The impact made Lester drop everything he was carrying and the cables trapped his hands against his torso. He and Fate were both carrying walkie talkies on their belts that were illegally-modified for long range use, but the device was just out of his reach. He strained against the metal cables until his hands were bleeding, but there was no way he could reach far enough to toggle the transmit button on the side of the radio.
He hung there in midair, bound, and looked up at the sky. At least the wind and rain had subsided slightly. The storm was moving on.
Gradually, he worked his hand down an inch more until with his middle finger, he was able to touch the squelch button on the top of the walkie talkie. He tapped out an S-O-S on it and waited. He hoped somehow Fate would hear it and come looking for him. He’d have to pass Hamilton’s on the way, and he’d be extremely suspicious of Whittington, even wandering around on foot, so with any luck he’d intercept the Professor before he did any more harm. Lester smiled at the thought. No one in their right mind would want Fate coming after them.
***
Whittington was bushwhacking his way through the underbrush, hoping he would eventually find the road again. He thought he was going the right way, but it was taking too long. He must’ve gotten turned around.
It was difficult to stay oriented. He was wandering around, dazed by the prospect of exposure for his crimes, the fight with Henry, the car wreck, the explosion, the storm, and the surreal landscape. Things kept getting worse. And the bad things were happening with less and less recovery time in between. He felt hysterical. Then he thought he could make out several black blobs moving toward him in the darkness, converging on him from different directions. He was frightened that they might be bears, so he shot at them.
He was mistaken about the shadows, they weren’t bears, but he’d have been even more terrified if he’d realized his wild potshots were summoning a 400 pound black bear who happened to be close enough to hear the distinctive pops of the silenced rifle. The bear loped off toward the sound, excited to see what Henry had made for dinner.
Chapter 40
When Professor Whittington saw the bear up close, he did the worst thing he could possibly do. He ran.
That virtually guaranteed that the bear would chase him, even though the fearsome creature wasn’t at all interested in harming him, but was simply doing what he’d learned, for which he expected to receive a tasty pork treat.
Whittington sprinted along the most passable route he could discern and to his surprise and relief, burst out on the paved road. Hamilton’s was just across the way. He continued toward it at his maximum speed. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw that the bear was still giving chase, not gaining on him, but following avidly.
Whittington didn’t understand that the bear was looking for a wild hog, expecting Whittington to drop it. He dashed into the parking lot and zigzagged between the cars, jerking on the door handle of each one as he passed. The third one he tried was unlocked. It was Jill’s new Mazda 323. He put one leg into the car, turned, and saw the bear closing in on him.
The sight was terrifying. Whittington threw himself the rest of the way into the car, and tried to slam the door, but the rifle he was carrying prevented it from closing. He dropped the gun on the ground and closed the door just seconds before the bear caught up with him. The bear raked the side of the car with his huge claws as a way of requesting his supper.
Whittington was trapped. The bear had him pinned inside the small car. The creature clawed and snarled ferociously as it climbed onto the hood and then the roof, looking for a way to reach the food it believed was inside.
It took less than a minute for the bear to force its claws through the rubber strip around the top of the driver’s window and pry the glass out. Whittington scrambled across the console into the passenger seat. He opened the passenger door, intending to make a dash for the store, but the bear swatted at him with tremendous strength, unintentionally slamming it closed. Whittington sat inside, nearly paralyzed with fear.
The bear climbed down from the top of the car and set to work on the driver’s door. Now that the glass was gone, the immensely strong and excited creature was able to get leverage with both paws on the window sill and rip the door off. Whittington screamed and clambered over the front seats into the back.
That was a really bad decision. He should have tried again to get out the passenger side. But he didn’t realize his mistake until it was too late. Only after the bear had climbed into the front and was swatting at him between the seats, did he realize he was in the back seat of a two door car.
***
Henry lay on the ground with his right arm bleeding heavily. He had no idea what he’d been hit with. He assumed it was a bit of flying debris propelled up by the gale force winds. It was actually a bullet from one of the Professor’s potshots.
It wasn’t difficult for Leon to enlarge one of the rips in Henry’s shirt and tear off a strip of fabric to make a tourniquet. He tied the piece of cloth around Henry’s arm above the bulge of his bicep and got the bleeding slowed, but when Henry tried to stand he couldn’t.
A moment later he felt Leon’s hands grasp him under the arms. Henry still wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating or if Leon was actually there. But someone lifted him with surprising strength and helped him to his feet. Then, with Leon half carrying him, he was able to make his way toward Hamilton’s.
***
Phoebe looked out the window and a sudden flash of lightning lit the back yard. She couldn’t believe her eyes. It was Henry and Leon! Leon was soaked and Henry looked a fright. What in the world had happened? And what in blue blazes was he doing out there? Phoebe grabbed a raincoat and ran for the back door. As soon as she went outside, before she could put the coat on, the wind jerked it out of her hand and carried it off into the storm.
She ran toward the two figures. When she got closer she saw that Henry was bleeding and could barely stand on his own. Leon was holding him upright. God have mercy. She had no idea what had happened, but whatever it was, it looked serious.
