’d lost you...”I love writing as much as I love reading. I love the excitement of "watching" the characters and feeling the flow of words when I am in the "zone." I love the tired ecstasy of reading something finished, and knowing that it is better written than my last piece. I have even (sometimes) come to love writing myself into a corner, when I don't know where else to go, which I do much more frequently than I used to, only now it is not as crippling as it used to be, though it is still as exasperating. I have proved to myself over time that some of my best writing is to be found in those corners if I will simply do one thing when I don't feel like writing. And that is write.MS

Book preview

Part I

Return To Arizona

1

The Long Weary Road

Nothing was impossible

The oppressive heat from the noonday sun was stifling. Its brilliance cast a whitish hue on the thin pallid road stretching in a near-perfect straight line all the way to the distant horizon. Shimmers of heat radiated off the ground. Even through sunglasses the brilliance was dazzling. Luis Palmer scanned the landscape, vigilantly, but with some practiced boredom, remembering that the last time he had been through this way he had been blinded by the brilliance of the winter snow. Now he was blinded by the steady relentless glare of the Sun. To him Arizona was a bleak place in the four corners area, in summer or winter. And nothing seemed to have changed in all that time he had been gone, since he had last visited here with his father, a Navajo man named Billy Two Trees.

Luis drank from a bottle of water, sweat pouring down his forehead to his cheeks, from his neck to the back side and soaked underarms of his plain white shirt. He glanced over to his son Blacky, Joseph Blackfeather, who slept in a semi-crouched position with a pillow under his head, propped up against the door frame. The wind roared in violently through the open window, dispassionately whipping the locks of hair sticking out from the hat Blacky wore, but it seemed not to bother him. In the back seat sat Johnny Hawkins, trying to sleep but having less luck. He shifted his position often, Luis noticed, and occasionally grunted with some obvious displeasure.

They were riding in Luis' Volkswagen bus, had been riding since the early morning hours. They had at least three more hours to their destination, just south of Black Mesa, where they would meet up with Hank Nez. After that Luis was unsure. He had consulted his notes of his last trip here, about forty years ago, when he had returned here to look for his intrepid yet rather misguided friend, Annie Weston, after her disappearance.

Luis leaned his elbows on the flat driving wheel and frowned. Friend? he thought. You mean lover, don’t you?

Luis sighed uncomfortably with the memory of her. He did not like to think of her as a former lover, especially after seeing what she had become. But there could be no denial of it. It was true. It was true…

Yes…And you still love her…

He groaned inwardly and turned his thoughts again to the mysterious canyon he was searching for. That they were all searching for.

At that time, forty years ago, he had failed to find the canyon, the Place of the Wounded Gorge as it had been called by some, in mythology and story. Luis had found the canyon once, and once only, during which time he had accidentally discovered the crystal spike in the ruins of a cave during his first trip. Its discovery had almost killed him when he was confronted by a strange Indian man who appeared within the shadows of the large cave and demanded that he return it, in a most threatening, menacing tone. Fearful for his life, Luis had refused, using the crystal as a bargaining chip, and it was his refusal that may have saved his life and enabled his escape.

Now that he was returning it, he wondered, would rediscovering the site prove to be a formidable task? Or would the Arizos somehow make it easier for him?

During his second trip, in his search for Annie, he had followed his maps closely, paying special attention to the notes he had made regarding his routes across the desert southwest of the Mesa, the same routes he had taken before. Since he had not found the canyon he had assumed that he had somehow recorded his directions inaccurately. But now he was not so sure. Considering all that had happened recently he felt certain that the canyon was far more mysterious than he had originally supposed. It was not out of the question to say that the hidden land that he had accidentally stumbled into was the same canyon that had trapped Annie, and that its existence was not of this world, but of a completely different dimension. Even with the remarkable events he had witnessed when he was there, forty years ago, he had doubted; even two weeks ago he scoffed at the idea, even to the point of doubting that he had actually been there. But now, having come face to face with the Arizos, having witnessed Twilight's miraculous shape-shifting, having seen what had ultimately become of Annie...

