Read Online Darkwind: Ancient Enemy 2 by Mark Lukens - Free Book Online
Authors: Mark Lukens
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nitrite gloves and shoved his hands into them. He followed the Navajo police officers and Agent Klein into the small house.
The place was neat inside, tastefully decorated in southwestern décor. But it didn’t look immaculate … it looked lived in, a real family’s home.
“Who called this in?” Begay asked as they stood in the middle of the living room.
“Awenita,” the officer answered. “She wasn’t getting a hold of them for a few days. Said she wanted to drive over here to make sure they were okay. She said she was getting a bad feeling. She rang the doorbell and knocked on the door but they weren’t answering even though both of their vehicles were parked outside. She has a spare set of keys so she let herself in. She found them back there in the bedroom.” He gestured at a short hallway.
Begay walked down the hall to the last bedroom. Palmer and Klein followed him. They all entered the bedroom and Begay moved to the side to allow the two agents inside.
Palmer could already smell the decaying bodies before he even stepped foot inside the bedroom—it was the same smell from the cave, the smell of death that seemed to get trapped inside his nose for a few days afterwards. He smelled the rot, the urine, and the feces. The stench wasn’t quite as overpowering as the cave had been, but it was close. These two bodies had been closed up in this bedroom for at least two days now, he guessed. Maybe three days.
“Holy shit,” Klein said.
Palmer had his cell phone out, ready to snap some photos.
It was a little hard to tell who was who because of the mutilations, but judging from their clothing, the man they called John was sprawled out on the bed, face-down. He was partially clothed, one foot had a sock on it and the other was bare. It seemed like half of his shirt and part of his jeans had been torn away. The blankets underneath his body were soaked with blood, especially underneath his head which had been stripped completely of skin and hair.
His wife was a short and portly woman. She was face-down on the floor, the carpet soaked in blood that had turned dark over time. She too was clothed but it looked like parts of her clothing had been torn away from her body. She didn’t have her shoes on and her feet were purplish in color, one of them more purplish than the other because it looked like it had been twisted around in the wrong direction, her toes pointing up even though she was face-down. Like her husband, the woman’s head was completely skinned; all of the skin and hair gone, leaving only the red glistening meat behind.
Palmer felt another wave of nausea wash over him as he snapped a few photos. The little click-click sound from his phone when he snapped a photo was beginning to get on his nerves now. He wished he’d taken that drink in the car on the way here.
“They’ve been scalped,” Klein said.
“Rounded,” Begay corrected. He pulled a white handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and held it over his nose and mouth. There were already a few flies buzzing around the corpses, some of them bouncing off the glass of the bedroom window that was mostly covered with a sheer curtain.
“Rounded?” Palmer asked.
“Instead of scalping, some tribes used to skin the whole head and scalp, all at the same time. It was called ‘rounding.’”
“Navajos did that?” Klein asked and his words seemed to drip with accusation.
“No,” Begay answered, staring at him.
Palmer sighed. “Why don’t you go check the other rooms?” Palmer told Klein.
Klein hesitated and Palmer thought the agent was going to buck him, but then he left the room without another word.
“This isn’t a robbery,” Begay said in a low voice.
“I know,” Palmer answered. “This doesn’t make sense,” he whispered more to himself than to Begay. He took more photos and moved closer to the woman on the floor, crouching down beside her. He looked at Begay. “Did your officer find their faces anywhere? Their
The place was neat inside, tastefully decorated in southwestern décor. But it didn’t look immaculate … it looked lived in, a real family’s home.
“Who called this in?” Begay asked as they stood in the middle of the living room.
“Awenita,” the officer answered. “She wasn’t getting a hold of them for a few days. Said she wanted to drive over here to make sure they were okay. She said she was getting a bad feeling. She rang the doorbell and knocked on the door but they weren’t answering even though both of their vehicles were parked outside. She has a spare set of keys so she let herself in. She found them back there in the bedroom.” He gestured at a short hallway.
Begay walked down the hall to the last bedroom. Palmer and Klein followed him. They all entered the bedroom and Begay moved to the side to allow the two agents inside.
Palmer could already smell the decaying bodies before he even stepped foot inside the bedroom—it was the same smell from the cave, the smell of death that seemed to get trapped inside his nose for a few days afterwards. He smelled the rot, the urine, and the feces. The stench wasn’t quite as overpowering as the cave had been, but it was close. These two bodies had been closed up in this bedroom for at least two days now, he guessed. Maybe three days.
“Holy shit,” Klein said.
Palmer had his cell phone out, ready to snap some photos.
It was a little hard to tell who was who because of the mutilations, but judging from their clothing, the man they called John was sprawled out on the bed, face-down. He was partially clothed, one foot had a sock on it and the other was bare. It seemed like half of his shirt and part of his jeans had been torn away. The blankets underneath his body were soaked with blood, especially underneath his head which had been stripped completely of skin and hair.
His wife was a short and portly woman. She was face-down on the floor, the carpet soaked in blood that had turned dark over time. She too was clothed but it looked like parts of her clothing had been torn away from her body. She didn’t have her shoes on and her feet were purplish in color, one of them more purplish than the other because it looked like it had been twisted around in the wrong direction, her toes pointing up even though she was face-down. Like her husband, the woman’s head was completely skinned; all of the skin and hair gone, leaving only the red glistening meat behind.
Palmer felt another wave of nausea wash over him as he snapped a few photos. The little click-click sound from his phone when he snapped a photo was beginning to get on his nerves now. He wished he’d taken that drink in the car on the way here.
“They’ve been scalped,” Klein said.
“Rounded,” Begay corrected. He pulled a white handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and held it over his nose and mouth. There were already a few flies buzzing around the corpses, some of them bouncing off the glass of the bedroom window that was mostly covered with a sheer curtain.
“Rounded?” Palmer asked.
“Instead of scalping, some tribes used to skin the whole head and scalp, all at the same time. It was called ‘rounding.’”
“Navajos did that?” Klein asked and his words seemed to drip with accusation.
“No,” Begay answered, staring at him.
Palmer sighed. “Why don’t you go check the other rooms?” Palmer told Klein.
Klein hesitated and Palmer thought the agent was going to buck him, but then he left the room without another word.
“This isn’t a robbery,” Begay said in a low voice.
“I know,” Palmer answered. “This doesn’t make sense,” he whispered more to himself than to Begay. He took more photos and moved closer to the woman on the floor, crouching down beside her. He looked at Begay. “Did your officer find their faces anywhere? Their
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