Chapter One

"Mmm, something smells good." Scott Tracy joined his brothers John and Gordon in the spacious kitchen at the Tracy villa. He inhaled deeply, a look of pleasure on his face. "Let me guess-spice cookies, right Grandma?"

"Right you are, Scott," his grandparent answered. 'But don't you be getting ideas-- any of you," she added with affectionate sternness, turning to face John and Gordon, who were laughing and exchanging winks at the table, where they were just starting breakfast. "These are for tonight-no samples ahead of time."

"Aw, c'mon, Grandma-" Scott widened his blue eyes at her. "You know how much I love your spice cookies-best in the whole world-"

"Or at least in the Southern hemisphere," Gordon chimed in with a cheeky grin.

Scott shot him a narrow eyed look. "Quiet, you-"

John grinned at his oldest brother over the rim of his NASA mug. "It won't work, Scott. Gord-o and I already tried that 'your cookies are the best ever' routine and Grandma still said no."

"In fact," Gordon added, poking his fork into his pile of hash browns. "She even threatened to put a padlock on the oven. Or to sic Kyrano on us-"

John chuckled and rolled his eyes. Their Malaysian friend might be quiet and unassuming, but he could be a veritable bull dog if anyone disrupted his routine in the kitchen.

"Okay, I give-" Laughing, Scott held up his hands, palms out, in a gesture of surrender. "No cookies till tonight, Grandma, okay? While we're telling ghost stories and drinking that wonderful mulled cider you always make-"

His renewed attempt at flattery didn't even phase his grandparent, who was occupied with sliding another tray of the rich dark cookies into the oven. She then turned abruptly from the stove and pointed her wooden spoon at Scott, her blue eyes narrowed. "No cookies till tonight." When Gordon made a soft snort of laughter, she pointed the kitchen implement at him. "All of you-"

"Ooops." Gordon quickly turned his attention to the heaping plate in front of him.

"Right, Grandma." Scott moved quickly away from the oven and the wire rack where several dozen of the wonderful smelling cookies were already cooling.

Grinning, John sliced his wheat bagel in two, began to spread it with cream cheese. His oldest brother may be a former decorated Air Force pilot, field commander of International Rescue and the brother he and his other siblings often dubbed "Dad, junior," but with a few stern words, a look and that wooden spoon, their grandmother could easily reduce him to a small boy again. Now, if we could figure out how she does that-

"Morning, all." Virgil shuffled into the kitchen, his dark brown hair sticking out at several impossible angles. He grabbed a mug and headed for the coffee maker.

"Yow! What a scary costume, Virgil!" Gordon teased around a mouthful of eggs. "You'll be the hit of tonight's party!"

"Ha Ha," Virgil intoned ironically. He slid his mug into place and pressed the dispenser switch. "You know, Gordon, you have a good chance of going to tonight's party as a ghost. A real live one. "He shot Gordon a look that would've curdled milk.

"That's where you're wrong, bro," the aquanaut shot back. "Ghosts aren't alive-they're dead-"

He was about to say more when John interrupted him, "Um- Virg-you might want to pay attention to what you're doing-"

"What?" Vigil blinked, then looked at his coffee mug and groaned. A thin stream of steaming brown liquid ran down the side of the cup, pooled on the counter and was dripping onto the immaculate tiled floor. "Oh-great-" He hastily shut off the dispenser and dumped about 1/3 of the contents of his overfull mug in the sink.

"Virgil Tracy! You're making a mess!" Grandma cried, turning from her mixing bowl.

"Sorry, Grandma. "Virgil sounded and looked contrite. "Guess I'm not awake yet-"

"Now that's an understatement," Scott muttered. Virgil shot him a dark look as he grabbed a towel and began to blot up the spilled coffee.

"Virgil-not with the good towels-" their grandmother admonished. "For Pete's sake, get a rag or something-"

"Sorry," Virgil said again.

John hastily picked up his own coffee and bagel and beat a tactful retreat out onto the patio. At the rate things were going, he figured their grandmother would soon shoo them all out of the kitchen anyway. So he settled himself in a wooden chair and sat back to enjoy the warm morning air, the feel of the gentle breeze ruffling his hair.

Sure enough, Scott and Gordon joined him a few minutes later, Gordon still carrying his plate of food.

"Virgil's cleaning up his mess," the aquanaut explained carelessly, plopping into a chair beside John and nearly dumping the contents of his plate in the process.

John looked up at Scott, who stared out across the white beach, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Hey, Scott-what's up? Still trying to decide what costume to wear tonight?"

"He could come as himself-that'd be scary enough," Gordon quipped.

"Actually," their oldest brother said slowly, without turning. "I was thinking about which ghost story I'm going to tell tonight. I thought I might tell the one about the younger brother who didn't know when to stop clowning and who ended up dying a horrible and painful death, finally coming back as a ghost doomed to haunt this island forever-"

Scott's voice grew steadily deeper and louder as he said this, his blue eyes widening. John started to laugh but Gordon just made a face and went back to shoveling food into his mouth.

"Heard it!" He sipped his orange juice. "You'll have to do better than that, Scott, if you want to win-"

"Oh, and I suppose you're going to tell one of those ridiculous pirate ghost stories you always dredge up," Scott shot back, his voice returning to normal now. "They're so lame-"

"You ought to know-" Gordon replied.

Listening to their banter, John wondered which story he was going to tell. The Halloween ghost story "contest" had been a tradition in their family since they were boys back in Kansas, when their father used to turn all the lights off, light the jack o'lantern ,and they'd take turns telling spooky stories until midnight. I remember I always used to have trouble sleeping after those story sessions, he thought, shaking his head. I'd sit up all night and read or look at the stars until the sun came up-and dad used to get so mad 'cause I'd be half asleep for school the next day-

Now, the tradition had evolved into a good natured "contest" which featured all of the brothers telling stories, each trying to outdo the other. The judges were their father, Brains, Tin-Tin, Kyrano and Grandma, and the contest always featured a "prize," which usually involved the losers doing chores for the winner.

So if I won, does that mean Scott would have to take a shift in TB 5? John thought in amusement. That'd be worth seeing!

"-story you're going to tell, John?" Gordon's question pulled him back to reality. "Another alien abduction tale?" The aquanaut grinned. "Like that could really ever happen-"

"Well, it's more likely than your pirate ghost stories are."

"You're both going to lose," Scott intervened. "Because I have the best story of all in mind-it's so scary you'll all be shaking in your shoes till morning-"

"Does it involve angry grandmothers?' Virgil asked, stepping out onto the patio just then. "Scarier than any ghost I've ever seen-"

His brothers all burst into laughter and Scott said, "Well, if you wouldn't try complicated tasks until you're awake-"

Virgil drew breath for a reply, but before he could get any sound out, the alarm klaxon began to sound, and their father's voice boomed over the intercom, "Everyone to the lounge immediately."

The brothers headed inside at a dead run, Gordon still carrying his plate of food, their debate forgotten for the moment.

Chapter Two

"ETA, danger zone 4.5 minutes," Virgil said into the comm link. "How's it look down there, Scott? How close were you able to land to the fire site?"

John leaned forward, straining to hear, as static crackled from the speakers before finally resolving itself into his oldest brother's brisk tones. "Not all that close, I'm afraid, Virg. That old growth forest is really thick and the fire's in a pretty remote area. And it's spreading fast because of the drought conditions."

"Right-" Virgil broke off as lightning flared across the darkening sky like a white spear. "Looks like the drought's about to end," he muttered, making an adjustment to the controls of TB 2. "Landing in 2 minutes-"

If Scott had a reply, it was lost in the blare of static from the comm speaker. John frowned. There shouldn't be any interference on this frequency-not on the bands we use-and certainly not out here, where there aren't any large cities or airports-

He shifted in his seat and stared out of the vid port in a vain attempt to see any of the details of their surroundings below; everything was shrouded in clouds and the grey blue gloam of approaching nightfall. Once, he thought he spotted a faint flare of orange red light, but it was gone before he could even be certain it was there.

"-something strange about all of this, too, guys," Scott's voice filtered through the static again, pulling at John's attention.

"What's so strange?' Gordon asked, his forehead creased. "Lightning strikes cause fires all the time, especially when it's been so dry-"

"I don't mean that-" Scott replied. "It's just that when I got here, there wasn't anyone here. Usually when we get a call for help, someone's here to meet us for a quick brief."

"Maybe they were just busy," Virgil said over a loud crackle of interference. "If that fire's as bad as Alan described-"

"Maybe-" Again, a burst of interference turned Scott's words to mush. "-but no one seemed to know who had called us The supervisor for the construction site said he didn't, and the tribal elders didn't-"

"Weird." John rubbed the back of his neck where his skin began to tingle. "So if they didn't call us, who did?"

"-not sure-" Scott's voice faded out and silence pulled the air taut in TB 2's cockpit.

Then, Gordon said, uneasily "Well-maybe someone from a neighboring town-"

"-or maybe no one wants to admit they called us-for some reason." Virgil also looked troubled as he began to make the final adjustments to TB 2's flight path prior to landing. "Whatever the reason-we'll just have to be extra careful down there."

"Right, " John said and Gordon nodded.

"Firing vertical jets now," Virgil added.

John felt the familiar tickle in the pit of his stomach as Virgil switched to vertical flight. Again, he leaned closer to the vid port, but he couldn't see very far in any direction; here in North America, night was swiftly falling and the sky around them was heavily shrouded in clouds. As they descended, John noticed that the trees below swayed wildly in a wind that Virgil's skillful control kept them from feeling. Lightning flared groundward again, a brilliant blue white spear of light and both brothers jerked back away from the shatterproof glass, startled.

"Storm's getting worse, "John commented needlessly. "This should be lots of fun."

Virgil made a final adjustment to the controls. "Especially since that wind is likely to fan the flames. Good thing Brains sent along that extra dicetyline-we're going to need it."

Just as he finished speaking, TB 2 settled onto the ground with only the faintest of jolts. Virgil immediately threw the lever that raised the transport on its hydraulics, then unstrapped and turned to face his brothers.

"Okay, let's get the equipment unloaded and see what we're going to be able to use out there."

Lightning continued to flare sporadically across the sky as John, Gordon and Virgil off loaded the Firefly, Fire truck and the extra tanks of dicetyline. At Virgil's suggestion, they brought two hover bikes out as well.

John had just finished bringing out the two hover bikes when the sound of raised voices drew his attention to Mobile Control, where Scott was deep in conversation with three other men, one a white man wearing a flannel shirts and jeans and a hardhat and the other two Native American-one of whom looked naggingly familiar. John moved closer, his curiosity aroused.

"-cannot take that-machine-up there," the one Native American man was saying, pointing at the Fire fly. "It will not make it along the road leading to the construction site-- the road is too narrow." The man gestured at a narrow dirt road that wound away to the east.

"Well isn't there another road leading up there?" Scott asked, impatience edging his voice.

"No-that is the only road-" the man said stiffly. "And even that is too much-"

The white man said angrily, "It's the only road you'd let us build, Dennis. And if the whole forest burns to the ground because of that, it'll be your tribe's fault –"

"Hold it," Scott held up his hands, palms out. "We'll take the fire truck-it should be able to make it along that road-"

"Hey, there-" the other Native American said, making eye contact with John. And John felt a jolt of recognition-he'd met the man before, on several rescues last year. He was Tai Firesky, leader of a national Native American activist group.

"Hey yourself." John nodded in response, then turned his attention to the ongoing discussion around him.

"We got permits to build up there," the white man was saying angrily. "It's public land-it doesn't belong to you-"

"It is a sacred valley," the other Indian-Dennis-shot back. "You have no right-"

"Hold it!" Scott raised his voice. "Can we save the argument? There are people trapped up there, correct?"

"Right." Dennis seemed to make a visible effort to calm himself. "Two of my people who were investigating the site-and two construction workers. It seems the wind blew a tree over and the roof the building caved in, trapping them. Then lightning sparked this fire--" he gestured to the east again. "which has made it impossible to reach them-"

"Not for us," Scott said confidently. "Have you got a map of the area?"

The white man produced a map and Scott bent over it. John edged closer, stopping when Tai touched his shoulder.

"You know, I'm almost be glad for this fire-except that it will destroy the old growth trees."

"You enjoy seeing people hurt?" John scowled.

"No. But the structures they are building in there defile sacred ground. The fires are what they deserve for ignoring the wishes of the people who own this land."

"What about the people who are trapped up there?" John pointed out. "Do they deserve to be hurt as well?" He shook his head. "Maybe what the construction company is doing is wrong-but I can't agree that people should get hurt because of their greed-"

"They are windigo," Tai said, without explaining the strange word. "Whatever happens, they have it coming."

John felt a sharp prickle of worry crawl down his spine as a sudden thought occurred to him. "Is Kendra up there? Is she one of the trapped people?"

Tai only pressed his lips into a thin line and didn't reply.

"John!"

He turned at Scott's call, saw his oldest brother motioning to him. Scott had the map spread out on the console and Virgil and Gordon were already gathered around him. John hurried to his brother's side.

"Okay-" Scott tapped the map with a finger. "Here's what we'll do.."