Nothing was impossible. Nothing!

Luis’ hands and forearms hurt. He realized he had been gripping the wheel too tightly. He eased up his grip. Tears were welling in his eyes. He wiped them away and forced himself to focus on the road.

Let it go for now, Luis. Let it go. For now. When it is time to act you will act.

Luis breathed deeply and forcefully exhaled it. His mind had been opened and permanently altered, protesting this change that had been thrust upon him by circumstances beyond his control. His former comfortable life at the University would be no more. The history of his people had caught up with him. The majority of his people believed in the things he had most tried to deny for the greater portion of his life. Perhaps people had died because of his unbelief. He did not know this for certain. He believed as he had because his actions had long been dictated by logic and the apparent visible certainty of the material world. But now those boundaries had been blurred and he was being forced to reckon with the realities of the unseen world, that which anthropologist Carlos Castaneda had called the non-ordinary reality.

He glanced over again at his sleeping son. Joseph had learned to accept this other world, and it showed. He seemed more comfortable with it, despite the gross invasion that had occurred recently. His belief had saved his life, and Johnny's. And Luis' life too, for that matter. He was alive today because of Joseph, and because of Twilight...

Twilight...What had become of her? Luis had been pondering this question ever since the other night. He recalled again the brief dialogue between them before she had been taken into the fog, but taken in a way unlike the others. Her body had not been left behind. Therefore, Luis reasoned, she must still be alive...

There had been a brief interchange between them before she vanished in the fog, (before the fog had seemed to reach out and conceal any trace of her presence). Luis had knelt down to examine the remains of Annie. Sam's voice had come though Twilight, saying, She cannot harm you now. Give me the crystal.

Luis suddenly felt wary. Perhaps the riders will return and kill me if I give up the crystal, he thought. He put his hand in his pocket and firmly grasped the spike. What about Twilight?

Never mind her! Give me the crystal!

What about Twilight! Luis insisted.

Quickly! There is not much time!

Not until I know Twilight is safe!

Twilight's face contorted angrily, and she let out a hiss. Good Sam was apparently no longer in control. Then return it yourself… or suffer the consequences! You have three days... Then the fog had swirled about her.

And she was gone...

#

2

The Hogan

Smells like old Billy

In time Luis turned off the main highway onto a dirt road. For several miles there was nothing to see on the left or right, except endless terrain of still-barren farm patches, rocks, sand, juniper and yucca. Eventually they came to some old decayed barb-wire fence with leaning posts, and Luis knew he would be turning off to the left in another mile. Already he could see the outline of a Hogan standing between two trees. He slowed down and turned in to a parking space next to the Hogan.

What is it? Blacky said, waking up. Where are we?

Luis stopped and turned off the engine.

Where are we? Johnny said, also waking up.

This is Billy's place, Luis said. I wanted to stop here and have a look around.

Ain't it locked? Johnny said, checking out the place through the window.

No, Luis said, Billy never locked it. Probably because he never had anything worth stealing except some whiskey and a few dollars.

Luis got out, and Blacky and Johnny followed him, Johnny raising his arms to the sky and stretching. Luis looked around, remembering the last time he had been here, when Billy had given him Annie's journal, when he had discovered she was still alive, and what had happened to her forty years ago.

Blacky jogged in place vigorously for a minute as Johnny stretched. Luis went up to the Hogan and checked the door. It opened. He smiled at Blacky and went inside, and Blacky and Johnny followed him in. Luis turned on a light in the dark room, but even with the light on it still looked too dark.

Brr, Johnny said, Seems colder in here than it is out there.

It's actually quite cozy in here with a fire going, Luis said, checking the stove. We could get a fire going in a couple of minutes.

Why? Blacky said, Is there anything special we have to do here?

Luis looked around. No. Not particularly. I just wanted to see it again…now that he's gone. He opened Billy's trunk, and saw there were still many items of clothing in there. It also looked as if it had once been more full of clothes, as if strangers had visited and found some old clothing to their liking. Oh wow, Blacky said, picking up an old shirt. He brought it to his face and smelled it. Smell like an old trunk? Johnny said with a grin. No. It smells like old Billy, Blacky said, grinning back. It's a good smell.

