Fist of Fire

By Mike Marshall

The legend and curse of a long-forgotten Native American god, Fist of Fire, is revived when a remote cave containing previously undiscovered cave drawings, artifacts, and bones is suddenly unsealed during a violent thunder storm near where retired police officers Ben Franks and Charlie Bird are camping. With the help of local Native American experts, the legend is revealed. And when anthropologist Dr. Helen Wilson arrives to examine the remains, Ben unexpectedly finds that he is not too old to fall in love again. But not everyone has the site’s best interest in mind. Dr. Stanley Burns, jealous at not being chosen to lead the archaeological discovery, tries to sabotage the project and turn the spotlight on himself. Instead, he incurs the wrath of Fist of Fire.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike Marshall
• Release date: Apr 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463414514

Mike Marshall

Now who is this Mike Marshall? A pirate, a pauper, never a king–although I did have a queen–a cowboy, a cop, a pilot, a race car driver, a calluses-on-my-shoulder-blades auto and aircraft mechanic, a down hill skier, a bicycle tourist, a blacksmith, a florist, and a retail store owner. My highest points were as a dad, a grandpa, and a great grandpa. My best gig was for 43 years staying married to my best friend and business partner, a fantastic-looking blonde honey, show-stopping ballroom dance partner and mother of my children. And now at 88, I'm an aspiring writer.

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Fist of Fire

By

Mike Marshall

Copyright 2019 by Mike Marshall

Published by C. F. Calderone at Smashwords.com

Cover Image by Oliver Spalt

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rinjani_1994.jpg

CC-BY-2.0

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Also by Mike Marshall, and published at Smashwords:

Me ’n Norman

I Win

A Horse Named Alice

North Star

(Sequel to A Horse Named Alice)

I’m a Man, Damn It!

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

About Mike Marshall

Prologue

I especially enjoy adventure love stories for older couples. Perhaps aged from mid to late sixties, they meet and find themselves attracted to each other. Then after a short period of Nah, I’m too old for that old doll, or that old dude, they find this not to be true. They just have survived life. Yes, old, but certainly not dead.

Then there is that off chance of simultaneously looking deeply into each others’ eyes, and it seems that you are looking into this other person’s soul.

Can you remember the first time you were walking with a special person that made your body and mind react in this strange and wonderful way? Remember that first time you were walking together? She was holding your right hand in her left, and she gripped your upper right arm and pulled you closer. Your arm brushed against her breast. An accident? Not on your life. This was a carefully planned and carried out maneuver to set the hook in this man that wanted to be hooked.

Now, let’s get to Ben and Charlie. A police officer seldom gets closer to another human than the person who was, or is, your patrol-car partner, and that is true in this case. Charlie and Ben burned out ahead of schedule. Charlie had a heart attack after twenty-two years, and Ben retired after twenty-five years. Even though they were retired they stayed in contact by taking an annual wilderness horseback trip into the high, back country of eastern Oregon. Charlie and Ben had spent so much time together that they could, and often did, finish each others’ sentences.

On one of their annual trips they discover a lava cave that had been naturally sealed for eons containing, what appears to be, ancient artifacts. Knowing that this could be an important find, they contact the archaeological department of the local university. Two professors, Dr. Helen Wilson—who catches Ben’s eye from the start—and Dr. George Swift, are the first on the scene to verify the find.

Enter Dr. Stanley Burns. Dr. Burns is the green-eyed monster in this story. Dr. Burns is beside himself with jealousy because he wasn’t chosen to lead this archaeological discovery. He sets out to disrupt the project and turn the spotlight on himself. Instead, he incurs the wrath of Fist of Fire.

Chapter 1

When men find that their life has taken them to the afternoon side of the mountain, there are two things they treasure more than almost any other: old friends and old memories.

Charlie Bird and Ben Franks were retired police from the San Francisco Bay Area. These old friends had been patrol-car partners for more than fifteen years.

Both Ben and Charlie retired from the Alameda County Sheriff’s Department. Charlie had a heart attack and took an early retirement. He now lives in a small town on the eastern slopes of Mount Lassen in northern California.

Ben put in his twenty-five years, and upon retirement he and his wife moved to northern California and bought a small business. The years took their toll on the health of both Ben and his wife, and they retired a second time and moved to central Oregon.

Despite physical problems, advancing years, and a constant battle with waistlines, both men had maintained themselves in better-than-average physical condition. Since his heart attack, Charlie had walked never less than a mile each day no matter what the weather. Until Ben lost his wife he had been a dedicated downhill skier and bicycle rider, and while not as dedicated as his wife, he did play a lot of tennis. In both cases these two men had never let their waist measurement exceed their chest.

Each year they took a week by themselves to go by horseback into the wilderness area of eastern Oregon or northern California. In the beginning both of their wives went with them, but Ben’s wife passed away, and Charlie’s wife preferred to spend the time with their grandchildren. Now Ben and Charlie just enjoyed their quiet friendship and the serenity of the forest.

This year on the first morning on the trail they had not discussed where they were going. The only plans were when they would leave and when they would get back.