Chapter Three

"I'm through the fire line here." Gordon's voice echoed in John's earpiece, interspersed with the static that was slowly giving John a headache. "How are you doing?"

The older Tracy brother aimed his portable dicetyline sprayer at a flaming tangle of underbrush and pressed the trigger. The chemical shot from the nozzle in a steady stream and the flames wavered, then died entirely. "I'm through here, too," he answered, looking around as he spoke. The constant wind blew the smoke into tatters, so that it twined among the trees, distorting his vision and playing tricks on him. The steadily deepening gloom didn't help visibility, either-John could just barely make out the bobbing light of the halogen lamp on Gordon's hover bike, about a half mile to his left.

They'd chosen to separate and work back along the fire line towards each other, dousing the flames as they went. Virgil was working the northernmost edge of the fire with the truck, which would also be used to evacuate the people trapped in the construction site. Though what anyone was doing at the site this late was beyond John's ability to guess.

"Good-" Gordon's voice got swallowed up in a renewed mush of interference and John frowned. The interference had persisted, distorting or drowning out Scott's commands from Mobile Control and making it all but impossible to even talk to each other. They'd switched frequencies and tried boosting their signals, but nothing had worked. Sometimes, it got so bad that the only sound in his ear was the shrill squeal and whine of the interference.

A squeal of RF on the frequency made John wince and hold his temples-he longed to rip the earpiece out of his ear, but he managed to resist the impulse. Instead, he waited until the noise faded, then said again, "Uh-Gord-o? You there?"

"Yeah-" Gordon's voice was still badly distorted. "Heading back your way now-" The rest of Gordon's sentence was lost in the static and John held back a sigh. It seemed too much to hope for that the signal would improve.

"FAB," John headed towards his brother. But as he glided back along the fire line John felt a sharp prickling crawl down his back, an uneasy feeling that he was being followed-or watched-or both. He struggled to ignore the feeling, but it grew steadily stronger until finally, he twisted about on the hover bike and looked back the way he'd come.

The feeling was so powerful that he expected to see someone behind him-a tall, shadowy figure approaching from between the trees. So he was almost disappointed to find that the woods behind him was empty. There was nothing there at all.

He shook his head, smiling ruefully. Great, John-now your imagination's really working over time-And he decided not to mention his weird feeling to Gordon-the aquanaut would probably only tease him about it anyhow.

"Hey," Gordon said once they were close enough to talk without the comm link. "Any idea what's causing all that static? I can't hear more than 2 or 3 words of anything you say-"

John gestured helplessly. "Beats me. There shouldn't be that level of RF around here-we're out in the middle of nowhere."

"You're the radio expert and you're stumped? " Gordon whistled. "Must be something really far out then."

John just shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe it's some sort of chemical reaction to something in the environment-like we ran into with the Ocean Pioneer a while back. Hopefully, Brains can figure it out when we get back to base."

"Right. Let's move, then." Gordon turned his hover bike to the north and for a long while, he and John glided towards the construction site in silence, pausing only now and then to douse a few remaining hot spots.

But for John, that sensation of watchfulness persisted, no matter how hard he tried to tell himself it was his imagination. The darkness pressed close about him-even the sharp blue white flares of lightning dimmed, as if the night swallowed up the glare. Several times, he thought he glimpsed something-movement-out of the corner of his eye, though each time he looked, there was nothing close by. Once, he slowed his bike, sure that he heard a sound-a voice calling out in alarm or anger. But when he asked Gordon about it, the aquanaut just shook his head.

"Guess it was the wind." John shrugged.

But he didn't even believe himself.

Finally, a faint yellowish glow showed between the trees ahead and to their left-the construction site. As he steered in that direction, he couldn't help worrying again about Virgil.

"Wonder how Virgil's doing?" Gordon asked as if he were reading John's mind. "Hope he didn't run into any snags-there'd be no way for him to let us know-"

"I'm sure he's fine," John said with a confidence he didn't altogether feel. "Besides if the northern fire line had flared up, we'd be able to see it. Most likely, Virg has the fire doused and the people all rescued, so that there'll be nothing left for us to do when we get there." He grinned tightly. "You know how efficient he is."

Gordon chuckled. "Yeah-beats me why he even bothers to bring us along-"

"He just likes to have someone to boss around."

The brothers both chuckled. Then, they rode in silence while, John wincing as sharp flares of blue white lightning tore apart the darkness. Rain spattered against their faces and the wind tore at their hair

"Storm's getting closer, great!" Gordon grumbled, brushing his damp hair out of his face. "I was hoping it'd hold off till we got out of here."

"Afraid of getting wet?" John teased with a grin. "I thought you were the aquanaut?"

"Yeah, but I like to swim in the water not have it dumped on top of me," Gordon shot back with a cheeky grin.

John just rolled his eyes.

By the time they reached the construction site, the lightning flares had become continual and the thunder's growl made the air vibrate. The brothers activated their belt mounted halogen lamps, panning the beams about as they tried to locate their brother and trapped people.

"Weird." Gordon whistled and the shrill sound echoed strangely in the sudden stillness between claps of thunder. "What in the heck is this place?"

John shrugged. "Not sure-Scott just said it was a construction site of some sort-"

"Beats me what they're building-" Gordon pointed his flash at a tall, cone shaped network of beams. "What is that supposed to be? Paul Bunyan's tipi?"

John grimaced. "Paul Bunyan didn't live in a tipi, Gordon-"

"Well, that's what it looks like," the aquanaut insisted. "But why so large?"

"Beats me-" John began, but then a hint of movement beyond the tipi caught his eye and the beam of his light outlined the familiar form of their brother Virgil.

"Hey, Virg," John greeted his brother. "You okay? I kept trying to raise you, but that interference was so bad-"

"Tell me abut it." Virgil shook his head. "I still can't raise Scott-so I guess we're on our own."

"What about the trapped people?" Gordon asked, "D'you know where they are?"

"Yeah." Virgil led the way towards another structure whose walls were made of stucco or stone. The roof seemed to be partially finished. To John, in the uncertain light, it looked round. "Wind knocked over a tree and it hit the roof and sent it caving in-" Virgil led them round the other side of the structure and now, John could clearly see the shattered timbers of the collapsed roof, as well as the massive tree that lay on top of it all. The impact had also made the curved wall buckle and a pile of debris blocked the door opening. "I was talking to them a minute ago," Virgil added. "Seems a couple were injured, but not too seriously-mainly some sprains and bruises."

"This is the only way in, then?" John panned the beam of his flashlight across the blocked door opening.

"Yeah-no windows or anything." Virgil made an impatient sound. "You'd think they could've thought it out better than this." He sighed, added, "I was about to hook a cable to the fire truck's winch when I saw your lights and figured I could use a some extra hands-"

He broke off as another jagged spear tore the sky apart, this time followed almost immediately by a bone rattling crash of thunder. When the echoes died away, Virgil said, "Hey, Gordon, you want to run up to the fire truck and pull the winch cable down here? It should be long enough to reach this tree-and it's the only way we're going to get it lifted of the roof."

"FAB.' Gordon headed up the slope towards where John now saw the amber running lights of the fire truck shining through the darkness.

"Okay, John give me a hand here." Virgil's voice pulled at his attention again. "We need to brace the tree trunk so you can climb up it and wrap the winch cable around it-"

"Right." The two brothers got busy and soon had the tree trunk well supported. Then, John climbed up with the winch cable, wrapped it around the tree near a network of tightly growing branches, and jumped clear. 'Ready," he told Virgil.

"Right-" Virgil put his head close to one of the openings in the buckled wall and called, "Okay, everyone stand back as far as you can get-we're going to winch up the fallen tree and I don't want anyone hurt if it lets loose."

A chorus of soft voices answered him, their words muffled and indistinct through the wood. As John tested the cable's connection one last time, he couldn't keep his thoughts from wandering to Kendra again. Tai hadn't answered him when he'd asked about her-so was she here? If IMPULSE is somehow involved in what's going on here, then it's likely she is around somewhere. But what if she's trapped in there-if she's hurt-?

"Okay, Gordon!" Virgil called, his voice scattering John's thoughts. "Start the winch."

And with John on one side of the tree and Virgil on the other to steady it, the winch whirred to life, slowly pulling the tree forward and off the collapsed roof. Wood creaked and groaned and hunks of debris from the roof fell inward.

Finally, the tree thudded to the ground and Virgil turned to signal to Gordon with the beam of his flash. John disconnected the winch cable, hurried to the door opening in the buckled wall, finding it still blocked. And so he got busy, with Gordon and Virgil's help, shifting the shattered timbers and loose stones aside until they created an opening large enough to climb through.

As soon as John shone the beam of his light through the opening, cheers and cries of relief came from those inside. John stepped cautiously forward, mindful of the many pieces of stones, and wood still lying about.

"Okay-is everyone all right?" he called into the shadows, which he now saw were cast by several electrical lights mounted on tall stands and-presumably-powered by the same generator as the exterior work lights. In this yellowish glow, John made out the outlines of about a half dozen people gathered at the far end of what looked liked a large round room. Without waiting for an answer, he took a step forward-and his foot met with empty air. Off balance, he stumbled forward, wind milling his arms wildly, and finally managed to regain his balance on what felt like a narrow stone step a good six inches below the level of the ground outside.

"That first step's a dousey," a man's voice said from the darkness.

Feeling foolish, John swung his light so that it pointed at the ground-where he saw a series of small steps leading to the floor of the chamber, about four feet below ground level.

"You okay, John?" Gordon asked behind him.

"Yeah-just be careful of the steps here." John carefully stepped onto the next step, shifting his weight about so as to keep his balance.

Then, abruptly, several things happened at once.

Lightning flared again, so brilliantly that the entire landscape was awash in blue-white glare.

Thunder crashed around them, making the earth vibrate under his feet.

Wind abruptly tore at the trees outside, ripping several smaller limbs free and sending them crashing to the ground near the door.

And the amber floodlights winked out, as if they'd been shut off by a switch.

Shouts of surprise and alarm came from inside the structure. John quickly recovered and panned his light across the cavernous space again. "Everyone okay?" he called.

A chorus of affirmatives greeted him, then a man's harsh voice said, "Okay, so can we get out of here now?"

Another voice said, "Someone's got to help her-she can't walk-"

And a familiar voice said weakly, "John? Is that you?"

He had just enough time to recognize Kendra's voice when Gordon entered the strange room, stumbling once on the stairs. When he'd climbed down to where John stood, the aquanaut said breathlessly, "What the hell was that?" In the dimness, John could see that his brother's auburn hair was tousled from the wind gust, his sash askew and he was out of breath. "And what happened to the lights out there?"

"Maybe the generator ran out of fuel." John shrugged. "Anyhow, we can worry about that later-- right now, we need to concentrate on getting these people out of here."

"Right." Gordon panned his light about the room as he asked, "Okay, how many people do we have here?"

"There's 7 of us," a man said, stepping forward and holding out his hand. "Derek Mason, site supervisor"

"Are you hurt?" Gordon asked, stepping into the circular room now. "Any of you?"

"I'm okay," Derek said, as if that was all that mattered.

Suddenly remembering Kendra calling his name, John looked about the cavernous room. "What about the rest of you?"

"Most of us are fine, " another man replied and John noticed that he wore the flannel shirt, jeans and work boots of a construction worker. "But a couple of us got hit by the edge of the wall-" He stifled a groan and John now noticed the dark gash across his forehead, above his right eye. "And we've got a couple with sprained ankles-or worse-"

Feeling his throat close up, John focused his flashlight beam on two people sprawled on the floor. One was a young man who looked native American, his long hair pulled back in a single pony tail, his dark eyes bright with pain as he hunched into himself, cradling his left arm in his lap. And the other-was Kendra-

"Ken-" John choked back a cry of recognition and started forward towards her. "Let me check you two out," he said, trying to cover his slip and aware of the odd looks the others were giving him. "Gordon, why don't you help the ones who can walk outside so that Virgil can get them up to the truck-that'll be fastest-"

"Right-" Gordon exchanged a significant look with John, then nodded and quickly set to work helping the other trapped people over the piles of shattered boards and collapsed stone towards where Virgil waited outside in the darkness. John silently thanked Gordon for his perceptiveness-his brothers knew of his friendship with the Seneca Indian girl, but it wasn't a relation ship he wanted too many outside the organization to know about.

Thunder boomed again as John crouched beside Kendra and her companion and the walls of the room vibrated with the sound. "You two okay?" he asked. "What happened?"

"We didn't move quite fast enough," Kendra said ruefully and in the glow of his torch, John saw her bitter smile. "And that roof's a heckuva lot heavier than it looks-"

"Typical shoddy work," her companion said harshly and his dark eyes sparked with ill concealed anger. "I'd expect no less from these wasicu grave defilers."

"Loren-" Kendra shot him a narrow eyed look, but before she could say any more, Derek Mason said harshly, "Our construction work is just fine, thank you. And we're not defiling anything-we have a right to build here-"

"You do not own this land," Loren shot back coldly. "I don't care what that piece of paper you carry around says-you have no right to dig here where our ancestors are buried-"

"Buried?" John echoed, frowning. "Is this a burial site then?"