She went to Henry’s other side and would have helped support him, but before she could, he pulled the rifle sling off over his head. He handed her the gun, the night vision headset, and the small plastic protective case containing the darts, and gasped, “Shoot!” and pointed out into the maelstrom.
“What?” she shouted, putting on the headgear and slipping a dart into the chamber.
“Go!” he shouted and shoved her hard toward the road.
She jogged around the side of the store and when she turned the corner, she saw a big bear destroying Jill’s car.
An angry adult bear was a force of nature even more terrifying than the storm had been. Phoebe paused, watching the scene in amazement. The bear tore the driver’s door off the car like he was opening a cardboard box. She made out the shape of someone scrambling over the front seat into the back.
A man’s face suddenly appeared in the back window. He was trying to climb onto the small shelf behind the back seats. His shrieks could be heard over the howling of the wind.
Henry hobbled up behind her while she stared dumbly at the scene. He shouted at Phoebe again, “It’s Whittington. For God’s sake shoot!”
Phoebe lifted the rifle and aimed, “Which one?” she shouted. When Henry didn’t answer her, she turned to find him on the ground with Leon kneeling over him.
The bear growled, the Professor let out a long hysterical scream, and Phoebe turned around and fired.
Immediately after making the shot she reloaded the gun.
The Professor’s terrible screams went on for a few more seconds, but the drug quickly took effect and the bear grew sluggish, wobbly, then the big fellow fell out of the driver’s seat through the opening made by the missing door and lay on the ground. When the bear went down, Whittington scrambled into the front seat, presumably to attempt a getaway. The whole side of his body was exposed by the missing door. Phoebe put her next shot into his
thigh.
She reloaded the rifle with the last dart and would’ve put another one into his chest just for good measure, but Leon ran to the Professor and jerked the dart out of his leg. Whittington’s mouth dropped open, his head rolled back, and he fell sideways out of the car, landing beside the paralyzed bear.
That was an image Phoebe would never forget. But Leon dragged the inert Professor away from the bear and whipped his belt off and used it as a tourniquet around the Professor’s upper thigh.
Phoebe stomped over to where Leon knelt. “What’re ye doin that for?” she shouted.
“Bear juice’ll kill him,” Leon shouted back. “It’s too much.”
“Like I said,” Phoebe repeated, “What ye doin that for?”
Leon tightened the belt to his satisfaction, then ran into the store to get Doc.
Doc was still in the café assembling a deluxe cold dinner for himself and the ladies, blissfully unaware of the drama being played out in the parking lot. He’d made elaborate sandwiches and poured them glasses of milk, but he was having trouble finding plates and a tray.
Leon burst through the door looking like the survivor of a shipwreck and called, “Doc, will you come out here and take a look at that Professor fellow? Phoebe’s shot him with Henry’s bear juice. I got the dart out as quick as I could, but I don’t know how much of it he got in him. Maybe too much.”
“Don’t worry Leon,” Doc said calmly, without interrupting his search of the cabinets over the sink, “People like him always make it.”
Phoebe gave the Professor an extremely cursory examination, using the toe of her boot rather more strongly than necessary to move him to and fro, and not really caring what she found. She went to tend to Henry.
There was no point in calling 911 or trying to drive Henry to hospital because of all the trees in the road. And there was no way a helicopter could make it in this wind. So she and Doc worked on Henry. Then she took some bandages and tape over to where the Professor lay.
They’d left him lying on the ground with the bear. He started to come around while Phoebe was using gauze and tape to bind his ankles. She kicked him over on to his side and tied his wrists and then she bound his wrists and ankles together behind his back. She was finishing up when Fate arrived on the scene. He’d heard Lester’s emergency transmission and come looking for him.
Fate put the tip of his rifle against the Professor’s chest and used it like a stick to hold him in place. In the other hand he held a chainsaw. He looked at Phoebe and said, “Ya’ll kin go on inside now and get dry. I’ll take care of this for ye.”
“Thanks Fate,” Phoebe said. “But I’m not sure if he should go to the hospital first or to the cops.”
“I know right where he needs to go,” said Fate, in a tone that would’ve curdled Whittington’s blood if he hadn’t been doped out of his mind.
Phoebe was torn. Part of her wanted to let Fate dispose of the rascal. She had no doubt he’d do so in a thoroughly professional manner that would never come back on any of them. She was still mulling over Fate’s offer when she was startled to hear Henry’s voice behind her.
“That’s a mighty attractive offer, sir. Mighty attractive,” Henry said, “But the fool ruined a perfectly good hat of mine, so, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to turn him over to the law enforcement rangers.”
Fate looked at Henry, smiled slightly, and nodded. He moved the barrel of his gun away from Whittington’s chest and said, “If ye change yer mind … .“
Whittington’s eyes opened, but he still didn’t have much motor coordination. He moaned and thrashed half-heartedly at his restraints. Fate leaned over into the man’s face and gave him a look that silenced him. Then he dangled the chainsaw where Whittington could see it. Whittington’s eye grew wide.
“Aw, Fate there’s no need to waste gas with the saw,” Leon teased, “Phoebe’s got some scalpels.”
