CHAPTER FOUR WOUNDED KNEE #2
“Why don’t you try and relax,” she said. “You’ll give yourself an ulcer at this rate. We’ll figure it out. For now, just put it out of your mind.”
“I’ll try,” Greyeagle said. “How are the boys?”
“They’re fine,” Sarah said. “They wanted to know if they could go catch frogs with the Mohawk Twins. I told them to be careful.”
“They shouldn’t wander too far,” Greyeagle said, tensing. “The Makhótaneo’o could be out there.”
“I doubt they know where we are,” Sarah said. “Also, the creek is twenty yards from the campers. We can be there in seconds, if they need us.”
Greyeagle frowned but said nothing.
“Besides,” Sarah said, “let them wear themselves out so they’ll sleep. They’ve got more energy than the rest of us combined.”
Greyeagle chuckled.
“They take after their mother,” Greyeagle said, tickling her.
“Maybe,” she replied, squirming to get away from the tickling, “but they’ve got their father’s mischievous streak.”
By eleven o’clock, they were all turning in for the night. The boys were spending the night in Jay Matoskah’s cabin again. Greyeagle and Sarah slipped into their bedroom and closed the door. After they enjoyed their alone time, they fell asleep together, with Sarah draped languidly across him.
Greyeagle awoke just after three. Years of military and law enforcement discipline had taught him to wake up whenever he needed to.
Sarah called it his internal alarm clock.
He slipped out of bed, got dressed quietly, and crept out of the trailer.
He’d moved slowly and cautiously, careful to avoid waking anyone up.
Once he reached his car, the white 1969 Dodge Charger he’d had for years, he climbed in and got ready to fire up the engine.
He knew most of the Hotamétaneo’o would know the instant the starter engaged.
But if he moved quickly, he’d be long gone before anyone could stop him. He’d explain when he got back.
He fired up the big engine and put it in reverse. He didn’t let the engine warm up like he usually did. He didn’t have time. He spun around and headed down the gravel road as fast as he dared go. Before he reached the end of the road, he could see lights coming on in his rearview mirror.
He figured either Sarah or Mika would be dialing his number right now, but they’d be in for a surprise when it rang on the table beside the bed. He’d left it there on purpose. One, he didn’t want to explain until he was finished, and two, they couldn’t track him without the phone.
Once he was on the highway, he knew that they couldn’t follow him.
By the time any of them made it to a vehicle, they’d have no idea which direction he’d gone.
Before they could search both directions, he’d be finished and on his way back.
At least, he hoped he would. He also hoped he’d be bringing Kade back with him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “but I had to do this alone.”
He pushed the accelerator down hard and sped off into the night, putting miles between himself and their camp.
He turned off on a secondary road, then made another left a few miles further, then got back on course.
He pulled into the dirt parking lot at the Wounded Knee Memorial at four minutes to four.
His headlights played across the empty lot, revealing one lone vehicle parked at the far end.
It was a big, well-equipped road bike. It was an Indian Chief PowerPlus Dark Horse in flat black with a backrest for a passenger.
This was no ordinary bike. It was beautifully sleek and designed to perform like a predator on the open road, much like Greyeagle’s own bike.
As Greyeagle parked, he noted the license plate. It was a Montana plate, and he quickly memorized the number. As he climbed out of the Charger, he could smell the heat from the engine. He could also smell the heat from the bike. It hadn’t been here very long.
“Kade,” he thought. “At least he’s got good taste in bikes.”
Greyeagle glanced around but didn’t see anyone.
It was still over an hour to sunrise, but he wasn’t in the mood to wait.
Instead, he headed off toward the memorial.
He walked under the arched entryway and into the area where the graves were.
Some were surrounded by chain-link, but others sat just off the path.
He kept walking and passed by the red sign with white lettering that told the story of the massacre.
Greyeagle didn’t need to read it. He knew the story well.
Moments later, he came to the memorial itself.
A simple granite obelisk bearing the names of everyone killed that cold December morning in 1890.
Greyeagle felt the heavy sadness of the place.
The deep sense of loss and pain. He also felt the underlying rage of his people that this travesty could’ve ever happened in the first place.
Part of him wanted to embrace that rage.
To lash out at those responsible for this, but everyone involved had been dead for almost a hundred years.
Lashing out now solved nothing. In fact, it could make things worse for their people.
“You feel it too, don’t you, brother?” asked Kade from the shadows.
