Tomahawk Life Force

By Jeff Barnhart

This book starts in the late eighteen hundreds following a family through various trials as they grow and learn. Tomahawk Life Force mainly deals with a ghostly presence that is created in the business end of a tomahawk. Through decades of horror and torment the descendants of the family eventually collide which reveals: Only a true spirit can create true horror.

The novel has twists and turns that will shock as well as surprise the reader leading to a unique conclusion.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 7, 2012
• ISBN: 9781479750771

Jeff Barnhart

This is the third novel I’ve written and have more novels in the development stages. Writing a novel is a long and trying endeavor and one has to stick with it to make it work. I’m working full time as an author and the writing process is one of the most thrilling and exciting things I’ve done in my life. I’ve graduated from the London School of Journalism majoring in thriller writing. In addition I have a Bachelor of Applied Science Degree in CAD Technology.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Bonestown History

We all die at our own preordained time, for some though, death isn’t permanent. In the spring of eighteen-hundred-and-sixty a town by the name of Bonestown began in the northern section of Arizona. Human bones were found in a valley about one hundred miles to the north of Phoenix. That would be the meager beginning of this town. Charles Street, his wife Jasmine, their two boys as well as Charles brother came upon this site as they traveled from the old states to the west. After reaching this site Charles and Jasmine climbed down from their wagon while their two children jumped off and scampered over to a pile of bones. When they came up close to the skeletal remains Jasmine exclaimed, "Oh how awful! There must have been a massacre here years ago. Either that or this is some sort of bone cemetery without headstones or the caring act of burying the dead.

Look over there! It looks as though there are torn clothes between those bones, said Jasmine. Yes dear, replied Charles, it appears it turned out to be a bad experience for the people around here, and maybe they didn’t have anyone left to do the burying. The people that lived here must have fought like crazy to save themselves. But there are bones here that may be Indians. They must have been attacking the settlers. See, over by that stump, looks like an Indian chief’s headset. I can’t say for sure but those dime novels I’ve been reading have the same kind of headset drawn on the pages.

What happened here pa? asked Jared, their oldest son, while picking up a small bone.

Son, I don’t really know other than there must have been a fight here and when they were done they’d wiped each other out.

Daddy I’m sacred, said Kamile, their second child.

"Don’t worry sweetie. These are just bones, they can’t hurt you.

Charles I don’t like it here," said Jasmine as she walked around the bone valley.

Let’s just get back on the wagon and get out of here!

Yeah Charlie, I think Jasmine is right, said Aero, Charles brother.

Charles had been scouring the land around the bones He’d discovered an amazing valley. A stream echoed it’s touching of submerged rocks as it meandered through the valley just to the right side of where Charles had seen what he thought was an Indian chiefs headset. It’s damn gorgeous around here don’t you think Jasmine? C’mon Charles let’s get out of here; it’s spooky. I don’t like it! said Jasmine as she kicked a bone away from her path to Charles. Stop it Jasmine! Were staying right here. Were going to build a family here! Who knows, in time, other people may decide to settle here. Over yonder is a stream and beyond that a forest. I reckon that food would be plentiful all we have to do is build a home.

"Charles, what about the children? They need schooling and there isn’t anything here except those… those damn bones. And, what do we do with them if we do stay?

I don’t want to fight with you Jasmine! I say what we do, and we’re staying right here!

Charlie, don’t I have any say in this? said Aero as he walked over to Charles.

"I’m gonna have to live here too if we stay and how are we gonna survive? Jasmine is right! There isn’t anything here for us.

All of you stop complaining! Aero don’t get so upset! I’ve taken care of us from the old states to here and we’ve done fine haven’t we?

Yeah… I guess so, said Jasmine. Aero reluctantly agreed with both of them.

Then fine! We’re staying here! I want no more talk of this you here?

Yeah… we hear, said Aero as he walked away ashamed that he didn’t have the guts to stand up to his older brother.