Whittington screamed like a little girl.
***
Leon half-carried Henry into the store. He sat him at a table in the café and asked Jill to bring him something hot to drink. Moments later Phoebe plopped down beside Henry.
They all looked like road kill.
“Who’d ye shoot first?” asked Henry.
“The bear.”
Henry nodded, “Good choice.”
“Do you need to do anything to him?”
“Nah, when he wakes up, he’ll run off and, after the awful way you’ve treated him, I can personally guarantee that he’ll never come back to this area again.
“Wonder what’s the best way to get the insurance to pay for the damage to Jill’s car? Should she claim human or animal damage?”
“Why not both?” said Henry.
Phoebe looked at him, trying to really see him this time. He was a wreck. “Do you get tore up like this often?”
“Yeah,” he said, sighing. “I guess I’m lucky I know a good nurse.”
They both laughed and Phoebe leaned forward to hug him. He winced, thought about asking her for a rain check on the hug, then changed his mind and hugged her back with the arm that had a bullet in it, saying “Owwww!”
Chapter 41
It was spring by the time the authorities got things sorted out well enough to schedule a press conference about the discovery of the new drug.
Ivy had made a full recovery from her ordeal. She’d always have a small scar at her temple, but she didn’t mind. It reminded her of how tough she was and how every achievement came at a price. Henry’s arm healed well, attended to assiduously by Phoebe. Henry had good government insurance so Waneeta made sure Appalachian Healthcare got paid for services rendered.
Phoebe and Henry had a date to attend the ceremony honoring Ivy at Twin Creeks. The event was drawing major media attention. Ivy was going to sign the official document with the National Park Service confirming the location of her discovery, thereby guaranteeing the park would receive half of the proceeds from the commercialization of the substance produced by the new species of slime mold she’d found.
So far only a couple of people knew it, but Ivy had named the medicine jillleoncillin in honor of Jill and Leon’s crucial interventions to rescue her and her specimens and she’d named the myxo Physarum polycephalum smokus phoebehenrii to thank her other benefactors. Pharmaceutical analysts on Wall Street were predicting that the new antibiotic would be worth tens, if not hundreds, of millions of dollars. So the park’s share was a lot of money. Phoebe hoped some of that would eventually trickle down into a raise for Henry and some additional full-time positions in wildlife management, but she knew that was unlikely since Henry and his boss were getting along even worse than usual in the aftermath of the brouhaha.
Park Superintendent Fielding read Henry the riot act about his unauthorized use of a motor vehicle in the park. And he went purple in the face when berating him for allowing a National Park Service animal tranquilizer rifle to be operated by unauthorized personnel, and even worse, for advocating the use of said rifle on a human being!
Henry was also severely admonished about involving himself in events outside the boundary of the national park. But after a comprehensive tongue-lashing, Superintendent Fielding grudgingly mumbled that he’d decided not to fire Henry. He wasn’t honest enough to admit that it was because without Henry’s so-called inappropriate activities, the park would’ve had no share in the profits from Ivy’s discovery.
Henry endured the dressing down with as much equanimity as he could muster. He even kept a straight face during Fielding’s rants about the importance of following the rules, setting a good example, and maintaining the public’s trust in government servants.
When he was sure his boss was finished, Henry reached into the breast pocket of his uniform shirt and took out the brass key stamped GSM-147 and set it carefully on the Superintendent’s desk. He’d had a chance to talk to Ivy about the cabin and she’d told him it was Fielding’s secret love nest. She knew she was only one of several women who’d bee
n given keys. She’d made it clear that she had no interest in his advances, but Fielding urged her to keep the key in case of emergency, to give himself plausible deniability.
Next, he set the nickel Sequoia cone hatband ornament beside it. Henry waited for Fielding to grasp the significance of the two items, then, when he saw the Superintendent’s eyes widen, he left the office without saying a single word.
The University of Tennessee was scrambling to handle their own debacle quietly, behind the scenes. First, they had to decide how to deal with a young graduate student who’d made a discovery of major significance to both science and medicine, and simultaneously lost her major professor, and nearly her life, under circumstances that were extremely awkward to say the least.
The University was trapped between a rock and a hard place. They wanted to minimize the scandal but were also desperate to horn in on the media storm surrounding Ivy. The kid was already the youngest person to make the cover of Fungi magazine.
The President, Chancellor, and Dean of the Botany Department met with Ivy to assure her that she would be getting an ethical and cooperative new major professor and that she would be awarded her doctorate on an expedited schedule if she made any gesture whatsoever toward completing the requirements.
A worldwide bidding war broke out among the pharmaceutical conglomerates, but Ivy was talking to Weleda, trying to convince them to function as her primary agent so the new antibiotic would be made available as naturally and cheaply as possible. Tests by scientists confirmed that the compound was indeed effective for treating brain infections that had previously been fatal.
As a way of paying back the people who saved her life and protected her discovery, Ivy had already signed the paperwork to establish a foundation for rural healthcare. The Foundation would begin by building a combination childcare, eldercare, hospice, and special needs respite facility for the town of White Oak.
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