Greyeagle didn’t react. He’d sensed his approach but felt no threat from it.
“I feel it as strongly today as I did that morning when we were boys,” Greyeagle replied.
“I hoped you might,” Kade said, stepping up next to him.
Greyeagle noticed that despite the years apart, they still looked so much alike.
Kade’s hair was longer, but they both wore it in the traditional style.
Kade wore mostly denim and leather, but around his neck was a hair pipe choker with silver and turquoise beads in the center and what looked like bear claws hanging from the lowest strand.
He also wore silver earrings with beads and feathers attached.
“You came alone,” Kade said.
An observation, not a question.
“I did,” Greyeagle replied. “Did you?”
“You tell me, brother,” Kade said, smiling.
Greyeagle let his senses shift, allowing Old Wolf to enhance them. He sniffed the air and let his other senses range out into the darkness.
“No, you didn’t,” Greyeagle said.
“Good,” Kade replied, grinning. “I’m impressed. Not many can detect us when we don’t want to be.”
“So, the motorcycle was a distraction,” Greyeagle said.
“Not at all,” Kade answered. “I did ride it here. The others were just for, shall we say, insurance.”
“And now that you know I’m alone?” Greyeagle asked, frowning.
“Well, I don’t think I have anything to fear from you,” Kade said.
A woman slipped out of the darkness to stand next to Kade. Greyeagle could tell she was Native American, but she wasn’t Lakota. From her features, he guessed she was from one of the Southwestern tribes. Apache, maybe.
“Who’s this?” asked Greyeagle.
“William Greyeagle,” Kade said, “this is Raven Long Shadow. Raven, my brother Will.”
“Charmed,” she said flatly, not bothering to reach out to shake his hand.
“Come now, dear,” Kade said. “This is my brother. Please show a little more respect.”
“Why?” she asked, glancing up at Kade.
Kade shifted and moved in a fraction of a second. His face contorted into the fury of a beast, and he snarled at her.
“DO NOT QUESTION ME, WOMAN!” he snarled.
She immediately cowered back and lowered her head in submission.
“I’m sorry,” she said meekly, looking down at the ground.
Greyeagle was stunned at the sudden fury of the change. He also felt the power radiate from Kade. Whatever the source of his strength, even Old Wolf took notice. Greyeagle fought the urge to shift in defense. Then, as rapidly as it appeared, Kade was back to normal.
“Now, let’s try that again,” Kade said. “Raven, this is my brother, William Greyeagle.”
“It… It’s my pleasure to meet you,” she said timidly.
“Are you Apache?” asked Greyeagle, trying to ask her something that might help smooth over the situation.
“My mother was Apache,” she said. “My father is Navajo.”
Greyeagle noted the tone of the words. Her mother must be dead. And from the derision she put into the word, she clearly had no love for her father.
“Now, leave us,” Kade said. “Tell the others to return home. I’ll meet you all back there later.”
Raven nodded and slipped back into the darkness. Greyeagle stood there quietly for a few moments before he felt the presence of the others fade away.
“Now, we can talk without interruption,” Kade said, smiling once more.
Greyeagle felt the shift in Kade. The dark presence was still there, but it had faded back into the background. Whatever it was, it had a deep hold on Kade.
“How long have you been one of the Makhótaneo’o?” asked Greyeagle.
Kade’s smile froze and slowly vanished.
“I see grandfather has been talking out of school,” Kade said. “There was a time when people feared to say that name. Perhaps they need a reminder of why.”
“Why would you want our people afraid of you?” asked Greyeagle.
Kade seemed genuinely confused by the question. He cocked his head back and forth for a moment before answering.
“Why wouldn’t you want them to fear you?” Kade said. “I mean, that’s the law of the pack. Leaders lead through strength and fear. If the pack doesn’t fear you, then they’ll turn on you.”
“Mine won’t,” Greyeagle replied.
“Oh, just give them a chance,” Kade said, shaking his head. “You can only trust those that you control. And even then, only so far.”
“What a dark and lonely life you must lead,” Greyeagle replied.
For a moment, Greyeagle felt the beast within him stir, but Kade fought it back down.
“It beats being a naive fool,” Kade retorted. “Content to fight battles while others pull your strings. What was it that Roman poet once said? Let them hate, so long as they fear.”
“Lucius Accius,” Greyeagle said. “He also said that a man can dignify his rank. No rank can dignify a man.”
“Maybe so,” Kade said. “But I’d rather rule in hell than serve in heaven.”