Hey pa, what’s this? yelled Jared from a corner of the bone-covered valley. Charles walked over to Jared as he picked a small wooden handle device with a stone-carved sharp edge attached to one side of it. Charles knew the edge had been sharpened because in examining it he ran his finger over the edge, thereby creating a tiny gash in his flesh. Damn Charles, what did you find? About this time Aero arrived taking the device from Charles.

Well I’ll be damned… huh I’d never thought I’d see something like this, exclaimed Aero.

What… what is it? You know what it is Aero? asked Charles while trying to stop the blood running from the smooth cut the sharpened stone had made in his finger.

"It’s a Tomahawk! I read about it in one of those dime novels you carry with you Charlie.

It said that Indians use these to get scalps from white men. Guess that’s what it’s used for here… huh? Sure looks interesting. I wonder how they got this edge so sharp?

Give me that! yelled Charles. Yeah it does look well made. I doubt any Indians are gonna use this now, so I’ll keep it. I can use it to help cut and trim some of these bones.

What? said Jasmine as she joined Charles.

Oh… this… tomahawk, I’m gonna keep it to use to cut and trim those bones for our new house.

Are you kidding Charles? exclaimed Jasmine while she contemplated whether Charles was really serious about such a ridiculous idea.

No I’m not, replied Charles. "I thought that these bones would be stronger than wood.

And although there may not be enough of them to build a house, we could use what we could besides the rest of the house would be made of wood. That way we don’t have to cut a lot of trees. And you know I’m not good at cutting down trees."

Damn it! . . . Damn it… Charles Street! What kind of man are you? Using dead peoples bones to build our house… that’s… just crazy, and you know it!

What else would you have me do Jasmine? We don’t have a lot of tools that can be used for cutting. We have one axe that isn’t in great shape. We need something sharp enough to cut down trees. This tomahawk looks pretty strong, at least strong enough to cut these bones. Then we can maybe use the tomahawk to sharpen the axe. That’s a lot easier than chopping a tree with a dull axe don’t you think?

"You’re not making any sense Charles! I don’t like it here! There’s something… something strange about this land, this valley. It gives me chills.

Don’t pay any mind to those chills. You’ve gotten them before and you’ll probably get them again. We are staying here and that’s it! No more discussion on that!

Jasmine stormed away from Charles, Jared and Aero running back to the wagon. Jared gave Charles a look reminiscent of disgust and frustration. Charles told Jared to go help his mother get things out of the wagon and arrange an area where they could camp for the night. Charles stood gazing at the tomahawk almost as if it held him in some kind of trance. This didn’t last long. His attention quickly turned toward a rustling in the woods nearby. Thoughts curved to that of food for dinner. Realizing that the tomahawk could also be used as a hunting implement, he set out to find sustenance for his family. Moments later he found himself surrounded by evergreen trees as well as the smell of a forest freshly cleaned from a recent rain. It smelt good plus for a short time he forgot about the rest of his family, their concern about him and their survival in this unforgiving land. Now, at this time, his thoughts were only of the beauty of the forest in addition to what it could provide in terms of food along with shelter. Soon afterward his walk had taken him to a brighter portion of the forest. Nothing he’d seen in his life compared to what he saw in this field. It spread out for about a mile and filled the air with abundant images of flowers and trees so large that the tops of them couldn’t been seen with the naked eye. Charles knew that this would be the place to build a home. But, he had a problem; he had walked so far into the woods that the sight of his family and the bones failed him. Nothing could be heard but the wind tumbling through the branches. Also nothing could be seen but this field, the trees, and flowers that had made their home here. Fear set in and he began to tremble. Something wet penetrated the lining of his well-used boots. The rain made the ground wet which meant it would hold fresh tracks, my tracks. All I have to do is follow my footprints back to Jasmine and the family. Why the hell didn’t I think of that before now—stupid!

