.

The Secret of the Totems

Dr. Hill drove concernedly up to the chalet property. He was more than a little worried about Mr. Washington's mental health. The sooner he spoke to the bereaved man the better. It was a very beautiful drive, he noted to himself. The property must be spectacular. The chalet probably had been too, before it had burned to the ground. Still, there was a sense of… foreboding about that mountain. That area in general, in fact. There were more than a few stories, mostly First Nations ones, that told about what secrets the place might harbor. He checked his GPS again. In about five minutes he should be at the gates.

UD

The ranger looked up at the gates thoughtfully, a frown etched on his face. This was where his brother had died. On this property, that was. He sighed through the nose, closing his eyes. It hurt to remember. First grandfather, then Jack… He opened them again and went to the padlock. He examined it. It was strong. He could use bolt cutters, he knew, he had some in the back of his pickup, but he didn't much like the idea of that. He would be trespassing as it was, and how Mr. Washington would feel about that he didn't know. What he knew was he had to figure out what was going on, no matter what.

"You there!" a voice called. The stranger turned and saw a man in his fifties or sixties he would guess, climbing out of a car and approaching him suspiciously. "What's your business here?"

"It seems to me you aren't Mr. Washington, so I could ask you the same," the ranger replied. "I'm doing my job. Protecting the people on this mountain who are looking to have a good time, and preserving the sanctity of the forest while doing so. Mr. Washington contacted me from Blackwood Mountain a few days ago. His questions concerned me. I'm going up to check on him. My job description allows it. I assume yours doesn't, so now it's your turn. Tell me why you're here before I haul you in for questioning."

"I'm Mr. Washington's psychiatrist, Dr. Alan J. Hill," Dr. Hill answered. "He called me only a few days ago as well. His questions disturbed me too. In the best interests of my patient, I decided to come up here and try to talk to him. See what he's getting into, see if there's any risk for self-harm or suicide, and hopefully talk him into coming back before he hurts himself. My patient is in a very, very bad place right now, he's lost a good deal, so I would very much like to know what questions he was asking that had you on edge."

"In part questions, in part remarks that seemed… off," the ranger said. "He asked me about the legends surrounding this place, the curse and the wendigo. He told me he was going to make things right. My brother died in this place, about the same time the Washington boy went missing and the traumatized teenagers were rescued. I assumed, at the time, Mr. Washington wanted to compensate me for my brother's death. I told him I didn't want his money and that it wouldn't bring my brother back. He told me to think about what I wanted, but the more I thought about the way he said those things, the more concerned I became that it was just a way to throw me off. All of that coupled with his questions regarding the wendigo and the Blackwood Mountain curse…"

"The wendigo? He asked me about wendigo too, as well as amnesia and memory recovery. He asked me what I thought of the story the teenagers told upon being rescued. He asked questions about the events they claimed went on up there. It almost sounded like he actually believed them. Then he asked about wendigo syndrome, but the way he was speaking… He knew what it was. Why would he ask me about it unless he was thinking of something else? Oh… Oh my. I wonder…"

"Wonder what?" the ranger questioned.

"I wonder if he's starting to truly believe the story the children told. It may be that he's becoming delusional, but that seems so strange. He is strong-minded and as strong of will as he is of mind. He is very creative and imaginative, but also practical and pragmatic. He's not a man prone to superstition or legend. A mental break, given his psychiatry, is highly unlikely. Given all he's been through, though, it isn't impossible either."

"Doctor, what are you saying?" the ranger asked.

"I need to get to him as soon as possible. I must bring him back, evaluate his mental state, and perhaps prescribe him some medications to help with any delusions he's developing that may be born of grief. I think he may believe his son is alive, just not as he was before. I think he may believe that Josh has become a mythical wendigo. If that's the case, he could hurt himself very badly pursuing the theory. I need to get up there as soon as I can," Alan answered. "Will you help me, Mr…?"