They had been riding for several hours without speaking. They had been friends for so many years they could finish each others’ sentences. Ben pushed his hat back and looked at the sky, Look at those clouds off to the west there. And he settled back into silence. A few minutes later he sighed and squirmed around in his saddle to ease his backside, Well, hell. We could camp by that old mine we found a couple of years ago.

Charlie called back over his shoulder, We should have names for the places like that. We could say let’s camp at the Old Codger mine.

Ben heeled his horse forward, and when he was at Charlie’s side he grunted, My kids are getting to be such a pain in the ass. Do you know what they made me bring along?

Charlie put his right hand behind his head and tilted his hat forward, Harumph.

Robin made me bring a cell phone.

Charlie turned his head a little and repeated his most common answer, Harumph.

Ben reined his horse to a halt and stepped down, I got to pee.

When Charlie’s horse stopped he stepped down, and Ben reined his horse around to a stop then stepped down a few feet away, Did they figure we were going to call for a pizza delivery?

They walked their horses for a few minutes and then climbed back into the saddle and rode on in silence.

The sun was well into the western sky as they rode down a slight incline. On the right was a lava flow some forty- to sixty-feet high and about a quarter-mile wide. On the left side was a slight hill and a dense pine forest.

The mine site they were looking for was near the end of the lava flow. This ugly mound of jumbled chaos was from a volcanic vent about a mile back making a dramatic contrast of devastation faced by an almost park-like ponderosa forest. The forest partially hid the mouth of the abandoned mine. Rotted timbers had allowed the mine to fall in years and years ago.

Ben stepped down and tied his horse to a tree. He rubbed his backside with both hands and stretched his legs.

Their favorite camping spot was on a level area about a quarter mile from the end of the finger of lava. The mine was slightly downhill from the campsite. From one side of what had been the mouth of the tunnel there was a fair trickle of fresh water.

Without comment Charlie stepped down and took a coil of rope off the packsaddle of their mule. He walked to a young ponderosa and tied off one end of the rope and tied the other end to another stunted tree. He looked at Charlie and laughed, I figured I had better set this horse line before you did.

Ben began to untie the load from the mule, I’ll bet you’ve told that damn story a zillion time about me tying the horses uphill from our camp, and then when the horses peed, it all ran downhill into our camp.

Charlie laughed, You’ve got to admit that was pretty funny.

Charlie stopped suddenly and looked all around, Do you smell that?

Smell what?

Ben picked up another down and dead branch, You do that every year.

Do what?

You say ‘do you smell that?’ and then I’m supposed to ask ‘Smell what?’ and you say that funny smell, and I have to tell you that it’s fresh air. It was funny as hell the first hundred times.

It was an hour or more before either spoke again.

Ben had been staring off across the canyon when all of a sudden he sat upright. His binoculars had been in their case next to him. He picked them up and looked again, Well, I’ll be damned. How many years have we been coming by this spot?

Too many to admit to, why?

He handed the binoculars to Charlie, See that little scrub pine trying to survive up on the flow? He pointed across the canyon, Right there below that big black chunk of lava.

Charlie took the glasses and studied the hillside, You’re right. I’ve never noticed it before, it looks like a cave.

Well it’s for sure been there. But I can tell you why we’ve never been there.

Ben laughed lightly, Because it would be a really rough climb, that’s why.

Charlie grunted and went to the stack of camping gear and picked up a folding chair, Every time I sit on the ground I swear I’ll never do it again. It’s too hard to get up.

Ben groaned and hauled himself to his feet, We might as well figure out what we’re going to have for dinner.

The sun was well past the western mountaintops and the blue of evening was filling the canyons when they had their camp all set and finished dinner. The as-yet-not-mentioned bottle of Marker’s Mark whiskey miraculously appeared, as it did every year.

Charlie had found his plastic glass and held it out; The only time each year that my wife doesn’t raise hell with me for drinking is when I come out here with you.

Ben poured a small amount in his glass, Well, be thankful. Now that my wife has passed, I have to put up with my kids preaching to me about drinking too much. The truth is, Janice never nagged, but I miss her making me promise that I’d take it easy.

Now, don’t get all misty on me now. Charlie leaned over and helped himself to a little more. Charlie turned his head away because he knew that his old partner would be embarrassed if he knew Charlie had seen his tears.

Although four and a half years had passed, he knew that Ben was still in mourning. What would you say to seeing if we can find a trail into that cave? Hell, it might not even be a cave. It could just be an opening between rocks.

When they rolled out their sleeping bags that night Charlie asked, Have you ever read very much about the Indians up here before the white men came along?

Ben was hauling the ice chests up in a tree, well out of the reach of any bears that might come visiting. When he finished he settled in his chair and folded his hands in his lap, I just finished another book about the Modoc and the Klamath Indian wars. They seemed to want to kill off each other more than they did the white man. Last year my kids gave me a great book about the Paiutes, Shoshones, and Snakes.