Charles started his trek back through the woods into the valley where the bones of the dead would greet him. As he walked, stepping in the depressions that he’d made earlier, he felt bitter shivers through his body. Almost like someone threw needles or pins at him managing to penetrate his skin and bone, then exit out the back of his body. This made his walk less efficient as he stopped repeatedly to see if he could warm himself up by rubbing his hands up and down his arms and legs. That didn’t help. Next he thought that maybe running while trying not to lose track of his footprints might help. It wasn’t one of his better idea’s, it just made the shivers more prominent and icy. Charles stopped after walking including running about one hundred feet then sat on a large rock. He gazed around the forest and saw what appeared to be a white ranch house off to the right of his current position. From what he could see, which wasn’t a lot, the house seemed to be empty. It looked as though it were in fairly good shape. But, it wasn’t constructed of wood. Huh… that’s interesting. Maybe we won’t have to build a house after all. Charles stood up turned to face the house as he walked by tree after tree until he reached the structure. It was indeed a ranch house, although it had been abandoned for quite a while. But the site of the house close up seemed to elicit more fear in the easterner than seeing the valley of bones. Gingerly he walked up to within a foot or two of the north wall of the house and almost lost what little was left in his stomach. An odd white house stood in front of him. A white house made from bones, human bones. Shaking feverishly he stepped carefully to the front. The front door hung on by one hinge plus almost all of the windows were broken. And from the looks of it broken from the inside out. That’s… that’s… odd, said Charles while stumbling over rocks with loose wood from a nearby woodpile, as he walked around the house to see if anything else had been damaged. He turned the corner and discovered graves. He thought about digging up the graves to study the bones but wondered if whoever buried those people were here watching him. His curiosity got the better of him and he dug the dirt from the graves. He expected to find bones rotten with age instead he found skeletons that looked like they were recently buried. Brushing away some mud that stuck on the skeletons, he exposed just how bright they were. It was almost like someone had cleaned the bones before burying them.

That frightened him more than anything else. It meant that the people that died must have been killed or died somewhere else then the bones were brought here. He looked up around as best he could in the dim light and didn’t see or feel anyone nearby, so he kept examining his discovery. Charles could tell that two sets of bones were about the same in height, while two others were a good deal smaller. They hadn’t been developed as much as the others. One odd thing though, he discovered that the skulls of what he thought were the older skeletons weren’t attached to the rest of their skeletal remains.

Damn! What happened around here? First that valley of bones and now I find these bones of a family. Damn Sam what’s going on here?

Shivers came forth, cold and wet. While Charles walked back to the front of the house he stopped about ten feet from the front door in order to take a closer look at the north wall. His training at the Clarkston School of Anatomy in New York had paid off. He stared at the construction realizing that the second set of bones happened to be humeri or upper leg bones. The subordinate set of bones, consisted of the tibia and fibula, the lower leg bones. This ranch house, if constructed all the way to the roof with bones, would mean that maybe whoever killed those people wanted a house of souvenirs. Charles gazed down to the end of the wall amazed that someone could have done this in addition to making it work. He theorized that some gruesome minded people must have lived here. Charles marveled at how expertly the bones had been attached to each other with some kind of sticky substance and began to wonder how this feat could have been accomplished. He’d never heard or seen anything like this. His body, still quivering from the cold, resembled someone trying desperately to stay warm on a cold night. Even though is subconscious told him not to go in, he ventured inside the house to see if he could find out what happened to the family. Upon entering the house he smelt something putrid which turned his stomach into a quivering mass. He didn’t know what could be causing that stench but he wanted to find out. In looking around what appeared to be the living room Charles saw dolls on the floor including to a smattering of one doll’s head all over the multi-colored throw rug opposite a warn dirty couch. There were glasses filled halfway on a table nearby. Charles went over, picked one up, sniffed it and dropped it on the scuffed wooden floor as he grabbed at his neck.