"No," Derek said harshly.

"Yes, " Loren corrected simultaneously. "Long has this valley been sacred to my tribe. We never voted to allow your company to dig here-much less to desecrate the land with this-monstrosity-" With his right hand, he gestured angrily at the strange shaped building around them. "You have no idea what this means-you have no right-"

"It's a free country," Derek shot back. "I can build what I want to-I don't have to ask for your approval-"

"You did not even ask for our permission," Loren flung the words at him. "I do not know how you were able to obtain a permit to build here but it was not with our tribe's knowledge-"

"Loren-" Kendra said again, but her voice was quiet and edged with pain; concerned, John leaned closer.

"Where are you hurt-" he began, but then Gordon's voice echoed through the room.

"Say, folks, why don't we save all of this till we get you to a safe place? That wind's picking up again-we should get everyone out of here before the storm breaks loose-"

"Right-" John looked at Loren, then back at Kendra. "How badly are you hurt-can either of you walk?"

"I can-" Loren said with conviction, struggling to his knees. But when he tried to stand, a gasp of pain escaped him and he sank to his knees, clutching at his left shoulder, his narrow face twisted in pain.

John crouched beside him. "What hurts-your shoulder?" He gently ran his hands along the injured area, then nodded. "Separated shoulder. Try not to move too much unless you have to-it'll only make it worse-" He turned to face Kendra now. "What about you?"

The Seneca girl flashed him a wan smile. "I can't put any weight on my left leg-feels like my knee's pretty banged up--"

John looked up at Gordon. "Where's Virgil--?"

"Here-" Their dark haired brother appeared in the door opening, his face lit eerily from below by the light he was carrying. "Look, the fire truck's full-it's not meant for carrying passenger s. You guys stay put while I run them out to the landing site and I'll bring back a couple stretchers and some more medical supplies-here's the kit from the truck. " He handed a small white box to Gordon.

"Okay, sounds like a plan." John smiled at his brother. "I don't suppose you'd want to stop off for pizza on the way-"

Virgil chuckled, the sound fading as he ducked back outside. "I'll think about it, John."

"Take care!" Gordon called after him.

"You mean I've got to wait here? With those two?" Derek Mason stared down at Loren and Kendra looking rather like a man who's seen a very disgusting insect. "I'm not inured-I should go with the others-"

"Sorry-no room," Gordon told him cheerfully. "But Virg'll be right back and you can get out of here then-unless you'd care to walk- in the dark through the woods-and the rain-"

Derek scowled and stood on the furthest side of the curved room, as far away from the two Native Americans as he could get. Steve shifted about, but otherwise didn't move. Loren had subsided into an angry silence and Kendra's expression was distant, her eyes closed.

"Okay, let's get these injuries taken care of," John said into the heavy silence.

A quick examination of Kendra's knee told him that it was swollen; he could feel fluid built up in the joint. He gently but firmly wrapped a bandage about it give her support, then said, "Just try not to move it too much."

She nodded. Gordon meanwhile bandaged Steve's head wound while John turned to work on Loren. There wasn't much he could do for a separated shoulder, but he managed to fashion an awkward kind of bandage about the young man's chest and upper arm to try and hold the shoulder together. Then everyone sat without speaking in the pale glow of the portable halogen lights and the only sound was the steady hiss of the wind and the occasional growl of thunder.

It was then, in the heavy stillness, that John heard it. A voice calling out words he couldn't quite understand.

He jerked his head up, looked about the room. "Did you hear that?"

Gordon frowned at him. "Hear what?"

John listened to the silence with such concentration that his head began to ache. For a few long minutes, all he heard was the silence and the thumping of his own pulse.

"You're hearing things-" Gordon began, but then the sound came again. This time, there was urgency in the distant voice, though he was still unable to make out exactly where it came from.

"There," he said when the echoes had faded. "Didn't you hear it?"

"Yeah--- but where's it coming from?"

"I didn't hear anything," Derek Mason said with a touch of belligerence. "You must be dreaming-"

"Quiet," Gordon hissed as the voice came again. This time, John could swear it was more than one voice, calling out words that sounded like a cry for help.

"Outside maybe?" Gordon arched an eyebrow at his brother.

"Maybe-" John scrambled to his feet, walked over to the opening in the shattered wall. When he poked his head out into the night air, he realized two things: the air had turned suddenly colder-and it was raining steadily. But the only sounds he heard were the patter of the rain drops on the dried leaves and the steady ssh ssh of the wind.

"Great," Gordon said when John came back into the structure , his blonde hair dripping. "Sure hope it doesn't rain so hard that the fire truck can't get back up that road-"

"He'd better get back," Derek growled. "I'm sure as hell not spending the night in this god forsaken place. Gives me the creeps-"

"It is what you deserve for building on a sacred site," Loren snapped.

"No one told us it was a burial ground," Steve spoke finally, his voice steady, but flat. "How do we know you're not just making that up-"

"Ssh!" John held up a hand again. "Listen!"

The voices came again- two voices, clearly calling out in tones that were filled with urgency. The cries almost sounded like wordless moans of pain or anguish-

And they seemed to come from-

"That way-" John got up and walked into the center of the circular chamber., playing the beam of his light along the floor and far wall. The floor was dirt and somewhat uneven, but he glimpsed what looked like a ledge running along the wall about three feet from the floor. In the center of the floor was a shallow depression like an unfinished pit. "What is this place anyway?" "It's a kiva," the site supervisor said stiffly. "Or it will be, once we finish it."

"Kiva?" Gordon frowned. 'What's that?"

"Pah!" Loren spat off to the side. "Something that wasicu should not be building. It has no place here, not the way you intend to use it-"

John looked down at Kendra, his eyebrows arched.

"A kiva is a place for religious ceremonies," she told him quietly, without opening her eyes. "A round room underground, with a fire it in the center and a hole dug into the earth. The Hopi Indians use it as a place for their most sacred ceremonies-"

"The Hopi?" John frowned, puzzled. "But aren't they one of the southwestern tribes?"

" Exactly," Loren said, sarcastically. "Which is why it is tantamount to sacrilege to build a kiva here. The Lenape did not use kivas. Besides, this kiva will be used for tourists-"

"There's no law against that," Derek began, but then John quit listening as the voices came again. Now, he was certain they were cries for help, and they came from-

"Over there-" Gordon said what he was thinking. "Sounds like someone else is trapped in here-- or maybe outside in one of the other structures-"

"There's no one else here," Derek said stiffly.

"Stay there, Gordon." John strode cautiously into the middle of the kiva, playing the beam of his flashlight about on the floor and curved walls, his head tilted on one side. Following the sound, he walked towards the wall furthest from the door, stumbling on the uneven floor. The steady ssh ssh of the branches swaying to and fro made listening difficult.

"Be careful, John." Kendra's voice sounded strangely hollow.

The voice came again, resolving itself into faint words: "Help us-help-"

Surely it came from that far wall. John panned the beam of his light across the curved surface, then down to the rough dirt floor. No place any person could be hiding or trapped-the floor in this section of the kiva was intact, the wall smooth and featureless.

So where was this voice coming from?

"Help me- please-don't let them-leave us-"

"Where are you?" John called, flashing his light about. "We're trying to help-but we can't see you-"

A brief silence, then the voice came again-a deep, sorrowful voice that echoed all around him, as if it came from the walls and the floor and the roof above.

"Help us-don't leave us like this-please-"

John turned and looked back the way he'd come, at the cluster of people gathered on the far side of the kiva, he felt more than a little foolish, as if he were the victim of some bizarre practical joke. Then, he took a step forward again.

"Where are you?" he called. "I'm trying to help-where are you?"

For a moment, only silence answered him. Then,clearly, he heard a deep voice say, "Here we are."

At the same moment, a faint, rhythmic throbbing of drum music echoed around him, as if the music came from the walls and floor of the kiva itself.

Then, the floor gave way and he plunged downward into darkness, landing with a painful thud on something hard, hitting his head-pain stabbed into his skull and the darkness about him was briefly shot through with pinpoints of light. Then, awareness faded and he fell backwards into unending darkness.

Chapter Four

Virgil felt a wave of relief wash over him as he eased the fire truck around the last twisting curve in the dirt road-mud road, he corrected, for the ongoing rain had transformed what had been a dusty road into a sea of oozing mud that threatened to bog down the heavy fire truck.

Virgil skillfully parked the fire truck close by several waiting ambulances and got busy helping his shaken passengers over to where the EMTs waited to examine them. Then, he headed over towards Mobile Control, where a small group of people stood in a tight cluster, his brother Scott in the center of it all.

"-find out what's going on in there," the site supervisor was saying "If that storm's injured any of my people or damaged our construction-"

Virgil couldn't shake the feeling that, to this man, the latter was of far more importance than the former.

"Sorry, Mr. Smith," Scott said in a rather exasperated tone. "But local interference has disrupted communications between me and our field team. I'm sure they'll be here soon-"

"I'm here," Virgil broke in.

"Oh-hey, Virg-" Scott's expression mirrored relief. "Where's John and Gord-o-"

"Still on site-"

"What's the situation there?" Smith shouldered his way forward so that he stood face to face with Virgil. Even in the wavering light from the portable halogens, his eyes sparked with ill concealed anger. "What's happening? Why isn't the rest of your team here with you?"

Virgil drew in a slow breath and willed himself to have patience. "Well, I'm not entirely sure how it happened, but here's the situation-" And he gave a terse description of the site as they'd found it, deliberately downplaying the amount of damage. But when he described the collapsed roof, Dennis said harshly, "A fitting end to a sacri religious project-"

Virgil, shot the man a narrow eyed look, but before he could react, Scott spoke again.

"So where's the others? Why didn't they come back with you?"

"A couple people in the structure were injured in the collapse and couldn't walk, so John and Gordon stayed with them. I brought out as many of the uninjured as I could on the fire truck; now, I'm going to head back--" he started to turn towards Tb 2. Smith grabbed his arm.

"How bad was the damage to the kiva?"

Virgil frowned. "Kiva?"

"That round structure back there-the one you said the roof collapsed on. How bad was it? Is the whole roof gone? Are the walls intact?"

Virgil carefully pulled his arm free of the other man's grasp. "Excuse me, Mr. Smith, but I have to get medical supplies together-there's still injured people there and two members of our team." He started towards TB 2 again., and again, Smith hurried after him.

"But how badly damaged is the kiva?" When Virgil ignored his questions, Smith added plaintively, "It's not that I'm not concerned about those injured people. But that site's a multimillion dollar project-any delays could trash the whole project-"

"Look, Smith-" Virgil quickly dropped the courtesy title. "International Rescue's concern is helping those who were hurt and saving lives. We don't' concern ourselves with rebuilding ruined structures." He narrowed his brown eyes at Smith. 'Now if you'll excuse me-" And he turned and strode briskly into the Pod.

He quickly gathered together the supplies he thought he would need and loaded them in the fire truck. Lightning ripped across the sky, briefly illuminating the landscape around him. Almost immediately, thunder boomed so loud that Virgil had to fight the urge to stop his ears. The wind picked up, whipped at the trees, bending even the sturdiest ones close to the ground and Virgil staggered as the force of the gust nearly knocked him off his feet. Just walking over to where Scott sat was an effort.

"On my way, Scott" he told him.

"Right. Just be careful--" His oldest brother eyed him with some concern. "With the comm link out, I won't know if anything's happened to you."

Virgil frowned and nodded. "Is it as bad out here? Have you been able to raise base?'

Scott's frown deepened . "No-and I've tried TB 5 as well- but all I get is that squealing noise. It's like there's something jamming the frequency somewhere nearby-"

"But what?" Virgil asked practically. "There couldn't be a transmitter that powerful within a hundred miles of this place-we 're out in the middle of the forest here."

"I know, Virg." Scott rolled his eyes. "Look, let's say-" He checked his watch. "10:12 now. Let's say if I don't see any sign of you or hear from you in an hour , I'm coming in to make sure you're okay."

"All right." Virgil checked his own watch against Scott's. "Shouldn't even take us that long-there's only four people left to evacuate-plus Gordon and John."

"Okay-take care,. Virg." Scott waved, then went back to fiddling with the useless controls on his console.

"I always do." Virgil strode briskly over to the fire truck, climbed behind the wheel and switched on the engine.

Nothing happened.

"Now what?" Scowling, Virgil tried again. Still nothing. No sound of the engine trying to turn over, no sound of ignition or the fuel injectors working-just stubborn silence.

"Swell." He climbed back out into the sheeting rain, lifted the hood and began to examine the engine.

Nothing seemed to be out of place or malfunctioning. The motor just plain would not start.

He tried several times more, then gave up and made his way back to Scott's side.

"You still here?" His brother looked surprised. "Thought you were on your way-"

"Truck won't start. " He let the disgust he was feeling show in his voice.

Scott frowned. "What-did Gordon leave the lights on again?"

"No-it's not the battery." Virgil made an impatient gesture. "I tried the back up one-no go. The engine's just plain dead."

Scott sighed and rubbed his temples. "Well, try one of the hover bikes, then. We've got to get stretchers out to those people-"

"FAB." Virgil ran back to the Pod, out the last hover bike and switched it on.

