“But if the white settlers could not be trusted with this, how did Ross know that he could trust a church full of white people?” It was a good question, assuming it was a church full of white people.
“There were many people in the United States government as well as average, every day citizens, who wanted the relocation to happen. No doubt, those people were in the majority. However, there were some who believed it to be a great evil and fought the forced removal with every resource they had. Davy Crockett was one of the most famous to fight against the government removal. It ended up costing him his political career. “But there were also local people who rallied for the Cherokee cause. One of those was the pastor of a nearby church. That place of worship still exists today. It’s called The Beacon Tabernacle. Ross developed a friendship with this preacher over time and grew to trust the man as if they were brothers. In fact, there was a rumor that the reverend had even gone through the blood ceremony to become forever united with his new friend.” The Indian stopped again and looked out through the double doors to make sure no one was waiting at the desk, a move that startled the two Russians momentarily.
Ignoring their jumpiness, he began again while Tommy listened eagerly. “A few days before the federal troops moved in, Ross went to the church. He walked in during a service and presented the jar to his friend. There it was kept for over a century until this park was established. Knowledge of this vase’s importance to the Cherokee was passed down from pastor to pastor. When it was announced that Red Clay would become a protected state park, the then leader of the church graciously returned the vessel to where he believed to be its proper resting place.”
“So, what happened to the bones of this ruler?”
“The great king’s remains were rumored to have been buried somewhere safe, but the location remains a mystery much like story itself.”
As fascinating as the whole tale had been, none of it really helped them with the bigger picture of finding the chambers. Tommy couldn’t help but feel like this simple park ranger knew more than he was letting on. But how to get it out of him?
The Indian disrupted his thoughts with a whisper, just loud enough for Tommy’s ear alone to hear, “You shall not find what it is you seek. Though you have come further than any before, the chamber will remain a secret.”
“What? Why?” He was confused by the sudden confirmation and denial all in one breath.
Ulrich leaned in to hear the exchange between the two men.
The ranger stepped back, resolution in his face. “You are not the one the prophecy foretold would lead us home.” His finger extended toward the now angry looking blonde man. “You will not find the chamber. Only death awaits you and your allies.”
Pulling his gun from his jacket, Ulrich stood in front of the man and pressed the Glock to his forehead. He’d heard enough. “Tell me where the chamber is, fool, and perhaps I will spare your life.”
A sick grin came upon the reddish-brown face. It was followed by a deep, slow laugh, becoming faster and louder until the entire hall was filled with the eerie sound. “Death is no threat to me. The location of the chamber will only be revealed to the pure of heart. Your heart is black as the night. I can see it in your eyes. It cannot be yours.”
Tommy tried to intervene and stepped toward Ulrich. “Jens, don’t do this! He’s the only one that can help us. If you kill him, then we will never find the chamber. We need him.”
The blonde cocked his head slightly. “Hmm. Really?” Then, with a matter of fact look, he turned his attention back to the park ranger, “Well, if dying doesn’t change your mind, perhaps pain will.” A split second later, he had lowered the weapon to the ranger’s leg. The loud recoil rang throughout the museum walls.
What had been a look of resolve on the man’s face instantly contorted to agony and shock as he collapsed to the floor.
Ulrich’s voice became louder, more commanding. “Tell me where the chamber is and I will end your misery!”
The man said nothing, he just grasped his leg trying to slow the bleeding from the bullet wound.
“Say it!” Ulrich yelled again. He aimed the weapon at the other knee and pulled the trigger again.
The kneecap erupted in a splash of blood and bone. Still, the man did not cry out, though his face betrayed a new surge of pain as he clenched his jaw tighter.
A small pool of red liquid was forming around where he was propped on the floor.
All Tommy could do was watch in horror, helpless to do anything, wrapped in the arms of the two guards. “Are you crazy? Stop it! We need him!” he screamed.
The blonde’s eyes turned for a moment to Tommy before another shot resonated through the building. This bullet went through the ranger’s shoulder, directly into the joint. Blood trickled from the wound down the tan sleeve of the man’s uniform.
Both of the guards looked visibly uneasy as they watched from a few feet away. They were busily looking around to make sure no one else was going to enter the room, paranoia on their faces.
Ulrich squatted down and put his nose close to the grimacing face of the Indian and pressed the gun against the man’s temple. “Tell me where the chamber is and I will end all of this for you right now. This is your last chance.”
The agony on the ranger’s face turned once again to a look of defiance. “I am already dead,” he spat through gritted teeth. “My ancestors await me. And you shall never have the treasure you seek. My purpose is fulfilled.”
“Have it your way then,” the gun lowered to the ranger’s abdomen. Another pop burst through the silence.
Bloody hands first grasped at the arms of the European jacket of the man that had certainly ended his life. Then, releasing the sleeves, he reached down with his hands and felt the warm, thick liquid seeping from the bullet hole in his stomach. His voice came in a gasp now, “The chamber will not be found.”
A moment passed and the Indian just lay there silently, looking at the ceiling with his hands on his belly, covered in the oozing crimson.
“Nooo!” Tommy yelled. Adrenaline took over as he broke the grasp of the guards and rushed towards the kneeling Ulrich.
The move seemed to catch the killer off guard for a moment as the crazed prisoner’s shoulder plowed squarely into the man’s right arm, jarring the gun from his hand. It clacked onto the hard carpet floor and tumbled a few feet away. Startled into action, the two guards pried the wildly swinging Tommy off of the blonde before he could strike back.
One of the flat tops bear hugged him into submission while the shorter one proceeded to punch him viciously in the mid-section. Tommy lost his breath and his body’s natural reaction was to double over, but with the far stronger arms holding him up, his body couldn’t reach the position it desired for relief. Another fist slammed into his jaw, causing the world to spin recklessly out of control. The guard released his grip, and unconsciousness teased him for a moment as he lay sprawled out on the floor.
Ulrich had recovered from the attack and was now standing over him. Through his captor’s legs, he could see the huddled mass of the park ranger leaning against the wall. The man’s chest still moved up and down, but a considerable pool of blood was collecting around his body. He held something in his right hand, unseen by the attackers. It looked like a cell phone.
“That was an unwise move, Thomas.” Ulrich said, still standing over Tommy. “Why should I not do to you the same as I did to him?” his arm gestured carelessly toward the heaped Indian in the corner.
Tommy coughed, his breath returning. A thin line of blood streamed from his lip as he rose to his knees. He wiped the blood with the top of his hand. “You know why. I’m the only one that can help you find the chambers.” Another cough wracked his body and kept him on one knee.