He stumbled over to the couch and fell onto its soft dusty cushions. Damn it! What the hell is that stuff? he mumbled as he turned over facing toward the ceiling. Coughing with hacking seemed to be the norm for about a minute or so then faded slowly away. Air, he needed air badly so he crawled to one of the broken windows, took a deep breath and fell to the floor trying to regain his composure. Charles stumbled and walked toward what he assumed was the bedroom. He’d seen what he thought would be a light from that room and wanted to see if anyone was there. Grabbing the doorknob he began to turn it—it wouldn’t budge. Knocking on the door didn’t help. No one answered. A sigh of relief came over Charles as he turned away from the door and walked to the other side (south side) of the house, as he did he noticed that the glasses were gone as shivers of fear took hold. Another closed door faced him only this time the putrid smell he’d encountered when he walked in grew stronger. He knew it came from beyond this door. As he reached down to turn the knob again he felt his mind returning to normal plus a small amount of strength. This time the door opened. Charles had discovered a corpse. It had been a woman around sixty years old Charles calculated that age based on her wrinkles and frail body. Charles began examining the body of the woman, even though her smell filled the room. He looked for gunshot or knife wounds or something that would account for her being dead. After the examination he concluded that she must have died from fright. Her eyes were wide open with her hands outstretched above her, as if trying to stop whoever had attacked her.

A loud crackling noise came from the roof. Charles was knocked back on his rump as the crackling became louder and the walls of the house started to shake. Pitter-patter on the roof echoed through the house. Now he knew that the noise was thunder with rain and started out of the bedroom toward the unused fireplace. He crawled into the fire bay of the fireplace and waited for the storm to pass. It appeared to be a big storm. The remainder of the windows began to shake and crack, leaving remnants on the wooden floor. Soon afterward the brunt of the storm hit. Charles was sure that at any time the walls and roof would come crashing down. Charles never liked thunderstorms or rain. His folks were killed in a tornado that touched down in Oklahoma when he was a young boy. Ever since then he’s been deathly afraid of thunder and rain. Shivering, cold with a large crack in the ceiling right above him, Charles started to feel the rain buffet him. It’s a good thing that no one was here; otherwise he would have to explain why he hid in a fireplace instead of running back to camp to be with his family. Eventually the storm disintegrated into a light rain barely visible by the human eye. Charles tenderly stepped out into a partially water-filled living room and looked up at the crack in the ceiling. That’ll be my first job in this place, after we take care of that old lady and get her smell out of here, he said as he stood up. Part of the ceiling besides the roof that fell down during the storm now floated on the water as if being pushed or guided by an unseen hand. Charles kicked the materials out of his way as he walked back to the bedroom where the woman he’d discovered would surely be waiting for someone to take care of her. When the tormented man stepped into the bedroom again surprise took control of his face. The whole bedroom had been torn apart. The woman that he’d found earlier no longer inhabited the room—no trace of her. He frantically sorted through the wreckage trying to find anything or any part of the woman. His efforts were uneventful. That’s downright impossible! he shouted as he threw torn pieces of wood around the room. She’s got to be here, she has to be! After numerous trips including falls in the water that covered floor he finally gave up his search.

With his pants torn and his ego diminished, Charles walked back toward the front door, which kept slamming against the side of the doorframe. He pushed the door aside allowing him to walk out onto the wooden porch. The porch had been pummeled by the storm. Very few boards were left. Just enough so that he could jump from board to board to get to the side of the house. After that he’d have to take a small jump onto the ground below. Before he made his first jump to another board a strange sense came over him, something like when you know someone’s behind you before they say or do anything. He quickly turned around and found nothing. Hell! What in tarnation is going on here? No matter how much he fought the feeling it still persisted. It drove him back to the bedroom where what he couldn’t find before floated aimlessly in front of him. Things were markedly different. The dead woman came back, well at least part of her. Charles saw a partially skin covered vertebral column plus skin enveloped the lower portion of a skull, her skull, that lay floating in the water nearby. There were sharp cuts in the skull. The kind of cuts one would see if an Indian had scalped the woman as she resisted that act of terror. As he examined the rest of the woman’s body parts he heard what sounded like a shelf collapsing onto the floor. He turned to the sound noticing another skull, but not a human skull. Charles quirkily walked over to the skull. After examining it thoroughly he surmised that it must be a dog’s skull. However, if that were the case, this dog had been dead for quite a while—no skin was on the skull plus it had been cleaned.

