Yee Naaldlooshi - Skinwalker
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by Gunnar Angel Lawrence
Terry noticed the quick blink of the computer screen when the email arrived. It seemed odd, he thought, but then again it was the end of a long day at work and he made the conscious decision to ignore the email until the next day. He eyed Christina as she got up from her desk and stretched. Her long blond hair cascaded over her shoulders and to her back. She looked at him and smiled broadly, it was time to go home. Terry got lost for a moment in her ice blue eyes and looked downward quickly.
“I know there’s a song called, ‘Its Five O Clock somewhere’ but let me make it official, and it’s time to go home.” Terry said with a smile. Christina lifted both arms into the air and gave a celebratory ‘yay’.
“Christina, call Scott up here, tell him we get paid this week, not a lot, but enough to eat for a few days anyway.” She smiled and pushed the intercom button and relayed the message. Terry opened the drawer picked the two checks out and slammed the drawer shut. The computer screen blinked once and Terry noticed that somehow the email had opened. He looked at the first line and swore.
Christina turned and noticed the expression on Terry’s face.
“No! Terry what is it?”
Scott lumbered into the room and knew that something wasn’t right.
“Wh—What’s wrong, guys?” he asked.
Terry sighed and handed them their checks. Then he summarized the email.
“The package we got from Show Low, Arizona, the one for the new casino? There is an issue. An Indian man is claiming it was stolen from an ancient burial site. He is on his way here now from the airport.”
“That’s bullshit! I know I paid for that piece from Andy, he’s a reputable dealer. I’ve bought from him before.” She said.
“I know that Christina, please do me a favor, find the paperwork on that piece and give the dealer a call for me, he is going to be here in less than an hour. Scott hang around, you’re bigger than I am and I might need someone to take out an elderly Indian for me.” Scott grinned and nodded.
Terry’s company found and acquired rare pieces for private collections, hotels, casinos and the occasional museum. The new casino in Miami had asked for interesting Indian décor. Unfortunately, few genuine Indian artifacts were found anymore in Florida that didn’t already have the name of a casino stamped on them. This piece was found in Navajo territory in a backwater community called Show Low.
Terry watched Christina lean against her desk with a sigh, her paperwork in hand. They were all very aware of the financial difficulties their company had been having since the recession started. And they all knew that a delay with the selling of this piece to the casino would mean a delay in cashing their next checks. He cleared his throat and pretended not to watch her stretch again. He knew that she knew that he liked her; there was just never the right moment. It wasn’t too much longer before a truck pulled up to the office. They heard the squeal of the brakes and all three bolted for the door. The delivery driver heaved his overweight frame out of the truck and shoved the small box and a clipboard into Terry’s hands. Terry took the box and signed the form on the clipboard.
The driver, Lenny, nodded with relief.
“Now you can deal with the Chief here, He’s followed me all day.”
Terry glanced over to where he pointed and saw the long white car pull to a stop behind the truck. The man who stepped out could have been in his seventies, but there was a strength about him that was conveyed with swift, firm movements. His bronzed skin seemed to glisten in the humid Florida afternoon. He strode over and waved good bye to the delivery driver who was moving as quick as his girth would allow.
The old man called after the delivery driver.
“Get out of here now sir, it is very important.” Lenny nodded and climbed into his van from the rear.
Terry watched the old man turned and focused on him.
“My name is Ata Halne. I am begging you not to open that package. We need to get inside, before the sun sets, it is coming.”
Terry smiled, “Mr. Halne…
“No! My name is Ata Halne, I don’t have time for explanations out here, we have maybe ten minutes before the sun sets. Get inside now please.”
Terry stared back at Scott and Christina and they appeared to be as confused as he was. All three of them backed into the building and shut the door. Ata Halne reached over, bolted the door and slid the bar lock in place. He turned toward them and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Now, are there any open windows, barred or not, and are there any other entrances to this building?” He moved closer and they backed up. Christina, normally not one to take attitude, especially when she was ready to leave, was not speaking. She was gripping Scott’s hand with enough intensity to cause him to wince.
“Mr. Halne…” Terry started.
“I said my name was Ata Halne, now answer the question.”
“Okay fine. No there are no other doors, no windows on this floor….”
