Ancient Forces Collection Read Online Free PDF Page B

bird.
    Karahhh . . . Karahhh . . .
    No, that was no bird. And he was nearly on top of it.
    He had reached the side of the road when he saw it. Something in the shadows. Something big. And it was moving!
    “I knew you’d come.”
    Ryan let out a gasp as Little Creek stepped into the moonlight.
    “You scared me half to death!” Ryan exclaimed.
    Little Creek smiled, his white teeth gleaming in the light. “I summoned you the Indian way, and you came. You have the heart of an initiate.”
    “A what?”
    “A potential brave. I have seen that you are someone who may truly understand and appreciate the ways of my people. I want to show you someplace special. Will you come with me?”
    Something told Ryan to refuse. It was like someone tugging at his mind — a kind of warning. But Little Creek seemed so excited . . . Before he knew it, Ryan was nodding. “Yeah. Sure.”
    Again Little Creek smiled. Without another word, he turned and started down the path. Ryan joined him.
    An hour later they were walking past Dark Bear’s holy place, the location of the avalanche. Ryan felt a slight chill as he looked down at the pile of rock and stone. Instinctively, he glanced up to the peak where he had seen the man with the horns, but no one was there. Maybe no one ever had been.
    “This way,” Little Creek called as he disappeared into some tall weeds.
    Ryan turned off the road and followed.
    “Be careful — the ground drops off here.”
    Ryan was grateful for the warning as the ground began such a sudden slope that he had to struggle to keep his balance.
    At last Little Creek called out, “Over here.”
    Ryan looked up to see the boy standing at the entrance to a small cave.
    “It looks small now,” Little Creek said, “but after a few feet inside you can stand up.”
    Once again Ryan felt that small tug, that sense of caution, of warning. And once again, he brushed it aside. What was wrong with checking out a cave?
    “Come on.” Little Creek motioned for Ryan to follow him inside. Ryan obeyed. He had to stoop to enter. Immediately, he felt a coolness — a good fifteen to twenty degrees cooler than outside. What’s more, it was pitch-black. Fortunately Little Creek had a small flashlight, and its light reflected off the walls and ceiling. The walls rose rapidly, and after half a dozen steps Ryan was able to stand.
    “How far does this thing go?” he asked.
    “A very long way,” Little Creek replied. “This, too, is a holy place, so I must ask you not to show it to anyone. I’m showing it to you because I believe you have the mind to understand.”
    Ryan felt himself swell a little with pride. This was quite an honor Little Creek was bestowing on him. What other secrets did he have to share?
    After several more feet, Little Creek finally came to a stop. “Over there,” he said, motioning with his flashlight. “Look at that wall.”
    Ryan caught his breath. On the near wall was a crude painting of an Indian brandishing a long spear and stalking a buffalo. The painting could have been a thousand years old.
    “This was painted by my ancestors,” Little Creek said in almost a whisper. “We don’t know when, but legend says the brave in the
painting is Dark Bear’s great-great-grandfather.”
    Ryan whistled softly. “It looks even older than that,” he said quietly.
    Little Creek chuckled. “Not if you believe the other legend.”
    “Other legend?”
    “That, like Dark Bear, his grandfathers before him each lived to be a thousand years old.”
    Ryan looked at Little Creek. “They . . . what?”
    Little Creek shrugged. “It’s not impossible. Doesn’t the Bible talk about people living that long?”
    “Well . . . yes, but — ”
    “So if it’s in the Bible, it’s possible, isn’t it?”
    Ryan nodded slowly. He wasn’t sure he believed Little Creek, but he didn’t want to argue. After all, he was in a cave in the middle of the New Mexico desert, looking at a painting that was made thousands of years