Nothing happened.

"Not again." He rolled his eyes, opened the engine compartment and examined its inner workings. Nothing was out of place or obviously wrong that he could see. Yet when he activated the switch again-there was still no reaction at all from the bike.

"Weird." Scott said when he went back to report to his oldest brother again. "It's like an epidemic- first the truck, then the hover bike-" In a softer voice, he added, "I wonder if John and Gordon are having the same problem?"

Virgil's mind was racing as he considered the possibilities. "Well, I could walk in with the supplies-- I guess-though it'd take awhile-"

"Or you could drop the supplies in from TB 2 and then come back here and walk into help them. That way, they could get the stretchers and everything ready for you-or for us-" Scott made a face. "Doesn't seem to be much point in my staying here-without the comm lines, there's nothing I can do-I might as well go with you."

"Right." Virgil turned back towards Thunderbird 2. "But you'd better let me power her up first-just to make certain-"

Scott shot him a narrow eyed look. "Aw. C'mon, Virg-you really think that TB 2's not going to fire up? We just did the maintenance on her engines last week-" he slid from behind Mobile Control as he spoke. "Next thing you know, you'll be saying you think that it's ghosts who are keeping everything from working properly."

Virgil only shrugged and led the way over to the green transport. "I'll believe anything the way this night is going." As an after thought, he added , "It is Halloween, you know."

Scott rolled his eyes. "Virg, if TB 2 doesn't power up, I'll-" He let his voice trail off, as if unable to think of a suitable threat.

"I'll hold you to that," Virgil said, sliding into the pilot's chair.

Somehow, he wasn't overly surprised when he activated the starter sequence-and nothing happened.

Scott made an exasperated sound. "Aw, c'mon, Virg-stop clowning!"

"It's not me, I swear. It won't fire." He activated the starter sequence again-still, no sound of the vertical jets firing or any of the normal sounds the transport made during engine start.

"Let me try-you must be doing something wrong." Scott reached over Virgil's shoulder and flipped the appropriate switches, ignoring the incredulous look his brother shot him.

"Doing something wrong?" Virgil said in disbelief. "Scott, you really think I don't know how to start my own Thunderbird by now?"

"Sorry, Virg-" Scott activated the start sequence and waited.

Nothing happened. The consoles remained dark, the engine silent-and dead.

The two brothers looked at each other in the gloom of the cockpit. Scott briefly closed his eyes, rubbed his forehead again, Virgil blew out a sigh, unstrapped himself and got up.

"Well, if we're going to walk, we'd better get started."

Chapter Five

Pain drove him back into awareness-a steady throbbing in his skull that made him feel nauseous. But when he opened his eyes, it was as dark as if he hadn't and for a frightening moment, he lay still, blinking and trying to remember what had happened. Where am I? And why is it so dark? He seemed to have some vague memory of falling into darkness-but beyond that, everything was a blur-

He shifted about, trying to take stock of his surroundings. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he realized that it wasn't completely dark-a faint yellowish glow came from off to his left. Beyond that, he could see a green light, like phosphorescence of some sort. Now, he saw that he lay on his back on a pile of earth and stones. Directly above him, a sort of well like opening rose, and when he looked down at himself, John saw that his blue uniform was smudged with dirt and torn, but he didn't see nay blood-so that was heartening.

His head throbbed terribly, the pain centered around a spot on his left temple, so he rather suspected that he'd struck it on something. He could easily move both arms, though bruises and scrapes protested the action, and his left leg moved without difficulty. But when he moved his right, pain flared through his ankle and he gasped, lay still.

"John? John, can you hear me?" The familiar voice came from somewhere above him. At the same time, a beam light shone down through the well like opening, played across his face. "John? Are you okay?"

He blinked, blinded by the sudden glare,. "Gordon?"

His brother's chuckle clearly drifted down to him. 'Yeah, it's me. You gave us quite a scare, bro-it was like the ground just opened up and swallowed you. Are you okay?"

"Pretty much," he called back, gingerly pushing himself into a sitting position. Now, memory returned with a rush: the collapsed kiva roof, the storm, the strange voices which he'd followed to the back wall-

And then the ground giving way beneath him, sending him plunging into the earth-

To where?

Still blinking, he looked around the throbbing in his ankle and forehead forgotten as he tried to take stock of his surroundings. The space into which he had fallen seemed a lot larger than it should've been if he'd simply tumbled into a sink hole caused by ground subsidence. On both sides, the darkness opened out into a large chamber or cave, and in the faint glow from his halogen light, lying on the ground to his left, he glimpsed objects scattered about in loose piles-stones, perhaps-but they seemed far too even and regular for that.

"Where am I?" He brushed his dirt caked hair out of his face, pushed himself upright.

"Looks like you decided to open up a lower level, John- sort of a bargain basement-"

John managed a wan grin at his brother's humor, then gingerly scrambled to his knees. "Gordon, this is really weird – there's like a whole chamber down here-almost like a cave-" He gasped as he tried to stand up and his right ankle gave way, sending him to his knees again. When he shifted about so that he could examine the injured spot, he could clearly see it swelling against his boot and even the lightest touch made him gasp in pain.

"Great-" he shook his head.

"What's the matter?" Gordon asked.

"Sprained my ankle." John made a spitting sound. "That's gonna make it tough to get out of here-"

"I think I saw a ladder outside," Gordon offered. "And I've got some rope back at the hover bike-I'll go see what I can rig up. We've got to get you out of there before any more of the floor decides to cave in."

"Right- hey, are the others okay?" John interrupted himself-he'd been so preoccupied with what had happened to him, he'd nearly forgotten that he and Gordon weren't alone in the kiva.

"They're fine," his brother called back. "It was just the floor over here that gave way-though I'm not sure why-"

"Subsidence of some sort, probably," John called back.

"Be right back." Gordon's head vanished and he heard the aquanaut say something to someone else, then silence fell over the kiva.

The silence made him remember what had led him to this part of the kiva in the first place-those strange voices-and had he really heard drum music? Or was it all his imagination?

"John-you're sure you're okay?" Kendra's voice called down to him now and he looked up to see both the Seneca girl and Loren, her Lenape companion, looking down at him. Kendra was holding one of the halogen lights-he guessed Gordon had given his spare to her.

"I'm fine-except for my ankle-" he crawled towards his fallen light. "Sure was strange, the ground giving way like that-" Concern welled up in his chest and he added quickly, "Um-you probably shouldn't get too close to the edge -in case more dirt gives way-"

"Hey-there's rooms down there." Excitement and fear edged Loren's voice. "Looks like a cave-"

"Yeah." John shone his light about. "Strange-I wonder what it could be-"

"Well, probably that's the reason for the subsidence," Kendra's voice echoed strangely down the opening through which he'd fallen. "If the kiva's built on top of some underground caves or mine shafts-the ground wouldn't be very stable-"

"Typical." Loren snorted derisively. "The wasicu never look ahead-"

He said more, but John didn't hear him. Because what he saw in the beam of his light made his skin crawl.

The objects piled on the floor about him-were earthen pots of various shapes and sizes, some intact, but many broken or crumbling with age. And mixed in among the pots-were the unmistakable shapes of human bones.

"So did the Lenape ever bury their dead in caves?" he called up to his companions, centering the beam of his halogen on a nearly intact skeleton that lay on its side, its legs curled up so that it seemed to be in a fetal position. A few reddish hued pots surrounded it.

"Why?" Loren asked sharply.

"Because I think we just found your burial grounds."

"No way you're going down there," Gordon said to the young Lenape, who stood glaring at him in the strange yellow litten darkness of the cave. "This is a rescue operation, not a caving expedition. Those pots and bodies aren't going anywhere-- you can come back and examine them tomorrow when it's light-"

"By then, the wasicu will have carried everything away," Loren insisted, using that strange word which Gordon assumed was an insult applied to white people. "They have a history of grave robbing. I can't just leave those remains unattended-or they'll end up in some museum-"

"Sorry," Gordon said firmly. "But I've got an injured colleague, the storm's getting worse, we can't contact the rest of our team and I'm afraid more of the floor will give way. We've got to get you and the others medical attention as soon as we can."

Loren drew breath to argue some more, but Gordon brushed past him and hurried over to the gaping hole in the floor of the kiva, carrying a metal construction ladder and several coils of rope. When he shone the beam of his light down into the hole, he didn't see his brother and anxiety twisted in his chest. 'John?"

"Here." The sound of John's voice directed him to a spot on the far left hand side of the cavern, where his brother seemed to be examining something.

"What's up? Is that really a burial chamber?"

"Looks that way. There's human remains down here and some artifacts. And there's also-" he broke off, and Gordon clearly saw his brother shake his head, his expression dubious.

"Also-what?" he asked as he maneuvered the ladder into place, with some help from Kendra, who was still sitting at the edge of the opening. "John-"

"Well-I know this is gonna sound weird-but there's a strange greenish mist or glow." John's usually confident voice sounded hesitant now. "And I thought I heard drum music-"

"Drum music? Green mist?" Gordon shook his head-what was his brother trying to pull? "John, I know it's Halloween, but this isn't really the place for jokes-"

"I'm not joking." His brother's serious tone surprised Gordon-obviously, John believed what he was saying, as impossible as it sounded. "You heard those voices earlier, right? And we still haven't found anyone around who could have been calling for help-"

"Well, yeah-" Gordon steadied the ladder and examined the coil of rope he'd brought. "Um-think you can manage the ladder? Or will we have to pull you up out of there?"

"Let me try the ladder first." John limped over to it. He managed to first couple of rungs, but then his ankle gave way, and he fell back onto the mound of earth.

"Okay, guess we'll need the rope." Gordon fashioned an adjustable loop in one end , which he then tossed down to his brother. 'Put this about your waist. "I'm going to recruit some help to lift your carcass outta there."

John s' chuckle drifted after him as he walked to the other side of the kiva, But when he reached the spot where they'd been standing, he found that Derek was gone-Steve sat there alone.

"Where'd he go?" Gordon looked around, feeling both angry and silly for letting one of the people he was supposed to be rescuing walk away.

Steve said quietly, "Not sure. He was here a little bit ago-before the cave in. But then, when you went to get the ladder, I realized he was gone. He must've slipped away while everyone was trying to figure out what happened to your friend."

Gordon scowled. "Great. Now we're going to have to try to find him on top of everything else-" Some rescue this is turning out to be! Trick or treat is right!

But aloud, he said only, 'Well, come on-you can help a little, I guess."

But as he led Steve over to the caved in section of the kiva, Gordon again thought he faintly heard a voice calling out, 'Help-please!"

The aquanaut turned to look at his companion. "Um-did you say something?"

"Not me."

Must be my imagination. Gordon shrugged and grabbed hold of the rope. "Okay, I'll be in front and Steve, you and Loren help from behind. John-if you can boost yourself at all-- it's probably help-"

"Right."

"Okay-get ready-" Gordon's voice trailed off as a new sound vibrated into the kiva. The steady, rhythmic sound-of drum music.

Behind him, Loren gasped. Steve crossed himself over and over. Gordon stood like a statue, telling himself, This can't be real-there's got to be a logical explanation--

The music grew steadily louder, until it filled the interior of the kiva. Steven let out a soft cry and dropped the rope, falling to his knees and stopping his ears. Loren listened, his head tilted ion one side and Kendra's green eyes were wide in the reflected light of the lamp she held.

Where's that sound coming from? Gordon began to pace about the kiva floor, trying to determine its origin. But whether because of a trick of the acoustic of the round chamber or for some other reason. He was unable to determine the source of the eerie music.

"Who's there?" Gordon cupped his hand about his mouth. "We're from International Rescue-if you need help, we need to know where you are."

The drum music faltered, as if the unseen drummer had heard him. Then, the sound slowly faded until there was only silence pressing in close around them.

Gordon looked around the shadowy kiva, trying to shake the feeling that they were not alone. Around him, the faces of his companions were pale and their eyes were wide. Steve kept his head bowed muttering what sounded like prayers under his breath.

"Did you hear that?" John called and the sound of his voice shattered the stasis that had held them all motionless as statues. "Gordon--?" "Yeah-we all heard it." The aquanaut picked up the rope and walked to the edge of the opening. "But what does it mean? And where was it coming from?"

"Not sure." John's eyes were wide. "But it sounded as if it came from down here somewhere-from under the earth. Of course-" he made a slight chuckle, but it sounded forced. "That's impossible."

"Yeah-impossible," Gordon echoed.

"The old stories of our tribe say that this valley is a haunted place," Loren said, "There are tales of people camping here-and never being seen again. The most recent of those was about 30 years ago. Two Lenape came here to spend the night. No one ever saw them again."

When the echoes of his voice died away, the silence seemed somehow to press in closer about them like a thick blanket threatening to smother them all..

"Right-well, this isn't the time for ghost stories," Gordon said stiffly "We've got to get John out of there-drums or no drums."

For a moment Loren looked as though he wanted to say something more, but then the Lenape simply nodded and bent down to grasp the rope also.