Now Charles wanted to examine the rest of the dog’s skeletal remains for any evidence that it might have died before its time but couldn’t find any other bones. A severe chill traveled through his body as he realized that the sun had crept lower in the sky soon darkness would cover everything. He knew that Jasmine and the rest of the family, if they hadn’t already, would be looking for him and he didn’t want them to find him in what’s left of this room studying bones of a dead woman along with a dead dog. Jasmine thought Charles wasted his time studying the human body with the classes he’d taken in medical science at the school. She never really thought that he had the intelligence or aptitude to become a doctor. They had many a fight over just what Charles should do with his life. This trip to the west originally had been Jasmine’s idea. The only way she got Charles to make the trip is to get Aero to come along with them. Charles always got along fairly well with Aero, but the two brothers did have their disagreements and lately Charles had been thinking that Aero was a little more interested in Jasmine than just as a friend. But now he’ll probably have both of them looking for him. He didn’t want that, he wanted to control the situation. Charles got up, hid all the bones, as best he could, in a chest-of-drawers that sat in the living room and headed out of the house again—this time no feeling of another presence invited itself into his conscious. While jumping from board to board to get off the porch he wondered why he hid the bones. No one would think that he did something to them-in fact no one would know he had been here. What would happen if he’d just left them where he found them? He thought for a minute or two as he jumped onto the cold ground near the edge of the house then realized that if Jasmine had seen those bones the first thing she would have thought would be that he had spent all this time looking at them instead of helping his family get settled-she would not be happy. About this time a subdued rustling cracking noise came from behind the house. Not knowing this area and after having gone through seeing the dead woman’s bones plus the skull of the dog Charles debated going behind the house to investigate. The bones behind the house somehow beckoned to Charles.

There is an old saying, Curiosity killed the cat. Charles wondered if that fate would lie in wait for him. Cracking and rustling continued but seemed to get louder even though Charles hadn’t moved from his spot. The woods that surrounded the house seemed more ominous soon all that would be visible would be the trees closest to the house then Charles would have to spend the night here. A thought he didn’t want to consider. Trying to find his way back in a pitch black forest is not something that evoked joyful emotions. Chills and apprehension filled his soul as his conscious mind debated which path to take: investigating the noises or heading back to his family. Now his family had become more important to him than his present task. The woods were quiet, aside from the noises that shook him. There were no birds, no sounds of wind roaming through the branches of the trees moreover no sounds of water. Oh Shit! Now what have I gotten myself into? he said as he walked, quietly as he could, toward the rear of the house. His rotund body might make more noise as he walked, and his weight, being that of someone not used to work and of a person who heartedly enjoyed food, may hamper his fighting abilities, but curiosity pushed him forward. His hands were shaking beyond control as he looked for any kind of weapon he could use to thwart whatever made those noises. Moonlight allowed some things to be visible, but not much, the moon hadn’t fully awakened and only part of her became visible, but only if one looked very long and hard at the sky. Crackle, crackle echoed through his ears as he approached the location. Sounds had been emanating from the harrowed sky but luckily Charles happened to see a pile of chopped wood. He waddled over and fell to his knees. Bending over isn’t as easy as it should have been so he depended on his knees as a strut to support him while grabbing a piece of wood he could carry easily, hoping all the while that if there were somebody behind the house that he didn’t startle them. But most of all that they or if it were just one person he or she didn’t have a gun and decide to use it on him.

