Part 15 (2/2)

”Another time,” Deem said. ”I'll come down when the mess I'm in is over. And that's a birthday present to you, personally, not an exchange with your mom for the alocutis. I'll repay her for that separately.”

”She'll be shocked you got me this,” Erin said, staring down into the small box. ”I can't believe it either.”

Deem smiled, glad that her present was appreciated. I guess it was worth what I went through to get it, she thought.

”We've got to run,” Deem said. ”Say hi to your mom for me.”

”I will,” Erin said, still staring down into the box.

Deem leaned forward to give Erin a goodbye hug and walked back to the Jeep. Winn opened his arms to give her a hug too.

”Happy birthday again,” he said as he wrapped her up in his arms. When he let her go she was a little flushed.

”Thank you,” Erin said, smiling broadly.

Winn returned to the Jeep and they took off for Indian Springs.

”Well, that seemed to go over well,” Winn said.

”You didn't grope her during that hug, did you?” Deem asked.

”So suspicious! You've really got to trust me more.”

”I would if I didn't know you better.”

An hour later they reached Indian Springs, a small town dwarfed by the air force base it sat next to. Awan's modest house was at the edge of town. As Awan saw them pull in, he came out of his house with a large backpack, threw it into the back of Winn's Jeep, and jumped into the back seat.

”You know the way?” Awan asked Winn.

”Straight up 95?” Winn asked back.

”Yes,” Awan answered, ”about two hundred and fifty miles. Then we turn off and go another fifty.”

”So if we're lucky,” Deem said, ”We'll make it by two.”

”Plenty of time,” Awan said.

”You've been there before?” Winn asked. ”Inside Broken Hills?”

”Once, many years ago as a kid,” Awan said. ”We should be able to get in and out within an hour once we're there.”

”Broken Hills isn't downwind,” Deem said. ”Right?”

”Correct,” Awan said. ”No zombighosts, just the regular old fas.h.i.+oned kind.”

”Refres.h.i.+ng,” Winn said. ”Haven't been around normal ghosts in a while.”

”It's a different experience when you don't have to worry about your skin being ripped off,” Awan said.

”We've got a couple of things we need to discuss with you,” Deem said. ”First, we need to head back as early as possible tomorrow. Some things that I need to get done tomorrow back home.”

”We can leave as early as you want,” Awan said.

”Second, how much do you know about how to kill a skinrunner?”

Awan furrowed his brow. ”It's come to that?” he asked.

”Turns out the object Eliza sent us only worked twice,” Deem said. ”I used it on myself and my aunt. We're both fine, but now my mother has become infected, and the object is finished. So unless I want to spend the rest of my life cutting bone fragments out of her arm, we've got to find a way to shut him down completely.”

”That'll be tricky,” Awan said. ”And dangerous. But there is a way.”

”How?” Winn asked.

”Well,” Awan began, ”with a regular skinwalker, there were two traditional ways. If a victim could find out the skinwalker's ident.i.ty, he only needed to speak the full name of the skinwalker to kill him, or to cause him to leave you alone. If you weren't a victim, they say you can kill one with a bullet dipped in white ash.

”But with the mutations this shaman is creating, things are different. You've already seen how fast he can run and fly while remaining a man. The way you kill him is different, too. Just saying his name isn't good enough. You have to get the loved one he killed to say his name. It's more powerful, and it seems to work.”

”The loved one he killed to become a skinrunner in the first place?” Winn asked.

”Yes,” Awan said.

”How the f.u.c.k are we going to do that?” Deem asked.

”You'll have to do some research and get a name,” Awan said. ”It's no good without the name of the person they killed.”

”If we get a name,” Deem said, ”then what?”

”If you can find something that belonged to the killer or the victim, and you have the name, my sister can help locate them,” Awan offered.

”I've got something he's touched,” Deem said, thinking of the bankers boxes she'd taken from the skinrunner's garage.

”But even if we know who he killed, there's a bigger problem,” Winn said. ”They're dead. They can't speak. Not with a real voice.”

”That's why I said it was tricky,” Awan replied. ”There's only two things I know of that can make a ghost corporeal. The first is whatever this mutation is that turns them into zombighosts. You won't be able to deal with the result of that, they're too irrational when they turn they just want to attack. So that approach is out. The second way is something very rare. Have you ever heard of the Rivers of Statera?”

Winn looked at Deem. They both shrugged. ”No,” Winn said.

”There's a couple of places in the River,” Awan said, ”where these waters run. They're sometimes called blood rivers. They only exist in the River, you can't see them any other way.”

”What are they?” Deem asked.

”No one knows for sure,” Awan said. ”There are gifteds who have tried to figure them out. Some people think they're a symbolic representation of the blood shed of innocent people, but no one's been able to prove that.”

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