Charlie agreed, I really like that kind of history. You could spend a lifetime reading the legends and folklore. There is one story that tells about a trade route from Mexico to the Columbia and how almost every area had something that other areas wanted or needed. The trade went on pretty well until the Europeans came on the scene.

Ben poured a little more whiskey into his glass and added a splash of water, I like the ghost and spirit stories best. He rolled the glass between his hands and looked down into the whiskey, And we brought some of the best spirits with us.

They were both quiet for several minutes before Ben spoke again, Look at those clouds up there to the west.

It kind of looks like we are going to get us a little storm sometime tonight. We better stack some more rock around the base of the tent and dig a little trench around the uphill side to carry off any water that might come down from above.

Before they settled down for the night they were treated to an outstanding light display. The lightning was mostly cloud-to-cloud, but there were several strikes right on top of the mountains next to them. The strikes sounded like artillery shells.

When the first few rain drops fell Charlie folded his chair and retired into the tent, Okay, old partner, I believe that’s the signal to go to bed.

Once settled on his cot Ben began, When we get back I’ll loan you the book about ghosts of the Blue Mountains. There is one really neat story about this ghost that manifests itself during lightning storms and with one fist smashes the rocks. It’s called the Fist of Fire. There must be twenty or thirty stories about mysterious visions and happenings that are unexplained.

Both men were willing to call it a day. They had left home shortly after daylight that morning and had ridden their horses for more than three hours before reaching their campsite. Their sleep was disturbed several times through the night when there were crashes of lightning so close that they could smell the ozone odor of the expended electrical energy. The rain that fell came in short but heavy showers.

At one time during the night there was a strike so close it shook the earth. Sometime in the middle of the night there was a lightning flash and a crash of thunder that were simultaneous. The smell of the electric ozone was stronger than either of them had ever smelled before.

Both men sat bolt upright. Ben muttered, Good lord, that was close!

Ben crawled to the door of the tent so that her could see the horses and the mule, Those critters are pretty upset. I hope we don’t get another like that.

Charlie settled back, When you smell that ozone like that, you know it was close. Maybe someone is trying to tell us something. After a few minutes they relaxed and listened to the storm as the lightning and thunder moved off to the east and the livestock settled down.

In the morning when they crawled out of their tent they were surprised that there was so little dampness on the ground. Ben dug at the surface with the toe of his boot, This ground is like a sponge.

He then went about opening their camp stove while Charlie lowered the ice chest to get out sausage and eggs.

With breakfast finished and everything put away, Ben unfolded his chair and settled back with his coffee, Well, what do you think?

About what?

About climbing up to that cave.

I was thinking about that, Charlie mused. If we walk around to the south side and come down from above, it looks like easier going.

Ben wondered about how long this trek would take, When we come down it might be a little warm. Maybe we better put up the sun shade before we go.

The climb was just what they expected: a lot harder than it looked. When at last they lowered themselves to a place where they could see into the darkness created by the black lava over hang, they were both disappointed. It wasn’t a cave at all.

Charlie pulled back to find a convenient place to sit, Whose idea was this anyway?

Ben took a long drink from his canteen, Let’s not go back the same way. Let’s go on around this hill a little farther just to see what’s there.

Charlie stood and followed Ben’s line of sight, I guess there isn’t any easy way to get down. Let’s do it.

They cautiously worked across the rough and jagged lava for another hundred yards. Ben stopped and put up his hand, Hold it. Look at that! This is where that lightning hit last night.

Just ahead they could see where there had been a recent lightning strike. There was still the smell of ozone, and a large boulder of lava rock had been blasted by the strike and rolled back away from the mountainside. They carefully eased forward. Ben cautioned, We better make sure that that big, old rock isn’t going to roll any farther.

As they got close to the disturbed boulder they could see that it was the end of a lava flow that had come down over some native boulders and ended when the lava touched the older native rock that they stood on. It had covered the entrance to a cave until the bolt of lightning had dislodged it.

Ben stepped into the opening and murmured, Good God all mighty.

Charlie stepped to his side and took a flashlight from his day-pack. The cave was so deep that with their flashlight they could not see the back wall. The floor was level and clear. The wall of the right side was covered with petroglyphs. Most of the figures were done in black, probably some kind of charcoal paint. Only a few had white highlights, and in a few places there were splashes of bright red. The wall on the left had figures that were in single-file groups of fifteen or twenty.

Being careful of where he stepped, Charlie moved closer to inspect the figures, I can understand the black and white but what could they have used to make a red that would maintain its color integrity all these years?

Ben knelt down on one knee to look at the images on the wall, Do you know what I think? I think this cave was inhabited right up until the day the mountain erupted. I’ll bet the people that lived here ran out when the eruption started and were killed by falling rock or the gasses.

Charlie stepped back to the opening and sat on a piece of rock, Do you have any idea how long ago that was?

I didn’t know that that were people living in this area that long ago, probably more than a thousand or more years. After a long pause he whispered, Do you suppose it is all right if we look at all the stuff in here?

Charlie stood and walked toward the back of the cave, "More than that,