Slowly he crept up alongside the boney house hoping that he’d be able to see whoever was back there before they saw him. His wishes didn’t come to fruition. Just as he was about to peek around the corner of the house he stepped on a twig thereby announcing his presence loud and clear. Shit! Damn it! he said softly under his breath. Now he had to act fast, just in case… well just in case. Turning the corner nothing notable appeared other than the skeleton’s he’d found earlier. This time though he knew where the noises were coming from. It was hard to see, but on a hill just opposite the house sat a shed. A few branches from a nearby tree were brushing up against the door. Again Charles’ conscious began talking to him as his curiosity escalated. Do I go up there and see what’s in that shed, or do I leave well enough alone and head back to Jasmine and the others?

Curiosity won. He headed up the hill as the night turned to a shade of darkness almost completely void of anything resembling color. Treading clumsily up the hill, he reached the front door of the shed. Charles sat down near some pieces of wood stacked next to the front door to essentially catch the small gasps of air that shot in and out of his throat. Even though the hill wasn’t steep, it was just a little too steep for him. He quickly bent the branches downward that had been making the noises and pulled at the door. It creaked and moaned as a woman of the night might when she’d experienced a pleasurable encounter with one of her gents. Finally after what seemed like the struggle to end all struggles, the door opened as Charles caught a glimpse of something shiny and large to the right side of the shed. He looked around and happened to find a lamp plus matches nearby that had been saved from the wet weather by the wood housing of the shed. He fumbled at lighting the lamp eventually succeeding. The rotund figure turned back around and saw the thing that had shone so brightly a few seconds earlier. Charles almost fell backwards at the sight of it. He walked gingerly toward it. A marvelous vehicle stood in front of him, shiny black with windows all around. There were two lamps, one on each side of where the driver sat. He moved the lamp he’d found downward. The light from the lamp revealed four wheels, two smaller ones in front, and two that were double the size of the front wheels in the back. Charles swung the lamp he held toward the glass panes that surrounded the back half of what appeared to be a horse drawn carriage. Amazing! Absolutely amazing! he said, as he walked around the carriage as best he could without knocking over bunches of hay on the ground. I never thought I’d actually see one out here. We’ve got a lot of these in New York, but they are much fancier only the rich can afford to have their last trip in one. No ordinary person could afford such luxury, but here one sits. Obviously used by the common folk around here to carry their loved one’s to their final resting place. Wait, what’s this? Charles rubbed off some dust off the bottom of the carriage and read what had been painted on the frame, Johnson and son Undertakers. This is so fantastic! No one would believe that I actually saw a hearse common folk of this area use—and it looks like it’s in apple pie order! As Charles examined his newly found treasure he heard more noises coming from just outside the shed. This time he knew it had to be the sound of footprints and someone either listening to him or watching him. A small breeze from Charles’ mouth blew out the lamp. He hid at the horse end of the hearse and waited for whomever it was to come inside. Patience wasn’t a virtue that Charles had developed yet and didn’t have to wait long to see who made the noise. The front door creaked and rattled as it opened. Charles couldn’t see anything more than an outline of a figure, but it clearly identified what type of person this was. An Indian—damn it! said Charles, under his breath. The silhouette of a headdress and what looked like a tomahawk in his hand also by the smell, led Charles to believe an Indian walked in. It smelled as though this Indian hadn’t had a good bath in weeks. But Charles shouldn’t judge him he himself didn’t smell all that great either. The shadowy figure walked over to the left side of the shed up the left wall to opposite Charles. A sound of someone sniffing perked his ears. Could that Indian smell me? That’s impossible, he thought, until he pulled part of his shirt up to his nose. Whew! I think I need a bath more than that Indian! said Charles as he moved toward the rear of the coach.

