Part 8 (1/2)
”It was. We came up north to escape the persecution of the Spaniards and the white man. It took us a long time to find a suitable home, but this was it. We had a need to remain hidden until such time as we could prosper.”
”Has that happened yet?”
Joey shrugged. ”There's always the future to look forward to. Life on a reservation doesn't offer very many Native Americans a lot of hope. Crime's rampant. Kids drop out of school. It's a mess.”
”You lived on one?”
”Me? Nah. I visited a cousin one summer. It was all I could do to hope for September to hurry up and get there so I could come home and go back to school. Not the kind of place I'd choose to live, you know?”
”So you live here?”
”Sure. My grandfather takes care of me. My parents died in a car accident when I was really young.”
Annja ducked under a tree branch. The wind had died down some and she lowered her voice since shouting wasn't necessary anymore. ”I'm sorry to hear that.”
”Yeah, well, I didn't really know them. It makes me sad to think of them sometimes, but my grandfather is all the family I need. Him and the animals who live here.”
”I don't blame you. I never knew my parents, either.” She nodded at the trail. ”You really know your way all over these parts?”
”Yep. I've been running around here for about five years now. My grandfather insists I come out here to practice my skills so they aren't lost. He was a scout for his tribe when he was young.”
”That must have been a long time ago.”
Joey nodded. ”Yep.”
”And he taught you how to do all of this stuff? The tracking? The stalking? All of it?”
Joey paused and studied the ground. ”Skills like that are what made my people such a tough enemy. They're also what protected us when we needed them. My grandfather says it's my duty to ensure they never die out. When I have a son, I'll teach them to him, as well. Just the way it goes, I guess. Stuff gets pa.s.sed on this way like it has for hundreds, maybe thousands, of years.”
”Incredible,” Annja said. ”You're very lucky to have someone like your grandfather in your life.”
”Yep, he's pretty cool. He once walked from Alaska to South America. He called it the spirit journey where he learned how to beat his own limitations. Eventually, I'll probably do something similar. Kind of a rite of pa.s.sage for my tribe.”
”How many of you are left?”
Joey ran his hands over the ground. ”Your friend pa.s.sed this way about an hour ago.”
”Really?”
Joey glanced at Annja. ”She's stumbling, though. You see how her footprints are staggered? There's not a rhythm to them anymore. She's in danger, most likely from the wind and the rain.”
”You're certain these tracks were made about an hour ago?”
”I might be off by fifteen minutes or so, given the degradation of the track from the weather, but yes, it's pretty accurate.”
”Can you find her?”
Joey frowned. ”Be a lot easier if she was in better shape. As it is, she'll be unpredictable. Her footwork will make it tough to follow her along a set course. In her state she might easily stumble and fall and we'd never find her.”
”We've got to try,” Annja said. ”Lead the way.”