Johnny nodded and looked around. He saw the refrigerator, opened it. Hey, there's still some stuff in here, he laughed. They all laughed as Johnny presented a small plate with some brown substance on it. Anyone for spam? he said. He opened the door and tossed it. All right, varmints, he said, come and get it, if you can handle it.

Luis fished through the entire trunk, finding only clothes and a couple of small candles. And one other item. He lifted it out carefully and held it up.

Billy's pipe, Blacky said with a grin. Luis handed it to him. Blacky smelled the bowl, smiled at the aroma, then stuck it between his teeth. Hey, Johnny said, you look old and wise. Well, old anyway. The wisdom'll have to wait a few years. He laughed. Blacky handed the pipe to Luis. You want to keep it?

Luis handled the pipe briefly, sniffed it, smiled. Then handed it back to Blacky. It's yours, if you want it.

Don't you?

Luis shook his head. No. It reminds me too much of...other things. You keep it.

Blacky nodded. All right.

What's going to happen to this place? Johnny asked.

Luis shrugged. I think Billy left the place to me. I, in turn, will leave it to Blacky. He clapped a hand on Blacky's shoulder. Blacky grinned. Hey, why not? I like that idea. Now I have a place on the res like all the other Navajos. Cool.

Better get a lock on the place, Johnny said, or eventually you might not have any trunk to store your pipe. Or anything else.

Blacky nodded. I'll make a note of that.

Blacky and Johnny went outside. Johnny lit up a cigarette. Luis stayed behind and took in a view of the Hogan again. Though someone had lifted some of old Billy's clothes, Luis felt certain that the Hogan was safe enough until they returned with a lock. He stared at the space and remembered the last conversations he had with his father, when he had read Billy the journal of Annie Weston, not so long ago. He felt a pang of sorrow at old Billy's passing, and some at knowing that Billy would probably be missed far more by others than himself. For brief moments he took in every square inch of the place, seeing Billy sit in his rocking chair, drinking his whiskey, smoking his pipe, cooking something on his hot plate stove. Luis smiled.

"Goodbye, Billy. Ya Ta Hey."

#

3

The Campground

As Long As We Get There…

During the middle of the afternoon they pulled into a small campground area. Other campers were there, two tents and one small Winebago Motorhome. The Winnebago belonged to Hank Nez. He came out of the rear door as they entered the lot. He was a short stocky Navajo man with weathered nut-brown skin and long braids which hung down from beneath a straw hat, well past his shoulders. Blacky bounded from the vehicle before Luis had stopped. Hank! Ya Ta hey! They embraced each other heartily. Ya Ta hey! Hello young Blackfeather! Hank said with a wide grin. He laughed heartily. It is good to see you again.

I'm really glad to see you too. How can I begin to tell you what has happened?

Hank's face turned serious momentarily. I know some of what has happened. The spirit of your grandfather came to me in a dream. He told me the Arizos are not at rest, that chaos threatens the native nations and whites alike. That was enough for me to come running.

Luis came walking over with some hesitation, Johnny following behind him. Hank, Blacky said, I don't think you ever met my father.

Hello, Hank, Luis said, Joseph had said many good things about you. They shook hands. Hank gave him a wide grin which closed up his eyes into slits as he did so. Young Blackfeather has spoken well of you, and so did your own father, old Billy Two Trees, who is now joined in spirit with his people, with the Dine'.

Thank you. I'm glad to hear that, Luis said with some uneasiness.

Johnny stepped forward, holding out his hand. How y' doin', man. I'm Johnny Hawkins.

Hank gave him a grin also and accepted his hand. Hawkins? Hello Johnny Hawkins. Are you a hawk eye, with the vision of the hawk?

Johnny shrugged. Beats me, man. But I have a good shootin' eye.

Hank laughed. Good! Perhaps we will call you Hawkeye after all, he said. Johnny half laughed and nodded. Meanwhile, Hank said, Why don't you take this campsite next to mine and we'll get us a nice fire goin' and have some home made camp stew.