"Just Dallas, please," the ranger replied. "Stick close to me. If he's on that property, we'll find him." Hopefully Mr. Washington was all they'd find. He could tell the psychiatrist didn't believe the legends, didn't believe the wendigo were real. Hopefully the man would never have to learn otherwise, but the ranger got the sinking feeling they wouldn't be quite so lucky. However, he had reason to use the bolt cutters now. If this was indeed a potential medical emergency, there was no time to waste. Quickly he went to his truck and retrieved the bolt cutters, going to the lock and easily snapping it off. Quickly the two men returned to their vehicles and drove in.

UD

Leaving their vehicles, the duo walked towards the cable car. The ranger pulled out a large bundle from his pickup that Alan could only assume contained weapons and various survival supplies just in case. They walked up to the cable car and boarded it without a pause. Soon it was on its way up. Both men were gravely silent. After a moment, Dallas turned to Alan. "There may be things you see up there, doctor, that you never would have thought you would see. It's important that you don't panic. Not once. Not until it's certain the danger is gone, but remember that you can't ever be totally certain of anything. It may seem like your reality is crashing down around you, but you can't focus on that. You'll need to focus on pulling through. When the terror faces you, stand totally and completely still. Don't move a muscle, don't scream. Just wait and pray."

"What are you talking about?" Dr. Hill asked. "I'm not going to be frightened by campfire stories. I'm surprised you let yourself be."

"If they were campfire stories, doctor, I would be the first to laugh at them," Dallas seriously said, and for the first time, Alan felt a chill creep down his spine. What exactly had he gotten himself into? "I'll do what I can to get you and Mr. Washington off that mountain alive, but I can't guarantee it's a certainty. If you have family to call, best you do so now."

"Enough! I won't be terrified by your ancient myths and legends. Hokum, all of it," Dr. Hill firmly said.

"When you face the terror, be totally still," the stranger repeated.

"Maybe I should see both you and Mr. Washington in my office. It seems he's not the only one having trouble coping with his grief," Dr. Hill answered. Dallas gave him a warning glare before focusing again on the building looming ahead, where the cable car would come to a stop. He hoped they weren't too late, but he got the sinking feeling they'd be pushing it.

UD

Mr. Washington surveyed his trap. It was crude. Almost embarrassing in fact. He couldn't see it having a prayer of containing Josh, but it was the best he could do. He could only hope it worked. He almost laughed at himself. He could guess the outcome of this before it happened. Josh would break free and tear him apart. That was it. It would be over as soon as it started. Strange how he wasn't more scared than he was. In fact, he wasn't scared at all. Maybe this was, in a sense, his way of ending his own life. That was a morbid thought, but nothing about this was bright or happy at all anyway. Now to wait… He didn't have to wait long.

Suddenly, from the bushes leapt a wendigo screeching in anger. Mr. Washington spun around and his eyes widened. Josh! Immediately he ran, knowing the movement would draw the young man's attention. Sure enough, Joshigo leapt into action with a screech, pursuing him rapidly. Bob leapt through the snare untouched. Josh sprung it and shrieked in rage as he found himself caught within. Viciously he struggled. Mr. Washington ran ahead a little more then turned around to see if the trap would hold. So far so… Oh no. It was starting to weaken and crack. It was going to break!

No sooner had that realization entered his mind when the snare failed and Josh got free. The next thing Mr. Washington knew, he was on the ground with Josh crouched above him, ready to rip him apart! He gazed in horror into his son's eyes. He knew he was about to die, but that didn't stop him from searching his child's gaze for some hint of humanity that may have been left over. There was none, he realized with a dropping heart.

If there is none, no hint at all, then why are you still breathing?