The old man pointed at Scott, “You, go shut the windows on the other floor now.” Scott hesitated, and looked at Terry, who nodded.
“Hey, we paid for that package and we got it from someone who has always been honest with us. What is your beef with this package?” Terry demanded.
The old man lifted his calloused finger and pointed it straight at Terry’s face. Unwavering, he held the finger there and spoke.
“Anasazi.”
II
The word rolled off the man’s tongue with a cold trill. Terry felt a chill shoot through him when he heard it, though he had no idea what the word meant. The old man repeated himself.
“Anasazi. What you have in that package is Anasazi.”
Christina cleared her throat, still hesitant to approach the old man and spoke, “Anasazi, that’s Navajo legend right?”
The old man stared at her, “Funny thing about legends, a lot of them tend to have some element of truth to them. For the Anasazi, even the legend doesn’t cover how evil and how real they are.”
Terry looked at Christina, who had become something of an expert in Indian artifacts in a short time.
“Chris, I’m at a loss here, what is Anasazi?”
She grinned cautiously. “They’re spooks, ghosts, witches; he’s keeping us here for a damn ghost story.”
Ata Halne raised his finger to her and the cautious grin retreated from her face. “You are about to find out how much of a ghost story the Anasazi are.” He turned to Scott who had just returned from upstairs. “Are those windows shut and locked?” Scott nodded.
The old man turned to the door and reached into a small leather pouch hanging from his belt and pulled a white powder from the bag. He tossed the powder against the door with some low chanting.
Terry had finally had enough. “All right, Mr. Halne, whoever you are, we’ve had enough. It’s time you get going.” He walked over to the door and began to pull on the bar lock. And that’s when he noticed the door knob slowly turning.
“It’s here.” Ata Halne muttered.
Maybe it was the cold way in which he spoke; maybe it was just the sight of the door knob turning as he reached to open it. Whatever it was, Terry stopped and backed away from the door. Christina and Scott were behind him and shuffled over to the door. The knock came loudly and insistently, echoing inside the room making it seem as if it had come from seven different directions.
The three of them stood behind Ata Halne, their eyes focused on that twisting, turning knob. A muffled cry came from the other side of the door.
“Terry! Can you come out here please?” they recognized the voice of the delivery driver and Terry laughed slightly.
“Oh shit, Ata, you really had us going there. But seriously it’s time for you to leave. I need to see what he wants.”
Ata Halne lifted his hand and placed it on his shoulder. “If you open that door, he will kill you, your friends and me.”
“It’s just Lenny, he’s an asshole but he isn’t going to kill anyone.” Terry moved toward the door and was stopped again by the Old Man who shook his head.
“Lenny is dead, because he didn’t listen to me. What stands out there now is the Yee Naaldlooshii, a Skinwalker.”
Christina giggled. “So what old man, you’re saying Lenny is a werewolf? Terry, let’s go home.” She gave the old man a look of disbelief and walked over to Terry.
Terry looked at her puzzled.
“The Yee Naaldlooshii, skinwalkers, they are suppose to use Anasazi magic to wear animal skins and become whatever animal they want to. They are early werewolf legends, but they turn into more than just wolves. It’s magic bullshit.”
The old man walked past Christina to the window and pointed outside. “Can you see him, out there, in the shadows, are you sure it is Lenny?”
She moved to the window and nodded, “Yes, Lenny is right there, plain as day. He’s standing next to his truck.”
“And how far is that from the door here?” the old man asked.
Christina shrugged, “About fifteen to twenty feet.”
The old man nodded, “I see, so how is it exactly, that Lenny is turning the door knob on your door from twenty feet away?”
Christina then turned to look at the knob, and back to the figure in the dark. The Indian was right, the knob was still moving. Her face grew pale as she backed away from the window. Terry made his way over to the window and peered outside. The overweight shadowy figure rocked back and forth on his heels in the shadows, and he was indeed too far away to be turning the knob. Terry tried to speak but felt a lump form in his throat.
Seeing he had their attention, the old man said, “Call him closer, but don’t touch the door.”
Christina called out, “Hey Lenny, come on over here.”