Luis registered his vehicle and they unpacked and settled in to their site.

In the distance, toward the west, the Mesa loomed dark and ominous. Johnny stretched and stared across the brown desert landscape at the distant mountain surrounded by cliffs and covered with wild juniper trees. Man, he said, It is really hot here.

Don't worry, Blacky said, It'll cool off soon enough when the sun goes down.

Johnny tilted his head in acknowledgement and said, Is that where we're going?

That's our first marker, Luis said, We must start at the southern end and go southwest for about twenty miles.

And that's all? Johnny said.

It's not as easy as it looks, Luis said. There are no roads where we're going. At least there weren't the last time I came this way. We will need horses to get us across the land.

Tomorrow we will get horses and equipment from my friend Lupy, Hank said.

But you said it's been forty years since you were here, Johnny said, Maybe there's a road going there by now.

Luis shook his head. Where we are going is not seen on the map. I assure you, there are no roads to take us there.

Then we'll use horses, Blacky said, As long as we get there.

Yes, Luis said quietly, as long as we get there.

#

4

Hank Nez

Life is Like An Onion…

Hank made a stew for dinner and a pot of coffee. Blacky and Johnny made a fire and they all sat around it, eating silently. They were all aware that each of them had lost someone close, and none of them felt like talking any more than he had to. There were still too many unknowns. They were on their way to attempt to complete recent events, events that had started, Luis pondered, forty years ago. But there was no guarantee that what they were doing would complete anything. Luis was not even sure that they would find the canyon.

Blacky was very somber. He thought of Twilight, and he stared into the fire with sad, angry longing, as if he might bring her back by sheer force of will alone. The food tasted good but he had little appetite; his gut was ridden with angst. His every thought swirled around her, and he wondered where she had gone, and if she was still alive. This had been his mounting concern since her disappearance and he felt he could not rest until he found her.

Hank noticed the look in his eyes. What troubles you, my young friend? he said. Is it a woman? Blacky looked at him with astonishment. How did you know?

Hank had a gleam in his eye. When you get to be my age, Blacky, you learn to see in many people what they all think is hidden. Remember your grandfather's story of the onion?

Luis turned his head at this. Blacky squinted, trying to smile, shaking his head. He finally laughed. No...I don't.

I remember, Luis said, He said life is like an onion, and the more you try to peel it or chop it up into little pieces the more it brings tears to your eyes.

That's right! Hank laughed, The essence of the onion is not in the innermost layer, but in all the layers, even the outer skin which doesn't taste so good, eh? Isn't that what you and I have been learning these past two years? He gave Blacky a slap on the leg, and Blacky began to cheer up. Of course! Hank said. He gave a huge laugh that made his belly shake. It was so contagious it made the others laugh too. Then when the laughter died down Hank became more serious. Now...to some business. Each of you must tell me everything that is on your mind. You must all tell me your concerns if we are all to ride into battle together. We must be well prepared. No one has ever fought the ghost riders before, at least not that I know of. This will be a glorious battle, a first for all of us. He looked at Blacky. Joseph! Will you start?

Blacky looked up at Hank's smiling gaze. Start where?

Tell me of the events that have happened, leading up to this moment, in your own words. And then the others will do likewise. He gave a quick nod to punctuate his statement.

All right, Hank, Blacky said, Sure, I'll go first...

Hank poured some more coffee; Johnny did the same. Hank lit a pipe and smoked, Johnny lit a cigarette. Luis sat back contemplatively, with some uneasiness. Blacky stared into the fire to collect his thoughts, and then began to tell Hank the events of the last couple of weeks since he had last seen him...

Well, Blacky began, "I guess it all started really with the trip I made to Colorado Springs to visit Pop, and also to see some musicians I used to know, including Johnny here. Anyway, me and Johnny went to this country bar named Lindy’s Roadhouse, basically a biker bar. Johnny’s band, the Manitou Rangers, were trying to get hired to play there, and I planned to ride out there