Page 107 of Chaos has a Name

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Oh, they both knew that.

“And she found folded clothes. Why didn’t she suspect that if this was some legend around the reservation?” she asked.

Callen knew.

It wasn’t that difficult to explain.

“The older generations believed it. You know, like Wyler and Timothy. We only heard about it because the Shaman…he believed. We honestly thought it was to calm us down because we ran wild.”

Well, holy shit.

If it looked like a Wendigo, and it hunted like a Wendigo, it was likely a legend that she’d have to go head-on at to find the truth.

Because Wendigos didn’t exist.

Then, something even more horrific hit her.

If this is every single year since Timothy was young…

They knew.

That would mean there were more than a hundred bodies buried on the reservation.

Well, shit.

Yeah, this was exactly what she expected when coming back toDamascus.

Ridiculous nonsense.

And it had just been dumped on her doorstep—and her unfenced in property smack-ass dab in the middle of the reservation.

How could this go wrong?

They were about to find out.

* * * The Blackhawk Family * * *

The Reservation

Noon

Timothy Blackhawk’s Cabin

The Rez McMansion

After wandering in the woods, listening to the ancestors talk to him, Wyler knew that he eventually had to get back.

Why?

He could only hide for so long before Elizabeth sent out a bunch of Marines, or his sons, to find and drag him back home.

She was predictable, if nothing.

And honestly, he expected it.

After talking to his father in his peyote dream, he knew that he needed to face them down.

Was he going to change his mind?

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