The
two college students attended Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff. He was
Native American, tracing his roots back to the mysterious Anasazi Indians. She
was European, from somewhere in Eastern Europe or so it was said.
Arriving
at the Mogollon Rim, the Colorado Plateau’s southern escarpment, Martin
spread a blanket in front of the giant pine that overlooked Walnut Canyon, a
narrow gorge that housed traces of pre-Columbian Sinagua pueblos. Nadya opened
their picnic basket and arranged the sandwiches and drinks.
Finishing their light repast, they settled
against the pine to watch the afternoon sun over the western mountains. Nadya
nestled in the crook of Martin’s arm as they chatted about their studies.
During a pause, she lifted her face seeking affection, but Martin put his hand
over her lips. “I can’t.” He said. “I’m a member of an Anasazi sect that is cursed.
If I kiss you I may lose control and breathe your life force. Unable to stop, I
will inhale your soul and you will crumble into ashes.
Nadya
stiffened as she absorbed Martin’s tale, and then kissed his neck gently. “I
too have a spell.” She said. “I’m Romani, a Gypsy.” And with that she sank her
teeth into Martin’s pulsating neck. His blood splattered from the gaping wound
as she gorged herself, only pulling back a second to take a breath. In that
pause, Martin jerked his head and planted his mouth on hers, inhaling
violently. Instantly, Nadya went limp as he sucked away her life force. When he hesitated, she gathered her strength and fought back, biting his lips.
An
owl perched above in the pine tree gazed down at the struggle on the blanket
and hooted. The sun touched the mountains, reds and gold streaked the
evening sky. Night creatures crept forward, watching the lovers clinched in
their deadly embrace.
A
sheriff’s deputy met the state investigator as he pulled into the trail-head
parking lot. The deputy led the way to the fatal picnic scene. “Possibly a
homicide, but hard to tell what happened. Might be an animal attack, but I have
no idea what animal did this.”
The
two law officers arrived at the scene and the state investigator paused
considering the young man dead against the pine tree overlooking the canyon. Sandwiches and drinks were laid out for two on
the blanket. The lawman went forward and bent carefully, studying the dead
student with the jagged neck gash and chewed lips. Taking his pen, he poked at
something on Martin’s clothes
“What‘s
that?” The deputy asked.
“Ash,”
the investigator answered, pointing to the debris on the student’s lap and on
the blanket. Gazing around the quiet pines, he wondered aloud.
“Where’d
all these ashes come from?”