Bob's eyes widened ever so slightly. There was hesitation. The wendigo was hesitating! Then he saw it. The faintest sparkle of something. Fear? Recognition? It was gone the next moment, no time for him to try and read it. It wouldn't matter anyway. He'd never be able to reach it and try and release it now. Joshigo gave a screech and went to rip his father's head off. Suddenly, though, a bullet rang out and the wendigo spun, distracted. It gave another screeching roar, leaping towards the new threat. Before he got even ten feet away, a strong and thick rope net was cast on him. Spewing and screeching in rage, Josh began to tear frantically at it, attempting to cut it into pieces. The more he struggled, though, the more tangled he became. However, some of the ropes were weakening. Soon they would be snapped one by one as Josh, or what was once Josh, began to get his bearings again.

Mr. Washington scrambled to his hands and knees and looked toward the source of the chaos with wide eyes. There, staring on in utter, horrified disbelief in the case of one, and stoic determination in the case of the other, were Dr. Hill and a man who looked too much like Jack for it to be coincidental. The ranger he'd spoken to. It must be! Jack's brother. "Get up and get over here!" the ranger shouted at him. Bob didn't argue. He gasped, staggering up and racing to the other two. Dr. Alan was white with shock, gawking at the wendigo as if unable to believe his eyes.

"Who's crazy now, Alan?" Bob couldn't help but nip in petty satisfaction.

"I-I... this... that's… Oh my god. Josh!" Alan exclaimed.

"Whoever you think he was, he isn't him anymore! Run!" the ranger ordered. He wasn't about to stick around to kill or thoroughly trap the wendigo. His main goal at this point was getting Mr. Washington and Dr. Hill out of there and away from possible harm. Neither of the other two men argued, turning and racing away. The ranger looked back once more at Josh. He still looked so human… Perhaps…? He shook his head. Now wasn't the time to speculate. If he stayed here, he'd end up like his brother. He hurried to catch up to the other two and see them safely back to Mr. Washington's camp. Luckily, he and Dr. Hill had found it almost immediately, given it was set up where the chalet had once been.

The three men could clearly hear Josh pursuing them, but by then they had distanced themselves from him enough to have a chance. "What do we do?!" Alan exclaimed in fear.

"If he gets closer and you think he's about to spot us, stand still! Just like I told you! As still as you can possibly get. He won't see you then. In theory," the ranger said.

"In theory?!" Dr. Hill demanded.

"Generally it works. Just… on occasion not so much," the ranger replied. "We'll lose him, but you need to follow everything I do without fail."

"That was Joshua," Dr. Hill realized in stunned horror, still trying to comprehend this and thanking whatever powers may be that he wasn't the type to freeze in place in a panic situation. Though, if what the ranger said was true, he probably would have been better off.

The ranger twisted and turned in the forest, every so often doubling back and hiding so as to further throw the wendigo. Dr. Hill and Bob Washington proved not to be burdens, however, and followed without argument. It wasn't long before the sounds of the pursuing creature had faded away.

Once silence reigned, the trio stayed still where they were hiding. For a long time, no one spoke. They hardly dared to breathe. "He's gone," the ranger finally murmured.

"How do you know he's gone?" Mr. Washington asked equally as quietly.

"I don't for certain, for all I know he's watching for us now and the moment we move he'll be on top of us, but I doubt it, and we can't stay here. Especially not if there's more than one. Besides, we would freeze in this place if we determined not to move all night," the ranger said.

"Who are you?" Mr. Washington asked. "I'm aware, or believe, you're Jack's brother, but your name. What is it?"

"Dallas," the man answered as he rose, though he offered little more. Now wasn't the time for conversation. They could do that when they were back at Mr. Washington's camp. "Let's get going," he said, moving forward cautiously. Dr. Hill and Mr. Washington followed closely.

UD

"Have you gone completely insane?" Alan sharply demanded of Bob the minute the three men got back to the campsite. "You believed the stories the children told were true, yet still decided it would be a good idea to come up here alone? Are you trying to get yourself killed?!"

"It wasn't my intent, no. My intent was to come up here alone and try to cope with my grief! It was only after I was up here that I began to think that maybe, just maybe, my son might be alive. Even if he wasn't, I was at least going to find his body! I couldn't bury my daughters, but there was still a chance I could bury my son. Maybe the idea was madness, especially after realizing what had become of him, but dammit he's my child!" Bob argued. "You told me memories could be regained, even if they were far gone."