Finally, between the three of them, they managed to pull John up out of the underground chamber. As soon as his brother had untied the rope loop and limped away from the edge of the hole, he looked around and said, "Where's Derek?"

Gordon made a face. "He's gone-I guess he slipped out while we were trying to make sure you were okay. Guess he thought he could make better time alone without us."

John looked troubled, though he didn't say anything except, 'Okay, so now what? I thought Virgil would be back by now-any sign of him?"

Gordon ran to check, but the night was dark and empty-no sign of the fire truck's headlights. "He's not here yet." He managed a brief grin. "Maybe he did stop off for pizza."

"Guess we'd better figure a way back ourselves.-I don't like the idea of hanging around here with that storm kicking up outside-if we have any more subsidence, we might all end up in that burial chamber-"

He broke off as Steve began to cross himself repeatedly again.

"We could use the hover bikes," Gordon suggested. "Even if you can't walk, you can ride one, and we could get one person on the back of each-maybe two-that'd take care of everyone-"

"Right-good idea-" John broke off briefly as thunder boomed overhead,. The wind sighed about the edges of the kiva and Gordon thought he heard an ominous splintering sound close by, as if more tree limbs were about to fall.

"Okay, then,." He said. "You wait here-I'll go get the bikes so you won't have to walk too far on that ankle."

And without waiting for John's reply, he dashed out into the wind and rain.

They hadn't left the hover bikes very far from the kiva, but in the darkness it took Gordon several minutes to locate them-the narrow beam of his lamp seemed to get swallowed up in the darkness. In fact, he nearly tripped over the nearest of the bikes, stopping himself just in time.

"Okay-here goes-" he quickly climbed behind the control and activated the motor.

Nothing happened.

"Great-" Gordon blew out an exasperated sigh-was anything going to go right tonight? He checked all of the controls and tried again.

Still nothing.

He opened the engine compartment and shone his light inside. Everything looked intact, as near as he could tell with the rain running down his face. He checked the connections to make sure they were tight-they were. Then, he tried again.

Still nothing.

Okay, then, maybe the other one-

But the results were the same. No matter how he tweaked the controls or what he did or how fiercely he swore-

The hover bikes refused to operate.

Chapter Six

Scott wiped the rain from his face, adjusted the pack he was carrying and turned to frown over his shoulder at Virgil. "How much further, Virg?"

"Shouldn't be that far-but I'm not really sure," his brother replied, irritation edging his usually calm voice. "You remember, I took the road when I went to the site before-"

"Right-" Scott made a face-he didn't need to be reminded that it had been his idea to cut across "as the crow flies" to reach the danger zone and their brothers. Of course that was before the rain, which had been falling steadily all evening, turned into a sheeting downpour, before the wind had picked up and begun flinging tree limbs into their path. Now, the downpour had transformed the formerly dry earth into a sea of mud, criss crossed by a network of small rivulets of water. Several times, they had been forced to turn aside by downed limbs or sudden and fierce lightning strikes that had made the ground shake under their feet and threatened to ignite the trees. He was now soaked through, miserable, cold and disgusted-and not altogether certain how long they'd been walking or even if they were still going in the right direction.

And it didn't help that he could swear he heard voices, calling for help. He'd mentioned the sounds to Virgil, but his brother either didn't hear the sounds or chose to ignore them. So Scott tried to do the same, but he couldn't shake the eerie tingling sensation that crawled down his spine.

Was someone really out there somewhere, calling for help? Or is it only my imagination playing tricks on me?

Just then a sudden gust of wind tore a large branch from a nearby pine tree, sent it crashing down across their path, effectively blocking the way. The limb fell so close to where he stood that its outermost branches brushed against Scott's face, scratching his cheek.

"Okay-now which way?" his brother muttered, coming up beside him.

Scott played the beams of his light from side to side looking for a cleared spot amid the thick growth of the forest. Sporadic flashes of lightning illuminated the landscape in spurts, making it seem that the trees themselves were moving, dancing.

"That way-" He said finally, pointing towards an opening between several shaggy barked pines. "It looks pretty clear --"

"For now," Virgil muttered, following him through the ankle deep piles of soggy leaves and pine needles. "Just wait. " He made a spitting sound. ‘If I didn't know better, I'd say that something is trying to keep us from getting to John and Gordon."

Scott didn't reply, but his brother's words sent a strange chill rippling through him, a chill that he fought to ignore as he pressed onward.

"All right, then-we'll all stay together over here." John indicated a spot close to the kiva doorway. "That way, if the subsidence back there gets any worse, we won't be in any danger."

"At least not that from," Loren muttered. John shot him a sharp look, but let the comment pass-mainly because he was still puzzling over the hover bikes refusing to operate. That's very strange-they've never failed us before-in fact, they've been some of the most reliable products of Brains' technology. There's no reason for them both to fail at the same time-

"Can't we go somewhere else and wait?" Steve said from his position closest to the doorway-in fact, he stood so close to the opening that he was getting wet from the spray of wind driven rain through the opening g. ‘I don't like it in there."

John opened his mouth to reply, but Loren was quicker. "Anything that's wrong in this kiva you brought upon yourselves, wasicu. It's what you deserve for building on sacred ground. Would you want someone to build upon the graves of your ancestors?'

"No, but-"

"It is no different for us. We hold our burial grounds sacred-anyone who digs up the remains or defiles the ground-deserves what happens to them-"

"Loren-" Kendra shook her head. "Maybe they didn't know-"

"They knew." the Lenape's voice rose. "They knew full well what they were doing-we told them. We tried to stop them, to warn them-but they went ahead-and now, you see the result-" he gestured at his own injury, at Kendra's bandaged ankle.

"All right," John broke in, feeling as if the talk had spiraled out of his control, "Your people can figure out who's to blame and what should be done later. Right now, we need to focus on getting everyone safely out of here-before this storm brings down some more of the kiva."

For several minutes they sat without speaking. The darkness seemed to John to press close about them, like a blanket and several times, he thought he again heard that faint rhythmic drum music, though he didn't mention it to the others. Whether they heard it or not, he couldn't tell.

"Maybe we should've gone with your colleague," Steve said finally, his soft voice nearly drowned by a particularly loud crash of thunder. "Better than waiting here-"

John shook his head. "No good. Kendra can't walk at all and I can't very well-Out there, in the wind and darkness and rain, we'd only be asking for trouble."

But even as he said this John felt a stab of worry – not for them, but for his brother. It had been Gordon's idea to "run back and hurry Virgil along" as he put it and at first, John had argued, insisting that it was better that they all stay together., But Gordon had insisted that it wouldn't take long, that most likely, he'd find Virgil and the fire truck a little ways down the dirt road-

"And we'll be back in a flash," the aquanaut had said with a wink. Finally, despite his own misgivings, John had agreed and Gordon had left, carrying two of the portable lights and the coil of rope-just in case.

In case of what, John didn't know.

He checked his watch-which right now, was only good for telling time-they'd repeatedly tried the telecoms built into their watches with no result other than a squeal of interference and static. He and Gordon had synchronized their watches before the aquanaut had left-so by John's count, it had been 15 minutes.

John shifted about, trying to keep his weight off his throbbing ankle-he'd been standing, leaning against the kiva wall, mainly because he felt even more helpless when he sat down. He frowned out into the night, where the lightning flares were even more frequent than before, so that the landscape seemed to be dancing with spears of blue white light. The wind had picked up, wailing about the kiva, a shrill, eerie sound like the cry of some wounded creature-

To pass the time, he turned to Steve and asked a question that had been niggling at the back his mind ever since he and Gordon had approached this site on their hover bikes-how long ago now? "So what is this place supposed to be, anyway? I've never seen anything quite like it-you've got a kiva here and what looks like a tipi-"

"You do not have the right to construct such structures, " Loren put in sharply, his dark eyes glinting. "especially not for such a frivolous purpose-"

"What purpose?' John interrupted, curious. "Why are you even building these structures here, out in the middle of the woods?"

"It's going to be a resort area," Steve said, still staring out into the night beyond the doorway. "Or it was-who knows what will happen now? But these structures were to be places where people could camp and experience the woods the way the Indians did long ago-"

"Pah!" Loren made a spitting sound. "The Lenape never lived in such structures! Nor would they build here, in this sacred valley where our ancestors are buried-"

"We did not know that it was a burial site," Steven insisted, turning to face the Lenape. ‘Or at least, the workers did not know. I can't say if Derek knew-"

"He was told," Kendra said quietly, speaking for the first time a while. In the pale glow of the halogens, her face was ashen, her eyes wide and dark, her forehead lined with pain. "IMPULSE told him many times once we took up the cause for the Lenape. But neither Derek nor his company would listen. They had chosen this site and would not be stopped, no matter we said. And once they had obtained their permits, there was little legal recourse for us-"

She let anything else she might've been going to say trail off as the wind noise grew louder, a shrill keening wail that more so than ever had the sound of a voice-

"-likely got the permits illegally," Loren was saying when the sound faded. "For no one in our tribe would give permission to build here-"

"This is public land," Steve shot back showing some signs of anger for the first time that evening. "Your tribe does not own this land-"

"That is up for debate," The Lenape replied stiffly. "This was our ancestral land The state took it away from us wrongfully-and we have been trying to reclaim it ever since-"

That shrill cry came again-and this time, John felt the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up. "That's not the wind," he said, limping towards the door.

At first, he didn't see anything except the darkness and the wildly dancing trees, But then, a strange greenish glow appeared off to the right, a glow that seemed to steadily grow brighter.

"What in the name of heaven is that?" Steve's voice at his side made John realize that the construction worker had joined him in the doorway

"I'm-not sure-" John said slowly, feeling a sharp tingle slide down his spine. "Ball lightning?"

But even as he said this, John knew it couldn't be so-for the glow moved in a purposeful way, as if moved by some sentient force,. And-whatever it was-it was coming towards them.

"I don't like this," Steve whispered hoarsely.

At that moment, John felt the air turn noticeably colder; he shivered in his damp uniform and when he spoke, he could see the steam cloud of his breath hanging in the darkness. He tried to tell himself that such temperature changes often accompanied storms, especially severe ones like this, but his skin began crawl anyway and he wrapped his arms about himself.

"John-" Kendra's voice from behind him made him turn to see that both she and Lorne were watching him, their eyes wide and dark. "John-what is it? What's out there?"

"I'm not sure-" he said, his voice steadier than he had hoped it would be. "There's some weird kind of glow moving towards us-through the trees-"

"Glow?" Loren interrupted and abruptly, the young Lenape pushed his way into the doorway as well. "You're sure--?" he broke off when he, too, saw the strange light and he cursed under his breath, his hands curling into tight fists.

"Loren?" Kendra struggled to get to her feet, but a gasp of pain escaped her and she collapsed onto the dirt floor of the kiva again. "Loren-John-what is it? What do you see?"

John didn't reply-mainly because he didn't know what to say. For as the greenish mist drew nearer, he thought he saw in the center of the halo of mist-the shape of some sort of creature-but whether man or animal he couldn't say. Tall it was, and it seemed to walk upright-like a man-though if it was a man, he couldn't imagine who it might be-

At his side, Loren again muttered something under his breath. And then he spoke aloud, a single word that hung vibrating in the now frigid night air:

"Windigo."

"Now this is ridiculous." Gordon stood still, hands on his hips, scowling at the strange-and all too familiar-- rock formation he was confronted with. Familiar-because he had passed the very same rock formation before-at least two other times, by his count. "I mean, I now I wasn't the stellar Boy Scout that Scott and Virg were-but my woodcraft isn't that bad."

While he was standing still, Gordon played the beam of his halogen light across the face of his watch-- 10:45. By his count, he'd been walking for close to a half hour-in circles apparently. He was no closer to finding either the landing site or the Fire truck or Virgil and Scott-than he had been when he'd first started out.

Holding back an exasperated sigh, he tried his telecomm again. "Gordon, calling John-or Virgil-or Scott. Does anyone read me?"

His watch face remained stubbornly blank and the only sound that came from the small speaker was a faint squeal of static.

"Great-" he tried again, even though he'd already figured out that it was hopeless. Same result. Finally, he gave up, scowling. This is sure turning into a huge mess of a rescue.

He'd started out following the dirt road, but had tuned aside when he found it hopelessly blocked, even for one on foot, by a mudslide that had taken most of the road bed down into the valley. He‘d turned north to avoid the slide-and then had gotten off course and been quite unable to locate the road again.

And to make matters worse, there were those sounds he'd been hearing. In fact, he reflected grimly, those sounds were probably the reason he was so far off track. Several times, as he sloshed through the soggy forest, he'd heard the rhythmic thump of footsteps ahead and to his right. Assuming it was Virgil, Gordon had called his brother's name, but when he got no answer, he'd headed off in that direction, planning to catch up his brother and tease him about being late getting back to the site.

But each time, the footsteps had eventually faded into silence, or been drowned out by the crashing of thunder-and he'd fund no one. No sign of Virgil or Scott, no sign of the dirt road-and no sign of the fire truck.