‘Lenny’ moved deftly for a fat man and walked briefly into the light that shown from the roof of the building. When ‘Lenny’ looked up, the old man touched Christina’s shoulder. “Look at his eyes.”
She saw “Lenny’s” eyes glow a fierce yellow and gasped. “Lenny” seemed to hear her and stepped back into the shadows swiftly.
Her eyes widened, she looked to the old man.
“When the Yee Naaldlooshii are in human form, their eyes glow at night, like an animals. When they are in animal form, their eyes do not glow like an animals’ should. Like I said, your friend Lenny is dead.”
The tears formed in her eyes quickly as she realized that the old man was telling the truth. Scott was yelling.
“Bullshit, no this is bullshit!” he tore his cap from his head and tossed it to the ground. Terry looked out the window, then back at the old man.
Ata Halne spoke, “If you had told me when I was your age, that I could sit at a desk here in Florida and type something that would be seen in Arizona, or any other part of the world instantly, I would have said it was bullshit. Today, you call it email.”
Terry glanced out the window and addressed Ata Halne. “What the fuck is in that box, old man?”
He opened his mouth to speak and that is when the pounding began. It was as if two massive invisible fists beat the metallic walls. The walls shook with each hit. Christina screamed and ran to Terry. Scott looked up as the pounding escalated, now the roof was being pummeled. The pounding continued as Ata Halne began sprinkling the white powder toward the window.
He turned toward the three and began to speak, hesitated, and started again.
“Short version. The Anasazi control very dark magic, there are very few of them left. The amulet inside that box belonged to a chief among the Anasazi, he was said to have consorted with demons. When he died, his house was burned and his charms were buried on sacred ground. It was buried in a tomb on sacred burial grounds where Anasazi cannot go. When the honest person you bought it from found it, he had no idea what it was. The Skinwalker wants this amulet, to help him consort with demons and gain the power that comes with it.”
Terry shook his head. The pounding suddenly ceased. They stared up briefly and Terry spoke.
“So why didn’t he get it in Arizona? Why wait until it got here?”
“The Skinwalker has no power when the sun is in the sky. The amulet was removed from the protection of the sacred grounds and was on a plane bound for here before the sun fell. A Skinwalker is fast, but cannot keep up with a plane.”
Scott, recovered from his earlier fit, now asked, “So what do we do now?”
The old man leaned in, “Are you sure those windows are shut tight?”
“Shit!” Scott yelled and rushed upstairs.
Terry watched Scott go and faced Ata Halne, “So about his question, what do we do now?”
The old man sighed, “The amulet needs to be returned to sacred ground. It needs to be buried and this,” he reached down into his leather pouch to pull out some white powder, “this needs to be sprinkled on top of the burial place. Preferably, it should be sprinkled in the form of a circle. The Yee Naaldlooshii will not be able to enter sacred ground in Skinwalker form, and will not be able to reach the amulet shielded by the white ash in human form. One more thing, their power they get from fear, the fear you feel now, fuels the Skinwalker outside. Pretty soon, he will be strong enough to get in.”
Scott shook his head. “No, no damn it, we paid for that thing. No shit-face Indian monster is gonna take it. I’m getting the Judge.”
Terry agreed. Scott disappeared into his office and returned a moment later, the massive three inch barrel weapon at his side.
It was Ata Halne’s turn to be confused. “Judge?” he asked.
Terry pointed and explained, “Scott’s judge is a 45 long colt. He’s gonna blast the shit out of your Skinwalker.”
“No weapon will have an effect on the Skinwalker. All he’s going to do is make a hole big enough for it to get in the building. Unless…” he approached Scott who held the Judge in his hand.
“Scott, are those hollow points?” Ata Halne asked. Scott nodded. “Please, let me see them.” Ata Halne asked. Scott looked at Terry and Christina, removed the bullets and handed them to the old man.
The old man packed his white powder into the hollow points and stood them up on the desk next to him. He pulled out a flask and wet the powder in each bullet with the liquid inside.
When he saw the three looking at him, he shrugged, “Whiskey, it will keep the ash from flying out while the bullet travels.”
Terry pointed at the Indian’s pouch, “Ash? What does that do?”
The Indian patted the pouch and handed the bullets back to Scott.