"That was before I knew that what was once your child didn't exist anymore! Josh - that creature - isn't human anymore, Bob, don't you see?" Alan protested.

"You came up here to this mountain expecting to capture a wendigo and make it remember what it once was?! You should be in an asylum if that was your reasoning!" Dallas backed immediately. "You have no idea what you're doing!"

"I know full well what I'm doing! I'm trying to save my son!" Bob shot.

"Your son? Whatever that thing is, it doesn't function like a man or think like a man. Not anymore!" Dallas argued.

"He's gone, Bob. You need to realize that, and you need to go home," Alan pled.

"He's right. Leave this to me. I'll finish what my brother started. You need to be with your wife during her last days, not out here pursuing a lost cause," Dallas said. He sounded calmer and more sympathetic now but maintained his firmness.

"No. I'm not leaving! I won't let him go! I'll bring my son back or die trying," Bob determinedly said.

"Be reasonable, Bob, please!" Dr. Hill begged. "You aren't thinking clearly."

"I'm thinking more clearly than I have in a very, very long time," Bob replied. "I have nothing to live for, don't you understand? Nothing!"

"Your wife!" Dr. Hill insisted.

"There's no hope for her anymore, and you know it, Alan! You need to stop sugarcoating this for me. Who do you think you're trying to fool? Her only wish was to see our son once more, be it alive or dead, so I will do everything in my power to grant her that wish, up to and including die for it. Even if she dies before that wish can come true, at least she'll have done so hoping and believing our boy would come home. If you two aren't here to help, you need to go. Go home to your families. Be safe," Bob said. He turned to Dallas. "I know what your brother was doing, the vengeance he was trying to get for your grandfather. When I'm dead, do what you have to, to finish what your brother started, but not a moment before; because as long as I'm living and breathing, I won't have a wendigo hunter hunting my son while I'm trying to save him!"

"Don't you understand anything we're saying? Don't you hear us? It's too late!" Dallas insisted.

"Is it?" Josh's father demanded, grabbing the bag full of totems and showing them to the two. They looked at them in shocked disbelief. "Within these relics are memories. Those memories are the key to saving my son, they have to be! There's no other reason for their existence. If they aren't the key to bringing him back to normalcy, then at least they might be the key to returning his mind to something of a functioning state. Maybe it won't cut it, maybe it won't be enough, but at least I'll have tried!"

"You've lost your senses, man! Dammit, I'll have you committed I swear I will. This isn't one of your movies or fantasies, Bob, this is real life! Dallas, tell him that…" Alan began, turning to the man. He cut himself off. Suddenly the ranger had become very quiet and still and pale. "Dallas?" Alan asked. If it were a Wendigo threat, the man would have warned them, but he hadn't. So then what was going on?

Bob eyed him curiously, then started, realization coming to his eyes. "You know something, don't you?" he asked.

The ranger was quiet. After a moment, he looked back towards the woods in silence, pondering his answer. Soon he turned back. "Yes," he admitted quietly.

Alan stared at him in disbelief. The look that the man had worn… Like someone had just uncovered a secret that would never, could never, be uncovered. A secret bound up by the most sacred of ties and only known by a very, very choice few. Perhaps tribal secrets? No. Secrets even a tribe wouldn't know. Secrets no one but a shaman would have learned. "Dallas, are you…?" he began in realization before trailing off.

Immediately Bob sprang on the statement. "A shaman? Or is medicine man the correct term? Never mind! Is he right? Is it true? You know something? What is it? What do you know? Will it help save my son?!" Bob demanded frantically. "Please, I'm begging you. Tell me! I'll never breathe a word of it to anyone else, just tell me how to save my boy!"