Now, he glared at the rock formation, as if it were somehow responsible for his misdirection, and considered what to do next. Let's see-I could go on and keep trying to find Virg and Scott. Except I'm not having very much luck doing that. Or I could try to head back to the site and join up with John and the others. At least that way, they'd now what was happening. Or-- he made a tight smile. Or I could just sit down here and wait for someone to find me-

But, tempting as the last alternative was, Gordon finally decided to head back to the site. At least that way, I'll have some company. Being alone in the darkened woods with the rain lashing down and the wind sighing like a voice in the trees over his head and the lightning flaring about him was making Gordon uneasy. He kept imagining he heard voices off to the left or the right, soft cries for help, shrill screams of pain. He kept telling himself it was a combination of the wind and the thunder and his own vivid imagination, but it wasn't working-not completely.

So it was with relief that he turned and retraced his steps back towards the site where the strange half farmed tipi and the round kiva sat like silent monuments in the blue flaring darkness.

And-surprisingly-within about 15 minutes, he found himself in the middle of the construction site again, facing the tall frame of the tipi. The hover bikes sat where he had left them, useless. Though some faint sense of hope made him walk to the nearest one and try to activate it.

As he'd expected-nothing happened.

"well, at least I'll have John to talk to," he said aloud, giving up on the bike and swiftly walking the short distance between himself and the partially ruined kiva.

As he drew closer, he realized two things:

There weren't any lights showing from the doorway of the kiva.

And everything was frighteningly quiet. No sound of voices, no hint of movement-nothing.

Gordon's stomach curled into a frozen lump. He clenched his hands into fists, broke into a run towards the kiva, shouting, ‘John? John-can you hear me? Are you all right?"

Only the growl of thunder and the echo of his own voice answered him.

It seemed to take him hours to cross the short distance between himself and the kiva; several times, he stumbled over something on the ground that he couldn't see. When he drew closer and could see the darkened door opening, Gordon drew his gun and crept silently forward, his muscles tensed. If something had happened to John and the others while he was gone-if whoever was behind it was still here-they were in for a huge surprise.

He moved silently up to the curved wall of the kiva, tensed briefly, then spun and lunged into the doorway, his gun held at arm's length, his halogen light aimed into the center of the kiva.

"Hold it right here!" he said boldly

Nothing moved inside the kiva. He played the beam of his light across the interior-and groaned. More of the roof had collapsed and debris littered the floor everywhere he looked, broken boards, cracked stones, pieces of roof shingle.

But there was no sign of anyone around, and no indication of what had happened. It was as if his brother and the others had vanished into the night, like spirits themselves.

"Great." Gordon slowly lowered his weapon, a sense of mingled anger and dismay clenching in his chest. "Just great-"

And he leaned against the rain soaked wall of the kiva and tried to figure out what to do next.

Chapter Seven

"Windigo?" John faltered a bit on the strange word, though he remembered that he'd heard Tai use it back at the landing site. "What's that?"

Loren made a spitting sound. "You would not understand."

"Try me," John challenged him, though he never took his gaze off the approaching green mist-and the creature that walked within it.

Loren just snorted and shook his head.

"It means nothing," Steve said, spitting off to the side. "The Indians always used to call us that when we first started working here. It's just a kind of insult-"

"No it's not."

John jumped, startled, at the sound of Kendra's voice; she'd somehow managed to limp as far as the kiva doorway, where she stood leaning against the stone wall, her face twisted in pain.

"What-" he began, but she was already continuing.

"Windigo is a creature of legend. It's called by various names, but in the northeast, Windigo is the main one." Her gaze strayed past him to focus on that strange-thing-that was steadily approaching. The-Windigo-if that's what it was- didn't seem to have noticed them-for it was taking a path parallel to where they stood, as if it was merely scouting about. "It's a man like creature-rather like Bigfoot. Only more dangerous. But it's only a legend-"

"You never know," Loren said stiffly. "Many things that are thought to only be legend have turned out to be true."

Staring out at the strange creature, which was only about a dozen yards away from them now, John felt his skin crawl. Whatever his own thoughts on the subject, this-thing-was real enough-unless they were all having some weird kind of shared hallucination. Now, he noted the details of the being's appearance-it was tall and broad, taller than he was, and its body seemed to covered with what looked like whitish fur-or feathers. Its shape and features were roughly man like, though where the eyes ought to have been were only sparks of red light. And in the middle of what passed for its forehead there shone the scarlet outlines of a five pointed star-

John blinked and looked again, disbelieving what his eyes had told him. This can't be happening, can't be real. Creatures like this just don't exist-

But there was no denying the reality of this being as it strode swiftly between the trees and now, a shrill keening wail came from it, the same sound he'd heard earlier, mistaking it for the wind.

"No!" Steve shouted hoarsely. "No-we've got to get out of here-"

"Stay put!" John grabbed the man's arm, jerked him to a halt. "It hasn't seen us yet-=- if we go back into the kiva we might be safe. That door's too small for it to enter-"

"No," Steve protested. "No-" A groan of pain escaped him and he sank to his knees, holding his head in his hands.

"The kiva will not protect us," Loren said stiffly "It is not of this place-"

"We'll just have to take our chances, " John said stiffly. ‘And if does find us-I'll handle it." He touched the butt of his gun as he said this, looked again at the strange being, feeling a mixture of alarm and anger surge through him. "Get into the kiva-now. And make sure he gets inside as well-" he gestured at Steve was still kneeling in the mud, hunched over as if in pain.

Muttering something about "wasicu ignorance," Loren limped to Steve's side, grabbed the construction worker's arm and jerked him to his feet, John heard the Lenape say something to the other man, though the words were lost in the steady keening wail of the Windigo. Whatever he said must've been effective, for Steve got to his feet and walked towards the kiva.

John waited until they'd reached the doorway before heading for the shelter himself. His skin prickled all over and at any minute, he expected the Windigo to turn and spot them, to stride towards them, its huge arms outstretched-

Wonder if my gun would even stop that thing? It must be 8 or 9 feet tall--

He fought back a shiver and hurried to Kendra's side.

"Come on-let's get inside," he told her gently, noticing that she was shivering, her face drawn and pale.

She nodded and let him lead her into the circular chamber.

John quickly doused his light, motioned for Loren to do the same and they sat in taut silence, watching the creature move past their hiding place with painful slowness. It strode by not more than 2 or 3 yards to the north, its motions strangely man like-and as John watched impossible being, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that there was something familiar about the creature-something about its walk and its manner that reminded him of someone.

Then, the glow faded and soon, the creature was lost to view in the night and the rain.

John realized he ‘d been holding his breath, let it out in a gusty sigh. Beside him, Kendra whispered hoarsely, "That was close!"

"We are not safe here," Loren said from the darkness to his right. "It will likely return-for what more likely place for us to hide than here-in the white man's buildings?"

"But why would it bother?" John asked, switching on his halogen lamp and muffling its light against the ground. "What is it even looking for?" He made a face as he asked the question-I can't believe I'm really talking about this-thing-as if it's real-

"I forget-you do not know--" Loren's face twisted into a scowl and he spat off to the side. "The Windigo-eats human flesh."

Steve cursed and began crossing himself again.

John said slowly, "I don't believe that-"

Loren shrugged then winced at the movement. "That is what the legends say. Windigo are greedy-they are always hungry. When there is no food, they eat their fellow humans."

"Fellow humans?" John echoed, looking from Loren to Kendra and back to Loren again. "You mean-"

"Windigo were once human," Kendra said quietly. "According to the stories-a greedy person can become windigo-"

"Like the wasicu here," Loren finished and now, John understood why Tai had applied the term to the construction workers.

"So now what do we do?" Kendra asked after a moment's silence had wrapped itself about them like a blanket. "Do we stay here-or try to find a safe place somewhere else?"

"We cannot stay here," Loren insisted, and in the muffled glow of the light, his expression was earnest. ‘It will find us, for this is the site of the greed, of the wasicu. And there is no protection in a kiva built by the wasicu." He drew in a deep breath, added firmly, "We should leave this place."

"But if we do," John said, feeling rather like he was losing control over the situation. "Where would we go? And how far could we get-I can manage, but Kendra can hardly walk--"

"I can help her," Loren said firmly. "But we dare not remain here-this place is no longer safe."

John was still debating what to do when a shrill keening wail echoed through the night. Outside the kiva doorway, that greenish glow began to brightened again, this time off to the left.

"It's doubling back," Loren said urgently. "We must get out of here before it's too late."

A moment or so longer, John debated about the wisdom of leaving the kiva. It won't do much good to go flying blindly into the night, but if we get trapped here there's no other doorway, no other way out-

In the end, this was what decided him. He looked at Loren and nodded. ‘Okay-we'll go. But which direction?"

"South and west," the Lenape said "There are places there that are safer-"

"All right then." John moved to help Steve to his feet-the construction worker looked dazed, as if he thought the whole thing was a nightmare come to life. "Come on," John told him firmly. "We're going to try to get to safety."

The man just nodded.

Loren helped Kendra up and together, the four companions set off to the south, moving as swiftly as they could past the partially framed tipi, which, John couldn't help thinking, looked like a skeleton silhouetted against the blue white flares of lightning.

Their progress was hampered in part by the thickly growing trees and in part by John's Kendra's injuries. In fact, for the first mile or so as they limped along, John clenching his teeth against the pain in his ankle, he began to seriously doubt whether he had made there right decision. How will Gordon and Virgil find us now? If they come and we're gone, what will they think? Maybe we should've stayed-

But then, behind them, the green glow brightened against the sky, brighter even than the flares of lightning. That shrill wail echoed over and over through the stillness. Then, several loud crashes and splintering noises filled the night air, drowning out any other sounds.

"The kiva," Kendra whispered and John nodded. The noises did indeed sound as if some powerful creature were breaking down the roof and walls of the round structure.

"We did right to leave." Loren nodded as if he knew what had happened. A moment longer, the four companions paused, looking back at the eerie glow against the sky, then John said hoarsely. "Let's keep moving."

It was a miserable trek-John felt his boots sink into mud up to his ankles, rain lashed his face, plastered his hair to his skull and the chill he'd felt earlier deepened, making him shiver. His companions slogged miserably along, limping through piles of soggy dead leaves, stepping over or around the rotting trunks of long fallen dead trees and skirting swift flowing streams and rivulets that had not had time to sink into the ground. His ankle throbbed steadily and his head had begun to ache as well. At his side, Steve walked like a man in a nightmare, mechanically moving his legs, staring straight ahead, his eyes like glass. Loren moved with an easy grace despite his shoulder injury and he supported Kendra, who limped painfully along, her lips pressed into a thin line.

We all need medical attention, John thought bitterly, glancing round at the pale faces of his companions in the glow of his halogen light., What in heavens name are we doing tramping through the woods when we should be trying to find Scott and Virg and Gordon--?

The trees pressed close about them, and now, when he looked back, the greenish glow had faded-though he thought he could still catch a glimpse of it between the close set trees. He as about to suggest that they turn aside and try to find the landing site and the Thunderbirds when the trees began to thin abruptly and Loren gave a soft cry,

"Look at that-"

Ahead and slightly to their right, a small low wooden building sat. It had been built roughly in the center of a circle of trees and warm amber light shone from its windows. As they drew closer, John felt what seemed to be a narrow path under his boots. He would have suspected that this was where Loren had been leading them-- save for the odd reaction of the Lenape.

Loren stopped walking so abruptly that Kendra staggered, gasping as the jolt threw her off balance. The Lenape started at the structure, shaking his head as if he thought he was seeing things.

"What's the matter?" John asked, moving up alongside him. "Do you know who lives here? Will they help us?"

"That's just it," Loren whispered hoarsely, his eyes wide, "There shouldn't be any structure here. I know this part of the woods like the back of my hand-and I have never seen a traditional long house anywhere in this area."

The wind sighed through the trees over his head and John felt his skin begin to prickle sharply. "Well-maybe you just never saw it before-"

"No. I know these woods-this is my home. And I tell you there is no house here."

"Well, it's here now," Steve muttered. "So why don't we just nock on the door and ask for help?"

Loren hesitated. ‘I don't like it-"

John glanced back the way they'd come. Was it his imagination or was that green glow brightening again between the trees? He felt a sudden stab of urgency, a potent need to be out of the night and surrounded by that warm amber glow.

"I don't think I can walk any further," Kendra whisper huskily. "Sorry-"

"That settles it," John said, touching the butt of his gun again. "We'll go ask whoever lives here for help." And he led the way towards the house. Steve right on his heels.

Shaking his head dubiously, Lorne followed, guiding Kendra along at his side.

And john noticed that as soon as they stepped into the circle of trees, the air grew noticeably warmer, the wind died away, the rain lessened. Strange, he thought, but then the door opened and a tall man stepped out into the night. The wind teased his long hair into a cloud about his shoulders and in the reflected light of their lamps, his dark eyes gleamed softly.

"You have come in time," he said in a deep mellow voice. "Come inside and share our shelter, for you will be safe here-from the night-and from there Windigo."

"How did you know-" John began, but the t]an shook his head abruptly.

"No questions now. Come inside quickly-" His tone turned urgent. When John still hesitated, the Indian added, "There is no danger here. Hanya and I are of the Lenape. And we will shelter you for this night." He paused then added, "My name is Tokala."