“This ash is the white ash of a sacred tree. The branches of the tree are capable of killing the Yee Naaldlooshi, but only in his human form. Sharpen a branch, pierce the skin. When the Yee Naaldlooshi is strongest in animal form, not even sacred tree can kill him, but the ashes of part of the sacred tree branches can cause it great pain.”
“So, this ash can kill it then?”
The Indian shrugged, “It is possible. I’ve have only heard of one Skinwalker that was successfully hit with a bullet. He was three feet away when the bullet struck him. It didn’t affect him and he killed the man that shot him.”
Scott heard the last part and hesitated, staring down at the Judge. He looked at Terry, then at Christina and approached the window. He glanced briefly and turned inside.
“Guys, he’s gone.”
All of them gathered around Scott, and looked out the window. The delivery truck was still where Lenny had parked it. But “Lenny” was no longer in sight. The absence of the pounding from the outside now screamed at them in silence.
Ata Halne pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Terry. He placed his hand on Terry’s shoulder and spoke.
“We do not have much time; this is the location of the closest true sacred ground to us. It is behind a house several miles from here. If your gun does not work, and it won’t, you must bury this in the center of the enclosed area behind the house. This house was built on the site of a great chief’s dwelling.”
Terry stopped him, “Whoa wait. What about you?”
The old man reached into his pocket and pulled out another leather pouch handing it to Terry. “We don’t have much time, left. Take the amulet and when I say go, you go.”
“What about that thing out there?” Terry asked.
Ata Halne gave Terry a grim look, “It’s not out there anymore, it is in here with us.”
Christina screamed and pulled close to Scott. They pulled together in the center of the room, their eyes darting to and fro in the room.
Ata Halne began speaking.
“Remember, the Skinwalker can appear to be anyone or anything or any size. Do not let each other out of your sight. It can take your appearance, and your voice, but it won’t have your memories. It will try to stop you from completing the burial, in human form; the Skinwalker has all the strength of any human, but is cunning. You have the map; you must go and do this.”
A high pitched wail rose from the corners of the room and the lights snapped off. Scott yelled, “Shit!” Terry’s hands grasped around in the darkness and pulled at the arms closest to him. He felt Christina trembling and Scott, arms extended waving the Judge around in the darkness. From the darkness came Ata Halne’s cry, “Go, all of you. Go now!”
He cried out in pain and screamed in Navajo. The three bolted in the general direction of the front door and stumbled over the unseen desks and chairs in their path. Terry still clung to the box and fumbled in his pocket for the car keys. They heard Ata Halne grunt and an unearthly screech pierce the night.
They made it to Terry’s car, scrambled in and locked the doors. While Terry fumbled with quaking hands to get the key in to the ignition, Christina looked back at the doorway and shrieked, pointing. Ata Halne stumbled out of the office and raised his hands. She grabbed Terry’s arm and squeezed. He watched the old man approach the vehicle. An odd grin was on his face and he began to beckon to them. Terry stuck the key in and turned, nothing happened.
“Oh shit!” He turned the key again, the engine clicked.
Ata Halne came closer and smiled. He reached his hands around the back of his neck and pulled. His face collapsed inward, blood poured from his eyes, mouth and nose as the flesh mask fell forward.
Click click
Scott pointed the Judge at the gruesome sight aimed, and pulled the trigger. The explosion roared in their ears as they saw the creature reel back from the impact. The remains of Ata Halne’s flesh fell from around the creature. It was more shadow than substance, and turned its glowing yellow eyes toward the car as it fell to the ground.
Click, click, the car engine roared to life as the creature stretched out its hand. Scott raised the Judge and fired four more times. The creature cried out as each round struck home. Terry slammed the car into ‘Drive’ and punched the accelerator. With a swift turn of the wheel he drove over the creature writhing on the ground.
There was a slight shudder as the rear wheel spun off the slick bloody mass that was once Ata Halne. It was only now that Terry noticed that Christina had been screaming, he spun the car around and they sat and watched the quivering mass on the ground. With their ears still ringing from the gunshots, and from the screaming, they didn’t hear Scott speak the first time. Terry turned when he saw Scott’s mouth moving and asked, “What?”
“Is it dead?” he yelled back.
