The Serpent and the Crow

Book 2: Chapter Nine

Douglas peered out of the Helicopter, remembering when he was last in one. The night Rosa was hospitalized, and the Killer took Halonie.

He looked at the pilot and Hank. Douglas turned to study Cortez loading up. She looked like she had done this plenty of times. Douglas looked out at the sea of Ponderosa Pines and thought how impossible it would be to find anything out there.

He wondered how many other potential sky-burials were in the woods that no one discovered. Dale had said that the killer had an entire cemetery of children and had a quota to make. What number was he trying to reach? Would he ever stop? Why?

Cortez gestured to Douglas to put on the headset, and he did.

She said, "We're going to get her back, I promise."

"How can you trust Bolivar? He has done a lot of evil on both sides of the state lines."

"The intel is good. I know because that's our job?"

"Your job?"

"Kidnapping. We would extract people being kidnapped in South America, all over. We specialised in it, Jador, Bolivar, and Me."

"How many kids did you save?"

"Plenty."

"How many did you not save?"

Hank spoke over the headsets, "Easy, Chief. We're going to get your daughter back."

"This is the third day," Douglas said, "You know, like I do that the first forty-eight hours is important."

"Horse shit, you never had old Hank on the case."

Cortez said, "Jador and I extracted a seventeen-year-old diplomat deep in a Panama jungle. A local Cartel held her. They demanded over four million dollars. She stayed alive for thirty-nine days."

"All due respect, Cortez. My daughter is six years old, and her captor doesn't want money. He wants her dead."

Hank and Cortez got the picture. It was an unsaid agreement to leave Douglas alone for the rest of the ride.

It was an odd part of Arizona. It was unusual for so much land to be unoccupied or even have road access, which is probably why so many criminals operated in it. Money was in these mountain ranges, and he knew the killer wanted none of it. At least, that is what he felt.

The pilot said, "Redfern is coming up, three minutes. Saddle up, Detectives."

The helicopter flew over the peak, and down below in a steep ravine was a large mansion. It looked like it was in terrible shape from the air, crumbling from the overgrowth that had reclaimed it. It was like a foreign object in a circulatory system of crime long passed into history. It didn't belong, and nature acted like any immune system. It tried to devour it.

It made Douglas think of the money and the sheer feat of bringing each brick and mortar all the way from Cold Cut Colorado when helicopters didn't exist. It would've taken an immense amount of workforce and resources, since there were no roads.

Douglas knew Redfern was haunted. At least it was in Cold Cut. Douglas felt that removing evil from one place does not change what is evil. He believed there was a balance to everything but then if Solemn was so bad then where was the balance there? Perhaps they were there to check evil and bring balance.

Douglas knew the local Navajo regarded the area, even before Redfern was moved there, to be a place to be feared. It was an ancient burial site, and even the Navajo were unfamiliar with the people that lived there. The natives dared not disturb the area.

Douglas was not Navajo, but even as a Crow, he respected the land and respected the Navajo, at least with warnings. You would be a fool not to heed their advice. However, if it meant he had to be a fool to save his daughter, then a fool he must be.

It didn't occur to Douglas that they were hovering, and Cortez was already halfway down to the ground.

"You're up, Old friend," said Hank.

Douglas stood on the edge of the helicopter, attached to a line. He repelled down and hit the ground hard. Cortez dragged him away as the helicopter flew away.

"That was some fall, Nez. You okay?"

"Yeah, I pulled on the cord a little late."

"You okay to carry on?"

Douglas nodded. There was no turning back now. Douglas saw a murder of crows perching on every branch that swayed from the helicopter, pulling away.

"What is it?"

"Most birds scatter. The helicopter should've..."

"I see what you mean. Fucking creepy."

The crows seemed unaffected, their gaze fixed upon their position as if they were spying for some unnamed adversary. The last time he saw so many crows were at Katie Harding's crime scene. It wasn't a good sign, or omen, to what was to come.