Dallas was quiet, head bowed. Finally, he looked back up, eyes narrowed. "Alan is right. I am a shaman of my people. A particularly highly regarded one. I know more secrets, I would say, than even most others. But our secrets are guarded, and under no circumstance are they to be told to anyone. I'm sorry," he said. Bob felt his heart sinking and was about ready to lash out, when… "Though I don't believe grandfather ever explained to me exactly what to do when one, or at least part of one, was discovered accidentally regardless…" Bob perked hopefully up. Dallas was thinking again. "Is a secret still a secret when everyone knows it exists but aren't certain of its truth?" he mused out loud.

"If Area 51 aliens exist, then are they still a secret despite everyone knowing about it? Even if most believe the alien part to be fiction?" Dr. Hill carefully replied.

Dallas considered this, then turned to face Bob again. "If I share this with you, you will never speak of it again. Pretend you never heard it, pretend it never existed, and pretend that anything and everything that springs from it from this point forth is unrelated to this moment in time. The secret must be bound up in you for eternity. You as well, Alan. It can never be known that I told you a single word. Technically I didn't. You figured it out on your own, as far as I'm concerned. I may well be forever cursed for what I'm about to do. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes! I'll give you anything, promise you anything, just tell me what I need to do!" Bob exclaimed.

"You asked me to think about what I wanted in compensation for the loss of my brother, so here is the compensation you owe me. Find a way to forever trap Makkapitew and break this mountain's curse. That is the only way I will forgive you for Jack's death. I don't expect you to ever be able to pull it off, but if by some happy accident you manage to actually do this and succeed… Enough said," Dallas replied.

"I promise it. Now how do I save my son?" Bob asked.

"The totems are the key to freeing, in part, his mind, but the body is another matter entirely. I'm telling you this now for only two reasons. One, because for the most part, you've learned it already. Two, because seeing the determination and devotion you have to your son… It would be nothing short of heartless of me to keep quiet now when you're so very close to saving him. So I'll help you. To the best of my ability," Dallas said.

"My god, this is actually happening," Alan muttered, hand to his forehead in disbelief. He could hardly believe it. This was actually real. "I can't believe this is actually happening."

"Maybe I'll succeed where my grandfather and brother failed," Dallas continued. "I know also how to restore your boy's body, but this journey will be a dangerous and deadly one from which you might not return. Your son might not either. The cure has never been performed in time. Or if it has, then the victim has never survived it and at best only gets to die human, or relatively so. I don't know exactly how it works, or the time limit, but better safe than sorry."

"I'll take the chance," Bob said.

"You're both out of your heads," Alan said, rubbing his temples and shaking his head. He should have them both committed and then himself for what he was about to say now. "Very well. If you believe this can be done, I won't stand in your way. I'll do what it takes to help you."

Dallas nodded at Alan, then turned back to Bob again. "Leave the setting of a trap to Alan and I. We'll set one up that's effective and at least strong enough to give you time to do the job. Your only task is to get Josh there. Be very, very careful you don't fail or fall to him. Throw down the totems one by one as you run to buy yourself time. Every single one of them. They will be grabbed by Josh as he pursues you. They will show him their secrets and what they contain. The memories, the feelings, the emotions… He will sense them all. By the time he is trapped, he will be confused and thrown enough that there may be a chance." Dallas said. He reached into a pocket and brought out one last totem, different from the others somehow. He gazed at it then sighed deeply. He looked to Bob and handed it over. "Whatever this one shows him will make or break your son. It's fifty-fifty whether it will deem him too far gone to be saved and end him, or whether it will deem him still within reach and save him. I can't tell you which it will be, or the secrets surrounding it, or the secrets of the other totems. It wouldn't matter anyway. They will do what they must. You will know their decision in time. Now go. I stress again, be careful."

"Thank you," Bob exclaimed, suddenly hugging the shocked man tightly then drawing quickly back and hurrying to find his son.

"The trap will be down the path we saved you on!" Dallas called after him. Bob gave a wave back to signal he'd heard.

"We have to hurry. It won't take him long to find Josh," Alan said.

"Right," Dallas agreed. Quickly the two set off.