Charles didn’t want to fight an Indian, especially since he was out-of-shape knowing full well that an Indian could take him easily then all that’d be left of him was his scalped, dead body He wasn’t ready to die, not now or anytime in the near future. The front door hung close by but the sound of that door opening would be deadly if he tried to open it. Time went quickly. Getting away from that Indian had to be a priority right now. The shadowy figure walked along the back wall, sometimes disappearing in the darkness as what little moonlight shown down from above came seeping through the gaps between the wooden sides of the shed. The Indian now stood in front of the hearse, Charles heard him run into it as he tried to maneuver through the half-moonlit shed. If Charles could understand the Indian language he was sure he would have heard him say something like, Oh… Shit! But deciphering the figure’s language would have to be something left to someone else. Right now, escape took over Charles thoughts as well as actions. There was only one way to get out of the shed, through the front door, but the Indian came closer, much closer. Charles could smell him as he approached, and knew that if he could smell him, the Indian could smell Charles. Moonlight seemed to follow the Indian as if it were his shadow. Now the Indian stood about ten feet away. Something had to be done and quick, or the next thing he’d feel would be his head being pulled back then his hair being chopped off along with part of his skin. Shivers of fear slipped down through Charles body as he gained the strength to move. How fast he could move plus how quickly he could make himself invisible to the figure stalking him depended on how much noise he made, especially when he tried to open the door. It had to be done or he’d be dead in a matter of minutes, maybe seconds as the smell of the Indian became stronger the closer he got to Charles.

Then, just as Charles was about to make his move the Indian stopped as if frozen by fear. It appeared to Charles that he was somehow turned off, if indeed that were possible. Now’s my chance, thought Charles as he sloppily got to his feet running as fast as he could toward the front door. He tried unlatching it; apparently the Indian had latched it behind him when he came in. Charles easily slides the wooden bar to one side and looked back at the black figure—it hadn’t moved. He started to push the door, but it wouldn’t open. Charles tried it again more violently this time, still nothing happened. Then it donned on him, something must be blocking the door on the outside. Before Charles had time to guess as to what besides how that could have happened he felt his hair being cut as a breeze ruffled past his head. Charles turned around feeling something warm easing down from the top of his head: first small droplets would shuffle down his forehead, over his nose and mouth and hang onto his chin as a mountain climber might do if he found himself hanging on the edge of a rock faced precipice. Seconds later came a gushing of fluid from his head, over his forehead, eyes, nose and mouth, just as Charles felt a stinging sensation in his chest plus that same warm fluid run out of the wound. He looked down gazing at a tomahawk blade partially impaled in his chest, with the handle still wiggling as Charles dropped to the hay-covered floor. Footsteps came from behind him. The Indian came around to the front of Charles, bent down and said, You will be cursed through eternity for disturbing those bones. This is Indian land and you desecrated it. The Indian got up and dissolved into the air, as Charles began to close his eyes for the last time.

Night continued to grow while Charles body began to drop in temperature as the coldness of the mountain air traveled through him. An hour later the front door to the shed opened. Four

Indians came in and walked over to Charles. One of them went to the hearse and opened the back door, then went back to help the other three load Charles into the wooden body carriage. After they completed their task they started a fire about four feet away from the coach formed a circle around it as they chanted. This went on for forty-five minutes until the walls of the shed began to shake. Immediately after that an image began to appear on the seat of the coach. The horses appeared if by magic. They were alive and well, but were also transparent. In addition to the horses, the driver of the coach seemed to be very much alive and transparent. He looked at the Indians as if to say, Where to as the Indians chanted in unison. Soon afterward the driver gave the horses the command to move. Slowly the hearse began moving disappearing through the back wall of the shed as smooth as a knife through butter. The Indian’s stopped chanting, put out the fire and walked out of the shed, just as the hearse re-appeared exactly as Charles had found it, ready and waiting for it’s next passenger to arrive.