And something about the man's voice convinced John that he spoke the truth-he let Tokala lead him and his companions into the comforting warmth of the small house,. And he could not deny that he felt better once the heavy wooden door swung shut between him and the night outside.

Fighting back a surge of anxiety, Gordon played the beam of his light around the ruined kiva. Where could John and the others have gone? And what had happened to make the wall and roof collapse? There was no sign of any more fallen trees-rather, the kiva looked as if some strange force had pushed the wall over, sending the roof collapsing on the circular chamber.

He'd checked the rubble as thoroughly as he could, considering that alone, he could shift very little of it aside-and, thankfully, he'd fond no sign of his brother or the others. So maybe they got out before this happened. But where did they go?

He now panned his light across the ground at his feet-maybe he'd get lucky and the rain wouldn't have wiped out any footprints or tracks.

After a moment, the beam of light revealed a series of small boot and foot prints leading around to the side of the kiva and then southwards. Gordon smiled grimly as he recognized the distinct imprint of John's boots-all of their IR boots had the same distinctive tread pattern.

He was about to try and follow the trail when his light revealed something else-another imprint in the soft mud outside of the kiva. It looked like a footprint of a man-the arch and the shape were visible, as were the toe marks. But there was only one strange thing about it-

The footprint was easily two or three times the size of his own foot.

Gordon rubbed his eyes and looked again,. I've got to be seeing things-this can't be real

But the footprint was still there, impossibly large and deep-nearly 6 inches deep, as if whatever had made the track was also considerably heavier than a typical man.

Just to make certain he wasn't imagining its size, Gordon carefully placed his own foot in the center of the strange track. By comparison, his boot might have been a bay's shoe.

Okay-so I'm not imagining things. But what in the world could be the explanation for this: Did something really make this track? Or is it some sort of prank or joke?

He was still staring at the strange print and trying to decide what to do next when he glimpsed two small points of light moving towards him. Gordon tensed and reached instinctively for his gun, but then the lights drew closer and he heard voices calling out, "John? Gordon?"

He let out the breath he was holding-it was Scott's voice. "Over here-" Gordon waved his arm wildly, hurried towards them, careful not to tramped the tracks he'd just found.

"Gordon?" Scott played the beam of his lamp across his brother's face. "That you?"

‘yeah-now get that light out of my eyes, will you?" Gordon flung up an arm to shield his eyes from the glare. "And what took you guys so long? It's not that far to the landing site."

"Long story." Scott sighed and as he drew closer, Gordon saw that both his brothers' uniforms were soaked and streamed with mud, their hair was dripping and they looked disgusted and weary. ‘tell you about it later-much later-"

"So where's John-and the others?" Virgil asked hurrying closer and peering in the direction of the collapsed kiva. "And what happened here-it wasn't like this when I left-"

"Sure wish I knew." Gordon made a helpless gesture. "This is how I found it-"

"You found it?" Scott frowned at the ruined kiva. "You mean you weren't here when it happened? So where were you?"

"I'll give you the short version-" And quickly, Gordon told his brothers about the cave in, the strange voices and John's injury, his decision to head back and "hurry Virgil along" and his subsequent walking in circles, his choice to head back here--

"And this is the way the kiva was when I got back," the aquanaut finished. "No sign of John or the others and no clue as to what happened here after I left." He sighed and let his shoulders slump, suddenly feeling very tired and miserable and wishing the whole business were over with and they could head home for some spiced cider and cookies.

"But where are John and the others? " Virgil's question pulled him back to reality and he saw that his brother was staring in horror at the ruined kiva. ‘They're not-in-there-"

"Don't think so," Gordon replied soberly. "I checked as well as I could and there's no indication that anyone is--- there-" he stopped short of saying the word "buried." "Besides, I found their tracks leading to the south-" Gordon pointed at the ground, where the tracks of the others were steadilygrowing soggy and indistinct.

"You're right-" Scott played the beam of his light along the ground. "There's four sets of tracks so it looks as if everyone is safe. But why would they take off like that? And what in the world happened to the kiva?"

"Well, I don't know if this explains anything or not," Gordon replied. "But I'll show you one other thing I found. But-you're not going to believe this-"

And he centered the large footprint in the beam of his flashlight.

"But how did you know we were in trouble?" John asked, leaning back in the worn chair and gingerly stretching his sore leg out in front of him., The two Lenape-Tokala and Hanya-had brought them steaming cups of tea and were now busy making their unexpected guests comfortable in the small one room house. "And how did you know about the Windigo?"

Hanya muttered something under his breath and stared into the fire. But Tokala, the younger of the two, said gently, "There are many ways of knowing, John. But long has this valley been a haunted place, a place where the spirit of the Windigo has lingered. Once, the place even bore its name-long ago, it was called Windigo Valley, but then the People forgot the reason and the name was changed and the land changed hands-and the old stories have been forgotten."

John sipped at his tea and frowned. ‘I don't understand."

Loren muttered something under his breath. Kendra shot him a sideways look, but Tokala only smiled. "You, too, have forgotten much, cousin, though I do not fault you for that. Times have changed and I fear they have left much behind."

"Stop talking in riddles," Steve said a bit brusquely. The construction worker sat stiffly on a wooden chair close to the door, as if he wanted to be ready to run out at any moment. ‘Just tell us what the hell's going on out there."

Tokala's smile faded slightly. "You saw it for yourselves. The Windigo has come again. It should come as no surprise, seeing what your company has been doing further up the valley-" The Lenape pointed to the north, in the direction of the construction site.

"Not my company, I just work for ‘em. A man's gotta have a job-"

"There's surely other jobs you could get," Loren shot.

Now, Tokala held up a hand. "That does not matter. What matters now is that Windigo has returned. Ever he returns, where greed runs out of control. For the Windigo is greed in human form-the ultimate greed. He is so greedy that he must devour his fellow humans and still, his hunger is not satisfied."

John shivered. "So that thing-is real then?"

"Real enough," Hanta spoke finally, so abruptly that everyone jumped.

"Is there anything we can do?" Kendra asked, shifting about in her own chair,. ‘Any way we can-stop the Windigo or make it go away?"

"The Windigo will not leave until its greed is satisfied-or until daylight comes," Tokala said soberly. "For now, your best hope is to stay with us, for you will be safe enough here-we have built wisely-and no evil can enter the circle."

"Stay here all night?" Steve cried, getting to his feet and pacing the length of the small room. "I can't stay here all night-I've got a family at home-they'll be worried about me. And I've got to find Derek-he's out there somewhere-- if something happens to him-"

"Something has already happened to him,' Hanya said cryptically and John found himself thinking again about the Windigo and how familiar it had seemed.

"You must remain here," Tokala said again. "It would be too dangerous to go out there, to leave the circle. For only those who know what to do can banish the Windigo-"

"Why-" John began, but then, a shrill keening wail echoed through the night outside, piercingly loud even inside the small cabin. He tensed and Kendra's eyes widened; Steve sprang to his feet and ran to the window. Only the two older Lenape sat calm and still in their chairs.

"It's coming!" Steve cried pulling the worn drapes aside to reveal the green glow growing brighter in the north. "We can't just stay here-it'll smash this place like a toy. We've got to get out of here!"

"No-" Tokala said, but before anyone could stop him, Steve ran to the door, flung it open and darted out into the green litten night.

"Let him go," Loren said harshly, "He deserves what he gets-"

"No," John got stiffly to his feet, limped as quickly as he could to the open door. "Our job is to rescue people, not sit and watch them die. I've got to go after him-"

"No, John-" Kendra protested but he was already hurrying awkwardly outside, his gun, drawn, playing the beam of his belt light about as he looked fro some sign of Steve.

The greenish glow brightened and in its glare, he clearly saw the construction worker, running towards the southernmost edge of the circular grove in which the house sat.

"Steve!" John shouted into the rising wind. ‘Steve-come back-"

The man just kept running-if indeed, he'd even heard him. Shaking his head, John limped after him as quickly as he could, gritting his teeth against the pain in his swollen ankle. From behind him, he heard first Kendra, then Tokala call his name, but he didn't stop.

The green glow brightened steadily until he no longer needed his halogen light; he could clearly see Steve's running figure-he was already at the outermost edge of the grove and moving quickly. Swearing, John tried to move faster, but his sore ankle gave way and he stumbled, fell to one knee. Precious time was lost as he scrambled up, limped forward again.

Then, just as he reached the edge of the circle of trees, the Windigo strode into view. John gasped as the air turned sharply cold, as if he'd been plunged into a freezer. Numb, he stared up at the impossible creature-now about 4 feet away and moving swiftly nearer. It was easily 8 feet tall-perhaps more-and that strange star shaped mark in the center of its forehead glittered a sickly crimson. The creature walked rather like a man, stretching out its massive pale arms towards Steve-and again, John was struck by a feeling that the Windigo reminded him of someone else-

A hoarse cry was torn from Steve as he stumbled over something-a fallen branch perhaps-and went sprawling directly in front of the Windigo.

That shrill keening wail came from the creature and it bent down and reached for the construction worker-

"No!" Anger flared through John like fire and he stumbled forward, his gun leveled at the Windigo's chest as he put him self between Steve and the strange creature. ‘No-I'm not going to let you hurt him!"

The Windigo turned those strange glittering eyes on him and John felt an even deeper chill stab into his chest, penetrating into the very depths of his being-for an awful moment, as he stood there, his gun drawn, his finger poised on the trigger, he was gripped by a strange paralysis-as if his muscles had all been frozen by the sheer anger and hatred emanating from the Windigo's stare. He stood transfixed, staring at the, his gun held ready, and yet he could not force himself to move even his finger, could not fire-

"John!" A familiar voice called his name from somewhere behind him and then another voice filled the cold air, a deep, warm voice chanting strange, rhythmic words that he didn't understand. But John's mind latched onto the words and he felt them vibrate into his mind, radiating warmth and strength., The numbing chill faded and he regained control of his body again.

And it seemed that almost no time had passed-for he still stood between Steve and the Windigo, his weapon leveled, his finger tensed on the trigger. And behind him, still on his knees, Steve began to crawl away, and a ragged sobbing sound came from him.

"I won't let you hurt him!" John cried and he held the gun steady and pulled the trigger.

And nothing happened.

John swore, quickly checked the gun's setting and tried again.

Still, nothing. It wasn't as if the gun was empty. More like it had suddenly been turned into a harmless toy, with no power to hurt anyone or anything-

"No-" John tried once more though he already knew it would be futile.

The Windigo's crimson eyes began to glitter brightly again. The strange creature strode forward, swinging its huge arms, lunging right at John. He dropped his gun and tried to run backwards, away from those reaching hands, and grasping fingers-

But his sore ankle gave way and he sprawled on his back in the mud and dried leaves.

"John!" Kendra's voice somewhere behind him. He struggled to get up, to move, but the Windigo was already reaching for him-

Strong hands grasped his shoulders from behind, dragged him backwards,. The Windigo lunged at him, its outstretched hand brushing past his face so close that he felt the rush of air, the tickling sensation as its long-fur-feathers-brushed his cheek.

That keening wail filled the night again and the Windigo straightened up, strode forward, its arms raised menacingly. The star mark in the center of its forehead shone brilliantly-

"Come-hurry!" Tokala's voice said at his ear, and almost before John realized what was happening, the Lenape hauled him bodily to his feet, pulled him along, towards the grove of trees that surrounded the house. Somehow, John managed to stumble along beside his companion, nearly falling several times as his throbbing ankle gave way. Then, they were under the trees and surprisingly, Tokala stopped, turned to watch the strange pale creature.

John hunched over, keeping most of his weight on his good leg, and gasped for breath. Some detached part of his mind noticed that the air had turned warm again and he wondered at it-

But then a shrill wail from the Windigo pulled at his attention and he looked up to see the tall creature stride towards them, its arms outstretched--

"uh-Tokala-shouldn't we take cover-get inside-" John began.

Tokala only smiled. "There is no need-watch-"

And John stared with morbid fascination at the strange creature, watching it move towards them arms outstretched menacingly. one step, two-

And it stopped. Right outside the circle of trees. Though there was no barrier there that John could see, the Windigo stooped as surely as if it had been brought up short by an electric fence. Again, that shrill cry came from it, and the crimson glow seemed to dim in its eyes.

Then, the creature turned and strode away to the south, in the direction Steve had gone.

"No-Steve-" Feeling a surge of alarm, John started after the Windigo, but Tokala grabbed his arm and held him back.

"You cannot go out there," the Lenape told him firmly. "Your weapons, your technology will not work against such a being."

"But Steve's out there-" John flung the words in his companions' face, feeling desperation overwhelm him. "I can't just leave him out there to face that-thing-alone-"

"It was his choice to leave the house, the circle," Tokala said calmly. "His choice to run. There is nothing you can do for him-"

And as Tokala said this, a shrill scream shattered the night air like glass. Not the Windigo's voice, John knew, but the fear-filled cry of a man in pain. A man on the brink of death-

"No-" John squirmed against his companion, but Tokala held him firmly in place. "No-let me go-"

"It's too late, " The Lenape told him. "There's nothing you can do-nothing you could do. The Windigo is beyond all but the most powerful."