Terry shook his head, “I don’t know.” Tears ran down Christina’s face as she reached up and removed hair from her eyes with quaking fingers. The creature shuddered. With eyes locked onto ‘it’, the trio waited. They barely breathed as they watched it raise a misshapen arm from the pile of flesh and begin to push itself upwards.
“Damn it! I’m out of bullets. Hit it again, Terry.”
“No, we’re getting out of here.”
Terry yanked the wheel to the right and headed toward the highway at full speed. They stared back at the creature that was now stumbling to its feet, standing over Scott's corpse. They were doing eighty when the creature finally disappeared from view.
Each of them were panting heavily and remained silent for several minutes. Terry wiped the sweat from his brow and pressed harder on the accelerator. Neither of them realized how many hours they were driving before they finally came to the turn off the old man had indicated. They pulled in, exhausted. And Terry got out of the car.
III
Terry watched Scott get out of the car. He could tell that Scott was nervous, more because of the expression on his face as he stared straight ahead at the house in the distance than because of any words he used. Scott gave him a familiar nod of the head in the direction of the odd house and stepped away from the car. Terry turned to walk toward Christina when it hit. The blur leapt over the rear of the car with a deafening wail and landed on Scott’s back. Terry heard the strained gurgle as Scott fell to the ground with a thud. His neck had been torn open in one swift move, the blood exploding outward hitting Terry and Christina. She screamed as Scott hit the ground and began pulling and clawing at Terry to run. They stumbled away from their friend and headed toward the only cover available. The house.
Christine reached the door first, slamming her body against it with full force; the door gave as they burst into the room. Terry was a half second behind but still managed to get in her way when she tried to slam the door shut. With trembling fingers, she bolted the door and fastened the chain. Then she noticed the blood on her hand, her clothes and face. She began shaking. They had heard it coming; the warm moist breath it expelled with each step seemed to reach the backs of their necks even at a hundred yards. That panting might as well have been the creature laughing at them, for all the effort it expended in killing their friend and chasing them down. As Terry looked at Christina, they both realized that the only reason they made it to the house, was because Scott didn’t.
‘The old Indian had been right.’ Terry thought to himself. ‘Here we were, the young smart professionals with no time for ancient magic bullshit being chased by a homicidal magic creature.’ He winced at the irony and cursed the damned email that started it all, just a few short hours ago.
Christina shivered as she wrapped her arms around Terry’s neck and wept. The house was deserted and there were several more hours before sun rise. She buried her face in his chest and he embraced her. He kissed the top of her head, and said, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” She nodded silently. Terry kissed her again and guided her away from the front door. After a few moments, Terry took the amulet from his pocket where he had stashed it just in case, and examined it. It wasn’t anything spectacular; it appeared to be made of wood and turquoise with some gold pieces dangling from the center.
The wind whipped up outside the door, but there was no banging. There were no scratches at the window and no pounding on the roof. Terry pocketed the amulet and peeked out the window. On this moonless, starless night little was visible save the glow of the nearby city that lit up the hills and horizon around it.
A rap on the back wall caused him to jump. He looked over at Christina; her head buried in her hands and decided to check out the noise. The room appeared to be the den of a hunter or outdoors enthusiast. Mounting boards lined the wall with distorted heads of long departed animals. Terry approached what appeared to be a fire place and wondered if anything could get in.
He heard a rustle behind him and turned. Christina stood in the shadows, and he could see her shaking.
“I’m scared, Terry.”
He nodded and came to her side.
“I know. Me too.”
“Hold me, Terry.” She brushed her chest against his sending his heart rate skyrocketing. He placed his hand at the small of her back and squeezed.
“Always, Christina, always.”
Her hands fell to his waist and pulled him in tighter.
“Why couldn’t we just toss the damned thing out there and let it go away. Doesn’t that make sense? Then we could stay here. Please, please, just throw it outside.”
Terry shook his head. “That thing killed my best friend. I’m not giving it shit.”
Christina pulled back, “I know that, he was my friend too, but I don’t want to die. Where is it Terry? It wasn’t in the box.”
A chill went up Terry’s spine. “How did you know it wasn’t in the box, Christina?”