Chapter 2

Bonestown History, Jasmine and Aero

Charles! shouted Jasmine, as she and Aero started walking through the forest at the point where she thought she saw Charles enter. A few minutes later they found themselves near a stream. The sound of water running over rocks was unmistakable. Charlie where the hell are you? shouted Aero, while he helped Jasmine to the stream. Aero had brought a lantern, lit before they entered the forest, so knowing where to guide Jasmine was as easy as could be expected under the circumstances.

Damn it! Aero, where is Charles? This isn’t like him! He doesn’t just run off and not tell me where he’s going! Ah… and these damn shoes aren’t made for walking over rocks in a river bed.

Watch those rocks. said Aero, as if asking for the check at the local dry goods store.

Huh… no problem Aero, the last thing I need is to fall in this creek and mess up these pants. There the only ones I have left. If these get torn I’ll have to start wearing one of the dresses I packed away that won’t do… not at all!

Don’t worry Jasmine, you’ll do fine. Were almost across. It won’t be long before we find Charlie and all will be good with the world again… you’ll see… it’ll be bright as a trivet… just you wait.

I hope so Aero. I don’t like it here. I’m sure any minute we’ll be attacked by Indians and you’ll be scalped, and me… heavens knows what they’ll do to me. You know a white woman in Indian country. My lord the possibilities are frightening!

Nothing to worry about Jasmine I have Jenibell here with me, she’ll take care of any trouble we may have. As he said these words he pulled out a pearl-handled gun from his holster and brought it into Jasmine’s field of view.

That’s fine for you Aero, but what happens if you get killed before you have time to use Jenibell, what happens to me?

Don’t worry Jasmine, look were past the river and coming upon a clearing. I’m sure Charlie is somewhere around here.

And what about our children? asked Jasmine, in a voice reminiscent of a child asking why she couldn’t cross the street.

I didn’t want to leave them back there in the wagon. I certainly didn’t want them to come with us. My Lord what if something happens to them while we’re gone. I’d never forgive myself. Maybe we should head back. I don’t like being this far away from them.

Like I said Jasmine, don’t worry. Look the sun is about to rise. Before you know it we’ll be able to find Charlie, and the three of us will be back at the wagon in no time. Like I said, you’ll see… you’ll see… just trust me… I’ll get all of us out of here safe and sound… no problem at all.

I hope your right. I just want our family together. And believe you me when I find Charles I’m going to tell him off so much that he won’t be able to talk to me for months!

That’s it Jasmine. Think of Charlie and being together again. It will happen.

The morning sun had risen just above the horizon line and Jasmine and Aero could feel its warmth as though they were sitting in front of a fireplace on a cold winter night. They walked into the clearing that Charles had seen before. Both had a strange feeling, but couldn’t figure out which direction to take.

Do you feel that? asked Jasmine.

Yes… it feels like Charlie is here somewhere, but that’s not right. How could that be, when we can’t see him? said Aero "I don’t know, but its almost as though he’s touching me somehow, like he were standing right here beside me… I feel his presence… it’s very strong. Am I imagining this?

Strange things can happen in the woods. I think we should head back, maybe Charlie is back at the wagon by now.

We can’t just leave… we haven’t found him and I know he’s here… I know it!

He may be Jasmine, but with the new day starting along with your kids back in the wagon, you never know what might happen. Remember we saw what looked like something the Indians left behind in the bone yard. Those Indians are still around here somewhere Maybe… God forbid… they’ll come back here. I wouldn’t want to be away from shelter stuck out here if they should come back.

"I know you’re right Aero, but we need to find out what happened to Charles! I can’t go back and face the children without being able to tell them that we found their father.

After all, I did tell them that we were going to get him and that we’d be back soon. And I thought you wanted to find Charles just as much as I do."

Aero thought about what Jasmine said as he looked at the clearing and then turned around toward the woods that they’d come from.

But Jasmine,’ he asked, I know I told you that we should leave, but can you leave without knowing what happened to Charlie? He could be hurt and need help. I don’t really want to stay around this place any longer than I have to, but all-in-all he still is my brother and I’m willing to take a chance and spend some time looking for him…