That horrible cry came again, and John squeezed his eyes shut, curled his hands into fists and railed against his own helplessness, his own inability to save the man's life.

"You did all you could," Tokala told him gently, as he guided john back towards the house. "You are not to blame for any of this."

But John couldn't shake the echo of Steve's scream, not even when we was safely in the house again, with a door between him and the darkness.

Chapter Eight

"Did you hear that?" Scott turned to look at his brothers-their pale faces and wide eyes were all the answer he needed. And he knew full well what all of them were thinking, for he was thinking it himself:

That shrill cry was the death scream of a man. What if it was John? If something terrible had happened to their brother out there in the rain filled woods-

All three of them stood in stunned silence, staring blindly into the rainy night around them, as unmoving as statues.

Gordon was first to break the stasis, turning and hurrying forward into the darkness with grim determination. After a moment, Scott determinedly shook his morbid thoughts aside and followed him, Virgil bringing up the rear.

They hadn't gone more than a dozen yards when Gordon suddenly cried, "Hey, look! Over there-d'you see those lights?"

Looking where his brother pointed, Scott did indeed see a warm amber glow coming from ahead of them and slightly to the right.

"It looks like a house-"

"But why would there be a house clear out here in the middle of the woods?" Virgil asked

Scott shrugged. "Beats me-but let's go find out. Maybe-" he didn't finish, but he was sure they all knew what he was thinking. Maybe John and the others had found this house, maybe they were safely inside, away from whatever it was that had made that shrill scream-

As they drew closer, Scott saw that the house was small-nothing more than a kind of wooden cabin really. It sat within a circle of tall slender fir trees whose pungent smell filled the night air. Some detached part of his mind also noticed that the thunder was fading, the lightning strikes not nearly so frequent, The storm was passing-

"Hang on, Gordon-wait for us-" Scott called to his anxious brother, who was already entering the circle of trees. The aquanaut paused to let his brothers catch up, then they walked into the fragrant darkness of the grove together.

"What's that smell?" Virgil asked. "Smells familiar-"

"I think it's the trees," Scott began, but just then, the cabin's door opened and a familiar blonde haired figure limped out to meet them.

"John!" Gordon was first to enthusiastically greet his older brother, hugging him so hard that he nearly knocked him over. Scott quickly joined his brothers, aware that eh was grinning broadly. It felt as if a huge weight had slid off his shoulders-

"Hey, there, little bro." Scott grasped John's arms firmly. 'Glad to see you in one piece-"

"More or less," Johns aid a bit ruefully and now, Scott noticed that John was favoring his right leg. "But we're twice as glad to see you guys."

"So what happened to you?" Virgil asked, thumping john on the back. "Where'd you take off to? You know, John-" here he stepped back and Scott saw his brother's mouth curve into a mischievous grin. 'If you wanted to play hide and seek in the woods, it could've waited till we got these people back to safety."

John chuckled. "Right-I'll remember that-"

Then, two other people joined them-Scott realized they must be the people who had been trapped in the construction site. John introduced them around and for a few minutes, the night echoed to the sound of their voices.

Then, Scott remembered that awful cry he'd heard earlier. 'Um-John-did you guys hear that scream a few minutes ago?"

His brother's smile faded and he looked down at the ground. "Um-yeah-"

"We were worried it was you," Gordon said fervently. "We thought you were really hurt-or-" He shook his head unable to finish.

"So what was it, anyway?" Virgil asked the question that Scott was pondering as well. "In fact-you want to tell us what the heck happened here? How did you guys get so far from the construction site? And why did you come here? And who lives in this house anyway--?"

"Whoa-hold on!" Laughing a little, John held up his hands palms out. "One question at a time-" he broke off, and Scott noticed that he and Kendra exchanged a look thatseemed to say more than was apparent. Then, John added, "Look, there's a couple people you should meet-they can probably explain this to you better than I can-" he tuned towards the house, saying. "Tokala-Hanya-" His voice faltered here and died away into silence.

Kendra whispered, "What happened, anyway?"

John shook his head and when Scott looked at the cabin, he realized what had troubled his brother. The lights in the house had all gone out. Now, the only illumination in the clearing came from their potable halogen lights.

"That's weird." John limped towards the cabin. "Why would they put out the fire-" He called again. 'Tokala? Hanya?"

No answer. The darkened cabin was silent, still. Nothing moved anywhere close by.

John swore and began to run towards the cabin. "If something happened to them-"

"John-" Kendra limped after him. 'wait-"

"Hang on-" Scott hurried after them both, feeling a mixture of alarm and confusion. He caught up to John at the door. His brother stood, shoulders slumped, staring at the cabin, and in the faint glow from their lights, Scott saw that John's eyes were wide, his forehead furrowed in puzzlement,

"I-don't understand-" John said slowly. "What happened? What's it all mean?"

Quietly, Kendra said, "I don't know-"

Moving closer, Scott saw what they were talking about. The cabin, which had previously looked warm and welcoming, was now revealed to be nothing more than a ruin, a derelict. The front door hung askew, the windows had no glass in them, gaping like sightless eyes, and the wood was buckled and warped from the weather. When Scott looked upward, playing the beam of his light across the front of the cabin, he saw that the chimney was crumbled, the roof caved in.

"Impossible," John said softly. "We cant have been dreaming-can we?"

Kendra whispered something to him that Scott didn't hear and John nodded.

"Let's look inside anyway," he said, pushing the crooked door open. The hinges squeaked a shrill protest and the door swayed wildly.

Inside, their lights revealed that the one room cabin was wreck. There was no furniture left save a single rotting wooden chair by the door,. The floorboards were warped and buckling, and littered with shards of glass that glittered in the beam of light. Pieces of roof shingles, tree branches and pine needles carpeted the floor and the walls were cracked, the insulation between the boards long gone, leaving gaping openings through which the wind sighed like a mournful voice. A light spray of rain dripped down upon them through a gaping hole in the roof.

John shook his head, looked over at Kendra. "We did see them, didn't we?"

She nodded, her eyes shining wetly. "We did. And they did help us, John. And I think that's the best way to deal with this-is to remember that. Not-" She gestured at the ruined cabin around "Not this."

A moment longer they stood staring at the derelict cabin. Then, John sighed, his shoulders slumped and he turned away, grasping Kendra's arm gently. "Come on – let's get out of here."

"Boy, that was really strange." Gordon's voice was muffled from the depths of the towel he was using to dry his dripping hair.

"What part of it?" John asked, wincing as he propped his sore ankle up and began to dry his own hair.

"Well, all of it," his brother shot back, removing the towel and turning to face him. John had to bite back a grin-Gordon's damp auburn hair stood on end in places and his face was still smudged with dirt in places. "But the hover bikes-I don't understand that at all. First they worked, then they wouldn't work-and then when we got back to the clearing-they worked again." He whistled and shook his head. "Scott's never going to believe that."

"I'm not sure I'd believe it-if I hadn't been there," John got gingerly to his feet and tossed the towel to one side. "But at least now, the comm link is back on line. And maybe Brains can figure out what the deal was with the hover bikes once we get back to base."

"Maybe." Gordon was silent a moment, then turned and looked right at his brother. John could feel the curiosity in his brother's stare. "You know, you never told us who Tokala and Hanya were, John. Or what you were doing in that ruined cabin-"

John frowned-he had been trying really hard not to think about that. In fact, everything that had happened so far tonight was already starting to seem like a very vivid and bad dream.

I'd like to think that Tokala and Hanya were real- I'm sure they were-and yet-how can I explain that when we saw the cabin, it was intact and full of light and warmth--?

Still, Gordon was waiting for an answer. John opened his mouth, though he wasn't too certain what he was going to say.

But he was saved from saying anything for just then, Scott poked his head into the Pod and said, "Hey, John-there's someone out here who wants to talk to you a sec-"

"Be right there." John breathed a sigh of relief and limped out of the pod.

He half expected it to be Kendra and indeed, the auburn haired girl was waiting for him near the red console of Mobile Control. And with her was Dennis, the Lenape council member.

"Hey, John-" Kendra smiled wanly at him. "You look better. How's your ankle?"

"Still sore," he admitted, wincing. "I decided to wait till we get back to bandage it-I know if I take my boot off, it's gonna swell up like a balloon." He studied her face and his eyes widened. "What about you? Are you okay?"

"Yeah-" Her smile looked a trifle forced now and there was a strange brightness in her eyes. "Guess I'm a bit tired, that's all-"

"Excuse me," Dennis spoke up just then. "But I wanted you to know that the Lenape appreciate what you did out there tonight. " A pause, then he added, "Loren-is my nephew-I'm glad you were able to bring him back in one piece."

John shrugged. "All in a days' work for us. "

"Well, we appreciate it anyway. And you might want to know that we've been in touch with the construction company; they've promised to come and cart away the remains of those-structures-" Dennis' mouth twisted as if he'd tasted something bitter. "Now that you've uncovered the burial site there, we shouldn't have any trouble reclaiming the land for the Lenape."

"Good," John said fervently. "I'm glad-"

Dennis began to walk away, saying. 'Well, I'm sure you want to get back to your base-"

John debated with himself a moment, then limped after the councilman, saying,. "Um-can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." The Lenape stopped walking, turned to face him again, his expression quizzical. "What's on your mind?"

"Well-" John struggled to figure out how to say what he wanted to say, then finally settled for asking, "That cabin in the woods out there-not too far from the construction site-do you know who used to live there?"

"Cabin-" Dennis' forehead creased in thought a moment, then his expression cleared. 'Ah, yes-that small one room traditional house in the circle of juniper trees-"

"Juniper?" John asked, forgetting his original question for the moment. 'Is that what they were? They smelled so-different-"

"Yes-juniper-or white cedar, some people call 'em." He smiled. "A very powerful tree, some say. Has the power to ward off evil if you use it properly. We often burn it in some of our traditional ceremonies."

John nodded. 'I see. And the cabin-"

"Oh-yeah-that place has been empty a long time. It was built by a couple of traditional Lenape who wanted to live out away from the towns on our reserve. They lived there on off for about 20 years. They were a father and son-Hanya and Tokala-"

John felt his pulse begin to quicken and he had to struggle not to let his excitement show in his voice as he asked, "Do you know where they live now, then? Are they still around here--?"

"Well-" Dennis' shoulders lifted as he drew in a deep breath. "Not exactly. You see-Hanya and Tokala-have been dead for almost 30 years now."

John felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. 'Dead?" A sharp tingle crawled down his back. 'Um-how-did it happen?"

"Well-about 30-some years ago-they were on their way back from a powwow up in New England and they were hiking through the woods up there near that construction site-and they vanished. Never showed up at the council meeting that week-and no one ever saw 'em again.." He shook his head. "Eventually, the forest service found their bodies-mutilated and torn-several miles from the cabin. Everyone said it was a rogue bear-there's still some black bear that roam around once in awhile. Ever since then, the cabin's been empty."

"I see." John felt a pang twist in his chest-I never got to thank them, never got to say goodbye, he thought, feeling, unreasonably, the prick of tears in his eyes,. He rubbed them impatiently, stammered, "Um-thanks, Dennis.

And he quickly turned away before the councilman could say anything more.

Scott lit the candle in the carved jack o lantern that sat in the middle of the table in the lounge at the Tracy villa. "Lights please, Grandma," he called and she flipped the switch that turned off all the lights in the room. Now, there was only the faint amber glow from the candle that wavered and jumped in a slight draft from the open windows.

"Okay, then-are we all set?" Scott arched his eyebrows quizzically.

John shifted about on the love seat, propped his still aching ankle up onto a padded stool. 'Ready." He nodded his thanks as Gordon handed him a steaming mug of spiced cider.

"Ready here," Virgil said from behind the white piano.

"I'm ready," Gordon piped up, taking a seat beside John and exchanging a wink with his brother. John had told him something of the story on the ride home in TB 2 and he was waiting impatiently to hear the rest.

"Ready here," Alan's voice said from his portrait on the wall.

"Okay, then," Scot reclaimed control of the conversation. "Let the storytelling contest begin-" he reached for a spiced cookie as he spoke. "Who wants to begin?"

John raised his hand, grinning slightly, though he still couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of sadness when he thought about what had happened to Tokala and Hanya-and to Steve. And again, he heard Loren say: "They are windigo-they deserve what happens to them."

"John?" Scott frowned at his younger brother. "You never volunteer."

"First time for everything." John sipped at his cider and smiled., "And this time, I've got a whopper of a story for you-it's going to scare everyone out of their socks."

Scott chuckled and shook his head. "Well, as long it's not about alien abductions, I'm all ears." He snatched another cookie from the tray and settled down in a soft arm chair. "Go ahead, then, John."

"Well-" John began, looking around at his companions-his family and friends-their faces strangely shadows, eyes bright, in the wavering candlelight. He paused briefly to think about Kendra, to wish that she could be here. Anyhow, this is for you, he thought. And for Hanya and Tokala-wherever they are-

Then, he leaned forward a bit more, took another sip of his cider and said in a deep serious voice, "Okay, my story is about the Windigo..."