She shrugged and raised her eyes to meet his. Terry saw the yellow glow emanating from her once beautiful ice blue eyes. He stumbled backward.
“Oh God, no, not Christina!”
‘She’ smiled. “Is this what you want, this body? I know it is.”
Terry stared into the face of the woman he loved, but never told. He reached for the leather pouch as ‘she’ continued speaking.
“Where is the amulet, Terry? Tell me now and I’ll make sure that you die as quickly as she did.”
“Go to Hell.”
‘She’ laughed. “Kiss me Terry.” ‘She’ leaned down and climbed on top of him. He could still smell the perfume in her hair. Her cold lips locked on to his and pulled. Terry struggled to retreat, to get that hand full of ash from the pouch, but he shook as ‘she’ leaned in again. She placed a hand on his thigh and slid it upward.
Terry yanked his hand from the leather pouch and shoved the white ash into ‘her’ opening mouth. ‘She’ screeched and tore Christina’s flesh off where it collapsed into a crimson mess.
It rolled on the floor with a horrible wail as it clawed at what could only be its ‘mouth’. Terry leapt to his feet and ran for the back door. He passed Christina’s body lying in a bloody mound and cried out in anger and pain. He tore open the back door and ran into the back yard. One section of the yard was fenced off, and he saw the Indian symbols on the grave. Terry kneeled and overturned a stone in that section of the yard.
He tore at the ground with his hands trying to get a hole dug in the tough soil. He reached into his pocket, removed the amulet and dropped it into the shallow hole. He covered it over, replaced the rock and sprinkled white ash in a circle over the stone. Then with two handfuls of the remaining ash, he waited. The creature burst from the house and raced toward Terry. Its form glistened and sparkled, looking more like a shadow than a solid creature. Its forward progress stopped suddenly at the fence, as if it had hit an invisible wall.
“Skinwalker, meet sacred ground.” Terry said.
“NO!” it shouted. “It’s not possible. We are too far from Navajo land.”
“So was the Navajo chief they buried here.”
The creature shrieked and clawed at the air trying to pass through the invisible impenetrable shield. After several minutes of fruitless attempts, the creature began walking the border around the sacred ground. Terry turned as the creature did, never taking his eyes off of it.
“In a couple of hours, the sun will be up Skinwalker. I can wait, can you?”
The creature looked to the east and knew Terry was right. It spoke.
“The woman, you loved her?”
“Yes, I loved her and you killed her.”
The creature’s expression, if you could call it that, turned up into a smile. It pointed a finger at Terry.
“With the power of the amulet, I can give you your woman back alive.”
Terry stopped.
‘No, Ata Halne said that the creature would be cunning.’ Terry thought.
The creature spoke again, “We sit here at an impasse, and I have told you what I can do for you. You know what you can do for me. And yet neither moves.”
“You can make Christina alive again?”
The creature nodded. “With the help of the amulet, I can do anything.”
“How do I know you won’t kill me when I give it to you?”
“Obviously, you don’t. But you can sit and wait for her body to decay, or I can give her back to you now.”
Terry held out his left hand, as if to drop the amulet he didn't have any longer into the creatures' grasp and extended it over the border of the fence. When the creature opened its hand, Terry grasped it and pulled. White ash flew into the creature, searing it. With a hard yank, Terry pulled the creature through the fence. It writhed in agony, thrashing on the ground.
“I kind of figured that if touching sacred ground was too painful for you, that having the shit kicked out of you with sacred ground might do the trick.” Terry turned and picked up the stone. He brought the stone down on the creature’s head and heard a sick crack. He lifted the stone again and brought it down through the torso of the Skinwalker. Green smoke bellowed from the cracks in the creatures form.
Slowly, the creature began to lose his form and the twitching ceased. Terry looked down and watched as the form melted into the sacred ground and sizzled. He dropped the stone back into its place and stood over the liquefied remains of the Skinwalker. He picked up more stones from the sacred ground and placed them on the bubbling black liquid. He stayed for the sunrise; just to make sure the creature was as dead as it now smelled. When the sunlight hit the black ooze, it disintegrated into dust. There would be no human form for this Skinwalker not any more. Only when there was enough light in the sky did he leave the sacred ground and head for his car.